#thomas hewitt image

[milkteahood]

texas heat

Thomas Hewitt x fem!reader

Warning: smut! minors dni!!!

Summary: basically a smut with a plot

Sweat broke on your forehead as you wiped it still half asleep. It was terribly hot to even rest. As your eyes opened and started to adjust to the darkness around you, thoughts about the whole situation were still fresh in your mind. How long has it been? You thought to yourself. A few months maybe? 4? 5?

You stopped counting the days after the first few weeks. What for anyway? It wasn’t like you were ever leaving.

***

“Come on boys! We are completely lost!” your friend spoke, gesturing with her hands.

“It’s fine! It’s all good. A little detour” the driver laughed without a care in the world.

“That’s right Sam! Stop being so difficult. Look, Y/N isn’t saying anything” the other guy talked from the passenger’s seat.

At the mention of your name, you looked up from your book, and then quickly got back to it. You weren’t actually reading, but they weren’t paying attention to that. If they did, they would’ve seen you didn’t turn any page in the last 5 minutes. Pretending was just a good excuse to be out of this circus of conversation.

You didn’t consider any of them your friends. And you were sure they didn’t think of you as that either. They were Sam’s friends. And Sam was your friend out of convenience, just as you were to her. You wanted to travel, and she didn’t want to be the only girl on the trip.

“Come on Y/N!” Sam started “whose side are you on?”

“Maybe we should stop and ask for directions” you finally raised a point.

“Yeah? And where the fuck would we stop for that?” the driver asked “there is nothing around here!”

A sigh escaped your lips and you finally put the book down, looking out the window. Then, suddenly, you pressed your finger on the window, gesturing in the distance “there, it looks like a house”.

Little did any of you know this was the beginning of a whole new chapter in your life.

***

Rubbing your eyes, you looked at the little clock on your nightstand. 11:30 pm it said. It wasn’t that late, yet you couldn’t remember when you fell asleep. Realistically, the only one still awake was Thomas. The thought of that made you freeze in place. Oh yes, you thought to yourself again the summer isn’t the only reason I can’t sleep.

Another sigh left your lips. You didn’t think you would end up in this situation. Spared by a bunch of cannibals for the sole reason you smacked the driver when he started insulting Thomas.

***

“Hello?” the driver’s friend… Jason? Jack? Jeremy? J something. You couldn’t remember. Your name memory was never your strongest suit.

“Hello?” J began knocking again. And a second time. Just before knocking for a 3rd time, a woman opened the door.

“Yes? Who are you?” she spoke.

“Oh hello ma’am!” Sam approached “we are completely lost. We were wondering if you could give us any directions”

Luda Mae looked all of you up and down before speaking “come inside. You will die of the heat before you get any directions”

The boys looked at each other and you looked at Sam. But ultimately decided to follow the lady inside.

***

The memories were still fresh and you were sure they would be for the rest of your life. As you lay on your back, looking around the room, you felt your heart skip a beat as another thought made itself apparent. Thomas. Or better said. Your crush on Thomas. In the past month or so, you tried your best to get close to him. You offered to help with everything and anything he needed. Yet, he did his best to avoid you. You weren’t dumb, you knew exactly why. He was absolutely terrified at the idea you’re just fucking around. Lying. Being nice to him so he wouldn’t kill you.

“For fucks sake Thomas. I was nice to you even before I knew you butchered people for a living” you whispered yelled alone, in your room.

***

“So kids, how did you end up here?” Luda Mae asked, trying to see if you would make a good addition to the Hewitt meat supply. Were you going somewhere? Was someone important waiting for you? What was the chance of people coming to look for you? Those were important questions that needed answers. They couldn’t risk killing someone that could potentially lead the police to them.

As the conversation was unfolding, the driver and J became more and more impatient to leave, and your head cocked when hearing some footsteps. Before you realized it, this massive man was sitting in the doorway, breathing heavily, not saying a word.

“Oh Tommy! Look! We have guests” Luda Mae said, looking at her son. Thomas was tall, a huge man, his apron covered in blood.

“Oh fuck! What the fuck is that? He looks like—” the driver said but didn’t get to finish whatever insults he was going to spew because you smacked him.

“Just shut up. For once. Not everything revolves around you and your daddy’s money. You can’t just speak this way to people” you said, while he looked you completely shocked. No one has ever dared speak to him that way. Let alone slap him.

And that was the moment Luda Mae decided you would be the only one left alive.

***

The floor was cooler than the bed. You stood up and looked at yourself in the mirror. It was so dark you could barely see, only managing to make out your silhouette. You stood there for a while, thinking of what you should do.

You liked Thomas from the moment you saw him. You tried to befriend him but all he did was ignore you. On the occasions he actually had to interact with you, he looked so tense, like he was on the verge of exploding. You tried to give him space, but it wasn’t really helping. And now you were pacing around your room, unable to sleep because all you wanted was Thomas. The man who killed your “friends”.

What the fuck is wrong with me… he’s a murderer, his whole family is crazy.

Yes and so are you. I mean, you’re not running. You think he’s hot. This man could dismember you in a heartbeat and you think he is attractive. Talk about fucked up.

You frowned at your own thoughts. Thomas wasn’t a monster. He did what he had to. Yet what was your excuse? Falling for him?

Your heart started racing. Yes, you were falling for him.

After what seemed like an eternity, you went out of your room, down the stairs and into the living room. You stopped in front of the basement stairs and listened. Thomas was definitely still down there and it was now or never.

In the basement Thomas was still butchering some meat, not hearing you walk in over the sound of his cleaver. He didn’t like you coming there, he always thought you would judge him, mock him even.

“Thomas” you spoke, your voice making him stop with the cleaver still in the air. He lowered it and turned to you, not saying anything.

“It’s late Thomas. Maybe you should call it a day” you spoke softly, almost afraid to startle him.

You didn’t get a response. Then, he just turned around and continued what he was doing.

This made you frown and it hurt a little. Maybe he was not liking you as much as you liked him. Maybe he didn’t like you at all. However this couldn’t be further from the truth. He did like you. A lot. Which is why he was so scared to be around you.

You bit your lip, a little too hard, and decided to approach him. The second your hand touched his arm, Thomas completely froze. His body was incredibly tense and all he managed to do was look at you.

“Did I do something to upset you?” you tilted your head “you always seem to ignore me. I’m sorry if I upset you at all”.

Thomas’s wide widened. You were apologizing to him? What for? You thought he was mad at you? But how could he? He grunted back at you. In the beginning it was very difficult to understand him, but now you could make up the words he was saying. He said no.

“Well then what is it?” you pressed him, gently rubbing his arm. His eyes looked like they could come out of his head, immediately shifting his gaze away from you, almost shaking.

“Thomas, Tommy, oh no” you reached for his other hand which was still tight around the cleaver. Gesturing for him to let it go, you managed to turn him so he’d face you. “You’re ok. Everything is ok” you said, looking at him. “I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward. I’m sorry. I will go upstairs” you gave him a bit of a sad smile and turned to walk away. Yet, you didn’t get to take two steps before he stopped you. As you turned to him, he gave you another grunt. Stay. This one meant stay.

Both of you were blushing. Your brave girl facade paled the moment you felt his hand around your arm. Compared to him, you were incredibly tiny and for that, he treated you as if you were made of glass. Because to him, you were.

You stepped in front of him, both of you looking at each other. You learned to be gentle with him, maybe even more gentle than he was with you. Because unlike you, he never had people not be terrified of him.

Smiling, you cupped his face in your hands, which caught him off guard, but he didn’t stop you. For whatever reason, you were here, you didn’t try to run away, and you were kind to him. Before he knew it, he was leaning into your touch.

“Tommy?”

He opened his eyes, waiting for you to continue.

“I really like you, Thomas”

His now open eyes were widened, staring at you, almost looking through you, waiting to see any shred of dishonesty. But there was none. You were genuine. He then couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with you. How could you like him? No. He didn’t care. You liked him. And he was going to take it.

He didn’t realize some time passed without giving you an answer, which caused you to mumble another apology. He, however, didn’t let you finish. You soon found yourself in a hug. A very tight hug. Which you happily reciprocated.

After pulling away, you both looked at each other and without much of a second thought, you pulled the other into a kiss. It was reckless and full of built up frustrations on both parts. You were the first to pull away.

“Thomas.. it’s difficult to kiss you with that mask on”

He didn’t say anything and looked away. He didn’t want to show you. There was finally something he had and showing you his face might ruin it. He grunted a no.

“Please..” you pleaded while cupping his face again.

He damned himself for being so weak around you. You looked sad and a little disappointed. He let out a huge sigh and slowly took off his mask, letting it fall on the floor and completely avoiding your gaze. Whatever disgusted face you made, he didn’t want to see. Only if he looked to see it was not disgust but love.

“Fuck me you’re handsome” was all you said before pulling him in and kissing him again. He looked like a deer in headlights, but quickly melted into your kiss, picking you up and placing you on his workbench.

Your legs were wrapped around him, your hands pulling at his hair while he was tightly holding you by your waist. You felt his erection press against you, so you pushed yourself closer to him, which caused Thomas to grunt and moan into the kiss.

Thomas was the one to pull away this time, spending some time admiring you. Slowly, you started to unbutton his shirt “you can help me with mine if you want” you said a little flustered.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Once you felt his excitement, you knew Thomas was coming out of his shell. Soon enough yours and his shirts were thrown on the floor, and you were making out on the cold and hard workbench. You didn’t care, you also didn’t care that his grips wound leave bruises. You just wanted him. He cupped your breast, gently squeezing, earning himself a moan from you and the confirmation that he is doing it right.

“Please Tommy” you whined between kisses, tugging at his belt.

He wanted to so bad. But what if he hurt you? He had no what what he was doing. But how could he resist you? His whole body was shaking, you were begging him to have sex with you. Him. He pulled away from the kiss and quickly undid his belt and pants, making himself moan as he pulled his cock out. Your heart skipped a beat seeing Thomas naked in front of you. You look off your underwear and pull him into another kiss.

You didn’t think much before starting to palm his length, causing him to moan into your mouth. Thomas started thrusting as you were stroking him. He could cum just like that, but you wanted more. And he did too.

As your back rested on the cold table, Thomas climbed on top of you, neither daring to break the kiss. You couldn’t even wrap your legs around him, a detail he found really cute. He pulled away from the kiss only to look at your expression again. Was this really ok? Is this really what you wanted? You looked so beautiful and so turned on. Rubbing yourself against his erection was all the confirmation he needed before slowly starting to push his cock into you.

Feeling him inside you completely knocked the air out of you, immediately kissing him again, moaning into his mouth. Your figure, your voice, your shaking body were making Thomas go feral. His grunts on the other hand made your whole stomach feel hot. Thomas was thrusting into you, firmly holding your waist with one hand and supporting himself up with the other. Your arms were wrapped around his back, face buried into his neck, trying to muffle your moans.

He was hitting all the right spots, causing your mind to go blank and your nails to dig into his skin. Once his voice became shakier, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Oh fuck…” you moaned and he responded by thrusting even harder. It was almost as if your every moan was making Thomas go more feral.

His rhythm was becoming more erratic, signaling that he was getting closer.

“It ok Tommy” you said between moans “I want you. Fill me up, please Tommy”.

Saying that was enough to push him over the edge. After a few more thrusts he came with a low, guttural moan, completely intoxicated by you.

You were both panting and looking at each other afterward. He couldn’t believe what just happened. Were you a dream? No. You were there, smiling at him. Did that mean you were his now? Yes. Most definitely.

He picked you up off of the table, squeezing you close to him. He was still panting and so were you, yet, both happy and finally content.

[small-sinclair]

Telling Him You’re Pregnant

Bo Sinclair || Johnny Sawyer || Rusty Nail || Thomas Hewitt || Rz!Michael Myers

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He kisses you sweetly. “Tell me again,” he whispers. “Say it.” He’s nervous. He’s never nervous.

Tears fell as you held his cheeks, whispering again, “We’re pregnant.”

His rough, calloused hands touched your stomach gently. He felt like he was going to drop to his knees but didn’t. He couldn’t. He had to be strong enough for the both of you. He’d be damned if you got hurt because he was too weak.

“I love you,” he says in your hair, kissing you on the forehead then lips. “I love you.”

He held you a bit tighter that night and made sure his knife stayed by his side of the bed.

[o-cow-o]

Not my best work but I’m still proud of how these bad boys came out 👍

[sleepingdeath-light]

hey:D ‼️ slashers x a femme bimbo reader? i would love michael, tommy, vincent+ bo, and jennifer? (whoever else u choose is fine) please and thank you!

Bimbo S/O Headcanons | Multiple Slashers (18+)

thank you for requesting, anon!

reader is assumed as being female and a bimbo

there’s no sex described, but there’s a lot of sexual talk around the reader, hence the smut tag

this includes : billy lenz, brahms heelshire, carrie white, jennifer check, michael myers, the sinclair twins & thomas hewitt

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

billy lenz

billy is a pervert by nature and would have sexualised you irrespective of how you acted or what you wore (when there’s a will, there’s a way and all of that)

but you being a bimbo made it all so much easier and so much more enjoyable for the unknown voyeur

it seemed like everything you did have him an erection as he stared at you through cracks in the ceiling and walls and doors

how your short pink skirt would ride up and show your pretty panties whenever you bent over or sat down

how your tight white shirt did little to hide your breasts or the fact that you’d opted to go braless

the way you frequently stumbled and tripped in those pink heels — exposing your ass to him more often than even he could have wished for

all of that was enough of a dream come true, but the moment you picked up the phone and he got a true exposure to your delightfully ditzy and naively trusting persona this man was a goner

you were his dream-girl through-and-through

his pretty piggy who’s only good at taking billy’s thick cock into her dumb holes

his bimbo that has no chance of escaping him or his lewd calls and comments

of course you were his the moment you stepped foot in his house, but you continuously exposing yourself for him (as he perceived it, anyway) just gave him the go ahead to claim you entirely

and you’d best believe that he’ll want you dressing as sluttily as possible at all times

bo sinclair

although he tends to present himself as the perfect southern gentleman at first glance, bo is a verifiable pervert with pretty much no shame

it would have taken a remarkable amount of self restraint for him to keep up the act in front of your group — especially with you looking and acting like that

tight shirt, mini skirt and a body that he just wanted to lose himself in

god it was like you were made for him, but that could wait until he had splintered your group

but until then, he sated himself by glancing down your top whenever you leaned forwards, lifting up your skirt whenever he got the chance and catching you whenever you tripped (getting away with many less-than-innocent touches due to your obliviousness)

his advances get more and more aggressive and obvious as your group is picked off one by one until you’re the only one left untouched and somehow still oblivious to your situation

and bo finds himself torn between keeping you around as an alibi and a good fuck, or just using and discarding you to vincent as he’d done before

in the end, of course, he ends up deciding to let you live whilst putting on a whole show of wooing you so that you think you’re staying willingly — justifying it by saying you’ll help future “tourists” feel at home

but his brothers can tell that he’s grown more than a little fond of your presence (beyond, even, your sex appeal and naïveté — shockingly to all involved, he actually seems to care)

brahms heelshire

you were not what anyone in the heelshire family were looking for when they sought out a nanny

you were clumsy and naive; not being able to do much in education or housework without inevitably messing something up

you were a veritable slut without the intent; with tiny skirts and translucent shirts that could barely even be considered clothing and that certainly weren’t conducive with the image they wanted to present as a family

but, to brahms, you were perfect

the perfectly dainty damsel in distress for him to leer and gawk at from behind the walls as you went about your day hopelessly attempting to abide by his schedule

and whilst you frequently forgot certain rules, he let you off — equally because he knew you weren’t acting intentionally and because he loved watching you too much to let you go

his favourite times of day were those that necessitated you coming into contact with water or bending over because they gave him the most wonderful views of your body that often appeared in his masturbation fantasies

loves the way you coo over and jokingly scold his doll — actually just loves hearing you say his name and talk to “him”

is much more possessive and protective when it comes to anyone bringing supplies to the house because of, well, everything about you

like it’s all well and good having a pretty little thing with nice tits and ass to stare at all day and night, but issues arise when somebody else gets to look at what’s his

and even if you’re too ditzy and naive to recognise the grocery boy’s intentions, brahms is all too aware of what goes on in a man’s head

and he may just take it upon himself to show everyone, including you, what happens when someone touches what belongs to him

carrie white

carrie was brought up in a highly conservative christian background — so, needless to say, your presence itself would be a significant shock to the poor girl

everything about you is a complete upturning of the values she was raised with, from your personality to the way you dressed

god, the way you dressed was sin personified and every time she caught herself staring she’d mutter a quick prayer for forgiveness

tight white shirts, short pink skirts and high pink heels — a recipe for disaster that she found herself drawn to

those miniskirts would so frequently ride up your thighs and expose your tiny pink panties to anyone who dared to look whenever you stalled in readjusting them (though they were always short enough to expose those thighs of yours)

those shirts that would turn wonderfully transparent whenever you got even slightly damp (be that through rain or spillage) and exposed your otherwise bare chest to prying eyes

those heels that were the cause of so many incidents like those above

and, values be damned, she was more thankful for your obliviousness than anything else as she didn’t know what she’d do if you recognised the way her peers leered at you

how she looked at you with so much lust, with eyes that lingered too long to be innocent on your chest and the apex of your thighs and your ass

how she thought of you whenever she touched herself, one hand balled up in a fist that she bit down on to muffle herself whilst the other crept between her legs to toy with her puffy lips and swollen clit and seeping hole

you, in all of your naïveté and clumsiness, were at the centre of all of her fantasies and she wanted nothing more than to keep you in the dark about it all for as long as possible

jennifer check

you and her will almost inevitably end up sharing clothing and/or accessories because your styles match so well

date nights will consist of you sharing skincare routines and doing each other’s makeup

she uses your nature and appearance to her benefit, ramping up her sexuality with you in public to help lure in men for her to kill and feed on

she repays you with plentiful sex, affection and spoiling with money she gets from her “boyfriends”

will shamelessly ogle you whenever you lean forwards or bend over and gets a kick out of flustering you just as much as when she gets away with being a complete perv

gropes you in public like all of the time and usually plays it off as innocent or accidental — would stop if you asked, though

