#i know his fabrics plain but i only used 2 different scraps from some pants

[wyrmofworms]

I never made any plushes before so of course I decided to hand sew a sturgeon.

bonus cat that wont stop bothering me

[rudemaidenswrite]

Silent Caress

Part 3                      By: @pusantheamazonian

Leatherface/Thomas Hewitt x Blind Reader

Part 1 Part 2

You’ve created a kissing monster. Sorry not sorry.

As soon as breakfast is done, Thomas is dragging you outside.

“How?”  He hastily writes.

“How what?”

“How did you know about the cannibalism?”

“Ah well at first I thought it was odd that Luda had to clarify that I was a guest in the house. Then Hoyt's payer at dinner was a red flag. Then your reluctance and hesitation to say that you're a butcher. And the blood, I couldn't place the smell but it was so familiar. Then obviously last night. When I thought about all the different reasons why. It just kept coming up cannibal.” You shrug it off.

“You are okay with this?”

“It is what it is. That reminds me, I should read you the Red Dragon.”

“Why?”

“It's about a doctor and he's a cannibal.”

“Really?” He pulls you into the shade.

“Yup!”

“I only want to devour you.” He turns, intertwining his hand with yours while the other pulls you close. Kissing his way down your neck.

“Well there's a never ending supply of that.” Giggling you grab his tie to hold him close. It tickles but it’s cute and you love this sweet side of him.

“If you two are going to be neckin’ you might want to do it out of sight.” Uncle Monty chuckles.

“Uncle Monty!” Flustered you can feel the blush spreading. Thomas is still holding onto you but you can tell he's glaring at Uncle Monty. A low growl warns him to leave.

“It's just a suggestion.” You can hear the new found pep in his step. Uncle Monty heads to the kitchen for a beer.

“What’s so funny?” Hoyt asks seeing Uncle Monty chuckling.

“Just caught Thomas and Y/N neckin’.” He nods outside.

“Really?”

“Out behind the barn near the trees.”

“I’ll be damned our boy’s becoming a man.” Hoyt gives a shit eating grin.

In the basement Thomas is sure that there will be no further interrupts for now. He has set you on the usual table. Standing in front of you, your knees pressed against his thighs.

“The bruise is going away.” He rubs the area gently.

“That’s good, I forgot all about it.”

“How?”

“It doesn't hurt so without being able to see it regularly. I forgot about it.”

Thomas frowns, why are you so pretty and cursed with your own troubles. If it was any other way he would have thought you were a model. Like the ones in his Mama's magazines. But you shy away from discussing how you look. When you had so desperately needed to know what he looked like. Praising his body before and after you had known his face. Maybe you just need to understand how he sees you.

“Soft Y/H/C hair, prettiest big Y/E/C eyes I've ever seen.” He holds your hand tightly.

“What are you talking about?”

“A smile brighter than the sun, and body with curves in all the right places. Like you were made for me.” With each word the more flustered you become, pulling at his grip.

“Where… where did that come from?”

“You said you didn't remember what you looked like. That's what I see.”

Burying your face in his chest, the tears start flowing. You can't believe he remembered that. Concerned he pushes on your shoulder.

“I'm fine… I just never expected someone to describe me like that.” Emotions boiling over you don't deserve him.

“It's true.”

“You shouldn't say things like that... when I've lied to you.” Thomas turns to stone, literally stops breathing. The fear takes him, wondering if you've been lying about loving him. “I'm alright now but… something happened when I was out with Uncle Monty.”

Thomas relaxes slightly to wrap his arms around you. The fear has turned into anger that someone hurt you.

“My cousins found out I was leaving, that's where the bruise came from not that escapie. Uncle Monty had to intervene.” A hand gently strokes your hair and you relax into his touch. “And those friends I told you that left me. They were actually my cousins, the same ones that tried to stop me.” His hold tightens. “I was scared that I would never see you again. I love you and I hate it when we don't talk.”

“You love me?”

Gasping, you didn't realize you said it. You had been thinking hard about the L word. Now you're embarrassed to say anything. Until he raises your head to figuratively look at him.

“You love me?” He cautiously write it out. Hoping he didn't hear you wrong.

“Yes.” Your face heats up and it's not because of the heat.

In a moment of pure joy Thomas kisses you. Ecstatic that you do love him. Fisting his shirt with both hands, the worn fabric threatens to tear as you lean into the kiss.

