Warning: This work contains graphic depictions of non-consensual sexual activity (rape/non-con, forced oral, restraints, humiliation, spit play, physical punishment, violence, degradation, captivity, and abusive power dynamics). Remember, non of this is real.
A/N: It’s a quick draft I had for a while but it’s here now😛
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"What did I say about messin' with the locks, darlin'?"
Trying to pick the door probably wasn't the best decision you'd made during your time trapped in that god forsaken room.
Johnny's disappointment was obvious-hand on hip, knife in hand, head dipped low as he stared down at the abandoned tool on the floor. His stance was calm, but it was the kind of calm that made your stomach twist.
Your cover was blown.
And you were going to pay for it.
"Where'd you even get the tools to try this, sugar?" He crouched down slowly, picking up the broken scrap of metal, eyes scanning the room with sharp precision. And then... he saw it. That narrow gap between the dresser and the wall.
"Mmh." The hum rolled from his chest, thick with satisfaction. "There."
You watched him stalk toward it, heart pounding.
Panic crawled up your spine like ice water. Instinct had you scrambling onto the bed, desperate to put distance between you.
You were really in for it now.
"I-I'm sorry, Johnny," you stuttered out, voice cracking. "I won't do it again, I promise-"
"You sneaky lil' bitch..."
He yanked the drawer away, exposing your hideaway-- scraps, tools, even a makeshift blade.
Your blood ran cold.
Johnny was already peeling off his yellow work gloves, slow and deliberate, like he was unwrapping a thoughtful gift. His eyes dragged over your body, zeroing in on the thin slip dress clinging to your skin— his dress. You'd been wearing it since yesterday, when he tossed it at you and muttered that it "might look sweet on ya."
Now, the look in his eyes that once said sweet was now the last thing on his mind.
"J-Johnny, I didn't mean it, I-"
"You know what happens when you lie to me.” His eyes seem dilated as he reached for you.
You curled your legs up, clutching the blanket like it could protect you. "Please," you whispered.
He was already at the edge of the bed.
Then he was on you.
You couldn't even think before he'd moved you until you were stretched over his lap —his thick thigh pressed against your stomach, your arms twisted behind your back, arms cinched tight with his belt as he wrapped it around your forearms.
He handled you like a ragdoll-adjusting, positioning, spreading your legs until your ass was right where he wanted it. The slip had ridden up to your hips.
You tried not to move. Tried not to breathe.
He hummed above you, low and almost pleased.
"You got any idea how pissed I am right now?"
His hand slid across your bare thigh, fingers splaying wide as they dragged upward-gripping you firmly, fingers digging in like he was molding your body to his hands. One hand gripped your hip, the other trailing slowly, possessively over the curve of your ass. He squeezed —hard. Not playful. Not gentle. Just a reminder of his strength.
Then you felt him shift behind you-his chest pressing against your back as his hand reached up, fingers tangling harshly in your hair.
He yanked your head back until you gasped.
"Do you think yur’ clever?" he hissed into your ear “Hidin' blades in my goddamn dresser? Creepin' around like I don't hear every little noise you make?"
His grip tightened in your hair until your scalp burned. His other hand cupped you between your legs rough and possessive.
You whimpered.
"That's what I thought," he growled. "You're not smart. You're just stupid and scared." He held you like that— flailing in humiliation, lower body exposed and trembling in his grip
"Well, don’t be scared, baby… This family doesn’t do bein’ scared.”
Then came the slap.
CRACK.
You flinched hard, the sting sending a wave of pain from your bottom. It didn’t seem to faze him as he gripped the back of your hair with the force of someone yanking a dogs chain.
"That's one," he said, voice flat and low. "For lyin' to me."
CRACK.
"Two— for sneakin' around like a brat."
Your breath hitched, your eyes clutching together.
CRACK.
"Three— for bein' dumb enough to get caught."
You jerked in his lap, but he didn't let go. He was enjoying this.
"You wanna…” He trailed off, letting out a sigh as he rubbed the red skin under his hand, “…explain why the fuck you thought I wouldn't notice a drawer full'a dirty lockpicks right under my nose?"
"I-I just—"
"You just, huh?" His voice dripped with venom. "You just thought l'd be too soft on you to check? Or too damn stupid to put it together?"
"No! I-I wasn't gonna leave, I swear—"
He yanked your head back again, forcing your face towards his direction. You see him in your peripheral view smirking.”
"You lyin' again?"
"N-no.”
His grip didn't loosen.
"Then why the fuck ain't you speakin' when I ask a question the first time?"
You whimpered, breath hitching, body trembling against him.
"I just-I didn't know what to do. I panicked…”
"You panicked?" he repeated mockingly, dragging his hand over your thigh again, slow and cruel. "You panicked, so you made a fuckin' escape plan?“
"No," you whispered. "I wasn't going leave. I couldn’t even get that far and we both know it.” You try convincing him for even a little mercy.
"Don't matter," he cut in coldly. "You thought about it. And that's good enough for me.”
Fuck.
His grip loosened slightly, enough to let your head drop. You sagged forward against his thigh, humiliated and silent.
He let out a slow breath.
Then— he shoved you off.
You hit the floor hard, knees scraping the wood. Your body slumped where it landed, arms still bound behind your back, your dress rucked up around your hips.
Johnny stood, towering over you. He looked down for a moment, that lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Y'know... you've got a mouth that's always gettin' you in trouble," he muttered, slowly unbuckling his belt again and tugging it free.
"Maybe it's time you put it to better use.”
You didn't resist when he grabbed your hair again and yanked your face toward his crotch. He rubbed your face against his jeans as he unbuttoned his pants and opened his zipper himself with one hand, already hard, already pulsing.
“Well?”
He shoved the head of his cock against your lips and you opened automatically, He yanked your hair, forcing your face back to his tip. You opened your mouth automatically, like your body knew better than your brain. The head of him pressed against your lips, hot and heavy.
“C’mon. Take it all,” he muttered, low and sharp, thumb dragging over your jaw like he owned it. You hesitated, gagging slightly at the sudden weight.
He didn’t give you a chance to pull away. One hand gripped your hair tighter, tilting your head. The other hand fisted your shoulder, holding you steady. He pushed, inch by inch, until you were forced deeper than you expected.
A strangled whimper escaped you, and he grunted, like he was enjoying it. “That’s it, baby. Good. You like that, don’t ya?”
You couldn’t answer—your mouth full, your body trembling. His pulse was hard against your lips as your eyes slightly rolled back from damn near oxygen deprivation. Every shallow breath you took was immediately snatched away from you. You gasped scraped against him, and he pressed just a little harder, until gag reflex hit again.
He pulled out with a low groan, watching you cough as drool hung from your chin. “You’re real quiet for someone who’s always so mouthy,” he teased, thumb brushing your lips. Slightly pulling you back in— your mouth was full again.
You gagged, eyes watering, body jerking in protest—but he held you. No mercy, just pressure.
He dragged you forward as much as he could until your nose pressed to his skin again, holding you there, watching your eyes water. Then he pulled you off with a wet gasp and grabbed your chin, forcing your mouth open wide.
“Good. See? You’re learning,” he murmured, dragging your head along his cock, forcing you to move with him.
You felt your stomach clench, your breath hitching uncontrollably, and he hummed above you, pleased by your compliance and struggle.
“Look at you,” he said, voice low and rough. “So obedient… so scared… and still taking it. That’s my girl.”
When he finally pulled out, shoving you away slightly laughing to himself, watching your shivering body as his cock twitched from missing contact. “That’s it… for now.”
Strings of spit and slick clung between your lips and him. You barely had time to breathe before he forced your mouth open wider with a rough grip on your jaw.
“Open up,” he ordered, his voice like gravel.
You shook your head weakly, but his fingers dug harder into your cheeks until your lips parted. His shadow loomed above you, and then—
He spit.
Hot and thick, it hit your tongue and slid down your throat before you could swallow on your own. The taste burned, the humiliation sharper than the sting of his belt. He grabbed your neck and pulled you foward, “Swallow it,” he growled. His thumb pressed against your throat, waiting.
You did. You couldn’t not. He felt the movement under his hand, his smirk spreading wider.
“My pretty lil’ liar,” he rasped. “That’s what I like. Obedient when it counts.”
He tucked himself and zipped up his pants slowly, like it was a ritual. Like sealing a deal. Then he crouched by the dresser again, dragging out every hidden scrap. One by one. Pieces of bent metal, sharpened utensils, the stolen screwdriver head-you watched in silence as your whole plan unraveled in front of you.
He took them all.
And when he stood, he looked down at you like a man who had won. "Huh," he muttered, slipping a jagged pin into his pocket. "Didn't even have to fuck you to shut you up.”
You didn't cry. Didn't plead. You just sat there.
And smiled.
It was a broken smile. Crooked. Wrong.
And then— you laughed.
A quiet, breathless sound.
Johnny froze, halfway to the door.
He looked back at you. “Somethin' funny?"
Your voice was rough, hoarse, but steady.
"You're scared of me."
He blinked once. Then twice.
Your smile widened.
"That's why you won't let me go," you murmured, “You know if I ever get free... you're fucked."
Johnny stared at you for a moment. His jaw ticked.
Then he scoffed and stepped to the door.
"Yeah?" he said, unlocking it. "Heh, too bad you'll never find out if that's the damn truth..."
Click.
The lock slid into place behind him.
And you were left alone on the floor, your body aching, your pride shattered, your mouth still full of him, every tool taken.
Not with the kind of devotion that could drown a person, that could swallow them whole and leave nothing but an echo of who they used to be.
But Johnny had a way of making you forget things.
How to be cautious. How to hold yourself at a distance. How to see the cracks beneath something beautiful before it was too late.
You met him in the middle of summer, heat thick in the air, the sun beating down on a dusty Texas backroad. You were walking down the long dry road to try and find a place to help fix your broken down car. And then he pulled up.
Leaning out the driver’s side window, that sharp grin stretched across his face, the sun catching the slick shine of his brushed back black hair. “You look lost, sweetheart.”
His voice was slow, syrupy, each word dragged out in a way that made you listen. You should’ve been wary, the scar on his face should’ve said it all— but back then it was charming and different.
“I’m Johnny. I saw a car ten minutes out from here, was that yours, darlin’?“ You nod your head explaining your situation, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
The way he was looking at you felt like he’d already made up his mind—like you were something he wanted to keep— keep you safe. So you got in the truck and since then you never really left.
The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the dry grass of Texas. Johnny knelt beside your car, its hood propped open like a gaping mouth. He was deep in concentration, grease-streaked hands working methodically over the engine, his brow furrowed in determination. “Just a little more adjustin’ here, and she’ll be purrin’ like a kitten.”
You watched, captivated by the way he moved—confident, almost instinctual, as if he was born to be under the hood of a car. His shirt clung to his muscular frame, his back flexing everytime he tightened a bolt, his gaze flickered to you, and for a moment, you felt his intensity. “You’re always welcome to lend a hand, y’know. It’s good to have company,” he said, the invitation layered with a hint of teasing that made you shiver and look away with a red faceS
“M-Maybe I’ll just get in the way, and plus, you do this for a living?” you asked, trying to keep the mood light, but the way he locked eyes with you sent an unfamiliar chill down your spine. “Yes, I do. An’ I could use the extra hands please.”
And soon, with a final twist of the wrench, he stood up, wiping his hands on a rag and leaving streaks of black against the fabric. “There! All set. Let’s see how she runs,” he declared, his excitement contagious, as if a fixed car got him excited. As he turned the key and the engine roared to life, a fleeting thought crossed your mind—what else was hidden beneath the surface of this charming, mysterious man?
You soon exchanged numbers, a million thank yous, a few flirty glances and that set up the rest of your life.
…
Johnny wasn’t an easy man to love but fuck did he know how to make you want him.
The way he carried himself—deliberate, confident, like he was always five steps ahead of everyone else—made him impossible to ignore. He had this charm, the kind that made you lean in closer when he spoke, the kind that made you forget the way his eyes lingered too long on people when he thought no one was watching.
And with you? He was different.
He was soft.
He’d sneak up behind you, hands sliding slow over your waist, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, “Damn, you smell good.” He’d press his forehead against yours when he was tired, exhaling slow, like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. He’d call you things no one ever had before—sweetheart, baby, mine—like the words belonged to you alone.
So when the small details were starting to show you were observant.
Johnny had a knack for deflecting questions about his past, often dodging your questions. Whenever you pressed him about where he grew up or what he had done before you met, he would flash that charming grin and casually change the subject, as if it was no big deal. One moment, he mentioned his mother but there were two?
Your questions were left with more.
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One afternoon, as you sat together on the couch, the flickering light from the television illuminated the room in a soft glow. Curiosity nagged at you, and you found yourself wanting to know more about Johnny’s past. You had always sensed there was more to him than the charming persona he presented. With a gentle nudge, you asked, “What was your childhood like? Did you have a good relationship with your family?”
For a brief moment, silence hung in the air. His expression darkened, and the playful glint in his eyes was replaced by a cold stare. “Why do ya wan’ ta’ know about that so much?” he snapped, his southern accent drawling harsher and sharper, making you flinch. You hadn’t meant to touch a nerve; it was just a question, after all.
Johnny leaned forward, the tension radiating from his face. “Chu’ think ya’ can just dig into my past like it’s some kind a game? It’s not pretty, okay? Just drop it.” His tone was laced with aggression, the way he clenched his jaw and fists showing his frustration.
You could feel the heat of his anger washing over you, a wave of intimidation that made your stomach twist. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” you said softly, trying to diffuse the situation.
“Upset me?” he echoed, his voice rising. “You have no idea what it’s like ta’ be me! You think you’re entitled to know every lil’ thing? I’m not some open book for ya’ to read.”
As he spoke, you noticed the way his body was coiled with tension, his energy shifting from defensive to aggressive in a heartbeat. It was a stark reminder of the very things you’d been trying to ignore—the moments when his charming demeanor could so easily turn into something completely different.
Realizing you had ventured too far into territory he wasn’t ready to share, you held up your hands in a gesture of peace, feeling the urge to retreat from the sudden confrontation. “I just wanted to understand you better,” you said softly, wishing to calm the storm that had erupted between you.
But Johnny remained unyielding, the anger in his eyes dimming slightly, yet still lingering like a dark cloud overhead. “Well, maybe some things are better left in the past. You should respect that.” His voice softened, but the warning in it was unmistakable. The tension lingered, leaving you wondering just how deep his scars ran and how much of his past he was truly willing to share—or hide. To relive the tension in the air you look back at the TV, seeing missing people on the news, and you let you a sigh, “All these missing people are making me feel sick…” He let out a chuckle grabbing his beer on the near by coffee table, “People die everyday, babe. That’s just how it goes.”
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The inconsistencies in his timelines nagged at you, but you had wrapped it up to the conclusion that he didn’t like his childhood…
Hell, maybe that’s why he’s always had a knife on him, its cold metal glinting ominously whenever he moved in the light. At first, you thought it was just a quirky habit, something that made him seem rugged and stoic.
“What, are you expecting someone to attack us in our own kitchen in the middle of the day?” You asked. He would often joke about it, saying, “Chu’ never know when trouble might come knockin’.” But as time went on, the constant presence of the knife began to unsettle you. It was tucked into his belt when he went out, resting on the kitchen counter when he cooked, and even slid under his pillow at night sometimes. The way he handled it sent shivers down your spine.
But the biggest problem you had with Johnny is that he would disappear some nights, returning hours later, smelling faintly of something metallic… oil?
Once, you saw dirt caked under his nails, trailing up his forearms. You asked him where he’d been. “Just out,” he said, flashing that lazy grin. “Got into a little trouble at work, is all.” The smell of perfume filled the air but an scent of unfamiliar cologne joined the air too that was definitely not his— could be all the people he was around at his job.
So you let it go.
One night, you woke up to find him sitting at the edge of the bed, staring at you. The moonlight caught the sharp angles of his face, his jaw tight, his hands flexing against his knees. You blinked, your voice thick with sleep. “Johnny?” His lips twitched into a smirk, but something in his eyes was unreadable.
“Just watchin’ ya dream, baby,” he murmured, reaching out to brush his fingers along your cheek. A chill skated down your spine. But you smiled anyway. Regardless of what you felt, you knew he meant good… but deep down, you already knew something wasn’t right.
The next night you learned the truth, the air is thick with the scent of rain, heavy and humid, clinging to your skin as you lie awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. The house is silent except for the occasional groan of wood settling, the distant sound of wind pressing against the windows. Johnny was gone and it was late— a little too late.
But that, in itself, isn’t unusual. It doesn’t shock you when he decides to stay at the mechanic shop in town late at night trying to fix the dozens of vehicles in line to get fixed. But tonight, something feels different. Maybe it’s the way the wood creaked through the cracks in the house, or maybe it’s the strange heaviness in your chest, a weight that has been pressing against you for months now, slowly growing stronger, harder to ignore.
Was he cheating? No, he couldn’t be…
You sit up, rubbing your arms as if to shake off the unease curling around your spine, but the feeling doesn’t go away.
You don’t want to be the kind of person who snoops, don’t want to be the kind of person who questions Johnny when he’s never given you a reason to doubt him—not really—but the thought plants itself in your mind, firm and unrelenting. You hesitate for only a moment before slipping out of bed, stepping carefully across the creaky wooden floorboards.
Maybe getting a little bit of air outside would help.
The house is dark as you make your way to the back door, barely illuminated by the dim glow of the moon filtering through the windows. The smell of the soup you had saved for Johnny you made for dinner lingering in the kitchen drifts past you, making you sigh. Outside, the yard stretches out into endless black, the distant tree line swaying in the wind, casting long, skeletal shadows across the damp grass.
And that’s when you see it—Johnny’s truck, parked farther away than usual, close to the old shed at the edge of y’all’s property, the driver’s side door hanging slightly open.
Johnny never parks his truck like that. Never far away and open…
Your heartbeat picks up as you step onto the porch, the cold texan air nipped at your face. The wooden planks cold beneath your bare feet. You hesitate, half tempted to turn back, to crawl under the blankets and pretend you never got up in the first place. But your feet keep moving down the steps, down the path of your garden, slow and hesitant, carrying you across the yard and across the property. The damp grass soaking through the thin fabric your pajamas was unpleasant but you weren’t stopping over some wet cloth.
Walking down the long path of the dirt road, all the way to the edge of the property to the old shed, you couldn’t help but tell yourself that maybe this was a bad idea. You could still go back inside to the warm soup you had prepared, rid yourself of cold needles poking your bare feet and cuddle with your blankets but… when you did reach the truck, you see it immediately—a large, worn duffel bag slung across the passenger seat, the zipper barely closed, something dark spilling out over the edge.
Your breath catches, fingers twitching at your sides as you stare at it, mind racing with possibilities you don’t want to entertain.
But you have to look.
With trembling hands, you reach out and pull the zipper down, just enough to push aside the fabric.
The first thing you see is a small delicate locket, could it be a gift he was going to give you? It was the kind a woman would wear, its chain snapped as if it had been ripped from someone’s neck. Opening up the locket, you don’t see you… you see a random women, blonde and happy.
Was he actually cheating?
Turning the locket around, the surface is smeared with something dark, something rust-colored, something that your mind refuses to name. You swallow hard, your pulse hammering against your ribs, and dig a little deeper.
“No…” You whispered.
A scarf, torn at the edges. A sliver bracelet, more fit for a man, the kind that wouldn’t fit around your wrist but definitely not Johnnys style.
IDs. A small, zippered pouch filled with driver’s licenses, seven in total. Different names. Different faces. Four of them, men. Three of them, women. You sucked in a sharp breath, your chest tightening, your pulse a frantic drum against your ribs.
And then something slipped from inside the pouch—a polaroid.
The breath left your lungs.
It was a man and woman tied up, their faces tear stained and unmoving. Their eyes stared into oblivion, their souls gave up. If that wasn’t worse, a visible wound was peaking at the camera spilling out of the man’s side.
Your hands begin to shake.
The realization comes slow, creeping in at the edges of your mind, twisting into something suffocating. You stare down at the collection of trinkets, at the evidence of people, at the undeniable proof of something that cannot be explained away.
Johnny wasn’t cheating.
He was hurting people.
Your stomach lurches violently as you try and properly shove everything back into the bag as quick as possible, and you stumble back from the truck, hands trembling, breath coming too fast, too shallow. You try to tell yourself there’s another explanation, that this isn’t what it looks like, that there’s some kind of reasonable, logical reason for why Johnny would have these things—but you already know there isn’t.