50/50 whether she lets you in on what she’s doing so you can help or strings you along as an accomplice

loves how oblivious you are and gets off on the power dynamic between you and her as the more experienced, dominant partner

buys you the most transparent, slutty, short clothes that she can find for you both so you can match, she can get food, and she can see as much of you as possible at all times

she will shift targets on a dime if she notices someone getting too close to comfort and taking advantage you in the same way she does — and she makes a point to show everyone that you’re very much so taken

makes you wear underwear that she chooses so anyone else ogling you gets a blatant reminder of who you belong to

michael myers (any)

initially michael found your demeanour more annoying and inconvenient than anything else

you were attractive, of course, but your clumsiness and obliviousness just made him frustrated — made him want to stalk you to force you to notice the word around you

and he did. for well over a month

even going into your home and standing over you as you slept, rearranging things in your house, anything to get you to notice that something was up

but you never did

even when he confronted you on your walk home and started following you, very obviously, you just chatted with him as if nothing was wrong and how much of a coincidence it was you were going the same way

you even complimented his mask — which immediately made you more tolerable

and almost made up for the dozen times he’d watched you trip over thin air or otherwise expose yourself to people unintentionally

after a while he even became somewhat protective, targeting people that were sexually aggressive or otherwise weird towards you to get his frustrations out before returning to his routine of stalking you

at one point he began to masturbate to the sight of you — which he’d never been able to do given his life being spent entirely in an institution with no privacy

he takes full advantage of your naïveté to tease and manipulate you, especially after you realise who he is

he just signs that he won’t hurt you if you let him stay with you and don’t tell anyone he’s there

and you oblige

and he doesn’t hurt you

the only real change is having to deal with him shamelessly staring at you all of the time, but after you get together you don’t really mind so it’s not really that big of a deal

thomas hewitt

everything about you seems perfectly engineered to turn this poor man into a flustered, red-in-the-face, 404-ing mess

you’re not exactly what his mother had raised him to look for in a woman but that made you somehow more attractive? like a forbidden fruit in a sense

your high high heels that you constantly tripped over weren’t exactly made for life in their rural town but your confidence in them made him reluctant to have you change

those teeny-tiny shorts and skirts left nothing to the imagination when it came to those smooth, long legs and those brightly coloured thongs you wore and caused him a lot of trouble whenever he caught a glimpse of you and ended up dropping his tools

your thin white shirts that hoyt always managed to get wet somehow were incredibly form fitting and gave him the perfect view of your chest

but whilst your body and sexuality haunted his mind and left him wanting and guilty when he’d reach between his legs for relief at the end of the day — it was your demeanour that captured his heart and endeared him to you

your naïveté kept you up and out of the way of the family’s dirtier dealings and meant they didn’t have to hide anything too hard as you believed whatever they promised to you

he felt bad for lying but he also knew it was a necessary evil

and your clumsy nature meant that any guests felt more at ease around you, joking around and letting their guard down to flirt with you which made his job a whole lot easier

so, needless to say, you were definitely a good investment for the family even if you kept unintentionally torturing poor thomas with your displays of sexuality and femininity throughout the house

vincent sinclair

you immediately caught vincent’s eye when you entered ambrose because of how different you were from your companions

your clothes were more revealing and feminine: all light colours, cropped edges, frills, pastels and the whole nine yards

definitely a far cry from the muted neutrals and heavy jumpers that he usually saw

more artistically inspiring, barbie like even

it made you attractive, certainly, but it also made him want to preserve you as an art piece even more — he wanted to capture your beauty permanently

but then your personality endeared you to him

you were immediately kind and trusting towards his twin, which painted you as a very naïve person but the genuine way you defended him and scolded your friends for interrupting the “funeral” caught his heart

hell, even bo seemed taken a back by your demeanour (before trying to look down your shirt, of course)

and then there was the clumsiness that gave him the perfect view of each and every angle of your body that those short, tight clothes did little to hide as you stumbled and tripped over your heels in the museum

even gentlemen have their limits and, from what he justified as artistic curiosity, he indulged himself in plenty of looks

you even made him chuckle a few times when you apologised to the figures you fell onto

all of it, to him, made you seem so much better than your companions — someone worth saving and keeping as a living art piece in ambrose

it wouldn’t be hard to convince his brothers, they were always talking about needing some company

and, beside, you didn’t strike him as the sort to be hard to lie to

so if you believed your friends abandoned you, maybe you’d be happy to stay with them — and, maybe, you’d never have to learn about the truth of ambrose and it’s wax museum

and he’d get to ogle you all he liked from behind the safety of his mask (only as an artist, of course! he’d never sexualise you… or at least he tries to claim as much to himself)

[morimemichael]

Calling the slashers/killers ‘pretty’

Head cannons on how slashers/killers would react to reader calling them pretty. Includes OG! Michael Myers, RZ! Michael Myers, Ghostface (Stu and Billy), Pyramid Head, Thomas Hewitt and Mark Hoffman (SAW series)

OG! Michael Myers

You notice him stalking you throughout the week, and it was needlessly to say you found it oddly interesting.

Of course you knew who he was, and apparently, for your brain, that was ‘attractive’ enough to wonder about him

So, the night he decided to break in to obviously kill you, you took action

Somewhere between all the struggle you made, his unexpressed latex mask flew off, somewhere around your kitchen floor

The light that came from outside was enough to see his face, and boy, you find him attractive

He panic at the fact of not having his mask, and quickly look for it and successfully found it. With a single swift move his mask was back on. He was ready to kill you when you spoke

“Y-your pretty Michael, you know that?”

He tilted his head at your statement, you couldn’t see it, but his cheeks were blushing. He didn’t know what hated the most, the fact that he couldn’t kill you now or the fact that he actually liked you calling him pretty

His hand holding the knife stutter for a second before letting you go and giving you his signature head tilt again

It’s not necessary to say that since that night he came to your home every night and took off his mask in front of you so you can call him pretty again

And this time you do see him blush

RZ! Michael Myers

You were a childhood friend of his, and the crush was mutual

Tho when you were like around 9yo, you moved to another town so you never found out about Michael killing his stepdad and sister, or at least you had no idea until many years later, when you moved back to Haddonfield

What he did was horrendous, yet you couldn’t stop feeling bad for him somehow

So this night you were getting ready to go to bed, brushing your teeth you notice a man standing behind you

You could see his reflection through the mirror you had in front of you

You knew Michael was, well a killer, but you didn’t know how he looked like, so many years have passed and the last image you had of him was completely different

Non the less, that didn’t stop Michael from recognizing you

You were about to scream when he got closer and covered your mouth with his enormous hand. By now you were struggling and panicked

Michael noticed this and with his free hand took his mask off, revealing his face. He was different but still you knew it was him

“Michael…?”

He didn’t answer, instead he moved his hand from your mouth and gently turned you around, slowly looking at your form head to toe

From the moment you saw his eyes you knew he didn’t have to answer, he was Michael indeed, how couldn’t you recognize his beautiful blue eyes?

“Michael!” You say happily

He stays silent, but a small almost invisible smile formed on his lips

You cupped his cheek with your hand, and rubbed his skin with your thumb

Smiling you tell him “We haven’t seen each other for over ten years and still your the pretty one” You smile

His hole face turned red when he herd the word pretty

You always wanted to tell him how you felt, but never got an actual chance for it

Once you told him how you’ve felt all this years, his reaction was the sweetest

He gave you a bag hug and swing you in the air, he was beyond happy

Ghostface (Stu)

“You know, you’re…pretty Stu…”

You were in his house, music as loud as it could be, you were hoping he didn’t hear you, cause you just kinda declared to him

He gave you a ‘what did you said’ look, waiting for you to answer

“Nothing…just forget it”

YEAH, YOU THOUGHT THAT WAS GOING TO WORK? Well it didn’t

He took you by the hand and made you fallow him upstairs

When you asked him why upstairs he gave you a lame excuse

“I didn’t catch what ya said down there” he said moving closer to you

“I said you’re pretty…” you look at him straight in the eyes

“Oh…I know, I heard you. I just wanted to have some…privacy” He had a mischievous smile on his lips

You grin before he pull you down to his bed

(Billy)

You two were having a heated kiss by the window of your bedroom when you herd footsteps coming up the stairs

You assumed it must be your dad or your mom

“Billy, you should go…someone’s coming”

He pouted and gave you his puppy eyes

“Pleaseeee?…” He asked

As much as you wanted to tell him ‘yes’, you knew better than to piss your dad or mom

“Come on pretty boy, you know I can get in trouble..”

He blushed a pale tone of pink at your words, he was staring at you like you left him dumb or something like that

He then snapped out of it “Okay, okay…see you tomorrow?” He asked

“Yeah pretty boy, see you tomorrow…”

He giggled and stumbled at the word ‘pretty’

Pyramid Head

Did you just called him pretty? No way, he must’ve herd you wrong

Oh…apparently he didn’t YOU DID CALLED HIM PRETTY

Now it’s stuck in his head and it’s all he can think about

He likes it tho

And definitely expect him to want you to call him pretty all the time

With time he even let you adorn his pyramid with cute little pink stuff

He won’t say that he likes it but trust me HE LIKES IT

Specially if you call him your ‘pretty monster’

He’ll definitely want you to call him pretty during segsy time too 😏

Thomas Hewitt

You called him pretty? Why tho? Haven’t you seen him?

That’s what he thought the first time you called him that

Immediately you receive the princess treatment

Cause why not? You treat him well, he wants to do the same with you. You’re his love after all

Expect him to giggle a little bit whenever you call him pretty or beautiful or what so ever

And if you kiss his unmasked face while you call him pretty? You’ll give him a heart attack

He loves it

He’ll make sure you feel loved and pretty as well

He’ll make you dinner and give you flowers every now and then

Basically anything you want, you get

Definitely expect him to want you to call him pretty 24/7

He’s like a child OK!?

Mark Hoffman

He thinks you’re joking, you must be joking

Nobody calls him pretty, and you wouldn’t be the exception, right?

Ha! Liar….deep down he loves it, and not just because you bust his ego, but also you make him feel loved….somehow

He thinks he’s unlovable, I mean, he’s a monster right?

Well, that doesn’t stop you from loving him or calling him pretty

The first times you would call him that, he would show no emotion or reaction whatsoever

But once you get to his, somehow, ‘tender’ side, he’ll slowly start reacting

Maybe a ‘you’re pretty as fuck too’ or maybe even a peck to your lips

And consider yourself blessed if you see him blush….cause he rarely does

And if you happen to see him blush..? Well you didn’t

Cause how could he blush right? Him? He’s mean and bad, he doesn’t blush

You even reacted once, to his blushing

“If-if you ever, you wouldn’t-Ahgg, please don’t tell anyone” He said, as he blushed even more, the tone on his voice defeated

You just laugh since you found him cute

“You’re little…pink secret is safe with me, detective” You told him

You kissed he blushed cheeks and called him cute

“Hey! I’m not!”

“Yes you are!” You said as you walked away

“I love you so much….” Mark said, knowing you weren’t around to hear it

Cause you would have died right there in the spot

Well, I hope you enjoy this!! I’m also working on a Ghostface x Michael x F!reader fic, so stay tuned 😏

[amomentsescape]

Eldritch monster anon here! So to answer your question, yep that image you shared is what I have in mind ^^

Slashers with Reader Who's Secretly an Eldritch Horror

Slashers x Reader

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Lester

A/N: I'm not super confident I wrote Reader correctly, and I didn't go into too much depth about what they look like or everything they're capable of, so I hope you still like it! You can find the original request here.

Freddy Krueger

He can't help but fantasize of the damage you two can cause when together

He sensed something was a little different about you from the beginning

But he didn't think it would be quite this drastic

What's funny though is that he thinks you don't know that he's found out about you

He's dead wrong

But it's kind of a game to you, and you're having fun with it

He's "secretly" caught you distorting the people and things around you

And he admires that fact since he does the same thing in his Dream World

You were hoping he'd catch on sooner

But oh well

It's just more fun that way

Michael Myers

He somehow doesn't know already, and you kind of want to keep it that way

Michael has this thing with power

He knows he's unstoppable, chaotic, and deadly

And he likes it that way

If he ever found out about the things you're capable of...

It would not be good

Your partnership would go from providing to battling

He wants- needs to be the monster in the relationship

And although you have the upper hand on him, he would not go down without a fight

He knows there's a darkness brewing in you

He just doesn't know quite what it is

And let's hope it stays that way

Jason Voorhees

He honestly learns about what you are pretty early on

He didn't really assume anything was off about you, but he was so open and sweet to you that you felt comfortable enough to tell him about everything

And knowing that he's not the most dangerous being around is somewhat... nice

He really admires your power and strength

And it feels good to be able to leave for a while and not worry that something will happen to you

You are more than capable of protecting yourself, and that lifts a huge weight off of Jason's shoulders

Perhaps he's too trusting, but he doesn't worry about you turning that dark power on him

You've only showed him genuine love and care, so he feels like he has nothing to worry about

Thomas Hewitt

Perhaps he's being a little naive

The way you immediately ate his "dinner" without so much as a question

The sudden increase of people coming by the house and being captured

How you come out of the most dangerous areas unscathed

There is clearly something about you that isn't... normal

But it's not his place to question it

He loves you, and you love him

End of story

Even if he did start to question what's really going on, he wouldn't press the matter

He figures you'll open up to him whenever you're ready

And if that's never, then so be it

Bubba Sawyer

He's just a sweet, naive man

You could literally show your true colors right in front of his eyes, and he'd still have no clue

But it doesn't really matter

He loves you for you no matter what you look like or what you're capable of

As long as you still care for him like this, you can do whatever you want

He will admit that his family has had a much easier time getting "food" than ever before

And those that do come by are really easy to capture since you've been with him

But those are just coincidences, surely

You're his sweet angel

He has to protect you

Little does he know that you really can handle yourself...

Brahms Heelshire

He has found it a little odd that the food still arrives on time without so much as a word from Malcolm

And he hasn't seen a single soul since you began to staying with him

But he's very happy with all of this, so he doesn't question it

He can sense that you're a little... different than other people

But that's part of the reason he likes you so much in the first place

He only realizes the true extent to this theory when you somehow force him to bed without so much as a touch

He was completely flabbergasted at this, but he didn't dare question it

Safe to say that he has no intention on giving you a hard time again

Norman Bates

He doesn't question a thing

If anything, you're his good luck charm since all of these good things started to happen when you showed up

The motel business is booming

Any issues he was dealing with seemed to disappear in plain sight

Everything seems to be going his way for once

Mother keeps telling him there's something off about you, but he ignores her

What does she mean?

