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johnnys-breastmilk · 3 months

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What about the reader is terrified of spiders, so when johnny corners them, they back into a wall where there's webs and spiders. They freak out, preferring to jump into the arms of a killer than have spiders on them.

Id love to know how johnny would react, if he'd be surprised and try to talk them through their fear or would torture them by making them touch the webs. (This would definitely be me because im terrified of spiders 😅😅)

johnny slaughter x gender neutral!reader

a/n — IM SCARED OF THEM TOO. FUCK GODS GREEN EARTH NO ONE WOULD EVER WILLINGLY MAKE THOSE FREAKs. (but bees scare me more and I injected just a tad of that in here too cause they can FLY. ohhhhh if spiders could fly too it'd be over for me😭) btw let me know if Johnny needs to be written differently, I'm still getting used to writing a southern character since I usually write characters with transatlantic accents and dialect and alll!

summary — check the ask! basically the same, I just tried to make Johnny somewhere in the middle between mean and comforting + ambitious ending to the best I could

warnings — implied harm, mentions of blood (it's really tame)

word count — 2k

~~~ story under the cut!

You had to get out of this place. You didn’t know what this was, all you knew was that you were underground, trapped in a maze with psychos trying their hardest to get you. Screams came above as well as below, where you were. It was dark in some areas and barely lit in others, letting you know that there must have been a way up. There was a guy with a freaking chainsaw! But worst of all, there were spiders. Everywhere. They rappelled down from the rusty light fixtures and sheets of metal tinning the roof of each tunnel with a thin glistening string that you had to be mindful of to avoid. The blood on your face was no match for a spider coming into contact with it, or any part of your body for that matter. You couldn’t count how many times you had walked right into one moving itself down a line of silk. In every crevice and crack, in all the hiding spots, and even weaving little webs between each rickety step leading up from the basement.

The place was already confusing enough as is, but when you reached the top step—where the high Texas sun met the line of darkness enshrouding the basement—you knew you were in the clear from those eight-legged freaks. Now, you just had to deal with the ones with two legs, buzzing around like worker bees trying to get their sweet, sweet blood-red honey.

The start of it was easy—their footsteps strong and heavy and the creaking of the floorboards gave away their positions, so you knew what rooms to avoid in their farmhouse. One guy was too busy setting up traps around the various places you could squeeze yourself through, and the blonde girl a few feet away from him was waiting to “add a little something” as she put it. You didn’t want to stick around to find out what she meant, so you found freedom through an unlocked door at the back of the house. Their front yard was a mess of old cars and fencing found on farms in the area—you had driven by enough when traveling to Newt to recognize them. They were used for cattle, but their purpose here was to keep people in with its complex layout, and you were almost out of the dilapidated mess.

Down along the path was a shack with what you hoped would be more supplies. Something like another thin object to slide into the various padlocks these freaks had installed, or something sharp to defend yourself with. Whatever it was, it just had to be something useful. You did your best not to get spotted, keeping away from the beaten path by ducking into the tall grass for most of your walk down to the shack. The first door you noticed on the exterior was unlocked and opened with ease like they weren’t trying to protect the things inside—or stop anyone from leaving. But everything looked to be personal on the inside, intimately lived in with a mess of wrappers and laundry and dirty dishes crowding up such a small space. He was a worker bee with no time for himself.

And just like that, you could hear his buzzing in the form of footsteps from outside. You moved to hide behind the side of his couch, crouching and hoping that it covered enough of your figure to make it seem like you weren’t there. His boots were heavy on the ground outside and heavier on the wood floor. He had little care for the door, slamming it open with a loud bang. Maybe he would do a quick sweep around the room and leave, but the words uttered under his breath proved you wrong. “They’re always so careless…”

He must have been tracking you, and you wondered for how long. Maybe that’s why it had been so easy to get down to this place—he wanted you to come here. While you were hidden behind his couch, you took the brief opportunity to map the area out. Everything was either too big or too risky to run for if you wanted to fight back, but there was a slit in the wall furthest from you. It looked like a piece of it had fallen off, creating the perfect diffusion in the house’s cracks for your escape. The only thing now was deciding when to run, when to risk it all, and expose yourself for a brief moment before you slipped through the little mousehole.

But that never happened. Your window of opportunity escaped faster than you when you entered this building because the man’s footsteps were steady, straight, and determined. He didn’t miss a single beat and rounded his couch in seconds upon entering the place. You could see his fingers tooling with the knife in his hands, preparing to keep a firm grip on it as he slashed and sliced. He went for his first swing, missing as you stood up and made a dash for the slit in the wall. You still intended on running, even if he had already found you.

“You thought you could hide in my stink? When this is all over, I’ll add that pretty face of yours to the collection.” The voice sounded painfully close to you, and you could feel the swish of air as he swung again with his knife. He didn’t land the hit but in your attempt to dodge it, you moved too far to one side and came into contact with the wall to your left. Your exit was so close, but he closed in on you, making it impossible to reach unless you intended to overpower the man with sheer strength alone.

With your back pressed flat against the wall, you had no choice but to accept what was going to come to you. That was until you felt a sensation along your neck and arms. It was this light, almost invisible touch but you knew it all too well. Just one strand of it needed to ghost your skin, and the rest of your body would light up with fear—thinking that the silky sensation of a spider’s web was all over you. It was irrational, but also completely sane. Those eight-legged freaks were quick to weave webs and they could be crawling all over you right now! You couldn’t stand the thought of one being on you or near you, let alone multiple. In your panic, you moved away from the wall and towards the man in front of you. Who cares if he had a knife and a murderous intent? Those spiders had eight legs, were probably poisonous, and would bite you the first chance they got, at least this guy would only do one of those when you were in his arms. Your arms were between your body and his, feeling the reassurance of the fabric of his tattered black tank. He seemed to be happy by the outcome of your reaction, but he didn’t know what caused it other than his own ego.

“Good, you’re makin’ this easy for me. I’ll be nice and make it hurt a little less.” He laughed, sounding delighted before it faded into something sinister. He spoke again but with a gruff tone, then confusion followed, “Playtime—huh?”

Johnny noticed that you weren’t looking at him with pleading eyes. The begging he was used to hearing, the same kind he would chuckle and grin at before turning those cries into screams never came. Instead, your head was turned back to look at the decently sized web spun up against the wall. It filled out the entire corner and it was almost impossible to not touch it when he backed you into that part of his shack.

“The hell is your problem?” He asked, “Do those things bother ya?”

You nodded your head. When you did look back towards him, he was met with a frustrated look with outlines of fear twisting your face and twinging your voice. “Why haven’t you killed that thing?”

“He ain’t hurtin’ nobody!” Johnny defended himself. “I like to think that me and him have a… a similar connection and he eats the mosquitoes takin’ all the blood form ya that I want to drain, but I’ll get rid of ‘em if it means you’ll get your priorities straight.”

Johnny wasted no time moving around you and getting to work on the spider’s web. This was your chance to run, the hole in the wall just a few feet away as you backed up to give him some room. But you didn’t go anywhere, you stood and watched as he tooled his knife in circles, spindling it until roughly half of his blade was covered in a spool of cobwebs with a few spiders too stunned to move resting on it.

He turned back around, holding the blade close enough to himself that it was making you uncomfortable just seeing it. You imagined them crawling under his gloves, laying eggs, and hatching a million spider babies in the few seconds they were under there, and then a flurry would crawl out from underneath and create a sleeve of themselves over his arm.

“Could you… get rid of it?” You asked, wincing at the sight of the spiders. They weren’t even moving—but maybe they were preparing to jump like some of them do.

Johnny was fed up by this point. He started to feel as if he had gone after the worst of the victims by tracking you. “Aw hell, that thing is more scared of you than you are of it!”

“I just… hate them,” you shuddered. Your eyes darted up to his face, taking solace in that as it was a much better sight than the wiry spiders he was handling. You tried to think of something else to, and you ended up saying something smart back to the unreadable stranger. “And your knife won’t be much use if you can’t, uh, stab me.”

You could hear him complaining to himself as he brushed past you, “I should make you lick this for giving me trouble.”

But he never did. He marched right outside, making sure you followed close behind him with a wave of his covered hand. It gave you a second to think while he was distracted. Why was he being so nice? He was part of the same group that had you strung up by the arms hours ago, and now he was clearing his place of the spiders—which, he would have a lot of work to do if you were to stay here. The sheer number of them would make you call an exterminator for the entire state of Texas; this place felt like their central hive. Your thoughts were interrupted when you stepped outside, and you two stood on the flattened dirt path leading back up to the house you had just escaped from. Johnny had stopped, turning back to point the blade at your face.

“See?” He said, bringing the blade closer to you. He got a kick out of seeing you squirm, but you had an underlying trust that he wouldn’t do anything too impulsive like throwing it at you. “Didn’t move an inch.”

He bent down, kneeling to keep himself steady as he pinched the part of his knife where the silvery steel met the molded handle and, with one clean sweep, wiped the spiders and their webs clean off onto the ground. He stood back up and pressed his boot down into the dirt. You watched with your own eyes as the spiders were obliterated into nothing but mangled remains. For extra insurance, he swiped the blade of his knife across his jean-clad thigh to make sure it was clean. Then, he turned back to you with a proud look on his face.

“There we go.” He trailed off, his eyes darkening at the realization that all of your attention was back on him. “Now, where were we…?”

#x reader #x male reader #johnny slaughter #johnny tcm #texas chainsaw massacre game #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter x you #johnny slaughter x male reader #johnny slaughter x gn!reader #x gender neutral reader #johnny slaughter x gender neutral reader #johnny slaughter x y/n #x y/n #x you #fanfic #tw spiders #spider tw #arachnophobia tw

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heartsforvenus · 14 days

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imagine dating johnny...

✿ you'd definitely be someone he picked up in hopes of turning you into dinner if you catch my drift

✿ but i think you'd intrigue him so much that he just couldn't kill you

✿ he probably wouldn't bring you around his family

✿ probably lowkey stalks you before and after you start dating

✿ he definitely just takes you out to bars and calls that a date

✿ don't think he'd do anything really romantic like taking you out to dinner

✿ if he did, he'd probably make you pay

✿ he would give you gifts that he stole from his victims, like jewellery and clothes

✿ extremely possessive, duh

✿ any man that looks in your direction will be found dead in his own home

✿ once the two of you became more serious, he'd introduce you to his family

✿ carefully, of course, he didn't want to scare you away

✿ you'd probably meet cook first, as he's the most relatively normal one

✿ you'd meet him when you went to visit johnny at work at the gas station

✿ johnny would get more comfortable and invite you around to his house and the family house

✿ he knew if you got too freaked out and wanted to leave him, he'd always have the upper hand, no matter how hard it would be to kill you it was family first

✿ if you reacted well to meeting his family, let's just say you'd better plan to stick around forever

✿ i imagine bubba would love you the most out of all of the sawyers, if you're kind to him he'd melt like an ice cream

✿ hitchhiker and sissy would probably like you, too, although you found them a little eccentric

✿ cook would like you if you helped around the house

✿ now, nancy would probably be conflicted about you. she wouldn't like that you distract her johnny from his work and his family, but she wouldn't do anything against you because she could tell how happy you made johnny

✿ just don't stay alone with her too long

✿ johnny would bring you to his shack, but you'd have to clean up after him

✿ how on earth does he live with all of those beer bottles on the floor???

✿ i'm sure you'd have to tell him that you love him first as he isn't one to share his feelings

✿ and he probably wouldn't even say it back that first time

✿ he's not the type of guy for marriage, and he doesn't have the money for it anyway

✿ if you really wanted it, he'd steal you a ring and just call you his wife

✿ overall, he's toxic, but he does love you. he's just a product of his environment, and if he'd grown up with any other family he'd be the best boyfriend ever

#Johnny Sawyer #texas chainsaw game #tcm game #Johnny tcm #Johnny slaughter #Johnny Sawyer x reader #Johnny slaughter x reader #x reader #horror #Texas chainsaw massacre #tcm #fanfic #fanfiction #horror fanfic #heartsforvenus #gn!reader

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struckd0wn · 8 months

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𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟒: 𝐎𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥- 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫

Johnny had snook you of of the family house and out to his shed, there the two of you would have full privacy.

He had you laying on the makeshift bed he made, which was just some hay bales pushed together and covered with a thick blanket. Johnny's fingers slowed as you neared you climax, then full stop.

You whined loudly, tugging on the hem of his shirt desperately. It had been the third time he denied your orgasm and you were sick of it. "Johnny,it's not funny." You pout as he laughs at your distressed expression, hips trying to chase the touch of his hand.

"Hell yeah it is!" Johnny would cheer out, feeling you clench around his stilled fingers.

"We barley get alone time and you're using it to torture me." You snap back, turning your head away from him. His fingers begin to move again, starting slowly, watching you get worked up all over again.

Your moans echoed around the small shed as he attacks you sweet spot, his thumb coming up to stroke you hard clit. You hips raise of the hay bail, pushing into his fingers, in need for release. You can feel it build up, stomach twisting in pleasure.

Johnny stops.

You sob out to him, eyes begining to water. Your boyfriend's grin is massive, smiling down at you with an evil expression.

#smut #ftm reader #johnny sawyer x reader #johnny slaughter x reader #trans reader #transmasc reader #drabbles #kinktober #gn reader #kinktober 2023 #gender nuetral reader #sub male reader #johnny slaughter #johnny sawyer

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johnny-slaughter-me · 9 months

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— “ 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭. ” | Johnny Slaughter x Gender-Neutral Reader.

Headcanon. My take on a fluffy alphabet with Johnny.

Notes. English isn't my native language so typos and grammar issues are likely.

Warnings. This fic is sfw. Canon gore and cannibalism mentioned.

Enjoy. I hope you enjoy the content. Much love, Cherry. 🍒

- A. Activities, how they spend their time with and without their s/o.

Without you, Johnny mostly spends his time hunting or preparing for hunts. Hunting is (almost) everything for him. It gives him a thrill to chase and a sadistic satisfaction when he kills his prey. With you he'd grown to love more of what nature the backyard has to offer, whether it would be the sunflower fields or stargazing at night from the bed of his truck. He really enjoyed spending time with you and had learned to appreciate the simple moments you two could share together.

- B. Beauty, what do they find pretty about themselves and their s/o.

Johnny has a charming look, he maintains a certain figure as it helps him in hunts and in loring and tricking victims, Johnny wouldn't be out here calling himself beautiful. He boosts his ego though other means, mostly ones relying on strength and power, so he finds his arms to be one of his most admirable physical features of himself. As for you, it was something in your eyes, that captured him and had made him decide to keep you as own of the family rather then dinner. He'd learn so much about just from how your eyes reflected your feelings. He can get lost in them for hours if he had a chance.

- C. Comfort, how would they comfort his s/o.

Johnny isn't one to talk things through, he is a man of patience, as seen through his incredible hunting skills, but his exposure to social interactions is limited. He takes pride in how strong he is, depending on the situation he would either hold you in his arms, let you take your time to calm yourself while knowing he is there for you, or physically and verbally defend you if you are in a situation that calls for it. Needless to say, he'd kill for you.

- D. Dream, how do they picture their future with their s/o.

There's not a lot of room for change in Johnny's life, he isn't planning on it either. Family is for life, and he wants you to be a part of it. Some nights he'd dream of you finally eating human flesh and not the meat of the dead rabbits he'd hunt down for you. Help the family deal with the victims and enjoy it as much as he does. He wants you to truly devote yourself to the family just like he does .

- E. Equal, how much effort do they put in the relationship compared to their s/o.

The relationship you have with Johnny is never going to be an equal one, considering it started with you originally being kidnapped for dinner, and the fact that he and his family can always turn you into it at any given moment puts you in a powerless position. However he does his best to accommodate you, hunting rabbits so you won't eat human flesh, getting you basic necessities from his trips to the city, spending quality time with you during the short windows of time he has off "work". You had also grown to like Johnny and you try to help around the house, and spend whatever time with Johnny you can, always reassuring him that you love him.

- F. Fight, how are fights between them and their s/o.

You and Johnny haven't fought much, nothing big at least. If you had you'd probably not be among the living. Sometimes you have petty fights, but Sissy told Johnny its probably because you are still getting used to the family and the new environment you are living in. So he'd learn to ignore it. They usually end by you apologizing to him. Johnny will never apologized, at least not sincerely.

- G. Gratitude, how grateful are they for their s/o and the things their s/o is doing for them?

Whilst Johnny's mindset is that of a savior, he was the one sparing your life and thus you are now his. I would like to believe he is grateful for you not trying to tun away, for being kind to his family and to him, and for truly loving him, a love no one in the family could ever give him.

- H. Honestly, are they honest and open with their s/o? Do they have any secrets?

He doesn't really hide anything from you. You know of the family's secret and that is what mostly shape his character. He won't necessarily open up and talk about his past or feelings though, and the one time he tried hiding something from you was the fear that washed him during the first week of your stay with the family, where you hid in one of the cars because you were scared of a hunt that went down between bubba and a victim. He'd never let you see him in a vulnerable state.

- I. Inspiration, has their s/o inspired them and vice versa.