Because deep down, you always knew something was wrong.
And now you have proof.
Before you can think about what to do next, the air shifts behind you, and you feel it before you hear it—the presence of someone watching.
Footsteps crunch against the wet grass, slow and deliberate, and every muscle in your body locks up as a shadow stretches over you, long and familiar, swallowing you whole.
You don’t want to turn around, don’t want to confirm what you already know, but your body moves on instinct, reacting before your mind can catch up. You step towards the truck again, grabbing the near by beer bottles on scattered on the truck floor. One, two, three bottles. You turn and there he is.
Oh my god… was he watching the whole time?
Johnny stands a few feet away, his boots caked with mud, his damp shirt clinging to his skin, darkened in places you don’t want to look too closely at. His dark brown hair is messy, strands sticking to his forehead, but his expression is what sends a chill down your spine. He isn’t angry. He isn’t shocked. If anything, he looks amused.
Like he was waiting for this moment.
Like he knew you’d find out eventually.
His head tilts slightly, lips curling into a slow, easy smirk as he watches you, his sharp eyes flicking from your face to the open duffel bag, then back to you. His hands are relaxed at his sides, fingers flexing slightly, and something about the movement makes your stomach twist in knots.
You don’t realize you’re shaking until he takes a slow step forward, and your body reacts on instinct, feet stumbling backward, hands curling into fists around one of the bottle.
Johnny’s smirk widens slightly as he closes the distance between you, his voice low, smooth, the drawl as thick as honey.
“Somethin’ wrong, sweetheart?”
The words are casual, almost teasing, as if this is just another late-night conversation, as if he doesn’t already know exactly what you saw.
You try to speak, but your throat is too tight, your mind racing through a thousand different responses, a thousand different ways to react, but none of them feel right.
You look at the beer bottles in your hand.
Because what the hell are you supposed to say to the man you love when you realize he’s a monster?
Johnny watches you for a long moment, and then he does something that makes your blood run cold— He laughs. When he looks at you again, there’s something almost fond in his expression, something that makes your stomach twist into an even tighter knot.
“You really shouldn’t be out here this late,” he murmurs, stepping closer, his voice taking on that familiar, lazy warmth, the kind that usually makes you melt. “It’s too cold out here, you’re shakin’.” His hand sits on his hip, on his knife… with his head tilting in curiosity.
You don’t move. Can’t move. Because you can’t stop yourself from thinking of every possibly— if you run, he might chase you. If you fight, he’ll win. And if you scream, no one will hear you. So you do the only thing you can.
You raise your bottle handling wrist in the air and force yourself to breathe. You force your body to relax, even as your heart slams against your ribs, even as every instinct tells you to run. You lift your chin, swallowing hard, meeting Johnny’s gaze with as much steadiness as you can manage.
You smile, “No Johnny, I was looking for you and figured I’d help clean your truck.”
Barely there, barely audible, but just enough to make his smirk soften, just enough to make his hazel gleam with something like approval.
Just enough to keep yourself innocent in his eyes.
The drive back down the gravel weaving path you two had spent weeks making to the house is quiet. Johnny hums softly under his breath, one hand resting lazily on the steering wheel, the other draped over his knee, fingers tapping against the denim of his jeans. His posture is relaxed, completely at ease, like nothing is wrong. Like you didn’t just find proof of something horrible.
The truck bumps along the uneven dirt road, the tires crunching against gravel, but the only sound in the truck is the low crackle of the radio, playing some country song you can’t focus on. Your hands are clenched together in your lap, knuckles white, nails digging into your skin, trying to anchor yourself to something like there wasn’t a spiral of thoughts screaming inside your head. It didn’t help much when the duffel bag is touching your feet on the truck floor.
You should say something. You should confront him but you don’t. You can’t bring yourself to it. What would that change?
You glance at Johnny from the corner of your eye, at the way the dim glow of the dashboard casts shadows across his sharp features. His dark brown hair falls messily over his forehead, his lips still curled at the edges in that easy, knowing smirk, like he’s waiting for you to break the silence first. Like he’s curious about what you’ll do next.
Grease stains decorated his worn out jeans— could it really be grease? The scar on his face, he might be lying to you about how he got that, too. Your stomach twists painfully thinking about it, you lean away for a moment trying not to lose yourself in your head.
Johnny isn’t stupid, no matter how much he plays up the carefree charm. He’s watching you, even if he doesn’t make it obvious, gauging your reaction, measuring every little shift in your expression, every nervous flicker of your fingers.
And you don’t know what he’ll do if you give him the wrong reaction. So you keep your mouth shut because you don’t know what happens if you don’t.
The truck goes around to the front of the house, rolls to a stop, and for a long moment… neither of you move.
You feel his gaze on you, sharp and heavy, waiting for something. Instead, you swallow hard, forcing your voice, “Well? Let’s get inside.” You open the door as swiftly and calmly as you could and step out with a slight pep in your fake step. You lightly hum as you listened to his turn off the truck and do the same.
You didn’t sleep that night.
Johnny lays beside you, one arm slung over your waist, his body radiating warmth. His breathing was slow, steady—completely at ease. Like he hadn’t maybe spent this night taking someone’s life. Like he hadn’t kissed and held your face with blood still under his nails.
Your mind messed with itself, rethinking every moment you two shared, every laugh, every touch. Could someone like him really be capable of this?
Yes.
But then—
He loves you.
Then the next few weeks were torturous.
You played your part well. Smiling when Johnny expected it, keeping your voice light, pretending that everything was the same. But it wasn’t.
How could it be?
Every touch made your skin crawl. Every whisper of sweetheart or mine felt like a chain tightening around your throat now. You knew too much. But the worst part wasn’t just knowing— it was not knowing what to do.
For two years, Johnny had been everything to you. He made you laugh with his charming antics. You remembered the way he used to tuck you into his side after a long day, ignoring the label of him being ‘just a friend’ hiding in his farm house back at his home. His warmth seeping into your skin, his hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm. You remembered his voice, that teasing, cocky lilt that could make your heart race in a way you once found exciting.
Could someone like Johnny really love? Had it all been a lie? The thought made you sick. But then there were moments—small ones—that made you wonder.
“You’ve been different lately,” he murmured, his voice slow and measured.
Your pulse stuttered. “What do you mean?” You put down the knife, swiping the cut strawberries into a bowl and turn around… only to see he’s already standing behind you.
He hummed, dragging his fingertips to your wrist. His grip tightened just slightly. “Quieter. Distracted.” His hazel eyes searched yours, narrowing as his hand gripped your wrist in a tight squeeze. “Is there somethin’ you’re not tellin’ me?”
Your breath caught.
Did he know?
You forced a laugh, leaning up to kiss him, swallowing your fear between your lips.
“No,” you whispered and peck his lips, but his body didn’t budge. His hand let go of your wrist as you turned around hoping he’d give you any sign that he’s let it go. His head rests on your shoulder and wrapped his arms around your waist, “M’kay.” Is all he said before kissing the back of your head and leaving the room. For now, he seemed to believe you.
But things did change after that.
Johnny watched you more closely. His touches lingered too long, his words held unspoken weight. One evening, he brushed your hair back, tilting your chin up. His grip was just a little too firm, his fingers warm against your skin. “You ain’t ever leavin’ right, darlin’?” He asked under his breath.
And you knew, then, that you could never leave. Johnny wasn’t just dangerous, he was watching too.
You stood at the sink that night, gripping the edges so tightly my knuckles turned white. Just a few moments ago you were leaning into his touch promising that you weren’t going to leave him and now you’re rethinking your life choices.
You still could walk away. You could turn him in. But the thought of it—the thought of Johnny knowing, of him coming for you in the dark—chilled you to the bone. More than that, the thought of losing him did something worse.
Just months before your third year anniversary it became more obvious to Johnny that you knew everything, and he was never going to bring it up and neither were you.
It was a silent game, one where the rules were unwritten but deeply understood. You carried on like nothing had changed, like the world hadn’t shifted under your feet the moment you unzipped that duffel bag. You laughed when Johnny cracked a joke, kissed him when he pulled you in, played the part of the woman who loved him.
Because, in a way, you still did.
How could you not, after all these years? After all the whispered affections, the late-night drives with his hand resting warm on your thigh, the way he made you feel like you were the only thing in the world that mattered?
So you ignored it. Blissfully. Desperately.
And Johnny?
Johnny accepted it with quiet amusement, as if this was the outcome he had expected all along.
There was something almost fond in the way he looked at you now, like he was proud—pleased that you had seen the truth and stayed anyway. He had no reason to coax you into compliance, no reason to explain himself or offer any sort of justification. You hadn’t run and that told him everything he needed to know.
So he didn’t press. Didn’t ask. Didn’t so much as mention what had happened that night by the truck.
Instead, he kissed your temple when he came home late, murmured a soft, “Missed you, sweetheart.” He held you tighter when you stirred in your sleep, warm and possessive, like you were something worth keeping safe.
Despite everything— despite the horror, despite the blood on his hands—part of you still loved him.
And that part? It was winning.
He pulled you into his lap, his hands warm and steady on your waist, Johnny tilted his head, studying you with something close to admiration.
“You’re real good at pretendin’, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips just barely grazing your temple.
Then he smiled, easy and content, like he knew—like he’d always known—that you weren’t ever gonna leave. What would even happen if you left, would you make it?… Time flies and now your third year anniversary with him… What the hell are you going to do?
Warning: Manipulation, Threats, Fluff, Smut, Possession, Red Flags but we’re colorblind ofc
A/N: when i tell you gals… this took over 6 months to get done simply because of my fucking writers block, i’m not lying. please enjoy <3
_______________________________________________
Flashback:
The airs room thickens. “What do you mean you don’t like Johnny?” Your eyes linger on your friend.
His head hung low, “I’m saying I don’t like Johnny. He seems… off.”
“Is it because of those rumors? Leland, this has been the fifth time you’ve brought him up. I’ve been best friends with him for awhile now, those rumors aren’t true.”
“You don’t see it, do you? Johnny’s like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Those rumors—they’re not just something to let go. They’re whispers for a reason. Ever since him and his sick family came about there’s more disappearances more than ever in Newt. Everyone has been talking about it forever!” He explained, “The only reason you don’t know about any of it is because everyone is too scared to tell you— they’re scared what Johnny will do about it…”
Your mind goes blank, you’ve heard some rumors here and there. But Johnny always had a reason for every rumor— it has to all be a coincidence.
“Leland, I don’t know what you want me to do. Do you want me to drop him— I’ve been friends with him longer than you!” You snap back. Ever since you had introduced the too to each other it seemed as if Leland was constantly trying to pull you away from Johnny.
You added, “You know, Johnny told me that this kind of thing was gonna happen with you…”
________________________________________
You explain your memory on the situation, looking out your window. Your garden is covered in droplets and mildew, but your parents never let some rain pour bother their vacation plans but wouldn’t have left in the first place if they knew how bad it really was last night, however. Raindrops gently tap against the glass and you finally look at Johnny for his reaction.
“Wow, darlin’, he really said of that? Sheesh,” Johnny let out a chuckle, it clears the silence.
You sit on your bed. Your fingers fidget with your blanket. Johnny sat in your desk chair, his feet planted on your dest, an apple in hand. The sun captures a particular twinkle on his body…
… Was there always a knife attached to his hip?
“J-Johnny, I don’t know.” You clearly weren’t fancying his answer, not sure how to feel.
“What chu’ mean?”
“I mean— Leland said you threaten him.”
“It’s true,” He quickly comments, “But! He threatened me first, bet chu’ he didn’t tell ya that.” He got up to lean against your desk now, his eyes not leaving your figure.
The room seemed to have gotten smaller. The only background noise was the slow drip of the raindrops.
“Johnny,” you break the silent cautiously, “What’s up about the rumors— the disappearances?”
His gaze held yours, lingering. “Leland’s got it all wrong. My family— they’re just older folk and my siblings tend to show their crazier side. And those women he talks about? He’s lyin’, he’s jealous.” He plead quietly.
Yet, you remembered yesterday night— Johnny vanished. You two were stuck in his truck in the middle of the rough thunderstorm the night before. The truck held a type of tension that could cut through the air. You had gotten… too close. After that, he took you home. You both had seemingly decided to not mention it today…
“But Leland said he thinks that you’re dangerous,” you said, your voice harshened. “He thinks you’re hiding something.” Trying to get him to even fathom what you were trying to say.
Johnny puts his apple down on your desk and slowly looks up at you again. He now comes forward and walks up front of you, his boots stomping on the floor softly, “And what do you think, darlin’? Ya think any of that’s true?” His demeanor switched. You pause and look around the room, for any sign of it being ‘anything’, because in this moment you weren’t sure of anything.
He tilts his head looking down at your stiff figure, “Come on, I’m your best friend, ya know I’m telling the truth…”
Your face twisted into concern… You couldn’t tell who was right and who was wrong. The room felt suffocating, like the world was on pause unless you say something.
His hands lay alone on the bed, trapping you and his head leaned closer to your face, trying to make you look at him. “Just believe me, (Y/N).” His voice held venom to it, but you couldn’t help but notice how hard he was gripping your shoulders.
This wasn’t just Leland anymore, if the whole town has talked about it like Leland said— then was it true?
The room held its breath, waiting for your answer.
“Johnny.” You whispered, your voice swaying against the closed space between you and him, “If we’re best friend— like you say we are— then why am I just finding out about these rumors now? You’d think it would be very important for me to know all of this.” You turn away, shifting your position sitting onto the other side of the bed, facing away.
He walked up around the bed frame and bent down to his knees looking up at you this time now, silently pleaing for understanding through his eyes. “Darlin’, ya know me. Ya know my family. We’re not what they say. Those women were just mad I regretted them—”
“But the disappearances,” you interrupted. “The rumors. They can’t all be lies...“ Your eyes tighten in confusion and anger.
His breath hitched, and for a moment, you saw vulnerability in his eyes. “That Leland guy?— or whatever— he’s twisted it all wrong. He’s jealous, he’s bitchin’ for a reason. He wants us to stop talking to each other.” He grabs your shoulders and shakes you slightly.
“And you?” The question hung between you, heavy as the dry Texas air. “What are you hiding then, Johnny?”
“(Y/N), we’ve been friends for how long?… I have done things, things I can’t undo. But I’d never hurt ya.”
Leaning away from him again he hesitated to release your shoulders and your figure holds yourself up on your elbows on your bed. Though your eyes notice the knife again, you couldn’t help but keep ushering him to tell a truth. “How can I trust you? Hell, you’ve never even told me about how you have that damn scar on your face…”
“Because i knew ya poor heart wouldn’t be able to handle it.” He says turning around looking at the wall, “Ya know i’d protect you. This scar on my face? That is a long story that i’m not even wantin’ to talk about, okay?” It felt as if he couldn’t even bare to look at you, you sit back up and stand up behind him.
“Tell me the truth, John, please.” You asked one more time.
His voice dropped to a whisper, “Don’t mind it, sugar. I promise non of it is true…” He turned around looking for any sense of acceptance in your face, “Okay?” He asked.
You nod your head, “Okay Johnny,” You said, “As long as you’re telling me the truth.”
________________________________________
The next day the rain had finally cleared and the sun was shining hella bright, you two end up going into town for a sweet treat. Though, you finally noticed that people far away are giving you wide eyes. ‘Is my hair a mess? Oh my god— is my makeup running?… Was it Johnny?’ Your thoughts raced, ‘But Johnny was a sweetheart, right?’
Johnny and you had figured that getting ice cream in this texan environment would be a delight, in fact he was already pushing you into an ice cream parlor. An older women waited for you two at the cashier watching you come through the door. As you two walked past all of the tables lined up against the walls a man whispered into the waiting women’s ear and she immediately walked away. The man now awaited instead.
Johnny immediately tried to pull you back and away from the man but you had already made eye contact with the cashier. He greets with a gesture, “Hey there, what can I get for you, princess?”
You let out a hesitate chuckle, “Heh, I’ll get…”
You trailed off on your order. Johnny couldn’t help but stare at the man. His hand rested on his knife as his eyes looked over at the way his hand grazed yours, the way he smiled at you, the way his eyes tried to look down your shirt—
"Johnny, can you grab me a spoon?” You ask Johnny. Johnnys trance is broken and his hand leaves his knife. All he simply does is nod, hand you a few dollars for the cups of ice cream and walk away.
But before Johnny could walk away the cashier whispers to you, "No, I'll pay for it, on the house— only if you give me a kiss.” He winks and you finally recognized why he came to the cashier instead of the women.
"U-Um… no thanks." You immediately said uncomfortablely, “Here.” You hand him the amount of needed money and shove it closer to him while leaning back. His face creases into a grimace as he looks at Johnny.
He glances at you, then back to Johnny, then back to you. You knew Johnny was looking right at the man regardless if you looked back or not— you could tell. There's a source of tension in the air around you as you noticed how the strangers brows furrowed, and you can't help but feel a lump in your throat.
“Well?” You forced yourself to said, “M-My ice cream?”
The man shakes his head and hands you the two cups ice cream while scoffing, “Do you know who the hell he is? I can’t believe this shit.” And with that he left into another room behind him. Your face couldn’t hide the utter confusion the situation that just happened. All you could do is hand Johnny his ice cream and walk out the door, not bothering to stay.
"That guy was something, wasn't he?" You hand the cup of ice cream to him and thank him for paying giving him his spoon.
"Maybe," Johnny quietly replies. “But you see how he looked at me? He looked at me like I was some sort a monster or somethin'."
Johnny now leans against the wall and doesn’t seem to be interested in the ice cream anymore.
You think back to Leland... the town really did believe the rumors... should you?
"Yeah. It'll be fine, right?..." You take a lightly bite of the ice cream.
Johnnys eyes perk open, his body slugs against the brick wall, "Maybe." Johnny replies with a large smile. You take another bite watching him closely, recognizing that his ‘maybe’ might have not been a statement to yours a moment ago.
“I have an idea…” He sang to himself, smirking looking out into the street. Your mind was racing, and you couldn't help but feel a slight tingle of unease.
However, as Johnny leans his body against yours, the muscles on his arms grazing yours and his head leaning onto yours and the tension seemed to melt away like ice cream.
It was almost as if Johnny was trying to rid you of any sort of doubt you once had. His tender touch, his gentle demeanor, it was all... comforting.
"Hey, how bout' ya come to my place. Show ya how pretty is." He says. You've never really been over to his property but from what you heard it's a little 'too pretty'.
You nod my head, "Yes, let's do that."
"Darlin'," He gestures you to walk first and he throws the ice cream in the trash. ‘Darlin’ Its the way his accent rolls off his tongue when he says it and your cheeks turn pink every time— the sweetest thing you hear from him.
Like a switch went off, his walk has a pep in his step, but you giggle as you finish your treat. He seems awfully happy all of a sudden, but you don't mind it, you liked when he was giddy.
As you walk alongside Johnny, the sun casts long shadows across the dusty road. The townspeople’s wary glances follow you both, like crows watching a pair of unsuspecting travelers. Throwing the cup into an upcoming trash can, you suddenly felt Johnny’s hand brushes against yours and you couldn’t help but realize that you definitely had a crush on Johnny.
Johnnys words suddenly echo in your mind: “He looked at me like I was some sort of monster.”
They see Johnny’s family as a ‘horror’, their eyes wide with suspicion. But you? You’ve felt the softness of his touch, the warmth of his gaze. You didn’t see any monsters in him.
As you climb into his truck and shut the door, its engine roars to life. The tires kick up dirt, and you yelp as he hit the curb side. The wind tousles your hair, and you hold on tight, heart racing as you rush to put on your seatbelt.
“Sorry ‘bout dat, princess!” His words coat his lips like sugar, smooth and effortless. His voice—a blend of charm and raw honey—wraps around you like a well-worn quilt. It’s a voice that could soothe storms and ignite fires.
You steal a glance at him—the way his fingers grip the steering wheel, the sun-kissed lines etched around his eyes. There’s a wildness there, a hint of something untamed but it only adds to his sometimes stoic personality.
You wondered back to that night you two were stuck in that thunderstorm… you nearly forgot about that. ________________________________________
Flash back:
“Johnny… I’m nervous.” You said looking out the window.