You're his sweet and perfect partner

There's nothing else to it

You want to show him the truth at some point, but he just seems so happy right now

Maybe you'll tell him later

Billy Loomis

Billy straight up demands for you to tell him what's going on

Unlike a lot of people, Billy follows his gut instinct

He's known something was up with since you two started seeing each other

His world was just too... perfect

And he swears that there's this dark aura that surrounds your head at all hours of the day

It's only after his latest kill went too well that he interrogates you

When you tell him, he asks you to prove it

The look on his face when you showed him just what you were was enough to send you into a fit of laughter

To be honest, Billy is a little bit scared of you now

Knowing that you're capable of literally taking him out of existence is intimidating to say the least

Best believe Billy is going to do his best not to get on your bad side

Stu Macher

Stu is true golden retriever energy

Meaning, he is very sweet and loving towards you, but there's not much else going on inside that brain of his

He doesn't suspect a single thing with you

You are his perfect partner, and that's about it

Sure, his killings with Billy have been going super well, and he always comes out unscathed

Yeah, that person who shushed him in the movie theater was found completely mutilated the next day

What about it?

You wouldn't have anything to do with it

Stu just thinks that you are made out of 100% innocence

And you kind of like it that way

You'll tell him when you're ready

Until then, you just appreciate Stu treating you like a person and not some powerful God

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent has been finding himself with a new sense of inspiration for his wax art

He dreams of this ethereal yet terrifying being he has never seen before

He's told you about the dreams, and you always respond with a soft smile and a "that's interesting"

Vincent as no clue that you're the creature he's been seeing

And you must say, his art is pretty damn accurate

You didn't have any intentions on telling him the truth, at least not right away

But the way he sees this version of you as his muse makes you want to say something sooner

He's basically idolizing you, and he doesn't even know it

Not that he doesn't act this way with you normally

But how fun it could be to see his reaction once you tell him the truth

Bo Sinclair

Maybe he suspects something is going on, but he doesn't say anything

Ignorance is bliss

And although he's usually one to demand what he wants to know, he doesn't quite feel comfortable doing that with you

There's something in those eyes of yours that tells him he may be better off not knowing

Plus, things for him and Ambrose have been going suspiciously well for him

He literally had some random man run up to him begging to become one of the wax figures

This is all just odd

And he knows you're hiding something by the way you smile at him

But everything is so perfect that he doesn't want to ruin it

So for now, let him be ignorant

Lester Sinclair

He's never really been in a relationship as passionate as this one before

So you best believe any single thought or doubt that goes through his head is immediately thrown out

He loves you, and you're so nice to him

There's no way you could be hiding something from him, right?

I mean, it's a little odd how you seem to appear from thin air, and your hair never has a single strand out of place

There was something that feels... not real

But that's just crazy

He probably only feels that way because of how perfect he thinks you are

Until you explicitly stand before him in your true form, he's going to just ignore these thoughts

[angled-blade]

How the Slashers met you

Slashers; Billy Lenz, Bubba Sawyer, Ghostface (Billy Loomis + Stu Macher), Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers (OG + RZ), Thomas Hewitt

To be fair, you’d never have expected this to happen.

• Billy Lenz

So long as you are associated with the sorority—be it that you frequent their home or live in it, Billy would have already known all about you. He’s even started adding you as an additional detail to his calls, unnerving the girls even more the longer they were occupying the house.

~

“Shh! It’s the Moaner!” One of the sorority girls exclaimed, attempting to hush the bustling Christmas party. The chattering came to an abrupt pause, as multiple footsteps neared the rotary phone that sat atop the table. His voice rang through, surprising them with the new addition animosity. The disembodied voice began chanting your name, similar to a mantra before crudely cackling once more. Barb steps in, feeling quite irritated that the man changed his sights from the sorority to you—someone who isn’t even a resident of the home.

“Why are you— ___’s got nothing to do with this, you fucking creep!”

“Naughty, naughty piggy.. Billy knows.. Billy wants ___! Tell Billy, bitch piggy—tell Billy now!” The man screamed many more expletives toward the girls, Barb having held the phone at an arm’s length as she waited for his response. The girls clung onto eachother, worry appearing on their faces the more they listened. One of the girls took matters into her own hands, snatching the phone and hanging up—cutting off the Moaner’s rage-filled screaming from reaching them. Silence returned in the house, with the girls looking at each other knowing now that you were involved in their mess.

They knew they had to let you know as soon as possible.

• Bubba Sawyer

Multiple factors were in place in which you would be spared by both Bubba and Drayton, it’s possible that you knew the Texan family when they were still active in the slaughterhouse. There was also the offchance that Drayton held a soft spot for you, which guaranteed your survival.

~

“Woah, woah, woah! Ain’t that someone familiar, Bubba?” Drayton’s voice seemed to hold a tone of surprise, as if he was not expecting a victim. The younger Sawyer tilted his head in confusion, multiple questions forming in his head as he wondered what it was that seemed to bewilder the ever so uptight Drayton. He remembered bringing back two people, both were knocked out by the blunt force of slamming the back of the chainsaw against their heads.

“Ya’ don’t look at ’em, don’t ya’... Look at ’em real close up.” He ordered, Bubba following his line of sight as he focuses on you. He squints through the mask, drinking in the image of you. As if lightning struck his own—he now realised who it was he struck himself. A shocked squeal erupted from his throat, his legs now on autopilot as he stumbled toward your unconscious body, babbling apologies as he held you. The excessive movement had you waking up soon after.

You found yourself face to face with Bubba, who seemed sheepish.

• Ghostface

  • Billy Loomis

You might have met either through Stu or at the VHS store while you asked the closest person—that being him—for recommendations, resulting in an engaging discussion of horror films before quickly devolving into you exchanging numbers to each other before heading home.

~

“Good talk, I totally get your enthusiasm. It was nice talking to you… Uh..”

“Billy. Billy Loomis. It was nice talking to you too.. Wanna talk later? We can exchange numbers.”

You nodded, passing him your number before leaving the VHS store. Sure, it wasn’t every day that you met a diehard fan of horror movies, even going so far as to get into the details of the production itself and quoting directly from the actors—you were in no place to judge a person for their interests. You had your own interests and you’re sure you’d be passionate too if someone asked you about it.

It was already night by the time you were at home looking over the new movies rented for the time being. Feeling indecisive, you kept shuffling through the choices you had. By a stroke of luck, you were greeted with a familiar voice. A smile appeared on your features as you began talking to Billy. It was as if he were providing you with his own reassurance through simply talking to you. With all pleasantries aside, down came the questions.

“Hey, Billy.” His response was strangely quiet, a soft yeah as his reply. He’s probably busy with something.

“Remember those movies you saw me pick out?” A hum in agreement now. 

“Which one’s your favourite?”

  • Stu Macher

You are associated with Stu in school, often acting as his cover whenever he was up to his shenanigans. How were you upgraded to such a role? It was because you were seated closest toward the door to the classroom. You even stalled the teacher whenever he snuck back in.

~

“Did you see the look on her face? Did you see!?” Stu nudged you, a wide grin over his features.

You chuckled with him. No matter how many times you promised to not entertain Stu’s antics—it was pretty damn funny at how easily he got under the skin of those he pranked. In your eyes, it was merely harmless fun, there wasn’t any reason to get angry about it seeing how the pranks were juvenile. Even then, the only one jeopardising his time was him, really. Though you supposed that there were changes. One thing that was different was that Stu began approaching you outside of class.

“Hey, uh.. ___? How about we head out for lunch and.. y’know, hang out then?” He asked, scratching the back of his head nervously as he waited for your response. He lit up once he saw you perk up.

“Oh, sure. Where do you think we should go?” You asked, interested to know, much to Stu’s delight. He clapped his hands as if he struck gold after a moment of thinking. He smiled at you, his eyes scanning the hallway that was now empty. 

“I know just the place! Hmm.. think you can handle skipping the day?” He asked, seeing your face quickly contort into one of concern. He laughed in amusement, patting your back assuringly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll cover for you this time!”

• Jason Voorhees

He assumed that he had seen every type of person who trekked along his home, but never would he expect to see someone who came alone and blended in with the environment. Jason watched you, waiting in silence for you to do something that would allow him to strike. You never did.

~

Jason’s hands were tightly balled into fists, his gaze boring into your back as he followed you around quietly. He waited for you to commit a discrepancy, a mistake that would lead to your death and yet here you were, taking photos. You avoided the trail that led into his territory—meaning you followed the signs to not trespass. Your orderliness initially irritated him, as he presumed it wouldn’t take long before you broke it—so he kept watching you, waiting.

The more time passed, his frustrations with you turned into one of simple respect. You kept to yourself and made sure to keep away from the sectioned off areas. Jason returned to his routine, from where he began to watch you less. What he didn’t realise was that he would be sighted in those very photos you took, which didn’t go unnoticed by you. You were alarmed, though you kept that concern aside in case it were a fault of the camera. Despite that, you attempted to entertain yourself by getting flowers by one of the many spots he was sighted.

When you returned to that spot, the flowers were not rotting as you expected. 

They were gone.

 Instead, a fresh pink rose laid under the ‘Welcome to Camp Crystal Lake’ sign. 

• Michael Myers

  • ’78/OG

Crossing paths with someone during his downtime was something that was strange, but never unexpected. OG found himself intrigued with you—just what were you doing, walking the streets of Haddonfield at three in the morning? He was curious, deciding to watch you after that encounter.

~

Michael watched you move about on your nights once more, seeing how you weaved through the streets as you held onto the groceries. You seemed to be well established in Haddonfield, though not many of the residents were anything but mere acquaintances that you were coincidentally on good terms with. You never knew them personally, but you knew them enough to be something that can remain in their memories for a good week or two. 

Michael watched you move closer toward him, appearing distracted before bumping shoulders with him. Your head quickly faced him, apologising. Before you could leave, however, Michael grabbed a few of the bags that you had dropped when you had bumped into him, head tilting slightly. This was considered heavy? You couldn’t tell him by his face, though you asked him to help with the bags if he didn’t mind. He began to move, in which you took it was his way of saying, ‘yes’. You thanked him either way. The residents of Haddonfield were nice. 

You made your way home, taking out your keys before you heard the sound of bags hitting onto the front porch. You turned around to thank the helpful man once more, but he was gone. 

  • RZ

It was difficult to catch his attention with how he resorts to living inside his mind majority of the time, if there happened to not be any goal present to drive him. You happened to intercept it right before he was to transition into it. Your disturbance now led to you right on his radar.

~

Not once had you felt unsafe in your home with all the doors and windows locked and shut tight—ensuring any break-in attempts to be close to null. That was until now, long after you had passed that man who had been standing near that old, abandoned Myers home. He seemed lost in though, though you couldn’t know for sure. You chalked it up as him being one of those young adults who had felt like they needed to prove something by entering a scrutinised place. 

“What’s the point? Let them rest in peace..” You grumbled under your breath, quickening your pace as you headed home, unaware of the fact that the man by the home was now looking in your direction. 

Michael followed you into your home, absorbing the layout in its entirety before he hid himself out of sight as you continued your routine at home. Michael took note of the fact that you were glancing around a lot more, your face holding one of discomfort. He inferred that you felt him watching you—meaning that you were more aware than the others. He made sure to commit it to memory to replay as you resigned for the night and head to bed. You woke up later at night, feeling an urge to survey your room before slumber could return to you.

You couldn’t help but feel a shiver down your spine once you saw your bedroom window open.

• Thomas Hewitt

You had to know of him without the influence of Sheriff Hoyt in the way. You might accidentally cross paths at an abandoned area of Texas, one that was Thomas’ personal retreat whenever he feels overwhelmed by his family. With no chainsaw and you simply passing by, he let you go. 

~

“I didn’t know that there were still people living here—Sorry, sorry. I’m just passing through, really.” You stammered, staring at the man who stood before you. He donned a mask that covered his mouth and nose, the material appeared to be one out of leather, which intrigued you. 

“That’s a really nice mask you have. Did you make it yourself?” You asked, genuine curiosity ever so present in your voice as you did so. His gaze was otherworldly, as if they were staring right through you, despite the fact that he bore human eyes.

All it took was a grunt and a nod to have you letting up slowly. Thomas continued to stare, taking in your features as you stood there, similar to a deer in headlights. You didn’t insult his appearance or made comparison of him with an animal. He thought through possibilities, before he ultimately decided that you weren’t worth the chase—especially with him simply wanting time alone by himself. It took Thomas all he had to speak, the words seeming to escape from him when he did.

“..Go home.” His voice was softer than he recalled, though he chalked it up to him not finding a need to do so at this point, but you got the message. You made sure to say goodbye before leaving him be.

It felt almost fortuitous that you managed to escape the way you did.

I hope you enjoyed these headcanons and have had a wonderful New Year! I have a lot more headcanons and stories to post for you guys!

I am also extremely happy to see positive responses regarding those two fics including OG Michael and Bubba respectively.. I really appreciate it!! There will be another story, more specifically a Jason Voorhees/Reader fic. Be on the lookout for that sometime soon. (:

Once again, please reblog this post!

Thank you for reading this, have a great day/night!! (:

[mauswyx]

old ties, new beginnings [ch.2]

Thomas Hewitt x f!reader: ch1 // ch3

TLDR: By chance, Thomas encounters someone from his past and gets to be treated like a normal guy for an afternoon–except he doesn't want the treatment to stop. [pt.2]

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

CW: mention of past trauma/abuse, slight nudity

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“I’m really glad you remember me...”

She was sitting with her legs sprawled out in front of her while she leaned back onto her hands, staring out over the lake-top as the warm breeze gently weaved through her hair. The lake was practically still, save for a few ducks that had flown down; she watched as they preened their feathers and dove for fish.

Thomas gave a low hum to let her know he had heard her; he was sitting cross-legged a meter or so behind her, pulling at the grass around him. The ever looming thought of what he’d have to do made him nervous. A part of him hoped you’d excuse yourself right now and leave; Hoyt would find you—take you back to the house and you’d just be cattle again. It would be easier that way. He could put on his face and you’d never know it was him…your dying thoughts wouldn’t be hate for him. The image of you dying caused a pain in his chest; the pain only worsened when the thought of you calling out for him, begging him to save you flooded his mind. Would your final words be his name on your tongue? To his horror, the idea excited him. You had been nothing but compassionate towards him–a beacon of warmth when all anyone else had done was treat him like an animal, a beast. And here he was, daydreaming about slaughtering you.

With a slight groan you pulled your stiff legs to your chest, snuggly wrapping your arms around them with a satisfied purr. His shirt rode up your thighs and rested around your hips, slightly exposing your bottom; with a grunt he darted his eyes away from your flesh. He didn’t deserve to look at you in such a way–not when he was going to be the one to wipe you from this earth. His fists clenched at the dead grass as the situation weighed on him; he didn’t want to do it. He really didn’t. He wanted to stay in this moment forever–wanted to live in a time where you wanted his company, content to sit in his presence without fear or judgment. In this moment you were alive. Alive with him. 

He looked to the sky, to whatever god Mama had long since given up on getting him to pray to, for an answer. No one else had ever done the things you had done and it had to mean something. It had to.

It had been him to stumble upon you, no one else, like you were a gift left by the heavens waiting just for him. His. Straightening his back and releasing his grip on the grass, the thought dawned on him. You could be his. Everyone else seemed to have their own company–be it sisters, pets, or working girls–so why couldn’t he? He could be good to you: he would treat you much better than a pet and substantially better than the way Hoyt treated his guests. 

He’d take care of all your needs–you’d be his responsibility, he was the one inaugurating you after all. You’d be well fed, he wouldn’t rest until you had a full stomach every night; you’d never get bored, sitting in with Mama and his aunt on their lunchins or more realistically tending to your own chores around the homestead; and though he, himself, didn’t really care for bathing, he figured a respectable woman such as yourself would, so he’d make sure you had every opportunity to stay clean; the house had many rooms but most of them were filled with clutter so you’d have to wait a bit before getting your own room. He pondered for a moment, thinking about what room would suit you best; he liked the idea of you having one of the rooms with the fancy windows that Mama once cherished. In the meantime, you’d have to stay in his room…have to share a bed with him too. His fingers twitched at the thought of sleeping next to you. He had to physically shake his head, when the thought of you waiting-up for him at night after a hard day's work–unable to sleep without him crept into his head; he couldn’t get distracted by such thoughts, there was still so much left to work-out.

