#texas chainsaw

[impeakcharacterdesign]

Just the Tip

— Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader —

MDNI!!!

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.

[rabbitblackx]

Bubs,Nubs,Chops and Brahms with a typically sweet and quiet s/o but is very protective and hot headed when it comes to them. Like if someone insults the slasher they literally have to hold their s/o back from attacking the person(or not and just let them go ham 🤷‍♀️) bonus points if the person insulting Brahms is Malcolm

Slashers when Sweet!Reader gets overprotective

Includes: Nubbins, Bubba, Chop-Top and Brahms

Nubbins Sawyer💖

You made Nubbins melt. He was in a fit of giggles as you littered his red face with little kisses. He often told you that he did good, and that you were a nice one. He was very proud to call you his own

Though you were a sweet little angel, sometimes your nice nature was challenged. Like when one of Nubbins victims tried to escape. She tore herself free from the dining chair and made a run for it. Just as your boyfriend grabbed ahold of her, she bit down hard on his hand

You launched yourself at the girl, throwing her roughly to the floor. You went to attack her some more, but Nubbins grabbed your wrist

“It’s okay! I’ll handle this.” He stuttered

Before you could rip into her more, you forced yourself to go into the living room to blow off some steam. It wasn’t long until Nubbins’ victim stopped screaming. He entered the room covered in her blood, a crooked smile on his face

“Are you okay, honey?” You asked sweetly

You walked over to Nubbins and gently looked over his bitten wrist. You then grabbed his face, placing soft kisses all over. You were the perfect balance for him. One moment your violent and possessive, the next showering him in affection

Nubbins wrapped his lanky arms around you, hearts in his eyes

Bubba Sawyer💖

You were the love of Bubba’s life. Every moment spent with you was a blessing. He wasn’t afraid to give back any affection you threw at him. You both gave each other many, many sweet kisses during the day

Bubba chased a trespasser through the house, readying his loud chainsaw in the air. You were hot on his trail as they ran into the dining room. The victim panicked, snatching a sledgehammer from the table. Just as Bubba charged him, he threw the hammer. It spun in the air before hitting your boyfriend dead in the forehead

“Honey! Are you okay?” You gasped

As you set your sights on the trespasser, all you saw was red. You ran around a dizzy Bubba to tackle the man to the floor. How dare he hurt your precious boyfriend? That wasn’t very nice!

After finishing off the trespasser, you stood from his bruised body and raced over to Bubba. You kneeled down where he sat against the wall. You lifted a bloody hand to carefully touch his sore forehead

“You poor baby. Does it hurt real bad?” You cooed

Bubba rambled some gibberish, shaking his head furiously. He was only concerned about you. He took your hands in his, blood getting on him but he didn’t care

Chop-Top Sawyer💖

Chop-Top was always trying to rile you up. You were so sweet and quiet, he just wanted to tear that from you. He got off on you going crazy. He loved your two sides. One minute you were cuddling into his side, making him giggle. The next, you were strangling some poor girl for hurting him

Chop-Top’s victim got loose within the abandoned amusement park y’all called home. It wasn’t long until he found her, running after her with his knife ready. You watched from across the way as she screamed and bashed her fists against him. She screamed profanities, digging her long nails into his wrists

You stormed over to the pair, snatching Chop-Top’s hammer from the table in the process. You shoved the girl off him, and threw the hammer down onto her head. Chop-Top laughed hysterically as you slammed it over and over into her mushed skull

“Whoa, baby! You got her good!” He exclaimed

You loomed over her corpse, your chest heaving as the bloody hammer hung limply from your fingers. You carelessly tossed it next to her, slowly turning to face Chop-Top

“How’s your wrists, dear? She didn’t hurt you too bad, did she?” You huffed

Chop-Top didn’t answer. He crept over to you with a big grin, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you close

You were so hot to him

Brahms Heelshire💖

Brahms was so soft for you. You never denied him any kisses. Which was honestly all he could ever ask for. Every little kiss you gave him made him melt. Your kind and gentle nature was so appealing to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you cradled his face. You offered the cutest smile, before planting a warm kiss to his mask