Johnny shifts back in his seat, leaning against the door trying to get comfortable with the uncomfortable wet clothing sticking to his body. The rain seemed to beat harder on the roof of his truck. Breaking your parents rule with going out, You two had just ran a marathon through the park trail to get back to the truck.
“What chu’ mean? The rain scaring you?” He asked.
“I-I mean, the rain is kind of freaking me out, where the hell did it even come from? It was sunny an hour ago… but—“ You paused.
His brows furrowed, turning towards you, waiting for what will come after, “But?”
Looking at him, you hold your legs together in the truck seat, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “It’s so weird,” You start, looking at your drenched clothing, “how can I be freezing from the rain,” You explained at first, grabbing the ends of your hair squeezing it onto the truck floor, “but my body feels hot right now?” You look down, embarrassed by your own confession. Wet dropplets from his hair dripped onto his lap, his legs spread, thinking of what to say.
Johnny smirks, that damn smirk that always has you blushing. “Oh really? What kind of hot?”
“I’m not sure. I remember when we always snuck out when we were a bit younger. I always had to climb out my window before my parents found out that there was a ‘random’ truck parked outside.” You chuckle at the memory. “It was a crazy feeling, and I’ve noticed it still hasn’t gone away… It feels different now too.”
He leans in closer, “Yeah? I think I feel the same way.”
The confession hangs in the air, a shared secret between you two. It’s as if you both of you knew the truth about each other already. The truck feels smaller now. His back leaned off from the door and towards you and your body couldn’t stop itself from leaning into him. Suddenly you two we’re so close, close enough to feel the heat radiating off each others body.
“You do?”
…
Loud thunder cracked through the sky. Loud. You gasped as the truck vibrated under the sound, thunder was scary at a point but now you were getting unnerved about the rain.
You suggested, “I think you should take me home… m’kay?”
Johnny leans away and lets out a sigh, “Okay.”
_______________________________________
The drive home from that night was so awkward after…
You guys finally pull up to his property; his step dad’s property. He hates his step dad. He never really mentioned his mom as often as his step dad now that you thought about it… Every moment you ever did bring her up he’d change the topic.
Though, the house was beautiful, too beautiful— like everyone said it would be. In fact, flowers in an array of colors almost covered the entire property.
Sunflowers, they beautifully bloom, peeking out from the backyard. Their vibrant yellow petals contrasted with the dark secrets that lay hidden within the walls of that house.
“Oh, so this is the house you take all your women, huh?” You broke the silence.
“No, no. Just a few flings.”
Your heart kinda broke at that comment. You made a joke and Johnny’s casual remark about at your joke hit you harder than you expected. It was a joke, sure, but it sliced through your heart like a shard of glass.
You had laughed it off, but the truth lingered—a string of flings, a trail of memories left behind. You wondered if they whispered to each other, sharing memories, just like you and Johnny did.
Johnny’s voice cut your thoughts off. “Don’t worry,” He said, his eyes searching yours. “The girls or I didn’t like each other enough anyway. Part of the reason why I won’t see them again.”
His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken regret. You wanted to ask more about these past flings, the women who had came and gone but instead, you forced a smile. “Funny,” you replied, your attempt at nonchalance falling flat. “They’re called flings for a reason.”
Johnny’s gaze softened, and he reached for your hand. “They aren’t important,” he said, his thumb tracing circles on your skin, “But you are.”
You smile and look away, trying to hide the obvious heat rising on your face. As you two walk along the side road, he continued, “Come on, I wanted you to show you the back, mostly. When my mother got together with my stepdad, this place was a mess. But with her touch…” He gestured toward the backyard, and your breath caught.
The sun, now a warm golden orb, dipped toward the horizon, casting a gentle glow over the landscape. The flowers—oh, the flowers!—seemed to dance in the light. Petals flowed like delicate skirts in the wind, their colors intensified by the sun. Roses blushed crimson, hundreds of sunflowers stood tall in rows, and lavender flowed through the cool breeze.
“John!” You stammered, your eyes not leaving the landscape, “I-I can’t believe this. It’s…” Your words trailed off, pausing to capture the beauty of the moment. The backyard, is of a beauty.
As the sun dipped slowly lower with each minute, but you imagined his mom hands tending to each petal, creating life from the soil. She had turned the so called mess into bouncing colors, and in that quiet backyard, you felt her presence.
“Yeah,” he said softly, “it’s our little piece of art. I remember her forcing me to do garden work but lookin’ at it now. I don’t regret doing it.”
His hand pushes against the small of your back, hurrying further into the garden. Behind the garden hid a good amount of broken down cars. Johnny was a mechanic of course, so it made sense. The art unfortunately was covering Johnnys hobby.
“All these cars but not one of em are finished?” You teased.
“Aye— I try. I’m too busy dealing with your ass.” He teased back.
You laugh and look down at the ground, shyly.
He motions you towards him when he walks a bit further down.
“Come on, short stack.”
He opens the car door closest to ya’ll, to the back seat. The car seemed so pristine. It must have been freshly broken down. But… it looked a little too cleaned. Climbing in, you settled in. The leathers of the seat were warm due to the hot sun beating onto the roof, but you didn’t mind. Johnny piles into the back too through the other side. Leaving the doors open he looks at you, “So, what did ya’ think? Pretty?” He asked, taking off his yellow working gloves.
“Beautiful. It’s so beautiful out here, why wouldn’t you ever bring me here?”
His features dropped, looking at the drivers seat in front of him, “You ask too many questions,” He lets out a small chuckle, “My ma, she left for the weekend. I figured today would be okay to sneak ya onto the property. She isn’t too fond of new visitors… And the rest of my family don’t and won’t know you’re here.”
He trails off and looks down at the ground but regardless you nod along at his explanation. His mother really seemed off. If you’ve known him this long his mother must know me even a little? “Well, you think she and maybe your family would be okay with me? Maybe she—“
“Nope. she’s… different, that’s why i snuck you here.” He harshly interrupted, and it seemed intentional.
“By this point you’re leaving me with more questions than answers. What is it with your mom anyway? This place was made pretty by her but with how you describe her she sounds like… like— like a evil person?”
It was as if a switch was just flipped, “Would ya stop your bitchin’ and askin’ about Nancy? I don’t want to talk about her, end of story. I don’t want chu’ meetin’ her because she’s a crazed’ ass women.”
He shifts away into his seat, not baring to face you. His leg hooks over the edge and steps out of the car. Your eyes flicker every where else but him. ‘Did I take it too far?’ You thought. You grab at your own arms in a comfort waiting for him to do the talking— you were too scared to speak.
He leans back into the door way, his head poking in with his arms leaning onto the car door frame, “I’m— I didn’t mean it like that, sweetheart. The only thing chu’ need to know is that I despise my mother… That’s all. Would you let me see that pretty face again, angel?”
Looking away even more, you decided to speak up again, “Everything about you is always so confusin’. What are we?” You shift in your seat, moving your body away from him more, leaning out your door, “You can call me all these sweet nicknames, act like i’m something more to you but treat me as if i’m not important enough to not know your personal life or that damn scar on your face! I think you’re playing with my feelings.” You spit out.
“Hey… I didn’t mean it like that.” He says trying to reason.
“Yeah, just—“
He crawls back into the cars back seat. Getting closer he reaches behind you and shuts the door you came in through. His hand leans onto the door behind you holding himself up, his other hand trapping you in his frame. The way he stared at you reminded you of that night in the truck, the rain the tension—
“Johnny— about that night...” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking.
Johnny looks away, trying to look at anything else as if he was a lil’ embarrassed, “I was just about to mention that… I thought you weren’t gonna bring that up again.”
“I wish I didn’t tell you to take me home.”
The air inside the car feels charged, thick with anticipation. His body still leaned over yours, not moving. Johnny’s eyes search yours again, and you can almost hear the gears turning in his head. His fingers brush against your cheek, tracing the curve of your jawline. The weight of his gaze is both thrilling and nerve-wracking.
“Sweetheart, you sweet, sweet thing.” he murmurs, his voice a low rasp.
His lips hover just inches from yours, and you can feel the warmth of his breath. “I’m assuming we both knew what was about to happen in my truck that night, huh?” He chuckled out.
“It’s not exactly the stuff of romance novels,” you say, your voice barely audible. You hand slowly reached up and touched his scar on his face, tracing the edges and trialing off to put your hand on his chest softly, “But it was romanic to me. The rain, the tension, your wet hair, there was so much tension. I should’ve done something about it.”
He paused.
Without any word being said he lugged forward.
His lips meet yours, and the world outside fades away. There’s no soundtrack in the background, no grand gestures—just the taste of vanilla ice cream, and the desperation of his mouth against yours. It’s not shy or hesitant; it’s hungry. Your body was cramped against the car door but you didn’t care in the moment.
His hands tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, “I thought you weren’t ever gonna cue me into this, darlin’…” The leather seat creaks beneath you as he shifts, deepening the kiss. And suddenly, the cars cramped interior feels like the most intimate place in the world. “I wish I would have done something sooner.”
His touch was impatient, urgent-a starving ache that consumed them both. Fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, as if he could meld your souls through the kiss.
You slid down the seat— it being more comfortable than the uneven surface of the door— your heart racing, and lay back, your hands resting on his hips. He hovered above you, “God damn it, it is gettin’ way too hot in here f’me…” He takes his shirt off and throws it in the front seat. And there he was, shirtless. The dips of his defined chest are definded by the fading light. Scars littered his skin. His gaze bore into yours, hungry and unyielding.
His voice, a teasing whisper, sent shivers down your spine. "See sum' you like?" he murmured, his eyes locking onto yours. It wasn't just any desire— it felt elevated. In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist.
You nodded, unable to form words. His mouth found yours once more, claiming you without a doubt.
You squeeze your eyes shut as his mouth strikes yours, inviting you into a rough embrace. A low, mumbled moan vibrates from your lips onto his, causing him to chuckle. Immediately, his arms around you press you against his body, bringing your small frame into a cradle as he leans back up. Your legs wrap around his hips, his hands gripping your your lower back and the back of your neck.
How effortlessly he handled your body made your head spin. His broad shoulders covered the open door behind him, and he props himself with his hands on the seats beside him. He leans to one side, letting his free hand fidget with your shorts, his lips never leaving for breath. He tugs them off, chuckling as they fumble over your thighs.
You could feel his hard cock press against your crotch through his rough pants and you whimpered, his lips felt so good against your skin. His experienced touch began to get more firmly with every moan and sigh you let out.
Johnny trails his kisses down to your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. His hands caught onto your breasts through your shirt, massaging into their warmth. You take off your shirt and with bright eyes as he leans in. His nose is buried into your cleavage, and you take the time to undo the back of your bra, and sliding the straps down your arms. His hands yank the rest of the fabric off your arms, his mouth latched onto your nipple, a low drawn-out moan escaping your lips.
You wondered how loud is too loud. Will his family hear y’all from the back yard. Can they see you two rocking the car trying to grab at each other?
It was as if he could hear your overthinking thoughts, “It’s okay, darlin’, i’ll take care of everything, all chu’ need to do is be quiet.” His lips finally detached from your chest with a pop and put his forehead against yours. He gave a smile— with teeth. A genuine smile. His eyes created wrinkles due to the smile, it was cute. You rarely see it.
You smile back and lean up to capture his lips again. My hands go down his bare back, feeling the scars down his spine. His head dipped slowly down your body, and your breath hitched. His lips, warm and insistent, left a trail of fire along your skin.
“What are you doing to me?” You gasp out. His hand reaches up and and puts a finger on your lips, as if to shut you up. He didn’t even bother to look up, he was staring at your panties.
The feeling of his hand tightening made your pussy pulse and seems to have notice your panties shift ever so slightly. “Ooo, baby girl, you like that, don’t you? You’re gonna be leakin’… after i’m done with you that is.” A breathy laugh left his throat. Realizing he could see everything you try and close your legs but his other arm holds one thigh down and he lays his head on the other. His hand on your mouth let go and his fingers trail along the hem of your panties.
“Not so fast, i’m taking my time with you. Been wantin’ this forever now.”
You blush, “Forever?” He nods his head, “Honey, with a body and spunk like yours ya think I wouldn’t wanna explore more?” He remarks and blows against your panties. You let out a whine, it pushes him further. He licks a long stripe along the cloth. Your eyes widen as you watched him.
His thick fingers pulled your panties to the side. He takes a breath in, “You smell so sweet, darlin’,” he kisses right above your pussy. Your clit twitches. “Now, my family can’t see us but keep it down for me.” You nod your head eagerly.
Without another word he dove in. Your legs try to clench together but his hand didn’t budge to let them do so. His tongue worked on your clit, it was clear that he had experience but it felt like he was starving for years. He shakes his head against your pussy and groans, “Mmh, this pussy was made for me.”
You let out a long strangled sigh, “Johnny— Ngh.” Your elbows shifted behind you to hold yourself up to watch his tongue work wonders on you.
“— Leakin’ all over.” He groans into your folds, the vibrations were enough to make your back arch. His tongue was relentless, trying to get into every crevice for your sweet nectar. Johnny couldn’t get enough, he resorts to pushing your upper body back down on the seat. Your trance was broken, “Johnny?”
He gets out the car, determinations behind his eyes, “I’m just trying to get a better angle on you, angel.” When he leans out from the car door, it looked as if he was looking around first, making sure the sunflowers and other cars blocked the view if his family looked outside. His hands grasp your waist pulling your body down the sweaty leather seat, he held your calf’s and he looks at you like he was giving you a warning. All of a sudden he folds your body. You gasp as your thighs met your waist and your feet dangle in the air. Your pussy was on full display in the glowing sun. It was embarrassing, he could see everything…
“Aw, princess, ya look even more beautiful in the sun…” He was in awe, “I ain’t never seen a prettier thing in my life.”
Your head spinned at the embarrassment, your face red and hot. The angle was better, the way he was able to fold your body and you were squirming under his hold was way too much. His tongue began his assault again. Your hand slaps over your mouth again, muffling your moans, your other hand shoots down to his hair. The gel in his hair was noticeable but your fingers run through the strains, breaking the seal. His hair was wild, cowlicks hovering over his forehead, you didn’t care though— the look of it was… fuck.
Using his thumbs, he spreads apart your throbbing folds, slick with his own spit and your arosoul. You let out a small whine, trying to close your legs again.
He smirks, “Gettin’ all shy now?”
You shake your head, “U-Um, no, just… never had someone look at my—… so close, y’know?”
He sticks out his tongue, it prods against your hole, and it’s gonna go into your pussy… His eyes watch your reaction and yours widen as you felt it go inside your pussy, he was practically tongue fucking you—
“A-ah, oh my god.” You breathe out. He huffed in amusement against your folds, his thumbs continue to hold your them apart. You tremble uncontrollably in pure arousal and excitement as he rubs the flat of his drooling tongue against your slick. He watched as you writhed on the leather seats, eyes closed, and your mouth in an ‘o’ shape. Seeing you spread out for him like this really stirs something in him– your chest heaving and your breathing hitching and slow, but your face still looks peaceful, in bliss. Your hands retreats back to his hair, you’re grinding on his mouth now and his eyes flutter close, he smirking against your pussy.
Just as it was getting good, “Holy s-shit!~ Mmh—“ You moaned out on accident and he immediately bit your thigh. His teeth were enough to feel as if a dog did it instead, you’re about to let out a strangled yell but his hand latches onto your mouth and the other on the back of your neck. His harsh grip pulled your upper body up and he makes you stare up at him. He grabbed his shirt to wipe the slick off his mouth and he turned back to you.
His body was towering over yours, with you laying on your back and his large frame he blocked the sunset— it was making it darker in the car. “What’d i say? I said to keep quiet.” The hand that was latched to your mouth drifted to your cheeks, squeezing them together like you were a toy. His eyes were upset, angered, “You were doing so well— what would we do if my family hears us?” He squeezed your cheeks harder to motion your face to get closer to him. “Now keep quiet.” The look in his eyes were different, he was genuinely scared of them hearing you two? His words hung heavy in the dim space, and you could feel the weight of his desperation.
The car's interior felt suffocating, the air thick with tension. His body loomed over yours, casting a shadow that swallowed the last rays of the setting sun. His grip on your cheeks was harsh, but he soon let go but not without a look of warning.
You began to really wonder about the rumors—about his family. What about Leland? Was he telling the truth? Johnny was a grown man, why would he be this scared to be caught? This felt off.
When his touch shifted, and you couldn’t help but wince. His breath was hot against your skin, and you could see the anger etched into the lines of his face.
“Now be a good girl for me and we’ll be okay, got tha’?”
You nod slowly, still taken back by his roughness from only moments before. He smirks and drags his fingers along your folds. He prods the tip of his pointer finger and middle finger at your entrance. “Wait—“
He shoves them in, your hand slammed onto your mouth and you held your breath. He grins, wasting no time, pushing them in to his knuckle. You’ve fingered yourself plenty of times but it was nothing compared to how thick his fingers were, they filled you up. He growled at the tightness, “Ooo, baby girl, you are milkin’ my fingers.”
He slides them back out, “Lemme’ see,” he groans. He shifts his hand, adding a third finger in your pussy. The burning stretch made your breathing become faster and he couldn’t help but laugh lowly, “Maybe Leland wanted to get rid of me because he wanted a chance with this pussy—“
You close your legs automatically at the name drop, “That wasn’t called for. Don’t bring Leland into this.” His eyes sharpen, and he pulls his fingers out, you continue, “He’s only lookin’ out me for me… that’s it.”
A switch went off again, is expression was no longer cocky, it was more than cocky. “Heh.” He chuckled darkly, “Leland. What a fuckin’ joke.” He gets up and starts tugging at his belt, the tent in his pants clearly straining against the denim. You notice how rough he was loosing his belt, his wet finger smearing across the leather. “You,” He spoke up, “You better know what hole you’re diggin’ for yourself darlin’.”
You try and deescalate his visible anger, “J-Johnny, I didn’t mean it like that.”
His available hand ran through his hair, frustratingly, “I knew I had to get rid of him soon enough, I didn’t do it quick enough.” He whispered under his breath.
Your eyes shoot wide hearing this, “I’ll… I’ll get rid of him,” You say, your hand resting on his hand on his belt, trying to comfort him, “I promise. He’s been a pain in my ass anyway.” You lie through your teeth.
Johnnys teeth grit in a silent huff, “Yeah,” He smiles, “Real pain in my ass.” He repeats. His fingers, now free from the belt, traced a path up your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
He dips down closer to your face, his hands grasping yours, pinning them above your head onto the doors window with one hand and the other grabbing your chin to look at him. “You think you can handle it?” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “Getting rid of him?”
You swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing heart and your hands struggling against his grip, “I can handle it,” you whispered, meeting his gaze with as much confidence as you could muster. “For you, Johnny, I can handle anything.”
The wind picked up outside, the breeze grazing against your exposed pussy. Your legs shake when you felt his hand graze against your cold skin. As you looked up his body you notice something, his knife. It glinted in the sunlight as he repositioned himself noticing your shivering body. He bent backwards and proceeded to shut the door— letting you warm up… and in the process trapping you inside.
Settling in, he smirked, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Good,” he said to your confession, his hand moving to cup your chin, tilting your face up to his. “But if you can’t— you leave now.”
Your face lit up in confusion, “I-I… leave?” Your eyes search around the car for any answer, “W-What do you mean?”
Johnny’s grip tightened slightly on your pinned hands, his eyes narrowing as he studied your reaction. “Yeah, leave,” he repeated, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. “If you can’t handle it— if you feel like me asking to get rid of Leland is too much, then there’s no place for you. You open the door yourself and let yourself out.”
You felt a shiver run down your spine, the weight of his words sinking in. “I can handle it,” you insisted, your voice trembling but determined. “Please, Johnny, I promise.” You didn’t even try to lift your pinned hands from his grip.
Johnny’s expression softened just a fraction, but the threating tension lingered in the air. “You’ve got one chance,” he warned. “Don’t mess it up.”
Though you do care about Leland, he was so determined to warn you about Johnny— but now, the fear of losing Johnny was overwhelming, leaving you no choice but to comply. Leland will be okay…
The moment he recognized that you were being serious about his wishes, Johnny’s demeanor shifted slightly. His grip on your hands loosened, and a flicker of something softer passed through his eyes. “Alright, darlin’.”
