#drayton sawyer smut

[yourlocalcryingcryptid]

A MASH UP SO RANDOM IT CAN ONLY MEAN ONE THING ITS TUMBLRS SEXY SLASHER SHOWDOWN

[melodrama-ticcc]

— “ 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐥 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 ” ; 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐗

𝐀 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧

𝘈 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴.

𝙄𝙛 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨!

𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘺.

𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫. 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧. 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧.

ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ: ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃⁱⁿˢ ᵐᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉˢ. ⁱ.ᵉ. ᵈᵒᵐᵉˢᵗⁱᶜ ᵛⁱᵒˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵇᵘˢᵉ, ᵍʳᵃᵖʰⁱᶜ ᵛⁱᵒˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ, ˡᵃⁿᵍᵘᵃᵍᵉ ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ, ᵐᵉⁿᵗᵃˡ ⁱˡˡⁿᵉˢˢ, ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵘʳᵈᵉʳ, ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ʳᵃᵖᵉ, ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ˢᵘⁱᶜⁱᵈᵉ, ᵐⁱˡᵈ ᵍᵒʳᵉ, ʳᵉˡⁱᵍⁱᵒⁿ, ˢᵉˣᵘᵃˡ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ.

—

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞. 𝐕𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝.

—

“Dang nab it boy, lookit the dog gone mess you stirred up! And you, you aughtta get your side of the family under control! I ain’t seen a mess like this since them college kids showed up!”

“Don’t patronize me Drayton, I think I know to raise my boy.”

“Then why’s this always happenin’ on your side huh, and the hell we gon’ do now? Your boy ain’t know how to stay outta trouble. Johnny you got any idea the position you’ve put your brothers ‘n I in? Aughtta be ashamed of ya’ self.”

“Now now, don’t you worry Johnny, we’ll get this straightened out.”

“Like hell we will.”

“What I’d like to know my dear, is what that Payne girl from down the way was doin’ there with you.”

The room fell silent.

Not even a peep.

Only the muffled sounds of chickens broke that quiet, and still the three stared to one another expecting an answer from the other. Drayton a way to solve this mess, Nancy an explanation from her boy, and Johnny, who’d been sat right on the tattered sofa like he was just a boy.

“I know you lookin’ out for me, but I fail to see why that concerns you ma’.”

“Oh just wait till your grandpa hears ‘bout this one.”

“Now hold on a second.” Nancy extends her arm to Drayton, whose one word away from letting the entire family in on it. Nancy herself bubbles with aggravation, masking her rage through this bothersome tender mother act. “Oh Johnny,” she sighs, having the seat beside him with her hand placed tenderly against his knee. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten, family comes first baby. We can’t keep no secrets ‘round here, gotta make sure we know everythin’ to get this squared away. Now tell me, what’s this pretty lil’ thing doin’ out with you like that, hm?”

Perhaps the only time Johnny’s charm didn’t work was when it came to his folks, they never failed to see right past his guise. He knew better than to fool them.

“I was right when I told y’all ‘bout her bein’ like us, ya’ know? I got a, a real eye for these things. Lemme tell ya’.” He peers to his mother at his left, and Drayton cooped up on the right side of the living room. “I’ve known since that day they had us for supper ya’ know? The very second I saw her. She’s got a fine taste for huntin’, does a real good job of it too. Why, she might even love it more than me. See, she just learnin’ still.”

“If this ain’t hell in a hand basket I don’t know what is boy! You are out of control, now you out givin out information to everybody ain’t ya’!”

“If you did your job and ran this damn family like grandpa did, she’d be one of us already!” Johnny huffs. “She don’t know ‘bout us, just me. Been takin’ her out for weeks and she’s gotten good, we could use her.”

“I’ll be damned if I let my boy get taken advantage of by some lil’ hooker!”

“I’m tellin’ you, she like us. Have her over for supper you’ll find out.”

“You’re out of your god damn mind!”

“You can kill her if she ain’t. But I’ll tell you right now that ain’t gon’ happen.”

“I’ve had enough of this Bonnie and Clyde act, what’s got you’s so fixated on this damn girl?”

“She’s mine damnit, ain’t like nothin’ you’d ever seen before I promise you that.”

“Johnny you ain’t know what you’s talkin’ ‘bout! She’s, why she’s just some tramp! I mean come on.” Nancy can only scoff. “This is real silly.”

“Tch, just like them university girls you’s said was yer’s, the ones that damn near drove this family into the ground?” Drayton laughs at him.

Fury burns in him and turns him red, a frustrated grunt leaving his lips when he slams his fists against the coffee table and stands up all at once.

“I said she’s different! This one’s different!” He screams. “You’re a damn fool if you ain’t see it, this one’s different — she’s different!” He huffs, leaning in real close to Nancy’s face, still seated on the couch and laced with shock, fear, maybe. “And she sure as hell ain’t no damn tramp.”

“Enough.” The room quiets and Nancy stands. “I ain’t hostin’ no supper for some no good lil’ girl messin’ with my baby’s head.”

“Finally you say summin’ that does anythin’ ‘round here, now handle your damn boy.”

“Y’all really think grandpa ain’t gonna want to get s’more hands ‘round here, huh? Like your time ain’t runnin’ out?”

“What in the damned hell did you just say?"

“You heard me, cook.” He snaps. “Ain’t nobody messin’ with my damn head, specially not after what you did to me.”

Nancy’s expression fades from that of indifference to a look of betrayal and hurt.

“Now Johnny baby that ain’t no way to talk to yer’ mother.”

“I’ll talk to you any way I damn well please, just like you gon’ talk to me like I’m some kid. Well I ain’t no more, and I ain’t gonna sit here ‘n let you talk me outta this. She’s comin’ to supper.” Nancy’s countenance softens, sours, like someone had pissed in her cheerios for the last time. Some amalgamation of hurt and anger.

"I’m fixin’ to clean yer plow here soon. We do what’s best for each other, not for your lust. Gon’ end up in the shitter if we ain’t keep this place up tight.”

“You best watch yer mouth ‘fore I ring yer’ neck for even lookin’ at my boy like that.” Nancy coos, a fake smile hiding her heartache. “Johnny my dear, I trust you. Let’s see what this here girl is like, maybe we’re wrong.”

“You fool-”

“Tomorrow evenin’, have her over. Till then you ain’t get out so much as a foot outside that door you hear me?” Nancy storms out quietly, warranting a stark glare from Drayton who then goes back to Johnny.

“Now we aught to lay low. Yer selfish act costin’ all of us the good meat, we got scraps till this blows over and that’s that. ‘N you just wait, Nubbins’ll have your head when he finds out.”

—

“Rebecca . . . .” Worry laces his call, domineering her attention from the dishes to exchange glances with him from across the room, as he shuts the radio off and rises from his seat.

“Yes, daddy?”

“What’d y’all get up to last night?”

“Headed down to the diner in Pfluegerville for some malts and caught a movie at the drive in. The usual, ya’ know? Why do ya’ ask?”

“Curious, you’s never tell me what you two get ‘round to.” Raymond’s voice shakes, congruent with the anxieties that riddle his body. He had no reason to believe the reports made had been them, no matter how closely the description aligned with their appearance had. Johnny was a fine man, he was sure of it, and did a good thing keeping his girl safe. “That all, then?”

“That’s all daddy,” Becca laughs, too loud for his own comfort and he sighs.

“You think I’m lyin’?” She questions, astounded. “Ask Johnny then, he’ll tell ya’!”

Raymond has to take a step back, reigning in his thoughts and quelling the fears within him. It was foolish of him to believe such a thing, that his daughter and he comely partner had committed murder in an entirely separate way region miles away. He felt guilty, perhaps he’d not given the girl enough credit. It was all just some, peculiar coincidence.

“No, no, Becca I ain’t callin’ you that.” Raymond nods. “I believe you, I just like to check in. It’s a father’s right to make sure his baby’s safe now.”

“Yes well daddy, I’m quite safe, peachy keen you’d say.”

“Right, well,” reluctantly he does refrain. “Let’s just make sure we stayin’ ‘round the house instead of headin’ out every night. You still under my roof, after all.”

It would come as no surprise that Johnny neglected their staunch orders, for he always had a mind and manner of doing things according to his own agenda. Caution never did suit him either; there’d been a track record when it came to things like this. The Pfluegerville incident, what happened with Maria, those college kids that came looking for her, and now the case with the imbecilic drunkards from Cedar Canyon. The one thing that remained constant between them all was the way in which he deceitfully maneuvered his way clear of every single one; he hadn’t been caught once.

Due to the bold nature of his work it was only expected they’d come across these complications, none but Drayton had ever done what Johnny had. While they’d wait for prey to come knocking on their door step, he went out hunting. A provider and a damn good one; and even they were not the same. His family would only ever understand it as that; a family affair. They’d hunt for survival and that was that, where, he took great pleasure in killing, hunting them down and watching the life drain from their eyes whilst he strangled them to death. It was no wonder the frustration bubbled and stuck out like a sore thumb, that with the loneliness that would be accompanied by it.

The mockingbirds sing a mawkish song to the storm clouds that sweep in from the north sky, their bolsterous heads an ominous omen in the distance. Fall had settled into the air, the summer heat fading to a soft warmth and then, cool. The winds would blow in, picking up the reddened leaves of autumn and dusting them over the hills to form a crimson sea. They brisk against the dirt and kick up dust, crisping faintly as they get caught in the brush where the tumbleweeds too would bung to the thorny exteriors of sickly bushes. He can hear the crinkling of those leaves from the inside of the truck, just feebly, when he pulls to the front of the Payne estate. It’s there that the air becomes still and the sugary songs those birds once chirped become deafened by the heaviness that fogs the place. Thick and muggy, as though the area itself had been swallowed up by a musk that wreaked of depravity. With it the sunshine fades in the cloak of those thunderheads, there’s a storm on its way.

The hollowed knock he lands on the front door falls on deaf ears, so there is a second, and a third. All harrowing sounds which go unanswered to further perpetuate the persecutory void the pensioned estate had adopted so peculiarly. The wait imparts annoyance from Johnny, who’d never been considered a very patient man. Thus the inclinations to go poking his nose about the place with a somewhat disquieting phenomena burgeoned in the low of his stomach. He decidedly moves to wander towards the pasture out back particularly certain he’d find his objectives buried up to her chin in work. There the gloom outstretches the earthed hills, cattle grazing on grass in the midst of the shadows and nothing but hay bales and hills as far as the eye could see. There he finds Raymond, busied with a preparatory work reinforcing the fences in the fields. He must’ve seen him, for he’d gestured his head Johnny’s way the way he typically had and kept on with his work. He’d only traveled about half way before Raymond called out, rather bluntly.

“If yer’ lookin’ for Rebecca, she’s up in ‘er room.” There’s a stagger to his canter, one that leaves him stopped in his tracks. “Been up there since breakfast. Think she’s upset I told ‘er to stop goin’ out so much.”

“Mind if I check in with ‘er? Don’t mind comin’ to help out afterwards if it’s a problem.”

“Be my guest,” Raymond motions his hand towards the house. Only veering his vision up from his work when Johnny pivots and begins walking back that way. “Say uh, ya’ heard ‘bout those brothers goin’ missin’, out in Cedar Canyon last night?”

He slows, then halts again, a tick tocking in his head as his brow raises. He peers just over his shoulder, able to make out a blurry image of Raymond watching him incredulously.

“Pardon?”

“Ah, nothin’, just summin’ I heard on the radio.”

“Must’ve missed it.”

“Right. Say uh, where’s you ‘n Becca run off to last night?”

There’s a moment of shared silence, and it’s then that Johnny turns to face Raymond in what he could only understand as repudiation. He was suspicious.

“Same as always, sir. Just that drive in out in Pfluegerville. I’m sure you understand, she’s got a real passion for those movies. Tells me she’s loved watchin’ ‘em with you at home.”

“Ah, good.” Raymond smiles. “Just makin’ sure, she’s still my girl after all.”

“Yeah well, she’s a real fine woman.”

“Right.” Raymond stands with a grunt, hunched over nearly. “You go in and speak to ‘er then, and uh, here.” Raymond traverses laggardly, fishing a five out of his pocket and handing it to Johnny. “Say uh, you two go ‘n pick me up sum’ more of them nails.” Raymond tosses the box into his hand. “There’s a storm comin’ in, best to get these sturdy now ‘fore it gets here. Take the truck, keys are on the stand by the door.”

“Sure thing,” Johnny nods his head ploddingly, then he’s on his way back toward the house with a less than ebullient expression. One that’d look sour milk if given the opportunity.

The house is quiet, so much so that the sound of the front door shutting behind him echoes about the chamber. Still silence, the eery and portentous kind.

“Darlin’?”

The cacodemonic sound phases through the home and back to him, and it’s just when he’s about to head up the stairs of the foyer she appears, like a grim shadow in the corner of the graveyard, Ghoulish and Cimmerian. The viscid black sullied over her eyelids and cheeks like soot shadows her beauty. Those pretty features veiled by the severity of her mania.

“Yes, dear?” A desolate gasp for air fuels her quiet call.

“Well lookit’ you,” Johnny muses. “Your father sendin’ us into town for some supplies, best we get a move on now.” It seems futile in that moment, the method of which she agonizingly scales down the steps to him; as though she were an apparition in its desolate descent to hell.

“To town?”

“Look I know it ain’t ideal, but sooner it’s over sooner we can lay low, let’s get on with it.”

“Right. I take it you’ve heard it then, the radio? They got us huh?” She reaches him, slow and laggardly as she comes to rest her head at his chest. “Johnny boy, they saw. I, what’re we’re to do?”

“Tch, come on darlin’, this ain’t my first rodeo. You think I ain’t end up in this kinda pickle before? We’ll be just fine.” The steady hand on her back nudges her forward. “Let’s just get this on over with so we can put it to bed.”

Silence was bliss, except for when it was filled with the incessant anxieties that plagued one’s head. His affirmation hadn’t been taken at face value, and the thoughts that troubled her prior had only begun to swell. Sitting in the passenger side of that old truck, with nothing but the empty grasslands to distract her. His ignorance was her hell, and she could only hope to find some solace in raising her concerns once more.

“Ya know, daddy asked me ‘bout last night I, I think he suspects summin’ of us.”

“I know,” he sighs. “Asked me ‘bout it too.”

Rebecca turns to him, shifting in her seat quickly for his response had stirred a whole heap of worrisome thoughts to further pick at her insides like vultures.

“Oh god he knows it, what’d you tell ‘em? What if we told ‘em summin’ different I, Johnny, what’ll we do?”

“Would you settle the hell down? You’re scatterin’ all over the damn place.” He warns. “I ain’t told him any different than you, only added onto it, aight?”

“Surely you don’t know that.”

“Darlin’, let me worry ‘bout these damn things and just focus on lookin’ pretty. You got that?” She can hear the annoyance in his voice, the aggravation begin, and she takes that as a warning to cease for the time being despite her growing sense of dread.

She settles, still wary and bug eyed when she flips the radio on in an attempt to ease those thoughts. The thoughts that, despite her forlorn efforts tore down her every sense of stability and peace, she couldn’t know for certain. And, until he could prove that to her she wouldn’t find peace. Especially when every station had the report blaring, while she vehemently clicked through radio stations in search for an escape. It seemed no matter what she’d done, the consequences of their recklessness had followed.

The hyper awareness of that damned mistake, toppled with the blaring radio station in the old hardware store downtown had made her to belief they were done for. Shaking there beside her boy, partly clinging to the bend in his arm while she look about like a lost puppy. There, where the eyes of the shop clerk stared into the back of her skull and the few patrons seemed to have their eyes peeled to her every which way.

“Johnny . . . everyone is starin’.”

“Shut the damn hell up would you?” Johnny quips back, causing her to recoil into him. Her eyes still looking sporadically between the three others in the building.

It had seemed like the entire world was against her, when the eyes of many wouldn’t leave her in peace and the radio inside the station began blaring about the same old story, the one they’d so carelessly created last night. That had been enough, enough to push her over the edge and spill the tears hiding behind those eyes. She hits Johnny’s arm, shaking it and pulling and anything she can to get his attention and draw him out.

“Johnny they got us- we gotta go they know they all know.”

“Go sit in the damn truck and shut the hell up.” He shoves the keys into her, an act that has her stumbling back and clutching them to her chest. “Go on, go!” His loud voice only draws more attention to her, more eyes, and when her own gaze makes eye contact with the others in the room she scurries out like a scared little mouse. Clumsily and pathetic, throwing herself into the truck and bringing her knees up to her chest. It was all over, they’d been had.

“What in the damn hell is wrong with you? Makin’ a scene like that?” It wasn’t until Johnny had climbed in yelling that she realized he’d done it just fine, nails in hand. “I told you and I told you, there ain’t no god damn thing to bitch about. Quit your whinin’ and get on with it.” Perhaps he should smack her he thinks, to quell her irrationality.

Aggravation bares an ugly head in him, feasting at his frustrations. She’d not comprehend the grievance of their situation, at least not how he did. She’d make it out to be some big thing, but for Johnny it was a nuisance, and the longer they sat there twaddling with their thumbs the more indignant he became. The frustration turns to virulence, then his face goes red with lividity. His patience wearing thin there is little attempt to withhold his harsh words, she’d know soon enough.

Even as he drives the truck off the main road and back down the way they came she shakes in her place, eyes red and wide, and limbs weak and heavy. It’s as though the world around her spins; she feels nauseated, sick, in a blind panic. It’s then that she begins to cry, silent and painful tears. And Johnny he says nothing, despite her silent calls for help and his callous attitude, speeding the truck down the highway and scrunching his face up in a less than gracious manner.

“They gon’ catch us, ain’t they?”

“I’ve had enough of this god damn act you hear me?” His scream pieces the metallic interior, causing her cries to become vocal. “I ain’t gon’ tell you ‘gain, we’d be just fine if you shut the hell up already.”

“I can’t! Not when they out there lookin’ for us and everybody knows just exactly what we’s look like Johnny, damnit!”

The truck jolts forward when he shifts it into park, and he only stares forward, not making eye contact.

“Go inside and figure out whatever the hell it is you need to shut up while I go on ‘n get these to yer’ pops.”

“Johnny?”

“I said now damnit!” His yell is the last warning that sends her inside without another peep, before he goes off looking for Raymond. Whose leant up against one of the rotted fences out back sipping on some ice cold sweet tea.

“You find ‘er?”

“Yeah, she’s all right.”

“Got them nails?”

“Right here sir,” Johnny plants them in his palm. “Listen uh, got summin’ I need to ask you ‘bout?”

“Go ‘head boy. If you’s askin’ to take ‘er out again tonight my answers no. Needs to stay in ‘fore that storm gets here.”

“Nah, my folks uh, they’d like to have ‘er over for dinner tomorrow night. That all right?”

There’s a long pause, hesitance.

“Dinner huh?”