Brahms hid within the walls while Malcom delivered your groceries. It was obvious that he was trying to befriend you, but you were much too busy with Brahms. He was also still under the impression that he was just a doll, and not a six foot three guy in the wall

Malcom was trying to convince you to leave the manor for a bit, and get some fresh air. He offered to take you out into the village, but you politely declined. He asked you why you were so bent on caring for the doll, and even poked at his porcelain cheek

You had to bite back your anger as he made jokes about Brahms, calling him harmless names. But it still hurt you. Before you could snap at Malcom, you simply strolled over and scooped Brahms’ doll up from his seat

“Okay, that’s enough.” You said, feigning politeness

You felt a bit silly as you exited the kitchen, placing the doll onto the couch. Malcom didn’t even know that Brahms was still alive. It wasn’t like he was insulting him, but still. You were very protective of your boyfriend, and even his doll at times

You waved off Malcom dismissively, offering a rushed goodbye as you forced him out the door. You walked back into the living room with the doll, calling out for his human counterpart

“Brahms, honey?” You cooed

Brahms crept out of the walls, slowly lumbering over to you from behind. You whirled around, a hurt frown on your sweet face

“Oh, honey. I hope you didn’t take what he said to heart.” You lifted your hands up to cradle his mask. “I think you’re just lovely.” You smiled softly

Brahms didn’t care nearly as much as you did. He kind of liked that you got riled up over him like that though. He threw his arms around your waist and tugged you close. He hid his masked face in the crook of your neck, emitting a deep hum of affection

[ilovefool]

Little Nubbins ❤️‍🔥

[carriefisher]

personal favorite kills

A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET (1984) dir. Wes Craven FRIDAY THE 13TH PART 2 (1981) dir. Steve Miner HALLOWEEN 4: THE RETURN OF MICHAEL MYERS (1988) dir. Dwight H. Little TEXAS CHAINSAW (2013) dir. John Luessenhop

[fanofspooky]

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 1974 behind the scenes

[bloodybobbysawyer]

ꜰʟᴇꜱʜʟɪɢʜᴛ: ᴛʜᴏᴍᴀꜱ ʜᴇᴡɪᴛᴛ x ᴀꜰᴀʙ! ᴘᴏᴄ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ

This was a request from my Discord, shout out to ya! (You know who you are). Not proofread, by the way. And yes, I take free requests.

Breeding kink, DIY fleshlight, soloboy, size kink

It was a hot summer day in Texas, and the piercing stare of the sun coated Thomas’ already sweat ridden arms. The coarse hair dotting his arms became slick with the fluids of work. The air wasn’t any help either, it was stiff and stale. You could see dust particles mingling amongst each other before they fell onto the floorboards of the Hewitt house. The only interruption these bits of dust had was from the feverish slapping, and exhales of pure desire from behind the mask of the large man.

But none of this would have happened if he hadn’t met her.

The girl.

(Y/N) was her name. The girl who's been clouding the mind of Thomas Hewitt ever since she had knocked on the family’s door, to the point of which he could hardly get any work done. He thought that God proved himself to be a proper artist when he sculpted her from the pieces of caramel-colored holy flesh amongst his studio. (Y/N) was a beautiful girl, he’d always thought so. Truth be told, he had always been nervous around her. Which made his current actions all the more shameful to him.

He had a Polaroid picture of her, where her curls were being highlighted by the same sun that was practically encouraging his godless activities. Thomas was raised in a traditional household, therefore he could hardly bring himself to look into the brown eyes staring unknowingly into his own baby blues beyond his loose curls shading them. His large hands gripped tighter onto his work table, the burly knuckles of his turning almost white as he tried to push himself past the shame - and the fear of being caught in such an intimate moment.

