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froggibus · 10 months

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Vermillion Flames - Blackwatch! Genji

Pairing: Blackwatch! Genji Shimada x f! Reader (reader uses female pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: angst, smut/NSFW

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: Genji is the newest addition to Blackwatch, and while he seems to be angry at everything, his anger seems to be clouded over by something else—his feelings for you

CW: dubcon, dark! Genji, Blackwatch! Genji, dom! Genji, sub! reader, dacryphilia, masturbation, marking, choking, possessiveness, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, overstimulation, breeding? kinda, violence, reader gets shot, mutual pining, Genji is a lil obsessive

THIS IS NOT THE HAPPY, WELL-ADJUSTED GENJI WE KNOW AND LOVE. THIS IS A DARKER, BLACKWATCH GENJI WHO IS STILL COPING WITH HIS THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS AFTER THE INCIDENT.

I’ve had this idea for a really long time and at one point was writing a full length fic about this, but I always lose motivation so here is the bite sized version lol. I kinda tried to keep his character here while also playing to the darker elements, especially his feelings towards himself and others after the accident. also I’m just super down bad for dark! Genji so enjoy <3

————

If there’s anything you’ve come to learn in your time as a Blackwatch agent, it’s how to know when you’re being watched.

Despite stepping off of the jet into the cold Russian air, you feel the warm sting of eyes on your back. You glance over your shoulder—but the only people around are your teammates.

Cole Cassidy isn’t even looking your way, his focus is on the holster attached to his belt and the Peacekeeper that sits inside of it.

Gabriel Reyes has his holopad out, eyes narrowed at the schematics on his screen. He doesn’t seem aware of what’s going on around him, but you know Reyes—he’s always watching.

Moira O’Deorain hasn’t even stepped off of the jet yet. Your best guess is she’s still gathering all of her equipment into a bag that she’ll force Cassidy to carry later on.

So that leaves Genji. The mysterious cyborg is the newest addition to your team and he’s kept to himself the past few weeks. You’d be lying if you said he hadn’t caught your eye, but you knew better. Reyes and Cassidy had constantly reminded you that he was dangerous, unstable. Still, the dangerous air to him sends electricity arcing up your back.

You shrug it off. Maybe you’re just paranoid because you’re about to infiltrate a terrorist organization. You turn back to the terrain ahead.

Genji Shimada can’t seem to tear his eyes off of you. Something about the sway of your hips, the swell of your ass, just captivates him. Dark eyes stare at you, shockwaves rushing through his system.

It’s been so long since a woman has been able to capture his attention. Ever since he became the cyborg monstrosity he sees himself as, he hasn’t had time for women. Or more accurately, women don’t want a robot for a boyfriend.

He suppresses a sigh. The group has already started trekking through the snow, and he has no choice but to follow. The cold air does wonders to suppress the heat rushing through him, and he’s grateful for his mask so that no one sees the red tinge to his face. He forces his eyes to look at the horizon, to look at the path ahead, to look anywhere but you.

The trek to the facility feels like an eternity, and you’re not sure if it’s from the eyes burning into you or the deep snow, or some combination of both.

You shake it off. You can’t afford to be distracted on this mission, and Genji is off limits.

—

Genji is less than enthused when Reyes pairs him off with you. He couldn’t help but notice the way you shrunk in on yourself when Reyes called his name. He hates how the sight sends blood rushing through him.

The two of you set out on sneaking through the vents of the facility, blindly feeling your way through the dark in hopes to find the lab. You can hear Genji breathing behind you and see the red glow of his armor reflected on the vents. Having him behind you now, nowhere to stare but you, only confirms what you thought earlier. He was looking at you. You’re not sure how to feel about that.

You’re so distracted by his presence that you don’t realize the loose grate beneath you until you’re falling through it, tumbling towards the ground. You barely manage to brace yourself before you hit the rubber floor of the facility, using your momentum to roll.

Unfortunately, your entrance was less than graceful and now the Talon agents in the room are staring at you.

Genji groans, shaking his head at you. Great. He watches as one of the agents hits the panic button, and red lights and an alarm start blaring. He watches from the vent, waiting to see what you’ll do.

The agents in the room flee, but they’re replaced by other agents in full body armor, carrying pulse rifles. You stand your ground, extending out your bo staff and spinning it in front of you with expert grace.

If he wasn’t so pissed off at you, Genji would be impressed.

He lets you fight off the first wave on your own, but as soon as the agents start to overwhelm you, he’s dropping out of the vent. He lands silently, the agents not even noticing him until he’s slicing through their ranks.

You finish off the last of your agents and freeze, watching him fight. He’s a blur of silver and black and red, a gory mess but beautiful in the same sense a graveyard is. Watching him now, you see why Cass and Reyes had warned you about him—you can almost see the ghosts of his past following him through the fight.

You’re so distracted, so infatuated, you don’t notice the stray bullet headed straight for you.

Genji reacts before you do, diving in front of you and deflecting it into the straggling agent. The agent collapses to the ground, a hole burning in his chest armor.

“T-thank you.”

Genji spins around, staring down at you. He’s not very tall, but he just seems so much bigger than you right now. You wait for him to say something, anything, but instead he just sighs.

The two of you make your way through the facility as quietly as you can, blending into the shadows casted by the blinking red lights. Every once in a while, Genji grabs your wrist harshly to tug you along with him. You don’t need words to know he’s pissed at you.

He’s so mad at you, so frustrated with your inability to focus. And yet a stupid part of him still wants to protect you.

The journey back to the jet feels like an eternity, made worse by Genji’s complete and utter silence. You try to make conversation with him, avoiding bringing up what just happened, but it only seems to make him more angry. He walks slightly ahead of you, refusing to let himself look at you.

The emotions swelling in his chest are so confusing, he just wants to hit something. He’s so angry at you, and your stupid sunshine persona just keeps talking and talking. He’s half tempted to tell you to shut up, stop talking, but he knows he has to keep it together until you’re back to safety. And though he’s angry, another part of him isn’t.

It’s the first time in months he’s felt something that wasn’t riddled in angst and guilt, and he hates it. He hates that he wants to just look at you. Just stare at you for hours on end. He hates the way you make his heart race and the blood rush to his groin.

Just before you make it to the jet, a few meters from where the ramp is down and you’re sure Reyes and Cass and Moira are waiting, you try to catch up with Genji.

You jog up to his side, trying to grab his shoulder to get his attention. “Hey, I’m really sorry for—”

Genji spins around impossibly fast, catching your wrist in his metal palm. He squeezes it enough for it to hurt. You try to pull away but he keeps you there—a display of his strength, and the difference between the two of you. You hate the way it makes your heart speed up in spite of the pain.

“Don’t.” He simply says, but he doesn’t let go of your wrist.

His tone catches you by surprise. You’ve barely ever talked to him, and now he sounds so angry with you, it makes you shiver.

You glare at him, waiting for him to say something else. He glares back, red eyes narrowing in on you. When your eyes meet, there’s that electricity again. You wonder if he feels it too.

Then, as if nothing happened, he drops your wrist and boards the plane. You catch your aching wrist, rubbing at the sore skin, before following him onto the jet.

—

You’re pulled into Morrison’s office almost as soon as you land back at HQ. Reyes follows you in, ready to both berate and defend you in front of his closest comrade. You stand the whole time, fingers fiddling with the foam head of the chair next to Reyes.

You zone out while Jack yells, staring at the wall above his head, waiting for it to be over. Everything he’s saying is true—you were reckless, distracted, stupid. You could have gotten everybody killed, one more mistake like this and there won’t be a place for you within Blackwatch anymore.

Genji listens from the other side of the door. He tried to stop himself, but the look on your face when Reyes started to guide you down the hall changed his mind. You looked so scared. He wasn’t going to let you face that alone.

Everytime Jack raises his voice, Genji’s hand clenches the door handle, ready to burst into the room. Yet he doesn’t, because everytime, you just say ‘yes sir’ in that cute obedient voice that’s driving him crazy.

At a particularly loud burst, he’s turning the handle when he hears the loud clicking of boots behind him.

“Don’t,” Cassidy warns, “it ain’t worth it.”

He spins around, squinting at the cowboy. They’ve barely interacted, but when they have, it’s been brief.

“Y/n made the mistake, y/n’s gotta pay for it. Simple.”