The creaking of the floorboards above pulls him away. He doesn't like having all these interruptions. Releasing his shirt you fidget with the hole forming on your pants leg. Both waiting for the all clear.

“You're staring.” Straightening up you poke his belly.

“How do you know?”

“It’s just a feeling, as if the air has changed and it’s only in your direction.”

“You have a problem with that?”

“No, I want to know why you’re staring.”

“You're beautiful. Why shouldn't I?”

“Such a complimenter but that doesn't explain why.”

“I… was thinking how lucky I am that you love me.”

A blush sets in. “That's a silly reason, everyone should be loved.” In the silence he caresses your cheek, running his hand through your hair.

“Well look at the love birds.” Hoyt jokes. Your face immediately becomes hot and you turn away. “I hate to break up this beautiful moment but Thomas has some work to do and Y/N you better be getting on upstairs.” The stairs creak as he goes back up. With a small groan Thomas lifts you off the table, setting you down at the stairs.

“I’ll see you later then. I’ll be my room if you want to come up when you’re done.” Biting your lip, you reveal in hesitancy he has to let you go. Delighting in the way he stalled when you mentioned coming to your room.

“I will.”

Upstairs you grab a book from your backpack. Which is still on the ground by the door where Thomas left it. Climbing onto the bed, you move the pillows so you're able to prop yourself up against the headboard. It's a long time before you hear anyone come upstairs.

The footsteps lead right to your door. There's a knock followed by a soft grunt as they move closer.

“Hi Thomas. Are you finished?” Another low grunt as he sits on the bed. “That sounds sooo exciting.” Teasing, you pretend that he told you all about it. But you already know that he's not going to tell you any details since he doesn't like it in the first place.

“What are you reading?”

“Don Quixote.”

“What?”

“Don Quixote it's a story about a middle-aged man from La Mancha, Spain. Obsessed with the chivalrous romantic ideals he has read about, he loses his sanity. Deciding to become a knight to defend the helpless and destroy the wicked while reviving chivalry.” The confused silence  from Thomas let's you know that you went way over his head in the literature department. “Basically this elderly guy decides to become a hero. He's old, forgetful and clumsy but does things to help people. And nothing goes as planned for him.”

“Uncle Monty when he's drunk.”

“Possibly.” You try hiding your laugh. It's a funny picture to imagine.

“Will you read it to me?”

“Sure, I'll start at the beginning.” Closing the book, you restart the story. Your fingers softly grazing the braille. “In a village of La Mancha, the name of which I have no desire to call to mind, there lived not long since one of those gentlemen that keep a lance in the lance-rack, an old buckler, a lean hack, and a greyhound for coursing. An olla of rather more beef than mutton, a salad on most nights, scraps on Saturdays, lentils on Fridays, and a pigeon or so extra on Sundays, made away with three-quarters of his income. The rest of it went in a doublet of fine cloth and velvet breeches and shoes to match for holidays, while on week-days he made a brave figure in his best homespun. He had in his house a housekeeper past forty, a niece under twenty, and a lad for the field and market-place, who used to saddle the hack as well as handle the bill-hook. The age of this gentleman of ours was bordering on fifty; he was of a hardy habit, spare, gaunt-featured, a very early riser and a great sportsman. They will have it his surname was Quixada or Quesada, although from reasonable conjectures it seems plain that he was called Quexana. This, however, is of but little importance to our tale; it will be enough not to stray a hair’s breadth from the truth in the telling of it.”

Pausing you put the book down, the snores coming from Thomas are soothing. With his head in your lap, he fell asleep almost instantly. Playing with his hair you wonder why anyone would be mean to him. He’s a big softie with super strength.

There’s another knock and your head snaps up.

“Oh how precious. Do you want me to wake him?” Luda whispers not really wanting to interrupt this picture perfect moment.

“No its fine. I’m still reading.”

“Well if you need anything let me know.”

“I will. ”

You feel a little uneasy about this. His family seems to pushing you two together but cautious while still teasing the two of you. It’s not like the two aren’t already attached at the hip. It’s probably just their way of protecting him, since they don’t want him to end up alone and hurt.

~

You wake up with Thomas’s arm around you. His breath tickling your hair while you feel the rise and fall of his chest with your hand. This moment feels perfect, sighing you snuggle closer. It maybe the hopeless romantic in you but you’ve fallen hard for him. You just hope he feels the same way you do. His arm tightens around you and buries his face in your hair.

“Hello.” Chuckling at his action. There's a low rumble from his chest. “What time is it?”

