Hiiii Congratulations In 1k You Deserve It So Much!

Hiiii congratulations in 1k you deserve it so much!

not sure if this is how to request a prompt for your 1k celebration but can I get "reader gets injured" with Simon please

1K Prompts

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader

Warnings: Injury, Hospitals, Angst with Happy Ending, Indirect Mentions to Simon’s Abuse

Summary: He hasn't done it in a long while.

Word Count: 1.8K (Not Edited)

There is nothing in the world.

It all disappears in a blur as his mind races. His mind, his thoughts, are faster than the car. He can’t make out anything zooming past his window, barely even recognizes the colors or the feel of the wheel under his hands. He’s jittery, highly agitated as he yells and slams on his horn. He doesn’t even process the words he’s saying, doesn’t even know if they’re even words. Maybe they’re just sounds, grunts and wordless screams. He doesn't know, doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter right now. Nothing matters right now. Nothing will matter until he makes it to the hospital.

He needs a new car, he thinks. This one is too slow. It’s max isn’t fast enough. At this point, it’d be faster for him to get into a car accident and be driven in an ambulance to the hospital than this piece of junk truck. It makes him grit his teeth, swerving in and out of lanes and breaking traffic laws he doesn’t care to keep count of. He can vaguely make out Price’s car behind him, Johnny in the car behind Price’s. Don’t say that, he can hear Price say in his head, Don’t say that, Simon. Especially not now.

Great, now his own fucking thoughts are making him feel guilty.

He doesn’t really park, he runs over the curb actually. It causes everyone to jump back, throwing mean words at him that don’t land. The keys are still in the ignition, trusting Gaz will take care of it. Who gives a damn about that fucking car anyways, Simon thinks. He’s already made up his mind that he’s getting a new one. A sports car maybe, not for the looks but for the speed. He’ll have to do research on the fastest car money can buy when he’s home. When both of you are home.

The cold air of the hospital makes him shiver once he runs inside. He looks lost for a second, eyes scanning the new environment for his goal. His eyes skip over the reception desk before rapidly darting back. Once his eyes lock on it, he walks with purpose. His eyes don’t stray, effectively maneuvering his body around the busy waiting room and lobby until he’s right in front of it. He doesn’t realize his hands are shaking until he plants them on the desk. His fingers tremble and jerk, skin flinching with the feeling of absolute dread running through his body.

“How ca-”

“Last name Riley. Car accident.” He cuts the receptionist off. His voice has the hard edge he uses with the recruits. It doesn’t faze the receptionist.

He’s impatient as they tap away at the computer, their eyebrows furrowed and they ask Simon for more information like your first name and sex. Simon gives them irritably, almost blowing a fuse when they ask for his relationship with the patient.

“Spouse.”

He has never been annoyed to declare that to someone before. But he finds little reason to be prideful and happy right now.

“Still in surgery, but you and your group can wait in the waiting room to the left. A surgical doctor should be out shortly with news.”

Simon turns around, not even noticing the rest of 141 standing patiently behind him. His eyes scan them, nodding before he turns and walks robotically to the waiting room. Price politely thanked the receptionist for him before following after Simon. Simon throws himself into an empty seat, leg bouncing against the floor. His eyes find the doors that lead to surgical suits. His arms wrap around his chest, attempting to keep his racing heart in his chest. A harsh breath is exhaled from his nose, getting caught under his balaclava. It gets a few stares from some of the families in the waiting room, some clutching their smaller children closer to them. Simon would usually take it off for the sole purpose of not drawing attention to himself, but he can’t find it in himself to care. Or, he doesn’t feel like he can. It feels like it's the only thing keeping him together right now. If he takes it off, he’ll come crumbling down. The fake composure will die away with the exposure and he’ll die before knowing if you’re alright. Depending on the answer, he might not make it through the night.