Genji takes a deep breath. He knows he’s right, it’s none of Genji’s business. But something about being told to leave you alone, let you face this alone, makes him so angry. He can feel the blood rush to his ears.

“I don’t know if I like you muckin’ about in their business, anyway.” He raises an eyebrow at the cyborg, “y/n’s a good person.”

Though he doesn’t say it, the implication is loud and clear. You’re a good person, he’s not. Still, being told to stay away from you only makes him want to be with you more. He hates it.

“Just,” the cowboy sighs, taking back his earlier judgment. “Don’t do anything stupid.” He turns on his heel and walks down the hallway, spurs clicking the whole way.

They’ve been talking for so long that the meeting is almost over, and Genji only has a few seconds to dash down the hall before the door is swinging open.

You tug on your hair in frustration, forcing yourself to keep your feelings in until you get to your room. You scream as soon as your door closes behind you, kicking a pile of clothes in frustration.

You pull off your suit, toss it with the clothes, and collapse in a heap on your bed. You fucked up so bad, you really, really fucked up. And it’s all because of that stupid fucking cyborg and his stupid fucking attitude.

You lay there in your underwear for god knows how long, sobbing out your frustrations for the day.

Genji sits in his bed on the other side of the wall. He can hear you, and a part of him wants to comfort you. But another, darker part of him just wants to see you cry. He shakes his head—when did he get so fucked up?

Still, he can’t help but seethe. He’s the only one who should be making you cry like this, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be from him yelling at you. God.

He tugs off his visor and slams it on his nightstand. He doesn’t even know how to deal with his feelings anymore. It’s been so long since he’s felt anything but this burning anger, and the combination of these emotions are driving him crazy. You’re driving him crazy.

It’s like his attraction has dialed up to 11, and he doesn’t know how to cope.

He can still hear your sobs from the other side of the wall, and he hates the way it makes his cock swell. It hurts—straining against the metal plate of his armor.

He groans, part pain, part pleasure. He hates his body, he hates his stupid robot parts. And the fact that he can’t even get a hard on anymore without it hurting makes him hate everything even more.

He strips out of his armor, peeling away the metal parts that he can, despising the ones he can’t. Still, he’s happy that his cock is free, the fresh air feeling amazing on his sensitive head.

He spits in his hand, spreading out the moisture on the shaft of his cock. He focuses on the sound of your crying through the walls, shutting his eyes and rubbing himself while he listens to it. You sound so pretty, so weak. He loves it.

He only wishes he was in there with you.

He speeds up his movements, thrusting into his hand. He can picture it so well—him pinning you to the bed, fucking you until you cry like that. Listening to you beg and whine and sob all night.

He’s finishing in his hand before he can finish the fantasy, wiping off the cum with a tissue and tossing it in the trash.

He lays back in bed. What the fuck is wrong with me? He was never like this before, never into stuff like this before. And he knows a part of him will never be the same since the accident, but he didn’t know it would be like this.

He wants to protect you. He wants to avoid you. He wants to fuck you, he wants to make you cry. He wants to make you feel better, he wants to take care of you. It makes his head spin. He’s never been obsessed like this before.

He shakes his head. He needs to stay away from you before this gets any worse.

—

Genji avoids you like the plague after that. He always chooses to spar with Cass during training, he refuses to be your partner on missions, and when he is, he just ignores you the whole time.

You’re not even sure what you did wrong. You know there was that weird, tense moment after you messed up that mission, but you didn’t think that was reason enough to hate you. The whole enigma of him makes your head spin, but it’s so alluring that you couldn’t hate him even if you wanted to.

Sometimes you catch him staring at you, red eyes examining you like prey, but as soon as you notice it, it’s done. You’re not one to talk though—sometimes you catch yourself zoning out on him, watching his arms as he trains, watching his sweaty black hair falling in his face.

The tension between you two is suffocating.

So of course Reyes has to assign him to be your partner on an undercover mission in London.

The mission starts off normal, but so did all of the other ones. Genji keeps a close eye on you, ready to make sure you don’t get distracted and fuck up again. Still, he’s the one that’s distracted. Ever since that day in his room when he got off on hearing you cry, his feelings towards you have only grown.

He shakes his head and forces himself to focus. He can’t afford to get distracted here—not when either one of you could get hurt in the process.

The rooftops of London are completely empty, and so are the streets, surprisingly. The two of you creep around, trying to make your way to the stakeout point so you can observe a secret meetup. The air smells of petrichor, the sky threatening to open up and pour down on you. You wouldn’t complain if it did. You need something to cool you off from the thoughts you’ve been having about Genji.

You make it to the designated spot, setting up your stuff. You radio to Reyes that you’ve arrived at the vantage point and he radios back that the deal should be happening at any minute.

Any minute, which is code for anytime in the next hour. You hope it’s sooner rather than later so you don’t have to deal with this awkward silence. You fiddle with your fingers, tapping them on your knees.

Genji watches you closely. He watches the way you mess around with your fingers, watches your chest with every breath you take. That costume fits you perfectly, and he hates the idea that other people get to see you like this.

The meeting happens only a few minutes after you arrive, a tall omnic dressed in a suit emerging from the shadows to deal with a scraggly looking man. Genji observes them closely while you take pictures, capturing everything they do.

Something seems wrong, though. They’re not exchanging goods like the intel said they would be. In fact, it doesn’t seem like a secret meeting at all. Genji realizes it’s a trap a second too late, only managing to shove you down as a bullet rips across the landscape.

It grazes your shoulder, a burning pain spreading through your body. You collapse to the ground with a whine, Genji landing on top of you. He presses his hand to your mouth to keep you quiet.

You’re in so much pain—you’re not sure you’ve ever felt this way before. It burns and it aches and it feels as though you’ve been ripped apart. Genji presses down on the wound and a scream leaves your throat just as another bullet rips through the air.

It just barely misses the top of Genji’s head.

“Stay here,” he breathes heavily, suddenly pouncing to his feet.

That’s the most he’s spoken to you in weeks, and it’s the first thing you’ve heard him say without that tone behind it. You watch as he stands up and draws his sword, challenging the sniper to shoot again.

They do, and Genji is ready. He deflects it back perfectly, the clang of metal on metal replacing the sound of the shot. There’s a yelp from far away, and satisfied that he’s got them, Genji returns to your side.

Only, you’ve lost so much blood that you’re barely coherent. “Fuck!” He taps your face, willing you to stay with him, but you drift off.

—

You wake up in a hotel room, body aching in the clean linen sheets. Your shoulder burns, and then you remember what happened. You sit up quickly, tugging off your shirt to examine the wound. It’s been cleaned and bandaged, under a huge patch of blood stained gauze.

You sigh in relief. You’re not dead—but you would be if it weren’t for Genji.

The hotel room is fairly clean, aside from your bloody uniform that’s laying on the ground next to the bed. You blink a few times. You were on a mission—where did you get a spare change of clothes? Did Genji go shopping?

As if on cue, Genji speaks from where he’s sitting near the closed curtains. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got shot,” you admit.

He nods, clearly not in a joking mood. “They won’t be able to extract us until tomorrow morning. Reyes set up this room for us and sent the extra clothes.”

That makes sense. There’s no way they’d be able to get you two out of the streets without drawing attention, especially after shots were fired.

You rub the seam of the gauze, trailing over the wound subconsciously.

“We should change that.”

You follow him into the bathroom, awkwardly sitting on the counter while he pulls out a grocery bag of first aid supplies. You pull off your shirt, embarrassed at the prospect of him seeing you half naked. At least you were unconscious and didn’t have to deal with the humiliation last time.

You don’t miss the way Genji’s eyes graze over your skin, tracing the outline of your collarbone. It makes you heat up, thoughts of him kissing you there flooding your mind. You shake them away—he’s just helping you out. It’s wrong to think of him this way.

He peels off the old gauze covering, discarding it in the trash, before dabbing alcohol across the wound.

You watch him work, fingers knowing what to do without him even thinking about it. He traces the outline of the gauze after he places it on your skin, cold metal fingers settling the hotter parts of you.

You shiver under his touch, looking up at him. Genji looks back, dark eyes meeting your softer ones. You offer him a gentle grin.

His hand moves from your shoulder to your hip, squeezing it. He finds himself leaning in, and you find yourself getting closer. And then just before your lips touch, he pulls away like he’s been burned.