He released your chin, but his gaze remained intense, analyzing every change of your expression. His fingers trail onto your thigh, the same area where he had bit you earlier, the teeth marks being every evident. “I’m sorry if I scared ya’… I really care about us,” he apologized, his voice still carrying an edge of danger. “But I’m trusting you with this.”
You nod your head slowly, feeling his hand drift down your body. His grip was soft again as he hails your leg over his shoulder, your heart pounded in your chest—the mixture of fear and longing almost overwhelming. Your chest slightly recoiled as he readjusted himself, and your breath fastened when you saw his face contort into Johnny’s face contorted into a mix of desire and desperation, his breath hot against the side of your calf. The car seemed to shrink around you. His hands, now gentle, traced a path down your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
“Darlin’,” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “I need you to understand how much this means to me.”
You shook your head, your heart pounding in your chest. The fear of losing him was a constant ache, but so was the longing to be close to him, to feel his touch and hear his voice.
“I do understand,” you whispered back, your voice shaken. “I-I… I just don’t want to lose you.”
Just yesterday you two were in your room trying to compromise each others worlds of rumors and whispers and now you were in a random car with Johnny on top of you…
His eyes softened further, and for a moment, you saw that vulnerability— the same vulnerability he’s always gave you beneath his tough exterior. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss that spoke of so much possession and promise.
“Good,” he said softly, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. “Because I don’t wanna lose you either.”
His fingers trail back to your pussy, barely pushing the tip of his finger inside, and before you could ask why he was hesitant he asks, “I was gettin’ a lil’ ahead of myself back there, i’m sorry. C-Can I?” He stuttered. He stuttered? Like a mirror you hesitate too, but you nod again. As he put his fingers back in he immediately hooks them upward, pushing against your sweet spot. Your hands went to his arm, keeping the pace for him as your mouth panted trying to keep up. He noticed and leaned into your neck as he slowly added another finger, “Breathe,” He whispered, “Breathe for me, girl. It’s okay.”
His other hand fidgeted with his knife. Your eyes darted down towards the shiny reflective steel wondering what he was going to do with it… But he only threw it into the front seat and it landed beside his discarded shirt. Your eyes slowly close, relaxing on his fingers, you plusing subconsciously around his thick fingers.
He takes them out spreading them apart, seeing familiar slick cover the scars littered over his fingers. As you watched him observe the sticky ooze connect and hang through his fingers you assumed that he was going to wipe them onto his pants or lick them but instead he lends them towards your face. With confusion, you instinctively open your mouth and without another moment he drags his slick fingers along your tongue. Tasting yourself wasn’t the most surprising thing that has happened but you’ve never thought to try this yourself. You suck on them with your eyes slightly open, but you watch his face curl into a pleased expression, “Good girl~” He whispered with a growl.
With no more hesitation you began to hold onto his wrist keeping them still as you opened your mouth twirling your tongue throughout his thick fingers. When your lips fully wrap around he couldn’t stand it anymore— he couldn’t stand another moment being in his pants. His cock was too tight against the demium, he wanted to be inside you. He pulls his fingers out with a pop, and rushes to fully pull off his pants.
“Girl, You have no idea what the hell you’re doin’ to me.” He gasped. When he took off his pants and threw them into the floor of the car he couldn’t quite wait to take off his underwear, “Fuck this shit.” His hand reaches into his underwear and he takes out of his cock. It looked heavy, and you really thought the bulge in his pants was big… more you had thought about it the more you realized he walked like it was heavy too.
His hand stroked his cock trying to relieve the pressure. You wanted to help him, your hand reaching over placing it on top of his on his dick, “Woah,” He stopped, “Wha’ chu’ doin’?” He said. “Oh darlin’— you don’t need ta’…” Johnnys words fanned across your face as his eyes closed shut tight as you smeared the leaking pre-cum around his tip with your thumb. Your index finger traced the vein that ran along the underside of his shaft. The action had Johnny let out a long sigh towering above you.
Johnny shoves your hand softy, “As much as I want ta’ fuck your hand— I wan’ to fuck you more.” He opens your legs, displaying your pussy to him again. He finally takes his underwear off fully in a hurry, letting out a loud sigh as he threw them into the front seat. He leans down licking small stripes up between your folds for a moment and your body couldn’t hold back the shiver that went through you body when his lips sucked on your clit softly. He detached himself as he moved his body against yours, you couldn't help but feel a mix of fear and excitement all over again. You finally knew he was capable of, and yet you couldn't resist the pull of his presence. You fully relaxed your body as much as you could and he pulled your leg up, your body instinctively arching up to meet his.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear again. "Ya' ready, or nah?" he whispered, his voice deep and gravelly. You could feel his breath on your neck, his muscles flexing as he held himself up waiting for your response. You felt like a virgin again, like this was the scariest thing you’ve had to do but you were excited and for proof: you shake your head but quickly began to nod, “Yea— Yes, I’m ready.”
You gasped as you felt his shaft rubbing between your folds, "I'm ready," you repeated, your voice a little shaky.
This was all a sweet honey trap; an illusion to lure you in. He's managed to keep your eyes closed, your mind empty, and your attention on him. He's got you right where he wants you...
He watched you carefully, his sharpened gaze never leaving your face as his hard cock finally pushed into you slowly, quickly adapting to your plush walls. The way your breath hitched, the way your body arched beneath his touch made his eyes roll back and close. You were tight, he wasn’t used to it. His hands roamed across your skin, finger nails on your hips digging into your flesh just enough to leave a mark.
He pressed his hips harder against yours and a harsh gasp came out of your mouth, it hurt, “W-Wait,” You whispered, “F-Fuck, it hurts.” He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through your chest as he dipped his head down to bite gently at your neck when your pussy started twitching and pulsing around his dick. “Relax, darlin’. I thought chu’ told me you weren’t a virgin.” He chuckle recalling you telling him you were during a innocent game of 20 questions. He knew why it was painful, he may be cocky but he wasn’t dumb. “Am I too big for ya’, princess?”
You chuckle out a laugh even if it was shaky, “Shut up.” You nod your head, “I think it’s feeling a little better.” You said. He couldn’t stop himself with the biggest grin on his face from reaching between you two to your clit, gently rubbing it. Your legs wrap around his waist in reflex, instinctively locking them while your head leaned back in a pleasant sigh.
“G-Go.” Is all you could say.
Without another question he grabbed your waist and leaned over you, “Just relax your body.” He pushed his hips out and then back in slowly, thrusting into you with the combination of half and full strokes to draw every small noise from you. The slow bounce of your tits are hypnotizing to him, more so he decided to speed up the pace. Your hands hold on to his shoulders, sealing your lips together in a thin line as much as you could to keep quiet but it was becoming really hard to.
One of his hands on your waist drifted up to your chest, squeezing your nipple teasingly only to leaning down the lick it and wrap his mouth around it. Your body still jerked along with his thrust but your hands let go of his shoulders and instead held onto the back of his neck and the other in his hair again.
“Don’t stop.” You whispered in a quiet strained voice. He moaned against your nipple and began to speed up. He unlatched from your chest and grabbed your legs instead, hauling them over his shoulder. “J-Johnny?” Before he said anything he held the meat of your calves and said “Try and be quiet.” With that it was he started pounding into your pussy, practically holding you in half.
Your hands struggled to reach for any of him so you resorted to holding onto the back of the front seat next to you, while your other held your mouth shut. Your eyes closed themselves as he thrusted in and out of you vigorously. The sounds of his hips slamming into the back of your thighs was undeniably quite loud but you were sure the sounds of just straight moans would be more concerning for anyone that could hear.
He smirked and laughed again, “I bet Leland couldn’t fold you over and fuck the livin’ hell out of ya like I do. Fuckin’ bastard tryin’ to take ya away from me— I’ll kill the motherfucker.” Your mind was too fucked to even recognize what he had just said, “L-Leland?” You asked trying to make out what he did say. He shook his head, “I don’t want his fucking name in your mouth again.” He slowed down for a moment, spreading your legs apart and trying to pump himself as deep as possible into you. “I don’t want Leland around ever again.” He said, his hand cupping your face and kissing you. A thin layer of sweat formed on your chest, pieces of your baby hairs stuck to the sides of your forehead and so did his.
“Babygirl,” He panted out, letting go of your lips, “I-I…” He paused putting his head into your neck, still doing deep thrust. Your legs began to try and close themselves on him but he immediately harshly grabbed them again, “Try and close your legs one more fuckin’ time and you wont be able to close em’ again.” He said panting, speeding up again, “Wan’ ta’ close your legs, eh?”
“J-Johnny.” You whispered, your eyes tearing up from the overstimulation. Your head rolling back again and your body tensing. Your throat couldn’t hold back anymore, you let out a strangled moan but started apologizing in a panic. He thrusted harshly, “The [thrust] door [thrust] is [thrust] closed, baby.” He groaned, and this was your cue that you could be almost as loud as you wanted to be now.
You nod your head and sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck, and shifting your weight onto his lap. You look out the window trying to gather up your thoughts, and you see outside that it’s night already. ‘How long have we been in this car?’ you thought. Your thoughts were cut off when his hands held onto his waist helping you grind your pussy down onto his cock but one of his hands began to explore. He dragged his hand from your waist, to your chest, collarbone, the side of your neck and wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing. Your body jerked slightly and you shuttered under his grasp, he could feel your walls pulsing around him tightly.
“Yeah? Yeah— you like that, don’t chu’?” He said laughing lowly to himself, “You like it when I’m rough with ya’?” He thrusted up slightly into as much as he could and he watched your mouth open in pleasure.
“Please. Please— I…” You trail off letting out a strained moan when he tightened his grip slightly on your neck. He didn’t need to know what you were saying, all he had to know was that you were enjoying every moment of this.
“Hold on, darlin’.” He said letting go of your poor pleading body and shifts himself to lay down and you on top. He bends his knees and plants his feet down on the leather seat and the other on the car floor, he gripped your hips and helped you gain a pace. You quickly try and gain any grip you had left to hold yourself up, you end up putting your hands on the car door to do so.
You begin to move up and down his dick, feeling his large hand hold your ass cheek whilst the other plays with your nipple, pinching and rolling it. You let out a loud moan, feeling waves of pleasure crash inside of you. "Look at chu’, princess, you are doin’ so well f’me.” He praises, slapping your ass cheek and jigglying the fat. You clench around him, letting out a guttural moan, closing your eyes enjoying the feeling of bouncing on his cock. He thrust his hips upwards, matching your pace but you weren’t match though, and it was frustrating him, “God fuckin’ damn, baby.” He growled. He grabbed both of your hips and roughly started pounding up into you. You gasp loudly trying to hold yourself up but it was becoming increasingly harder. The sound of his thighs clapping against your ass cheeks sounded erotic and unfamiliar but you were living for it. Your hand reaches up trying to hold yourself up with the window, barely realizing it was steamed up and foggy. You went back to gripping the door instead. He continued to pound into you but it started to falter, “F-Fuck… I’m about to fuckin’ cum, doll…” He stopped entirely and looked up at you.
“Y-You doin’ okay?” He asked laughing when you were grinding down onto him still. He smiled finally connecting that you were close. “Keep goin’, keep it goin’ f’me.” His hand drifted again to your throat and squeezed while his other hand went to your clit, rubbing quick circles. Your mouth opened again in a silent scream and your head tossed itself back. Your body began to shake. “Agh!” You yelled suddenly. Your hands land on his chest as your body started twitching and he could feel your pussy violently pulsing around him. It was too much for Johnny.
He started fucking up into again, relentlessly and your eyes widen because of the overwhelming amount of stimulation, “J-Johnny!” You said, your hands balling themselves into fists and your head dipping into his neck, “Ahh!” You moan when his hand slapped your ass harshly once again.
“Darlin~” He said, moaning low under his breath, his hips shuttering and grabbing your hips to slowly grind yourself onto him. You couldn’t move anymore and he was holding you like a ragdoll. He lifted your hips again, and pulled out. Cum dripped down his cock and out of your pussy, flowing down his inner thigh. He softly let go of your body and your sweaty chest laid against his. The sounds of pants was the only sound in the car now. Your body raised up and down in combination between you and him trying to catch your breaths.
His arms wrapped around you waist and kissed the side of your forehead. “So,” He started off, “Do you love me?”
The question caught you so off guard but with everything that just happened, the answer was clear as day, “Y-Yes.” You stuttered, shaking to try and look at him. He gave you a soft smile and kissed your jawline.
He said. He chuckled to himself, “At this point, I love you too.” He said quietly, looking up at your fragile figure. “Just don’t break my trust.” He said seriously, “I mean it.” He repeated.
You nod your head, “I won’t.” You lay back down against him and really began to think. His sudden outburst on you over getting a little too loud. What would he have done if you didn’t back petal your lil’ rebellion to him saying horrible things about your dear friend? Then you remembered what he said while literally pounding you, that he would kill Leland if he got in the way…You were starting to remember.
“Is that about Leland?” You asked, regrettably, hoping he didn’t hear you— but he did.
He gripped your hair and pulled your head to look at him, “What the hell did I tell you about saying his name? I don’t wan’ his name in your god damn mouth— only mine.” He said, his eyes glaring. He let go and kissed the side of your forehead again.
Your heart began pounding. You’ll have to be his ride or die to protect Leland but… you love Johnny too. Maybe being with the rumored bad man is going to be harder than you thought. Maybe you should have listened to Leland, ‘but Johnny would never hurt me, right?’
notes: i was listening to mitski at work and was gifted with the vision that is this short fic. i feel like i never see people explore how pathetic a relationship (that term is used loosely) with johnny would be. wrote this while at work so it might not be the best but i still wanted to post it!
lmk yall's thoughts! :)
cw: 18+ content MDNI, stockholm syndrome, brief sexual content (nothing too nasty), bloodplay (sorta?), praise, hair pulling, canon typical violence (vaguely mentioned), angst!, no happy ending
word count: 1.4k
the blood of another woman was smeared across your collarbone as he placed tender kisses along your skin. these were the only times he was ever gentle with you. he breathed life into you after cutting some unsuspecting girl’s short.
at first the thought made you ill. the way he sought your affection (validation?) after a kill. it took you witnessing a few screaming matches between him and his other family members for the pieces to fall into place. the only time you had ever heard them sing his praises was when he brought home another body to be shoved unceremoniously into the cold room freezer. johnny had mentioned his past to you only once.
it had happened after a particularly ugly argument with his mother. nancy had made her usual remarks about wanting you dead.
“what do you think you’re gonna do with that girl? run off and marry her? you think she loves you? she doesn’t and she never will! put her out of her misery!” she screamed. “all you need is yer mama. blood runs thicker than water, boy. remember that.”
that was the only time you had watched him retreat with his tail between his legs. he sought out a bottle of whiskey he kept tucked away between the cushions of the peeling leather couch in his shack. the shack you had accidentally began to think of as home. he took two big swigs and leaned back against the cushion.
“ya know …i hate her. i wish she was dead. every day i wake up and hope i would finally be rid of her.”
whenever he would get like this, you knew it wasn’t an invitation to speak. you were a diary of sorts. one he didn’t need to know how to read or write to maintain.
“sometimes i wonder what my real mama was like. what she looked like. the sound of her voice. what she smelled like.” he took another big swig.
that night he had snuck you into the guest room in nancy’s house and fucked you so hard you felt sore in the morning. his hand clasped over your mouth so as to not disturb his mother in the room next door. he held you extra tight that night. perhaps afraid that in that moment you’d finally try and run again. not tonight. he wouldn’t be able to take that tonight. after a few hours of sleep he snuck you downstairs and back into his shack like you were two teenagers fooling around.
the next morning it felt like everyone stared at you a few moments longer than usual, inspecting the bruised bite marks along your neck and hickeys that decorated your chest.
when sissy called you out to the garden to help pick flowers for her powders you immediately perked up. she was the only one who spoke to you outside of ordering you around. it seemed like she needed a friend as well.
“can i ask you something? and can you promise you won’t tell johnny i asked?” you whispered, looking over your shoulder ensuring you didn’t have an audience.
“sure, dear. what’s on yer mind?” her honeyed texan accent always made you smile.
“about johnny …” you explained the conversation you overheard and johnny’s private musings (omitting the part about him wanting nancy dead).
“oh, darlin’ ya didn’t know? johnny ain’t blood. nancy adopted him when he was young.” her voice lowered. “let’s just say it weren’t no formal adoption and leave it at that.”
you nodded and thanked her for the information. after that the two of you carried on chatting about trivial things. how sissy should cut her hair, what color dress she should buy, and so on.
you were the only normal thing johnny had (as normal as this arrangement could be). now when he held your chin and forced you to look into his eyes, you saw the poor child snatched from his mama’s arms before he could even remember her face. on one occasion you let a few tears fall before you could push the thought from your mind
“why are you cryin’?” his brow furrowed in bewilderment.
“i’m sorry. i don’t know.” was all you could choke out. he used his thumb to swipe the tears away. that small, likely empty, gesture was all he could afford you as consolation. soon after, it became obvious that he was uncomfortable with the energy in the room. you watched him throw on a shirt and swipe his pack of cigarettes and lighter off the countertop. he slipped outside, letting the shack door slam shut behind him. some time passed and you followed him outside. judging by the numerous cigarette butts decorating the porch, he had spent that time chain smoking.
“can i have one?” you meekly request. sharing a cigarette with him was one of the few activities you two bonded over.
he pulled a fresh cigarette out of the pack and placed the filter between your lips. he leaned down and touched the cherry of his cigarette to the end of yours. you inhaled and let the warm feeling creep into your throat and down into your lungs.
and now here you were, hours later. one blood covered hand stationed on your right breast, playing with the sensitive bud, and the other stroking your cheek. he always dirtied your body with blood from a fresh kill as an excuse to bring you into the shower with him. he would roughly fuck you from behind into the tile walls that nancy always kept in pristine condition and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.
“good girl”
“you take me so well”
“you look so beautiful like this”
you stopped breathing. he had never called you beautiful before. such a delicate word had never fallen from his lips in reference to you. a rough tug at your hair ripped you away from the thought. he turned you to face him, making sure his cock never left its space between your legs, and kissed you roughly. your back was flush against the cool tile as he positioned your legs around his waist. the kiss was nothing short of hungry and animalistic. he sloppily fucked up into you, only breaking the kiss to take a few breaths every so often. this time when he finished, he came inside you. he loved to smear the white hot liquid against your skin as if he were marking his territory. tonight was different. you had long since learned not to try and guess what he was thinking and you didn’t dare ask any variation of “why?” it always irritated him.
he wrapped you in a towel and led you to the guest room to lay down. nancy be damned.
the moonlight illuminated his dark eyes and shone off his still wet dark hair. you ran your fingers through his hair, an intimate act that always kept him docile. you needed this moment to last as long as possible.
“yer never leaving me.” he never asked. he always commanded.
“i won’t. i promise.” you reassured him, just like any other time.
no matter how hard you tried, you would never fix him. the damage nancy had done was irreparable. all the love in the world couldn’t excuse his actions. even though you tried to silence the thoughts, your heart was too soft. as sick as it is, you love him.
but, he would never love you. he couldn’t. he needs you in a way he doesn’t quite understand, but it was nowhere near the love you felt for him. he’s gone the last twenty something years without tapping into that emotion. why would he start with you?
you often imagined a life away from nancy. a life where he was never corrupted by her evil. maybe you two would meet at the counter in a diner. he would ask about your university of texas sweatshirt and you would happily tell him about your studies. he would scrawl down his phone number on a napkin and tell you to call him. you would date until you graduated college and run off to get married. coastal california always sounded nice to you.
anywhere but newt, texas. anywhere but here.
maybe in that life he’d say “i love you”.
until you learn how to rewind time, you’d continue to bet on the losing dog that is johnny slaughter.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: ❗️SMUT❗️dub/non-con, (DO NOT READ THIS IF THAT IS A TRIGGER FOR YOU) ❕MDNI❕Use of degradation & praise, (mostly degradation) mentions of violence, alcohol use, kidnapping, canon!Johnny, implied cannibalism, biting, blood & knife play, forced thigh riding + oral (m receiving)
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Stopping at a bar in a rural part of Texas proves to be more than a couple shots with a stranger when you find yourself fighting for your life in the front seat of a worn out pickup truck. But fortunately for you, he’s got a knack for the ones who fight back. And fortunately for him, he knows how to wine ‘em and dine ‘em. In more ways than one.
