#TCM x reader

[adalwolfgang]

May I ask for headcannons of slashers (mostly Norman, Lester, and Nubbins) with a S/O who has a stutter?

Slashers with a s/o who stutters

Warnings: none I could really spot except fluff?

Credit to @cafekitsune for the banner(s)

Norman Bates 7/10

He won’t judge you for it. Mainly he judges himself, assuming you can’t talk comfortably around him but that’s why communication is a good thing when it a relationship right? Just remind him that it’s not exactly his fault and that you overall cannot help but to stutter or scramble your speech.

Lester Sinclair 8.7/10

He’ll tease you a lil’ bit but not a whole lot, especially if it makes you uncomfortable or you just don’t like his teasing. In some moments he might get frustrated when he can’t understand you and what you’re trying to say, but it’s the same with with his gibberish. If he ever does (rarely) snap at you, he quickly apologizes. He might even try and help you stutter less if possible.

Nubbins Sawyer 6.7/10

Again like the others, he doesn’t really care. Hell, sometimes he stutters too! Only thing “worse” about him is his teasing. Unlike Lester, his teasing won’t stop. He’ll tease the hell out of you for it. If you bark back, teasing about his stutter, he’ll just laugh along with you. (Internally he is embarrassed)

[lovelymindescape]

Fuller , 1955 : Chapter 10 : The Things you leave behind

Summary: A forgotten object, a memory shared, and a conversation that leaves more questions than answers—Chapter 10 picks up where heartbreak left off. Determined to understand what happened, the reader begins to follow the thread back to where it all frayed. But the closer she gets to the truth, the heavier it begins to weigh.

Setting: Reader’s home, the library, the old trail behind the school – Texas, Early Fall 1955

Characters: Thomas Hewitt (teen), fem!reader, Mrs. Grace, Reader's Mom

⚠️Content Warnings: emotional neglect, trauma, longing, partial confrontation, soft angst, emotional buildup

E’s Notes: This is a “she starts looking” chapter. There’s something so gut-wrenching about retracing old steps in the hope someone else still remembers the way too.

You wake up before the sun. The air in your room is heavy, the kind that makes the bedsheets stick to your skin. But your mind isn’t on the heat—it’s on him.

Still. Always.

You sit up slowly, stretching the sleep from your bones, and glance at your nightstand. The unfinished letter is still there. The page crinkled at the corners where your hand trembled too long the night before. You don’t pick it up again.

You just… look at it.

Then turn away. You don’t know if you’re angry or tired or just stuck. Maybe all three.

Downstairs, your mother is already halfway through her first cup of coffee. She doesn’t look up when you walk in. The kitchen radio plays a slow country waltz that seems too cheerful for how your chest feels.

You pour yourself some orange juice, take one sip, then dump the rest into the sink.

“You’re going out?” she asks without inflection.

“Library,” you mutter. “Maybe the store.“

"You’re not spending more money on notebooks and pencils, are you?”

You don’t answer. You grab your bag and slip out the back door before the rhythm of her sigh can catch you.

The air outside is gray and quiet. The kind of morning that feels like it’s holding its breath. You take the long way into town. Past the broken fence along Miller Road, past the old barn with the boarded-up windows. You avoid looking at it. The silence of that place has a weight all its own now.

It’s just after ten when you push through the creaky front doors of the library. It’s mostly empty, save for the gentle hum of ceiling fans and the scent of worn paper.

Mrs. Grace is behind the desk, sorting through a pile of returned books. She looks up when she hears you.Her smile is small—but knowing.

“Back so soon?” she asks gently.

You nod, eyes down. You’re not sure how to say it—what you’re looking for. Not in books. Not really. She reaches beneath the counter and pulls something out: a folded piece of paper, slightly wrinkled.

She holds it between two fingers like it’s something fragile.

“He left this the day you were here. I didn’t know if I should keep it. But something told me you’d be back.”

You stare at it.

Your throat tightens.

Your hands tremble as you take it from her.It isn’t a note. Not really. It’s a sketch. The corner of your face—barely begun. The curve of your mouth, the arch of your neck. It’s unfinished, but unmistakable. The lines are soft, hesitant.

Delicate.

There’s no signature. Just faint graphite and the smudge of a thumbprint along the edge. Your chest aches.

“Did he note anything when he left it?”

Mrs. Grace hesitates. Then her voice lowers.

“Only that he didn’t mean to leave a mess. He looked like he was holding something heavy. Something bigger than what any boy should carry alone.”

You press the sketch to your chest, fingers curling around the edge. The silence stretches between you and the librarian like an open wound.

“He’s not bad,” you whisper, your voice cracking.

“He’s not what they say.”

Mrs. Grace nods slowly.

“I know.”

You leave the library just before noon. The sun has finally broken through the clouds, but it doesn’t make you feel any warmer. Instead of going straight home, you turn toward the back trail behind the school—the one you used to take when you needed air.

The path is mostly dirt, scattered with dry leaves and bits of trash from other kids sneaking cigarettes. You walk it alone now. It’s stupid, maybe. You know you won’t find him here. But you keep walking. Halfway down the trail, you stop.

There, half-buried beneath a cluster of wild grass, is the stub of a pencil. Broken. The kind Thomas always used. You crouch down, pick it up. The wood is splintered. The graphite dulled. It might not even be his.

But you slip it into your pocket anyway.Just in case.

When you finally get home in the late evening , your mother’s voice cuts through the screen door before you even step inside.

“You were gone for hours. I thought you said the library.”

“I was at the library.”

“And?”

“And I don’t have to check in every minute of my life.” She sighs—frustrated, tired. You don’t wait for more. You climb the stairs. Close your door. The sketch is still pressed between your hands. You smooth it out on your desk, place it beside your own unfinished letter.

Two incomplete things. Almost touching.

You sit at your desk, fingers tracing the faint lines of the sketch. Your breath catches in your throat as you try to make sense of it all. The boy you thought you knew… or at least the version you wanted to know. There’s a tenderness here you never saw at school.

The quiet carefulness of a hand that wants to create, not destroy. Your eyes drift back to your own letter, folded neatly but unread, folded with all the hopes you haven’t yet found the courage to speak aloud.

Your chest tightens.

You want to cry, but the tears don’t come.

Instead, you feel the sharp edge of confusion. If Thomas is more than the rumors, the whispers, the cruel jokes

why does he keep shutting you out?

Why the distance?

The silence?

You bite your lip and lean your forehead against the cold wood of your desk. You want to reach him. To fix it.nBut you don’t even know where to start.

The afternoon light slips through your window in slow golden beams, dust motes dancing like tiny ghosts. Your mind drifts back to Mrs. Grace’s words.

He looked like he was holding something heavy.

You know that weight well. You’ve felt it in your own heart. You wonder what it feels like to carry it alone. Maybe that’s why he pushes everyone away. Because the hurt is so big, it’s too much to share. Too much to explain.

The house feels too quiet. Too empty without answers. You wonder if Thomas feels the same, or if he’s already gone too far down the path you can’t follow yet.

You think about the pencil you found on the trail — a tiny, broken thing, but something you want to believe is a sign. A connection.

Something that means he’s still here, somewhere, needing you as much as you need him.

You push back your chair and stand.You need air. You need movement. You need to find something—anything—that might bring a sliver of clarity. Outside, the late afternoon sun is softening, the breeze cool enough to chase away the heat.

You decide to take the long route to the park. The place where you once talked about dreams and futures that now feel farther away than ever. The crunch of your shoes on the gravel is steady, grounding.But your thoughts race.

What if he’s slipping further from you?

What if the silence is something you can’t break?

At the park, the empty swings creak gently in the breeze. You sit on the bench, clutching the sketch. The sound of children’s laughter drifts from the other side of the playground—bright, careless, unaware.

Your heart twists painfully. You want to yell for Thomas. To call him back. To tell him you’re here. You’re not going anywhere. But the words get stuck in your throat.

Instead, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You’ll keep trying. Because some things are worth the waiting. Even if the waiting hurts.

You sit on the bench, watching the sky deepen into soft shades of pink and purple. The quiet wraps around you like a blanket, but your thoughts feel heavy. Just as you start to stand, footsteps crunch gently on the gravel nearby.

You glance up and see Thomas standing a few feet away, his eyes searching yours with an uncertain, almost vulnerable look. The bandana still wrapped tightly around his head, his sketchbook hugged close to his side. He doesn’t speak—he can’t—but his gaze says everything. Hesitation, regret, longing.

Slowly, he takes a step closer.

His fingers twitch, as if wanting to reach out but unsure if you’ll let him. You hold your breath, your own hand rising just a little. Then, carefully, Thomas extends his hand towards yours, palm open and trembling slightly.

You close the small distance between you, letting your fingers brush over his. His hand tightens around yours—a quiet but powerful promise. He pulls out a pencil from his pocket and, with careful strokes, quickly sketches a small heart in the air between you, then points to your hand where it rests in his.

His eyes shine with unspoken words.No need for speech—this silent moment holds everything. As the sky darkens, you squeeze his hand gently, a soft smile breaking through. Slowly, the fragile barrier between you begins to crumble.

TBC : Chapter 11

Taglist: @iloved1lfs0 @dogrrrrr @thewolffairytaler @night-shadowblood-writes2 @richietoziers-world @oliposca @decojellyfish

[impeakcharacterdesign]

Just the Tip

— Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader —

MDNI!!!

Summary: It’s the 1960s and Luda Mae frowns upon premarital sex like any good Christian woman. You and Tommy are young, hot, and in love but the only problem is that Tommy was raised to wait until marriage and never lets you two go any further than kissing and some groping.

But the devil lives in the hot Texan sun and even God takes a break from the summer heat.

Notes: this is super short, just pure smut, self indulgent I’m obsessed with big boy Tommy 😭😭😭 i swear I’m working on part 2 of my sister Sinclair fic but Tommy has me in a choke hold and I needed an outlet.

No TW that I can think of other than bad smut and maybe ??? Coercion??? Cause Tommy wants to be a good boy and stop before y’all go too far but you flash him and then he’s absolutely 100% in. A bit of religious stuff, period typical sexism but vaguely. Let me know if I should add anything else and I’ll get right on it. Reader isn’t ever referred to using “she/her” pronouns but is described as having breasts and does have female genitalia so I tagged it fem reader to be safe

Enjoy!!!

The early morning sun burned, chasing away what little cool air remained of the night before. While the barn shaded you from the unforgiving sun and hid you from disapproving eyes — or lecherous in the case of the older men of the family — it also trapped in the heat your two bodies gave off.

Thomas pressed his open mouth to your own, tongue swiping over your teeth eager to taste you. Your hands gripped his dark hair, ruining any half-effort attempt he had made earlier in the day to smooth down his unruly hair. He held you in his arms, body pressed tightly against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his large frame hiding you even further from prying eyes than the shadowed corners of the old barn. The kiss was deep and hungry and served as a brief respite from Luda Maes ever watching eyes. While she had been fine with you living with the family before you and Tommy were married, she forbade you from sharing a room or being intimate, a rule she absolutely refused to budge on and one that Uncle Charlie took a strange glee in ribbing you about. But much like the Texan heat, the heated looks you gave each other were unavoidable and only grew hotter as the summer days went on. Luda Mae wanted to wait until the following spring to make your union official but at the rate the town was drying up, there wouldn't even be a priest to officiate the ceremony, much less any guest to attend. You highly doubted anyone outside of the family would want to witness your union anyway but still, Luda Mae didn't want the few who would to get wise and start counting months.

These stolen moments in the barn were as good as you could get — and by god were they good.

Tommy’s large hands groped at your breasts, pawing roughy at your nipples through the worn fabric of your old dress. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the familiar position of being sprawled out on the barn floor, coarse hay a discomfort you had long learned to endure for the sake of pleasure.

You desperately thrust your sex up onto his growing bulge, whining when he groaned and pinned your hips with his own, preventing you from getting your desired stimulation. “Please Tommy,” you beg, lips separating, “We don’t have to do too much, I just wanna touch you.” You press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, pulling softly at the flesh with your teeth and tongue dragging across the bites to taste the salt on his skin. Your hands eagerly worked to untuck his faded green shirt and wrap around him, roaming the vast expanse of his back. His whole body shuddered in your arms, an attempt to hold back from eating you whole.

You know Thomas will put an end to your romp soon, the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he shuts his eyes a sign that he's reaching his limit, that if you two don't stop now you won't be able to stop — but that’s exactly what you want.

You're tired of holding back, of this constant edging you have to endure when you’re in his presence and it gets harder every day. Just yesterday afternoon, Uncle Charlie sprayed Tommy with the hose, telling him that he was filthy and needed to get out of those clothes before he went inside. Watching as he undressed by the back door so that you could put his clothes on the line to dry had nearly given you a heatstroke — and if Charlie’s leering grin was any clue, you swear he did it on purpose in an attempt to rile you up. You ran off before you sinned right there in the yard, the memory of Thomas's shirt clinging to his arms, his chest glistening with water had kept you company well into the night.

So before Tommy puts a stop to your roll in the hay you make your move. You lift your dress up past your breast and expose yourself to him, you can see his breath stutter in his chest, this was quickly becoming the farthest you two had ever gone.

“Just watch me, Tommy, watch me,” you say breathlessly.

And he does, he sits on his haunches like a predator, his engorged cock straining against his pants and imagining just a taste has your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his gaze fixated on the movement.

