I'm not sure if you are familiar with the "mating press" position, but the little horny voice inside my head says that Tommy would absolutely love it. Just imagine reader having her legs on his shoulders while he pins her down to the bed because he needed to let off steam. Of course, this is completely consensual! Reader is willingly helping her husband out like the sweet housewife she is <3 Would you be up to write something like that? Sorry for being so disgustingly horny about him... (´-﹏-`；)
Omg i love this request!! HAPPY 1K MY BEAUTIES!!!
Mating press with Tommy <3
Warnings: unprotected sex, SIZE KINK OML (I'm sorry I couldn't help myself) pnv, afab reader, he cums inside because he's a loving husband, overall just porn with a little plot
It was a sunny day, the warm Texan breeze on your shoulders as you washed dishes from breakfast. A hefty pile of dishes, Tommy was not a small man to feed. As the warm water eroded the bacon grease from your castiron, you heard some stomping from the yard. You smile, you can imagine how he was looking at that very moment; his mask covering half of his sweaty face, hair stuck to his forehead, shoulders wide and casting a big shadow over whatever he was blocking. His tall frame was delicious, his arms, his hands that held the majority of your torso already made you hot on the back of your neck.
Lost in a trance of your thoughts, you feel the warm water over your hands' sudden absence. You don't need to turn your head to identify the reason. You can already hear his little huffs behind his mask and his big meaty hands pawing at your hips.
“I missed you, Tommy.” You turn and raise your arms to place your hands on his broad chest. His fingers fidget with the red trim of your sundress, one of his favorites. “You like my dress honey? I like this one too, I wear it to ensure you stay grateful for this pretty little wife you got.” You giggle and cover his hands with your own, but only manage to shade a finger or two.
“I made you pie again Tommy, peach crumble! It's right on the counter. Lemme cut you a slice.” You smile warmly before turning to walk to the countertop to your right, but you don't manage. Tommys' hands are glued to your hips, keeping you grounded like a statue on the floor. “You don't want pie, baby?” You ask, sweetly of course. You knew Tommy wasn’t focused on your pie right now, you knew from the second you heard his feet shuffling outside that he had some steam he needed to release, and you’d be damned before you said you didn't want him to take it out on you.
You look up at his lust-filled eyes and reach to untie his sweaty mask. You didn't like that he always felt he had to cover himself up, but you understood it brought more comfort to his everyday life. As the mask fell, you could hear his shaky breaths practically calling for you. You got up on your tiptoes and pursed your lips, so he reciprocated, bending his head downward and capturing you in a warm, desperate kiss.
His hands on your hips lifted your body off of the ground, unconsciously, making your face line up with his. You wrap your legs around his waist, not making it all the way, but you were stable as his hands moved down to cup your ass. You whimper into his mouth, grinding your little hips against his big tummy, and running your fingers through his messy hair.
He lets out a single huff before turning on his heels and taking you to the bedroom. After storming through the doorway, he tosses your body onto your’ neatly made bed and begins to undress. You take his cue and do the same, unzipping your flowy dress and slipping off your white panties. Leaning back in your bed, you take in Tommys' body, how the veins in his hands bulge as he unbuttons his shirt, and how tight his pants look on his thick thighs.
Once he's fully bare, he slowly stalks around the bed, looking you up and down like a piece of meat he’s longing to devour. Suddenly, he yanks you down by the ankles, making you lay flat on the bed. He pushes himself to his knees at the end of the bed, settled between your now parted legs. He shuffles forward a bit, then pulls you by the knees until your legs wrap around his hips.
He bends forward, towering over your frame. He takes your legs and pulls your feet over each one of his shoulders. Your thighs are pressed to your stomach as he settles an arm on both sides of your head. His hair falls around your face, and you reach up to kiss his pretty pink lips. You feel his girth slipping over your slit, and you reach your hand down to press his throbbing cock to your little bud. He groans at the touch of your hand and you begin to rock your hips back and forth, covering his length with your slick.
Not long after, he begins to rock his hips against yours in tandem. His forehead touches yours and you can feel his warm breaths covering your face. On one of his slower thrusts, the tip of his cock caught on the rim of your hole, making you take a sharp breath in. Tommy looks at you to make sure you’re okay, then slowly slides his fat member into you without warning.
“Tommy! Jesus, baby slow down.” You whimper out. The intrusion makes your lips quiver and hands grip the sheets, so he takes your arms in one of his hands and moves them to wrap around his neck, immediately latching onto his hair. As he settles his hefty body on top of yours, his tummy pressing down tightly on yours, he pushes even further forward, trying to get as deep as possible.
Your moans turn into choked-out groans as he slowly pounds into you. Your toes curling and heels digging into his damp back. He lets out deep groans and uses his hand to wipe hair from your face. He cups your cheek and kisses you, a distraction from the ache of your stretched hole, struggling to accept his large cock.
His thrusts pick up in pace, and he buries his face into your neck. His hands slide down to grip your hips, and he maneuvers your body to slam down on his cock in time with his thrusts. In a state of complete cock-drunk bliss, you struggle to let out a whine as you feel your peak approaching. Rolling your eyes back, you grip his hair between your fingers and give it a little tug, before feeling the warmth of your orgasm explode through your body in ripples of pleasure.
Your back arches and your legs shake, the feeling of your pussy clenching over his length makes him whimper, and his thrusts become fast and shallow. You whine at the feeling of him abusing your overstimulated warmth, and Tommy leans down to bury his face in your breasts and grips your hips almost bruisingly in his hands, quickly reaching his orgasm himself.
He wraps his arms around your back and pulls you as close to him as possible before letting out one more deep thrust and filling you to the brim with his seed. He groans and flips over on his back, taking you with him. You lay over his body, feeling his cock softening inside you as his spend drips out. You both catch your breath and relax, his hands rubbing gently over your back.
You close your eyes and let the cool air of night take you both to sleep.
Summary: It’s the 1960s and Luda Mae frowns upon premarital sex like any good Christian woman. You and Tommy are young, hot, and in love but the only problem is that Tommy was raised to wait until marriage and never lets you two go any further than kissing and some groping.
But the devil lives in the hot Texan sun and even God takes a break from the summer heat.
Notes: this is super short, just pure smut, self indulgent I’m obsessed with big boy Tommy 😭😭😭 i swear I’m working on part 2 of my sister Sinclair fic but Tommy has me in a choke hold and I needed an outlet.
No TW that I can think of other than bad smut and maybe ??? Coercion??? Cause Tommy wants to be a good boy and stop before y’all go too far but you flash him and then he’s absolutely 100% in. A bit of religious stuff, period typical sexism but vaguely. Let me know if I should add anything else and I’ll get right on it. Reader isn’t ever referred to using “she/her” pronouns but is described as having breasts and does have female genitalia so I tagged it fem reader to be safe
Enjoy!!!
The early morning sun burned, chasing away what little cool air remained of the night before. While the barn shaded you from the unforgiving sun and hid you from disapproving eyes — or lecherous in the case of the older men of the family — it also trapped in the heat your two bodies gave off.
Thomas pressed his open mouth to your own, tongue swiping over your teeth eager to taste you. Your hands gripped his dark hair, ruining any half-effort attempt he had made earlier in the day to smooth down his unruly hair. He held you in his arms, body pressed tightly against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his large frame hiding you even further from prying eyes than the shadowed corners of the old barn. The kiss was deep and hungry and served as a brief respite from Luda Maes ever watching eyes. While she had been fine with you living with the family before you and Tommy were married, she forbade you from sharing a room or being intimate, a rule she absolutely refused to budge on and one that Uncle Charlie took a strange glee in ribbing you about. But much like the Texan heat, the heated looks you gave each other were unavoidable and only grew hotter as the summer days went on. Luda Mae wanted to wait until the following spring to make your union official but at the rate the town was drying up, there wouldn't even be a priest to officiate the ceremony, much less any guest to attend. You highly doubted anyone outside of the family would want to witness your union anyway but still, Luda Mae didn't want the few who would to get wise and start counting months.
These stolen moments in the barn were as good as you could get — and by god were they good.
Tommy’s large hands groped at your breasts, pawing roughy at your nipples through the worn fabric of your old dress. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the familiar position of being sprawled out on the barn floor, coarse hay a discomfort you had long learned to endure for the sake of pleasure.
You desperately thrust your sex up onto his growing bulge, whining when he groaned and pinned your hips with his own, preventing you from getting your desired stimulation. “Please Tommy,” you beg, lips separating, “We don’t have to do too much, I just wanna touch you.” You press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, pulling softly at the flesh with your teeth and tongue dragging across the bites to taste the salt on his skin. Your hands eagerly worked to untuck his faded green shirt and wrap around him, roaming the vast expanse of his back. His whole body shuddered in your arms, an attempt to hold back from eating you whole.
You know Thomas will put an end to your romp soon, the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he shuts his eyes a sign that he's reaching his limit, that if you two don't stop now you won't be able to stop — but that’s exactly what you want.
You're tired of holding back, of this constant edging you have to endure when you’re in his presence and it gets harder every day. Just yesterday afternoon, Uncle Charlie sprayed Tommy with the hose, telling him that he was filthy and needed to get out of those clothes before he went inside. Watching as he undressed by the back door so that you could put his clothes on the line to dry had nearly given you a heatstroke — and if Charlie’s leering grin was any clue, you swear he did it on purpose in an attempt to rile you up. You ran off before you sinned right there in the yard, the memory of Thomas's shirt clinging to his arms, his chest glistening with water had kept you company well into the night.
So before Tommy puts a stop to your roll in the hay you make your move. You lift your dress up past your breast and expose yourself to him, you can see his breath stutter in his chest, this was quickly becoming the farthest you two had ever gone.
“Just watch me, Tommy, watch me,” you say breathlessly.
And he does, he sits on his haunches like a predator, his engorged cock straining against his pants and imagining just a taste has your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his gaze fixated on the movement.
Sliding your panties off your legs, your fingers dip briefly into your wet hole, gathering slick to rub onto your clit. At the very first touch, you let out a shuddering breath and you watch as his shoulders heave.
You begin rubbing your clit at an intense pace already turned on from the earlier heavy petting, not once breaking eye contact with Thomas as you do. With each moan you muffle you see his eyes grow darker with desire breathing with his mouth open as though he could taste your scent in the air. When he finally lets his cock spring free you let out your loudest moan yet. It’s better than you ever thought. His cock is thick and heavy, drooping slightly under its own weight but still undeniably firm. It curves slightly and you imagine that if it was inside you it would scrape against your walls in a way you've never been able to do with just your fingers.
Thomas grips his cock firmly and gives it a few tugs, eyes alternating between hungrily drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression and your dripping pussy. You buck your hips, desperate to press your clit against your fingers and Thomas jerks his length even faster, rubbing his tip and spreading his precum on his hand.
