☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Quite The Party

They are there for business they promise

A man in the woods,,,

@troywagner

That angry Johnny song is gonna be playing through my head the entire time I write this Johnny Slaughter/Sawyer fanfic I swear

[1920s!Brian]

Run To You.

How would your boys react to you tapping them out after months of being apart from one another?

Characters Included - Task Force 141, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, König

Warnings - None.

Total Word Count - 2.6k

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Word Count - 0.3k

The moment that your arms extend to wrap around him, he pulls you into a bone-crushing embrace, lifting you from your place on the ground and holding you against him. Your face buries into his shoulder, tears falling from your eyes as a light laugh tumbles from your parted lips. Your legs work to wrap over his waist, pulling yourself impossibly closer to him. 

You can feel Simon begin to shake against you the longer that he holds you in his arms, no doubt overwhelmed by the sheer amount of relief and comfort he felt in your presence. You had had that effect on him for as long as you had been part of his life, calming any raging storm with something as simple as a touch against his shoulder. 

And now, in a moment when he believed that he’d be standing until his legs gave out, there you were. He had noticed you almost immediately upon your arrival, heart swelling as your eyes darted through the rows of soldiers, eyebrows knit together in concentration as you searched for him. The minute that your eyes caught sight of him, your lips turned upward in a teary smile, feet carrying you to his direction at such a speed he was worried you might accidentally barrel into him. 

Simon doesn’t bother to contain his smile as you shift in his arms, pulling back just enough to make eye contact with him. You tearfully smile down at him, your hands cupping either side of his masked face, thumbs stroking against the familiar skull pattern as he gazes so lovingly up at you. 

“Hi,” you finally manage to whisper, your lips still turned upward in that smile that Simon adored. He returns it, the crinkle in his eyes being the indicator that he was smiling just as softly back at you. His arms squeeze around your waist, hand supporting you from below to keep you against him for however long he wanted. 

“Hi,” he returns, his eyes momentarily closing as your forehead presses against his. Your hands still gently hold the sides of his face, a content breath falling from your nose as you both enjoy the other’s presence. Simon can feel his chest warm as he feels your thumbs continue to stroke his face. In that moment, he’s home.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Word Count - 0.3k

He can’t help but choke up as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him against you and letting out a teary laugh into his shoulder. Of course, he’s swift in returning your embrace, nearly knocking you over as he all but collapses into you. He truly doesn’t care who sees; he cries into you, tears dripping onto your hair as he presses his cheek against your head. All he cares about is the fact that you’re there.

Johnny pulls away from you after a minute of holding you, his hands lifting to tenderly hold the sides of your face. He steers your face towards his own, slotting his lips against your own. He doesn’t care about the taste of your tears against his lips, or how you try to hold back your sobs as he kisses you. 

He pulls away only when the need to breathe becomes too strong for the both of you, his hands still holding your face as you tearfully smile at him. “God, I missed you,” he breathes out, smiling at you as you lift your hands to mimic his actions, the both of you standing with your hands on the other’s face. 

You bite back the sobs as they rise in your throat, remembering the months that you’d spent practically wasting away in your apartment, simply waiting for Johnny to return home to you. But those months mean nothing to you now, not when he was standing in front of you.

“I missed you more,” you say finally, reaching out to wrap your arms around Johnny again, laughing to yourself as he grunts at the tight embrace. But the tightness of your hug only emulates the love that you hold for him. How no matter what, you would be there for him should he need it. Johnny would forever be thankful for you, and would forever be with you.

Even if forever came in the form of his rusted dog tags. 

Captain John Price

Word Count - 0.3k

The minute that his eyes land on you weaving your way through the crowd is when he can feel his tears burning the backs of his eyes, blurring his gaze. He tries his hardest to keep them at bay as you draw closer, but he’s unable to hold himself together for much longer when your arms wrap around him, squeezing at him as you cry lightly into his chest. 

“Hi lovie,” he whispers into your hair, lifting you from your place on the ground, his arms locked around your waist to support you. You don’t answer him immediately, opting instead to soak in the warmth from the embrace that you had been missing for the past six months. His lips against your head comfort you and soothe the thoughts that had been thinking the worst.

He squeezes you just before you pull away from his embrace, your arms still around his neck with his wrapped over your waist. “Hi,” you finally manage to whisper in response, sniffling as his one of his hands comes to cup the side of your face, his thumb catching the tears that fall from your eyes. 

Price gazes down at you in his arms, his heart swelling as you nuzzle into the palm of his hand, the warmth of his touch something that you had been craving for half a year. Your eyes flicker to meet his gaze again, and just like before, a teary smile works its way onto your face. 

“Thank God you’re home,” you mutter, lips trembling as you fight to hold back your sobs. Price smiles again, his own eyes tearing up at your words. He understands how hard it was to be away, for both himself and for you. He leans down, kissing your forehead tenderly. Price smiles to himself as he feels you relax at the affectionate gesture. 

