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cemetery-sunset · 6 months ago

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🍖How the Sawyer Family Self Destructs

Texas Chain Saw Massacre Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Trigger warnings: self harm, cutting, eating problems, drugs, drinking, verbal and physical abuse, mentions of murder, canon-typical violence

Word count: 2k

☮️Chop-Top

Chop is a messy one. He mostly ignores his own problems, mental and physical, and makes jokes about all of them, he takes nothing seriously and just decides not to fix any problem he has. He never talks seriously about his time in the army, he only ever drops hints about what happened through jokes. The only thing he will be slightly serious about is the plate in his head. He’s only slightly serious about it when he needs help with something like cleaning it or trying to get a dent out. Even when that’s happening, he’s being stupid and making jests about the situation.

Sometimes he genuinely forgets to eat, he gets too distracted or too focused on some project… and sometimes he just decides not to. The food problems come from his time in the military. He got little food, much less any good food, when he was in Vietnam and it changed his relationship with eating. He usually gets forced to sit down and eat with the family. If he doesn’t eat with the family, he’s not going to eat for one reason or another.

He spends quite a lot of time smoking weed and trying to forget everything. Sometimes when he gets too high, he ends up blacking out and when he comes down, he doesn’t really know what he’s said or done. He thinks that’s funny.

Bobby always has his lighter on him, for smoking and for scratching his plate. Sometimes Chop uses his lighter and burns himself. He likes feeling the heat on his hand and seeing the wounds that he can inflict. He just likes playing with the flames and ends up burning himself, whether by accident or not.

He burns himself more than he cuts himself, but he still loves doing both. Sometimes he will make patterns or designs on his skin, sometimes he just gets too into it and ends up slicing up his whole arm or leg. It starts out just wanting to feel something and then his brain switches into a tunnel vision and he just keeps going, getting too excited about the look and the feeling. It’s usually not deep, they’re just on the surface; just enough to bleed and leave small scars.

📷Nubbins

Nubbins is the most pathetic one in the most dictionary sense. The biggest thing he does is constantly seek out abuse from his family. It’s mostly Drayton that gives it to him, but Nancy and Johnny are not the nicest to him either. Drayton constantly hits him and degrades him and yet Nubbins always comes back for more. There’s no way he can stop, he always ends up seeking out his brother and expecting a different result. He just ends up with more bruises and cuts.

He really neglects any type of self care. He never bathes, he only actually cleans himself when somebody forces him too and even then it’s a huge chore for him so they usually just clean him up themselves. Nubbins is just overall really bad at taking care of himself. Sometimes it’s a simple mistake of forgetting but a lot of times he just doesn’t care enough about himself to take care of his body, much less his brain or heart.

The most obvious one is that he cuts. It’s not crazy and frenzied like how Bobby does it. Nubbins is more for quality over quantity. He does them deep and slow; he makes sure that they hurt and will leave a scar for him to fond over. It doesn’t happen super often, just when he’s specifically feeling a little frantic that day. It’s like the world gets too much and he needs something to focus on. He loves how the wounds look and prods at them and plays with his blood. He never cleans the wounds or wraps them up on purpose, he likes when things get messy and he gets blood stains on his clothes.

🌼Sissy

Most of Sissy’s self destruction is the way he just plainly ignores all of her needs. She will eat very little, barely bathe, forget to drink until she’s nearly sick, she is just reckless and apathetic about literally everything. She has to be dragged into the bath and she will throw hands over it, she only ever eats at the specific mealtimes and always has small portions. With her constant bare feet, she never cares about how dirty she is or if she gets any injuries while she works. If she does get a cut or bruise while working, she pokes it and makes it worse on purpose. It’s not necessarily to force a scar or make the blood spill, she just likes the feeling and gets caught up in causing herself that pain.

She is similar to Bubba in terms of recklessness. Sissy is very rash and not necessarily elegant in her movements or practices. She’s accidently hurt herself with all manner of tools and weapons around the property. It could be tripping from running too fast, smashing her finger with a hammer or slicing her own hand with her straight razor while sharpening it. It’s not that she has no regard for herself because she is a servant, like Bubba. Sissy is just so confident in herself that she forgets how fragile human beings are. She remembers how fragile they are when she’s got victims in front of her, and she constantly reminds them of this fact. She just forgets that her own body is also just as fragile. It’s like she holds herself on a different level than normal human beings.

Another similarity to Bubba is the effect that the constant verbal, and sometimes physical, abuse has on her. Sissy is a punching bag for Drayton, Nancy, and even Johnny sometimes. Nubbins and Chop sometimes make jokes at her expense, and she has a lot of trouble taking them as jokes. All of the negative comments and horrible things said to her really stick with her and bother her. She struggles with her identity as she flips back and forth between the holy cult confident mentality and the poor abuse victim who can’t do anything right. She tries her best to act like it never bothers her but unlike Johnny, Sissy is terrible at poker and struggles with staying calm and collected. Her emotions always get the best of her and she ends up blowing up and having a fit over it all, which never ends well for her. She usually ends up with a few more new bruises to poke at.

When Bobby is having one of his smoke sessions, Sissy likes to join in. She likes feeling that blacked out, fuzzy-brained giddy attitude. She also brings some of her own drugs to the party though. The plants she grows for her poison clouds have many different uses and she’s studied them well. Sissy will smoke them and end up tripping bad, she never feels good afterward, but that out of body experience that she feels is so otherworldly that she could never just give that up. Part of her love comes from when she ran with multiple different cults on her adventures. Some taught her that she would see god if she smoked, some taught her that she would be god if she smoked. The habit started there and then just kept going. She doesn’t do it all the time, it’s like a special thing that is reserved for either a certain day or when she’s really struggling. She does get the normal high with Chop more often than she uses her own special supply.

🐔Bubba

Bubba’s is pretty straight forward. He doesn’t cut or burn himself (on purpose, he struggles with being careful). He will actively hit himself though. Sometimes it’s his fists pounding at his head, sometimes he hits his head on a wall, or something of that sort. He’s grown so used to Drayton’s abuse that at this point in his life, it almost brings him a sort of comfort. Bubba knows that no matter how much Drayton hits him and yells at him that Drayton will always be there to look out for him. Whenever he hits himself, it is his way of punishing himself, like he did something wrong and he knows it. But it’s also a type of comfort to him. When things get too overwhelming, he needs something to bring him down a few notches, and that just so happens to be forceful punches to his own head.

Bubba does the same thing that Nubbins does, they both always run back to Drayton’s abuse. No matter how big the bruises are, or how much the words hurt Bubba, the big boy will always bow down and serve his big brother. All he wants is a tiny taste of praise but Drayton will never give him any. Even when he does a good job, Drayton will make up random things to be mad at. Bubba believes himself to just be a toy, a puppet for everybody else to use for whatever reason. He’s been conditioned to always listen to Drayton, help chase down and kill victims and always be ready to jump at anybody’s beck and call. He was told so many times that that is all he will ever be, so now he believes it.

Bubba is a very large and strong man. Sometimes he is clumsy with his tools and weapons, but more often than not, he is just simply reckless. He throws all caution into the wind and takes no regard for his own safety and wellbeing. If he’s worried about anybody’s safety it’s his family’s, never his own. He runs around with his chain saw, cuts meat up too fast and doesn’t pay attention when he’s sewing a project together. He hurts himself constantly and never takes care of the injuries. They’re usually not very big wounds, but they add up after a while. Bubba is always covered in scars, cuts and bruises from many different sources.

🔪Johnny

Besides working on the cars or mechanics around the property, Johnny’s favorite pastime is having a drink at the local bar. He gets very indulgent with his drinks and has at least a few beers daily. When he’s having a particularly hard day, he indulges in the harder stuff, but he doesn’t allow himself to ever blackout or get so drunk that he makes a fool of himself in public, he has an image to uphold. He doesn’t even let his guard down enough to get black out drunk in the safety of his own home, he would rather just have a constant buzz throughout a normal day.

As strong and important as Johnny is to the family, he gets a lot of verbal and sometimes physical abuse from Drayton and Nancy in particular. Drayton only ever yells horrible things at him, the old man fears what would happen if he ever tried to hit the much larger and stronger man. Nancy is a different story. She only ever speaks highly of her son to other people, but she holds him at an impossible standard and always reminds him of that. She hits him too. Nancy is the only person who ever gets away with hitting The Johnny Sawyer. He’s gotten more than a few bruises from her. Johnny tries to hold up the facade that nothing bothers him and he is super confident, but that’s not entirely true. The negative comments and constant berating really does wear him down and he believes what they all say about him. He makes sure not to show his weakness to any of them, but it just cuts open his insides and leaves invisible scars that hurt just as much as his real scars.

Johnny has a huge love for his knives. He loves the action of cutting people or animals open and seeing the damage it, and he, can do. It gives him this crazy power trip and gets him really excited. Sometimes Johnny takes his knife and cuts himself. It’s nothing crazy and it doesn’t happen too often, he likes the pain of it and how it makes him look. He thinks the battle scars make him look stronger and tougher. He would never admit it to anybody that a fair number of the many scars littering his body are self inflicted. It helps his facade that he naturally gets a ton of cuts and wounds from fighting victims and his general blue collar working.

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creepling · 1 year ago

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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.

#texas chainsaw massacre #tcm game #johnny slaughter x reader #sissy slaughter x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #leatherface x reader #nubbins sawyer x reader #drayton sawyer x reader #tcm drabbles #creepling.brainrot

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countlessimagines · 6 months ago

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Something in His Eyes [ Johnny Slaughter x Reader ]

Summary: You find out the hard way why being close to Johnny was never a good idea.

A/N: I’m obsessed with the game so it was only right to write something for Johnny <3

Warnings: General Texas chainsaw massacre content, blood, mentions of killings and death

You had been laying on the grass, basking in the sun all afternoon when your mother called you into the house. You had lived on a farm and your nearest neighbors were the Sawyers who lived a couple miles down the road.

She had interrupted your sun bathing to send you to the grocery store for a few items that she needed for dinner. She shooed you off with the list and you took your bike with a little basket to carry the groceries.

You had to pass the Sawyer house on the way to the store, so you decided to see if they needed anything. And it was more of an excuse to see Johnny.

You had met him a few months ago during the summer, when he explained to you that there was a family emergency that required him to stay at the family house instead of with his mother Nancy.

You made it a habit to say hello to Sissy every few days. You never cared to say hello to Drayton though, as he always gave you side eyes and would sneer whenever Johnny would jog just a little faster to see you at the fence.

While you had invited Johnny to your house multiple times, he never seemed to invite you into his family’s house. It didn’t bug you as much since he never even took you up on your invites.

It wasn’t long before you made it to their house, honking the small horn on your bike to see if anyone was home to hear.

After a minute of waiting, Johnny appeared from the back of the house. He did a jog to close the distance between the two of you, especially since the driveway was so long.

He gave you a giant grin once he was close enough. “Hey there, pumpkin!”

You blushed at the nickname, but tried to hide it. “Hi, Johnny.”

“What brings you here?” He got close enough and you could see the sweat beading down his temple, and how his breathing was short and scattered. You failed to notice the bleeding knife in his pocket.

“Making a run to the grocery store. Wanted to see if you needed anything?”

“I think we’re good. Drayton is making his famous chili.” Johnny said, almost giving you a look once over but stopping himself.

“Ah, I forgot he cooks. Does he wear a little apron as well?” You joked, poking Johnny on his abs. You tried to refrain another blush from how toned he was.

He chuckled, giving you a wink. “He does, but that’ll be our little secret since he never lets anyone cook with him.”

You nodded, pretending to lock your lips and throw away the key.

“I was meaning to ask you, have you been listening to the radio? They ended up finding the car of Maria Flores! Isn’t it crazy that she just upped and disappeared?”

Johnny tensed but you didn’t seem to notice since he smooth talked his way out of it. “Yeah, real crazy, pumpkin. But they said no foul play so there’s no chance they’ll find her at this rate. She probably ran away.”

You shrugged, not entirely sure yourself. Your mother had gotten worried for your safety, but you promised her you would keep a pocket knife on you at all times and if you could, have Johnny accompany you.

“Most likely. Crazy stuff though.” You said and tried to change the topic. “I’m gonna head to the store now. See you in a bit.”

Johnny smiled and waved you off.

Once you were farther in the distance, he sighed and returned to the back of the house.

He removed his knife from his pocket and wiped it on his thigh. He was only a few feet away from the barn when Sissy exited, covered in blood.

“You know she’s gonna come looking one day, Johnny.” She sneered, leaning against the wood frame and crossing her arms. “She’ll end up just like Maria. Then you’ll really have to up and leave.”

Johnny rolled his eyes at her and stomped into the barn, making sure to shove her shoulder.

He didn’t want to think of a reality where you and his family intertwined. He imagined every scenario and none of them seemed to look good for you. You were his perfect little ray of sunshine, but he feared his heart was too far gone to let any light in.

He was worried the side of him that hurt people would eventually bleed into the side that didn’t want to hurt you. But that instinct would always be there whether he liked it or not. Especially since Nancy instilled it in him so long ago.