You had inspired Johnny to also enjoy his downtime and not just the hunts. You thought him that there's more to life then the adrenaline that comes with the chase. In a similar way, Johnny inspired you to be more grateful for every moment you spend breathing, and what a true community feels like. Sure they are twisted but that doesn't mean they don't inspire you every now and then. Honorable mention is how inspiring Johnny's dedication is. Both for you, the family, and for his hunts.

- J. Jealousy, how jealous are they.

Johnny is jealous and possessive, but he manipulates his jealousy so it comes off as more of a possessive aspect then a jealous one. Johnny doesn't like showing anything that could be interpreted as a weakness.

- K. Kiss, are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like.

He is surprisingly a good kisser, Johnny mostly care about his own needs and usually kisses you messily and roughly when you two have some alone time. He won't really kiss you in front of the family. He will now return a soft good morning kiss to you, but he still prefers makeout sessions over small soft kisses.

- L. Love confession, how do they confess to their s/o.

Johnny originally kidnapped you for dinner, but after taking a liking to you he just kept you alive and toyed with you. He never really confessed to loving you, but his actions throughout the time you spend with him let you know that he does indeed love you.

- M. Marriage, do they wanna get married? What would the marriage be like?

Despite how untraditional the family is, mostly Nancy, would want the two of you to get married. That would be a way to truly have you as part of them, and Johnny wouldn't oppose to the idea of marriage with you. Johnny isn't a big dreamer but after the initial start of your relationship he fell harder and harder and he truly wants you to be a part of the family. It would also make him worry less if he has to go out of town and leave you alone since the family will never turn on one another. That is if you ignore the fact that Nancy killed Johnny's mom and stole him to raise him as her own. The ring would be simple and the wedding would just be a family dinner but with some homemade decor and a little ceremony. Life after the wedding won't be much different, the day to day would be similar, however if you wanted to have any kids, the family would help keep them safe.

- N. Nicknames, what do they call their s/o and vice versa.

Johnny's pet names for you are darlin' and doll, sometimes he'd also call you a cutie. You mostly call him honey, sometimes babe, although never baby, he doesn't like being called baby. (In bed he'd give you more dirty pet names and likes it when you call him daddy).

- O. On cloud 9, what are they like when they are in love.

Johnny's love language is actions of service, he takes pride in his physical strength and appearance. He never lets you carry anything heavy even if you are capable, he protects you if you are scared of something, but also he likes to hunt animals for you since you aren't fond of their premium human meat. The family can tell Johnny is in love with you, as usually he only thinks about himself and devotes a little bit of thought for the family, but sometimes he goes out of his way to help you or be there near you.

- P. PDA, how are they with their s/o infront of others.

He won't kiss you or call you pet names infront of the family for the longest time, he didn't want them to find something to use against him, he'd be more open about your relationship once he feels the family is comfortable with you and won't try to slaughter you. But infront of anyone other than the family, Johnny he really doesn't care. He knows he can protect you and you what they think of him doesn't matter to him. He'll do whatever he wants with you.

- Q. Quirk, a random ability they have that benefits the relationship.

His truck, he sometimes takes you on rides through the different parts of land the family owns. It's refreshing for the both of you. Johnny is always the one driving, no one gets to drive his truck no matter how much he loves them.

- R. Romance, how romantic are they? Is it creative or cliché.

Johnny is romantic in his own ways. Mostly through shielding you from danger and trying to provide for you. Sometime into your relationship you started initiating some romantic times in tbe sunflower fields or through car rides with him, and now he himself offers them to you.

- S. Support, are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in their s/o?

Johnny isn't very supportive in that regard. He wants you to be part of the family, if you want to take on a certain role within the family and its not one that will possibly put you in danger, he'd be all for it. But if you dream of your old life, Johnny would go out of his way to sabotage that and try to get you to shift your goals into ones that benefit the family.

- T. Thrill, do they need new things to spice up the relationship or do they prefer a routine.

Your relationship with Johnny is limited. You can't really leave the lands the family own but even then you are limited to safer areas where living victims aren't roaming free. Johnny's life is very much based on a routine and he has no problems with the relationship being the same. But if you suggest something new to do every now and then and it is within the boundaries of where you are allowed to be, he won't say no to you.

- U. Understanding, how understanding are they of their s/o. Are they empathetic?

Johnny is narcissistic, and he cannot undo himself into a good person. He does try to be understanding and to accommodate you. Took some advice from Sissy at first, since she had actually spend time living outside the family's land in different cultes but he mostly relayed on skills he picked up to study and capture his victims to form an understanding of you.

- V. Value, how important is this relationship to them.

Your relationship with Johnny literally means the world to him. He never knew he was capable of experiencing love like this, no matter how twisted the circumstances of what formed it are. And he also knows he will never be able to experience it with anyone else, so he places a great value on you and the relationship with you.

- W. Wild card, a random fluff headcanon.

You asked Nancy about Johnny's birthday once, and she gave you the date. You took it upon yourself to try and make him something sweet for desert and you set the dinner table with some flowers you found in the garden. No one expected it, but the family, and mostly Johnny (he has a sweet tooth) really appreciate this gesture and enjoyed the dessert. Now it became a tradition that for each family member's birthday you'd set a special table with something sweet. They all looked forward to the occasion as well.

- X. Xoxo, are they very affectionate, do they love kisses and cuddles.

Johnny is a fairly rough person at first he wasn't one to really kiss you if it wasn't leading up to or during spicy times. He did let you since day one sleep in his bed with him, and as you slowly felt yourself falling for him you started snuggling up to him at night. He never pushed you away and now he can't fall asleep without you by his side.

- Y. Yearning, how are they when they miss their s/o.

The only days you and Johnny are separated is when he has to go out of town. He can't help but miss you, and he copes with his loneliness by having a side quest of getting you something you'd like. When he finally gets back home and gifts you whatever it was that he thought you'd like, seeing you thank him each time with your eyes litting up like a child opening a Christmas present makes it all worth it.

- Z. Zeal, are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship, and how so.

Considering Johnny is a serial killer, and him and his family practicing cannibalism, him letting you live- and arguing with his family to also let you live (which is a big deal for Johnny), means he did go to lengths not normal for him in order for this relationship to work.

#Cherry Writes 🍒#Johnny Slaughter #Johnny Slaughter x Reader #Johnny Slaughter x GN Reader

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kivino · 8 months

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MASTERLIST

Requests are open!! Make sure to read the rules for requests in my pinned post before requesting!!

Number of requests currently: 1

Message me if you want to be in the taglist!

Everything is (sort of) arranged in chronological order of posting. Once I have more works Character Masterlists will be available.

Personal favorites are in bold!

Created - 26.08.2023

Last updated - 01.12.2023

HEADCANONS

Fantasy AU with Valeria! - Fluff, SFW

Platonic!TF141 x Eastern European!Reader - Fluff, SFW

Roommate!John ‘Soap’ Mactavish x Reader - Fluff, SFW

FICS

Night time bonding || Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Gn!Reader - Fluff, SFW

Summary - You have a hard time falling asleep. Ghost has the same problem.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader smut drabble - NSFW

Summary - The title is pretty self-explanatory.

Hush || Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Gn!Reader - Slight angst, fluff, SFW (requested)

Summary - Different situations where reader and Ghost hug because he’s too afraid to say “i love you” at the moment, but both of you know what his hugs mean.

Take us back || Zombie AU || Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x Gn!Reader - Angst, gore, mcd

Summary – The new world was rotten, and you rotted away with it.

Every time, I fall for you || Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x Gn!Reader - Fluff, suggestive

Summary - Kyle fell for you hard, but he doesn’t know if it’s mutual.

Double vision || John ‘Bravo 0-6’ Price x Paramedic!Gn!Reader (requested) - Fluff, SFW

Summary - John gets into a car crash on his leave and meets you - a cute paramedic who instantly attracts his attention.

I don't care what's in your hair || Roommate!John 'Soap' Mactavish x Gn!Reader - SFW, Fluff, Teasing, Friendly banter

Summary – Your roommate Johnny comes back after his deployment and his hair looks like it needs a little trimming.

Big guy || Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Gn!Reader - SFW, fluff

Summary – Ghost takes a liking to the nickname you give him, but struggles to understand just how much he likes it.

Closer || Slasher!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x M!Reader - Dark themes, kidnapping, dead dove do not eat (requested)

Summary - You hear various dark rumors from your colleagues and you don’t believe them, until there is one particular ghost looking you right in the eye.

SERIES

Out of the shadows || Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Shadow!Gn!Reader - Slight angst, action, SFW

Summary – After the betrayal of Task Force 141 and the slaughter of civilians in Las Almas you decide to leave Shadow Company on the spot, which works out sideways, leaving you with simmering hate towards the man whom you used to look up to and new interesting figures in your life.

First step. - Where you cut ties with Shadows.

Second step. - WIP

Third step. - WIP

RANDOM THOUGHTS

Price, who’s down bad for his spouse

What if there was a cure to the zombie virus? (“Take us back” fic related)

Slasher!Ghost

WIPS (this is getting a little out of control now)

Lost and found || Zombie AU || Platonic!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Child!Gn!Reader - SFW, Hurt/Comfort, Found family, Parenting

Out of the Shadows || Second step || Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Former Shadow!Gn!Reader - SFW, Slight Angst, Revenge themes, Violence

Out of the Shadows || Third step || Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Former Shadow!Gn!Reader - SFW, Slight Angst, Revenge themes, Violence

Angel of small death || First verse || Priest!Phillip ‘Shadow 0-1’ Graves x Gn!Reader - SFW (for now), religious inaccuracies, idk anything about american catholics i'm eastern european and i will use it as an excuse /j

Whatever it takes || Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Gn!Reader - Angst, SFW

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urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites · 1 month

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Masterlist:

The Outsiders:

(Some of these include Shepards but I forgot the label)

The Gang x goth s/o

The Gang x Mean Girl s/o

The Gang Hugging Headcanons!

Johnny Cade Dating Headcanons!

The Gang x s/o who flinches in a fight

The Gang x smalltime Movie Star! M! Greaser PT 1

Johnny x Hot!F! Greaser + Gang Reactions!

Johnny x Two Bit x Dally (PLATIONIC) Headcanons!

The Gang walking in on you changing!

Johnny can sing x Gang Reaction

The Gang x m! Mute Greaser friendship Headcanons

The Gang x Scary! M! Greaser

The Gang x Rich Soc! GN! Reader

The Gang x modern AU!

The Gang x F! Greaser Crush Headcanons

Steve Randle Headcanons!

Autistic F! Reader x The Gang

Gang Cuddling Headcanons!

Teasing! Hot! M! Greaser x The Gang

Scary! Hot! Teasing M! Greaser x The Gang

Young Ponyboy x Two Bit Fluff!

Sodapop, Two Bit, and Steve School Headcanons

Pretty, haunted, scared looking F! Greaser x Gang

Innocent M! Greaser making unintentional dirty jokes x The Gang

The Gang x F! Scene reader

The Gang x F! Hyperfem reader

The Gang x Hogwarts Houses!

The Gang x Protective! M! Greaser going crazy in a rumble when they get hurt

The Gang x Dark! F! Seductive! Reader

The Gang x Androgynous!GN! S/o

The Gang x GN/F! Waitress s/o

Movie Star M! Greaser gets killed in a movie x Gang Reacts!

Nice! F! Greaser with RBF x The Gang

NSFW M! Reader Headcanons x The Gang

NSFW F! Reader Headcanons x The Gang

M! Greaser gives princess treatment to the Gang Headcanons!

The Gang x baker/cook! s/o!

The Gang x Reader who reads out loud very goofily

The Gang x Great storyteller Reader

The Gang x s/o! In a band!

Short but deadly! M! Greaser x The Gang

Tall! Whimpy! Polite! M! Soc x The Gang

Yandere!F! S/o x The Gang

Chaotic!M! Greaser x The Gang

Insecure about braces! M! Greaser x The Gang

Stupid Damn Feelings: A Dallas Winston x FtM!Curtis Reader smut

The Gang x Masc!Butch!Genderqueer! Tough buzzcut F! Greaser

Gang Reacts to Pony with M!Conservative!Down Bad! Soc

The Gang x F! Tough lookin! But Soft! Crochet! Reader

The outsiders characters as things me and my friends have said

The Outsiders Incorrect quotes

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre:

Nubbins Sawyer with sick s/o

Nubbins Sawyer x Bimbo/Himbo s/o

Nubbins Sawyer x Insecure!F! Reader

The Sawyers/Slaughters walking in on you changing

Nubbins Sawyer General Headcanons!

Johnny Slaughter General Headcanons!

Sissy Slaughter General Headcanons

Comfort! S/o with shitty abandoned friends

Scream 1

Comfort! S/o with shitty abandoned friends

Slashers in General

Slashers with s/o on period!! Ft. Micheal Myers + Stu/Billy and the Sawyers

DCU

What the Batfam eats for Breakfast

#the outsiders #urlocalnonbinarybastardwritesanswers #the texas chainsaw massacre #masterlist #scream 1 #dcu headcanons #dcu #dc comics #dc

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adaptacy · 9 months

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sissys best friend crushing and falling for johnny 🙏🙏

Johnny Slaughter x GN!Reader

"So, what, he ain't got a girlfriend?" You murmured, glancing back at the subject of conversation, your hands idly fidgeting with the stems of wildflowers in your palms. He was skinning the prey he'd gotten from his traps, maybe a good six yards away, his torso bare and practically glimmering in the sun from the sweat he'd racked up. How were you not supposed to stare?

"Oh, sugar, he don't date. He hunts! It's different," the girl next to you spoke, giggling at your question as if there were anything amusing about it. You frowned, and she tapped your shoulder, regaining your attention with a turn of your head. She held up a ring of woven stems, a neat flower crown. You looked down at your own attempt, but you weren't as good at it as she was.

"Well, yeah, I know he kills most of the people he stumbles upon, but... Surely he's interested in the idea of a relationship, right?" You asked, lowering your head so the brunette could place the crown on top of it.

"He's doin' just fine on his own. I think he'd go romancin' 'imself if he could. He don't need anyone else, or so he likes to say," she replied, taking the flower crown from your hands and gingerly repairing some of the loosely woven bits. You took the opportunity to look back at Johnny, catching him as he ran his arm across his forehead, wiping the sweat off of it.

Ugh, he was practically perfect. Sculpted by the gods themselves. You'd never seen anyone half as attractive as him. Sometimes you doubted he was a real person.

"Why, you gettin' ideas?" She teased, nudging you again as she caught you staring at her brother. You looked back at her, giving a small shrug.

"No, nothing like that. Just curious," you lied, avoiding any eye contact with her as you mumbled your response. "Figured everyone gets lonely sometimes. Thought he was the same."

"Awh, peach, he ain't like you and I. He's, uh..." She paused, pursing her lips as she thought of a response. "He's a real wildfire, y'know? Got the whole lone wolf thing goin' on. He don't wanna look silly by needin' someone else. Don't wanna look weak or nuthin' of the sort."

"Huh..." You hummed, looking over your shoulder one last time before Johnny tossed the skinned rabbits into a pail and left your line of sight, likely heading inside. With that, you looked back at your best friend, seeing she was already gathering more flowers, insistent on teaching you how to get the most use out of the weed-like growths.

-- -- --

The person who opened the door was not who you were expecting. Tall, muscular, masculine... Definitely not the girl you'd come here for. She knew you were coming, did she forget? This was her idea, after all.

Johnny looked you up and down, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What?"

"Is sissy here?"

"She's out back."

"Oh, okay. Can I-"

"No."

You blinked, not sure why he'd deny you so adamantly, and so quickly, too. With a glance behind him, you swore you saw movement, but it was gone before you could be sure. You looked back at him, confused. "Why not?"

"She's busy."

"Okay... can you go n' get her for me? Or let her know that I'm here? She's supposed to be teaching me somethin'," you requested, biting your lip awkwardly.

"Weren't you here yesterday?" He grimaced.

"Yes..."

"Why?"

"Why what?" You scoffed.

"Why are you here all the time? Ain't you got other stuff to do?" He pushed, stepping towards you and forcing you to take a step back so he didn't collide with you. He closed the door behind him, and you frowned, not understanding what his game was.

"Uhm, I'm here cause she's my best friend. And... cause she asks to see me. I already did all my stuff," you answered, furrowing your brows at him. "What's your problem?"

"My problem? My problem's that we got prey hangin' round our house but we ain't allowed to eat 'em. The hell makes you so special?" He huffed, and you took another step back, a little intimidated by his poorly shielded threats.

"Because..." You trailed off, searching for an answer. "Cause she said so, I guess. I dunno. Don't you have enough prey as it is? Got all the time in the world to hunt, mister lone wolf."

"The hell's that s'posed to mean? You gettin' snappy with me?" He growled, placing a hand on the wooden post beside you and leaning down, closer to your face. You scowled, doing your best not to show your fear.

"Since you don't have any hobbies aside from killing people."

"Hobbies?"

"Dates. Partners. I dunno, literally anything aside from hunting," you explained, giving a small shrug of your shoulders.

"What are you gettin' at?"

"I don't know, what are you getting at?"

"I don't see any reason why I shouldn't kill you right 'ere. Seem like a fine tasty meal. Just temptin' me, comin'round here all the time. Ain't you scared?"

Yeah. "Of you?" You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Oh, please. Sissy would never let me-"

Your words came to an abrupt stop when you felt a knife against your throat, and Johnny grinned down at you, reveling in your fear. "You sure 'bout that? I don't see her 'round here. Ain't no-one to save you."

Despite your racing heart, you gulped, steadying your breaths. "You're not gonna kill me. You're just trying to scare me."

He seemed to tense at that, and for a second you actually failed to believe your words, hit by the realization that he probably didn't care. He could kill you. Hell, he might as well. And yet, he removed the blade, smirking as he huffed out a chuckle.

"That's not funny."

"Awh, I know it ain't, doll. Not fer you, anyhow. Name's Johnny. Sissy's said a lot 'bout ya," he introduced, though you already knew his name. He held out a hand, and you looked down at it, awkwardly reaching forward to take it, and giving it a small shake.

"Uh-huh... Can I see her now?"

"Mm.. I s'pose. You can go 'round the side yard. She's out in the sunflowers," he answered, using a thumb to point in the direction of the path he was referencing.

"Right.. Thanks, Johnny."

Huh. Bit of a creep, eh? A handsome one, but... She wasn't lyin' when she said he wasn't normal.

#tcm game #tcm #johnny slaughter #texas chainsaw massacre #johnny tcm #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter headcanons #johnny slaughter tcm #adapting to johnny slaughter

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creepling · 2 months

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hii idk if you’re comfortable but could i request just any headcanons of stockholm syndrome johnny slaughter x fem!reader? would he ever come around to being “gentle” after corrupting the reader of a relationship? would he ever let the reader see her family? just give me any details you brainstorm 🫣

this became more of a drabble but it encapsulates everything i'd except from johnny with a captive with stockholm syndrome. he'll be overthinking, he'll be insecure, and he'll take it out on you. then act all boyfriend material so you don't question it. he's such a joy to be around lmaooo