“I’m not goin’ anywhere for a while, I promise you,” he says, tugging you back into his arms and squeezing at you as if you would disappear. You smile against his chest, relaxing in his arms, not caring as the rest of the world fades out, leaving only you and Price. 

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Word Count - 0.4k

As soon as your skin lightly grazes his, he crushes you to his chest, one hand holding the back of your head while the other holds your waist, gripping at you as if you would disappear should his grip falter. His lips tremble as he fights to hold back the rising sobs in his throat, eyes screwing shut as you squeeze just as tightly at him. 

“Thank you,” he mumbles into your hair, his voice wavering between words as you press your face into his chest. You know what he’s thanking you for, you know that he hadn’t expected you to come and find him, to seek him out. To say that he wasn’t used to being loved was an understatement, and with each passing day, you made sure that Kyle knew just how much he meant to you.

You had made it a point to sprint through the crowd in search for him, legs moving of their own accord as your eyes desperately searched the rows of soldiers being tapped out by their friends and family. Relief flooded your senses as you noticed Kyle, his arms folded behind his back and his face a mask of no emotion. But at the sight of you, you noticed the twinkle of tears in his eyes. 

“God, it’s so good to have you home.” Your words tug at his heartstrings, and he’s suddenly reminded of just how long it had been since he held you in his arms. Eight months. Eight months of video calls, of text messages, of only being able to communicate when it was safest for the both of you. Eight months made completely worth it by holding you as tightly as he wants to. 

You remain in his arms for however long he needs, however long it takes him to fully register that you’re standing in front of him and aren’t some figment of his imagination. When he does pull back from you, it’s to admire you, even if you have tears rolling down your cheeks. “It’s good to be home,” he agrees, smiling to both himself and you as you pull his face to yours, lips pressing firmly against his own. 

You kissing him reminds him that he’s loved, that his absence from home affects somebody, that there’s someone waiting for him to even return home. He doesn’t want you to pull away from him, even if that thought would result in the both of you passing out from lack of air. 

Kyle is just overjoyed that you’re here, that you came even when he didn’t call. “I love you,” he mumbles to you, so lovesick that it makes your chest warm. 

“I love you more.”

Alejandro Vargas

Word Count - 0.3k

In your arms, he immediately relaxes, his arms wrapping so gently around you so that he doesn’t accidentally hurt you. He kisses your temple, then leaning his cheek against the side of your head and swaying your bodies back and forth, holding back his own cries as you sniffle into his chest. 

“I’m here mi amor, it’s alright,” he coos into your ear, feeling your arms squeeze at him as he continues rocking his weight from one foot to the other, hoping that the rocking would comfort you. His chest tightens as he feels your tears staining his shirt, no doubt leaving behind a wet patch, but that doesn’t matter to him. 

You’re quiet as you stand in his arms, your nails biting into his back as relief floods your senses. The danger level of this particular mission was more than you were able to handle, but you were still able to find Alejandro amongst the crowd. You had sprinted to him, nearly tripping over your own two feet before you jumped at him, locking your arms around his neck and pressing your face into his shoulder. 

“Missed you,” you mumble into him, exhaling shakily as you shift in his embrace, remaining in his arms and gazing up at him through teary eyes. He smiles down at you, catching your tears with his thumb as he leans down to press a featherlight kiss against your cheek. 

“I missed you more,” he responds, chuckling breathily as you hold either side of his face, bringing him down into a kiss. He can taste your tears on his lips, but that’s the least of his concerns. What matters now is the familiar warmth that your kiss brings him, a telltale reminder that he had made it home, he had made it back to you. 

He pulls back from you, smiling as he notices your eyes still closed. His forehead leans affectionately against yours, the tip of your nose brushing with his as he momentarily forgets where he is. Even then, it doesn’t matter. He’s with you, that’s what matters. 

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

Word Count - 0.3k

He’s unable to hold back his tears as you cling to him, almost immediately crying into you as he lifts you off of the ground, curling you into him and pressing kisses against your hairline. He doesn’t care who sees him, he doesn’t care about the eyes that may wander. You were standing in front of him, and to him, that was the only thing that mattered in this moment. 

“I missed you so much. I love you,” he whispers into your hair, his voice barely able to be heard over the surrounding sounds. But you hear him, his voice as clear as day to you. You squeeze at him, your cheek smushed against his chest as he continues to hold you, worrying that if he let go, he would wake up back on base, miles away from you and the comfort of your embrace. 

You chuckle to yourself as he swiftly detaches himself from you, reaching out to take either side of your face into his hands, his eyes gazing into yours with a loving glint to them. You smile, tears rolling down your cheeks at the fact that you were finally reunited with him. “I love you too,” you declare, a squeak catching in your throat as Rudy quickly leans in to kiss you, his lips almost perfectly molding against yours. 