God, you wished it was you that was touching him.
Thomas settles onto his knees and after a brief hesitation begins to shuffle closer to you. The sight of him crawling to you on his knees with his dripping length in hand made your pussy clench around nothing and you let out a whimper. You remove your fingers from your clit, feeling the heat radiating from his cock as he settles on top of you, legs spreading around his waist, your hips slightly raised and resting on his thighs.
The tip hesitantly pressed against your clit and your moan fills the small space before you can suppress it. This was better than you were hoping and it felt as though you were pressing against the boundaries the lord had set for you. Tommy’s eyes find yours looking for reassurance, asking without words, “Do you think this is okay?”
You find enough comprehension in your lust-addled brain to come up with a coherent answer, “It should be fine, I think,” you stammer out, “I mean, it’s not like — not like you’re putting it in so, it should be fine.”
You’re not overly familiar with the word of God outside of Sunday services and Luda Mae’s lectures, both of which you were forced to attend and spent tuning out in favor of watching the sweat build on Tommy’s brow while he worked through the window.
You think that if God could feel the weight of Thomas like you did, feel the heat like you could, you think he’d forgive the sin of your act.
It seems like that was all the reassurance that Thomas needed because no sooner than the words fumbled their way out of your mouth that he begins to drag the length of his cock against your slit.
God, if this is what hell was supposed to be like, burning and full of decadence, then perhaps you didn’t mind being a sinner.
The way he ruts against you is euphoric. Heavy breaths escape you both and you can’t help the words that spill from your lips.
“God, Tommy, I wish you would put it inside me,” you whine out “‘wanna feel your fat cock in my pussy, wanna get filled,” you might as well be begging at this point, and Tommy's increases his pace to the point that you think he wants the same thing, that he’s desperate to thrust into you rather than against you and —
And then the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you both stop breathing.
“Maybe — Maybe it doesn’t count.” You stammer out, “It didn’t go in and it’s just the tip, and I don’t think that the tip counts” With the slightest twitch of his hips the tip of his cock has slipped inside.
"It's - it's just the tip it's fine” Your words sound empty even to you but the reassurance is all Tommy needs to push forward and let the head of his cock slide into your welcoming heat
His soul nearly leaves his body when he feels your raw pussy on the head of his cock. He jerks his length furiously and your fingers begin to move against your clit again, eager to meet your high with Thomas.
But it’s not enough. He was right there, right there just one push of his hips he’d be right where you needed him
“Please Tommy” Canting your hips slightly so the tip begins to dig deeper into you, you begin to plead once more, “wanna feel you fill me up, wanna remember the shape of your cock please”
Thomas feels years of control break at your words and with one swing of his hips, he bottoms out instantly. You feel like you've been punched in the gut as the air rushes out of you and you let out a sound like a wounded animal. Tommy stays still deep inside you, shaking and heaving, absolutely drunk on the feeling of your soaked walls clenching vigorously around his length.
You feel full in a way you've never thought possible. His length throbs, its girth stretching you in a way that burns.
When he finally starts thrusting, you’re not ready. He’s like a man possessed, solely focused on the feel of you around him, your skin pressed against his, his blood pounding in his ears.
“Wait— Tommy, ah, slow — slow down, oh god!” You can’t hold back your moans and he can’t stop, both fully engrossed in the feel of each other with no control over your own lust. Thomas crashes his lips onto yours in a halfhearted attempt to keep down your moans, it’s sloppy, clashing teeth and drooling tongues, spit escaping your lips, unlike any you’ve shared before.
This is completely different from what you’ve imagined your first time together would be like. It’s not your wedding night, you're laying on the dirty barn floor and there’s absolutely nothing gentle about the way Tommy is ravaging you. Your pussy is sopping wet and with every thrust, it lets out an embarrassing squelch, your juices and Tommy’s pre-cum leak down your ass and make a sticky mess in his dark pubes.
He doesn’t stop even as your walls spasm around him, cumming on his cock and digging your nails into his strong back. He works you through your orgasm even as your mouth clumsily forms the words to beg for him to slow down or to give you a moment. It’s too much, the sensations completely overloading your brain and all you can do is hold on tightly to him, lost in the ecstasy of your release.
Thomas lets out a deep, guttural groan as he cums, hips stuttering as he bullies his fat cock into the deepest part of your sex, filling you to the brim and your vision goes white.
Boneless, neither one of you makes a move to separate from the other, so thoroughly satisfied and content to lie where you are holding each other, Thomas’s softening cocking slipping out of you and spilling his release onto the ground.
His weight on you is comforting, you gently press kisses to his face and bask in the way his heavy breaths caress your sweaty skin.
“I love you.” You whisper into the shell of his ear and he squeezes you against him, repeating the words in his garbled voice the best he could. Your love is just for the two of you, no one else had a place in your world, no one else had the right to peak in on your affection or gawk at your differences.
This moment in time was just for the two of you.
“Thomas! Where the hell are ya, boy!”
Well, until Uncle Charlie’s voice brought you back down to reality.
Tommy brought you things when he came to see you. Fruit, candy, clothes, old pillows. He brought you a “real” dress that he had tailored to be smaller. You didn't ask where it came from. He showered and washed his hands for you, and one night, he wore a different shirt - one with a swashbuckling vibe. It was white, with roomy sleeves, and stitches that told you he’d made or modified it himself.
He’d take you to the outhouse, but nowhere beyond the Hewitt family’s run-down property.
With your head buried in Tommy’s shoulder one night, you sniffed his clean locks and said, “You smell so nice…”
With his big hands loosely around your waist, he gave one side an appreciative squeeze, then hugged you closer and patted your head.
“Does it feel good, too?” you asked.
He nodded.
“I love that feeling. I would like to have a bath,” you said. “It would make me really happy.”
Tommy loosened his embrace and huffed. He looked up at the corner of the ceiling as he gave it some thought. He petted your hair.
—-
Later, Tommy returned with dinner. Along with a sandwich and water, he brought a towel. Bundled in the towel was a bar of soap and a scrap of butcher’s paper. The butcher’s paper appeared to be printed, but at closer glance, it was a drawing. The strokes were crude, but they made up an image so pretty it made your breath hitch. A big moon, reflected in a body of water. There were rocks in the water, and on the shore, two figures sat, one much bigger than the other.
“It’s us,” you observed, and he nodded. “I like it,” you added. “Can it be tonight?” With a single nod, he left you.
-
In the middle of the night, he returned. He wasn't wearing an apron. His clean hair was freshly brushed. He picked you up and carried you through the woods. Barefoot, his heavy steps were careful enough to avoid attracting attention. Crickets chirped, and raccoons scampered. The rhythm of his walking was comfortable, and as the walk went on, a bubbling stream began to add to the lullaby of the forest.
You’d nearly fallen back asleep in his arms by the time the steady rhythm of his legs slowed to a stop. You’d reached a clearing. There was a creek. You were right at the bend of it, and there was a pool of still water, surrounded by rocks.
He sat you down with your feet on the cool dirt that sparkled in the moonlight, and he knelt to undress you. Then he held your hand–so much smaller than his–and began to walk you into the water.
“You’re staying dressed?” you asked.
He hunched his shoulders down, embarrassed.
“It’s dark out here… there’s no one around… You don’t have to be embarrassed.” You tugged his hand, bringing him back toward the shore. Then he stood there as you unbuttoned one of his lower shirt buttons. He started at the bottom, and you met in the middle.
In the moonlight, you imagined you saw a blush falling over his face. When you reached for his pants, he jerked back. When you smiled up at him with pleading eyes, he watched curiously as he let you do it. You wedged your hand between his belly and waistband to unbutton his pants. You dragged down the zipper, and felt his manhood through the fabric, against your knuckles. Your loins heated and tingled. When his pants were dropped, he grabbed his crotch protectively. He didn’t let you take down his underwear, but he faced away and did it himself. Some people looked smaller outside their clothes. Not Thomas. He was stronger, more sturdy. Towering.
He was so thick and imposing. There was something so primitive about him, like at any moment he might put on a loincloth and head out to spear a wild boar for dinner. He was so much man, and his presence was felt in every cell of your skin, just from being nearby. “I think you're really so handsome,” you said, looking at the creek. “So strong.” He picked you up with his hands under your arms and sat you on his hip as he waded into the water. Having your naked legs spread around his solid torso made you tingle.
When the cool water of the creek bit your toes, you squirmed, and Tommy’s eyes squinted with a smile. He walked slow, and he gave you time to work up your courage before he waded in deeper. Step by step,
He held you until he was sure you could reach the bottom.
“It's okay, I can swim,” you told him. He looked impressed. “You can't,” you asked, and he shook his head. “It's okay, you're really tall.”
He nodded.
“Maybe I can teach you one day,” you offered.
He raised his eyebrows as he hugged you and looked at you with his soft blue eyes, like you had just said something beautiful, and you had: ‘Maybe one day.’
He held the bar of soap, then he carefully waded you to a more shallow area, and marveled at your naked beauty. He lathered your body, careful not to be too rough, his eyes admiring every inch of your skin.
He covered you in soapy water from your neck to your toes and watched the suds slide down between your breasts. The beautiful sight sent a pang to his cock, making it stir awake with need.
When you were all soapy he left the bar of soap on the rocks and helped you toward the running water. He used his hands to help rinse you, along with the current of the creek. “This feels so good,” you told him. “Thank you. I love to feel clean.”
Tommy bathed himself, and when you were both finished, you lingered in the creek a bit more. You put your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist and when his hard cock a was in the way, your lips fell open and your cheeks heated. He looked down, embarrassed.
“It’s okay,” you reassured him, and hugged him tighter with your legs, pressing your cunt against his girthy tip.
He froze, chest heaving, like he didn’t know what to do.
“I bet it's pretty here in the day,” you said.
He nodded, held you with one arm, and used his free hand to make a fish-like motion in the water.
“You fish here?”
He nodded.
”Can I come next time?” you asked. He hesitated, looking around deep in thought, trying to figure out how he could make it work.Then he offered a small nod.
“Thanks,” you squeezed him with a hug.
Holding you in his arms, and he was so cozy, you could have forgotten about the semi-hard cock resting right against you underwater. But your pussy never forgot. She was drooling for it. Even when you were lulled nearly into slumber by the gentle current and the trickle of the creek and the smell of Tommy and the strength of his arms….even when you began to fall asleep again, your clit was throbbing.
You woke up when he lifted you out of the water, then placed you on a massive, flat rock to dry off.
“I like it here,” you said, sitting up on your elbows, looking up at the night sky while he toweled himself off.
He put on his underwear, and pulled on his pants and shirt, leaving both unbuttoned.
Then he knelt on the rock with water dripping from the ends of his hair. He began to put your dress over your head, but then he paused and left it covering your eyes.
