sawyer/slaughter family using captured!reader for sex
tags: dead dove - read at your own risk. smut - MDNI. gn!reader. all family seperate. bondage. rough sex. petplay. underwear sniffing. somnophilia. cannibalism-ment. aftercare (only with bubba).
harddom!johnny being your capturer but liking everyone having his way with you. his possessive attitude dampening over time and your novelty wearing off. leaving you chained in random parts of the house and going on with his day, coming back to see you exhausted, ready to have his turn with you. hanging you in his shack by the wrists, littering your body with bite marks, bonding your limbs with rope, using you like a glorified piece of meat. fucking your holes until their raw, amused by your moans mixed with screams. fucking you dumb until he undoes your restraints, making you crawl on your knees, and face fuck you until he blows his load over your face.
softdom!nubbins playing with your holes while you sleep, holding in his giggles as you squirm in your slumber, awed at your wetness under his touch. dry humping your leg until you wake up, basking in your surprise until you succumb to him. prying your legs open to enter his hard, meek dick. rutting into you like a desperate puppy, his moans sounding like sobs. praising your body, thanking you for letting you fuck him, pleading that he is not worthy of your body. but he never slows his pace, slamming his hips rapidly until he cums, careless on where his load lands; dripping on your leg pathetically.
femdom!sissy treating you like a little pet, playing with your hair and adorning a leash around your neck. using you as a foot stool while she lounges around the house, snapping her fingers when she wants your attention. pinning you to the floor and fucking your tongue, riding your face as you gasp for air. pulling at the lead when you disobey, demanding you to be a good little kitty/doggie and lick her cunt. when you're good for her, she lets you sleep with her and ride her thigh, mewling over your whimpers, pleasuring you when you're too fucked out to think. only letting you cum when you beg for her.
perv!drayton never laying a finger on you, but goes down to clean your cell, cursing at the mess you leave. wishing you were never here and degrading your existence. you're better off being their next meal, but now he don't wanna eat you now you're the family's cum dump. without you looking, he steals your underwear for his own possession. taking it back to his room, inhaling your scent, cursing his old age for not getting it up and letting him have pleasure. his body unresponsive, but his mind wild with thoughts about you.
scene-dom!bubba the one you have to anticipate the most, brace your frail, sore body for his manhandling. he tries to be gentle, bubbling concern noises at your winces of pain. stroking your face, but his heavy hand rough on your skin. wearing his pretty woman mask and wanting you to match, sloppily apply makeup to your face, red lipstick smudged along the corner of your mouth. he cheers at his masterpiece, ready to fuck his pretty little thing, sheepishly revealing his fat dick. the sight of it intimidating, his heavy build engulfing you, his large girth stretching you out. his thrusts slow but heavy, pummelling his whole length inside you, bubbling at the way you tense around him. he gets overstimulated from the pleasure, his moans frantic. he finishes inside you, cockwarming until he goes limb, letting you lay on his lap with his arms around you, not wanting to let you go just yet and milking all the time he has with his little play toy.
well um... i just wrote that on a whim. idk what came over me. i am truly rotted in the brain. so enjoy, i guess?
tags: smut - MDNI. fem!reader. stepbro!johnny. reader loses virginity. ment of pantie sniffing and masturbating. johnny is a manipulative lil shit. praise. oral (m receiving). cowgirl. stomach bulge. possessive. degrading by the end. unprotective sex. hints at an age gap.
Johnny knew the consequences that came with Nancy marrying another man. He’ll disappear like the rest of him, without a trace. But this time, the package came with a cute little step-sister. Naive as they come, you try not to take too much space in the household. When Daddy wasn’t home, Nancy scorned you and made it known you weren’t part of the family. Johnny, however, seemed to enjoy your company. He wanted it a little too much for a step-brother.
Having an older brother after years of being a sheltered-only child was exciting. And his behaviour did not stick out as abnormal but conflicted with your consciousness. Johnny liked touching you. Touch you wherever he wanted. Grazing the small of your back, tuck your hair behind your ear. He teased your blushing. He discovered that you were easy to carry and made it routine to pick you up. To feel your thighs around his waist, your timid hands grip his shoulders for support. He’d chuckle at your whines to put you down.
When he started to get adventurous, he’d test the limits when Nancy and your dad weren’t around—becoming the man of the house when they left for work—snooping in your room when you’re downstairs making lunch, smelling your clothes and beating off to your scent. Going around the house shirtless in the Texan heat, clocking your desperate urge not to feed your eyes on him, making your conflicts worse by lingering in your bedroom, leaning over your bed, the stretch of his abdomen clouding your mind. It was only a matter of time before Johnny would the fuck the slut out of his step-sister.
It all started when you both had the house to yourself for the night. You lay across your bed reading a book. You wondered if he would make his daily trip inside, your stomach tender and topsy. He didn’t bother knocking, causing you to shift as the door creaks open. Johnny walks in. Just wanted to check up on ya. You couldn’t help but smile. He took his regular spot on your bed, spreading along the bottom, holding himself up with his strong arm. Muscles flexing. Your face grows hot.
I’ve been meanin’ to ask ya something, Johnny ponders, his hands fidgeting with the bed throw. Are you a virgin?
You were shocked, slapping your hand on his shoulder. Why would you ask me that?
I’ll take that as a yes, Johnny smirked. All you could do was look dumbfounded.
That’s a shame. Guys your age don’t want a virgin girl. They want them nasty. Trust me, I’d know. I was that age once. Johnny shrugged, trying to hide his smirk at your disappointment.
That can’t be true. Daddy says guys want respectable girls to marry.
Well, your Daddy don’t know everything. Johnny said, his eyes lingering over your body. But I could teach you a few things since I'm your step-brother. Your breath hitches as he moves closer to you, cupping your chin. I could teach you how to fuck properly. How to suck off a guy. How to ride him. It could come in real’ handy when you find that special someone.
Bewitched by his stare, you follow his gaze as you kneel on the bed, watching as Johnny stands up and unbuckles his jeans. It ain’t as scary once you try it, Johnny soothes, patting your head.
Your lips were timid around his tip, moaning surprisingly as he bucks his hips, his cock stuffing your tiny mouth. It’s good to keep eye contact, Johnny grunts, guiding your head for your doe-like stare to fixate on his lustrous gaze. Yeah, that’s it, good girl. Once your mouth salivated, Johnny eased his length inside, holding your head in place. You squeeze your eyes shut, tears streaming. You choke as his tip licks the back of your throat. Yet, you didn’t want to protest, feeling your cunt pulsing at the deep groans escaping Johnny’s mouth. You like my cock, don’t ya lil sis? You might not want another cock after mine.
He taught you all the techniques. How to swirl your tongue around his shaft, open your throat to take him all in, and massage his balls. Giving the puppy-dog eyes that drive him mad. He could feel himself growing close to a climax, so he pulled out of your swollen mouth and picked you up in his arms. How’s about time I show you how to fuck good, ay girl?
You cradled his lap, his hands exploring your body, lurching his lips around your nipples. He holds you in place as you whimper, squirming as he attacks your sensitivity. Positioning his cock under your dripping cunt, Johnny guides your hips to sink on his length. His eyes glazed as he watched the shock on your face.
Johnny, it hurts- You protest, but his hands are keeping you firmly in place. Your legs shake, whining at the pain of his cock filling you.
It’s okay, darlin’. You’ll get used to it, Johnny says, caressing your cheek. There, it’ll soon go away. You’ll enjoy it, I promise.
You soon get used to his length, the pain washing away. It began to feel like a pleasurable ache, the knot in your stomach gradually coming undone. You look down at Johnny’s immersive hands on your waist, guiding your hips to grind down into him. Your back arches, and you sigh a moan, easing yourself into it.
That’s it, you’re doing good. Keeping doing that, Johnny reassures. He leans back and lets you take full reign, gazing at the perky breasts pressed together, your hands on his chest. You move in places to feel comfortable, running your walls up and down his cock, moaning as his length pumps into you. He felt so good, and you felt ashamed to enjoy it. Your step-brother’s cock fits inside you so perfectly, and he looks at you in a way you desire to be looked at.