He touched the scar on his face, remembering that day so long ago when he finally confronted Nancy for killing his birth mother. He had been scarred by her, permanently damaged inside and out.

He always fantasized about ending Nancy once and for all, for what she did to his true mother.

Bubba was fixing his chainsaw after it had overheated multiple times without him doing anything. He gave Johnny a grunt and that was that.

Johnny looked at the table in front of him, seeing the scattered pieces of meat that they were going to bring into the house for Drayton to cook with.

He liked to think that maybe he could convince you they were actually just butchers, but the skeleton decorations might give it away.

He also feared Nancy finding out about you. Soon enough he would return home and the thought of leaving you behind scared him. What if you followed him like a lost puppy? What if you visited him as a surprise without any warning?

What if Nancy…

Johnny didn’t want to think about it anymore.

He knew what Sissy said was right. You would eventually find your way into the house like they all did.

He just hoped that maybe this time it would be different.

The next day, you drove your bike as usual to the Sawyer’s house. A few rings of your bike bell and Johnny was rushing to the front.

His usual happy demeanor was not present.

“Hey, Johnny.” You still gave him a smile and wave.

He did a grunt and crossed his arms. “I uh, I’m busy right now. What’s the matter?”

“Oh.” You said, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Nothing much. Just wanted to see if you were up for hanging out.” You tried to not show your hurt.

“Not right now, pumpkin. Maybe another time.” He seemed stressed, so you placed a delicate hand on his toned arm.

“Everything alright?” You asked with those innocent eyes that made him feel weak. He hated that he felt that way towards you… so weak and vulnerable, breaking at the seams, his dark demeanor, that monster screaming inside of him to end you… you made those thoughts go away… maybe that’s why Maria’s friends were still in his family’s basement, not yet dead because Johnny hesitated looking into Ana’s eyes… seeing her sister…

Was this the life he wanted to lead?

Johnny didn’t realize you were growing worried, waiting for him to answer. “Fine, pumpkin.”

His eyes didn’t sparkle like they usually did.

In the distance, you spotted something, though.

A girl with bright orange hair was in the far right of property, rummaging through a blue box in the barn. Instant worry and suspicion ran through you as you pointed to her. “Who’s that?”

Johnny whipped around instantly, his shoulders tense.

“Shit,” he muttered. “I gotta go. I’ll talk to you when it’s convenient.”

You were offended and made sure to show it. “Johnny, what’s going on?”

Before he could answer you, the orange girl had stopped her search and noticed you, standing there as innocent as ever. She began to shout much to the dismay of Johnny.

“Help me! Please! This family is torturing us!” She wept and started running towards you.

Johnny let out a low grunt and faced you. “I’m sorry, pumpkin.”

“What?” You blinked, wondering if it was some prank… it had to be.

Johnny lunged for you, grabbing you around your waist and forcefully pulling you off your bike. He tried shushing you. “Stop movin’.”

“Johnny!” You screamed, hitting his arms as he roughly dragged you towards the orange hair woman.

Once you were on the property, you noticed the metal sheet now behind you started buzzing with electricity. You were trapped like a cattle waiting for slaughter.

The orange hair girl started screaming which made you whip your head towards her. She was being brutally murdered by a man with a chainsaw.

You let out a horrific scream, slamming against Johnny with all your force. “Let me go!”

“I’m sorry it had to be this way, pumpkin.” Johnny’s voice was sincere, but as you looked up into his face, it was stone cold.

He started walking towards their house, and out strolled Sissy covered head to toe in blood.

“Oh! (Y/n) is finally joining us? Will she be for dessert tonight?” She cackled which made your eyes widen in fear.

“Not now, sissy, go deal with the rest of ‘em.”

Sissy rolled her eyes and scoffed. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for you! And now you’re bringing your plaything. Just wait til your mama gets here!” She ran off somewhere in the house, and you finally got a good look inside of it as Johnny brought in your flailing body.

“I said, stop movin’!” Johnny yelled and placed you down firmly. He held your shoulders as you began to shake in fear. “You need to listen to me, right now.”

You shook your head profusely as if it could take away all the bones surrounding you in their house. If the image of the orange haired woman being sawed alive would disappear. “Johnny, let me go!”

He kept you firm in place and stared deeply into your widened eyes. “I knew you’d see this side of me eventually… I just didn’t realize this soon. You… you don’t get a choice when it comes to this family. It’s either be eaten or become one of us.”

Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. Johnny had to be lying. Your sweet Johnny was playing a prank, surely.

He continued on, “(Y/n), you are not fit for this world. I… I can’t let you become like me…”

You were able to bring your arms up and slam them against his chest. “Johnny please!”

He slowly eased his grip on you, but he didn’t want you to escape… he had you right there… his mind was running rampant at the thoughts that consumed him.

His heart ached at the sight of your tears and how you looked at him with so much confusion and were terrified of his family.

Ached.

Johnny didn’t realize fully what he was doing until you were screaming, thrown over his shoulder once again.

He began to rush through the house, and it took your all not to throw up at the sight of a woman hooked to a wooden post.

Was this to be your fate, too?

Johnny hurriedly went out a back patio door and through a series of steps before throwing you in the back of a car. He locked it before you could reach the handle.

You screamed and slammed your palms against the windows, praying that someone would answer and rescue you.

Johnny tried not to acknowledge your pleas as he hot-wired the car. He couldn’t think this idea through, or his family would slaughter you and make him watch.

His heartbeat only intensified as he heard his mother’s voice ring out across the yard. He finished what he needed to do and slammed the hood of the car down.

Johnny got into the car quickly, ignoring your whimpering in the back seat.

You were hysterical as he drove off, taking a back exit out of the property.

The only sound in the car was your occasional sniffs as he drove for thirty minutes in the middle of nowhere. He had gone a back road that you had never seen before, but you were able to see the back of your house fly by as he paid it no mind.

He wasn’t taking you home.

You slowly composed yourself enough to speak up. “Where are you taking me?”

Fear made your stomach turn as he sharply looked at you through the mirror. Coldness glazed his eyes, and no longer could you see the man you had grown to love.

Love. What a stupid feeling.

It was the reason you were there at their house. You loved spending time with him. You were growing fonder of him.

It was the reason why Johnny was driving you far away from his family. The side of him that was weak had grown attached to you. It frightened him.

Would it one day switch on you? Would you be another of his countless victims? Was his love for you too grand that he might do something reckless.

He supposed he already had.

His decision was sinking in.

He briefly turned in his seat to look at you.

Your hair was disheveled, your mascara ran down your cheeks in an ever-fading cry, your hands were tucked around yourself, trying to keep yourself together.

You were still the innocent girl he loved.

“We’re going far away, pumpkin. A place where nobody will hurt us.”

You wanted to believe Johnny, you truly did… but there was something in his voice.

Doubt.

Because Johnny didn’t even know if he could promise that he wouldn’t hurt you.

#tcsm #TCM #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw game #texas chainsaw massacre game #johnny slaughter #johnny sawyer #johnny slaughter x reader #Johnny slaughter imagine #johnny sawyer x reader #Texas chainsaw #sissy sunshine sawyer #sissy sunshine #sissy sunshine slaughter #nancy slaughter #drayton sawyer #bubba sawyer #nubbins sawyer

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simplyelviss · 1 year ago

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Here's some pictures I took of johnny while playing him lol

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bunniekittiee · 1 year ago

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Would Johnny and Nubbins feel jealous if someone watches or tries to flirt with their s / o?

I tried my best with both lol and I also tried to make sure they weren’t ooc.

Nubbins:

He would not feel exactly jealous if someone was watching his significant other, but more “wtf *head tilt*”.

Given that he’s new to the dating thing, he’s not exactly sure how to handle certain aspects of a relationship.

He knows his s/o is spectacular to look at, but that’s his s/o, not theirs.

He would try to scare the person off by acting unhinged or making it known that you are his.

But if they persist with their watchful eye, he’s not letting them get away so easily.

He will lure them in and pluck their eyes out, watching with joy as they squirm in pain.

He gets rid of an annoying pest and feeds the family, it’s a win-win!

However, when it comes to others flirting with his s/o, he definitely gets jealous.

You are his, and his only! No one else will come in between that.

He becomes much more possessive and angry, not the spontaneous and hyper Nubbins you are used to.

Nubbins does not wait to kill them, he will immediately put hands on them with murderous intentions.

Nubbins remembers faces very well, so if he cannot do it in the moment, he will make sure they pay a price for their behavior.

Even if it means claiming you in front of their tied up body, he will do it.

Nubbins makes sure that they are good and dead. He doesn’t want to risk losing you, especially when you mean so much to him.

He knows it’s not your fault, so he’s sweet to you afterwards. He will revert back to his usual, bubbly self and make dark humored jokes about the body.

Overall is very silly after all is said and done.

Johnny:

Oh lord, you better start praying.

Johnny is extremely possessive of his s/o no matter what circumstances.

Given that, he has a lot of jealousy issues and gets jealous over little things.

Johnny’s had much more experience than Nubbins when it comes to dating, so if someone is watching you, he makes it VERY known you are claimed.

Whether it’s man-handling your ass, wrapping an arm around you tightly, or pulling you in for a kiss, he marks his territory and makes it very clear you are off the table.

But if they persist, he confronts them and he is real mean about it.

Will either get in a fist fight or if he’s on the Sawyer property, will kill them.

And if someone is flirting with his s/o, they are just begging for a death wish!

He is too pissed off to even make an effort to mark you, he will start beating the shit out of whoever is flirting with you.

Sometimes if he’s in a real fucked up mood, he will take them back to the house and torture them.

He will fuck you right in front of their tied up body and degrades both you and the flirtatious person.

Afterwards, he is still pissed off.

He will blame you for it, whether it’s the clothes you wore (not like you wear anything revealing when it’s Johnny controlling you), or he will accuse you of egging the person on.

Makes you feel real bad about it and will make you cry.

Does not apologize, he doesn’t say “sorry” ever.

If he feels bad after he calms down, he will get you your favorite snacks and spend some quality time doing what ever you like.

#slashers #slasher community #texas chainsaw game #texas chainsaw massacre #johnny sawyer #johnny slaughter #nubbins sawyer #johnny slaughter x reader #nubbins sawyer x reader #slasher fandom

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melodrama-ticcc · 7 months ago

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— “ 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐥 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 ” ; 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐗

𝐄𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝

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, 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.

—

Strange, the way the catalyst of soul festers in her like the plague, decaying and rotten, rancid and ugly. Like a hollow corpse left to bleach in the sun, half blackened and infested with maggots and worms. The sounds of bugs twisting and crawling against moist rotted flesh filling the hot, wet air, cooking in the scorching heat of a Texan sun. The vultures long since had their way with it, the torn bits of matter ripped from ivory bone an indication of such. It tore down just as much as it built up, with the sun setting the moon rising, and then, peace.

Not even he could discern what festered up in that head of her’s, not even daddy, not even nobody, nobody at all.

And yet, he believes he does, and tries to anyways. Watching the gears twist and turn like clockwork, and her expression scrunch up in an endearing and bittersweet manner. Her brows tilted downward in some fervent way, a scowl, perhaps she’d seen something she disliked.

He wears his own look stern, as he studies her thoroughly from the driver’s seat of that old white pick up truck. Her gaze flickering too and fro, not sparing him so much as a glance. He liked that about her.

“Gotta lotta floozies, don’t it?”

“Easy targets, can’t do shit when they ain’t care so much as a penny.”

“Thought you liked a challenge?”

“Tch.” The scent of chewing tobacco is thick, as Johnny spits it out the window. The muffled sound of metal clinking as the truck shifts with his weight fills the cabin, which billows slightly, before the latch on the door snaps open and his boots hit the marsh below. With the slam of the door Becca stares at him, inquisitive, and curious. It’s only when he saunters around the front of the truck and opens her door that he looks to her, a stern apparition over his features as he lifts her from the seat — hands planted firmly on either side of her waist — as he places her upright above the ground. Their bodies shielded by the cold metal door he holds her there, a knowing look in those eyes. It’s the same notion that gives her butterflies and makes her heart work a little harder, throbbing with the faint nose of tobacco and stale cigarette smoke, one which she’d become enthralled with, addicted to. One might say she was smitten, and yet, her feminine fragility proved far stronger than that. Infatuated, but not without self respect. Stubbornness faired a good fight in her.

And still the strong burly grip he has on her waist is intoxicating, drawing her in slowly with lingering dominance and enticement. As with his hardened gaze, one which she meets with a bitter sentiment. Her hands can’t seem to find comfort, longing for the rough touch of his skin, settling for the top of his chest. Clad in the same black cotton he typically frequented.

“Now you listen here, this how it’s gonna go. You gon’ get in there and wait about five minutes for me to show up. I want yer’ eyes peeled, you watch me, I give you a sign and you head out and hide nice and quiet in that backseat. Ain’t so much as a peep outta you, watch and learn you got that? And so help me God if I see any of those snotty ass university boys so much as look your way, I’ll park yer ass in this truck so fast it’ll make yer head spin.”

