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creepling · 1 year ago

Text

ME AFTER READING THIS

god this has been in the tbr for TOO LONG but fuck me is it good. johnny is disgusting but dAyum im barking. sissy coming and taking a piece and dipping BE MEAN TO MEEE. sorry. im losing it i love this sm

A PIECE OF MEAT

johnny x reader (est. relationship) | sissy x reader

wc: 7k tw: DUB-CON | NON-CON. bondage. gags. objectification. possession. knife play. blood play. oral sex (m+f). spanking. humiliation. nipple play. slapping. branding. p in v. breeding.

MINORS DNI

a/n: i seperated the sissy section in case anyone wants to skip it. this is my first fic. it may be my last. enjoy :)

It wasn't every day that you were left alone without company. It wasn't every day that you were given the power to tend to the family gas station. One misstep into one of Nubbin's macabre creations left Drayton off his feet, going off about how he can't count on no one around here.

His misfortune opened a door of opportunity for you; Drayton still hadn't warmed up to you completely, so you'd been trying to get on his good side by helping around the house. Hysterical giggles bounced off the walls of the house as Nubbins reenacted the mishap for Sissy and Bubba. The laughter trailed off as you made your way through the house to find Drayton sitting in the living room, his foot being iced by a slice of meat.

"I can't think straight with all this craziness going on," he murmured to himself, rubbing his temples to relieve the tension. Timidly, you approached him, giving a light cough to make your presence known.

"Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Sawyer, but I was just wondering if you were gonna need help with the gas station tomorrow." Gesturing to his legs, you trailed off. "Seeing as you're in no state to be on your feet all day n all."

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes squinting at the proposal. Seeing nothing but sincerity in your eyes, he reluctantly shrugged his shoulders.

"Was thinking of just closing for that day," he hummed, tilting his head to the side, "but money is getting tight with that extra mouth of yours... I don't see why not." Your eyes widen in surprise, thinking he'd laugh at your offer. "Lord knows no one else in this house is competent enough for such a task."

That morning, he reluctantly gave you a ring of keys, slowly walking you through each one and what he expected of you that day. His patronizing tone was unable to dull the excitement buzzing through you; the prospect of spending the day out of the house alone was a once-in-a-blue-moon occurrence. Turning the sign on the door to open, you started your day eagerly, repeating his rules in your head like a mantra.

It turns out all the regulars are dreary or crazed, the morning rush filled with short conversations and confused stares. Leaving the cool confines, you decided to refill the vending machine out front, the heat from the mid-day sun causing a wetness to form on the back of your tank top. A set of large tires rumbling against the gravel pulled your focus from the monotonous task. Turning to greet the customer, your eyes fell on the figure of a young man you'd never seen before.

"Howdy, miss. Sorry to bother you, but I was just wondering if you could help me find my way. I appear to have found myself lost." He stated, raising the map with one hand and the other dragging through his blonde hair to soothe his nerves.

Drawn to his niceties, you smile and nod shyly. "Easy to get lost in these parts, with all the roads looking the same. Where you headed?"

"The Jackson ranch. It's my grandpa's; he needs help with upkeep in his old age. Stubborn bastard says he's fine but thought it wouldn't hurt to stay awhile." He chuckled bashfully.

Truthfully, you didn't really know where this ranch was. You barely knew the area from the house to the gas station. But this was the most interaction you'd had with anyone new in a while; surely it wouldn't hurt to pretend. The map was placed on the vending machine in front of you. You stared at the lines, trying to find your bearings, before a thick finger fell in front of your eyes, marking the gas station. With an awkward laugh, you placed your finger next to his and traced up the road you traveled this morning, trying to recall any ranches nearby. Drayton's voice comes to mind as he scolds Nubbins about straying too close to the graveyard, telling him to go no further than the Jackson ranch. Or was it the Johnson ranch? You bit your lip in contemplation, unaware of the man studying your face.

Deciding that he wouldn't call your bluff, you point close to the graveyard. "Should be around here, sir."

He scoffed at the title: "No need for those formalities; it wounds me seeing a pretty thing like yourself talk to me like I'm withered."

He introduces himself, presenting his hand for you to shake. You offer your name back, heat blooming in your cheeks at the compliment. Questions get thrown back and forth as you get to know each other, a breath of fresh air for both of you. Even the rumbling of a second set of tires isn't enough to drag you out of your bubble. Johnny observes you from the driver's seat as the man leans into you, causing a laugh to bubble from your chest. The movement of the truck door opening draws the man's attention. He cowers at the daggers being thrown his way, knowing he's overstepped in some way.

"I better be off, neighbour. I hope to be seeing more of you soon," he winks. You scoff at his forwardness, turning back to the vending machine as you say your farewell. What you didn't notice was the man lingering behind you as you bent down to grab the warm soda bottles, your denim shorts exposing the softness of your upper thighs. The roar of an engine signaled his departure as you went back to mindlessly refilling the machine, a soft hum filling the silence.

"Who was that?" A voice spoke beside you.

Glass hit the floor with a crash as you brought your hand to settle your startled heart, sticky soda seeping into the black boots of the man behind you. His shadow engulfed you, protecting you from the hot rays. The scowl forming on Johnny's face made you raise an eyebrow.

"Family of the Jackson Ranch; just need some help getting there, s'all," you reassured suspiciously, meeting his eye as you stood. He was standing so close that you could feel the growl emanating from his chest. His hands wrap around your waist, pulling you tight against him.

"You always flirt like a needy whore with boys who need help?" Johnny's breath on your face sent a chill down your spine before settling into your core. Noses centimeters apart, you felt his nostrils flare at the thought. His mocking grin dared you to divulge your fiery heart's desires. Intensity radiates off him as his dark eyes stare you down. A moment passed.

"Only the pretty ones," you coyly provoked. The sudden force of being pushed against the machine winded you, with a strong grip on your throat preventing you from catching your breath. Despite this, a wolfish grin found its way to your face. You'd never seen a jealous Johnny. It was exciting. Responsibilities faded from your mind. Anticipation swirled in your eyes. Before you could poke the bear harder, he dropped his gloved hand from your throat and made his way to the back of his truck. You tried to blink away the confusion, watching him take a couple of jerry cans and fill them up with gas.

Abandoning the safety of the gas station, you tentatively followed Johnny's movement before speaking up, "I was only playing, Johnny. You know I don't have eyes for anyone else." There was a facetious ring to your tone.

You cleared the nerves out of your throat when he turned his back away from you. Rolling your bottom lip into your teeth, you sway impatiently, kicking the dust beneath you, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your frayed top. You desperately tried to come up with something to say as you watched him finish up with the cans, not wanting him to leave upset. As he walks past you, you paw at his shirt, causing him to stop in his tracks. Pleading eyes met void eyes. A whine of his name causes them to glaze over.

"In the truck." He demanded.

"Johnny, you know I can't leave this place unattended. I'd be kicked out quicker than a greased pig." You argued, words going in one ear and out the other.

"Now." He snarled, taking the keys from your pocket before sauntering to the gas station entrance.

Your tongue pokes at your cheek in annoyance, eyes rolling as you muttered curses under your breath. Stubborn bastard. The open sign turns to closed before you can close the truck door. Like a moth to a flame, your eyes meet Johnny's as he brings the engine to life. He turns away, pulling out of the gas station. Eyes not moving, you sit, waiting for the bomb to explode next to you. Johnny has never had control of his emotions.

You bit your tongue waiting for him to start, but your impatience won, causing you to meekly break the silence. "Johnny, I'm sorry. He really just needed help."

The wind whistled through the truck.

"Can't even notice when someone's eyein' ya up like a piece of meat, can ya?" His voice was calm and low—unsettling.

"Johnny, it wasn't like that. He was being neighbourly" you began defending yourself, rolling your eyes at the pending argument brewing.

Your words were met with nothing but a scoff—not the reaction you were expecting. Apprehensively, you glanced over at Johnny, expecting him to be staring back at you. His eyes were glued to the dusty road ahead of him. You could tell he was angry; he's always had a short fuse, but it never felt cold like it did now. Your eyes jumped around his face, desperately trying to understand what his problem was. Did he not trust you? His jaw clenched under your hot gaze, gloved hands tightening around the steering wheel as he adjusted himself in his seat slightly, trying to subdue the feelings buzzing inside him.

You lay your head against the window, hoping the coolness would soothe some anxiety, but you were only met with warmth where it had been out in the sun all day. The silence was more unbearable than the heated argument you expected, receiving nothing but a disapproving click of his tongue every time you tried to break it. A tight knot formed in your stomach as you replayed the interaction over and over. Had you been flirting with him? Sure, you may have smiled more than with the other customers, but they all speak in grunts; it was nice to have an actual conversation with someone. With a sigh, you focus on the fields turning into a blur of dusty yellow, frustration brewing in your chest.

You get broken out of your daze by a door slamming behind you, the vibrations shaking the truck. Your eyes follow him as he walks around the hood, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. A film of sweat has formed on his forehead, dark splotches colouring his shirt, speaking to how much physical work he'd done in the Texan morning heat.

A swing of your door caused a familiar gust of septic and blood to enter your nose—the slaughterhouse, the place where there's more iron in the air than water. Johnny's suede hand gripped your upper arm and pulled you out of the car, slamming the door behind you. He walked onward expectantly before you were able to spit out any questions. You'd never ventured past the parking lot of the slaughterhouse. The questions swirling in your head left you frozen in place, staring wide-eyed at the buildings in front of you. Did I mess up that badly? Was he going to kill me? A whistle echoes through the lot, causing you to lock eyes with Johnny standing in front of the unlocked facility building. A small smirk rose on his face as he watched you obediently scurry across the parking lot, stumbling over the short staircase on the way.

Now face-to-face with Johnny, he brought a hand to brush a loose hair behind your ears, eyes lazily dancing over your face as he read your every thought. You bit the inside of your cracked lip as you tried to do the same. With a light tap on your cheek, he moved out of the heat. You took a deep breath, filling your lungs with air you didn't realise you were depriving yourself of, before following Johnny into the facility building. Quick on his tail, he leads you through the crumbling corridors until you reach the other side. Overgrown weeds tickled at your ankles as you made your way to a worn-down building. It smelt earthier in here, the wooden walls sheltering you from the scalding sun. It wasn't the slaughterhouse he was taking you to; it was the... holding pen?

The question finally falls off your tongue. "What are we doing here, Johnny?"

He crossed his arms, the muscles bulging, as he dragged his eyes across your figure, "Well, darling, if you wanna act like a piece of meat, then imma treat you like one."

Your eyebrows furrowed as he slowly approached you, but before you could contest, he grabbed you by the scruff of your neck, pulling you deeper into the holding pen. He stopped in front of a wooden structure with three holes in it. It was clearly not designed for cattle; it was too small. Your squirming body had no effect on his actions as he unlocked the frame. The pleas falling from your lips dissolved into the thick air as he pushed you forward towards the pillory. Unable to catch your footing, you fell into place, your head and hands now bound by the wooden barriers. Hair fell onto your face, restricting your already limited view. You felt your breathing get heavier in anticipation, the crunch of boots on the dirty floor being the only indicator of Johnny's position.

The feeling of hands on your stomach made you tense. Johnny's fingers hastily unbuttoned your shorts and pulled them down your legs, discarding them in the dirt behind him. A soft huff left his lips as he pulled his knife out of the sheath on his belt. The warm air hits your breasts as he sheds you of your tank top. The only sound you could hear was the blood in your head—the buzzing getting louder as every second passed. You closed your eyes to try and quell the sound, but a strong grip on your jaw opened them instinctually. Johnny's eyes stared into your doe-like ones.

"Got anything to say to me?"

A beat passed.

"I'm so sorry, Johnny. Really, I promise I didn't mean to," you whine out, words melting together, before being hushed by a low chuckle and finger tapping your lips.

He slowly rose from his hunched position as he tutted, "Not quite the answer I wanted, but I guess that's on me. How am I to expect you to know how to use your tongue when you can't even use your eyes? What stupid slut can't tell the difference between a neighbourly gaze and a sexual one?"

He undid the buckle of his belt and unzipped his jeans, revealing the leaking tip of his penis against his stomach. You were dumbfounded. A wave of shame ran through your body as your eyes met the floor, suddenly finding the tracks in the dirt very interesting. Johnny, however, didn't let you get distracted as he grabbed the hair that had fallen over your face and tugged it so your eyes met his. The warm stickiness on your lips made your eyes flutter closed, but a click of his tongue accompanied by a yank of your hair opened them in shock, your mouth following suit. The sharp pain on your scalp made a small gasp leave your lips as he met it halfway. You gag at the sensation of him brushing the back of your throat. The sound trailing off into a soft moan as he began to rut himself into your slack jaw.

"Such a dumb little thing already. Look at me," he demanded. "Does this look neighbourly to you? Is this the kinda thing you'd let a neighbour do to you? Because I know this is all that boy could think about when he saw you."

A harsh slap across your cheek had you shaking your head, eyes wide, pleading in apology. His pace quickened as tears started to prickle in your eyes and a dull ache spread through your jaw. The lack of oxygen made you delirious, causing a low whine to escape around him. The feeling of the vibration coupled with the sight of drool running down your chin caused him to throw his head back and pull harder at the hair underneath his covered fingers. He lets out a low curse before his breath hitches. The smell of musty sweat fills your nose as he buries your face in the coarse hair covering his pubic bone. Squirming does nothing as his cum finally shoots down your throat.

The taste is bitter, but you know better than to spit it out. His hold loosens under your sagging body as he catches his breath, running a hand through his hair. Once the twitching subsides, Johnny slowly pulls out of your mouth, leaving a trail of saliva that connects you both. A choked gasp left you as your lungs begged for oxygen. You croaked out a soft, apologetic Johnny.

"Pieces of meat like yourself don't speak," he tutted as he grabbed your cheeks with one hand, causing you to pout.

You try to focus on your breathing as Johnny buttons up his jeans and wanders to the other side of the pen. Hearing his return, you crane your neck to see what he has—a black bar with a leather buckle. Your mouth opens in question, but Johnny meets the forming words by stuffing the gag bit into your mouth and buckling it around the side of your head. You shake your head, trying to push it out with your tongue. Johnny kneels in front of you, brushing his nose against yours to mimic your struggles before letting out a dark chuckle.

Your body was unable to comply with the buzz of frustration in your chest, forcing you to sag in defeat, blood bubbling with rage as Johnny takes a step back to study your situation. He moves out of your eyesight, the footsteps growing quieter as they move behind you. It's quiet for a moment before his rough, calloused hands start trailing up and down your body, his heedful eye locked on each groove and bump until he reaches your heat. He pokes the dark spot that has formed on your underwear, causing you to twitch and cry out.

"Y'know, I could teach you a thing or two if you just listened. It's a dangerous world out there." He trailed off with a sharp inhale and a slap to your underwear-covered cheeks.

Ripping echoes through the pen as Johnny tears the underwear off your body, leaving you exposed to the elements. A new wave of defiance rolls through your body, kicking and twisting your legs, trying to preserve some dignity. An impatient sigh falls on your back as Johnny grabs some discarded rope in the corner and ties each flailing ankle to a metal loop screwed into the base of the wooden restraint. Now spread and open, he watches you thrash against the new restrictions to see if they'll give.