☽✞☾
The Texas air is humid and dry in your nose as it whips through the driver side and passenger window rustling your hair. It’s about 6:00 PM and the sun is starting to set in the distance, the sky painted with orange and yellow hues. You breathe in deeply and sigh, it feels like you’ve been driving for hours and truthfully you have. Your ass is numb, throat is dry, and your eyes are watering from the restless night you’d had right before tearing out of bed and onto the road. Tired is an understatement but you catch an old wooden sign on the side of the road a couple feet in front of you at the corner of your eye, “Newt, population 3,000.”
“Fuck yeah.” You perk up and tap your fingers against the steering wheel happily as you drive down a narrow blacktop road. A gas station to your left, grocery store to your right, and a couple houses in between. It’s pretty rundown. Everywhere you look there seems to be something withering away. And just as you ponder that that’s all there was to this archaic town you come upon this decent sized, surprisingly sturdy looking building with the words 𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙮𝙩𝙤𝙣'𝙨 𝙏𝙚𝙭𝙖𝙣 𝙏𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙣 printed above it.
“A bar?” You chew the skin on the inside of your cheek and sit idly. It’s a bit oddly placed, off putting, maybe even a little uncanny from the outside but nonetheless a spot to rest. A spot to let loose and relax like most. So you pull in, park, and hop out of the driver seat onto the pavement. The ache in your lower back starting to fade as you strut your way past different vehicles that are scattered about the parking lot. Many of them rusted and chipping away.
The familiar chime of a bell rings above your head as you push the door open. You’re met with smoke sitting stagnant and smoldering in the dim lighting. The smell of whiskey and cigarettes mixing with the musk of the multiple men and women standing around with drinks in hand chatting amongst themselves. You walk hastily up towards the bar, taking a stool beside a woman that’s obviously drunk slurring to someone stood beside her. You chuckle to yourself, glancing at the menu that’s now slapped down in front of you. Small and black with white lettering.
“What can I do ye’ for?” A voice echoes over the chatter booming around you. You’re greeted by an old man with a greasy black comb over who stands with a hand on his hip. Sweat glistening on his brow and a discolored handkerchief sluggishly patting it away.
“Ah, I’ll just have two shots of whiskey please.” He looks unamused as you offer him a soft smile. Grabbing the whiskey off of the shelf and pouring you two separate shots. Scoffing to himself as you take them straight to the head.
You see him nod to someone to his left and then walk from behind the bar towards a booth where three rowdy men are yelling at each other. “Hey! There’ll be none of that here boys. Either take it down a notch or take it outside.” He spat. You can’t make out much. But this isn’t anything new considering you’ve had your fair share of bar hopping, so you tune it out.
A black haired woman replaces the older man and you order two more shots. By the time the first two kick in your head is already fuzzy, body is warm and your thighs are sticking to the stool under you. You can’t help but notice a man in your peripherals, he’s not moving but his hands are in his pockets and he has a boot pressed against the wall behind him. A cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, the cherry burning bright reflecting his dark features.
“Would’ya like anything else ma’am?” The bartender asked flatly, leaning in close enough for you to hear her. You sit up straight and swallow before responding. “Yeah actually, I would like-“ What the fuck?
“She’ll have two more shots a’ rye. Make that four if ya’ would. Thanks doll.” Your breath hitches when you’re cut off, eyes darting over to meet the man who you’d noticed earlier now sitting next to you. “Names Johnny”, he drawled. “You got one?” He leered at you. Eyes half lidded and a sly smile pricking at the corner of his lips. Your cheeks heat up when you realize you’d been staring the entire time. 𝙁𝙪𝙘𝙠.
“Oh, m’sorry my names Y/N.” You shift in your seat. Embarrassment bubbling up and spilling over through the dark blush that’s crept onto your cheeks. Johnny sucks on his teeth and runs a hand through his hair impatiently. A low sigh falling from his chest when the bartender places the shots down in front of him.
“Here ya’ go. Enjoy.” She huffed as she turned to tend to the other people around you. Johnny chuckled to himself and slid two of the glasses over to you with the back of his forearm. Your jaw tightened when you turned to face him again, he’s 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 handsome. Dark hair, freckled skin, even darker eyes. A jagged scar on his cheek, arms toned and exposed, covered in more cuts and scrapes that time has healed over, some look fresher than others. Farm work maybe? Mechanic? Who knows. Who cares.
Your teeth sink into your bottom lip. Your vision hazy in your peripherals as your only focus is on him. His jawline is sharp and his lips are pursed as he throws back a shot, butterflies flailing in your stomach when a drop of whiskey slips from his mouth and he wipes it away with a hiss. “C’mon, I can’t be the only one drinkin’. Didn’t get those for nothin’.” 𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙩. Not again.
“Yeah, sorry about that”, You mumble. Picking up the tiny glass and tilting it against your lips. A lump forming tight in your esophagus when you try to speak again. “M’just a little drunk already, my tolerance is sorta low if I’m being honest.” Your movements feel delayed when you move your head too fast to glance at him.
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with gettin’ a lil tipsy now and then.” Johnny replied. “Though you don’t really look the type.” He grinned, his eyes subtly draping over your figure then back up. 𝙐𝙜𝙝. Those butterflies from earlier feel like they could snap through your rib cage any minute.
“That so?” You giggle. Taking that last shot straight back before turning to face him. Confidence slowly creeping up your throat which you’re sure is just the whiskey making its rounds as it rushes through your bloodstream.
“I may not look the type, but that’s cause I know how to hide it. I’m real good at it too.” Johnny cocks an eyebrow and sneers, his face bouncing back and forth between confusion and curiosity. “So yer’ one of them good girls gone bad.” He teased. “And here I was thinkin’ you were a sweet, innocent thing.”
“And that’s where you were mistaken sir.” You slur, leaning over the bar slightly. Your back arched and your head now laid across your arms, looking at Johnny through heavy lashes. The alcohol has you feeling like you could fuck this man in the back of your car. It also has you feeling like you could be making a big mistake doing so, but what’s life without one or two and you can't exactly tell the difference right now.
Johnny clears his throat as his eyes instinctively carve out the dip in your back. His jaw tightening and his teeth grinding together. You’re a feisty one. He likes that, he likes that a lot. But what he likes even more is that he can smell you, almost 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 you with the way you’re looking at him. Your plump lips curved into a drunken smile and your eyes practically begging him to indulge. He swears he can hear your heart pounding, your blood pumping through your veins and it makes his cock strain against his zipper. But what makes it so enticing is that you have no idea what he really wants, what he 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙨 from you.
“So”, Johnny leans in close. Close enough for you to smell his cologne and the cigarettes that stain his breath. “Ya’ wanna get out of here?” He whispered. His voice honeyed and hoarse, sending shivers down your spine. Your heart is thrumming in your ears. You don’t know him, you’ve only been here a day and this isn’t even where you’re going to be staying.
“I- uh”, You stutter, picking your head up glancing around anxiously. What do you do? You’ve already flirted. He seems to have a good head on his shoulders, a little weird maybe, but you’re both drunk. “I actually need to get going soon, I’m supposed to be on my way to a relatives.” Johnny chuckled in response.
“No need to be shy now honey. I’ll take good care o’ ya’.” Johnny licked his lips and breathed heavily, hot breath fanning over the side of your face. “What happened to that fire in ya’ darlin’? Did I snuff it out, or are ya’ scared that I’ll prove ya’ right.” You swallow harshly. Panic starting to settle in where those butterflies were.
“No- I just need to go”, You stammer. Sucking in a breath to steady yourself as you stand up from your seat, watching Johnny’s face turn.. Cold. The air around you now suffocating, your lungs starving for oxygen as you study the way his entire demeanor changed in an instant.
“It was nice to meet you truly. Thank you for the drinks. You’re more than welcome to walk me out if you’d like.” You added with a nervous smile. Johnny sat there unmoving. Eerily still like he was stuck in place, you grimace at the sick feeling that churns in your stomach when you offer him an uneasy hand. His eyes could burn holes into yours, staring blankly back at you. Had your words fell upon deaf ears?
“Of course. Would be rude o’ me not to walk ya’ out after gettin’ ya’ all flustered. My apologies.” You stumble slightly when he abruptly shoots upwards, his gloved hand held out to you. You take it with a nod of your head and he smiles. His hand holding yours ever so gently you almost feel bad as you walk hesitantly towards the door. Maybe the alcohol is clouding your judgement. But better safe than sorry.
The bell chimes above you and you’re sucked into the dark that’s swallowed daylight whole. The parking lot is emptier than what it was when you got here, when you look farther out there’s nothing for miles other than this broken little town. It feels lonely, like the ground itself craves liveliness and it's hanging on by a thread. Or a noose, whichever one is wearing thin.
You breathe in the crisp night air and let out an exasperated sigh at how good it smells but how heavy your body feels on top of your sore feet. You'll be glad to get some rest at the nearest Hotel you can find. Johnny drops your hand as you stagger up to your vehicle, letting his back slump against the passenger side door as you stand idly beside him. Admiring him once more.
“Well-“, You said softly. “Thank you. I had a good time.” Johnny flashes a smirk, that grin alone giving you butterflies all over again. But something strange seems to lurk behind his charming alliciency. Something watching, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself. “No problem doll. Ya’ shoulda took me up on that offer, woulda had plenty more fun.” He teased. Winking at you like some high schooler.
You giggle, arms crossing over your stomach. "Maybe we could do this again sometime if I'm ever back up this way." You added drunkenly. Johnny's shoulders dropped with a huff as he pushed himself off of your car. Pausing for a moment as if waiting for you to react to such a bitchy cue that he's disappointed.
You tuck your hair behind your ear. Looking up at the stars before glancing back at him. “I better get going. It’s already late and I’ve got a long drive ahead of me.” Johnny rolled his eyes, earning a scowl from you that you tried to mask but failed miserably. “Nice meeting you.”
You walk to the opposite side of the car and open the driver side door hopping in. Reaching for the key you turn it over but it doesn’t start. The engine rattles to life then sputters out completely. That’s when you realize something is wrong. AGAIN. Good, great. Love that.
“Somethin’ a matter?” Johnny mocked, a shit eating grin spread across his face. You groan, can’t have a moments peace even after drinking to ease the stress of it all. “Goddamn it, why me.” You grumble. Hands smacking the steering wheel, frustration evident as Johnny saunters over tapping on your hood.
“Pop it. Let me take a look.” He offered and you don’t hesitate. Maybe he’ll be able to figure out what’s causing the old shit box to fuck up now. He hollers from under the hood and you lean your head against the wheel praying to whomever may be listening that it’s nothing more than a dead battery or a loose wire.
“So I’ve got bad news. Looks like ya’ won’t be goin’ nowhere soon, ‘specially not tomorrow unless ye’ wanna blow up on the way there.” You chuckle loudly, sarcasm lacing your words together as Johnny closes your hood and pats some grease off of his gloves and onto his jeans. “Could take my chances and see how long it takes for it to catch fire.”
Johnny glanced behind him and his jaw tightens when he faces you again. “Or ye’ could wait it out and I could have my old man fix it for ya’ sometime in the afternoon. Get ya’ back on the road in no time.” That’s the last thing you wanted, last thing you needed to do. Your family will be pissed if you don’t make it before sunrise. You can hear them now.
“Any chance you know what you’re doing and could temporarily fix it? Good enough to get me out of Texas?” Johnny groaned loudly, his dark eyes meet yours and chills climb up your spine. He tsks as he stalks over. Now towering above your body with his arm stretched over the length of the car door, staring down at you without a word. It’s silent between you other than the crickets and frogs chirping away in the distance. Something feels 𝙤𝙛𝙛. “..Johnny?”
“Was hopin' you'da changed yer' mind by now. But I shoulda' known ya wouldn’t put out that easy.” You sit frozen as he inched closer, not grasping what he’d just said. But the fog in your brain clears when he lunges at you like a rabid dog. “Yer’ Mama ever tell ya’ not to talk too strangers!?” He hissed through gritted teeth. His voice now raucous and ringing in your ears when you're met with his hands wrapped around your throat. You gnash your teeth.
“I- Please, fuc-“ Spit sputters out of your mouth and your eyes pop open wide, your fingers instinctively clawing at his wrists. He’s going to kill you right here is what you tell yourself over and over, but you know better than that. And with what you suspects to come you wish he would but you know that’ll never happen.
“Yer’ gonna be real pretty to look at’. ‘Specially when I’ve got ya’ strung up in my cold room cracked open and bloody.” Johnny's pupils blow wide at the doe like look in your eyes, the fear and the realization that pings through you as his hand closes tighter around your windpipe.
𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙙𝙖𝙢𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩. Johnny yearns to see just how far you can go. How long you can last when his knife is plunged deep and your blood spills. How could he resist when that image burns bright in the back of his mind? You fell right for him just like he knew you would. Like they all do. That’s okay. He likes ‘em stupid. But there’s something about the way you continue to fight him when you 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 it’s no use that ignites that disgusting fire within him.
A wicked grin stretches his lips thin and a groan rumbles in the back of his throat when your fists pound helplessly at his chest. “Fuckin’ stupid bitch, what’dya think this was?” You try and breathe between broken sobs, digging your nails into his skin as hard as you can. Punching, scratching, kicking. He doesn’t budge.
“Seems I oughta teach ya' a lesson or two about what it means to be a woman round' these parts darlin'." He snarled. Teeth bared, nostrils flaring as one of his hands tears at your scalp. You yelp like a kicked puppy, your hair sitting tucked tightly between his nimble fingers, the force stinging like a 1,000 tiny bees. You can feel every strand beneath his grasp breaking and pulling away at the follicle.
Your eyes well with tears when you’re violently yanked from the front seat and thrown to the cold ground. It swipes the air right out of your lungs when your back pummels the dirt. Your face twisting along with your limbs. Pain radiating from the fresh scrapes and scratches that scatter along your spine. “Shut up!”
His other hand quickly clasps your mouth shut denying you of the breath you so desperately need to take. Shirt riding all the way up and the back of your thighs continuing to scrape along the asphalt as he jerks and drags you by your hair to what you assume is his vehicle.
You flail your legs in a hopes to throw him off balance, but all you do is fuck up your knee in the process when he rips you upwards and hip tosses you into the backseat of a pickup truck.
“Johnny please- Please don’t do this!” You squeal. Digging your elbows into the old tattered seat, trying to pull yourself away from him when he starts to crawl over you. 𝙉𝙤, 𝙣𝙤 𝙣𝙤 𝙣𝙤. You panic, what do you do?! Where do you go? No one will hear you, no one can.
You struggle to gather yourself mentally, your internal conscience screaming for you to do something, anything. And that’s when fight or flight rips what remaining nerves you have left to shreds and your whole body begins to tremble. That adrenaline that'd been lying dormant sending your hurt knee straight to his groin when his legs threaten to lock yours in place. “Fuck you, you sick fuck!”
“Yeah! Augh that’s it-“ He winced and you paused, watching his brows knit together and his head drop down with a grunt, picking it up slowly, jaw cocked open as he breathed in deep through his nose. “Hit me.” He rasped. Wearing a smile so vile it makes you want to vomit.
Acid burns the back of your throat when your head slumps against the inside of the door. That adrenaline you had flickering in and out as you ponder on what your family will think when you don’t show up. When you never give them a call. You wish you would’ve spoke to them sooner, or talked to them a little longer when you had the chance. Tears fall down your cheeks and your heart breaks as you stare back at what you deem the Devil himself.
You suck in a deep breath, shoulders rising as you prepare to scream with all your lungs can muster, but your mouth is quickly met with four gloved fingers pushing deep into the back of your throat. Eliciting a loud gag from you. The taste of old leather and grime sitting sour on your tongue, you shake your head and bite down hard against his knuckles. He snorts and his tongue darts out like a serpent snaking across his bottom lip. “Get the fuck off of me!”
“You were right about one thing, ain’t nothin’ innocent ‘bout this mouth o’ yours.” He jested, pulling his saliva coated digits out of your mouth, smearing them down your face with a smirk. You cough in response, the slight tickle in the back of your throat and his weight now baring down on top of you leaving you breathless. Brainless, almost incoherent.
“Fuck you.” You utter, moving your hand to smack that smug look right off his face but it’s stilled. You groan in protest when you notice he’s got your wrists pinned above your head with one hand. The other one God knows where and you glance around for anything you could possibly use to subdue him. Even a little.
Johnny leans down, his face just inches above yours. “And here I was thinkin’ you’d be just like all the others”, he whispered musing himself as he watched your facial expressions crinkle up and change ever so often. “Cryin’, beggin’ for yer’ life but no.” You swallow hard. Anger and fear fusing together in the pit of your stomach as he slowly starts to pick you apart, poking and prodding at your psyche.
His words squeeze their way into your frontal lobe and wedge themselves between your legs as his other hand traces along your abdomen, his fingers curling into the thin flesh between your ribs making you hiss and squirm beneath him. “Here ya’ are.. Barely makin’ a fuckin’ peep waitin’ to see what I’ll do next. It’s almost like ya’ wanna see, and I gotta hand it to ya’ sweetheart. You’ve done a lot more than pique my interest.” He paused, brushing stray hair out of your face, tilting his head to the side as if to admire you. And briefly he was, but his focus was on the way you smelled. The way he can imagine a sea of cherry flavored waves crashing through your body and how sweet it’ll be when it spills and splashes onto his tongue.
You blink away tears, lower lip quivering as he nudges your jawline with his nose. Sending chills down your spine when he nuzzles into your pulse point. “Goddamn, you smell s’good. Bet you’ll taste even better on the inside.” He muttered and a surge of adrenaline ripped through you once more. He’s not going to kill you, he’s going to 𝙚𝙖𝙩 you. He’s the widow, you’re the fly. He’ll suck you dry from the inside till you’re nothing more than a hollowed out shell of who you once were. 𝙀𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙮.
“What- What do you- FUUCKKK?! Oh my GOD!” You cry out in agony, white hot lightning searing through your skin just above your hipbone. Your teeth bare down so hard they could break. “That’s it, lemme hear ya’ scream for me.” Johnny growled, that gnawing need to use you growing stronger with each thrash of your hips under him. You were 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙙.
And that’s when you realize you’d been cut. You never seen the blade but you knew nothing else would slice that quick and clean. Blood trickles down the dip in your waist. Wet and warm soaking into the seat as your head swims and your body writhes in pain. Johnny’s hand releases the hold on your wrists and grabs your jaw, pushing your lips into a pout as he moves your face side to side. His fingers digging into the fat of your cheeks roughly.
“What’sa matter huh?” He asked knowing the answer, its never changed. You stare at him blankly. “Cat got yer’ tongue?” No response. Okay. We’ll see ‘bout that.
Johnny brings his hunting knife into view. The glint of the blade now evident as the streetlight reflects off of the cold, bloodied, steel. You silently seethe with rage and he raises his eyebrows, pulling your face closer to his by the pinch of your cheeks. “Mm, there ya are. I knew ya were still in there somewhere.”
Your eyes burn and your heart pounds so hard you feel it in your temples. Pulsing along to the beat. 𝙏𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙥, 𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙥, 𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙥. The air around you both thick like cement and the fire that’s flickering alive between your legs has you reeling with shame. Looking up at him with pleading eyes, unable to understand what you truly want when it doesn’t even matter.
“Yer’ lookin’ at me like you want a kiss baby doll”, Johnny husked. Low and rumbly, purring like a Tom cat but you knew his claws were bound to dig in deep and never let go. Your jaw coils up tight and you raise your head just slightly, nose to nose with him. “Fuck you.” You hiss between gritted teeth. 𝙋𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘.
“You poor, sweet, thing.” He said with mock astonishment, bringing the tip of his blade to your bottom lip burying it against the plumpness of it with a chuckle. “Yer’ gonna break like fuckin’ glass when I’m done with ya’.”
Didn’t take much for the sharpness of it to break skin and your body jolted at the temporary sting, blood slowly trickling down your chin. Johnny groaned at the sight, his mouth opening and his smooth tongue lapping up the crimson stream sickly. Not wasting anytime attacking your lips in a hungry kiss you did not reciprocate. You grimaced and pressed your lips into a harsh line but he nipped at the already broken skin and your mouth opened up with a whine. His tongue lathing yours with the taste of copper and tobacco.
Something within you gives and he takes. Your hand snakes into his hair, gliding through the greasiness of it. Meeting the starving pace of his lips against yours, surprise etching his features when he pulls away to laugh at you. “Oh honey, yer’ achin’ for it. I knew ya would.”