“Tommy,” you giggled.
The dress was white and just thin enough that you could make out his silhouette in the moonlight. When both his hands reached for his face, your heart skipped a beat.
He removed his mask and held his hand over his mouth and nose for a moment, rubbing his cheeks.
You swallowed and waited.
After a moment, he loomed toward you and with a gentle hand on your chest, urged you into lying down flat. He cradled your head and let it down gently onto the rock. Then, he placed his mask loosely over your face.
You let out a quiet giggle. He could be silly and sweet. A whiff of leather and sweat found its way into your nostrils - the mask smelled like hard work and masculinity.
Tommy’s hands skimmed over you, admiring the way the moonlight carved your silhouette.
The damp tips of his hair dragged along your chest, then he kissed each of your breasts. He licked your nipple and sucked as much of your breast as he could into your mouth. Still sucking, his mouth opened and closed slightly. His strong tongue brushed the lower curve of your breast.
He repeated this on the other side, moaning into your breast as he experienced your teat in his mouth. He let some of your breast out of his mouth, but kept your nipple between his lips as he reached between your legs, and they opened for him. He sharpened his tongue to circle your areola, further hardening your nipple as his fingers found your slick pussy. The sensations made your skin erupt with goosebumps. A drop of creekwater rolled off your breast.
Tommy’s mouth broke away with a heavy breath as he slid one fat digit into your cunt. The downside of leaving his mask on *you* was that he couldn't see the sweet little faces you made, but he could imagine them. He could see the way your back arched and your nipples stood, and the little bumps and hairs stood on end–all the pleasure he was causing you.
He pushed his fingers as deep as it would go, then slid it almost all the way out, before squeezing another, longer finger into your slippery heat. Your walls hugged him and curled his fingers. Slowly moving his curled digits, his fingertips studied the texture of your warm, soft walls. When he found an interesting spot, he probed it, making you whimper.
Tommy wasn't a worldly man, but he had better instincts than many: He knew to keep doing what he was doing to push those pretty sounds out of your lips. Paying such close attention to your body and your reactions was largely a function of his curiosity and his strong need to discover every little part of you. It also had the effect of making him a generous, intuitive lover.
With two fingers in your cunt, he rested his thumb on that special place in the front.
He worked his fingers, watching you squirm and writhe until your hips jerked, and you gushed sweet pleasure all over his hand. He watched with amazement as his hand glistened with your release. His fingers slowed, then were seized by your cunt. You gasped and whimpered as you came on his fingers. “Tommy,” you whined.
His breaths had become more audible, and his free hand was wrapped around his cock.
When you were finished squirming, his fingers slid out of you. Right away, he brought them to his mouth, and the taste of your release made him ravenous.
He laid one hand on your chest, then slid it down to your belly, and his breath hit your cunt as his face found its place between your legs. He lapped up every drop, licking and sucking, and dwelling at your clit. His tongue dug for more, exploring your folds, then plunged into your cunt.
Your thighs trembled, and he steadied them with his hands.
His face was smooth against your sensitive skin. It hadn’t occurred to you before, but it did then: How strange that he would take such care to shave his face, only to cover that part of it. Would he ever show you himself? It felt closer than ever, but the thought (and all thoughts) left your mind as his strong tongue penetrated you, plunging ever deeper, until his nose nudged your clit, perhaps for the first time.
You reached down to put your hand in his hair.
“Tommy, you're so good,” you said, and his chest rumbled with a growl. You quickly spiraled into another climax, with your little body shaking under him.
“I can’t–it’s–no more,” you panted, and his tongue slipped out of you.
You fingered his hair affectionately as you caught your breath and heard his hand squishing on his cock.
“Will you let me taste you?” you asked.
He tapped your cunt longingly with his thumb, and then with the heavy head of his cock.
When he was still and quiet, then tapped it again, you realized it was a question.
“Okay,” you giggled. “But can I taste you again one day?”
“Mmm,” he grunted, the closest he’d come to verbal communication.
“Good, good, I can't wait…. Ugh, I always love to feel you.”
He notched himself at your entrance, then shoved in. The fullness made you melt, as always. Every time he was inside you made it harder to imagine ever giving up this fullness you couldn’t find anywhere else.
He was slow and soft with you, compared to the man that he was… compared to what you'd seen him do. He was measured and careful and still so powerful. Burying himself in you, he forced your insides to spread around his cock. It didn't take long until you were on the verge of coming again. You were fading, overwhelmed by the repeated surge of chemicals flooding your bloodstream with each release.
His speed and power only increased until he unloaded massive bursts inside you.
When he finished, you were still and quiet, and your hands laid limply to your sides. He nudged you with his fingers, then took his mask off you, and your lips parted under the lace hem of the fabric over your face. You awoke with a sigh.
Tommy lowered his head to your chest for a moment, dwelling in the comfort of your heart beating against his chest.
Then, he lifted the dress off the lower half of your face as though it were a veil, just enough to expose your lips and nose.
He gently cradled your jaw between his thumb and two fingers, then lowered his face.
He pressed his lips into yours, and you reached for his hair. It was a slow, gentle kiss.
When he pulled back, he put his mask on again, and finished putting your dress on you, pulling it down so your head emerged from the neck hole.
You sat up, and his eyes were smiling.
“You know... you don't have to wear that,” you told him. His gaze became more pensive, then he tilted his head, and caressed your cheekbone with his thumb.
He carried you back to the shed, cradling you like a baby, and it didn’t take long at all for you to fall asleep again. He glanced down every few steps to watch your peaceful face, and he managed to move so gently that you stayed asleep as he nestled you into the space where you slept. It was the place he had made for you.
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING <333 if you liked it please lmk - it Helps a lot!🖤🫂✨️
coming home from work and things are being misplaced aka: food clothes items of importance or small importance, that didn't realize we're gone until you actually needed them or things being flat out moved spots. aka: blanket on the side of the couch is now on top of the couch, your favorite drink is now in the back of the fridge behind a drink you barely drink. Bread on the second shelf of the counter instead of the top, Or your tooth brush on the right side of the sink instead of the left. Vise versa But you brush it off as you forgetting things or misplacing them yourself until one your day off, exhausted for working 10 hours all wall week for collapse on the couch and wake up to a large gruff man tugging aggressively on his dick to get off to your pretty face before you wake, only to wake up and for him to get so excited he blows his thick load all over your face and then crawls back into the attic like nothing happens. And all you can do is fall back to sleep. Maybe it's the stress, and exhaustion getting to you until you wake up with dried cum and added loads onto your face the next morning eerily fresh.
SUMMARY | This new man, the tall man with the icy somber eyes and expressionless mask, appeared above you, haloed in sunlight like an angel. By all accounts, he was a far more terrifying man than John or Mike or David, but you don’t see evil when you look at him, when his eyes meet yours for a brief second before looking away. No, not evil, but a familiar reflection, an unkind life that led to unkind circumstances and unkind decisions. You know the look well, it’s the same one you see in the mirror.
WARNINGS | 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT; DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT - this is slasher fan fiction with canon typical violence, mentions of blood, death, cannibalism and gore. if slasher fiction is not your cup of tea, please keep scrolling.
EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT: vaginal fingering, male masturbation, oral sex - f receiving, unprotected p in v, size kink, choking, creampie, praise kink
OTHER WARNINGS: no use of y/n, dual pov, able bodied reader, reader being picked up/carried, virgin thomas hewitt, no skin masks, monsters in love. if i’ve missed any tags, please kindly let me know.
Thomas hears a scream while he’s out in the barn. It cuts off so quickly he damn near thinks he imagined it but if he holds perfectly still and listens, listens, listens, there are noises that don’t belong. A grunt, a smack, a mumbled curse. Knife in hand, he ventures out in search of the source.
Out on the road there’s a car, hood up and smoke billowing from the engine. A man has a woman pressed to the driver’s side door, forearm tight against her throat and a knife poised in front of her face. Red creeps into Thomas’ vision and his fingers begin to ache around the hilt of his own knife but just as he steps forward, something amazing happens.
The woman spits at the man’s face and in that brief moment of surprise, she brings her hands up and shoves the man back. He stumbles, falling to ground. The knife falls and she goes after it, lunging across the dirt and rocks. The man wraps a hand around her ankle, tugging her down and dragging her back as she screams, fingers digging into the dirt. She kicks, once, twice, the third time finally connecting with a painful crack to the man’s shin and sending him down to the ground again. She crawls away, grabbing the knife and scrambling to her feet. Thomas can see her chest heave with ragged breaths, skin glistening with sweat in the Texas heat.
He’s not sure he’s ever seen anything more beautiful.
She approaches the man, the knife brandished in front of her. The man rolls onto his back, holds his hands up. A surrender. The woman doesn’t care. Her boot slams into his skull, a shout echoing in the vast emptiness of the road and fields. Thomas feels himself grow hard, pants tightening around his cock. He reaches down, adjusting himself.
The man is on his hands and knees now. Blood streaks his face and drips to the dirt, baptizing the land in violence. She kicks him between the shoulder blades, knocking him flat on his stomach, and stands over him with a leg on either side of his body. The breath catches in Thomas’ throat as she reaches down and tangles her fingers in the man’s hair, lifting his head. The man stares directly at Thomas and his lips move, a cry for help, but he doesn’t hear it. No, not when all his focus is on the way the woman leans close and drags the blade across the man’s neck and the skin splits, muscles and tendons ripping with the force of it and red, red, red spilling free.
The man’s gaze grows empty and the woman loosens her grip, his head dropping to the ground. She drops to her knees, slams the knife into the man’s back over and over and over, roaring fiercely as she does. She’s covered in the red, red, red, clothes soaked through with it, skin stained and sticky. When she’s finished, she collapses on the ground beside the man, on her back, basking in the sun.
It’s then that Thomas approaches, his shadow falling over her, broad body blocking the sun. She blinks at him but doesn’t scream. Doesn’t run.
Thomas holds a hand out to her.
To his surprise, she takes it.
Your mind is somewhere in the clouds as you walk beside the lumbering giant that carries John or Mike or David over his shoulder like he weighs nothing, is nothing. The body bounces with each step and you find it almost comical, lips twitching as you fight a smile. Something simmers in your veins, more potent than the adrenaline of the fight or the relief that you won another day against life’s shitty hand.
This new man, the tall man with the icy somber eyes and expressionless mask, appeared above you, haloed in sunlight like an angel. By all accounts, he was a far more terrifying man than John or Mike or David, but you don’t see evil when you look at him, when his eyes meet yours for a brief second before looking away. No, not evil, but a familiar reflection, an unkind life that led to unkind circumstances and unkind decisions. You know the look well, it’s the same one you see in the mirror.