"You could've made this a lot easier on yourself, darling. Nothin' I ain't seen before," he huffs.

He's right. Johnny has had access to all parts of your body before, but not like this, not when you didn't have access to his. This was new. This was different. Your body started to relax in its hold, as you remember; this is just Johnny. Your Johnny.

Mockingly, a knife starts to run down your spine. "Now, it's time to teach you a lesson."

Despite the trepidation, you slowly nod your head and take a deep breath. Just keep breathing. He trails the knife down your back as if following an invisible guide. When he reaches your lower back, he pushes the knife deeper, leaving a thin, horizontal trail of blood. Johnny's lack of self-control was clear as he licked across the cut he had just made. It always tastes best when it's fresh. In quick succession, he makes more shallow cuts on your back, explaining cuts of meat as he goes: the loin is the most tender meat down here on the lower back; above it are the ribs (perfect for barbecuing); and then we have your cheaper chuck. A trail of prickly fire spreads from your lower back to your shoulders as blood oozes out of all your cuts. You start to become restless as he leans back and admires his work, his hands resting on your hips.

Whimpers escape the gag, causing a smirk to creep onto Johnny's face, "Oh, sweetheart, I'm only treatin' ya like the thing you are," he says, bringing his hand down to your ass to cease your fidgeting. "Besides, we've not gotten to my favourite part yet."

He crouches behind you, one knee deep in the dust. He slowly drags the knife to the underside of your cheek, turns the blade, and pushes a deep cut across, causing blood to trickle down your leg. You buck away from the sensation, gritting your teeth around the gag as you grow uncomfortable. Pain and pleasure start to merge when Johnny starts suckling on the flesh of your thigh.

"This is the shank," he mutters against your thigh. "Used to tenderize it for Mama's stew; said it makes the meat less tough and more succulent."

He held your flesh between his teeth, applying more pressure, until he could feel the blood beneath your skin rushing to the surface. Sweat, blood, and saliva covered your thighs as he took his time playing and fondling. Arousal starts forming in your lower stomach. Fog starts clouding your brain. A muffled moan echoed through the holding pen, telling him you were at his beck and call. His mouth made its way to your sticky cunt, mixing the blood on his tongue with your arousal.

"Leaking like a faucet..." He groans, mouth watering at the thought of your juices.

Enamoured by your scent, he found himself buried in you, his nose prodding at your entrance as both hands wrapped inside and around your thighs to pull you closer. Instinctually, you push yourself towards him in desperation, eager to be relieved. Unable to deny you, his tongue grazed against your clit, making its way up your puffy slit. Two broad fingers followed in its tracks. Johnny's mouth watered at the sight of your glistening folds; a tight squeeze on either side causing more of your excitement to seep onto his tongue.

A guttural moan bounced off the walls when his rough thumb began drawing circles on your clit, his dick twitching at the sound. His mouth replaced his fingers as he latched onto your swollen clit, rolling it against his tongue. You could do nothing but quiver and moan as he spread your cheeks, groaning at the sight. You clenched your fist as if you had hold of his greasy locks, your eyes rolling back as he hummed into your heat. Thighs tightened around his head, spurring him on. He relentlessly lapped at you, like a ravenous dog burying itself in his last meal. Sharp canines scraped against you, the animalistic nature of his actions bringing you closer to the edge. He's hungry for you. An endless spur of nonsense fills the room as your body tightens against his hold. He knows you're about to cum. He always knew what your body wanted. A burning white is all you see as fire spreads through your body. Kneading the flesh in his hands, he let you chase your high, suffocating him with your excitement before melting against his mouth.

A cool, hard sensation against your throbbing pussy pulls you back into reality. Johnny rubs the blood-stained knife up and down your puffy slit, collecting your juices. Twisting the knife in the air, he admires how it glistens in the beam of light leaking through the wall crack before wiping it clean on his bicep and putting it back in its sheath.

Dragging one hand across his chin, the other slides the unbuckled brown leather out of its belt loops. Coolness brushed along your thighs, doing very little to soothe the throbbing marks Johnny left in his wake. Without thought, your hips tilted towards him in submission, making Johnny's chest fill with pride; he almost forgot about the boy at the gas station. Almost. Before you could even register the whipping sound slicing through the air, you felt it—the sharp sting of his belt. The impact caused your body to lunge forward, your knees buckling as you lost control. Johnny had never used his belt like this before; you often traced the insignia on the buckle, wondering where he got such a thing and how long it'd been with him. It felt strangely intimate. Merciless hits leave your head foggy with arousal, each eliciting a gasp, whimper, or wail. A sharp sting spreads its way to your core as tears start to form in the corner of your eyes, slowly making a trail down your face. Despite the brutality of his strikes, your body grew more aroused with each passing welt.

Obstructed, wet sobs harmonise with the sharp cracks of the belt. Your thighs trembled when he suddenly stopped. He traced his finger across the indents he'd just made—the design of his belt buckle marked into your skin. A heavy breath tickled you as he licked into the shallow dents of your skin, savouring the feeling of each divot before pulling away. A soothing coolness was left behind as the wet started to dry. The sound of his zipper made your body buzz with anticipation; your toes clenched at the idea of what was coming. Anticipation turned into confusion as you felt rough hands brushing at the wetness on your face, opening them to see Johnny looking as put-together as he started. As he pulled a hanky out of his back pocket to clean the snot that had fallen from your nose during the anguish, he saw the confusion swirling in your eyes.

A snicker passed his lips before he got up, his eyes never leaving your face. "You ain't leaving just yet, sweetheart." His silhouette grew smaller as he made his way to the doors you both entered. He quickly glanced over his shoulder at your tangled form, "Can't promise I'll be quick."

The air grew heavier in his absence as you sobered to your reality. Without Johnny's distractions, you felt everything. Fatigue took over your body—every muscle in your body ached, your fingers were growing numb. Frustration started to pilot your body as you flailed against your shackles, hoping the ropes would slacken. Noticing a shining latch from the corner of your eye, your fingers searched around the grainy restraint for freedom, but nothing was within reach. You attempt to shout for attention, but the gag still held between your teeth muffles any noise. Maybe Johnny would return quicker if he thought you were in trouble. Maybe he was too far away and someone else would hear you? Did you really want anyone to find you in such a vulnerable position? Tears prickled in your eyes at the thought. A huff leaves your lips as your body sags in defeat. He was right; you did feel like a piece of meat.

Humidity hangs in the air. Hairs are stuck to your damp forehead, itching to be moved. A string of drool connects your bound mouth to the newly formed puddle on the floor. You try to focus on the smell of the stale hay as it fights with the metallic blood in the air—your blood. The grasshoppers and crickets in the field outside are the soundtrack to your humiliation—an incessant buzz to match the numb feeling of blood pooling in your legs. The occasional sniffle breaks the monotony. At some point, your eye hung closed, dragging you into a state of semi-consciousness. Every second is like a minute. Every minute feels like an hour. The growl of an engine alerts you. The sweet call for Johnny that follows confuses you.

"Johnny," The calls get louder as the person approaches: "The old man's threatening to take his stick upside your head if you don't bring back them gas cans."

You chalk the voice up to your state of delirium. There's no one actually here. The figure making its way into the holding pen isn't actually there. You close your eyes as you shake your head in denial. Maybe she won't see you in the corner and move on.

"Oh, you poor little thing," Sissy interrupted your deluded thoughts. "How'd you get yourself all done in like that?"

You lowered your head in embarrassment as she skipped her way across the pen. What are the chances?

"Aw, ain't you a sight?" She cooed as she lifted your head.

Soft fingers brushed the damp hairs away from your eyes, combing out the knots that fought against her fingers. Your swollen eyes were fighting fresh tears at Sissy's caressing touch. Humilitating.

A faux pout formed at the sight: "Did that mean boy leave you tied up like a Christmas ham?"

A hand reached for your chin, forcing you to nod. Unable to muster the strength to defy, you accepted your fate—nothing but a doll in Sissy's playhouse.

"From the moment I saw you, I knew you were special, y'know."

A giggle escaped her lips as she let go of your head and began circling your motionless body, a soft hum letting you follow her position. The sensation of her finger trailing down your spine was so light it felt illusory; her finger snagging slightly against the scabbing cuts.

"Ain't that a pretty view?" Sissy admires the watercolour of purple painted on your thighs. "Just like a blackberry pie."

You felt dizzy at the softness, underwhelmed, and overwhelmed at the same time. The skin under her fingers twitched as it begged for the pressure it had become accustomed to. A fearful whine crawls up your throat as you feel her finger push against your puckered hole, swallowing it as she continues her path. The thrum of your heart pounds louder in your head, the sound suppressing the jovial tunes Sissy crooned. With no patience, two fingers sink into your neglected cunt, a scissoring motion drenching her slim fingers with your juices. Before you could relish in the feeling, it was gone. Her glistening fingers were brought to her mouth.

She hummed as she suckled on them, delighting in the flavour, "Sweeter than one too."

Her words made you dizzy with desire—shame dethroned by pleasure. Your body craved her touch. Sharp fangs peered over her lips as she felt your body gravitate towards her; she wanted to taste more of you. Nimble fingers began picking at the scabs on your back, relighting the fire as blood trickled down your ribs. She lapped at the blood, her flattened tongue tracing your wounds with vigor.

"Look at all this pretty blood," she coos. "Let's see where it leads me."

Her lips followed a trail of red as it dripped down your ribs and across the side of your breast. She crawled under your standing form so she could access the prize at the end of the path, goosebumps forming after every nibble. A soft kiss on your nipple makes your breath hitch. The kisses become fervorous as her lips widen, sucking the flesh into her mouth. Your back arches in a silent plea as she drags her thumb against your free nipple, pebbling against her touch. Fangs scrape against the sore bud as she begins to roll the other between her nimble fingers. A wave of electricity shoots to your core as she bites down.

As she releases you from her bite, she blows on your nipple, her teeth biting her lip in a smile as it hardened under the coolness. Her bony hands cupped both of your breasts as she squeezed and fondled, mesmerized by the way they conform to the shape of her hands, flesh bulging between her fingers. They fell to the ground upon their release, jiggling at the force. Sissy giggled in glee at the sight, bringing her hands to lightly tap at your hanging breasts. The impact causes them to sway as she stares at them, captivated by the movement. Instinctually, you recoil against the feeling, whimpering like a struck dog.

Sissy furrows her brow at the rejection, her voice lowering in sternness. "Stop fightin' it."

She continued her assault, the giggles growing louder as her spanks grew harder. A tingling numbness replaced the burning sharpness as the blood swelled under her hands. Growing bored with your swaying tits, she shoved her face between them, collecting a stray bead of sweat with her tongue, pushing your flesh on either side of her cheeks as she breathed in your scent. Small nips were left in her wake as she trailed her lips back to your nipple. You sigh shakily in relief as her jaw locks around your flesh, the tip of her tongue prodding at your erect nipple, alternating with a flat, pulsating brush of the wet muscle. Her slender fingers supporting your breast massaged the tissue deviously as she pulled you to the roof of her mouth and began sucking vigorously, the flesh rolling with the steady pressure. Unbearable waves of sensation jolted through your body as she relentlessly suckled, coaxing milk to fall from your peak. An enthusiastic groan vibrated against your breast when she could taste you on her tongue, sweet drops trickling on her taste buds like nectar from a wildflower. Confused moans bounced off the wooden walls as your body senselessly rutted towards her. She held you in her mouth as if she were biting into a peach before letting her jaw slacken, relishing in the taste of you. Sweet words fell from her lips as your chest erratically thumped before her but your ears werefull of cotton, oblivious to the praise.

She crawled her way from beneath you, allowing her eyes to devour your shaking, goosebump-riddled form. Her hand began to condescendingly stroke at your heavy head, cooing in faux consolation, "There, there, it's alright. It feels good, don't it, sugar?"

Expecting a reply, the hand in your damp hair tightened. Your motionless body made her yank hard, fearful eyes meeting hers, as she circled to bend in front of you. "Ain't your mama teach you any manners?"

Before you could gurgle your apologies, a bruising slap replaced the hot words that had fallen on your cheek. Your head jolted to the right, dizzying at the feeling. Blinking away the pain, your eyes focus on the blurry silhouette in the door of the holding pen. The feral growl rolling from his chest confirmed his identity. Smirking at the sound, the woman turned around. Mischief twinkled in her eyes as she noticed the darkness in his.

"Ain't your mama tell you not to touch things that don't belong to ya?" He bellowed, his accent growing thicker.

Snickers fell from Sissy's lips as she pressed your cheek against hers. "I don't see your name written on her anywhere," she retorts mockingly, with a small pout on her lips.

Johnny's composure drops for a moment, denting the can in his hand, his growl growing deeper, squaring up for a fight. He knew she was taunting him. It's what she did. But seeing her hands on you blinded him with a primal fury. Your eyes never leave his puffed chest, heart rattling against your own. Sissy concedes with a kiss to your forehead. She skips her way to Johnny, hushed hisses shared between them before she is gone.

Holding Johnny's gaze was a feat; your throat tightening as he sauntered his way over. There's nothing to feel guilty about; it wasn't your fault. But your body didn't listen to the excuses in your brain. A dark shadow cast over your face as Johnny loomed over you, his binding gaze making you a compliant mess.

"She has a point, y'know... ain't nothing here to tell the world who you belong to." He circles your body like a vulture waiting to claim its prize.

His scent engulfs your mind, the fantasies that kept you company in his absence come to the forefront. A sudden click, followed by a low hiss of air, sounded behind you. No, not air, fire. You hadn't noticed the blowtorch in his grasp when he returned. You tried to swallow the bile rising in your throat, unaware of Johnny holding the torch to a branding iron. He watched as the heat revealed a glowing 'J'. Babbling pleas turned to white noise as you felt the residual heat on the iron close to your trembling body. With a satisfied hum, he squeezed the flesh of your ass before pressing the iron against it. Every muscle in your body tensed as wildfire spread through your body, fat tears rolling down your cheeks, attempting to put it out. A scream fought against gritted teeth, vision going white on the verge of blacking out, suffocated by the smell of burning flesh. Crescent moons were carved into your palm as you tried to grab onto nothing. The pain didn't subside as he pulled away, the clang of the disposal bucket never reaching your ears.

"Most prized heifer in Texas." He chuckles, poking a finger at your entrance. "Well, almost. A heifer ain't nothing when she's not bred."

Pain began to melt into pleasure. The desire in your body was louder than any word he uttered. You wanted him to claim you. The instinctual ache in your body wanted to obey his every command. He could feel it. She could feel it too—his thick length throbbing against your own throbbing heat. You couldn't help but rut against him, eager to feel him inside you. A choked cry escaped your throat as teased your entrance. He met your cry with a groan as he slowly pushed himself into you, savouring the warm feeling. Pushing backwards, your back arched in a silent plea, only to be met with his veined hands gripping tightly on your hips, immobilising the movement. You whine at the lack of friction. He towers over your body, pulling your head back so your eyes meet.

"Got anything to say to me?" His question was marked with a single thrust.

You remained silent, knowing anything you said would be incomprehensible. With a sigh, he brings his other hand to unbuckle the drool-drenched gag, letting it fall to the floor. Eyes wide and watery, you let out a raspy apology, your jaw convulsing at the sudden relaxation. He begins to rut into you carelessly.