A cup is placed in front of his face and Simon follows the hand up to the face of Johnny. Simon takes it, the warmth feeling strange against his skin. He doesn’t drink from it. Johnny and him don’t exchange words, turning to take the seat across from him and next to Gaz. Price is in the chair next to Simon, all four of them silent. Johnny stares at Simon, Simon stares at the floor, Price flips through outdated magazines from the coffee table beside him, and Gaz is surveying the space. All of them are still clad in their military gear, just gotten off the plane when Simon-- when Ghost-- got the call. Gaz cracks his knuckles and Simon has to bite his tongue to rest the urge to tell him to shut up.

He resorts to counting the seconds that pass in his head. He loses count whenever the steel doors open and a doctor and nurse comes out. His head snaps up, the boys following his line of sight as the doctor peers over at the clipboard the nurse has. He prepares to shoot up when the doctor’s surgical mask shifts with jaw movement. He starts back from one when the name being called isn’t Riley. He thinks his heart shrinks with every name that passes. Price always pats his back with a ‘the next one, mate’.

Sometimes between the seconds and names, Simon finds his forehead leaning against his folded hands. His eyes are shut tightly and he tries to do something he hasn’t done in a long time, something he has believed to not work for a long time. Simon sits and he prays. He prays. He doesn’t remember if there is a process he's supposed to follow. He only remembers all his past prayers had been rushed, hiccuped statements made after his father left his room or when he heard the yelling in the kitchen. They never got answered.

Is he supposed to start with something? Is he supposed to have a rosary or a bible or something in his hands? His hands are still covered with dirt from the battlefield, he reeks of smoke and gunfire. Is he clean enough to be praying? Does God or whatever up there care? He hopes they don’t, hopes they give him a free pass just this once. He hopes they do it for your sake. He hopes and prays and hopes some more. Is it enough? It doesn’t feel like enough.

Is Simon supposed to sweet talk them? Butter them up until their egos are fed and find him worthy of listening to. He isn’t good at that. Or does he need to be direct? Demanding what he wants and not backing down until he gets it? He’s really good at that. You would probably know what to do. Even if you don’t, you’d probably have a solution that makes sense. Everything makes sense when it's you. You make everything make sense. Simon doesn’t know how he lived so long without it. He doesn’t want to be reminded.

He debates getting up. Debates if he should go to the receptionist and ask them where the hospital’s chapel is. Maybe he’ll find whatever the fuck the religious connection guy is and ask them how to pray. Ask them to teach him. Or maybe he’ll ask them to pray for you. He’s sure they have a better chance of being answered then he does. But a fear glues him to his seat. What if he leaves and your name gets called? What if he isn’t there when it happens? What if he isn’t there for you again? He sits and he hopes and he prays.

Please. Please, whoever, whatever can hear me, don’t take them from me. Stop taking people I care about away from me.

He hopes it is enough. He hopes they hear him and they remember the shit they put him through. He hopes they take pity on him. Simon hates when people feel sorry for him. He hopes they feel really bad and really sorry and really, really awful for what he had to go through. He hopes they find him to be the most pitiful human there ever was to exist. He hopes it's enough to save you. He hopes they decided to be nice to him today.

And they are. Holy fuck they are.

The doctor comes out, a nurse with clipboard following three times. Simon gets up the fourth time, before the name is even called. Price and Johnny and Gaz stand with him.

“Riley.”

He flies. He flies across the room, ‘Here. I’m here. That’s me.’ He doesn’t know if he says those words aloud or in his head. The doctor watches him approach and Simon almost collapses to the ground when his surgical mask moves. He doesn’t catch everything, his mind being too slow to follow. Traumatic brain trauma. Bleeding. Successful. Lucky. Strong. Fighter. Okay.

Okay, okay, okay.

He thinks Price keeps him upright when he grabs his arm to pat him in the back. Simon grabs him back, pulling him close and his shoulders shake as he hides his face. He feels like a kid, crying into his captain’s shoulder as relief washes over him. Price squeezes him. The two of them say nothing, and Johnny and Gaz excuse themselves to get everyone food from the hospital cafeteria.