A house appears on the horizon, a two story Victorian era farmhouse that must have been impressive once before falling into a state of disrepair. There’s a woman on the porch, arms crossed over her chest and a stern look on her face as she watches the two (or is it technically three?) of you approach.
“Bring ‘im downstairs. I’ll tend to the girl,” she says. The man looks at you, hesitating to follow the command. You give him a nod, the slight dip of your chin enough for his shoulders to relax. His heavy footsteps rattle the dilapidated porch as he disappears inside the house.
The woman leads you to the kitchen and pulls a chair out from the rough wood table for you to take a seat. You watch as she wets a cloth before returning to your side. Cool water hits the hot skin of your face and the rough fabric drags away the dried blood. Her touch is surprisingly gentle.
“You do all that to the fella my boy was carryin’?” She asks.
“Yes,” you reply, voice cracking on the single word that claws at your vocal cords.
“‘Atta girl.” She smiles. “I’ll get you some water.”
“Thank you.”
She sets a glass on the table and you don’t hesitate to reach for it, chugging down the cold water so quickly it makes your stomach turn. She wordlessly refills it for you, twice, before murmuring a gentle, “That’s enough now, you’ll turn your stomach sour if you keep it up.”
“What’s with this fuckin’ car out on the road?” A voice yells from outside the house. Through the window you catch a glimpse of a man in a Sherriff’s uniform, shotgun held loosely in his hand as he approaches the house. The woman stands, wiping her hands on her apron.
“You don’t say nothin’, alright? You let me handle Charlie,” she commands. You nod.
The man appears in the doorway, eyes immediately landing on you. His leery gaze traces you from head to toe and you fight back the shiver that threatens to race down your spine. Your gaze drops to the floor as he addresses the woman.
“What’s with the whore?” He spits.
“She’s a guest.”
“A guest? This a bed ‘n breakfast all of a sudden?”
“Thomas brought her up here.” As if summoned by his name, the monster returns. He looms behind the other man, silent. There’s a bucket in his hand that he drops to the floor with a loud clang that makes you jump. The woman pats your shoulder.
“Tommy boy is takin’ in strays now, huh? What’s next, he’ll find himself some dumpster baby and finish buildin’ a whole happy family?”
The monster, Thomas, grows tense. His shoulders lift and the muscles of his arms flex, his eyes narrowed on the man who’s giving him a shit-eating smile.
“Tommy, honey, why don’t you bring your guest to one of the rooms upstairs?” The woman suggests. Thomas shoves past Charlie and into the kitchen and stands wordlessly by your side. She nudges your shoulder and you stand, following him as he stomps through the second door to the kitchen.
Shouting starts up as you leave, the words muffled when the door swings shut behind you. Thomas leads you upstairs to the second floor, where the hallway dark and a thick layer of dust coats anything it can reach. With a grunt he opens a door at the end of the hall and stands aside to allow you through the doorway.
The room is bare save for a small but tidy bed and dresser. Despite the dust in the hall, the room itself is surprisingly clean. You sit on the bed, testing the squeaky springs with your weight. You look up at the man.
“Your name is Thomas?” You ask. He nods, once, a sharp dip of his chin that has his dirty hair falling into his face. You tell him your name and his blue eyes blink back at you, the only acknowledgment you’ll get.
He lingers for a moment, eyes searching. It doesn’t feel gross, not like when Charlie leered at you downstairs. No, it’s more like he’s committing you to memory. You realize, then, that he’s not looking at you like a predator looks at prey.
He’s looking at you like you’re a prize.
Thomas slams the cleaver down, the thud of it rhythmic, soothing. His thoughts keep straying to ones of you, upstairs in the kitchen with his mama. You’ve been here for two days now and he’s having a hard time concentrating on his chores knowing that you’re in the house, knowing that you’ve stuck around for God only knows what reason. It makes him antsy, suspicious.
The door to the basement opens and he expects to hear Charlie’s boots stomping down the stairs but he’s surprised when you appear on the last step in an ill fitting dress that mama must have scrounged up for you. Thomas stands perfectly still as you look around the room.
“This is what you do all day?” You ask. He nods. “That must be hard work.” Mama shouts your name from upstairs, making you jump. You give him a sheepish look. “I’m supposed to come tell you dinner’s ready.”
Thomas grunts, setting down the cleaver and wiping his hands on his apron. He washes up in the bloodstained sink, scrubbing at his fingers as best he can. You’re still on the stairs when he finishes, watching him. It makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up, the way you don’t look away, ashamed of your staring.
You turn to climb the steps and he follows, a step below you. Your hips sway in front of him and he has visions of grabbing you by the hips, pulling you against his body so tightly you can’t leave, can’t leave, can’t leave.
Mama is sitting at the table when you both emerge from the darkness, bowls of stew set out for each of you. Thomas sits down to mama’s left and you to her right, across the table from him. The two of you chat about the chores she’s assigned you and are they too much, honey? No, you tell her, you’re happy to help. Mama smiles at you and he knows what she’s thinking, that you’re sent from God himself, the perfect addition to the family. The daughter she never got to have, only the fucked up sons she was cursed and forsaken with.
Thomas feels something prod his knee beneath the table and he freezes. All of your attention is still focused on mama, your head propped in your hand and your elbow on the table, relaxed as can be. He thinks maybe he just imagined it but he feels it again and this time he jumps, rattling the dishes on the table and sloshing stew from its bowls.
“Thomas! What’s the matter with you?” Mama asks, patting at her dress with a napkin. “You just got us all wet.”
“Yeah, Thomas,” you chime in. “Got me all wet and messy.”
By the look on your face, he knows that you’re not talking about the soup. He’s got some dirty magazines he snuck into the house over the years, women with their legs spread and their hands tied, glistening pussies on full display or the one videotape that Charlie got him, where the woman is split open on a man’s cock, begging for more as the lewd, slick sounds of sex grow louder and louder. The thought of you like that, maybe even because of him, makes his cheeks burn. He grunts, an apology, and his mama waves a hand at you both.
“You better get changed outta that dress before it stains. Can’t be lettin’ one go to waste so quick,” she tells you. You nod, standing from the table and heading for the door. You pause, looking over your shoulder at him and give him a wink. Mama clears her throat, a stern expression on her face as she looks at him.
“And you, boy. Go get yourself cleaned up and brush your damn hair for once. I raised you better than that.”
She didn’t, not really, but he listens to her anyway, trudging back down to the basement to hose himself off and change his clothes. As he cleans up, he thinks about you, because when hasn’t he been since you appeared? His cock hardens and he tries to ignore it, tries to think of the Bible lessons mama loved to teach and how it’s a sin to touch himself but maybe God will forgive him, just this once?
He wraps a hand around his thick length and squeezes, almost punishing himself. His head drops back and he stares at the ceiling, eyes wide as he tugs and pulls at his cock, slow at first then fast, fast, fast, fist flying with a tight grip until stars burst in his vision and warm come dribbles over his hand. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, blinking away the dark spots as his high fizzles out.
Thomas dries himself and gets dressed before lying down on the mattress in the corner to toss and turn until the sun rises.
The next morning, Thomas doesn’t realize that you haven’t come down from your room until well into the afternoon. Mama’s gone to town and Charlie is off playing Sheriff so it’s just the two of you in the house. He debates whether he should check on you or leave you alone but ultimately the worry that something might be wrong pulls him upstairs and finds him knocking on your door, a quick tap of his knuckles to the wood.There’s no sound from the other side, no shout of fuck off like he’d get from Charlie or a quiet just a minute, sweetheart he’d hear from mama. Tentatively, he turns the handle and pushes the door open, just a crack, enough to peek inside.
You’re in bed, sprawled out on your back with the quilt kicked off to the floor. Your bare breasts draw his eye and he looks away quickly, shame clawing up his throat. The bed creaks as you shift, sleepy noises leaving your lips in the process, and panic races through his veins, worried that you might wake up and find him standing there, worried that it might be what sends you running, worried about what mama will say if you up and leave and it’s his fault, worried, worried, worried.
“Thomas?” You ask, voice raspy. He didn’t even realize that you were awake, stupid, stupid, stupid of him. He should have turned around and left, should have—
“Hey, it’s okay,” you murmur, sitting up. Thomas hesitates, eyes still fixed on the floor. You must notice because from the corner of his eye he notices the quilt get picked up and then you’re telling him, “I’m decent.”
He swallows around the rock lodged in his throat and looks up, meeting your gaze. You don’t look mad or disgusted or upset. You’re actually smiling at him, a hand held out in welcome. He doesn’t dare touch you, but he takes a step closer, body moving like a moth to a flame.
Your head tilts to the side, assessing him, eyes flaying him open and leaving him feeling more exposed than when someone catches him without the mask. You’re holding the quilt up over your chest but Thomas can still see the tantalizing curves of your shoulders, the long line of your neck with the flutter of your pulse beneath delicate skin. It makes his mouth go dry.
“You ever touch a woman, Tommy?” You ask. The question catches him so off guard that all he manages is a strangled noise. “Well? That a yes or a no?” He shakes his head. You smile, lowering the quilt just enough to expose the top curve of your breasts.
“You wanna?”
Thomas’ eyes drop to your chest before quickly looking away. A flush creeps up his neck, staining what little of his cheeks you can see above the mask he wears. His hand flexes at his side, fingers curling open and shut.
“It’s okay, you can look,” you say, gentle, gentle, gentle, like coaxing a scared animal. He looks at you again, blue eyes wide. “Come closer.”
He shuffles closer, looming over the bed, back so wide that he blocks the sun streaming through the window and casts a shadow over your body. You reach for his hand and he jerks away, as if on instinct. You pause, giving him a few seconds of reprieve, then reach for him again, keeping your eyes fixed on his face. Lightly, you touch his hand and when he doesn’t flinch, you grasp it more tightly.
You guide his hand to your breast, settling his warm palm to your chest. He holds perfectly still for a moment and the restraint of it drives you insane, makes you bite your tongue so hard the taste of copper blooms across your tastebuds. Finally, he leans a little closer, fingers digging into your skin and making you gasp. He massages one breast, then the other, playing with the weight and feel of them in his large hands. You press your thighs together, cunt aching from the attention.
“That feels good,” you tell him, arching into his touch. The praise spurs him on, makes him more confident, and he starts to focus his attention on your nipples, pinching and twisting the sensitive buds. He’s surprisingly gentle despite his size and demeanor.
You kick away the quilt from your legs, exposing the rest of your body to him. His eyes trail down your body, hands going still. He looks up, tilting his head, asking a question, looking for permission. You nod your head quickly and your heart races as a palm slides down, down, down, until he’s cupping your pussy over your panties. Your hips jump at the friction.
“Oh, fuck,” you whine. Thomas holds his hand still as you grind yourself against his palm. You reach your hands down, holding onto his forearm with a death grip. “Please, please, please!”