“You’ll have to excuse my mother. See she’s real skeptical ‘bout Becca, just wants to get to know ‘er is all.”

“Normally I’d say yes, but,”

“Please, sir,” Johnny sort of chuckles. “It’s real important to me, I promise I’ll have ‘er home early if that’s what it takes.”

“Mm.” Raymond hums, thinking. “She ain’t been home much lately, ya’ know?”

“It’ll be a few hours, at most, not more than yer’ out here in them fields. I’ll pay you back what I can in labor. Though I’d do that anyways.”

“All right Johnny,” Raymond sighs, clearing his throat of the sugar from that tea. “Best hope you ain’t disappoint me.”

“You got my word, sir.”

The house is quiet when Johnny recenters, impatiently searching for a troublesome Rebecca who emerges down the stairs with a distressing visage. Viscid black sullied over her eyelids and smeared rouge over her cheeks and nose, she hyperventilates like she’s hard of breath, gasping for air like she’d been strangled.

“May as well run if they gon’ get us, we gotta run!” She screams, clutching onto her messed head of hair. “Run like hell! Now now! We have to go!” She pleads with him, met with a stoic impression by him.

“Now don’t go talkin’ like that on me. You sound pathetic. You give up that easy?” He quips back instantaneously, coming up those steps to meet her midway up the bannister. It’s there her blackened, tear-stained cheeks seem muddy and bedaubed. An angry red peaks out through the smeared makeup, as though she’d been galling at it for some time. “Quit your cryin’. Ain’t no use whinin’ now. We got bigger problems.”

She begins to cry, quietly, her gaze avoidant and peeled to the ground her feet stood over. Those weeps become more and more hysterical, as she clings to the skin of her cheeks for some sort of relief. “I can’t- Johnny, what’re we gon’ do? It can’t end like this, no, it can’t!”

The feeling is anomalous, uncustomary; and yet she feels as though it is normal to experience such a strange sensation. Nobody knew just how deprived one became when their way of life was threatened, and the solitude of their lives became compromised. It felt as though the world itself had ended there, as though Christ himself had come to judge them all and yet he did no saving. For the feeling was real and uncouth, viciously tearing apart all that she had come to love. In its wake a coarse, hollow body in mourning. How pitiful, she might believe those words. Maybe she was pathetic.

“The hell did I just say?” There’s a sharp incantation in his pitch, one that thwarts her head from her mind and draws her to him. His eyes watch over her like he’s studying, an attempt to pull together the pieces and gather his messy thoughts. Then his roughed hands reach to her face, clasping either side of her cheek and staring a hole into her. Straight through those frightened irises and into the darkness that had taken her and plagued her with such terrors. “You aught to learn how to get these thoughts of yer’s under control, shit, just shut up a second. That report ain’t nothin’, station’s pumpin’ those out all the time cause ain’t shit else goin’ on ‘round here. Don’t mean nothin’, we just lay low for a while and everythin’ll blow over like it never happened.” He’s watching her with a fervent intent, one evident in the way his eyes peruse her for signs of doubt. His thumbs glazing over dampened cheeks in a feeble attempt to rid the black smeared about her face. His stern voice quiets to a hushed, more subtle tone. One that matches the touch of his fingertips against her velvety skin. “Actin’ like this ain’t my first time, tch. Come on now darlin’.”

Her lashes flutter open and her sight fixates on him, then, languidly her arms stretch from her face to his. A trembling palm, clammy skin pressed against the sharp line of his jaw. Her hold is a weak and pitiable one, and her whines of desperation shameful. Then she quiets, a polarized decorum haunted by the uncertainty of their fate. Blue eyes wide and wet with fear and lip quivering.

“I don’t too much like repeatin’ myself but perhaps you ain’t hear me.” Johnny is angry, his voice deplorable and cruel. The forceful handful of hair he takes between his fingers and tugs toward his lips sends a sharp sting to her scalp. Met with an ireful groan when she winces into his hold. “Quit yer cryin’ and show me your damn capable, not just sum’ painted up bitch. I said we’d get it straight and ‘less you don’t trust me, and, ha, you’d better trust me, this lil’ pity act of yer’s better get cleaned up real quick.” Each word as cruel as the last it bites, teeth sinking in to create an even deeper wound. She yelps, and in the slew of their shared words she wastes no time in throwing him off of her. Her apoplectic guise becomes her, boiling blood pinks the tips of her ears and makes her hot. Her eyebrows arching down to a furious grimace. It seems she would always forget how angry he made her, how downright loathsome he would become. How his impatience and temper ignites her own and turns her into something she despises. The incensed and shameful, the downright disgusting. Johnny’s back collides with the wall, a thundering sound in its wake. The frames and decor hung so neatly shake and tremor. The collision sending a photograph crashing down to the steps, the noise of shattered glass ringing in the entryway.

“Would you shut the damn hell up!” Rebecca screams, a feverish appearance overtakes her once solemn features. Her limbs still shake, only now with the adrenalized presence of her fury rather than mourning. “Don’t ever speak to me like that, I told you and I told you.” Her hands clench to fists, waning at her sides for the words to leave his stupid mouth.

They were eyes he hadn’t been on the receiving end of in some time, ones enraged with rabid madness and incurable choler. Scrunched up the way they did when she was riding the fine line between composure and a blown temper. It arouses him, gets him so excited he smirks some deviant way. Only this time the looming presence of their little fiasco far outweighed his willingness to play along with her charade.

“Stupid bitch.” He grabs her arm, sending her scrambling to fetch up one of the broken glass shards as he drags her up the stairs despite her protests. The wood edges bang up her knees and shins, grunts of pain and groans leaving those bitten lips. As they reach the top of the bannister she sends the glass blade sinking into the skin of his arm, prompting his grunt and release. She wastes no time in stumbling away from him, leaving him to pull the thing out and clench his arm whilst the blood drips down it.

There she stands, legs widened and hunched over at the end of the hallway where her figure is outlined by the white light that shines in through the window. She breathes erratically, huffing out through an open mouth and seething in her indifference.

“I don’t like too much repeatin’ myself either. For a man who prides himself on respect he don’t do too much to earn it from me. I told you and I told you, quit speakin’ to me like I’m yer’ dog or I’ll cut yer’ tongue out yer throat and you’s ain’t gonna talk at all!”

“God damnit, you done pissed me off now, we got bigger things to worry ‘bout you know that?” He saunters over, not before she’s grabbing the lamp off the stand in the hall and using it to throw at him. “You real keen on me teachin’ you a thing or two, so here’s summin’ to take note of.”

Just as she turns to flee he grabs her wrist, yanking her backwards and into his arms when she trips over her own feet. There he holds her body to his, a hand pulling back that hair with a firm grip. She cries out in pain, her fingers clinging to his wrist as she winces. Thrashing her body about to loosen his hold does little to relieve her position. Especially as he wanes into the crook of her neck and laughs.

“Don’t start summin’ you can’t finish, darlin’.” His whisper is sickening, that and the hot air he breaths to her neck. The scratchy fondle of his chapped lips scraping at her, with his teeth that nip and his torrid tongue. Her vain efforts dwindle, fists pushing and clawing at anything she can reach. In a desperate attempt to create a gap between them and sever him from her. Regaining her footing she kicks her leg forward, followed with a swift knee to his crotch.

He lets go, leaving her to crash against the wood floors flat on her back. Both she and him wince and groan, writhing around in pain like fools. She has not one spare moment to recover herself, before he’s on top of her and she’s screaming at the top of her lungs. It isn’t then, no, it’s when he uses his strength to pin both her wrists down beneath him that it floods in. All the times he’d so senselessly fucked them, had he thought her no better?

They flash about her vision like a picture show, and as her exasperation nears its peak she’s hopeless for any sort of salvation. Still kicking and screaming, thwarting around her body like some squeamish little thing.

Rancor consumes her when he presses a messy kiss to her lips and he frees his arm just to grope at her. It’s a long enough opening for her to reach for the shard of glass, fumbling with it for a moment before grasping it tightly. The ragged edges dig into the skin of her palm, procuring blood from it, the sharp sting the edge she needs to do such a thing. Her fist comes crashing downward with a purpose of vengeance, the sharp tip stabbing into his back again, and again, and again. Until he buckles over her and gives her leeway to wiggle out of his hold. She’s freed herself, shuffling to her feet just to kick into him. His scornful grunts and expressions leave him in a state of shock, weakness, for Becca kicks him to his back in time to straddle him. Her jeaned thighs on either side of his torso, she holds the makeshift blade to his mouth shakily.

Her body rattles with emotion, her eyes the keeper of her heart — and the bitter feeling of betrayal that leaves her heartbroken. Tears prick at them, forming a river that graciously falls down her stained cheeks.

“Gimme one good reason,” she huffs. “One damn good reason not to sever that damn tongue so you ain’t ever speak to me ‘gain. Or better yet, let’s slice off them damn fingers or cut you up and bash yer skull in god damnit Johnny boy.” She holds her stature over him, watching him puff out hot air and catch his breath. When he only laughs she screams something incoherent, pressing the knife into the corner of his lip to draw blood. “I’ll do it god damnit I swear!”

“You wanna reason?” His question is met with a look of disdain, horrified by his blatant ignorance. “Cause both you and I know a damn good reason girl.”

A nasty sob that leaves agonizing cries to elicit from her pink lips, as she drops the blade and hangs her head in defeat. Love, love was a pertinacious affair.

Rebecca gets to her feet, not so much as sparing him a glance when she turns her back to him and begins walking towards her room. Johnny soon gets up, examining carefully the newly acquired scars and wiping the fresh blood from himself.

“Clean up this damn blood, ‘fore your daddy gets in here. I got the glass.” The back of his hand smears the blood over his mouth and cheek, and he has to spit to the ground to keep from swallowing it.

Johnny only sighs, looking to her with a cynical sort of expression, as though he were trying to figure her out. His brows raise, and for a second he looks mean. That is until he remembers being in the same place she was. Afraid, shaken up and alone. Before he just couldn’t understand why she didn’t get it, and it still fired him up for it was just as much as nuisance as it was annoying. But then something made sense, for he’d again seen the pieces of himself imbued in her and was reminded of why she was so unique.

There came a time where Johnny had been the outcast, poked fun of by his family and made to feel foolish and pestilent by his own mother. He’d never forget that day, for the scar that gouged the left side of his face would never let him. He resented mother for that, for robbing him of that freedom, a chance at normalcy that wasn’t so confining.

“And for heaven’s sake get yer’ self presentable! I’m takin’ you out!”

Devoid of emotion, numb, as she sits petrified in the passengers seat trying to make out something of what had happened. It lets itself play over and over again, and she finds herself reliving the experience. Her body still shaking, hands still balled up into fists. Her eyes are wide, the residual tears still staining the reddened skin around her lashes. Hastily done makeup does little to mask it, only makes her seem like an old porcelain doll.

They’re both silent, the only sound filling the cabin that of the wheels against asphalt coming in from outside. She thinks he’s heartless, not checking in on her after such a ruckus and leaving her to grasp into scraps. Her palms hurt, gashed open by the glass; the dried blood of both of them still coaxed into her nail beds. She picks at them, finally some movement in an otherwise motionless car ride.

“You really hurt me, ya’ know? Makes me think twice ‘bout everything you’ve said.” Her doddering voice breaks the silence, her eyes unmoving from her own hands. “I was scared of what might happen, us bein’ caught. I ain’t ever done this kinda thing, you gotta understand.” She is met with uncomfortable quiet, his stare unyielding from the road.

“You pissed me off, should know better to watch yer mouth and listen as I say. I told you we’d be fine. Now what we gotta handle is the fact that yer’ daddy is awful suspicious of what we been up to, and my folks ain’t to keen either. We’re in a real shit show there, I told ya’ we aughtta lay low for a while ‘n stay in and yer’ pops had us out runnin’ his errands. Top of that, family wants you’s over for supper tomorrow night. You need to learn to get those thoughts under control and listen, cause while you’re havin’ yer way I’m tellin’ you how it is. I ain’t hurt you, was yer own damn fault.”

Searing tears prick at her eyes, her face souring. She sniffles, gasping for air and throwing her face in her hands.

“I’m sorry! I ain’t mean to make such a mess of things.”

He remembers being so distraught running off to the back fields while dusk set in, clutching at the wound on his face and wallowing in his own shame and pity. There was no one there to save or comfort him then, no one to explain or help him understand. Instead, pure and unbridled rage and despair at the hands of his insufferable mother. He remembers collapsing to his knees as the blood spilled from his face and into his hands, staining his jeans and the white t shirt that clung to his skin. The scene that played before him was just that, a mirrored image of himself. Whilst he too sobbed helplessly into his hands.

That had been the last time he cried, displayed such a weakness that could be exploited by those around him. He never wanted to give her that power, so he buried it and acted as though it didn’t bother him. The birth of his disdainful love and hate.

It’s funny then, as just thinking about it made him feel those same feelings, made him feel the tightness in his skin, the burn of his wound, the searing brand her hand left upon his face. He could feel it then, the indentation of his past and the ugly it left over his once unscathed facade.

Within those passing moments his gaze softens as it watches over her, and maybe then he feels a pang of empathy and guilt, one which he pushes so far down he’s nearly choking on it. Fixing his eyes back on the road as they narrow in thought, the sound of her cries fading in the static of his brain. Whilst he preferred to leave her to her own devices, he found it uncomfortable to sit idyl whilst she battled those feelings of illegitimacy and fear, loneliness.

Begrudgingly he sighs, a hand carefully reaching for one of those hands in place of her face.

“It’s alright,” he doesn’t stagger from watching the road, and after removing the hands from her face does his find it’s place back on the wheel. “I’ll fix it.”

For a moment there’s silence, whilst she dries the tears from her cheeks and tries her best to remedy sullied makeup. Trembling with a strange cultivation of feeling, but if the calm in his voice is any indication of solace, those worries are quelled. She’s partly shocked, that he’d calmed so quickly, as though he saw her agony. Only the right turn he makes off the highway pulls her away from her thoughts. There he pulls off to the side of a shabby old gas station boarded up and rotten, a typical mom and pop convenient store advertising Texas barbecue and Coca Cola on its edifice. There’s a large plot of land out back, fenced in by barbed wire and rotten wood planks. Rebecca only looks to Johnny, a questioning look behind her glossy eyes.

“Relax, thought we could make a date out of this ‘n get some pop. ‘Sides, this is the old man’s place.” He stares ahead, putting the truck in park and moving to hop out. Then he saunters off in his usual manner, coming up the passenger side to pop the door open and caress her chin with a calloused hand. “C’mon darlin’, let’s say I treat you.”

Johnny would never admit it, that he felt some type of way about what had happened. That he too could relate to that same scared, secluded feeling. Instead he’d rather fancy her up with miscellaneous little things, make her feel like he wasn’t so uncouth.

For a moment she watches him, his suave smile and calming voice. And she can all most forget the fact he’d so blatantly overpowered her and ignored her pleas. Perhaps that was a part of the reason he loved her so much, because she didn’t just sit and take it. That idea simmers, the same type of estranged feeling she elicits when she’s yearning for the men to beg and plead and cry, and even fight back. And all the things Johnny’s said, about liking the chase. Only she was still around, a part of her could reconcile with that fact. So, she smiles, clasping his rugged hand as he helps her out of the truck like he always did, strolling in casually with her on his arm like some trophy. All which is met with Johnny’s ecstatic grin and sense of relief, and an pleased “that’s my girl.”

She wasn’t half as surprised to find Drayton waltzing up to the front door to greet them there, Johnny with a fiery look Rebecca could only describe as heinous. Something wasn’t quite right there, for when he looked to her it was as though his entire demeanor changed back to the lovable old cook.

“Nice to see ya’s, how’s you and that old man of ya’s doin’? Fixin’ to see this storm I reckon.”

“Mighty fine seein’ you too sir, we been doin’ just fine. Daddy’s out fixin’ them fences right now. How you been?” There’s that certified one of a kind smile, faker than the front Drayton and anybody else put up.

“Ah, works work. You two come on in and get you’s sum’ lunch.” Drayton’s smile fades when he looks to Johnny, instead a grave look overtaking his features and a hasty tone in his voice. “Your cousin’s in there, back home ‘till thanksgivin’, oh and uh, I ‘ready filled ‘em in on yer’ lil’ problem.”

A nasty scowl on his face Johnny groans and pushes past Drayton, swinging the front door open and stomping in there without another word. There the scent of smoke and meats radiate about, a deliciously sweet scent that has her stomach growling. Still attached to Johnny’s arm, she follows him about whilst looking the small room up and down. Not much but the smoker and some old shelving and benches, and the red headed mullet sitting up against the smoke room door. He doesn’t say much, just grunts and makes a pointed gesture towards Johnny who seems delighted. The biggest grin over his face and an eager nod.

He’s a large man, easily towering over both she and Johnny. His clothes are something out of a rolling stones magazine and his hair kinked and greasy. There’s a mean look to him, angry, and even the sounds he makes seem displeased. Rebecca can only smile, watching Johnny as she waits for his call.

“Well I’ll be, lookit you! How ya’ been?” He’s like a child excitedly trying to make friends with the cool kid on the playground. She’d never seen him so elated, desperately trying to show off. “Got someone I’d like ya’ to meet.” That sentence snaps her away from her thoughts and calls her attention to them as opposed to his words. He pulls her forward, to which she obliges and smiles graciously.

“This is my girl, Rebecca. She’s uh, been a real jewel ‘round here.” Her introduction is met with a crude look from the man, who leans forward as if to examine her and nods his head in acknowledgement. All before leaning back up against the creaky boarded wall. His arms plant on his knees and he looks to Johnny, not a word, just a slight hum.

“Rebecca, this here’s my cousin Hands, he’s one of ‘em truck drivers, been out on the road for weeks. Real funny once you get to know ‘em.” He pulls her forward, showing her off like a toy and snaking an arm around her waist. It would be a shame if she didn’t relish in it, just like she had been, an overwhelming sense of accomplishment blossoming in her.

“Pleased to meet you sir, any friend of Johnny’s a friend of mine.” Sweet southern tongue pretties her words like icing on a cake, and despite Hands’ lack of words and acknowledgment she offers her hand as a sign of respect.

Hands looks at her hand, long slender fingers with painted white tips. It takes some time, but he finally moves. Reaching into his pocket to fish out some old trinket and placing it into her palm. The silence is loud, but she kindly looks to her palm to find an old coin that had been pressed through one of those old penny presses. The design untidy and choppy, on it is a scrounged up image of a man who faintly resembles Johnny, one which she was half sure he’d done himself.

“Well I’ll be,” Johnny cuts in, taking a look at the smashed penny in her hand. “Ain’t that somethin’,” Johnny nudges her with his elbow. “Means he likes ya’ darlin’!”