Later, Simon finds himself in your hospital room. The chair is slightly more comfortable than the ones in the waiting room. The boys have gone home by now, promising to drop by and telling Simon to keep them updated. Usually, constant noise would irritate Simon. But he finds himself thankful every time the heart monitor beeps, praying the noise never stops. He must have dozed off because he’s confused when he feels the slight rubbing on his hand. The sound of the heart monitor is different, still consistent but a bit faster.

He pulls his head from his arms, propping his chin on his forearm as his gaze drifts to your face. Your eyes are half-lidded and sleepy, face drenched in exhaustion. You are so absolutely beautiful that it's devastating. It punctures his lungs and deflates his body of any breath he will ever take. His heart beats rapidly, hand squeezing yours tightly as his spine straightens. He has to resist the urge to pull you to him and crush you against his frame.

You give him a dopey smile, one stained with tiredness and the remains of the anesthetic.

“Hi.”

Your voice is croaky and your speech is slurred. It’s beautiful and the most lovely sound to exist.

Simon brings your knuckles to his chapped lips. He presses a firm kiss to them, eyes squeezed shut so tightly that a few drops of water drop onto your skin.

“Hi.”

His voice is just as croaky and just as beautiful.

Got a little carried away with this one.

A 7-Part Worldbuilding Template

View of Pirna from the Sonnenstein Castle (details)
Bernardo Bellotto
c. 1755

PART 1: The Basics

What is your world called?

Estimate its population:

In one sentence, describe your world:

Is it set on: Earth; Alternate Earth; Not Earth / Another planet

PART 2: Geography

THE NATURAL WORLD Flora & Fauna; Creatures; Landscape; Diseases

How was the world created? How long ago was it created?

How do the laws of physics work?

How does the solar system move? What celestial beings exist (suns, stars, moons, etc.) and how do they relate to the world?

Flora & Fauna

How does the flora differ from region to region?

Do any plants have special or magical properties? Are any dangerous?

Creatures

What kind of wildlife roams which parts of your world? Where are they most commonly found?

How did the wildlife evolve?

Do mythical creatures such as dragons exist? How do they fit into the ecosystem?

Landscape

Where are the mountain ranges? Rivers? Forests? Deserts? Seas?

How does the terrain interact with its inhabitants?

Are there any “natural wonders” in your world? How were they formed?

Diseases

What natural diseases have evolved over time?

How are they transmitted?

How has this affected population growth?

LOCATIONS OF SIGNIFICANCE Capital City; Flags & Symbols

What are the major cities in your world? Ports? Most populated metropolises?

Is your world split geographically? (e.g. rural and urban, north and south, etc.) If so, how?

Capital City

What is the capital city of the world?

Why is it the capital?

Flags & Symbols

How does each city choose to represent itself (crest, flags, signature colors)?

WEATHER

What are the processes of your world that drive weather and ocean patterns?

Are certain regions more vulnerable to certain weather conditions?

Climate

How does the climate differ in each region?

What are the seasons like in your world? How many seasons are there?

PART 3: People

RACES & SPECIES Physical Build; Mannerisms & Etiquette; Customs & Rituals; Festivals

What intelligent species or races populate your world? Dwarves? Elves? Xenomorphs? Other? How did they come to exist?

How does each race or species perceive each other? How do they co-exist?

Physical Build

What do the inhabitants of your world look like? Do they have any distinguishing features?

What is the societal standard for beauty? How might this differ in each region of the world?

Mannerisms & Etiquette

What is the code of conduct between people of different ranks or classes? People of different cities or regions? Elders?

How do people in your world convey non-verbal boredom? Disbelief? Happiness? Respect?

What would be a gesture that is universally insulting in your world?

What etiquette exists in different parts of your world?

Customs & Rituals

Are there any rites of passages in your world? “Coming of age” celebrations? If so, what age marks the transition from child to adult?

What traditions surround death and burial? What about engagements and proposals of marriage?

Festivals

What are the important festivals of your world?