Earlier that morning, the 6’5 man had taken his mothers discarded tea bags and hastily stuffed the two of them into their own respective hand towels. The hand towels that were currently being used to fulfill Thomas’ current intimate fantasies. Thomas shoved his plump cock in between the towels, making a sort of flesh light by tying a leather strap around them to ensure that they envelope his wide length.

His hairy arms bent as he leaned further over the metal table as he gazed hungrily at the photo of (Y/N). He needed her, like a predator to a piece of raw meat. Now, Thomas was aware that intercourse would result in childbirth (and the other crude things Sheriff Hoyt had mentioned in passing) but he would be lying if he said that it wasn’t the goal. If he had it his way, she would be in place of his makeshift pleasure device, being pounded relentlessly. It was all Thomas could think of, from entangling his filthy fingers into her curls as her tongue swirled around the mushroomed tip of his cock to the thought of her laying down as his heavy breeding balls slapped against her ass - the same way they were slapping against the edge of the table.

The grunts and groans erupting from his chest were almost animalistic as his pace quickened. This was his first time he had used his creative wit to pleasure himself, sure, but this was not the first time that Thomas had used this simple photograph of (Y/N) to bring him to release.

With each pulse of his cock bringing him closer to his finish, the shame Thomas had felt was beginning to wash away. A guttural moan left his chapped lips as he imagined the tan flesh of her ass gripped in his huge fingers, chasing after his own orgasm as he pounded into her. Thomas was raised to be a gentleman (that of which he was, for the most part) but her pleas for mercy had fallen on deaf ears as he humped deep against her cervix - (Y/N) was strapped down, all to be impregnated by him properly. Luda Mae always spoke about how she wanted grandchildren, of course.

But now wasn’t the time for family. His veiny, chubby cock pulsed causing his voice to ring out in delight. His tongue practically hung from his mouth as he gazed at the innocent photo of (Y/N), his slick sweat falling down his lowbrow and down his reddened face. Thomas frantically peeled his soaked button up off of his hairy chest, freeing himself of the restrictions the shirt was giving his breathing. He panted as his dick twitched at the next thrust he made, the table rocked as he continued to thrust forcefully into the thought of her pretty little wet cunt around him. His dark, sweaty curls bounced as he pounded mercilessly, fucking desperately to release. .

It didn’t take long before his seed was spewing out of him, glazing the Polaroid of his potential sweetheart. The thick globs of salty goo slowly dripped down her face, her sweet smile barely visible under his semen. His size-able girth twitched wildly at the sight in front of him. Thomas grunted through the brown mask, his slick, hairy chest rising and falling as he brushed his hair back with his hand. He picked up his fleshlight and placed it into one of the cluttered drawers. His mask not once moved from his face. Thomas hurried hastily upstairs, and once he reached the laundry room, he looked through the closest hamper for a new shirt, deciding to pay his new sweetheart a visit.

[mozo-bozo]

Thinkers

Also in color

[whiskingskin]

[lawr3nce228]

bubs

[horrorvillaintourney]

HORROR'S NEXT TOP GENDER, ROUND FOUR MATCH EIGHT: Will Graham (Hannibal) vs. Leatherface (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

PROPAGANDA FOR WILL:

"he gives me gender envy and is just like me fr fr"

PROPAGANDA FOR LEATHERFACE:

"To me bubba is gender fluid, and autistic. The masks she wears represent her current state of being, and are literally a way of masking. She enacts gender performatively for different events"

"Gender Fluid Royalty. Rustic butch who works with their hands. King of meat, queen of the saw. Rocks the apron and the suit. What gender are they on any given kill? Who's to slay!"

"Leatherface is gender in that real fucked up way only trauma genders can exist. He's put into the position of housewife by his family until the end of the movie when he's in a suit and tie. All the while wearing his characteristic mask."

"Genderfluid icon, switches gender by switching his masks depending on his mood, becomes a beautiful drag queen by the end of the movie (such a shame they didn't keep the scene of him showing off his makeup skills), likes to dress very fancy, enjoys jewelry.... etc etc.[...] He wears the face of different people, thus enbodying their identity. Each mask serves to express a part of himself, no matter the gender, age or appearance. Leatherface prefers to present and express himself through different genders. [...] All in all, Leatherface's gender is very ambiguous and fluid in the og movie, which gives me gender envy as a nonbinary person tbh."

