#that doesnt creak and groan and squeal when i get off of it

[teethsmoothie]

failing somewhat on my mission to use tumblr mobile less. its so nice to have my friends in my pocket

[meat-husband]

something nsfw with thomas or bubba and a female so? doesnt matter what or where

Alright, this got a lot longer than I meant it to, and I didn’t edit the second half very much, so hopefully this is okay! I went with Tommy, cause I love my beefy boi.

Naughty stuff below the read more c:

When you slip behind the metal door the first thing you notice is the smell - damp, cold and rot float up the stairs and mingle with the heavy heat of the house above. You’re not sure how anyone could handle the stink, but you take a few cautious steps down anyways, hand over your mouth and nose. There is the sound of electric humming, the old freezers that hold the majority of the family’s meat, and dripping water clinking on wood and metal.

You know he’s here somewhere, but without the thudding of the cleaver you aren’t sure where. The basement is almost as big as the rest of the house and built like a maze, with piles of junk and old shelving littered around. You think of taking another few steps down, to better peek into the darkness, but a noise from below stops you.

He knows you’re in the basement. Your heart stops when you realize this, but you stay pressed against the wall of the stairwell. You hear his frustrated sigh and without warning he’s in front of you, pulling you from your hiding spot. A large hand twists into the hair at the nape of your neck, a sharp pull upwards bringing you to stand on the tips of your toes. He towers over you, even though you’re standing a few steps above him.

“Tommy,” you whine at the rough treatment, a petulant frown on your face. You’re close enough to feel his breath on you, and to see the angry glare on his face. You’re not supposed to be down here, it’s the one rule left over from the many you had adhered to when you first arrived.

“C’mon, lemme go,” you plead, “I wasn’t tryin’ to sneak around, but I’m bored!”

Thomas looks unconvinced and takes a few steps up towards the big metal door, shuffling you in front.

“No, wait!” You try again.

You might have been breaking the rules, but you weren’t lying. With Mama away at the station, you only had Hoyt and Monty for company upstairs. Sitting between the two drunk old men while they argued over what to watch on TV wasn’t your idea of fun, and even worse was the sweltering heat. The basement stank like death and rot, but it was dark and cool. Even standing at the top of the stairway behind the big door was a relief, cooling the sweat on your back.

Tommy wasn’t mean, but he wasn’t about to let you do something you weren’t supposed to - not without some convincing. You place both hands on his stomach when he hesitates before his next step forward and flash him a big smile.

“I just wanted to see you,” you say, and it’s not untrue. Getting away from the heat and relatives upstairs was your main motivation but you were a little frustrated at the amount of time he had been spending down here, where you couldn’t follow.

He huffs, not falling for your flattery and ready to haul you back upstairs, but you slide a hand down, quickly flicking his bloody apron aside and grab a handful of his cock through the rough fabric of his pants. You can feel his stomach suddenly tense under your other hand and your smile gets bigger.

He locks eyes with you, clearly surprised, and the grip on your hair tightens. You don’t speak, but the gentle rub of your palm against him is a clear enough signal. Thomas is usually the one coming to you, thick fingers tugging at the hem of your skirt, pulling you into the bedroom or, more likely, towards the nearest flat surface.

You can’t go to your knees on the staircase so you sit, Tommy leaning over you with his hand still curled into your hair, and his position on the step below puts you at the perfect height for what you want, but he’s too far away.

“C’mere,” You murmur, your free hand grabbing a handful of his apron and pulling. Hesitantly he obeys, putting one foot on the next step up and leaning towards you. With his leg on one side and the wall on the other, you’re boxed in, unable to stand now unless he lets you.

You push the apron aside, slinging it over your forearm so it can’t get in the way, fresh blood staining your skin. He groans when you pull at his zipper, exposing him to the cool air. You glance up, seeing him bent over at the waist and watching you, mouth open and lips wet. He spares a few distracted looks towards the door, perhaps fearing that his uncles might barge in or thinking of making you leave after all, but the kiss you press against the tip of his cock makes him jump, and his eyes are back on you.

You kiss him again, tongue slipping out to lick at him with long, warm strokes. You squirm in place a little, already anticipating your own turn, but you stop yourself and focus on the warm flesh in front of you. If you’re lucky, he’ll get riled up enough to forget about the old rules, and you can spend the rest of the afternoon downstairs, curled up against him in the blissfully cool air.

You lash your tongue over the slit of his cock roughly, and he leans his free arm on the wall, bracing himself against it and letting out a rumbling moan. You can’t stop a smile from forming, even as your tongue laps at his skin. You haven’t even gotten him into your mouth and he’s already a mess, panting under the thick skin of his mask, hair tousled and eyes wild.