Why are they celebrated?

LANGUAGES Sayings; Accents; Greetings

How many languages exist in your world? How did they originate?

Which language is spoken most? Is there a universal language?

How do naming conventions differ in each region?

Sayings

What are common sayings? Idioms? Insults? “Untranslatable” words that only a certain group of people would understand?

Accents

If different languages exist, how does this affect the accents in your world? What do the accents say about the person (place of origin, social class, level of education, etc.)?

Greetings

How do people of the same race greet each other? How do people of different races greet one another?

Is there an informal and formal way to greet others depending on the level of familiarity (i.e. friends, acquaintances, elders, superiors, etc.)? What are the proper forms of address?

SOCIAL FRAMEWORKS Class or Caste Systems; Family Structure; Marriage

What social frameworks underlie the communities in your world?

What are the social taboos? What would one need to do in order to be kicked out of society?

Class or Caste Systems

Is there a class system? If so, how much emphasis does society place on it?

What are the tell-tale signs that a person belongs to a certain class?

How does class affect professions and trades in your world? Can anyone become a priest or a wizard, for example — or is it a privilege restricted to certain members of the hierarchy?

Family Structure

What is the normal family unit?

What is the social system within a family unit in your world? Patriarchal? Matriarchal?

What constitutes a good father? A good mother? A good child?

Marriage

How is marriage defined in your world? Is marriage a civil or religious institution?

Do people marry for love? If not, why do they marry?

PART 4: Civilization

HISTORY

How did civilization begin?

When was the earliest known record of history?

What were the significant wars that have taken place on your world’s soil? How have they shaped the present?

Can your world’s history be divided into significant eras (e.g. Georgian, Victorian, Edwardian, etc.)?

Myths

What myths exist in your world to explain the cosmos? How might this have in turn shaped religion?

How were stories passed through generations?

CULTURE Literature, Art & Music; Clothing; Cuisine

Is national culture and history a source of pride or shame in your world? How is it preserved?

What are some things that define each culture? What would a person from a certain city, region, or country be proudest of?

Literature, Art & Music

What is the role of the arts in your world’s culture? How is it perceived by society and how has it evolved?

Who are some celebrated or noted artists in history? What they known for?

How might the arts have changed as a result of outside influences (from other regions, cities, races, etc.)?

Are any of the arts taboo? If so, why?

Clothing

What is the customary dress? Is it gendered? If so, how?

What is considered fashionable and how does this differ from region to region?

How does the clothing one wears reflect status?

What is the dress code for each profession? How strictly followed must it be?

Cuisine

What are the regional dishes? How might this differ depending on the climate and environment?

Is there a difference between what the poor and the rich eat? What is considered a luxurious food? What is considered a staple food?

How are mealtimes approached? Is there a set hour to be at the table? Are there traditions that precede or follow a meal?

RELIGION Gods & Deities; Holy Texts; Significant Prophets

How do people worship in your world?

When and where do people worship?

Gods & Deities

Who are the major and minor gods that people worship?

What function do the gods serve in society?

Holy Texts

What (if any) holy texts exist?

How well-known are the scriptures? Would people of all ages be able to recite them on the spot if asked ?

Significant Prophets

Who are the important religious figures in the world?

For what reason are they significant?

EDUCATION

Does formal education exist? If so, who can access it? The rich? The clergy? Everyone in the general population?

If magic exists in your world, how is it studied? Do schools exist to train it?

What are literacy rates among the general population? How does this affect communication and the distribution of information?

LEISURE

How do people spend their leisure time in your world? What forms of entertainment are most common?

Are there any organized sports in your world? How might its rules and regulations differ from the ordinary?

PART 5: Technology, Magic & Weapons

MAGIC SYSTEMS Rules of Magic; Practitioning Magicians

For what purpose is magic used in your world? Who can use it?

What limits are there to its power? What are the consequences of using it?

What is the history of magic and magicians in your world?

How does society view magic? Positively? Negatively? As the Other?