"Anything else, sugar?" Each syllable was punctuated with a thrust.

To his dismay, your mind goes blank at the pleasure. Whorish moans are now free to dance around the room as your cunt fluttered around him. His hands roam over your back with possessive desire before groping the round flesh in front of him. Rough fingertips digging into the fresh wound, send a new blaze of fire through you.

"I'm yours, Johnny. Only yours." Your sob trailed into a moan as his pace quickened at the confession.

His breath tickles your ear. "Every inch of flesh on your body belongs to me." Dominance seeps through his every word. "Every moan. Every sound. Every thought. You are mine alone."

You're at his complete mercy. The only word that leaves your mouth is his name. You'd do anything for him as his hands do a second lap of your body, trailing down to your sore nipples, twisting and pulling on them with no compassion. Your eyes fluttered closed as the coil in your core tightened.

"Eyes on me, sweetheart," Johnny mumbled, holding your hair in one hand as the other played with your swollen clit. He could play your body like a fiddle, with brutal thrusts and torturous circles in a melodic rhythm. Slamming harder, he could feel you clench against him. He could feel every warm ridge inside you—sharp teeth meeting your shoulder at the feeling. With a primal cry, your coil snapped. Knees buckle beneath you as your slick drips down his cock, marking him with your scent.

He rode out the wave, circling harder and faster on your swollen bud. The sensation was overwhelming, causing you to pull away with a pathetic whine. Your nerves were raw. The resistance made his length twitch inside you, hands landing on your hips, pulling you flush against him, knuckles turning pale. His breathing got heavier as his thrusts got deeper, his tip bruising your cervix, making his grunts feral. He moved one of his hands to your stomach, pushing against the outline of himself, basking in the feeling of his dick abusing your hole. His pace grew needier. His desire became carnal. His sounds became animalistic. The slap of his balls against your clit was agonising, making your mouth fall open with silent moans. He leant back to watch the point where your bodies connected, groaning at the sloppy sound gurgling around him. Over and over, his veiny dick disappeared into you, covered in a sweet cream on its return. His head falls back, the vein in his neck throbbing as he hisses. The feeling of his release made you see stars, circling your hips mindlessly as he grew limp inside you.

He lazily pulled out of you, mesmerised by the thick, white stream oozing from your folds. Your body twitched under his possessive gaze. Overwhelmed, you closed your eyes for a moment of relief. Not even the sound of duct tape ripping could wake you from your blissful daze. Johnny fingers the escaping cum, pushing it inside you. A tacky strip gets slapped over your abused cunt, trapping his seed. With a final tap, he beams at his prize.

"Would win all the county prizes, you would."

#recs #creepling.brainrot #moots

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creepling · 2 years ago

Text

disguised lessons - stepbro! j. slaughter / 1k

well um... i just wrote that on a whim. idk what came over me. i am truly rotted in the brain. so enjoy, i guess?

tags: smut - MDNI. fem!reader. stepbro!johnny. reader loses virginity. ment of pantie sniffing and masturbating. johnny is a manipulative lil shit. praise. oral (m receiving). cowgirl. stomach bulge. possessive. degrading by the end. unprotective sex. hints at an age gap.

Johnny knew the consequences that came with Nancy marrying another man. He’ll disappear like the rest of him, without a trace. But this time, the package came with a cute little step-sister. Naive as they come, you try not to take too much space in the household. When Daddy wasn’t home, Nancy scorned you and made it known you weren’t part of the family. Johnny, however, seemed to enjoy your company. He wanted it a little too much for a step-brother.

Having an older brother after years of being a sheltered-only child was exciting. And his behaviour did not stick out as abnormal but conflicted with your consciousness. Johnny liked touching you. Touch you wherever he wanted. Grazing the small of your back, tuck your hair behind your ear. He teased your blushing. He discovered that you were easy to carry and made it routine to pick you up. To feel your thighs around his waist, your timid hands grip his shoulders for support. He’d chuckle at your whines to put you down.

When he started to get adventurous, he’d test the limits when Nancy and your dad weren’t around—becoming the man of the house when they left for work—snooping in your room when you’re downstairs making lunch, smelling your clothes and beating off to your scent. Going around the house shirtless in the Texan heat, clocking your desperate urge not to feed your eyes on him, making your conflicts worse by lingering in your bedroom, leaning over your bed, the stretch of his abdomen clouding your mind. It was only a matter of time before Johnny would the fuck the slut out of his step-sister.

It all started when you both had the house to yourself for the night. You lay across your bed reading a book. You wondered if he would make his daily trip inside, your stomach tender and topsy. He didn’t bother knocking, causing you to shift as the door creaks open. Johnny walks in. Just wanted to check up on ya. You couldn’t help but smile. He took his regular spot on your bed, spreading along the bottom, holding himself up with his strong arm. Muscles flexing. Your face grows hot.

I’ve been meanin’ to ask ya something, Johnny ponders, his hands fidgeting with the bed throw. Are you a virgin?

You were shocked, slapping your hand on his shoulder. Why would you ask me that?

I’ll take that as a yes, Johnny smirked. All you could do was look dumbfounded.

That’s a shame. Guys your age don’t want a virgin girl. They want them nasty. Trust me, I’d know. I was that age once. Johnny shrugged, trying to hide his smirk at your disappointment.

That can’t be true. Daddy says guys want respectable girls to marry.

Well, your Daddy don’t know everything. Johnny said, his eyes lingering over your body. But I could teach you a few things since I'm your step-brother. Your breath hitches as he moves closer to you, cupping your chin. I could teach you how to fuck properly. How to suck off a guy. How to ride him. It could come in real’ handy when you find that special someone.

Bewitched by his stare, you follow his gaze as you kneel on the bed, watching as Johnny stands up and unbuckles his jeans. It ain’t as scary once you try it, Johnny soothes, patting your head.

Your lips were timid around his tip, moaning surprisingly as he bucks his hips, his cock stuffing your tiny mouth. It’s good to keep eye contact, Johnny grunts, guiding your head for your doe-like stare to fixate on his lustrous gaze. Yeah, that’s it, good girl. Once your mouth salivated, Johnny eased his length inside, holding your head in place. You squeeze your eyes shut, tears streaming. You choke as his tip licks the back of your throat. Yet, you didn’t want to protest, feeling your cunt pulsing at the deep groans escaping Johnny’s mouth. You like my cock, don’t ya lil sis? You might not want another cock after mine.

He taught you all the techniques. How to swirl your tongue around his shaft, open your throat to take him all in, and massage his balls. Giving the puppy-dog eyes that drive him mad. He could feel himself growing close to a climax, so he pulled out of your swollen mouth and picked you up in his arms. How’s about time I show you how to fuck good, ay girl?

You cradled his lap, his hands exploring your body, lurching his lips around your nipples. He holds you in place as you whimper, squirming as he attacks your sensitivity. Positioning his cock under your dripping cunt, Johnny guides your hips to sink on his length. His eyes glazed as he watched the shock on your face.

Johnny, it hurts- You protest, but his hands are keeping you firmly in place. Your legs shake, whining at the pain of his cock filling you.

It’s okay, darlin’. You’ll get used to it, Johnny says, caressing your cheek. There, it’ll soon go away. You’ll enjoy it, I promise.

You soon get used to his length, the pain washing away. It began to feel like a pleasurable ache, the knot in your stomach gradually coming undone. You look down at Johnny’s immersive hands on your waist, guiding your hips to grind down into him. Your back arches, and you sigh a moan, easing yourself into it.

That’s it, you’re doing good. Keeping doing that, Johnny reassures. He leans back and lets you take full reign, gazing at the perky breasts pressed together, your hands on his chest. You move in places to feel comfortable, running your walls up and down his cock, moaning as his length pumps into you. He felt so good, and you felt ashamed to enjoy it. Your step-brother’s cock fits inside you so perfectly, and he looks at you in a way you desire to be looked at.

Johnny was in bliss, his fingers pressing against your stomach, feeling the bulge of his cock inside you. It drove him crazy, seeing his innocent little step-sister riding his cock. You’re a natural, He breathed out. Keep riding me like that, and I’ll make it a habit.

And he did make it a habit. Every single day. Giving you daily step-brother lessons on how to fuck good. How someone should fuck you, pleasure you into oblivion. Encouraging you to lean into your lustrous instinct and become available to him. It became more than just pleasing your future man and more about how to pleasure him.

No other guy’s cock will be better than your big brother’s, Johnny would grunt into your ear, bending you over the bed and drilling into you. He fucked you anywhere he pleased, in the bed, in the shower, on the couch. Johnny couldn’t contain himself around you. He liked it when you were home alone, so you could be as loud as you wanted. The more you gave yourself to him, the more he gave into his rough instincts. His praise turned degrading, and his thrusts fucked you into becoming a slut for his cock. Look at you, desperate for stepbro's cock, Johnny teased you. You give him into him every time. That’s what good step-sisters are for, right? Who knew you were such a little whore? God, ain’t I glad I came into your room. I would’ve missed out on this nice little pussy.

#johnny slaughter x reader #johnny sawyer x reader #tcm game #johnny tcm #texas chainsaw massacre #smut #creepling.brainrot #cw stepcest #tw stepcest

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creepling · 2 years ago

Note

Johnny fucking Stockholm’d!Reader in the back of one of the old cars behind the family house? 👀 In one of your mini fics you mentioned him taking her out to the sunflower fields, maybe that’s when it happens?

busted cars and sunsets - j. slaughter / 1k

an: hey i kinda went astray from relating it to the sunflower field drabble but it still has all that other good stuff you asked for!! i also ended up writing more than i thought so i hope you like it<33

tags: smut. MDNI. gn!reader. stockholm syndrome (kinda??). descriptions of trauma. canon-mentions of violence and cannibalism. innocent, sheepish reader. johnny is surprisingly gentle and nice?? but it might be a bluff. making out. grinding. fucking in a car. doggystyle. mentions of kidnapping.

Johnny was looking everywhere for you. Nancy was calling for supper, and you weren’t in the shed like you said you would be. He tried not to think about it too much, the thought of you running away or trying to escape. Maybe you got distracted or went inside for a drink. The sun was setting, and Johnny’s worrying crept up, forming a lump in his throat.

You were sheepish. At least you have been with the Slaughter family. Every minor squeak or crack sent you scattering. Maybe it was the trauma of trying to escape the house, the first time you ate human flesh, or the fact that the family kidnapped you. It’s been so long since the incident that you have begun to accept your fate and grow fond of your captures. Are people still looking for you? Or have they given up like they did with Maria? The thoughts clouded your mind, and you hugged your legs in the back of the rusted car in the Slaughter’s yard.

Johnny realised real quick where you were hiding. He noticed that you liked hiding, growing attached to your company. Johnny wished you grew attached to him, but adjusting to a new life takes a while. That is how he perceived it: you were lucky, the family liked you, and they spared your life. Now you’re one of them, and he can make you happy. Johnny made his way towards the cars, the ones too far gone to fix, and peered inside the busted-out window to see your trembling frame.

“Hey, sweetheart. Why you all bundled up in here?” Johnny said, surprisingly, in a soothing voice. You peeked your head up, giving a meek smile. You like it when he speaks softly. It is the only thing that makes you feel safe. His effort on tenderness is bearable, given the circumstances.

“Nubbin’s trap set off while I was picking flowers. I got scared,” You say. Johnny knew you were telling the truth from the look in your eyes. He motioned his hand to your ankle, checking for injury. “Don’t worry,” You reassure, cringing, “It didn’t get me.”

Johnny let out a stressful sigh. “That darn idiot. I’m gonna beat him over the head,” Johnny spat under his breath. He looked over at you, seeing you back into the corner as he displayed anger. He relaxed his cold stare and slowly opened the rusty door, sliding into the seat next to you and resting his hand on your knee.

“You got nothing to be scared about. No one’s gonna hurt you no more. Nubbins is just being reckless with his traps. Y’know, he puts them around to catch the rabbits.” Johnny reassures, levelling with reason in hopes you calm you down.

You sat silently until another call for supper came from inside the house. You looked at Johnny, twiddling a piece of string from your shirt. “I’m not really hungry,” You mutter, “Sorry…”

Johnny nodded in understanding, rubbing your calf with a gentle stroke. “That’s all right, darlin’. You can eat whenever you feel like it,” He knew Nancy wouldn’t like that much, but he certainly would protect you if she nagged you for it.

“Can we stay in here for a while? Watch the sunset?” You enquire, the thought of it making you smile. Appreciating the small things became a method to keep your sanity. It also made excuses for being around the house, a place you find troubling.

“Alright, but we go inside once the sun’s down, okay?” Johnny reasoned, and you nodded happily.

You crawl over to Johnny and rest your head on his chest, spotting the sun meeting the horizon at your eye level. Johnny only had his eyes on you, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair, his tongue sliding along his bottom lip in thought.

“It’s beautiful,” You mutter, charmed by the colours in the evening sky.

“You’re beautiful,” Johnny claimed, his body sensing bashfulness prevail over you.

You look into his eyes, a slight smirk on Johnny’s face as he admires your innocence. Subconsciously, Johnny’s lips lean closer to yours. You stood still like time was frozen, fluttering your eyes shut when he kissed you.

He was rough but passionate as if to prove something to you. His hands explore you, cupping the back of your neck, grasping your thighs, tracing circles on the small of your back. You would be lying if you didn’t find it pleasant, giggling as he nibbled on your bottom lip, whispering sweet nothings. Your hips grind against him, feeling Johnny’s hot breath on your cheek as he gasped.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, darlin’,” He chuckled, “You’ll get me worked up,”

“I can’t help it,” You laughed, your words conflicting with your innocent tone.

“Keep going,” Johnny purred, resting his hands on your waist and guiding your hips. You comply, watching the lustful stare in his eyes as he admires the movement of your body. You hike your shirt up, teasing him as you expose your stomach, slowly raising it until your chest greets his stare. Johnny gazes longingly up at you before entangling you into his hands and kissing you roughly.

“I need you so bad,”

The sun was greeting the horizon, the sky a deep tangerine, matching the tarnished colouring of the car. Your hand presses against the window, and a deep moan breaks loose from your confounded expression.

“Keep going, please, please-” You plead, gripping the busted leather seats to adjust to Johnny’s length inside you.

Johnny hunches over your body, teeth scraping down your spine, holding you in place with his rough hands. Estranged strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Sweat highlights the arc of his muscles.

“You’re so good for me,” He pants. He had to make this quick; otherwise, the family would set out looking for him. He feels you tightening around him, making him bend further down and grip your shoulders, burying his face into your neck.

Johnny’s groans grew husky, sending shivers down your spine. Arching your back, you grind into him. The profoundness of his cock inside you makes you fumble over your moans.

“Yes, baby. That’s it,” Johnny encouraged, rutting into you. “Keep fucking going.”

The rate of Johnny shagging into you eventually lends him his climax, and yours perfectly lines up with his. Both of your clothes are hanging by threads on your bodies. You collapse in each other's arms. His arms engulf you as you straddle his lap, your eyes drunk with lust, admiring your kidnapper, your disastrous love affair.

“You’ll never leave me, will you?” Johnny asked, staring into your soul, soaking in everything about you.

“I would never,” You breathe out.

“Promise?” Johnny pleaded, brushing a strand of hair from your glistening face, basking in your doe-like glow.