Sliding your panties off your legs, your fingers dip briefly into your wet hole, gathering slick to rub onto your clit. At the very first touch, you let out a shuddering breath and you watch as his shoulders heave.

You begin rubbing your clit at an intense pace already turned on from the earlier heavy petting, not once breaking eye contact with Thomas as you do. With each moan you muffle you see his eyes grow darker with desire breathing with his mouth open as though he could taste your scent in the air. When he finally lets his cock spring free you let out your loudest moan yet. It’s better than you ever thought. His cock is thick and heavy, drooping slightly under its own weight but still undeniably firm. It curves slightly and you imagine that if it was inside you it would scrape against your walls in a way you've never been able to do with just your fingers.

Thomas grips his cock firmly and gives it a few tugs, eyes alternating between hungrily drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression and your dripping pussy. You buck your hips, desperate to press your clit against your fingers and Thomas jerks his length even faster, rubbing his tip and spreading his precum on his hand.

God, you wished it was you that was touching him.

Thomas settles onto his knees and after a brief hesitation begins to shuffle closer to you. The sight of him crawling to you on his knees with his dripping length in hand made your pussy clench around nothing and you let out a whimper. You remove your fingers from your clit, feeling the heat radiating from his cock as he settles on top of you, legs spreading around his waist, your hips slightly raised and resting on his thighs.

The tip hesitantly pressed against your clit and your moan fills the small space before you can suppress it. This was better than you were hoping and it felt as though you were pressing against the boundaries the lord had set for you. Tommy’s eyes find yours looking for reassurance, asking without words, “Do you think this is okay?”

You find enough comprehension in your lust-addled brain to come up with a coherent answer, “It should be fine, I think,” you stammer out, “I mean, it’s not like — not like you’re putting it in so, it should be fine.”

You’re not overly familiar with the word of God outside of Sunday services and Luda Mae’s lectures, both of which you were forced to attend and spent tuning out in favor of watching the sweat build on Tommy’s brow while he worked through the window.

You think that if God could feel the weight of Thomas like you did, feel the heat like you could, you think he’d forgive the sin of your act.

It seems like that was all the reassurance that Thomas needed because no sooner than the words fumbled their way out of your mouth that he begins to drag the length of his cock against your slit.

God, if this is what hell was supposed to be like, burning and full of decadence, then perhaps you didn’t mind being a sinner.

The way he ruts against you is euphoric. Heavy breaths escape you both and you can’t help the words that spill from your lips.

“God, Tommy, I wish you would put it inside me,” you whine out “‘wanna feel your fat cock in my pussy, wanna get filled,” you might as well be begging at this point, and Tommy's increases his pace to the point that you think he wants the same thing, that he’s desperate to thrust into you rather than against you and —

And then the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you both stop breathing.

“Maybe — Maybe it doesn’t count.” You stammer out, “It didn’t go in and it’s just the tip, and I don’t think that the tip counts” With the slightest twitch of his hips the tip of his cock has slipped inside.

"It's - it's just the tip it's fine” Your words sound empty even to you but the reassurance is all Tommy needs to push forward and let the head of his cock slide into your welcoming heat

His soul nearly leaves his body when he feels your raw pussy on the head of his cock. He jerks his length furiously and your fingers begin to move against your clit again, eager to meet your high with Thomas.

But it’s not enough. He was right there, right there just one push of his hips he’d be right where you needed him

“Please Tommy” Canting your hips slightly so the tip begins to dig deeper into you, you begin to plead once more, “wanna feel you fill me up, wanna remember the shape of your cock please”

Thomas feels years of control break at your words and with one swing of his hips, he bottoms out instantly. You feel like you've been punched in the gut as the air rushes out of you and you let out a sound like a wounded animal. Tommy stays still deep inside you, shaking and heaving, absolutely drunk on the feeling of your soaked walls clenching vigorously around his length.

You feel full in a way you've never thought possible. His length throbs, its girth stretching you in a way that burns.

When he finally starts thrusting, you’re not ready. He’s like a man possessed, solely focused on the feel of you around him, your skin pressed against his, his blood pounding in his ears.

“Wait— Tommy, ah, slow — slow down, oh god!” You can’t hold back your moans and he can’t stop, both fully engrossed in the feel of each other with no control over your own lust. Thomas crashes his lips onto yours in a halfhearted attempt to keep down your moans, it’s sloppy, clashing teeth and drooling tongues, spit escaping your lips, unlike any you’ve shared before.

This is completely different from what you’ve imagined your first time together would be like. It’s not your wedding night, you're laying on the dirty barn floor and there’s absolutely nothing gentle about the way Tommy is ravaging you. Your pussy is sopping wet and with every thrust, it lets out an embarrassing squelch, your juices and Tommy’s pre-cum leak down your ass and make a sticky mess in his dark pubes.

He doesn’t stop even as your walls spasm around him, cumming on his cock and digging your nails into his strong back. He works you through your orgasm even as your mouth clumsily forms the words to beg for him to slow down or to give you a moment. It’s too much, the sensations completely overloading your brain and all you can do is hold on tightly to him, lost in the ecstasy of your release.

Thomas lets out a deep, guttural groan as he cums, hips stuttering as he bullies his fat cock into the deepest part of your sex, filling you to the brim and your vision goes white.

Boneless, neither one of you makes a move to separate from the other, so thoroughly satisfied and content to lie where you are holding each other, Thomas’s softening cocking slipping out of you and spilling his release onto the ground.

His weight on you is comforting, you gently press kisses to his face and bask in the way his heavy breaths caress your sweaty skin.

“I love you.” You whisper into the shell of his ear and he squeezes you against him, repeating the words in his garbled voice the best he could. Your love is just for the two of you, no one else had a place in your world, no one else had the right to peak in on your affection or gawk at your differences.

This moment in time was just for the two of you.

“Thomas! Where the hell are ya, boy!”

Well, until Uncle Charlie’s voice brought you back down to reality.

[kenziiie]

the day had started the way most days did in the hewitt house—heat clinging to your skin, the smell of meat in the air, and the familiar creak of floorboards under heavy boots. thomas was already up before you, like always, dragging his massive body around the house quietly, not wanting to wake you. he was considerate like that, even if the rest of the world didn’t see it.

you padded down the stairs in one of his flannels and some cotton shorts, hair tied up loosely, thick thighs brushing together as you walked. the kitchen was already warm from the stove and luda mae’s humming filled the air as she moved from counter to table.

“mornin’, baby,” she said, glancing at you over her shoulder with a soft smile. “sleep okay?”

you nodded with a small smile. “yeah… thomas kept me warm.”

“mmm,” she hummed with a knowing grin. “he sure did. strong boy like that? bet he keeps ya real warm.”

you blushed, instantly looking away as you reached for a plate. luda mae always had a comment, especially since you and thomas started sharing his room more permanently. she never said anything mean—just nosy in that sweet, southern woman way that made it hard to be mad.

“so,” she said after a pause, voice real casual as she stirred her pot of gravy. “you two thinkin’ about makin’ me a grandma anytime soon?”

you choked on your spit, plate clattering a little too loud as you set it down. “w-what?”

“oh, come on now,” she chuckled. “you’re young, healthy, thick in all the right places—thomas is smitten. man won’t stop watchin’ you like you hung the moon. don’t take a genius to know he’s itchin’ for a baby.”

your face burned. your thighs squeezed together on reflex. you didn’t even know what to say.

from the hallway, you heard a low shuffle. thomas, hovering, probably heard the whole damn thing. you glanced toward the door just in time to see his massive frame disappear, shoulders stiff and head ducked low like he was embarrassed.

great.

“i—I dunno,” you mumbled, cheeks hot. “we haven’t really talked about it like that.”

luda mae just laughed like she knew better. “mmhmm.”

⸻

you stayed flustered for the rest of the day.

even as you helped luda mae with laundry, helped monty sort through junk, or swept the porch, your brain kept circling back to what she said. the idea of thomas wanting that… wanting you like that. and you couldn’t lie to yourself either—somewhere deep down, the thought of carrying his baby, something made from both of you, made your chest tighten and your thighs clench.

by late afternoon, you were back in the kitchen, elbow-deep in dishwater.

luda mae wiped her hands on her apron and gave you a look. “baby, could you go check on thomas? he went down to the basement a while ago and hasn’t come up since. just make sure he ain’t hurt.”

“yeah, of course,” you said, drying your hands on a towel.

you made your way to the basement, the air cooling as you descended. it was darker than usual—thomas hadn’t turned on the overhead lights. just the dull yellow of a small lamp on the far table.

“tommy?” you called softly.

no answer, but you heard the squeak of his chair. you rounded the corner, and what you saw made your breath catch.

he was sitting at his workbench, massive hands working clumsily but carefully with a needle and thread. his apron was splattered with blood—some of it dried, some fresh—but his attention wasn’t on meat or skin. it was on two tiny pieces of fabric.

a baby onesie. two of them, actually.

one soft pink, the other powder blue. mismatched stitching, a little uneven, but clearly made with so much care.

your throat tightened. “tommy…”

he flinched slightly and paused, glancing over his shoulder at you. his eyes were wide behind his messy dark hair, like he’d been caught. he held the onesie gently in his blood-streaked hands, not hiding it.

“you… you made these?” you stepped closer, voice barely above a whisper.

he nodded, silent. you watched him shift nervously in his seat, hands twitching like he wanted to hide the sewing, but also didn’t.

you knelt beside him and gently took his wrist. “can i hold one?”

he nodded again, and you picked up the blue one, pressing it between your fingers. the stitching was jagged but sweet. there were little Xs where buttons should be, and on the chest, a small heart—shaky, like he had trouble holding the needle still, but you knew he tried his hardest.

“thomas… are you tryna tell me something?”

he stared at you for a moment, then slowly raised his hands and pointed at you… then his chest… then the onesies.

you felt your heart skip. “us? you want… babies?”

his head lowered, almost like he was ashamed to say it. he nodded again.

“tommy…” you stood and stepped between his legs, cradling his face. “why didn’t you tell me?”

he huffed through his mask, body tense.

you leaned down, pressing your forehead to his. “baby… i want that too.”

he froze.

you laughed softly. “you really thought i wouldn’t wanna have your baby? after everything? after the way you look at me? touch me?”

his hands shook as they landed on your waist, pulling you just a little closer.

you whispered against his mask, “i want you, thomas. and i want that. i wanna feel you inside me and know you’re putting your baby in me. i wanna carry it. yours. ours.”

his grip tightened just a little, a low groan escaping his chest.

you kissed the side of his face through the leather, then whispered, “after dinner… take me upstairs.”

⸻

dinner at the hewitt house was a loud, messy thing. meat slapped down on metal trays, potatoes scooped in heaps, gravy poured like it was water. the air was thick with smoke and the smell of grease, and you sat close beside thomas, thighs pressed together under the table.

he hadn’t said a word, as usual, but his hand hadn’t left your thigh since you sat down. it was warm, heavy, and comforting, his thumb brushing soft circles into your skin. like he needed to keep touching you to believe what you’d said earlier was real.

you didn’t pull away.

“so,” monty said after a long slurp of beer, eyeing you both. “you kids have a good talk earlier?”

you nearly choked on your biscuit.

luda mae shot him a look. “monty.”

“what? just sayin’! boy’s been mopin’ around like a kicked dog since this mornin’. now he’s all smug, got his hand on her leg like he just got laid.”

your face burned, but you didn’t argue—because thomas was acting smug. quiet, but smug. his head was low but his shoulders were straighter. and when you glanced at him, he glanced right back, eyes burning with something hungry, warm.

“we talked,” you said simply, and reached for a spoonful of sweet potatoes. “and yeah… we’re on the same page.”

luda mae raised a brow. “what page is that?”

thomas tensed beside you.

you smiled softly. “the baby one.”

a clatter echoed from across the table—monty had dropped his fork. “well i’ll be damned.”

“not now,” luda mae scolded, even as she tried to hold back a grin. “don’t go scarin’ the girl.”

“ain’t scarin’ her,” monty muttered. “she’s the only one who’s ever looked at him like that. ‘course he wants a family with her.”

you swallowed thickly, one hand sneaking beneath the table to wrap around thomas’ wrist. he squeezed back gently.

the rest of the meal passed in warm, slightly awkward conversation. luda mae went on about how she’d start saving baby blankets, monty joked about how the kid would probably come out the size of a toddler, and thomas sat quiet, content, just listening.

after dessert—pecan pie so sweet it made your teeth ache—you whispered, “you ready to go up?”

he stood up without hesitation.

⸻

you were barely through the bedroom door before he shut it behind you, clicking the lock.

“thomas,” you whispered, heart already thudding as you backed toward the bed. “you sure you’re ready for this?”

he nodded hard, approaching slow, gaze fixed on your stomach, your hips, your thighs like he could see the idea of filling you up already.

you reached for him, tugging him closer by the hem of his bloody apron. “then take it. take me. put a baby in me.”

a low, guttural sound left him—half groan, half growl. his hands were on you in an instant, rough palms sliding over your soft hips, up your back, over the swell of your ass. he picked you up like you weighed nothing, laying you down on the creaky bed.

he hovered above you, massive and trembling with restraint.

you undid your shorts and slid them down slowly. “do it, tommy. breed me.”