Rules of Magic

How does magic work in your world? Where does it come from?

Is there a language that’s needed in order to call forth magic? If so, what are its roots?

Is magic regulated in any way? What is the governing body?

Practitioning Magicians

What are magicians’ status in society? Are they trusted advisors of kings or charlatans on the road?

How many magicians exist in your world? How do they perceive one another?

TECHNOLOGY

How advanced is the technology in your world? How does it work?

How does technology impact the different parts of society? Transportation? Communication? Medicine?

How does magic and technology interact and co-exist? Is it a rivalry? A co-op? Are there rules and regulations?

WEAPONRY Signature Weapons; Common Weapons

What weapons are predominant in your world (ranged, combat, anti-gravity, etc.) and why?

Who makes the weapons? How do they work? Is it easy to obtain them?

Signature Weapons

Are there special weapons (e.g. Thor’s Hammer)?

How are they made? How many of them exist in the world?

Common Weapons

Are there professions that necessitate the bearing of weapons?

What about religions?

PART 6: Economy

ECONOMICS

On which economic system does your world operate? A market economy? Feudalism? Socialism?

Is there a central bank?

How does the government regulate businesses?

TRADE & COMMERCE Currency; Major Imports & Exports; Natural Resources

How is trade facilitated? Is it carried out by traveling merchants? By a guild? Are there auctions?

What cities, countries, or regions are allies? Trade partners? How has this changed throughout history?

How is the soft power of a region, city, or country determined?

Currency

Is there a universal currency? If not, what are the regional currencies? What is the valuation?

How is the currency circulated and what are the denominations?

Can the currency be broken down into units (dollars, cents, dimes, quarters)?

Major Imports & Exports

What are the major exports of the region or city? Imports? How might this have evolved throughout history?

Does a particular region specialize in particular trade (i.e. livestock, weaponry, etc.)? Why?

Natural Resources

What resources are natural in each part of your world?

How does this affect trade and trade relationships?

TRANSPORTATION

How easy it is to travel within a city and outside of a city? What modes of transportation exist (horse, anti-gravity car, etc.)?

How is information disseminated all over your world (ink and paper, owl, newspaper, messenger)?

BUSINESS

What crafts or trades are highly valued in your world?

Are some professions considered more elite or respectable than others? How so?

How do people advance in their fields? Are there apprenticeships? How easy is social mobility?

What is the normal work schedule for the average person? What is the average income?

PART 7: Politics

GOVERNMENT

What is the form of government? Is it a monarchy? Republic? Empire? Theocracy?

What are the responsibilities of the government? How far does the government’s sphere of influence spread (magic, religion, etc.)?

How is the government perceived? Is it trusted by the people or is there tension?

LAW Justice Systems; War Systems

What is the rule of law in your world? How is law enforced? What are the most important laws?

What are the punishments for breaking the law?

Justice Systems

What is the legal process in your world? How are people tried?

How does magic fit into the legal system? Is it above the law?

War Systems

How is war declared? Is there a formal process that a country must go through in order to engage in war?

What is the command structure of the army?

How big is the army? Is it composed of humans? Non-humans? Both?

Source ⚜ More: Writing Worksheets & Templates Writing References: Plot ⚜ Character ⚜ Worldbuilding

186 notes View Post

callsign-hali

2 months ago

━━━━━ ʕ•㉨•ʔ ━━━━━━

Commissions Open!

۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝꒷۰★۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝꒷۰۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝

Hello everybody! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

I'm now accepting commissions for custom furry/beast/animal art. Whether you’re looking for a unique headshot, a colouring base or even a character designer, I’ve got you covered.

Headshot (Flat-Color): 15€ – 20€

Headshot (CEL Shaded): 20€ – 30€

۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝꒷۰★۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝꒷۰۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝

Slots available:

2/3

Before ordering a commission, check my TOS on my website!

━━━━━ ʕ•㉨•ʔ ━━━━━━

6 notes View Post

callsign-hali

1 year ago

So... I draw other things than marble hornets. Just sometimes. I love them dearly.