“Ain’t it?” Becca grins. “Real nice of ya’, mister Hands. Johnnys a fine young man, I bet you’s aughtta be real proud of ‘em.” Johnny steps away, removing himself from her to head towards the ice box and grab a few bottles of pop. To which her gaze lingers, not before snapping back to Hands with a smile. “Ya’ know I bet you and my Johnny got lots of memories together, can’t imagine what he was like when he was just a boy. Guess you could say I’m real fond of ‘em ya’ know?” Her attempts at small talk are left on deaf ears, for Hands only grunts and groans or hums in responses leaving her to awkwardly smile and nod. That is until Drayton steps back in and looks to her with a knowing expression.

“Say uh, Johnny tells me you’ll be joinin’ us for supper tomorrow, grandpa’ll be real excited to meet you ain’t that right boy?”

They each exchange a look of disdain, Drayton towards Johnny and the other way around. Glaring holes into each others head whilst Johnny takes three of the cold Coke bottles and tossed them onto the counter.

“Oh yeah, he’ll be real fond of ya’ darlin’.”

“Boy ain’t ever brought a lady home for supper before, must be gettin’ real close eh’?”

Left out but not oblivious, she’d be a fool to think something wasn’t afoot between the two. That with their less than enthusiastic attitudes toward one another and the sly words which injected Drayton’s words. Instead of feigning innocence she politely plays along to their game, making it clear she was no stranger to this coy act of his and more than anything proving herself.

“Oh yes, matter of fact I was just tellin’ Hands I’m real fond of ‘em, and don’t you worry daddy thinks he’s real nice too.” Rebecca turns round with a grin and moves to Johnny, grasping his bicep knowingly. “Ain’t that right dear? Now, shall I bring a pie? I’d love to help anyway I can. Real kind of you folks havin’ me over and all.” She looks up to Johnny, already staring back at her with a wild grin. Her attention diverts quickly to Drayton with a snap of her head, Johnny watching her with a proud look.

Drayton is unusually disoriented, fixing his own head on pulling the barbecue from the smoke room. The ebullient chuckle that falls from Johnnys lips only rubs salt in the wound, and while Drayton responds to Becca’s offer with a slight nod and a hum, distracting himself with the cutting of meat bits whilst he glares through Johnny.

The sound of the blade against the wood of the cutting board and the soft cracks of open bottles of pop sound the air, as Johnny passes a bottle to first Rebecca, then Hands and finally one for himself. If his distaste for Drayton wasn’t clear then, it was abundantly apparent in those moments. Much of their lunch was spent that way, with Drayton’s passive aggressive comments towards Johnny and their mischievous banter. Rebecca found herself at the center of the old man’s soured mood, and her innocent enough but coy smart ass comments only made matters worse. It sure did keep the shit eating grin on Johnny’s face nice and wide, though.

“Well, I’d be lyin’ if I said you ain’t have a fine talent for cookin’ sir, I’d love to get the recipe sometime.” Rebecca stands, taking the plates from the three men and moving to wash them in the dingy sink off to the side. “Thank you very much for the treat, I’ll have to pay back the favor.”

“Oh no need, nice surprise havin’ you stop on in, slow business today. You tell that father of yours hello and tell ‘em not to be no stranger. We’ll see ya’s tomorrow, stay safe in that there storm.”

“Oh yes,” she smiles, putting the dishes up to dry and wiping the wet hands against her jeaned thighs. “Of course, have a good afternoon would y’all?” She’s met with Johnny at the door, who escorts her out before getting a smack to the back of the head. Half enraged he turns around, clutching the back of his skull as he stares to the old cook.

“Your mother’s gon’ have a cow ‘bout this one you nitwit.”

“Watch your mouth old man, I’ll make you eat those words.” Without another word does he shove the door shut, marching out to where Rebecca leans up against the truck with a pleased expression.

“Rebecca Payne, you’d like a honeysuckle full of poison, you know that?” His jubilant smile brings one to her own face and she laughs, shaking her head as he greets her with his hands at either side of her waist. He leans into her, a freed hand coming to swipe at her ear. “Sweet and deadly, just how I like it.”

“Well I’m happy to please,” she teases, a hand glued to his chest and the other pressing at his chin when she forced him to look at her.

“I bet you are.” Johnny’s tall frame hangs over her, closing her into the cage he’d formed around her. It’s hard to say no to him, to object, when his hand is at her hip and lips against her mouth. One of the many things she felt naive in, and helpless, when his mouth would traverse over the tender skin of her neck and his touchy hands would snake under the warm skin of her blouse. It’s nearly there, at her breast when she grasps at his wrist. Her head tilted up as he prods at the pristine and untouched skin over her collar bone. Soft and warm, velvety, not like the cold and dead ones he was so used to.

She wishes, partly, that he’d have her right there. Yet, guilt festers in her like maggots to decaying flesh, stopping such lustful desires in their tracks and picking at her gut. It’s just hard to say no, when his body is pressed up against hers and he leaves bittersweet bites over the plains of her body. Rebecca’s values were always strong though, as was her desire to remain pure, so when her grip on his lingering wrist tightens she instructs him to stop. Her free hand pushing at his jaw, holding it there, forcing him and his handsome mug to look at her.

“No, no,” Rebecca coos out, a whisper, plagued by the pleasures he so lavishly laid onto her. “You know me, guess you could call me old fashioned. I prefer those older values, traditionally, it’s more special that way.”

He’s annoyed, as seen in the way his hands ball into fists and he huffs. He watches her, grasping her wrist and pulling her hand away from his face. Instead he presses it to his sickly sweet lips, watching her through it all.

“Fine,” he hums. She’s right, there’s something special about having the forbidden fruit, taking something that wasn’t allowed. Maybe that’s how she was different too, she wouldn’t give it up so easily, and she was, she felt, different. Special. Impulsivity was written in her nature, as is clear when he grasps at her throat, not enough to harm her, just enough to pull her forward. Close enough for his lips to graze her ear, for his fingers to dig into her flesh. “Let’s say this; if you were mine, my wife, what would happen then?”

Rebecca can only laugh, finding his silly little hypotheticals unserious and teasing. She shakes her head, despite his fingertips pressing into the smooth matter of her neck. She flashes a toothy smile, and she feels his hold loosen when she hangs her head.

“Did I stutter?” His staunch tone causes that smile to fade, and he’s now holding her head up much like she had done to him. She can’t tell, if he’s angry or simply serious. Either way, he had captured her attention. “I need to repeat myself? I told you I ain’t like that.”

“Johnny, please.” She breaths out. “I don’t take these things lightly.” It’s a warning, anger pitching in her voice out of fright, fearful he might’ve been acting a fool.

“What makes you think I do, darlin’?” He pulls back, his hands each falling to hold her waist. “What’s stoppin’ me from marryin’ you one day, you?”

“I ain’t say yes.”

“But you would, wouldn’t ya’?” Johnny smirks, thinking he has her feated.

“Not unless you gave me your word, that you truly cared for me,” she looks to him with all seriousness, steadfast, all most a glare. She leans into him, her hands resting over his chest the way she liked so much. She’d eye him up and down, battering her lashes and resting her head atop one of the hands she’d laid over him. “And that I’d be the only one you ever, ever kept alive.”

He holds her in silence, in thought, while he pieces together her conditions and considers what that meant, how it effected him, and everything else.

“Rebecca Payne my word ain’t taken lightly.” He groans, flustered. It’s an oddity, how he cannot begin to think of another, someone who’d beckon to his will and call or do anything to please him, any other worth keeping around, worth bringing into the hell that was this family, any one who’d make being there just a little more tolerable. He found every part of it deplorable, the way she’d so easily infected every inch of his mind, his life. How little she had to work for it, how much he felt tied to her. He hated the way it made him feel, the fact that he felt at all. Despised the bludgeoned feeling of not having the control over someone, the ability to play with them like they were his food. He couldn’t fathom the idea of killing her, no matter how much he would’ve liked to. If he wanted to rip her apart limb by limb he couldn’t, couldn’t strangle her and watch the life leave her pretty blue eyes, couldn’t even tear into her with his favorite knife. The worst part of it all is he hadn’t the slightest clue why, and no matter how deep he buried the emotions they’d choke him out each time he saw her. It was why he felt so angry, so pent up, so different all at the same time. And he couldn’t figure out why it was he felt so futile, whenever she came about with her homicidal desires and her prim and proper intentions. She was just too much, too much like him. He was staring back at his own reflection, and he was too much in love with himself to salvage it.

“If I gave you my word?”

“Then I’d say yes.” Rebecca smiles, planting a kiss to his lips which he can only return with great satisfaction. His own chapped ones moving against hers soft, with intensity and roughness her own tender touch lacked. He kisses her, and there’s a time where the insatiable appetite for human flesh subsides, and he can forget about his family and the endless killing and blood and guts, he can forget about what his mother did to him, he could even forget how much it tormented him for all these years and the neverending pit of loneliness this life had condemned him to. It all fades away and there, just the passionate feeling of her skin against his can not just numb but take, take it all away. What was left was something lively and whole, a warm light that never goes out.

The second she pulls away he’s reminded of those things though, and his bloodlust floods in ten fold. Where he craves the hunt and the slaughter, and he can see it in her too. The desperate look in her eyes for something sickening and disturbing. He can only smile at her for it for he is the same, and then they go on their way.

As they made their way back to the farmhouse on the highway, they each found themselves in an overcrowded heap of their own baggaged thoughts. Johnny silent, trying to sort out those uncomfortable and isolated feelings and Rebecca, considering his uncharacteristic display of emotion and what it meant to become family.

“You’s got alotta family, huh?” Rebecca wonders aloud, her eyes peeled to the clouds forming in the distant sky.

“Summin’ like that,” responds Johnny. “Just got alotta cousins, that’s the way it’s always been.”

“It must be real nice,” she muses. “Havin’ a big happy family like that, I always wanted to have one of my own. Momma just . . . it just ain’t work out that way.”

“It ain’t always easy.” His calloused hand finds a home on the top of her thigh, warranting her attention. “Most of the damned time we ain’t see eye to eye, fact I ain’t too much like bein’ home for too long. We just got eachother’s backs, is all.”

“You mean you don’t like havin’ all that family?” She shifts her body to face his. “What’s it like Johnny boy?”

“Nah,” he sort of chortles. Then he pauses, thinking. “My family, to them, that’s the most important thing in this life. Family. We was raised with a certain respect for that, no matter our differences. It’s grandpa who ties us together, keeps the family goin’, you’ll see, we gotta whole lotta respect for that man.”

“He loves y’all, then?”

“Yeah sure, summin’ like that.” Johnny shrugs. “It’s just the way things are, it always been that way. I ain’t too much like the way my mother and the old man like to run things but I go ‘long with it any matter. We got a pretty good thing goin’, they say.”

“You ever want a family of yer’ own, Johnny?” She ponders, watching him with doll-like eyes, a certain innocence to them. “I wanna be a momma one day, better one than mine ever was that’s for sure. Settle down with a real man in a big pretty house, with children runnin’ a muck, a big happy family. Like yours, I reckon.”

Johnny chuckles, watching her and the genuine smile that forms on her lips.

“I got family ties I ain’t get rid of, that’s where those loyalties lie. Always has, always will. Guess you could call me a family man.” Johnny shakes his head. “I gotta protect ‘em, provide for ‘em. If I ain’t do it no one else will.”

In awe she smiles, looking over him with some newfound respect and admirable affection. His sense of dignity and loyalty to such morals would closely tie into her own, making the feelings in her stir. Perhaps she’d felt like the world had brought them together for that very reason, like the lord above had made him just for her, that this was fate, they were meant to be. It was that that excited her, made her eager to pursue and cater to his every need, do all that he asked of her and then some.

“I think that’s mighty fine of you, Johnny boy. You’s a real man.”

Thunderheads still cloud the sky when Rebecca shows up on the doorstep to Black Nancy’s home, a quaint blue house with a beautiful front garden abundant with flowers. It was there that Johnny would greet her with a neutral look in his eye and a half-assed kiss, ushering her into the loud foyer where the echoes of his family could be heard bickering with one another.

“Listen uh, there’s summin’ i aughtta tell you ‘fore you come in here meetin’ grandpa and the rest. You seen the brothers before, ‘lot of ‘em ain’t all there in the head. Can’t give too much into what they say, and as for grandpa well, you just be that charmin’ southern ‘gal I know you to be and it’ll be just fine.”

“You reckon I better introduce myself ‘gain? Ain’t wanna impede as rude.”

“You leave that to me.”

It’s with a boisterous smile she follows him, to the right of the foyer where the kitchen and dining table sit. Drayton and Nancy are muttering obscenities to one another under their breath as they prep the meal on the stove, the burners making the interior of the home warm and stuffy. Then at the table the rest of his peculiar family sits together, giggling and whispering to one another as they eagerly anticipate Johnny’s words. Nubbins sits on the far side next to what she can only assume is Bubba, now dressed in a navy blue pants suit adorned in a feminine mask that dons some messily accomplished makeup. And beside him a woman who she has never seen before, a frail girl with blue eyes and light hair tied back neatly. Her sharp features are striking and her little polka dotted dress rides up a little to high for Rebecca’s liking. Though she seems faintly familiar, her gestures something reminiscent of something Rebecca had seen before.

Then at the near side sat Hands, who looked just the same as the day prior, fidgeting with some gadget on the set dinner table. His grunts were easily drowned out in the noise of the kitchen, that and the scratchy groans of the elderly man in the rocking chair at the tables head. She presumed the crotchety looking old man had to be Johnny’s grandfather, or what was left of him, for he seemed partly diseased. His skin pale and puckery, void of any color or movement. Even his shrouded eyes looked partially lifeless, the only sign of life had been the faint rise and fall of his chest and the lewd sounds that fell from his open lips. Still she smiled, her housewife act overtaking her judgemental gaze with a pretty smile and persona.

“Grandpa I got someone here I’ve been waitin’ for you to meet.” Johnny’s voice calls the attention of everyone in the room, commanding their eyes with delighted silence. Even Drayton and Nancy take the cue to turn back round and watch the ordeal, as Johnny saunters over to his grandfather with his trophy as his side. “This is Rebecca Payne, her and I’ve gotten real close.”

“Now Johnny Sawyer I-” Nancy’s vicious tone is cut off by the gentle words of Rebecca, who frees her right hand from the pie she’d brought to extend it out to the wrinkly.

“Delighted to meet you sir, you done a real fine job with this young man.” Her charismatic charade is interrupted by the outburst of laughter that it earns from Drayton and the three at the far side of the table, one which goes on for some time and causes the smile to falter from her face and her hand to retract slightly. She can only look around clueless, then to Johnny whose look is soured rotten. He takes the pie from her, walking over to slam it against the kitchen counter.

As the laughter dies down Nancy speaks up once more, a fake grin of her own directed towards Rebecca’s presence.

“Real nice of you to join us girl, why ain’t you take a seat. Supper’s all most ready.”

“Thank you for havin’ me, miss,” Rebecca nods. “Anythin’ I can help y’all with? I don’t mind one bit.”

“No, no,” Nancy hums, now turned the opposite way. “You’re our guest now, sit.”

“If you insist. Thank you, miss.” Reluctantly Rebecca takes her seat, leaving the space between her and Hands for Johnny presumably, whose still cooling off from his families’ insult. One which she’d still found herself cautious of, and somewhat perturbed. She can only brush it off for the time being, playing the game until there was chance to open conversation.

Her cautious stare carefully removed itself from her Johnny and Nancy to across the table, where she is met with the wolf stare of the woman seated across from her. Once more she smiles, gesturing her head that way.

“Pleased to meet you, names Rebecca.” The girl beams with excitement, and despite her off putting stare smiles and nods her head.

“Well hello! Aren’t you just a doll. Wonder how Johnny managed to lure you in, he ain’t ever had any girl stick around long enough to eat dinner with us. You can call me Sissy.”

“Well,” Rebecca only laughs, the wheels turning in that brain of hers in an attempt to piece together the strange family dynamic between the ragtag group. Their words, their mannerisms, their behaviors, all of it seemed so surreal and artificial. “I’d ask myself the same, but he just real at takin’ care of me is all. Been real kind to me, believe it or not.”

“Hmm,” Sissy hums in response. “So where he been keepin’ you?”

The manners of which Sissy speaks in, as though Rebecca were a prisoner chained to Johnny’s beckon and call, one of his little whores, a victim, it’s a striking concept, one Becca can only brush off as misunderstanding. He must’ve not said much to them, for he hadn’t said much of his family to her either. Presumably for good reason, as they’d all seemed like backwoods hicks.

Still she’d respected them, or at least tolerated them. She cared not particularly what they were like, just that they take a liking to her. That she was impressive and obsolete, the finest young woman they’d ever like for their Johnny to be with. If they were to be family, she’d like to like them, too. So despite her charming smile and charisma, her intentions were not entirely shallow. She did care, about as much as Johnny cared about keeping up appearances with her own father.

“Dang nab it girl quit talkin’ nonsense.” Drayton chimes in.

“Your real pretty you know,” Sissy looks away from Drayton and back to Rebecca, her change in topic sudden. “With that long blonde hair.”

“Y-yeah, looks like one of them girls in the pictures!” Now Nubbins pipes up, rising from his seat whilst Bubba hums and rocks too and fro.

“Why like a movie star even, say, you sure you ain’t in any of those lewd films girl?” Nancy’s comment is laced in bitterness and spite, even the insinuation sparking Becca’s anger to pique in the pit of her stomach. Her face falls and her brows crook downward.

“Pardon me?” She’s nearly in disbelief, why would such a coy little bitch insinuate such a ludacris idea. “I’m no harlot, if that’s what you’s askin’.” She spits back with just as much spite and venom. Disguised by the innocent canter in her voice. “My daddy raised me right, I’d rather be caught dead then loose my morals miss, with all due respect.”

Two women, sat on either side of the room with maleficent gazes fueled by predation, leeching off one another’s acrimonious and defamatory clauses. Acting catty was below Rebecca, and she’d been sure to make a point of that. It’s in those moments though that it becomes clear something isn’t quite right, about this family of his, and his caustic mother. She makes a pointed stare to the woman, her eyes narrowing as she watched that bitch with purpose and strategy, trying to figure out just what it was was going on beneath these people’s facade.

“Right.” Nancy muses. “Johnny baby, why ain’t you come have a seat at the table.”

There’s some lull to the conversation then, even as Johnny sits beside she and Hands at the table. A piercing silence overcomes the home, seldom for the thunder that punctures through the evening sky, and the lightning that follows in quick sporadic flashes out the window. The approaching storm had been the only thing to fill that void, that is until Rebecca’s benevolent smile returns in a quick attempt to lighten the mood. She decidedly takes the high road, presenting niceties and focusing on her perfect persona in order to get in good with the others. The precious little housewife act was her saving grace, the sole thing she could fall back on in tests of true poise. And here was just that, handling the deplorable hosebeast of a woman Johnny dare called his mother.