You had sealed your fate upon entering the town’s border; in his heart-of-hearts, Thomas knew this was the only way to keep you alive and that’s all he wanted; that’s all that mattered. You’d definitely need some adjusting to their way of life–you were a saint but he knew not even you could understand right away why they needed to do the things they did, but you could learn. He’d keep you alive–even if it killed you.

The sound of a sniffle pulled him from his plotting.

You had hidden your face in the crook of your arms that now rested atop your knees, while he had thought out his plan. Oh no. What had he done? Did you finally realize how disgusting he was and were mortified to be with him? Had you said something personal and he had ignored you–too caught up in his own world? How could he be so selfish! He let out a whine as his thoughts ran wild with possibilities of what he could’ve done to upset you. It felt as though his very world was crumbling around him–keeping you needed the foundation of you not despising him.

“I’m sorry…” you huffed out, raising your head to wipe at your eyes, “I’m just…I’m sorry!” The tears began flowing freely despite your efforts to contain them. You felt pathetic for crying, you had nothing to cry about when it was Thomas who had been the victim.

“They were so c-cruel to you-ou,” you hiccuped through sobs, “and I did noth-hing!”

For years you had watched as they had treated him less-than the dirt beneath their feet and you had been too much of a coward to even defend him. To even console him. Having only been a child did little to console you: even at such a young age, you knew what they were doing was wrong and you still chose to turn a blind eye. You were no better than any of the other children who had run away from him or the townspeople who had mistreated him; you knew you deserved whatever punishment they had coming. Had he not only been just a child, as well? How was it fair for him to be treated like a walking-disease, merely for being different, while other children got to live normal lives at no cost at all. It was maddening and the guilt for not having done anything to prevent his abuse or ease it was tearing you apart. 

“Oh Thomas, I’m so sorry! You didn’t deserve-”

The words died in your throat as the sound of settling grass alerted you of his presence. He was kneeling next to you now, holding out an uncertain hand mere centimeters away from your face. His hand was formed as though he was intending to cup your face but wanted permission. His stormy eyes couldn’t keep yours as he shifted his gaze around nervously. How could he be so considerate towards you? He should hate your very being. You wanted to turn your head away from him, you didn't deserve his comfort. He should just leave you to rot! But you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away; choking back a sob, you leaned into his touch–allowing him to bring you solace. He wasted no time in sweeping your guilty tears away with the pad of his thumb and gently massaging at your temple. His tender care only made you want to cry more.

Thomas couldn’t help but admire how bewitching you looked while you cried softly against his hand: wet eyelashes pressed against puffy-flushed cheeks and cherry-red lips turned into a soft pout. And when your eyes opened, to peer into his own–he hated to think it but you truly did look pitiful. Looking up at him like he was the only thing that could soothe your pain. The tight feeling in his chest returned. He didn’t care about the past, or rather he didn’t care about what you didn’t do in the past. He knew what you did do and that was enough for him. Everyone else’s actions had nothing to do with you so how could he fault you, the only person to ever treat him like he was worthy of some human decency? He had grown accustomed to the insults and the physical tormenting stopped when he hit his growth spurt; those that continued to pester him after which were no more significant than gnats buzzing in his ear. Even now when unruly cattle would hurl insults at him, he knew it was all meaningless. At the end of the day they were still just that–cattle. To Thomas, you had done nothing wrong and there was no need for you to apologize–it only crushed him to see you so distraught over something you had no control over.

Overcome with emotion, he leaned closer to you and let out a whine into your hair. 

The unexpected proximity was startling, Thomas had all but engulfed you into himself. Though you didn’t mind. He was warm and smelled of musk and something else you couldn’t quite place–it was almost metallic. The smell was comforting nonetheless. You leaned into him–absent mindlessly closing the small gap in between you–grazing your nose just under where his mask met his skin, trying to figure out what that smell was. The sudden contact must have startled Thomas as you felt him tense around you, but he made no move to remove himself from you.

“Is this ok?” you breathed out, not wanting to take advantage of his goodwill. You could feel the rumble in his throat and his hair tickle your face as he gave a singular-short nod.

With your new allowance, you leaned fully into him: tucking your arms in between you as you grasped at his stained-shirt, burrowing your face against his neck to ride out the remainder of your tears.

“I really am sorry…” you muttered against his skin, you could feel him shiver but you couldn’t bring yourself to move away. He was warm and the skin-contact was soothing. His breathing was heavy and you could feel another rumble pass through his throat as he just barely grazed against the now-dry shirt on your back–giving you time to push him away–before settling against you. You could feel as he moved to lean his own head against yours, his warm breath showered against your ear. You stifled another sob against him with a whine, this awkward side hug was far more than you deserved.

A fire burned in Thomas’s chest as he clutched you closer to himself. In this moment, with this small act, you had proven to him that he was correct: you were different and there was no doubt about it–you being brought back to him was so that he could make you his. And he would be damned if anyone tried to take you away from him. 

The sun felt warm against your skin and the heat that Thomas expelled only heightened it, your earlier swimming and recent crying fit had finally worn you out. Your eyes fought against the pull of sleep, but ultimately the rise and fall of Thomas's chest against you lulled you into the unconscious abyss.

[krysalla]

hide me from the cleaver, i'll hang with you forever! - iv

thomas hewitt x fat f!reader

part one | part two | part three

read on ao3

word count: 5.5k

warnings: 18+ MDNI, kidnapping, restraints, body horror, body image, self harm mention, cannibalism, vomit and piss mention, inaccurate description of butchering probably, mutilation

what's behind the steel door?

There is a door of galvanized steel toward the back of the house. The room it is in is dark and empty. You can hear the door being pulled open and pushed closed on its track in the night, the grind of metal on metal reverberates through the house, all the way up the stairs and through the door of your new bedroom. What follows is the thump of Tommy’s steps as he climbs the stairs and stands outside your door. You hold onto your pillow tighter as you watch his shadows move from the sliver of space between the door and the floor. He opened the door once and you watched each other, you refused to breathe in case it would set him off, until he left, having gotten his fill of you. He has not tried to open the door again but he still comes to you in the night. 

You keep a chair posted beneath the doorknob anyway.

You are not allowed to explore what is beyond the steel door. Luda Mae forbade it. She dragged you by the arm when she caught you trying to follow Tommy down–he’s the only one that goes through that door–and she chastised you for your curiosity and your lack of respect for the house and the rules, which have never been explained to you. She calls you insolent, a troublemaker, barely worth the extra scraps of food at the end of the day. But she sighs and curls a lock of your hair around her finger and tells you how lucky you are that Tommy likes you, wants you to be his girl, and if you want to be his then you have to be good and listen. 

In exchange for this one rule, you have free reign of the house, all other doors are unlocked for you but you have no desire to see what Hoyt keeps in his room nor are you interested in whatever costume jewelry Luda Mae keeps on her vanity. You do not want to see more of the house except for what is forbidden because what is sweeter than that?

You do what you can to ignore the door and push away the need to know. But with your time as unoccupied as it is, that steel door is all you can think of. It itches at the back of your head and grows stronger, nails digging into your flesh the closer you get to it, like you are now.

You stare up at the little peephole in the middle of the door.

As far as you know, nobody is down there. It would be so easy to sneak through the door but the resulting sound of metal scraping would be enough to alert whoever else is in the house to what you’re doing. Would it be so bad?

You reach out to touch the small indentation at the side that your fingers can use to guide it open.

“Whaddya think you’re doin’, girl?”

You jump out of your skin when you hear Monty’s voice and snatch your hand back down to your side and turn to face him. He’s become a bit of an ally, you suppose, a friendly face amongst people who are either too hot or cold to you. Monty never punishes your transgressions against the family or the rules like Hoyt or boss you around and try to control you like Luda. He doesn’t touch you like Tommy does. He’s apathetic to the whole situation but still complicit nonetheless. You think he pities you.

At least he gives you cigarettes.

“Not doing anything, Monty.”

“Best be true.” He makes a face–upper lip curled in disgust and nose wrinkled. “You don’t wanna go down there.”

“Why?”

“Not your place to be askin’.” The dog barks in his lap. Monty makes a small circle in the room to turn out back toward the living room. He waves you over. “C’mon, gonna miss my program.”

-

Escape is far from your reach. Your foot is still tender and healing. Each step is agonizing but you should consider yourself lucky that it is healing at all. You hobble around barefoot all day on floors that you can’t be sure of the last time they were cleaned. Luda Mae took your shoes away from you, hid them somewhere in the house or burned them with your friends’ belongings, to discourage any escape attempts. She cites her poor, lovesick boy whose heart would be broken if you tried to run away from him after all he’s done for you.

There’s worse waiting out there for you than shards of glass. You saw Hoyt pile bear traps and snares into the trunk of the cruiser at the break of dawn, beating out the heat of the day. He made sure you were watching too, looked up at you where you stood at your bedroom window and gave you a shit-eating grin, settling the rifle over his shoulder and canting his hip out.

You think about the way Tommy handled the cleaver and the chainsaw. Would he just take your legs if you tried to run or sever your achilles tendon? Would you be able to feel the cord snap and run up through the back of your calf?

You think you’d rather take the bear traps.

Maybe someone will come knocking on the door, a sheriff with a revolver on his hip, looking for the group of missing friends, and find you and take you back home. Your arrival is long overdue.

Did your mother call the first time you missed a daily call or when you didn’t come home on time?

Time moves funny out here. The days are long and syrupy and the nights too short. Each day is the same, nothing eventful to mark the passage of time. You combed through the house looking for anything to help you–a calendar, a planner, a daybook, anything–but your search was in vain. What reason would they have for keeping time as cut off from society as they are? They don’t even watch the news. They know that the world is falling to shit, so why should they keep tabs on the rest of the world, not when they are fending for themselves out here. They must have been isolated in this ghost town a lot longer than you could imagine to be so unconcerned with others.

You keep track by carving tally marks into your bedpost with a sewing needle. The count is off by a few days. By the time you found the needle, you’d already forgotten how long the Hewitts have had you for. So far, your tally is at twenty. It has been more than twenty days of captivity. 

You lost time on that first day. There’s no way to be sure that was your first day there. For all you know, you had been asleep for a full day before waking up. Your head was throbbing, so whatever happened to you, something or someone hit you. Think… You know the answer, it’s there, scratching at the corners of your mind. An eclipsing shadow, the smell of cured meats and sweat and–

Tommy whistles at you.

And you respond like a dog being called by its owner.

Compliance is rewarded here.

You stand in front of him with your head bowed, limbs loose and pliant. He likes to touch you. If it was anyone else, you would consider it innocent. He only ever runs his hands over your arms, traces the slope of your jaw and neck with the tips of his fingers, pinches the apples of your cheeks, cradles the back of your neck while his thumb rubs circles right below your ear. He never goes further than that. He never crosses the line of groping your chest or your ass, fingers searching out for warmth under your clothes. He treats you gently like you will break or run out the door if he touches you too hard. 

He circles you, examining you with heady eyes, trying to find something on you.

Tommy pinches at the softness of your stomach, ignores your yelp of surprise, and grabs a handful of your flesh through your shirt. You screw your eyes shut. He is touching one of the most intimate parts of your body. Nobody is allowed close enough to touch it, let alone accidentally brush against it. Lovers in the past had tried, brushing their hands over your chest, further and further down until you stopped them and moved them back up. No one touches you there, only you can.

You know what others think of you, how they see you.

What does he think of you?

Why does it matter?

He makes a noise, garbled in his throat. His nails pinch into the soft skin of your stomach and relax before pawing at you again, his free hand joining in to lift and knead and grope. He doesn’t look you in the eye. He’s glued to your stomach. He stops and you’re being tugged by the wrist, pulled along rough enough to feel your arm pop as he brings you along with him, leading you into the kitchen. 

He pulls out a chair at the small table and turns to the fridge. The lock clicks. You are expected to be sitting by the time he turns around and it’s always easier to comply, no matter how much you despise it. He has never used a punishing, bruising force with you, just sharp commands that you have to scramble to understand, using only physical cues, before Tommy loses his patience. You have no doubt that if push comes to shove, no matter how much fondness he has for you, he will use force, beat you like a dog gone bad. 

“What are you doing?” you ask when he sits next to you, chair angled to face you. 

He pulls off a layer of foil from the plate he holds. It’s leftovers from last night. You look around. Is this a trick? Outside of meals together, you are not allowed any food. Luda Mae locked the fridge to make sure of it, not that you were seeking out seconds.

He grabs your stomach again like it will answer your question.

“Stop doing that!” You slap his hands away from you curl in on yourself. With the push of your foot, you get all but two inches away from him before he’s darting toward you and grabs the leg of the chair. He drops the plate of food on the table and drags you back to him, your legs slotted between his. He brings you close enough that the edges of both chairs dig into your calves. Again, his hands are on your stomach, pressing at the fat of your stomach until he hits the firmness of your muscles and organs and can’t push any further.

You look up at the ceiling. There’s a crack running across the plaster in the shape of an L. 

Your kidnapping is made worse by the fact that your captor refuses to speak to you. You cannot understand him. All the usual ways of communication are blocked for you. His mask blocks his expressions and most of the time, his eyes and mouth are hidden away by the shadows created by the mask he wears.

The movement of his hands begins to feel familiar. He takes the bottom of your stomach, that overhanging bit of flesh and pulls in up and presses it into you. Yes, you know that quite well. Hours wasted standing in front of your reflection sucking your stomach in and manipulating your flesh to see what you would look like if you could just lose the weight. Daydreaming about a person who would never be real and when it got bad enough, dreaming of a way to make it possible with a knife from the kitchen counter. It would be so easy but you were never brave enough to take the plunge and you thank your lucky stars for it every day.

The plate of food doesn’t make sense. 

He’s pushing and pushing and–

Oh. 

You wouldn’t have noticed the slight weight loss if it hadn’t been for the only pair of pants that fit your properly began to gap a little more in the back. It’s minor really, no doubt to do with the stress of trying to stay on everyone’s good side so you can live another day, but he noticed.

“You’re worried?” you ask. 

Tommy’s shoulders collapse under the strain of his own stress and he nods eagerly, pleased that you understand him. He leans back and reaches into the plate of meat and potatoes smothered in a brown gravy, a regular meal here, and plucks a cold potato out for you.

“Why?”

He looks at you like it’s the silliest question in the world. His eyes are soft.

You open your mouth wide for him. You smile around the sour, chemical taste the food has absorbed from the fridge. 

He lets out a pleased hum, lips puckering behind his mask. The skin of David’s face around the holes of his eyes and mouth have begun to shrivel and peel back. Tommy has stitched it back together with thick, black thread in places where it’s been torn. You can see his eyes and mouth better than you could that first time. 

What you don’t finish, he wraps back up in tinfoil and takes with him when he goes back through the steel door.

-

Nights are spent together as a family in the sitting room. Luda Mae and Hoyt sit together on the couch, Tommy in an armchair and Monty in the other, leaving no room for you except for on the floor by Tommy’s feet. He gives you a pillow to sit on. He keeps a hand on your shoulder or cups the back of your head, always touching you like he can’t stop. 

Luda Mae watches you close, accusing eyes waiting for some slip up or untoward drifting of finger when he’s touching you. Her gaze is leveled at you and never him. 

He turns on the television. Right in time for the 7 o’clock news. You perk up at Tommy’s feet, watching the anchor introduce his top story of the night. Today is September 27th

It’s been twenty-five days.

Hoyt changes the channel and Jack Lord and James MacArthur take over the screen.

You don’t often address Hoyt unless he speaks to you first. He’s old school, doesn’t believe a woman should talk unless being spoken to, should look pretty and smile, and you’ve come to figure out he punishes you just because he doesn’t see you as a woman. Or maybe he’s pissed that there’s a cunt he can sink himself into regularly but can’t because his nephew’s already got a claim on you. 

Simpering makes his aggression worse. He gets off on it, you think.