His fingers slip beneath the elastic of your panties and you both groan. He plays with the embarrassing amount of wetness, smearing it over your skin. You guide his hand the slightest bit upwards until the calloused pads of his fingers swipe over your clit.
“That’s it, Tommy,” you tell him. “Right there, right there.”
Dutifully, he continues to lavish you with attention, taking every direction beautifully. Slower, faster, harder, he adjusts to every suggestion and has you moaning and crying his name in desperation, but it’s not enough. You’re right there, so close, but you feel so empty, you just need—
“Inside?” You ask. He pauses, brows pinching together. “Put your fingers inside me.”
Slowly, slowly, slowly, he eases one thick finger into your drenched hole. Your head drops back at the sensation, at the relief, and begin to grind your hips again. He starts to see the pattern, moving his hand so that he’s working with your rhythm. You look up at his face and the concentration in his eyes leaves you breathless. All he wants is to do good, be good, make you feel good.
Thomas presses another finger to your entrance, glancing at your face to make sure it’s okay. When you don’t say otherwise, he works both inside of you in tandem, the stretch making you groan. He curls them, exploring, skimming a spot inside of you that makes you cry out and dig your nails into his arm so hard that he grunts but doesn’t doesn’t pull away.
“I’m gonna come,” you tell him. “You’re doing so good, Tommy, oh my god.”
He’s panting, sweat dripping down his neck, muscles tight with his efforts to wrench an orgasm from you. The lethal combination of his fingers inside of you and his palm against your clit and the muffled noises sneaking past his mask have you tumbling over a precipice so high you worry you might never come down. Your cunt pulses around his fingers and you babble his name and an incoherent stream of praise as your release washes over you, wave after wave of it.
Thomas waits until your body collapses against the mattress and you’re gasping for breath before slowly removing his hand. He holds it up to his face, pink tongue darting out from the slit afforded for his mouth to taste your cum from his fingertips. He groans, his other hand reaching down to press tightly to the sizeable bulge in his pants. He thrusts against his palm once, twice, before going still, shoulders shaking.
A door slams downstairs. Luda Mae’s voice shouts for Thomas and he takes a step back, head whipping towards the door and eyes wide with panic. You scramble from the bed, grabbing your dress and pulling it on quickly so that you can rush out the room, shutting Thomas inside. You lean over the banister and see Luda Mae standing at the top of the basement stairs, hands on her hips.
“I think he went out to the barn,” you call down. She looks up at you.
“Why would he be out there?” She huffs. “And what are you still doin’ in your room? You look a mess.”
“Sorry, m’am. Had trouble sleeping last night.”
Your politeness softens her annoyance. “That’s okay, darlin’, you’re still learnin’ the ropes. I gotta go find Thomas, Charlie’s found some troublemakers.”
“If I see him first, I’ll let him know.” You nervously smooth your hands down your skirt. “What kind of trouble?”
“You don’t worry yourself about that. We’ll let the boys handle it, alright?”
“Yes, m’am.”
“Good girl,” she says. “I’ll be back.”
Luda Mae leaves through the front door and you return to your room. Thomas is standing where you left him, hands curled at his sides.
“You hear all that?” You ask him. He nods. “What’s going to happen?”
He walks to the window, peeks through the curtain. His shoulders are tense. When he turns back to you, he sets his hands on your shoulders and steers you to the bed, pushing gently until you’re sitting, the springs squeaking beneath your weight. He cups your cheek with one hand and points around the room with the other.
“You want me to stay in here?”
He nods.
“What if you need help?”
He shakes his head. He won’t need help.
“Okay. You better get down there.”
He nods again. Leaning down, he presses his forehead to yours, an approximation of a kiss. You smile at him when he pulls away. He lingers for a brief second longer before tugging open the door and disappearing from the room.
Trouble is heralded by the arrival of Uncle Charlie. You watch through the window as his cop car pulls up in the yard and he gets out, spitting curses you can’t hear. He waves a shotgun in the air, firing off a warning shot that makes you jump. You know Thomas told you to stay in your room but curiosity gets the better of you and you head downstairs.
Luda Mae is in the kitchen, sat at the table with a cup of tea. A piercing scream filters through the open window as she takes a tiny sip from her cup.
“You need somethin’, dear?” She asks, unperturbed by the interruption. You shake your head.
“No, m’am. Just came to ask if you needed help with dinner.”
“No, no, that’s alright. I got it covered.” Another sip. “Could you get the laundry from the line?”
It’s then that you realize she’s testing you. Earlier she told you to let the men handle it, but she wants to see where your loyalties lie. Thomas told you to stay put, to stay safe, but she’s sending you out to join the wolves because she knows, she knows, she knows that you’re just like them.
She just needs proof.
You smile. “Of course.”
On your way out of the kitchen, you slip a knife from the butcher block.
One of the men that Charlie dragged home writhes in pain, one leg bent at an unnatural angle. His friend takes off at run, pace as fast as his injured ankle will allow. They’re the last two that need to be dealt with. Thomas raises his chainsaw in the air, ready to end the animal’s suffering, but movement from the corner of his eye makes him pause.
The back door to the house opens and you stroll out into the yard, looking around frantically with a frightened expression. Thomas feels a rush of anger that you didn’t listen to him, didn’t stay up in your room, didn’t stay inside. The anger quickly turns to fear when he sees the other man, the one he intended to deal with later, rushes toward you. You take off, running across the field toward the barn.
Thomas cuts the gas, tosses the chainsaw aside. The muffled whimpers from the man on the ground piss him off and with one, two, three strikes of the heel of his boot, he silences him for good. He heads for the barn, red in his vision with every step. If the other man lays a single finger on you, Thomas will keep him alive but begging for death.
“Come on, we gotta get out of here,” a male voice shouts. “They’re goin’ to kill us!”
Thomas throws open the barn doors, the wood shaking with the force of it. You’re turned away from him and the first thing he notices is the knife held in a tight fist behind your back. The man stumbles to the ground, trying to scramble back from you as Thomas comes closer.
“No. We’re going to kill you,” you tell him. You spring forward, jumping on the man with a feral scream that sounds like music to Thomas’ ears. Your arms swing up, up, up and then slam down, down, down, burying your knife into the man’s chest over and over and over.
Thomas can’t wait anymore. He approaches you from behind and wraps an arm around your waist, lifting you away from the mangled body. You struggle in his hold and he hauls you over to a work bench, swiping the tools to the ground with his other arm and setting you on the surface.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say immediately, head shaking side to side. “I just wanted to help, I just—“
Your rapid apologies morph into a choked off moan when he lifts your legs, wrapping them around his hips, grinding his painfully hard cock against you. He buries his face into your neck, licking at the blood that stains your perfect skin, the taste of salt and copper opening a pit of hunger in his belly that could never be filled by food.
“Tommy,” you whimper, head dropping back. He licks and bites at all the skin he can find and when he runs out, he drops to his knees and begins anew on the muscles of your legs.
He pushes the fabric of your dress up, bunching it around your waist to expose your pussy, still covered by the same panties you wore earlier when he made you come on his fingers. Wrapping his fist in the elastic, he pulls until it snaps under the pressure, fabric falling away and leaving you completely bare.
Thomas pushes your thighs apart, spreading you open. He leans closer, biting at the soft flesh of your thigh, a little harder than he should. The tiny indents his teeth make in your skin are proof that this isn’t some dream. You’re flesh and blood, just like him.
Just for him.
His mouth waters as he nears your cunt, the earlier memory of your taste making that hunger grow to near starvation. His tongue slides over the slick flesh, exploring the dips and folds that taste so sweet it hits him like a sugar high, like when he’d steal a handful of candy from the corner store and eat it all at once, afraid of getting caught.
There’s a quiet thump and Thomas looks up to find that you’ve collapsed onto the table. Hands reach down and your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling on the strands. He remembers the spot that he rubbed with his fingers and searches for it with his tongue, knowing he’s found it when your thighs press against his ears and you moan his name like you did in your room.
“Oh, god! Just like that, Tommy,” you say, holding his head in place. “So good, so fucking good.”
He licks and sucks and grazes his teeth against you to his heart’s content and you writhe beneath him, bucking up against his face so fiercely he has to hold you down with an arm across your lower belly. He grows braver, dipping his tongue into the warmth of your cunt and drinking you from the source until you’re shaking. When he pulls away, he’s awed by the mess he’s made of you, your lips puffy and skin slick and shiny from your cum. He uses his thumbs to spread you apart, admiring the way your hole clenches around nothing.
Thomas stands, unsure of what to do next. You sit up from the table, expression dazed. Tear tracks stain your cheeks and a brief strike of worry hits him. Did he hurt you? Was that too much? Are you—
“Come closer,” you whisper. His thoughts go silent as he obeys. You reach up, cupping his face, hands trailing down to the strap of his apron. You lift it over his head and drops down, hanging limply.
Your arms wrap around his thick middle, working the knot of strings loose behind his back. It falls to the floor in a heap now and he stares at it, pulse racing as your hands roam to his chest. His breath stutters as your touch traces lower, lower, lower, until your palm presses against his cock and his mouth drops open at the pleasure of it, so different from when he touches himself or ruts his hips into the mattress. He can feel the heat of your skin even through the thick fabric of his pants.
You’re popping the button and dragging down the zipper, wrapping a soft hand around his cock and pulling it free. Thomas groans, loud and rough, as you slide your hand up, thumb swiping over the clear fluid gathered at the very tip.
You tug on his cock, hard enough that he stumbles forward, pressing closer. You look up at him as you rub the flushed head through your wetness and his shoulders shake at the sensation. You feel so good, so warm, he just wants to—
You notch him at your entrance and on instinct he thrusts forward the slightest bit, just enough that the fat tip of him sinks into tight heat. You gasp, eyes going wide and he’s once again struck with the fear that he could be hurting you, maybe he’s too big, too much of a monster, but when he tries to pull away you’re grabbing his shirt in a tight fist.
“Don’t you dare,” you hiss. “Keep going.”
Thomas obeys, just as he always does, pushing his hips closer, shoving his cock deeper, deeper, deeper. He watches his length disappear, your body stretching to accommodate his size. You look beautiful, with the tears that gather in your eyes and the blood smeared on your chest and the way your thighs shake with the effort to take him, that his chest aches, that last thread of control keeping him slow and steady snapping like his hips as he buries himself inside of you, completely and thoroughly.
You’ve never been this full before. You fall back on the rough wood of the work bench with a gasp, stars in your vision as your body adjusts to the sheer size of the man, the thick length of him splitting you open and leaving you breathless. He leans forward, the angle changing and tears spilling from your eyes as you stare up at the hulking monster above you.
“So big,” you gasp. “God, you’re so fucking big.”