1K notes View Post

callsign-hali

1 year ago

Johnny Slaughter x Reader housewife request

Cut this down to just the smut, you heathens

Contains: blood, knifeplay, cutting, marking, and smut

Johnny Slaughter X Reader Housewife Request

You were in the middle of stirring scrambled eggs when you felt a hand slip down the waistband of your shorts, sending a shock shooting down your spine.

"Johnny, I don't get how you're always so quiet," you said, giggling as you felt him press his toned body against yours from behind, his fingers toying with the lace of your black panties.

"Huntin' works better when your prey don't know you're comin'," he whispered against your ear before nipping your earlobe.

"You don't have to hunt me, baby. I'd be as easy to hunt as roadkill," you joked. Johnny smirked against your ear, the validity of your statement all too true.

"You're too pretty to be roadkill, babydoll," he rumbled. "I'd make you into a trophy. Hang you in my bedroom so I could look at your beautiful face every night 'fore I fell asleep."

It took some time before you'd gotten used to his fascination with keeping trophies, but the numerous animal heads hanging on your walls showed he wasn't slowing down any time soon. You leaned your weight back against him, enjoying the feel of his bare torso, and smiled as his lips trailed down your neck.

Still, the hardness you felt pressing against your backside proved that the outfit you'd worn to entice him had worked, and your mind was already becoming hazy with lust.

"I been thinkin'," Johnny said, kissing the nape of your neck, "you'd make the most fuckable little housewife."

Your pulse fluttered against his lips. You'd never pushed him for anything; you'd been happy just being his girl. But the word "housewife" made your heart race. He hooked a thumb in your waistband and pulled your shorts and panties down, and his fingers quickly found your already soaked slit.

"Oh yeah?" You gasped as he dipped his fingers inside you. "You think so?"

He murmured an affirmative against your skin while he rocked his hips against your butt. "I know it. What do you think, babydoll? You wanna get married?"

Your lips curled, one of your hands flipping the burners off on the stove before you turned around to face him. His head was cocked to the side, a handsome smile on his face. Your eyes trailed down his bare chest, pausing at each scar, each one telling a different story before looking up into his deep brown eyes. "It's a tempting proposal, but I could use some convincing. Why don't you make me?"

He smiled, but it wasn't friendly. No, it was more like a predator, the type to make your blood run cold.

"Alright, I'll make you, darlin'. If you really want me to, I will."

You felt like a rabbit in a snare, squeezed between his muscular body and the stove, completely at his mercy.

"What'll it be, sugar?" He asked, his hands on your hips, and his eyes trailing down to your cleavage before snapping back up to meet your gaze.

You leaned forward and cupped the bulge in his jeans with one hand.

"Make me."

That was all it took. Johnny's fingers sank into your hips almost painfully as he yanked you against him. "You'll eat those words, darlin'," he growled.

Then he dropped to his knees and pulled your hips against his lips like a man starved. You gripped his wrists while his broad hands cupped your ass, forcing your hips toward him as he burrowed into you.

He always loved eating you out, but this time there was a primal aspect to the way he licked and nipped at your folds. Your fingers entwined in his dark locks as you moaned his name while he traced your entrance, gathering every last drop of your sticky wetness.

Johnny twirled his tongue around your clit and dove in so hard you could feel his teeth against your lips, his tongue curling upward, lifting your hips into his hungry mouth.

Desire dripped down your thighs, mingling with his saliva, while your muscles clenched and shivered. They remained taut, each nerve pulsating with sensation. It felt like an exhilarating marathon, beautiful agony traveling from your thighs to your hips. Moans spilled from your lips, and you tried to draw him closer, but he withdrew.

"This pretty little pussy is mine," he said, his voice low and possessive, before thrusting two fingers into you, making you whimper and tug at his hair. His lips descended upon your clit, nibbling it, sending sparks of both torment and ecstasy throughout your body.