“Say Nubbins, been leavin’ them traps alone for ya’, catch anythin’ good lately?”

“Oh yeah, real good. I-I got some pictures too uh, you wanna see?”

“Boy you ain’t showin’ pictures of no road kill at the table, put them damned things away.” Drayton huffs, not before he’s serving bowls of chili to each member of the table.

“Oh I don’t mind, really.” Becca replied.

“You ain’t no fun, cook, tch. I uh, I got my camera here instead I, I take real good pictures. Johnny’ll tell ya’, yeah, real good. You want one?” Nubbins’ response is met with some grave countenance from his elder sibling, followed by a slew of mumbles. Something about beating him upside the head after supper was had.

“That’s real kind of ya’.” She smiles. “I’d love to see yer pictures sometime, I’ll have to come by more often. I’m sure they’s lovely. Johnny ain’t tell me you was a photographer.”

“Oh yeah,” Nubbins grins, his crooked teeth muddied with brown bits of grime and decay. He brings the camera that had been hung around his neck up to his face. “H-here, smile!”

A soft chuckle falls from her pretty lips, and she smiles gently in time for the flash of his camera to go off. The photo prints, and he excitedly wraps the it up in some crinkled piece of tin foil.

“Sissy, is it? That dress of yours is real pretty, you make it ya’ self?”

“Oh, why thank you sug’! I did. Got a machine and everythin’. Say, you got a sewin’ machine at home?” Sissy asks, resting her sharp chin against her palm. “I love makin’ clothes, be nice to have another girl ‘round here who likes makin’ frilly things.”

“My momma taught me how to sew some time ago, still got her machine cooped up somewhere. Ain’t made nothin’ in a long while. I’m helpin’ daddy out in the fields when I’m not homemakin’, ‘spose I forgot what it was like to have a hobby.”

“That’s a shame.” Sissy sighs, “You can use mine, I think you’d find it real fun!”

“Oh a real shame,” Nancy hums. “The fields ain’t no place for a young lady, ain’t no wonder you got all them muscles. Why, someone might lookit you and think you’s a dyke.”

“I’m sorry?” It’s caught her off guard, and her flagrant stare moves to pierce the smug eyes of the woman across the room. Her sly, cuntish smile.

“Oh it’s just, a woman’s place is in the home. My Johnny needs a nice girl like me to take care of ‘em, be a homemaker, you understand.”

“Now ma’.” Johnny hushes.

The way her ugly voice and patronizing attitude digs into the skin irks Rebecca, and it takes every bit of self restraint to keep from lashing out at her like she had Johnny all that time ago. It’s clear then where his brutish behaviors came from, and it was no easy beast to feat. Collecting herself, keeping her composure, she inhales a sharp breath. Her vexation building and face becoming hot with upset. Johnny must’ve seen it too, for he placed a hand against her thigh in an attempt to keep her grounded. Something her fiery temper proved to be increasingly difficult.

“Well a home needs to be built, and it sure as hell ain’t built on sewin’ n’ cookin’ alone. Now if you’ll excuse me, may I use your washroom?” Rebecca, as poised as ever, calmly responds and rises from her seat.

Her gaze meets that despicable woman’s satanic smile, and then she feels rage.

“Go on ahead love, down the hall last door to your right.”

Hurdled over the white porcelain sink both hands grip either side of it, heaving shaky breaths from her parted lips whilst she glared at the reflection of a mangled, fragile mess in the mirror.

“Fucking bitch.” The growl leaves her mouth lowly, a sullen scowl formed over her once coming features. She has to bite her tongue to keep from letting it all go, battering that cunt’s head into the oak table over and over again until she was unrecognizable.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been in there, nor how long she’d left the water on the faucet running. Time then seemed irrelevant, for everything was sped up and slowed down all at once. As if the world around her was moving in slow motion and she one hundred miles per minute.

It’s when there’s a knock at the door she’s pulled back into reality. Feeling the flesh gripping cold glass and the sweat dripping down her hot face. Fuck. It’s happened again, and it was all that abomination of a women’s fault.

Quickly snapping her head towards the sound and turning the faucet off, the echoed sound of water down the drain fades and she calls out. “Yes?”

“It’s me.”

The lock clicks and the handle turns, opening the door laggardly to Johnny. He’s taken a lax position lent up against the door frame, eyes flicking up to meet hers as she watches from below through painted lashes.

Your mother’s a ungodly old crone and a reprehensible host.

He’d must’ve seen the putrid amount of revulsion in her, for he smiled and laughed. Fixing the strands of hair that had gone astray and stuck to her face, he pulls her chin beneath his fingertips.

“Why ain’t you come on back and join us, keep that beautiful head of ya’s screwed on straight a lil’ longer, aight darlin’?”

She’d realized then just what had happened, where she was and what was going on. His touch quells her vexation, and as a result she’s beaming with pride and delight. A vibrant pearlescent smile domineering her face as she eagerly nods.

“Oh yes, anythin’ for you dear.”

It’s the same veil she brings to the dinner table, reseating herself and making a point to lock eyes with each and everyone of them, saving the old hag for very last. Meeting her prideful smirk with a delightedly unsettling and toothy grin.

“You’ll all have to forgive me.” She pauses. “You’ll find I’m not myself when my dear momma is mentioned. Oh I miss her so dearly, now, where were we?”

Aside from the rocky beginnings of her introduction, the entirely of dinner remains lax and civil. Small talk is made between she, Sissy and Nubbins, with Bubba occasionally replying with an excited nod or some abhorrent sounds she couldn’t make out. Johnny tuned in from time to time, but hadn’t much to say, his focus was with Hands. When it wasn’t, it was on observing Rebecca’s every move and word. Drayton and Nancy would ask questions, and Rebecca would respond with a souringly sweet response. Meeting Nancy’s blatant attempts at ruffling her feathers further with the most idyllic and perfectly crafted answers she could muster. At some point, the brothers had fed the grandfather from an old bronzed bottle of what looked to be emulsified meat.

“Dinner was real nice, mister Drayton, that chili was the best I ever had.” Becca rises from her seat, collecting the tables polished dishes and silverware and taking them to the sink. “You’ll have to give me the recipe sometime.”

“Oh well,” Drayton laughs sheepishly, “there’s no secret, it’s all in the meat. We- I got uh, a real fine eye for prime meat.”

“I’ll have to repay the favor one day, oh, maybe we’ll have you folks over for Thanksgivin’, wouldn’t that be real nice?” She smiles, and takes the initiative to wash the dishes with her back turned to the group. When no one can see her, when her mien is hidden and shadowed with the dark of the night coming through the window does her visage fade, forming a demented and twisted face full of hate and lividity.

“Y-yeah! Real fun, huh Bubba?” Nubbins laughs, matching Bubba’s deep and disoriented giggles.

“It does sound just lovely, Johnny wouldn’t mind that one bit.” Sissy clasps her hands together.

“Well now, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.” Nancy hums. “Becca, sweetie, don’t you worry ‘bout those dishes will ya’? I’ll take care of ‘em.”

“No, no,” Rebecca hums. “I’ve finished.” The faucet shuts off and she turns back round, her expression some odditied cross between the devil and and angel. Her chin tucked in and her brows screwed downward. Her eyes are half lidded as she looks to Nancy, an eery smile painted over the lower half of her grimace. “Please, my name is Rebecca, miss.” Without dropping her line of sight she retrieves the fresh cherry pie she’d made just before heading over, holding it with both palms.

“Say Rebecca,” Nancy muses, having her seat adjacent to grandpa. She dusts her hands off against the apron tied around her waist. “What ever did happen to that mother of your’s? I don’t recall your daddy mentionin’ nothin’.” A volitional look of scrutiny hides behind those glazed, cloudy eyes of hers. A narrowing state with a coy little smile. It’s ironic, in some ways she’s just like her son once was.

The mention stirred her, for the whirlwind of thoughts that swirl about shakes her up, hearkening back to the day she’d watched porcelain shatter over heads and bedside lamps cause blunt force trauma. The day she watched her mother and that dastardly boyfriend of hers scream at one another like wild animals, ripping eachother apart while they scrambled to protect themselves against their demise. The blood and the bits of flesh, the smell of iron and the tears.

“Oh, momma?” Rebecca looks ahead, stoic, pale, as though she’d just seen a ghost. “Well, she died just a little over a year ago now. We was livin’ back in Oklahoma when I found her.” Events of the past still bounce about in her head; walking through a bloodied and mutilated massacre. Her bare feet against soggy shag carpets, trudging through gallons of blood and brain matter. The house had been torn limb from limb, coaxed into a sanguine picture of the horror and macabre.

“She uh-,” she feels faint, blood rushing up to head and painting her face bright. And her ears, burning with anger and resentment, as she feels her body sway and begin to shake. Her eyes grow wider, just before they narrow and she looks down to her hands, seeing the blood pull in them and drip over her lap where the body lies. She clenches them, laughing madly in the mess of it all. Knelt onto the ground in the middle of a uxoricidal entanglement.

“She deserved it.” Rebecca smiles, in a frantic and awkward sort of way. Clenching her bloodied palms into fists and clasping them together. Then she laughs, shaking her head. She can no longer feel it, her limbs trembling and body swaying. Her head no longer spins, but her consciousness is quick to catch onto the hell she’s stuck herself in.

“I’ve brought a cherry pie, still warm from the oven. I’ll go ‘head and get you all a heapin’ slice, why don’t I?” She snaps around, hot tears pricking at the cusp of her eyelids. She had tried to be the bigger person, she truly had, but it was when wenches like her stooped so low she’d need to put a bitch like this in her place.

“Oh please, yer’ Johnny’s honored guest, let me take care of this.” Nancy rises from her seat.

“No, no. Sit.” Rebecca removed the dirtied knife from the counter, bits of raw meat and drippings still tainting it when she cuts into the pie. Once more she’s turned round, face cold and void of the sugary sweet she’d once presented. Into it, she cuts seven slivers, saving the eight chunk for the lead woman of the estranged family.

“Sit. Back. Down.” Rebecca warns once more, her voice now threatening, a warning of sorts. Nancy does not oblige, only pushes further.

“At the very least-”

“Sit down and do as your told, sweetie.” Rebecca’s body stirs in its place, the cut pie placed neatly in the palm she holds up near her head and the other at her side, tightly gripping the handle of that rusted knife.

It is met with astounding silence, and awed looks from all but Drayton and Nancy. Even grandpa, whose stare settled onto her with a faint groan. It does little to stop her, though. Rather, it fuels her incessant need to have her way, to prove herself to her Johnny, to not let bygones be bygones.

Her frightfully deviant expression says it all, too. Beady eyes wide and pupils shrunk, they stare a void into all. The twitchy, faded smile of a crazy greets her audience with a discomposing ambience.

“Excuse me, young lady?” Nancy’s fury struck the room like lightning to the great state of Texas. “I’d advise you to watch yer tone with me.”

She says nothing, instead, carefully carves out each sliver of pie with the muddied knife and cautiously places each helping onto the bare table in front of each character. She takes her serving on the knife, leaning over the table and tossing the large hunk of pie left in the tin to Nancy’s place at the table. It lands with a piercing sound, bouncing bits of cherry filling up to splatter over the flowery fabric of the woman’s dress.

Nancy is astounded, as is their table mates, watching between the two eagerly with worried thoughts. Her image is somewhere between animosity and shock, with Rebecca’s words and unsettling display digging the grave six feet under.

“Eat. It. Up.” Blazing blue orbs deadlocked on the crone’s on the opposing end of the table, it was only a matter of se ones before Nancy herself blew her top. But Becca can only laugh, finding amusement in the pissing contest she’s so gloriously won. I’m a celebratory fashion she pulls the knife up to her lips, licking up her share of sweet and red cherry pie off the knife.

“That’s it! I’ve had ‘bout enough of this, get the hell outta my house!”

Akin to a deer in headlights she froze, as though a bullet had shot right through her, rattled her to her core. In that moment she’d felt shame, failure, a slip that was not meant to happen. And for it, she loathed Nancy more than she ever had Johnny, more than she detested her own mother, more than any stupid boy that ticked her off.

“Get out! Out!” Nancy hollers, and if it hadn’t been for Rebecca’s father she’d of tried to kill her right then. “Johnny get this rotten lil’ brat out of the house!”

“No, no,” She vehemently shakes her head, as he approaches her with caution. “No!” She holds her hand out, those hot tears searing her cheeks as she squints.

“Darlin’, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“What?” Then there’s hurt, pure brokenness and helplessness. The break in her now softened voice gut wrenching to some, the rest of the family out of their seats as they watch in delight. The laughter of the boys drowns in the heap of her anguish, felt betrayed by the only one she’d known to be on her side.

The fight in her fades, when Johnny takes her arm to escort her out with not so much as a word. No, the moment he’d taken the side of his mother so hellbent on making her look bad. So she is a ghost, a shell of a woman who does as he pleases, following him when the world is moving around her in a still motion.

She turns her head to watch the loud scene of the family, rowdy and out of their seats and yelling over eachother in disarray. Some watch Johnny and how he has her by the arm, some seem timid, some bicker with one another, and she can only watch like an outsider looking in.

It isn’t until they’ve made it out to the drive way’s gate, down the windy gravel path through the garden, that she’s realized all that’s happen. When the pouring hot rain sizzles against her warm reddened skin and the lightning flashes across violently about the sky. The same burning tears still stung her eyes, and Johnny had begun to look over her with some mug, and she still felt the shame, regret, a forfeited sense of control. As the storm breaks out in unbridled chaos, with it, the fragments of calm that had been keeping her glued together all that time.

“Johnny?”

He only smiles, he can’t help but find the amusement in it all. Watching his mother get riled up about his choice in women and Rebecca’s intoxicatingly sweet bite back.

“Listen, darlin’, this ain’t personal. It’d be best if you’s went home.”

There it is, the sting she’d been looking for. Her body quakes with emotion, weakness, a hurt pride. Like she’d been fooled, just a pawn in his little game.

“How dare you.” Her voice low and broken, she looks to him from below through shrouded vision, blinded by tears and smudged makeup. “You told me I was special, not some stupid girl!” She screams, slamming her hands into his chest. “Do you have any idea how much of a fool I looked? A hoodlum? Huh?” She backs away from him, spinning around and throwing her head into her hands as she cries. Shaking fingers peel themselves away from her eyes, watching him through her tunnel vision. “I hate you!” She lashes out to him before collapsing to her knees in the dirt. “I hate you so fuckin’ much!” Between strangled sobs she screams into her shaking hands, watching him with his back turned to her whilst he makes his way back up the drive and into the house.

“So fuckin’ much.”

—

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭! - 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

@yixxes @bdudette @nerdykat101 @kaymarnun @casually-in-love-with-madari

If you’d like to be added to this taglist for future chapters, please feel free to let me know!

[cemetery-sunset]

Master Of All My Lists

🧛🏻‍♂️TWILIGHT

🦌RED DEAD REDEMPTION 2

🍖TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE

🤡THE FIREFLY TRILOGY (coming soon)

⏳UNTIL DAWN (coming soon)

[atomic--peach]

Halloween Special Slasher Smut Master Post.

Most are complete but Lunar Madness is still a WIP

[azazelflare]

Drayton Sawyer x Waitress. I’ve had this dynamic on my mind all day. Do with it what you will.

Car Sex

Drayton x Waitress Reader

Drayton had been watching you since the beginning of your shift. Ever since That guy threatened you a few days ago, Drayton would sit drinking a Coke or a Coffee, watching you work. When you finally clock out he comes up and wraps his arm around your waist. He leads you to his truck and opens the door for you. 

"My gentleman." you smile at him. He lets you get settled and closes the door. He moves to the driver's side and gets in, starting the truck. He puts a hand on your thigh and rubs it. He moves up and feels your core. you try to smack his hand away, telling him to focus on the road. He moves his hand away driving off onto a dirt road. He parks and says,”Darlin, you in that damn uniform has got me goin. I can see your nipples when you get cold under the AC. Come on, we’re goin to the bed.” He gets out and opens your door. 

You unbuckle and get out, following him to the back of the truck. He picks you up and sets you on the tailgate. You move back as he jumps up, you lay back and see that he’s hard, if the tent in his khakis is anything to go by. He unzips his pants and starts to look you up and down, releasing his erection. You lick your lips seeing him and sit up to give him head. You move to your knees and take him into your mouth, his hand finding your head and guiding you on his shaft. 

“Mmm baby, just like that, you’re so good at this.” you suck harder when you get to the head and then take him into your throat. He moans loudly and grips your hair. You bob your head and when he feels like he is close, he pulls you off. 

“As much as I wanna cum on that perfect face, I don't want this over yet.” the older man tells you to lie down. He kneels down, hands coming to grab your feet.  He starts by kissing your right ankle, he moves up your legs until he reaches your clothed core. 

“Well, this won’t do.” He pulls out his pocket knife and cuts your panties off, The cold metal touching your heat. You moan at the feeling of the metal. He moves down, bending over after throwing his knife to the side. 

He slides a finger through your folds and smirks at the wetness. "Damn if I knew I could get ya this wet I'd have teased ya during your shift." You blush "Drayton stop, if ya do that I won't be able to focus." He bends down and licks your core, you bend up toward him and grab his head. You pull him closer to you, he starts eating you out like you are his prized chili. He sucks on your clit and you let out a loud moan, hoping that the cops didn’t hear it.

You feel yourself getting close, he pulls away and you groan. He nips at your thighs and licks the bites. He scratches your legs, moving up and smiling at the sight of you. He sucks on your thighs and leaves hickeys on them. You know that they will be seen tomorrow. He moves up your body and positions himself on top of you. He thrusts into you biting your neck, and he pounds into you, his balls slapping your ass. He starts to grunt and groan as he thrusts into you. 

You try to hold back your moans and he grabs your neck and starts to pound into you grinding a bit when he bottoms out. You feel his pubes rub against your clit, moaning at the sensation. He stops after a few minutes. Cumming inside of you. He bites down on your neck, drawing blood. You sit up when he pulls out and he helps you up. You both head to the truck cab. Getting in, you feel his cum drip down your legs and pool in your skirt. He drives to the house and gets out, telling you to go and wash up you had a hard shift.

[kitkathatesu]

𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Johnny Sawyer x Fem!reader

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 girl 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. “Ya 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 face. 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 ya don’t really look the type.” He grinned, his eyes subtly draping over your figure. 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’ ya 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 almost taste you with the way you look 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 outta here?” He whispered. His voice honeyed and hoarse, sending shivers down your spine. 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 eyes flicking around at your surroundings anxiously. What do you do? You’ve already flirted. He seems to have a good head on his shoulders, 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 ta 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 ta 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 sharp breath to steady yourself as you stood up from your seat, watching Johnny’s face turn.. Cold. The air around you now suffocating, 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, his lips 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 assuringly. 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. Oh well.

You tuck your hair behind your ear. Looking up at the stars then back to 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 scoffed.