⸻

the room felt smaller with thomas hovering over you, his massive frame blocking out the low lamp light on the nightstand. his hands were hot, calloused, trembling just a little as he touched you like you were something sacred. his girl. his wife. the only softness he ever got to keep in a world full of blood and screaming.

you were already breathless.

“you want this, tommy?” you whispered, thighs falling open as he knelt between them, his eyes locked on your stomach like he could already see it swollen with his child. “you wanna fill me up?”

his head jerked in a frantic nod, groan rumbling behind his mask. his fingers dug into your thighs, pulling you closer, spreading you wider.

you cupped his masked face, thumb brushing over the leather. “then do it. don’t hold back. i want all of you.”

he growled low in his throat like an animal barely leashed, then leaned forward and bit at your neck through the mask—gentle, careful, but wild with want. you gasped, wrapping your arms around him as his hands slid under your shirt, bunching it up, exposing your stomach and full breasts.

his breath caught when he looked at you bare. like he was seeing you for the first time all over again.

you whispered, “this body’s yours, baby. you see all this? all this softness? it’s for you. for our baby.”

he let out a harsh exhale and stripped you the rest of the way—panties tugged off, shirt pulled over your head. you were flushed, thick thighs spread wide on the old bed, your brown skin glowing under the low light. his hands were shaking when he touched your stomach, then moved lower, thick fingers spreading your folds to see how wet you were.

“all for you,” you whispered, hips arching into his touch. “always for you.”

he grunted, then pulled away just enough to undo his belt, his pants. his cock slapped up heavy and thick, flushed and already leaking. he was hard enough to hurt—needy, twitching, and too big to be gentle.

but you weren’t scared. never were.

“come here,” you whispered. “fuck a baby into me, tommy.”

he climbed back over you, hands bracing on either side of your head. you reached down and guided him to your entrance, rubbing his tip through your folds, then looking up at him with soft, pleading eyes.

“do it. now.”

he thrust in with one long, deep stroke—slow enough to feel every thick inch stretch you open. you gasped, eyes fluttering, nails digging into his arms.

“f-fuck, tommy—s’so big…”

he paused, like he was giving you a second to adjust, his forehead pressed to yours.

you smiled through the sting. “you want me to take all of it, right? be a good mama for you?”

he nodded so fast it looked like he might cry.

“then keep going.”

he pulled back halfway and slammed back in, dragging a broken moan from your throat. again. again. each stroke hit deep, perfectly angled, splitting you open just right. the bed creaked violently under his weight, headboard banging against the wall with every deep thrust.

“mmmph, oh my god—thomas—baby—yes—”

he leaned back just enough to grab your thighs and push them toward your chest, bending you nearly in half. full-on mating press. you whined at the pressure but didn’t stop him. you loved when he manhandled you like this—when he lost control trying to be as close to you as possible.

his thrusts turned brutal, desperate, his body slapping against yours, sweat dripping down his chest. you could feel his cock throb deep inside, your walls fluttering around him.

“you gonna cum in me, baby?” you moaned. “you gonna put your baby in me?”

his hips stuttered, a loud grunt breaking from his throat as he plunged as deep as he could go—and stayed there, cock pulsing as thick warmth flooded your womb.

you gasped, full-body shuddering at the heat.

“oh fuck… fuck, thomas—i can feel it—”

he collapsed over you, still buried deep, arms caging you in.

you pressed kisses to the side of his mask. “that’s it. one down.”

he jerked a little in surprise.

you giggled, cupping the back of his head. “you didn’t think we were done, did you?”

⸻

he gave you three more.

he didn’t pull out once.

the second round started before you even caught your breath. he kept you on your back, kept you in mating press, your thighs shaking, your pussy already dripping with the first load when he pushed back in. it was easier this time—your body already slick and swollen, cunt clutching him like it wanted to be ruined.

“gonna make me fat with your babies, tommy,” you moaned, eyes rolled back. “mama’s gonna be so proud of you.”

he went feral. no rhythm, just pure rutting—grinding into you like he could feel the baby growing already.

by the third round, you were on your side, one leg thrown over his shoulder, your ass grinding back against his thrusts. you were babbling now, dazed and full, fingers clenching the sheets.

“yesyesyes—gimme more—need it so bad—wanna carry you, baby—make me a mama—please—”

his hand slid around your stomach and squeezed gently, like he was already holding the bump there.

the final round was slow.

he rolled you onto your stomach, blanketing you from behind, kissing your shoulder through the mask, hips rocking slow and deep. you held the pillow tight and moaned into it, your pussy sore and stretched, used perfectly.

“you’re gonna be a daddy, tommy,” you whispered, tears slipping from your eyes. “i just know it.”

he kissed your back and groaned your name like a prayer, then buried himself in you one last time, spilling every drop he had.

⸻

afterward, you lay together in silence, limbs tangled, your thighs still sticky with cum.

thomas cleaned you up with the gentleness of someone handling fine silk. he tucked the blanket around you and rested his head on your chest, arms wrapped tight around your waist.

you carded your fingers through his hair, still breathless but glowing.

“we really did it,” you whispered. “i hope it takes.”

he nuzzled your stomach and let out a soft, muffled sound. something between a hum and a purr.

“you’ll be such a good daddy,” you murmured. “so sweet. so strong.”

his hand moved over your stomach again—like he could already feel the life inside.

i need him so bad omg

[ashtheketchum]

How would the Sawyer family react to their first kiss? (+ Thomas Hewitt)

A/N: I thought for a long time about whether I really wanted to start something with the horror fandom here and I've decided to do it! I'm a huge Texas Chainsaw Massacre fan and accordingly I'm going to write something about these characters. This is my first time writing for the Sawyers and Thomas, so please show mercy!

Warnings: GN.Reader, mention of s(c)ex, mention of cannibalism, I use they/them pronouns for Bubba

Characters: Bubba Sawyer, Drayton Sawyer, Chop Top Sawyer, Nubbins Sawyer, Thomas Hewitt

______________________________

Bubba Sawyer:

They would squeal loudly and mumble something that you can't understand

They never thought that someone as adorable as you would ever kiss them!

They would also be so happy that they would hug you and spin around on the spot

If your ribs aren't broken from the hug, they wouldn't let go until you couldn't breathe anymore

Then they would apologize with loud whimpers and squeaking noises

If the brothers found out, they would be a little shy before admitting it

They would make fun of it in their own way, but you didn't mind

But they themself would never kiss you on the mouth afterwards, but on the cheek or forehead

They just feel too insecure to kiss you on the mouth without really knowing that you want it too (But oh boy, you want it)

But you also respect that they doesn't want to step out of their comfort zone

Drayton Sawyer:

This poor old man would say insults under his breath

Don't expect too much of a reaction from him, he doesn't believe much in love and (as he would spell it) scex

But he's an old fashion man that means he would also give you a peck back (But only if his brothers aren´t around-)

But nothing more

"Why would you kiss an old man like me now?" would be a question he would ask you, but he still has a slight grin on his lips

Sometimes he also teases you that these lips recently ate a human

If his brothers found out about this, he would beat them with his broom

Bubba would just shyly turn away and cover their eyes, so Drayton only insults them

Don't you dare kiss him in front of his family! He doesn't like to do it, but if you provoke him, he'll use the broom on you too!

With him, there would only be small pecks, don't expect more from him

Chop Top Sawyer:

He would jump around happily and scream loudly

"I just got a kiss! I just got a kiss!"

Then he would ask you for a kiss again

And then again

And then again-

His brothers wouldn't even have to find out, he would tell his brothers himself

When Drayton acts disgusted or disappointed, Chop Top just teases him about being jealous

When you're alone, you always listen to music together and while listening to the music, you would kiss over and over again

Chop Top says that you should time your kisses to the beat

After your first kiss, there would be no more "normal" kisses, only passionate kisses

Nubbins Sawyer:

He would be similar to his twin brother

After your first kiss, which was just a small kiss, you wouldn't kiss normally anymore

Sometimes he would take pictures of him kissing your cheek or gently biting you (aka. His way of kissing you)

I can really imagine that sometimes he would just gently bite you instead of kissing you

"B-b-but this is m-my way t-t-o kiss you, y-y-y/n!"

You accept it as long as he doesn't bite you hard

The pictures he takes he would hang on your wall or try to sell to some victims

Just like his twin brother, Nubbins would just tell everyone (Even the victims-)

He would be like: "Y-y-y-you know…! I-i just ha-ad my first k-kiss!"

He might be a little too proud of it, but give him this moment

Thomas Hewitt:

At first he would be completely overwhelmed

For a whole minute he would just stare at you and not move at all before he would flinch and shake his head slightly

Although you could hardly see it through his mask, he would turn completely red

After that he would gently stroke your cheek and grunt quietly

Luda May would just smile lovingly at you two and murmur quietly how proud she was of her son

Hoyt would just gag quietly before sending Thomas back to the basement to continue working on the ,,dinner"

Thomas would only kiss you in the basement or when Hoyt wasn´t near you two

When you go to sleep, you sometimes kiss more passionately, but only when you go to sleep

You would play with his long hair while he would stroke your back

Before he goes out to hunt the victims, he gives you a quick kiss on the lips

[apocalypse-shuffle]

LEATHERFACE | BUBBA SAWYER (TTCM & TTCM P2 | TCM: Next Generation a little)

—

Being in a relationship w/ Leatherface (and coexisting w/ the Sawyer Family) (Bubba Sawyer | Leatherface x Fem!Reader)

Headcanons

NSFW-ish, mature themes, canon typical violence & gore, murder, normalized violence, (TW: Cannibalism, human-skin leather), sawyer family appearances, brief mentions of sex, slasher shit -soft!girly!reader & kind of callous!reader

Pic source: beg./middle•The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) & end•The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Part 2

Happy 3 days till Halloween!!! 🎃

The only reason you had been spared was because of how earnestly you’d taken to them. You’d been hitchhiking too when Nubbins asked to ride with the crew you were with. But keeping to yourself in the farthest corner of the van you’d looked so alert that Nubbins had kept his taunting for the others and stayed clear of bothering with you entirely in case the aura you were immitting — despite your pretty dust riddled clothes — wasn’t just his imagination.

Still though when Nubbins starts to show off his polaroids to bring the group's guards down you pay the most attention, even complimenting some of his more atmospheric shots before tucking back into yourself.

Nubbins is so shocked he just asks to be let out afterwards, not even having cut himself or properly antagonized anyone the way he’d perfected over the last couple of months.

Really it’s the others’ insistence on poking around after Nubbins had told them a “ghost story” about cannibals in the dust storms that gets them murdered. Nubbins hadn’t wanted to deal with you (at least not without Bubba), and had lowkey been flattered by your compliments, so he’d let you guys go.

When you make it a point to just be on your way after the Sawyer’s latest grocery delivery starts trespassing all over their private land, and run into Drayton and Bubba coming back from a trip out of town, the conversation the older man starts up with you isn’t even laden with ulterior motive.

Bubba is immediately smitten by the flash of a smile you give him when you catch sight of him unmasked before he has a chance to duck from where he’s sitting in the truck bed. And how you don’t recoil and hardly bat a lash at him after he hastily ties on his mask has him ready to argue with his older brother about inviting you to dinner and not letting you go before Drayton’s even halfway through talking with you.

He doesn’t need to do much convincing however because Drayton’s already got his hat off like the southern gentlemen he isn’t, and you’ve got your head tilted as you listen to him, guarded gaze growing softer the longer you keep catching Bubba stealing glances at you.

You’re honest though, and the pseudo patriarch likes that. Coupled with the fact he keeps applying “manners” to what’s really just your soft spoken bluntness, and he’s convinced you’re exactly the womanly presence the family needs before the day’s done.

You’re aimless and/or disowned anyway so you take Drayton up on his invite back to the house and the rest is pretty cut and dry (this is pre the first movie). You don’t participate in the deaths of your past companions, but you're introduced up close and personal to the reality of the Sawyers pretty quickly.

When “Leatherface” comes out and that chainsaw revs up you’ve got front row seats to the blunt chains tearing through flesh and cracking open bone and are covered in enough blood by the time the group of idiots you’d been traveling with are all killed with extreme prejudice to feel damn near baptized in it.

Enough blood to drive Bubba crazy and have him being mercilessly teased by Nubbins over the chub he’s sporting in his trousers.

For your part, you just go with everything (at first) so you won’t end up next. And you’re lonely enough that it doesn’t take long before you're not faking it, whether you want to believe it or not.

News Flash: You’re not very motherly at all, but by the time you’ve kindly handed Drayton his ass over whatever “woman’s work” he’d tried to give you for the last time it’s too late for him to take back his endorsements.

Bubba would kill his ass for one, and being so busy bothering you was actually slowing down all those episodes Chop Top always pretended not to have because of the war. So you stay, but Drayton thinks you’re one helluva con artist and you just tell him that it takes one to know one even though you never once sold him a lie.

You simply refuse to be “mammyfied” and that’s that.

Bubba is in love with your wardrobe almost as much as he is with you.

The first time he comes requesting you do one of your makeup looks — something more 70’s glamor for his tastes, even if it’s not a style you’d usually do — on a carefully carved out face mask, though, you pause.

It’s nearly a make or break aspect in your relationship, but if you accept this part of him (really accept it, enough to participate) then there’s no going back. No lying to yourself about just being a hostage or only acting out of duress every time you didn’t try running away or scream out to any of the Sawyer family’s victims before they were slaughtered.