Johnny yanks you up by the collar of your shirt and swiftly switches his position pulling you onto his lap. Your thighs straddle him and his lips crash to yours once more, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, letting them lay atop his shoulders. Rough hands grab at your hips, and you moan into his mouth. His cock hard in his jeans underneath you. The friction of it burning hot against your cunt you can’t help but roll your hips, chasing that little bit of pleasure that’s so close your head spins.
“Don’t even think about it.” He growled, stilling your desperate movements, the pads of his thumbs digging deep into your soft skin. You shudder when you feel the blunt end of his blade now pressed to your sternum. “I’ll bleed ya fuckin’ dry ya try that again, understand?”
You nod your head and Johnny’s cock twitches at the submission. “Good girl.” He spoke like velvet lined his vocal cords and you mewl when his lips attach to your throat with teeth and tongue. He knows he’s got you right where he wants you. The warmth, the salty sweet taste of you, and the carnal need to plunge the thick steel of his hunting knife into your abdomen makes him pant like a dog.
One of his hands wanders farther down, kneading and grabbing the fat of your ass by the handfuls as the other moves you slightly, your slick core pressing against the top of his thigh now. You’re sure the wetness that’s pooled out of you is soaking through. “You wanna feel good?” He droned, looking at you with a predatory gaze that could rip you apart without a single touch to your skin.
“Yes, yeah I do.” You mumble, the tone in your voice half hearted and shaky. You’re just as deranged as he is. “Please make me feel good.”
“Look at that. Leakin’ through yer’ panties like a little slut. Gettin’ off at the thought of what I’ma do to ya, knowin’ it won’t end in your favor.” Johnny sighed. His breath hot and heavy.
“I’ma bad man Y/N, a real bad man. But you don’t care, ye’ hardly mind as long as that greedy cunt between yer’ legs is satisfied.” His eyes were like obsidian, black and blood thirsty. Yours were glassy from the tears that hadn’t failed to stream mercilessly down your face, stained black as your mascara smears. Looking down at him with your brows knitted together, mind battered and breaking at how much your cunt aches for him. “Johnny, please?” 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚.
“Go on then”, he spoke softly. “Ride my thigh.” Your mouth twitches and your thoughts haze, disassociation settling in briefly. “I said”, Johnny huffed, growing more impatient by the second as you sat there. His hand met your cheek with a loud slap, the skin there turning blood red, making your voice break out into a sob. “Rub yer’ fuckin’ cunt on my thigh, or I’ll leave yer’ pretty lil body layin’ on the side of the road like a slab of rancid meat.”
Your eyes well with tears once more, trying to find the words to say, barely grasping a thought in your head but the opportunity is ripped from you with another hard slap to your face. “Please I’m sorry!” You whine, saliva tinged red sitting metallic on your tongue. He scoffs and before you have time to process your pussy is now flush against his jean clad thigh, grinding your hips back and forth the length of it.
“Gotta do everythin’ my fuckin’ self huh?” He sneered, canines bared with a cocky smirk. His thumbs digging deep into your hips, earning a soft moan from your swollen lips as he slightly bounces his knee underneath you. “What was that darlin’? Can’t quite hear ya.” Johnny cooed. His nose tracing your jawline, a pleased hum rumbling in his chest when you buck your hips.
“Feels good.” You sigh breathlessly, eyes rolling back as you start to work with the push and pull of his strong hands. Rocking yourself at a steady pace, fingernails leaving indents into his scarred skin. Memories he won’t forget. Memories 𝙮𝙤𝙪 won’t forget.
“That’s right. I can feel ya soakin’ through now, dirty fuckin’ girl. Nasty.” His voice is like an old Country song playing on the radio, begging you to sing along. Southern twang making your heart flutter and cheeks flush. Mama always said Christian girls should only listen to the word of our God. But the only thing you can hear right now is the ringing in your ears as you feel yourself roaring towards your first orgasm. 𝙋𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚, 𝙤𝙝 𝙇𝙤𝙧𝙙.
“Oh fuck- Fuck!” You mewl, Johnny’s hands resting on top of your thighs now but you don’t notice. Your hips moving on their own accord. His eyes glued to your face as your jaw falls slack and your lungs give with such a pretty, pathetic, noise that he almost feels sorry for you. Like a bunny caught by the tail.
“Oh sweet girl, yer’ just as sick as I am.” He rasped, cocking his head up, licking a Hell kissed stripe up your chin to your sensitive lips. Making you whine in protest when he pushed you off his lap, his arms now draping over the back of the seat. Lazily opening his legs, clicking his tongue with a chuckle. “Your turn.” He gestured with his hand, pointing to his rock hard cock painfully restricted to his leg.
The silence between you is mind numbing, your body swarms with guilt and utter disgust blooms deep in your guts. How could you let such a depraved man use you like this? You’re going to die, your family will 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 see you again. Your eyes shift from him to his zipper, swallowing harshly you close your eyes and move to your knees. They dig uncomfortably into the old itchy fabric of the seat.
“Get ta’ work doll. Ain’t got all night.” You wince with the reality of what happens next, an immobilizing weight hanging around your neck. You’d rather eat shit than get this man off.
But to your surprise he gently pushes his gloved fingers through your hair, massaging part of your scalp as he got to work on his zipper with the other. His cock springing free, smacking against his abdomen and you sigh at the sight. It’s 𝙗𝙞𝙜. Thick, about 7 inches. Slightly curved. You squirm anxiously, inching towards him with your back arched. Face down ass up.
“I said- Ah, fuuuckkk.” Johnny groaned pornographically, head tipping back eyes fluttering shut when your small hand wrapped around the base. Carefully angling your lips right above his aching cock, letting a wad of saliva pool out of your mouth and onto his slit. Watching as it slowly drips down the fat of it, glistening in the street light shining through the windshield. You’re too far gone to stop now.
“That’s it, put it in yer’ mouth- 𝙁𝙪𝙘𝙠 yeah, just like that.” His bottom lip curls under his teeth when your hand glides down and twists back up just beneath the tip, using your thumb to rub at the underside of it as your plump lips wrap around what’s left to fit in your mouth. Making his hips buck and his grip tighten in your hair. A guttural growl rumbles in his chest when you take him deeper in without warning. Bobbing your head up and down aggravatingly slow.
“Gotta do better than that sweetheart.” You whine around him and gag simultaneously. His fist pounds against the back of his hand that’s clamped into your hair like a vice. Forcing the last inch of him to slam into the back of your throat hard. Your lips now sitting sloppy against his balls, nose pressed into the thick thatch of hair at the base of his cock. The smell of musk and spit heavy in your nostrils.
Johnny scrapes his fingers through your tangled locks and massages your scalp, holding you there with his head thrown back, breath rugged and chest heaving. He smirks to himself when your nails dig into the fabric of his jeans, your throat tightening around him with gag after gag. Tears stream down your face, vision blurry and hazing at the lack of oxygen. “Whores don’t need ta’ breathe, do they?”
Your eyes roll and your cunt squeezes around nothing. Drooling uncontrollably with the tip of his cock shoved harshly against the back of your throat, his pre cum leaking sickeningly sweet at the back of your tongue. He isn’t going to last much longer and though part of your mind is waiting for it to be over, the other part is yearning for more. For a release you’ll never get.
“Fuck”, he hissed. Your lungs threatening to give out till his hips buck and you’re granted one short breath, but it’s ripped right back out of you when he pistons his hips up. Fucking your throat so hard that it hurts. “That’s right bitch- Take it. M’gonna fuckin’ cum.” Johnny had to bite back a whine when you broke out into a sob, a slobbering mess all for him and he reveled in the way you struggled to swallow his length. Struggled to keep yourself together.
His balls tense and he gives a couple stuttering thrusts and that’s it. He slammed your head down once more with a loud groan and hot, thick, spurts of cum shoot down your throat. Rope after rope, making you choke and sputter. Spit and snot mingling as your nose runs and he pulls you off his cock with a wet pop. Tucking himself back into his jeans without another word. You wipe your face and sniffle, body trembling from the fear and arousal that’s clung to your nerves and between your thighs.
“Knew you’d be a good fuck.” He chucked, a nasty expression on his face. “Could tell by the way those lips curved. S’shame I didn’t get to play with that pussy, though there’ll be plenty of time for that later.” What? No.. There wouldn’t be, not in a million fucking years.
“Go to Hell!” You took your chance and shot up bolting to grab at the door handle, hand still slick with spit and surprisingly it popped open and you almost fall out. But there was no escaping this man, he knew what he wanted and what he wanted was you. If he had to track you down to the ends of the Earth he would and he’d succeed. “Not quite yet sugar.”
Johnny yanked you back by your hair and you screamed to no avail. It was muffled by a rag, his big hand holding it tightly over your mouth and nose. With each breath your eyes grew heavier and heavier, a sweet smell lingering in your nose when you finally fell victim to sleep. Johnny let your head slump back into chest before laying you down in his seat beside him, giving your ass a hard pat.
“Time ta go home, get ya settled in with the rest of the muts rottin’ down in the basement.” He tsked, pushing his gear shifter into drive before pulling out from the bar. Tires screeching down the road, white smoke billowing behind while you lie there in your drug induced slumber. Though you could faintly hear the rumble of his voice you couldn’t make out what he was saying. “I’ll make a pretty lil pup outta you darlin’. You’ll see.”
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ reader x j. slaughter ˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
ps, just wanted to write something short, not the best but I needed to get rid of my writes block sooo bad.
Summary: reader manages to get away from the man who held her captive, blindfolded, and abused for days. thinking she finally escaped hell, she comes to realize she wasn’t even close.
Contains: dark themes, kidnapping, abuse, gore, Johnnys an asshole
𓉸ྀི 𓉸ྀི 𓉸ྀི
Your jaw ached at how tightly the gag was tied, forcing your mouth to stay open, no doubt leaving a deep red marking on the sides of your face. You move your tied down wrists and ankles uncomfortably, only being able to shift them just by an inch. Your whole body ached, from the abuse, from the consistent sitting position in the chair you were bound to, from the hopelessness inside, from the lack of strength. You hung your head lowered in defeat as you stayed wondering how long you’ve been here. You haven’t been able to see anything but pure darkness for what felt like months. He never takes the blindfold off.
It wasn’t unusual for your capture to leave you alone for more than two days, starved and beaten. It was something you prefer actually, beats having to deal with his sadistic nature. It almost became some sort of routine for you. Every two to four days he would be gone, then he’d show up again, almost excited to see you. Despite not have ever looking at his face, you felt you already knew him whole. You grew to recognize his foot steps, they were heavy and paced lightly. That’s when you knew he was back, when your found peace was about to end. You recognized his touch, always gloved, never skin, leaving continuous bruises and wounds on your body. Most importantly, you recognized his voice. You’ll never forget his voice, his laugh, his mockery, his twisted praising, his mean degrading, his breathing pattern. Hell, even his scent you grew familiar with, cigarettes and death. No, you’ll never forget it. His voice and laughter echo in the your mind constantly, it bounces off the walls and follows you to your restless dreams. Aside from learning his cruel ways, the only other thing you knew of him was his name; Johnny.
It was day three of Johnnys absence. Day three of another torture of silence, aside from your own breathing and on and off cries. Your stomach rumbled in hunger as you shifted your weight uncomfortably, wishing you never went on your stupid trip. That last minute trip driven by anger and spite towards your father, who you had a pretty bad argument with just before you left. That was another thing that weighed down on you, regret. You said such awful things to him, and those were the last words your father would ever hear from you. It hurt, it really hurt. If you could, you’d apologize over and over until you couldn’t speak anymore. You figured you had until tomorrow to have time to yourself to rest and attempt to gather your thoughts. Although, he was unpredictable, so you didn’t rely too much on your own guessing games. You just preyed he’d never come back. You’d rather die at this point, your sane mind was reaching its breaking point. You were slowly losing your fighting spirt.
“I wanna go home” you whimpered to the empty room, the last little hope in you wishing someone would hear your words. Of course, there was never a response. You fell silent once more. You’ve already tried again and again to escape, thrashing around in your restraints hoping they’d get loose. They never did. You were growing tired of the mind games he’d play with you, the abuse, the inhumanity of it all. Even the small things such as feeding you. You’d feel his eyes on you as you eat what you assumed was some sort of meat. His small chuckles made you second guess yourself, forcing the food down. You didn’t want to think it was anything else besides some sort of animal.
You don’t know how much more you could endure. So, there you are once again, attempting to get out. The thought of seeing your father again and taste of freedom is enough to bring back lost determination. You thrash your wrists and ankles wildly against the rope that burns into your tender skin. You twist and pull, flexing them in different directions in hope it’ll loosen just a little. You whimper and hiss through the pain, the rope burn only seemed to get worse on your broken skin. You didn’t stop. You keep twisting, pulling, thrashing, anything you could take off to get free.
Your struggling suddenly becomes worth it as you manage to tug your left hand free, slipping and tugging it through the rope. It was a tight squeeze out, tight enough to force your hand purple for a small amount of time. That didn’t matter though, you could finally get out. Maybe he tied the rope lazily, thinking it was enough to keep you strapped down. After all, you had been trapped here for almost a month now. Either way, your escape would be a slip up on Johnnys end.
You quickly loosened the rope on your other hand, tugging your joint free from its own prison. Then finally, you take off your blindfold for the first time since you’ve been here. Your eyes adjusted quickly to the ominous, dark room you were in. The only light source was a couple lanterns that were draped on the ceiling and the little sunlight that shined down from a hole in the ceiling. It was just enough to make out the horrors of the cold room you were in. The ceiling was littered with various human body parts, from hands to feet. There were at least four corpses strung up, rotting to the bone. You hadn’t realized it until now you had become nose blind to that god awful smell of rotting. You swallowed down the vomit that crept up your throat. Then there was the ladder that led up to who knows where. You quickly started undoing the ropes around your ankles, your last step to finally find your way out of this hellhole. You massage your aching wrists and ankle before thinking about your next step.
Your legs shake as you stand, causing you to hold onto the arm of the chair for support. You keep your eyes to the floor, avoiding looking at any gruesome scene. You force yourself to stand straight as you make your way, or rather stumble, towards the door that leads out. You tug at the sliding door, attempting to use all your strength to open it. It doesn’t budge at all.
“It’s locked?” you whisper to yourself, half distraught and half confused. Why would he lock the door if you were already tied down? Either way, it’s just another obstacle for your freedom. You take a deep breath before doing a quick scan of the room. Doing your best to ignore the bodies, your eyes fall on a toolbox set on a counter. You push off the door and towards the tool box. You quietly rummage through it, finding something that could fit as a lock pick. Pulling out a skinny tool, you grip it tightly and go back towards the door. You’ve never had to lock pick something, but now wasn’t the time to just give up. You slide the tool through the keyhole and give it your best. You use the tool to apply pressure on the part that’ll unlock the door for you. It takes you a minute but you manage to unlock it. You drop the now bent up tool on the ground and slide open the door. You cringe at the loudness, hoping he wasn’t anywhere near by.
There was no mistaking it, you were in a basement. It was more of a maze if anything. You didn’t know where to go or where to start. You hold yourself for some sort of comfort as you begin to explore. Again, you avoid looking at the various dead bodies you come across. You can’t help but wonder if that’s going to end up being you. Just another lifeless corpse rotting down here. Then you wonder if Johnny did all this by himself. Surely not? This whole place was one big grave. The further you walk, the more your anxiety rises. Everything was unfamiliar and eerie. You think back to the ladder in the cold room. It seemed too easy for an escape, but you weren’t exactly getting anywhere right now. You circle back to the room that was your prison. Each step getting quicker as you approach the ladder. You wince lightly with every move as you climb up, your eyes squinting as you are met with sunlight for the first time in awhile. You could almost cry feeling the fresh breeze and the warmth of the sun blanketing your cold and bruised skin. To you, it felt like an angels kiss.
Once you’re back on your feet above ground, you find yourself in the back of somebody’s yard. It was a big property, so many areas to hide if needed. You timidly begin to move to the front of the house where you know there has to be a road. You squeeze through a small gap as a short cut to reach the side ramp that you can see from where you are. Afraid Johnny might be inside the house, you are careful not to be too obvious as you make your way up the dirt road and over the cattle grates. Paranoid, you keep glancing around for anybody that may harm you. You weren’t sure how many people lived here, but you figured they must know of Johnnys crimes. How could they not? The basement was littered with evidence.
You tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear as you admire the various sunflowers in the front yard. The front of the house was welcoming and beautiful, almost like there wasn’t any horrors behind its walls or under it. You crept closer towards the front gate that led to freedom, and to your luck it was open. You pushed the gate open and left the property without looking back once.
You were free.
A sense of relief washed over you as you began to walk faster. Part of you wanted to run, but your body wouldn’t allow it. Your legs felt too damaged to do anything other than walk. You sped walked down the road for what felt like miles, your feet sore. It had to be at least an hours now, the sun was setting and there was still not a vehicle or person in sight. You needed help badly. You needed to get to proper safety and call the police and your father.
You hugged yourself once again. The house you escaped from was long gone now, miles and miles behind you. At this point, you were in a zombie like state. You legs kept going but you felt like you weren’t really there. Your mind was else where. Maybe it was the trauma, or the self defence mechanism you gained over the month you were here, or maybe you were just tried. Either way, you weren’t keen on your surrounding enough. Not like there was anything around you for miles, you were alone and lost. Though, it was better than being tied down to that damned chair. You did your best to ignore the growing ache in your feet as you continued on. Your eyes stared at the ground in a daze. You shivered every now and then, and to think you’d be use to the cold by now.
Right now, all you could think about was your bed, your shower, your father’s embrace, the feeling of being home, your old life before your kidnapping. You squeezed your fingers tighter against your shoulders as you hazily looked forward at the gleaming light getting closer. You hadn’t realized it until now but there was a vehicle getting closer and closer from the distance just up ahead the road. It took a moment to sink in but there was indeed a vehicle approaching you, a truck is what you could make it out to be. Immediately you felt overwhelmed with emotions. There’s somebody that will help you. You could almost cry at the thought of finally getting far away from this place.
As the truck got closer, you stepped in the middle of the road so it couldn’t get around you. You waved your tired arm to signal the driver to stop. Your body shakes with anticipation as the pickup truck comes to a halt just a few feet in front of you. You can’t see the driver from where you stand, but they sure as hell could see you. The way the sun is angled is blinding your view of him, but you could vaguely make out a man’s silhouette. Without thinking, you jog up to the passenger side door and open it. You take your spot and slam the door shut. Home was so close now.
“Thank you, thank you” you repeat a couple times as you turn to your saviour, “I need to get to the police station as soon as possible. I don’t know where I am, I was taken and- and”
Your words were scrambled and fast as you tried to explain your situation without scaring the stranger off too much. At this moment you’re able to take in his appearance. The man’s got slicked back dark hair, dark eyes and a nasty scar that runs along his forehead to over his eye. Despite the scar, he was quite the looker. He’s got a cigarette loosely hanging from his lip as he studies you, nodding mindlessly to your rambling. A small smirk tugs at his lips as he begins driving the direction back to the house who had just escaped from.
“Wait…” puzzled, you shake your head desperately, “You’re going the wrong way. I can’t go back there”
It goes silent between the two of you for a minute. The bad feeling in the pit of your stomach returns as you feel the shift of speed of his driving. Then he spoke.
“You got pretty far, huh?” Johnny comments, his amusement growing as the look of horror and realization colours your face at the recognition of his voice. Your heartbeat quickens by the second as you feel your body freeze and tense. Your breathing seems to come to a stop as you can’t find the words or seem remember how to breathe. You felt your anxiety pouring over the edge as Johnny makes heavy eye contact with you. For the first time, you look straight into the dark eyes of evil and he stares into your fear struck stare. The sudden familiar smell of cigarettes and despair hit your nose, triggering your flight or flight. Everything suddenly came together. The gloves, the boots, his voice, his scent. It was him, it was Johnny.
“No…” you whimper, backing away until your back hits the door, “No…”
You reach for the handle and push the door open, falling out at a high speed. It hurt like hell, but you don’t take long to get back in your feet and run for the hills. Your body burns but you can’t go back. You can’t let him get you again. You take off the opposite direction of where he was taking you. Johnny stops the truck immediately, shifting gear and pressing his foot down on the gas, going backwards towards you just as fast. He rests his arm over the seat as he looks back to watch you run. It was pointless really, but it was both a surprise and rush to him that you still had the energy to try get away from him.