Your eyes flutter shut as the initial shock wears off, your arms lifting to secure themselves around his neck as he tugs you impossibly closer to him. You’re the one to pull away, with Rudy’s hands still attached to your face like velcro. You smile up at him, erupting into laughter again as he presses small kisses against any skin that he can reach; your eyelids, your cheeks, your nose, everywhere. 

You remain in his arms for God only knows how long, both of you simply basking in the others presence after having been away from it for so long. Even as the soldiers around you leave with their friends and families, you and Rudy stay rooted to where you stand. His thumbs stroke random patterns into your cheeks, his eyes admiring you. 

“Alright, come on, let’s go home, yeah?” you offer, smiling as Rudy’s hands squeeze your face. He nods in agreement, releasing you, but swiftly locking an arm around your waist. 

“Yeah.”

König

Word Count - 0.3k

He’s shaking as you pull him into your arms, cheek pressing against him as you let out a sigh of relief. König, as always, is so very gentle with you, lightly lifting you off of the ground and allowing you to wrap around him lika a koala. The feeling of your arms and legs around him brings with it a sense of comfort that he had been missing for seven months. 

“Liebling.” It’s all that he’s able to say in that moment, finding himself choked up at the thought that you were really here, really in his arms after all of that time spent apart. You nod, squeezing at him affectionately and burrowing yourself impossibly further into him. He can feel your tears against him, a telltale sign of the pure relief that you were feeling in that moment. 

“I’m so happy you’re home,” you whisper, smiling as you crane your neck just enough to make eye contact with König, heart swelling at the crinkle in the corners of his eyes. His mask prevented you from seeing the full extent of his smile, but you knew that it was there. 

“I missed you schatz. It was much too long,” König admits, smiling as you lean forward to kiss his covered forehead, then moving your hands to lightly lift the bottom of his sniper’s hood. He welcomes it, smiling widely as you lean forward to connect your lips with his, swallowing his breathy laugh and kissing him with such passion that he feels his knees weaken slightly. 

He almost doesn’t want you to pull away, but the need to breathe had become increasingly evident, and reluctantly, König allows you to pull back and catch your breath. You smile at him, moving his hood back to its original position before he places you down onto the ground. 

“I love you König,” you say softly, reaching out to lace your fingers into his own, squeezing them affectionately. His heart warms at your words, body bending to collect you into another embrace. He smiles at the feeling of you pressed against him, his arms wrapped firmly yet softly around you, careful not to injure you. 

“I love you more mein liebling,” he whispers into your ear, smiling as you squeeze at him. This was why he returned home, to see your bright smile, to feel your embrace, to be yours. 

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon desperately eating you out after a rough day.

***

The door slammed shut, making you jump and bump against the edge of the counter that you stood at before the sink, finishing up a few stray dishes that had been left from the night before. You turned to see Simon standing there in the doorway, stiff as a goddamn board with only his eyes clocking the room to find you and locking on to your form like a beast ready to pounce.

"Pants off...now," he demanded, his voice metered and firm as he removed the mask covering his features.

"Well, hello to you too," you chuckled as you crossed your arms over your chest, but he was not in a picking mood. "What's up?"

He took a calming breath; it wasn't your fault his mood had been soured today and he didn't need to upset the only person that could turn this all around. "It's been a fuckin' day, luv. Need something to take the edge off before I send someone to the goddamn morgue. So, again, pants off…please."

This wasn't the first time you'd encountered this specific Simon before; his short, gruff sentences were an obvious indication that he has had an absolutely rotten fucking day and was completely over it already. And because this wasn't your first time you knew what he wanted…

…what he needed to let all that stress go.

Slowly you undid the button of your pants, pulling down the zipper before slipping your hands inside the waistband and sliding your jeans down off your legs. Once you removed them from around your ankles you tossed them to the side and stood there in your panties and tank top, waiting for him to give you your next instruction. Like a flash he moved in and was now on top of you, enveloping you entirely with his hulking form as it fit against your curves until your backside was being indented by the edge of the countertop.

Hot, hungry lips scrambled to aggressively connect with your own, fighting for dominance as the back and forth of the dance continued with each passing second. He let himself go to become consumed by you, unable to find a pause to take a breath as he all but devoured you whole until there was nothing left in his mind but you.

Those large hands with their thick, rough digits pawed desperately at the warm, soft skin of your bare hips, grasping as much meat between them that they could hold. All those curves, all the smooth, voluptuous flesh ready to be caressed, it was enough to drive him insane; how fucking lucky he was to have it all at his disposal now to help cure his bad day?

God you were a fucking feast and he was starving.

The connection between your lips was broken sloppily and with haste, a sting of spittle connecting your lips sparkling in the light as he pulled away. Simon hurriedly grabbed the hem of your tank top and ripped it up and over your head, letting your breasts drop and jiggle with the reverb as they were set from their cage.