Walking to the opposite side of the car you open the door and hop in. Reaching to turn the key 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 sauntered 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 ya 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 like he was being watched. “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 Onyx 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 ‘bout 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 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 ya 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 underneath you. The friction of it burning hot against your core, 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. “Ya 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 you ache 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 bright 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 really 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, look at ya.” 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 pushes you off of his lap, his arms now draping over the back of the seat. Lazily opening his legs, clicking his tongue with a chuckle. “Yer turn.” He gestured with his hand, pointing to his rock hard length painfully restricted to his leg in the confines of his jeans.

The silence 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. Yet your gaze still shifts from him to his zipper, swallowing harshly as 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 at 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 marvel at the sight. 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. His hips buck and his grip tightens in your hair. A guttural growl rumbling 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 stab into the back of your throat. 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, 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 not long till he’s 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 slams 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 chuckled, a cynical 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 his chest before laying you down in the 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 lay 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.”

[creepling]

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.

[villainology]

i feel like a kid running around with their drawing to show everyone else in the room bc i've already told like 2 other blogs about this scenario i had while i was trying to sleep but can you IMAGINE being a family friend of the sawyers? maybe your grandparents knew theirs before times were tough and cannibalism became their means of survival, and your family's died off and left you the little farmhouse and patch of land a few miles outside of the sawyers' boundaries. drayton's clarified you're off-limits (through some honorary family-friend ideals, or as not to upset grandpa 'cause your folks were always kind to them) and you're none the wiser to their true savagery they get up to (you can hear a scream once or twice, when you drive your dad's old beat up truck near their land sometimes, but you always think they've got really rowdy and funny sounding goats). but you've inherited your family's farmhouse and poor little you just doesn't know anything about farming and fixing up the house! no matter how hard you try, nothing grows, so one uneventful day you drop off some seeds as a gift for drayton since, well, they're not getting any use with you, and you mention a problem that needs fixing. maybe it's a rusty shed door you can't get open, or a busted roof. either way, drayton's always liked to keep up apparances and you haven't had a chance to meet the new additions of the family, so drayton sends johnny back with you (after giving him thorough lecturing about how no, you are NOT a potential victim, you're just a little oblivious, and plus johnny's the most... convincingly normal one out of all of them, arguably) to fix something up for you as thanks for the seeds. so now there's a sweaty, attractive, pretty charming (and maybe a little subtly condescending) guy fixing up something because you hadn't the slightest clue how to fix it, so you might as well make him some lemonade or tea and thank him! and, well, johnny might think you're amusing. pretty sweet, pretty cute, pretty *airheaded*. drayton said you were off-limits for anything violent, of course, but that didn't mean he couldn't test any other limits, right?

aaaah~ no bc wait I think you’re onto something here!! you got me thinking so many filthy thots rn, so I made a lil drabble, hope that’s okay w you? 😭❤️ sjdbdjdndnfnf I hope it’s written okay, I wrote this half asleep in bed but I couldn’t stop thinking abt it!

warnings — slight dub-con, light smut, Johnny being Johnny!

“Here you go, Mr Johnny,” you smiled up the ladder toward him as you walked out with two glasses of lemonade in hand, “where’d ya want it?”

“Just set it down on the table there.” His voice was stern, a tad hint of annoyance laced into it, not that you noticed.

Johnny stood at the top of the ladder, nail in mouth as he hammered another into roof of your porch, closing off the gap which would hopefully stop the rattling noise anytime there was a gust of wind. He slipped the hammer and last few nails into his work belt before looking down at you stood below him, so innocently sipping through the curly straw in your lemonade glass.

The Texan heat wasn’t good for much, but the way it made a light coat of sweat glisten on your body as the sun began to set was enough to make him appreciate the summer weather. Your denim shorts just a little too high up and your white vest top just a little too low, but from where he was stood he got to have the perfect angle down your shirt, and you were none the wiser.

Johnny carefully came down the ladder before picking his glass up off the table, his eyes never once leaving your body. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, you really were oblivious, so innocent and air-headed that he wondered how you survived off by yourself all these years before coming back to the farmlands.

The way Drayton sent him out here with you alone, like sending a lamb off to the slaughter — an adorable, pretty little lamb making lemonade for a starving lion. Johnny wondered to himself what you’d think if you found out what they were really like, just how savage and dangerous they were, would you run scared from him, give him chase to hunt you down on acres of land?

“Sorry about you having to come out here, I’ve clearly got a lot to learn about all this type of stuff, huh?” You laughed as you gestured toward the house and the land surrounding it.

Johnny was snapped from his thoughts, a fake little smile crossing his face as he nodded, “don’t sweat it, darlin’, friends helping out friends, ain’t that right?”

He knew that Drayton said you weren’t to be a victim, that you weren’t some prey to be chased and hunted down, butchered just for the hell of it, but what about anything else? After all, this was Drayton’s way of saying thanks to you, but what did Johnny get out of this? Where was his thank you for fixing up your roof free of charge? If you weren’t going to be Johnny’s victim then he’d sure as hell find away for you to give him thanks.

“Say,” he placed his half empty glass down on the table beside him, “you moved back up here all alone, not got a boyfriend following you here?”

“Oh, heh, no. Haven’t had one of those in a long while, Mr Johnny.”

“Huh, well that’s just peachy, darlin’.”

He walked from the table and closer to you, his hand stroking up and down your arm as he worked his way behind you, his warm body pressing up against yours as he leaned down to your ear, “how about a thank you for all my hard work, hm?”

His hand snaked its way around your waist and played with the button of your shorts, his lips grazing across the delicate skin of your neck, gently kisses to distract you from what his hands were doing. Truth be told you didn’t want him to stop, and he could tell. The way you let him unbutton your pants without a fight, his fingers working their way between your legs and tracing a line back and forth against your clothed cunt.

“Mr Johnny, I don’t think—”

“That’s alright, baby, you don’t gotta think,” his free hand wrapped around your throat, tilting your head to the side so he could more easily bite and suck at your skin, “just gotta do whatever I tell you to do.”

After all, Drayton said you couldn’t be slaughtered like he did the others, but he didn’t say anything about Johnny not being able to fuck you til’ you couldn’t walk no more.

[roachspeaks]

YOUR WRITING IS AMAZING 💞 i beg you to write some headcannons about the sawyers family with their s/o, in tcsm. with the new characters from the game if you can (sissy and johnny)?? thanks🫂

Sawyer Family x gn!reader basic hc’s

Omg this took way to long, writers block is a killer. I’m gonna admit I had to do some research and read some fics to get to know some of the characters I don’t usually write, but here we go<3

Disclaimer: the Sawyer family tree is so very very confusing, so the characters I went with: Bubba, Johnny, Sissy, Drayton(who is gonna be the older brother but more father figure bc his role is confusing), and Nubbins,

If I missed anyone, let me know and I wasn’t completely sure if you wanted this fluffy or smutty, so I went safe. If you did want smut, ask me please. And it shall be done:)

Bubba

•The sweetest boy, always reaching out to you for affection.

•He’s a big hugger, and a bear hugger too. Sometimes forgets how much bigger he is than most other people, but how can you say no? Even when he’s knocked the wind out of you with those big arms of his.

•He’s a simple man, he could die peacefully and fulfilled in your embrace.

•PRAISE HIM!

•He corrects himself on accidental roughness, tell him he’s doing such a good job and he’ll melt.

•Sometimes he gets easily frustrated because of people not understanding his intentions, so be patient with him. Reward him with hugs and cuddles and he’ll be satisfied.

•Late night talks! Even if it’s more enthusiastic grunts and whines. You’ll both be lying in bed and he’ll just be babbling happily about his day, or about how much he loves you with the widest grin on his face.

•He’s never really had a ‘relationship’ before, so there are times when you have to remind him what’s appropriate in front of the family and what’s not.

•Like sometimes he’ll get really excited, and start kissing you all over.

•But it’s at the dinner table, and some people in this Texan conservative household don’t want to see that PDA.

•His brothers and sister just love teasing him left and right about you, and he couldn’t care less. He loves you, and he’d tell the whole world if he could.

•The warm humidity of Texas is all he’s ever known, so one night there’s a weird and sudden cold snap, and he is absolutely freezing. You aren’t allowed to move from being his personal heating pad.

•But you aren’t complaining, trapped in a pile of blankets with the man you love isn’t the worst way to go.

•Sometimes he’ll go hunting in the forest and bring you back wild fowl, or something other than what the Sawyers all usually eat.

•Sure he wants you to be part of the family, but he notices the way your face scrunches up at the prospect of eating other people.

•It confused him at first, then it clicked that you didn’t like eating people. Like how he didn’t like his vegetables(or that’s how he thought about it).

•So he brings you other more humane alternatives.

•He hates rain and storms, they confuse him. As nobody took the time to explain to him what was happening, why everything was so loud and dark.

•It takes a lot of convincing and encouragement until he’s not cowering in fear at the thunder and lightning(thinking of making a one shot about this tbh).

•To sum it all up, he’s hopelessly in love, and he’d do anything and everything to protect you, and make you happy. He loves the feeling of your soft skin on his. Even if you have rougher hands, it’s nothing compared to his, and he loves it.

•Be gentle with this man, love him to death I beg<3

Johnny

•He’s a cocky bastard, even before you were officially together he was treating you like you were married to him under the state.

•Has absolutely no shame, and he will make out with you in front of Sissy to make her annoyed.

•He’s hyper fixated and persistent, meaning he will get what he wants eventually. So it’s better not to fight him on it(whatever it may be).

•Just like with Bubba, he is teased RELENTLESSLY. More so about how soft you make him. Or how whipped he is for you.

•Whenever he does something remotely sweet or nice to you in front of his siblings(and sometimes even his father and mother) he’ll get a sharp whistle and a chorus of teasing and laughter.

• “Wow Johnny, you really are just a softie huh?”

• “Shut it..”

•He’d never admit it to his family, but he would do anything for you.

•Any guy(or girl frankly) makes the mistake of catcalling or harassing you? They’re dead on the news the next morning.

•As I said even BEFORE you guys were officially dating.

•And he’s a jealous jealous man, so even if it was a misperceived or imaginary threat, it’s enough for him to kill them.

•He tries to be normal for you at first, tries to ignore the taunting from his family that he’ll slip up and scare you away.

•Then he quickly discovers your a freaky little thing by nature, even if your a little freaked out at first.

•Because who wouldn’t want a boyfriend so obsessed with you that he’ll murder for you?

•He likes it when you touch his hair, especially when he’s all sweaty from one thing or another.

•He won’t make you eat people, sometimes he doesn’t either. Not because he’s disgusted by it, more so because he gets bored of just one thing.

•The type to decide when you wake up, whether he’s up before you or not. Sometimes he’s clinging onto your midsection telling you ‘just five more minutes’ for the next hour and a half,

• Other times it’s a note left on your nightstand after he’s left to do farm chores, saying ‘If I see you up before 11 so help me god’

Sissy

•She personally lives for the thrill of bringing you(male, female or other) back home to her family. Specially her daddy.

•She doesn’t hide anything about her life from you even from the beginning. Meaning she expects the same blatant transparency.

•Loves annoying her brothers, mostly Johnny.

•She refuses softness in front of her family because as stated prior, she knows she’ll be made fun of excessively for it.

•That’s not to say she isn’t clingy and all over you.

•She is, it’s just much less ‘lovey dovey’ more ‘this person is mine, touch them and I’ll kill you’.

•She loves when you treat her, growing up she was often overlooked by her family, or even underestimated.

•Buy her something pretty, or something like a plant and she’ll be even more in love.

•She’s never liked loud animals, but she likes cats. Despite her family’s protests, onetime when she was a kid Nubs tried to kill a cat for lunch, she beat him silly. Saved the poor orange kitty and fed it for years.

•Her favourite colour is orange because of that.

•She sleeps like she’s constantly taking up to much space, she curls into one side of the bed and tries to keep there.

•It would be greatly appreciated if you pulled her close, let her uncurl from her little self created ball.

Drayton

•This man has his moments, and I’m not completely sure how I feel about him.

•The Sawyer family often picks on each other and teases each other but Drayton and Nubbs often take it just a little too far.

•His younger siblings are constantly poking fun at his attempts at leadership, and I feel like that makes him a deeper character then I’ve really thought about before.

•He’s a classic older cowboy type, a gentleman with a very stereotypical older brother vibe.

•He tries to keep his family safe, and that includes you when you find your way into his heart.

•He isn’t exactly ‘sweet’ but he can commit to sentimental gestures if that’s something you like.

•The occasional bouquet of wild flowers on your nightstand, or a kiss on the cheek before he goes out for work in the morning.

•He often judges himself too harshly, his decisions and his ability to lead his family, just tell him he’s doing good. He’ll melt in your hands like putty.

•His siblings often make risky choices just to show they can, and it stresses him out(more than he’ll show or admit).

•He can be bad at minding his manners, especially when people are riling him up.

•All he needs is someone to come home too, someone who can appreciate him for all he does and all he tries to do.

(His is really short but I’m unfamiliar with his character😂)

Nubbins

•He’s definitely the most openly clingy if the bunch, he’ll stick to your side like he’s glued there.

•Whether you’re going for a drive into town, or just getting up to go make something for yourself, he’s on your tail.

•He loves being pressed up against you, barely(if any) space between your bodies.

•It makes him feel safe.

•Drayton, Johnny and Sissy often tease him for being dumb, but he’s not dumb! You don’t think so..right?

•Unlike many of the others, if he needs your reassurance, he’ll ask you for it.

•He loves it when you run your fingers through his hair, or down his back.

•He tries to be polite, at least after you teach him what exactly that means.

•He’s very possessive, some days when there isn’t any work that needs done, he’ll just hold you hostage in your bed.

•He loves sunrises, sometimes he wakes up at a specific time just to watch them(his internal clock).

Some of these are shorter than others, if you want anymore specific head cannons let me know, or any other characters<3 have a lovely day.

[lace-coffin]

i feel like sending a rq this sappy kinda harshes the vibe of yr delightfully horny slasher headcanon posts but do you have any headcanons about how bubba’s s/o would fit into the sawyer household? like, how The Brothers might react to her bringing someone home or what day-to-day life on the sawyer homestead with bubba would be like?

Thank you for the rq!! I love writing fluff just as much as I do smut so feel free to send me all ur fluff ideas!

No trigger warnings apply!

Requests are open!

Reader is gender neutral and we’re operating on the basis that nubbins is still alive at the same time choptop is back home bc I love the sawyers

How would reader fit into the sawyer household as bubba’s s/o

You and bubba met one day when bubba offered to come help at the gas station, feeling cooped up in the house and not wanting to be alone. Drayton was more than happy to claim you as a victim as soon as he saw you pull up to the gas pump. This changed after your first interaction with bubba.

She was helping restock some shelves whilst Drayton manned the till. Dressed in a loose white sundress as it was easy to move in and won’t make them overheat whilst working.

You came in to pay, offering a polite greeting to Drayton who was putting on his airs and graces to lull you into a false sense of safety. You decided to get a snack, party because you were hungry and party because the run down station looked like it wasn’t receiving much love nor income.

As you browsed the isles your eyes landed on a figure crouched infront of the shelf. Short Soft brown curls tied with a ribbon laid across freckle spattered shoulders. White linen sundress laid gently against his large frame. Arms strong and thick with a fair amount of dark hair. Oh yeah, you were absolutely getting a snack now.

It turns out the snack isle was where the handsome stranger was working, you were going to talk to her regardless but this was a perfect opportunity. You scan over the different snacks available and take your pick. Coughing to get their attention you make yourself known. “I’m so sorry to bother you whilst you’re working but I just need to grab one of these” you point to the item and reach for it. Bubba being the person he is he decides to be kind and get it for you. You both reach for it and your hands bump. you both jolt back in surprise, pausing for a moment before laughing. The moment is sweet and genuine.

You catch sight of bubba’s gold charm bracelet and motion to it. “Your bracelet is so lovely!! Gold is definitely your colour”. Bubba makes a happy noise at this and flaps their hands in joy. Drayton watches the exchange with a soft smile on his face, his soft spot for his little sibling will always be there.

After this pleasant exchange you make sure to stop by the gas station every time you pass by even if you don’t need anything. Bubba isn’t there all the time, only working there on occasion but you still drop by and make comfortable conversation with Drayton. (You often ask about bubba to)

Eventually after bonding over the span of a few weeks and talking about it with Drayton you work up the courage to ask bubba on a date. Needless to say she’s thrilled and excepts immediately. You end up taking him out to a cute American style diner and the rest is history.

How would bubba’s siblings react to them bringing someone home?

Drayton is the least surprised considering he was basically in on it before you even asked his younger sibling out. He’s the one meeting you at the door before dates and giving you the lecture about driving careful and when to have bubba home. He can’t help it, he’s raised them since they were a kid. He’ll deny being protective with everything in his being if you bring it up though. He’ll be happy to finally have you over, cleaning the house top to bottom, he really likes you and wants this to go well for bubba.

Nubbins would be giddy to meet you, having been hyping bubba up before leaving for the gas station. He’s excited to get to meet the person who has his little sibling smitten. You actually might meet him on the road just before getting to the house. He’ll be scavenging for roadkill when you holler out the car and offer him a ride back to the house. Feel free to ask him a few questions about wooing the rest of his family before you get to the door.

Choptop would tease you and bubba, making her groan in annoyance. You take no offence and laugh with him. Chop will be eager to ask you 1000 questions and show you around the house. He’ll drag you straight to his room to see his record collection. Extra points if your alternative! Doesn’t matter what style, he thinks it’s all cool.

Nubbins and chop will definitely tease the two of you, fake gagging when you’re affectionate with each other in front of them. They might act like it’s gross but they’re actually happy for bubba and like his partner, hoping things go well so they can hang out more.

Grandpa isn’t a man of many words but you get on just fine, the conversations are pretty one sided apart from small smiles you see creep onto his face but he’s nice enough and important to your partner. You always make sure he feels included at dinners and family activities.

Grandma is long gone, but I’m sure she’d like you if she was alive 💀

How does reader fit into the house?

You fit in like a glove! It’s like you’ve known them way longer than you have. Drayton may grumble about having another mouth to feed but he really does enjoy your presence. you bring in your own income which is definitely helpful to repair some faults in the house or farming equipment which is very appreciated. You also help lighten his load with the chores, he’s not as young as he used to be and his joints are proving that. If you see him struggling or it’s a particularly bad day for his back then you’ll offer to take up his share of house chores. You spend evenings in the kitchen together washing up after dinner, listening to the radio together.

Nubbins loves to drag you and bubba out of the house to help look for roadkill, if that’s not your thing then he won’t force you but he’d really love it if you did come, using it as a way to bond. He’ll gift bubba bones and pretty trinkets he finds to make jewellery with. Nubbins has a lot of hair, he loves it when you tie it up for him before he goes out so it keeps out of his face in the Texan heat.