Johnny was in bliss, his fingers pressing against your stomach, feeling the bulge of his cock inside you. It drove him crazy, seeing his innocent little step-sister riding his cock. You’re a natural, He breathed out. Keep riding me like that, and I’ll make it a habit.
And he did make it a habit. Every single day. Giving you daily step-brother lessons on how to fuck good. How someone should fuck you, pleasure you into oblivion. Encouraging you to lean into your lustrous instinct and become available to him. It became more than just pleasing your future man and more about how to pleasure him.
No other guy’s cock will be better than your big brother’s, Johnny would grunt into your ear, bending you over the bed and drilling into you. He fucked you anywhere he pleased, in the bed, in the shower, on the couch. Johnny couldn’t contain himself around you. He liked it when you were home alone, so you could be as loud as you wanted. The more you gave yourself to him, the more he gave into his rough instincts. His praise turned degrading, and his thrusts fucked you into becoming a slut for his cock.
Look at you, desperate for stepbro's cock, Johnny teased you. You give him into him every time. That’s what good step-sisters are for, right? Who knew you were such a little whore? God, ain’t I glad I came into your room. I would’ve missed out on this nice little pussy.
Johnny fucking Stockholm’d!Reader in the back of one of the old cars behind the family house? 👀 In one of your mini fics you mentioned him taking her out to the sunflower fields, maybe that’s when it happens?
busted cars and sunsets - j. slaughter / 1k
an: hey i kinda went astray from relating it to the sunflower field drabble but it still has all that other good stuff you asked for!! i also ended up writing more than i thought so i hope you like it<33
tags: smut. MDNI. gn!reader. stockholm syndrome (kinda??). descriptions of trauma. canon-mentions of violence and cannibalism. innocent, sheepish reader. johnny is surprisingly gentle and nice?? but it might be a bluff. making out. grinding. fucking in a car. doggystyle. mentions of kidnapping.
Johnny was looking everywhere for you. Nancy was calling for supper, and you weren’t in the shed like you said you would be. He tried not to think about it too much, the thought of you running away or trying to escape. Maybe you got distracted or went inside for a drink. The sun was setting, and Johnny’s worrying crept up, forming a lump in his throat.
You were sheepish. At least you have been with the Slaughter family. Every minor squeak or crack sent you scattering. Maybe it was the trauma of trying to escape the house, the first time you ate human flesh, or the fact that the family kidnapped you. It’s been so long since the incident that you have begun to accept your fate and grow fond of your captures. Are people still looking for you? Or have they given up like they did with Maria? The thoughts clouded your mind, and you hugged your legs in the back of the rusted car in the Slaughter’s yard.
Johnny realised real quick where you were hiding. He noticed that you liked hiding, growing attached to your company. Johnny wished you grew attached to him, but adjusting to a new life takes a while. That is how he perceived it: you were lucky, the family liked you, and they spared your life. Now you’re one of them, and he can make you happy. Johnny made his way towards the cars, the ones too far gone to fix, and peered inside the busted-out window to see your trembling frame.
“Hey, sweetheart. Why you all bundled up in here?” Johnny said, surprisingly, in a soothing voice. You peeked your head up, giving a meek smile. You like it when he speaks softly. It is the only thing that makes you feel safe. His effort on tenderness is bearable, given the circumstances.
“Nubbin’s trap set off while I was picking flowers. I got scared,” You say. Johnny knew you were telling the truth from the look in your eyes. He motioned his hand to your ankle, checking for injury. “Don’t worry,” You reassure, cringing, “It didn’t get me.”
Johnny let out a stressful sigh. “That darn idiot. I’m gonna beat him over the head,” Johnny spat under his breath. He looked over at you, seeing you back into the corner as he displayed anger. He relaxed his cold stare and slowly opened the rusty door, sliding into the seat next to you and resting his hand on your knee.
“You got nothing to be scared about. No one’s gonna hurt you no more. Nubbins is just being reckless with his traps. Y’know, he puts them around to catch the rabbits.” Johnny reassures, levelling with reason in hopes you calm you down.
You sat silently until another call for supper came from inside the house. You looked at Johnny, twiddling a piece of string from your shirt. “I’m not really hungry,” You mutter, “Sorry…”
Johnny nodded in understanding, rubbing your calf with a gentle stroke. “That’s all right, darlin’. You can eat whenever you feel like it,” He knew Nancy wouldn’t like that much, but he certainly would protect you if she nagged you for it.
“Can we stay in here for a while? Watch the sunset?” You enquire, the thought of it making you smile. Appreciating the small things became a method to keep your sanity. It also made excuses for being around the house, a place you find troubling.
“Alright, but we go inside once the sun’s down, okay?” Johnny reasoned, and you nodded happily.
You crawl over to Johnny and rest your head on his chest, spotting the sun meeting the horizon at your eye level. Johnny only had his eyes on you, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair, his tongue sliding along his bottom lip in thought.
“It’s beautiful,” You mutter, charmed by the colours in the evening sky.
“You’re beautiful,” Johnny claimed, his body sensing bashfulness prevail over you.
You look into his eyes, a slight smirk on Johnny’s face as he admires your innocence. Subconsciously, Johnny’s lips lean closer to yours. You stood still like time was frozen, fluttering your eyes shut when he kissed you.
He was rough but passionate as if to prove something to you. His hands explore you, cupping the back of your neck, grasping your thighs, tracing circles on the small of your back. You would be lying if you didn’t find it pleasant, giggling as he nibbled on your bottom lip, whispering sweet nothings. Your hips grind against him, feeling Johnny’s hot breath on your cheek as he gasped.
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, darlin’,” He chuckled, “You’ll get me worked up,”
“I can’t help it,” You laughed, your words conflicting with your innocent tone.
“Keep going,” Johnny purred, resting his hands on your waist and guiding your hips. You comply, watching the lustful stare in his eyes as he admires the movement of your body. You hike your shirt up, teasing him as you expose your stomach, slowly raising it until your chest greets his stare. Johnny gazes longingly up at you before entangling you into his hands and kissing you roughly.
“I need you so bad,”
The sun was greeting the horizon, the sky a deep tangerine, matching the tarnished colouring of the car. Your hand presses against the window, and a deep moan breaks loose from your confounded expression.
“Keep going, please, please-” You plead, gripping the busted leather seats to adjust to Johnny’s length inside you.
Johnny hunches over your body, teeth scraping down your spine, holding you in place with his rough hands. Estranged strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Sweat highlights the arc of his muscles.
“You’re so good for me,” He pants. He had to make this quick; otherwise, the family would set out looking for him. He feels you tightening around him, making him bend further down and grip your shoulders, burying his face into your neck.
Johnny’s groans grew husky, sending shivers down your spine. Arching your back, you grind into him. The profoundness of his cock inside you makes you fumble over your moans.
“Yes, baby. That’s it,” Johnny encouraged, rutting into you. “Keep fucking going.”
The rate of Johnny shagging into you eventually lends him his climax, and yours perfectly lines up with his. Both of your clothes are hanging by threads on your bodies. You collapse in each other's arms. His arms engulf you as you straddle his lap, your eyes drunk with lust, admiring your kidnapper, your disastrous love affair.
“You’ll never leave me, will you?” Johnny asked, staring into your soul, soaking in everything about you.
“I would never,” You breathe out.
“Promise?” Johnny pleaded, brushing a strand of hair from your glistening face, basking in your doe-like glow.
“I promise,” You whisper, kissing the scars on his knuckles. Your mind goes astray, maybe from the lustrous high or because you made a promise you might not keep.
prompts: sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)
summary: everyone comes and goes from the slaughter residence, either as survivors or stacks of meat. but as you escape and run further into the woods, johnny won't let you go that easy.
tags: DEAD DOVE - read at your own risk. smut. MINORS DNI. fem!reader. non-con. hunter/prey. knife/blood-play. descriptive injury. narcissistic johnny. fem penetration. blood hunger. choking. roughplay. slapping. kidnapped ending.
It would help to know the surroundings. Sprint the track to get to the finish line. But you’re bleeding. Your legs ache, and the tree branches are tearing at your skin. The calls of the Slaughter family echo in the distance.