When you do help out with the makeup for his mask Bubba sticks to you like glue the entire time. Part of it is just him liking to watch you work — and him wanting to study your process to (somewhat clumsily at first) recreate on his own later. The rest of the reason is that he’s so used to having his things messed with that he’s keeping an eye on you just in case, no matter how unlikely it is you’d steal from him or destroy his mask just to fuck with him.

It’s just— there was the drought, then the layoffs, then starvation, and his only family either died or got meaner. Bubba is destined to get defensive with you too sometimes, it’s not personal.

With trespassers it’s kind of personal though — refer back to the first couple bullet points.

If anyone on the goddamn planet is going to piss you off to no end it’s going to be Chop Top. Where Nubbins will accidentally mistake one of your scarves or washcloths for an oil rag, his twin will fuck your shit up or steal it completely on purpose.

Alternatively, every time Nubbins breaks or dirties something of yours without realizing he’s dismissive as hell about telling you it happened because he hates admitting he made a mistake, but he will try to give you a replacement taken off a victim or that he’s made in his version of an apology.

With Chop Top, though, you’ll see him wearing your shit one day and be too disgusted by whatever he’s done with it to want it back. And if it’d lead to anything good you’d strangle him again for his bullshit, but the last time you’d gone at one another’s throats you’d triggered him to the point of screaming nonsense while he held a knife to your throat and Bubba ended up breaking a table after throwing him into it while you recuperated on the ground.

So yeah, you don’t put your hands on each other anymore, but you definitely still cuss one another out on a regular basis.

The welts the edge of the blade left against the brown skin of your throat sent Bubba into so much distress that you vowed to stop trying to fight Chop Top just to never see that reaction from your partner again.

Bubba is the main cook in the house (the only other person who regularly touches the kitchen being the oldest of his brothers), and he is by no means bad at it outside of his tendency to get heavy-handed with his seasonings whenever he’s got some. However, you will not eat anything with meat in it from him (so long as you do eat meat) unless you watched an animal being put in there.

He finds this stipulation incredibly insulting at first, but you refuse to not draw the line there.

You paint flowers onto his kitchen apron to make up for his hurt and he forgives you pretty easily after though.

You have to make a hard distinction between what of your makeup he can use on his masks and what makeup he can or cannot share between you both that’s strictly for your own bare faces. The first time he’d asked to use some of your blush and you’d found him powdering a dead woman’s face you’d just about passed away yourself, and thus the rules swiftly followed.

Bubba always praises you whenever you get dolled up – in whatever way he sees fit: kissing your cheeks or the back of your hands, picking you flowers, twirling you around, clapping for you – but let any of his brothers make one comment on how pretty you look and he’s arguing with them.

At first Drayton cannot stand the scent of the flowers you or Bubba start bringing into the house and/or the perfume that you wear, but that’s only until he realizes how much better the scents were at making people stop at the shop. Add to that the lavender you planted keeping way more flies away and Drayton was convinced you were some kind of good luck charm. He’ll allow you this one win specifically despite how much he bitched about the smell beforehand (and the fact that he still thinks you’re one of the best liars he’s ever met).

The first time you help any of the Sawyers prep a dead animal they’re all surprised, but really you can only roll your eyes. Regardless of if you came with knowledge on how to properly kill and prep an animal to be eaten, or you diligently asked Bubba or Drayton to teach you, your appearance didn’t have shit to do with your actual ability to learn or have certain skills.

Drayton shockingly muttering that he thought you were just a delicate flower after you turn to him with a handful of guts in your hand is funny though.

Well, funny until Chop Top grabs the fist full of guts in your hand and motorboats them. You suck your teeth so hard as you watch him act a fool, eyes rolling, that Bubba stops cleaving to cast you a concerned look.

You’re either going to become a hardcore vegan or vegetarian or you're not, alright? I don’t make the rules of the universe. Outside of literal cannibalism most of the only other meat available is going to be the rare hunted animal or fresh-enough roadkill. Times are tough, but Drayton does want to start a garden now.

The only functioning fan in the whole house is in the room you share with Bubba (this doesn’t have anything to do with liking girly shit, you just refuse to be so hot all the time).

Instead of struggling with it for half an hour every time he’s in a more feminine headspace Bubba comes to you to tie on the silver bell bracelet he wears; you kiss his wrist whenever you’re finished.

Whenever you paint your nails you make sure to paint his too. You kiss each one of his fingers when you’re done, and he does the same to you while hard as a fucking rock and seconds away from begging to fuck you.

There isn’t a chance you’re ever going to try Drayton’s chili, no matter how fucking butt hurt he gets.

Whenever you cry, Bubba cries too.

Bubba definitely appreciates you helping him out. Whether being his assistant while he’s butchering or bringing him something to eat or just keeping him company so he doesn’t feel left out. Since it’s the kind of attention he for sure never gets from his brothers he cherishes it from you.

He will do nothing but stare at you if you sit down to do your makeup or otherwise get dolled up in any way, he can’t help himself. If you ask him to hand you something he’ll do it like he’s in a trance, he just likes seeing you come together like that and will be in awe. Blow him a kiss, he’ll blush.

Introduce him to ascots, I think he’d like them.

Whenever you wear your only pair of heels and your daisy dukes Bubba can’t keep his eyes off you, eyes glued to your black ass like it’s the second coming. You can’t help but tease him with the sway of your hips, it’s just too easy to coax those cute blushing looks out of him.

It’s only fair. The sight of him in his swim shorts always makes you go a little boy crazy too.

The “grandma” mask throws you off more than his others, especially considering he doesn’t wear it when he’s around you very often. He wears it when he’s cooking or doing more mundane house work (usually to contend himself with having to slip into the more “traditionally feminine” role his brothers refuse to), and if he’s not in his kitchen apron he wears an antique house dress that really makes him look like a little old lady from afar. You just watch him do it and keep him company. Whenever you try to help it kind of depends on his mood if he’ll let you. You’ll need to ask him where he wants you, don’t just guess.

Bubba teaches you how to whittle bones. He also most definitely gifts you some of the jewelry he makes out of his victim’s bones/teeth or gifts you stolen jewelry (and other things he thinks you might like) from the people he kills.

Bubba is chief decorator of the house mostly of his own accord. He wittles, strings things up, and builds all kinds of furniture out of bones and feathers and other miscellaneous things he finds that he thinks are pretty and is so calm while doing it you just sit down and watch him work with a little smile on your face.

He will 100% braid your hair (and is a quick study when you want it done a specific way) with yarn — which is easier to get than braiding hair where you are, or delicately twist decorative feathers and charms into your cornrows.

He massages oil into your scalp too and you always fall asleep with your head in his lap.

He does a lot of yard work also, so if you’re dedicated to spending a lot of time with him you will be outside often. He’s perfectly content with just having your company and your assistance here and there, but if you want to do more he won’t stop you outside of the really big jobs he has to do.

Sometimes you just dress up cutely in your overalls and boots and sit around looking pretty and soaking sun into your already sun-kissed skin for the whole day and he loves that about as much as you being his assistant. (You have sunscreen, it’s fine.)

Oftentimes you knit or sew (if you know how), but most often you’re reading a book or entertaining Bubba with anecdotes from one of the week's newspapers.

Bubba’s ass is strong. He can and will pick you up, and watching him swing a hammer borders on…overwhelming.

His clothes are the only ones you mend or help wash at all. You’re not a maid, but he respects your time and doesn’t demand it so you help him out because he’s your partner and you choose to. Also, blood stains are a bitch to get out (even when you leave them in the sun to “bleach” after washing) and Bubba gets covered in blood the most for the family so you’re not just going to leave him hanging.

“Leatherface” is lowkey a moniker that was created to taunt Bubba. The twins gave him the nickname after he started wearing his masks and it kind of stuck with everyone. You don’t use it just based off how Chop Top and Them tend to throw it in Bubba’s face whenever they’re irritated with him, but you will use the ambiguity of the moniker when talking about your chainsaw wielding partner to any trespassers and/or victims just to get them extra apprehensive.

When you got to the point where seeing him covered in blood started turning you on you spiraled a bit for sure. You kind of just embrace how aroused it makes you now though, and Bubba gets endlessly flattered.

You still wouldn’t have him any other way, really. Or the rest of his fucked up, irritating family. Even Grandpa (though you do still avoid him like the plague even when you're helping Bubba care for and feed him).

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!🧡

Honestly, after Chromeskull, Bubba is probably my favorite slasher. Anyway, this was fun! I’ll also definitely write more of these at some point too!

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

[villainology]

MDNI pure filth talk below (slight dubcon, degradation, johnny being the bully he is) — Johnny (TCM) okay listen, I just wanted to talk about his cock and how good he fucks you w it <3

johnny is the type of guy to have a nice thick bush that he very occasionally trims, its hairs creeping up his belly and stopping just at his abs, perfectly accenting his sweaty muscles when he’s out in the summer heat working on some cars.

he’s definitely packing at least 7” without a doubt, nice and long, super girthy, veiny, and he even got that slight curve. he’s got that type of girth that makes you hiss through your teeth and whimper every time he bullies his way into your tight hole — it doesn’t even matter how much he bothers to warm you up, you’re still gonna feel the way he stretches you out around him inch by inch.

of course, he loves that though. he relishes in the way you push at his shoulders and try to slide away from him, telling him it’s too much and he’s too big for you :( he doesn’t really care though, leaning down and whispering in your ear yeah that’s right, take it, just take it, darlin’. he always buries himself as deep as he can not even caring if it’s too much for it, his goal is to be balls deep in you every time.

he has two moods when it comes to fucking you, either he only cares about his own pleasure and is using you as a glorified fleshlight (you’ll still come anyway, his dick is just too good) OR he’s gonna torture you with pleasure. the type to not let you come for the longest time, bullying you and degrading you the entire time, calling you pathetic and crybaby when the tears roll down your cheeks and you’re laid begging for him!! once he finally lets you have your release then all he’s gonna do is overstimulate you, he just really loves to see you cry. he’ll occasionally praise you but mostly it’ll be him being a big meanie to you, he knows you and your body too well by now, he knows everything to do to make your toes curl and to have you screaming his name.

[sinsofbeauty]

Drama

Fandom: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Game

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Stalking

Requested?: Yes!

A/n: These Headcanons/Imagines are AU based, where Johnny is biologically part of the Slaughter family and went to Highschool! Written in a slight fanfic format! Enjoy, remember requests are open!!

• Johnny wasn’t someone you knew straight from childhood. You saw him around the school grounds but not much to which you or him had spoken to each other. You didn’t really know the boy until High School.

• He was in your English class at the desk right in front of you against the wall, always looking out the window instead of paying attention to the lessons. Feet on his desk with arms crossed, or leaning on his elbows with no care in the world. Though surprisingly, he always answered questions correctly when called upon and aced his tests like the answers were placed right in front of him.

• “Hey, ya’ have a pencil I can borrow?” Was the first interaction the two of you officially made. It was awkward, being that you were an introverted art kid and he was a popular greaser. His head tilted back, looking at you upside down as his dominant hand gestures like he’s writing.

• From that moment forward he would ask you for a pencil every day before the beginning of class. It made you wonder why he just didn’t have his own school supplies, and it would lowkey get on your nerves.

• “Johnny is it? Is there a reason you can’t get your own pencils?” You ask scrounging for another in your messy pouch.

• “Why would I do that when the cutie behind me has all I need?” He said with the tilt of his head as you handed him the borrowed pencil.

• Honestly, you never thought you would be involved with one of the hottest guys in school. Like… every girl had their eyes on him, and that meant every girl who even had the tiniest crush on Johnny… had eyes on you.

• In the classroom you would often get stares or watch people talk in hushed whispers when you entered. Even out of his presence you seemed to be a target of drama. Rumors weren’t far from the catch, yet it would be a while before you actually heard one for yourself.

• Lunch was another story. Usually it was just you sitting with your small group of friends, while Johnny was rowdy with his buddies across the cafeteria. It’s not like the food was all that good, but you would like to enjoy your food in peace sometimes without having to escape to the art room.

• Though after some time of talking, Johnny would make his way over to your table to flirt with you… and the rest of your friends that sat with you. They suspected that he was trying to get close to you probably because they have a crush on one of them, which made you roll your eyes. You didn’t really care, well… not at that moment at least.

• Johnny Slaughter was the name you eventually found out from one of your close friends. Charming, Flirtatious, and Mysterious. When he wasn’t hyping up his group of friends with his character, he would often find himself in the weight room… or watching you in the art room.

• After school activities are where your free time is spent if not with family or doing homework. A friendly relationship with your teacher allowed you to gain access to the room alone after school if you asked her for permission. Your creativity was spent writing, reading, drawing, or simply catching up on assignments. However you didn’t realize you had eyes on you, watching after school hours. Walking home was the same. You didn’t have a car and your home wasn’t too far, so it was often spent quiet, with the horrid Texas heat on some days.

• One day, Johnny had actually started to take you home. Hopping in his truck on a humid afternoon was like water to a dehydrated throat. You were grateful, yet suspicious. He was acting way too nice lately, strangely specific tasks like taking you home or carrying your books to English class when it looked too heavy.

• Surely, it wasn’t because of the recent morning announcements about Prom coming up… right?

