His first
Masterlist - Horror masterlist - Misc.
Kenneth "Leatherface" Slaughter x female reader
Part 1
Summary: You finally confessed and Kenny is torn between sweet memories and self-doubt.
Notes: *sigh* I still just want that old man to be happy...🥹 so here is some smut 😇
Warnings: smut (18+), alcohol
Reader: short female reader, female genitals but no other details mentioned
Part 2
Kenneth groaned, fighting off the harsh awakening by the jackhammer pounding within his skull. His hand darted around frantically until it eventually grasped the edge of the curtains, hastily pulling them shut. He blinked slowly, relieved that the bright morning sun had ceased its invasion of his room with its disgustingly bright rays. His entire body froze as he suddenly grew all too aware of the soft breaths coming from your naked body nestled against his. It almost felt as if...panic clawed violently at his chest, his trembling hand cautiously lifted the blanket, confirming his fears. Both of you were lying in his bed...naked...his lips parted as a silent scream passed them and his breath grew increasingly erratic. His mind was blank, a gaping void instead of whatever happened yesterday. Why couldn't he remember yesterday? Why was he trapped in this situation? Did he...? With you of all people? He gasped at the sudden bits and pieces of memories flooding back into his mind, his gaze falling upon the empty liquor bottle resting on the small table across the room.
He had just draped a blanket over Ma, who had dozed off on the sofa, when he noticed you making your way upstairs with a bottle in hand. The two of you settled on his bed while you talked about your past, how you'd ended up in Harlow and how much he meant to you. Your fingers nervously intertwined with his and he continued to take sips of the bottle, his mind trying to overthrow years of abuse and doubt in favour of the love you were willing to give him, right until he felt the room spinning around him. He got up, almost loosing his balance as he stumbled towards the table to place the bottle on it, unaware of the feeling that would hit him the moment he turned around to face you. The way you looked at him pierced right through his heart, those doe eyes brimming with all the affection and love for him. Fear, sadness and a strangely beautiful happiness waged war within him, a struggle of the heart alone since the alcohol had discarded his brain from the equation. As soon as he sank back onto the bed, you shifted, straddling him while you playfully nudged the tip of his nose with his, inching closer for another kiss. Freed from all his usual reservations, his hands instinctively moved to the small of your back, gently caressing downwards before digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your butt, grinding you against him. A sinful moan rumbled in his chest and his half-hard cock stirred beneath your movements. The twinkle in your eyes changed, replaced by a hint of worry and his stomach churned as fear resurfaced.
"Have you ever...", you shyly asked, pausing mid-sentence as you gestured towards your lips and then his.
He shook his head, pointing towards you before holding up one finger, nodding when you asked if it meant that you were his first.
"Oh", such a simple sound of surprise before you went silent, your gaze drifting over his figure while you hazily unbuttoned his shirt, "so you never had....sex either?"
He shook his head again, embarassed by the blush on his face and sighing slightly frustrated at the many memories of him falling in love, only for them to be running away, screaming in terror, back then at his old home. This town was dead, a forsaken place no woman ever found her way to, except for you. Before he could articulate anything, you pecked his lips and broke the silence.
"Do you...uhm...know how to...I mean....sex...would you know...?", you stuttered, unsure on how to voice this question without hurting him.
A boisterous laugh erupted from Kenneth, and the way your eyes sparkled indicated that it was the most delightful and endearing sound you had ever heard from him. He kicked a dirty and worn cardboard box from underneath the bed before handing it to you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he waited for you to open it. Eyes wide in disbelief, you pulled out one of the many vintage magazines and as you skimmed through the pages of naked women that weren't glued together, he could observe the slow change of expression upon realising that you currently held his collection of porn rags in your hands. He chuckled as you threw it back into the box and closed it before it disappeared beneath his bed again.
"Alright I get it, you were living in the middle of nowhere, not on the moon", you laughed nervously before kissing him again, teasingly running your tongue over his lower lip, showing him that you simply couldn't get enough of him.
Your body shifting slightly beside him drew his attention back to the present. A soft murmur escaped from your lips as your leg moved up, gradually inching closer to his groin. He shuddred, feeling the precum trickling on his belly at every twitch of his now fully hard cock. Faint whimpers spilled from his lips, one hand moving downwards, stroking himself, carefully slow to not disturb your slumber. Every fibre in his body craved your touch, your love, he wanted to bathe in all of it once more. The bittersweet memories lingered, tormenting him as a constant reminder that you'd surely leave the moment you wake up, naked and sober, next to the ugly old man tipsy you seemed so eager to please the previous night.