“I promise,” You whisper, kissing the scars on his knuckles. Your mind goes astray, maybe from the lustrous high or because you made a promise you might not keep.

#johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter #johnny sawyer x reader #johnny sawyer #tcm game #texas chainsaw massacre #creepling.brainrot

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creepling · 2 years ago

Text

that boy is a monster - j. slaughter / 2.6k

in contribution with THE HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompts: sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)

summary: everyone comes and goes from the slaughter residence, either as survivors or stacks of meat. but as you escape and run further into the woods, johnny won't let you go that easy.

tags: DEAD DOVE - read at your own risk. smut. MINORS DNI. fem!reader. non-con. hunter/prey. knife/blood-play. descriptive injury. narcissistic johnny. fem penetration. blood hunger. choking. roughplay. slapping. kidnapped ending.

It would help to know the surroundings. Sprint the track to get to the finish line. But you’re bleeding. Your legs ache, and the tree branches are tearing at your skin. The calls of the Slaughter family echo in the distance.

Running for your life is supposed to be the escape. You’re out of the house, but your heroic end is not at a close. You have to keep running. You have to survive. And one person, in particular, will not give you up so easily.

“You’re the reason this is happening. You brought them damn kids here. You go get ‘er!” Drayton told off Johnny, waving his bloody stick towards the exit you stumbled out of.

Johnny was cool in his stance. He is cleaning his knife, sharpening its blade. He admires the glint of it in the moonlight, a sly smirk winking back at him in its reflection.

“Keep yer panties on, old man. I’ll get her,” He brushes off the Cook, swaggering towards the gate.

With his family seeing him off, Nubbie chuckles and cheers him on. Sissy claps and howls. “Bring her back fresh now, ye hear!”

Johnny was not going to share. He wants to play with his food and keep you all to himself. Once he finds you, you’re going to scream. He will have your insides, grip your flesh and suck your blood. His family will not have a nip of you. You’re all his.

The beginning of the hunt sent Johnny’s instincts into overdrive. Your shadow mystifies into the forest, and he picks up the pace to dive into the belly of the beast. He grunts as he sprints, inhaling the air. He was only human, but everything in his attitude was animalistic. A coyote in a man’s body, wanting to catch your scent, embarks on the trail you left behind and chases you until your soft flesh is between his teeth.

Deep within the sun-dried trees, Johnny halts his speed and listens to the silence. He peered his hearing for the snap of a twig, the ruffle of a leaf, anything to assume you were close by. He crouches to the earth and calculates the ground. His eye caught an indent, your shoe print heavy in the dry dirt, the heel dragged out, exposing your struggle. Johnny was mesmerised for a moment, then he advanced, tailing the track of your footprints to the direction of your hiding spot. He arrives at a dead end, cursing under his breath. He catches a look above, checking the trees, but both the trees and you are too fragile to hold weight. His eyes scan the horizon, wondering how far you have gone.

“I’m gonna find ya soon enough, sweetheart. Why don’t you come out, and we can get this over with?” Johnny called into the night, his skin tingling at the thought of you nearby.

He was closer than you thought. Tugged low in the dip of the earth, you bite the inside of your cheeks and muffle any sound of panic that threatens to burst. You may be bleeding, tired, and traumatised, but you will not give up. If he wants you to meet the same faint as your friends, he will have to come and get you.

At the deafening silence, Johnny sighs. It was long and drawn, but it soon shifted into a chuckle, and he gripped the handle of his knife tighter. “Fine, I like the challenge.”

Johnny advances, his footsteps descending to whisper when you decide to leave your hiding spot. You drag your limping body in the opposite direction, clenching your side as a cramp takes over. You look around with alert eyes, hoping to find an opening or another hiding spot if he is close. Your hope dwindles at the same scenery repeating: trees, branches, dirt. Over and over. No sounds alert you, making your eyelids droop and blur your vision. You look down at your body, your clothes drenched in blood, giving sense to your lightheadedness. The blood loss and dehydration were slowly creeping up and taking over you. Legs wobbling, making you fall.

“Come on,” You whispered, “You can do this.”

Johnny had his eyes on you. He watches you struggle, crouching within the dry branches. Your pain and fatigue amuse him, reassuring him that mortality can be handy for this line of passion. He loved a prey’s fear, how it ignites them with the endurance to keep living. Yet, the thing that is chasing them will always catch them. It can only get them so far. It lets them die with a fight still in them. People call that honour, but to Johnny, it is the thrill of the game.

It has been long enough. Johnny watches you collapse, grunting at the pain taking over, your knees buckling as you try to crawl your way further. Johnny cracks his neck and readies his blade, his heavy steps approaching you.

“I gotta hand it to ya. You got some fight in ya,” Johnny mused, towering over your struggling state.

The widening of your eyes made Johnny chuckle, tuts leaving his mouth as you began to sob.

“Come on now, I ain’t gonna kill ya. Not yet, anyway,” Johnny grips the back of your hair, yanking your head from the ground and crouching down on top of you. His legs saddle your sides, squeezing in to hold you in place. You catch the glint of his knife hovering over your throat, threatening to slice if you struggle.

“Ma mama always got at me for playing with my food as a kid. I never grew out of it. Y’know why?” Johnny presses his lips to your ear. You could now hear the husk in his voice.

“Because I fuckin’ love it,”

Your hands grip the earth, and a scream bellows from your strained throat, sirening through the trees, making birds take flight. Johnny shoves your head to the ground to silence you, pressing his blade tighter to the skin of your throat.

“You shout one more time, and I’ll cut you,” He spat, causing you to dwindle your struggle into small whimpers.

“Just kill me, please,” You plead, Johnny on top of you, detecting that you would rather be dead than be at his mercy.

Johnny enjoys having the upper hand far too much, grazing his gloved hand down your spine, lingering on the skin exposed from your summer blouse. He glances at the cuts littering your exposed arms, blood dripping from a knick on your shoulder. Johnny licks his lips in anticipation, locking his lips on your wound. You gasp, cringing at the suction from his mouth, his tongue swirling around the cut and soaking his mouth with your blood.

As if energy surged through him, Johnny groans at your taste, licking his lips dry. Your taste is sweetly metallic. He has never tasted something so pure—the blood of a lamb or a calf, laced with innocence and avoidant of bitterness. Johnny’s eyes wander down at you like the discovery of the Holy Grail. “You taste amazing.”

Johnny grips your arm and manhandles you to lie on your back, your arms feeble in your struggle. Johnny scans your body for more wounds, grunting in annoyance as most were muddy grazes. His legs add pressure to your sides, his hand nipping at the hem of your blouse.

“Keep still,” Johnny orders sternly, moving his knife to your shirt and cutting the thin fabric with the blade. You whine in defiance, but your top is torn off completely and tossed to one side. Johnny stares at the curvature of your bra, tucking his knife under the band and slicing it swiftly. Your breasts graze with goosebumps at your exposure. You squeeze your eyes shut from the humility. Johnny runs his knife down your left breast, the blunt end teasing your hardening nipple.

“You are a sight for sore eyes,” He breathes out, removing his glove with the pinch of his teeth. His bare, rough hand grips your breast, making you squirm. You glance up at Johnny, the maddening of his eyes, the flex of his muscles as he holds you in place. Sweat glistens on his face. You feel warmth between your legs as Johnny’s bulge presses against your stomach.

Without warning, Johnny slices a small incision on your soft breast, making you gasp from the shot of pain. Johnny immediately locks his lips on the fresh slice, his tongue collecting your new blood, letting a groan vibrate against you. He sucks your breast as he would with your nipple, except his infatuation is solely on your blood. Your fingers lace through his hair, and you attempt to yank him away, but he points his blade quickly to your throat.

“Move your hand, or I’ll cut you open,” Johnny threatens, pressing the blade hard, alerting panic within you.

“I can’t- I can’t do this, please,” You beg, “I want to go home,”

“Is this not want you want, darlin’?” Johnny teased, “Your cunt says otherwise.”

His head motions down and between your legs, sliding his fingers along the denim fabric of your shorts. Your throat hitches, and your legs tense, locking eyes with the darkening stare from Johnny.

“You want this, I know you want this,” Johnny mutters against his lips, “Let me make you feel good. I need this, darlin’, you gotta give yourself to me.”

His lips lock roughly with yours, his kiss hard - possibly laced with a lingering passion. You taste your blood on his tongue. You moan unexpectedly.

“See? You taste so good. Let me taste you more,” Johnny said as if he were asking, but you know you have no choice.

The sound of panic bubbles in your throat as you feel Johnny’s hands unbutton your shorts, yelping as he tugs the tight fabric down your legs. He crawls his fingers under your pants, catching your slick cunt with the tip of his fingers, collecting your wetness. Johnny groans, reaching his fingers to his lips and licking your juices. Just as sweet as your blood, warm and intoxicating.

Johnny grinds his hips down onto you before unbuckling his jeans, tossing his belt to your eye level. Your eyes trail to the sky, your mind dissociating at the sound of his jeans undone. Johnny preys your legs wider apart with his thighs, the tip of his cock at your entrance.

“You’re so wet for me, darlin’. Still sure you don’t want this?” Johnny’s pride swells at your defeat, pupils dilated at the sight of yours glazed and lost.

“I would rather be dead,” You said airily, almost inaudible. Johnny narrows his eyes, power swelling in his muscles. He wants you to beg for his cock or mercy; it does not matter.

Without warning, Johnny thrusts his cock inside, and pain shoots up your spine. He was big, more significant than you have ever taken, and he was stretching you out. You squeeze your eyes shut, and the tears trapped in your waterline pour down your cheeks. You silence the yelps filled with pain to adjust to the horrible feeling. But your cunt was wet, wet enough for Johnny to thrust deeper inside you and hold his length firmly inside you.

“Fuuuck,” Johnny groaned. Your walls clenched around his cock, and his hands grip the sides of your waist. “Sucha tight little pussy,” Johnny chuckled.

You shift your body back and forth to adjust to the pain, but it paralysed you, and Johnny drilled you deeper into the ground with the weight of his body. The cool earth stings your wounds and gathers in the grooves of your skin. It is disgusting. It is revolting. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole. “Fuck you,” You spit at Johnny, manifesting your cunt to grow teeth and bite his cock clean.

Johnny furrowed his brows at your revolt, burning a glare to your core. “The fuck you say to me?” Johnny smacked your face, stunning you, but you force eye contact.

“I said fuck you, you fucking-“ Your rage stopped short at the shuddering pain shooting through you. Johnny digs his knife into your side, toying with an open wound. You squirm, scream, try to pry him off you, but his other hand pins your wrists above your head, and his cock is stuffed deeper inside you.

“You really think talking to me like that is a good idea?” Johnny scoffs, watching the pain in your expression with perverted fascination. “Such a stupid ‘lil brat. I need to teach you a lesson.”

The pain melted into numbness. Your eyes drift further away from reality, and Johnny amps his stamina. It seemed neverending, his cock pumping into your cunt, the depth of his thrusts consistent. Johnny’s body towers over you, his knife tossed to the side. It proved useless as your body grew limp, the strength of Johnny’s arms pinning you in place enough to restrict your escape. No more were you retaliating to Johnny’s dominance.

“That’s it, good girl. Take it,” Johnny grunted, but he was not satisfied with your reaction. Lying there as you get fucked dumb, staring into space. He needs you to be compliant, to be grateful. Johnny tugs your hair and forces your gaze onto him, bathing in your bewildered stare.

“C’mon girl, I know you want this. Say how much you want it,” Johnny demands, continuing to rut into your pulsing cunt.

“I-” It was hard to string words together, but you had nowhere to look except deep in Johnny’s hunter eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“Say it, fucking say it,” Johnny grew impatient, smacking his fingers over your cheeks, hoping that knocked sense into you.

“I want you, Johnny,” You sobbed, mesmerised by his insanity.

“Yeah, you fucking do. Start thanking me for fucking you so good,” Johnny enfolds his cock deep inside, holding it in place until you speak what he wants to hear.

“Thank you,” You swallow the lump in your throat, “You’re so good at fucking me. I want you to keep fucking me.”

Swelling with pride, Johnny exhales a deep groan and continues to drill into you, picking up the pace. He felt his climax ascending from his core, gazing at the bounce of your tits, your plump skin covered in the blood he poured from you. He bites the inside of his cheek.

“I’m so close, darlin’. Fuuuck,” Johnny wraps his callous hand around your throat, suppressing your air flow until you see stars.

Johnny rutted his cock to ride his high. You feel the strips of warmth melt from your slit as he pulls out, his pants hot and misty against your neck. Your eyes trail over to Johnny, buckling his jeans and quickly putting on your underwear and shorts.

“Sorry about your blouse,” He mutters, removing his tank top and putting it on you. There is no point in convincing yourself he did it out of the kindness of his heart, as it is to carry you back to the place you tried to escape from and not make the rest of the family suspicious.

Johnny lifts you and tosses your body over his shoulder, your mind and body too exhausted and petrified to wiggle from his grasp. “Let’s take you back home,” He says.

Home. That place was not your home. But to Johnny, he is making it your home. There goes the days of elaborate escapes, deception and retribution. He will have you wrapped around his figure. He shall convince you that no one else cares for you. Only he will protect you, care for you, and love you.

Welcome to the family.

#johnny slaughter x reader #johnny sawyer x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #tcm game #johnny sawyer #johnny slaughter #creepling.brainrot #tw non-con #tcm fanfic #hauntedhoedown

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creepling · 1 year ago

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they will have to lock me up after reading this jfc. i’m one brainrot away from hunting and gathering for this man, give him my first born and slay his enemies. the unrelenting feelings i have for him are a danger to society. Thank You, OP, my delusions have been fed🫡

Captain Boomerang/Female Reader - Breathless

Summary - During a fuck session, Digger wraps his arm around your throat.

His stiff forearm snakes its way around your neck and you moan while tilting your head back to give him easier access as your cunt clenches around his cock. He's like a force of nature, intense strength pinning you to the floor in such a way that you can feel him encasing your body like a beer-soaked cocoon - the scent of sweat cheap cologne strong as hell.

"Digger-" You wheeze out, his skin slapping against your own rhythmically as he hollows you out - his thick cock battering against your cervix with such a delicious discomfort that you can't help but shudder under the insatiable heat of his body.

Forearm now pressing roughly against your throat, he flexes the muscles there - hard and as unyielding as wood - and immediately you find your air supply being cut off by the pressure. It's euphoric and your body struggles against the loss of air as your cunt squeezes desperately around his cock as you strain to take in a solid breath.

"So fucking tight, doll." Digger growls, the words slurred and panting due to his exertion. "Fuck, if ya squeeze any tighter I think you'll chop it off. Fucking hell." He draws the final word out into a growl.

He lets up just enough to allow fresh air to flood your lungs as you cough and splutter, throat burning from the sudden onslaught of abuse even as you push back frantically against his punishing cock.

"More." You groan out weakly, hand scrambling behind your back to grip at his hand as it presses harshly against your lower back - keeping you mercilessly pinned.

"Fuck." He slurs out, dipping down until his blunted teeth press against the curve of your shoulder and you feel him bite down, a delicious ache spreading from the mark as the muscles there twitched. "I'm gonna tear you apart - can feel it," Digger speaks almost brokenly as his forearm grows stiff against your throat once more, "the stretch."