[scnderlands]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝒩𝒮𝐹𝒲 𝒜𝐿𝒫𝐻𝒜𝐵𝐸𝒯 — j.slaughter

warnings + tags — MINORS / AGELESS BLOGS DNI, female reader, mentions of sex, dacryphilia, blood kink, non-con kink, knife play, johnny slaughter being johnny slaughter, typical nsfw things

authors notes — I’ve been wanting to do an alphabet for some of the tcm characters forever, so why not kick it off with a dirty little johnny post? this is all for fun and games, so if you don’t agree w anything, that’s okay <3 I might make some more n/sfw alphabets if people want, too (also let’s pretend I’m not uploading this at 6am).

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

at first he wasn’t exactly understanding of aftercare, he was used to just fucking and leaving, you know, the whole family business. but once he got with you, you taught him what aftercare actually was and it became one of him favourite things — he’d actually look forward to it, not that he’d tell you that. the idea of holding you close to him, all sweaty and panting, both of you more relaxed than you ever could be, enjoying the silence and the come down from your shared high. what could be better?

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his favourite body part of yours is definitely your ass and thighs, doesn’t matter whether they’re big or small, he just loves the soft parts of your body. he loves squeezing them, slapping them, biting them, laying on them — whatever, he is just borderline obsessed with them. but in all honesty, every single part of your body is his favourite, he’s just so into you that he can barely contain himself.

his favourite part of himself is his arms and hands, his muscular biceps and large hands make him feel manly and give him extra confidence, plus when he’s choking someone, seeing his hands or arms cover them completely kinda gets him going. plus he knows how much you love those parts of him, and that makes him like himself just that little bit more.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he’s filthy when it comes to his cum, he’ll have it everywhere — he’ll cum on your face, your ass, in your mouth, and even forcing it into your cunt and breeding you like you deserve. he claims you as his and him having his cum in you or all over you just cements that fact. it tastes a little salty but mostly just normal, he likes to think he has a “good” diet just for your taste.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

johnny is a dirty little panty stealer, especially dirty panties. any time you’re showering or have gotten changed, he’ll pick up a pretty pair and shove it into his pocket, and he’ll act completely innocent when you ask if he’s seen them anywhere — he’ll just claim he probably ripped them to shreds when he fucked you, or threw them behind something accidentally. he loves smelling them while he’s masturbating (which isn’t often) but when he really misses you, then it just brings him that much closer to you. he has a secret little stash of them in his shack, tucked away in the back of a drawer, all different colours and styles just for his pleasure.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

no surprise but he is pretty damn experienced, but in the beginning he only really fucked for his own pleasure, not really caring about the other person. but when he got you, then all he wanted was to hear you moaning, to hear his name tumbling from your pretty lips. so he focused on and used everything he knew best, and of course he listened and learnt what you enjoyed — he basically became a god of fucking you, knowing everything that made you break, the things that made you quiver and come without him barely touching you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

surprisingly, missionary is his favourite, mostly because he likes seeing your face while he’s fucking you, having his hands wrapped around your throat or pinning your hands above your head. there’s something intimate about the simplicity of missionary and he loves that. but he enjoys mixing it up a little, missionary that turns into a mating press, and whatnot.

his second favorite is doggy, but because he loves ass, and it makes it easy to wrap his arm around your neck and pull you back into his chest. a secret favourite as well is forcing you into the full nelson, because what wouldn’t be enjoyable about that?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he’s more serious but it’s because he gets lost in the moment, he’s so concentrated on making you come that he doesn’t really take the moment to be more relaxed. but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to laugh and joke on during it, he’ll often say things that makes you chuckle, especially when he’s being “sweet” — but he doesn’t make a habit to go out of his way to make a joke unless it’s to lighten the mood after an intense session.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

johnny is pretty well groomed, he often shaves his armpits and trims his pubes, mostly because of the hot weather so he likes to keep it shorter but also because he feels more comfortable. he definitely leaves hair down there though, and grows out his happy trail because he knows he looks good with it. and of course he leaves the little bit of chest hair he has. all of his hair is jet black, and pretty thick and straight.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he can sometimes be nice and loving, slow and romantic. whispering sweet nothings into your ear, pumping in and out of you deeply, just showing how he loves you. but of course he has the moments, which is more likely, where he fucks you hard and rough, using you for his own pleasures. it all depends on the moment, the day, and his mood, but expect a bit of everything from him. but johnny has his own ways of intimacy, his own way of showing his love and being what he thinks is romantic, even if he is being rough the entire time.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he rarely jacks off, instead he prefers having sex with you to relieve himself, but on the off times he does need to jack off, then he has specific things he’ll do. like stated he’ll sniff your panties or look at polaroids of naked pictures you took for him, picturing you riding him and moaning for him. he’ll edge himself a lot, too, your name always rolling off his tongue when he moves his hand nice and slow up and down his cock. other times he wants it over quickly, locking himself in the bathroom and fucking his hand hard and fast, just needing to come and get it over with so he can get back to his busy schedule.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

blood kink — need I say more? he loves eating and tasting people, and your blood is something that he loves tasting, especially when he’s balls deep inside of you. there’s something so intimate about licking the blood trickling down your neck and making love to you at the same time, something so intimate about sharing something like blood with each other. he also loves having you taste his, whether it’s from biting his lip or even just licking his wound when he accidentally cuts himself.

knife kink — again, a pretty obvious one, the man who walks around with a knife and cuts people up basically for a living? he likes the way you flinch under the cool steel of his blade, cutting your clothes off your body with it, leaving lines and marks on you. he’ll cut you if you let him, not deep enough to scar, but enough to get a little blood from you, two kinks for the price of one.

non-con kink — he loves having his way with you, especially when you’re begging him to stop or when you’re whimpering and crying. of course he doesn’t hurt you, instead he pleasures until you can’t take it anymore, until you want it to stop but he just won’t. sometimes he’ll grab you from behind when you least expect it, blindfold and gag you, tie you up and fuck you senseless.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

he’s a simple man with simple pleasures, taking you on a bed or the sofa in his shack is good enough for him, anything with soft padding for him and you to be comfortable. but sometimes he likes to mix it up, fucking you in a victims car or bending you over a table in his mothers house and having his way with you. it depends on his mood like usual, it doesn’t matter where it is as long as he gets to cum in you — but he does have a preference for the risky areas, the outdoor places where you have the chance to be caught, or even just places where he didn’t bother locking the door.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

he’s a pretty simple man so a lot of things you do turn him on, it can be as simple as seeing you all warm and bothered on a hot summers day or seeing you bend over picking something up off the floor. but some other things are a little meaner, like seeing you cry when you’re upset or when you’re annoyed with him and you pout all cute like. his favourite thing though, is when you’re angry or really upset, shouting at him, pushing him away or pounding on his chest to get him away — that instantly sends the blood to his cock.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

there isn’t much he wouldn’t do, or at least there isn’t really any hard no’s. but he isn’t a fan of threesomes, he doesn’t like the idea of anyone else touching you, pleasing you — he knows he’s enough for you and you’re enough for him, so why would you want to invite someone else into the bedroom? as for turn offs, there isn’t really many, something might turn his off once because of his mood or just how he’s feeling on that day but then it might not the next time.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

just like most people, he loves recieving and seeing you on your knees, especially when you’re choking and gagging on him. but he absolutely loves going down on you, he loves to pleasure you and anything that gets you moaning his name, he loves. he’s really good at it too, he was already good before he met you but he’s learnt exactly what gets you going, and god knows he can work miracles with that tongue of his. there are times he’ll go down on you for the sake of it, not even expecting it to be foreplay for sex. he’ll just push you up against something and drop to his knees, pushing your panties to the side and eating you out, then he’ll just go about the rest of his day like normal after making you come on his face.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he goes between fast and rough and slow and sensual, but most of the time he likes it fast and rough. throwing you about and using you as a glorified fleshlight and making you come at his will is just too much to pass up. when he’s been more romantic or sensual, he likes to have you in missionary, his head buried in the crook of your neck where his moans and sighs are slightly muffled, and he can just push his cock into you nice and slowly.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

as much as he loves taking his time with you, he loves a good old fashioned quickie, bending you over some car or throwing you up against a wall when he needs to relieve himself. he’s worse with it when he’s had a bad day and something has annoyed him, he’ll practically hunt you down just to fuck you. he doesn’t have quickies every day, but it’ll be at least one or twice every couple of days.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

johnny is completely down for taking risks, fucking you in easily caught places and places that are pretty dangerous — the most noticeable place being near his mothers house, or even inside, he’ll drag you off somewhere when you’re visiting her and have his way with you then act like nothing happened when you can barely walk. he loves to experiment with you, too, after all he has some pretty out there kinks that you didn’t exactly like or ever think about trying, but he respects if you have hard no’s — he’s a lot more caring than he pretends to be.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

not so surprisingly, he has a lot of stamina, and can go a whole bunch of rounds, but usually he’ll tap out after two, or a very long session. he enjoys having multiple sessions throughout the day rather than all at once, because then he can burn off all that energy and anger he gets during the day. during a usual session, foreplay included, it’ll last around 45 minutes to an hour — after all, he really loves taking his time with you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

so he’s pretty hit and miss with toys, he didn’t exactly like them at first. he was kinda insulted when you brought up the idea of having a vibrator / when he found yours, because he took it that he wasn’t good enough for you and that you clearly needed to have something else make you come. after you finally convinced him to just use it on you during sex, his entire world lit up. watching how easy it was to have you a quivering, blubbering, sniveling mess sent blood rushing straight to his cock — and now a lot of the time, especially during longer sessions, he’ll use it on you to tease or give his hand a little bit of a break if he needs it. he also loves making you use it on yourself while he watches, sometimes wanking himself off while you make yourself come.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he’s a huuuuge tease, loves to edge you for as long as he can, it’s even better if he gets you to the edge of coming on a morning then he can leave for the day — but he tells you not to touch yourself, because he’ll know — sometimes he’ll even “check” during the day to make sure you haven’t made yourself come. if you’ve been good for him then he won’t tease you for too long, but it’s rare he goes a day without teasing you just a little bit. he just loves hearing you whimper and beg for him, and he gets off on being the only one that can make you come.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

johnny grunts and cusses a lot during sex, or even when you’re just teasing / going down on him. he has no issue being vocal anymore, although he was a lot quieter when you first got together. now he’s completely fine with moaning into your ear, and he actually loves moaning your name, he doesn’t even care who hears — he likes you knowing how good you make him feel, plus he knows how much it turns you on having him moaning and cussing when he’s deep inside you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

okay I’ve said it a million times, and I’ll say it a million more, he’s actually really sweet to you, and treats you like an angel. at first he’d be a little mean, still saying things that would hurt your feelings or just scaring you by him being him — but once you’d been dating awhile, he’s the “hurt them and I kill you” type guy, the one that’ll kill for you, the one that’ll die for you. he’s so wrapped around your little finger it’s almost unbelievable, he’s so in love that he’d do nearly anything you ask — but he’s only like that when you’re alone, for the most part. when you’re around other people he’s super possessive and lets others know who you belong to, always having a hand around your waist or yanking you into the most sexually fuelled kiss when someone talks to you for too long. nonetheless, he’d protect you with his life and is actually really sweet, in his own way, of course.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

okay he’s got a pretty huge dick, it’s 7”-7.5”, and it’s girthy as all hell, to the point he needs to warm you up a lot before even thinking about trying to push himself into you. he’s not cut, and he’s got a big fat vein that runs along the underside of his cock and it’s super sensitive around there, too. the closer to the tip of his cock, the more reddish purple it turns, especially when he’s hard. oh and let’s not forget, he’s got big, heavy balls as well.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

he’s ridiculously horny, that man has a crazy sex drive and it was kinda hard to keep up with at first. he has a naturally high one anyway but it’s made worse by his obsession with you — he needs to be in you constantly, filling you, making you his. as soon as he wakes up he’s there being needy, he’s the exact same at night when you’re going to bed. and don’t be surprised if he doesn’t pull you round the back of a shack to fuck you during the day, too.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

johnny falls asleep instantly, there’s not a single thought behind that man’s eyes. and it’s made even worse when he tires himself out fucking you senseless a good few rounds before finishing — he’s the type that as soon as his head hits the pillow, he’s passed out snoring, mouth open, twitching and kicking you all night. or sometimes he’s just so still that you’re not sure he’s alive anymore, just perfectly motionless, couldn’t even be woken up by the end of the world.

[xxcocothekillerxx]

Behind Locked Doors

Pairing: Johnny slaughter x FemReader

Summary: Y/N recently moved into a somewhat small town, Newt, In Texas with her father. Y/N's father thought this would be a good opportunity for them, since things got rough back in California. Little do they know the trouble that awaited them..

!!THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS NSFW!! Warning: This series will contain 18+ content & material! NSFW situations and possibly TRIGGERING topics such as- Depression, stalking, blood & gore, manipulation, mention of kidnapping and small amounts of self-harm, such as scars/cuts.