Choptop will spend time with you and bubba listening to his records. It’s always fun when you three chill in chops room covered in tapestry’s and mood lighting, the vibe is comfy and calm and complimented by listening to their favourite radio host/station (hi Stretch and LG!)

You often spend most of your day with bubba after he returns from his morning chores, you have more of a choice in your chores. If your good with animals then you’ll be assigned to helping around the farm and with the care of bubbas pet chicken, bond with your feathery friend enough and they’ll eventually start following you across the farm whilst you work. If you’re better with house work then you’ll be helping do more domestic activities whilst Drayton is running the gas station. Sweeping up, doing laundry and dishes, those kind of things. You also might help bubba tend to grandpa, she really appreciates it because it’s not easy carrying grandpa in his wheelchair down two flights of stairs alone. It also means a lot to them since family is everything and he loves his grandpa more than the world it’s self.

After a day of chores you meet back up and go to rinse off, as much as you love seeing her hot and bothered you don’t enjoy being sweaty and exhausted so you help eachother clean off. A few hours after supper it’s time for bed. to start off with Drayton insisted you sleep in separate beds so “no funny business” occurs. Funny business absolutely occurred despite that. You know you were found out when Drayton banged on the ceiling with a broom and yelled for you to “keep it down if you’re gonna be going at it like animals”. The next morning you both sit at the table red faced, nubbins and chop finding it hilarious. After this you moved into a bigger bed together since sleeping apart didn’t really have a point anymore.

You read to them next to the warm light of your bedside table lamp until your eyelids start to get heavy and the words blur together. You snuggle down into his side and let out a sigh of content. With one last sweet peck on the lips you both drift off.

I hope u liked this! Texas chainsaw massacre is actually a special interest of mine so I adored writing this for u!!

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Bubz's Slasher Fictober Day 6: Nubbins Sawyer x Reader (Or the hitchhiker for all you TCM players) (Apple Cider)

Day 6 is here! and the first week is coming to a close for Fictober. I hope you've all been enjoying this event so far and thank you for all the support for my first tumblr fic event! <3

Notes: Minors Dni, No use of pronouns, No smut in Fictober (yet wink wink). Gender Neutral reader with nothing described in detail.

"Nubbins boy goddamn you!" Drayton's yell echoed through the house, you winced and buried yourself further into the blankets on the bed you shared with the middle sawyer brother. He had sent you up hear when Drayton and Bubba had returned home so you wouldn't be subjected to the venom that was about to spew from Drayton's mouth.

A hitchhiker pick up, something that Nubbins had been doing for years even before you came into the picture, had went completely wrong. The group of 3 college kids were much smarter then they looked and it ended with Nubbins nearly getting shot had Drayton not noticed how late the two of you were and sent Bubba out to check.

By the time Bubba reached you guys the man driving was angrily waving his weapon at you and Nubbins and yelling about what freaks the two of you were. The man had almost turned the gun on Bubba when Nubbins took him out.

The other two kids ran into the neighboring field but Drayton was already on his way to go chase them down with Bubba while you and Nubbins were sent an angry glare and told to get on home.

Nubbins sent you and apologetic glance before the two of you began to walk.

"D-do you think H-He's gonna be mad?" Nubbins asked you after a minute, You grimaced but answered truthfully.

"I'd reckon Drayton's already mad nubs"

Truthfully the two of you had fucked up big time, You couldn't imagine what would've happened if that guy had shot Nubbins. Drayton however had a way with words and could be particularly nasty when it came to his chili "Ingredients" being messed with, never mind his little brother almost dying to get them for him.

"What the hell were you thinkin'? You coulda died! Not to mention what would've happened had those kids got away and got help" You didn't like how Drayton would dress Nubbins down but if you wanted to keep your place in the family you'd stay out of the eldest Sawyer brothers way. Plus god forbid you did and Drayton said something particularly out of line to you it would cause an even bigger issue with Nubbins.

Nubbins must've made the smart choice to stay quiet and let Drayton's verbal lashings wash over him. One of the unspoken rules of the sawyer household was that you didn't argue with Drayton. Not that anything bad would happen per say but the eldest Sawyer could be so stubborn and set in his ways.

You hadn't noticed Nubbins enter your shared room till you heard the door close behind him. You sat up in bed against the headboard and looked at your boyfriend, your heart broke when you made eye contact.

Sadness etched across his face, the worst part was no matter how mean Drayton got Nubbins hated disappointing his older brother, he would never admit it out loud but he looked up to Drayton and one day hoped he would be the head of the family and match his brother is being able to take care of them. Even though that title would most likely fall to his only a few minutes older twin brother Bobby if he ever returned from Vietnam that was.

"Nubs" You said softly holding out your arms for any comfort you could offer him. He fell into your arms as soon as they opened and buried his face into your chest. You pulled the blanket around the two of you and you rubbed a hand down his back and felt him slightly untense himself.

"D-Drayton c-c-can be so mean sometimes!" He choked out trying to hold himself together, you smoothed his hair out of his face and nodded.

"I know he can baby" Nubbins then pulled a face you hadn't really seen before, it was as if he was fighting some internal battle at that moment so you decided to poke a little.

"You wanna be mad at him, but he's your brother and you love him? is that what it is?" You asked softly, He pondered a moment before nodding.

"Y-yeah, But h-he's so stubborn sometimes! I-i wish he was nicer" You nodded in agreement.

"I understand that nubs, and even though I do think Dray could be nicer you have to understand ever since Bobby got drafted his life hasn't been the best either"

Everyone in the Sawyer household took a hit when Robert had gotten drafted, especially Nubbins. With his twin brother he had never been separated from across the world fighting in a war Nubbins didn't have a clue what to do with himself.

He tried to throw himself into small projects and hitchhiking to bring in people, but you could still tell something was off.

"B-but w-we all m-miss Bobby" Nubbins said "N-not just him" You decided to use this to try and get some peace restored.

"What would Bobby say if he knew the two of you were at each others throats?" You felt Nubbins slightly tense at this.

"Bobby would be so disappointed if he knew you guys were fighting nearly every day since he left. I'm not asking every day to be perfect but I want you to try and get along with Drayton, If not for me do it for Bobby" You concluded, using your hand to bring him to make eye contact with you.

Nubbins smiled a bit before nodding eagerly.

"D-do it for Bobby" He said with a victorious smile before pressing his lips to yours.

As long as the Sawyer men were able to survive each other till Bobby returned, Then you'd consider it a win.

[spicy-pears]

𝑨 𝑫𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒂𝒅 𝑴𝒂𝒏

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨: 1-𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒚. 2-𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑹𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔. 3-𝑬𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒆𝒔.[WIP]. 4-𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍'𝒔 𝑭𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚 [WIP].

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨: 𝙤𝙧𝙖𝙡(𝙢 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙚𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜), 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙨𝙚𝙭, 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙥𝙞𝙚, 𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜,Sadism,sexual vulgarity.[For the dirty readers like myself, the smut is towards the bottom 🤣]

𝙒𝙘: 3.4 k

Disclaimers: I researched a bit on johnny, and per the Pflugerville incident. Breaking into houses is not his Forte. He has tendencies to be extremely wreckless and impulsive. I'll be exploring that a bit more here. Along with mentions of babi sawyer.

I hope you enjoy❣️

Weightless, your warm dream state embraced you. The only God-given blessing, that took away the human flaw of pain. But this was only temporary. Voices, they were chaotic and many. But you could pick out your keeper's voice easily. You began to descend; your senses awoke in a violent rush. Your hip produced a festering burn. Wrists denied circulation as they were tightly bound. your eyes opened to the mesmerizing glimmer of your tears. Although awake you couldn't make sense of anything. Feverish sweat rolled off your heaving chest, as you were hung off the ground like butcher's meat. Your senses conflicted fear with peace you found yourself smiling at a small girl, a curious older woman, and your captor. Johnny's eyes glanced at you for a short moment, as if he knew something was wrong with you already. Your ears finally began to focus, now able to take in the chaos.

"Oh? Is she now? Well, babi's doll could use some fresh bones!" an old man mocked Johnny and topped it off with snide laughter. The older man leans down, getting a good look at you. "With how you roughed her up, how do you expect to keep her?" your eyes strangely couldn't keep up, as the old man shuffled round to meet your burning side. Using a red stick, he pushed up your dress slightly spotting the source of your delirium. "Your little work of art is infected, now she's no use at all!" He sucked his teeth and shook his head with grave disappointment. "Again, she ain't for eat'n old man" Johnny's voice trembled like an angry kettle. As you took witness to the conversation, you realized how badly you miscalculated. There was no section about cannibals, in your "How to tame a psycho" handbook.

"Big boy was allowed to have babi. I should be able to have my own too. I do plenty for this family!" johnny began to argue his case, making his importance and dominance in the family Prominet. "He's allowed that right! He works hard to support the household and does as he's told. All you do is bring trouble and damned mess about!" the older man continued to argue not backing down, to Johnny's bubbling annoyance. "Quit yer' barking at me. Or I may have to put your rabid ass down."

"Well, if she was a virgin, it should take just fine" Suddenly a cold yet maternal voice chimed in, to tame the rising tensions. Instantly you had a feeling this woman had to be Johnny's mother. as no one else in the room but her was sticking up for his passionate pleas. "No! No no no! We just got out of that Flores mess! And we finally just tamed babi. now you want another love child around here!?" you watched the older man quickly shuffle towards her. If her being johnny's mother wasn't already obvious her quick temper made it undeniable. "If you don't shut up! Those big Ol ears you still can't hear what people are saying! Feed the girl. She doesn't eat she don't live."

With a point to prove the old cook took no time to rush into the kitchen. he intended to present to you the most morbid dish he could muster. He hated Johnny's swaggering attitude and Nancy's persistent coddling. He couldn't wait to relish in Johnny's failure; all it took was you refusing to eat. Johnny followed him close behind and began to protest again, "You blind old bat! She's delirious, she can't eat meat yet.". Drayton confidently shot back, "She eats, or she doesn't live. You heard your mother." this time he had Johnny. there was no way he could huff and puff out of this one.

Nancy uncharacteristically took pity on you. She bent the rules for just this once. She took a handkerchief out from the pocket of her house dress. With it tightly balled in her fist, she let it soak in the blood at the bottom of a empty meat tray. "Well, she can still drink, go on sweet boy." Nancy handed johnny your saving grace. And stayed in the kitchen with Drayton, to finish her verbal lashing.

Johnny approached you with the blood-dripping cloth in hand. You tried to show your disapproval by shaking your head no. But in your delirious state, not much of a fight could be done. You felt Johnny's hand caressing your sweat-glistening cheek, ever so gently. As he began to bring your face down towards him, your lips now closer.

You held your lips firmly closed with all the strength you could muster.

"Come on now kitten, drink for me."

For the first time, his voice was heart-rending. You weren't sure if it stemmed from his pride or selfish desires. But he was desperate now, for you to accept his morbid request. Your eyes began to well with tears, watching the seemingly innocent 10-year-old girl. Her dark innocent eyes peering a curious glance at you. Babi would pass off as a sweet child, but she was proudly raised twisted. Close to her chest held her baby doll, something you knew was deprived of all innocence. How could you bring a child into this hellish environment, how selfish and cruel. You became content with the idea of death.

But one final look into Johnny's eyes broke your resolve. Deep down, unknowingly you etched out a part of your heart that cared for him. Your lips slowly began to part, opening your mouth as much as you could. Johnny's relieved gasp was met with drops of cold blood onto your lips, painting your tongue.

"There we are,let it be."

HOUSTON TEXAS.

SEPTEMBER 15, 1989, TIME: 2:00 AM

"I was wondering, 1 month into the search we found you in newt. How did you end up there? Many miles from Austin?"

"I honestly...don't know, the last thing I can piece from that time. Was going to a small-town college bar; in September."

Your eyes were fixated on the TV, examining each and every movement of yourself. Frisking for any nervous twitch, a self-soothing gesture, or even a moment of self-restraint. An aggravated huff radiated from your chest, as your fingertips ran against your scalp soothingly. why? why couldn't you remember anything? You watched your taped police interview so many times, combed through your written statements thoroughly, and attended each and every therapy session and then some to combat the mind wipping delirium. All exasperatingly fruitless, you couldn't even understand why the month of August held such great personal importance. so much so, that your sweet baby boy was named after it.

Your tired eyes began to shut, everything becoming silent and still in your mind. A soft grazing feeling ran up your neck, a feeling you could have sworn was a hand. Promptly your body shot up, and your hand protectively held your neck. Frightened you began to scan the room until they froze on a peculiar sight. Leaning in, you focused on an odd dark shadow casted against the crystal back door. As if shadows had awareness, it quickly moved from your inspecting gaze. You quickly excused it away, figuring it was a wild rabbit again.

Wisley, you called it a night. Not before quietly stopping by your son's nursery. Admiring the sleeping baby from his angelic expression down to his pretty boy lashes. All of which faintly reminded you of someone, someone who is now far from your memory.

TIME 3:15 AM

Your eyes fluttered open to the familiar melody. The upbeat romantic song that played during your wedding, bringing you a warm feeling of safety. The safety you cherished when you were finally found, finally free. But it was strange, your lazy eyes caught the time. 3:15 am, why would he play this so late? . You remembered your husband's disappointed confusion at his broken record player. Which now played eerily off key, deep and slow. Why would he play music on it now? Lazily your feet shuffled against the carpet. And unexpectedly met the soft rattle of your son's comfort blanket. Now Perplexed, you examined the small bat covered blanket. Abruptly, the flashing blue and white lights of your TV caught your full attention.

You felt the fear on your fingertips, as they glided against the wooden stair railing. Holding your breath, in an attempt to stop your heart from beating so violently. With each braved stair, your skin crawled with a stabbing chill that only increased. Until you stopped halfway, there he was. Your baby boy is being held by a shadowy stranger.

"Da-da!" The sweet babble from your baby boy brought you so much dread. He could never piece his babbles into a clear "Pa-pa" or "Da-da", To your husband's dismay. But now sitting on the knee of a stranger, he joyfully rang out his newfound word. The stranger leaned down, playfully shaking a teddy bear. While the smiling babe sucked on his knuckles, feeling truly entertained. Promptly, a pair of mirror dark eyes cut from him to you.

"Does mama remember me?" You knew that build, those eyes, and that damned intoxicating southern twang. With no more stairs to stall the inevitable, you now stood in Johnny's open view. You watched the corners of his mouth, curl into his signature devilish grin. "Well, Hey there kitten!". You were rendered stuck, each attempt to speak was snuffed out with exhales of confused disbelief. Before you could finally say anything, a frantic knock at the door, snapped you out of your confused loop.

"Hey, neighbor! It's me Carol from across the street? I know it's late, but I was looking out the window. You know, As I always do. And I think I saw a man entering your garage." Slowly you turned your incedulous glare at Johnny. Who averted your gaze, paying his full attention to his coo'ing baby boy. You looked up at the ceiling, the new object of your ire. As it received an array of silent French curses.

"Uh! That was just the emergency, pest control guy. I found a rattlesnake in there not so long ago, scared me half to death!" you devised the quickest excuse for the tall scar covered man who took presence in your home. Then the realization hit you, this wasn't a cute little night time visit. You instantly knew johnny was going to kill you tonight.Before carol could walk away, you quickly opened the front door and stammered your desprate request. "Hey, carol? could you watch August for a bit? Even for just an hour, ....please?".

She noticed your desperate distress, before she could ask what was going on. august was already in her arms. "O-oh!" she looked at the tiny heartbreaker in her arms. She looked up, in a second attempt to ask what the matter was this late. Only for her eyes to be met with johnny's. She was frightful under his stone-cold, intimidating stare. "Oh! Goodness!" Carol looked down at August, her eyes gradually widen with revelation. The baby oddly looked exactly like the pest control man. Before she could get in a second look, Johnny shut the front door in her face.

"Now why would you go on and do a foolish thing like that?" You were now alone with Johnny's full upset. He waited for a response from you, but you were silent entering a state of doe-eyed fright. johnny knew that look and knew what it meant. He wasn't here to kill you, as far as he was concerned you are his family. But the look he gave in return was different; it wasn't his hungry grin, nor was it any sign of the bad man. It was rather calculated, he circled you. Letting you take in the unknown expression, and he knew it drove you crazy. The corners of his mouth curled softly, and his eyes appeared gentle. For once you admired the light dancing off his eyes, a rare sight. Then the realization struck you, and at the same time the pain did. This was his calm before his storm.

Swiftly your body was yanked and pressed against his from behind. He began savoring the way your plush ass cradled his now hardened length. With a soft exhale, you felt your needy cunt tighten on nothing. As if your body was preparing itself for a battle. Johnny's soft drifting lips against your neck acted as the carnal declaration of a long night. Sly as ever, you felt him lick his lips against your neck. The tip of his tongue teasingly ran across the small area on the back of your neck. The sweet fantasy ended, with his devilish chuckle.

"Enjoyed yourself?" As he began to pull away, your eyes filled with dismay begging for him to continue. "You know half of the family wanted me to come down here slit your throat and leave. but where's the fun in that?" Johhny would exact his usual cruelty, firmly pressing his finger down on your still very sensitive branding. You tried your best to stand still on your feet. refusing to give him the satisfaction, of watching you crumble weakly before him." we have an hour, right?" He asked you a question, in any other situation he'd demand an answer. but tonight, he didn't need any answers. You were to be thoroughly disciplined. His controlling press got maliciously harder, his fingers almost digging into it. Unable to hold in the pain any longer, you fell to your knees. A hunched-over teary mess, panting as you attempted to collect yourself.

"You know, you have no business being up this late" Johnny knelled down to your eye level. His hand displaying a unexpected gentleness. His fingertips softly taped the bottom of your chin. Promptly, you raise your head to look at him "Time to teach you the house rules.". you felt a swift yanking of your left hand. before you knew it johnny tossed away your wedding ring into a trashcan. You watched his leather boots re-enter your view. Eagerly you watched johnny make a display of taking off his shirt Infront of you. He met your starving gaze, only to unzip his pants. allowing his thick curved length to spring out for you.

"Lesson one, who's the man of the house?" He gave you the sweetest smile. You knew something was up. This felt like a trick question, but you had no desire to navigate his mind games. Your hips began to grind in a circular motion, begging to be fucked. You answered his question with ease, "You Johnny". Johnnys sweet smile slowly curled into a coy smirk. His fingers carefully glided through your hair, only to vandalize your locks with a rough yank. The pull by the top of your hair forced your mouth wide open. Assuming the position, you let your tongue lay out flat, ready to receive him. You felt his eyes impatiently glaring down, before his grip exucted a rough correcting yank. "Follow the curve, memorize my cock." His deep voice firmly demanded you, his gaze sharp and equally dictating.