“Can you please turn it back?” you ask in a level tone.

He looks so smug, finally sunk his teeth in a prize piece of meat. He spits into an empty beer bottle, the brown sludge of his spit and dip pooling at the bottle. You shift on your knees. He made you drink it once. Plugged your nose up at dinner and held your head back as he poured it down your throat. You looked at him funny was his justification. He laughed and no one did a thing to help you. He sets the bottle down on the ground next to his foot.

“What you wanna watch the news for? Ain’t nothin’ goin’ on that you need to know about.”

You don’t answer him. 

“‘Less you think they gon’ be talkin’ ‘bout you.” He bends over at the waist to encroach upon your space. You have nowhere to go, Tommy’s calf stops you from moving away.

“That’s not–”

“Ain’t nobody out there lookin’ for you.”

That’s not true, it can’t be. You look back to the screen. Five people can’t just vanish into thin air. You have families, friends, people who will miss you. Maybe he’s right, it’s been long enough now, it’s possible you’ve all been entirely forgotten, the news cycle moving on to another tragedy that the world has no lack of. That doesn’t mean your family has stopped. 

You don’t notice the tears at first, not until the fall and soak your shirt. You hurriedly wipe them away before Hoyt can notice. In the reflection, you can see his lips curling. Too late.

“Don’t cry now, girl. Just got to face the facts. You been forgotten. No one is comin’ to save you. We’re your family now.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. No, they aren’t. Your family won't forget you. Your mother waited up for you every night for you to call when you finally reached a motel. That is not the act of someone that would forget.

She must be worried out of her mind. Did she fall asleep curled up on the couch with the phone sitting on the side table and your dog’s head on her lap? How could you do that to her? Has she been able to sleep at all? Have your siblings descended upon her to take care of her or have they forgotten her already, too caught up with their own lives? You hope she’s sleeping. You don’t want her to worry.

God, your father. 

You hope he isn’t angry with you for worrying your mother and him. He’s going to yell at you and there will be nothing you can do but take it because it comes from a good place, the only way he can express the overwhelming amount of dread and relief and worry. If you see him again. His oldest daughter snatched up and left to rot in the Texan sun. He had such high hopes for you. 

A car crash. Smoke plumes climbing high into the sky. Red and blue flashing lights. You could barely stand. He was there. Your father was there and he wasn’t angry, just held you to his chest as the cop took your statement. No, that’s not right. That’s not him and there are no flashing lights and no cop taking your statement, just humiliating you. The chest you are pressed against isn’t your father’s, it’s broader than his. He isn’t furious. He’s holding you protectively, just as your father would, but there’s something possessive in his grip. 

Tommy’s hand flexing over your shoulder shakes you out of the feverish memory.

Hoyt laughs. 

“Leave the girl be, Hoyt,” Monty says between sips of his beer.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Hoyt throws the remote back onto the coffee table and stretches himself out over the couch, smirk playing at his thin lips, and watches his episode of Hawaii Five-O. 

You press your cheek into Tommy’s leg, trying to hide away the shame of crying again. It seems like all you do is cry now. The tears are endless and your well will never run dry, you fear. It’s hard not to cry and anguish over your situation. This was all so preventable. If David had stopped off earlier for gas, you would have breezed through this shithole town and been home by now. None of them would be dead now. You still don’t know what’s happened to Bobby but you’re sure after all this time he’s long gone.

Your tears stain Tommy’s pants but he pays no mind, content to have you curled up around him like you are. You feel his eyes boring into the back of your head and his thumb rubbing what are supposed to be soothing circles into your shoulder blade. You wrap your arm around his calf, your hand resting atop his knee. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to take these scraps of affection and hoard them, take comfort in the way he treats you. You’ve never had someone look after you the way he does. He may not stop the beating Hoyt throws at you but he’s always there to pick up the pieces, to coo and kiss away the marks and has Luda Mae wrap up any cuts or scrapes.

Could you be blamed for seeking comfort where you can?

Yes, you could. 

What would they think of you, your friends’ families? Some no good, cheap slut who would open your legs for anyone that so much as looked your way because what else are you supposed to be other than grateful that someone spared you a second of their time. Better to take what you are given without complaint because that’s all you will ever be worthy of. A slut, a double crossing, backstabbing bitch. Good for nothing, ugly, fat, whore who opens her legs for anyone that shows you an ounce of attention because what else are you good for? You have to take it where you can because no one else will love you.

Your fingers curl into his flesh and your nails catch on the loose threads of his pants. He can see your distress and he swoops in like a turkey vulture, hovering and smelling for the decay in your tissue. Hoyt chuckles when Tommy presses a kiss to the top of your head.

-

You stare at the steel door.

You’ve been watching now, keeping track of the coming and goings of the Hewitts. Your foot is healed now, with or without shoes, you’re getting out of this house. You have an idea of a plan. Monty’s old tow truck still works, the keys are kept in the sun visor. All you need is a quarter tank of gas. Every four or so days, both Luda Mae and Hoyt go out to the dilapidated ruins of Fuller and are gone the entire afternoon. Monty goes out on the porch every day just past noon with that mongrel of his to chain smoke and drink beer. Tommy is unpredictable most days. But even he couldn’t keep up with a truck pushing eighty. You just have to be smart about it which at this moment you are decidedly not. 

Luda Mae and Monty are talking out on the front porch. Only the screen door is closed. Tommy and Hoyt are nowhere to be found but you heard the steel door open and shut followed by the heavy thudding of Tommy’s steps. 

It’s as safe as it will ever be. 

You don’t think you can leave without knowing what’s behind this door.

It opens up easier than you thought it would. It catches on the track but leaves you enough room to squeeze through. 

The steps are steep and in the dim light you lose your footing, you catch yourself before you bust your head and fall all the way down, however far that is.

The smell is worse than anything you have ever experienced before. Heady and oppressive, all consuming. It’s blood and damp, mildew mixed with sulfur. Tommy is always the one to bring Luda Mae packages of meat and not once have seen meat kept in the overcrowded fridge in the kitchen. This must be where it is kept. You try breathing through your mouth in an attempt to filter out the smell, but you can taste the tang on your tongue.

You turn the corner at the bottom of the staircase and find the string pull switch.

Never could you have imagined the carnage you see. 

You break into a cold sweat at the sight of a human body strung up by its ankles, a metal rod threaded between the backs of the feet. The body has been flayed and cleaved in half, gullet to groin, and emptied of its organs, which sit in a bucket right beneath it, along with its head. It’s Anna. Her features are mangled and bloated by decay, but you know it’s her. Her red hair still shines beautifully when the light hits it just so.

Tommy is a butcher. You know that he used to work at the slaughterhouse. He would cut apart cattle five times the weight of an average person. It wouldn’t be so much harder to wrangle a human body up onto the cutting board and cleave them into nice, neat portions of meat, ready to be cooked. 

He’s been feeding you your friends.

Your stomach rolls and empties itself all over your feet. You catch yourself on the edge of a table as your tears begin to start. 

Each morning and night the four of them sat around you at that table and watched you eat the meat, taking without question because that ability was beaten out of you by Hoyt. They must have laughed and jeered secretly. 

You have to get out of here. 

You turn and catch the sight of another person–Bobby–on a work table, except it’s not really Bobby. Almost a month of starvation has changed him inexplicably. His abdomen and cheeks are sunken in, he’s used up all of his fat reserves, and the bones of his hips, his ribcage, his jaw, all of it pokes clean through his thin, dehydrated skin, defined so well. His right arm–what’s left of it–is flayed. Both his legs and his left arm have been amputated, just below the joints at the hip and shoulder, leaving only a small amount of tissue to be wrapped up with butcher paper and secured with twine. 

His right arm is cut just below his elbow. Through the mess of blood on it, you can see that his bicep has been opened up, layers peeled back in some sort of inquisitive exploration. The wound is held open by thick cuts of black thread, the same kind Tommy uses for his mask. You can see right to the bone.

It’s more shocking to find that he’s still alive.

His breathing is shallow, each breath a struggle and a losing fight. Saliva splutters out from his mouth as he exhales and dribbles down the side of his mouth. There will be no way he will live much longer, not with the stench of rot coming off of him in waves. His skin is red and inflamed, with swollen pustules that ooze a yellow-green pus. Infection has set in his wounds. Way out here with no hospitals around and the closest thing to medical attention you can get is Luda Mae’s first aid kit, infection is a death warrant. 

This is not the man you knew.

You back away from the table, unable to look any longer. There’s no use. You know everyone is dead. There was a reason for keeping you from coming down here and you should have listened. Luda Mae doesn’t want you to see Tommy as the beast he is. That small sliver of tenderness he’s shown you means nothing now. 

You hit a wall of flesh.

You hear the angry breathing behind you. Tommy grabs you by the shoulder and spins you around, quickly grabbing your chin to force you to look at him. His eyes are alight with fury.

He is at Bobby’s side in three steps and easily lifts him up by his underarms. Bobby chokes on his spit at the sudden movement. There isn’t enough time for him to even open his eyes before Tommy impales him on a meat hook hanging from the ceiling. The point of the hook goes through his eye and up into his cranium. Tommy makes it look like it is the easiest thing in the world, like it’s just second nature to him.

He turns on you, glaring through the gray leather of David’s skin, and stomps toward you.

Your legs are trembling and sweat is gathering in your hair, dripping down your face and neck. You’ve broken their one rule and you are going to pay the price. Your number is up. If you’re lucky, it will be quick, and you hope that whatever fondness Tommy has for you will save you from Bobby’s fate.

Heat blooms through the crotch of your pants and runs down your legs in rivulets.

His grip is hard. He doesn’t bother trying to lift you, just drags you along the short distance to the work table by your upper arm, and you can’t even fight it. There’s no use in denying your fate or lashing out–Tommy is stronger than you and has complete advantage of the situation. All you can do is cry and shake and hope that your family will be okay without knowing what happened to you. There will be no body, just a pile of bones with no marrow, but even then you’re sure Tommy could find a use for your bones. 

He hauls you up onto the table and arranges your limbs and rearranges them when you work yourself up too hard in a crying fit and squirm across the table. Metal cuffs encircle your wrists and ankles and each stroke of the hammer pushing the nails through the wooden table throws you into hysterics.

You are completely immobilized and at his mercy, muscles pulled taut by the way Tommy arranged you. There is no escape. All that time wasted trying to reveal the secrets behind that fucking door instead of finding a way out. You could have lived. You could have gone back home and been in your bed right now.

What you wouldn’t give right now to be held by your mother and have your father call you baby one more time. Isn’t this what everyone wants in their final hours–the comfort of their parents?

You can see only the fuzzy outline of him against your tears. The fluorescent lights halo him like an angel. You hate him. This angel of death wearing your friend’s face and holding the blade in a fidgeting hand. The blade of the knife glints in the light. He is going to leave you strung up on a hook and butcher you when he gets hungry enough to put in the work to cut you into bite sized pieces, he will eat you with fervor because this is what he likes and what he does best. All he has to do is cut deep enough into your thigh and it will be over. 

The sharp split of skin and hot gush of blood never comes.

He turns your head to the side to face Anna’s mutilated corpse and pushes your cheek into the table. The message is clear; do not look away, know that if you break the rules or try to leave, this is what will happen to you, there is nothing that will save you. If you are too unruly or too much work, you will be next on the serving platter. He is reasserting the pecking order. This is your one and only chance.

Tommy pulls one half of her off the gambrel and throws her onto a smaller workbench. He is quick in his work and brings his cleaver down with expertise, guides the small carving knife around the ball joint of her humorous and her femur, separating her into three neat sections. He strips her clean of the membrane that covers her bones and muscle and pulls the yellow fleshy bits of her tendons out, cleans the cuts of meat from any bone fragments. He breaks her apart efficiently. You wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between her and pieces of beef.

In no time he’s pulling her other half free and breaking her body down in the same steady handed, practiced manner.

The idea of hell has rarely occupied your thoughts. You know the classic version of fire and brimstone, endless torture against the damned souls, never a reprieve as they burn for their trespasses against God. You know better than that. Hell is here where human life has no meaning besides what meat they can provide and no one has ever escaped from hell or else you wouldn’t be here.

Even if you were to escape, you will never truly leave this place.

He hides you from the cleaver once more, even though it would be easier and safer to do away with you like he did your friends. You are a liability to him and his family. He must be confident in the fact that you won’t try to run after this display and he’d be right. You don’t want to disappear off the face of the Earth like that. You don’t want to be eaten.

When Tommy finishes wrapping up Anna in neat little portions and cleaning his workspace, he breezes past you as if you don’t exist. He knocks his shoulder into Bobby’s corpse and it swings back and forth on the hook. He’s closing up shop.

“Wait, Tommy. Please, let me go. I'll do anything! I’ll be good. I can be good. Don’t leave me down here.” You try to move against your restraints–it only ends in your muscles drawing tight and uncomfortable.

He doesn’t spare you a glance as he shuts off the lights and heads up the stairs.

[whatyadrawin]

The Fruit After The Flesh 18+ -Chapter 14

Minors DNI!

Masterlist

Approximately 4,989 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt (Headcanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings:  Sexual language and depiction of sexual acts, foul language, brief PTSD scene, mention of reproductive choices. This is Slasher smut, be mindful of that and use your discretion.

A/n: See the end of chapter for a special authors note since I dont want to spoil anything here. I feel pretty good about this chapter, the art has some sloppy work because I was passing out while working on them so please be nice, I hope theres no typos or weirdness in the edited writing either because I was also passing out for that. The censored image can be viewed raw on my google doc (By clicking that link you are consenting to seeing graphic adult imagery and you are over 18). Let me know if you want to be in the tag list. I update chapter progress on the masterlist whenever something changes.

Please enjoy this chapter! I worked very hard on it so reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated very much.

Tag List: @fan-goddess , @artxasa , @baybaybear1 , @amour-tae , @dij-ology , @jillian-mill

Chapter 14

                The day started with you getting a phone call from the contractor, he informed you that your house was fully repaired and ready to move back into; You immediately got changed and walked over, highly excited to see the finished work. You arrived quickly, opening the heavy wooden door where the smell of fresh paint and new wood filled your lungs. The sun’s rays lit up the rooms giving the home a cheery appearance, as if it was happy to see you.

You slowly made your way through the entrance to head straight for your room, when you passed through the doorway you felt a knot form in your stomach, the memory of the fire was making you feel fear as if you were experiencing it all over again. You let the anxiety hit you to really feel the emotions fully, you figured if you could handle the ghost of the past then you could strive to overcome it.

Within a few short moments, the feeling passed but the cortisol surge remained. You left the bedroom and sat on the couch in the living room exhaling deeply as you reclined. You looked out at the large storage container that you had yet to completely empty, it was costing you to keep it on the property and felt like a constant reminder of how new you still were to this country.

The entire day was spent emptying out the storage crate to fill up your home. Extra clothes and furniture found their place in every corner of the house, by nightfall you managed to get your bedroom and bathroom to look mostly normal again. The fire destroyed your bed and stained the wardrobes with soot, some floor lamps were melted and unusable as well as your window curtains.

-Looks like I need to buy a new bed and some furniture- You thought about how nice you could make your room, and what curtains to buy to cover the bedroom window with. -I think it might be good to invest in some security features too while I’m at it- Dover’s attack on you affected the way you felt when you were alone, it was now pertinent to have visibility from many angles and access to view them at any time in case someone tried to hurt you while you were unaware again.

After ruminating on your fears, you locked up and left the house, the moon was now high in the sky and you realized you hadn’t eaten all day. When you left and got to the end of your driveway, you saw headlights shining up the road heading in the direction of the Hewitts house. The driver gave a honk and when you squinted to look, you recognized the truck, it was Charlie.

He pulled up next to you and reached over to unlock the passenger door,

“Get in ‘fore you get ate by a coyote” he said through the open window.

You smile and hop into the passenger’s side of the truck; the seat is rough edged from wear and scrapes the exposed skin on your leg as you slide onto it. You shut the door and thank him for picking you up,

“Are there really coyotes around here?” You asked

He smirks, “Well now, ain’t a whole lot of wildlife really comin’ ‘round here no more.”

You wrinkle your brows, “Must be lucky then eh?”