“Thought I was ‘spost to be learnin’, the hell is sittin’’n lookin’ pretty gonna do?”

“Yer gonna have to trust me on that darlin’, ain’t much else to it.” He can’t tell, but by the looks of her soured face it seems he’d have a begrudging agreement.

“You aughtta learn, now we got an understandin’?”

“Obliged.”

“Right, so get on in there would ya’ and quit wastin’ time.”

“Johnny boy I swear I’ll turn you purple if you ain’t watch that tongue with me, quit it. I’m goin’ already.” The pop of her pink bubblegum punctuates her anger, only to be adorned with the ornery smacks of her muddied boots against the damp soil.

Loud and dark, with the old country music blaring so loud she can feel it gurgle her insides the deeper she goes into the place. The dance floor is lined with old whiskey barrels, rotten wood splintering off in jagged pieces and open drinks sitting atop them. The main bar is tucked away towards the back right of the interior, the main floor littered with half drunken sluts making some effort to dance in their daisy dukes and cropped lace tops. Most of them seem to be young, some just out of school and others a little older, and the men lurch out like vipers to sink their teeth into prey. They flounder about with their thumbs up their asses, twaddling to their chosen one with a deviant grin and pint of beer. Others watch from afar, taking it all in and eyeing the high rise of their shorts as they dance, either too ashamed to step foot beyond or attempting to hide the sinful nature that adorned their pants. The dazzling lights of the disco ball flash about the dim room, half the stickers missing from the damned thing. The place was just as ran through as the whores that inhabited it, and she had half a mind to march on out right then and there.

It made her face flush red and the tips of her ears burn, an unsightly appearance to her otherwise pristine features. How could he act so valiant, so stouthearted and worthy, then turn and frequent places like this. It made her sick, made her stomach go in knots and flutter so badly she felt queasy. How could a man so perfect stoop so low, and why did she care so much. It was all most as though her feelings were wounded, and she became offended by the situation entirely. But then again, it hadn’t meant anything. Anyone he’d pick up from this godforsaken place would be dead before the sun came up and the rooster did his morning wake. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling, the residual effects of his trashy taste in women and the eyesore this heinous place was. She was a superior woman than any of these girls were, she knew it too, and still it bothered her.

She sits tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the patrons, sat at the main bar towards that back corner, sipping a glass of Texan whiskey that burns soothingly down her throat. There’s a perfect view from there, one that allots her the ability to make out every single conversation, every casual hookup, every drunken confession, making the place even more difficult to stomach.

Then he walks in, looking like Lucifer when he fell down from heaven and into hell. Striding so faultlessly, as he quickly scouts the place and locks eyes with her. Staring with that starstruck glimmer for a moments time, before he swoops in on the red head drinking by her lonesome near the dance floor. She’s heavily drunk, spitting out non sense about her boyfriend just having broken up with her and losing her girlfriends to some halfwits in the washroom. And Johnny, he’s so smooth, suave and gentlemanly, calm and charismatic and even humorous. Charming surely, and all the while his eyes flick up at her — as if to ensure she’d been watching. His words are sweet and sticky like honey, yet filled with the falsified promises of love and devotion. How easily this girl fell, it made one begin to wonder.

Part of her felt the begrudging bond they shared was unique, special, and another felt obliged to stay true to her initial impression. A devil in disguise, perhaps she’d been just as foolish as these whores and she’d allowed her guard to lower too easily. But then again; the wretched and disgusting things they’d speak about were anything but commonplace. Still, she couldn’t help but feel some feeling of shame and betrayal, the way he so easily picked up women for sport. The feeling was ugly, dark and sinister. Powerful enough to move oceans and tear apart relationships, intense enough to change a person entirely; make them heinous and bitchy. Envy was such a petty thing.

And yet, as he locks eyes with her from that fair distance between them and bites that rough lower lip into a deviant smirk, and gestures his head to bend towards the exit, she obliges his wishes and slams her hands against the damp wood top of the bar, kicking her seat back and stomping out in some fervent fashion. Belligerent enough for his own displeased look to go unnoticed by her fiery persona.

The night would carry on with the pertinacious affair, Johnny domineering their small talk whilst he wowed her with his venomous southern tongue. She sounded like she was from someplace out west, in the valley, maybe. And she’d been all too drunk to comprehend even the faintest hint of what was to come her way. Not even her sweet tone could make up for the brooding makeup she wore or her blatant ditzy character. She was an all out bimbo, frivolous and jocose, the type that made men want to shoot themselves before the night was through, but she was just cute enough to sleep with.

For much of that ride Rebecca sat in back with disgust laced in her features, nestled fully under a blanket with her arms crossed snugly and lip bit. It wasn’t until they neared closer to home that Johnny showed any intent on harming the girl, and she could hear the situation turn violent when he’d bashed her head into something — presumably the dash — before he clicked his tongue and chuckled.

“You see how easy it comes, when they just hand themselves to you like that? Get ‘em to trust ya’, they let their guard down and the next thing you know you got yer self the perfect time to strike. Gives you time to tie ‘em up and get settled.”

Not a word enunciates from those pretty lips, instead taking refuge in the privacy her cover granted her. Resentful and contemptuous she garners the feeling she can handle this on her own, but her gut tells her otherwise, and so the emotion boils over and bludgeons out of her like a bull bucking out it’s cage.

“So you’se the type, huh? Like trashy girls like that, dogs, bitches?” The moonlight shines in through the windshield, enough to illuminate his silhouette through the blanket over her head. Then he removes it from her, turned partially towards the backseat with a less than gracious look.

“Keep runnin’ that mouth of yours, show me yer more trouble than you are worth my time then.” She shifts uncomfortably, sitting up from the floorboards and glaring at him like the devil.

“You tell me why you like these unbearable lil’ sluts, you thinkin’ I’m like them ain’t ya’, a harlot?”

“Jealous, then.”

“Try me.”

“You got some nerve pippin’ up like that darlin’, tch. Thought you’d understand by now givin’ yer up class nature. Why don’t you tell me what you noticed ‘bout this girl, ‘bout all the other girls at that damned bar back there, huh? Might learn a thing or two.”

“The lot of ‘em are no good lil’ hookers who ain’t know so much as a god damn cent of respect, playin’ and caterin’ to these men like idiots. And you, you eat ‘em up ain’t ya’? Love every bit of it.”

“The chase, sure.” Johnny only huffs. “Huntin’ ‘em is fun, it’s good when they get away, gets me all excited. That’s what you aught to learn, as for their acts, they’s real easy to manipulate. Men too, you gotta find the right ones. See what I’m teachin’ you? Balance, find the in between.”

She doesn’t say a word, but her expression softens a tad.

“If you think you’s like that you less smart than I thought, you’d be dead by now if I thought otherwise. And you still playin’ hard to get.”

He says what she already knows, the same things she’s repeated flagrantly in the back of her brain and yet it quells the hotness within her and quiets her thoughts of insecurities, the ones he’d brought up in the first place.

“What’s next?” Johnny only chuckles, shaking his head. He takes her change of tone as an token of her acknowledgement and gesticulates toward the redhead unconscious in the passenger’s seat. Her forehead is bruised something ugly, purple and brown as a trail of blood dribbles from the blow to her head.

“Tie ‘er up. We’ll be home real soon, baby.”

Something foreign, something strange, something rotting in her brain. Noise of cries and scent of blood, bed creaks fast to hammer studs. The girl screams in peril, and yet he remains stern; a dominant man swindled with bedsheets soiled. Her hands are bound by his own, his bare back arched over her, while he defiles her greedily and ruts into her. Then there’s something quiet watching from afar, a quick little stir as the moan seeps out in lawl.

Something about the way he fucks her so selfishly beckons her.

Watching through the creaked door of his shack, in the backyard of his mother’s house.

And just once, she had felt piqued by such an enticing act.

Now was much different.

Something wicked in her. Something demented.

Especially in the way he glides that knife of his against her chest again; watching the thick, pretty blood spill out as her wails of pain mix with his own grunts of pleasure. How might she feign innocence, with her fingers drooping down towards her sopping wet cunt. She can’t help it, she can’t. She’d never felt so aroused before. His bare skin ornamented in blood and a petty slut’s screams of helplessness billowing beneath him. He holds her down unphased, makes it look easy. She couldn’t do a thing to stop him.

And then, he turns to face her.

His eyes fiery like hell, and his grin something unnatural.

It’s a mere glimpse and she’s petrified. Had he seen her?

In floods the guilt, the disgust. A freight train steadfast to a feather, clouding her mind with shame and contempt.

With those fingers prodding at herself in eager anticipation of release.

She isn’t sure whether or not she should feel guilty, Rebecca. But the way in which he cocks his head back in delight enraptures her, tickles her insides, urges her to press on. Then it’s almost as though she regains consciousness, retracting the fingers from her undergarments, and now fueled by envy and guilt.

The cries of their victim grow more desperate, and Johnny licks the blood from his lips before chuckling slightly. His breath is caught in his throat and he buckles. Grunting and panting and eager for release.

She’d not yet understand just how wild it drove him, only that she was guilty for indulging in such sin. So much so it poisoned her mood, she’d been driven mad by the discourse she’d made. How could she be so senseless, so vile? Why, she was no better than them, girls. She loathes it, so much so she feels the need to repent, to make herself suffer and cleanse herself of such impurities. It nearly pushes her over, to where she’d collapse and thwart herself into an insufferable series of denial and self deprecation. How ugly of her.

It’s the anger that keeps her from it.

Only when the knife sinks into skin and the blood spatters him crimson does he find release, and she watches as he cuts into the girl eagerly. With each slash a spray of blood coating the stained walls, as he finishes into her with more punctuated moans. Then, a gurgle of fluid, asphyxiated by her own blood as it bubbles up in her throat. The steel blade stiff in the grain of her neck and the thick pools drawing out of her gushes. Her screams have since become quiet, and instead, Johnny’s gasps for air fill the void as he catches his breath.

A sensation she can only pivot as infectious and dangerous, one he pushes upon her with those lustrous acts of violence and carnage. There’s a lovesick notion to her baby blues, furious with watching him pull out of the corpse on his dirty couch and stand up straight. His bare body coated in sweat and blood, and his eyes looking to her as if to call her over. She’s helpless, a pawn in his little game who’ll fold to his bend and call. How is it, she thinks, how is it that he is so breathtakingly beautiful. And still he elicits the worst in her, as she stands there shaking with terror and rage. The type that always consumes her. How could he do such a thing? A cheater, a playboy, a boy just as much as Matthias. Tears trickle at the edges of her eyes, teetering over the lip. Her body trembles the same way it always did when she was angry or reckless, barely clinging to any form of sanity.

Rebecca struggles to form any sort of word, only grossed out by herself and him. If the furrowing of her brows and coarse stare is any sign of upset he doesn’t take it as such, only smirks that same way he always did.

“You no good piece of shit.” She barges through the door, blinded by her temper. “You’s didn’t tell me you fucked ‘em, you’s horrible, just as bad as any other no good pig.” She grapples him, pushing him backwards. Then points to him like one would scold a child. “I was a fool for ever trustin’ you, I hate you Johnny boy I hate you!” Her voice perpetually raises to a shrill cry, shaky as she chokes back her own vomit. The dreaded feeling regurgitating in the back of her throat. “I can’t even bring myself to look at you.”

“Oh darlin’ come on now,” Johnny can’t help but laugh, adding insult to injury. For her choler festers more violently. The feelings she thought were once dead arise again with a newfound glory; she wants his head on a stick. “Don’t tell me you’re still jealous?” He steps to her, stroking her cheek with his bloodied hand before she smacks it away.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Don’t sell ya’ self short now. That’s all they good for.”

“Don’t give me that crap, I’m fed up. You tell me one thing and make me think you’s some prim proper gentleman and you nothin’ but a cheap lil’ scoundrel. Just as no good as the others, I hate it!” She pushes him again.

“You women, always over reactin’.” Johnny sighs. “Sound like my mother now, why you still playin’ hard to get?” Again he approaches her, an attempt to bring her in for a kiss.

“I said don’t touch me!” She screams, slapping him across the face to which earns her a groan. Irascibility fuels the both of them, a bludgeon to each of their indignation. How she snaps, looking hellbent and ghastly and he the epitome of the devil.

“You aughtta listen to me ‘fore I take matters into my own hands.” He corners her, arms forming a cage when he backs her into the wall. An action that quells her outrage, so that the feelings of repugnance and abhorrence may return. She chokes back a sob, and the wretched acid that floods her mouth which she forced back down in disgust. “The fuck is your quarrel bitch, you call me some stupid shit again and you got another thing comin’.” A whisper.

It happens again, and again. The putrid abomination of a word vomit that cultivates itself into reality. She’s made herself sick with repentance, guilt. He does not a single thing to help, while she’s choking back vomit with a hand over her mouth. He watches cruelly, awaiting a response while her body wracks back and fourth with each gag. Only for her to pitifully swallow it back again. Then it stops. Her eyes muddied with old makeup as tears spew down her face.