Running for your life is supposed to be the escape. You’re out of the house, but your heroic end is not at a close. You have to keep running. You have to survive. And one person, in particular, will not give you up so easily.
“You’re the reason this is happening. You brought them damn kids here. You go get ‘er!” Drayton told off Johnny, waving his bloody stick towards the exit you stumbled out of.
Johnny was cool in his stance. He is cleaning his knife, sharpening its blade. He admires the glint of it in the moonlight, a sly smirk winking back at him in its reflection.
“Keep yer panties on, old man. I’ll get her,” He brushes off the Cook, swaggering towards the gate.
With his family seeing him off, Nubbie chuckles and cheers him on. Sissy claps and howls. “Bring her back fresh now, ye hear!”
Johnny was not going to share. He wants to play with his food and keep you all to himself. Once he finds you, you’re going to scream. He will have your insides, grip your flesh and suck your blood. His family will not have a nip of you. You’re all his.
The beginning of the hunt sent Johnny’s instincts into overdrive. Your shadow mystifies into the forest, and he picks up the pace to dive into the belly of the beast. He grunts as he sprints, inhaling the air. He was only human, but everything in his attitude was animalistic. A coyote in a man’s body, wanting to catch your scent, embarks on the trail you left behind and chases you until your soft flesh is between his teeth.
Deep within the sun-dried trees, Johnny halts his speed and listens to the silence. He peered his hearing for the snap of a twig, the ruffle of a leaf, anything to assume you were close by. He crouches to the earth and calculates the ground. His eye caught an indent, your shoe print heavy in the dry dirt, the heel dragged out, exposing your struggle. Johnny was mesmerised for a moment, then he advanced, tailing the track of your footprints to the direction of your hiding spot. He arrives at a dead end, cursing under his breath. He catches a look above, checking the trees, but both the trees and you are too fragile to hold weight. His eyes scan the horizon, wondering how far you have gone.
“I’m gonna find ya soon enough, sweetheart. Why don’t you come out, and we can get this over with?” Johnny called into the night, his skin tingling at the thought of you nearby.
He was closer than you thought. Tugged low in the dip of the earth, you bite the inside of your cheeks and muffle any sound of panic that threatens to burst. You may be bleeding, tired, and traumatised, but you will not give up. If he wants you to meet the same faint as your friends, he will have to come and get you.
At the deafening silence, Johnny sighs. It was long and drawn, but it soon shifted into a chuckle, and he gripped the handle of his knife tighter. “Fine, I like the challenge.”
Johnny advances, his footsteps descending to whisper when you decide to leave your hiding spot. You drag your limping body in the opposite direction, clenching your side as a cramp takes over. You look around with alert eyes, hoping to find an opening or another hiding spot if he is close. Your hope dwindles at the same scenery repeating: trees, branches, dirt. Over and over. No sounds alert you, making your eyelids droop and blur your vision. You look down at your body, your clothes drenched in blood, giving sense to your lightheadedness. The blood loss and dehydration were slowly creeping up and taking over you. Legs wobbling, making you fall.
“Come on,” You whispered, “You can do this.”
Johnny had his eyes on you. He watches you struggle, crouching within the dry branches. Your pain and fatigue amuse him, reassuring him that mortality can be handy for this line of passion. He loved a prey’s fear, how it ignites them with the endurance to keep living. Yet, the thing that is chasing them will always catch them. It can only get them so far. It lets them die with a fight still in them. People call that honour, but to Johnny, it is the thrill of the game.
It has been long enough. Johnny watches you collapse, grunting at the pain taking over, your knees buckling as you try to crawl your way further. Johnny cracks his neck and readies his blade, his heavy steps approaching you.
“I gotta hand it to ya. You got some fight in ya,” Johnny mused, towering over your struggling state.
The widening of your eyes made Johnny chuckle, tuts leaving his mouth as you began to sob.
“Come on now, I ain’t gonna kill ya. Not yet, anyway,” Johnny grips the back of your hair, yanking your head from the ground and crouching down on top of you. His legs saddle your sides, squeezing in to hold you in place. You catch the glint of his knife hovering over your throat, threatening to slice if you struggle.
“Ma mama always got at me for playing with my food as a kid. I never grew out of it. Y’know why?” Johnny presses his lips to your ear. You could now hear the husk in his voice.
“Because I fuckin’ love it,”
Your hands grip the earth, and a scream bellows from your strained throat, sirening through the trees, making birds take flight. Johnny shoves your head to the ground to silence you, pressing his blade tighter to the skin of your throat.
“You shout one more time, and I’ll cut you,” He spat, causing you to dwindle your struggle into small whimpers.
“Just kill me, please,” You plead, Johnny on top of you, detecting that you would rather be dead than be at his mercy.
Johnny enjoys having the upper hand far too much, grazing his gloved hand down your spine, lingering on the skin exposed from your summer blouse. He glances at the cuts littering your exposed arms, blood dripping from a knick on your shoulder. Johnny licks his lips in anticipation, locking his lips on your wound. You gasp, cringing at the suction from his mouth, his tongue swirling around the cut and soaking his mouth with your blood.
As if energy surged through him, Johnny groans at your taste, licking his lips dry. Your taste is sweetly metallic. He has never tasted something so pure—the blood of a lamb or a calf, laced with innocence and avoidant of bitterness. Johnny’s eyes wander down at you like the discovery of the Holy Grail. “You taste amazing.”
Johnny grips your arm and manhandles you to lie on your back, your arms feeble in your struggle. Johnny scans your body for more wounds, grunting in annoyance as most were muddy grazes. His legs add pressure to your sides, his hand nipping at the hem of your blouse.
“Keep still,” Johnny orders sternly, moving his knife to your shirt and cutting the thin fabric with the blade. You whine in defiance, but your top is torn off completely and tossed to one side. Johnny stares at the curvature of your bra, tucking his knife under the band and slicing it swiftly. Your breasts graze with goosebumps at your exposure. You squeeze your eyes shut from the humility. Johnny runs his knife down your left breast, the blunt end teasing your hardening nipple.
“You are a sight for sore eyes,” He breathes out, removing his glove with the pinch of his teeth. His bare, rough hand grips your breast, making you squirm. You glance up at Johnny, the maddening of his eyes, the flex of his muscles as he holds you in place. Sweat glistens on his face. You feel warmth between your legs as Johnny’s bulge presses against your stomach.
Without warning, Johnny slices a small incision on your soft breast, making you gasp from the shot of pain. Johnny immediately locks his lips on the fresh slice, his tongue collecting your new blood, letting a groan vibrate against you. He sucks your breast as he would with your nipple, except his infatuation is solely on your blood. Your fingers lace through his hair, and you attempt to yank him away, but he points his blade quickly to your throat.
“Move your hand, or I’ll cut you open,” Johnny threatens, pressing the blade hard, alerting panic within you.
“I can’t- I can’t do this, please,” You beg, “I want to go home,”
“Is this not want you want, darlin’?” Johnny teased, “Your cunt says otherwise.”
His head motions down and between your legs, sliding his fingers along the denim fabric of your shorts. Your throat hitches, and your legs tense, locking eyes with the darkening stare from Johnny.
“You want this, I know you want this,” Johnny mutters against his lips, “Let me make you feel good. I need this, darlin’, you gotta give yourself to me.”
His lips lock roughly with yours, his kiss hard - possibly laced with a lingering passion. You taste your blood on his tongue. You moan unexpectedly.
“See? You taste so good. Let me taste you more,” Johnny said as if he were asking, but you know you have no choice.
The sound of panic bubbles in your throat as you feel Johnny’s hands unbutton your shorts, yelping as he tugs the tight fabric down your legs. He crawls his fingers under your pants, catching your slick cunt with the tip of his fingers, collecting your wetness. Johnny groans, reaching his fingers to his lips and licking your juices. Just as sweet as your blood, warm and intoxicating.
Johnny grinds his hips down onto you before unbuckling his jeans, tossing his belt to your eye level. Your eyes trail to the sky, your mind dissociating at the sound of his jeans undone. Johnny preys your legs wider apart with his thighs, the tip of his cock at your entrance.