"You're such a slut for me, baby girl." His fingers moved to tease your sweet spot, making your toes curl. "So fucking wet."

He stood, and you whined at the loss of his tormenting touch. His eyes were hungry and dangerous. "You're going to be my pretty little housewife, aren't you, baby?"

You gasped as he pressed against you, his hands on either side of the stove, trapping you.

"I could be," you purred, "but… I'm not entirely convinced."

His gaze darkened. "You're mine," he hissed, a predatory snarl forming at the corner of his lips.

"Prove it," you whispered breathlessly. His pupils dilated, and suddenly, you felt the tip of a blade pressing against the soft skin of your stomach.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you looked up at him. Fear mingled with a strange sense of excitement, sending tingles shooting through you.

"Johnny?" You whispered as your mouth ran dry.

"You ever watch someone die?" He said, more to himself than to you.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. Johnny had always had a fascination with his Bowie knife, and sometimes you'd glimpse it stained with fresh blood, but he had never wielded it against you—until now.

"You ain't never quite the same after that, lemme tell ya."

Both of your eyes fixed on the blade as he subtly twisted it, drawing a single droplet of blood from your delicate skin. You winced, but you didn't concentrate on the pain as you were enraptured by the intense look on Johnny's face.

With the pad of his thumb, he traced the droplet and brought it to his lips. You were immobilized, watching as his eyes fluttered closed, savoring your essence. A low growl rumbled in his throat, as if your blood were an exquisite ambrosia.

Johnny had given you love bites, sure, but this was the first time he'd purposefully tasted your blood. You could tell he reveled in it, and part of you wondered why he never asked to try it before.

You would have let him, after all. He could've had any and all of you that he desired.

As the unfamiliar tingle of blood leaving your body coursed through you, he picked you up roughly, and your legs wrapped around his hips reflexively. Your blood smeared against his abs, but he didn't seem to mind; in fact, it seemed to arouse him even more as he carried you to your shared bedroom and laid you down like an offering.

Your eyes remained wide, adrenaline surging through you as he unzipped his pants and revealed his gorgeous erection, stroking it hungrily while his eyes devoured your body. He looked at you like a man might admire an ice sculpture, as if he expected that he wouldn't get to admire your beauty much longer.

"Baby?" You asked hesitantly as you tried to sit up in bed.

Something sinister sparked behind his eyes, and he left the room briefly, returning with a handful of rope. "Oh, you ain't getting away. I'm keeping you," he snarled, then knelt on the bed beside you, tying your wrists together and then to the bedpost with ease.

A rush surged behind your ears as he immobilized you, leaving only your legs free, trembling with both arousal and fear.

How did he know how to handle the rope like that? He'd never tied you up before, but the way he did it so effortlessly spoke of practiced experience. You'd always felt that Johnny was hiding something from you, and you had a suspicion it was directly related to his ability to make you feel absolutely helpless.

But what Johnny didn't know was, some part of you had been waiting for this. You were more soaked than you could ever remember being before, and the unadulterated bloodlust he exuded was intensely alluring.

"You ain't going anywhere," he growled, his eyes ablaze with an intensity you had never witnessed before. Your blood gleamed on his torso, and every sinew of his body appeared tightly wound, poised for imminent action. "Ready to meet the Bad Man?"

"The Bad Man from your dreams?" You let out a trembling whimper. Now, this was the figure you'd only encountered in Johnny's waking nightmares. Those harrowing nights when he'd awaken in terror, locked in a life-and-death struggle with an invisible foe. Those nights when he shielded you with his body even in slumber, and upon waking, he remained unconvinced of your safety for days upon days.

"Darlin', he's all too real," he murmured, his words dripping with a chilling anticipation. With deliberate slowness, he drew nearer, his eyes locked onto yours. When his face finally met yours, he seized your head and tilted it to the side, trailing his tongue from your collarbone to your ear, where he clamped down with savage intensity. A sharp cry escaped your lips as he pressed his body flush against yours, the taste of fresh blood flooding his ravenous mouth.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned as he ground his hips against your stomach, his length squeezed between you both. Tears welled in your eyes, but you felt more alive than you'd ever felt before.