“You . . .” She says quietly, and it’s then she thinks he enjoys seeing her like this, a pathetic abomination with nothing to show for it. As she writhes in pain and prods at the roots of her hair, her eyes wide and deranged and her head shaking vehemently. “I . . . You.” She swallows so loud it puts the buzzing of that overhead light to shame. “You told me they was sluts, pawns, that I was different. Yet you go and you have sex with ‘em and toss me aside like I’m your trash.”

“You still don’t get it.” He sighs, observes her shaking limbs and less than gracious state, and shakes his head. “That’s all they’s good for, you know that?”

“What the fuck do you want me to believe?”

“Whose still alive, and whose dead?” Johnny’s voice raises to a stern shout. “Theys sluts, whores, floozies, whatever you wanna call ‘em the whole lot of ‘em, and that’s all theys ever gonna be good for. Get it now, darlin’?” The last part is a stab, a passive aggressive attack on her personal reflection. “Drill that into your fuckin’ skull and get on with it. Quit pissin’ me off.” He leans in, and while a part of it clicks for her the stubbornness of her nature over takes the acceptance, and she punctuates her exit with a swift knee to his crotch. One that sends him stumbling back and groaning, looking to her in poignant disbelief.

“I ain’t a slut, don’t touch me.”

He’s still holding himself when she struts out, groaning out in pain and whining like a bitch.

“Try that again and see what happens, you lucky I like you’s!” No response. “You have yer’ ass back here the same time tomorrow, you hear me?” When there’s no reply he finds himself even more irate, throwing about the shack the old glass beer bottles and kicking into the cabinets with hacked off grunts.

Days go by, then weeks, and every night is some derivative of the same routine. They go out late and pick up some senseless little slut, Johnny woos her enough to take her home and the much of the same ensues. Sometimes he’d let Becca stay in the room with him while he fucked them, or let her cut into the bodies and take a portion of the kill, it became more frequent as time passed; he liked watching her do it all most as much as he enjoyed it. And Rebecca is so natural, so seamless in her execution, quick to pick up on the smaller things, and eventually she’s able to rope in some stupid men, too, begrudgingly to Johnny. Who’d never let her tease them too far before stepping in. Despite the bitterness though, he’s proud, excited even, and those weeks prove to be useful to her. Why, even their discourse had all but subsided, and she’d come around to him the way he’s liked her to all along.

She’d learned all but one thing, the thing Johnny always took care of.

She never knew what came of the corpses once they were done with, where Johnny hid or disposed of them. Whether or not he’d thrown them into the lake or buried them someplace out of the way. But she knew he did it damn well, for if it weren’t the blood that painted the rotting wood of his shack there wasn’t a trace of anything at all. Just an unassuming shed in the middle of bumfuck Texas.

Yet within that time was her perpetual inner conflict, one which picked at her each and every time she slipped those fingers into her drawers as she watched him senselessly fuck whore after whore. She learned to understand what Johnny did and why, so much so it was invigorating to her sexual gratification. The one which she all but embraced, but denied with great obstinance. Of everything it was the single most gruesome thing she could not accept; why she enjoyed seeing it so much. The self hatred that fleeted her head each and every time she enjoyed it would pick at her like fleas to rats. She still wasn’t sure if he’d ever realized, but as the weeks went by the antipathy only grew.

She’d painted herself a depiction of some shameless harlot, and couldn’t bare to stand the idea she’d become just as wretched as the girls he adulted with. Some nights she’d cry and scream and tear her hair out, work herself up so much she’d become sick and vomit face first into the toilet. Other times she became numb and would stare blankly into oblivion, nullifying her pathetic existence under the guise of being a no good woman undeserving of his praise. For the first time ever Rebecca found herself entirely horrified by the shell she made herself to be, insecure, and without an ounce of dignity. The repulsion she exudes only made things worse, as she tried uselessly to control herself and the urges, which overtook time and time again, only to send her fumbling back down the rabbit hole which she tried so desperately to climb out of.

There came a time, later, in which a fork in the road permeated itself before her. Progress, call it an epiphany. For that had been the sudden realization of her existence. She felt for the first time in some time some sensibility, a ground to stand on. Her self righteousness and worth still in tact. Yet still, it loomed over her like a storm cloud the Great Plains of Oklahoma. A familiar feeling would make itself known through this, the return of her lost sanctities, no control. Johnny had always stolen that from her, this was no exception. She craved it so much, to withstand herself, her thoughts, her feelings, she could never let go. It would drive her mad trying to do so, so many countless breakthroughs in her perfect little facade.

But why did she take pleasure in it so damn much.

This was the hunch that kept her moving forward with such grace, for what she knew it to be was a secret and nothing more. She’d hide it, for as far as he knew she was the same prim and proper woman he’d taken in. Her struggles were her own to bare, and the sacrifice of her control was one she would live with for the sake of being with him, a real man. That is, until she would pull his strings like she knew she could. And he knew too.

Sometime later, between the late nights with Johnny and the early mornings with her father feeding the cattle, there had been a change in her. Subtle and sweet, a benign switch in which her attention diverted and she found herself day dreaming in a senseless manner out in the hot sun each day. Smiling sweetly at her Johnny as he comes up on the pavement toward the front of the house. And her daddy, fixing on asking her just what the hell had changed between them.

That day she’d been cleaning the house, with plans set on seeing her Johnny that evening and heading out again to go hunting. Her father, half dazed by the days work and covered in mud and dirt clamors in from the foyer, leant up against the frame as he fiddles with the dirt stuck in his nails.

“You look real nice.” His low voice rumbles, as she places the roast atop the oven mats on the table. “Time’s he comin’ along?”

There’s a gentle hum in her cantor, as she seamlessly sets the table and minds her own.

“Any minute now I’d reckon, Johnny boy’s joinin’ us for supper, don’t you remember daddy?”

“Ah,” he glances up. “Y’all been gettin’ along nicely. Seems you’s both . . . close.”

“Yes well, he’s good to me.”

“Wasn’t always that way it seemed. In fact, there was a time you swore it was quite the opposite. Gotta imagine my concern when that’s changed all of the sudden.”

“Ain’t you like Johnny? I thought you’d be happy. ‘Sides, it ain’t, somethin’.”

“Rebecca.” He warns. “He’s a fine young man, and I think he’d do you alotta good, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I ain’t notice a change in you. You seem, well, different. Distracted, I reckon.”

“Why’s that daddy,” she only chuckles.

“Well girl, I’m gon’ tell you summin’ you might not like, but you listen and you listen well here to me. Seems you’ve caught on too quick. You go ‘bout the days without so much as payin’ any mind to this old man of ya’s, and seems that boy of your’s is askin’ to take you out every night. I know you like ‘em, but no matter how grown you’s is you still my lil’ girl. And now, I see that gleam in those eyes like you know summin’ I don’t, and I know damn well you real fond of that young man. But don’t forget where you’s come from, don’t be wait in’ to see ‘em all day, live in the moment.”

Becca’s back turned, a gentle grasp shys from the dish she’s holding.

“Love’s a funny thing ain’t it. Ain’t you tell me I knows when I got the one? Been tellin’ me that an awful long time there, since I was a girl I reckon. Now just ‘cause I ain’t waitin’ on you no more don’t mean I don’t care ‘bout ya’, just means it’s gettin’ time for me to flee the nest. Wouldn’t you say, daddy?”

“Rebecca Payne, you aught to understand i ain’t say things without no reason.” Her words frighten him, and that feeling of familiarity regarding her unstable tendencies pigeons in his gut. “I believe you, I just say be careful. Don’t go ‘n end up like your momma and I-”

“Whatchu just say ‘bout momma?” She’s gripped the glass rim of each side of the dish, planted square on the dining table which he sits. As her eyes make death threats to him and she scowls in bitterness. Hate clouds her vision, a fuzzy memory of what’s buried in the past. Feelings of discourse and guilt, animosity, all chalked up to the horrors in her head. She’d shake fervently, losing control of her body as she trembles violently. That moment she could only see red, crimson. The thick liquid that which made up all things. Pictures of her bloodied limbs sprawl out over her vision, a mad woman, painted in the blood of her friends and foes, as she take the knife to daddy’s skin. And as she makes her face scarlet in sanguine detail, the room falls.

There’s a knock at the door.

“There you are dear, daddy’s at the table. Have a seat ‘n I’ll fix you a plate.” Her sing-songy chime keeps at bay the turmoil within, as she invites Johnny in with a sweet smile.

His cold gaze lurks behind a smile, as it softens when it meets the beauty of her stature. He watches her there, her painted up face and pretty eyes. Lips shining red, a color which he most found flattering to her. Her hair was neatly curled and styled to suit the form fitting dress she’d opted for the evening, a pretty pink number which he’d half a mind to tear off — if it weren’t for her proclaimed aversion to such a sin. His arm takes her waist and the other her hand, to press the soft palm to his chapped lips in a hungry kiss. Eyes unmoving from hers, even as he bites into her skin there.

“Lovely as always.” Heavy boots step into the kitchen and her pearlescent heels follow with quick clicks. Johnny takes the seat beside her father, shaking hands to adhere to formality and greeting him with a most kind look. “Good to see you sir, gotten round to any game lately?”

“Well now as a matter of fact I’ve got some wild hog dryin’ out out back, caught ‘em just yesterday. One shot straight through the damned thing’s head.”

“Always preferred tradition myself, grandpa got me this ol’ huntin’ knife way back when. Use it for most of my kills, they die better that way. You ain’t want none of that gunpowder in ya’ meat.”

Their conversation was much of the same, about hunting wild animals and the work out in the fields. Before too long Rebecca had placed a plate full of pot roast, mashed potatoes, sugared carrots, and a piece of cornbread in front of Johnny with a smile. Then, with a kind hand pressed over his shoulder reached to place the glass of sweet tea in front of him too. She makes a point to kiss his cheek, patting the spot on his shoulder before stepping away to make her father a plate.

“Here ya’ are, eat while it’s hot.”

Disbelief perhaps, or sheer astonishment, written in the wrinkled features of her father’s impression makes itself clear as day to both Johnny and Rebecca, as she carries on without care, and Johnny chooses to await Raymond before indulging.

She had never served another before him, not even once. And there they stood, indifferent. As if the entire world had changed through the one subliminal action.

Supper was long and drawn out, like a days work in summer heat. Yet as they concluded their festivities and Raymond gave a begrudging goodbye to his winsome daughter, she and Johnny had made it out to Cedar Canyon at some back house bar with somber music and people to match. It was a quiet evening in a small cramped building that smelt of wet earth. They’d been there before; one of the rotations Johnny took her on when searching for prizes. It was always peaceful there, relaxing even. The hustle and bustle of both Pfluegerville and Uvalde paled in comparison. On these nights, the chase was much more leisurely and pleasurable. No pressure and no eyes prying, all most as though they’d found their natural element. It reminded her more and more of Oklahoma.

There in that dirt parking lot did Johnny grasp her hand, only to pull her into him with a grin that lacked the playful and malignant criteria his signature had. His eyes still stern as he watched her, palms now planted on either side of her head.

“Hey.”

“I know my way baby, don’t you worry. Gettin’ the hang of this now.”

“I have summin’, would ya’ turn ya’ self around so I could put it on ya’?” The statement seemed to have stunned her, as her delicate fingers float and her arms feather down to her sides. Her face, so prettily in awe beckons him, like a siren to man. So she twirls quaintly to face away from him, fingers grasping onto one another in anticipation.

She’s unsure what to make of his sudden change in tone, the affectionate gesture which had her heart throbbing in her chest. It was different than his regular demeanor, but she enjoyed just as much his sweeter side. And how it made her mind soar, like nothing she’d ever felt before.

“Now don’t go gettin’ a big head, s’just summin’ I found off one of them bodies, thought it’d look real nice on ya’.” He pulls out the fine silver chain from his tattered jean pocket, rubbing the damn thing until it fell straight and the slightly tarnished silver locker dangled from it. “Here, hold that hair.” As a careful grasp clasps her hair up his rough touch grazes the tender skin of her neck, looping the chain around it and hooking the eye in the back.

The cold touch of metal falls onto her skin, all most burning, and as she frees her hair from the confines of her palms Johnny cannot help but to stare. Perhaps he’d never realized what a pretty neck she had, and a part of him wondered what it might feel like to strangle it. Feel skin gripping flesh and the air vacate her lungs as he watches the life drain from her cerulean eyes. Instead however, he spins her around to relish in the fruits of his labor; the prized necklace sealed round that neck, a means of claiming it as his own. And she, so enthralled, takes the heart shaped locket between her fingertips with an unbeknownst smile, examining it thorough before she looks up to him.

Of course she’s different, his trophy wife in some ways, well not yet, but certainly what she’d become. It didn’t stop those thoughts though, the ones that plagued his brain each time he looked to someone. Even his mother, whom he loved, was no exception to his beastly thoughts.