{{ Please proceed with care if you're sensitive to ANY of these topics }}

Author's Note: This is my first time really writing NSFW stories / stories in general. Tips and tricks on how to improve my writing and overall layout are welcome, though keep it respectful please. Other than that please enjoy! 💋

Chapter 6: Blood

  ‘The smell of death loomed over-head as you sat on the thin mattress that laid over a rusted metal frame, its old tattered sheets barely protecting your bruised and beaten body from the coldness of the room. You Dusted off the covers as you looked around the room that held you in this hell, the wooden door staring at you almost tauntingly. Your body felt weak and tired as your eyes tumbled to look at your arms, your own blood crusted against your skin. Mold and cracks littered the walls as the air almost felt heavy in your lungs as your fingers gripped the sheets tighter to your chest, the metal frame creaking and moaning as you struggled to lift yourself off the bed. Your mind only drew blanks as you slowly made your way towards the wooden door, the brown wood barely visible between the multiple scratches and splinters that litter the door. You could feel your stomach twist and turn as you had horrific thoughts that others once got trapped in here..Though it was more unfortunate for them. You had a small, faded hope as you lifted your right hand to the rusted door-knob, seeing the hole that ran through your palm made you want to break down. You slowly started to twist the door-knob, a hope starting to become louder and louder as it wasn’t yet stopping itself.. ‘It’s not locked?’ ..You thought in your now racing mind, did Johnny want you to escape? Was it a trap or cruel joke? Your tired broken mind couldn’t help but think Johnny really did care about you still, that he wasn’t a murderous monster like the rest of his ‘family’, yet.. Even as you felt the door-knob click in between your fingers, the feeling of freedom still felt extremely far from here.’ Your (Color) eyes watched as the door creaked slowly open, pushing its wooden frame quietly with your shoulder. Goosebumps growing over your skin as you forgot your torn clothing, your Black Two-Pocket Polo Shirt that now had knife cuts just underneath your chest, exposing the nude colored bra under it. Your dark red frayed jeans were now missing a pant-leg as it was torn off, most likely by the crazy animal of a man from before. His beady eyes and ear to ear broken smile still haunted your brain as you crouched down and started to exit the room, your heart racing and pounding with your chest. You didn’t really take a moment to look around until now, your gaze widening as it was met with red lights and blood splatter across parts of the wall. Your brain couldn’t process it yet you hoped to god it was just a really large pig as you looked at someone hanging by their arms in the far end of the room, you studied their blank lifeless face and as much as it still sickened you to look at the poor person you were slightly relieved as it was no one you knew. 

 However your gaze looked around the rest of the red room, buckets of blood, dirt piles and scattered tools across shelves greeted your eyes as you slowly walked through what felt like a maze, your mind still foggy as the bruises and bleeding scratches made your body unbearably sore and weak. Yet you continued, you needed too.. For them, TOO find them. You wanted to escape this hellish place, although your heart hurt knowing Johnny and whoever hell rested in this devilish home wouldn’t let you. 

 The sound of a foot-step from behind you made your eyes grow wide, nearly popping out of your skull as you swung around to either run or at least not die like a coward. Tears started to fill your eye sockets as your lip trembled. “C-Connie” You whispered out to her, never being so happy to see that red hair you were all too familiar with. Connie quickly hushed you even though she herself wanted to clearly rush over to you, a soft faded smile across her lips as she got closer to you and gently placed a hand onto your shoulder as if you tell not only herself but you that this was real. “Oh..Y/N i’m so happy..” Connie whispered to you, tears starting to fill her own eyes before she quickly took your hand in hers to run somewhere, anywhere.. Her eyes shot wide as she felt the hole in your hand with her thumb, Stopping her retreat to look back towards you and your wounds that she unfortunately didn’t notice until this second. Connie, the sweet soul that she is, took out a bandages she managed to find among the clutter. “Let’s hope this somewhat works huh?..” She quietly joked as she sat you gently against the wall, occasionally looking both ways down the hall she put the two of you in. Gently Connie started to wrap your hands, being sure to not put too much pressure onto your palms but enough to keep them from possibly bleeding anymore then they already have. A soft smile creeped onto your lips as you watched selflessly help you, a determined glint in her locked gaze with your wounds. “I..I missed you..” You whispered through broken whimpers and tears, you could tell your words both hurt and gave her hope as her brows furrowed downwards as she held back tears of her own. Her green eyes shoot up to you to see any signs of discomfort, her pale skin and fiery hair being the only clean and bright thing in the room. That was until she spoke words that made your heart scream with hope and joy. “Sonny and Ana are waiting for us around the corner” Her voice soft but obviously quiet and she stood up and gave you a hand, your heart started to sink however as you remembered Leland.. The thud of his body hitting the floor as Johnny stepped over him. The thought made you slightly freeze which in return made Connie look at you with a worried expression, still trying to slowly tug you along. “What’s wrong Y/N?..” Your eyes darted up to her as your lips parted to speak

!!BANG!! 

The sound of a door slamming open and rushing foot-steps down the nearby stair made you lose your thought as Connie's eyes widened before letting you finish anything and quickly pulled you along. Running hurts.. It hurt like hell actually, your thighs burned with each step but you had too as you heard that all too familiar voice.. “Find’em!...” That beaver smile flashed within your mind as you already knew who it was. Drayton and two other footsteps… one bigger than the other. Johnny? No.. it couldn’t be with how loud it was compared to the other set of foot-step, however you had no time to think as you heard the roar of a chainsaw and connie rushing you around the corner where Sonny and Ana happily smiled but soon themselves started to rush towards a blue sliding door. “Do you have it unlocked yet?” Connie said in a loud whisper, Sonny quickly nodded while Ana was already sliding the blue door open. There was no time for you to hug or enjoy their time right now as Ana was the first one climbing the ladder, being the eyes for the three of you as she made sure the coast was clear. The sound of the raging chainsaw started to only grow closer and louder.. You could hear its rotating blade being bashed against walls as if they were running, ‘who runs with a chainsaw?’ you pondered for a moment before you felt connie usher you to the ladder. You bit your lip in pain as you gripped onto the ladder, your hands barely strong enough to hold the bars as you struggled to pull yourself up the ladder. The chainsaw now louder than before as you crawled up and out of the hole..

“AHHH!!” Your gaze widened at the horrific scream, the sound of a chainsaw tearing through flesh and the sound of blood splattering across the walls under you. Your body shook uncontrollably before, what felt like hours, your head turned to look down the ladder. It felt like a stop motion film.. Expect slower as you finally see her. Connie’s tear filled gaze as blood trickled down from her pink lips, her hand still gripping onto the ladder you just got out from. The blade of a chainsaw ran straight through her stomach as its engine rumbled, her green gaze fading as her head started to limp back and her hand dropping from the bar of the ladder. “CONNIE!!” you heard Sonny scream in horror, Ana now desperately tugging at your arm to get you to move. Yet nothing came, you felt your mind run numb as your body seemed like a sack of rocks. Her face going pale haunts your gaze as you watch a face covered by what looks to be leather or..skin, peek out, his large from now towering over Connie's lifeless body. Carelessly sliding her off of the blade of the chainsaw, your eyes followed her body as it hit the floor. You wanted to vomit, cry, scream.. Everything but yet you could do nothing as you gaze now met with the man, his eyes darken behind his skin like mask as he stared at you from the bottom of the ladder. His messy short dark brown hair and blood cover mask as you watched him lick his lips. He looked like he was wearing a butcher's outfit with a random blue tie, the bright yellow apron that was now covered and stained in red. 

 Ana screamed at you to move through tears in her own eye, managing to at least make you stand up. Yet your eyes couldn’t leave the eyes of the man who just murdered your best friend, you stood there for what felt like eternity as the world seemed to grow dark around you. Ringing came flooding your ears as Ana gave one last final tug on your arm, making you stumble backwards before turning to run yourself. Everything fell blurry as you followed Ana, your vision focused on her brown hair as the wind ran wildly through it, her bright blue shirt the only color you can see other than crimson red. Sonny himself quickly ran ahead of the both of you towards a gate,  his yellow striped shirt and brown frayed jeans making him appear like the sun itself as he ran. Ana’s grip on your hand loosened as she catched up to Sonny, not knowing the wound you had that made it difficult to run. Breathing started to seem impossible as they got farther and farther away, the ringing in your ear becoming louder and louder as the images of Connie flashed through your mind quicker and quicker. A part of you wanted to fall to the ground and cry, while the other part kept your legs up as you ran, the tears staining your cheeks as it seemed Ana and Sonny looked so far away. You saw Ana turn around to see if you were still there, however something about her face seemed off.. Her eyes seemed wide like she was scared of you. You couldn’t hear what she was saying as you watched her lips part into a yell, her hand reaching out. It felt as if the sun disappeared as a shadow formed around you, a figure behind you..before you could even turn around you felt a hand cover your mouth, you couldn’t fight it, even if you wanted to as you felt another hand tightly wrap around your waist to pick you up. Ana’s face turned to fear and anger as you saw her sprint towards you.. Yet everything went so slowly. 

 Your body was tired and weak to the point you didn’t think you cared what happened anymore. The last thing you saw before your eyes fully shut close was Ana running towards you and Sonny turning to see what happened… as a shorter man running towards them from some bushes next to them, his baggy green shirt the last color you saw before everything went black. ‘You woke up covered in blood, your bare skin splattered in it as you hastily looked around. Your (Color) eyes being greeted with nothing but darkness that surrounded you, you went to run in any direction but your feet wouldn’t move as you lifted your hands up to look at them.. Your wounds are still there as blood seems to start leaking from your palms. Yet you felt no pain here, you felt lighter and free almost as you felt drops of liquid hit your shoulders, you gaze darting to see the color of crimson drip from your shoulders and down the length of your arms like a cruel shower. You tried taking in a deep breath, no scent followed as your lungs filled with darkness. No pleasure or familiarity came from the air as you turned your head… that same.. ‘Light’ from before seemed to start forming in the distance, the same warmth you felt a long time ago flew past and against your skin. The smell..the smell of cookies started to fill your nose as your once stuck feet began to finally move, each step seemed like home again. You remember one time your father was in the kitchen. His cartoonish glasses sitting near the tip of his nose as he smiled at you, patting you on top of the head as you tried sneaking cookies from the plate next to him every second he was looking at you. Your tiny fingers trying to reach the top of the counter for that delicious baked good, yet even when you were on your tippy-toe you still couldn’t reach them. The thought made a smile softly grace your lips as you got closer to the slit of light again, ‘was this all just a dream… dad are you home?’ The thought crossed your mind as you weakly reached your hand out to the calm light, your finger barely touching it as you thought of waking up in your bed with your dad downstairs cooking dinner.’

 Your eyes, blurry still, started to open slowly as they landed onto the ceiling above you, screaming colors you didn’t recognize before, the warm feeling you felt before was the sun rays that hit your skin through a window. The warmth of the sun made your lips curl into a soft weak smile as your eyes opened more fully now, your eyes studying the ceiling for a moment. The hope of being at home or a hospital quickly left your mind as you started to look around the room from a much softer bed, its red sheet covering you softly as a pillow steady your head. You wanted to get up but your body was still too weak to move, everything felt unreal as the past hours felt gone..blank almost. As you study the room, red faded out wall-paper covers the room with worn out wooden floor-boards. Small pictures of people you didn’t recognize and license-plates littered the walls along with shelves that held a variety of knives and other tools. Then you saw him.. Your heart sinking into your guts, the feeling of anger and hope filled your mind as you saw him stand by the window. His arms crossed over his chest as he stared blankly out the window. His familiar brown gaze and pale skin being lighted up by the sunrays the glisence through the window, still wearing the same clothes you saw him in plenty of times before. You didn’t want to move, let alone say anything to get his attention.. Yet your body seemed against you as a painful shock went throughout your body causing you to let out a hurt whimper. 

 Johnny’s head turned over towards you and met your gaze, a soft smile wiping across his lips as you watched him slowly walk over to your bedside. “Morning sunflower…” His words made your brow twitch in anger yet the wave of something familiar also hit you, maybe you could convince him..Those thoughts quickly vanished however as you felt Johnny gently sit on the bed next to you, taking his yellow gloves off and setting them on the nightstand next to the bed. His eyes searched yours, darting around your face as if he just found something he lost for years.. His hand hesitated for a second before his fingers found their way to your hair, gently rubbing through you (Color) hair. His face lacked an expression as he seemed hesitant to speak, an almost shameful glint in his eyes as he looked down at you. “I-...I’m so sorry Y/N..” Johnny whispered softly into the air, still stroking your hair before his hand slid down to your cheek to cup your face. You saw his brows furrow like he was actually sorry for everything, your heart fluttered for a moment as you wanted to just forget. Your name rolling off his tongue so effortlessly made you just want to cry into his chest, however the flashes of Connie's body hitting the ground flashed into your brain, causing you to sit upright in the bed and smack Johnny’s hand away from your face. Your eyes wide with anger before you felt the same sharp pain in your side, making you quickly grab your rib in pain and your face contort in pain. A harsh cough ran through your throat as you watched yourself spit blood onto your forearm, the red making your eyes wide in fear. You felt Johnny shift as he grabbed a glass of water from the same night stand he set his gloves on, doing his best to bring the cool glass to your hesitant lips. “Please just drink…” he pleaded, a worried look on his face. You didn’t want to believe he cared… not after what his family did to Connie, like it was nothing. What he possibly did to Leland.. It only made you more angry, yet you still took a sip of the water. If you wanted to get out of this place you had to regain your strength. After you sipped the water Johnny set it back down on the nightstand before shifting himself to be right in front of you, his arms being now either side of you and he slightly positioned himself between your legs. His eyes looked sad while his face seemed almost void of anything else except focus on you, a few strands of his hair fell over his forehead in a slight mess as he brought himself closer to you. This made you instinctually lean back from him as you did every to not rock him in the face, yet you couldn’t help but look into his eyes and see actual regret. It made your lip tremble in frustration as you wanted answers. “I didn’t want to hurt you..” He paused, his eyes drifting down to the blanket that covered your lap. You felt almost shocked as you watched tears form in his eyes, you didn’t think you’d ever see him cry. “I..p-please sunflower..” He started to almost beg, it almost pained your heart to watch him cry even through the raging anger you felt you wanted to reach out to hold his face.. But you didn’t. 