“Early.”

“Good. That means we can stay right here.” Pressing yourself closer. “I told you, you would be great at cuddling.” Smiling you breath in his scent slowly drifting back to sleep.

Thomas woke up before you this time. Softly trailing a finger down your face. He can't help but to wonder if you're really an angel. You may not be able to see but you know his true face and still called him handsome. Only his mama calls him that.

There's so many questions he has but there's not enough time for the answers. Why do you love him? Why do you trust him so much? Do you really promise to stay forever? He can't shake the feeling that you have bewitched him somehow, no one as perfect as you would willing be with him. But he knew he had to have you the moment you first smiled at him during dinner. The surprising amount of optimism you had to communicate with him is what did him in. That was the moment he knew he was in love.

Fidgeting you bury your face further into his chest. But the light touches on your face don’t stop. Mindlessly swatting at whatever it is you wearily open your eyes to feel Thomas staring. Just staring at you with no real purpose.

“How long have you been awake?”

“Awhile.”

“And you’ve just been waiting?”

“Yes.”

“Such a softie.”

“You should get ready before they wonder why you’re not up.”

“Why? I’m pretty sure they already know that there’s something going on between us.”

“All the more reason.”  He places a kiss on your forehead.

“Uh huh.” You reluctantly detach yourself and go to the dresser.  “Well then you can pick out what color dress I'm gonna wear today. Since you're still here.” You pull out a couple dresses and lay them on the bed.

The bed springs creak from movement and soon the floorboards do as he hands you one.

“Blue.”

“Thank you. Now shoo so I can get dressed.” Smiling you give him a quick peck on the lips and nod at the door.

“Why?”

“Thomas Hewitt you are ornery this morning. You will not see me naked unless there's a ring on my finger.” Surprised at his stubbornness and boldness you push him to the door. More like you lean against the unbudging wall of muscle. Thomas chuckles at your attempt to push him out.

“I'll see you later.”

“Ok-” He steals a kiss while you're mid sentence. The door closes and you can hear his footsteps go down the stairs. “That sneaky... he's sure become confident in stealing kisses.” Sighing you might have created a kissing monster. Putting up the other clothes up, you slip on the dress he picked. A blue short sleeved sundress with pockets. It's always a good idea to have pockets.

Finishing up your heart beats faster as you get excited. You started wondering if later the kissy monster will take off his mask so you can get some proper kissing going on. Walking down stairs you come up with some back up plans if he says no.

~

For the past couple nights Thomas has begun sneaking into your room at night to cuddle. Holding you tightly against him like you were going to disappear. It's nice waking up to someone else in the morning. It strangely makes you feel complete.

Coincidently Luda has started bringing you to the station with her. Saying you could do with some routines so you wouldn't have to be stuck at the house all the time. Thomas comes and fetches you after lunch time. He takes what he calls a shortcut back to the house. It's not much of a short cut since it goes through some woods and a pasture. Reaching the woods he picks you up and carries you the whole way, only setting you down when he's reached the edge of the yard. You tell him every time that he doesn't have to carry you, you're fine with walking the long way around. You don't want him to injure himself. But he won't listen to it, he just holds you tightly. Positioning you so you can sit upright and see him. In these moments you lean against his shoulder playing with his hair. Asking simple yes or no questions, or just talking about random things on your mind.

But today you had remembered a joke you wanted to tell him. With Luda back from her break you know he would be here any moment know. It may not seem like it but he likes to stick with routines. It makes him feel safe and calm when there's a routine.

The husky breathing and creaking floorboards coming from the back alert you to Thomas's presence. He prefers to enter from the back to avoid people. The slow sliding of fingers down your arm confirm it.

“Hi Thomas. Oh! I have a joke to tell you. I've been thinking of it all morning.” He squeezes your hand wanting you to continue. “What do you get when you cross a vampire with a snowman?” He draws a question mark. “Frost bite.” There's a long pause before he answers.

“What?”

“Frostbite. You know a vampire bites people and a snowman is frozen, made of snow. Frostbite is when your skin is exposed to freezing temperatures too long…. Any of this making sense?”

“You're not good at jokes.”

“Oh how rude. I should punish you by telling you all the corny jokes I know!” Poking him you act offended. You know they're corny that's the whole point.

The bell over the door rings and you ignore it. Luda's here so you don't have to worry about trying to help the person. But that changed when the confused voice of your cousin Derick pulls your full attention from Thomas to the front door.

“Y/N?”