tags: can be read as gn. stockholm syndrome, knife as threat, near death experience, abusive relationship

Johnny’s tactics proved to be worthwhile the more you eased yourself into the role of a captive, viewing your surroundings as a home since you had no escape to go to your own. It surprises him how quickly you succumbed to it, offering to take up chores. He was suspicious of you at first until he let you out in the junkyard to gather scraps. The cattle grid off, the gate open, you had every chance of escape. Your footing stayed planted on the soil, bare feet in the dry dirt, humming a tune as the sun beat down on you. You acted as if you were at home, taking your time, comfortable in your surroundings. You were the first of its kind in Johnny’s eyes.

Sometimes he caught you gazing at the pressure gate. Looking beyond the road to the horizon, deep in thought. Johnny would keep his eye on you, his hands busy with the car he was fixing up. Then you would sigh and look away, getting back to work. Johnny needed answers, he had to know what you were thinking. A dream, an opportunity? Are you kidding him?

“You ever thought about running away?” He would ask. You never gave a direct answer, your words were always like “I like it here”, “I have everything I need”

It did not calm his nerves. You can’t leave, you can’t defeat him. You cannot be convinced of anything except your devotion to him, otherwise all his work has gone to waste. He had to test you again, break any thought that crossed your mind.

He ambushed you in the quiet of the night, snuffling your screams with his hand, and pressing his knife to your neck. You only screamed once, resting when you saw Johnny, calm under his knife as you gazed into his eyes.

“If you ever think about leaving,” Johnny warned, “Goddammit- I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you.” His words were insecure, his vowels broken. Masking his frustration with fury.

He shifted his hand to grip your hair, giving you a chance to speak. Your docile face gazing up at him, forcing a smile to appeal to him.

“I love you, Johnny… I do, I really do,” your calm words failed as he tensed his shoulders, pressing the knife closer to you. “But… I have a family. They’ll be worried sick about me. At least let me write to them, I’ll tell them that I found you, and I’m happy here. Please…” You weren’t necessarily lying, but there was still an inkling of what life was like before. Your whole life was ahead of you, letting you navigate the paths of life. You went down this one, longing for the possibilities there were before. You refused to admit defeat, mustering a fond smile.

It seemed like Johnny was thinking about it, but he was only steadying his knife, debating on slitting your throat. The spill of your blood flashed before his eyes before he made the split decision to replace the knife with his hand, closing your airflow.

“You have a family,” Johnny spat, “We’re your goddamn family. Got it?”

You nodded to the best of your ability, gripping his wrists, calling surrender. He lets go, scoffing at your pathetic coughs for air.

“You’re smart, so I suggest you start thinking smart thoughts,” Johnny’s remark was worse than his knife. You turned on your side, burying your face into the pillow to get back to sleep. Your eyes are wide open, tense under Johnny’s arms wrapped around you. He kisses your temple, soothing your head, as if nothing happened.

#johnny slaughter x reader #tcm game #johnny slaughter #texas chainsaw massacre #drabble #request #anon #cw abuse #cw knife #cw stockholm syndrome

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chiffon-and-spice · 2 months

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(18+ MINORS DNI) He's A Violent Man, and His Heart's Decayed

Fic Inspo: April to Death

Johnny Slaughter/Sawyer x GN!Reader (18+)

A/N: I just want to say I do not condone this kind of relationship in any way, nor am I trying to glamorize abuse. This is just my take on how being in a relationship with Johnny would be. Fiction and reality are two very different things, and there will be triggering topics discussed in this fic. If you don’t like violence, this is definitely not the fic for you.

Abuse Helpline: 800-799-7233 (if a phone call is unsafe here’s a safe website you can visit, you’re not alone and there are always other options.)

Concept: You’ve walked down this road with Johnny so many times before, your feet have grown numb. At this point it’s hard to tell who’s crazier.

TW: Abuse, violence, self-deprecation, mutual abuse, smoking, blood

Content: Anal, rough sex, blood drinking? (idk if this should be a trigger warning or content…), voyeurism, masturbation, dom!Johnny, sub!reader

A man beyond saving. So tormented, trained like a dog on a leash, he is unable to do anything differently than what he's taught. Despite all the pain, the anguish, the anger, Nancy is the only family he's ever known. The only family he'd ever get. Johnny had been given a shit hand, and these were the cards he had to play. And another, with so little regard for their own self-worth, seemed unable to care about being saved from him.

You made your way up the familiar driveway, as you have done many times before. It was late, the moon barely a sliver in the sky, hiding behind a blanket of dark clouds. It didn’t matter how little you could see though, you knew this path like the back of your hand. Every little loose pebble, soft patch, and hidden crack or ladder.

The outside of Nancy’s may look warm, inviting, with white picket fences and brightly colored flowers dancing almost peacefully through the wind. But you knew better. You knew about the horrors that lurked within those doors. You hadn't come here about that though. As long as you didn't bother the family, the family didn't bother you.

Perhaps that made you just as bad as them, just as wrong and twisted. Any sane person would stay away, be terrified for their life. Ask for help for the many victims that had stumbled through. Then again, it was hard to be scared for something you had little regard for. What’s a little bit of murder?

The driveway and path were covered in a deep blue hue. The night air was somewhat chilly, though you seemed unbothered by the cold. Even without a jacket, no temperature could compete with the coldness Johnny handled you with. That was a chill you felt in your bones, that nestled into your chest and pricked at your heart like a thorn that couldn’t be shaken loose.

So why were you making your way back? Every step made your feet feel heavy with lead, though a part of you also felt as if you were burning holes in the ground.

You were in one of those angry moods, the scary ones where you were eerily calm. Every step is slow, quiet, across the gravel coated road. Calculated. You couldn’t recall if this walk was something you had done before or something you’d picked up from Johnny.

Your gaze drifted up to the top window of Nancy’s house, studying where her room would be. The curtains, like usual, were closed shut. It was fairly late, and you hoped that meant she’d be fast asleep. She’d never been too fond of you seeing her Johnny. Part of you wondered if the only thing keeping her from murdering you was knowing you were just as capable of doing the same to her. She didn’t have the same control over you as she did Johnny.

There was a part of you that felt almost… confident approaching Johnny's beat down shack. You had no weapons, no items but the clothes on your back, and yet there wasn’t much concern. No fear, as you raised your fist, pounding on the old shack door.

There was a familiarity in the action, almost like you’d done it a million times before. Even with a door in your way, you could smell the place almost as if you were standing inside. Part of you had always wondered if you’d ever get used to it. It was unsettling that you didn’t even have a reaction anymore. It wasn’t even the blood that bothered you, that was nothing unfamiliar. It was the grime, the dust, the mold that all turned your stomach. The maggots that no doubt crawled around within its confines.

You knew Johnny heard you, after a noise erupted inside. A few crunching cans on the other side and the low sound of rustling. Like someone was trying to let their presence be known, that they were intentionally ignoring whoever was outside.

"Alright Johnny, come on out now, I ain't gonna be waitin’ out here forever!" you called out, your voice scarily calm.

Too many thoughts raced through your mind. Your foot impatiently tapped on the old rotted floorboards, arms crossed, while you stared narrowly at the door. The only sound you heard at first was the faint chirp of the crickets outside.

It was pitch black, hard to see, though you knew the door had opened by the sound of it scraping across the floor. A familiar head slowly started to peak out, his dark eyes protruding from the doorway. There’s something unsettling about his smile, how his eyes scan over you, after he leans against the door frame.

He had looked at you like that so many times before, like he’d somehow just won some game. Or was reading you, studying which parts of your body would result in those screams he’d been so fond of. His stance is tall, his eyes cold, while he leans against the door.

The man smelled of cigarette smoke, sweat, and… something else you didn’t quite wish to discern. You wanted to scrunch your nose up, pretend the smell disgusted you as it should. Instead however it had an allure, something that drew you in. Probably because that smell was unique to Johnny.

Like always the man was calculated, precise with his wording. His hands, which usually contained thick leather gloves, were bare, a cheap cigarette poking between the fingers of the hand that currently rested on the frame above his head. He laughed a little upon recognizing you, an almost wolfish glint in his eyes. The man was alert, like he’d been anticipating your arrival. Of course he had.

You couldn’t help but study his other hand, which was wrapped tightly with white gauze. You remembered the blood, how it slowly poured down when you’d shoved your knife through his hand. The force he knocked you over with in response. It was a vicious cycle that should have told you both to back off.

With how much you already knew about Johnny’s tactics, there was no need to draw you in. No need for him to practice his usual charm. Instead, he simply took a puff from the cigarette, blowing the cloud not too far from your face.

“You’re back early. Did you not get enough?”

Johnny’s tone was casual, carefree as if this was just another conversation. Anyone listening in might hear his words and assume he was talking about his body. You knew what he was referring to though, not forgetting the faint bruises he’d marked your skin with. The fresh cuts that littered your body. You only scoffed. “You’re calm for someone who ended up with a knife in their hand last time I showed up…” you replied just as casually.

It was hard to believe that had only been a week ago. Then again, so many of your fights blended and blurred together. The black eye back in May, the broken ribs from June, the list could go on. In between you’d always managed to get a few good hits in yourself. No one had brought out that fire in you like he did.

The dark haired man took another drag from his cigarette, lips dried and thin, as his eyes darkened. Johnny stepped outside, a little closer, and perhaps in the past you’d have cowered away. Flinched. Winced at the anticipation. However this time, you simply stood, studying his fiery glare, almost daring him to come at you again. Not many walked away after a fight with Johnny, you were aware of this. You seemed to do it almost effortlessly though.

The man was tall, could easily overpower you, which he had done quite a few times. You could never bring yourself to be entirely scared of him though. Not when Johnny treated you differently. Not after the many times he’d let you walk away.

What unsettles you the most however, is the way his lips curve into a thin smile upon processing your words. He blows out a bit more smoke, dropping the cigarette carelessly on the wood and stomping it out. Despite it being so late, Johnny still wore one of his old tank tops, covered in whatever work he’d done that day. It’s too dark to tell if it’s sweat or blood.

He made his way towards you, and the closer he got the more you could smell it on him. You didn’t cower though, only meeting his gaze with the same intensity. Perhaps this is why he was so drawn to you. Why he could never bring himself to finish you off. There’s an air of intrigue, confusion, in someone that isn’t scared of the dark things you do the way they should be.

Johnny’s warm, exceptionally warm, and he raises his hand. You’re unsure whether to expect a smack or a caress. Both would be unsettling. You suppress a shiver, as he does the later, large fingers carefully running through your hair. You’d half expected him to be angry at you, but he’s just smiling.

It should be comforting, warm. The kind of smile that would bring joy to your partner, while his fingers twist and slip through your hair. It’s the exact opposite of comforting though, almost too perfect of a smile.

Johnny gently buries his nose in your hair, inhaling sharply. A normally tender gesture from most partners, but not from Johnny.

“I’m sorry…” his voice is soft, a faint whisper, and it jumpstarts your heart every time.

The words are gentle, stirring feelings inside of your chest you’d rather not think about. Your body melts and you feel warm in his arms. There’s also that tug though, that deep pain, that thorn shifting in your chest, because you know Johnny. Know him more than you’d care to admit.

You merely shake your head gently in response, pressing your forehead into his chest. There’s a tiredness in your stance, and you don’t know whether you hurt more for yourself or the man in front of you.

“I know you’re not… even if you want to be, you’re not. You’re incapable of feeling sympathy.”

There was a bleak and tired look in your eyes as you spoke, staring at the ground. A hollow apology, that’s all it was. All you’d ever received. Maybe once, you had believed those words, tasted them on his tongue, when you’d rush in after with a feral kiss. Could feel it in the sheets, quick to forgive every rugged apology. But after the first four times, it began to ring empty. You weren’t even sure why Johnny still said it anymore.

It certainly wasn’t to make himself feel better, he was incapable of feeling guilty of anything he did. Johnny could be so hard to understand at points.

You wished the man you’d met back in that bar all those months ago truly existed. The charming and charismatic guy who had pulled a chair out for you, offered to buy you a drink. Flashed you that tender smile, as he shared his sob story about being a poor farmer boy whose mother had been murdered. About having to support his family, often finding the bar to be the one place he could wind down. How he hadn’t recalled seeing a pretty thing like you ever in his life.

Johnny had been so kind those first few hours, managing to convince you to come home with him. He wasn’t quite aware of just who he was messing with however. It took about six minutes before you’d pulled a gun out on him and shot him in his arm. You could still see the scar now.

Johnny thought he could pull a fast one on you, had pulled out a knife and talked about carving your bones out of your pretty little flesh. That was his mistake, so caught up in talk, in the soft seduction of it all.

To his surprise though, you had come back, apologizing for the gunshot wound. Which then turned into the tidal wave that grew as your relationship. Johnny didn’t do labels, no, and you were lucky that you had even been allowed to come back. You knew you weren’t his lover or anything. Just thinking the word felt weird. It was more or less about ownership.

Even if he did love you, it was in his own fucked up way, and he’d never see you as an equal. He’d made that pretty evident. Though there was something there, something that made Johnny look at you differently than his other victims. Perhaps it was the only form of love he knew, maybe part of him wanted to feel bad for the things he did, even if he was incapable of doing so. Maybe Johnny wanted to care, but couldn’t figure out how.

Not that you were all that innocent either. Johnny wasn’t exactly your first rodeo of dealing with a guy like this. The cannibalistic thing was new for sure, but not the violence, and the yelling, and the inner destruction. Something about relationships like these got your heart jumping. You craved it.

Probably because there was an allure to having something so dark and evil, so sadistic, treat you special. Not that it made you feel special in a good way, but Johnny did treat you differently..

Johnny stood, tall and quiet for a moment, his hand dropping from your hair. His arms didn’t embrace you, as you pressed against him. He was like a statue, body warm, his chest not even moving. Part of you wondered if he was even breathing.

“You’re the one that keeps coming back,” Johnny replied quietly, shoving you away from him.

You half expected him to just lose it and pull out his knife. Twist it in your stomach and laugh about the whole ordeal. Staining your hands with red, as you try to push the blood back in. Kill you like he’d killed all the others. You weren’t sure why he didn’t try harder to kill you. No matter how intense the fighting got, Johnny always let you go.

“You’re the one that always lets me walk away.”

Johnny moved closer to you now, pinning you against the door. He had pulled out his knife in one swift motion, holding it under your chin. His eyes looked darker than usual, a snarl slipping from his lips. The movements are a reminder of just what he is.

“Exactly that, I let you walk away. You only still live cause I allow it. What the hell are you even doing here anyway? Thought I told you last time I didn’t want to see your fucking face again.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning into the knife a little, staring down at him through narrowed eyes.

“And I told you, you don’t make decisions for me Johnny. I’m not going to be controlled like one of your little victims.”

You both knew deep down it was practically impossible to keep apart. Even if you wanted to avoid Johnny, the man would hunt you down. Conveniently show up to a bar you lingered at or a store you were visiting. The worst reactions were the ones where you were with another man.

No matter how bad things got, you could never truly get away and neither could he. There was a sick twisted part deep down that both of you wanted this, craved it. Maybe even needed it.

Johnny presses the knife a little tighter against your neck, and you’re wondering why he hasn’t cut you yet. And for a moment you see a flash in his eyes, it’s faint, but it’s there. It’s that look that reminds you every time why you can never leave. As quickly as that sad look appears it’s gone, knife dropping, as he gives you a rough shove, moving you out of the doorway so he can open it.

Johnny doesn’t slam the door shut, his way of telling you to come in. You recover a little, barely even feeling how his arms had knocked into you, as you stumbled into the beaten down little building. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust in the darkness.

Like always, the smell is the first thing anyone notices. You can’t help but scrunch your nose up a little, wanting to cough and choke. It lingers in the back of your throat, stinging in your eyes. There’s several dirty dishes littering the counters and sink, the beer cans on the ground, his table filled with god only knows what, and his couch looked well worn, like someone had been laying down in it most of the day.

Still though, it’s more a discomfort thing than something that puts you on edge. You don’t wander around like a scared dog, judgment lingering in your eyes.

Johnny casually kicks his way through a few of the cans, swinging his fridge open. The inside of the fridge matches the room fairly well, a few flies buzzing around inside, as he reaches his hand in and grabs a can.

The environment is nothing new to you, and you slowly close the door, fully stepping inside. Johnny barely acknowledges your presence at first, throwing himself on the couch, and cracking his drink open. There’s no thought in his eyes, as he sits there, almost as if he’s alone, looking a million miles away.

Not uncommon for the dark haired man. The number of times Johnny’d just sit there, as if he was waiting for something.

You frowned softly, sitting on the couch. You knew if your voice had even an ounce of sympathy it’d be enough to set the man off. Johnny didn’t want to be coddled. He “didn’t need your goddamn sympathy,” you recalled him saying, after he had spent one night bleakly talking about how he had gained his face scar.

Johnny had been drunk, he usually was when he talked about stuff like that, and there was always a coldness to his voice. So casual as he spoke. Perhaps because this was his day to day life.

“Why?” Johnny finally said, his voice unreadable.

You stare for a minute, confused, as he remains staring ahead of you. At first you’re not even sure he’s talking about you, until he does turn. Johnny’s dark eyes are studying you, as if you’re the fucked up one here.

“Why?” you repeat, as if saying his question will make it make more sense.

There’s a hundred things he could be talking about and you wonder if it’s in reference to Nancy, his life, your life, or just a question he doesn’t understand.

Johnny rolled his eyes, throwing the still pretty full can across the room. It hit the wall with a low thud, the amber liquid splattering all over the floor. Like your confusion was so unreasonable. His voice is low, now snarling.

“Why do you keep coming back?”