“It’s beautiful Johnny, which ones it off?” The yellow spot on the lockets middle crumbs beneath her fingertips, sprawling outwards toward the edge of the thing where she could pop it open. She hesitates though, as there’s a somber change to his appearance, one she’d never seen before. She wasn’t sure of it, but it looked she’d prodded at some wound of his.

It takes him some time before he chirps up, a calm and casual tone.

“It ain’t from ours.” He says plainly. “This one’s different, been savin’ it.”

There’s a pretty engraving around it’s outer edges, a thin brocade design blackened with decades old dirt and grime. The bail is also browned, coated in the tarnish it had endured for so long. Then there was the bits of dried blood too, something you would only see so close. The thing looked as though it sat in a drawer for years, a little elbow grease would have it looking pristine and new.

“But you said-”

“Dammit woman I know what I said,” Johnny huffs. “It’s an old one I’d been saving, thought it’ll look real nice on you’s.”

“Well,” she indulges, stepping back and lifting her head upwards to show off that neck of hers. “How do I look then?”

“Beautiful.” That feeling came back to him like hell in a hand basket, the same one where he could hardly handle the instincts cemented within him. A part of him longed to shower her in such frivolous matters, taking to her the finest jewelry and clothes money could buy, letting her exude the lifestyle she looked the part of. He thought about it, how to treat her right. But he couldn’t understand, and maybe he never would. For as much as he wanted something like that he’d never be able to wrap his head around it, how to express such an odd feeling; one he lacked control over. Another reason he resented it so much, and still, he sat with the uncomfortability.

The other part of him wondered if what she’d look like in the cold room. Some sick and twisted side, yet he found she’d be no use for him there. Without her he’d end up lonely all over again. And something about her likeness made him feel something, other than sanguine hunger and bloodlust.

She was the only woman he’d always told the truth, from the very start.

“Oh Rebecca Payne, you sure do drive me wild.” He softens, a tense shell now keen on her beauty. The feeling subsides, not before he’s got a hand on her waist pulling her close, and the other caressing the skin of her neck. Skin gripping flesh, her hands take solace at his chest, then his neck, then the nape where his hair meets his head.

Chapped lips against cherry lip balm, soft and sugary like the pie she’d baked all that time ago. The metallic taste of blood is just faint when she bites his lip, for her turbulent nature always did rival his own. As the pads of his fingers grip into her neck his hold travels upward, pulling at her cheek and into her silky tresses. He can feel the way her hands tug at his scalp, and the way she so desperately kisses him, biting away as though it had been a millennium since they’d last met like this. Something in the way she lets his hands grip her body or his tongue slide into her mouth, or even the way she breathes out so tantalizingly against his own that has his world spinning.

“I’ll say, lookit what we gots here.”

“Well I’ll be, wearin’ a dress like that bound to get you’s into trouble. Say, how much for that there girl you’s got? She a real prize.”

First he stirs, then she follows. His head and gaze low at her, and Becca can see the anger beckon him. A fury and rage akin to no other, like the devil himself had come to reap. The darkness washes over him like it always did, tearing at the seams where his demons fought tooth and nail to climb out. And there he was, opening the gates. A scowl accompanied with that swollen lip of his rises, when he lifts his head from her height to overhead to watch two drunkards heckle like fools.

She quips her head around real quick, all most as angry as Johnny if it weren’t for his need for such inhumane territory.

The two are drunkards, half falling over the other as they hiccup on their own words. They reek of beer and sweat, still wearing the overalls from the days work that had been covered in dirt and whatever else. Their dress did little to hide the gut on each of them, grossly sticking out and firm and just plain ugly. The one on the left stood back a little, still choking on the last of his bottle before he tossed it to the ground. The mullet on his head is half balding. The one on the right does most of the talking it seems, and he’s bigger, like he’s got muscle beneath that pudge of his. He hides his round face behind the brim of his hat, nodding over to each of them and clicking as if she were a bitch.

“Well? Answer me boy, I’ll pay ya’ top coin for a pretty one like that.”

Upset stirs in her, arms falling at her sides and hands fisted. The polished nails dig into her skin and her eyes flash crazy to a Johnny as if to say ‘you gon’ do summin’ ‘bout that?’

Without a word he maneuvers her aside, gaze dead on the man attempting to negotiate. His rage is silent and seething, as he strides over to the primary subject of his vexation and sends a fist to the man’s nose. There’s a heinous crack! as the man cries and clasps at his nose, not before Johnny sends a knee into his pelvis. Again he whines out, broken by the vomit that disgustingly ruts out his mouth and to the floor. He topples over and Johnny wastes no time kicking into him, spitting over his face.

“The hell you say to me?”

It all had happened so quickly, and in an instant his friend approaches Johnny in an attempt of defense, striking dead on his jaw. It’s with a groan Johnny sends fists back, and Rebecca wastes no time in digging through the truck bed and fetching the old rusted wrench from it.

In that time the man on the ground had gotten up and, while Johnny preoccupied himself in fighting the other this one had decided to get the one up on Johnny.

She could laugh at their stupidity, how they left her all alone leaving her such a clear opportunity to enact revenge. Or she could take offense, for that meant they saw her to be a non issue. In typical fashion she takes the ladder, which only worsens her anger. She wondered if Johnny’d kill her for striking them with the axe then and there, or if he’d have her head for trying to slaughter them out in the open. Well, she hadn’t observed anyone there. Inside the bar was primarily vacant.

As fury agonizes within and her thoughts stir the idea becomes increasingly palpable. That with the pig behavior of these idiots and their lack of proper judgement about women, she was sure she aight to teach them a lesson once Johnny got through them first. There’s a yearning for hate and destruction in her, the kind where she let loose and enact a crime so vicious and malignant they’d never warrant such atrocities again. It’s a blood boiling affair that has her head dizzy with contempt and bloodlust, prodding at her consciousness as she sway towards the fantasy. Killing them had to be the answer, the utmost form of vengeance and satisfaction. Yet unlike before, she practices restraint as she watches Johnny beat the life out of the one, coloring himself red with blood splatter. The world seems to stop then, and a feeling she came to know as instinct flutters in the pit of her stomach. How undoubtedly breathtaking he was. A stalwart apparition of what she desired most; it all most distracts her from what’s at stake.

It’s in one quick movement and a brute grunt that she swings the wrench upside the back of the man’s head, striking a flesh wound into his skull that caved inwards. Bits and pieces of matter dangle from the wrench, as blood flies to coat her pink wardrobe.

Well, shit.

She hadn’t meant to injure him so badly, more than she did just to knock him out. If his unconscious body is any indication of such she’s quite pleased with her work, huffing and puffing over his body while she throws the wrench down. The scowl written in her features grows darker, and the fire in her eyes ignites.

“God damn you half wits, ruinin’ date night!” She calls out, stepping over the body to waltz over to Johnny and the man he so graciously was kicking the shit out of. A pause in her cantor and she feels overwhelmed by the joy it exudes, such a chivalrous and passionate display of emotion and adoration. It makes her feel hot, the guise in such a sweet action eliciting a feeling she cannot control within the physiological workings of her mind. It was the notion that it had been over her, a protectiveness she feigned over.

“Quick darlin’, grab some rope and let’s get ‘em in the truck, ‘fore we find ourselves in a whole heap of trouble.”

“They didn’t think I’d do no harm,” reluctantly she obliges, fetching the spares they’d keep in the truck bed. “Thought I wasn’t no threat.” She tosses some to him, then makes quick work with the other restraining his limbs and stuffing his mouth with the ends of the ropes. “Johnny boy you hear me?”

He doesn’t say anything in response, perhaps a signal of his own anger and self discipline. He only moves to hurl them over his shoulder one by one, tossing each of them in the back then covering it up in the tattered bits of burlap before opening the passenger door.

“Get in the truck.”

—

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭! - 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

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

—

The brutal attack last night on two cotton farmers has Cedar Canyon residents left concerned with the safety of their community. Reports say the attack on brothers Aaron and Bryan Wickett happened just outside a local bar, where an unidentified man and woman were seen quote, “beating the daylights out of them.” Witnesses say the suspects wore nice clothes and looked quote “nothing out of the ordinary.” The man’s description is congruent with the violent attack on three college students in Pfluegerville just less than a year ago, however authorities say the two crimes are not connected. The unidentified woman is believed to be in her early twenties, has blonde hair and blue eyes, and exudes unusually brute strength. As of now, the whereabouts of all parties involved are unknown, and authorities are urging anyone with information to please come forward. More on this story as it develops.

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urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites · 2 months ago

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Sawyer/Slaughter Family Nicknames for their S/O! (Nancy + Drayton are platonic)

I’m back for October, people!

@morguemistress you requested this a while ago 🖤🖤🖤

Johnny “Hunter” Slaughter calls you possessive nicknames, things he knows have an underlying tone of owning, that play off that sweet power dynamic you both have going on. He likes thinking of you like his little prize- his dearest possession. He always brings in a little southern drawl when he calls you these things- always brings in a tone that’s just slightly softer, almost… caring. But he can’t truly care, can he? “Bunny”, “Sweetheart”, and “Darlin” are his favorites…

Nubbins “The Hitchhiker” Sawyer has a habit of worshipping you from the ground up- he prefers calling you names that reflect that. He also likes calling you names that are sillier- he names you after things he observes that remind him of you- you’ve ended up with some batshit crazy nicknames with even longer stories. But above all, you’re special to him, and he wants names that reflect that. “Lolipop”, “Cheeky”, “My Favorite”, and “Beautiful/Handsome”, are his personal favorites.

Sissy “Sunshine” Slaughter is a sweet partner- as long as don’t mind the aftertaste of her poison. She loves naming you after her environment- that’s what made her, well, her; after all. You remind her of all that is glory in life- her freedom, the fall leaves crunching beneath her naked feet, bear to the natural world. You ground her, heighten her five senses- she wants to reflect that in her pet names. Her favorite names to call you are: “Sugar”, “Sunshine”, and “Pumpkin Pie”.

Nancy “Black” Slaughter thinks you’re like her second child- she names you as such. She wants so call you things that bring you comfort- in an antique way, like the dusty smell of an old house, overrun with kittens. Maybe you don’t like that comparison- she doesn’t care. You’ll always like whatever she calls you in her eyes. She refers to you as: “Sweet Pea”, “Honey Bun”, “My Dear”, and “Darling Y/N”.

Drayton “The Cook�� Sawyer doesn’t hate you- which says something. In fact, he likes you. As his favorite person, you get special treatment. He likes calling you names that aren’t anything too fancy or special, but makes it clear whom he is always the first to serve food to at the table. Basically, anything that straight up tells everyone that you’re his #1. He is a fan of calling you: “The Good Kid”, “My Best Assistant”, or “The-One-damn-sane-one-in-this-family”.

Bubba “Leatherface” Sawyer can’t verbalize his pure love for you, and out of all the family, he has the purest kind of love- like how a male dog looks up at you, with those precious, pleasing eyes. That’s how he looks at you. And while he can’t tell you his names, you already know what your dearest thinks of you as: His Wife/Husband/Partner, His Emotional Support Human, His Everything. He doesn’t need words to tell you how much you mean to him, you can tell it by his gaze.

Chop Top “Hippie” Sawyer likes teasing you- messing with you, that’s almost your whole relationship. His names for you aren’t the most romantic and elegant, or the most serious, but have his playful personality embedded into them, creating terms of affection that send the message across just fine- This is my person, with the goddamn fine ass. Chop Tops nicknames for his s/o consist of: “Sexy”, “Hot Stuff”, “Pickle Tickler”, or “My peice of ass”.

Hands “The Heavy” Slaughter is another non verbal- he cannot express his feelings for you in words, but that sure as hell doesn’t mean it isn’t obvious. Like with Johnny- you’re his. And he does a damn fine job of making sure people know it. The family knows exactly what you are to him: His Woman/Man, His Pet, His Person. You are his. You might not be able to tell from the way he looks at you, but you sure can tell from the way he grabs your waist.

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gofuschia · 1 year ago

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Photogenic

Johnny/Reader/Nubbins

(fem reader, 18+ content)

Say hello to your new home. A six by nine makeshift cell in the pit of this backroad Texan household, nothing for company ‘cept a shit-bucket and a dirty old mattress you've a suspicion must’ve been pissed on once upon a time. Tug at those ropes all you want - they ain’t going nowhere, and neither are you.

Bet it’s sinking in, right about now, huh? Might as well get nice n’ comfy. You’re fixing to be here a while.

#my writing #tcm #tcm game #tcm 1974 #nubbins sawyer #johnny sawyer #johnny slaughter #nubbins x reader #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny sawyer x reader #nubbins sawyer x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #johnny tcm #tcm nubbins

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cemetery-sunset · 3 months ago

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Caught in the Cattle Chute - Nubbins Sawyer x GN!Reader

Summary: When Reader is just trying to do some chores and clean up the slaughterhouse, they get an interesting surprise from their lover.