"Fuck," he groaned under his breath with a sharp inhale through his teeth as he latched those lips back on to your own. "That's a sight that could do me in."

On the move he leaned his tall head lower as those raw lips began to explore further down along the curve of your neck, the line of your shoulder, and finally coming to those beautiful breasts which he immediately sucked into his mouth. The suction was intense as he used the very tip of his tongue to circle those perky rosebuds until he felt them stiffen against the roof of his mouth and your body twitch from the tingly feeling it gave off that shot up your spine.

Whatever you were doing before this felt like a distant memory as his attention grew your arousal so that your body responded in kind to him just the way he wanted. He switched sides on your chest, not wanting the first breasts twin on the other side to get left out. Simon only moved on after your hips began to grind against the bulge growing at the front of his pants.

His lips continued down the line of your body as he knelt to the ground before you, ready to put everything into worshiping that sweet pussy he loved so goddamn much. Over your sternum and stomach all the way down to your pelvis his lips caressed until they reached a roadblock covering those last few inches to his destination. That was quickly dealt with as his fingers wrapped around the waistband of your panties to slide them down your thighs, letting his lips keep going all the way to the mound of your sex; only then did he pause.

"Spread," he demanded again as his hands tapped at your inner thighs, his message being short and sweet and to the point. "I'm fuckin' endin' this day on a high note. I'm not stopping' till I'm on the goddamn verge of death by suffocation, so don't ya even try to move, luv."

You widened your stance with the guidance of his hands until there was enough space to allow his face to fit between them. Hands back on your hips, holding them as handlebars so that he could incline his face against your cunt he dove in.

Your petals were so warm, so silky, and it felt good on his mouth as he kissed that other lovely set of lips a few times, sighing as he was finally able to relax in his favorite place.

"Here we go, baby," Simon breathed into you as he extended his tongue and drug it over the slit between your legs until he had split you open, rubbing the muscle through the small accumulation of your juices to coat his tongue.

Goddamn were you sweet tonight. "Mmmm mmmm," his deep, garbled hum vibrated deliciously on your clit as the taste of you filled Simon's mouth and tingled on his taste buds.

…And then he began to move the pad of his tongue…

Over and over his tongue engaged your core. "Fuck, Simon," his name fell from your lips as his tongue began to make you writhe against his face.

"Again," he said in that gruff growl as he pulled from your for only a second.

You knew exactly what he meant for you to do. "Simon," his name was beautifully moaned from you once more as he focused all his efforts on that small bead of nerve endings at the top innermost part of your cunt.

The sound of your soft, breathy voice calling out to him made the previously enraged Lieutenant fucking crack at the seams and any trace of that rage-inducing day was suddenly completely gone; replaced by a fire to make good on his promise to desperately lap at you for as long as it took until his skin was infused with your scent and he was fully satisfied.

He moved up even tighter against your core, locking on so that even as you bucked there was no chance he would fall off until he was good and fucking ready to let you go. Shit he was pushing you to the limit of what you could take, your body aching wildly as his strike hit precise and deliberate every time until you were right at the cusp of your pleasure. God, his pace was relentless.

Overwhelmed with the intense gathering of warmth in your belly, your toes began to curl together over top of the floor as you scrambled to keep your breathing steady through the growing euphoria. How were you supposed to force yourself to intake air when all your functioning had been redirected straight to that pleasure sensor in your brain?

That thought had little time to gain traction as that feeling of impending pleasure had reached its peak.

Suddenly you were spilling violently, crying out as you tried to move him from you, but Simon was in this till the end. He kept at it until you had ridden it out to completion and finally settled, your heavy panting becoming softer and more drawn out.

You thought that that was it; the finale had been reached and all was good right? You could not have been more wrong. A wet flash of a smirk crossed his lips as he stood back up before you.

Without even a verbal warning his hands were suddenly digging into your sides as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you out of the kitchen and into the bedroom where he sat you on the surface of the bed. Reaching with one of his hands over his shoulders he gripped the fabric of his shirt in his grasp and pulled until it came off over the top of his head, throwing the useless article to the floor before stalking towards the bed.

"On ya knees baby," he grunted as he hurriedly laid down on his back beside you further up towards the head of the bed. "Over my face. Now."

Simon pulled at your arm until you moved, his need to be smothered between your thighs causing him to rush. Grabbing on to the headboard for leverage you knelt over his head.

Your petals glistened with the sticky cum and saliva mixture he had just created as he ate his first course, but there was still plenty to get lost in and he was more than ready to dive back into it.

Greedy hands rubbed up and down the smooth skin of your thighs. "Sit," he commanded and you bent your legs until you were just above his nose, but that wasn't good enough; he didn't need you being gentle, he needed you to give him what he wanted - to let him drown in you.

"No hoverin', I said sit," he hissed as he quickly moved his hands to your hips and wrenched them down so that you had no choice but to lower yourself until your pussy was completely flush against his face like a chair.