[madame-mortician]

Chop Top Leaks - TCM

I’m also 99% sure that Bill Moseley is returning to play him, since he recently visited Gun Interactive, so yippee!! This also means we’ll likely get TCM 2 skins for Cook and Leatherface.

*I’m not 100% if those last few Sissy voice lines are towards Chop Top, but they’re not voice lines for her seeing Hands so by process of elimination, they’re probably for Chop Top.

[clandestinewhore]

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚊𝚠𝚢𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢

𝙽𝚎𝚠𝚝, 𝚃𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚜 𝟷𝟿𝟽𝟹

[rabbitblackx]

chop-top,brahms,Jason and Bubba with a s/o who gets sick at the sight of gore,but has terrible separation anxiety so they’ll just stand there like “🧍‍♀️🤢” when their slasher is 🏃‍♀️🗡️ someone 😭,I know this is specific so feel free to ignore

Slashers with a Squeamish!Reader

Includes: Bubba, Chop-Top, Jason and Brahms

Bubba Sawyer💖

Bubba tried to hide as much gore from you as possible. He never killed in front of you unless absolutely necessary. He also encouraged his brothers to do the same. They never listened though, as they wreaked havoc around you every day. Bubba was sure to cover your eyes with his hands, or carry you out of the room when this happened

You followed Bubba around like a lost puppy, which meant you saw a lot of shit. He’d be brutally sawing a woman in half while you stood in the background, face green and head spinning

When Leatherface was done with the violence, you recoiled in disgust when he went to hug you. He was drenched in blood. While trying not to faint, you shakily asked him to go dry off

Bubba came back to you later after changing into a fresh pair of clothes. You threw your arms around him in a sweet embrace, making up for earlier

Chop-Top Sawyer💖

Chop-Top loved to tease you. He purposely waved gore or bodies in your face, while also flicking blood at you. It was all fun and games until you threw up all over your shoes. He was very sorry after that. He also went into full panic mode when you wouldn’t forgive him at first. How was he gonna get laid now??

“Baby! C’mon, I said I was sorry!”

You eventually forgave Chop-Top, causing him attack your face in kisses. He grew more and more fond of you after that. You were his fave. This meant he was less hostile around you. He rarely lashed out at victims when you were near

If Chop-Top had to kill in front of you, he made you spin around and face the wall first. It wasn’t as fun killing them clean, but whatever made you happiest

When Chop-Top was done with his killing, he ran over to you and hugged you from behind. He grinned into the crook of your neck, giggling like a madman

Jason Voorhees💖

Jason did not care that you were squeamish. He was going to kill as much as he wanted. If he heard a single peep outta you because of this, he swore to god—

You felt pretty unsafe in the woods without Jason, so you were always close by. This meant the both of you had to see things you preferred not to. You had to watch him brutally murder people on a regular basis, while he had to watch you throw up everywhere because of it

Jason started gifting you with old things from his childhood. He brought you some of his toys, like his teddy bear or maybe even a picture book. Just anything to distract you from his violence, and it actually worked!

You were so touched by Jason’s gentle gesture, all you could do was tearfully gawk at his old toys while he murdered campers in the background. It just sucked though because once he was done, you wanted to hug him. But he was drenched in hot blood and gore, making it hard. You knew damn well he wasn’t gonna wash it off for you either :’)

Brahms Heelshire💖

Your squeamishness was never really an issue, as Brahms rarely killed. If he did, it was because somebody was breaking in, or trying to hurt your pretty self. It was very bad if this was the case. Because if a another man laid just a finger on you, he wasn’t going to back down

Brahms would apologise for the gore later. As of right now, he was tackling the intruder that hurt you to the floor. He fumbled for a shard of glass from the window he broke into, gripping it hard. All you could do was gape as Brahms drove it deep into the man’s neck, twisting it around and making a red mess