“You’re so wet for me, darlin’. Still sure you don’t want this?” Johnny’s pride swells at your defeat, pupils dilated at the sight of yours glazed and lost.
“I would rather be dead,” You said airily, almost inaudible. Johnny narrows his eyes, power swelling in his muscles. He wants you to beg for his cock or mercy; it does not matter.
Without warning, Johnny thrusts his cock inside, and pain shoots up your spine. He was big, more significant than you have ever taken, and he was stretching you out. You squeeze your eyes shut, and the tears trapped in your waterline pour down your cheeks. You silence the yelps filled with pain to adjust to the horrible feeling. But your cunt was wet, wet enough for Johnny to thrust deeper inside you and hold his length firmly inside you.
“Fuuuck,” Johnny groaned. Your walls clenched around his cock, and his hands grip the sides of your waist. “Sucha tight little pussy,” Johnny chuckled.
You shift your body back and forth to adjust to the pain, but it paralysed you, and Johnny drilled you deeper into the ground with the weight of his body. The cool earth stings your wounds and gathers in the grooves of your skin. It is disgusting. It is revolting. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole. “Fuck you,” You spit at Johnny, manifesting your cunt to grow teeth and bite his cock clean.
Johnny furrowed his brows at your revolt, burning a glare to your core. “The fuck you say to me?” Johnny smacked your face, stunning you, but you force eye contact.
“I said fuck you, you fucking-“ Your rage stopped short at the shuddering pain shooting through you. Johnny digs his knife into your side, toying with an open wound. You squirm, scream, try to pry him off you, but his other hand pins your wrists above your head, and his cock is stuffed deeper inside you.
“You really think talking to me like that is a good idea?” Johnny scoffs, watching the pain in your expression with perverted fascination. “Such a stupid ‘lil brat. I need to teach you a lesson.”
The pain melted into numbness. Your eyes drift further away from reality, and Johnny amps his stamina. It seemed neverending, his cock pumping into your cunt, the depth of his thrusts consistent. Johnny’s body towers over you, his knife tossed to the side. It proved useless as your body grew limp, the strength of Johnny’s arms pinning you in place enough to restrict your escape. No more were you retaliating to Johnny’s dominance.
“That’s it, good girl. Take it,” Johnny grunted, but he was not satisfied with your reaction. Lying there as you get fucked dumb, staring into space. He needs you to be compliant, to be grateful. Johnny tugs your hair and forces your gaze onto him, bathing in your bewildered stare.
“C’mon girl, I know you want this. Say how much you want it,” Johnny demands, continuing to rut into your pulsing cunt.
“I-” It was hard to string words together, but you had nowhere to look except deep in Johnny’s hunter eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours.
“Say it, fucking say it,” Johnny grew impatient, smacking his fingers over your cheeks, hoping that knocked sense into you.
“I want you, Johnny,” You sobbed, mesmerised by his insanity.
“Yeah, you fucking do. Start thanking me for fucking you so good,” Johnny enfolds his cock deep inside, holding it in place until you speak what he wants to hear.
“Thank you,” You swallow the lump in your throat, “You’re so good at fucking me. I want you to keep fucking me.”
Swelling with pride, Johnny exhales a deep groan and continues to drill into you, picking up the pace. He felt his climax ascending from his core, gazing at the bounce of your tits, your plump skin covered in the blood he poured from you. He bites the inside of his cheek.
“I’m so close, darlin’. Fuuuck,” Johnny wraps his callous hand around your throat, suppressing your air flow until you see stars.
Johnny rutted his cock to ride his high. You feel the strips of warmth melt from your slit as he pulls out, his pants hot and misty against your neck. Your eyes trail over to Johnny, buckling his jeans and quickly putting on your underwear and shorts.
“Sorry about your blouse,” He mutters, removing his tank top and putting it on you. There is no point in convincing yourself he did it out of the kindness of his heart, as it is to carry you back to the place you tried to escape from and not make the rest of the family suspicious.
Johnny lifts you and tosses your body over his shoulder, your mind and body too exhausted and petrified to wiggle from his grasp. “Let’s take you back home,” He says.
Home. That place was not your home. But to Johnny, he is making it your home. There goes the days of elaborate escapes, deception and retribution. He will have you wrapped around his figure. He shall convince you that no one else cares for you. Only he will protect you, care for you, and love you.
tags: smut. MINORS DNI. fem/afab!reader. dom!johnny. implied stockhom syndrome. sharing a bed. male receiving foreplay. praise. use of pet names. deep throat. possessive. fem penetration.
It ain’t so bad, is it? Johnny asked, gently lying on his bed, caressing the back of your head as you leaned into the pillow.
What’s all this about, Johnny? You asked. It wasn’t every day he let you out of the basement, where you had to spend your days.
I feel right terrible keeping you down there. But you know I gotta, don’t you? If you were up here all the time, looking as lovely as you do, my family would try and hurt ya. I can’t let that happen, Johnny reassured, but today’s a good day. There ain’t no one around. Everyone is sleeping.
That’s nice of you. Thank you, you whispered, kissing his hand gently.
Johnny let you wash up for bed and gave you fresh sleepwear. As he took his clothes off, soaked in sweat from the Texan heat, you lay in bed witnessing his bare chest on display. Lightly toned, the definition clear on his arms and torso. He noticed you staring and sent a smirk your way. Unbuckling his jeans, making sure you took him all in, he slid them off and stood in his underwear. A blush erupted on your face.
I sleep like this. You don’t mind, do ya? Johnny asked, basking in your fluster.
You shook your head, cutting out your stares and laying back into bed. Johnny slid next to you and flicked off the lamp. In the darkness, you shuddered as Johnny’s body heat radiated through your back.
This is nice, Johnny whispered, his lips close behind.
You mumbled in agreement, mentally anticipating Johnny to come closer to you. The thought of his touch makes your body grow hot. Almost reading your mind, Johnny traced his fingers along your side, causing a shudder to come over you.
I am one lucky guy, having you next to me, he mumbled, pressing his touch to feel the curve of your side. His lips hovering over your neck, eyes half-lidded.
You exhaled, reaching your hand to cup his face, inviting him to kiss your neck. His teeth crazed your sensitive spot ravishingly, causing you to let out a breathy moan. For a moment, he pulled away, shushing you gently.
We can’t wake up the others, you hear. I need you to be quiet for me, He contested.
His hand snaked to your clit and tucked between your legs to test your ability in silence. Feeling your warmth, Johnny shuddered and bucked his hips closer to you. You felt his length press against you and calculated his size, how far he can go, how much he can stretch. You mewled into your hand and pushed your entrance into Johnny’s hand, the feeling of his fingers satisfying the hunger building inside you.
My God, look at you—such a pretty sight.
Johnny had you kneeling, your eyes peering up at him like a lost puppy. His hand massaged his length over his boxers' fabric, admiring your submissive state. The overwhelming feeling of catching prey overtook him, and he began pulling down his boxers to reveal himself. His dick sprung across your face. You gulped in anticipation.
You took him exceedingly well, taking both of you by surprise. Johnny’s head fell back, and he exhaled a long, satisfied breath. But he knew he wanted to pick up the pace. He liked it rough – and fast. His hands bolted behind your head; he sinks into your warm mouth. Your gasp is stuffed and muffled. It slides down, his tip touching your throat.
Fuuck, baby. Yeah, that’s more like it. Your hands grip his thighs and push forward, but your slick slit drips on the hardwood. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you take him all in. Johnny’s cock leaves your mouth with a pop. You gasp for air. Begging for more, your tongue licks his shaft.
Johnny grips your hair, and with a yank, your mouth is agape. That’s it, good girl. His cock enters again, your mouth rimmed along his girth, his protrusive vein sliding along the corner of your lips. Fucking you into oblivion. Tears swell in your eyes, your vision is blurred, and you accept the fate to be ruined and perversely satisfied. Saliva pools in your mouth and drips down your chin.
You are halted and thrust onto the bed, your bare back exposed to Johnny erect and pumping his cock with a firm fist. Perking your slick cunt, you let out a pathetic whine for him to fill you. Johnny trails a finger over your sopping walls, running his tongue along his bottom lip.