“G-Genji?”

He shakes his head, storming out of the bathroom. You follow after him, not even bothering to tug your shirt back on.

“Don’t come near me!”

You furrow your brows at his words. “What? What’s going on? Did I do something wrong? You’ve been avoiding me for weeks!”

He tugs on his hair, repeatedly shaking his head at you. You can see the way his muscles are tensing, see the way he’s trying to show restraint. But why?

“Genji,” you step closer to him cautiously, like you’re approaching a wild animal. “What is it?”

He keeps shaking his head, eyes focused on the floor, ignoring you completely. You take another step, only inches from him now.

“Genji.”

“I’m a fucking monster, okay?” His outburst makes you flinch but you hold your ground. “I’m not even human anymore, and I have all these sick fucking thoughts about what I want to do to you and—you should just stay away from me, okay?”

“What kind of sick thoughts?”

“You don’t want to know,” his eyes finally meet yours.

You step an inch closer, standing on your toes so that your mouth hovers near his. “I think I do.”

“Y/n,” he warns.

You ignore the warning. You ignore all of the red flags. You ignore the voice in your head that says maybe this isn’t the best idea. You jump into his arms, smashing your lips against his and wrapping your legs around his waist.

He turns you around to slam you into the wall, being careful to avoid reopening your wound. He’s so hungry for you, so desperate. His lips nip at yours like a man starved, all he wants, all he needs right now is to have you.

He carries you over to the bed, tossing you into it before climbing on top of you and ripping off your pants. You’re left naked, shivering in anticipation at what he’s going to do to you.

You don’t know how deep his cybernetic parts run, you hardly know anything about him, but he’s all you want. You tug him to you by his hair, making him kiss you again. One of his metal thighs slips between your legs, giving you something to grind your wet pussy against while you make out.

His lips move down to your neck, biting at the sensitive skin. Moans force their way out of your throat, the sting of his teeth breaking the skin making your eyes water.

Genji pulls back, looking at your teary eyes. The thought of finally having you like this, so vulnerable underneath him, is enough to make him feral.

His hand is slipping between your legs, shoving two fingers inside of you with ease. Your wet pussy gushes around him, begging him for more. You whine at his roughness—but it’s so fucking good.

He shoves them in and out of you, curling them inside of you in a way that makes your eyes roll back. His mouth finds its way to your tits, biting your nipple hard enough to make you gasp. The sound has his cock swelling even more, straining against the metal.

He slips a third finger in you, stretching you out in such a delicious, amazing way. You moan his name, trying to let him know you’re getting close, but Genji is too drunk on the feeling of you to listen.

He keeps attacking your chest with his mouth, leaving bruises and bite marks across your skin. It’s his way of marking his territory, of showing everyone who you belong to.

He’s wanted this for so long, and he’s going to enjoy every fucking second of claiming you.

You cum hard on his fingers, and Genji stops just to watch how pretty you look when you cum. He pulls his fingers out of you, sucking off the juices and moaning at the taste.

The sight of him is enough to make you horny again, and suddenly you’re thrusting your hips in the air, desperate for any sort of contact.

“So desperate,” he teases.

“I-I—”

He mocks you, popping off the metal plate from his crotch and stroking his cock. He rubs his head through your folds, collecting up your slick on his shaft. You’re already ready for him, your first orgasm prepping you more than enough.

He pushes his whole cock in, your walls straining to take him. He can’t quite get his whole length inside of you, so he pulls out and shoves it in again. He watches as he sinks in and out of you, the last two inches of his cock staying outside of the wetness he longs to be in.

He’s bigger than you’re used to, and your pussy is already so sensitive. That doesn’t stop Genji, though. He keeps slamming his hips into yours, trying to force his cock inside of you. You whimper with every thrust, almost screaming when he hits that spot deep inside of you.

Genji rolls his hips into yours, thrusting hard and deep. He grabs at your neck, strong hand gently squeezing. You gasp at the sudden feeling and the lack of oxygen, but the burning in your throat feels so good you don’t want him to stop. Everything starts to get fuzzy, and the feeling of Genji railing you starts to feel even better.

You don’t even realize you’re cumming until he releases his grip on your throat and lets you breathe. The blood rushes to your ears. Your eyes have teared up from the choking, a few tears rolling down your cheeks. You go to wipe them away, but Genji pins your wrists above your head.

The sight of you lying beneath him, whimpering and crying like he imagined has him going crazy. He keeps bullying his cock into your swollen pussy, thrusts getting sloppier by the second until he fully bottoms out and pumps his cum inside of you.

“G-Genji,” you breathe. “Did—did you just—”

Genji’s too drunk on your pussy to listen, fucking his cum back inside of you. The hot mixture of his cum and your juices being fucked inside of you has you curling your toes.

His pace is brutal, his mind only set on fucking you full and keeping you stuffed. He pushes your legs up into your stomach, fucking you into a mating press.

Your vision blurs from the tears, your nerves overloading from the overstimulation and making you shiver. Genji fucks you through it, pounding into you, sure to get his entire length in every time. It’s not long before you’re cumming again, your body convulsing with your orgasm. Your thighs shake uncontrollably, but Genji holds them in place while he finishes fucking you.

He reaches up to wipe the tears from your face, the sight of you sobbing only making him fuck you harder. God, he’s wanted this for so long and he’ll do anything to keep it. Anything as long as he gets to keep fucking you like this.

“G-gonna finish inside of you,” he groans. “Gonna stuff you full. Y-you like that?”

You nod furiously, but you’re so fucked out that he could do anything to you at this point and you wouldn’t care. Genji cums with a string of moans and curses, cock twitching inside of you.

He doesn’t pull out, instead, he lays on his side and tugs you so your back is pressed against his chest. He keeps his cock inside of you, holding his cum inside.

It’s not long before you’re falling asleep, Genji’s fingers tracing patterns on your stomach. For the first time in a long time, he feels like the anger and the darkness within him are sated, and for now, that’s more than enough.

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bunnyreaper · 1 year

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cruel summer

pairing - gabriel reyes x f!reader wc - 9,130 warnings - power dynamics, deep throating, face slapping, consensual but not safe or sane, rough sex, degradation, dom/sub, dirty talk, spitting, angst notes - uploading to tumblr as well as ao3 bcs yay, but you can also read it there if you like!

The sweltering heat hasn't let up all day even as the evening comes, and yet the peak of summer has yet to arrive. Adding to the feverish haze of it all, Commander Reyes decided to make two firmly annoying decisions. Firstly, that training would be conducted outside today, and secondly, that it would be an all-day session. And when he said all day, he meant all day.

Luckily for him, he's foregone his usual hoodie in favor of a tight-fighting tank top that's molded to his abs, showing off his bare arms. His tan skin is covered in the barest sheen of sweat, unlike the cloying, soaked fabric that clings to your own body. You, and the rest of Blackwatch around you, continue to work away—pushing your bodies to the limit in the hopes of appeasing your scrutinous Commander.

Daring to dream that this lap would be the last, you force yourself through the muscle cramp and rapidly forming blisters, until you reach that point just in front of Commander Reyes. When you fall to the dirt unceremoniously, you heave to catch your breath, and hope that he'll take pity on you. For a moment, your vision even crosses into blurred territory, as you can't quite make out exactly who collapsed onto the ground beside you.

"One more, Agents." His voice drawls, laced with a tone that just screams bastard.

You can't help but roll your eyes.

Maybe it's the delirium from the heat, or the part of you that can't escape the need to be his bitch—but a sense of bravery, or brattiness, rises within you. "Fuck off, Reyes." You growl.

Maybe, just maybe, he'll only make you scrub the bathrooms for a week or two. You dare to look up, just in time to watch his arms fold across his broad chest, and his expression change to a mix of wicked amusement and anger.

"Language, Agent." He barks, his brows furrowed.

"Fuck off, Reyes." You correct yourself, feeling proud of your quick wit.

In a few strides, his boots are hitting the ground in front of you, kicking dust up in your face. His stature towers over you, only serving to reinforce your place. "5 mile run wasn't enough for you?" He asks.

You sit back on your knees, staring up at him still. This position is one you're used to, both inside and outside of training. "If I run further, at least it'll get me away from you." You say.