You had to sit down, holding your dizzy head in your hands. Brahms kept stabbing at the dead man, causing more and more blood to spill. The sight alone was enough to make you faint

Brahms eventually got off the man and stumbled over to where you sat. The blood on his hands made you screw your eyes shut, but he didn’t care. He loomed over you in the dark, gently taking your hand in his

[ilovefool]

It's been a while since

I drew twin brothers 😢❤️

[whatitshouldvebeen]

Johnny Slaughter x Reader housewife request

Cut this down to just the smut, you heathens

Contains: blood, knifeplay, cutting, marking, and smut

You were in the middle of stirring scrambled eggs when you felt a hand slip down the waistband of your shorts, sending a shock shooting down your spine.

"Johnny, I don't get how you're always so quiet," you said, giggling as you felt him press his toned body against yours from behind, his fingers toying with the lace of your black panties.

"Huntin' works better when your prey don't know you're comin'," he whispered against your ear before nipping your earlobe.

"You don't have to hunt me, baby. I'd be as easy to hunt as roadkill," you joked. Johnny smirked against your ear, your statement all too true.

"You're too pretty to be roadkill, babydoll," he rumbled. "I'd make you into a trophy. Hang you in my bedroom so I could look at your beautiful face every night 'fore I fell asleep."

It took some time before you'd gotten used to his fascination with keeping trophies, but the numerous animal heads hanging on your walls showed he wasn't slowing down any time soon. You leaned your weight back against him, enjoying the feel of his bare torso, and smiled as his lips trailed down your neck.

Still, the hardness you felt pressing against your backside proved that the outfit you'd worn to entice him had worked, and your mind was already becoming hazy with lust.

"I been thinkin'," Johnny said, kissing the nape of your neck, "you'd make the most fuckable little housewife."

Your pulse fluttered against his lips. You'd never pushed him for anything; you'd been happy just being his girl. But the word "housewife" made your heart race. He hooked a thumb in your waistband and pulled your shorts and panties down, and his fingers quickly found your already soaked slit.

"Oh yeah?" You gasped as he dipped his fingers inside you. "You think so?"

He murmured an affirmative against your skin while he rocked his hips against your butt. "I know it. What do you think, babydoll? You wanna get married?"

Your lips curled, one of your hands flipping the burners off on the stove before you turned around to face him. His head was cocked to the side, a handsome smile on his face. Your eyes trailed down his bare chest, pausing at each scar, each one telling a different story before looking up into his deep brown eyes. "It's a tempting proposal, but I could use some convincing. Why don't you make me?"

He smiled, but it wasn't friendly. No, it was more like a predator, the type to make your blood run cold.

"Alright, I'll make you, darlin'. If you really want me to, I will."

You felt like a rabbit in a snare, squeezed between his muscular body and the stove, completely at his mercy.

"What'll it be, sugar?" He asked, his hands on your hips, and his eyes trailing down to your cleavage before snapping back up to meet your gaze.

You leaned forward and cupped the bulge in his jeans with one hand.

"Make me."

That was all it took. Johnny's fingers sank into your hips almost painfully as he yanked you against him. "You'll eat those words, darlin'," he growled.

Then he dropped to his knees and pulled your hips against his lips like a man starved. You gripped his wrists while his broad hands cupped your ass, forcing your hips toward him as he burrowed into you.

He always loved eating you out, but this time there was a primal aspect to the way he licked and nipped at your folds. Your fingers entwined in his dark locks as you moaned his name while he traced your entrance, gathering every last drop of your sticky wetness.

Johnny twirled his tongue around your clit and dove in so hard you could feel his teeth against your lips, his tongue curling upward, lifting your hips into his hungry mouth.

Desire dripped down your thighs, mingling with his saliva, while your muscles clenched and shivered. They remained taut, each nerve pulsating with sensation. It felt like an exhilarating marathon, beautiful agony traveling from your thighs to your hips. Moans spilled from your lips, and you tried to draw him closer, but he withdrew.