His cock twitches inside of you and you moan, back arching off the bench. He feels so good, even through the burning stretch. You give a tentative wiggle of your hips and his eyelids flutter, a moan escaping him. When the pain eases into a dull ache, you lift a shaky hand to his face, settling your palm against the cool leather of his mask.
“I want you to fuck me, Tommy,” you tell him. “I want you to ruin me.”
His pupils grow impossibly wider and a shadow falls across his features, his demeanor changing in the blink of an eye. Gone is the man who was worried he would hurt you and in his place is the ravenous beast that matches the one clawing at you from the inside, just beneath your ribs where your chest aches with need. He draws his hips back until the tip is barely inside of you before thrusting forward. Your mouth opens, a scream ripping from your lungs but it’s cut short when a large hand wraps around your throat and squeezes.
Thomas is a man possessed, pounding into your body like it’s nothing more than a toy for his pleasure, filling your pussy to the limit with each stroke. The hand on your throat holds your body steady and he uses his other arm to lift one of your legs, then the other, your thighs pressed to his thick belly and your ankles by his ears. His moans mix with the lewd sound of skin against skin, a soundtrack of hedonism that you want to listen to on repeat until God calls you for judgment and sends you straight to Hell.
Your orgasm is quick to build, a pressure in your tummy that grows tighter and tighter until it bursts, all your muscles going taut with the force of it. Thomas roars, hands gripping your hips and holding you impaled on his cock as he floods your pussy with his release. You feel untethered, like you’re floating, and it’s not until you’re squinting into the Texas sun that you realize you are floating. Thomas is carrying you through the field, back to the main house, one arm supporting your back and other under your knees, holding you close to his chest.
Luda Mae is on the porch when he reaches the door, hands on her hips. He pauses and her keen gaze assesses you both. Finally, she smiles.
“Get yourselves cleaned up. Dinner is almost ready,” she says.
Wordlessly, Thomas brings you inside and down to the basement, where does exactly as he’s told.
Just as he always does.
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Summary: You get kidnapped by Johnny Slaughter at a bar and he brings you home to kill you. Leatherface ends up protecting you. To express your gratitude, you let him use you for his pleasure.
Word Count: 4,105
Warnings: MDNI, coercion, rough sex, smut
You’re screaming, flailing your arms around and fighting for your life as you get pulled inside the house. It was the dead of night and your kidnapper drove a long way to get here. You know your screams get lost in the darkness of the night, with not a soul nearby to hear your pleading cries.
“I found me a real pretty one huh, old man?”. The man is speaking to an older man. “Quit your playing round’ boy! Get it over with, supper's ready”. The old man doesn't seem amused and you're yanked away towards a staircase leading to a basement. Before the man forces you down the steps, your eyes get drawn to a room. It had a dining table in the middle, food already placed and ready on the table. In one of the chairs sat a large man. He wore a strange looking mask, both elbows on the edge of the table with cutlery in each hand, ready to dig into his meal. You manage to make eye contact with him, knowing there is not much he could do for you. For all you knew, he could be a fate worse than what you were about to face in this basement.
You look at him with your tearfilled, makeup smeared and terrified face. With the short seconds you got to share with the beast, you noticed a strange look on his face. His face looked softened, his muscles relaxed and his eyes looked intrigued by your desperate state. He tilts his head and you can't help but feed yourself delusions, was it pity… or sympathy?
The man tugs at you and you lose sight of the beast, hidden behind the walls. While being dragged down the stairs, his face was scarred into your mind. Your cries get more frantic, movements more hysterical but the man doesn't budge and you're met with a heavy slide door that leads down to the basement.
Not much time passes before you're hooked with your tied wrists to the ceiling. “Stay still. This will only hurt for a minute”, the man wears a smug smirk and his voice has hints of mockery. You can tell this amuses him. You've run dry on tears and energy to fight back, so your response to his demand was a mere defeated bow of the head. The man lifts his knife to your throat but before he is able to slice, the same slide door reopens and the beast is stood by the entrance.
“I'm almost done here, boy. I'll be up in a second”, his voice now irritated by the interruption. The beast takes heavy and confident stomps towards the two of you while letting out deep grunts. He halts in front of the man, still holding a knife to your throat. He finally lowers his knife and you feel it nick you, drawing some blood. “What's the matter with you, boy?!” the man snaps. The beast gets closer to him as if to intimidate him, or at the very least, making himself clear of his intentions without using his words. He gets in front of your hanging body, blocking and getting between you and the man wanting to kill you. “Oh I see, you want her to yourself?”. The beast nods and you're confused by the strange interaction. Other than the weird display and protection from the beast, you're left feeling eternally thankful for him saving your life. You're not sure how long the luck will last but for the moment, you let out a sigh of relief.
“I'll leave for you to take care of her after dinner. Let's go before the old man makes a fuss”. The man heads up the stairs but before the brute follows along, he walks over to you. He is looking up at your exhausted expression and you manage to make eye contact. He was wearing the same expression from earlier… It was kind. He lays his large hands on either side of your waist and unhooks you from the ceiling. Although he had rough and large hands, his touch was soft and movement gentle. He slowly brings you down to the floor and you feel like a feather the way your feet were carefully placed onto the cold stone surface.
He continues holding your waist while you're drowned into each other's eyes. “...thank you”. You finally break the silence. Your voice is soft and quiet, like the squeak of a mouse. He lets out a low grunt and to your surprise pulls you in for a hug. Your eyes widen at the suddenness of it all, he didn't say anything, he keeps you in his arms and gives you a squeeze almost as an apology for what you've been through. That's how you interpreted it, and you let him hold you as you’re absorbing his warm apology. All too soon, his warmth is gone and as he walks away and shuts the sliding door behind him. You're left missing his touch.
After what felt like ages, you hear the sliding door open back up and your heart skips a beat, scared it might be your kidnapper. You feel a wave of relief hit as you’re met with the large figure of the gentle giant. You hadn't moved much since he had left. With your time in solitude, you were thinking of ways you could thank him and as the man was walking towards you, your thoughts grew wilder. You’re sitting on your feet with your hands on your thighs, looking up at him towering over you. You look like a dog greeting its owner. As if he read your mind, he rests one of his large hands on your head, petting you as he admires your beauty. You lean into his touch and it feels good to feel something other than fear For once, you feel safe.
You slowly make your way back on your feet, all while never breaking the alluring eye contact. Your hands travel up his body as you stand up but his body seems somewhat stiff, confused- but not complaining. “I wanted to thank you for saving my life”. Your voice is sensual and very suggestive. As your hands make your way to his big bulge, you feel him get stiffer but this time he also pulls away with a disapproving groan. He looks down and shakes his head slightly. "It's okay… I just want to express my gratitude”. Your voice is gentle as you reach for his bulge again, now growing due to your touch. Once again he hesitates and pulls away with the same disapproving grunt.
The room you're in had a mattress leaned up against the wall. It had some signs of usage in the form of mysterious spots and holes, but given your situation, you didn't think too much of it. You pull on it, making it fall to the ground with a thud, letting some dirt and dust fly into the air. The giant watches you curiously as you prop its edges parallel to the wall. You turn around and watch him still standing behind you. You scoot over to sit on the mattress with your back leaned against the wall, hands resting on either side of you. You look up at him as you tilt your head and smirk slightly. You’re spreading your legs slowly, letting your skirt reveal your panties to the man in front of you. He looks completely stunned but you can tell he doesn't want you to stop what you're doing. “Just watch me then”. Your words escape you somewhat desperately as your attraction to the beast grows like an uncontrollable virus.
You let your hand find its way to your aching clit over your already soaked panties. You slide your panties off of you and leave your wet slit exposed to the air. You feel your spine arch and head shoot back as your fingers come in contact with your nub. You start to slowly rub your clit and move your hips in circles while making sure your legs stay spread for the man to have the best view possible. As you pleasure yourself, you have your eyes shut focusing on the stimulation, until you hear the man grunt and move around. You bring your head back and see him kneeled down at the end of the mattress. He continues letting deep groans escape his throat and he inches closer to you on all fours, slowly, and without breaking eye contact. You watch as the giant is moving towards you, his big body casting a dark shadow over you, making you feel smaller than you've ever felt. His eyes narrowed like he was finally seeing you as the prey you were meant to be. You rub your clit harder, as the view of him in this position made it impossible to tame your wild mind.
He stops right in front of you as he watches you pleasure yourself, licking his lips as if he was tasting your sweet pussy. You can't handle his lack of action so you grab his hand. He's confused by your touch but curious about you, allowing you to hold it. You hold onto his hand and start pulling it down to your pussy. You feel him protest and pull back again. "It's okay… you saw how I did it? Just do as I showed you and you’ll be fine” you try convincing and swaying his opinion with your gentle and sensual voice. You pull his hand but once again, he tries pulling away. “Look, I'll help you. Just please… I want you to touch me”, your voice is desperate and you want his long and thick fingers to fill your tight pussy.
You consider him defeated as you feel his hand soften. You pull his hands towards your sensitive cunt for the third time and this time he allows you. You wrap your whole hand around his middle and index finger. His hands were so big and that's all you could really fit in your small grasp. You bring his hand closer until you feel his rough fingertips come in contact with your clit. Both of you let out a gasp as a result of the contact. You use his fingers to rub your nub and fuck, it felt so much better than your own fingers. You continue rubbing harder and faster and the beast's wonderful grunts fill your ears as if he was feeling pleasure himself.
Without any direction from you, the beast unexpectedly pushes his index and middle finger into your hole. You let out a loud moan, making your own ears bleed. He doesn't understand what he's done but your reaction was something he was starting to get addicted to. He pulls his fingers back out and you hold his wrists, pulling on them to let him know that you wanted more. He pushes them back in, this time a little harder and you let out the same moan. You feel as the beast goes from hesitant and held back to him becoming progressively hungrier in his movements. He forces his big fingers into your hole, abusing it and you encourage him with your hysteric cries. He sees your white cream coat his fingers, confused by it, he brings it to his mouth and tastes your juices. You see his eyes widen as he's tasting you, licking his fingers clean before sticking them back into you to coat his fingers again, then licking them clean again.
He continues doing this many times until he realizes the best way to get the most of you was to bring his mouth to it. And that's exactly what he does, he lets his mouth find your pussy and immediately starts licking. He starts by giving you small licks, but the more he tastes you, the bigger the licks get. Until he finally started sucking as much of the juice as he could. He uses his hands to spread your pussy lips and sees your red and swollen clit stand out. Curious by it, he sucks on it and hears as your moans get as intense as ever. You grab his hair with both your hands and pull a little. That was all the signs he needed, now he was laser-focusing on your clit. He’s obsessed with your reactions and he sucks hard, he licks fast and sucks even more. “ff-ffuck mm gonna cum, please”. Your words escape in a broken scream but the beast doesn't stop. You feel your walls tighten and you cum in his mouth. He shows no signs of stopping and once he sees even more white cream leak out of your pussy, he licks it all clean. He shoves his tongue as deep as he can to taste as much of your sweet pussy as possible. You taste so good, he could never get enough and you moan loud as his tongue explores the inside of your sensitive hole.