You can practically feel your heartbeat in your ears as you take off into the fields of tall grass. Johnny halts his truck, putting it in park and stepping out. He chuckles watching you make a run for it, attempting to hide from him.
“Aw…You leaving so soon?” Johnny tauntingly calls out to you, raising your anxiety. You can’t let him catch you. Surely you were dead this time. You keep pushing on until you realize you have no sense of direction, you’re completely lost.
“I’m gonna find you!” Johnnys voice calls out to you, he’s getting closer already, “I will! I promise!”
The sun was almost completely set now, leaving you without much light to see two steps in front of you. Your breathing was loud and heavy as you pushed grass out of your way. Johnnys taunting stopped and it was now eerily quiet, aside from your panicked breathes. You stopped moving and covered your mouth to avoid further detection. It seemed like time stopped completely. Johnny was being just as quiet as you. There was no way he could find you in this grass, and much less lack of light. Maybe he’d give up…you prayed he’d give up and just leave you alone.
“Hey there!” Johnnys sudden voice made you jump out of your skin. You screamed as you stumbled back, loosing your footing and landing straight on your ass. However, you moved quick, getting back in your feet and ready to take off. As much as Johnny loved the chase, the risk of another person driving by and you somehow escaping him was not something he wanted to deal with. He was quick to grab your arm and force you back to him.
“Oh, you ain’t gettin away! Im keeping you!”
“Don’t touch me! Get the fuck off of me!” You curse at him, hitting him with all the strength you have left. It must be the adrenaline, or maybe even the fear that gave you enough courage to fight back. You were so close to freedom, yet so far. Of course it had to be him driving down that road, of course you had to mindlessly get in his truck. This nightmare never seemed to end. You were desperate.
Johnny was quick to pull out his hunters knife, giving you two deep gashes as a warning. You screamed out in pain at the sudden fire stinging wounds. Johnny found an opening to sink the knife deep into you, yet he didn’t.
“Hurtin’ real bad, ain’t you sweetheart?” Johnny asks as he gets a firm hold on you, restraining you from hitting him any further. You cry, scream, anything to maybe get someone to hear you. Yet again, there’s nobody; just you and Johnny.
Johnny keeps you restrained against him until you’re done. Too tired to scream, too tired to cry, too tied to fight back. He could’ve shut you up, covered your mouth, but he thrived off it. Found your screams and cried music to his ears. He knew nobody could hear you, just as well you knew deep down inside. Any ounce of energy you had was gone. The past and present abuse on your body worn you out completely to the point where you finally slumped into his arms.
“There you go” Johnny hums, placing his knife back into his sheath, “You’ve had a long day, haven’t you, [name]?”
You didn’t reply, not that you refused to, but you couldn’t. You felt too defeated. Your only chance at escaping was gone. Instead you let your mind wander again as Johnny lifted you. You focused on the beauty of the tall grass you were in, on the fields among it. You focused on the cool night breeze and fresh air that you wouldn’t ever feel again. You focused on the arising moon way up in the sky and how pretty it looked. You wondered if your father was looking at it too.
“Damn…so close! Good try though” Johnny chuckled at your unresponsive state. He figured he broke your mind long ago, that you had no will to escape anymore and accepted the fact you were his now. Johnny knew better now, you were stronger than the others, he had more time with you. You were his favourite by far.
Something in His Eyes [ Johnny Slaughter x Reader ]
Summary: You find out the hard way why being close to Johnny was never a good idea.
A/N: I’m obsessed with the game so it was only right to write something for Johnny <3
Warnings: General Texas chainsaw massacre content, blood, mentions of killings and death
-
You had been laying on the grass, basking in the sun all afternoon when your mother called you into the house. You had lived on a farm and your nearest neighbors were the Sawyers who lived a couple miles down the road.
She had interrupted your sun bathing to send you to the grocery store for a few items that she needed for dinner. She shooed you off with the list and you took your bike with a little basket to carry the groceries.
You had to pass the Sawyer house on the way to the store, so you decided to see if they needed anything. And it was more of an excuse to see Johnny.
You had met him a few months ago during the summer, when he explained to you that there was a family emergency that required him to stay at the family house instead of with his mother Nancy.
You made it a habit to say hello to Sissy every few days. You never cared to say hello to Drayton though, as he always gave you side eyes and would sneer whenever Johnny would jog just a little faster to see you at the fence.
While you had invited Johnny to your house multiple times, he never seemed to invite you into his family’s house. It didn’t bug you as much since he never even took you up on your invites.
It wasn’t long before you made it to their house, honking the small horn on your bike to see if anyone was home to hear.
After a minute of waiting, Johnny appeared from the back of the house. He did a jog to close the distance between the two of you, especially since the driveway was so long.
He gave you a giant grin once he was close enough. “Hey there, pumpkin!”
You blushed at the nickname, but tried to hide it. “Hi, Johnny.”
“What brings you here?” He got close enough and you could see the sweat beading down his temple, and how his breathing was short and scattered. You failed to notice the bleeding knife in his pocket.
“Making a run to the grocery store. Wanted to see if you needed anything?”
“I think we’re good. Drayton is making his famous chili.” Johnny said, almost giving you a look once over but stopping himself.
“Ah, I forgot he cooks. Does he wear a little apron as well?” You joked, poking Johnny on his abs. You tried to refrain another blush from how toned he was.
He chuckled, giving you a wink. “He does, but that’ll be our little secret since he never lets anyone cook with him.”
You nodded, pretending to lock your lips and throw away the key.
“I was meaning to ask you, have you been listening to the radio? They ended up finding the car of Maria Flores! Isn’t it crazy that she just upped and disappeared?”
Johnny tensed but you didn’t seem to notice since he smooth talked his way out of it. “Yeah, real crazy, pumpkin. But they said no foul play so there’s no chance they’ll find her at this rate. She probably ran away.”
You shrugged, not entirely sure yourself. Your mother had gotten worried for your safety, but you promised her you would keep a pocket knife on you at all times and if you could, have Johnny accompany you.
“Most likely. Crazy stuff though.” You said and tried to change the topic. “I’m gonna head to the store now. See you in a bit.”
Johnny smiled and waved you off.
Once you were farther in the distance, he sighed and returned to the back of the house.
He removed his knife from his pocket and wiped it on his thigh. He was only a few feet away from the barn when Sissy exited, covered in blood.
“You know she’s gonna come looking one day, Johnny.” She sneered, leaning against the wood frame and crossing her arms. “She’ll end up just like Maria. Then you’ll really have to up and leave.”
Johnny rolled his eyes at her and stomped into the barn, making sure to shove her shoulder.
He didn’t want to think of a reality where you and his family intertwined. He imagined every scenario and none of them seemed to look good for you. You were his perfect little ray of sunshine, but he feared his heart was too far gone to let any light in.
He was worried the side of him that hurt people would eventually bleed into the side that didn’t want to hurt you. But that instinct would always be there whether he liked it or not. Especially since Nancy instilled it in him so long ago.
He touched the scar on his face, remembering that day so long ago when he finally confronted Nancy for killing his birth mother. He had been scarred by her, permanently damaged inside and out.
He always fantasized about ending Nancy once and for all, for what she did to his true mother.
Bubba was fixing his chainsaw after it had overheated multiple times without him doing anything. He gave Johnny a grunt and that was that.
Johnny looked at the table in front of him, seeing the scattered pieces of meat that they were going to bring into the house for Drayton to cook with.
He liked to think that maybe he could convince you they were actually just butchers, but the skeleton decorations might give it away.
He also feared Nancy finding out about you. Soon enough he would return home and the thought of leaving you behind scared him. What if you followed him like a lost puppy? What if you visited him as a surprise without any warning?
What if Nancy…
Johnny didn’t want to think about it anymore.
He knew what Sissy said was right. You would eventually find your way into the house like they all did.
He just hoped that maybe this time it would be different.
-
The next day, you drove your bike as usual to the Sawyer’s house. A few rings of your bike bell and Johnny was rushing to the front.
His usual happy demeanor was not present.
“Hey, Johnny.” You still gave him a smile and wave.
He did a grunt and crossed his arms. “I uh, I’m busy right now. What’s the matter?”
“Oh.” You said, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Nothing much. Just wanted to see if you were up for hanging out.” You tried to not show your hurt.
“Not right now, pumpkin. Maybe another time.” He seemed stressed, so you placed a delicate hand on his toned arm.
“Everything alright?” You asked with those innocent eyes that made him feel weak. He hated that he felt that way towards you… so weak and vulnerable, breaking at the seams, his dark demeanor, that monster screaming inside of him to end you… you made those thoughts go away… maybe that’s why Maria’s friends were still in his family’s basement, not yet dead because Johnny hesitated looking into Ana’s eyes… seeing her sister…
Was this the life he wanted to lead?
Johnny didn’t realize you were growing worried, waiting for him to answer. “Fine, pumpkin.”
His eyes didn’t sparkle like they usually did.
In the distance, you spotted something, though.
A girl with bright orange hair was in the far right of property, rummaging through a blue box in the barn. Instant worry and suspicion ran through you as you pointed to her. “Who’s that?”
Johnny whipped around instantly, his shoulders tense.
“Shit,” he muttered. “I gotta go. I’ll talk to you when it’s convenient.”
You were offended and made sure to show it. “Johnny, what’s going on?”
Before he could answer you, the orange girl had stopped her search and noticed you, standing there as innocent as ever. She began to shout much to the dismay of Johnny.
“Help me! Please! This family is torturing us!” She wept and started running towards you.
Johnny let out a low grunt and faced you. “I’m sorry, pumpkin.”
“What?” You blinked, wondering if it was some prank… it had to be.
Johnny lunged for you, grabbing you around your waist and forcefully pulling you off your bike. He tried shushing you. “Stop movin’.”
“Johnny!” You screamed, hitting his arms as he roughly dragged you towards the orange hair woman.
Once you were on the property, you noticed the metal sheet now behind you started buzzing with electricity. You were trapped like a cattle waiting for slaughter.
The orange hair girl started screaming which made you whip your head towards her. She was being brutally murdered by a man with a chainsaw.
You let out a horrific scream, slamming against Johnny with all your force. “Let me go!”
“I’m sorry it had to be this way, pumpkin.” Johnny’s voice was sincere, but as you looked up into his face, it was stone cold.
He started walking towards their house, and out strolled Sissy covered head to toe in blood.
“Oh! (Y/n) is finally joining us? Will she be for dessert tonight?” She cackled which made your eyes widen in fear.
“Not now, sissy, go deal with the rest of ‘em.”
Sissy rolled her eyes and scoffed. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for you! And now you’re bringing your plaything. Just wait til your mama gets here!” She ran off somewhere in the house, and you finally got a good look inside of it as Johnny brought in your flailing body.
“I said, stop movin’!” Johnny yelled and placed you down firmly. He held your shoulders as you began to shake in fear. “You need to listen to me, right now.”
You shook your head profusely as if it could take away all the bones surrounding you in their house. If the image of the orange haired woman being sawed alive would disappear. “Johnny, let me go!”
He kept you firm in place and stared deeply into your widened eyes. “I knew you’d see this side of me eventually… I just didn’t realize this soon. You… you don’t get a choice when it comes to this family. It’s either be eaten or become one of us.”
Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. Johnny had to be lying. Your sweet Johnny was playing a prank, surely.
He continued on, “(Y/n), you are not fit for this world. I… I can’t let you become like me…”
You were able to bring your arms up and slam them against his chest. “Johnny please!”
He slowly eased his grip on you, but he didn’t want you to escape… he had you right there… his mind was running rampant at the thoughts that consumed him.
His heart ached at the sight of your tears and how you looked at him with so much confusion and were terrified of his family.
Ached.
Johnny didn’t realize fully what he was doing until you were screaming, thrown over his shoulder once again.
He began to rush through the house, and it took your all not to throw up at the sight of a woman hooked to a wooden post.
Was this to be your fate, too?
Johnny hurriedly went out a back patio door and through a series of steps before throwing you in the back of a car. He locked it before you could reach the handle.
You screamed and slammed your palms against the windows, praying that someone would answer and rescue you.
Johnny tried not to acknowledge your pleas as he hot-wired the car. He couldn’t think this idea through, or his family would slaughter you and make him watch.
His heartbeat only intensified as he heard his mother’s voice ring out across the yard. He finished what he needed to do and slammed the hood of the car down.
Johnny got into the car quickly, ignoring your whimpering in the back seat.
You were hysterical as he drove off, taking a back exit out of the property.
The only sound in the car was your occasional sniffs as he drove for thirty minutes in the middle of nowhere. He had gone a back road that you had never seen before, but you were able to see the back of your house fly by as he paid it no mind.
He wasn’t taking you home.
You slowly composed yourself enough to speak up. “Where are you taking me?”
Fear made your stomach turn as he sharply looked at you through the mirror. Coldness glazed his eyes, and no longer could you see the man you had grown to love.
Love. What a stupid feeling.
It was the reason you were there at their house. You loved spending time with him. You were growing fonder of him.
It was the reason why Johnny was driving you far away from his family. The side of him that was weak had grown attached to you. It frightened him.
Would it one day switch on you? Would you be another of his countless victims? Was his love for you too grand that he might do something reckless.
He supposed he already had.
His decision was sinking in.
He briefly turned in his seat to look at you.
Your hair was disheveled, your mascara ran down your cheeks in an ever-fading cry, your hands were tucked around yourself, trying to keep yourself together.
You were still the innocent girl he loved.
“We’re going far away, pumpkin. A place where nobody will hurt us.”
You wanted to believe Johnny, you truly did… but there was something in his voice.
Doubt.
Because Johnny didn’t even know if he could promise that he wouldn’t hurt you.
Johnny isn’t the comforting type— not vocally at least. In the beginning, he just turned onto his back and lit up a cigarette. You didn’t blame him, you didn’t know each other fully yet of course… it was all lust before the love. If he started to like— even love you he’ll hold you while you quivered from the pounding he just gave you.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
His arms. He worked hard for them— working on cars, working out, he was a mechanic in his free time… killing people that talked to you a little too much— he needed those strong arms. They got rid of most of his problems.
He loved your hipdips. He loved rubbing them with his dirty hands under your sundress as you made sandwiches and lemonade for him after a hard day of working on your car. His rough large hand were able to grip them as your body slammed down onto his cock, giving you leverage and aid in pleasing him.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
It’s not enough to cum in you—it’s about keeping it there. He likes filling you up until it’s dripping out of you and then shoving it right back in with his fingers. His head tilts, a crooked grin pulling at his mouth as he watches you squirm.
“Look at that, sugar. Leakin’ all over the fuckin’ floor. You’re gonna keep every drop for me, yeah?”
And if you can’t? He’ll press his palm flat against your pussy, his rough fingers curling up to make sure you’re stuffed full and crying his name all over again.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He’s been in your house. Before you ever knew his name. Before he ever touched you, he knew where you kept your panties, what lotion you wore, and how you bit your lip when you read those filthy little romance novels at night. That diary? He didn’t just read it—he memorized it. That first night he had you crying under him, moaning about being choked and ruined? He wasn’t guessing. He knew every dirty fantasy you’d written down. And he plays them out exactly how you wanted—just to watch you realize you never stood a chance against him.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He is very experienced. He was… experimental in his younger age. As he got more handsome there was more girls on him like fleas. You’d assume he took advantage of this, of course.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Cowgirl. He loved the idea of knowing that even if you were on top he could still have more power over the whole situation. However, if you decided to do something you’ll regret— trying to slap that beautiful ass of his— you will have your face in a pillow and your ass being pounded. And his most favorite, doogystyle, he loves watching the way your ass and tits recoiled with the snap of his hips, the control he has over your body. the memory of his dick sliding in and out of your pussy lives in his head. he loves it even more when you push back into him— do it, you womt regret it~
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Expect no funny moments when you get Johnny in the mood. When he’s horny, everything else in the world is radio silent in his head. Even if you tried cracking a joke he’d probably wipe that smile right off your face by slapping your ass and slamming his lips onto yours. But I know you’d gladly kiss him back, won’t chu’?
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He’s fairly well kept. He cares about his looks! He doesn’t let anything get too out of hand, but he will make sure that it isn’t bare either. The bare skin freaks him out…
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Everything else seems nonexistent. His energy is so dominating and rough that your body just gives yourself to him.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He rarely masturbates, but there’s been a few times he has. Once, he sat in the corner of your bedroom at night when you didn’t even know he was there, stroking himself while you slept. He was watching you, whispering under his breath how good you’d look on your knees for him, even in those moments.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Possession. Fear. He loves that wide-eyed look you give him when you realize you’re too deep and there’s no way out. His biggest thrill is knowing you’re scared of what he’s capable of—and still, you stay. That’s real loyalty. Or maybe it’s just survival.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
He will do it anywhere. He doesn’t care if his family walks in, he doesn’t care if he fucked you in front of a dead body. As long as he can have his hands on you? He does not care.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Killing. That’s what drives him—what keeps the blood in his veins hot and his cock even harder. And when it’s over? When his hands are slick with blood, splattered up his arms, drying in streaks across his chest?
That’s when he finds you. He doesn’t even bother cleaning up. Doesn’t waste time with words. He drags you down to your knees, one blood-slicked hand tangled in your hair, the other fisting his cock already hard and throbbing.
This is his release. Your lips stretched around him, blood smearing against your cheeks where his fingers grip too tight. He killed for it. He earned it. And you? You take him down your throat like you know exactly what he’s done… and exactly why you’ll never tell him no.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
There’s bold… and then there’s stupid.
And the stranger in the diner? He was both. Eyes raking over you like he didn’t care that Johnny was sitting right there, an arm draped over the back of your chair, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your shoulder as a silent warning. But that bastard had the nerve to ignore it—leaned right over the counter with that cocky grin and said, “Hey sweetheart, a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be sittin’ with a guy like him.”
Johnny didn’t say a word. Just smiled slow and easy like a loaded gun being cocked. Later that night, the man found out exactly what that smile meant.
He was tied to a chair in Johnny’s basement, wrists bound tight, chest heaving with panic. And right there—right in front of him—Johnny had you. Bent over the workbench, dress shoved up to your waist, panties torn clean off.
“You wanted a show, didn’t ya?” Johnny growled low against your ear, his teeth grazing your skin. “Wanted to see what it’s like to really have her? You’re gonna watch, ‘cause that’s the only way you’ll ever get close.”
And the next day? That man was gone. No questions asked. No trace left. Just a sick, twisted memory burned into your mind every time Johnny pulls you close…
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
While he loves eating you out and watching you squirm beneath his tongue and feeling your thighs squeeze around his head, he enjoys getting blowjobs unshamfully more. He loves the way you would take all of him at once, and the feeling of your warm mouth all around his hard cock. He likes how your eyes teared up when placed his hand on the back of your head and slowly guiding you deeper and deeper onto his dick. The way your hair got messy while doing it made you seem like something out of the porn magazine he used to look at. Don’t even get him started on when you licked the underside of his dick while staring up at him with those pretty little eyes, he will make sure his tip kisses your cervic when he fucks you.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
This man loves it fast and rough. He just really fucking enjoys pounding into you more than anything. But, if you really impressed him and made him proud— like killing someone for the first time— his touch is as gentle as a butterfly. His lips slightly graze your skin as his rough fingers rubbed your clit in slow circles.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Loves them. He lives for way your tits looks in that milk maid dress, lives for the way you gasp and whine when his fingers go under your dress, lives for the sheer joy of how your fingers frantically grasp at his belt to fuck in the bathroom of his mothers place. God forbid if Nancy heard you too… You’d be out of the bathroom in the nick of time before Nancy notices anything.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Abso-fuckin’-lutely. He loves taking risks, it gets him going. He constantly almost gets caught killing people— he loves the thrill. Johnny will definitely take risks. The thought of being caught almost exhilarates him. Almost. But the idea of the man that tried to swipe you off your feet was the same man hearing Johnny slam his hips on your ass in bathroom? Oh~ He loves that.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He can go for a couple rounds until he finally gets tired out, and he can definitely last a while too. That’s actually very surprising because of how much he smokes. But the last round will always be him pumping him warm thick cum into your aching pussy. It gives him a strong sense of pride knowing you’re walking around with his cum in you.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Collars. He would love to put a collar around your pretty lil’ neck. Some of the leather collars hes collected has engravements of ‘Johnnys’ Property’, and ‘Johnnys’ lil’ Slut’. He loved pulling the metal chain, forcing you to sit in his lap. Tugging on the chain he manipulated your body into bouncing on his cock, when you’d cum he’d tighten the collar to overstimulate you, of course. He loved when you bounched your ass onto his length as he tugged on the chain too.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Your whole relationship is unfair, what did you expect? You don’t get to tease Johnny, if you somehow did… Sometimes he’ll go along with your teasing. He thought it was cute how you thought you were the one in control. You better hope you’ll be able to sit down due to the hand prints on your ass cheek later.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Grunts and growls echo in the shack. He loves dirty talking to you, “Like that? Like that you dirty whore? Who knew you’d be so… fuckin’— Mmh— slutty?” With how much he smokes his mental pain away, he huffs and pants more than he’d like, his lungs are slightly given out… it sounds really hot when he’s out of breath at least.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
When you drink with him? Oh, he will make out with you. He loves the taste of your tongue when you’ve drunken his favorite alcohol. He loves the way you in your drunkened state sloppy grabs at his shirt and how your tongue rolls out only for him to lick yours back up. By the time y’all jaws are weak from making out you’ve both passed out on his couch.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
His cock is fat, around 5 1/2 inches and even though he isn't abnormally big, the way he's gets balls deep into you makes it feel like he's fucking huge, pushing against your cervix at all times. The girth though, fuck, it stretches out your pussy so much, it hurts every time but when the pain subsides? You’re gripping his hair as your calves rest on the back of his ass pushing his hips closer to yours.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
His sex drive is through the roof, by the time you were pulling your panties back up after a quickie his cock was already standing tall once again. The amount of times he’s grabbed your shoulders pushing you down to your knees to fix his raging boner has been… way too many times. “What can I say? It’s your fault. Won’t chu’ fix it for me, sugar?”