Unable to speak as the lack of oxygen rushes in your ears with the churning violence of an uneasy ocean, it's enough to push you over the edge and you come around his cock. Cunt spasming, your blurred vision dances dangerously for a second as a choked scream of pleasure is strangled by his arm - his own bestial grunts replacing the weakly squeaking sound.

Buried fully within you, he loosens his grip as you start to come down from your release; the mess of your cunt mixing with his pre-cum to leak down your thighs as you shudder and twitch in place.

"Don't get too relaxed, baby." You can hear the smirk in his words as Digger's hands instead grip themselves onto the flesh of your hips as he anchors you to his body, giving no possible room for escape. "I'm still cracking a fat and I'm gonna ruin ya for any other poor bastard."

Already feeling the beginnings of overstimulation making your cunt feel heated, you groan out a pathetic noise which pitches into a whine as his hips start up their punishing pace once more.

#ssktjl #recs #creepling.brainrot #captain boomerang x reader

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creepling · 2 years ago

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the slaughtered lamb - johnny slaughter / <;1k

tags: smut. MINORS DNI. fem/afab!reader. dom!johnny. implied stockhom syndrome. sharing a bed. male receiving foreplay. praise. use of pet names. deep throat. possessive. fem penetration.

It ain’t so bad, is it? Johnny asked, gently lying on his bed, caressing the back of your head as you leaned into the pillow.

What’s all this about, Johnny? You asked. It wasn’t every day he let you out of the basement, where you had to spend your days.

I feel right terrible keeping you down there. But you know I gotta, don’t you? If you were up here all the time, looking as lovely as you do, my family would try and hurt ya. I can’t let that happen, Johnny reassured, but today’s a good day. There ain’t no one around. Everyone is sleeping.

That’s nice of you. Thank you, you whispered, kissing his hand gently.

Johnny let you wash up for bed and gave you fresh sleepwear. As he took his clothes off, soaked in sweat from the Texan heat, you lay in bed witnessing his bare chest on display. Lightly toned, the definition clear on his arms and torso. He noticed you staring and sent a smirk your way. Unbuckling his jeans, making sure you took him all in, he slid them off and stood in his underwear. A blush erupted on your face.

I sleep like this. You don’t mind, do ya? Johnny asked, basking in your fluster.

You shook your head, cutting out your stares and laying back into bed. Johnny slid next to you and flicked off the lamp. In the darkness, you shuddered as Johnny’s body heat radiated through your back.

This is nice, Johnny whispered, his lips close behind.

You mumbled in agreement, mentally anticipating Johnny to come closer to you. The thought of his touch makes your body grow hot. Almost reading your mind, Johnny traced his fingers along your side, causing a shudder to come over you.

I am one lucky guy, having you next to me, he mumbled, pressing his touch to feel the curve of your side. His lips hovering over your neck, eyes half-lidded.

You exhaled, reaching your hand to cup his face, inviting him to kiss your neck. His teeth crazed your sensitive spot ravishingly, causing you to let out a breathy moan. For a moment, he pulled away, shushing you gently.

We can’t wake up the others, you hear. I need you to be quiet for me, He contested.

His hand snaked to your clit and tucked between your legs to test your ability in silence. Feeling your warmth, Johnny shuddered and bucked his hips closer to you. You felt his length press against you and calculated his size, how far he can go, how much he can stretch. You mewled into your hand and pushed your entrance into Johnny’s hand, the feeling of his fingers satisfying the hunger building inside you.

My God, look at you—such a pretty sight.

Johnny had you kneeling, your eyes peering up at him like a lost puppy. His hand massaged his length over his boxers' fabric, admiring your submissive state. The overwhelming feeling of catching prey overtook him, and he began pulling down his boxers to reveal himself. His dick sprung across your face. You gulped in anticipation.

You took him exceedingly well, taking both of you by surprise. Johnny’s head fell back, and he exhaled a long, satisfied breath. But he knew he wanted to pick up the pace. He liked it rough – and fast. His hands bolted behind your head; he sinks into your warm mouth. Your gasp is stuffed and muffled. It slides down, his tip touching your throat.

Fuuck, baby. Yeah, that’s more like it. Your hands grip his thighs and push forward, but your slick slit drips on the hardwood. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you take him all in. Johnny’s cock leaves your mouth with a pop. You gasp for air. Begging for more, your tongue licks his shaft.

Johnny grips your hair, and with a yank, your mouth is agape. That’s it, good girl. His cock enters again, your mouth rimmed along his girth, his protrusive vein sliding along the corner of your lips. Fucking you into oblivion. Tears swell in your eyes, your vision is blurred, and you accept the fate to be ruined and perversely satisfied. Saliva pools in your mouth and drips down your chin.

You are halted and thrust onto the bed, your bare back exposed to Johnny erect and pumping his cock with a firm fist. Perking your slick cunt, you let out a pathetic whine for him to fill you. Johnny trails a finger over your sopping walls, running his tongue along his bottom lip.

I like this side of you, begging for me. Johnny whispered with bated breath, completely feral for your tight, soft body to be his possession—such a pretty little bunny.

Burying your face into the sheets, you squeak from the adjustive pain of Johnny entering you. Barrelled deep within you, your walls tightening around his cock, Johnny doubles over and grunts into your ear. You know what this means, huh? You’re all mine now.

An entanglement of whimpers and mewls escapes your mouth as Johnny performs harsh thrusts into your pussy. Groaning with every pump inside you, he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, reminding you that you are the one below, and he is the one on top. My pretty little thing. You’re all mine now, no one else can have you. Gripping your hips, pinning you deeper into the mattress, hunting for the most profound part within you to fuck his cock into. Yeah, that’s a good girl. You take me so well.

#johnny slaughter #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny tcm game #texas chainsaw massacre #fanfic #creepling.brainrot

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creepling · 2 years ago

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johnny slaughter drabble. nsfw. stockholm syndrome. fem reader.

having stockholm syndrome for johnny would be hot crazy as fuck. you’re the only victim that doesn’t get hurt or unalived bc johnny is crazy for you. threatening the other slaughters if they try to lay a finger on you. he never lets you out his sight, he sleeps with you, bathes you, sits next to you at dinner. he binds your wrists not bc he thinks you’ll try and escape but he’s highkey turned on.

he’ll comb your hair or bring you food and constantly needs affirmation. you’ll never try and escape, will you darlin’? good girl. he takes you to the sunflower field because he knows you like it, and when the house is out of sight he grips his hands onto your waist, nuzzling his nose into your neck, breathing in your scent. you’re gorgeous, you know that? he mumbles into your ear, his hand slowly hiking up your summer dress and touching your bare thighs. god, i love you. my little sunflower. his fingers crawl closer in between your legs. he smirks as you moan.

yeah, that’s it. take it, take it.

#johnny slaughter #johnny slaughter x reader #tcm game #texas chainsaw massacre #johnny tcm game #drabble #creepling.brainrot

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creepling · 1 year ago

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fucking johnny slaughter in the back of a truck

i got inspired by some exclusive jispooks nsft art of johnny and i self-indulged with a drabble. if they decide to post it on their socials i'll drop a link in the replies. for now, i'll let you enjoy this<33

tags: smut - minors dni. fem reader. orgasms. oral (f receiving), overstimulation. commando johnny. big dick. doggy. choking. spanking. exhibitionism. dacryphilia. degradation. rough. biting. bloodplay. 731 words.

“Wait- Wait- I said wait- Fuuck,”

You whine out your second high, legs shivering in ecstasy as you fail to keep yourself upright. Sinking deeper into the metal surface of the truck’s back, Johnny rode your high, pinning your thighs by your sides to devour your pussy to its sensitive core, his eyes studying you through dark lashes.

He insisted that you spend the night with him like this. His truck parked between dark woodlands, a diner’s neon light ambient through the tree leaves, where your eyes fluttered from lightheadedness. The lights blurred a visual glow of blue and red coursing through your body. Letting Johnny have his way with you, to give physicality to all those sly stares. Giving into his rough hands, groping your thighs under the table during dinner, the rough kisses in the parking lot, barely making it back to the truck before ripping your clothes off. It’s what you owe him since he took you out for a nice meal and was such a gentleman.

Granting you two orgasms was tactical on Johnny’s part. He wanted you completely numb, prepped for the growing hunger inside him. His jeans were tight, the bulge big enough to break the zip. As you mewled under his frame, he pinched the hem of his shirt between his teeth, unbuckling his belt and releasing his cock from the scraping restraint of his jeans. He sighs in relief, beckoning your hands to wrap around his cock.

“You want this inside you, sweetheart?” He growled, smirking at your rapid nods. “Want me to fill you up real nice, uh?”

He pushed his shirt to one side, exposing the jagged curves of his abdomen, his nipples hard from the outside air. He flipped you onto your front without warning, earning a gasp from you that was snuffed out by his hand wrapping around your neck. He aligns his cock up to your glistening cunt, entering with one swift thrust. Your breath hitches.

“Johnny fuck- It’s too big,” You were close to screaming, your fussing mixed with moans. You attempt to retreat, realising he isn’t entirely inside you yet. Your eyes widen.

“C’mon baby, you can take it,” Johnny teasingly cooed, “Arch your back for me, now. That’s it, good girl.”

Johnny pins your hips to the truck floor, keeping your arched back in place. His cock drilled deeper inside you with every thrust. You feel tears building up and dangling around your water line, and it breaks the waterworks when Johnny’s tip hits your sweet spot harshly.

“Fuck, please- I- I can’t take it,” You sob. Your cries intensify as Johnny smacks your ass, fixing his cock deep into your cunt and keeping it in place.

“Yes, you can, darlin’. You’re taking me so well,” Johnny's grip around your neck tightens, “You had your fun – don’t ruin mine.”

The tears kept falling as he fucked you, your body bracing his hench body leaning its weight down on you. His cock stretches you out, sending shots of pain and pleasure up your spine. Your sobs faded into quiet whimpers, but Johnny could still hear you.

"Fucking cry all you want, I'll keep fucking this tight cunt until I’m done,” Johnny taunted, grunting into your ear, “I want every motherfucker in that diner to hear you, see how much of a slut you are.”

He drills faster into you, gripping the soft flesh of your ass and digging his fingers hard enough to break the skin. Only near his climax were you beginning to adjust to his length, the drenched walls of your cunt tightening around his cock. Your mouth hangs open, and Johnny takes the chance to slide his fingers along your tongue, forcing them deep and making you choke. You suck on them hard, linking your gaze with his, catching a glimpse of that wild look in his eye.

“Fuck, I’m close baby. Fuck, fu-”

His cum coats your insides. Johnny ruts his hips to keep it all inside you. Your eyes roll and lull, utterly dumbfounded by Johnny’s mouth latched onto your shoulder, his teeth breaking the skin. He sucks on the blood pouring from the bite, colouring his teeth and pooling in his tongue. Your blood is filling his mouth, his cum in your womb, the cycle of transaction blurring the line between pain and pleasure.

#johnny slaughter x reader #tcm game #johnny slaughter #texas chainsaw massacre #drabble #creepling.brainrot

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creepling · 1 year ago

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no you're right op this is absolutely something he would do. the cunt would send himself to the infirmary and not give a flying fuck. aaaa he's disgusting i love it!! also i love the humour in this, you write his dialogue (all be it to himself) so well and i got a chuckle out of it alongside a perverted enjoyment. wouldn't mind a part 2 if you're up for it<33

Practice Makes Perfect

KTJL!Boomer, word count: 1.1k hng losing my little mind over the idea of digger practicing sucking himself off (because what else is there to do in prison?) 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: mentions of porn, masturbation, i made him disgusting because it's what i want ok tell me he wouldn't aim his load AND ALSO he's a fuckin goober like hc-ing it now digger talks to his penis, cum play, swallowing, self-fellating aheem heem and maybe if everyone is good and anyone wants it, we get a part 2 where he achieves his goal

George rolled over in his metal frame bed, thin mattress offering no support as he lay on his back. It was dark, around 3am he figured, and despite how hard he was trying he knew there was no way he was going to get back to sleep.

"Well, might as well indulge."

His voice sounded strange as it bounced off the walls of his cell, but there was a comfort in it, in the lack of response, in the emptiness. Being locked up was boring, it could be dull, isolating, and it drove him insane sometimes. But, if nothing else, it meant he had plenty of time alone to do one of the simple pleasures he enjoyed.

Reaching under the bed, at the side closest to the wall, he retrieved his stash of contraband. Everyone knew he had it, everyone knew it was better if he did. He could be, as he so politely put it, "a right miserable cunt" if he didn't have his release regularly. With his fingers clinging to the slightly crinkled pages, he teased the magazine up above the mattress and pulled it over to his chest, where he bagan to flick through the slightly stained pages.

With a bored sigh, he pushed down the band of his orange prison issue pants and began lazily stroking his cock, letting it go from soft to semi-erect in his hand. A shower, not necessarily a grower, but there was plenty of him to get a grip on either way. The featherlight touch he gave to the tip when his strokes reached his head made him shiver, a crooked, self-satisfied grin spreading over his face, pushing into his lightly freckled cheeks.

Skimming through the pages clumsily with one hand, he tried to find one he wanted to settle on. They all felt used though, old news, the same bodies he'd been jerking off to for months now. He needed some new material, something different, something a little bit exciting just to change things up.

Not that he had any difficulty in getting to where he needed to go regardless. Within minutes his fist was pumping along his length faster, gripping the shaft tighter than was comfortable, releasing the tension when it felt too much to give himself that feeling of respite that made his chest feel lighter.

Predictably, he could feel himself reaching the climax of his practiced labours pretty quickly, and with a lopsided smile he held his cock up straight. Each stroke was slow and the grip was strong now, easing up the shaft as though he were squeezing his release out.

"C'mon... c'mon... ah, fuck, c'mon!"

This was now the somewhere close to the tenth time he'd been aiming for the ceiling, hoping his load was explosive enough to reach it. It felt like a challenge now, something he couldn't not try. It did, however, lead to a lot of mess. Not necessarily much clean up, but definitely a lot of mess.

Looking down at his bare chest, George swiped at the droplets and strands of cum that decorated his torso. Not quite to the ceiling, but he was sure some of it had landed on his face, close to his lips. A quick investigation with his tongue proved him correct, as he tasted the sickly, salted flavour on his tongue.

"It's not even that bad."

He reached down, swiping up some of the splatter on his finger. He held it in the air, tapping his thumb to it and watching the viscous, white substance spread between them. Then he shrugged, popping it into his mouth. As if he were some kind of deranged sommelier, he shifted it from cheek to cheek, letting it rest on his tongue before he swallowed.

"Yeah! Not bad at all. Gotta start advertising that, just in case it helps convince anyone to give the little fella a suck."

Then it hit him. He couldn't believe he had forgotten about the last project he had been working on. He'd gotten distracted by the repetitive strain injury he'd given himself in his ribs, but that pain had subsided, which meant he could continue.

"Aw yeah! I was gonna suck it!"

George excitedly sat up in the bed, legs crossed, cock still semi-erect. He wondered if that was better or worse, and settled on it being the perfect state. Not too stiff, bit of stretch to it. Focusing on the tip of his cock, he took in a few deep breaths, soothing, focusing. Then he sat up completely straight, letting his spine elongate before he bent it quickly into an almost perfect arch.