I like this side of you, begging for me. Johnny whispered with bated breath, completely feral for your tight, soft body to be his possession—such a pretty little bunny.
Burying your face into the sheets, you squeak from the adjustive pain of Johnny entering you. Barrelled deep within you, your walls tightening around his cock, Johnny doubles over and grunts into your ear. You know what this means, huh? You’re all mine now.
An entanglement of whimpers and mewls escapes your mouth as Johnny performs harsh thrusts into your pussy. Groaning with every pump inside you, he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, reminding you that you are the one below, and he is the one on top. My pretty little thing. You’re all mine now, no one else can have you. Gripping your hips, pinning you deeper into the mattress, hunting for the most profound part within you to fuck his cock into. Yeah, that’s a good girl. You take me so well.
johnny slaughter drabble. nsfw. stockholm syndrome. fem reader.
having stockholm syndrome for johnny would be hot crazy as fuck. you’re the only victim that doesn’t get hurt or unalived bc johnny is crazy for you. threatening the other slaughters if they try to lay a finger on you. he never lets you out his sight, he sleeps with you, bathes you, sits next to you at dinner. he binds your wrists not bc he thinks you’ll try and escape but he’s highkey turned on.
he’ll comb your hair or bring you food and constantly needs affirmation. you’ll never try and escape, will you darlin’? good girl. he takes you to the sunflower field because he knows you like it, and when the house is out of sight he grips his hands onto your waist, nuzzling his nose into your neck, breathing in your scent. you’re gorgeous, you know that? he mumbles into your ear, his hand slowly hiking up your summer dress and touching your bare thighs. god, i love you. my little sunflower. his fingers crawl closer in between your legs. he smirks as you moan.
synopsis. reader's father brings on an apprentice to work for him, but the young lad becomes an unlikely friend to the old man. johnny becomes a regular in your household, and the thoughts about him are becoming unbearable. when they become reality, johnny puts you in your rightful place.
tags. smut - MDNI. dad's best friend. college student!reader. size kink. height difference. reader is twenty-one, johnny is twenty-eight. dacryphilia. reader description in bikini top & shorts. sneaking off. bedroom sex. yearning. smoking cigarettes. power imbalance. secret relationship. rough kissing & sex. edging. oral (f & m receiving). use of 'little one', 'slut' and 'baby' as pet names. stomach bulge. johnny is too big for reader. positions: mating press, upstanding citizen, elevator stance.
Your dad was the guy the town went to to get anything from a tap to the free-loader truck fixed into shape. He was always handy with his hands, and it’s what brought the money in for the family. People come and go on the property, and you’re just glad the yards are big enough so they can work away in the blazing sun instead of disrupting the peace inside. At your considerable age, however, you never quite appreciated your dad appointing you as a jug maid when people came over—asking you to fetch water or mom’s home-grown lemonade and top it up for the guests.
Eight in the morning was the starting point, your mom fetching ingredients in the kitchen and your dad cleaning up his tools by the dining table. You idled behind the door as you listened to their conversation.
“Really? You’re gonna hire him?” Your mom said, confusion lacing her words.
“C’mon, it’s not the boy’s fault. Nancy said he couldn’t find permanent work in the city, and I’ve seen him fix things up – the kid’s got the touch. He can’t help who his family is,” Your dad defended.
“I don’t know, there’s rumours. I don’t wanna find out if there’s any truth,”
“Those are about Nancy, not him. Cut him some slack. You’ll like him when you get to know him.” That was the last you heard before you darted back to your room. As you changed for the day, you knew who your parents were talking about. Hesitant like your mother, you recalled your memories of the Sawyers and the Slaughters. They are a crazy bunch, not right in the head, tuned to the moon – the usual gossip about them. They were hushed words through the grapevine to you; you never met one of them in person. Now that Nancy’s ‘kid’ is your dad’s new apprentice, you could decide how crazy they are.
He drove in the yard in a busted-up truck, but the engine sounded clean and the exhaust clear as a whistle. Your dad stood out front while you and your mom hung by the porch. You strain your eyes to glimpse him in the bright sun. As he jumped out of the truck, your lips parted.
He was like something out of the movies. Hair slicked back – sun-kissed skin. Dust on his boots, the sleeves cut from his shirt. Head held high and flashing a smile as he shook your dad’s hand. You studied the flex of his arms – muscle-toned and robust. The rumours failed to mention how handsome he was, for sure.
Once he greets your dad, you and your mom walk towards him to get acquainted.
“I expected you to be a little scrawny thing,” Your mom smiled, just as surprised as you. The man chuckled and rubbed his neck awkwardly.
“You must be thinkin’ of Nubbins. I’m Johnny – Nancy’s son,” Johnny. It suited him like hair gel does a greaser.
“Gosh, I’m sorry, son, I’m bad with faces,” Your mom hollered, her bashfulness radiating off you and growing embarrassment in your core.
“This is my wife,” Your dad gestured, “And this quiet one at the back is my daughter,”
You introduce yourself. Johnny repeated your name, and it dripped like honey from his tongue. You mustered the coolest smile, hoping he blamed your bashfulness on the delirium of the heat. You spotted the hand he outstretched and shook it, your stomach doing summer salts at his firm grip—the stroke of his callous hands, deluging your hand. You could melt away in that moment.
Perch on the porch swing chair, nose in a book, your mind wandered to faraway lands to the noise of gears turning. Your dad praised Johnny’s working hands, a mutual bond in the early stages of establishment. Their tinkering perked your ears occasionally, your eyes peering over the book pages, salivating at the sight of Johnny’s gloved hands coated in soot. His eyes fixed on the mechanics, tiny strands of hair dangling over his forehead. Your dad calls on you, knocking you out of the trance.
“Fetch some lemonade, ay hun?”
You sighed, making your way into the house. In the shade, your skin still tingled. You glimpse your reflection in the hallway mirror. Cheeks dark – permanently flushed and hot. The pit of your stomach echoes alluring calls, burdening all logical thought. As you poured the glasses, you thought about those gloved hands gripping your sides, turning your body, greeting you with a rough kiss. Were his lips soft? Or brittle and callous, affected by the dry atmosphere. How much does his skin glisten with sweat? Do droplets run down the grooves of his muscles? His sun-kissed skin is littered with freckles, minuscule and collective, only noticeable when you kiss his points, running your tongue tactfully down his stomach.
“Honey, you’re spilling that!” Your mom rushed for a kitchen towel, soaking the lemonade that spread along the counter. You jumped out of your thoughts, awed by the mess, questioning the passing of time.
“Sorry, I was somewhere else…”
The thoughts only intensified when Johnny became a regular guest. He had much in common with your dad, and the unlikely man in his late 20s became a close friend to the older man. He was adopted by your dad’s friend circle, taking him under their wing, invited to BBQs, after-work bar drinks, and poker nights. When Johnny couldn’t make it, your dad always said he was in the city. You came to find Johnny wasn’t much older than you, but he likes to act like he is. One poker night, he walked past your bedroom, returning from the bathroom, eyeing the papers and books littering your desk. You felt his presence leaning on the door frame, thumbs hooked to his belt.
“Watcha got there?” He asked, his drawl never failing to amuse you.
“Summer reading. Gotta do it before I start the semester.”
“You’re always reading. Don’t ya eyes get sore?” His teasing took you by surprise. His hint at an observation was quite flattering. You thought he forgot you existed. It wouldn’t hurt to return the teasing, would it?
“Don’t your hands get sore from fixing so many cars?”
Johnny’s head leans back as he chuckles, a smirk on his face that could kill you on the spot. “You got me there, little one,” Johnny let his words linger as he walked back downstairs.
It should offend you to be called small, weaker, submissive. You were a grown-up. The grip on your pencil was firm but not from anger. It was from realising the sensation between your legs underneath your pyjama shorts. You were soaking wet.