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings / Tags: they/them pronouns, gender neutral! reader, established relationship, rough sex, surprise creampie?, blood/dirt/grossness, groping, fingering, grinding/humping, unprotected sex, slight dubcon? kinda

A/N: this is porn with no plot, enjoy!…. maybe a part two will happen?

The slaughterhouse was an interesting place, to say the least. It was dingy and gross, covered in grime and blood… and yet, somehow, it was serene and almost peaceful. It wasn’t regularly used or habited by anybody, family members or not. There were always ambient noises, dust settling, pipes squeaking and the wind flowing through the trees outside.

Leaning over the table towards the back of the slaughterhouse, the newest member of the family hummed to themselves, gently picking up a severed hand out of a pile of dried blood. The hand was stiff and pale, they threw it into a nearby bucket that was slowly filling up with various body parts. They hummed to themselves as they used an old rag to wipe down the bloody, dirty table. It was not a necessary chore to clean up the slaughterhouse… or any of the Sawyers’ house really. The only member of the family that truly cared about cleaning up the houses was Nancy, and she never came to the slaughterhouse anyway. Cleaning it up was just a nice, time-wasting thing to do while the rest of the family were too busy doing their own chores.

There was a noise from somewhere else in the building. A thud like something fell over. Another hand was thrown into the bucket, and then a few different bones. The person paid no mind to the noise, this area always had noises coming from another room, this was normal. The thud came again.

They kept wiping down the table, collecting body parts and trying to clean as best as they could with a dirty rag and lots of elbow grease. Before they could comprehend what was happening, they were grabbed suddenly. Two thin, yet strong, arms wrapped around their midsection, immediately going to their chest. They scream in surprise, not expecting the attack, dropping their rag onto the even dirtier ground.

“H-hey preeetty!” Nubbins’ excited voice rang out in their ear as he leaned his head down to their neck, sniffing at it deeply.

“I-I-I was lookin’ for you!” He chirped out, moving his body to be flush against his lover’s back.

“Nubs?! What’re you doin’?!” His lover tried to move away and turn around to face the man, but his grip was iron. He ignored their questioning as he moved further into their space, pushing them off balance, forcing them to hold onto the table in front of the pair. Nubbins’ large hands kept groping and feeling their body, moving over their chest and pushing at their lower stomach in an attempt to push them ever closer to this rigid body.

“Hang- hang on! Can we just-“ They got cut off when they tried to pry off Nubbins’ hands from their chest. That’s when they felt it, grinding hard against their ass, a hard bulge in Nubbins’ pants.

Nubbins started to moan into his lover’s neck.

“You- you just- you feel so g-good!” He moved his hands over their body, squeezing their soft flesh harder than necessary. His lover’s body was growing hotter by the second, their mind going foggy.

“I-I-I just neeed this!” He cooed and shushed his lover, using more force to rub his hard on against their clothed ass.

“Hey! Nubbins!” They tried to stand up straight and pull their body away from his, but it was no use. Nubbins used that opportunity to push them harder. Their hand slipped from the table as they fumbled onto the floor.

In the fall, both parties failed to notice how close they were to a giant bucket of blood, dripping from a nondescript bag on a hook. For a second, Nubbins lost his grip on his lover. They fell and knocked over the bucket, spilling the bloody contents all over themselves. The clean new clothes they were wearing were immediately ruined, most of the blood ending up on their torso, arms and face.

“Ah! Come on, Nubs!” They tried to protest while rubbing blood out of their face, but it was no use, their skin was now tinted an aggressive red.

As if the hitchhiker wasn’t already in a state of animalistic need, seeing his beautiful lover covered in blood only worsened his feeling.

“Y-you- look…” One of his large, honey hands went down and palmed his bulge as his partner was beginning to stand up on their own. He was frozen for a minute, unable to move purely because his head was overwhelmed with so many thoughts at once.

“Nubs, I just got this shirt… an’ I’m tryin’ to clean.” They were mermering to themselves as they stood and stumbled a little, trying not to slip on the blood.

Before they could catch themselves, Nubbins did it for them. He rushed to grab them again, this time somehow more feverish. His hands moved around the blood and rubbed it all over their face and chest.

“Oo-ooh-!” His voice was high and excited, his brain losing all coherence so all his words began to slur and become word vomit.

“Hang on- Just let me-“ They tried to protest and move away, but they couldn’t get a grip on his arms with their own being covered in slick blood.

“Pree-tty, preetty, pretty, pre-etty- “ He kept moving forward and forward, invading all their personal space. His partner struggled to not fall over, instead slipping on their own feet and the blood on the ground.

With one strong grab on Nubbins’ forearm and his lover slipping in the opposite direction, they were able to free themselves from his grasp once more.

His lover yelped as they tripped from the hitchhikers grasp, instead falling head first into a cattle chute. The chutes lined this side of the slaughterhouse, they hadn’t been used in a while. Now most of them were rusted, dusty and broken from time. Nobody has touched them in years.

As their head shot through the chute, their shoulders slammed into the metal hard. They yelled at the impact; the force was so aggressive that the cattle chute slammed shut, closing around their neck and trapping their head on the other side of the chute.

“Nubbins! Nubbins! Help me!” They cried, using their bloody arms to push and pull at the chute, the metal not even creaking under their force. The only thing that did was get blood and handprints all over the metal machine.

Nubbins was too busy babbling nonsense to help his lover. As they squirmed and thrashed against their new bindings, he couldn’t help but get that same feeling he had when they got covered in blood. He rushed to his partner, slipping on the bloody floor but regained his balance before falling.

“You- you soooo- an’ this-“ Nubbins laughed as his hands slammed into his lover’s ass cheeks unceremoniously, smacking loud smacking noises in the process. The man squeezed and groped at their ass, moving up to their sides.

“Whoa-ah!” His partner jumped at the sudden contact and aggression.

“Hey, I’ll help you, if you get me out! This- this ain’t funny!” They kept squirming, pulling uselessly on the undisturbed metal around their neck. The man kept laughing, at the sight, the situation, at his own lover.

Nubbins shoved his bulge right up to their ass, his hands nonstop groping his lover’s soft body. He pulled their hips backward, causing their jaw to slam against the metal.

“Hey! Ow! Stop it!” Nubbins didn’t stop. He only kept rambling to himself and pulling on his partner’s hips, pushing his hard on right against them.

“Just get me out of here! Please!” His partner kept trying to plead, their cries fell on deaf ears.

Nubbins kept laughing and groping at his partner, loving being able to feel their heat through their pants. It was addicting for him to rub his bulge all over it. His cock rubbed against his zipper so hard it nearly hurt, not enough to make him uncomfortable, just enough to make him painfully harder. In his hazed mind, Nubbins stayed rubbing against his partner, only taking one hand off of them to messily yank open his belt and zip down his fly. His loose grey pants fell to the ground instantly, the belt being the only thing that held them up.

His cock was longer than it was wide and curved to the side. The dark pubic hair resting all around it was completely natural, running up and up onto his flat stomach. Standing straight out, completely at attention, his head was flushed red and already shiny with precum. His balls hung heavier than normal, full from how long it’s been since he’s had the chance to ravage his lover like this. Nubbins wasn’t experienced enough to know how to take care of himself properly, so most of the time, he went without any release for days, and sometimes weeks.

“Nubbins! What’re you doin’?! Get me outta here first! Someone might come in an’ find us!” They pushed at the cattle chute more, to no avail. They tried to cover up their raising voice with the scolding, but it didn’t work. Their breathing got heavier and even they could feel the effect being in this predicament had on their body. Their legs started to tremble as they held onto the cattle chute, no longer pushing, just using it to try to keep themselves stable.

With his cock free, Nubbins rubbed even harder against his lover. The layers between them getting thinner and thinner, only serving to make his excitement rise.

“Fee-el good- soooo good!” He rambled, focusing on how he could feel their heat more prominently on his cock now, with his pants being discarded. His bones hands grabbed at his partner’s cheeks again. His grip landed on the waistband on their pants, he pulled them backward aggressively, less like he was trying to strip them, and more like he was now using the clothing as more leverage to get even closer.

His partner kept trying to protest, but the lord Nubbins pulled at their pants, the more their brain went foggy. They could feel how hard he was, how long he was, the cold air of the slaughterhouse hit the tops of their cheeks as Nubbins’ pulled their pants halfway down.

“You… soo pretty… I-I really… like-“ Nubbins rambled out as his hands slid into the back of his partners pants, pulling them down only barely. The fabric was stuck on their thighs, it was barely low enough for Nubbins to reach their hole. With only their thin cotton underwear in the way, everything felt heightened.

“The-ese a-are pretty ttoo!” Nubbins pulled at the white cotton, making his lover squirm even more. He pulled them up and down and sideways, playing with the fabric. Nubbins grabbed his cock and moved it in between the fabric and his partner’s skin, starting to rub up against their hole directly. They both let out pathetic moans, his partner’s legs trembled more.

“W-wait-“ His lover tried to get him to slow down, but there was no getting through to him when he was like this. It was like he was an animal reverting back to his natural state, like he couldn’t think about anything other than cumming.

As if his lover’s underwear wasn’t wet already, his pre being spread up and down the back of them only made it worse. They were somewhat translucent from the fluid, Nubbins could see the pink of his own cock through the white. The sight only made him run up against them harder.

Finally having enough teasing, Nubbins ripped the underwear with his bare hands, not even having enough patience to use his knife. The fabric stayed wedged between his lover’s crotch and their pants, but it was now in pieces.

“N-now-“ Nubbins barely said a word before he rammed his cock deep into his partner. They both moaned out, his lover letting out shaky breaths, having to hold onto the metal chute with white knuckles. Nubbins laughed at the familiar feeling, barely giving himself a second, he roughly grabbed their ass and began pulling them back and forth onto his cock, spearing it deep every single time. His balls slammed into their body, making a lewd wet noise coming from beneath the pair.

For a moment, he went as deep as he could and just grinded into their wet hole, his balls rubbing up against their ass. He leaned down and shoved his face into their back, licking at the blood on their shirt. His forehead rested on their back, his face now smeared with blood, his smile painted pink.

The quiet, slow moment only lasted so long before Nubbins couldn’t take it. He was never known for his patience. Without warning, he dug his nails into his lover’s sides, nearly drawing blood. He slammed his cock into their hole over and over, repeating a whimpery little mantra.

“So-o so-so good, s-so soft…” Nubbins’ hands were covered in blood, old from the bucket and new from his partner. His nails were dirty, they got blood caked under them as he raked them over his partner's back, pulling at their shirt.

Quickly, Nubbins’ reached up and grabbed his straight razor from the little furry pouch that hung around his neck. He laughed and squinted his eyes as he cut through his lover’s shirt, slicing it in half and pulling the pieces off of their trembling body hastily. He raised the pieces high, not stopping the movement in his hips as he scrunched up the shirt in his dirty hands and rung it out like a used towel. The dirty old blood rushed out of the fabric, splashing onto their back. Drops flew all over the pair, getting onto Nubbins’ shirt and into his partner's hair. After he was satisfied with the amount of blood covering his partner, he dropped the shirt on the ground and used his hands to rub around the blood, smearing it into their skin.

“Ha- ha-! Lookie! Y-You look gooood!” Nubbins laughed as he covered his hands in the blood, dragging it down their spine, all the way to their ass. His hips didn’t stop moving into his lover as the blood began to drip down their cheeks. The hasty movement from his hips made the blood flow faster down his lover’s hole and his own cock.

“Oh-oh! Th-that is- ah-!” Nubbins’ sentence ran off as it turned into a pure moan. He never paid attention to his volume level, but especially when he was balls deep in his partner. Said lover was struggling to stay still with all the movement, their legs trembling and nearly buckling under the aggression and pure power coming from the unpredictable man.

Nubbins leaned over their back, continuing to rub the blood all over them. His nails dragged harshly onto their stained skin, slowly ripping it open. As did the bone bracelet that adorned his right wrist, it started to rip up their skin as his hand and wrist were dragged roughly all over their body. Nubbins didn’t even realize what he was doing, all the blood he was making his own lover shed. The man moved his hands under their torso to hold onto their chest. His hands were full as he groped and pulled at any skin he could get his hands onto. He used his harsh grip as leverage as he was now hunched over their body at an awkward angle, to continue his harsh thrusts.

His partner lifted one hand off of the cattle chute and held onto the large one on their chest. Both of them just moaned, Nubbins laughing and his partner closer to screaming.

Suddenly, Nubbins heard a much louder scream than normal as he decided to shove his teeth deep into his partner’s back.

“F-fuck, Nubs- hang on-! Ple-ase!” They tried to beg for mercy but their pleas only made Nubbins laugh harder. He slowly dragged his teeth out of the deep, bloody gouge in their skin. He shoved his big nose into the wound and licked at it, getting even more blood all over his face and teeth.

“Mmm- you ta-taste so good you might as well be deeesert tonight!” He laughed as he added more bite marks, his hands moved down to his lover’s hips, harshly digging his dirty nails into them and pulling them back against his cock.

“W-wait! To-too much, Nubbins!” His lover screamed, trying to move away from not only his mouth, but his cock that was continuously burying itself as deep as possible.