And he was still a bit away from his goal.

"Shit."

He pushed his neck out, groaning with the strain, his tongue sticking out over his lips as far as he could get it.

"Just... a little... closer..."

The past injury, the one he thought had healed, began to twinge again. His entire side felt solid, like the tendons connecting the muscles might snap at any second. But he was determined.

"Come on you little cunt..."

One final urge, and a blatant disregard for his physical wellbeing, was all it took, as the tip of his tongue ran along the head of his cock. It was the briefest of connections, only managing to taste the slightest amount of salt from the his slit. But it was something.

"Holy shit!"

His body almost sprang back into a natural position as he let himself relax, a reward for his efforts and his success.

"Ah, Digger! You dirty fuckin' bogan! Well done, mate!"

He was close to patting himself on the back, but he realised the stretch might inadvertently cause further strain, and now that he was back on track with his self-satisfactory plans he didn't want to cause any further interruptions. Just a few more months of this and he'd maybe be able to get the tip in his mouth. For the first time, he was glad he had a long sentence ahead of him.

Smiling down at his own cock, ever pleased with the work they put in together as partners, he spoke out loud.

"There'll be some disappointed Sheila's when they find out I don't need them anymore. Disappointed fellas too, I reckon."

He nodded wistfully, well aware in the back of his mind that there weren't too many offers to begin with, but a little delusion never hurt anyone.

#ssktjl #recs #creepling.brainrot #captain boomerang x reader

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creepling · 2 years ago

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˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ WEEK 01: DBF! J. SLAUGHTER / 5k

WRITTEN FOR KINKTOBER 2023

synopsis. reader's father brings on an apprentice to work for him, but the young lad becomes an unlikely friend to the old man. johnny becomes a regular in your household, and the thoughts about him are becoming unbearable. when they become reality, johnny puts you in your rightful place.

tags. smut - MDNI. dad's best friend. college student!reader. size kink. height difference. reader is twenty-one, johnny is twenty-eight. dacryphilia. reader description in bikini top & shorts. sneaking off. bedroom sex. yearning. smoking cigarettes. power imbalance. secret relationship. rough kissing & sex. edging. oral (f & m receiving). use of 'little one', 'slut' and 'baby' as pet names. stomach bulge. johnny is too big for reader. positions: mating press, upstanding citizen, elevator stance.

Your dad was the guy the town went to to get anything from a tap to the free-loader truck fixed into shape. He was always handy with his hands, and it’s what brought the money in for the family. People come and go on the property, and you’re just glad the yards are big enough so they can work away in the blazing sun instead of disrupting the peace inside. At your considerable age, however, you never quite appreciated your dad appointing you as a jug maid when people came over—asking you to fetch water or mom’s home-grown lemonade and top it up for the guests.

Eight in the morning was the starting point, your mom fetching ingredients in the kitchen and your dad cleaning up his tools by the dining table. You idled behind the door as you listened to their conversation.

“Really? You’re gonna hire him?” Your mom said, confusion lacing her words.

“C’mon, it’s not the boy’s fault. Nancy said he couldn’t find permanent work in the city, and I’ve seen him fix things up – the kid’s got the touch. He can’t help who his family is,” Your dad defended.

“I don’t know, there’s rumours. I don’t wanna find out if there’s any truth,”

“Those are about Nancy, not him. Cut him some slack. You’ll like him when you get to know him.” That was the last you heard before you darted back to your room. As you changed for the day, you knew who your parents were talking about. Hesitant like your mother, you recalled your memories of the Sawyers and the Slaughters. They are a crazy bunch, not right in the head, tuned to the moon – the usual gossip about them. They were hushed words through the grapevine to you; you never met one of them in person. Now that Nancy’s ‘kid’ is your dad’s new apprentice, you could decide how crazy they are.

He drove in the yard in a busted-up truck, but the engine sounded clean and the exhaust clear as a whistle. Your dad stood out front while you and your mom hung by the porch. You strain your eyes to glimpse him in the bright sun. As he jumped out of the truck, your lips parted.

He was like something out of the movies. Hair slicked back – sun-kissed skin. Dust on his boots, the sleeves cut from his shirt. Head held high and flashing a smile as he shook your dad’s hand. You studied the flex of his arms – muscle-toned and robust. The rumours failed to mention how handsome he was, for sure.

Once he greets your dad, you and your mom walk towards him to get acquainted.

“I expected you to be a little scrawny thing,” Your mom smiled, just as surprised as you. The man chuckled and rubbed his neck awkwardly.

“You must be thinkin’ of Nubbins. I’m Johnny – Nancy’s son,” Johnny. It suited him like hair gel does a greaser.

“Gosh, I’m sorry, son, I’m bad with faces,” Your mom hollered, her bashfulness radiating off you and growing embarrassment in your core.

“This is my wife,” Your dad gestured, “And this quiet one at the back is my daughter,”

You introduce yourself. Johnny repeated your name, and it dripped like honey from his tongue. You mustered the coolest smile, hoping he blamed your bashfulness on the delirium of the heat. You spotted the hand he outstretched and shook it, your stomach doing summer salts at his firm grip—the stroke of his callous hands, deluging your hand. You could melt away in that moment.

Perch on the porch swing chair, nose in a book, your mind wandered to faraway lands to the noise of gears turning. Your dad praised Johnny’s working hands, a mutual bond in the early stages of establishment. Their tinkering perked your ears occasionally, your eyes peering over the book pages, salivating at the sight of Johnny’s gloved hands coated in soot. His eyes fixed on the mechanics, tiny strands of hair dangling over his forehead. Your dad calls on you, knocking you out of the trance.

“Fetch some lemonade, ay hun?”

You sighed, making your way into the house. In the shade, your skin still tingled. You glimpse your reflection in the hallway mirror. Cheeks dark – permanently flushed and hot. The pit of your stomach echoes alluring calls, burdening all logical thought. As you poured the glasses, you thought about those gloved hands gripping your sides, turning your body, greeting you with a rough kiss. Were his lips soft? Or brittle and callous, affected by the dry atmosphere. How much does his skin glisten with sweat? Do droplets run down the grooves of his muscles? His sun-kissed skin is littered with freckles, minuscule and collective, only noticeable when you kiss his points, running your tongue tactfully down his stomach.

“Honey, you’re spilling that!” Your mom rushed for a kitchen towel, soaking the lemonade that spread along the counter. You jumped out of your thoughts, awed by the mess, questioning the passing of time.

“Sorry, I was somewhere else…”

The thoughts only intensified when Johnny became a regular guest. He had much in common with your dad, and the unlikely man in his late 20s became a close friend to the older man. He was adopted by your dad’s friend circle, taking him under their wing, invited to BBQs, after-work bar drinks, and poker nights. When Johnny couldn’t make it, your dad always said he was in the city. You came to find Johnny wasn’t much older than you, but he likes to act like he is. One poker night, he walked past your bedroom, returning from the bathroom, eyeing the papers and books littering your desk. You felt his presence leaning on the door frame, thumbs hooked to his belt.

“Watcha got there?” He asked, his drawl never failing to amuse you.

“Summer reading. Gotta do it before I start the semester.”

“You’re always reading. Don’t ya eyes get sore?” His teasing took you by surprise. His hint at an observation was quite flattering. You thought he forgot you existed. It wouldn’t hurt to return the teasing, would it?

“Don’t your hands get sore from fixing so many cars?”

Johnny’s head leans back as he chuckles, a smirk on his face that could kill you on the spot. “You got me there, little one,” Johnny let his words linger as he walked back downstairs.

It should offend you to be called small, weaker, submissive. You were a grown-up. The grip on your pencil was firm but not from anger. It was from realising the sensation between your legs underneath your pyjama shorts. You were soaking wet.

July proved that this summer was hot, and there was no sign of it cooling down. Sitting outside was unbearable, and the thirst for cold water lay throats to dry as the pipes produced a lukewarm liquid that left a bad taste on the tongue. By the time Dad returned, the bags of ice melted in their plastic bags, causing your mother to rush about making ice cubes from scratch. All for the BBQ to still go ahead. The guests would be arriving soon.

Your parents’ friends arrived early to help out, and you heard the chin-wagging from up the stairs, cursing under your breath to find something decent to wear. Sweat invaded your skin even after having a shower, and the shorts and bikini top were becoming all too tempting to wear. You checked yourself in the mirror, the bikini strap tied around the back of your neck, the colour complimenting the hues of your skin. The plain and denim shorts are the most comfortable ones you own. Displaying your legs, room for the stomach, firm against your backside. It was the most revealing thing you’ve worn in a while, but as the sunlight reaches every corner of your bedroom, its feverish radiation gives you the excuse not to ponder. Checking your appearance once more, you sigh at your fussing and make your way downstairs.

Prepping food with your mom left you to wonder about your college friends. They were scattered around the states, living out their summers while you were stuck with the senior club. The guests remarked: if you don’t wanna hang with us old folks, we won’t take offence, hun. These people were considered your aunts and uncles; they’ve seen you in diapers. They braided your hair and kept your prying hands away from dangerous objects. The least you could do was spend time with them in your limbo stage of young adulthood and enjoy their company before you leave this town.

Things would have stayed wholesome if Johnny didn’t show up.

He wore the same clothes as always. This time, they looked like they had a fresh wash. His boots are polished, mechanic gloves discarded, his hair wet and slight back like he just hopped out of the shower. The congregation of the porch cooed at his arrival. The husbands were ready for handshakes, and the wives willfully smiled at his charming face. You were the only one to react like his welcome was neutral, even when you cocked your hip slightly to the side and fixed your hair.

He brought an offering of corn cobs, excusing the rest of his family not making attendance. “Momma wanted to give these as an apology for not comin’. She said she real busy. In truth, I think she was nervous comin’ here. She ain’t been out in a long while.”

They all thought how gratuitous the boy was looking out for his momma. You kept a blank face at their responses, knowing they would be as tense in meeting the ‘Black Nancy’. The black widow of Newt sitting with them, eating food with them, the rumours floating in their head like sewage in a gutter. It's a good thing he brought a meatless offering.

There were too many cooks in the kitchen as the men established a system by the grill, letting their wives sit around and ask Johnny questions, keeping him in their company. You sat by the edge, amused by the sight of his attempt to keep his cool.

They asked a lot about his family, and you sensed the tense build-up inside him from across the table. You bit your lip, staring into space, hearing the stutter of his words. He was like a meerkat around hyenas, and he didn’t like that one bit.

“How’s the old man? What was his name? Drayton! Is he still working at that gas station? Every time I drive by, there seems to be no gas in it,” The woman hollered, “Must be y’all bringing all the money in.”

“Wasn’t there a youngest? Must be cousins with yourself. ‘Went to school with my oldest, but he was not in it for long – teachers said he was slow-thinking. Think they pulled him out eventually. How’s he holdin’ up?”

The look in Johnny’s eyes, you hadn’t seen him like that before. Dark and daggering at the table, avoiding the gazes his way. You notice his forearm tense, his hands clenched into a fist. You felt like saying something.

“Quit your hollerin’ at ‘im! He don’t wanna gossip with ya!” Your dad’s friend nipped at his wife, causing the women to transfer into giggles.

“Would ya excuse me?” Johnny rose from the table and headed inside, insinuating use for the bathroom. As he entered the front door, you waited a few seconds before heading inside. Pausing by the hallway, you hear his footsteps, ear perking at a creak from upstairs. As you ascend the stairs, you see him loitering by the landing, arms crossed and back to the wall. His eyes closed, heaves of exhales coming from his nose – like he was meditating.

“Drains the life outta ya, doesn’t it?” You perked, earning a jolt of surprise from Johnny.

“What ya mean?” He drawled, shrugging his shoulders.

“They’re energy vampires. I love them and all, but- sometimes they never know when to read the room. I guess I just- I mean to say you’re not wrong for feeling annoyed by it,” You gingerly walk closer to him, eyes adjusting to his face in the dim light. He was always at a distance, a stunning piece to commend. This is the closest you’ve ever seen him. You glance at his worn-out jeans, the car spark burn-holes in his t-shirt, the scars littering his arms. He was a solidified dream, flesh and bone carved by the Gods – a little rugged. You cross your legs and hug your arms, unworthy of his stare.

He couldn’t help but stare, too, soaking you in from head to toe – revealing your attributes hidden by flowy blouses and cotton flares on an average day. Your skin looked soft and plush. The dip in your thighs from the denim hugging close, snug on your hips. The bikini demanded his attention, and his stare was everlasting on you. A warm aura collided with your tense muscles, still and eager. You straightened your back and hugged your arms tighter, defining the curve of your cleavage. Johnny cocked his eyebrow.

“You wanna hang out? We can sit in my room” Your suggestion slipped through your lips. You were urged by the thoughts signalling in your mind to fill the hunger for his hands on you. To find somewhere quiet and colluded for your moans to become ballads.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Johnny took a step closer to you. He was tall, his head tilted, eyes peering down at you. Your small stature shuffled back, but Johnny only leaned closer. The broadness of his shoulders engulfing you, his figure like a shadow. He was thinking about your suggestion, burying your head into the pillows, having his way with you. But for the first time, he felt like following a moral code – to not fuck his best friend’s daughter. He’d grown close to him and even appreciated his presence as the father figure he never had. But he had also grown fond of how you look at him, tempting him at every chance. Your acts were desperate; he mused on stripping you of your innocent facade, letting his hands reveal your alluring nature. Nervously laughing, you divert your eyes, swinging your legs in motion to your bedroom door.

“Well- while the old ones talk your ear off, I’ll be in my room. You’re welcome to join if you like,” You bite your lip and bat your eyes before closing the door.

Johnny shuffled between your door and the stairs, hearing the laughter from outside and a record hitting play through your wall. Both sound sources tugged at him until he finally gave him, opening your door discreetly.

You lay on your bed, positioned with your feet kicking the air, your hands splayed over a book you were reading earlier. The music mumbled as Johnny slowly closed the door, leaning on it as his eyes scanned your room. It was a physical personification of you, small tokens of memories littered around. The walls are still a pale pink from when you were a toddler, yellow-stained from cigarette smoke. Hand-me-down furniture in the set of dark wood, coffee stains on the desk, dust under the wardrobe. Johnny’s lips tugged into a smile, “Cute,”

You gave him room to sit on the bed, discarding your book and leaning on your side. Johnny prompted his back against the headboard, his boots dangling on the edge, mindful of the dirt on the soles. He digs into his pockets for his pack of cigarettes and lighter, clipping his lips onto the dout of the cigarette and pulling it out. You gaze at his pout and the clicker of the lighter, mimicking his inhale to steady the gutting pounds of your heart. You inch your fingers towards him, and he passes the cigarette, allowing you to pinch it between your fingers and draw it to your lips.

“Why’d you start working with my dad?” You ask the question you wanted to ask for a long time, to know the beginning of it all. To better understand the origins of his presence being the demise of your contentment.

“He offered me a job, I took it,” He shrugged, taking the cigarette as you passed it back.

“And now you’re the best of buddies. How’s that going?” You slightly tease, smiling at the sight of his smirk.

“I know you’re his daughter and all - but he’s a fun guy to hang around with. Doesn’t bother me he’s older. I like hanging out with him, and he’s taught me a lot on the job.”