Pushing yourself onto your feet in preparation for another run, you still only come up to his chest, and you swallow deeply at the reminder.

"Then it wouldn't be a punishment, would it?" He narrows his eyes threateningly, his gaze piercing straight through you. "You're mouthier than usual today. You're lucky I don't write you up for insubordination."

"Your favorite Agent? You wouldn't." Once more, you find yourself rolling your eyes straight to the back of your skull.

Luckily, Reyes seems to be going easy on you, all things told. Another lap is doable—if you just keep the comments about your bleeding heels to yourself, and Reyes doesn't ignite your own anger with his presence.

A firm hand sets a harsh slap on your back, urging your weak legs into motion to start the run once more. "I'll run this lap with you, and I want it faster than the last. Then we'll go for a sparring session straight after." He starts, his voice still gruff yet taking easily to running while conversing.

Clearly, you spoke too soon about him going easy on you.

"Maybe I can beat some sense into you."

Gritting your teeth, you refuse to rise to the occasion once more. With your head down, you focus on the run.

Just one more lap.

With the lap over, completed in a surprising silence, Reyes dismisses the rest of the group and demands you follow him. The eerie quiet of the night continues. It's almost worse than him shouting, you think.

Looking up at his face as you walk, you see his features set in a frown—his jaw clenched.

Once upon a time, you remember the way that look would spark a fire deep inside you. The messed up little part of your brain that loves this whole dynamic would spring to life, eagerly awaiting his punishment. Now, you only feel a tinge of regret, a blue feeling in your chest.

The silence he's bestowed upon you really is a curse, as the thoughts you've tried to keep down come bubbling up to the surface. You act this way because it's the only thing you know how to do day-to-day. The only way to get his attention, to connect with him. And this, as much as it hurts you, is better than nothing. Better a kiss with a fist than the peace you'd get besides.

Leading you back to the building, as you begin to navigate the corridor, a cutting feeling claws at your heart.

Things are already so messed up, but if you could just convince him—would you make it? Or just make an even bigger mess? You just wish, for once, he was taking you to his room to share the comfort of his pillows—instead of the hardness of his flesh between the sheets.

A turn you didn't expect, and before you know it he's pushing the door to the gym open, and welcoming you to the smell of sweat and hot rubber.

"I didn't know you meant that 'sparring session' comment literally..." You say. The only thing that aches more than your heart is your muscles, and your need, only just.

"Really?" Reyes pulls up the ropes and waits for you, an impatient air rolling off him. "Get in the ring."

Taking his offer, you climb onto the canvas as you try to steady your breathing. "Wow, okay."

Up come your palms, forming a barrier in front of your face, and with it, the urge within you to fight.

Like a true predator, he stalks round the ring before coming to a stop in front of you, his own hands rising. "It's a good job Morrison doesn't give me a choice in having you on the team." He snarls, going straight in with a jab.

Physically, you're the first to make a move, advancing toward him. Clearly too slow, as he finds it all too easy to back away. "Why's that?" Your attempts to make a move on him are easily smacked away. "You'd die of boredom bossing around anyone that actually complies." He might see through you, but the truth is, it cuts both ways.

"Brat tamer, through and through." You continue, releasing your snark, and with it whatever strength you have left inside you—as you summon the burning embers of your spirit and push into Reyes with everything you have, until he's toppled onto the canvas.

"I must be less successful than I thought." His eyes flutter shut for a moment, before he looks up with a devilish grin that eats away at your heart.

Stepping onto his chest, you push down slightly, seeing the flames of hell alight in his eyes. "It's the masochist inside you, a glutton for punishment."

A harsh grip on your ankle is his first point of contact before he uses his brute strength to reverse your positions, and you're pinned underneath him without a hope of freeing yourself. Winded and immobile. His hands move to pin your wrists, his crotch positioned perfectly above yours. "I'm not the masochist here." He growls, the wicked smirk still on his lips.

"No, just a power hungry sadist." You sigh, feeling wounded by the truth of your own words.

Gabriel's eyes shift, as his lips come close to your ear, his hot breath fans across your skin and his voice drops low. "Is that what you think I am?"

Arousal courses through you, battling away all other feelings beside the bratiness inside you. You know you could work yourself into a fever pitch just laying here, feeling the press of his hardness into your core.

"You're a dirty, perverted old man." You snarl.

"And what kind of fucked-in-the-head little girl does that make you?"

"The one that gets your dick hard." You quip back.

"Shut up, or I'll shut you up." And with that he snaps, his hand coming across your face in a harsh sting before his fingers force their way into your mouth.

A part of you screams to bite, a part of you pleads with you to obey. Maybe that's it. If you drop the act, if you just obey, maybe things will be different. You feel your rational mind slipping away even quicker than usual, the submissive haze taking over as you give into your instincts and suck .

"That's it. I know you, inside and out, slut." He sighs, and grinds down into you as you lavish his fingers with your tongue. "It's so much better when you just behave."

The beautiful sound of his approval causes a moan to push past the digits, as your eyes roll back in pleasure—a complete contrast to earlier. He pulls away and stands, leaving you whining at his withdrawal before he grabs you by the chin, pulling you up as you scramble to get into position. Your glossy eyes gaze up at him, filled with need at his commanding stance—you're on your knees, acting perfectly submissive.

"Good girl." He growls, his voice a low timbre that sends shivers down your spine. "Since you've got such a big mouth, this is perfect for you." He grasps at his semi in a macho display, palming it through his trousers.

"Yes Commander." You sigh, unfocused, staring at his package with reverence.

He smirks. "Take me out." Then, he leans back slightly to admire the view as you fiddle with the button of his combat trousers—needy, trembling fingers struggling to pull down the zipper as the fabric strains.

Your eyes are glued to the soft cotton clinging to his erection, perfectly framing his dangerously thick length. There's a spot in the fabric that's already dampened.

Contrasting such size, your dainty fingers slip under the fabric, pulling down the underwear and trousers just enough to free him from his confines. How many times have you seen this exact sight? And yet still, you drool in anticipation and gaze upon it with wonder.

"No words when you're faced with this thick cock, huh?" He grips the base, slapping the flesh against your cheek as your mouth instinctually falls open, your tongue poking out. He slaps his cock there too.

"No, Commander." You sigh, your words constrained by your stuck out tongue.

Gabriel doesn't take long, the title spurring him on as he quickly guides his cock into your mouth for you to eagerly suck. "Fuck." He sighs, as you worship the head with your lips and tongue. "That mouth always feels so good."

You feel your thoughts slip further away as you focus on pleasing him—putting all your skill and practice into making him sigh. With so many of your little trysts behind you, you know the pressure he likes, the little tongue flicks that drive him crazy. Doing one such flick, you see his eyes roll back in his skull, and you desperately chase such a look, or the way his sighs turn into growls.

"Fuuuck." He groans, before moving his hands to your head—securing you as he pushes further in. Your natural response is to sputter and choke, as it moves from a blowjob to a facefuck.

Gabriel—Commander Reyes—is completely in control now.

He laces his fingers in your hair, tugging at the roots to piston your head back and forth on his cock at a brutal speed. As he pushes his cock deeper into your throat, you whine around the thick flesh as even after all this time, you struggle to take his girth as it splits your jaw and stretches your throat.

But he knows you can take it.

His hand falls to your neck, using his grip to hold you in place as he forces himself in to the hilt, and releases a deep, filthy groan. You can't help but moan too, no matter how hard it is. There's barely any room for noise since your throat is so stuffed full. Even if the discomfort outweighed the pleasure, hell would freeze over before you'd tell him—before you'd risk losing his favor.

Like this, you're useful. Like this, you have his full and undivided attention.

Each time he pushes you, looking to break the unbreakable, because each time you'll come back to him. You'll come back wanting more. His pull is magnetic, his hold complete.

He fucks your face with fervor, the sounds of your wet mouth sloppily taking him in reverberates around the empty gym. Each slick suck, each burst of drool seeping from your mouth down his length—making you even messier.

"That's the smartest thing you've said all day." He snarls, the sound laced with a hint of cruel laughter. He pulls you back off his cock, and you gasp for air—also leaving a thick coat of saliva connecting the two of you.

"You've made quite the mess." Gabriel coos, spitting onto your face with little regard. "Let me help." His rough hand comes to rub the spit across your face, smearing the barely-there coat of mascara across your cheeks.