His mouth is killing you. The air is heavy and the scent of your wet cunt is filling the room, making him lick his lips again. Once he calms down you pull away from him, knowing he could stay between your legs for hours. You position yourself to sit back on your feet. You touch his bulge again and he watches you, giving you groans of approval. You start stroking the outside of his pants. He was already hard but you could tell it wasnt to its full potential, yet it felt massive. You subconsciously take a gulp, anticipating and preparing yourself for his big size as you pull his pants and underwear down at the same time.
When his cock was fully exposed to you, you found yourself floored by his enormous size. Not only was it long, but the real shock was the thickness and girth of it. You've never seen anything comparable, just staring at it made your pussy throb. You can tell he’s fully confused by what you're doing, he has no idea about the purpose of the thing between his legs. “I wont touch it if you don't want me to. But can I please watch as you stroke it?”. Your plea is desperate and you're begging the gods above to have him accept your prayer. He looks down and a deep grunt escapes his throat and you can tell he’s confused by your request. He looks into your eyes as if to say ‘how?’ and you let a small giggle escape your lips. Has he really never done it before?
“Alright big boy, I'll show you how”. You give him a comforting smile, showing that you're not judging him. If anything, this made it even better. You grab one of his hands again and wrap it around his own dick. You see him grasping his cock and you can't help but bite your lip, being presented with the sight of his big hand wrapped around his big cock. You hold his hand with both of your hands and start to slowly stroke alongside his shaft, up and down. The skin on his cock moving with your rhythm, massaging his member. He looks into your eyes and his breathing gets heavy. Once he gets into the rhythm you created for him, you let go all together.
He continues stroking his cock, up and down, just like you showed him. “There you go, honey”. You see his eyes narrow and fill with hunger. He starts experimenting with different speeds at his own pace and you feel proud of him. You lean back towards the wall and spread your legs. You lick your fingers while looking into his eyes and bring your fingers back to your aching clit. You resume playing with your pussy and for the moment you sit in front of each other, both of you pleasuring yourselves as you watch each other. The beast gets more and more aggressive, the new sensation had him hooked and his movements were desperate. As he’s breathlessly stroking his cock, you grab his wrist with your hand, canceling his motion. He looks at you with lust filled eyes, excited for your next move.
You remove his hand from his dick and replace it with both your hands. You squeeze it in between your hands and admire his full size, it was beautiful but intimidating. You're stroking his cock and you feel it twitch as you move up and down, twisting, pulling and massaging it. Occasionally, you let your soft fingers circle around his tip, giving him an unreal sensation. The beast lets out groans like you've never heard before… but you weren't done here. You feel your aching and neglected cunt scream and beg to be filled. You decide it's time to finally give her what she wanted.
You pull on his shirt and direct his back to lay against the wall. You spread your legs and hover your opening over his cock as you rest your hands on his broad and strong shoulders. He holds your waist with both hands as he watches you grab his cock and align it with your entrance. Without giving him any time to prepare for you, you sink down on his cock. Both of you release loud gasps as you’re shocked by how well his tip alone filled you, and as he feels your warm and slippery insides. You don't go all the way down, you can't go all the way down but you continue bouncing up and down his tip, getting yourself wetter and slowly stretching yourself out for him. He lets out deep groans and you love how he's letting you know exactly how he feels. As you let your entrance play with his tip you take off your shirt. He looks at your tits and you see his eyes widen. You giggle a little to yourself and guide both his hands to play with your nipples. He gets the hang of it immediately and squeezes and pulls on your nipples. He didn't know what it felt like to you but by the way you moaned louder, he knew he had to continue doing it.
You hear the brute let out a frustrated groan, he's growing impatient with you teasing his tip and wanting to feel you all through his length. You let out a loud moan, bordering on a scream and he forces you to sit on his cock. You look into his eyes with your mouth agape, surprised by his action. You're not nearly ready for his full length and girth but he doesn't care. He pushes you all the way on his cock, forcing himself deep inside you. You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head and you go silent for a moment, trying to adjust to his size. He slowly pulls out, veeerryyy sloowwwllyyy and you feel every single inch of him as he's exiting your tight little pussy. With only a small bit of his tip still inside you, he thrusts back into you, hard and quick. You let out another scream and he lets out a deep grunt.
After a couple pumps, he starts getting more consistent and regular with his thrusts. You're amazed by how naturally it came to him. You’re hovering over him and he forcefully bucks his hips into you, sliding in and out as the sounds of skin slapping echoes in the empty basement. “fuckkk, just like that. You're doing so good”, your voice is weak and breathless but he had to know how good this felt, how good he felt. He lets his hips rest back on the mattress and you sit all the way down on his dick. You feel full of him, his girth pressing against your tight insides. You move around a little and cup his face with your hands. He's still wearing that mask but all you see are his stunning eyes and beautiful lips. You can tell they're soft.
As his cock is buried deep inside you, you lean in and kiss him. He's shocked and doesn't know what to do. He keeps his eyes open as he kisses you, but after seeing your closed eyes, he shuts them as well. He places his hands on your hips, squeezing it, feeling your tight pussy throb around his cock. He gets into the rhythm and you feel each other’s soft lips play with each other. You press into his face while still cupping it, your kiss gets increasingly more desperate as you start sliding up and down on his cock again. You continue riding his dick at a brutal pace, going faster and harder by the second. He helps you by pushing you down further everytime you bounce back up. You introduce your tongue to his mouth and he welcomes it, sucking and swirling it around his mouth.
You break the kiss and press your forehead to his, not slowing down from the bouncing on his cock. “I'm so proud of you, big boy”. You smile and you look down on the base of his shaft being completely drenched with your pussy juice, and his cock pounding in and out of your soaked cunt. The pitch black hair around his balls being white because of your white cream coating it. The wet and sloppy sounds of his dick thrusting in you is filling the room, you're surprised by how it's still audible over both of your moaning, screaming and panting. The way he's pounding into you makes you question his virginity, you don't believe it, there is no way. His eyes are too confident, his thrusts are too perfect and his dick is way too good.
He lifts you up from his cock and it makes a quiet ‘pop’ sound as his dick gets released from your pussy’s tight grip. He lays you down on the mattress and climbs on top of you. You can tell that he now knows what sex is, he knows exactly how to do it and you smile to yourself thinking of how the student has become the teacher. He slides his hands under your knee crease and let your legs fall over his broad shoulders. This way, he had a perfect view of your face as he pounds into you. He aligns his cock with your entrance and gives you a quick peck on the lips to prepare you for his cock. You smile at him, letting him know you're ready and you feel like you're about to burst. Every second without his cock inside you, was a second too long.
The beast didn't believe in slow and steady. He wanted rough and hard and that's exactly how he entered you. As he forces his cock into you, you're shocked by how much deeper he could get from this position. You didn't know the female body could have something this deep inside her but you learn something new everyday… You lay your hands on his chest as he pounds into you and you feel your walls tighten. “F-fucckkk…I-mmm… Imma cum!!!” You can hardly breathe, let alone talk as he's deep inside you. He's making up for years of not feeling this sensation. He’s furious this feeling has been kept from him and he's channeling all that frustration into drilling his cock harder into you. You feel his cock twitch and you can tell he’s close as well. Even though he doesn't say it, you're slowly learning what his different grunts mean. The ones he's letting out right now definitely meant ‘I’m gonna cum in your tight pussy’.
He lets out one last deep groan as he fills your pussy with his warm liquid. Continuing to pump into you to empty every single drop of himself. You moan so loud, it made your head spin and feeling his cum shoot deep inside you was a feeling unlike anything you've felt before. He slowly pulls out and you feel as the mixture of both your cum is leaking out of your abused hole. He watches as you squirm and shake from the trauma of the intense pleasure.
He lays down next to you and you get on top of him, resting your ear to his chest, listening to his fast and irregular heartbeat. You hug his massive body and close your eyes. You lay in silence for a while, catching your breaths and soaking in each other's presence. You look up at him, giving him a passionate and soft kiss. “Thank you for saving my life”.
credit for dividers: @y-onb @animatedglittergraphics-n-more @roseschoices <3
Pic source: middle•The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Part 2 & beg./end•Texas Chainsaw Massacre: Next Generation
Happy 5 days till Halloween!!! 🎃
Kinky? Not necessarily, but he could be with some practice and some explanations.
I cannot in good taste say this man is a Dom, I can hardly say he’s a Top. He will certainly Top for you if asked to but if anything it’ll be more of a case of him bottoming from the top. You’ll need to talk him through it too.
He can be really good and give you just what you want but where he really falls apart is at you bossing his ass around. He will forget he’s supposed to be in charge, okay?
Bubba can’t Dom for you if you want him to, he’s not naturally a Dom and can’t slip into the role very well. There’s some amount of lack of confidence there, but mostly it’s just a general lack of desire to dominate you that hinders him. Manhandle you to a certain extent, yeah, but truly taking charge of you isn’t something he’s as interested in.
No, he doesn’t want to hit you! What’re you talking about?
We all know he can be very domineering and intimidating, looming over and throwing around helpless victims, but that’s his ‘job’ and duty to the family. With you it’s different and he can just exist as your partner.
If you introduce kink into your lives/sex lives then you’ve got to be patient. Bubba will take to bottoming and even subbing eventually, but even with his sexual interest he’s still new to anything that’s not his fist and the occasional finger.
Just about dies the moment you mention pegging to him. He submits to you so well when you’re fingering him open and he’s loud, whimpering and moaning and begging nonsensically to you the entire time you’ve got him shaking apart and on the edge.
Refuses to be hit really. You might want to try impact play but, even with you, Bubba isn’t having it. Being hit reminds him too much of his brothers’ discipline and taunting for him to find it enjoyable. Hell, if you don’t talk about it beforehand and you slap him in the moment he’ll pull away from you upset and then you’ll have to put in the work of getting him comfortable with you again because you crossed one helluva line there.
Let this man dress up for you, he will lose his mind. I’m talking cock straining against his panties while you apply his lipstick, alright?
He speaks to you so softly like this, natural blush coloring his cheeks, but he’s not ashamed. He just needs you so badly.
Naturally, if impact play is off the table for him, degradation is too. At least for Bubba. He can’t take that shit and you will actually hurt his feelings. Even the lightest of degrading names will turn him off for a week, don’t try it.
Talking Bubba through everything is crucial. It’s crucial to varying degrees in any relationship, but with Bubba any slip up could nuke your connection and how safe he feels with you.