He chuckles and raises his eyebrows, “Somethin’ like that”

You roll your eyes and give a tight-lipped smirk, you knew it wasn’t luck, if anything it was a whole lot of bad luck that accumulated on this land brought onto poor hapless victims taken from the outside world just to feed the starving Hewitts. This land really was a world of its own, it felt like you were existing in another universe, the remoteness didn’t help much with that either.

“What’s ‘at look for?” he was obviously trying to sleuth out your expression.

Your eyes widen and you quickly face the open window to prevent further incriminating looks,

“Nothing” you hope he would drop it, but he continues,

“You’re bein’ real suspicious ain’t ya? Somethin’ I should know ‘bout?”

You reply with a hint of annoyance in your voice,

“Oh my Goduh, nothiiiiiiiiing” -that should throw him off-.

Charlie laughs and changes the subject,

“You gon’ move back into Tilly’s house now that it’s fixed up?”

You continue to look out the window,

“Yeah, I have been bothering you guys long enough.”

He quickly replies, “You was never no bother girly, I know Luda Mae’s gon’ be real upset seein’ you less. She sure hates an empty nest.”

You didn’t think it would be that much of an impact, you felt like a total leech living there for as long as you did,

“I’m sure she will be relieved having less cooking and housework to do…she never let me help.”

Charlie laughs, “That woman? She’s been feelin’ like a mother again what with doin’ all the women’s work. Was always her happiest when she was carin’ for the boy. Obsessed with motherhood, guess it’s normal for womenfolk to think like that.”

You roll your eyes, you had become used to the way Charlie spoke about women in the time you lived with him, but it was still obnoxious to hear such outdated ideals in modern day.

Charlie puts his arm up on the bench seat, he gives you an inquisitive look, he asks,

“You think like her at all?”

You sigh, “Isn’t that a bit personal?”

He sucks his teeth and looks at the road, he continues,

“Shoot girly, it’s just a question.”

You remain quiet for a few seconds before responding, “No… it’s never really been a goal for me.”

“Huh.”

You replied, already feeling defensive, “What?”

“Just never encountered a ‘no’ from a woman regardin’ kids is all.”

Instinctively, you began preparing to hear the usual patriarchal bullshit thrown at women who choose a different reproductive path. You prepare the counter arguments in your head, you cross your arms and say,

“Ok, lay it out then, tell me how I’m going to change my mind someday or whatever. Let’s get it over with”

Charlie lets out a confused grunt, he turns to you laughing,

“Sweetheart, I couldn’t give two shits ‘bout you not wantin’ to get knocked up. Only reason I bring it up is ‘cus I heard some foolin’ around in the basement the other day.”

Your eyes widen and you tense up with embarrassment, he laughs again,

“Now don’t get yourself all twisted up ‘bout it, s’about time that boy got some tail.”

Your muscles relax a bit, you couldn’t help but blush at your seemingly private exploration being heard. He continues,

“If you n’ the boy are gettin’ that serious, I feel I need to warn you that he’s got no bullet with the blast”

Your nerves wanted out of this conversation, but your curiosity made you dig for information,

“How would you know something like that?”

“Tommy ain’t our blood, Luda Mae found him in a dumpster behind the meat packin’ shop she worked at back in the day. Was a large thing, that boy, t’was clear the momma didn’t want nothin’ to do with him so she tossed him like trash. He was uglier ‘n hell as a baby, not much different than now.” He laughs. “But he ain’t right, somethin’ in his dang blood made him grow into such a fuckin’ beast, made him stronger than any man I ever knew.”

The road was coming up on the house now, you wanted to know more, so you turned to fully face Charlie and asked,

“Being big and strong doesn’t make someone infertile…”

Charlie smirked as he parked the truck near the wheat field and shut off the engine, he leaned his head at an angle to look at you without turning his body,

“Girly, you remember we told you ‘bout the infection fuckin’ up his face?” You nod,

He continues, “He was in the hospital a few weeks getting’ medicine. If he was a normal kid he woulda died. The doctor told us he had some, uh… dang what’d he say now?” Charlie ran his hand through his hair as he thought, “I dunno what it was, somethin’ ‘bout his blood bein’ shitted up n’ to not expect any grandkids, specially with all the drugs they dun gave him. Luda Mae was real upset; I didn’t give no fucks long as he’d help ‘round the farm, and boy did he get useful.”

He got out of the truck and started walking to the house, you sat there mulling over the information you were given. -If he is infertile… No need for protection I guess- The thought of finally being able to safelyhave raw unprotected sex made you hot with lustful fantasies, sex was hard to fully enjoy when you always had the underlying fear of pregnancy looming over you.

You entered the house and made your way to the kitchen where you saw Luda Mae in a nightgown pouring from a teapot. She turned and saw you, a smile immediately formed on her lips,

“You been away all day dear, did you eat anything?”

You shake your head and walk closer to her, she continues,

“Just as I thought. I saved you some dinner in the fridge there, you can heat it up in the oven which is already preheated for you.”

She sets down the teapot and says,

“Did you get a lot done dear?”

You open the fridge and find a large plate filled with comfort food, you respond,

“Thanks for saving me dinner, you didn’t have to.” She smiles at you, and you continue,

“I got a ton of things done, I’ll be out of your hair once my bed arrives”

Luda Mae’s smile sank, you could tell she didn’t want to hear you were leaving. She saw you looking at her expression and quickly changed it back to a smile, saying,

“Well, that’s good for you dear, but don’t go feelin’ like you have to leave right away now. Take as much time as you need.”

You feel her hand gently placed on your upper back, she gives you some comforting rubs and you tell her,

“Don’t worry, I’m going to be over a lot. It’s just that the orchard needs someone there to care for it, and it’s a big job.”

She nods, understanding the need to get back to normal,

“Alright hun, you eat whatever you like and get some tea from the pot there. I’m headin’ to bed now but if you need anything, just knock on my door.”

You thank her again and she walks up the stairs. You see Charlie come in after her, he went straight for the bread buns in the basket on the counter.

“You headin’ to bed girly?”

You shake your head, he stuffs the bun in his mouth and begins to leave,

“thya ‘omarro” His words were muffled by the food he was chewing, you wished him a good night and listened to him walk up the stairs to his room, his footsteps thudding more quietly with each step.

You put the plate in the oven and let out a big sigh as you sat in the chair, you weren’t tired despite being busy all day. The thoughts of Tommy unloading his orgasms into you were energizing, you sat there feeling the ache between your legs gain intensity. -he must have gone to sleep by now, I better get changed out of these sweaty clothes-

You made your way to the bedroom and threw off your shirt and shorts, you took off your bra and exhaled in relief letting your breasts experience natural gravity again. You picked out a purple oversized T shirt that reached your knees, you felt immediately comfortable and paused before you left the room. -Might be fun to feel a little breeze as I eat dinner, everyone went to bed anyway- you quickly slipped your underwear off and tossed it near your bed, you blushed as you made your way to the kitchen giggling to yourself about the bold idea.

You step back into the kitchen and turn off the oven, you leave the plate in there to soak up the last bits of heat so it doesn’t have any cool pockets to ruin the meal. You turn and open the side door that leads to the porch, your bare feet touching the smooth wood floor. The moon was bright and lit up the land, you looked out at your home up on the hill, it was a barely visible white blob sitting lonely on the hilltop watching over the orchard.

You wondered what this town was like when it was busy, there weren’t many buildings around that you saw when you reached the gas station, but you also never drove up the road past the Hewitt house; as far as you knew, there was just tall grass and an evil man’s hiding hole.

The night air was refreshingly cool, it brushed under your shirt and tickled your naked body which felt invigorating. Back home it was rare if the nights were warm enough to stand outside half dressed, but you also didn’t have a large private porch to lounge in either.

Suddenly, a glow of warm yellow string lights lit up from the roof of the porch illuminating a large man standing in the doorway. It was Tommy, he bent down to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe and closed the door behind him. You were shocked to see him, and were now very aware of the fact that you were completely nude under this shirt, you almost missed the fact that he was shirtless.

You pull down your shirt to ensure it isn’t somehow lifting up and making your lower region visible,

“I thought you were asleep?” you ask

“Heard y’come in, wanted t’check up on ya” he spoke softly.

He moved next to you, putting his massive arms on the railing and leaning forward to look at the land. You felt nervous being so close to him with your secret hiding under the thin fabric of your shirt. -Why am I nervous? I was in a pond with him naked for gods sake!- Despite your previous escapades you still felt giddy at the thought of him discovering your hidden nudity.

You try to divert your nerves with conversation,

“Thanks for teaching me how to defend myself, it feels better knowing I might stand a chance now.”

He nods at you and smiles with his eyes, his dark mask hiding his damaged skin, you noticed his pushed back hair was wet and when he moved closer you could smell the fresh scent of a masculine scented soap, it was intoxicating. You shake your head a little to snap yourself out of it,

“S-so were you going to stay up here a while? I need to get my dinner out of the oven if you want to hang out as I eat.”

You quickly make your way to the kitchen hoping to escape his alluring scent, it was flooding your mind with wicked thoughts about his arms squeezing around you like a python while he fucked you. -god damn, why does he have to smell so good, and look so good, and be so fucking massive and hot!- You argued with your thoughts, you wouldn’t be able to try playing with him while Luda-Mae and Charlie were just one floor away, too risky, but you didn’t want to be obvious by pulling him downstairs.

You were wise to his antics, and you remember when he said “I’m gon’ start messin’ with y’now”he made sure you understood he was going to torture you with desire. He followed you into the kitchen barely being able to pass through the doorframe, you try to ignore him, you were onto him and wanted to see what he would attempt.

“I’ll get that for ya” he reached down into the oven without oven mitts and grabbed the plate without flinching, he sets it down on the table in front of you then reaches to get you a fork.

You touch the plate and it stings with heat,

“How didn’t that burn you?”

He shrugs, “Thick skin I guess”

He takes a seat next to you and hands over the fork, you thank him and begin to eat. He leans back in the chair and relaxes as he watches you, he then asks,

“That house o’ yers is done huh”

You nod, eating hastily not realizing how hungry you were. He continues,

“Y’gon’ move on out then?” His voice was vibrating the plate on the table from the low timbre.

You swallow the large ball of food in your mouth and reply,

“The orchard hasn’t been properly tended to in a while, I have to keep those trees alive and… Tilly made it a clause in her will.”

He crosses his arms and nods, leaning back and looking away,

“Won’t see much of ya ‘round then I s’pose”

You put the fork down and sit back, a serious look on your face, he looks over at you and notices the shift,

“What’s amatter?” he asks.

You look him in the eyes, “I wanted to run something by you actually”

He shifts in his seat and places one arm on his thigh and the other on the table while his torso was turned to face you,

“Y’can ask me whatever y’want”

A tiny smile hits your lips from his words,

“Well, Dover didn’t really teach me about caring for the trees. I figure I can read up on it and do my best to learn everything I can but…” You paused, you clenched the edge of your t-shirt bottom before finding the courage to push out the question, “I want to know if you knew anything about caring for orchards, and maybe, if you did… you could teach me the basics until I can do it myself”

Tommy was quiet, he put his hand to his chin and was deep in thought, you got nervous and added,

“Y-you can say no its ok, I know it’s a big ask since you already do so much around here, I just thought it would be nice to… spend more time together is all.”

He leaned back in the chair, it creaked under his weight,

“I’ll help ya. I dunno a whole lot ‘bout orchards but, I helped Tilly when she needed it, she taught me a thing or two”

You smile, “I’m really glad”

You got up to put the leftovers away, Tommy followed and stood up to open the fridge door from behind you as you placed the food back inside.

When he shut the fridge door, he kept is arms around you fencing you in. You spun around to look at him, he was towering over you, his steely blue eyes gazed at you through heavy lids. He moved his hand to gently caress your neck and trailed it under your jaw, lifting your face to look in his eyes.

“Y’don’t need no excuse to get me alone” his voice was smooth and enshrouded your mind making you feel a wave of arousal flood your body.

“Oh Yeah?” you speak in a breathy whisper.

He nods slowly, you touch the thick leather of his mask and say,

“What do I need to do to see your handsome face then?”

He hangs his head down and laughs, he lifts his head and brings it close to your face,

“Go ‘head then”

You excitedly remove the mask revealing his gnarled old wound that exposed his teeth through his cheek, the more you got to see his real face the harder you fell for him.

“Still likin’ what y’see?” he asks.

You smile and lift yourself up to his face, you look into his eyes and slowly move in to kiss his lips. He lets out a muffled hum as he kisses you back, you press in harder and lift your hands to cup his face, his stubbles was shaved off to a clean finish. You forgot how wonderful his lips felt, the kiss quickly became heated with passion, both of you began to breathe more hastily.

Tommy put his hands on the sides on your body, slowly moving them downwards until he reached where he wanted to. He wrapped his hands around your thighs and lifted you up onto his chest so your face was the same level as his, you stifled an excited squeal when your body lifted into the air so effortlessly.

He smiled and kept you in his arms while kissing you, you threw your arms around his neck to keep your body leaned forward past his bulky pecs to reach his face. You felt his hands move inwards towards your weepy slit. He was trying to get a more stable grip so you could sit comfortably, but when his fingers discovered no underwear, he stopped kissing you and gave you a devilish grin,

“What we got here?” he spoke through a chuckle

You blushed and bit your lip remaining quiet, unsure of what to say,

He kept tickling your labia with gentle flicks of his fingers, your breathing hastened and you suppressed a moan with your hand over your mouth,

“Bad girl, y’need to go to yer room huh”

You nod, “Put me there”

 He moves his mouth close to yours, but when you lean in for a kiss, he slowly pulls away grinning. He carries you through the porch door, entering sideways and leaning down to avoid hitting his head. He stops when he reaches the double door leading to your room, he turns around and places you on the railing of the porch which is wide enough for you to sit comfortably.

“Why did you set me here?” you ask.

“I aint givin’ in so easily” he grumbles through a smirk

“…do you want me to beg or something?” you laugh.

He gives you a smug look, “Maybe”

“Oh please, I can keep myself under control. No amount of flirting would make me want to be-“

He cuts you off by gripping your hips and pulling your body close to the edge of the railing top so you were flush against his warm torso. You huff defiantly until he presses his erection onto your cunt, your abundant juices coated the fabric of his sweat pants. You let out an unexpected moan and quickly cover your mouth to quiet it.

Tommy slowly rubs his stiff cock up and down the length of your lips, pressing in when his head met your hole just to tease you. He was grinning watching you hold your hand to your mouth as you hushed your whines. You so badly wanted to feel the skin of his dick move inside you, the cloth barrier was unbearable. He was enjoying the antagonization, his grip on your hips was firm you wouldn’t be able to escape even if you wanted to, he just kept pulling you closer to him until you gave in and said,

“Please, I want it” your words were like a song to him.

“Well, since y’asked nicely” he growled.

He threw you over his shoulder, making you giggle, and entered your room through the porch entrance closing the doors behind him as swiftly as he entered. He gently laid you on the bed gazing down at you while you writhed with arousal, you hesitantly spread your legs and lifted your shirt to reveal your lower half. Tommy got on the bed, it made a creaking groan under his massive weight. He leaned over you and placed one of his hands down between your folds caressing your entrance, you breathed in sharply and spread your legs further to let him have more access.

Tommy ran his fingers over your tender skin, his digits getting slick with wet the more he rubbed. You put your arms around his neck and pulled his face onto yours and kissed him, he moaned into your mouth and slipped his middle finger into your hole,

“Oh fuck” you whispered

His finger was almost as thick as an average man’s penis, and just as long. He slowly moved in and out of you, the calloused skin scratched your walls and bumped your g-spot sending your nerves into overdrive with pleasure, he feels your walls clench down on his finger,

“Y’got such a tiny lil hole” he says gruffly.

“Yeah? Why don’t you fuck it then” you command.

He pulls his finger out and runs his hand up your shirt skimming along your sensitive skin as he moves, he finds your breast and starts massaging the nipple making you moan with the electrical impulses that tickle your nerves.

“Y’want me bad huh” his tone was mocking.

You reply in a breathy tone “Please, fuck me”

Tommy pinches your nipple before he leans back and pulls his massive cock out from under his sweatpants, his erection was so full that he whined as he held it. Seeing his massive length was sending you over the edge with desperation. Tommy lowered himself down so his shaft lay on your clit, his dick was heavy and warm, the feeling of it on your swollen nub was making you feel drunk with desire.