 “They killed my best friend!..” Your voice felt weak but it was clear in tone, the anger you felt inside you as you already lost two of your best friends, the pain in Johnny's eye seems to only increase at your words as they relocked with your gaze. Actual tears now dripped down his cheeks which took you by surprise, his furrowed brows as if he was angry about it himself. He looked as if he was trying to find the correct words to say to you, the right movements to not seem like a monster in your eyes. “I-I didn’t want them too.. Ple-ase sunflower believe me..” His words were broken as he inched closer to you, leaving barely an inch between you. You wanting to run, scream anything to just get out of this fucking place.. “I’ve been trying to keep you safe… from them.” He explained through tears in whatever desperate attempt he was making to maybe please your mind. Your heart ached at his words.. Knowing what happened to Connie, to Leland. The dark void in his face when he stepped over Leland’s body towards you, the look this ‘family’ has as they killed them… Ana and Sonny flashed through your mind, that crazy skinny monster rushing at them from a bush as they ran to you. All these thoughts rushing through your head made it so you didn’t feel Johnny sliding his hand over yours, his finger creating circles around on the top part of your hand over the newly wrapped bandages. “Wh…why” was the only word you could muster out as you looked helplessly into his face, searching his eyes for anything as a last chance for normalcy from him. 

 Your words seemed to stick to Johnny, his teary eyes slightly widening as he stared at you as if he was remembering something similar. “I..” He seemed to stiffen at the question, his hand unintentionally tightening around your hand which made you wince in pain. A pain in his eyes as he stared blankly towards you, the silence however was short lived as you felt yourself get grabbed and pulled in closer. His arms wrapped around you tightly as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, his finger gently yet firmly digging into your back as he held you. “I won’t do the same thing to you… not again, not like her...” He promised into the neck as you felt his tears start to soak your shirt. ‘Her?’ you thought.. However before you can ponder his words you feel his lips meet yours in a sloppy embrace, his lips cold yet warm and filled with lost passion. A kiss that felt disgusting yet hopeful all in one, your body stiffening and froze as he tried deepening the kiss. One of his hands slid up from your waist as you sat, up to your cheek to hold you even closer. Every feeling you had seemed to vanish, yet the feeling of his lips seemed to bring a strange feeling to your chest. You slightly leaned into the kiss, his taste bringing you back to the couch..The care and passion he gave to you then made your mind forget for a moment and Johnny seemed to notice this a he now let his tongue dance with yours, his eyes squeezing shut as he let himself enjoy this kiss with you. You felt his fingers slightly claw at your cheek before snaking their way to the back of your head, gently grabbing a fist full of you (Color) hair.. His tenderness makes you forget of the dangerous situation you were in, the horrific memories that haunted your brain. You wanted to feel sane again, normal.. Like when you baked the cookies for him, the little box you put them in that day for him. You wanted to kiss back in hopes it would bring you back to that night, and it just so happened you just fell asleep together… But you knew this wasn’t the case, the pain in your body reminded you of that.

 Johnny pulled away from the kiss for only a moment to look you in the eyes, “let.. Let me make it up to you, sunflower..” He pleaded, his words soft as he took your lips once again. Using his hand that still gently gripped onto your hair to lay you back, flipping the sheets off of you to let his other hand roam your side. It felt like a dream as your brows furrowed, leaning more into the kiss as maybe after this you two can escape this place… find your friends and leave. Maybe he was trapped here let you, you let yourself not think as his hands started to explore your body. His fingertips gliding down your ribs and over your bruises, making their way to the button of your jeans. Soft pleated grunts rumbled from his throat between your lips, he enjoyed the feeling of you again as he gently slid your jeans off. The warm air hitting your skin felt calming and like home, it was overwhelming although each touch he placed was soft and gentle.. He knew how much you were in pain and each touch felt calm and soft just for you as his lips soon made their way to your neck, trailing soft and gentle kisses down the side of your neck as he used one of his legs to spread your thighs apart. You let out a soft whimper which Johnny sweetly hushed you for against your collarbone, You felt him pressed his growing arousal against you which only sent shivers up your spine.

 “I missed you sunflower..” Johnny whispered against your throat, his hand going to unbutton his jeans as he parted his lips to nip at your neck. Your hands quickly found their way around his broad shoulders as each bite his left made you forget more and more, Johnny started to pull her jeans off in an almost haphazard fashion as he finally freed himself. His length landing onto your lower stomach sent a jolt through you, Johnny biting a little bit more harshly onto your neck this time in a possessive way as he grabbed onto his length and moved it so it sat at your core. Your breathing started to increase like the last time and oh did Johnny notice, it made him almost chuckle on your neck, his teeth still digging into you as he ready himself to slide inside. 

 Gently, more gentle than Johnny ever was.. As if he was a different person, slowly enter into your core. The feeling of you around him shot a jolt through him making his hips twitch forward, though he did his best to keep it slow as he didn’t want to hurt you with your situation. “Fu..fuck i really have missed you..” Johnny muttered into your ear, being as gentle as possible as he slid himself fully inside you. Your foggy brain made you forget where you were, the feeling of Johnny made you forget everything as in this moment you felt safe…comfortable, and even at home. His gentleness made you only crave this moment to last longer, your nails digging into his shoulders as he took you there on the bed. Tears trickled down your cheek with joy as you kissed him once again, the taste of his lips and the smell letting you relax. Your soft broken moans into his ear made him crave you more as he slid his hands down to your hips to pull himself deeper into you, making you feel closer to him with each thrust. “I’ll never let them hurt you..” He mutters in between breaths, “You’re mine sunflower..Not theirs, Not his..” he growled before sinking his teeth into the other side of your neck, his words didn’t fully make sense to you as your brain was too focused on him as you both started to become breathless messes. Each noise you made made him drive deeper and deeper until the room filled with muffled sounds of skin hitting skin, You quickly felt yourself start to squeeze around him as with one last thrust his hips buckled and shaked as he drove himself deep into your core and let himself release inside you. The feeling made you shake under him, even while he hugged you tightly to his body.  

 Johnny held himself there for a moment until he felt your body start to relax, slowly and steadily pulling himself out from you with a small wet pop.. he gazed gentle as he looked at you like his masterpiece, he laid next you as he softly stroked your hair. Giving a soft kiss onto your forehead and he covered the two of you with the blanket, your chest raised and fell slowly and you calmed your breathing. “You did so well…sunflower” he said through huff as he brought you closer to his chest, letting you snuggle into him as you felt your head become heavy once again. 

 Johnny held you close as you started to drift off to sleep, You let yourself enjoy the only sane moment you felt in a long time..But for how long..

END OF CHAPTER 6

Hi darlings! I really hope you enjoyed chapter 6 of behind locked doors! I'm doing my best to keep the motivation i started this series with for ya'll, chapter 7 will probably take awhile to come out but i'll do my best to work on it so it comes out soon! that's if chapter 6 does well it's self lol anyways.. Love you! <3

Special tags : @thisissky @lil-spider @mikaneedy

[lovelymindescape]

Fuller , 1955 : Chapter 7 : The Space Between

Summary: After a quiet evening that felt like something close to hope, something shifts. The next school day doesn’t bring the closeness you expected—but a sudden distance. Thomas is pulling away, and you don’t know why. Hurt and confused, you try to reach through the silence, unsure if he’ll let you in again.

Setting: School grounds and Reader’s home – Texas, Early Fall 1955

Characters: Thomas Hewitt (teen), fem!reader, brief appearance from a teacher, mentions of classmates

Content Warnings: emotional withdrawal, self-esteem issues, bullying references, miscommunication, implied trauma

E's Notes: Don’t you love when a soft boy gets scared of how much he cares? No? Just me? Okay. Also, I apologize in advance for how much eye contact does the heavy lifting in this chapter. I cannot resist the ache of unspoken feelings. I know. I know. But I promise this is important. Relationships, especially ones built on trauma and fear, don’t move in perfect lines. This chapter hurts because it matters. Be patient with him. Be patient with her. Be patient with yourself

Chapter 6 : A Night like this

Monday comes too quickly. You wake up early, the sky still pale with dawn. The events of the weekend blur together like a dream—Friday’s field, Saturday’s quiet night, Sunday’s heartbeat of a memory.

Thomas’s hand in yours.

His careful sketch.

The way his eyes softened when you said his name.

It’s enough to make you hum while getting dressed. Enough to make the cold kitchen tiles under your feet feel like they don’t matter.Your mother barely glances up from her paper as you pour cereal.

“Don’t be late ,” she mutters, and that’s the closest thing to a goodbye you’ll get.

At school, everything’s louder.

Harsher.

Lockers slam.

Shoes squeak against the floor. The shrill bell splits through the hall like a blade.But you’re searching. Your eyes flick toward every classroom door, every hallway turn, until you finally spot him.

Thomas stands near the edge of the courtyard. Alone. His sketchbook is clutched in his hand, his head bowed slightly like he’s trying to disappear into the cement.You quicken your steps.

“Tommy!” you call, breath catching in your chest.

He flinches.

It’s subtle. Maybe no one else would notice. But you do. He doesn’t meet your eyes. Doesn’t smile. Doesn’t look like the boy who sat on your floor two nights ago. Still, you smile, approaching him slowly.

“Hey. I—I brought something for you.”

You fumble in your bag, pulling out a tiny folded piece of paper: a doodle you did, silly but sweet. A cat with big ears and a note underneath.

“To Tommy. You make the quiet feel okay.”

He takes it with stiff fingers. Doesn’t open it.You wait. You wait longer than you should. “Is something wrong?” you ask gently. He shrugs. It’s almost imperceptible. His eyes are fixed on something behind you, or maybe nothing at all.

The bell rings again. You flinch.

“I’ll see you at lunch?” you try.

Your voice is hopeful. Maybe too much.He nods. But it’s empty. Like a gesture done out of habit, not promise.

At lunch, he isn’t there.You sit on the grass outside, eyes scanning every corner of the school yard. The sun is too bright. Your sandwich tastes like nothing. You try not to let your throat tighten.

You try to remind yourself that he’s quiet. That sometimes it’s hard. That maybe it’s not about you. But your heart aches anyway. You wait again the next day.And the day after that.

And Thomas?

He keeps his distance.

Not cruel.

Not cold.

Just… distant.

Like the boy you held hands with in your living room never existed. You don’t know what you did. You don’t know what changed. But something did. And it’s breaking your heart, one silent hallway at a time.

You dress slowly Tuesday morning. Your room is too quiet. Every step feels heavier than the last. You comb your hair, staring into the mirror like it might tell you something your own reflection can’t.

Your mother calls from the kitchen. You ignore her the first time. "Breakfast’s getting cold!" You force your voice to be steady.

"Coming!"

But your toast goes half uneaten. The coffee is bitter. You don't even taste it.

At school, you look for him.

In the hallway.By the lockers.

At the far end of the field where he always waits before first bell.

Nothing.

He’s not hiding, not exactly. Just… not looking at you. When you catch his eye across the courtyard, his head turns immediately, shoulders stiffening like you’re someone he’s been told to avoid.

It hits like a slap.

You try to approach him once between classes. He sees you and slips into a stairwell. Fast. Like he’d rather disappear than face you.

That night, your pencil hovers over your diary. You don’t write anything for a long time. Finally:

Did I do something wrong? Did I say too much? Or not enough?I don’t understand.

You stare at the words. Then rip the page out and crumple it. It joins the others in your trash bin. Some ink still wet.

Later that night you dream about him. That same far-off version of him—quiet and flickering like a film reel left too long in the sun. When you reach for him, he backs away into shadow. You wake up with tears on your cheek.

Two days later, you spot him in art class. He's at the back as always, shoulders hunched, head down. A paper slips out of his sketchbook when he leaves. You don’t mean to see it. But it flutters toward you as he exits, not noticing.

You bend to pick it up. It's a drawing of the movie night. Your silhouette. Alone. The seat next to you—empty. Your throat tightens. You fold it gently and tuck it into your notebook without a word.

On Friday, someone says they saw him with Charlie near the woods behind the lot. Said Charlie had been yelling. That Thomas flinched but didn’t move. You sit in class and stare out the window, your notebook blank.

You press your nails into your palm beneath the desk just to feel something real.You want to ask. To knock on his door. To grab his hand like you did that night on your living room floor and tell him he doesn’t have to run.

But he’s already running. And you're not sure he wants to be caught.

Not by you.

Not by anyone.

You walk home that day with your head down. The street feels colder. And the silence—once soft and sacred—now feels like a closed door you don’t have the key for.

You still wear the smallest of smiles when you think about the way he once looked at you.

Like you were something rare.