July proved that this summer was hot, and there was no sign of it cooling down. Sitting outside was unbearable, and the thirst for cold water lay throats to dry as the pipes produced a lukewarm liquid that left a bad taste on the tongue. By the time Dad returned, the bags of ice melted in their plastic bags, causing your mother to rush about making ice cubes from scratch. All for the BBQ to still go ahead. The guests would be arriving soon.
Your parents’ friends arrived early to help out, and you heard the chin-wagging from up the stairs, cursing under your breath to find something decent to wear. Sweat invaded your skin even after having a shower, and the shorts and bikini top were becoming all too tempting to wear. You checked yourself in the mirror, the bikini strap tied around the back of your neck, the colour complimenting the hues of your skin. The plain and denim shorts are the most comfortable ones you own. Displaying your legs, room for the stomach, firm against your backside. It was the most revealing thing you’ve worn in a while, but as the sunlight reaches every corner of your bedroom, its feverish radiation gives you the excuse not to ponder. Checking your appearance once more, you sigh at your fussing and make your way downstairs.
Prepping food with your mom left you to wonder about your college friends. They were scattered around the states, living out their summers while you were stuck with the senior club. The guests remarked: if you don’t wanna hang with us old folks, we won’t take offence, hun. These people were considered your aunts and uncles; they’ve seen you in diapers. They braided your hair and kept your prying hands away from dangerous objects. The least you could do was spend time with them in your limbo stage of young adulthood and enjoy their company before you leave this town.
Things would have stayed wholesome if Johnny didn’t show up.
He wore the same clothes as always. This time, they looked like they had a fresh wash. His boots are polished, mechanic gloves discarded, his hair wet and slight back like he just hopped out of the shower. The congregation of the porch cooed at his arrival. The husbands were ready for handshakes, and the wives willfully smiled at his charming face. You were the only one to react like his welcome was neutral, even when you cocked your hip slightly to the side and fixed your hair.
He brought an offering of corn cobs, excusing the rest of his family not making attendance. “Momma wanted to give these as an apology for not comin’. She said she real busy. In truth, I think she was nervous comin’ here. She ain’t been out in a long while.”
They all thought how gratuitous the boy was looking out for his momma. You kept a blank face at their responses, knowing they would be as tense in meeting the ‘Black Nancy’. The black widow of Newt sitting with them, eating food with them, the rumours floating in their head like sewage in a gutter. It's a good thing he brought a meatless offering.
There were too many cooks in the kitchen as the men established a system by the grill, letting their wives sit around and ask Johnny questions, keeping him in their company. You sat by the edge, amused by the sight of his attempt to keep his cool.
They asked a lot about his family, and you sensed the tense build-up inside him from across the table. You bit your lip, staring into space, hearing the stutter of his words. He was like a meerkat around hyenas, and he didn’t like that one bit.
“How’s the old man? What was his name? Drayton! Is he still working at that gas station? Every time I drive by, there seems to be no gas in it,” The woman hollered, “Must be y’all bringing all the money in.”
“Wasn’t there a youngest? Must be cousins with yourself. ‘Went to school with my oldest, but he was not in it for long – teachers said he was slow-thinking. Think they pulled him out eventually. How’s he holdin’ up?”
The look in Johnny’s eyes, you hadn’t seen him like that before. Dark and daggering at the table, avoiding the gazes his way. You notice his forearm tense, his hands clenched into a fist. You felt like saying something.
“Quit your hollerin’ at ‘im! He don’t wanna gossip with ya!” Your dad’s friend nipped at his wife, causing the women to transfer into giggles.
“Would ya excuse me?” Johnny rose from the table and headed inside, insinuating use for the bathroom. As he entered the front door, you waited a few seconds before heading inside. Pausing by the hallway, you hear his footsteps, ear perking at a creak from upstairs. As you ascend the stairs, you see him loitering by the landing, arms crossed and back to the wall. His eyes closed, heaves of exhales coming from his nose – like he was meditating.
“Drains the life outta ya, doesn’t it?” You perked, earning a jolt of surprise from Johnny.
“What ya mean?” He drawled, shrugging his shoulders.
“They’re energy vampires. I love them and all, but- sometimes they never know when to read the room. I guess I just- I mean to say you’re not wrong for feeling annoyed by it,” You gingerly walk closer to him, eyes adjusting to his face in the dim light. He was always at a distance, a stunning piece to commend. This is the closest you’ve ever seen him. You glance at his worn-out jeans, the car spark burn-holes in his t-shirt, the scars littering his arms. He was a solidified dream, flesh and bone carved by the Gods – a little rugged. You cross your legs and hug your arms, unworthy of his stare.
He couldn’t help but stare, too, soaking you in from head to toe – revealing your attributes hidden by flowy blouses and cotton flares on an average day. Your skin looked soft and plush. The dip in your thighs from the denim hugging close, snug on your hips. The bikini demanded his attention, and his stare was everlasting on you. A warm aura collided with your tense muscles, still and eager. You straightened your back and hugged your arms tighter, defining the curve of your cleavage. Johnny cocked his eyebrow.
“You wanna hang out? We can sit in my room” Your suggestion slipped through your lips. You were urged by the thoughts signalling in your mind to fill the hunger for his hands on you. To find somewhere quiet and colluded for your moans to become ballads.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Johnny took a step closer to you. He was tall, his head tilted, eyes peering down at you. Your small stature shuffled back, but Johnny only leaned closer. The broadness of his shoulders engulfing you, his figure like a shadow. He was thinking about your suggestion, burying your head into the pillows, having his way with you. But for the first time, he felt like following a moral code – to not fuck his best friend’s daughter. He’d grown close to him and even appreciated his presence as the father figure he never had. But he had also grown fond of how you look at him, tempting him at every chance. Your acts were desperate; he mused on stripping you of your innocent facade, letting his hands reveal your alluring nature. Nervously laughing, you divert your eyes, swinging your legs in motion to your bedroom door.
“Well- while the old ones talk your ear off, I’ll be in my room. You’re welcome to join if you like,” You bite your lip and bat your eyes before closing the door.
Johnny shuffled between your door and the stairs, hearing the laughter from outside and a record hitting play through your wall. Both sound sources tugged at him until he finally gave him, opening your door discreetly.
You lay on your bed, positioned with your feet kicking the air, your hands splayed over a book you were reading earlier. The music mumbled as Johnny slowly closed the door, leaning on it as his eyes scanned your room. It was a physical personification of you, small tokens of memories littered around. The walls are still a pale pink from when you were a toddler, yellow-stained from cigarette smoke. Hand-me-down furniture in the set of dark wood, coffee stains on the desk, dust under the wardrobe. Johnny’s lips tugged into a smile, “Cute,”
You gave him room to sit on the bed, discarding your book and leaning on your side. Johnny prompted his back against the headboard, his boots dangling on the edge, mindful of the dirt on the soles. He digs into his pockets for his pack of cigarettes and lighter, clipping his lips onto the dout of the cigarette and pulling it out. You gaze at his pout and the clicker of the lighter, mimicking his inhale to steady the gutting pounds of your heart. You inch your fingers towards him, and he passes the cigarette, allowing you to pinch it between your fingers and draw it to your lips.
“Why’d you start working with my dad?” You ask the question you wanted to ask for a long time, to know the beginning of it all. To better understand the origins of his presence being the demise of your contentment.
“He offered me a job, I took it,” He shrugged, taking the cigarette as you passed it back.
“And now you’re the best of buddies. How’s that going?” You slightly tease, smiling at the sight of his smirk.
“I know you’re his daughter and all - but he’s a fun guy to hang around with. Doesn’t bother me he’s older. I like hanging out with him, and he’s taught me a lot on the job.”
Johnny taps the ashes into the ashtray at your bedside, his free hand by his side, inches away from yours. His hard fingertips traced circles on your duvet. You slide your fingers closer, breezing your nail along his index. He observed you, studying your innocent exterior, suspicious of your insinuating eyes.
“What about me? Am I fun to hang out with?” Your face dropped as he slowly shook his head.
“Don’t…” His warning was clear, but his tongue scaled along his cheek, trying to hold back. You roll your eyes and sit up, looking him dead in the eyes.
“You’re not that much older than me, y’know. You don’t get to treat me like a baby just because you're friends with my family.” You got your point across, narrowing your eyes as Johnny held in a chuckle.