He rubbed his length up and down your wet folds at an agonizingly slow pace, your wetness coating all along his cock making it glisten in the light of the moon. You tried to wrap your legs around his hips to pull him in but he quickly grabbed them with ease and pushed them all the way back so your knees were touching the sides of your chest.

You were so sexually frustrated with having him tease your greedy hole, you tried to raise your hips to entice him to slip inside but he remained steady.

Tommy saw how badly you wanted him to fuck you, he loved watching how your body beckoned him to enter it. He decided to have mercy on you and pressed his thick head on your hole, allowing you to slowly adjust to the width. He let out heavy sighs as your pussy began to slowly swallow his tip, the soft velvety feel of your lips made him moan deeply. The stretch of his girth sent waves of pleasure through your core and the vibration of his deep voice made it seem like you were mating with a beast.

You managed to slip halfway down his head before he couldn’t take much more and he began to slowly move his tip in and out. He was groaning, trying to control himself but your slicked entrance was beginning to bring out something feral from deep within him, he kept trying to slide more of himself inside but you weren’t opening up fast enough to allow him full entry.

You grab onto his wrists and dig your nails in, he was so wide that your poor little cunt couldn’t adjust fast enough to meet his lulling thrusts. You could feel a sting of pain with each movement as his width increased, the pleasure was overpowering the sting and you didn’t want him to stop. It felt like an impossible task to get even just the rest of his head inside, but you wanted so desperately to be penetrated by him, so you focused on relaxing your muscles to grant him deeper access.

He was quickly losing control over his movements and felt your vaginal walls loosening up, he fought the urge to just aggressively push in deep to get past the last hurdle. He was high on the feeling of your insides, his mind felt light and dreamy, as if his brain was swimming. He kept pressing in further with each forward motion until all of his head was finally inside you, he pulled out further before each hungry thrust to coat himself in more of your dripping sweetness.

“I want the whole thing, give it to me Tommy, I need it” you pleaded.

Tommy needed to get hold of his mind that was beginning to slip away, he had a strong carnal desire to just plow into you but he instead forced himself to remain still. You look up at him wondering why he stopped moving, your vaginal walls still pulsating around his tip from the incredible sensations it brought. He gives you a crooked grin and gently pulls out of you, then stands up off the bed and hastily puts his pants over his erection.

“What! Why?” you asked furiously

He laughs, “That’s payback, my angel”

Tommy walks out of your room and leaves you there a dripping, horny mess; You chuckled to yourself and flopped onto your stomach and yelled into your pillow. You now wanted to get past this cheeky stage and just start fucking like rabbits but you knew he was going to continue this provocatory teasing. It was time to pull out all your tricks and make it so unbearable for him to resist that he will give up messing around and give into his temptations.

Tommy got back into his room in the basement, his mask back on his face where it belonged. He was still fully engorged and now feeling pain from the intense pressure, he needed a release badly, but he also wanted to start practicing control over his desires. He was worried, he felt so close to just letting go and fucking you silly, he wanted to be fully present and aware if your needs when you two finally, properly, lay together.

He flopped on his bed and sighed; he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up for. The next time, he may not be able to pull away so easily.

Special authors note: I wanted to stray from the norm of Thomas constantly being portrayed as having a breeding kink (it can be hot don't get me wrong) because I know there are a lot of women who don't want to read breeding/pregnancy kink for various valid reasons and its fairly hard to find AFAB x Tommy smut where he isn't depicted in such a way. If you were expecting that, I apologize for disappointing you but I try to cater to the people who don't often get catered to because inclusivity is important to me when making adult content. So from here on out, the rest of the chapters in this series will be for the gals who don't want to think of that stuff when reading smut. Thank you for taking the time to read my fic, likes, reblogs, and comments are extremely appreciated.

-Next chapter

[kisskiss-slashslash]

If it is okie, can I request for either Bubba Sawyer or Thomas Hewitt with a chubby insecure afab reader? Either sweet fluff or maybe some soft smut? Whatever be more comfy. (A pudgy gal myself, and these two bring so much comfort) thank you 😳

Thomas Hewitt and Bubba Sawyer with an insecure, chubby s/o

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba notices that you tend to wear clothes that are not exactly fitting for Texas’ hot climate, and gets extremely concerned about you possibly overheating. So one day, when you come inside from doing some gardening, he shoves a short sleeved sundress from his own collection into your hands and ushers you into your shared room to change. When you don’t emerge for too long, he checks on you and finds you idling in front of the mirror, holding the dress in front of yourself and frowning.

“I… I don’t think I’d look good in this, Bubba”, you tell him after a moment of silence.

He pushes his hands into his hips, a silent image of insistence. Knowing Bubba, he won’t leave it alone until you at least tried it on, so you relent.

Once you have changed out of your sweaty and way too warm work clothes and into the sundress, Bubba cups his face and smiles so widely that it warps his leather mask. Then he walks up to you, takes your hand and makes you twirl until the skirt flies.

“Bubba, wait, I’m getting dizzy”, you say, but your laughter takes any kind of force from the complaint. In the end, you topple against him in a fit of giggles, and Bubba holds you up.

You sigh, once you’ve calmed down. “Okay, fine. I gotta admit it. I look pretty damn cute in this.”

He nods eagerly, glad that you finally got it.

Thomas Hewitt

Living in the same household as Hoyt probably isn’t helping with your insecurity. But luckily, you have a very loving and very protective husband and mother in law by your side.

“Maybe we should eat you next”, Hoyt tells you with waggling eyebrows. “You’d be enough to-” A large, meaty hand comes down against the back of his head, not hard enough to do actual damage, but definitely enough to hurt.

“What the fuck, Tommy?!”, he yells, to which Thomas responds with a glare.

Luda Mae comes stomping out of the neighboring room. “What did I tell you about cursing in this house?!”

“But Ma-”, Hoyt interjects like a petulant child.

“No ‘But’! And I told you a million times to keep those jokes to yourself! I don’t want that kind of bickering here!” And with that, she stomps off again.

Hoyt glares at both Thomas and you, grumbles something you don’t quite catch and returns to reading the newspaper.

The same large hand that just whacked him over the head now warms your back, and Thomas gently guides you out of the den and down to the cellar, where he spends the majority of the day, and occasionally grants you an escape from Hoyt’s… everything.

He rubs small circles on the small of your back to soothe you.

“I’m fine, Tommy”, you reassure him. He still turns you around so you’re facing him, and cups your hips with his hands, lightly squeezing the soft, warm flesh. A smile lights up his usually so serious face.

[milkteahood]

unmasked

Thomas Hewitt x fem!reader

Warning: smut! minors dni!!!

Summary: more smut. But with a plot. This wasn't supposed to be a smut, but of course it is. Because that's just how I am as a person.

Living with the Hewitt family wasn’t always easy, but it sure had its nice parts, and the nicest part was Thomas. Oh yes, the reason you were still alive today was simply being a decent person to Thomas. Which slowly progressed to more, finding yourself in this limbo of having a huge crush on him, while he was still keeping you at arm’s length.

It was very strange to fall in love with a man whose face you never saw. Yet here you were, catching yourself staring at him again. Even though he warmed up to you, Thomas was still caught off guard whenever he saw you staring, so you tried to do your best to avoid him seeing you. That of course didn’t always work and today was one of those days.

A couple of seconds passed before you realized he was looking back at you.

“O-oh! Sorry” you said, smiling at him.

He’s been around you long enough to know you weren’t being malicious, but he still didn’t know what to make of it, so he just nodded and turned back to what he was doing.

You mentally cursed yourself for making him feel awkward, not that you could’ve helped it. Your heart ached whenever he walked into the room, yet the fear of being rejected was enough to put you back in place.

I can’t just keep living like this you thought to yourself once you resumed to cleaning the potatoes Luda Mae told you to.

Be thankful you’re even alive.

***

At supper you tried your best to keep your eyes off of Thomas, only making small conversation here and there. He would listen, and nod, occasionally tilting his head to the side. Each time, making your heart skip a beat and your cheeks turn red. You blamed it on the weather and the soup.

After supper, you helped Luda Mae with cleaning the table.

“You know sweetheart, my Tommy might be naive, but I am not” she said.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to play dumb.

“Oh hush girl. I can see how red you get when you look at my Tommy. And I can tell he feels a certain way about you too”

You were so thankful she was old, because otherwise it would’ve been impossible not to hear your heart beat out of your chest.

“Just don’t break his heart”

“No. Never!” you protested before you realized what you just admitted to.

Luda Mae just smiled at you “you’re a very sweet girl. Go on now. I will finish here”.

And with that, you were rushing out to see what Thomas was up to.

You found him sitting on the staircase in front of the house.

“Hey Thomas!” you said, sitting down next to him.

He nodded to you, eyes softening at your sight.

“Did you have a good day?” you asked, earning yourself another nod. Thomas didn’t talk, but you did not mind. You’ve been around long enough to understand him.

“I can tell he feels a certain way about you too”. Luda Mae’s words echoed in your head, making you blush. Thomas tilted his head and pointed at your now very flushed cheek.

“I’m ok!” you tried to keep your cool “it’s just really hot still outside” you continued smiling. He seemed to take that.

“And since it’s so hot… say Thomas. Would you want to go hang out by the pond? I’m done with my chores”.

He just smiled at you from behind his mask and nodded his head.

***

“Oh come on Tommy! The water is amazing” you said, dress all wet because you didn’t care to take anything off.

Thomas tried to avoid your gaze, simply because his mama raised him better, and your dress became pretty see-through.

“Tommy? Are you alright?” you started to approach him.

Thomas lifted his hand, pointing at your dress. It took you a little to realize what he was trying to say, but once you looked down, a blush crept on your face. “Oh goodness”.

After he sighed, he took off his apron and handed it to you. You were swimming in it, and it was enough to cover yourself.

You knew Thomas wasn’t going to swim, he always preferred to hang out at the shore.

“It’s fine now Thomas” you chucked when he finally turned to face you. Both of you lay down on the grass, with you turning towards him. He was looking up at the sky, not seeming to notice you were looking at him.

“This is nice”

He glanced at you and grunted. This one meant yes.

“Isn’t it hard to always wear that mask Tommy? It’s so hot today”

He didn’t answer. But you could see him clenching his fists.

“I-I mean”

He turned his head to you, frowning.

“Sorry” you said and turned on your back. He turned away from you too.

“I just” just shut up. Don’t say it. Just don’t.

You looked at him. He was looking away.

With a sigh you decided that now was the moment.

“Whatever’s underneath that mask… it won’t change how I feel about you” you almost whispered the last part, but it was enough for him to hear.

Thomas turned his head towards you, eyes widen, looking confused and a little scared.

You just smiled and placed your hand over his. He tensed, but not for long.

“Even mama noticed” you said with a chuckle.

He looked at you for a while, and you were staring to get worried that you said something wrong, until he stood up, just enough to undo his leather mask. Yet he didn’t take it off, and he was no longer looking at you.

“Tommy?”

He didn’t respond, and while he was holding his mask up with one hand and his other was clenched in a fist, you were worried you might’ve upset him by pushing him into this.

“Thomas. It’s alright” you said, taking his hand in both yours “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to”.

When his eyes finally met yours, you could clearly see the pain in them, and something else. You could see a little bit of hope.

He sighed and finally let go of his mask. He was looking down, completely avoiding your gaze. You could swear his eyes almost popped out of his head when you cupped his face, got on his lap, smiled and called him handsome. His whole body tensed up at your words, almost not wanting to believe you.

“You’re so beautiful Thomas Hewitt” you repeated yourself, this time with an even bigger smile.

Meanwhile, Thomas was completely frozen. Were you making fun of him? But you looked so genuine. How could you be? Did it really matter? No. Not when your touch was so soft and you were smiling at him like that.

He finally snapped out of his trance when you kissed him.

He didn’t know what to do, but it didn’t take long for him to start kissing you back. It was inexperienced and needy and full of buildup emotions on both sides. His hands shyly rested on your waist, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, hands tugging at his hair as the kiss got more and more intense.

He started feeling your back up and down, while you pressed against him harder, earning yourself a moan when you brushed yourself against the bulge in his pants.

Both of you pulled away and just looked at the other for a while. Then, with a confidence you didn’t think you’d see with him, he pulled you into another kiss, holding the back of your head.

He worked on your clothes while you worked on his, neither wanting to break the kiss more than you needed to.

He then flipped you over and once he was on top, he stopped again, just looking and admiring you. Your hands exploded his chest while you kissed his neck, turning him into a moaning mess. He was intoxicated by your every touch.

Feeling his erection against your inner thigh made you moan.

“You can do whatever you want to me Tommy” you said while wrapping your arms around his neck.

He just whimpered, nuzzling your neck.

“It’s alright Thomas, I want you” you said gently stroking his hair.

He nodded against your neck before kissing you again.

You helped him adjust himself and before you knew it, he was sliding inside, both of you moaning into the other’s mouth.

The pace started slow, Thomas was holding your waist with one hand and using the other to support himself.

“Oh fuck… just like that” you moaned, nails digging into his back now.

The more you moaned, the more he slammed harder and faster into you. His face was buried in your hair, taking in your scent which was slowly driving him off the edge.

He was hitting all the right places, slamming into you so hard you knew you would have trouble walking afterward.

You knew he was getting closer because his pace became more and more erratic.

“Oh fuck Tommy, cum with me, please please cum with me”.

That was enough to drive him over the edge and with a few more deep thrusts he came, making your eyes roll back while you chased your own high.

Both of you stayed like that for a while, neither wanting to move. Thomas made sure not to let his entire weight over you, while you ran your fingers through his hair and planted kisses on his forehead.

“I love you Tommy”.

His eyes widened, and he looked like he just saw a ghost. The sight was endearing and it caused you to chuckle.

“I really do” you continued.

His lower lip twitched, and he immediately squeezed you close to him, making you smile even more. You knew he felt the same. There was no need for him to say anything.

***

The sky was full of stars as you made your way back to the house. Slowly, making sure not to disturb anyone, you made your way towards Tommy’s room. You gave him another kiss in the doorway before waking in, and finally getting to sleep in the arms of your now lover.

[small-sinclair]

I think about Thomas’s hands being to big, rough, and strong but he loves holding his s/o’s hand or kissing their knuckles just to feel like he belongs or he can show love. I think about how he would be so gentle when cupping their face. I think about how strong his hands are when he’s fighting to protect his beloved.

I think about how he just loves the feeling of their hands in his, reminding him how gentle the small the world can be.

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

May I have a NSFW content where Thomas Hewitt and his S/O 'got it going on' in the bedroom? I would also love to have Thomas being handsy on her breast and often times likes to lick and suck on her tits.

Second slasher related titty ask I've gotten. Not shaming though! Slashers and titties go together like peanut butter and jellied fruit preservative <3

Also feel free to just say sex or fucking if you're comfortable. I'm not bashful xoxo

NSFW, MDNI, 18+, Thomas Hewitt, fem!reader, non-descriptive titty size, racially ambiguous, breast worship, titty sucking, mild lactation kink (no milk but mentions it), heavy breeding kink

Putting the blame wholly on Thomas wasn't reasonable. You had no right to be laid out in that sheer nightgown like that on his bed in his room. You knew it was a tough day for dear old Tommy so you decided to surprise him in the pink nightgown he loves to see you in so much. The baby doll cut accented your pink silk covered breasts while the sheer fabric of the skirt flowed over your legs. You laid there like a tantalizing piece candy for Thomas's viewing pleasure.

You felt a shiver crawl up your spine when you heard the click of the door being locked. After a hard day at work, all Thomas wanted to do was watch your beautiful form as your breasts bounced up and down with every thrust of his cock into your drooling pussy. Thomas made his way over to you trying to savor the entire image of his most dearly beloved laid out for his delight. You moved from a laying position to sit on the side of the bed. Thomas dropped between your legs to wrap his stout arms around your waist. His masked face lay nestled between your heavenly breasts, breathing in the sweet aroma of your perfume.

You glided your fingers through his black hair doing your best to get the knots out without a brush. His shoulders slowly drooped into a relaxed position as he became more lost in your form. Your legs were wrapped around Thomas's ribs as he continued snuggling himself into your chest. You could feel his broad hands stroking your back through the soft fabric of your sheer nightgown. Thomas slowly pulled away from you to push the straps of your lingerie down, further down past your shoulders until the sweetheart neckline of your nightgown was bunched up around your waist.