"This pretty little pussy is mine," he said, his voice low and possessive, before thrusting two fingers into you, making you whimper and tug at his hair. His lips descended upon your clit, nibbling it, sending sparks of both torment and ecstasy throughout your body.

"You're such a slut for me, baby girl." His fingers moved to tease your sweet spot, making your toes curl. "So fucking wet."

He stood, and you whined at the loss of his tormenting touch. His eyes were hungry and dangerous. "You're going to be my pretty little housewife, aren't you, baby?"

You gasped as he pressed against you, his hands on either side of the stove, trapping you.

"I could be," you purred, "but… I'm not entirely convinced."

His gaze darkened. "You're mine," he hissed, a predatory snarl forming at the corner of his lips.

"Prove it," you whispered breathlessly. His pupils dilated, and suddenly, you felt the tip of a blade pressing against the soft skin of your stomach.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you looked up at him. Fear mingled with a strange sense of excitement, sending tingles shooting through you.

"Johnny?" You whispered as your mouth ran dry.

"You ever watch someone die?" He said, more to himself than to you.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. Johnny had always had a fascination with his Bowie knife, and sometimes you'd glimpse it stained with fresh blood, but he had never wielded it against you—until now.

"You ain't never quite the same after that, lemme tell ya."

Both of your eyes fixed on the blade as he subtly twisted it, drawing a single droplet of blood from your delicate skin. You winced, but you didn't concentrate on the pain as you were enraptured by the intense look on Johnny's face.

With the pad of his thumb, he traced the droplet and brought it to his lips. You were immobilized, watching as his eyes fluttered closed, savoring your essence. A low growl rumbled in his throat, as if your blood were an exquisite ambrosia.

Johnny had given you love bites, sure, but this was the first time he'd purposefully tasted your blood. You could tell he reveled in it, and part of you wondered why he never asked to try it before.

You would have let him, after all. He could've had any and all of you that he desired.

As the unfamiliar tingle of blood leaving your body coursed through you, he picked you up roughly, and your legs wrapped around his hips reflexively. Your blood smeared against his abs, but he didn't seem to mind; in fact, it seemed to arouse him even more as he carried you to your shared bedroom and laid you down like an offering.

Your eyes remained wide, adrenaline surging through you as he unzipped his pants and revealed his gorgeous erection, stroking it hungrily while his eyes devoured your body. He looked at you like a man might admire an ice sculpture, as if he expected that he wouldn't get to admire your beauty much longer.

"Baby?" You asked hesitantly as you tried to sit up in bed.

Something sinister sparked behind his eyes, and he left the room briefly, returning with a handful of rope. "Oh, you ain't getting away. I'm keeping you," he snarled, then knelt on the bed beside you, tying your wrists together and then to the bedpost with ease.

A rush surged behind your ears as he immobilized you, leaving only your legs free, trembling with both arousal and fear.

How did he know how to handle the rope like that? He'd never tied you up before, but the way he did it so effortlessly spoke of practiced experience. You'd always felt that Johnny was hiding something from you, and you had a suspicion it was directly related to his ability to make you feel absolutely helpless.

But what Johnny didn't know was, some part of you had been waiting for this. You were more soaked than you could ever remember being before, and the unadulterated bloodlust he exuded was intensely alluring.

"You ain't going anywhere," he growled, his eyes ablaze with an intensity you had never witnessed before. Your blood gleamed on his torso, and every sinew of his body appeared tightly wound, poised for imminent action. "Ready to meet the Bad Man?"

"The Bad Man from your dreams?" You let out a trembling whimper. Now, this was the figure you'd only encountered in Johnny's waking nightmares. Those harrowing nights when he'd awaken in terror, locked in a life-and-death struggle with an invisible foe. Those nights when he shielded you with his body even in slumber, and upon waking, he remained unconvinced of your safety for days upon days.