Using the hand in your hair to hold you still he juts his hips forward, trying for your half open mouth and missing, soft, wet skin sliding over your cheek. You lean in before he can try again, burying your face against his hip and nuzzling into the crook where his thigh meets his stomach. He smells like death and old meat but you’re used to it, and this close you can almost taste the salt of his skin.

He doesn’t let you stay there for long, moving you back with a jerk of his hand, dragging your lips up the side of his cock until you reach the tip. When you lunge forward on your own, swallowing as much as you can in one go, he chokes and his nails dig into your scalp hard enough to make your eyes water.

You swirl your tongue, wrapping your free hand around what your mouth can’t reach. You take as much as you can, until your throat is bulging and it hurts to swallow, then ease up to allow yourself to breathe before going back down. His hand in your hair is too tight, but you let him pull it anyways, too busy with his cock to think of what his hands are doing.

Thomas whines and groans between gasping breaths, then hisses as you draw back up his length to plant a gentle kiss on the swollen head. He’s always loud and in the confined space of the staircase it echoes around you - you’re sure the other two can hear you and have figured out exactly where you snuck off too.

You move to take him in your mouth again, ready to get him as far down your throat as you can get, but he pulls you back by the hair when you try. You know you’re going to have a headache after all this hair pulling, but for now the sharp pain only makes you arch your back. You roll your hips back and forth desperately, wanting friction against your own ache but not wanting to let him go either.

His chest is heaving and you can feel hot, panting breaths from above your head. When you look up you can see flushed skin around his eyes and mouth, and even at his neck and collar where the mask doesn’t cover. You smile again, mouth slick and lips swollen.

“See Tommy, I wasn’t lyin’.” You’re panting yourself and you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your legs under you if you had to.

He nods in response, quickly, as if to eagerly dispel any doubts, and pulls on your hair again. He wants you up, you guess, ready to move on to the main event. You wanted to stay there, keep him in your mouth until you choked on his cum, but that wasn’t how things went. He only wanted to cum inside you now, and trying to get it any other way would only make him huff and puff until you let him.

“Let’s go downstairs,” you suggested, stroking your hand idly up and down. You knew he had a bed down there, he would sleep in the basement when there was too much fresh meat to fit in the freezer and it couldn’t wait for butchering.

He jerked his head to the side in a rough ‘no’. You had enough time to furrow your brow and open your mouth to protest before he grabbed you.

“Tommy!” You squealed, hoisted up and flipped around before you knew what was happening. Your legs wobbled for a moment under the sudden weight but they didn’t have to endure it for long - your knees hit the stairs hard. A big hand gripping the back of your neck bent you forward, pushing you down until you were splayed on the floor of the landing from the waist up, knees resting on the step below. The wooden step creaked loudly when he knelt behind you, his knees landing next to yours and squishing you between his legs. He moves the bulk of his apron to your side, hooked around your hip and keeping it out of the way, and you feel his wet cock against the curve of your ass, face flushing red.

“Thomas!” You snapped, angry at both the pain in your knees and the fact that, apparently, you weren’t going to make it down into the basement after all. You squirmed under his hand, feeling the other flipping up your skirt and starting to work your wet panties over the curve of your hip. He gives a distracted grunt in reply to your scolding and you huff. You want to be angry, at least a little, but you can’t help a grin when you feel Thomas behind you, trying stubbornly to stick himself between your closed legs. You wiggle a bit, trying to help, but with his own legs on either side of you, there just isn’t enough room.

You’re about to speak, to suggest going downstairs again, when he finds a solution - the hand on your neck leaves, dipping down between your bodies and a thick finger is suddenly inside you. With a surprised squeal you lurch forward, hips hitting the edge of the landing, but his hand follows. Curling the finger inside of you, he pulls your cunt open, just enough to allow the head of his cock inside, popping through the wet muscles.

Your eyes roll back at the suddenness and you open your mouth to moan, but it turns into a loud scream when a few short thrusts force the rest of his length inside. Your eyes bulge and your spine goes stiff, mouth hanging open while heat gathers in your stomach. You dig your fingers into the hardwood floor of the landing, trying to prepare yourself for the next one, but another harsh noise spills from your mouth just as easily as the first.

Pressed into you as far as he can go, Tommy leans over you, the curve of his stomach pressing into your back and holding you down, arms landing on either side of your head. Settled above you, he doesn’t start fucking you right away but grinds his hips against you, the pressure sending a small shock wave of discomfort through your lower belly. You let out a whine, not quite sure if it hurts too much or just enough, but your noises are drowned out by his own, loud groans that echo in the stairwell.