"Can't talk back like this, can you?" He hisses, pushing his dick past your puffy lips, back into your mouth.

Once more, he returns to pushing into the back of your mouth until his dick disappears down your throat, and meets complete resistance—until tears form in the corner of your eyes, and your throat begins to constrict. Looking up at Gabriel, you can see his head thrown back in pleasure, his teeth bared as an animalistic growl rips through his throat. His guiding hand bobs you up and down his length, as you hollow your cheeks to increase his enjoyment.

That's all that matters—his enjoyment, his pleasure.

His pace relents, opting to go slowly as you focus on sucking and licking. Working your tongue in the perfect way, pushing him as close to the edge as you can. As you work away, his head hangs low, and your gaze upon his face is unwavering. His eyes slip shut as he gains a beautiful, blissed-out look—appearing peaceful, almost angelic.

Your slower pace allows you to take the time to admire his chiseled jaw, his plump lips, his pretty eyelashes.

You'd be lying if you said his dominant treatment didn't make you drip—you can already feel the fabric of your panties clinging to you.

Your eyes flutter shut for a moment—embracing the feeling, embracing the cock-drunk haze that surrounds your mind. All you want to do is suck, and suck, suck. Swallow as much of him as you can take, taste his delicious pre-cum, get to hear more of those heavenly, primal noises he makes.

"Maybe I should do this in front of the whole team, show them what a little fucktoy you are for me." He purrs, and your eyes snap back up to him as they hang on every word, eagerly awaiting what degradation will come next. "Show them that you're just-" His hips and words stutter as he feels the pressure around his shaft. "-Talk." "Just a desperate, submissive, little slut trying to play with the big boys."

You can feel how doe-like and blown open your eyes are, as you obediently take him in and internalize his truths.

"But you'd probably like that, wouldn't you?" He chuckles, though it's broken by ragged breaths. "Having everyone know you're the Commander's personal fleshlight. "

That word rattles around your brain, as your body slackens, the only definition in your temptingly curved spine. Your arms hang limply, not protesting the rough treatment of your face.

"You're such fucking-" He stills as he hits the back of your throat, your eyes bulging as you begin to gag. "-Hard work." He sighs, before pulling you completely off his cock once more. Your lips are glazed along with your eyes, that are caught in his intense gaze. "Useful for this at least." He slips back inside you, picking up a relentless pace as he fucks your face.

"This," He pushes into your throat, then pulls out. In, out. In, out. Holding you in each position for a few moments, exercising his complete control. "This is why I keep you around."

Your chest clenches, yet so does your pussy—as each sinful, mean word makes you fall deeper and deeper down this crazy rabbit hole, despite cutting to the bone.

As he continues, he falls fairly silent—no longer whispering filth. Instead, the sounds of his deep groans and your sloppy, wet mouth fill the room once more. It's music to both of your ears, a nasty duet of pleasured growls and a well-fucked hole.

Gabriel pulls out quickly, his dick hanging temptingly in front of your mouth, yet he dips down to rip your sports bra down your body. Your breasts quickly pop out the top, perky nipples exposed to the suffocating, warm air, as the string of saliva already snaps and falls down onto your exposed chest. Next is your own combat trousers, that you struggle out of under Gabriel's scrutinous gaze. He returns to trail his swollen head across your lips, smearing more spit around your already glistening cheeks, before he commands you—"Spit."

You add to the mess on his cock, before he plunges back inside, taking shallow thrusts that allow more spit to build—before you're quickly drooling off his cock and down to your own tits.

He pulls out once more, his hands grasping at your flesh—pulling the sports bra off fully, tugging at your panties until you get the message. They're discarded quickly, and you're left completely bare, in harsh contrast to his almost fully-clothed form. Despite your state of undress, your skin still burns red hot—cheeks flushed, a gentle sheen of sweat across your skin.

"If you want to get yourself off, grind on my boot like the filthy whore you are, Agent."

"Yes Commander." You moan, repositioning to set your core on the tip of his heavy leather boot, as Gabriel relieves you from sucking for a few moments.

Instead, his eyes fall to where you're coating his boot in your slickness, pathetically grinding for any contact you can get. As you grind away, he strokes his heavy cock slowly, teasingly, right in front of your face. "Like a bitch in heat." He smirks, his eyes darkening as he thumbs the leaking tip of his cock.

You watch, hypnotized, working yourself over his foot to the same rhythm he strokes. Mentally, you beg and plead for him to just go faster. It's a cruel bliss, getting to feel the delicious contact—yet it's not enough. It's not fast enough, it's not his fingers, it's not his cock .

A grin splits Gabriel's face as he realizes your obedient game, and pulls you back to him, urging you to suck as you continue to grind.

The more eager you suck, the closer you get. The more you submit to him and take his cock, the more pleasure you feel. It isn't long before the knot in your stomach grows, and you push closer to the edge.

Gabriel knows you like the back of his own hand, knows that the way your hips stutter means you're right there. He tips his foot up teasingly, giving you more contact to push against as he urges you on. "You're there, aren't you?"

"Mhmm, mhmm." You moan around him.

"Do it, come for me." He growls. "Come for your commander."

His words send you reeling—bursting over the edge into blinding pleasure—once more sealing your own fate. The more you come to this treatment, the more you crave it. The vicious cycle continues. You desperately try to keep Gabriel's length in your mouth as you moan, but it's not long before he takes over again.

Nothing makes his cock harder than making you come to your own degradation.

His pace quickens, as his rhythm and noises turn primal. His hands grip to keep you in place as his punishing movements prove you to be doll-like—limp, as you're subject to his every whim and movement.

"Take every inch of this dick." He grunts.

His stormy, lidded eyes stare down at you, a wicked smirk curling onto his lips as a deep groan rumbles in his chest. "That's it, suck me dry." He whines, as his movements of your head changes. Instead of pulling you up and down the length, he insists on remaining deep in your throat, not allowing you any escape. "Take my fucking cum." With those final words, his thrusts escalate one more time as he spills his hot, sticky seed straight down your throat—forcing you to swallow every drop as eagerly as you can.

Gabriel pulls out of your mouth with one final, slick pop. His hand quickly reaches down to wipe the trail of saliva away from your lips and his cock. He hesitates for a moment before tucking himself back in with hiss, as you remain kneeling, relishing being able to breathe as you like. His other hand comes to comb through your hair, gently petting your head. Instinctually, you move closer to his touch.

After being the only time you get affection.

"What did I do to piss you off today? Or was it really just the running?" He asks, his voice cutting through your thoughts. You suspect he's looking upon your face as your eyes slip shut.

"All the running." You start, intending on stopping there, but finding the haze in your mind keeps your lips loose. "I've barely been sleeping since the last mission." Your admission is weak, and you don't dare open your eyes to see what you expect is a disgusted expression on his face.

"Take the day off tomorrow, okay?" Still maintaining his position over you, he reaches to stroke your cheek. It's laced with sweetness, and yet still, you're beneath him.

"Thanks." You sigh, opening your eyes to see none of the disgust you expected.

"Speak to me like that again in front of everyone, and you'll find your ass back in Overwatch. I'll make sure of it." He growls, his voice dropping low.

"Really?" You whisper, taken aback by the notion.

"Really." He cracks, his face breaking into a cheeky grin. The realization of his sick sense of humor, at least lets your heart settle somewhat. After one final caress, he pulls away and climbs out of the ring—heading to the window to let the fresh evening breeze roll in, and the scent of sex roll out.

"Where are you going?" You ask, trying your hardest to hide the need in your voice—the other kind of need.

"Shower, then bed." He replies matter of factly, almost automatically.

It shouldn't surprise you, since he never sticks around, but it still cuts. "Okay..."

His boots pound against the floor as he makes his way over to the door, and you watch as he leaves you there naked—yet suddenly, he freezes and turns. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." You say instinctively, which is clearly not the truth—but keeping secrets at least means keeping him.

You watch his face with rapt attention, watching his expression shift through a series of unreadable emotions, before he settles on a more neutral look. "OK. I was serious, I don't want to see you tomorrow."

"Right, night." You reply, throat closing up as you finally collapse backwards, giving your knees some much needed relief.

"Sleep well, Agent." His voice drifts over to you once more. "That's an order." His eyes remain fixed on you, yet you return his stare blankly.