"Darlin', he's all too real," he murmured, his words dripping with a chilling anticipation. With deliberate slowness, he drew nearer, his eyes locked onto yours. When his face finally met yours, he seized your head and tilted it to the side, trailing his tongue from your collarbone to your ear, where he clamped down with savage intensity. A sharp cry escaped your lips as he pressed his body flush against yours, the taste of fresh blood flooding his ravenous mouth.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned as he ground his hips against your stomach, his length squeezed between you both. Tears welled in your eyes, but you felt more alive than you'd ever felt before.

"Johnny," you whimpered as he continued to suck your earlobe.

"You wanted this, darlin'," he said with a chilling laugh.

You bit your lip. "I-I'm not asking you to stop."

And, for some reason, that gave him pause.

"Really?" He asked, pulling back. His lips were bloodstained, but that wildfire that had consumed him was simmering behind his gaze as he regarded you with equal parts possession and hunger.

You nodded. "Yes, really. I always knew there was something you were hiding. I want you to know I love you. All of you, Johnny," you said, even as your body shook. "And," you let your wrists go slack, "I like being claimed by you like this."

Something in Johnny shifted then. It was almost too much, the flood of emotions that swept over him, and he didn't realize it, but you felt his tears splatter against your skin.

"I love you more," he said, his voice barely a whisper. You'd heard him say it before, especially during sex, but this was different. It sent chills rippling through you. And when his aching cock slid into your wetness, you both gasped in pure ecstasy.

He gripped your thighs, pulling you against him, and groaned deeply. You felt so good that he couldn't help but pick up the pace, driving into you with a fervor. All your nerve endings coiled and tensed, already hypersensitive, and you wrapped your legs around his powerful hips in euphoria.

"I'm gonna make sure you ain't never forget who owns you," he said, and you mewled in response as he withdrew from you and reached to the bedside table, taking his knife in hand. You caught your reflection in the silver blade, your skin flushed, your lips parted and panting. You couldn't wait to see what he'd do.

Johnny used two fingers to gently circle your clit, keeping you on edge as he traced the tip of the knife between your breasts, down your belly, and to your hip where he'd marked you earlier. His motions slowed to allow him better control, and he pressed the tip of the blade into your skin again, a little deeper than before.

You winced but didn't move as he etched into your skin. Your body was screaming to have him back inside you, and his slow circles on your clit were driving you mad with desire. Pain was indistinguishable from pleasure as he carved your skin like an artist working on a masterpiece. When he finished, he dipped his head and ran his tongue along the marks he'd made. When he withdrew his tongue, you caught the small JS he'd carved just above your hip before blood obscured it.

"Mine," he said once more, and this time, you didn't argue. After all, no one else had their initials etched into your flesh.

Johnny continued to play with your clit as he positioned himself at your entrance before pushing into you again. You'd submitted to him before, but this time was different. This time, you felt nothing but pure bliss. You were his, it could no longer be denied, nor would you ever want to deny it.

The resounding slap of his balls colliding with your sopping wetness was lewd enough to make your mind spin, or perhaps it was the blood loss, but either way, you felt light-headed and airy under his command. One hand moved to cup your breast while the other continued to assist his cock in driving you to the brink.

"Are you going to be my perfect little housewife?" He asked, pressing his forehead against yours as he thrust deeply into you. You could see two sides to him, the vicious and the docile, in harmony in his rapturous gaze.

"I will," you conceded, your breaths coming in sharp pants while he pistoned into your exquisitely viscous core.

"Cum for me, babydoll," he commanded. The tension that had been building since the moment he approached you sprung loose, and you climaxed hard around his throbbing length. With a guttural groan and a final, deep thrust, you felt his climax paint your inner walls before he collapsed on top of you, completely spent.

You wanted to wrap your arms around him, but they were still tied to the bedposts, so instead, you kept your legs locked around his hips and nuzzled your cheek against the top of his head. He looked up at you with the same smile that had melted your heart the first day you met him.

"Thank you, babydoll. Thank you."