#i'm sorry. leatherface is not a quick fuck in my eyes

[applesontheground]

sing the song or keep it inside 🐖

KINKTOBER 2024 | DAY THREE - SIXTY NINE

i love him. so much. that's why my ultimate fave of a classic slasher gets this one. <3

NSFW | Word Count: 818 | Bubba Sawyer x AFAB Reader (GN Pronouns) contains established relationship, size kink, oral (both receiving...ofc), hair pulling, primal 🎼: x

If you stood square outside the back stretch of the Sawyers’ land, you’d think the coyotes were out and coming much closer tonight. Infact, they were far off in the distance and wailing like the world was ending, a cacophony some who enjoyed the break in silence called a choir, joining in with the crickets. That would be an oddity for them to roam so close, considering that while carrion was common, livestock hadn’t grazed in the fields for decades.

Step closer to the barn, though, and you could realize it wasn’t just the coyotes that were howling.

Noises coming from the large doors, one of them left open with a hen's size space to squeeze through if needed, were far more guttural sounds. Something less like an animal in fleeting moments and more…refined.

It was difficult to catch a quiet, secluded time in the house itself, so the barn had to suffice for things a little more unprecedented than the usual flings you’d have at the end of the day with Bubba, ideas you couldn’t keep to yourself. It had started out on the porch, where you were sitting on the youngest Sawyer’s knee, talking in his ear about a pose that you had heard of in a racy magazine some anonymous member of the home had left around.

With lidded eyes, he was hanging onto your descriptions intently, and you even had to prop a knee up when one of his brothers walked by after accidentally exciting him a bit too much. The sun was sinking behind the flat horizon, turning everything to a warm shade of brown and orange, and that was when you placed a hand on the middle of his back, and asked if the barn would suffice for this new trick you wanted to show him.

He nearly threw you off his lap to stand, and even when you caught your balance, it was taken from you once more as his arms secured around your shoulders, drawing down to your waist as he kissed your cheek a few quick times, eliciting a giggle that got him going, too.

A hay bale was an awkward lay, but you could ignore the itch and pokes as you straddled him, upside down and careful not to settle your pelvis too close to his windpipe. After that, you two found a good fit, and an even better place to put your mouths with this new angle and this new access.

Like a game of tug of war, you two were almost in a subconscious competition on who could make the most obscene noises. Between his bellows and groans as you went all the way down with his size brushing the back of your throat; the wet sound your mouth made as you gagged, but kept licking and sucking on him. Their competition was the little whimpers and breathy pleads to whoever would listen as his tongue slid past your walls, lapping adoringly, gently at times and rough when you could get a wrangle of your sounds. He needed the affirmation through your own uncontrollable murmurs and cries, and finally you had given up when he pulled you by your hips closer to his mouth.

You pulled your mouth off of him in turn, panting against his thigh as you caught your breath, used it to let out another blissed noise. “That’s the spot, Bubba, that’s-“

You were cut short by a hard surface touching your entrance. Teeth were slipping by accident, but it wasn’t anything you’d give him a hard time for, especially since it was light grazes before he whined and got them out of the way again in favor of his tongue.

Noticing your head was up, a hand quickly settled over the back of your head, straightening your messy lengths before suddenly pulling them together – he had just been getting them into something more manageable rather than showing affection.

You wrenched back, hands sliding up his thighs and onto his stomach, not even needing to try and not apply any unbearable weight against his body. The strength he was using to curl your back up, hold your hair in a tight fist as he felt your climax approaching in the way your sounds went mute, but your legs shook against his ears, he knew it was good.

The sudden release, murmurs and praises mixed with obscenities – your mouth was a runaway train that had it all, hands trembling against his skin as you came down fast, the head of his dick bumping your nose as he let go. You glanced down, and heaved through a loss of breath, “Time to take care of you, huh?”

No response was needed, your mouth returning to work and humming in approval against his skin, something to reverberate when sound failed to reach his ears.

Lord knew he liked a good vibration to indicate something was working.