His breath hitched not just from the instant lack of available oxygen, but because the feeling of being completely enveloped by your pussy was akin to being high; he was on cloud fucking nine just suffocating against you.

The headboard thumped against the wall from your arms shaking as full contact was made again along your core after just having come. The tears stung your eyes, your over-stimulated clit so sensitive it almost hurt. His grip on your hips didn't let up, keeping the pressure tight so that there was no chance of escape, even though you wriggled in search to ease up a little.

There was still some fight left in you; that simply wouldn't fucking do as it meant he hadn't finished the job and he was anything but thorough. Simon needed you completely spent and too exhausted to even move a goddamn inch.

"I-I can't…I can't," you pleaded with him as you squirmed over top of his stark features like anything you said would persuade him to give up.

You could hear his voice in your head, you knew what he'd say if he could talk at that moment. "Oh yes you can sweetheart. You're gonna fuckin' take it all for me."

I mean look at that big boy, he could eat and that meant all types of meals, you included most of all.

As if a nonverbal response to your mewling, his tongue picked up in speed, stroking wildly against your clit with reckless abandonment. Your fingernails were digging into the wood of the headboard, thighs vibrating against Simon's ears as each movement of that deadly appendage brought you closer and closer to your second harsh release.

"Bastard," you whined.

He gave your hips a hard squeeze. Call me what you like baby, he thought, you're still gonna fuckin' come as many times as I want.

So warm, so wet, so soft, gasping for air... He was in heaven.

Unconsciously your hips began rocking along with the thrusts of his tongue, riding him just as he worked and that familiar feeling in your stomach returned. Seconds passed…or was it minutes? Hours? Time seemed to pass differently when he was eating you out.

All of a sudden you stopped rocking, pressing your pussy as hard as you could against his face, and with a few more hard strokes you cried out as you came violently, slamming into the headboard as your thighs clamped down around Simon's ears.

"S-s-shit…" you whimpered as you ground out the last drop of your ecstasy until Simon tapped your thigh to be set free.

Legs shaking, chest heaving, eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed bright red, you fell down on the bed beside him, unable to move a muscle save for your head. Turning your face towards him you were met with a very happy and content man gazing back at you with those fiery auburn eyes, face absolutely drenched from eyebrows to chin in a thin layer of your cum.

He reached out to you, his palm cupping over the entirety of your cheek. "You did so fuckin' good for me sweetheart," he praised, thumb rubbing over the supple skin there. "So fuckin' good that I think ya deserve a break…but I don't think I'm finished quite yet."

"Oh?" you questioned back through heavy breaths, eyes wide. More?

He chuckled in that deep vibrato as he rolled over to kiss your forehead. "Well… ya see… it was a really fuckin' bad day."

You hadn't planned on dying today, but if Simon got his way he would be setting up your funeral later tonight, but there were worse ways to go…right?

Hii! I feel like I’ve been loving angst and smut all being put in one fanfic as of recently, so I thought about heartbreaker Johnny because we all know he’s not the most loyal man 🌚 so I was wondering if like it could be the sort of where the reader was basically taken by the slaughter family and instead of killing her they kept her as bate for more victims like she’s very attractive and they use her whenever they go out to hunt, (I hope that makes sense but I figured that would prob be the only reason they kept someone alive 😭) but ok so one day basically she and sissy are sitting on the couch watching Tv in their free time , and Johnny walks into the house with yet another girl, like the 3rd girl of the week, and like the reader rolls her eyes and sighs a little too loud out of jealousy and I guess Johnny notices, so later on he like teases her about it and she pretends to hate him when in reality he was one of the things she looked forward to when they first kept her alive, so they kind of like hate fuck? Or jealousy fuck idk, but she ends up riding him at some point,

(also I’m sorry this is so long, I had this whole long elaborate idea in my head 😭)

I finished 😈

Johnny Slaughter x reader

MINORS DNI this is fairly fucked up please spare yourselves

Contains: abuse, angst, blood, degradation, humiliation, knifeplay, mentions of self-harm, implied cannibalism, jealousy, fingering, hate-fucking, and breeding

(Sorry for double spacing, I still don't know how to format on mobile)

Eight months ago, Johnny Slaughter brought you home for dinner. 

Well, he brought you after a full night of fucking you out of your senses in a seedy hotel room. And it was thanks to your chemistry with him that—when he made clear that you were to be the family's next meal—you were able to talk your way out of it. 

"Johnny, you don't have to kill me," you pleaded.

"Well I can't let you go, doll," he said, looking down at you with a predatory gaze. You were in the gruesome basement with the scent of death flooding your nostrils, but nothing felt so visceral as the blade of his Bowie knife at your neck, one wrist flick from ending your life. 

"You don't have to. I can help you." 

He barked a laugh. "Yeah? How so?"