"Johnny," you whimpered as he continued to suck your earlobe.

"You wanted this, darlin'," he said with a chilling laugh.

You bit your lip. "I-I'm not asking you to stop."

And, for some reason, that gave him pause.

"Really?" He asked, pulling back. His lips were bloodstained, but that wildfire that had consumed him was simmering behind his gaze as he regarded you with equal parts possession and hunger.

You nodded. "Yes, really. I always knew there was something you were hiding. I want you to know I love you. All of you, Johnny," you said, even as your body shook. "And," you let your wrists go slack, "I like being claimed by you like this."

Something in Johnny shifted then. It was almost too much, the flood of emotions that swept over him, and he didn't realize it, but you felt his tears splatter against your skin.

"I love you more," he said, his voice barely a whisper. You'd heard him say it before, especially during sex, but this was different. It sent chills rippling through you. And when his aching cock slid into your wetness, you both gasped in pure ecstasy.

He gripped your thighs, pulling you against him, and groaned deeply. You felt so good that he couldn't help but pick up the pace, driving into you with a fervor. All your nerve endings coiled and tensed, already hypersensitive, and you wrapped your legs around his powerful hips in euphoria.

"I'm gonna make sure you ain't never forget who owns you," he said, and you mewled in response as he withdrew from you and reached to the bedside table, taking his knife in hand. You caught your reflection in the silver blade, your skin flushed, your lips parted and panting. You couldn't wait to see what he'd do.

Johnny used two fingers to gently circle your clit, keeping you on edge as he traced the tip of the knife between your breasts, down your belly, and to your hip where he'd marked you earlier. His motions slowed to allow him better control, and he pressed the tip of the blade into your skin again, a little deeper than before.

You winced but didn't move as he etched into your skin. Your body was screaming to have him back inside you, and his slow circles on your clit were driving you mad with desire. Pain was indistinguishable from pleasure as he carved your skin like an artist working on a masterpiece. When he finished, he dipped his head and ran his tongue along the marks he'd made. When he withdrew his tongue, you caught the small JS he'd carved just above your hip before blood obscured it.

"Mine," he said once more, and this time, you didn't argue. After all, no one else had their initials etched into your flesh.

Johnny continued to play with your clit as he positioned himself at your entrance before pushing into you again. You'd submitted to him before, but this time was different. This time, you felt nothing but pure bliss. You were his, it could no longer be denied, nor would you ever want to deny it.

The resounding slap of his balls colliding with your sopping wetness was lewd enough to make your mind spin, or perhaps it was the blood loss, but either way, you felt light-headed and airy under his command. One hand moved to cup your breast while the other continued to assist his cock in driving you to the brink.

"Are you going to be my perfect little housewife?" He asked, pressing his forehead against yours as he thrust deeply into you. You could see two sides to him, the vicious and the docile, in harmony in his rapturous gaze.

"I will," you conceded, your breaths coming in sharp pants while he pistoned into your exquisitely viscous core.

"Cum for me, babydoll," he commanded. The tension that had been building since the moment he approached you sprung loose, and you climaxed hard around his throbbing length. With a guttural groan and a final, deep thrust, you felt his climax paint your inner walls before he collapsed on top of you, completely spent.

You wanted to wrap your arms around him, but they were still tied to the bedposts, so instead, you kept your legs locked around his hips and nuzzled your cheek against the top of his head. He looked up at you with the same smile that had melted your heart the first day you met him.

"Thank you, babydoll. Thank you."

669 notes View Post

callsign-hali

1 year ago

Any Johnny Slaughter/Sawyer fans want to tell me what they'd like to see in a Johnny fic? I'm studying up on writing one right now, and if you have something that fits in my idea I'd love to write it in for you! Smut is totally allowed BTW 😜

14 notes View Post