Before they could say anything, their body jolted and released onto their thighs and Nubbins’ already soaked cock. Their legs shook aggressively and nearly gave out, they had to grip onto the cattle chute so hard that their hands hurt.

“Fu-uck!” Their voice was broken and shaking, just like the rest of their body. It was so intense that it even made Nubbins’ hips stall for a moment, he couldn’t take the pressure that surrounded his cock. Even after his lover came, Nubbins didn’t stop, his hips grew more sporadic as he just threw himself at them over and over, bruising their backside.

“A-ah-! So- tight-!” Nubbins started to cum before either of them knew what was happening. After a quick second, he realized he started to cum inside and he ripped his cock out of his partner’s hole as fast as he could. The rest of his cum landed on his lover’s ass and their back, adding more color to the painting that covered their body. The man used his thumb to press his cock against his lovers hole, rubbing against it while he breathed heavy, watching his cum spray all over their soft skin. He could see his cum dripping on the edge of their hole and the sight nearly made him hard again.

“Lookie at aaall this-“ Nubbins said, his voice rougher and breathy, getting his hands covered in the blood, cum and sweat that covered his partner. He stuck two of his dirty fingers in their hole, not even trying to give them pleasure, just to pull out all the cum that he accidentally sprayed inside.

“T-This needs to be he-here…” He trailed off, like he was talking to himself. The man rubbed his dirty fingers, that were now covered in his own cum, all over their hole, making sure that it was messy and beautiful.

“Fuck…” Struggling to not collapse onto the ground, they tried to look back at their partner as he talked.

“Nubs, can you- can you help me now? Please?” They tried to ask but Nubbins had already pulled up his pants. He gave his partner’s bare all a mindless tap.

“I-I-I don’ know how ta work the chute!” He laughed, gesturing to the machine. His lover started to panic, pulling at the metal, leaving more angry red marks on the sides of their neck. Nubbins’ forte was more mechanics of the homemade variety. If he didn’t make the machine to begin with, chances were he couldn’t figure it out.

“What?! What d’you mean?! Ya don’t know how to open it-?!” Using one hand, they tried, and failed, to pull up their pants. The fabric was too tight, their legs too weak and the fact that they were covered in multiple gross liquids didn’t make the fabric move very easily.

“Fuck- Shit- Nubbins, help me!” They kept struggling, and pulling against the metal, simultaneously trying to fix their unfixable wardrobe.

“I k-know! I’ll go git Johnny!” Nubbins said with his big lopsided smile, proud of his own idea. His partner felt their heart drop, their face losing all color.

“No! Nonono- No! Nubbins, don’t you dare!” They kept thrashing and screaming, now trying to use their legs and more of their body to pull at their binding.

They could hear Nubbins’ laughter, it was loud and obnoxious. He kept giggling maniacally as he gave them a few more spanks on their ass before fixing his belt and nearly running out of the room.

Nubbins just kept laughing as his lover just kept yelling at him. The last thing they heard was the leather metal door to the slaughterhouse be ripped open and then slammed shut, sealing their fate.

#tcm game #tcm 1974 #texas chain saw massacre #fanfiction #texas chain saw massacre 1974 #x reader #headcanons #tcm nubbins #nubbins slaughter #nubbins sawyer #nubbins sawyer x reader #tcm #nubbins x reader #texas chainsaw massacre

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thatweirdbitchjax · 3 months ago

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Hello^^ bro this has been in my mind for so long

The sawyer brothers with a 80s goth s/o:P? U can choose if u want it to be platonic or romantic I don't mind:3

HAIII!!!^^ Dude, whenever you have an idea, I am here to write it (within reason of course). Don't be shy to come on back if you ever wanna request something else! I love receiving requests, and asks in general lol. Sorry, I'm yapping. I'm assuming that you mean the 80s goth style, and I don't know much about it, but I will try my best :]. Anyways, you didn't give a gender, so I'm just gonna do it gender neutral! You also didn't give which ones you wanted exactly, so I'm just gonna do the original three and Chop-Top. This could be determined as romantic with a few aspects, but if you ignore them, it is relatively neutral on romantic and platonic. :3

Goth Meet Sawyer

Bubba Sawyer

He loves your style

It's a little different than what he normally sees, so thats what drew him to you

Yea he got beaten when you weren't killed, but he didn't care, he loved your style

If you be mean to him however, your dead

Please please please do his makeup and let him do yours

Also, help him dress up in your style, he would like to be a goth (he just wants to be like you)

Nubbins and Chop like messing with you by calling you a witch

If you don't like it, Bubba will chase them off for you

Over all, very supportive

Nubbins Sawyer

He also really likes that you are different than the norm

He loves to talk about you

^That's a general headcannon but I'm adding it here anyways

He'll talk to victims, his brothers, he's even talked to road kill about you and how cool you are before

God forbid someone say something about the way you dress, they will be endlessly tortured before they die

Will call you a witch, and does not care if it hurts your feelings (he'll start feeling bad if you start ignoring him tho)

Also very supportive

^Will try and smudge your makeup tho

Chop Top Sawyer

Loves your style

^He has a few records of goth bands, wanna listen to them with him?

Another one that really likes talking about you

He bothers everyone with little facts about you

Often steals clothes he thinks you'll like

Likes calling you a Witch Bitch, and won't stop

^I like to think that he would stop after a while tho, so all you have to do is wait it out

Extremely supportive

Drayton Sawyer

Doesn't care

Like really doesn't care

He'll compliment you and stuff, but not often

Will allow you to play music in the kitchen, but only if you help him with cooking

^You can probably convince him to dance with you if you ask nicely (tug him around until he gives in

Will beat his brothers if they continuously bother you

Hes really in different about it

^thinks you could wear less makeup (it's just his old man coming out dw)

@puppet200 @purpleeggyboi @th3-r4t-48 @zeroisreallygood @im-a-simp898 @artsycrow46 @evry1h8s-me @aflairforthemelodramaticc @caretaleandotherstuff

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intimacyequalsdeath · 2 months ago

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Bubz's Slasher Fictober Day 13 : (Peach Cobbler) Cold Autumn Nights

Day 13! and we are still chugging through week two with only a few days left! I hope you have all been enjoying this week and will stay tuned for next week!

Notes: Minors DNI, Canon typical anything to do with the character, movie or game.

Support Me: KO-FI

The Slashers on those cold autumn nights...

Jason Voorhees:

~He's well prepared for when the night air gets a bit too nipy. His mother makes sure of it.

~When you come along, no exception, him and mama will make sure you're safely tucked away in bed in a cabin with the fireplace roaring before it even get's dark out.

~If he's going out he'll make sure to set you up with whatever you need, more blankets? An extra sweater ? Hot cocoa he may or may not have stolen from the dead counselors? He's gotchu.

~If you have to leave the cabin, he'll force you into a sweatshirt, a jacket and probably a coat as well as two pairs of pants. Mama always made him wrap up as a child and he doesn't want you getting sick.

~For someone who spends most of his time in any kind of weather at the bottom of a lake, he actually has a pretty good grasp on how to keep warm.

Nubbins Sawyer:

~Texas is much like the desert. It might not be as cold during the day but as soon as the sun goes down it's as cold as Antarctica.

~Nubbins doesn't really care about whether or not it's cold out for himself, but he'll make sure to lift a few warm clothing options off victims for you.

~He is another one who really wouldn't want you leaving at night, but if you HAD to, he would make sure you were dressed appropriately. He would remember back when Drayton used to get on him about it and parrot some of his sayings.

~If you don't need to go out, you and him will be tucked away in his bedroom. Him clinging to you like a spider monkey under his tattered blankets.

~Luckily for you both, colder nights meant colder mornings. Which meant just for a little while longer before Drayton would finally hoist himself out of bed and call up the stairs like a poor excuse for a rooster and disturb the perfect cozy haze.

Stu Macher:

~Stu hates the cold, like entirely hates the cold. Despite being Ghostface and having to out a lot in it, he would kill in just summer if he could.

~You wanna just stay in bed and cuddle all night to keep warm ? He's perfectly ok with that.

~But if you wanna go out? Sorry Stu can't help you with that, and on bad days he probably wouldn't let you go out at all .

~He will however adorn you with expensive sweaters and scarves, I mean Mr. and Mrs. Macher are loaded. He doesn't want to but if his baby wants to go out Stu is gonna ensure they at least look good while freezing.

~He also practically moves you in with him during the colder months, his parents are always gone anyway and when they are home don't really care. So 9 times outta 10 you'll be found wrapped up in a blanket on the couch in front of the fireplace.

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cvntryboy · 4 months ago

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first post on da tcm sideblog!

thinking about fall… i know rush week is shaping up to show Johnny spending the spooky season terrorizing sororities, but can I live out my farmer!Johnny au? please?

Johnny who turns Nancy’s property into a Haunted Hayride where literally no one comes out alive, and he has Nubbins and Sissy dress up to add spooks

Johnny who’s wearing flannel and all layered up for the cooler weather

Johnny who uses his trusty knife to carve pumpkins

Johnny who actually goes to farmer’s markets because all of his favorite fruits are in season around this time

#johnny slaughter #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter x male reader #johnny slaughter x you #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw game #the texas chainsaw massacre #tcm #tcm game #johnny sawyer #johnny sawyer x reader #johnny sawyer x you #nubbins sawyer #sissy slaughter #sissy sawyer #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher fluff

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gxthicwxrm · 1 year ago

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The Beginning Of The End- Johnny Slaughter

Character(s): Johnny Slaughter, Sissy Slaughter, Nubbins Slaughter, reader

Summary: The reader has lost her memories, and Johnny and the family are determined to remind her where she belongs.

Credit to @creepling for the idea. Their post is here.

---

With feet pounding against the dirt path, you dart down the driveway of the house you've been kidnapped and tortured. Petrified and paranoid, you look over your shoulder to see your fear is confirmed: a blonde, slender woman and a brunette muscular man following behind you, only a few paces away from grabbing you. Pushing harder, you kick dirt behind you as you zone in on the fence ahead of you, running as fast as your injuries allow. 'I can do this. I'm going to make it out of there.' You thought as you closed the distance between yourself and freedom. 'I'm going to make it home.'

You hear the electricity zapping before you see the sparks, but that doesn't waver you. 'I'll make the jump.' You've made your decision, feet slapping the ground.

As you came up to the fencing, you prepared yourself and went to dive past the fencing, only to get electricity pulsing through your body as you were thrown backward and hit the ground hard. A loud crack rings in your ears as pain swells from the back of your head. Gasping, the air in your lungs leaves with a single whoosh, still inching towards the fence. Everything is a blur as you look around. Nothing makes sense. Where are you again? Who are these three people around you? Why are they laughing and not helping you? All you knew was you had to keep moving, unsure of why but determined to proceed.

Digging your digits into the ground, you start crawling toward the exit. Your hand stumbles onto the metal sheet of electricity, and a hot, numbing blackness takes over.

---

Pain.

All you could feel was pain. Heat covers your body like a blanket, suffocating you. Your eyes feel like someone has placed weights on them, too heavy to open them. A sharp, prickling sensation wraps over your head, pulsing, as you attempt to move your hand, triggering a tingling pain to shoot up your arm, stopping your movements as a groan of pain leaves your dried lips.

"Oh J, it seems like our guest is awake!" A woman's voice sings to your right. Footsteps fill the silence around you when whatever was covering your eyes is suddenly lifted.

First, all you see is the bright white of the overhead light shining down, blinking the sting away as your eyes adjust to the new environment. Looking around, you notice the woman you presume was talking: a blonde-haired woman standing on your bedside with her hand resting on your shoulder, a small comfort. With much effort, you give the woman a slight smile that probably looked like a grimace, a dull ringing in your ears sending sharp pains into your skull. If you weren’t so out of it, you would’ve questioned the subtle raise of the woman’s brow before she quickly smiled back.

“Where am I?” You croak. The woman hesitates for a moment before nodding.

“You had an accident, but you are okay now. You are safe.” Her voice is soft and comforting, a contrast to the blinding light. Squinting, you move your head to the side the blonde stood on. “Oh, Dear, let me turn that off.” The woman rushes to the side of the room and flicks a switch by the door before setting something down on the table near the door—a flash of white cloth and glass.

“Thank you.” You mumble, looking around the strange room. “May I ask you something without sounding rude?” You ask, causing the short woman to pause before slowly facing you as a mysterious glint clouds her eyes that were not there before.

“Ask away.” She says, taking small steps toward me.

“Are you my family?” The woman pauses, her eyes wide as her mouth opens and closes, seemingly unsure.

“Yes, you are.” A husky voice says to your left; a tall, dark-haired man walks in the door, followed by a slightly shorter man with a uniquely shaped birthmark on his face. The taller, more muscular man strides to your side, reaching for your hand.

“B-Baby? How are you feeling?” The man asks, sitting on your bed as you hear a soft scoff behind the brown-eyed man before you. Even through the piercing headache, you could see his sharp, defined features and dark eyes you could get lost in. ‘Who was this man?’ You asked yourself as you took in his beauty.