You'd swallowed hard, then placed your hands on his firm chest. He'd raised an eyebrow but didn't pull away. "I'll do what you did to me: lure people back to the house. I'll bring in five times my weight in the first month, I swear."

"You do have a certain," Johnny's eyes flicked down to your breasts, "charm. But how can I trust you?"

"Come with me. If you see me doing anything against you, you can claim to be my caretaker. Say I'm mentally unwell."

"How exactly are people gonna believe me if I say that?" He asked, his head cocked. 

You held out your arm somberly, self-harm scars littering your wrists. "It won't take much convincing, Johnny."

Rather than the usual looks you received when people noticed your scars, Johnny's face lit up. 

"You like the pain, huh?" He'd said in a low tone. 

"Proves I'm still alive, doesn't it?" You responded, a strange sort of calm flooding you at his reaction. You tried to lower your wrist, but Johnny caught it with his free hand. 

He removed the blade from your neck, then brought it to your wrist, making a quick, shallow cut. He then brought the blade to his wrist and made an identical cut. Finally, he brought his wrist to yours and pressed the cuts together, mingling your blood with his.

"Blood oath. If you break my trust, I'll know."

You nodded, adrenaline lighting up every inch of your body, especially the cut.

"Oh, and," his eyes narrowed, and he reached a gloved hand down, cupping you through your shorts, "this pussy is mine. If I hear you slept with another man, I'll kill you both myself."

Once again, you nodded, and watched entranced as he brought your wrist to his lips and licked it, humming contentedly at the back of his throat. 

"Let's see how long you can last, sugar."

—

Now, you and Sissy sat on the couch, watching the only TV channel available when Johnny kicked the front door open. He had a screaming young woman thrown over his shoulder, pounding his back with her fists.

Johnny locked eyes with you, wearing that same predatory smile he often had. Ever since you'd shown an aptitude for luring people back home for slaughter, you and Johnny had become quite competitive. It didn't take long for him to recognize that you had fully assimilated into the family, and he'd allowed you to hunt on your own.

This month, Johnny had been far more successful than you – three kills to your zero. His cockiness was becoming unbearable, and that smug look on his face stirred up a now-familiar ache in your gut.

You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms as you turned away from Johnny, sinking deeper into the couch. Sissy looked at you and shook her head as Johnny slammed the door to the basement behind him.

"How you feelin', girly?" Sissy asked, patting your forearm.

You shrugged. "I don't like it when he does better than I do at bringing people home."

Sissy stroked your arm as she leaned closer. "Hon, I don't think that's your problem." She smiled, revealing her tooth gap as she caught your eye. "You wishin' Johnny was the type to settle down, hm?"

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head. "No!" You responded a little too quickly. "I just... I wish he wouldn't sleep with them," you added in a low whisper.

"Well, don't you sleep with those guys you bring home sometimes?" Sissy asked with genuine curiosity.

"No, I..." The oath you made to Johnny flashed in your mind. "I don't."

Sissy giggled. "I'll get grandpa to bed and take Bubba out tonight. Sounds like you and Johnny need to talk."

–

You remained on the couch until the door to the basement clanged open. Johnny had been down there for a while, and by this point, your jealousy had you seeing red. You stood up from the couch and turned to face Johnny in the narrow hallway by the stairs. He wiped his blade off on his bloody shirt and locked eyes with you.

"We need to talk."

"Yeah, you haven't been pullin' nearly as many people as I have. Losin' your touch, sugar?" He taunted, leaning against the staircase and toying with his knife.

You put your hands on your hips. "Some months I got more than you did!"

"Yeah, like that month you brought in those slimy truckers. I couldn't even stomach their rancid, fatty meat." He spat in the corner by the door. "But it figures. You have lower standards than I do."

"'Cause I'm not sleeping with them!" You yelled, your fists trembling at your side.

Johnny's smile grew so wide it reminded you of a great white shark.

"Jealous?" He purred.

Your face heated, and you sputtered. "No, I fucking hate your guts, you piece of shit! Why would I be jealous?"

He pushed off the staircase and approached you slowly, a dangerous sway to his step.

"Needin' some attention? Has mean ole Johnny been denying you?" His tone was sickeningly sweet as he stopped in front of you, making your rage feel small and insignificant in his overwhelming presence.

It was true. When you were first brought home, Johnny had fucked you and only you daily for two straight months. He was the only thing you ever looked forward to in this hellhole, but in the last few months, Johnny had been using you less and less.

And you couldn't deny the anger that swirled in your gut whenever he brought a girl home. You knew how he was; you remembered how he'd hooked you that first night, and some of those girls he brought home had that same cock-drunk look in their eyes, some even willingly descending into the basement before realizing their fate.

It ate you up inside. Johnny had sworn you to him, but he took whoever he pleased, and the jealousy was making you more irritable than usual. You probably would have brought at least two men home this past month if it weren't for your overly-aggressive demeanor scaring them off.