“How old are you, anyways?” Johnny drawled, his eyes flickering to your lips.
“Twenty-one. And how old are you? Twenty-eight, going on Fifty?” Your face was straight, but you chewed on your cheek as his smirk grew contagious. A firmness gripped your wrist, and your breath hitches, pupils dilating as Johnny pours his stare into you. As he sits up, you feel small again, his shoulders at either side of you, his hard look demanding your attention.
“I see how it is. You’re all grown up now, but mommy and daddy still think you’re their sweet little baby. Everyone thinks you’re so damn cute, you’re the precious little angel. And you’re just getting darn’ sick of it,” Johnny’s words form a lump in your throat, and you meekly nod. His lips close to yours, and your mouth gapes open as he leans closer.
He pulls away, smirking at your intentions, biting the cigarette between his teeth. You turn away in a huff, rubbing your hot cheeks. How embarrassing to be teased like that and caught out on your feelings. Johnny was relishing it.
“Go back downstairs if you’re going to be like that,” You say, trying not to trip on your words and stand your ground. Johnny deadens the cigarette into the ashtray, and his boots scrape against the hardwood. He squats in front of you, forcing his gaze on yours.
“I ain’t doing anything outta malice, sweetheart. What you’re tryna do would cost me my job. What would your dad think of me? What would he think of you?” Johnny places his hands on your thighs, running his fingers along your bare skin. You caught your breath. “But… I’m not one to play by the rules. And, well, that little outfit of yours caught my eye the minute I came here.”
Johnny hooks his fingers under the hem of your shorts, his knuckles digging under the tight fabric. Your back arches along with your legs slowly opening, fixated on Johnny’s eyes on your body. “My, you’re just too tempting…” Johnny breathes out.
“No one has to know,” You convince, “I won’t tell anyone. You’ll still have your job.”
Johnny places his hand on the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek. You realise how big he is compared to you, how his hand could cover your whole face or wrap wholly around your neck. His lips tug into a smirk as his eyes devour you, “Yeah, let’s keep this our little secret.”
You squeeze your eyes shut as his mouth strikes yours, inviting you into a rough embrace. A low, mumbled moan vibrates against his lips, causing him to chuckle. Immediately, his arms around you press you against his body, bringing your small frame into a cradle as he stands up. Your legs wrap around his hips, his hands gripping your ass and the back of your neck. The effortlessness of handling coursed through your mind, wondering what other aspects he can achieve. His initiation of power lends you your submissive state, and you allow him to spread your short frame along your bed, his broad shoulders on either side of you, and he props himself with his elbows. 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.
Johnny trails his kisses down to your chest, his teeth scraping against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. His hands caught onto your breasts, massaging into their warmth. His nose is buried into your cleavage, and you take the time to undo the back of your bikini, letting the fabric fall on either side of him. The strap tickles his ears, and his hands yank the rest of the fabric, his mouth latching onto your nipples, a drawn-out moan escaping your lips. You wondered how loud is too loud. Will people hear from downstairs? Taking no chances, you clasp your hand over your mouth, sinking into the bed as Johnny attacks your sensitivity.
“Lemmie hear those moans, little one,” Johnny said between kisses, “You sound so darn cute.”
There it was again. Little one. You feel your underwear drenched as you buck your hips, your pussy rubbing against the thin material. It only intensifies as Johnny lowers his kisses, catching sight of the damp trail pooling in your panties. “Fuuuck,” he breathes out, pressing his fingertips against your warmth, making you tense. Pleading with your eyes as he teases you, your hips grind against his touch, begging for pressure. Johnny was not one for pleasuring others, but the sight of your desperation and your sweet scent sent his actions into overdrive. His fingers pull down the thin, cotton fabric, abandoning it on the floor, spreading your legs to reveal your dripping cunt.
“Such a pretty little pussy,” He prompts your legs over his shoulders, exposing you. You mewl at your vulnerability, eyes locked on his fingers inching towards you. He groans at his fingers sliding neatly between your walls, gliding upwards to your gummy clit. His touch was light but enough to make you shift your hips lower. He grunts, gripping your legs and giving you a firm stare.
“I need you to stay still, baby girl. I wanna take my sweet’ass time with you, ‘that clear?”
You nod rapidly, agreeing to anything that involves him touching you. You mentally beg for him inside you, to fill you up with his immersive fingers, letting each one stretch you out and tighten at his touch. You wanted to feel his tongue toy with your clit, cum all over his mouth. But he wasn’t playing by your rules, and Johnny will do anything to make you beg.
Johnny idles your clit, making his touch lighter whenever you press against him. He chuckles at your defeat, your ass sinking lower into the bed, obeying him in hopes of pleasure. Johnny takes his time sliding inside you, one finger after another, his mouth agape at the sight of your stretching cunt. You yelp into your mouth, biting down on your finger as you ease into his touch, gasping as he pumps in and out. Your eyes widen at the feeling of his tongue rubbing against your clit. Your stomach tightens, your hands grip the sheets, and a sigh of relief escapes your lips.
The sight of Johnny’s eyes looking up at you was maddening, his stare dark and lustrous. His free hand holds your leg wide, having all access to your sensitive cunt. The tip of his tongue rapidly against your clit, sending a tight, pleasurable feeling to your core. His experience was unlike any other. It beat all the sex you had before out of the park. Your climax inches to finish, your moans pitching higher, mewling against your pursed lips. Then, he stops, the cold air hitting against your throbbing cunt, his tongue licking his lips.
“Why’d you stop? Please, I was so fucking close-” You protest, but Johnny already has his fingers on your lips, silencing you. With a firm hold on your jaw, he slaps your cunt until it’s raw, basking in your surprise. The way your small frame protests his touch amused him more than he liked to admit.
“Awh baby, I don’t want you cumming so early,” Johnny mockingly coos, rubbing the bulge protruding from his jeans, “I gotta have some pleasure too, y’know.”
You sit up, practically clawing at his jeans, letting his hands stroke your pretty face as you reveal his cock. Like his hands, his length reached over your face, his girth heavy against your nose. Kitten licking his shaft, Johnny chuckles at your eagerness.
“Who knew you were such a lil cock slut?” Johnny amused. It’s the quiet ones you gotta watch out for, he thought. His tip pokes your pretty little mouth, Johnny aiming entry, his head thrown back as you suck it gently in your mouth. He grips your hair, his burly strength pushing your mouth deeper around his cock. You choke as your nose tickles his base, gasping for air as he springs his cock out of your mouth. Once his cock is dripping in your drool, Johnny pushes you back, exposing your throbbing cunt to his erection.
Beyond the mist of lust, Johnny thought for a moment. His eyes scan you – your puppy eyes and puffy lips. His hands pressed down your thighs, exposing your entrance, his tip rubbing against your clit. He wanted nothing more than for you to be his tiny fucktoy. He undertakes, sliding his cock inside you, slow against your tightness, the pressure forcing him to stuff himself inside you. He watches as your pussy stretches around him, the way your stomach expands and reveals the bulge of his cock. He comprehends the size difference, how minuscule you are underneath him, and how in your stature you squirm under his force. You try to back up as he is halfway, your pussy choking on his cock, but he holds you in place.
“This getting too much for you, little one? Can’t you take all of me?” Johnny grunts in your ear, rutting the rest of his length inside you, smothering your face into the crook of his neck as you yelp. Burying his cock into you, he waits until you succumb to his length before getting back into position and pounding his cock in and out of you. The roughness to provoke against you sends mixed signals, your mind foggy and fixated on his cock. A jolt of pleasure fills you, his thumb rubs against your clit.
“Who knew daddy’s little girl was so cock-hungry,” Johnny teased, “A pretty thing like you wanting me to ruin this tiny pussy. Fuck, your dad’s gonna be pissed.”
He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his fingers never leaving your clit, watching you ascend into lust as he tells you how dirty you are, how he sees the way you stare at him, how you were asking for this. You thank him repeatedly, asking him to go faster, harder.