“Who are you?” you ask.

“Do you remember your name?” He asks, surprising you, but you thought about it. After a moment of concentration, it came off you.

Y/N, Y/N L/N.

“Yes, Y/N.” You answer as a look flashes across his face before a smile replaces it.

“Good. Good. What else do you remember?” He prods, his thumb drawing shapes on your hand as his other rests on your blanketed thigh. Taking more time to comb through your brain, you try hard to conjure up any memory but sigh when you cannot. Tears slowly fill your eyes as you look between the three strangers who weren’t strangers, looking for answers you knew they didn’t have.

“I can’t remember anything. Why can’t I remember? Who are you? What happened to me?” Your voice rasps as you raise your voice slightly.

“I’m Johnny. I’m your boyfriend. This is Sissy and Nubbins.” He gestures to the other two.

“You were cooking and fainted, hitting your head pretty hard on the coffee table. The water burns your hands and feet a bit, but the d-doctors” He glances to Sissy, who nods before turning back to you. “-said that they will heal nicely.” He finishes with a reassuring smile.

“I fainted?” You ask. Could it be that simple?

“Yes.” He says, squeezing your hand.

“Let’s let your girlfriend rest up, boy. Let’s go catch dinner since you let ours go.” The man called ‘Nubbins’ sneered at Johnny, earning a glare from the taller man. Johnny turns back to you as Nubbins walks into the hall.

“I’ll be back after a while. When I get back, we’ll go home, baby.” He promises, quickly placing a kiss on your forehead before stomping off. Home? Wasn’t this home?

“Johnny has- You and Johnny have your own place. This is the…family house. He lives by the Junkyard. You’ll love it again.” She says as she hands you a glass with two white pills. “Hear. It’s late, and you need rest.” She says

“What is it?” You eye the pills.

“Pain management.” She responds quickly, pushing the glass to your lips. With a nod, you take the pills and swallow them down. The cool water coats your dry throat, bringing life back into your body. Walking toward the door, Sissy stops, hand on the frame.

“If you need anything, scream.” She says before following the two men, leaving you alone to try to think of anything you remember, but it only brings you waves of pain instead of memories. With a sad sigh, you close your eyes, allowing sleep to take you away.

---

Hey guys! This is my first Slasher and Slaughter fic!!! This is the first part of a potential series. Let me know what yall think!!

#johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter #johnny slaughter imagines #johnny slaughter fanfic #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw game #sissy slaughter #nubbins slaughter #texas chainsaw massacre game #texas chainsaw massacre fanfic

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bunniekittiee · 1 year ago

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What would Nubbins be like with a best friend? She tells him that she considers him special and that she likes spending time with him... and she may come to feel something more for Nubbins

I’ll answer this in headcanons/drabble! Im also referring to the reader as “you” cause it’s easier that way but reader is a female. Tried my best with this one

Here we goooo:

The Sawyers and your family were close as the farms were close in proximity.

Your family had known it was Drayton by himself raising his siblings for the most part, so sometimes they took the load off of his hands when he needed a break.

This is how your relationship with Nubbins started.

You were both very young, about five years old, and when you first met, you were extremely shy.

The young boy was excited, acting out wildly as he could not control himself.

It made you nervous.

But after some adjustment, you began to enjoy his presence.

You first discovered roadkill together and you both became fascinated with dead critters.

Sometimes you both would poke at their bodies with sticks out of pure curiosity.

Eventually, you started going to school but you noticed that Nubbins did not go.

But everyday, he waited at the bus stop for you to get off and so you both could play.

It was your favorite part of the day and you could barely contain your excitement at school because of how much you wanted to be with Nubbins.

You had a hard time making friends at school because they were nothing like your little roadkill obsessed friend at home.

So Nubbins ended up being your only friend.

Chop Top teased him and said that you were his girlfriend, but Nubbins always tackled him and told him to shut his mouth.

You both were inseparable. Drayton always smiled when he saw the both of you running around together.

He found both of you asleep in the pasture one time and couldn’t help but chuckle.

It was cute to see you two together.

As time went on, you both began to grow up. Grow into your bodies. Adjust to hormones.

Going from being shorter than you, to towering over you in a quick amount of time.

Your body began to change too, curves forming and your womanly features coming in.

Your style had changed as well, going from wearing frilly, cute clothes to dark, gothic-like clothing to match your interests.

You both had stayed very close, absolute best friends.

But there was some feelings between you two that neither of you addressed.

The way he wrapped his arms around your waist to lift you up to the birds nest in the tree.

The way he held your hand to look at the new animal bone ring you made.

The way he smiled when you brushed his hair out after washing it for him.

The way he kept his body close to yours when pulling you in for a hug.

He noticed how flush your body was to his when he was showing you how to throw a knife at a haystack.

Sometimes you both stole glances at each other but tried to make sure the other person did not notice.

There were many things between you two that you did but did not talk about.

It was almost taboo to bring it up.

So neither of you spoke about it, continuing your friendship as if there wasn’t something more to you both.

Drayton always scolded him to make sure he did not get you pregnant, which would have horrified Nubbins if he was not in love with you.

One day, Johnny joked that he was going to “steal that fine piece of ass from Roadkill Boy” and it set Nubbins off bad.

He hurled insults and physical objects at Johnny, screaming to stay the fuck away from you and if he didn’t, he would slit his throat.

Johnny knew he struck a nerve and just chuckled, only wanting to get underneath Nubbins’ skin.

You asked Nubbins if he would like to have a picnic with you in the sunflower fields and he quickly agreed.

The next afternoon, you skipped down to the Sawyer house in a black, lacy dress with a black cropped bell sleeve cardigan cover up (long ass description I am so sorry).

You wore bone jewelry Nubbins had gifted you and you curled your hair to perfection.

When he answered the door, he felt his heart skip.

You were absolutely beautiful.

Chop Top yelled that Nubbins had a hard on which embarrassed him a lot and Johnny just about died from laughter.

But he did not have a hard on, to your dismay.

You gently grabbed his hand and pulled him outside to go to the sunflower field together.

He seemed a bit off, he was not his usual, wiry self.

He seemed nervous and a bit out of it. Not usual Nubbins behavior.

“Are you okay, darlin’?” you asked as you both made your way into the sunflower field.

“Y-yeah.” he stuttered.

You frowned. This was not your usual Nubbins. You wondered what was wrong with him, but you didn’t want to push it any further.

“Well, I made us some sandwiches and got chips. I made your favorite dessert too!” you chirped as you pulled him quicker. “Come on, I’m starvin’.”

He giggled as you pulled on his hand softly to speed up his pace. Your hand fit perfectly into his.

Setting up the quilt and giving Nubbins a show with how your dress started to ride up your thighs, you both sat down on the quilt with a small sigh. You took out the lunch you had prepared and you both began to eat, talking about the latest roadkill you had seen and the latest victim the Sawyers had mutilated. You knew what went on, but it did not bother you. You were twisted in your own ways. But Nubbins loved that you didn’t seem to mind their bloodthirsty tendencies and their cannibalism.

However, he did enjoy the sandwiches you made even if it wasn’t made of human flesh or organs. Sometimes he had a craving for something other than human. And you filled that craving. After the main course, you took out dessert. A double chocolate cake that you decorated carefully with chocolate icing and chocolate sprinkles. Nubbins had a sweet tooth as well, and chocolate was a huge weakness of his.

“Y-you’re the best, ya’ know that?” he said as he munched on a slice of cake. “This is amazing.”

You smiled. “Aww, well I had to make it. Ya’ are my special boy, ya’ know.”

A slight blush covered his cheeks as he giggled. “Am I your s-special boy?”

“Of course you are, you are my best friend in the whole world.” you replied with a blush tinging your cheeks as well. You opened your mouth to say something else, but you closed it.

He tilted his head. Some things did not go unseen with Nubbins. “What else were y-ya’ going to say?”

You swallowed and shook your head. “Nothin’.”

“I thought we d-didn’t keep secrets from each other.” he pouted.

You felt your hands begin to sweat nervously. You fumbled with the trim of your dress. “Well, I really enjoy spending time with you. It’s what I look forward to a lot. Just being with you.” You avoided his gaze.

“I-I-I feel the same way too.” He replied. “I really l-like spending time with ya’ too, Y/N.”

An awkward silence filled the air as the birds chirped quietly in the background. You both looked away from each other, not sure what else to say.

“I’m in love with ya’.” Nubbins said softly, the only sentence he said without stuttering.

Your head snapped up. “Seriously?”

Nubbins slightly flinched at your tone, immediately recoiling back. “I-it’s okay if ya’ don’t feel the same way-”

Gaining some courage, you leaned forward and cradled his face between your hands. “Nubs, I’m in love with ya’ too.”

He blinked at you in bewilderment. “Y-ya’ are?”

“Always have been.” you said quietly as you looked down. “Ya’ are my whole world.”

A smile tugged at his lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer. “Oh, I knew ya’ was gonna’ come around!”

You giggled as he began to get hyper. “My special boy, I always have been around.”

You kissed him gently. He was not very sure what to do, as he only had watched a lot of television that only showed a few kissing scenes, but he just went with his instincts. After what felt like forever, you pulled away and grinned at your Nubbins. He grinned back.

“So w-we’re a thing?”

“Yes we are!”

You both spent the rest of the evening together in the sunflower fields, watching the stars in the sky and talking. He held you close to him as you snuggled into him. This felt like home to him.

After some time, he noticed how frequently you were yawning and figured it was time to let you get back home to rest. He walked you to your house, which was not very far but he wanted to make sure you made it safe. He was not going to let his lady walk by herself in the dark. You kissed him goodbye once more and hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go of him. He didn’t want to let go of you either

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Nubs.” You said sleepily.

“Y-yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He replied as he ruffled your hair. You smiled at him as you went inside.

Trekking back to his home, he could barely contain his excitement. You were finally his and he was so proud of it. When he walked inside his home, Sissy hounded him immediately.

“Why are ya’ so smiley about?” she teased. “Someone got a little girlfriend?”

He nodded and smiled more.

Sissy gasped. “Ya’ finally got Y/N?!”

Chop Top peeked his head around the corner of the door frame. “Nubbins got a girlfriend?!” He started to dance around and tease his twin. “Nubbins got a girlfriend! Nubbins got a girlfriend!” he sang.

The hitchhiker could not help the string of giggles that came out of him. His cheeks hurt from the amount of smiling he was doing.

Bubba was freaking out with Sissy as they both squealed with happiness.

Johnny clasped his shoulder. “Ya’ shifty sum-bitch, I knew ya’ had it in ya’!”

With all the clamor and excitement, they did not hear the phone ringing except for Drayton who answered it and relayed the message.

“Nubbins!” he yelled as he came into the living room. “Ya’ little girlfriend called and said to come back to her house, she forgot to give ya’ somethin’.”

“Yeah, forgot to give him some ass!” Johnny and Chop Top howled with laughter as Sissy punched Johnny in the shoulder. “Oww, Sissy what the fuck?!”

Nubbins had a faint blush and nodded. “A-alright.”

Drayton eyed his brother. “And ya’ better make sure there ain’t no hanky panky goin’ on! Don’t need no love child of yours to be runnin’ about!”

“Lighten up old man, let Nubbins have this one!” Johnny said. “Go on, get to ya’ girlfriend now!”

Nubbins exited the house and made his way back to your house quickly. He was a little confused as to what you wanted to give to him, but he didn’t mind walking to your house this late. In fact, he didn’t mind doing anything for you at all.

He noticed that it was empty. Your parents must have been gone and he didn’t take notice of it earlier when he walked you home. He was too busy thinking about how you loved him. Knocking on your door, he glanced around and shifted onto his other leg. He was still a bit hyper from the commotion of his family.

When you answered the door, he felt his blood rush. You were wearing panties and a plain t shirt that outlined your curves. He tried not to stare too much.

“Wh-what is it that ya’ wanted to give to me?” he asked.

You chuckled. “Actually, I just wanted to see if ya’ wanted to have a sleepover. My parents are gone.”

He smiled. “I would l-l-love that.”

You both cuddled together and watched a movie, dozing off as you two soaked in each other’s presence. He was yours, and you were his. Forever.

BONUS:

“Where in the hell is that boy?!” Drayton complained. “It’s 12 in the goddamn morning!”

“Like I said old man, he’s gettin’ some ass right about now.” Johnny replied as he and Chop Top watched a horror movie and ate popcorn. “It’s best to leave them be. Ain’t hurtin’ anyone.”

“Y-yeah, he ain’t had a girlfriend ever.” Chop Top said while shoving popcorn into his mouth. “It’s g-good to see him happy.”

“Fuckin’ A.” Johnny said as he nodded his head.

Drayton sighed. “I’ll let it be this time, but I swear to God if she ends up pregnant I am beating the shit out of both of ya’.”

“They are gonna’ fuck like rabbits.” said the Slaughter boy with a chuckle.

“What was that, boy?” His mother asked in a warning-like tone.

“Nothin’ mama.”

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