But you couldn't help yourself. When you got horny, you were straightforward about it. Johnny had gotten you used to being with him, and without him to satisfy your urges, you were becoming more unhinged.

So now that Johnny was inches from you, admitting he was neglecting your needs with that cocky grin on his face, you couldn't believe the surge of desire that coursed through you. You hated how your body reacted, despised the urge to close the gap between your bodies, and grab him by his slicked-back hair, mashing your lips onto his. Damn it.

Johnny leaned even closer, whispering against your ear. "I can smell your cunt, you little slut."

Your face flushed deep red, and you pushed Johnny away as hard as you could. He took two staggered steps back, which gave you an odd sense of satisfaction.

That was until his predatory eyes narrowed, sending a shiver down your spine. He closed the distance between you two in one stride and crashed his lips against yours. You stumbled against the wall, cracking the drywall under the force of his kiss. Johnny couldn't care less.

His hands found your shorts, practically tearing them off your body to plunge his thick fingers into your needy core. You gasped and blushed harder as you heard the sound of your wetness squelching around his digits.

"You fucking brat," he growled low in his throat, biting your lip. You whimpered in response as he withdrew from you, bringing his fingers to your lips. You parted them, sucking yourself off him greedily, your eyelids fluttering shut.

When he removed his fingers, he harshly grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. "You've been a real bitch lately. Are you in heat or something?" He asked mockingly.

"Shut up, Johnny," you panted.

He ignored you entirely, turning your chin from side to side. "You need fucked, don't cha?" A slow grin formed on his handsome face. "Beg me for it."

Blood flooded to your core at his words, but you tore your chin from his grip. The words 'I'd rather die' welled up in your throat, but you realized Johnny might take you up on that offer, so instead, you glared at him.

"I'm waiting, darlin'," he drawled.

Your eyes unwillingly traversed his body, and you thought about how good that muscular form under his bloodied clothes felt against you. The thirst was truly getting to you, and he looked like a tall glass of red-tinted water.

Shame flooded you, and you squeezed your eyes shut. "Please, Johnny," you mumbled.

"What's that, doll? Please, what?" He asked, looking entirely too satisfied with himself.

You gave him a spiteful look, hoping that your hate might set him on fire. "Please, fuck me," you said through gritted teeth.

"Ahh, there's my little kitten. You'll need to do something for me first, though," he said.

"Oh, come on!" You spat. "What could you need from me that you don't already get from your sluts? I'm the one who isn't getting any!"

Johnny couldn't have looked more pleased. "Jealous AND possessive. How pathetic."

Your anger grew white-hot, and you slapped him. Hard.

The instant your hand made contact with his chiseled jaw, you knew you'd made a grave mistake. His eyes narrowed to slits, and he slammed you against the wall by the throat. You felt his blade against your collarbone, digging in, rivulets of blood rapidly staining your shirt.

"I'm sorry!" You squeaked out from between already-bruised lips, memories of the first time you'd begged for your life flooding your senses. He tightened his grip.

"Remember who you owe your life to, dollface," he snarled, pressing the knife deeper. "I like that bitchy mouth of yours, but if you ever try to hit me again, I'll end you. Understand?"

You nodded as tears ran down your cheeks, unable to muster more than the tiniest of breaths. Yet, even as your life balanced on a knife's edge, your desire dripped down your thighs.

Johnny loved a fight, but when he fought, he always had to win. In Johnny's mind, the only true victory was taking his opponent's life. His demand meant he didn't want to kill you, you realized. He was holding himself back because... some part of him wanted you around.

Johnny's eyes moved from yours to your cheeks where tears formed salty streams that raced down to your chin, slipping down your neck and pooling against his grip.

You always knew Johnny loved tears; be they from fear or ecstasy. As light began to prick at the corners of your vision, you wondered if you'd pushed him too far.

All at once, he released you, and you fell to your knees, choking on air.

"Suck my fucking cock," he commanded. He gave you next to no time to recover before his thick length was in your face, stiff and upward-curved. 

Your throat was already aching, and you could barely breathe, but you complied, taking his flushed tip into your warm mouth. 

His cock was salty and musky, and your envy flared. Johnny was never yours, was never going to be yours, but you had grown to crave him, and the fact you were likely tasting another woman on his cock made you livid. 

There was no woman in the world who wanted to please him more than you did, and you were going to show him that he needed you at least half as badly as you needed him. 

You poured all your hate, anger, and devotion to him into sucking his cock. Johnny was a narcissist through and through, and for some fucking reason, you reveled in it. The higher you put him, the higher he brought you with him, and the harder you fell when he spurned you. 

Tears continued to pour down your cheeks as you forced yourself to deep-throat all of him. He let out a delicious groan. "Fuck yeah baby, take it!"