"Look at you", you cooed, slowly undoing the buttons and pulling down his pants, "you deserve to be worshipped."
Kenneth's head fell back, eyes shut tight and his mouth hanging open, whimpering at the feeling of your hands on his dick. It was so different, so much better than anything he had ever imagined during all those lonely nights in his room while touching himself. Slow, deliberate strokes, each one pushing him closer to the edge. Your touch brought a pleasure he struggled to contain. His eyes shot open the moment he felt those soft lips wrapped around his leaking tip, sucking it ever so slowly before sinking down. The deep moan coming him resembled more a strangled scream trapped in his throat while he helplessly watched his cock disappear in your mouth. Despite the alcohol coursing through his veins, everything felt so overly sensitive, the way your tongue licked over his length and your teeth gently grazed his tip each time your head moved down. Each moan of his was rewarded by a satisfied hum, its vibrations proving to be the last drop in his bucket full of pent-up tension. Loud groans, which almost sounded like your name, spilled from his lips like a prayer and his cock twitched in your mouth, his salty release running down your throat. His gaze was glued to you, observing how you licked away the last drops of his cum before snuggling up next to him, that loving smile never leaving you.
"I love every part of you, Kenny", you murmured, planting a trail of sweet kisses along his neck, "I hope you enjoyed your birthday."
He huffed, unable to hide his grin until the exhaustion and the liquour finally lulled him to sleep.
One last glance at your sleeping form, assuring himself that you wouldn't notice how he quickened his strokes, he closed his eyes to fully surrender to the pleasure. He was so occupied with chasing his orgasm that he failed to notice that you'd just woken up, licking your lips greedily at the sight of him pleasuring himself beside you. He wasn't sure how long you had been watching him, only becoming aware of what was happening the moment you pounced on him, pressing your dripping entrance against his cock, letting only the tip slide in. The initial shock of his denied orgasm quickly turned into something feral, a primal heat burning between his thighs, urging him to thrust his hips up and he almost bit off his tongue in the desperate attempt to not succumb.
"Kenny", you pleaded when his hands shot up to grasp your hips firmly to hold you in place, "I want you, I need you."
He shook his head frantically, too afraid to surrender to everything your were offering. He couldn't blame this neither on the alcohol nor on it being late after a long day and it terrified him beyond words. Why would a gracious angel such as yourself desire him? The monster, the cannibal, the son, hidden away to not scare anyone, only ever allowed to roam to either work or slaughter. As if you heard his thoughts, you leaned in, cupping his cheeks and placed a kiss on his forehead.
"You have been so kind to me from the very first day, you deserve all the goodness that comes your way", you brushed a few strands of hair from his face, "I might not hear your voice, but I do see and hear your heart. If you want it, I'll be yours for as long as I live. I love you, Kenny."
He growled, his last will to resist fading upon hearing those three little words he had yearned for his entire existence. Sitting up, his lips crashed on yours while his hands guided you down onto him. He bucked his hips up as he continued to push you down, trying to bury himself as deeply within you as possible. The symphony of sinful moans and the creaking of the old bed filled the small bedroom. He'd never forget the way your greedy tight cunt swallowed all of his cock, losing himself within your delicious wetness until he came undone, filling you up with his release. Kenneth continued to move your hips while thrusting up, helping you chase your own high. Right as you were giving in to your orgasm, as your walls clenched around still hard length, he mustered all his courage, longing to give you something precious back for all the kindness you had brought into his life.
"I-I...l-l-l-lov-ve you t-t-t-too", Kenneth stuttered.
He cringed at the sound of his own voice and the Southern drawl he couldn't hide. It had been nearly fifty years since he last spoke, but Ginny had understood his insecurities and had allowed him to communicate without words. He had found solace in silence, until you entered his life. You had become someone special to him, and he was willing to face his doubts head-on, fighting against the internal struggles that had plagued him for so long. He wanted to give you the gift of spoken words, to confess the emotions that had been burning inside him since the day you first stepped through the doors of the orphanage. You had become his whole world. As you nestled beside him, your fingers tracing gentle patterns across his hairy chest, he couldn't help but wonder if there was some truth to the old saying of "blow out the candles and make a wish." After all these years, it seemed that his wish had finally been granted.