Like you were safe.

Now, all you feel is the ache of not knowing what you lost. Or if you ever really had it in the first place.

That night, you lie on your bed with your lamp on low. The sketch he gave you—your face under soft pencil lines with the word safe written underneath—sits on your nightstand.

You pick it up again.

Trace your fingers over the edges.

“What changed?” you whisper aloud to no one. You replay every moment from the movie night. Every glance, every smile, every touch of his fingers brushing yours.

You scour your memory for something you said, something you did. Nothing stands out. Nothing makessense. You stare up at the ceiling.

“Why won’t you just talk to me?” you whisper, this time with a crack in your voice. No answer. Just the hum of the summer bugs outside and the heaviness in your chest.

TBC : Chapter 8

9Taglist : @thewolffairytaler @dogrrrrr @night-shadowblood-writes2 @iloved1lfs0 @reka13 @richietoziers-world

[melodrama-ticcc]

Hello friends!

Is the TCM game/TCM fandom in general still alive? I’ve taken a hiatus recently from writing but have come back to find it, somewhat died down. But, if there is indeed a demand for it I would love to continue writing 🖤

[morguemistress]

sfw alphabet of chop? (i'm 100% not obsessed with him)

Robert "Chop-Top" Sawyer x Reader: SFW Alphabet

All prompts for this fic have been taken from here.

This post was proof read by @naboo-123

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He's always glued to your hip or following you around like a dog. Robert shows his affection for you through physical touch and by writing you songs. He may also get you little presents that reminded him of you.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

As a best friend, he's a menace. You two are always teasing each other or playing pranks. You two bonded over your love for music and that has been the foundation of your friendship sense. He's always inviting you to shows with him or bringing you new CD's or vinyls to listen to.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

This man loves to cuddle. Sometimes he'll just throw himself onto you like he's tackling you. If you're sitting down somewhere, he wants to be next to you. If you're getting ready for bed, he wants to come up and hug you from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Like I said before, he shows his affection physically.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He's talked about settling down with you, carrying on the Sawyer name. But part of him is worried that he's unable to have children due to his exposure to chemical weapons. The man can cook though, he's a Sawyer, what did you expect? Cleaning is his issue, he's a messy person and you can definitely tell if you look at the kitchen after he's been in there.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

I hate to be the bearer of bad news but you'd die if things ended. Depending on how long you two had been together, you knew about the family secret and that information can't get out. Like he trusted you enough to introduce you to his family of cannibals and now you just want to leave?? Yeah no..

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Commitment is really important to him if you have formed a genuine relationship. He wouldn't want to rush into a marriage but it would definitely be in the back of his mind.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He's a rather chaotic person towards his family, but towards you he's very different. He is very gentle when it comes to touching you, sometimes he treats you as though you are made of glass. He holds you carefully, brushes your hair behind your ear, everything. Emotionally speaking, he enjoys teasing you, but he's careful to never take things too far.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Hugs are a must have if you are dating Robert Sawyer. He needs to feel you in front of him to ground himself. Sometimes he gets lost in his own head.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I think he would say it the day you got together. I see you two sitting on the hood of his truck under the stars as he talks about life. Then he just randomly turns to you and says how much he loves you. Like what? Hello?

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Robert is one jealous man, especially when it comes to his brothers. If he sees one of them do something a little too friendly or get a little too close to you, he's pissed. He never takes it out on you, rather the opposite. He'll be a little more touchy with you in more public areas of the house, making sure that his brothers know you're his.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

This man showers you in kisses on the daily. He makes it his goal to give you as many little pecks as he can. If you make him happy he'll swing you around and cover your face with kisses.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Children are usually scared of Bobby, every now and then when a brave little one makes their way onto the farm he's the one to chase them off and give them a good scare. But, he has thought about having kids of his own, and he hopes deep down in his heart that he'd make a good dad.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He wakes up super early, sometimes before 6am (curtesy of being in the war.) and if he's up, you're up. He doesn't want to start his day without you and he'd rather wake you up than let you sleep.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He's a night owl so you two don't go to bed until late. When it is time to settle in for the night however, he puts on one of his slower records and you two snuggle up together for a bit.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Most of the more personal information about him is shared when the two of you go for a late night drive in his truck. He didn't tell you everything all at once, but rather a few weeks, and new things still pop up in conversation every now and then.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He's not easily angered unless it's under reasonable circumstances. For example, if someone repeatedly annoys him he won't really care, but if someone hurts one of his family members he's ready to pounce.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers the smallest things you say. For example if you were to even mention liking a certain band, BOOM you have a pin with their logo on it. Or if he's feeling bold, he'll add one of their songs to his setlist. But if you ask this man to do something he'll "forget" at least twice before it gets done.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment in your relationship was the first time you came to one of his shows. Seeing you in the audience made his heart flutter. He loves when you come out to watch him perform.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

The man is quite literally a psychotic, war vet/murderer/cannibal. IF anyone dares to even look at you the wrong way they're ending up on the dinner table. He doesn't expect you to protect him, but it sure does make his heart beat a bit faster when you get defensive over him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He puts in as much effort as he can. He can't afford to take you out on lavish and fancy dates, but he will do his best to put together a picnic for you guys. Anniversaries are sometimes hard for him to remember, but he does his best.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He has a bad habit of auto-cannibalism. He's constantly picking at the skin or scabs around his plate and eating them. You have to remind him that he's not food.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He doesn't really care about the way his face looks, but he definitely puts effort into his outfits. We're talking staying up late to lay something out for the next day.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

You two complete each other, there is no him without you. Since you two began dating you find comfort in each others presence. With you around Robert feels somewhat normal.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

I have no idea what to write here, sorry guys!! Writers block is kicking my ass.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He wouldn't like a partner who's the complete opposite of him, or who's not willing to try new things. If you're a clean freak who likes to have a routine, I hate to say it but you're not his type. To be with him you've gotta be okay with a messier lifestyle.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

This man will fall asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, an when he's out, he's out. He is a huge snuggle bug, the only downside to sleeping in the same bed with him is that he moves around A LOT.

Alright I really hope this was good, feel free to give me any feedback. This was my first time writing an alphabet fic!

[ashtheketchum]

TCM characters in this situation:

A/N: It´s been awhile since I´ve posted something for the TCM characters! But now I´m back! :D If you want more with these type of situation´s maybe you can request them (With a pic if you want-) <3

Warning: Mention of blood, broom (if you know, you know), insults, fluff, they/them for Bubba, GENDER NEUTRAL Reader, +16 Content

__________________________

Bubba Sawyer:

Would make a extra mask for you to kiss them

They would be so excited they would barely be able to sit still

Bubba´s hands would be on your hips the entire time

Would let out a small coo or squeak sounds

Once you're done, Bubba would hang the mask up in their room and stare at it when they needs to calm down

If anyone caught you giving Bubba the marks, Bubba would squeak louder and immediately cover the mask with their big hands

Drayton would just hiss in annoyance and leave, while Nubbins and Chop Top would crack jokes, take pictures and laugh at you two

But you wouldn´t care

You and Bubba sometimes share a lipstick, but you bought a new one especially for that

You also like to kiss their hand or arm so that there is a mark too

Drayton Sawyer:

"Don' annoy me with tha' shit, kiddo!"

Not a fan of it

Pouting wouldn't help you either, as he'll just turn away and carry on with what he was doing

You tried it secretly once while Drayton was sleeping and it worked

He only noticed when Chop Top and Nubbins made a stupid comment

"Kissy monster, kissy monster, kissy monster!" ~Chop Top

Be prepared for punishment afterwards: 🧹

Still, Drayton thinks you look good with the lipstick (No matter what colour)

He doesn't tell you though-

He only accepts a kiss on the lips if he knows the lipstick won't stay on him

Nubbins Sawyer:

He would giggle the whole time

Once you're done, he'd take hundreds of photos

After that, he'd forget to wash it off his face

"L-l-let me m-mark you t-too, Y/N!" Takes a dead animal out of his bag and wants to smear the blood on your face

He'd show it off to his brothers

He'd especially want to show it off to Drayton because he found a partner before the "old cracker man"

If he didn't forget, Nubbins would still walk around like that all day long

With that it feels like you're always with him

Once when you were sick and couldn't kiss him, Nubbins took your lipstick and tried to trace the kissing marks himself

It didn't look good-

Chop Top Sawyer:

Chop Top wouldn't want the kissing marks to be in one color

He would want them in red, purple and blue

While you kiss his face, Chop Top would sometimes pinch your sides or massage your butt

Of course, some music is playing in the background (mostly his)

Drayton always complains that you two should be working and not doing something "useless"

Sometimes he also eats something from his scalp

When he offered you something, you had left the room

"J-just a snack, Y/N! Your lips m-must hurt from the kissing!"

He keeps wanting you to make him new ones

When the old ones fade, he wants you to make him new ones

Thomas Hewitt:

He doesn't see any useful purpose in it

After Thomas sees how happy it makes you, he agrees

Although he kept his mask on, you still kissed places that his mask didn't cover

To show that you loved everything about him

You only kiss his old mask because you can see him better through it

Hoyt always laughs at Thomas and calls him a "pussy" for letting you do that to him

Luda May thinks it's cute, though

One time a victim was so confused by the kissing marks on Thomas' face that they didn't really run away

Thomas always washes his face before he goes to sleep, though

It disappoints you, but you're more excited that you'll be able to give him new ones soon

[adalwolfgang]

could I request some yandere nubbins sawyer hcs if it's not too much to ask? Thank you, ^^

Also sorry if I'm flooding ya with sawyer asks

-📻

A/N: Like last time, this is my first time writing for nubbins so he might be a little ooc for some.

Warnings: This is much more violate in a way than choptop's

Yandere!Nubbins Sawyer

He meet's you and your group of friends similar to the first movie.

A lonely hitchhiker you all take pity on a decide to give him a lift.

Big mistake on your part.

During his show and tell of the photos he has of him and his brothers working at the slaughterhouse, he takes out his camera and snaps a photo of franklin and then a couple of you.

He offer's Franklin the photo in exchange for $2 bucks, while handing over a photo of you for free.

Sawyer rizz ig.

Franklin just act's all offended.

When Nubbins starts acting erratically, involuntarily cutting his hand with Franklin's pocket knife and slicing at Franklin, he get's votingly kicked out of the van.

But not before he leaves a handprint of his own blood marked on the van.

When he meets back up with his brothers to go over the plan of taking you all out, Nubbin's warns his brothers not to kill you.

Bubba goes along with the order while Drayton isn't to pleased with the idea of keeping you alive.

What would happen if you escaped?

The whole family would be at risk of being arrest or worse killed by police.

Either way, they come to an agreement to you staying alive

Now onto the head canon part.

Similar to chop-top, he's possessive as hell.

But way worse.

He can be more violent and unpredictable with you.

He isn't afraid to hurt you in some way to get his point across.

He won't do anything that would bring you close to dying but sometimes you'd probably wish for that treatment instead.

Again, he makes sure you're constantly with him or as much as he hates it, one of his brothers is with you to make sure you don't escape.

If you show any form or thought of escaping, he locks you up in a room for a few day's without food or water like some abused pet.

When your 'punishment' is up, he'll act all loving towards you.

He'll feed you himself, and give you water no matter if you're too weak to do it yourself or not.

Again he's unpredictable with his mood swings.

Respect and boundaries are another thing.

He doesn't quite see them the way others do nor does he care to follow them.

He's constantly touching and petting you.

Especially your hair.

He's obsessed with your hair alone.

He's constantly touching it, stroking it, washing it, or tugging at it.

He's also always wrapping his arms around you either in a hug or just to keep you close.

If you try to push him away, he'll get all whiny and upset that you don't recuperate his affections.

He'll still force you though.

Bubba think's it's cute but feel's sorry for the both of you if you don't feel the same to nubbin's.

Drayton just finds it weird and a nuisance to the family business but he doesn't say that.

[thatweirdbitchjax]

Can we give Bubba a little kith?

Absolutely! This man needs more love istg.

Break Time Kisses

Bubba barely gets breaks as most of the house work is pushed on him, however when he gets the time to take a break, he spends it with you.

Reader and Bubba sat in the basement, the coolest place to be in the sweltering heat of Texas. Bubba was stood in front of Reader while they sat on the edge of a counter. Bubba had his de-masked face shoved into their neck, hugging them tightly around the waist. Reader softly played with his hair, twisting it around their fingers and detangling it. Reader stopped all of a sudden, moving their hands from his hair to the sides of his face. Bubba tilted his head softly, letting out squeals as he looked into Reader's soft eyes, filled with nothing but love. Suddenly, Reader leaned in and pecked Bubba's cheek before moving over to kiss the other cheek, then one on his for head, and finally their lips landed on his with a sweet and small kiss. Bubba squealed happily, rubbing his nose against theirs as a small Eskimo kiss. As Reader giggled, they immidiatly began peppering Bubba's face with many kisses. All in different places, but all just as love filled as the last.

Bubba loves days like this. Bubba loves when you kissed him. Bubba loves when you show him you're not afraid of him. Bubba loves spending time with you. Bubba just loves you, and everything to do with you. No matter how big or small you are, no matter what color your skin is, he loves you.

So yeah, I think Bubba likes kisses y'all.

Tag list: @zeroisreallygood @th3-r4t-48 @puppet200