His first solid thrust is unexpected, and you let out another yelp that turns into a gasping moan. You try to arch into the next one, but his weight above you keeps your torso pressed firmly to the ground, so all you can do is squirm. He starts out fast, strokes uneven and patternless, hitting a different spot with each push forward. You twist your hips, trying to rock back onto him, to match his hurried pace, but an arm wrapping around your waist holds you still. He pulls you closer, yanking you down over his cock until your ass is pressed into his hips, and the sudden pressure back in your belly makes you gasp. When you try to rock your hips away from it, he only brings you back harder, the hand around your waist digging nails into your skin.

You moan and gasp, each sound drawn out of you only making him more frantic. You try to speak but your words come out as slurred whines. Already you can feel the warmth in your belly bursting, a thick, contented feeling that slides down your stomach to settle heavily between your legs. The pressure builds there until you’re nearly screaming but the sudden addition of a hand on your stomach, stroking down to cup your cunt, throws you over the edge. Your mouth is open but only weak little noises come out and you hardly notice when his pace hurries even more, hand digging into your hip and pulling you back down mercilessly. Your flesh is swollen and half numb, and you’re only still moving because of Tommy’s solid arm working your hips as he pleased.

Slowly, your weak, wet noises turn back into loud cries. You can feel your thighs trembling, muscles pulled tight and straining from the effort of clenching around him, and you’re very grateful for the scuffed floors holding up your upper half. Your whole body feels flushed and sweaty, and you can’t string a thought together except to focus on the new surge of cold heat in your belly.

“Hands,” you gasp, and Thomas quickly follows the request, hurrying to slide clumsy fingers against your clit. There is no skill to how he uses his fingers, but the rough touch is nearly overwhelming against your sensitive cunt. It’s more than enough to set you off again, that heavy weight pressing down between your legs and making you twitch around his cock.

With a deep, desperate noise Thomas leans over you, pinning you against the landing with his chest and arching against you to force his hips firmly against your ass. He slams into you a few more times, slowing with each push, before holding himself as close to you as he can. The pressure in your belly comes back, the head of his cock pressing almost too deep for comfort. You hear him whine, body tense as he tries to get closer still, and without the steps beneath you, you would be flat on your stomach under him.

You gasp and pant, trying to catch your breath while he cums, but when you feel a line of heat trailing down your thigh, you let out a halfhearted noise of complaint. You can still feel a throbbing heartbeat between your legs, swollen flesh and twitching muscles pulsing. After a few minutes of gulping down air and letting your heartbeat slow, you give a weak push against the arm around you, but he doesn’t move.

“C’mon,” you pant, patting his arm again. He grunts from above you, but makes no move to let you up. You’re too tired now to roll your eyes, but you do sigh, relaxing against the stairs in defeat. If he won’t let you up, then fine, you’ll pass out right here.

He’s content to let you do just that it seems, face nestled into the nape of your neck and one arm still tight around your waist. Normally you wouldn’t mind, but the hard line of the floor is pressed into your ribs and your knees ache against the rough steps.

“Tommy,” you whine, wiggling your hips under him. He jerks against the sensation, sending another wave of wetness sliding down your thighs. He finally sits up, cold air hitting your back, and puts both hands on your sides, slowly pulling you off his cock. You wince at the feeling of cum on your skin, knowing that’s going to be an awkward walk to the bathroom to clean up.

Before you can start to get up, Thomas digs his fingers into the meat of your thighs, pulling them apart and taking a moment to collect what he can on his fingers before rubbing them against your open cunt. You squeal a little, but keep your legs spread, waiting for him to finish. When he has, a big hand gently pulls your panties back up, palm sliding over the fabric to press them against your slick folds. Well, it’s better than having it run down your legs, you guess.

You wait for him to stand first, slowly getting your legs underneath you with a hand against the wall. He’s still panting, mask slightly crooked and hair in his eyes, helping to pull you up. Once up you work on getting his clothes back in order, buttoning up his pants and untangling the leather apron. With a tired smile you stand on tip toes, reaching up towards his shoulders, and he allows you to pull him down far enough to press a few pecks to his lips.

“I’m really tired now,” you start, knowing this is your last chance. “Let’s go lay down, honey, I need a nap.”

Thomas glances over his shoulder, maybe considering your suggestion, making a humming noise in his throat. You’re sure you’ve won this time, he’s a sweaty mess already, and surely the thought of relaxing in the cool air has swayed him.

When he scoops you up, half over his shoulder with an arm under your thighs, you can’t help the little grin of victory on your face.

When he steps up, though, hand reaching for the metal door, you groan. The hot air hits you once it’s thrown open, sweat forming already, followed quickly by a lot of noise. Hoyt and Monty are cheering and hollering from the sitting room, confirming your thought that they could definitely hear what was going on from upstairs.

Your face goes red and you hide against Tommy’s shoulder as you pass the doorway. Most of their praise is geared towards Thomas, but you hear a vulgar, “Good job, girlie!” called out by one of them.

“Oh, God, Thomas hurry up and get me upstairs!”