You gagged and sputtered, saliva gushing from your lips when he grabbed the sides of your head and pulled you as far as you possibly could go. He held you there, choking on spit and pre-cum, until you couldn't take it anymore and pushed off his muscular thighs, stumbling backward onto your ass.

Johnny took this as an open invitation. He knelt down in front of you and grabbed your knees, pushing them apart and slotting himself between them. 

"You need this cock, don't you?" He said, using one hand to tease your clit with the slick head. 

"I need it," you respond, your voice raspy.

Johnny grinned wickedly before he plunged into you, making your back arch off the floor and your legs tremble. 

"Knew you were too proud to ask me on your own," he said as he gripped your hair and thrust so deeply into you that you saw stars, "so I wanted to see how long you could hold out. After all, it ain't like I wasn't getting any."

Jealousy bubbled up yet again from your core, and turned those stars in your eyes green. You needed him to know those sluts had nothing on you. They weren't form-fitted to his cock, they weren't so rabidly in… 

Your mind drew a blank. In love?

No! You hate Johnny. He's your captor.  Your judge, jury, and executioner. 

You love him?

You really were pathetic. Tears bloomed in your eyes again, and as Johnny sunk his teeth into your already-bleeding collarbone, you sobbed out loud.

He ground his hips against yours, his cock completely filling you. "There's my girl," he rumbled against your bloody skin. You practically melted. His girl. His. But he wasn't yours. Even though the two of you were clearly sexually compatible, and you couldn't do much more in his personal life for him than you already were, he still remained out of reach.

Then, it hit you. 

"Cum inside me, Johnny," you begged.

His harsh thrusts slowed. "What?" He pulled back and looked down at your tear-swollen eyes gazing back up at him so desperately. "You're joking."

You shook your head.

"Then you're a fucking idiot," he muttered, returning his attention to your neck and rocking his hips so that you felt him at every angle. 

"No, I'm not!" You protested, and you felt his smirk against your neck before he gripped your hips and pulled you closer. 

"You are, but I'll humor you. Why?" 

He wasn't moving, he was just holding you impossibly close, planting small, bruising bites up and down your neck. You felt every inch of him viscerally, and lust clouded your mind as you struggled to articulate your thoughts. 

"I- I want-" you moaned, writhing in his grasp. 

"Speak up, sugar," he chided, digging his fingernails into your hips.

Fuck. Your vision was spinning, and you let your head fall back and hit the hardwood floor. Johnny didn't allow you to rest long; he took one powerful hand and gripped the back of your hair, pulling you to face him. 

"I already know, so why don't ya just admit it?" He whispered, his lips inches from yours. 

Your eyelids fluttered shut, and you squeezed your thighs around his hips. "I want your baby, alright?" You admitted, humiliation mixing ice with the fire in your core. 

"Honey, there've been more women than you who've wanted that. What makes you think you're so special?"

Shame and desire in equal measure painted your cheeks, but you finally knew what to say. 

"I'm the only one you kept." 

He hummed against your pulse point. "You already kinda act like a mama; cleaning the house and makin' my favorites for dinner." Johnny's lips, which had traced a path along your neck, paused for a moment. He lifted his head slightly, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "But I thought you hated me."

"Hate you so much it reached the end and flipped to the other side, I guess," you conceded.

Johnny rewarded you by slowly resuming his thrusts, giving you the cock you craved so primally. "I hate you too, baby. I hate how every damn thing you do drives me crazy, how you make me lose control then force me to keep you safe from me." 

He leaned close, fire burning in his gaze. "I hate that I can't kill you 'cause I can't imagine my life without you in it." 

In that moment, as your lips met again, it was a collision of contradictions—the fierce passion that had grown in the midst of hate and chaos.

Johnny was on a mission now, and you felt it in every fiber of your being. He sat up on his knees and pulled you into his lap without breaking the kiss, pistoning his cock so deeply you felt the head bruising your cervix. 

But you didn't care, you reveled in the pain. Johnny was claiming you, finally. All those women, and none had him like this—breeding them like the bitch in heat that you were. You moaned so loud Johnny broke the kiss with a cruel laugh. 

"You hopeless little slut," he chided as he moved one hand to your back and bent toward your chest. He licked at the still fresh blood before reaching your nipple, rolling it between his teeth and sending shockwaves through you. 

You gripped his shoulders and rode him harder. A low groan escaped his lips, and you felt his length somehow become even more hard before a warmth spread through your core as his cum shot deep inside you. The sensation was too much to bear and you came as well, holding onto him for dear life as you rode out your orgasms together. 

When he was done, he laid you back down on the floor and stood, leaning against the wall and gazing down at you, the girl he'd chosen to claim entirely. 

You laid spread-eagle on the floor, your chest caked in blood, wanting to meet his eyes but unable to move as his precious cum seeped from your abused pussy. 

"Get used to this," Johnny said, as he grabbed a cigarette from his pants pocket and lit up, "you want my baby, you're gonna get it."

girls night‼️