The man is on you in a matter of seconds, his hands firmly placed on your shoulders, squeezing, as he pushes you back into the couch. Johnny’s towering on top of you, and he’s looking down at you like there’s something he’s missed. Some part of you he hasn’t observed, that’ll magically make it all make sense to him.

Johnny was usually good at reading people, understanding what made them tick, what to do to see that fear in their eyes. He never saw that with you though. It drove him crazy how you were just as unpredictable as he was. Johnny couldn’t make you scared like the others. “I could so easily kill you…” he continued, voice going quieter, while his hands moved from your shoulders to your neck. “Could just squeeze… apply the right pressure until your face goes blue.”

Johnny’s hands wrap around you, tightening their grip, but despite the aggression there’s an almost carefulness in how he handles you. A desperation, as he squeezes, just enough to cause pain. His eyes are piercing your own, almost looking, begging for a certain reaction, while you remain limp beneath him.

Johnny groans, pressing you deeper into the couch, as his eyes narrow.

“And you don’t even bat a fucking eye.”

While looking up at him, the determination in his face, the roughness in his grasp, it’s easy to see a monster. To think about what he’s capable of, the dangerous person he is. You can’t see that in Johnny though. His hands around your neck, his eyes hiding layers and years of pain, while he rests on top of you. All you can see is a broken man. The way he squeezed your neck, careful enough to not kill, told you he wasn’t all monster. There was something gentle in Johnny. Well, in his sense of the word.

You know better than to try and fix him, not that he’d even want it. Not that you’d ever be able to. Instead you reached out, tenderly caressing the scars on his arm. As if your fingers could mend all the broken cracks within him.

And he breaks… he softens his grip, shaking his head and flipping you on your stomach. Johnny’s hands aggressively grab your own, holding them behind your back, his voice quiet, as he whispers in your ear. His breath is hot and makes your whole world seem to freeze while he speaks.

This was how he handled things when they got too intimate… too personal.

“Is this what you came here for?”

His voice sends chills down your spine, as you hear the soft clink of his belt. It didn’t matter what your intentions were, this was how things always ended up. And you hated how much of a rush it gave you. Your whole body quivering, as you felt the leather tighten around your wrists.

Johnny’s heavy, his hands tracing along the curves of your body, voice still right on your ear, as he lets out a dark chuckle.

“That why you keep coming back? You can’t live without the feel of my hands pulling and grabbing at your body. Can’t get enough of the way my teeth dig into your flesh, while I claim every inch of you. Make you feel every inch of me.”

Johnny loved stroking his ego, but mostly he loved when you did it for him. The way your body was flush beneath his, as you nodded slowly, face still buried into the couch cushions.

You couldn’t even focus on his words anymore, too wrapped up in the anticipation of him. How your skin already craved his touch, while he squeezed at your hips, pulling them back. His mouth had moved off your ear, biting roughly down the side of your neck.

“Not so mouthy now are ya?” Johnny growled against your skin, hands slipping underneath your shirt. “That’s okay… I know how to make you talk.”

His hands are uncomfortably hot, rough, and calloused, as he plays with your body. Squeezing your hips firmly, moving along your sides. He reaches your chest, thumb brushing along your nipples. Johnny knows all your sensitive spots, which parts hurt the most, as he explores you. Mapping out your body with his hands.

Those same hands he’d used to kill people. There was a precise way in how he explored your body, knowing which ways to take you off guard.

You let out a low moan, sensitive to his touch. Johnny’s hands are hungry, body heavy, as he presses on top of you, continuing to move his mouth aggressively along your neck. It’s evident he cares little about not hurting you, biting harsh enough to pierce the skin. The spot feels a little wet and it’s hard to tell where or how much blood is on your neck due to the wetness of his lips.

Johnny’s warm tongue pokes out, caressing the flesh and cooling your new wound. His mouth is hot and a cloud of ecstasy is choking your brain. You can’t think straight, only whining slightly from the sensation. The noise seems to please the man, as he lets out a dark chuckle, hands moving to the front of your own pants.

“Almost got a word out of you…”

And this… this is why you can’t ever go away. Why you could never wish to be with anyone else. One fuck with Johnny, and he’d shown you things that no normal man… no normal person ever would. No sane person would be excited by it. Would be driven to the edge of this madness, pulling apart at the seams in a darker kind of pleasure. And if enjoying it meant you were just as fucked up then so be it.

You could feel your own arousal pooling hot in your stomach, between your legs, heat spanning all throughout your flesh. Johnny’s shack being cramped with no ventilation didn’t help either. You could feel sweat already starting to form along your forehead and back. His bite made you moan tiredly, hands pulling on your restraints a little.

It was impossible to sit still with the way he nipped and tugged at your body. Johnny didn’t have a gentle bone in his body. No warning before anything he did.

Maybe that was why sex with him was euphoric, different from the way anyone had ever treated you. It wasn’t just the degrading… the roughness, it was something darker. Something that turned your stomach in the sweetest of ways. Something he’d already told you. The thrill of putting your life in his hands, knowing he could kill you anytime if he wished. Of not knowing how he was going to end this.

Johnny’s grip is harsh, pulling your pants down with little to no care, fingers brushing between the fabric and your skin. A tight squeeze that sends chills throughout your body. His voice is little more than quiet excited breaths.

The man’s mouth moved off the small wound he’d made in your neck, trailing down your spine. The bites were still harsh, though you didn’t think he drew blood. Johnny was so unpredictable, you could never tell what he was thinking. What his intentions were. You could only close your eyes, quivering and getting lost in the sensation. His hands continued to hold your hips, rough and no doubt forming bruises.

There’s a familiarity in his touch. In the way his hot breath slides down your back, covering it in saliva. Every low grunt he makes sends your skin crawling. Bumps form along your forearms, the back of your neck, down your spine. Any and everywhere you had felt Johny before tingling in anticipation.

Killing and fucking were an art to Johnny. A practice he believed needed time dedicated to it. Time to do things right. Not in the romantic sense. He wasn’t trying to make you comfortable. There was no checking in. It wasn’t about appreciating the act itself. It was about the thrill, the build up and anticipation of it all. The stalking before the blade bites into his victim’s skin.

Johnny let out another rough snarl, teeth sinking into your lower hip. They’re sharp, rough, puncturing the skin once more, as you let out another low whine. Your body reacts before you can, quivering and trying to pull away.

“Quit fuckin’ squirmin'’,” Johnny snaps, pushing your head down into the cushions once more.

It’s softer than Johnny, and truth be told probably smelled a little nicer. Though that wasn’t entirely a big achievement. You tried to remain still, as his lips continued to suck on the sore patch of skin. You can’t see, but there’s a dark and sinister grin as he pulls away.

Your blood is running along his bottom lip, dark against his pale skin. The indentation of his teeth against your flesh, still warm, lingers like a ghost. It’s a faint buzz that makes you feel euphoric and it’s hot and cold all at once. Mind melted, twisted, as you heard the sound of his own belt being undone. Your stomach tightens in excitement, turning in the cushions to glance behind you.

Johnny isn’t focused on looking at you, there’s no care, as he eagerly fiddles with his jeans. He's careless even with himself. The man’s dark hair is a mess, falling loosely over his eyes. When you can’t see them, he has the face of an angel.

Soft cheekbones, pale and perfectly sculpted, a stark contrast to his sharp jawline. Johnny is beautiful. There’s no denying that. Like a snake. Scales slick, patterns captivating to the eye. You can’t help but want to reach out, touch it. One tender caress. Fingers slipping along his scales gently, tracing along the patterns as if you can understand just what they mean.

That’s all it takes, before the snake hisses, lunging forward. Teeth sink into your neck once more, pressing that venom into your skin. You can’t help but whine, feeling his hands pull on your hips.

It’s painful at first, like something’s tearing through you, hands quivering in your restraints. Not that he cared. Johnny continued to fuck into you aggressively, hips rolling into your backside. His breath lingers on your neck like a bad scent, and you can feel the smile in his teeth imprints.

“Quit being such a little bitch.”

His hands are so tightly on your hips, you’re certain it’ll leave a bruise. You don’t care though. All you can focus on is how that pain rips into pleasure. How Johnny feels making you take every inch of him. His animalistic grunts, while he throbs against you. There’s such a force in his movements that results in your whole body lurching forward.

Johnny’s noises are low, like he’s trying to keep himself quiet, as he moans to himself. Like he can’t contain the pleasure, as he needily bucks into you. Your hips match his every movement, his hands guiding them to do as he pleases.

You know you’re in his control, and you want to hate it. His touch should feel dirty, his teeth rotten, but you can’t. You don’t.

You can’t hate the hot white pleasure that’s coursing through your brains. How every little grunt rushes blood between your legs. How when Johnny fucks you it makes you whimper like a bitch tied up in the hot sun. There’s no doubt he knows what he’s doing, how to please you.

“All that talk from before… talkin’ bout I don’t control you, you’re not one of my victims. Bullshit. You just roll over and take it while lying down. You like that though, don’tcha? You like that I own you?”

Johnny was doing things to you that made your mind fuzzy. You nodded softly at his statement. He could read you like a book. His fingers knowing all the right pages to bend. Spine worn out from the many times he'd opened you up. Devoured you whole, learning every letter of every word that was etched across her skin.

The man could crack your bones, tear your ribcage open, and feast on your organs and you’d still fade from life proclaiming you died at home. That you’d felt warmth in his touch, as his fingers clawed away at you. That his tongue only licked with the intent of bringing you pleasure. His teeth tore at your flesh, consuming you, because he wanted all of you. Johnny wanted to gorge on the darkest parts you locked away in the confinements of your mind.

Your body is quivering, squishing, beneath his much bigger weight. Johnny’s chest, hot against your back, as his hands glide up along your hips. They expand, fingers curving around your torso, as he pulls your body up.

Johnny’s large hands trace along the shape of your jaw, before grabbing it roughly, breath burning on the shell of your ear. The hand that isn’t grabbing your face is squeezing your waist, and Johnny’s ramming into you, deep and quick, as if it’s all that’s keeping him alive. His teeth clamp around your ear, another low growl slipping past his lips.

Then Johnny pulls his head away. There’s a lot on your face and you can’t tell if he’s become bored or impatient. The man turns you, until you’re facing him., a dark look in his eyes.

You can see a reflection of your own face, cheeks warm with arousal, eyes watering from tears pricking your eyes, and mouth slightly open to let out another low whine. Johnny hits that particularly sensitive spot in you, knowing just how hard to go.

Your body quivers all over in response, and you go lightheaded for a moment. His erratic movements, the way his hands moved along your body, and his teeth still marking your flesh. It’s all enough to make you feel like you’re about to pop like a cork bottle.

His thumb brushes along your bottom lip, prying your mouth open, as he groans. Johnny’s brows furrow a little, focusing, as he thrusts. His eyes close, and for a moment he almost looks pained. You can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking. What memory he’s distracting himself from now by burying his cock deep within the confines of you.

As quickly as it starts however, it’s gone, and Johnny’s face returns to that hard look, eyeing you down. Looking into his face while he fucked you was something that he’d rarely give you the pleasure.

You study him, as if you can read what’s going on in his mind. Like you can make sense of Johnny’s actions. He’s a lot more open tonight than most, and for a moment you can even see a glimpse of pleasure in his own eyes. Cheeks flushing a little, before Johnny exhales quietly.

“Quit fuckin’ lookin’ at me like that or I’m gonna turn ya back over,” Johnny snarls.

Your expression quickly drops, while he fucks the concern off your face. It’s all you can focus on, as he pumps into you. You glare at him once more, body squirming, as you try to speak around the pleasure.

“Like what? I was just thinking about how good you’d look with a bullet in the back of your head.”

Johnny aggressively juts his hips into you, fingers curling around your jaw, as he grabs it, forcing you to be eye level with him. You’re worried for a moment you’ve gone too far, but there’s a gleam in his eyes. He lets out one of those low chuckles, before kissing you.

His tongue worms into your mouth, teeth grazing your bottom lip, as he swallows every noise escaping your mouth. The taste of Johnny should make your skin crawl. His breath was awful, tainted with alcohol, blood, and whatever else he’d probably put in his mouth throughout the day. You can’t bring yourself to feel discomfort though. It’s like you’re seeing stars, his movements sending your body upwards, fingers curling tightly around the confines of your belt.

You want so desperately to drag your claws down his back. To mark Johnny the same way that he marked you. You whined a little at the thought, wiggling in your restraints. It’s all too much, and you feel so close. Your thighs quiver a little, unsure how much longer you can hold on.

Johnny smiles once again, pulling away. He can read your body, while his chest presses against you. Johnny’s movements slow, a dark smirk on his face.

You can never understand how he has such good control. How he doesn’t burst, no matter how intensely the sessions get. Johnny seems so pleased with himself, pulling all the way out, and gently teasing you. Dangling that sweet release ever so close.

“I’m not so sure if I want to finish you now…”

“I’ll finish myself,” you snarl back, half tempted to reach down and push him in you yourself.

Damn restraints.

Johnny’s eyes narrow in response, rolling his eyes. His body continues to tower over you, but he’s smiling. Grinning. Like he knows something you don’t. Johnny’s hand moves from your jaw to your neck, running his thumb along a scar there and smiling at the memory.

“I’d like to see you try,” Johnny chuckled darkly.

Then as if to further prove his point, Johnny removes his hands completely off his body, sitting back. He leans against the arm of the couch, his body sprawled out. You study him, watching as Johnny brings his hand to his cock, gently massaging it. His fingers slip along the underside of it, touching it with a sense of familiarity.

“Me though… I can finish myself just fine.”

His words on taunting, while he continues to squeeze, his large hands easily wrapping around his length. Johnny fucks into his fist like he’s done a million times before, leaning his head back and groaning softly.

“Johnny!”

You can’t hide the desperation in your voice. The frustration as your own body now remains untouched. There’s a fire coursing through your body, as you squirm once again on the couch. It didn’t help that watching the man play with himself made your insides tingle. There was something so hot… so tempting… in watching how he twitched in his hand. How Johnny’s cock responded to every little touch he did.

The man wasn’t sensitive by any means, but if you knew the right buttons to push. Johnny let out another low moan, still not paying you any mind.

“I’m almost there sweetheart.”

You chewed your bottom lip, frowning a little, as a low whimper escaped your lips once again.

“Please…”

Johnny smirks a little, his grip around himself loosening, as he opens one eye. Like he’d just won some sort of game. Then he lets go of himself, creeping back towards you.

“Please what?” Johnny asks softly, his voice low, as his hand moves down, fingers gently toying with you.

Part of you wants to laugh. Your comment about shooting him actually had gotten under his skin. Upset him. You knew Johnny well enough to know the thought of not needing him to get off pissed him off more than anything. He was desperate for that confirmation. It would’ve been cute, had Johnny not been a narcissistic cannibal.

“Please… I wanna cum,” you finally caved, staring up at him. “Need you to make me cum.”

Johnny doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even give a satisfactory smile, before slipping back into you. He’s quick, movements needy and desperate, while he grinds against your backside. The way his body responds, how quickly and deeply he’s moving into you tells you he wasn’t kidding.

Johnny had really worked himself up while fucking his hand.

Not that it mattered though, you were close to, feeling your stomach tighten into hot coils, while a rush of heat slipped through your body. It all felt better the second time, already used to his size. Your body was his for sculpting, as you moaned once more, closing your eyes.

“Ngh… Johnny… Fuck Johnny I-!” you’re cut off from your own pleasure, as your orgasm tears through your body.

It’s practically impossible to sit still, quivering beneath his body. Johnny’s free hand clamps over your mouth, as if he can prevent your release, while bucking into you with a desperate thrust. His own eyes close, voice turning into a series of low grunts.

“Ahhh…” Johnny whispers quietly, feeling your release slip out, coating his stomach.

That alone seems to be enough to send him over the edge. Johnny stays buried, as his cock twitches within you. Ropes of sticky white cum shoot out, flooding your senses. That doesn’t stop him from sloppily thrusting into you though, moaning softly, while his hand still covers your own mouth.

There’s something animalistic in his release, holding himself in you for a little longer, until he’s no longer twitching. Then Johnny pulls out, cum spilling on the already stained couch.

His grip loosens, hand falling off your mouth, as he catches his breath. You come down from the high yourself, gasping, as you study him. Johnny’s eyes are blank, as he slides off the couch, retrieving his pants. You half expect him to dismiss you, tell you to go home.

Instead however, he undoes the belt on your wrists, saying nothing. Johnny slips his shirt off, making his way to the back of the shack, where his bed remained.

You sat there for a moment in your post orgasmic haze, picking up his shirt that he had thrown carelessly on the ground. You can’t help but sniff it softly, smiling, as you pull it over your head. Then you follow Johnny, watching as he’s laid, stomach first in bed.

You wonder if he’s asleep for a moment, but he seems to sense your presence, shifting in his bed. Johnny doesn’t turn his head to look at you though.

“The fuck you lookin’ at?”

You never expected tenderness or praise after your activities. Hell, even the silence wasn’t anything new. It was not being immediately kicked out after that had your head turning. You stepped forward cautiously, crawling into the bed. Testing the waters.

Johnny doesn’t speak again.

You settle beneath the covers, wishing so desperately you could read his mind. Could hear what he was thinking. You’re surprised when he stretches his left hand out a little, turning it over to reveal his palm. You study it, expecting a knife to grow out of it. Or for Johnny to use the moment where you’re caught off guard to pull a knife out.

You hesitantly reach out, pressing one finger lightly into it at first, before flattening your whole hand. You’re surprised when his fingers curl around your hand, and not in a way where the grip is overbearing. You study him, not wanting to ruin the moment, as you settle in the sheets.

As quickly as you hold his hand, Johnny seems to drift off, his snores light and quiet. He looks peaceful in his sleep, and it’s hard to imagine this man as a cold and calculated killer.

#johnny sawyer #johnny sawyer x reader #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter #texas chainsaw massacre game #johnny sawyer x you #johnny slaughter x you #tcm #tcm game #texas chainsaw game

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johnnys-breastmilk · 2 months

Text

prison for life | johnny slaughter x gn!reader

a/n — I don't really like this lol, butttttt the low amount of Johnny content constitutes that the worst fics must be posted for the quantity

summary — Johnny got into a fight over you at the bar you own, and you patch him up.

words — 1.9k

warnings — mentions of blood and Johnny getting more scars. language