After a moment, the suffocating air dissipates as he finally takes his leave, the gym door slamming closed behind him as the sound bounces off the walls. As you sit there, desperately trying to collect yourself, your mind drifts back to the thought that's been trying to burst through this entire time. The worst thing you could say, the worst thing he could hear. The last thing this fucked up dynamic needs.

You push your ravaged throat, your words coming out as a whisper into the silence. "I love you, Gabriel Reyes."

Night after night has been spent restless lately. Between the turmoil of your mind and the continuous heat of the Swiss Summer—all you seem to have done lately is toss and turn. There haven't been any visits punctuating the nights of unease.

If you've been having trouble sleeping in your fairly decent Overwatch-room bed, you're uncertain how camping in the woods is going to help at all.

Commander Reyes has spent most of the summer working you all to the bone. After one particularly brutal mission, a regime of endless training has followed, and many nights of personal duties too. Until lately. After the night in the gym, you've not seen him outside of training—he hasn't approached at all, and it's not something you would ever find yourself doing. He comes to you to fulfil his needs, not the other way around.

The peace has been a blessing and a curse, just as you suspected—a double-edged sword of yearning and relief. Said relief is coming to an end, as the doors to the building slide shut behind you. With your pack on your back, you head out to the field. In the distance you can already see the small crowd of your comrades—gathered round with similar packs and equipment tucked under their arms.

"Nice of you to show up, Agent." His voice calls out to you as you approach, and you shiver. It's the first time he's addressed you directly in weeks.

"Sorry I'm late." You answer demurely, and Reyes returns his attention to the group.

Despite spending the last few weeks subdued, your fellow Blackwatch agents are still taken aback by your sudden change in attitude.

"You doin' okay, darlin'?" Cassidy appears by your side, a pack on his back and cooler under his arm.

"Fine." You respond automatically, feeling sorrowful at how much you seem to be saying that lately. "Looking forward to this, in some ways." Cassidy seems satisfied with the smile you offer him, as you turn back to the group too.

"With everyone here, we're headed about an hour that way." Reyes gestures with his hand, pointing in the direction of the trees as people nod their assent. The group sets off, with Reyes leading the way down the trail.

When Reyes announced his 'relaxation-slash-team-bonding' activity, you were initially filled with dread—but surprisingly, a camping weekend in the nearby woods didn't sound too terrible. Reyes said he'd scouted out a campsite, and declared, in a somewhat menacing way, that it was going to be a good time. You haven't seen his more light-hearted side in quite some time, but planning the getaway seems to have given him a relaxing focus.

Silently following in the back of the group, Cassidy doesn't stray far from your side, with Genji close by too.

"I hope to get some meditation done." Genji comments, sounding pleasantly eager for the prospect.

"Am gonna drink all of these bottles, then line 'em up and use them for target practice." Cassidy announces, with a smirk, tapping on the cooler.

"We're supposed to be relaxing, Cass." You laugh, feeling a weight lifting as you chat with your friends.

He turns to you, quirking an eyebrow. "What's your plan then, Miss Relaxation?"

Your heart soars as you think of your plans. "Maybe find a creek to splash in, tie up the hammock I brought, and just relax."

"That does sound good." Genji comments. "And you definitely deserve it." He smiles.

It's then it hits you—the crushing guilt. How are you going to tell your friends your plan? How are you going to tell them about the transfer request form sitting in your drafts, just waiting to be sent?

You shake your head, desperate to push those thoughts aside. For now, nothing exists outside of this weekend.

The woody scent, the sound of birds, the drawl of Cassidy and the sweet tones of Genji. The late-afternoon sun beats down on the trees, casting dappled shadows that you weave through as you head deeper into the forest. Some of the other agents are laughing and joking, already enjoying their time off with high-energy, high-spirited antics. Instead you're taking things slow, admiring your surroundings and taking things in. Only occasionally indulging Cole's attempts at silly conversation. It's easy to just enjoy the journey, as time slips away.

It's not until you almost crash into someone in front that you are snapped out of your thoughts.

The trees ahead give way to a clearing by the side of a babbling creek—a bundle of supplies already waiting—making for a perfect camping spot.

Reyes sure knows how to pick them.

"We'll get tents and a canopy over here. Not forecast to rain, but best to be prepared." He announces, still falling into his natural leadership despite the 'time off'.

You'd already agreed to share a tent with Genji and Cassidy—on the proviso that Cassidy doesn't spoon either of you. While he reluctantly agreed, you were actually secretly hopeful that despite being in an old sleeping bag on a lumpy woodland floor, the sense of safety they provide would actually help you drift off with ease.

"Well, pass it here, Genji." Cass insists, beckoning Genji to pass over the tent.

"Absolutely not." He replies curtly, instead approaching you. "If we leave it to you, we will be sleeping under the stars."

"Though that does sound nice..." You comment wistfully, imagining the scene.

A childish huff leaves the ninja. "I expected you to be on my side."

"Oh, I agree with your assessment, but it wouldn't be the worst thing, is all." Pushing Cassidy aside, you direct him to a nearby stump. "Cass, you sit and look pretty, okay?"

"That I can do." He tips his hat to you both, taking a seat.

As you and Genji work on the tent in harmony, erecting poles and hammering pegs, you dare to glance around. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you can't help but wonder where the Commander will be sleeping for the night—undoubtedly alone. Closest to the head of the clearing and a little away from the others, he works away at setting up a tent of his own. Of course, should anyone, or anything come, he'll be the first line of defense.

When Gabriel's eyes connect with yours, you rush back to the present.

Desperately looking away, you try to busy yourself with another part of the tent building as panic rises within you. The look in his eyes was indecipherable, but like his general attitude lately, it was probably indifference. Your chest clenches—as you settle into the bitter thoughts you've become even more familiar with over the past few weeks. Once you stopped acting up, playing into his game—his attention waned. Exactly as you had suspected. It seems obeying wasn't enough after all.

"I think that pole is the wrong way." Genji comments quietly, beforing adding, "Sorry." He offers a slight, yet warm smile, as he seems to sense the turmoil inside of you, yet doesn't push any further.

Nodding, you turn the pole the right way, and with the final touches, the tent is ready. Between the summer sun, the hilly climb, and your existing fatigue, you actually feel sleepy for once. "Do you mind if I set up my hammock, try and get some rest?" You ask the men with a tired smile.

"Go fer it." Cassidy comments, as Genji nods.

You quickly grab the net from your backpack and set off in search of a perfect pair of trees. It doesn't take you long to find two close by that are the perfect distance apart, and luckily their branches cast the perfect shadows to shade your face yet leave your body in the glowing sun.

Tucking up in the hammock, you stare up at the canopy of the trees—the leaves and branches swaying, commanded by the whim of a gentle wind. Your eyes flutter closed, and before you know it, you're drifting off.

The smell of barbecue greets you upon waking, a rumbling stomach urging you out of the comfort of the hammock. The sun is mostly set, inkiness starting to overtake the sky. The campsite is more lively, as your fellow agents have started drinking in earnest—clinking glasses accompany the background music and laughter rippling through the group.

Wandering back over to the clearing, you see an area set up with drinks and snacks, as well as a few agents crouched over disposable barbecues, transferring the food to paper plates.

"Sleepyhead, over here!" Cassidy's voice draws your attention, as he and Genji patiently wait nearby in the hopes of getting food quickly. Joining them, it doesn't take long for you and the rest of the group to be served, as everyone starts to tuck into the food.

A sense of quiet falls over the group—doubly so when Commander Reyes stands with a bottle of beer in his hand.

"To Blackwatch." He toasts, a wry smile on his face.

"To Blackwatch." The group responds, but the words don't find their way out of your mouth in any convincing way.

The night draws on, some of the rowdiness winding down as people fall into a relaxed ambiance. Crickets keep you company, as the glowing moonlight looks down upon you all. The sporadically placed lanterns light each other's faces, revealing to each other rosy cheeks and fond smiles. Some sing along to the small radio, playing whatever chilled out music is on the playlist—others tell stories while some listen.

Reyes sits silent, you notice, taking long sips of a beer and staring off into the distance. He hasn't been mirthful in quite some time—but part of you still hopes he finds peace in the quiet and friendly company.

Sleepiness finds you once more, and you decide to head to your tent in the hopes of taking advantage of the feeling once more while it lasts. Perhaps you can enjoy more of the night tomorrow.