Johnny taps the ashes into the ashtray at your bedside, his free hand by his side, inches away from yours. His hard fingertips traced circles on your duvet. You slide your fingers closer, breezing your nail along his index. He observed you, studying your innocent exterior, suspicious of your insinuating eyes.

“What about me? Am I fun to hang out with?” Your face dropped as he slowly shook his head.

“Don’t…” His warning was clear, but his tongue scaled along his cheek, trying to hold back. You roll your eyes and sit up, looking him dead in the eyes.

“You’re not that much older than me, y’know. You don’t get to treat me like a baby just because you're friends with my family.” You got your point across, narrowing your eyes as Johnny held in a chuckle.

“How old are you, anyways?” Johnny drawled, his eyes flickering to your lips.

“Twenty-one. And how old are you? Twenty-eight, going on Fifty?” Your face was straight, but you chewed on your cheek as his smirk grew contagious. A firmness gripped your wrist, and your breath hitches, pupils dilating as Johnny pours his stare into you. As he sits up, you feel small again, his shoulders at either side of you, his hard look demanding your attention.

“I see how it is. You’re all grown up now, but mommy and daddy still think you’re their sweet little baby. Everyone thinks you’re so damn cute, you’re the precious little angel. And you’re just getting darn’ sick of it,” Johnny’s words form a lump in your throat, and you meekly nod. His lips close to yours, and your mouth gapes open as he leans closer.

He pulls away, smirking at your intentions, biting the cigarette between his teeth. You turn away in a huff, rubbing your hot cheeks. How embarrassing to be teased like that and caught out on your feelings. Johnny was relishing it.

“Go back downstairs if you’re going to be like that,” You say, trying not to trip on your words and stand your ground. Johnny deadens the cigarette into the ashtray, and his boots scrape against the hardwood. He squats in front of you, forcing his gaze on yours.

“I ain’t doing anything outta malice, sweetheart. What you’re tryna do would cost me my job. What would your dad think of me? What would he think of you?” Johnny places his hands on your thighs, running his fingers along your bare skin. You caught your breath. “But… I’m not one to play by the rules. And, well, that little outfit of yours caught my eye the minute I came here.”

Johnny hooks his fingers under the hem of your shorts, his knuckles digging under the tight fabric. Your back arches along with your legs slowly opening, fixated on Johnny’s eyes on your body. “My, you’re just too tempting…” Johnny breathes out.

“No one has to know,” You convince, “I won’t tell anyone. You’ll still have your job.”

Johnny places his hand on the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek. You realise how big he is compared to you, how his hand could cover your whole face or wrap wholly around your neck. His lips tug into a smirk as his eyes devour you, “Yeah, let’s keep this our little secret.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as his mouth strikes yours, inviting you into a rough embrace. A low, mumbled moan vibrates against his lips, causing him to chuckle. Immediately, his arms around you press you against his body, bringing your small frame into a cradle as he stands up. Your legs wrap around his hips, his hands gripping your ass and the back of your neck. The effortlessness of handling coursed through your mind, wondering what other aspects he can achieve. His initiation of power lends you your submissive state, and you allow him to spread your short frame along your bed, his broad shoulders on either side of you, and he props himself with his elbows. He leans to one side, letting his free hand fidget with your shorts, his lips never leaving for breath. He tugs them off, chuckling as they fumble over your thighs.

Johnny trails his kisses down to your chest, his teeth scraping against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. His hands caught onto your breasts, massaging into their warmth. His nose is buried into your cleavage, and you take the time to undo the back of your bikini, letting the fabric fall on either side of him. The strap tickles his ears, and his hands yank the rest of the fabric, his mouth latching onto your nipples, a drawn-out moan escaping your lips. You wondered how loud is too loud. Will people hear from downstairs? Taking no chances, you clasp your hand over your mouth, sinking into the bed as Johnny attacks your sensitivity.

“Lemmie hear those moans, little one,” Johnny said between kisses, “You sound so darn cute.”

There it was again. Little one. You feel your underwear drenched as you buck your hips, your pussy rubbing against the thin material. It only intensifies as Johnny lowers his kisses, catching sight of the damp trail pooling in your panties. “Fuuuck,” he breathes out, pressing his fingertips against your warmth, making you tense. Pleading with your eyes as he teases you, your hips grind against his touch, begging for pressure. Johnny was not one for pleasuring others, but the sight of your desperation and your sweet scent sent his actions into overdrive. His fingers pull down the thin, cotton fabric, abandoning it on the floor, spreading your legs to reveal your dripping cunt.

“Such a pretty little pussy,” He prompts your legs over his shoulders, exposing you. You mewl at your vulnerability, eyes locked on his fingers inching towards you. He groans at his fingers sliding neatly between your walls, gliding upwards to your gummy clit. His touch was light but enough to make you shift your hips lower. He grunts, gripping your legs and giving you a firm stare.

“I need you to stay still, baby girl. I wanna take my sweet’ass time with you, ‘that clear?”

You nod rapidly, agreeing to anything that involves him touching you. You mentally beg for him inside you, to fill you up with his immersive fingers, letting each one stretch you out and tighten at his touch. You wanted to feel his tongue toy with your clit, cum all over his mouth. But he wasn’t playing by your rules, and Johnny will do anything to make you beg.

Johnny idles your clit, making his touch lighter whenever you press against him. He chuckles at your defeat, your ass sinking lower into the bed, obeying him in hopes of pleasure. Johnny takes his time sliding inside you, one finger after another, his mouth agape at the sight of your stretching cunt. You yelp into your mouth, biting down on your finger as you ease into his touch, gasping as he pumps in and out. Your eyes widen at the feeling of his tongue rubbing against your clit. Your stomach tightens, your hands grip the sheets, and a sigh of relief escapes your lips.

The sight of Johnny’s eyes looking up at you was maddening, his stare dark and lustrous. His free hand holds your leg wide, having all access to your sensitive cunt. The tip of his tongue rapidly against your clit, sending a tight, pleasurable feeling to your core. His experience was unlike any other. It beat all the sex you had before out of the park. Your climax inches to finish, your moans pitching higher, mewling against your pursed lips. Then, he stops, the cold air hitting against your throbbing cunt, his tongue licking his lips.

“Why’d you stop? Please, I was so fucking close-” You protest, but Johnny already has his fingers on your lips, silencing you. With a firm hold on your jaw, he slaps your cunt until it’s raw, basking in your surprise. The way your small frame protests his touch amused him more than he liked to admit.

“Awh baby, I don’t want you cumming so early,” Johnny mockingly coos, rubbing the bulge protruding from his jeans, “I gotta have some pleasure too, y’know.”

You sit up, practically clawing at his jeans, letting his hands stroke your pretty face as you reveal his cock. Like his hands, his length reached over your face, his girth heavy against your nose. Kitten licking his shaft, Johnny chuckles at your eagerness.

“Who knew you were such a lil cock slut?” Johnny amused. It’s the quiet ones you gotta watch out for, he thought. His tip pokes your pretty little mouth, Johnny aiming entry, his head thrown back as you suck it gently in your mouth. He grips your hair, his burly strength pushing your mouth deeper around his cock. You choke as your nose tickles his base, gasping for air as he springs his cock out of your mouth. Once his cock is dripping in your drool, Johnny pushes you back, exposing your throbbing cunt to his erection.

Beyond the mist of lust, Johnny thought for a moment. His eyes scan you – your puppy eyes and puffy lips. His hands pressed down your thighs, exposing your entrance, his tip rubbing against your clit. He wanted nothing more than for you to be his tiny fucktoy. He undertakes, sliding his cock inside you, slow against your tightness, the pressure forcing him to stuff himself inside you. He watches as your pussy stretches around him, the way your stomach expands and reveals the bulge of his cock. He comprehends the size difference, how minuscule you are underneath him, and how in your stature you squirm under his force. You try to back up as he is halfway, your pussy choking on his cock, but he holds you in place.

“This getting too much for you, little one? Can’t you take all of me?” Johnny grunts in your ear, rutting the rest of his length inside you, smothering your face into the crook of his neck as you yelp. Burying his cock into you, he waits until you succumb to his length before getting back into position and pounding his cock in and out of you. The roughness to provoke against you sends mixed signals, your mind foggy and fixated on his cock. A jolt of pleasure fills you, his thumb rubs against your clit.

“Who knew daddy’s little girl was so cock-hungry,” Johnny teased, “A pretty thing like you wanting me to ruin this tiny pussy. Fuck, your dad’s gonna be pissed.”

He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his fingers never leaving your clit, watching you ascend into lust as he tells you how dirty you are, how he sees the way you stare at him, how you were asking for this. You thank him repeatedly, asking him to go faster, harder.

“You gonna make me cum,” You purr, your high coming close. Your words encourage Johnny to keep going until the opposite occurs. His fingers leave your clit, his thrusts burn into a slow rhythm, and you feel like screaming. A numbing agony takes over. You sob into his chest. Johnny forces you to look at him, witnessing tears fall. His edging came to a breaking point. Your orgasm is denied and torturous. You plead with him with your eyes, your lip quivering. His pupils dilate as you sob.

His thrusts are harsher as if forcing the tears to keep spilling down your puffy cheeks, grunts breathing out his mouth at the sound of you choking on your sobs. His hand wraps around your neck, pushing the air from your lungs, using every possibility to see you crying. You knew he enjoyed this, feeling him twitch inside you, your lulling eyes catching the perverted look in his eye.

“You keep doing that, and I’ll let you cum, baby girl,” Johnny promised, not caring how psychotic he sounded, showing his true colours. The creak of the bed intensifies as he drills into you, prompting him to pick you up in his arms. You instinctively wrap your arms around him, shocked at how flawlessly he picked you up, holding you like you weigh nothing. Your legs over his arms, his forehead pressing against yours. Mesmerised by the dark look in his eye, you silence your moans with pursed lips, astonished at your tender insides ruined by his rough thrusts. The tears keep streaming, the pain mixing with your arousal, your delicate cunt denied of pleasure, at his mercy for emancipation. Johnny kissed your tear-stained cheeks – a glutton to its salty taste.

“Such a good little pet for me, so fucking good,” Johnny mumbles, a belligerent on your ass, smacking you against him and grunting at the pleasure. “I’m gonna let you cum now, doll. Fuck – I want you to cum.”

You gasp in relief, repeating gratitude, the depths of his pummelling enough to bring your high from your ruined pussy to its release. As you speak and squirm, you cling to his broad frame, nails digging into his shoulders, suffocating your face into his neck. Johnny is unyielding to your cunt tightening around him, his length bathing in your wetness, an exhausted groan flowing from his agape mouth. Johnny holds your dead weight as you grow limp, lightheaded from the rush, but still able to keep you with perfect precision. Knowing his climax is approaching, Johnny slips your lame, small body off him, forcing you to his knees. You become alert in your position, held in place with your head directly under his pulsating dick, his hand firm on the top of your head, ready for his load.

Strings of hot seed stretch your face and hairline, grumbling curses from Johnny, the sight of you marked with his release clouding his mind— the residue hanging from your lips, relishing in his salty taste. Johnny smirks down at you. Even in his transition to clarity, you are a sight for sore eyes. “You look so pretty like that, little one,” he chuckled.

Both of you are quick to change, aware of the passing of time and the guests downstairs. Johnny helps you tie your bikini, brazing your tits for the last time before buckling his jeans. Cleaning the cum and tears from your face with a cloth, you gaze at him, fumbling with his belt, trailing your eyes along the perimeters of his body. Wondering if all of this was just another wet dream.

Johnny revised the excuse with you once more, “I was in the bathroom, bothered by last night's dinner. You were in your room studying. Got it?”

You smirk slyly, making Johnny cock his eyebrow. “You really want them thinking you were on the toilet for half an hour?”

Johnny rolls his eyes, “Better than them knowing I was fucking you. Unless you got another excuse, smartass?”

A smile erupts on your face, giggling under your breath. Your eyes look at Johnny, ready to ask about the elephant in the room. “Is this gonna be the first and only time?”

Johnny thinks about it momentarily, shrugging as he gazes down at you. “It can’t be too regular. But I would be lyin’ if I said I didn’t wanna see you again,”

You sit there bashful, the flash of shyness intensifying when he gently kisses the top of your hand, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. He had an edge to him. You discovered that in the trice, but it only heightened your infatuation with him. To be under him, in his command, you never felt more safe, excited, and thrilled by what life threw at you. The risk of getting caught, in any other situation, your good nature meets with anxiety. Johnny made it worth it. It was impossible to deny him. And Johnny could sleep tonight knowing he had you wrapped around his finger.

“‘Til next time, sweet thing,'' Johnny exited, winking before closing the door. You lay back on your bed, gaining your senses, the butterflies in your stomach still prevalent and consuming.

#johnny slaughter x reader #johnny sawyer x reader #tcm game #texas chainsaw massacre #kinktober 2023 #johnny slaughter smut #creepling.brainrot #fanfic #smut

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creepling · 2 years ago

Text

odd one out - j. slaughter & l. mckinney / 3k

synopsis: reader has been with her boyfriend leland since college started. they are your cookie-cut couple destined for love. that all comes to the flip-side when reader's friend from back home, johnny, pays a visit.

tags: fem!reader x johnny x leland. smut - MDNI. porn with plot. pining!johnny. cuck!leland. cuckholding. fingering (fem receiving). mild knife play. teasing/mocking. oral (male receiving). masturbation. vogeurism. use of 'girl' as pet name. manhandling/roughplay. fucked dumb. emasculation. possessiveness. doggystyle. mating press. breeding kink. unprotected sex.

“Is someone there?” Leland called into your house, holding your hand and standing in front of you protectively.

You had just returned to your dorm with your long-term boyfriend. The two of you have been inseparable since you met in college. And now, he is trying to protect you from the perpetrator who opened the mini fridge in the kitchen.

“It’s probably just one of my roommates, Leland. It’s cool,” You say, soothing his tense arm.

“Your roommate would have answered by now,” He said, standing guard.

The fridge-raider finally shows themselves, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. Johnny – your friend from back home – leans against the door frame with a beer bottle in hand. He points it up in greeting, a sly smirk on his face.

“Johnny– what are you doing here?” You say, forcing a smile through your confusion. He had not said anything about visiting in your letters and didn’t leave a message. It was a surprise.

Leland was not so fond of the surprise visit, loosening his tension but crossing his arms over his chest. He never liked your friend, Johnny. He could tell a mile away he was a sack of shit. Everything about him made his skin crawl and bawl fists with anger. He never subscribed to the idea of him being a good friend for you, yet he also did not want to be one of those controlling boyfriends who tell you who to hang out with. Leland prefers to keep his wits about him when Johnny's around.

“I was in the city, thought I’d stop by,” Johnny leaned in to bring you into a hug, holding in his chuckle as he felt Leland’s eyes burning into his skull.

You hug back, clocking the beer in Johnny’s hand. “Well, it seems like you’ve helped yourself. You want something to eat or-?”

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Leland interrupted, making Johnny’s head turn. You look at Leland, wondering why his face is so stern, but you nod and excuse yourself. You take Leland to your room and shut the door, waiting to hear what he says in private.

Leland paces the room, which he does when he’s agitated or stressed. You knew he never got along with Johnny. They’re opposites of each other. Something like this, pulling you aside, will only make the chances of them becoming friends impossible. You wished Leland had trust in Johnny, like he has faith in you.