Johnny was nice enough to slowly thrust into your mouth, allowing you to learn how to follow the perfect upward curve. Your jaw achingly tensed up on the first stroke, as you took in his full girth. Your sloppy warm tongue caressed each ridge from the veins that adorned his length. He'd let out a pleased groan that traveled down his spine. Encouraging him to thrust deeper into your mouth, his pace growing increasingly rough. The tip of his cock began tapping the back of your throat, dipping in deep until he felt your lips meeting his base. Each rough thrust forced your nose to press hard against the base of his cock. Leaving you in a sweet breathless starry haze. Eyes half lidded you enjoyed the bouncing stars that rivaled Exstacy.

He watched you struggle to keep up, your eyes prickled with thick beads of tears. You desperately dug your nails deeper into his toned thighs, each time he denied you a chance for air with his punishing thrusts. He even ignored your needy fingers, trying to tame your aching clit. The view was truly beautiful, your sloppy hot saliva dripping off his cock. While your wet cunt covered your fingers in a constant dripping stream of wasted slick, combined made the perfect lewd puddle.

The grip on your hair tightened, while his length pulsed against your tongue. Your fingertips felt the muscles in Johnny's hip and thighs begin to contract. The rumble of his frustrated moan alerted your eyes to look up at him. god did he love your face, especially when it was an innocent-eyed mess. "Get up" His tone is now dangerously impatient, his hand gesturing you towards the dining table. Your obedient mouth parted ways with his cock, leaving a connected string of salvia as a parting gift. hastily you tried to catch as many breaths as you could. Before you could even take your dress off for him. He tossed away your uselessly wet panties to the side. And proceeded to hike your left leg up over the top of the dining table, allowing you to stand on the other. The new position stretched the muscles in your thighs into a tingling numbness.

Johnny's forceful control of your hair didn't waiver. He kept his heated gaze on you, yanking your head back onto his shoulder. Your pussy stood no chance, he maliciously watched you build yourself up. Your needy well-manicured fingertips rubbed your clit in so many ways. Never once did you stop, nor did you ask for permission. And for that, he wanted to make you suffer all that build-up all at once. Your breath hitched into a soft hiss. Your entrance is teased with a shallow thrust, Taking in the full girth of his tip.

"Impatient whore, you couldn't just wait, could you?" Johnny's hands roughly gripped your ass, spreading you open for his abuse. leaving no room for your squirming, you weren't going to run from it this time. His hips thrusted deep into your pussy with calculated precision. His tip ruthlessly hit the sensitive spot of your cervix. Your loud moan became a choked-out sob, as Johnny kept your head still in his desired position. He had the best view of your Sobbing face and quivering sweat-kissed body that couldn't handle the intensity of your sudden release. Numb your fingertips reached back meeting his rugged abs with a push, trying your best to request for a moment of pause. With a pathetic whimper, you began to beg "Please Johnny, i cant" Which was ignored. With a low demonic growl, his thrusts picked up a feral pace.

Johnny reveled in the symphony of cries, as your oppressed pussy gushed and squelched around him. "Damn!" He cursed Through a deep trembling snarl; his cruel discipline grew animalistic against your broken body. Letting go of your head, his chest firmly pressed against your back. Your hips began to tease back, pushing back in circular movements along his length. For once Johnny began to break a sweat, feeling the tight wet gummy ridges of cunt flutter around him.

In an attempt to stop your antics, his teeth sank into the soft cartilage of your ear. The blood-rendering bite brought a stabbing pain that shot down your spine, freezing your disobedient body still. His hips rocked you into a sensual wave, as he fucked his thick spill into you. overwhelmed your pussy struggled to take the weight of his cock and now his heavy load. He probably pulled his satisfied cock out of your thoroughly disciplined cunt."Still a defiant slut, we'll fix that later" Your head whipped around, eyes filled with yearning as you watched Johnny dress himself back up, his fingers combing his hair back into his signature style. He wore an amused smirked, while looking at your pitiful expression;

"Aww, too bad. Your hour's up kitten"

CHAPTER 2 END.

CHAPTER 3 PREVIEW:

"10-23, empty squad car located on the emergency lane. No sign of suspicious activity, looks like he left the car to move roadkill maybe."

The female officer looked around the empty highway, for any signs of blood or a wounded animal. With no luck, her eyes inspected the inside of the car.

" Uh, 10-13, I see what looks to be...sunflowers? left on the driver's seat?"

Refusing to foolishly taint any evidence, she took her pen and flipped over a card that simply read.

"Family First." Warning: upcoming chapter will be bloody (potential end) of the series.

PREVIEW END.

[one-annon]

hi I'm annon!!

I started tumblr as a artist but I guess I'm moving onto my writing too - I ask you to please be patient because I'm new to writing x readers n such but I will try my best!!

it's been quite a while since I wrote but I can do like 1k to 2k? longer than that might be a little hard for me (｀□´) my current hyperfixation; saw series!

next movie on my list; silence of the lambs!

【ＣＨＡＲＡＣＴＥＲ　ＬＩＳＴ】

sawyer family (including the game characters!) - texas chainsaw massacre

hewitt family - texas chainsaw masscre remake

jason voorhees - friday the 13th series

michael myers (og and rz) - halloween series

laurie strode/angel myers (og and rz) - halloween series

billy lenz - black christmas 1974 (i will do 2006 version but mostly the 1974 version)

brahms heelshire - the boy

carrie white (and friends) - carrie (og and remakes)

scream team (billy, stu, randy, etc) - scream series (ive only seen 1 and 2 but im making my way through)

harry warden - my bloody valentine (og and remake)

sinclair brothers - house of wax

firefly family - house of 1000 corpses trilogy

dbd characters - dead by daylight

saw characters - any movie! this includes the scott tibbs documentary and saw .5!

herbert west and dan cain - reanimator

patrick bateman - american psycho

anyone else you can think of! I'll try my best to learn the character :) these are just everyone I can think of at the moment! I'll do killers and survivors but I know people are more obsessive over the killers lmao

【ＷＩＬＬ　ＤＯ】

anything really..I don't have too many boundaries. I can do anything from hcs, scenarios (i.e. how would ____ react to ____?), smut, fluff, angst...the whole works

and even if you're willing to rant to me about your ocs I could whip up a oc x canon story! :)

【ＷＩＬＬ　ＮＯＴ　ＤＯ】

really not a lot to add here? maybe like...toilet related stuff for nsfw..

just the usuals - no incest (MAYBE for the sawyers since they are canonically inbred but its very situational), p3dophilia, b3astiality, etc etc

MASTERLIST!

GENERAL TAGS; #MANN GEGEN MANN! ➸ OOC/ANNON (also used for my rp blogs!) ↪ mann gegen mann - rammstein

#AND I KNOW WHY YOU DRIVE ME CRAZY MOTH MAN ➸ annons moths ↪ moth man - dirty bynum

#SEARCHIN! SEEK AND DESTROY! ➸ annons art ↪ seek & destroy - metallica

#my face is long forgotten my face is not my own ➸ ask games (again, also in my rp blogs!) ↪ am i evil? - diamond head

FANDOM TAGS;

#game over! ➸ saw writes ↪ jigsaw, apprentices

#its a scream baby! ➸ scream writes ↪ stu macher

#you fudgepackers'll be the death of me yet! ➸ TCM writes ↪ drayton sawyer

#hey paul! ➸ american psycho writes ↪ patrick bateman

#hes dead?/not anymore... ➸ reanimator writes ↪ dan cain/herbert west

WRITING TAGS;

#HEY HEY HEY HEY! HEY STOOPID! ➸ annon writes ↪ hey stoopid! - alice cooper

#I WASNT EVEN A BILL I WAS JUST AN IDEA ➸ annons hcs ↪ im just a bill - school house rock (cover by deluxx folk implosion) #keeping our eyes close to whats going on on the screen ➸ angst writes ↪ slumber - sløtface

#ive got to have faith faith faith ➸ hurt with comfort writes ↪ faith - george michael (and cover by limp bizkit)

#quit actin like a bitch and makin up excuses ➸ hurt with no comfort ↪ i wish i was a riot grrrl - destructo disk

#call me on the line call me anytime ➸ fluff writes ↪ call me - blondie

#rein raus rein raus ➸ smut writes ↪ rein raus - rammstein

#so much for the golden future i cant even start ➸ annons drabbles ↪ breaking the law - judas priest

yeah! thats kinda it! I'll try to reply and write out requests as fast as I can

credit to; @strangergraphics for the awesome dividers!

ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ꜱᴀᴡ ʀᴘ ʙʟᴏɢꜱ!

@ᴡʀ4ᴛʜ-ᴏꜰ-ᴛʜᴇ-ɢᴏᴅꜱ @ᴛʀᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ-ᴛᴡɪɴꜱ @zippyzep @jigsaws-disciples

[babiebom]

Accidental Prey(i)

A/N: New obsession coming through woo woooooooo. Hopefully I have it in me to finish this.

Tw: talks of sex, taking of virginity, no smut but does talk about sex in small details, talks of murder and cannibalism, drunk one night stand, cursing. Mentions of blood and gore, some sexism/misogynist views, pregnancy, racism, slut shaming

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter/Sawyer x OC

Genre: strangers to lovers, Stockholm Syndrome, angst, romance(?), drama

Wc: 5.2k

Masterlist next

At the feeling of something popping, Johnny already knew that he was in deep shit. The girl below him was drunker than he was by a long way. And though he also had way too much to drink he could already tell by his reaction that he was going to remember this entire situation in the morning.

It wasn't unusual for him to sleep around, it wasn't unusual for him to sleep with potential victims. But something about this girl made him feel different. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the way she smiled and smelled and let him bite her. He wasn't sure. He just knew something about her was off, because it damn sure cannot be him.

Looking down he stares at where their bodies meet, blood was beginning to pool under her ass and onto the sheets below them. God, he was going to have to pay for this, huh? Looking back up at her face, the tears had stopped and so had her whining, now she was just clinging onto him, her lips brushing over his arms that were caging her in. Did she even realize what was happening? Did she realize that she had let a random man she had just met take her virginity? She slurred something against his arm, her eyes unfocused. Maybe he should quit before it goes too far…

"Have you done this before?" Maybe she just hadn't slept around in a while…maybe she just hasn't done it a lot and her body wasn't used to it.

She furrowed her eyebrows before shaking her head, murmuring out an answer. Johnny blinks twice, feeling as if he was now somehow responsible for her wellbeing, as if because he is the first man to defile her he has to take care of her and that's too much for him to process. He tries to reason with himself quickly, almost gaslighting himself into believing that it doesn't count because they haven't really done anything. He hasn't moved, hasn't done anything except push inside her one time. That isn't sex at all. None of this counts.

Before he can pull himself out of her, she whines and wraps her legs around him, frowning as she slowly turns her head to try and make eye contact with him. "What're you doin?"

"Baby, I don't think this is a good idea…" Johnny was never one to put someone else's needs before his own, but this seemed like the perfect opportunity to do so. By stopping here nothing is different, she can still be considered a virgin, and he doesn't have to worry about some random chick he found in a bar.

"Why not? I thought we was makin' love?" She pouts as she slurs her words out. Locking her legs around him tighter, forcing him in deeper. It only served to make her whine out in pain and he has to focus on not being selfish and moving inside of her.

He wants to laugh at the thought of 'making love'; it isn't a thing he does. He doesn't know how to love, his family doesn't know how to properly love. This whole situation is fucked and he wants to rip her to shreds for somehow triggering a response in him that he didn't know was possible. He didn't love her, not at all, but he also didn't want to kill her. He could already see Drayton losing his shit if he ever found out about him going out and having one night stands that he doesn't bring home to eat. The old man claims to not enjoy killing but sure does get mad when loose ends are tied up.

"You sure?" He asks, grabbing her by the chin and roughly making it so that she had to look him in the eyes. She hums in response, giving him a small smile before closing her eyes. She was mumbling again, and he only could catch that she thought he was nice before she started talking about something else. He breathes in deeply before deciding that he could just finish and wait until she's asleep before leaving and never seeing her again. He hopes that she forgets anything that happened, not wanting her to remember him.

If she remembers then she might come looking for him, and if she comes looking for him then the family will know what he's done, what he's been doing. And they'll kill her, or make him kill her. He doesn't know which is worse, but he knows that he doesn't want to kill her, that he doesn't think she should die. He tries to figure out what it is about her again, coming to the conclusion that she just doesn't set off any of his killer instincts, that she doesn't set off that thing in him that needs to kill.

It's as if he's a wolf thinking he's hunting a bunny but instead what he finds is a tiny little mouse that wouldn't be fulfilling to eat. A little mouse that doesn't make the chase fun, that doesn't make him want to attack her at all. He just feels bad for her and how small and helpless she is. Killing her would be no fun, he decides quickly finishing partially inside her before pulling out, too lost in his thoughts to properly be worried. Her face is screwed up and he wonders if she finished, asking her as much.

By the look on her face he can tell that she hadn't, too wrapped up in his thoughts to even recall how having sex with her felt. So, deciding to be nice he helps her out. Touching her in that special place until her broken wails come out silently and her back arches off the cheap motel bed. He silently hopes this makes up for him being a shitty person to have your first time with. "Did that feel good?" He asks and she nods her head, a sleepy grin on her face as she stretches and begins to fall asleep.

He sighs, wiping her off with his shirt. After making sure she was lying on her side he slips out of the motel room, throwing his shirt away before getting into his truck, driving home and away from the girl before any real consequences could be had.

When Fawn woke up in a pool of dried blood she was confused, obviously. The last thing she remembered was being at a bar, tossing back a shot that the bartender had even questioned if she could handle it. Seeing where she had woken up, it was apparent that she could not. Sucking in a breath she moves her hair from in front of her face, the curly mess tangled around her fingers. For a split second she wondered if she looked as bad as she thought she did. That thought was quickly overtaken by the feeling of stabbing pain shooting up her legs and crotch. As if she had been electrocuted for moving.

She wailed out in pain, writhing on the bed, eyes squeezed shut as she tried to remember what happened to her. She didn't even realize she had left the bar. From the pain and the blood, she already had some semblance of what had occured, and though there was already regret pooling at the bottom of her belly she also felt upset that the guy didn't even stick around, he just left after…doing what he did.

Crying she waited until the pain got bearable enough that she could move. How was she going to get back home? Her car was still at the bar. Did she even have her keys? Looking around she spotted her purse sitting on a table next to the door. At least he was nice enough to leave her things.

Moving around slowly, she wondered if she would be able to get a cab or something, at least to take her back to the bar. She cringed as she looked back towards the bed, blood was everywhere and she knew that leaving it there was rude, but talking to the motel workers would probably get her in trouble. Silently she began to bundle the blanket and sheets up, hoping that the mattress below was untouched, just so the repercussions wouldn't be as bad. She cursed the man aloud for leaving her to deal with this alone.

The sun was extremely bright when Fawn finally walks out of the room, and it makes her nauseous to the point where she has to run over to the grass, ignoring the burning pain in her legs in order to throw up somewhere it doesn't need to be cleaned or seen. Turning around, she frowns at how the motel looks, dingy and dusty, people sitting around looking out of it. At least she has nothing to be embarrassed about seeing as no one cares what she's doing.

The nearest payphone was thankfully just down the street, she could see it in the distance if she squinted. The blazing Texas sun burned the skin on her shoulders, her complexion not helping her despite the common belief that it would, she still burned easily and that fact made her situation even worse. Her legs were sore, and now burned awfully from the walk taking much longer than it needed to be, and by the time she got to the payphone she was out of breath and sweaty. Fawn was beginning to regret going out.

Panting, she tries to lean against the payphone, but she only proceeds to get burned as the metal had been cooking all day. Frowning, she wonders how she's going to call anyone for help when holding onto the stupid phone for more than a second would burn her hand so badly she would have to go to the hospital. It took a minute before she decided to lift her shirt, looking around to make sure no one would see her, and use it to hold the phone. Paying the 50 cents she calls a taxi to come pick her up.

The second Fawn was in front of her own house, she felt the urge to leave again. Her parents were sure to be awake and moving around seeing as it's the middle of the day, and her little act of defiance was sure to be punished, even if she is a grown adult. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, thinking of a plan to minimize the damage. She was unsure of how she was going to lie to and convince her parents that she hadn't gotten up to trouble at all, and while she had no real idea of what happened she could figure out enough of everything to know that they were going to be livid. Before she could come up with anything solid, the front door opened, the screen door slamming against it from how hard the person had forced it open.

Fawn's mother is a large lady. Tall, strong, and mean faced with a head of dark curly hair. Seeing the woman storming towards you is enough for anyone, man or woman, to go running in fear at what was to come as a consequence of her anger. Terrified, Fawn scrambles out of the car, hoping that this small act of compliance would placate her mother enough that she wouldn't get into too much trouble. "Momma-"

"Where were you?"

Flinching, Fawn attempted to make herself seem smaller. She wanted to answer, but answering would only make things worse for her so she keeps her mouth shut as her mother grabs her by the arm and drags her inside. Her father sat in his recliner, staring at her with wide eyes. And though she was terrified at the thought of a punishment, she could see from how her father's shoulders drooped that they had been afraid. With guilt flooding in her stomach she allowed her mother to pull her into a hug, the large woman shuddering and gripping onto Fawn's shoulders so tight she was sure they would be bruised in the morning.

As soon as her mother let go, she turned and walked towards her father, he stood slowly as she approached. Like her mother, her father was large, muscular and mean looking, the only difference between them was the colors of their skin. If her mother terrified people, her father made them believe that what had happened in the bible surely had happened again to produce such a large man. To have such a tiny child was almost comical, it was how they named her because something like 'mouse' would get her made fun of.

Fawn could feel her lower lip tremble as she fell into her fathers arms, letting him hug her just as tight as her mother did. Being the only child of two people who were as full of worry as her parents made everything much more…scary. More final, as if every choice that you make is taking you towards an untimely demise and even a day apart is too long when you could keel over dead at any moment.

Her dad held onto her for a longer time, she could hear his soft sniffles and assumed that he was crying and was holding onto her until he had stopped. Letting him have her moment, Fawn keeps her mouth shut about how her night went, forcing herself to come up with a story just in case they pressed her on it. She hoped to God that none of this would come to bite her in the butt.

The cool metal of the exam table makes the back of her thighs numb, her decision to wear shorts proving to be the dumbest thing she has ever done…or second dumbest thing. Her mother sat in the small chair, next to the exam table, clutching her purse and bouncing her leg. Did she think something bad was going to happen? Did she think Fawn was on the brink of death? Asking would just make her irritable, she was already mad they had to come to the doctors to begin with. Her mother hated the place with a passion, but never told Fawn why, maybe she was just anxious…either way she wasn't in the mood for questions.