You wake to an arm around your waist—Cassidy's promise broken, yet you can't find it within yourself to be at all mad.

Now, the wide awake feeling is back, and you can already feel the rising restlessness. It's not something you want to subject your friends to. Wiggling out from under a heavy arm and the fabric of your sleeping bag, you make your way to the tent entrance and slip out into the summer air.

It's milder than the day, yet still carries an unmistakable warmth within it. The humidity and the coverage of the trees keeps everything at a comfortable temperature, even into what you assume is the early hours of the morning.

You venture into the center of the clearing, surprised to see a sole lantern still lit —even more surprised to see the shadows flickering across the Commander's face. You're about to turn tail and flee back to your tent, but his rough eyes cut through the darkness and connect with yours.

"Can't sleep?"

"I already got a little." You comment, wanting to appear less like an insomniac than you actually are.

"Sit." He says, and while it sounds like a suggestion, he should know you'll obey.

Uncertainly, you close the distance between the two of you and plop down beside him, keeping a respectable distance and leaning against the log-turned-backrest.

"I was surprised you came." He comments, and you can feel his gaze on you as you stare straight ahead.

"Yeah?" You reply absentmindedly, eyes fixated on a shadow in the distance like it's the most fascinating thing.

He's silent for a moment. "You haven't been yourself lately."

His words make you bitter in an instant. Translation: You haven't been acting on your baser, fucked up instincts lately. You haven't been crawling to him, begging for his attention. That makes you not yourself?

"I suppose not." You comment dryly after a vitriolic laugh.

"Come here." He commands.

Your eyes finally flicker to him, assessing him silently as you consider your next move. Can you stand to be any closer?

"That's an order." He adds, playing the Commander card.

You shuffle closer until you can feel his heat by your side, his arm brushing against yours. He offers his shoulder as a rest, which you take, albeit reluctantly. Strange.

"If the sleep issue is that bad, there are things they can give you." He whispers, a strange sense of softness to his voice.

When you're away from him, everything will be fine. "I'm sure I'll be fine soon." You say, and you actually believe it.

He rests his own head on top of yours, setting his beer on the ground beside him. "Sleep has been avoiding me too lately."

"Can you blame it?" You comment back without thinking, a smile creeping onto your face.

"No." Reyes chuckles, and you feel the vibration through your body. A moment passes as his laughter dies down. "I've missed this."

"Missed what?"

"Your big mouth." He grins, yet the comment burns you.

Bolting upright, your brows furrow wildly as your voice fills with offense. "Oh, of course you have."

"I didn't mean it like that." He frowns. Reyes' hand finds its way to your jaw in a flash, his fingers grasping hard and holding you in place. "But I can, if you like."

You have no choice but to meet his stormy gaze—see the way his gorgeous eyes have darkened. It's easy to see it in him, and feel it in yourself, the way you both shift—from a commander and his subordinate, to a man and his plaything.

"I—" You try to speak, but words fail you. The harsh press into your skin already ebbs away at any resistance you have.

The safe word you negotiated long ago doesn't come close to falling off your lips. If you were sensible, it would. If you were sensible, you'd but a stop to this here and now, not rip apart the rules you'd put in place for yourself. But you're far from any sense, you're in a different realm altogether, where you'll do anything to get another hit—to reach the high that is submitting to this titan of a man.

Last time wasn't the last after all. Maybe this will be your closure.

"Tell me you haven't been craving it too." His voice is low, in volume and tone. That way of speaking you haven't heard for so long now.

You have craved him, craved this. The dangerous dance you can't seem to leave, walking a fine line of something so easily breakable.

"Fuck you." You whisper, more sadness than anger in your voice.

Gabriel's brow furrows, not spared from the anger himself. "Fuck me?"

Your eyes flicker away, opting to stare at the ground instead of his face. You want to fight, but you don't have it in you anymore, a hollow feeling taking over in his absence. "You're the one who cast me aside."

He pulls his hand away in an instant—the pain abates and is replaced by relief, as well as a sweeping cold. "I thought since you're thinking of leaving, you'd appreciate the space to make your decision." His tone is cutting, clearly bitter, and you hate the way your chest tightens in response.

You know you're losing your nerve. He wasn't supposed to know already.

"How do you—" You whisper, confused, yet he interrupts you—invading your space.

"Have you made up your mind?" His eyes sparkle with something dangerous, his jaw clenched hard.

You take a deep breath, time seeming to slow as the seconds tick by. You try desperately to keep your nerve. Will he view you as weak for leaving? Will he even care? "I have." You say, through gritted teeth.

His nostrils flare, his eyes narrowing as he already seems to know your answer.

Time freezes—those ticking seconds dragging on even longer. Your throat goes dry as he stares you down, and you await whatever may come. Judging by the look on his face, a typical Reyes reaming is coming.

"Reyes—" You begin to speak, trying to protest, yet he's coming closer and closer. As you try to distance yourself, he continues on his prowl, crawling over in between your legs, hovering above you. Feeling the heat of his body so close continues to erode your resistance even further.

Whatever comes next, you're his for the taking.

"Unmake it." He snarls, before he snaps into action. His hand wraps around your throat, his body leveraging yours to overpower you and slam you into the dirt. "You're not going anywhere." His voice drops lower as he stares you down, and you find yourself frozen.

The next move he makes takes you completely by surprise, as his mouth crashes with yours. It's hard to react as quickly as he clearly needs you to, as his lips roughly press against your own—a sweet pain of clashing teeth and smooth lips. An overwhelming sensation of completeness settles within you, a puzzle piece slides into place.

Gabriel never kisses you—and now a part of you is left wondering what he's trying to prove, trying to assert. You return his kisses as best you can, your hands fisting in his fitted shirt as he forces his way into your mouth. His tongue is aggressive, wanting.

"This is where you belong." He growls.

You're uncertain if he means Blackwatch, or beneath him. Your mind screams— both. Every cell in your body knows it belongs with him from the way it reacts to his presence and his touch.

He dips down for another demanding kiss, melting you further. The way your soft lips seem to glide against his, the expert way he moves his tongue—these are the kinds of kisses you wanted all along. Yet he left you craving for so long. He parts, eyes connecting with yours once more, and you can feel the soft, dazed look you're giving him. Your head is spinning—a whirlwind of pleasure, yearning, and confusion.

His hands release your throat, roughly trailing from the bare neck of your skin past your barely-there top and down to your exposed thighs. Those same hands grip greedily at your flesh, carving his touch into your skin. His eyes no longer meet yours, as they roam hungrily across your body, laid defenseless beneath his own.

"How long?" He begins, swallowing hard. "How long have you been thinking of leaving?"

"A few weeks." You answer honestly, noticing the familiar tick in his jaw. Since the last time, is the part you don't say, that he seems to hear anyway.

"Hold on to me." He says, waiting for you to scoop your arms around his neck before he pulls you up with him. Effortlessly, he carries you away from the clearing—your legs and arms clinging to him as you're taken to whatever fate he has in store for you.

You slip back to earth as your back is slammed into a tree, and you're set back down onto your legs. You know what's coming next.

It's not the time or place to undress, and you both know it. His hands scramble to your button, then to force down your panties and shorts off in one swift push. It then forces its way to your cunt, rough fingers sliding past your thighs and into your wetness to curl against your insides, as his other hand works on freeing himself from his confines. His arms wrap around your legs again, before you're rammed against the tree trunk and pinned between him once more.

Lining himself up at your hole, he teases slightly, coating himself in your wetness as he watches your face—observes the way your lips part and the soft breaths push past your lips. The divine stretch of your entrance is hampered only by the scratch of bark against your back, yet any of it fades from your mind as he buries himself deep.

His eyes pin you like his body does, his brows furrowing in pleasure, his intense gaze unwavering from yours.

A storm of emotion swirls within, something consuming you haven't seen before—something you can't quite describe. And yet you're entranced, lost in the look he's giving you and the feeling of him filling you.

Stretching you. Shaping you.

His hips start to move, a hammering display of brute strength and physical prowess, as you're lost to his dominance—completely surrendered to him as he takes you—hard and fast. No one else can touch you like this—you don't need to even try to know it. What use is love, if it means sacrificing this?