~~~

Watching people trickle out of the bar and onto the gravel pathway leading to your bar was always a treat—wishing them a safe travel home and a safer time searching for their keys while they laughed at the jokes the regulars heard every night and the newcomers would eventually get sick of. It’s what the final few minutes of any establishment should strive for. You got to be a part of the community from behind the bar, towel slung over one shoulder and the stream of a bottle flying over the next with the help of your many acquired flashy tricks. The final drink would be made just for you, by yourself. What wasn’t fun was watching them leave with shock and awe painted on their faces, the women ogling the man that just clobbered another out cold. The men with their spouses left in a hurry, both in fear of what happened moments before and nervousness that Johnny would snake his arm around those he stared at all night; his intentions for staring? Unclear. The line at which he would go from another bar patron to your champion of contest was equally so. Closing time should be that, but here you were, serving your last patron with alcohol that didn’t go anywhere near his mouth. It was for a scar on his shoulder…and for the nosebleed…and for his de-rooted tooth…and for the scar on his face. You would definitely need another drink after this.

Maybe two, just to see if Johnny was still alive. Still in the real world, if he was in it to begin with. His pain tolerance was uncomfortably high and he didn’t wince as much as you would in this situation. He proved it when he spoke, his voice low and gruff but still permeating through to the levity you were used to.

“Another scar to add to the collection.” He smirked, revealing the blood staining his teeth and wrinkling the blood that had dried on his skin just under his nose.

He could fight pretty well, but everyone has a center of gravity and the guys from the city possessed the knowledge to know how to tip him over like cattle. But Johnny actually did tip cattle, he was the one getting his hands dirty almost every day. He was used to meatheads. So in a quick motion of left-hooks and failed dodges, Johnny had the man on the floor within seconds.

“And another tooth lost.” You said, swishing around the one that was sitting at the bottom of an empty drinking glass. It rattled and clinked against the inside of the glass like someone dunked the body of a savior—your savior—in a stoup. While it was covered and stained with blood from the root it had been separated from, you could see between the red striping over it to notice the yellow staining—a trademark of bad hygiene. At certain angles, there seemed to be a black spot that was insidiously drilling into his tooth to rot it from the inside. “At least the cavity’s gone.”

“I got more of ‘em, though. Plenty, like shark teeth.” His smirk stretched into a wide grin, flashing his teeth in your direction. The gap between his teeth would have led you to believe he was missing something much bigger, but it was probably just your own head struggling to recognize it as a new feature on his face. It wasn’t like his fresh cuts that would turn to scars and eventually fade, no. Every time he smiled, smoked a cigarette, or bared his teeth to threaten someone, there would always be something missing now.

“I’ll count each row and if there aren’t fifty… Well, I know where one is. You want it?” Good thing there wasn’t anything missing in your relationship. He still bickered and didn’t lose his bite after the loss of one molar.