He will accept the sweetest kind of edging though. Praise him while you milk his cock and he’ll melt. Even as you’re denying him release, how soft you’re being with him will only work in your favor until he’s crying desperate tears and you finally let him come apart for you. He’ll get incredibly clingy afterwards so aftercare is something he’s already receptive to - you just have to get him comfortable with allowing himself that level of vulnerability around you - and so long as you don’t deny the poor man completely y’all’ll be alright.
Despite his hate for degradation and impact play he doesn’t mind subbing for you in general. He wants to let you take the lead and take his responsibilities off his shoulders for a while, even if just in non-sexual ways.
Denying him gratification, though, is the best way to make Bubba not disobey you and learn to stop pushing against your rules and you taking the lead whenever you two have sex or are in a scene. He hates being denied you or an orgasm, but it still doesn’t feel intense enough (as a punishment) for him to crash out.
Will get nice and dolled up and jerk off for you if you ask. Or he might just do it to surprise you one night.
Gets worked up easily. You already capture his attention at every turn, sexual advances on your part will work him up to full hardness in seconds.
Typically he initiates most often, but he tends to redirect himself really easily on his own if he decides he just wants your usual attention instead or if you’re not in the mood. Even hard he’ll shift gears until his penis has calmed down but he’s not immune to getting needy and you’re not immune to getting turned on by him whining for you while he’s trying to do his best not to dry hump you or the mattress.
Letting him hump himself to completion on your thigh while your hands on his plush hips stabilize him is peak. He gets so frantic and uncaring as he pants your name into your mouth and kisses you messily before throwing his head back and moaning wildly.
Most of the time y’all have sex it’s when everyone is out of the house because, short of you gagging him or making him hold his own hands to his mouth and taking full control, Bubba’s loud.
Worship this man. Body worship, cock worship, praise. Kiss his soft belly and suck hickies into his skin. He’ll soak it all up and with his little noises, brown hair sprawled underneath his head across his pillow, and blown pupils he’ll get you so goddam wet it’s not even funny. He’ll clean you up with his tongue so well afterwards too; he can’t get enough of your juices running down his chin and the way you taste drives him mad. Bubba will overstim you by mistake after holding you still through your orgasm with his strong arms if you let him.
He’ll eat you out on your period (if you’ve got one). Full stop, he’s so attentive while you’re menstruating and considerate of any pain you're having and will get you anything you need even if he sometimes misses the mark. The second you let him dive into your pussy once your flow’s at its heaviest he descends on you like a man starved and you can’t do anything but hang on to his hair and shake as he moans and squeals into your tasty dark, red tinted cunt with his tongue delving as far as it can go.
His face will be covered in so much blood afterwards and he won’t let a drop of that go to waste either. He’ll want to kiss you afterward though so whether or not you want to taste yourself like that or if you redirect your kiss to his forehead is up to you.
Call him pretty, he’ll shiver and preen and blush. Compliment his masks too, he worked very hard on them and wants to show them off.
It’s either a hard limit or it isn’t when it comes to letting Bubba keep any of his masks on during sex. He wears the mask for his own emotion laden reasons so him taking it off and being his bare self with you is something y’all will have to work on together.
Just casually running your hands through his hair will make him melt into you.
Force him to hold himself still while you masturbate in front of him.
Don’t tie him up, he’ll panic at being restrained. Just let him exercise his own self control and if he fails change the subject as a form of punishment. You’re still the only one who gets to orgasm but this time he doesn’t even get to watch since he couldn’t listen.
Because most of his victim pool tend to be rude and stupid you’ve had random people walk into the house and make it all the way up to y’all’s room to interrupt you before. You screamed, Bubba got fucking belligerent, you kicked somebody down the stairs, there was blood everywhere and you had to help Bubba clean it before everybody else got home. It was a whole thing.
He did start to lick the blood that had splattered against your skin off but you weren’t into all that after so much work, you just wanted to bathe.
Bubba gets very jealous. Literally just him seeing you talking to whatever poor fool managed to get within the Sawyer’s crosshairs makes him drop everything else he’s working on just so he can kill that person. It’s nasty too, how mean he is when he goes in on them; not even trying to preserve them for meat. He’ll fuck you in the blood too if you let him, just to further lord you being with him over the victim’s corpse.
Match overalls, cute outfits, or lingerie with him. He loves that shit and how much it makes him feel claimed but appreciated and like he’s unarguably yours.
He will absolutely let you collar him but you have to be very delicate with your language (he’s not an animal, and he will take offense to being regarded like one even in a kink sense) and you cannot be too rough. This is a huge act of trust for him, don’t squander it.
And never forget that this man is a chainsaw murderer, fuck with him too much or break his heart and there’s definitely a chance that’ll be the last bit of drama you’re ever privy to. Passionate emotions make Bubba sloppy too, and sloppy means your death will not only be excruciating but slow (he would also absolutely eat you to keep you close while he mourns).
Bubba has damn near no choice but to fall more in love with you and (more often than not) get turned on whenever you don’t take shit from his brothers or any smart mouthed trespassers.
He also might not be fit to Top or want to dominate you but he will absolutely participate in bondage and tie you up. And he would be very good at tying knots, it’s just teaching him the correct ways to tie you up safely (especially if you want to be suspended) so there’s no circulation issues and the like that you’ll have to take the time to do first.
Let him fuck his cock in between your pushed together tits. It’s an exercise of his own control when he’s horny, and the sight alone will have him creaming all over your chest. Not to mention how much he really likes seeing you covered in his cum. He'll clean you up, don't worry (…probably with his tongue).
Loves seeing you with his chainsaw. He’s worried, of course, and will be knocked straight out of any arousal if it’s on and you're anywhere near it. Seeing you handling it properly and bringing it to him for a kill does him in bad though. Add the usual maniacal glint in your deep brown eyes whenever you’re pissed enough to actually be an active participant in a kill and he’s a goner. Don’t let you get covered in blood or deal any blows to the poor person you want dead either, you’ll make the man drop to his knees for you then and there, and killing with a hardon ain’t easy work. The man wants to get active as soon as you’re done too so good luck with that.
The blood and bits of torn flesh stuck in your coils and/or sticking to your scalp and coating your body like a second skin aren’t exactly horny triggers for you…obviously, but he is very fucking into it. Fucking you whenever you’re like this is one of the few hard no’s you’ve had to give him, because you and some blood born disease were not getting acquainted you did not give a shit.
Honestly, show some love to him when he’s wearing his masks and he’ll lay down his life for you; you’re a major keeper at that point.
Overall Bubba is an otherwise recipient partner…if he trusts you. If not, you're dying full stop, that man’s temper is a force all on its own.
NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!! I really love this one! 🧡
Also, what can I say, I wasn’t even that humorous with this one. God, I always feel so awkward talking about sex.
btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!
Pairings: Brahms Heelshire, Bo Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt
Brahms Heelshire:
This was the day that Brahms had been waiting for, and this was the day that he became the happiest man in the entire world.
The time that Brahms was asleep, his body would still be reacting. His hands would be balled up in the sheets until his knuckles would turn white and his eyes would be shut tight. His hips slightly moved against your movement and his mouth would be open as quiet moans escaped.
He would let out a desperate whine before gaining consciousness.
As soon as Brahms realized what was occurring, he immediately went right into actions. His hips thrusted up each time you went down as he enjoyed the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat. It was music to his ears each time you gagged in his length and he felt a pride at the sounds you would make.
You knew Brahms would enjoy the surprise you had in store for him, so you waited until late at night before sneaking into his room. You found him laid out on his mattress in the perfect position. With only his boxers on, it was easy for you to pull out Brahms’ already semi hard cock. You didn’t bother wondering why he had a semi cause it seemed that Brahms was always horny.
You licked up a line of pre cum off the base of Brahms cock that you had watched dribble down, letting out a moan at the taste of his salty cum. Both hands wrapped around Brahms’ hard on as you jerked off the area you couldn’t fit.
It wouldn’t take long for Brahms to wake up from the wet dream he was having and then instantly his hands were tangled in your hair. He held your head as his hips had a mind of its own.
Bo Sinclair:
I imagine Bo to be a pretty heavy sleeper, like he wouldn't even wake up to you going down on him, he would wake up the next day with his pants completely stained. “The fuck is this?”
But, if Bo was to wake up during this, he would be a bit confused as he slowly gets out of the sleepy phase and then he would immediately let out a loud groan at the sight of you hunched over him. “Should wake me up like this more often.” You would deadpan, “I try.”
Although Bo would sleep through it, his body would still react. His hips would have a mind of its own as he rolls himself up into your mouth. He would let out little moans that he would 100% be ashamed of if he was awake.
You softly rubbed Bo’s cock, feeling in your hands as t slowly grew hard over the time. You had woken up feeling hot and bothered by the heat and seeing Bo lying beside you wearing next to nothing, you couldn’t help yourself. It started off with slow and teasing strokes, being careful not to wake him up and then slowly you got faster.
Next thing you knew, your head was all the way down so your nose was pressed against the untamed pubic hair. Your throat happily accepted the length of Bo’s cock before you came up for air. Bo was still yet to wake up, but that didn’t bother you as you continued on.
His moans were music to your ears as they came out higher and much more needier than his occasional grunts he would let out when he was awake.
You stayed still as you felt Bo’s hips roll against your face. Figuring that Bo was awake you decided to be less cautious. You moaned around Bo’s hardened cock when you felt the twitch of it on your against your tongue. It wouldn’t take much longer for semen to spill into your mouth as you came back up all you could see were Bo’s eyes still shut and you cursed at the man beneath you.
Thomas Hewitt:
Thomas wouldn't know how to react when he opens his eyes to see you hidden under the covers. All he would see is a bump underneath the blankets where is lower region would be, but he would feel the pleasure that you would be giving him.
Amongst the pleasure, Thomas would be paranoid that Hoyt or Luda was going to walk in so his eyes would move back and forth between you and the door - although most of the time his eyes were on you.
While he was asleep, Thomas would babble out little moans that weren’t loud enough for you to hear against the slurping sounds. His hands would cling onto the blankets or whatever he could get his hands on.
It was hot underneath the blankets, but that didn’t stop you from moving at the pace that you were. Your head bobbed up and down along Thomas as you raced for his release. You weren’t sure if he was awake, but that didn’t stop you.
The whole night you had been struggling to sleep as it seemed that you were more horny then ever before, your mind was lost in filthy scenarios of you and Thomas go at it. You couldn’t help yourself but to play with Thomas’ cock until it grew hard beneath your touch and that’s when you decided to take things further.
You breathed heavily from simply being out of breath but also the lack of oxygen you got underneath the blankets, but you weren’t desperate to leave the comfort of Thomas’ length resting on your tongue.
You could feel Thomas’ hands grabbing at the sheet and that made you wonder whether or not he was awake yet.