The symptoms she had weren't strange in any way…Fawn thought she probably just had a stomach flu or something. Constant nausea, headaches, and a stuffy nose. Her mother thought differently though, ever since the day Fawn had stayed out all night her mother acted differently. As if she were suspicious of something. Thankfully Fawn hadn't missed a period, though it was lighter than usual and only lasted a couple days. She had thought this meant she was home free, that she had gotten away with whatever she did that led up to and included her virginity being taken by a stranger. But still, her mother insisted the doctor's office was the way to go.

The man entered the room, clipboard in hand and glaring at Fawn as if she had committed the ultimate sin. Taken aback she avoided eye contact with him, instead staring down at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the room. Why was he so mad? "Are you sexually active?" He asks in a monotone voice.

Fawn freezes, her kicking feet now hanging in the air, still as if something was holding them in place. She shakes her head. "No." She whispers out.

He sucks in a breath, moving around the room towards his stool. "Well, we tested for illnesses, and pregnancy."

"And?" Her mother asked. 'Please be the stomach flu. It has to be the stomach flu' she prays.

"She's pregnant."

Fawn's mother almost collapses out of the small chair she was sitting on, her body sliding down it as she wails into her hands. Fawn looks up at the doctor, her eyes wide in horror and confusion. She wanted to ask how'd this happen, she was so confused. One night couldn't have done this. She felt as if she were being punished by God for acting out. She sniffles and frowns, but gets no sympathy from the man in front of her. He only looks at her as if he’s disgusted. When he speaks again, she can’t hear him, too busy trying to calm her racing mind. By the time she stops disassociating, the doctor's appointment is over and she’s in the car with her yelling mother. “-you’re never leaving the house again! How did this even happen? Did you go out purely to be a little harlot?"

"Momma I-"

The woman was seething, her lips set in a line as she focused on the road. Fawn knew her mother was waiting on her to say something, but at the same time she knew saying anything, especially excuses, would just set her off more. She couldn't help but begin to cry, her life as she knew it was over. She messed up, she knew that, but being pregnant and unmarried was punishment enough, but seeing how angry her mother looked she knew that she was going to be punished more.

Her parents were never really abusive, never whooping or beating her, sometimes they yelled but it was usually her mother and it wasn't often. Then again she never really got into trouble, and if she did it was never anything like this. Her parents raised her in a straight line, hoping that with each passing generation their family could become something important in the world. Something more than their race and appearance and it started with her grandparents. She couldn't imagine what her grandmother would think now, and she was grateful that she lived far away enough that she wouldn't hear if the gossip ever left that hospital or their home.

Fawn shrinks into herself, her cries growing louder as her mother parks the car in the driveway to the house, a sigh leaving her lips, her chest falling quickly. She didn't want to go inside and face her father, she didn't want to see his disappointed face or hear his words as he scolded her. "God damn it. Fawn Grace! What the hell did you go out and do?"

Fawn looked up at her mother with a pitiful look, her hands were balling up her skirt. "I don't remember momma! I swear! I woke up in-in a motel room-!"

"A motel room?" Fawn's mothers voice rose an octave, higher than she had ever heard it before. Her mother slammed her hands onto the steering wheel, looking down and saying something under her breath while Fawn looked at her in fear. Shaking her head the woman kept her eyes closed while she spoke before getting out of the car, not even waiting for Fawn as she started towards the front door. Following behind Fawn says a quick prayer to herself, hoping God would forgive her sins and give her a break when it comes to her father's reaction.

Slowly removing herself from the car, she drags her feet as she approaches the door, already hearing her mother venting to her father. Heart pounding she enters the home, shutting the door softly as to not really call attention to herself as her parents speak to each other. Wincing, she tries to sneak past them, wanting to flee to her room and avoid whatever punishment they were going to give her. But no, God was not being so kind today, and her mother shouted her name forcing her to stop in her steps. “Yes ma’am?”

“Don’t you dare go upstairs, get over here now!”

Frowning, she hurries over to the couch, across from her parents who were standing, angry, in the middle of the living room. Her ears rang loudly as she tried to figure out if they were going to yell or not, both of them were silent. Swallowing down vomit, she picked at the hem of her shirt, avoiding looking at her parents in fear of seeing their disappointed faces. Her mother is the one to speak first, beginning with a sigh. “Fawn…we want an explanation. Now."

"Well...I told you in the car momma. I don't remember anything. I just woke up in a motel room by myself."

"How did you get there?" Her mothers voice shakes in an emotion Fawn couldn't place.

"I don't know!" She shakes her head frantically, eyes wide, "I swear it. I was at a bar, and somehow ended up there!"

"A BAR?" Her father spoke now, well more like shouted, obviously surprised.

She scrunched her nose as her father collapsed in his lounge chair. Her mother began pacing as Fawn tried to come up with whatever words she had to say next. She couldn't recount much, and she couldn't tell if that was going to anger then less or more. "Well, okay. I went there to be a brat! I admit that! But I promise I didn't go out to sleep with anyone! I don't even remember doing that! Last thing I remember is the bartender telling me that I shouldn't have one more drink, and because I was already mad I decided to drink one more, then I woke up in a bloody motel bed with a headache and sore legs and I regretted it as soon as I woke up!"

She had never been good at keeping secrets.

Her mother was hyperventilating and her father looked as if he was on the verge of passing out. She herself was about 2 seconds away from throwing up after word vomiting and exposing everything that she had gone through and thought of. Tears flowed down her face, warming her cold skin. Nothing was said for a while, the air tense and thick. Maybe nothing else would be said. Her words had done a good job of sucking all the air out of the room, her parents were obviously unhappy, angry at her actions. She could barely remember what all was said that made her storm out and go places that she had never been before. She ruined the legacy her grandmother wanted to create in one night, she was the first unremovable stain in their family history in recent years even though they wanted things to be different. She set them back single handedly, and had the audacity to sit and cry as if she had done nothing wrong.

"Momma?"

Her mother was crying, sitting as far away from her on the couch, hands over her face and praying aloud to God as if he could change everything that happened. Her father started bargaining, his words carrying over to her ears. It was like he wanted to accept that this was their family's fate, and that there was nothing he could do.

"It's not the old times anymore, these kids sleep around all the time. They're not like us, not like the 40's where everyone valued marriage and saving oneself. She can still be something, make something of herself even if it isn't a good wife…"

Her heart clenched as she turned to stare at her mother who was now rocking back at forth, but her words weren't as nice, if her father's words could even be counted as such.

"Can't believe…the child I raised! A loose legged hussy. Father God tell me it isn't true, tell me that my baby girl didn't give herself to some…BUM. That man could only be the devil if he took advantage of my sweet girl. She can't be a slut, a common whore! Not my baby…"

She wondered when they were going to stop crying, but at the same time she wondered when she herself would stop. She knew in her mind that this was a permanent thing, even without the baby, her parents were never going to loom at her the same. And she wasn't sure if her current relationships with them would survive this bump in the road.

With red eyes and a damp face, Fawn's mother turns to stare at her not quite with a glare, but with a look that showed that she was still angry, still grieving. "You ain't leaving this house," she takes in a shuddering breath, "ever again. You are going to stay here and hope and pray that whenever we let you out for errands that some man takes pity on you and thinks you're pretty enough that he doesn't care about the fact that you already gave yourself away or the fact that you have a child, and marries you."

Sucking in a breath, Fawn nods in understanding, this punishment being the only one she's going to get wasn't so bad. "I'm sorry momma…"

Her father does nothing but slide down in his chair, hands over his face. He had given up on praying aloud, given up on trying to bargain and hoping the circumstances were different. Shaking her head her mother scoots closer and wraps her in a hug, pulling her close against her chest her sobs starting back up. Not knowing what the future will bring, Fawn hugs her back.

Pregnancy was nothing like she expected it to be, and while she was excited to not get her period for a while, the cramping and bloating and cravings were unexpected. She hadn't known anyone else who was pregnant and didn't know what to expect especially because her parents refused to speak about it. It was as if it was a later problem, and she was being punished by not being prepared for it.

Now, standing in the middle of the grocery store, Fawn rubbed her still flat stomach staring at the boxed brownies as if she could teleport them into her stomach without having to make or buy it. She had a budget, a list of things her parents sent her to buy, and now having less allowance money she didn't know if she should buy what she was craving or save the money for what she needed and wanted later on. Her parents didn't say anything about her getting a job, but she thought that maybe she should…just in case.

Brownies and ice cream, not an unusual craving, but one that was so overwhelming she throws two boxes into her cart before looking towards the pies. Thinking about a pie made only of the crust, she licks her lips and moves towards it only to be stopped by a white, pale hand, also grabbing the box she was going for. "'Scuse me," she retracts her hand quickly just as the woman does.

The woman smiles brightly, grabbing at the box again with one hand while swatting at Fawn gently. "Don't worry about it, sugar! Looks like both of us are cravin' somethin' sweet tonight!" The gap between her teeth gives her more of a youthful look, confusing Fawn as to how old the woman really was. She looked young, but calling someone sugar was something her parents would do. Maybe she was in between?

"Yeah…though I think what I have is enough. Don't want to overdo it." Fawn laughs awkwardly, not quite used to being pregnant and socializing. Though there was not conceivable difference, she still felt as if she had to behave in a certain way, she was pregnant pretending not to be pregnant in front of a stranger that probably doesn't and wouldn't care. A stranger she would most likely never see again.

"So you do! Those brownies are gonna be so delicious, I'm sure!"

Talking about the brownies made the craving swell, and the words fell out of Fawn's mouth without her thinking, the excitement of eating it taking over. "Hope so! I was plannin' on puttin' some ice cream on em' letting it cool the brownies down while the brownies melt the ice cream!" Fawn lets her accent slip a bit, the perfectly crafted non-Texas more Californian sound her parents wanted her to use. She sounded more like herself now, more countrified like the woman in front of her.

"That sounds good!"

Nodding, Fawn lets the conversation die so she can hurry and finish shopping, wanting to quickly get home before her parents get worried and ban her from even shopping, and to make and eat the brownie before the craving is too dull to satisfy. The woman doesn't let her walk away though, grabbing her by the hand and spinning her to face her again, looking down at her body.

"My! Your dress is awfully pretty, where'd you get it?"

Surprised, Fawn looks down at her own dress. It wasn't that pretty, it was more on the plain side, but maybe the woman genuinely liked it. "Made it myself…" she replied. She wanted to go on, gush about how difficult it was to make even though it's nothing special and as plain as can be, but the ice cream aisle was calling her name.

"Did you? Oh, I love to sew! I made this dress I'm wearin'. Grandpa said I looked pretty! My brothers are pretty mean, though, but I guess that's just how brothers are…"

The woman continued to speak, not letting her get a word out to excuse herself from the conversation. Talking about her brothers and some boyfriend or something and how much she missed him. The woman talked so long that Fawn now had to pee, and still she wasn't stopping.

"Sissy? Where in the hell did you-"

Fawn turns her head towards the voice, taken aback at the sight in front of her. The man is attractive, more attractive than any man she had seen anytime recently. These types of looks were rare in the middle of nowhere Texas, and while people were attractive, he was just…different. Maybe it was the way he held himself. Maybe she had finally found a guy that was her type.

The man, on the other hand, looked like he had seen a ghost. His eyes were locked onto Fawn, and she could feel her body heating up from how strongly he was staring at her. Shiftly awkwardly, she looked back towards the woman who had stopped talking, she was now smiling brightly at the man who was still frozen at the end of the aisle. "Johnny!" The woman turns towards Fawn, grasping her arm. "This is one of my brothers!"

"Yeah…I guessed so."

The man approached slowly, eyes still on Fawn, she could feel it. "Sissy, I've been waiting outside for 30 minutes. You're supposed to buy the groceries to come out. They're gonna be pissed off that we took too long." When she looked back at him he was glaring at the blonde next to her.

The way he glared made her heart drop, and she was glad that she wasn't the target of his…annoyance. Blinking, she laughed awkwardly, backing away from the two, immediately taking the chance to run off and finish her shopping. She couldn't wait another 30 minutes before finishing and peeing, so she rushes to get everything done, not forgetting the ice cream.

The second she got home, and got comfortable, her mind wandered to the strange siblings she met. They both seemed strange, in different ways but still strange. Still, she hoped to see at least the man again. Maybe he could be the man that takes pity on her, and doesn't care about the fact that she has a kid on the way.

Or maybe she's delusional, and lusting after the first man she sees.

[prpfz]

Hiya! 🕊 I'm a 21+ semi-lit to literate role-player casting a wide net for some of my favorite horror series with dying fandoms. As long as I can play as my favorite characters I welcome all OC's and crossover content. I also love AUs, multi-muse plots, and I prefer chatting OOC in between replies to keep me invested.

Below are all the characters I play. Over DMs I can give more information about possible ships, AUs, and plot ideas.

📞 Black Phone - Al Shaw(The Grabber), Max Shaw, Vance Hopper and Gwen Blake.

🎈It (2017) - The entirety of the Bower's Gang. Henry Bowers, Patrick Hockstetter, Victor Criss, Reginald Huggins, and lesser known book characters.

🪲 BeetleJuice - BeetleJuice- especially with AUs from the original script. (No BeetleBabes. I have nothing against it but I've gotten really bored with it in past RPs.)

🔪Child's Play - Chucky (Charles Lee Ray) but AU heavy with strong preference to human portrayal. Eddie Caputo, Andy Barclay, Glen and Glenda Tilly.

🍽 Texas Chainsaw Massacre - All of the original Sawyer brothers (Nubbins, Chop Top, Drayton) but particularly Leatherface (Jedidiah) himself. I follow the original timeline and ignore the remakes but I have a soft spot for Eddie "Tex" Sawyer.

Dead dove content is to be expected. The triggers present in the original series are likely to carry over to the role-plays. In particular I'd love to have some toxic relationships and someone open to writing smut. Bring me your most deranged characters or unwilling victims caught up in a killer's obsession!

give a like and anon will get back to you

[slashingdisneypasta]

How would your horror/slasher faves take care of you when you're sick? 🥺 (I know you've done a cheering up hcs before but maybe this is a lil different ^^)

Get well soon!! Take care of yourself <333

THIS IS SO SWEET! Thank you! ^^ <3<3<3 I hope you're doing better too with your life stuff or at least you will be very soon ^^

I took this opportunity to be super super self indulgent! XD 😅

Horror Villains x Reader || Headcanons +Imagines at the Bottom

Topic: Taking care of you when you're sick ^^

Includes (For HC's): Jim Bickerman and Otis B. Driftwood. Included (For Imagines): Bo Sinclair, Chucky Lee Ray, Drayton Sawyer, Freddy Krueger and Jeffrey Hawk/The Clown. (They aren't in this order, sorry 😅)

Warnings: Otis fucking Driftwood (Meaning nasty smut hc's and a liiitle dub con)

Jim Bickerman:

If you get really clingy when you're sick like me (Opposite to me when I'm healthy 😅😅) he is absolutely on board with that XD Honestly he loves having you sticking close to him, going to him for warmth, laughing a little too easy at dumb jokes, listening intently to whatever he's saying... he eats it up. You're like an adorable little puppy dog, hangin' onto him. He'll almost be disappointed when you get better and don't act like that anymore 😅😅😅

"... Do you need help gettin' changed? I'm happy to help y'out pumpkin, really! Ul-ulterior motive?? No... "

Usually he's a frozen meal kinda man; he's probably got a freezer just packed full of pizza's and little microwave meals, and the most gourmet thing he 'cooks' regularly is campfire sausages in the backyard- but he knows how to make chicken soup and mash some potato's and that's his first duty when you wake up sick as a dog.

You get to wear one of his flannels when you're sick (:(:(: Its big and thick and probably smells like spilled alcohol.

He's probably gonna get himself sick too because he can not stay away from you. He'll be sat next to you most of the time- watching tv with you and entertaining you, eating soup with you, having tea with you, napping with you- basically, this is not your sickness. This is both of y'alls sickness 😅😅😅

"Here, this'll help. Promise ya."

"... That is a bottle of bourbon."

"Exactly." *Shakes it in your face*

Otis B Driftwood (NSFW mostly)

You think a little bit of snot is gonna deter this freak man??? Uh, no. He's still going to try and fuck you if he can swing it. You look so fucking cute with your sore, sore red nose from wiping so much, the bags under your eyes are sexy as hell to him, and you're moving so damn slowly... you think he isn't gonna take that as an opportunity?

So yeah... he is actually quite into you when you're sick. And he'll probably exhaust you to the point that you'll be sleeping a lot and get through this much faster then usual!

He will kiss you, full on the mouth with a foul amount of tongue (Lets see if we can soothe your throat, baby), so I hope his immune system is good.

He is happy to just warm his cock in you while you sleep, or lay there and babble because you're half really unwell and halfway to an orgasm at the same time. You're just so fucking cute.

He is also happy to eat you out/blow you and overstimulate you for hours. What?? This way he wont get sick himself! Isn't that better, you gross, diseased little slut?

Otis also doesn't shy away from mess (Obviously), so if you have tissues everywhere he's not gonna look at you sideways or anything ^^ Which is such a load off my mind, at least! ^^

He's not gonna make you something good to eat, but he's not a total animal- especially when he gets older. He will make you a cup of tea, and you better like it XD

You need a ride to the bathroom? Otis will haul you on his shoulder the whole way and set you down right on the toilet seat 😅 You need someone to hold you up in the shower? Otis is on it- he needs a shower anyway.

+ Imagines

Another one who does not give a damn how 'gross' you might be when you're sick is Jeffrey/the clown. He'll have you set on his big lap snoozing against his shoulder or sniffling and coughing into tissues while he messes around with different potions in his trailer, just keeping you warm and comfortable there. He says if you can put up with him coughing and hacking all over ya all the time he can damn sure handle you're adorable fucken self whimpering into his shoulder all day.

If you tend to have bad dreams when you're unwell due to your fever like I do: Imagine frowning in your sleep, pressing your lips together in a tight line as the scenes in your head just replay or get worse the harder you try to get rid of them or distract yourself. But there's immediate relief as soon as Freddy enters your dream. Just his presence is comforting to you ^^

Imagine convincing Drayton to come to bed with you instead of back to work. It takes some convincing, but its no secret he likes you more then anyone else in the world- literally- and he gives in after a while. He gets back in, fully clothed, and delicately but purposefully gets in close so you can cuddle up to him, sayin 'just for a couple minutes okay??' very sternly, before he falls asleep to you stroking his surprisingly soft hair.

Imagine sitting on a bench in Bo's shop while he works, slowly just making your way through a roll of toilet paper there because you just couldn't bear to be away from him- even if he was paying little attention to you. Imagine him, though, taking a break eventually and standing between your legs, his hands warm on your thighs, to ask you how yer goin, doll?

Chucky's conscious of your illness and does not want to get it, but he'll sit out on the ground on the other side of your bedroom door and talk to you through it. Ask you if you're alive still, talk about whatever goes through his head just to hear you hum in acknowledgement, play 20 questions while he fiddles with a lighter... that kind of thing. And he'll also cook you some soup later (He's just an asshole- not an incompetent asshole).