“Nah, just chuck it.” He didn’t want it to be more trouble than it was worth. It was his DNA—not yet incriminating for the time but it would be harder to identify him based on dental records, for the little paper trail he had left behind.

While he didn’t want to take home the proof that he didn’t walk away from the fight unscathed, he still won the fight. You tried to remind him of that, “Hey, you get to tell your family about the other guy when you get home. I think they will be pretty happy to hear that you’re okay. Minus one tooth.”

He laughed. This would be the part where he’d usually take a drink between pauses during the many conversations you shared with him before, his hand cupping at the air in a reflex before lightly knocking against the wooden bar with a flat palm. Almost in defeat; it was the same hand he had successfully tipped a cow down with one punch. “Sure… they’ll be real worried.”

You set the glass down as he tried picking one up, moving over to the first aid kit that was open and ripped apart from the inside, unpacking all of the quick medicinal fixes it had to offer. Johnny had a few cuts and you rushed to get it when the fight turned serious. Now that it had de-escalated: the man still on the floor with glass shards surrounding him, Johnny returning to the seat he’d been occupying at the bar all night, it made you feel a little overreactive to the situation.

Rounding the bar, you filled the space atop the empty brown stool next to Johnny. He leaned in your direction, brandishing his wounded shoulder with ease thanks to his sleeveless black tank. There was one deep cut heading straight for his bursa in the middle of his shoulder and a few lighter ones surrounding it that would only need to be cleaned and bandaged. The man didn’t speak and Johnny didn’t wince when you started patching him up. You were using vodka to treat his wounds, and a small glass of water to clean that after you wiped away the blood. The towel you usually had slung over your shoulder was now turning a deep red from its vibrant white, matted down with his blood. Lightly, you dabbed a little at his face, but he wouldn’t really turn to look in your direction. Once they were all clean, it was time to start on his dwelling laceration: you started on the right side and pierced the surface of his skin to lightly sew it back together. Johnny was a little squeamish to the feeling, but it started looking better towards the end. Too bad you couldn’t do the same for his tooth.

“Try not to move that arm so much or I’ll have to put another stitch in it.” You tried to get his mind onto something else and decided that being a pain in his ass would be better than letting his mind settle on the pain in his shoulder and face. You had two stitches or so left to do before you could tie off the thin thread. “C’mon, you can tell them about how you kicked that guy out!”

“He came at me with a glass after I asked him to leave. Not much of a story to tell.” Johnny sounded a bit unamused, like the work he did was conscientious to the liking of a law enforcer.

“That’s not how I remember it.” Johnny came up to the guy, commanding him to leave for the things he overheard. When he refused to leave, Johnny grabbed him by the arm with enough strength to lift him out of his seat. The man’s drink spilled out of his glass, and in an undefinable rage, he hit Johnny with the glass on his left shoulder—the same side as the arm he used to pull him away from his source of intoxication. You only caught wind of the last action, returning from the back office with a rack of clean drinking glasses that you let slip out of your grasp when you saw Johnny get hit. The noise caused him to turn to look at you, revealing the scar across his face from one of the shards of glass grazing his cheek from the impact on his shoulder to cut him up.

“Listen!” He snarled out, shooting up and pulling away from you. You just had to tie the knot at this point. “I woulda kept my cool but he—”

“I don’t pay you to keep your cool.” And you were right, he kind of just came in and occupied a seat in the bar. He would stare at people when they barked at you—his warm brown eyes hardening into dirt-colored pebbles and silica daggers, unseen but felt. Sometimes, these men would take it too far and he’d cause them to fall face-first into the dirt outside after a harsh eviction. What would Johnny do with this guy? You could probably drag him out of the place if you really tried, but Johnny could lift like he ate—big and hefty.

“You don’t pay me nothin’” But he was right, too. He wasn’t the typical image of security. He wasn’t big enough to block doors, he didn’t sit at the entrance, and he sure as hell didn’t care to card people walking in.

“Except in free drinks. Get a six-pack out of the cooler on your way out, you earned it. Just… don’t drink it ‘till you’re home?” There was a black refrigerator by the door with a glass panel taking up most of the hinged door in front of it. Of all the things to get broken in the fight, you wouldn’t expect a measly cup to go first.

Or for your heart to shatter, when Johnny asked with a little bit of surprise, “You worried about me?”

“About myself. I don’t have the strength or gall to take on the farmers around here.” You pulled on the string hanging from his shoulder, tying it into a knot. You decided in the brief moment between spoken words that Johnny would be fine without treating his face if it was only cleaned. “And you have to get that guy home—that’s your last job of the night. I’ll help you throw him into your pickup, yeah?”

“But he, he said things about you I didn’t like.” You turned to the first-aid kit, reaching in for the tiny pair of scissors to cut the extra thread. When you turned back, you spoke with intrigue.

“Like what?”

“I don’t want to think about it. He might not make it home safe if I do.” Johnny smirked, his eyes wandering off into his own fantasy for a moment at the things he could do to the man on the floor.

“Fine, I won’t pry.” You finished up stitching him, closing the book on the night’s chaos. Johnny got out of his stool, standing over the guy with both legs on either side of his unconscious body. He reached down and hoisted him up by the shoulders, being intentionally careless as he let his legs drag and hit against the table and chair legs on his way out. You got a six-pack for him—a Pearl beer, his favorite—and followed him out to his old Chevy. Johnny didn’t tear any of his stitchings when throwing the guy into the back of his truck, and the drunken bastard didn’t wake up to any of Johnny’s rough handlings. You said your goodbyes to him and wished the guy a safe and bumpy travel home, but he would never walk back into the bar again.

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johnnys-breastmilk · 2 months

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a stab at it | johnny slaughter x gn!reader

a/n — I had the writing itch and this came to me, started as a vague fic before turning into a Johnny one, so the plot is probably crappy. making up for my April fools fic!!!! (accept this as an apology)

summary — Johnny comes into the diner you work at late at night.

words — 1.4k

warnings — mentions of blood, possibly out of character!Johnny, swearing

~~~

The diner with no name. A pit stop on the way to bigger, brighter places like Austin or Dallas. No one cared about Newt besides the people who lived in it, and the diner was so far out of the way for anyone who lived in between the spaced-out houses for anyone from up that way to come around. It became the sweet spot for foreigners because it was closer to them than it was to where, legally, this place could be held in contempt.

The customers without faces. They stuff everything into little pockets of life that are designed to be unremarkable. Their outlines don't leave a lasting impact. The red, cushioned seating of each booth and stool doesn't leave an indent of their presence, of their scent. It wears off when the next dull-faced person comes in and orders the special to feel special, but in reality, they're like everyone else. The money they pay with is monopoly; kiddish, fast-change for a faster leave. Everyone accepts it but you need to be a special kind of person to work here. Their silhouettes as they leave are untraceable beyond the set of glass doors at the entrance. Vibrant purple lighting casts down on them and is usually diffracted by the soft yellow headlights of rusted and muddied trucks.

Another pulled up, casting light into the tall windows looking out into total darkness. You could've seen him coming from a good mile away—that’s how obvious the light would have been against the night, nothing else around to compete with his headlights—but paid no mind as he pulled into a vacant spot in front of the diner.

His figure was different, the way he walked left dirty bootprints on the floor. Each step seemed to shake off something: dirt, sweat, fleas—if he was rabid. He looked fresh out of a street fight, claw-like scrapes along his arms that were lazily cared for in some areas and ignored in others like he couldn’t even feel it. You couldn’t even imagine what was festering over his soiled handkerchief, the concoction of what you assumed to be blood—probably his, tending to the wounds that drew blood—and dirt and the firm press his strong hands must have had on it while he lathered it in such a dirty blend must have aided in it’s deforming. It hung off his person, but it wasn’t swinging freely. It was stiff and dried and only molded to his stand when he took a seat at one of the red stools. The blood on his white rag wasn’t the vibrant red of the stool, some of the spots were browning—likely a week old—and the newer spots were a darker shade.

“You here all by yourself?” He asked, looking at you. You didn’t realize that the rest of the diner was empty—including the skeleton crew of staff. In fact, it was just you working tonight. The other server on duty left over an hour ago to deal with a family emergency, something about a family member that had gone missing. You couldn’t really say much without looking like an asshole, so here you were: stood on the inside of the U-shaped counter, facing a man whose appearance was unusually cold as he sat on the outside of it.

“No, Bob’s in the kitchen.” You lied, the taste bitter like the bacon you burnt this morning during whatever it is a dying business can experience that is closest to a ‘rush.’ Bob quit weeks ago when the business was slow and the money coming in was slower. “You’re stuck with me up here, sugar.”

It might have been a lie, but you couldn’t care. Whatever made him think he couldn’t get a jump on you. But he seemed unamused, and that’s when you noticed the knife. It was on the other side of his hips, fastened between one of the belt loops on his jeans. The blade of it looked longer as you pushed open the waist-high swinging door to collect the dishes of the last family that ate. It gave you an excuse to look him up and down, and he didn’t have anything hiding under the counter that should make you nervous. He wasn’t even positioned to grab his knife quickly—his shoulder relaxed and his hands resting on top of the pale yellow counter.

After taking the dishes to the back, making a mental note to wash them before you left, you went back to the front. Johnny spoke up as he watched you strut back into the room with unknown purpose, his voice giving it a guide. “Could I… have a menu? You said someone’s still in the kitchen, so it’s open, right?"

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You said, reaching under the counter to get a paper menu for him. You slid it across, keeping your eyes trained on your hand and then his face came into the picture.

“It’s okay.” His voice was meek, softer and lighter than when he asked if you were alone. Was he playing for pity points—trying to get sympathy like it was free to hand out these days? “I just haven’t done this in a while. I don’t get out much.”

“Then why are you here?” It was something about him that made you say that—the rudeness, the imposition his mere presence emitted in a place like this. The way he smelled, the way he sounded. You looked away from him, out the window and into the nothingness only to return to his eyes. They were dark, seeing the hidden horrors of the night but there was something deeper in them that faded at your comment. His eyes went from doe-like to predatorily pouncing on your figure. From the apron tied around your waist, pens and notepads and straws and silverware stuffed in the various pockets of it, to the misshapen yellow cloth covering your upper body and then finally to your face. His voice shifted, too, going from the soft sounds of the wind to being as fiery as his truck’s engine.

“Because I’m not some bitch. I cut up—” he paused, before continuing, “—cattle all the time. It’s nice to eat a meal that isn’t something I have to work my ass off for.”

He continued his tangent, “In fact, I’ll make this easy for you so you quit your bitchin’. I don’t want anything savory, just get me a slice of pie. That should be easy enough for ya, right?”

You nodded and told him that it was coming up. You pushed the door open to the kitchen and pulled his pie out of the fridge. The oven was already heated, so you cut a slice bigger than what you would normally serve for him and put it on a pan and slid it into the oven. He shouted from the front, his accent like and voice losing its projection as he yelled, “Christ, and a cold one too! If you have it…”

Most people probably would’ve left. A diner in the middle of Nowhere, Texas with one person manning the kitchen and dining area is one big red flag for the quality of service. It took almost four minutes to heat up his requested pie—blueberry with crumbles of sugary clumps on top mixed with some crushed graham crackers. You didn’t know if he wanted whipped cream or not, so you kept it to the side when you brought it out to him. But this man was different, he looked like he hadn’t seen real food at all in his lifetime. You set it down in front of him, taking the opportunity to use your position on the inside of the counter to pull silverware from your apron like magic.

Setting the fork down next to his plate on the counter, he seemed to be in a lighter mood. He pulled his knife out, placing it on the opposite side of his plate. “Trade ya?”

“Only if you can’t pay. But this is on the house.”

Not only did he look happy when you said that, but when he took the first bite, his expression changed for the better. A smile formed around the fork, still in his mouth at the first taste of sweetness. His upturned lips crinkled his cheeks, and in turn, wrinkled the scar running down his face. You set yourself down on the counter, holding your face in your hands and letting your elbows rest on the counter. He smiled like a child and you admired him for it. "How is it? Good?"

He nodded. The man with no name, but an irascible personality. Unforgettable and strong. He was different because he liked this diner’s crappy food more than most. He liked the people in it, too. If only it could last that long...

#johnny slaughter #x male reader #x reader #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter x you #fanfic #johnny sawyer #the texas chainsaw massacre x reader #texas chainsaw game #texas chainsaw massacre game #the texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw massacre #Johnny tcm #johnny slaughter x male reader #johnny slaughter x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #johnny slaughter x y/n #x y/n

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johnny-slaughter-me · 9 months

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— “ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐨𝐝𝐚. ” | Johnny Slaughter x Gender -Neutral Reader.

Drabble. In which Johnny takes a trip to the city and brings you back a lil something to make you happy.

Notes. English isn't my native language so typos and grammar issues are likely.

Warnings. This fic is sfw. Canon gore and cannibalism mentioned.

Enjoy. I hope you enjoy the content. Much love, Cherry. 🍒

"No" Nancy said, Johnny took a breath and collected his thoughts once again. He had expected his mother to be against the idea of him taking you with him to the city, but with all his love to her, he new that leaving you alone with her was a bad idea. "Then I'm leaving them with Sissy until I'm back." "Do you not trust me?" Nancy said harshly, "no, not really." Johnny replied. "I love you ma, but you don't really like them and I do if I come back and they turned into dinner I'll loose it, do you want me to suffer ma? After everything I've done for the fam?" He asked Nancy, in a cold tone, looking her straight in the eyes. "Fine, leave them with Sissy. If they are truly that important to you." Nancy and Johnny finally come to an agreement.

"Hey there, cutie." Johnny tells you, "hey" you shyly reply. It was when you and your friend came looking for Maria, Ana's sister who had gone missing. Loosing your fate in the authorities you decided to make your own search party. Unfortunately your friends, Connie, Leland, Julie, Ana, and Sonny all met the same fate as Maria. But Johnny felt something when he first saw you tied up in the basement. He took you to his shed, when you woke up he started talking to you, conversations he never could share with the family. You were refreshing for him. "Now if you don't wanna end up served next to mash potatoes like your friends, I suggest you listen to me." Johnny told you, and you have been part of the family since. Nancy still being the coldest one towards you, but you were just grateful to be alive. But now Johnny, the one you had grown close to, and despite the fact he was basically your kidnapper he was also the one protecting you, from Nancy mostly. Now he told you he had to go to the city, and he had to leave you, "What if your mom tries to kill me?" You asked Johnny, "don't worry cutie, im leaving you with Sissy, and Drayton and Nubbins will also protect you. And ya know, Bubba will do his best to not scare ya." Johnny reassured, but then continued "say, didn't ya tell me that time we clean the shed that what ya missed most was cherry soda?" In disbelief, your eyes grew bigger and you just stared at Johnny for a moment, then you came back to your senses and said "yeah, I didn't expect you to remember, its such a mild detail." "Well, cutie pie, how 'bout this? You behave and when I come back you'll have a lil treat, on me."

It's been a few days since Johnny left, and his family took care of you, even Nancy tried not to scare you since she knew how much you meant to her boy. Just before dinner Johnny pulled back to the house, everyone rushed to say hello, and unload all of the goods he had brought with him. Whilst the family started walking toward the house you and Johnny stood by the back of his truck. "I've missed ya, cutie. Glad to see no one hurt you." "Oh Johnny you won't believe it, but mom even told me good morning once!" You shared with excitement. "Glad to hear. Now wait here I got ya a lil somethin'." And just as he promised you, Johnny came back with a 12 pack of cherry soda.

#Cherry Writes 🍒#Johnny Slaughter #Johnny Slaughter x Reader #Johnny Slaughter x GN Reader

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johnnys-breastmilk · 2 months

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cherry on top | Johnny Slaughter x gn!reader

a/n — 1000% cheesy dumb self-indulgent birthday nonsense. wasn't gonna post because I honestly don't like this fic but the lack of Johnny stuff makes me want to just to put out something for the guy

words — 1.9k (the smut is short sorry, wanted to get this out on my actual bday!)

warnings — smut (not very graphic but still 18+), nipple play (Johnny receiving), food play, whipped cream, strawberries, implied cannibalism for both reader and Johnny, not proofread! consider y'alls birthday gift to me that i get to post one bad fic this year <3

summary — Johnny lets you take the reins for your birthday.