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He won’t fall asleep, it’s very rare that he doesn’t. The only times he will fall asleep is if you too were drunk of your minds. He has chores to do around the property, as much as he’d love to cuddle you he has to make sure his mother doesn’t kill you because to her youre a ‘distraction’… at least you’re a pretty distraction.
A/N: if the link doesn’t work USUALLY if you sign in into twt in the link it works, just a heads up.
1
the way johnny would use your body as his own personal pussy-selve. his hands gripping your waist hard enough to leave bruises, using his strength to drag your pussy up and down his cock. his rugged couch in his shack creaking under the weight of his pounding, threatening to break under the pressure.
“Keep your noise down, don’t want Nancy and em’ hearin’ us, do we?”
2
now that you’ve grown accustom to the routine— him coming home from a ‘hunt’ and you’re done with your chores— it was time for you to please his cock. His hand wrapping around your hair and forcing you to bounce on his length, whether it hurt or not. His other hand is too busy playing with your tit as you bounced, his eyes lingering on the jiggling fat of your ass slamming on his abdomen.
“there ya go, baby girl— fuckkk— keep doin’ ya you’re doin’… if ya know that’s best for you.”
3
in the past, when he first caught you hiding in his shack while the rest of the family chased your friends, he had better plans in mind for you. After all, the way you arched and backed your ass up on his cock was well enough information to tell him you were enjoying every inch of him. his hands tugged at the rope as he pounding into you from behind. he liked how loud were moaning, too bad your friends were having a bad time…
“Heh, who know you’d be such a good slut? I’d imagine chu’ would have fought against the ropes… I’m keepin’ you~”
4
do i need to elaborate? he’s obsessed with having power over you. he already has your lipstick smeared all over his lips and cheeks from making out and grinding through your clothes on his couch… but it doesn’t stop him from pushing you down on it, half your body bouncing on the cushions and under his thighs, pinning you in place. his cock casts a shadow on your face, you stick your tongue out for him. a grin spreads across his face as his slaps his length against your tongue, stroking it against your lips…
“good girl, keep your mouth open for me, fuckin’— baby— mmm…”
5
oh… but when you finally helped kill someone with johnny? ooo, that night was different. his hands grip your ass cheeks as you lay on your stomach. that shit-eating grin lined his face, reminiscing on how you jumped in and actually killed someone that tried to hurt him… you helped. you helped provide for the family, his mother accepts you now. everything was okay now. he goes lower and his big, broad hands grip your hips pulling you close as his tongue pushes between your thighs. his tongue was relentless— he pulls back and cuddles your hips, leaving kisses along your skin.
“sweetheart, baby, i’m so lucky to have you… you’re mine…”
just thinking about how johnny would make a last minute decision to kidnap you after just meeting you in a bar. you were just too pretty for him to not try. being forced into his truck at knife point you had no choice but to go along with him— he had plans with you after all.
_______________________________________________
“ooo, i knew chu’d be a great fuckin’ cock sucker.”
in the dim light of a basement, you found yourself on your knees looking up at the man that kidnapped you— and you realized the thoughts in that bar were right: those looks of his were too good to be true. the chill from the cement floor nipping at your skin. your whines are muffled with his cock, his groans being muffled behind his bared teeth. the rough ground on your knees was agnostic, but the cock in your mouth was fucking beautiful. he pulls it out, your mouth releasing from your lips with a pop,
“please,” you plead, “just let me—“
“live? just keep suckin’ my cock like how chu’ve been doin’ and maybe…” he smirked as his yellow gloved hand caressed your chin. slowly, johnny dragged the tip of his cock against your lips, looking down at you with lust in his eyes.
before you could speak again his other hand tightens around your hair and without hesitation, johnny harshly pushed his cock into your mouth, rushing past your lips until the tip slammed against the back of your throat. the swift, sudden action made you gag, choking around the girth of his cock. your hands reached up to hold onto his thighs, gripping onto him for life as his hips pushed deep within the tight cage of your throat.
he uses your chin and hair to drag your head along his length, his knees bending to get a better angle. while gagging on his length your mascara runs down your cheeks.
“angel,” he chuckles, “you’re tearing up.”
even if your eyes were blurry and your mind was fogged, you couldn’t help but notice the arousal pooling between your legs.
“lemme see,” he trails off with no context. he leans over your body with his cock still in your mouth. your eyes widen when you suddenly felt his hand lift your dress up and he slaps your ass. you let out a muffled yelp but he continues to slap your ass, grabbing the fat while thrusting his length in your mouth. your hand comes up to push away but his other hand was still against your head. you cough on his cock and he pulls out,
“aww, couldn’t handle it, sugar?” his body retreats back up to see your sobbing face, make up ruined, and your chin covered in drool.
“p-please…” You coughed out, “anything, i’ll do anything—“
“i know, chu’ve been doin’ good…” he praised, fixing your hair, “i think i’m startin’ to like ya.”
you open your mouth again to permit him to keep going, if him getting his pleasure meant you got to leave, then you were going to do it. at least johnny wasn’t the worst looking person you’ve ever given a blowjob to... besides, he was… fuck.
he smiles at your mumbling begs and slaps his cock on your tongue. He pushes you down onto the ground, and straddles your chest. he slaps your cock on your mouth again and you open it once more. with a simple chuckle he thrusts his cock against the back of your throat again. the back of your head hits the concrete floor with a thud, you gag and your chest hiccups.
“fuckin’ your throat like a pussy, takin’ every single inch.”
just when you thought you were about to throw up from how much you’ve been gagging, johnny pulled himself from your mouth once again. air rushed into your lungs, so suddenly that you choked and gasped to stabilize yourself, hands shaking as your elbows held yourself up. however, before you could fully retract air and take control of your breathing, johnnys hands held your head up, johnny jammed his cock back in your throat again.
this repeats and repeats until he leans his body over your head and he was at his end. his balls rest against your chin as his cock fully bulged in your throat. he lets out a loud groan, his arms shaking as he held himself up. your throat filled up with his climax, and your hand comes up to grip his thigh with a strangled whimper. he exhaled as he slowly took out his cock out of your mouth and slowly standing up, still above you. your body jerks foward, you swallow all of it but cough after, turning over to grip your throat.
“damn,” he gets up, cum dropping from his tip onto your cheek, “holy shit, girl.” he huffed. he lets out a loud laugh, “i’m keepin’ you!”
“what?!” you cough out, immediately trying to get up and run in the opposite direction but johnny snatches the back your dress and slung you backward onto the floor. he drags you down the hall. you regain your balance however and get back onto your feet.
“that wasn’t the deal!” you yell, trying to grip your dress back frantically.
“sugar,” he chuckled, throwing you into a room effortlessly, “the deal was to keep you alive, not that i was gonna let chu’ go,” he corrected, he looks away as he made put his hand down his pants to readjust himself, “let’s say you pleased me a lil’ too much…” he said under his breath.
when you landed onto the floor, you couldn’t help but laugh in anger. you turn back to him, sitting on your elbows with your legs spread. your dress rode up your thighs and johnnys grin gets bigger.
“and,” his eyes darted to your spread legs, “ya seemed to really like it too.” he turns around and shuts the door, locking it.
confused by his comment, you looked between your legs, to your panties; a wet soaked patch laid upon the fabric. you instinctively close your legs and shove your dress down.
“you can’t leave me here!” you yell.
you heard a laugh rip through the basement, “i already have— for now!”
seeing you be all shy around him as he kept you captive in his shack with a rope around your neck gave him so many perverted ideas…
he finds his hand rough against the back of your neck, pounding into your pussy with your face in the couch cushions. his hips snap against your ass, your hands being held behind your back with his other hand.
“you like tha’, baby— being a pussy sleeve for me? I told chu’ you’d learn to love being my play thing…” he huffed out. planting his foot on the floor full of charred cigarettes and empty beer bottles, his pace only got faster.
even if you’re the one on top, he finds a way for him to be in control. ropes are tied around your wrist behind your back and his hands grip your love handles with a rough touch. your mouth lets out a struggled whine, his lower body drills into your body.
“mmm,” he growls, “such a pretty worthless lil’ girl.”
his hand reaches up to slap your tit, your head falls back to moan but his other hand comes up and interrupts you, “chu’ look at me,” he holds your face and forces you to look at him in the eyes, “look at me.” his other hand continues to slap your tits, switching between slapping and pinching your nipples. tears fill your eyes at the stimulation, his cock relentless in pursuit of your orgasm…
by the time he’s done with you, you’re twitching as his cum leaked out of you. he shoves your underwear in your pussy to plug his cum in your hole.
“can’t have me slippin’ out of ya, can i?”
the amount of hand prints and bruises you have by the end of your sessions are such a turn on to him.
“you’re mine, ya know that? you belong to me.”
you’re lucky if he doesn’t end up punchering your skin with how hard he bites…
A/N: I made this on a whim, it’s short, I made this in class listening to a long ass lecture. It’s a quick lil’ treat. The Johnny simp community needs more fanfiction :((
_______________________________________________
Another night at the local bar leads to another make out sesh with the local “Bad Man”. Being pushed against the wall of the one stall bathroom was the routine every Friday evening was the routine for the past few months…
It wasn’t the cleanest place… but…
“Fuck, Johnny.” You muffle through a rough kiss. His hands grasps at your love handles under your skirt and smirks as your legs start to quiver under his touch. You always got this way the moment his hands touched your warm skin.
“There ya go, baby girl.” He growls into your neck, biting it ever so slightly. His mouth reattach with yours, the taste of cigarettes and beer fills your tastebuds once again when his tongue prods at your lips.
“Lemme see,” His hand reaches up to your tank top and pulls the neck line down, exposing your bare tit, “No bra? Damn… You missed me, didn’t chu’?” He grasps your chest and latches his mouth onto your nipple. Your hands as if it was an instinct tangle into his hair, his other hand pushing the small of your back so your chest got impossibly closer.
The doorknob to the bathroom begins to shake, a knock on the door follows.
Johnny lets go of your nipple with a loud pop, “I’m usin’ the fucking bathroom!” His knee rubs against your pussy. Your hand shoots up to cover your mouth, hoping you don’t accidentally get too loud…
An unknown voice talks behind the door, “Alright man… don’t gotta be a fuckin’ dickhead.”
Though you knew Johnny would usually get heated over this, instead his hands lowers itself between you too and he pulls your panties down.
Realizing that it was finally time to do this… again… you reach down to unbuckle his belt, unfastening it and unzipping his pants. He smirks as he sees how fast you’re doing so, “Heh, ya can’t wait for my cock, can’t chu’, sugar?”
Your hand reaches into his pants and you pull out his cock and stroke it. He growls, “Fuckkk—“ His hand grabs the back of your head and pulls you into a rough kiss, you continue to keep stroking, using his pre-cum to make it easier.
He suddenly hauls your legs around his waist and pushes you against the wall again, “Move your skirt, princess.”
You nod and bundle your skirt up your waist, and retreat your arms around his neck.
“Mhmm,” He growls, “Pretty girl…” His large hands runs along the back of your thighs to lift your legs he’d seemingly fold you over with your legs on either side of your hips. Your pussy twitches as your puffy clit get exposed to Johnny.
He lines up his cock, and prods at your hole.
You gasp— the stretch was too much when he finally tried to push it in, “A-Ah, wait…” Your hands push against his chest.
“C’mon, you can take more of it, cant’cha?” He chuckles when he realizes that you were too tight for his fat cock, “Baby, how many times have we been together and you’re still beggin’ and cryin’?”
Your chest rises up and down as you try to relax, “You’re just too big for me, Johnny…”
He chuckles again, “Well…” He reaches down again, “This always seems to work for ya, darlin’.” He smirks as his finger sticks to your clit, running his finger tip in circles. Your eyes roll back— the fucking experience this man had. Your pussy twitched, taking more of his length as you milked his cock deeper into your core.
He finally hit the hilt, and you let out a big breathe of relief, the pain finally subsided.
He leans into the side of your head, whispering in your ear, “You ready, baby?” His hand comes up to wrap around your throat, “Hmm?” He growls, grazing his teeth against your earlobe.
You nod your head frantically, “Y-Yes.” You squeak. He starts slow, his hand on your throat tightening as he pumps into your core. Your hand retreats to your mouth as his pace picks up, “Stay quiet, lil’ lady…”
His hands go under your ass, grasping the fat and lifting you higher, your legs stay attached to his waist and your forearms rest against the tile wall, his pace speeds up. His arms flex under the florence light, his teeth baring as he watches his cock go in and out of your sweet little pussy.
“F-Fuck, baby girl…” He huffed. Your hand still held your noise but the slapping of skin to skin got louder.
A loud banging on the door, “Hello?! What’s taking so damn long?!”
Johnny yelled, “I’m fuckin’ in here!” He turns back to you, “We gotta make this quick, sugar—“ His head perks up, however, like the best idea of his life just so happened to crawl into his mind, “Say, come to my place, baby…” His thrust completely stopped. Your eyes look back at his. You arms loosening around his neck, he pulls out and you get back on your legs again. You look down at the floor, you two never really have went to each others personal places…
“U-Um, sure—“ The sound of the door banging again interrupts you. Johnny begins walking to the door tucking his dick back in, you try as quickly as you could to fix your skirt and underwear as fast as you could but before you could pull your underwear back up, Johnny opened the door, “Can I help ya, bastard?”
The man stared blankly. Your hair, your clothes, and your face was a mess… Johnnys pants were still unbuttoned and unbuckled.
You ultimately pull your underwear off, not bothering to fix them anymore. You hold your underwear in your hand as you come behind Johnny. Johnny shoves the man away and you follow suit.
“Come on, let’s go.” A smirk grows on his face.
________________________________________
But that was last night…
Johnny’s silhouette stood at wooden door, “This is where you’re stayin’, sugar…” He comes forward. You tug at the ropes around your wrist, lying on the couch that he tied you to.
When you were brought over to his shed, he ‘tired’ you out and ended up tying you. Your clothes from the night before laid on the floor.
A blanket was the only thing covering your body.
He chuckles at you struggle against the rope, “Heh, you’re not gettin’ out of that,” He bends over and puts his yellow gloved hand on your chin, making you look at him, “If you’re a good girl, you’ll be okay. I’m keeping you so ya better get used to it.”
…
Weeks go by, he comes back with a missing poster with your face on it…
“Pretty girl, I gotta start taking these down, don’t want others to see your gorgeous face.”
He struts over and grabs a knife, you flitch as he raises it over you. A thump noise makes you jump but looking up you realize he put the missing poster right above you— being held up with a knife.
A tear runs down your face, and he notices it. He doesn’t say anything. Who knew that a weekly visit to see the “Bad Man” would be a bad idea…
Warning: Stockholm syndrome, implications of sexual activities, threats
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Survival was more of a complicated concept than you ever would think. When you’re trapped laying on top of a serial killer cannibal secretly basking in the smell of his cologne— the meaning of survival blurs.
Your plan was to get the cold brooding man’s trust, and take a chance to make a run for it when the moment came. But now? You didn’t want to move— this was the chance! You could get up and leave right now! He wouldn’t notice, he didn’t even notice your hands touching his face… He never let you do that before. Finally touching his scar on his face, you couldn’t help biting your lip.
The door of his stack was right there…
‘Leave.’ The voice in your head told you. His face was so peaceful— he wouldn’t know the difference if you got up.
The days blended together, the closer Johnny got to you. He opened up about his past— his biological mother and his abusive adoptive mother, Nancy. He’s only doing what he thought was okay. Unfortunately, he’s a killer, no one can come back from that. He learned to like it as much as he didn’t at first. It’s too late.
You try and push against his arms that wrapped around your waist, but it was so tight. He stirs in his sleep and his hand grazed the bite mark on your skin. You screw your mouth shut into a thin line to keep quiet— quite struggling to do so. Once he stopped moving again and his face fell again, you slide out his arms instead. Sliding out your feet plant onto the floor full of cigarettes and beer bottles. You’re careful to not touch any of the rolling glass bottles. Once full standing, you tip toe to the door, the floor planks creaking under your weight—
“Darlin’.”
Your heart dropped, your body froze. You turn around to see his eyes glaring at your figure, “Y-Yes?” You stutter.
His lips curved into a dangerous smile. “Where do ya think you’re goin’?” he asked, and the room closed in.
“I was just— um,” You pause, “I was trying to find some bandages for the bites you said you’d clean up…”
… That was the most obvious lie you’ve ever made and you were probably going to die because of it.
His gaze flickered to the side table, where the gauze and wrapping lay innocently. Wait, will he actually believe you? Could he see through your lie?
Johnny’s smile widened, “Bandages,” he breathed out, drawing out the word. “You’re a terrible liar, darlin’.” His voice held a threat, staring you a snake about to strike. “But I’ll play along.”
He got up and stepped closer, and panic surged through your veins. Holding your breath your survival instincts screamed at you to flee, to run for the door— it was still unlocked, freedom was only a door away but Johnny’s scarred hand reached for the gauze, and you let your breath go. You knew better than to try and run— especially from Johnny.
His touch was surprisingly gentle as he examined the bite mark on your side.
“You’re mine,” he murmured, tracing the edges of the wound, your face contorted into a painful look. You don’t say anything but he continues,
“And I take care of what’s mine.” His fingers lingered, and you wondered if he could hear your heart pounding. “Next time, don’t lie. I prefer honesty out of you.”
The door remained unlocked, but Johnny’s eyes held you captive.
As he wrapped the bandage around your waist and put it over your wound, you wondered if you could change his story.
Even if he understood your plan to try and escape he still had a gentle hand with you. You will never understand his obsession with you but when he leaned in and kissed your bruised neck you got a whiff of his cologne again it all melted away. His obsession could be that he wanted to taste you or keep you under his body in the late of nights— you didn’t care. You’ve never had a man be so enamored with you to the point he marked and healed you at the same time.
He whispered against your throat, his breath a promise or a threat. “You’re mine.” He repeated.
“Yours,” you whispered, and the word hung in the air. You couldn’t tell if it was a confession or a surrender. His lips curved, capturing your mouth in a kiss that tasted of desperation and longing. His teeth grazed your lower lip, marking you anew. You wondered if he tasted regret or redemption.
I repeated, “I’m yours.”
His rough hand cradled your face, and for a moment, you seen a glimpse of vulnerability in the man eyes. His lips were captured in his teeth, his lids droops in haze when he heard you, “There you go, baby…” He breathed out. He bathe in this.
As you leaned into his touch, you wondered if redemption was possible. His lips captured yours and it felt as if he was trying to devour you.
Even if he was a killer and ate our kind, you looked past it— it was never his fault…