"They're all yours," you affirmed when the seconds between Thomas undressing your upper half and having his lips on your nipples was growing to be too long. He honestly just had to admire the way your breasts hung from your chest. The way your skin grew goosebumps at being released to the night air in his room. How your nipples hardened under the arousal he made you feel. He made you feel.

You gently brushed your fingers along his mask until you found the knot that held it in place on the back of his head. You made quick work untying his mask then gently slipping it off his face to gingerly place on the nightstand. He felt so exposed without the safety of his mask but with you the exposure didn't feel so frightening.

Thomas took the nipple of your left breast into his mouth. His lips brushing over your areola to take your perked nipple into his wet mouth. You let out a soft breath at the feeling of Thomas's tongue running over the sensitive skin of your nipple. His right hand found its home palming at the breast currently not being suckled into his mouth. The squishy give of your tits excited Thomas with every squeeze he would give you. You Held the back of his head to your breast. Your eyes were half lidded and your lips parted with silent breaths escaping.

He dragged his lips out over your areola again releasing your nipple from his mouth. Thomas never left you neglected, however, because he quickly returned to worshiping your form with open mouth kisses all over your tits. He held both of your breasts in both of his hands, pushing them up so he could worship as much of them as he could. You eagerly leaned back to make as much room for Thomas as you can. The salt from your skin tasted like the sweetest candy on Thomas's tongue. He kissed your breasts again, running his tongue over your skin to have more of your decedent flavor in his mouth once more. You let out a shaky moan when Thomas took the skin of your right breast into his mouth and sucked leaving his mark behind in the form of a hickey.

"Tommy," you said in a breathless whisper. Thomas looked up at you through the tops of his eyes as he returned to sucking on your breasts. You bunched your eyebrows together at the sight before you. Such a large and feared man on his knees sucking your breasts like a new born baby. You whined pushing your chest forward earning an approving groan from Thomas.

"Fuck, baby," you sighed. "Trying to get milk from me?"

It was a simple tease, really. With the way Thomas was so eagerly sucking your breasts you would have thought that he was a man starved of milk his entire life. To Thomas, however, a switch flipped in his mind. He could get milk from you if he really tried. Thomas wasn't a man that read up on inducing lactation but he did know that if you got pregnant you'd start producing milk.

He released your nipple with a pop earning a soft groan from you. The look Thomas had in his eyes, however, made you shiver. He stood up and grabbed your by the waist with his burly hands. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist has he climbed onto the bed with you underneath him. Your back fell against the mattress with your hands firmly on his broad shoulders. His calloused hands ran down your hips to the end of your sheer skirt which he pushed up. The panties you wore were simple white ones with a small bow at the front. You bit your lip and spread your legs more to give your lover easier access. Thomas took note of the wet stain you left on the crotch of your underwear with much delight. He knocked the wet fabric to the side as he bullied his fingers into your wet hole. Thomas buried his index and middle finger to the knuckle trying to feel everything your pussy had to offer. Your back arched upwards as your fingers dug into his shoulders through his shirt.

Thomas started out slow by gently curling his fingers inside of you. He burned the faces you made into his mind and as much as he was loving watching you writhe on his fingers, your breasts look oh so neglected. He leaned down to take your nipple into his mouth. He pulled back lightly mesmerized by how your breast followed his movements. You were wonderful. Your moans, the wet noises from your pussy, the way you shuddered in bliss under his touch, how the salt from your skin melted in his mouth. You were so wonderful.

Thomas didn't even notice but his fingers sped up to chase the increasingly loud moans you were making. His main focus was watching your face as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your mouth hung open and your eyes went wide as you curled your torso forward. Thomas dropped your breast from his mouth leaving a string of saliva still connecting his lips to your nipple. Your body shuddered and your cunt tightened around his fingers bringing back memories to Thomas of the same sensation happening around his cock. He pulled his fingers out of your gripping hole as your panties slid back into place. Without a second thought he brought his fingers up to his mouth to lick clean, not breaking eye contact with you as he did so.

You weakly moaned as your body went flat against the bed once again. This man had no idea what he does to you. "Baby," you murmured, "please let me suck your cock." Thomas shivered at the way your lips curled around your words. The same lips that he had thrusted his cock through and the very same lips that beads of his cum dribbled out of. Oh how he loved to see your lips brushing against his pubic hairs as you take him down your throat but right now he was on a mission. Your pussy looked oh so empty with out his cock stuffed into it and so lonely without buckets of his cum buried deep within.

Thomas impatiently started fumbling his shirt off to toss to the ground. The lovely mix of fat and muscle that laid beneath the thick layer of black hair was more than enough eye candy to wait you over while he jerkily pulled his pants off. When Thomas crawled back on top of you, hands on either of your hips, you couldn't help but run your fingers through his coarse chest hair. Thomas shivered at your gentle touch and he almost felt bad for what he was about to do next.

With the sheer skirt of your lingerie still pushed up, Thomas grabbed onto the elastic of your panties and tugged. You gasped at the tearing sound as he tossed the useless white fabric to the floor. You looked up at Thomas with wide eyes and your lips parted but whatever you were about to say was pushed out of you in the form of a moan when he pushed your pussy open with his throbbing cock. Your walls happily parted to accommodate the massive girth that was him. Thomas returned to having a firm grasp on your hips as he started thrusting. You grabbed onto the sheets pathetically as he pushed you up the bed with every snap of his hips into your sopping cunt. You could feel your whole body heat up from the juicy noises your pussy made and the slapping of Thomas' skin against yours.

You almost felt your soul leave your body when you made eye contact with your lover. It was as if you were looking into the eyes of a predator. Fixed and focused on his prey, Thomas' gaze pierced through you. "Tommy!" you wailed throwing your head back. You looked like heaven the way your breasts bounced with every push of his cock into your cunt. His calloused hands moved from your hips to grab hand fulls of your breasts. He palmed the soft flesh and squeezed earning shivers and moans from you. His dick throbbed at the thought of you being filled with milk. You'd be knocked up and filled with his, and only his, cum. Thomas would bet anything that your breast milk would be the sweetest nectar he'd ever tasted. To know that you were carrying his child, your body prepping to care for them, made him want to keep you pregnant.

"Tommy! Tommy! Tommy!" you cried with your legs snaked around is waist. He groaned at the way tears sprung to your eyes, beautifully leaking down your cheeks. Thomas held the back of your head with one hand and your breast with the other as he took your lips with his. You moaned and whined into his mouth as your hands clumsily grabbed onto his hair for support. He groaned letting a soft whine slip into your mouth at the feeling of you tugging his black tresses. Thomas moved from your mouth to your neck to leave open mouth kisses across your throat. You could only lay there as he used your hole to sheath his cock into. His balls slapped against your ass with every thrust and you could feel your juices leaking down between your cheeks.

Thomas slid down to return to your chest. He kissed across the plump flesh of your breasts while the hand that was holding your head slid down to rub at your clit. Thomas pressed his fingers firmly down as he draw circles around your sensitive clit. You cried out in pleasure at the feeling of being so filled with cock while your clit was being toyed with. He latched back onto your breast, sucking your nipple hard enough you were sure it would bruise. He really way trying to get milk from you. The way you held onto the back of his head made his hips spasm then thrust faster. Claps of skin on skin echoed off the walls and you were sure you wouldn't be able to leave this room without hearing something from Monty.

A spark ignited within your stomach and your fingers slid from his hair to claw down his arms in bliss as another orgasm rams into you.

"Thomas!" you cried out earning and appreciative growl from the man sucking your breasts. You whined at the sensitive feeling of your cunt being pounded into. He moved his fingers away from your clit and wrapped both arms around your waist. Thomas was usually very gentle with you so it was easy to forget exactly how strong he actually was. You could almost forget if it wasn't for the way he both pounded into you and lifted you like a doll to move onto his cock. Shaky cries left your throat as he used your pussy as he pleased. Your lingerie was crumpled and twisted on your body from the way your body moved from Thomas's rampant thrusting. His eyes never once left yours as he growled and moaned at the feeling of your pussy around his cock.

Thomas really could get used to having his sweet little wife plump and knocked up if it meant he could fuck you like this every time. He thought about how your stomach would grow with the life he helped create inside and how your beautiful breasts would swell with milk. He shivered and gave one last snap of his hips before releasing gobs of cum deep within your womb. You shivered at the warm feeling of his semen being released into your warm cunt.

Thomas gently lowered you back to the bed as he caught his breath. Your lips parted as you panted from being fucked within an inch of your life. "Oh Tommy," you softly sighed, "you're so good. You're so good!" Thomas slotted his head between your neck and shoulder while supporting himself on his forearms that rested on either side of your head. You were too good to him. "Fuck Tommy," you mused, "you came so much there is no chance that I'm not pregnant." Thomas bit into your shoulder growling as his hips awakened at the mentioning of your wonderful body making way for his seed. You gasped and whined at the sensitivity of your over fucked cunt being used once again. It seems that tonight was going to be a long night.

[itzdollysworld]

Like Sapphires Woven

into the Night Sky

(Thomas Hewitt x Reader)

There’s an old saying that before the invention of telescopes and before the pursuit of science, the stars that litter the night sky were thought to be gems, woven in by the gods themselves. It’s this fabric of serenity that has been painted and observed by so many, all which stand in awe as those gem twinkle and sparkle, reflecting to the world the beauty that exists underneath the moon’s passion.

The quiet chirp of lightening beetles filled the night, their soft hum a pleasant white noise that filled your ears, creating an atmosphere of tranquility, one that could not be broken. Not now, at least, because right now, you were peaceful. In every sense of the word, you were peaceful, content, and happy. Your heart longed for nothing but to never leave this moment, to never be taken away from this embrace of bliss.

His arms held you securely, wrapped around your waist as you sat on his lap, your back pressed against his chest. Your eyes glance out at the surrounding scenery, taking in the long weeds and the occasional flicker of green light as another lightening beetle fluttered past in a tender expression. You knew, more than anything you knew, you couldn’t get enough of this.

You’re sat outside in the lap of the man you love, whose arms are wrapped around you so dearly, whose head is rested upon your shoulder so lovingly. Every breath you took in, he breathed out. Every sound you recognized, he understood. Every touch you felt, he sparked. He was present, more than ever before! His warmth, his breath, his heart, his small grunts, his subtle movements, everything! It was all present, it was all real and begging for your attention.

You never really knew how you were lucky enough to have met him, yet you sit here now, leaned back in his embrace, basking in the man you get to call yours. Nothing can tear you away from this moment, from this safety that clings to you and hugs your skin, wrapping around you like a weighted blanket, securely holding your skin in its warm, tender embrace.

He could do that. He did that. He does that.

Every second you’ve spent with this man has been better than the last. Even when there’s a disagreement, you’ve always been happy to just hear him, stand by him, and breathe in the same air he takes in himself.

Deep down, on some level, you’ll never be able to get rid of him, even if you wanted to, you won’t be able to. He has planted himself in you like a parasite, successfully injected his toxins into you that have permanently and irreversibly rewrote your cell structure. Your body, on a microscopic level, has been built into an image perfect for him, an image you never wish to change because he is yours, but in the same sense, you are completely and utterly his.

No amount of time can change that, no amount of grief or strife can affect the relationship you hold with this man now. Obsession some might call it, dependency to others, but to you, it’s love. It’s pure, untainted, unconditional love. It’s love that never bends, it never breaks, it never ceases to exist, it just exists! It just breathes with each breath you take, it just lives and grows and expands, taking up the world around you until it has no where else to grow. And when it stops growing, it stays, never reversing back to its original size because in this world of your love is an endless universe created just for him.

It’s this universe you’ve crafted that cherishes him, holds him, protects him, and adores him. It’s this universe that brings forth the very idea of a god, a god that you can and only will be able to love, a god you’ve entitled and throned. This god is him, a being above all else, even yourself. A being so perfect, so innocent yet knowledgeable, so beautiful yet scarred, so merciful yet firm, so….so precious to you. In this universe you’ve created from the cruelty that reigns outside of it, you’ve crowned Thomas god, you’ve given him the title that fits him more than any title will.

In this universe, you sit in his lap, peacefully watching as he sews in the gems that map out the constellations of your adventures together. Those sapphires, true and glorious, shine in that night sky, a reflection of his love for you, a glimpse into his own eyes, the eyes of your own universal god.

You smile, take a deep breath and close your eyes. When you open them, you’re met with those lightening beetle once more. Your eyes flicker up to the sapphires, now rearranged to reflect his desires.

With a warmed heart, you whisper softly, kindly, “Till my last breath, and even beyond that, I will be by your side, Tommy.”

You turn in his lap, looking up at him with a sweet smile. He looks down at you, his eyes glossy and always grateful. You lift a hand, placing it on his scarred cheek, his mask having long since been discarded prior to your encounter. Gently, you caress his skin and lean forward, tenderly kissing the side of his mouth, a spot that always made his eyes flutter.

You pull away slightly, looking back up him. Your eyes connect and your heart swells. He’s always been quite the charmer, and now, as you gaze into those lovely blue eyes, you’re met with his heart, which beats for you.

You lean back closer and press your lips against his this time. A melody of love spills from your heart, dancing and twirling about him in a golden haze, encircling him in a devoted prayer. The stars shimmer in the sky, shifting here in there as Thomas captures this memory on that twinkling canvas.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, compares to his passion, to his love which cradles you so tenderly. Your heart lays in his weathered hands, forever enraptured and infatuated with this immortal beauty, beating a prayer for your combined lips to sing as the night sky grows fonder yet.

Thank you for reading. Bye bye!!!

[birdbrain-npts]

The Slaughter [TMA] ID Pack

Pt: The Slaughter [TMA] ID Pack /end pt

Masks // Image

Names: Abel, Alala, Aldara, Androktasiai, Ares, Athena, Bellona, Cain, Deimos, Enyalius, Enyo, Freddy, Hannibal, Hewitt, Honos, Hysminai, Ioke, Jason, Kain, Kane, Krueger, Kydoimos, Lector, Mars, Michael, Myers, Phonoi, Pins, Polemos, Proioxis, Rodger, Slasher, Thomas, Virtus, Voorhees

Pronouns: bagpipe/bagpipes, blood/bloods, drum/drums, fight/fights, flute/flutes, gore/gores, military/militarys, pipe/pipes, revolver/revolvers, rifle/rifles, slash/slasher, slash/slashs, slasher/slashers, slaught/slaughter, slaughter/slaughters, violence/violences, violent/violents, viscera/visceras, war/wars, weapon/weapons, 🔪/🔪s, 🔫/🔫s, 🥁/🥁s, 🧠/🧠s, 🩸/🩸s, 🪈/🪈s, 🫀/🫀s, 🫁/🫁s

Titles: avatar of the Slaughter, prn who drums along to gunshots, prn who dwells / fights in the trenches, prn who embodies war / violence, prn who follows the rhythm of war, prn who is unpredictable, prn who leads the troops, prn who owns blood money, prn who plays the drums / bagpipe, prn who resides in the train car, prn who wields the knife / weapon / revolver, prn with a floor coated in blood, the drummer boy, the pied piper, the unpredictably violent, the visage of war

Genders: Sillyslaughter, TMA9931907 (SweetArts) Gender, AshSweetSlaughtergender, Coinslaught, Requeslaught, Slaughtergoric, Tmaslaughterhunter, Slaughterbitch, Slaughterfreak, Slaughterloser, Slaughterweirdo, Slaughterlexic, Slaughtesque, Slaughterentail, Slaughtermagaean, Slaughtavaic, Warfaren

Other ids: Dissoslaughava, Avatar of the Slaughter Occuden, Violence Eiment, Slaughteripsese, Avatar of the Slaughter, Slaughter Omninoun, The Slaughter Eiment, Satellatrucis, TheSlaughterperspesque, TheSlaughtervior, TheSlaughtervesil, TheSlaughtertant, TheSlaughterhearthic, TheSlaughterallion, TheSlaughterdernic, Senviolvesi

Text in bold is Names, Pronouns, Titles, Genders, and Other ids respectively

Requested by Anon

Tagging @id-pack-archive and @radiomogai