~~~

The door to Johnny’s shack shut with a bang, followed by a mumbled curse. From his bed, your eyes fluttered open. Between the mess of flower-patterned sheets and pillows you were buried in, you could see the man of the house take a step back to the door, then his eyes flicked to you to see if he had interrupted your sleep. You shut your eyes, too tired to take in the dreaded sunlight pouring in; you were so well-rested that you could fall asleep all over again—the feeling of sleep was addictive to your tired body. The only energy your body had was to pull the covers of his linens over your head with one hand. The earthy scents of him filled out the absence of his actual presence.

Your mind slipped away for a second, back into the dreamy state of consciousness where responsibilities didn’t exist and life had no issues. The man entering your cabin could solve about ninety-nine of your problems, though, and you slowly started to realize that you had an increasingly worrying problem on your plate. You peeked through the slits of the blanket at him. Even without looking at him in a clear view, he still looked like Adonis in your crooked and half-obscured-by-the-pillow perspective. Covered in his prey’s blood, his hunt was successful. But, hunting? Johnny usually woke you up at five in the morning, when the creatures of the night were heading to bed after a night of existence. You hunted in the realm of the crepesculars, operating on the thin line between night and day, all to maximize the hours you had to hunt and he was already coming back from it? It couldn’t be that time already, could it?

Johnny heard the sheets ruffle, and your breath hastily drew in with a panic. You had overslept. He let his knife clatter in the sink, turning to face you while leaning back against the counter. You could see the blood more clearly, it was smeared all over the front of his body. Staining his jeans—his favorite pair, the ones you said made his ass look the best—and trailing all over his torso before ending with a bloody handprint across his face. “It’s just me.”

“How fucked am I?” You asked, knocking the sheets off your body. Being a part of his family meant you had to contribute to the dinner at the end of every day, to make sure that everything was functional since you were Johnny’s piece—his pride. He provided less than a solid answer as you took a moment to acclimate yourself to the day. Ever since you moved in with Johnny, you had never really had a morning like this; a morning where your day started so late. Nancy liked when Johnny’s partners would accompany him on hunts and his more normal errands like getting car parts from the mechanic a few towns over and getting fruits from the market a few miles down the road, and she was too unpredictable to not heed the warnings of. Most of them came from Johnny, so that’s why you knew to take it seriously. It’s why today needed to be just like the rest, regardless of whether or not it was your birthday.

“Happy birthday, sweetness.” He smirked, knowing that even in the real world, you wouldn’t have any responsibilities today. “I woulda woken up right next to ya, but I was out huntin’ for your birthday dinner… and doin’ a few other things.”

“So, you did the hunting, tidied up around here, and went into town?” You asked, drawing near him. The blood had yet to dry, its sheen shining strong with the cracks of sun peeking through the window. He must have purposefully gone out hunting while shirtless, too. “What exactly is my present? A whole new Johnny?”

He let his head drop down and looked at his feet, rubbing his boot a little harder into the floor. “Something like that.”

It had only been a few minutes but the position you were in changed drastically. Johnny gave you a rundown of everything about your gift, including the various items that were included in it. One of which was a can of whipped cream that he picked up with the fresh fruit and placed it alongside them in the fridge—strawberries were in season, so two small wooden crates filled the space in his fridge next to the canister. The second thing was Johnny himself, which came as a shock. His first gift made sense because it was a sweet retreat from the many meals of savory meat from your hunts being fashioned into the three core meals one must eat every day, but the second was new. Different. Sensitive. He proposed it without looking you in the eye, so you didn’t believe it at first.

“I figured I’d be nice and give ya’ full, unlimited access. Get yer fix for the rest of the year so you stop chewin’ my damn ear off.” He sounded hesitant to offer it up, the fatigue in his tone from hunting as well as having to hear your incessant cries about wanting to experiment with him rang through. But today was your birthday, so he wanted to make it special.

Even if he didn’t want it at first, his tone shifted when your lips finally collided. You had been moving closer to him since you left his bed and now you were finding your way back to it with him in your arms. Your attempts to stay blood-free worked until you went to push him by the shoulder and back onto his bed, some of it smearing over your hand. Johnny’s legs hung over the bed and nearly touched the floor, placing his head around the upper middle of his bed and giving him room to lift his arms above him. This gave you the perfect access to get to work.

“Hell, I think this’ll be more than you can chew,” he teased. He cocked his head to look at where you were headed, your body was noticeably gone just as the fun was starting. But then, Johnny saw you return from across the shack with the whipped cream in hand.

From there, he became your already-painted canvas. The blood on him was the first coat of paint—still setting, still drying. Next in the assemblage was a healthy layer of the sweet foam. The cap came off with ease and you started coating him in it. You drew a heart over his chest first, then followed by swirling the foamy cream over his nipples. Johnny moaned at the cold sensation against his hot body. The way the can inconsistently sprayed droplets outside of your designated whipping area to add to the mess of red all over him. Johnny was already starting to feel desperate to the point that you had to shoo away one of his hands from knocking the cold cream off his sensitive nipples. You had never seen him like this before. Different. Sensitive. This was such a fast way to make him cave, and you had barely done anything at all! He must have insanely delicate around his buds.

You pulled back to admire your work. He noticed your puzzled look as you scanned over it like an artist who nearly had everything put together the way you liked it. “What’s wrong, sweetness?”

“It’s missing something.” You pouted. He had the perfect milky base, a cavalcade of saltiness topped with the sweet cream and bloody cherry drizzle. Though, something was amiss. The final thing to adorn him with that would make the centerpiece in the middle of the bed complete; something that would win the county fair. It wasn’t there. No, it was still sitting in the fridge.

You followed a loose path back to his fridge, swinging the door open and grabbing the strawberries on the shelf. Setting them on the counter, you grabbed two—one for you, and one for Johnny—and made your way back to him. He was still untouched, still perfectly in place without a hair moved for you. If he thought the sweet cold ivory was painful on his marinated skin, the cold sensation of chilled strawberries sent him over the edge. You ran it over him like an ice cube, watching it pick up some of the blood and whipped cream, cutting right through the heart you carefully drew over his chest. The strawberry was run across his body like the last bite of a meal with a sauce that you really want to get the flavor out of. Then, you lifted the thing to your mouth, taking a bite and savoring the bitter and sweet combination of flavor. The notes of metal in the blood were hidden and blended into the oncoming notes of sweet cream, followed by the tart taste of the berry.

Johnny’s face lightened as he watched you go in for seconds, dipping the rest of the strawberry in the sauce spread all over his body. You did the same with the second one, making it with the same amount of gore-soaked toppings and twisted dabble of whipped cream as the last.

You offered the decadent strawberry to Johnny, but made one condition clear, “Bite down on this for me. Don’t eat it yet.”

His face twisted into one of confusion, but he didn’t question you. He let out a soft, “Aw, hell…” His mouth stayed open, waiting for you to bring the fruit to his lips. He accepted it when it was placed to his lips, wrapping them around the fruit, and, from the inside, he ran his tongue over the parts he could taste and lick at. He wanted to pierce the berry’s flesh, to make its flavor bleed into the rest.

While he was distracted with that, you took the opportunity to get to work. You lowered yourself back down so that your face was level with his pecs and started lapping at the dollop of whipped cream swirled around one of his nipples. You licked the soft peak away until there was only his hard pebbled flesh, so red and sensitive from just a few presses of your tongue. Johnny squirmed, a moan being muffled by the strawberry in his mouth. Things only got worse when you moved over to his other bud, doing the same motions to wipe away the cream and get to the really sensitive part. He struggled not to bite down on the strawberry, or to end this little reverie of lenience he offered for your birthday. He gave you so much power and he hated you for it. He hated that you made him squirm and buck his hips with need, desperate to pull you off his nipple and guide you to his waiting dick. But he fought the urge for you, to give you the control you deserve on a day like today.

All he knew was that the feeling was too much, the juxtaposition of cold cream twirled around his rosy tips to your hot tongue leaving them a wet and sticky mess was much too much. In what was probably one of the fastest instances ever—he came. His jeans darkened with a soupy mess of white just like the melted remains of cream running over his chest and onto the bed. If this was desert, you couldn’t wait to get to dinner.

#x reader #x male reader #fanfic #johnny slaughter #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter x you #tcm #tcm game #texas chainsaw game #texas chainsaw massacre game #texas chainsaw massacre x reader #johnny sawyer #johnny sawyer x reader #johnny slaughter tcm #johnny tcm

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johnnys-breastmilk · 3 months

Text

SFW Alphabet List - Johnny Slaughter x GN!Reader edition

a/n — okay, I was gonna put the sfw as well as the nsfw abc list in the same post, but I changed it so they'll be different posts. will post the nsfw later today, but enjoy my crappy head canons for Johnny (this is a bit more informally written compared to my fics since it's simpler than them)