You desperately cling to his neck as his hips move at a relentless pace. His hands slip to your throat once more, one wrapping itself around, the other poking his thumb into your mouth. Unable to help yourself, you lick and suck at the digit, and hold his gaze intently. Like this, you find it so easy to be consumed by that haze once more.

Gabriel's movements are perfect—a kind of precision you'll only find in him. In a man that knows your body like he does, a man that's molded you to react so well to his touch. His cock buried within you is a tight squeeze—one that always starts as a burn before giving way to the most divine feeling, one of being completely stuffed full. Gabriel always has to work to fit himself inside you completely, being blessed with both thickness and length.

Sometimes it hurts, but it hurts so good.

His hold on your neck helps leverage you up and down his thick cock, returning you to the feeling of being a little doll—his precious little thing. Why did you think you could give this up?

He pistons you up and down on his length, and returns to kissing once more. You sigh into his heavenly lips. While he's just as insistent, the pain is absent, as he focuses on using his tongue to swallow your escalating moans.

"Look at me." He groans.

You're unsure when your eyes screwed shut, but they snap open upon hearing his command.

His gaze is burning. "You're not going anywhere. Understood?" He repeats those words, a desperate coercion.

His pace increases, bouncing you up and down with fury. Perhaps if he just tries hard enough, he can fuck this stupid idea of thinking you could survive without him out of your head. Perhaps if he fucks you like his life depends on it, you'll crumble completely into the dependency he craves.

"Yeah, yeah—fuck." You babble mindlessly, feeling like it's hard to think straight, never mind speak.

"When that Overwatch pretty boy told me you'd been asking around for a transfer—" His grip on your throat tightens, stealing your air and centering your focus on him. "—fuck." Like a man possessed, his hips buck wildly. His eyes bore into yours—as if he's trying to get the madness to take you, too. "Do you think you can replace me?"

To you, his words sound severe and threatening. Only he knows of the deep insecurity within. The idea of you with another Commander makes him burn. He wasn't strong enough to maintain propriety and rank to resist taking what he wanted, to resist giving in to the dark thoughts—what chance would anyone else stand? As soon as they saw just how much you needed a guiding hand, a dominant figure, they'd abuse their position too.

"N-no, never!" You whine, answering his interrogation—the noises leaving your throat make it sound as if your brain is going with them. "I need you."

He presses his forehead to yours, his eyes still unwavering as he changes his rhythm. His hips start to roll, moving slowly, but just as deep. "No puedo vivir sin ti." He punctuates his words with one particularly deep thrust, burying himself right into your depths and holding himself there. "Sin esto."

Any hope you had of deciphering his words is lost. His hips continue to roll, as his head drops to the dip of your neck, his mouth working to quickly devour the skin there. The teasing starts with the lips, before his teeth find their way onto your skin, pressing down and marking their path across your bared flesh.

"Mine. Mine." He growls, the devil within him taking over. The rumble of his voice, the possessive nature of his words, and the brush of his facial hair across the tender mark cause you to shiver.

"Yours." You sigh, head dizzy with pleasure, unable to contemplate even responding with anything else. It comes so naturally. You've been his for the longest time—his possession of you only now being spoken of doesn't mean it hasn't always been there.

"Say it louder." His voice is a deep groan as his pace picks up again, the slap of his skin on yours escalating and echoing around the woods. "Let them hear you." He commands.

"I belong to you, Commander." You moan, unable to hold back the volume of the declaration as he viciously fucks it out of you. "I belong to you, Gabriel." The second sentence is a whisper, murmured as you're completely lost in the moment.

As the pleasure of him fucking you rips through you, your hands desperately claw at his back, overwhelmed with feeling. Through the thin fabric, you can feel the scars left behind by others. You battle with the feeling of wanting to leave your own, of wanting to mark him like he's marked you.

"I want you to come on my cock." Gabriel demonstrates his wish by grinding into you, his cock pushing in deeper as he gives your clit delicious friction.

The dizzying combination makes you babble your assent, as you focus on reaching your peak and obeying his command. "'m already close." You sigh, breath ragged as you're fucked into the hard trunk.

"Gonna finish with you." He nips at your neck again, sucking into the same tender spot and undoubtedly leaving a mark. "Gonna fill you up and—" His hips stutter for a moment, his grasp tightening. "—claim you."

The word alone could send you over the edge, but combined with his complete possession of your body, you find yourself flying over the edge with a scream ripping from your throat. "I'm coming!"

"Come on my cock, hermosa. Remember where you belong." He whispers in your ear as you spasm and flutter. "Fuck!" As you clench around his length, dealing with the aftermath of your own high, Gabriel's hips shove his cock deep within you one last time, stretching you wide as he spills inside you, coating your insides.A strangled growl pushes past his lips, sending sensitive shivers throughout you. "Mine." The way you're pressed together so tight allows your sensitive cunt to feel every spasm, notice every drop spurting into you, and the way he fucks his cum deeper inside you.

After a moment of regaining your breath while still desperately clinging to Gabriel, he sets you down on shaky legs, waiting for you to be steady before he pulls away.

"I'll be right back." He grunts, tucking himself away and jogging to his tent, before returning with a small cloth. You simply watch as he wipes away the mess, cleaning up your swollen hole with tenderness. He helps you get dressed without a word, kissing you on the forehead before setting himself down on the nearby grass, and patting the ground for you to join him once more.

"Seems like no one woke up." He comments, as you take your seat beside him. Gabriel reclines back into the grass, his hand cradling his head as he looks at you expectantly—waiting to take your place upon his chest.

When you blink at him in confusion, he holds out his hand. You take it, and he pulls you close—you easily find his chest as your new pillow. In a matter of moments, he's undone you, wrecked your plans, gotten under your skin once more. He's baited you artfully, switched on you, then switched again.

You settle into him, nuzzling into his neck as his hand finds his way to your head, immediately playing with your hair. Once more, you finally get the softness, but only after the suffering.

"Or, they're just scared of coming out and facing your wrath for interrupting us." You mumble sleepily, eyes fluttering shut as comfort washes over you.

"It would be quite the wrath." He chuckles, a much softer sound than you're used to.

Something unspoken hangs in the air, something neither of you dare to address.

There's no escape from this back and forth—but why would you ever want there to be? Maybe the feeling that it's still not enough could be enough to break you again. But it is enough, for now at least. He needs you—but not in the way you want to be needed. The words you'd longed to hear for so long, surely they were just a product of the moment—carnal desires rather than chaste ones. Despite him saying more, you know even less.

You feel your limp body pulled closer to his chest, as you fade in and out of consciousness. Despite the occasional moment of clarity, you can't find it within yourself to move, or even open your eyes again. You feel him move, picking you up as he begins to walk. All you crave is to drift off on his chest once more. Even now you feel his warmth, feel surrounded by his smell.

You're barely holding on to the waking world as your body is laid down gently. The rustling of tent fabric is barely there, your head feeling like it's underwater.

The words that come are far away, but you swear you hear them nevertheless—drifting into your mind, deep into your subconscious. You must be slipping into a pleasant dream, of niceties and mythical things that will never come to be. He whispers lightly into the darkness, his voice just sneaking in.

"Don't go. I love you."

#gabriel reyes x reader #reaper x reader #reaper overwatch #overwatch x reader #overwatch fanfiction #gabriel reyes

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montcumbry-gaytor · 1 year

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My Masterlist ❦︎

due to my dumb dumb dumbass im creating this Masterlist because idfk why i didn't sooner ( i know why )

all of these are male readers, this is a gay blog, don't expect anything more.

If you want to add to the list, heres my rules before you request 👍

* = Smut, Which is most of the content

° = Suggestive

The Crow

Eric Draven

Bullet with Butterfly Wings Index

Turn me on Mr.Deadman ( Eric x Vamp!Reader ) *

If i was your Vampire ( Vamp!Eric x Reader ) *

Call of Duty

David "Hesh" Walker

Twenties ( Hesh x Reader )

Simon "Ghost" Riley

COD Men x Reader with a big ass °

John "Soap" MacTavish

COD Men x Reader with a big ass °

Alejandro Vargas

COD Men x Reader with a big ass °

Jonathan Price

COD Men x Reader with a big ass °

Konig

COD Men x Reader with a big ass °

Frank Woods

Frank Woods x Reader *

MCU

Tony "Iron Man" Stark