“You gonna make me cum,” You purr, your high coming close. Your words encourage Johnny to keep going until the opposite occurs. His fingers leave your clit, his thrusts burn into a slow rhythm, and you feel like screaming. A numbing agony takes over. You sob into his chest. Johnny forces you to look at him, witnessing tears fall. His edging came to a breaking point. Your orgasm is denied and torturous. You plead with him with your eyes, your lip quivering. His pupils dilate as you sob.
His thrusts are harsher as if forcing the tears to keep spilling down your puffy cheeks, grunts breathing out his mouth at the sound of you choking on your sobs. His hand wraps around your neck, pushing the air from your lungs, using every possibility to see you crying. You knew he enjoyed this, feeling him twitch inside you, your lulling eyes catching the perverted look in his eye.
“You keep doing that, and I’ll let you cum, baby girl,” Johnny promised, not caring how psychotic he sounded, showing his true colours. The creak of the bed intensifies as he drills into you, prompting him to pick you up in his arms. You instinctively wrap your arms around him, shocked at how flawlessly he picked you up, holding you like you weigh nothing. Your legs over his arms, his forehead pressing against yours. Mesmerised by the dark look in his eye, you silence your moans with pursed lips, astonished at your tender insides ruined by his rough thrusts. The tears keep streaming, the pain mixing with your arousal, your delicate cunt denied of pleasure, at his mercy for emancipation. Johnny kissed your tear-stained cheeks – a glutton to its salty taste.
“Such a good little pet for me, so fucking good,” Johnny mumbles, a belligerent on your ass, smacking you against him and grunting at the pleasure. “I’m gonna let you cum now, doll. Fuck – I want you to cum.”
You gasp in relief, repeating gratitude, the depths of his pummelling enough to bring your high from your ruined pussy to its release. As you speak and squirm, you cling to his broad frame, nails digging into his shoulders, suffocating your face into his neck. Johnny is unyielding to your cunt tightening around him, his length bathing in your wetness, an exhausted groan flowing from his agape mouth. Johnny holds your dead weight as you grow limp, lightheaded from the rush, but still able to keep you with perfect precision. Knowing his climax is approaching, Johnny slips your lame, small body off him, forcing you to his knees. You become alert in your position, held in place with your head directly under his pulsating dick, his hand firm on the top of your head, ready for his load.
Strings of hot seed stretch your face and hairline, grumbling curses from Johnny, the sight of you marked with his release clouding his mind— the residue hanging from your lips, relishing in his salty taste. Johnny smirks down at you. Even in his transition to clarity, you are a sight for sore eyes. “You look so pretty like that, little one,” he chuckled.
Both of you are quick to change, aware of the passing of time and the guests downstairs. Johnny helps you tie your bikini, brazing your tits for the last time before buckling his jeans. Cleaning the cum and tears from your face with a cloth, you gaze at him, fumbling with his belt, trailing your eyes along the perimeters of his body. Wondering if all of this was just another wet dream.
Johnny revised the excuse with you once more, “I was in the bathroom, bothered by last night's dinner. You were in your room studying. Got it?”
You smirk slyly, making Johnny cock his eyebrow. “You really want them thinking you were on the toilet for half an hour?”
Johnny rolls his eyes, “Better than them knowing I was fucking you. Unless you got another excuse, smartass?”
A smile erupts on your face, giggling under your breath. Your eyes look at Johnny, ready to ask about the elephant in the room. “Is this gonna be the first and only time?”
Johnny thinks about it momentarily, shrugging as he gazes down at you. “It can’t be too regular. But I would be lyin’ if I said I didn’t wanna see you again,”
You sit there bashful, the flash of shyness intensifying when he gently kisses the top of your hand, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. He had an edge to him. You discovered that in the trice, but it only heightened your infatuation with him. To be under him, in his command, you never felt more safe, excited, and thrilled by what life threw at you. The risk of getting caught, in any other situation, your good nature meets with anxiety. Johnny made it worth it. It was impossible to deny him. And Johnny could sleep tonight knowing he had you wrapped around his finger.
“‘Til next time, sweet thing,'' Johnny exited, winking before closing the door. You lay back on your bed, gaining your senses, the butterflies in your stomach still prevalent and consuming.
i got inspired by some exclusive jispooks nsft art of johnny and i self-indulged with a drabble. if they decide to post it on their socials i'll drop a link in the replies. for now, i'll let you enjoy this<33
tags: smut - minors dni. fem reader. orgasms. oral (f receiving), overstimulation. commando johnny. big dick. doggy. choking. spanking. exhibitionism. dacryphilia. degradation. rough. biting. bloodplay. 731 words.
“Wait- Wait- I said wait- Fuuck,”
You whine out your second high, legs shivering in ecstasy as you fail to keep yourself upright. Sinking deeper into the metal surface of the truck’s back, Johnny rode your high, pinning your thighs by your sides to devour your pussy to its sensitive core, his eyes studying you through dark lashes.
He insisted that you spend the night with him like this. His truck parked between dark woodlands, a diner’s neon light ambient through the tree leaves, where your eyes fluttered from lightheadedness. The lights blurred a visual glow of blue and red coursing through your body. Letting Johnny have his way with you, to give physicality to all those sly stares. Giving into his rough hands, groping your thighs under the table during dinner, the rough kisses in the parking lot, barely making it back to the truck before ripping your clothes off. It’s what you owe him since he took you out for a nice meal and was such a gentleman.
Granting you two orgasms was tactical on Johnny’s part. He wanted you completely numb, prepped for the growing hunger inside him. His jeans were tight, the bulge big enough to break the zip. As you mewled under his frame, he pinched the hem of his shirt between his teeth, unbuckling his belt and releasing his cock from the scraping restraint of his jeans. He sighs in relief, beckoning your hands to wrap around his cock.
“You want this inside you, sweetheart?” He growled, smirking at your rapid nods. “Want me to fill you up real nice, uh?”
He pushed his shirt to one side, exposing the jagged curves of his abdomen, his nipples hard from the outside air. He flipped you onto your front without warning, earning a gasp from you that was snuffed out by his hand wrapping around your neck. He aligns his cock up to your glistening cunt, entering with one swift thrust. Your breath hitches.
“Johnny fuck- It’s too big,” You were close to screaming, your fussing mixed with moans. You attempt to retreat, realising he isn’t entirely inside you yet. Your eyes widen.
“C’mon baby, you can take it,” Johnny teasingly cooed, “Arch your back for me, now. That’s it, good girl.”
Johnny pins your hips to the truck floor, keeping your arched back in place. His cock drilled deeper inside you with every thrust. You feel tears building up and dangling around your water line, and it breaks the waterworks when Johnny’s tip hits your sweet spot harshly.
“Fuck, please- I- I can’t take it,” You sob. Your cries intensify as Johnny smacks your ass, fixing his cock deep into your cunt and keeping it in place.
“Yes, you can, darlin’. You’re taking me so well,” Johnny's grip around your neck tightens, “You had your fun – don’t ruin mine.”
The tears kept falling as he fucked you, your body bracing his hench body leaning its weight down on you. His cock stretches you out, sending shots of pain and pleasure up your spine. Your sobs faded into quiet whimpers, but Johnny could still hear you.
"Fucking cry all you want, I'll keep fucking this tight cunt until I’m done,” Johnny taunted, grunting into your ear, “I want every motherfucker in that diner to hear you, see how much of a slut you are.”
He drills faster into you, gripping the soft flesh of your ass and digging his fingers hard enough to break the skin. Only near his climax were you beginning to adjust to his length, the drenched walls of your cunt tightening around his cock. Your mouth hangs open, and Johnny takes the chance to slide his fingers along your tongue, forcing them deep and making you choke. You suck on them hard, linking your gaze with his, catching a glimpse of that wild look in his eye.
“Fuck, I’m close baby. Fuck, fu-”
His cum coats your insides. Johnny ruts his hips to keep it all inside you. Your eyes roll and lull, utterly dumbfounded by Johnny’s mouth latched onto your shoulder, his teeth breaking the skin. He sucks on the blood pouring from the bite, colouring his teeth and pooling in his tongue. Your blood is filling his mouth, his cum in your womb, the cycle of transaction blurring the line between pain and pleasure.