“Don’t you find this a little odd? Him turning up out of nowhere, without calling or anything? You send letters every week, and he never mentioned coming to the city.” Leland voiced his frustrations, waving his hands in the air.

“Maybe he had to go last minute. He always comes in to fetch things for the yard, so no, Leland, I don’t think it’s weird,” You shrug off.

“He should at least have the decency to call you. How many phone booths are in Austin? Thousands!” He sighs out the tension built in his body, feeling guilty about complaining. “I’m sorry, it’s just-”

“I know you don’t see eye to eye. Johnny has his ways. He likes surprising me, and I like seeing him. That’s all it is. He didn’t mean to turn up unannounced.” You wrap your arms around Leland’s neck, looking at him with kind eyes.

“Where’s he gonna sleep?” He asked, convinced by your kindness. You always had a way of calming him down.

“The couch will do him just fine,” You giggle, giving Leland a peck on the cheek. Leland leaned down and kissed you, mentally cursing Johnny for sabotaging his alone time with you. He hides his vexation with a soft smile.

Johnny was sitting on the couch when you entered the standard room, smiling at the sight of you. You ask Leland to fetch more beers from the fridge, cosying up on the armchair across from the couch. Leland obliges and opens the fridge door, greeted with the empty sight. “All gone,” he called over.

“Dang, musta had the last one,” Johnny tutted, waving the empty beer bottle.

No shit, Sherlock, Leland thought.

“I can go to the store and get some more?” You suggest.

“No, it’s too late for you to be alone. I’ll go,” Leland said, pulling his jacket back on.

“Such a gentleman,” Johnny remarked, mockingly smiling at Leland, earning a hard stare from the brunette.

Leland went to the store before you could tell him off for glaring. Once Leland was out the door, Johnny looked back over to you, resting his arm along the back of the couch.

“Don’t call him that,” You tell Johnny, smiling at his so-called ‘playfulness’.

“What?” Johnny chuckled, acting dumbfounded.

“A gentleman, it’s patronizing,” You laugh, finding Johnny’s chuckle and charming smile contagious.

“I didn’t mean to offend him in any way, and you know that. I’m happy for ya. A pretty girl got herself a pretty boy,” Johnny badgers on, “a match made in heaven.”

You laugh it off, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve, peering out the window for the sight of Leland coming back. Johnny flicks the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, carefully examining your features. You only got more beautiful as you got older, and if your strict family did not make you off-limits to him, he would have had you sooner. You could've been his fine-looking woman instead of that college boy rut getting the privilege to enjoy you. The thought of Leland acting all ‘boy-next-door’ to please your family sickened him. At least Johnny stayed true to who he was. Except Johnny was always the bad boy who was too old for you, a bad influence on you. He would corrupt you and take you down a destructive path. They were right about that, but Johnny cursed his inability to manipulate you. Once you looked back from the window, Johnny relaxed his face and kept his cool, as if the thoughts in his head were nonexistent.

“How’s college treatin’ ya? You still the brains of the operation?” Johnny asks.

“Oh, y’know, I like it, but there are people here smarter and got more chance,” You shrug. Johnny slowly shook his head in disagreement.

“I mind you being a pretty face with brains. That’s a rarity. There ain’t no one like you,” The compliment made you smile bashfully, your mind not fully accustomed to the philosophy.

You never knew how to reply to Johnny at times since most interactions with him are compliments – flirtation, but he had a good way of hiding it. Maybe that’s why Leland can’t appreciate him. He senses the intentions. To you, it’s all just fun. Johnny could have any girl he pleased and took pride in that. When he flirts with you, you think nothing of it. Johnny wants nothing more than just flirtatious banter.

What you thought wasn’t the truth. To Johnny, you are the girl he wants. The forever girl, the one he wants to settle with. Even killers have wives, the one women they tokenise. How could anyone suspect him if he’s occupied with the Southern bell of Newt? It is his one-way ticket to displaying reformation.

“Yer man’s taking an awful while,” Johnny muttered, tutting.

“The store’s quite a bit away,” You say.

Still, it’s time for Johnny to buy. He watches you stand and excuse yourself to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go change. I won’t be long.” You say.

Johnny timed it in his head, counting the beats of his heart. He slowly rises from the couch and takes off his jacket, slinging it over the sofa. Before entering your bedroom door, he fixes his hair and sucks on his teeth.

Leland frowns at the absence of you and Johnny, the bag of beer cans dangling from his fingers. His heart began to race, expecting the worst. His mind convinces him of a better solution as he places the bag on the table and removes his jacket. Johnny’s finally left, and you’re away to bed. That’s all it is.

He heard moans coming from the bedroom, your moans. His heart sank. They got louder as he stood there, taunting him in his fragile state. Rage burrowed within him and began to come to the surface. He stormed to your bedroom door, planning to swing it open and start the confrontation. But his hand trembles as he lingers on the door handle. A lump forms in his throat, and all he can muster is slowly opening the door. The door creaks as he shuffles inside, forcing his eyes to witness the atrocity.

Johnny had you bent over his knee, your clothes hanging by a thread on your body. His fingers were toying with your cunt as you mewled into your hand. Leland eyes are blown out wide, and he balls his hands into fists. Johnny smirks sinisterly.

“Get your hands off-” Leland protested, but he was cut short at the sight of Johnny holding up a knife.

“I guessed you would try that, so I suggest you don’t. Or I’ll cut her up bit by bit,” Johnny threatened, “You like it anyways, don’t ya, darlin’?”

You couldn’t speak, your throat closed, shame shivering over you. Leland fought the urge to scream, tears collecting on his waterline. “Please… just don’t hurt her,”

“This is what we’re gonna do, pretty boy. I’m gonna fuck your girlfriend, and you’re gonna stand there and watch,” Johnny ordered, keeping his knife tight as he ran the blunt end up your spine. You gasp at the cold feeling on your skin. The breathy tones of your moans petrified Leland. Were you enjoying this?

When he sensed Leland would comply, Johnny returned to touching you, collecting your arousal in his fingers as he ran along your glistening slit. You bit your lip, glancing at your boyfriend with lulled eyes. “It’s okay, Leland. I’m okay,” You reassure him, humiliated by his dumbfounded expression. A moan runs from your lips as you feel Johnny enter a finger inside you, slowly pulsing into your warmth.

Johnny never takes it slow, but he wanted Leland to soak up every movement he made. Prolong the experience as much as possible until it breaks him. Leland backed into the corner of the room, leaning against the wall to hold himself up. Johnny chuckled at the sight of the boy’s hands shaking.

“She’s real tight,” Johnny drawled, “you must not fuck her enough. If it was me, not even a crowbar could pry me off her,”

Leland shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek, wishing he could beat the shit out of him. Nonetheless, he knows better than to get violent. Your life was on the line as Leland carefully watched where Johnny placed his knife. His breath hitched when its sharp end hovered and glazed your skin.

Johnny slid another figure inside you, quickly grabbing your hair with his other hand and pinching his knife between his fingers. His lips lean to your ear, his deep chuckle fogging your concentration.

“Look at him, just standing there, not doing a thing. You really date this pussy?” Johnny taunted. You press your lips into a frown, but your moans are audible, shattering Leland’s ears.

Johnny slips his fingers out, smacks your ass, and orders you to kneel. You comply, gazing at Johnny’s figure towering over you, his hand stroking the bulge in his jeans. “Gonna be a good girl for me?”

Thankful your back was turned from Leland, your lustful eyes look to Johnny in awe. In compliance, you nod your head. Johnny unbuckled his jeans, mesmerised by your eyes and forgetting Leland was in the room. Johnny cusps his hand behind your head and reveals his cock, guiding your lulling, drooling mouth towards him.

Leland silently winced, his lips in a grimace. At the sight, but more so of the feeling coursing through him. Gawking at your arched back, your head bobbing, your lips firm and perked on the tip of Johnny’s cock. He yearned to see your face, the way you look up at him when you suck his dick. Going steady with determination – for your nose to graze his snail trail. Leland sighs, hovering his hand on his crotch, feeling his jeans tighten. That should be him giving pleasure. Johnny captivates you, his cock a few inches bigger than his own, his member filling your mouth until you gag. Leland detects a twitch from his erection, pining for the touch of another.

Johnny changes the mood from across the room, shooting Leland an analytic side-eye. His lips tuck up a smirk at the sight of his hand slightly on his tightening jeans.

“Would you look at that,” Johnny awes mockingly, “Yer man’s starting to like it.”

Leland avoids eye contact with Johnny, focusing on your hushed eyes, trailing down to your craning neck, your movement eager and hungry. Leland unbuckles his jeans, shame overtaking him like a cold sweat.

“Say Leland, you like seeing ya girl sucking good dick?” Johnny taunts further before drawing his attention back to you, readying his hips to buck his cock deeper into your throat.

Leland strokes his cock, collecting his precum and warming the tip, biting his lip. The sounds of your struggle, mixed with greedy drool, send him into a spiral.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, girl,” Johnny groans, fucking your face into oblivion. Leland suppressed his whines, squeezing his eyes shut and bucking into the warmth of his hand. Sweat drips down his goosebumped neck, and he shivers from the mix of hot and cold sensations. Fear and arousal consume him, the tinge of anger lingering in his manner as he hastily pleasures himself.

Johnny slides his cock slickly out of your mouth. You gasp for air, a string of drool connecting your bottom lip to his tip. It drips on the floor as Johnny motions you to the bed vigorously, prompting your knees at the edge of the bed, pressing your cheek against his as his hand grips your neck. His manhandling sends a shiver down your spine. He whispers flattery into your ear, anticipating the warmth of your pussy, massaging your breasts and pressing his dick between your ass cheeks.

Knife tossed to one side, Johnny reigns your hips with his callous hands, the immersive size of his fingers squeezing your tender skin. His dick teases your entrance, motioning your hips to beckon him inside you. Leland attempts to suppress his pathetic moans as you beg Johnny to fuck you. Please. Please.

Johnny curses under his breath, the lustrous power controlling his instincts and satisfying him like a drug. His obsession transfers into his body as he clings onto you, pushing his cock slowly into your slick cunt, sighing in satisfaction at your breathy moans.

You perk your hips to adjust to Johnny’s size. He was bigger than Leland, his girth acting as pressure against your firm walls, encouraging the pulse of your heat to welcome him. “Johnny,” You whine, “Fuuuuuck.”

Leland could cry on the spot. Forced to succumb to the pleasure you felt from another and clouded with a carnal giddiness, gratification drowning your thoughts. He was a fly on the wall, sensing your love and passion poisoned by primitive arousal. His primal instincts conflicted with him. His heart now shattered, but his cock twitched, and he touched himself with more robustness.

“That’s it, take it all in,” Johnny sinisterly encouraged. He advanced against your firmness, burrowing his cock deep inside you, finding your sweet spot as you gasped in satisfaction. His eyes-lids droop at the feeling of you tightening around him, your cunt salivating in anticipation. Johnny bucks his hips and graduates into thrusts. His breath hitched as he picked up the pace.

You surprised yourself when your stomach fluttered at the animalistic nature of Johnny’s technique. Your knees buckled under his muscular frame, your hands gripping the sheets. Johnny takes his strong arms to hold up your fragile weight, pressing you against his chest. Whines pour off your lips as he smacks your ass and bites your neck. You thought about telling him to slow down, but the majority outvoted it – you didn’t want him to stop.

Passion and sweetness were absent as Leland leaned harder onto the wall, unbuttoning his shirt as sweat dripped down him. His abs glistening and absent of your touch, he spits on his hand and wraps the moisture around his aching cock, wishing for warmth. Leland observes Johnny’s thick arms entangling your body – all those nights of passionate lovemaking gone to waste. If he knew you liked it like this, he would have given you what you wanted and acted on the dreams he wished were reality. Now, he witnesses the result of his procrastination and watches Johnny fuck his girlfriend better than he ever could.

Johnny’s stamina does not come close to faltering. His pace is consistent and rigid. He only slows down when he feels the build-up in his stomach, stalking his climax to prolong the moment he has manifested for so long. “You know how long I spent thinking about you?” Johnny husked into your ear, “About fucking you, having you as mine? It’s been too damn long. Yeah, I’m going to enjoy this.”

You whine as Johnny’s cock slips out of you, but he quickly turns you around and pins you down on the bed. His hands manhandle your thighs, pinning them down as his eyes hunger on your pulsing cunt. He latches his mouth on your plump lips, and your tongue welcomes his, letting the roughness of his tongue explore your mouth. His mass towers over you as his cock aligns with your entrance. Johnny enters you again with another deep thrust, his length more profound than before. It causes you to yelp, his tip kissing your hymen.

“Not used to a dick this big, darlin’?” Johnny teased, smirking against your lips. His dark eyes pour into yours, and you get caught in a trance. You let his stare overtake your vision, moans bubbling in your throat as he propels deeper into you.

“You’re mine now. After getting fucked this good, you’ll never wanna see Loverboy again. Ain’t that right?” Johnny growled, his hands gripping your thighs. The reality of his words pierced through your cock-hungry mind. You glance over at Leland, biting your lip at the sight of him pleasuring himself. His eyes locked on yours, his groans audible as you whine as Johnny’s cock pummels into you. As Leland was close to climax, he squeezed his eyes shut, breaking contact. You look back at Johnny. His gaze fixated on your bouncing breasts before staring back at you.

“I wanna come inside you so bad,” Johnny’s words escaped. You look down at his cock fucking into you, your high rising. Johnny’s affirmation wanders in your mind before you moan in defeat, pleading it to be reality.

“Come inside me,” You squeak, your mind overstimulated and hasty. “Fuck. Please, Johnny.”

Aroused by your words, Johnny plunges your pussy, picking up the pace and gripping your neck. His forehead pressed against yours, and your shaking breaths harmonise with the vibration of his growls. The muscles tensing in his neck and the flex of his arms are enough to let your body surrender to him and prepare for his seed.

“‘M gonna fuck my cum into this little pussy. That’ll be enough to make ya mine, eh darlin’?” Johnny mumbles into your ear. You grow lightheaded as his harsh drills bring you to your climax, your bottom lip and legs quivering simultaneously.

“That’s it, girl. Come all over my dick. I’m so close, baby. So close,” Johnny grunts, “I’m gonna fill you up so good. Gonna make ya mine.”

Strings of hot seed fill your insides, and Johnny gasps and growls into your neck, his teeth scraping down your flesh. From the corner of your eye, you witness Leland moan and finish in his hands, his cum pathetically dripping off his knuckles and onto the hardwood floor. It was no match to Johnny’s broad frame pressing against you, his scent mistifying your senses. His dick slowly slips out of your sensitive walls, basking at the rutting sight of you with a smirk.

He had fucked you dumb, and the lust in your eyes was enough to beckon a second round. As Johnny tried to catch his breath, he glanced at Leland in his submissive state. He was now sitting on the floor, looking sadly at his mess. Johnny couldn’t paint a better picture if he could, and he enjoyed the moment while it lasted.

“Don’t think she’ll want you after that, pretty boy,” Johnny mocked, laughing at Leland’s defeat. “She’s better off with me, anyways. Don’t you worry, I’ll be sure to show her a good time – but you already know that.”

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