warnings — general implications of harm, dark!Johnny (somewhat possessive, controlling, etc), tcm is the source material so I think y'all know what else is in here... but: mentions of hunting and cannibalism

~~~

A — Affection

Given that his way of living isn’t very lucrative, Johnny prefers to spend quality time with you. He teaches you skills like hunting and tracking down animals in the woods, and how to fix-up cars. When Johnny isn’t or can’t be around, he tries to make up for it by giving you gifts. Most of them come from the victims he hunts, but it’s the thought that counts! Maybe he saw some jewelry and thought it would look much nicer on you.

B — Best Friend

Having a friend like Johnny is like befriending a mangy dog. You have to be the one to talk to him and earn his trust. Johnny is weird as a friend, mostly because he can’t share much about his lifestyle with you. But he likes the consistency you bring, you have a regular life and are always at the bar he frequents to pick up victims. Everyone else there looked at him funny, but you liked that he clashed with the establishment. He was fresh off the farm and looked like he needed a drink, so you bought him one and you two sit and talk for hours. You’ve entertained him about his hunting interests before, but you have no idea that he usually talking about hunting people.

C — Cuddling

Johnny loves handholding. After losing his mom, the last thing he wants to feel is you slipping away from him. He never wants you to leave, and he’ll take that motivation as far as he needs to. It started out as handholding and not much else, but then he got more comfortable with your touch. His favorite way to cuddle with you is in bed with him as the little spoon and you pressed against his back—he feels so safe and protected, but he also loves when you lay on his chest.

D — Domestic

Maybe in another life, he would have fought a lot harder to have a regular life with you. He likes your arrangement with him now, though. Because he’s the one usually hunting and getting the food for the two of you, he relies on you to cook and clean around his shack.

E — Ending

Johnny would both take it well and take it horribly. He’s had to kill so many people that he doesn’t feel much when you leave him (or come to the same fate as his victims), but he also hates seeing someone who provided him stability and a sense of normalcy amidst everything he does to be gone from his life. He would miss you, but he’s used to it by now.

F — Fiance

He would get married if his partner really wanted it, but he’s fine leaving things undefined. He loves you and doesn’t need to do anything traditional to prove it. Johnny will do a lot to show his love for you, more than any ring will show.

G — Gentle

When Johnny gets to know you, he’ll do everything in his power not to harm a hair on your head. But with a violent upbringing comes an unwillingly violent nature, so he tries his best but he’s not always perfect. He can get upset easily if you approach him about a touchy topic, and his way of getting you to stop talking isn’t always the nicest.

H — Hugs

Johnny loves to come up and hug you from behind on those slow mornings when you’re in his shack while making breakfast.

I — I Love You

Because he needs time to warm up to you—even after you have started dating him—Johnny probably wouldn’t say it until well into your relationship. He wants to be sure that you accept him for who he is and everything that he fails to be, and when he’s confident that you love him, he’ll love you too.

J — Jealous

Johnny gets extremely jealous when anyone other than him flirts with you. It doesn’t help that he can actually do something about it and hunt them down, all it takes is one hint in the right direction and he’ll make them pay…

K — Kisses

Johnny’s kisses border on the line of soft and rough. If he’s just returned from a successful hunt, he’ll kiss you passionately with a craze in his eyes. But other times, his kisses are slow and sensual—he wants to take in your taste and how you feel pressed against him. He loves kissing you along your neck and collarbone, and he loves when you kiss his scars, especially the one across his face.

L — Little Ones

Surprisingly, Johnny is the best with kids out of his entire family. He provides enough sternness but also is willing to work with them more than any adult. He also has the sense to protect them after coming to terms with what he’s been through. But, he also feels like he could be among the same people who would inflict the pain he felt on to a new generation of kids because of how he’s been raised. He wants to give them a good life, but he knows that he’ll more than likely parent them like Nancy.

M — Mornings

Mornings with Johnny are slow. You’ll usually wake up to the cool air in his cabin, the Texas sun having yet to make things boil. He wakes up before you more often than not, and he’ll wait for you to get up with him. You have surprised him on occasion by waking up before him to make breakfast and picking out an outfit for him to wear.

N — Nights

You’ve spent countless nights holed up in Johnny’s shack. The two of you usually have an exhausting day out in the heat, so you spend this time cooling off and letting the only light in your life be the man next to you. Johnny will usually praise you on how well you did around the house, his cold demeanor fading away by the day’s end. You’ll usually fall asleep to him rubbing your side while you’re in his embrace, listening to the crickets chirp outside.

O — Open

At first, Johnny is very short with his answers. He won’t tell you much and will definitely get angry if you pester him about it. The best thing to do is to wait.

It would be kind of different when he does open up, depending on how you’ve met him. If it were under regular circumstances, he’d almost come off as mean or disinterested because he can’t afford to slip up about his family or “job.” If you met as one of his victims, then you already know the half of it. Either way, he wouldn’t tell you about his personal life until he feels like he can trust you. Maybe he’s returned to his shack in the middle of the night, bloody and winded and you rush to clean him up. Slowly, he starts telling you about this girl he hunted that looked like his mother and he fills you in on details he’s never told anyone.

P — Patience

Johnny has a moderate tolerance for things that make him angry. He’s not someone to immediately snap at something that annoys him, but he has his days where his patience wears thin.

Q — Quizzes

He knows more than enough about you to win one of those stupid gameshows you always call in to answer. You could be in his shack, listening to a gameshow on the radio, and reach for his corded telephone to call in. He’ll be on the other side of the shack, but he’ll hear the radio and the question they ask you. He’d know your exact answer and the fact that this is your favorite way to pass the time when very little is going on. So, yeah, he definitely knows you well enough.

R — Remember

His favorite memory is when you said “I love you.” He’ll always remember it because it was genuine. You didn’t say it after a date or during the thrill of a hunt, you just said it because you could. Because, when you looked into those brown eyes, you just knew it. There was nothing else influencing your words, you just loved him. Plain and simple.

S — Security

Johnny wants to make you feel safe. Even from his other family members, he’ll protect you.

T — Try

Johnny puts his heart into hunting for you. He wants you to eat well and never go hungry. He feels the need to be a provider, to protect you and make sure you’re taken care of. He hates how sappy he gets around the time that the two of you met, but he does try to get you something you’ll like—whether that’s just spending the day with you or giving you gifts he swiped off of his victims. Dates are simple, but he usually takes you on driving dates, ones where you take your dinner and hit the road, traveling to a new place in Texas for the fun of it.

U — Ugly

Johnny can be a bit possessive. If he’s uncomfortable with you doing something, he may try to talk you out of it. And if he’s really not okay with it, then he may do something more drastic.

V — Vanity

He could care less about his looks. He does so much dirty work around the family’s properties that he can’t be bothered to make sure he’s consistently clean and presentable. He’ll frequently come home with car grease and blood all over him.

W — Whole

Johnny is used to feeling isolated from the rest of his family, so he’s used to being on his own. He survived on his own before you and can survive on his own without you. If he ever were to lose you, he would try not to think about how much he needs you.

X — Xtra

Johnny loves taking baths over showers, it reminds him of when he was a kid and his mom would come into the bathroom and brush all of his hair back into a similar mullet style like he has today with her hands so that the shampoo wouldn’t get in his eyes. And she’d run water down his back by scooping up some of it with her hands.

Y — Yuck

Johnny doesn’t like people who refuse to get dirty. He wants to show you his hobbies, which are notably messy and involve a lot of mental and physical dirty work. He doesn’t need you to enjoy it as much as him, but he wants someone who doesn’t turn their nose up at it all the time.

Z — Zzz

Johnny is a restless sleeper. He often has nightmares that cause him to stir and roll, but it seems to lessen the more he opens up to you and the closer he can be with you.

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adaptacy · 9 months

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How would Johnny react? If his s/o proposed ?

oooo okay.... ever since i wrote my pregnancy h/c for him domestic reformed!johnny has been on my mind and this sorta feeds into that hehe this'll still be like normal cannibal johnny and everything but you get it

Johnny Slaughter x Gn!Reader

also check out this new divider i stitched together for him!

The two of you had been together for a while, and although you knew everything that was going on with him, he just would not let you meet his family. Just told you they weren't very sociable, and you've given up asking after ~3 months of constantly begging.

Truth was, Nancy would hate you- hate the fact that he had a partner, and he didn't want to crush you like that. He knew it would hurt you, even if it wasn't anything personal on your part and was purely Nancy being overprotective.

Because of that, he never took the relationship and further than nice dates, staying at your house for 3-4 days at a time, etc. But you were tired of just dating, and you really loved him, and knew he loved you too. So if he wasn't going to propose, you were going to.

You didn't get any special super fancy ring; chances were he wasn't going to wear it anyways if he didn't want his family knowing about you. And you didn't take him to a super fancy restaurant or anything incredibly special because you knew he'd immediately be suspicious. You just did it one day when he was staying over. He was in the kitchen, making lunch for the two of you, and you tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, and you showed him the box.

"What, darlin'?" He'd ask, not quite understanding. And then you opened the box, and he'd spend a good two minutes in silence, just staring.

"Babe, the omelets are burning," you'd hum, and he'd turn off the stove, though the lunch was already probably messed up. He put all of his attention to you, turning and just waiting. For an explanation, or something, but all you said was "Will you marry me?"

"Sweetpea..." he'd murmur, reaching up and closing the box. "You ain't gotta get me a ring." And you'd frown at him, knowing what this meant. He wasn't rejecting you, but he wasn't accepting it either. He told you that things were still rough at home with his family, and that he couldn't give you the time you deserved if the two of you were engaged.

And he'd return to making lunch. But you'd sneak underneath his arm and stand in front of him, forcing him away from the stove. You'd trail your fingers over his arm and talk about how you wanted to live with him- full-time, not this on-and-off shit. And he'd sigh, and then you'd tell him that you wanted a life with him, a family... Maybe a dog, some livestock...

He'd sigh at the fantasies you were putting into his head, and he'd cradle your face, narrowing his eyes at you as if he didn't understand what you were asking. It was clear, and you knew he was just being dodgy. So you'd tell him to run away.

"You know I can't do that," he'd chuckle. "Why not?" "I got responsibilities here." "Why can't I be your responsibility? You can't live with them forever."

But that's what he was used to- staying with them. And he knew he couldn't marry you and be part of the Sawyers. Nancy would have his head on a stick. He'd been slowly warming her up to the idea of a partner, but this was an entirely different level.

So you sighed and stuck the ring box into a drawer, leaving it for a rainy day. You assumed that it was going to be like this forever; just dating, hardly ever seeing him, him constantly being busy, and you'd never be able to have a real life with him. Because he was stubborn.

But Johnny could not get the idea of a family with you out of his mind. He'd always wanted a dog. Had one as a kid, but it ran off. Owning some sort of ranch with you sounded like heaven, but... Surely he couldn't. It must've been a pipe dream...

. . . .

Two months later, he took you out to a sunflower field and proposed with the same ring you'd put away. And he promised he'd run away with you. Go up north, or west, or east, or south- he didn't care. He knew he loved you and you were right, he couldn't stay with his family forever. You accepted, of course, and he told you to wear the engagement ring until the two of you could get away. To keep it warm for him.

And when you did eventually make it out of Texas, or at least out of Newt, you never once saw him without it. He put the ring on a thin wire and strung it around his neck, wearing it as a necklace because he didn't want to risk breaking it with all of the physical activity he did.

Plus, it looked really nice hanging from his chest when he was on top of you.

#tcm #johnny slaughter #adapting to johnny slaughter #johnny slaughter tcm #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter fluff #johnny slaughter headcanons #johnny tcm

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johnnys-breastmilk · 3 months

Text

NSFW Alphabet List - Johnny Slaughter x GN!Reader edition

a/n — nsfw list as promised! this one is significantly darker than the sfw list. I attempted to make it as gender neutral as possible!

warnings — please be aware that this alphabet list contains dark contents. dark!Johnny Slaughter, knife play, murder, implications of stalking, consensual non-con, blood play, general violence, necrophilia, dismemberment, choking kink, hunting kink, smut, 18+

don't like? don't read. I may have posted this, but I am not responsible for your media consumption. Keep scrolling if any of that sounds like it may be triggering.

A — Aftercare

Johnny isn’t the best at aftercare, and he doesn’t really try at all. It’s like a jarring personality change as he becomes cold to you when he’s finished. He’ll waddle from his bed to his fridge and return with a beer and softly sip it as he tries to listen to the music playing on the radio. If he’s been rough with you, he’ll make sure you can at least bandage yourself before minding his own business.

B — Body Part

Johnny loves his hands. He loves unraveling you with only two fingers, or wrapping both of his hands around your neck for some more intense moments. You usually end the night with the early stages of bruising around your neck from how hard he’ll squeeze.

Your favorite part about him is his back. It’s so scratch-able while he fucks you and insanely easy to hold onto thanks to its definition.

C — Cum

Johny’s not one to play with it, he just likes to cum in or on you—though, he rather prefers the latter to mark you with it—and then help you clean it up after. He loves cumming on your back or on your face the most.

D — Dirty Secret

While he doesn’t love to play with cum, he does love to play with blood. He loves to run his knife along you, carefully cutting into your skin to let you stain his bedsheets. He’ll watch blood perforate the small cuts and how the blood runs down your skin like teardrops until he swipes it up with his finger. He’ll taste it, flashing a bloody smirk as his teeth are already stained with your bloodletting. Sometimes, he marks tallies on your body with it for how many loads he’s pounded into you so far.

He loves when it coats his body—his dick, specifically. The way it feels against his skin. The way he watches your holes turn red, blushing almost, at his primal nature.

E — Experience

Johnny is plenty experienced in the world of sex. Mostly, he’s experienced in pleasuring himself. He had numerous stints where he’d hook up with the people passing through Newt as a young adult, and that, cobbled together with his own self-exploration, led to him being able to do what he can do now. He can make you cum just from how much he’s trying to get himself off.

F — Favorite Position

His favorite position is to fuck you in is the mating press. It allows him to go as deep as he wants into you while looking at your face, his hands able to easily slip around your neck while he’s fucking you. It’s primal and leaves nothing in his way for him to go as fast or as hard as he wants.

G — Goofy

For the most part, Johnny is pretty serious. He wants to get in and get out, to get pleasure from fucking you and then go on with his day. He wants to get the job done, because his family has conditioned him to be anything less than perfect. The only funny parts come from his own actions, like when he talks to himself to hype himself up or is trying way too hard to be serious in the moment. He'll loosen up after it's all said and done, though.

H — Hair (body hair)

We’ve all seen him shirtless. Johnny lets his body hair grow, but he doesn’t have much to offer. He has a light coating of hair over his thighs that thickens up when you reach his crotch. The carpet matches the drapes, though, and his hair down there is unkempt. It’s too much work to use all those “fancy tools” to keep it clean, and if you don’t like it, there’s always a way to convince you.

I — Intimacy

The violence mentioned above is one of Johnny’s many ways of being romantic. He has a fucked up sense of love, and that’s just one of the byproducts of his upbringing, but he can be sweet in the traditional sense. There are times when he gives you a break, whether he’s feeling romantic or if you ask for it, he’ll take things easy when you want something less intense.

J — Jackoff

Johnny has a pretty high libido, but he has his responsibilities that keep him away from you. He doesn’t love doing it since playing around with you has made him cum harder than his hand ever could.

K — Kink

Johnny has a hunting kink. It’ll usually start in his shack, he’ll ready himself with no more than a knife and his wits while he ties your hands together and blindfolds you. He’ll help you into his pickup truck and drive out to some field, going for a different spot every time. His favorite time to go is when the sun is starting to set and you’re caught in a golden glimmer of an untended field. Johnny will usually lead you out far enough so that you can’t see the road or his truck, then undo your blindfold and shut his eyes. He’ll start counting to let you know that you have to run, and then the fun begins.

He also has a knife kink. He loves trailing the same blade he’s cut up a thousand people and animals with to trace over your body, debating on whether he should sink the blade into your softer parts like it’s butter or carve his name into you. He isn’t sure how permanent your relationship is yet, so he wants to wait on that.

Lastly, he has a choking kink. Sure, his knife can do wonders and make your body a bloody, painted mess, but nothing beats what two hard-working hands can do. He loves pinning you up against the wall while he’s fucking you, pressing you back against it with one hand wrapped around your neck. If he’s fucking you on his bed, then he’ll use two hands to keep himself steady and control your breathing at the same time. He adores looking down on you, your eyes fluttering and looking weakly up at him as your mouth strains out each moan.

There’s also necrophilia, but he’s stopped that since he met you.

L — Location

Johnny’s not a prude. He can get it on no matter how dirty it is—even if it’s a dirty sunflower field.

M — Motivation

Johnny loves to see how willing you are. He’s used to dealing with victims who scream and cry and beg, and so he grows tired of it sometimes. If he returns to his shack and you’re eager to do the deed with him, he’ll waste no time undoing his belt buckle.

N — No (His turn off basically)

Asking him to be tame. The extreme is his normal. He wants to have primal, animalistic sex with you.

O — Oral

He loves receiving and being the one in control. Though, he will go down on you just to see squirm as he teases you about whether or not to cum. He loves to edge you but hates when you deny him release.

P — Pace

This one could go either way. If Johnny’s fresh off a hunt—whether he was “hunting” you or his actual prey—he’ll play it fast and loose. His thrusts will be sloppy and hard and done without much care with bloodlust filling his eyes. If it’s a night of spending time together in his shack, he’ll take it slow and steady.

Q — Quickie

Johnny adores watching you writhe under him, and quickies don’t provide that satisfaction. He’ll make do with the time he has, but he would rather save it for when he can focus all of his attention on you and him.

R — Risk

He does like to explore, but if it makes him uncomfortable in any way, then he’ll immediately ban it from being brought up again.

S — Stamina

This is another one that depends on the mood he’s in. If his hunts were successful, then you can bet your ass that he’ll be pumping load after load into you for as long as the night lasts, but if it went poorly, he might not be up for it at all. Without hunting, he can usually go two or three rounds before needing to take a breather.

T — Toys

Given the time period, Johnny’s only toys are simply the ones he makes himself. Though, he didn’t have many. One time, he kept a victim’s head in the freezer for a few days when he thought they were really pretty and almost felt guilty for tearing such beauty away from the rest of its body. Needless to say, he felt pretty hot and bothered and needed some kind of relief, so he used their head as a fleshlight.

U — Unfair

As mentioned above, Johnny loves to leave you hanging. He loves to leave you wanting him while he’s perfectly satisfied after each sexual encounter with him.

V — Volume

Johnny’s pretty loud and vocal when it comes to sex. He quips a lot about how good you take his dick and that you’re his “perfect little fucktoy.” He usually grunts instead of moaning, but he has moments when you make him feel so good that he can’t help but make a noise you thought you’d never hear come out of his mouth. His shack is far enough away from the other family homes that he doesn’t have to worry about how loud he is, either.

W — Wild Card

He loves car sex. He’s taken you in many of the defunct cars on Nancy’s property because each is a different experience. The interiors of each vary wildly, some having vinyl seats, others having leather, and a few having cloth. All of them are different colors and range in their condition.

He loves having sex in his old pickup, too. He’s taken you in the bed and even made you suck him off while he was driving. He had one hand on the wheel, an eager foot on the gas, the open road, and the other hand was on the back of your head. Life felt fuckin’ amazing for him in that moment.

X — X-Ray

Johnny is packing an impressive seven inches, which makes for the perfect counterweight for everything he’s carrying in the back. His dick is fairly thick as well, and he is cut with a pretty pink tip. His balls hang decently low and swing when he walks.

Y — Yearning

Johnny spends most of his days hunting or fixing up cars—working up a sweat and pushing his head to the limit with hunting strategies and the puzzling assembly of various cars. He spends all day out in the Texas heat, so he needs to blow off steam almost every day. More often than not, he’ll go at it with you multiple times in one day.

Z — Zzz

Not very quickly. Johnny usually does his routine of getting up for a beer, turning on the radio for some background noise, and getting you bandages or ice depending on how rough he’s been before settling back into bed with you. If something’s really bothering him he might share it with you, but otherwise, he embraces the silence.

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