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summerslashers · 2 days

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Breakfast: Thomas Hewitt x Reader

Summary: You invite Thomas over for breakfast before he has to go to work.

Warnings: None <3

There was a familiar firm knock at your door while you were still getting everything ready for your nice morning. You were wearing your pajamas and a pair of comfy socks, and the smell of bacon filled the air. You rushed over to answer the door and greet the large man waiting patiently on your porch. His soft blue eyes met yours and you smiled brightly.

“Hi Tommy. Come on in.”

You hurried back over to the stove to tend to the food before it had the chance to burn while Tommy stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He lingered near the door awkwardly, his hands fidgeting at his sides while he observed you and your rather chaotic kitchen.

“You can sit down if you’d like.” You spoke softly, hoping to make him feel more comfortable around you and your home. “Everything should be ready soon.”

He nodded and took a seat at your small dining table, watching you as you made your way around the kitchen, cleaning and cooking. You grabbed a medium sized bowl and five large eggs, cracking them into a bowl, whisking them up, and dumping them into a hot pan. While those began to cook, you added the final ingredients to your pancake batter- a splash of vanilla and some cinnamon- and set it off to the side. When you looked back at Tommy, he seemed to be watching you with fascination, clearly interested in everything you were doing. You smiled at him fondly.

“Do you want to come over here with me?” You asked sweetly, inviting him to watch more closely. “I don’t mind.”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding, standing up and joining you by your side. You smiled up at him and got back to work flipping the sizzling bacon, setting aside the scrambled eggs, and pouring in the pancake batter. Everything seemed to be coming together nicely.

“Would you like chocolate chips in your pancakes?” You asked, looking up at the tall man.

Tommy nodded enthusiastically and you smiled brightly, letting out a small laugh. It was the first time that you had seen him look this excited about something. It made you happy to know that he was becoming more comfortable around you and that he could show his emotions more freely. You made sure to add extra chocolate chips to the pancakes just for him.

The two of you finished up the pancakes together. You even had Tommy help add the chocolate chips to some of them. (He accidentally dumped out like a quarter of the bag the first time he did it. He was freaking out, but you just laughed it off and reassured him that everything was fine and that it would just be a really chocolatey pancake.)

When everything was finished, you turned off the stove and made Tommy a plate with a big stack of pancakes, a scoop of scrambled eggs, and a generous portion of bacon. You sent him over to the table which was already set with napkins, silverware, glass cups, and most importantly, maple syrup. Meanwhile, you grabbed a plate of your own and a pitcher of fresh squeezed orange juice from the fridge, joining Tommy at the table before pouring each glass to the top.

“Thanks for coming over-” You smiled. “-and for helping with breakfast.”

You could have swore you saw the corners of his lips upturn in the smallest smile under his half mask, his gentle blue eyes lighting up with affection in a way that made your heart beat faster in your chest. For a while the two of you ate your food in comfortable silence, and when you shyly asked him if he liked the food, he gave you an eager nod.

He finished his food long before you did, and with some sweet encouragement and reassurance from you that there was more than enough, he was happy to accept seconds. You couldn’t help but smile fondly as you watched him stack a few more pancakes onto his plate, his very tall and large frame making your humble kitchen seem even smaller than it already was.

It wasn’t very long before the two of you had finished breakfast and it was time for Tommy to head to the slaughterhouse. You walked him to the door, assuring him that you would clean everything up and that it was no trouble at all, though his worried eyes seemed to protest.

The two of you lingered by the front door, neither of you wanting to part ways as you gazed into each other’s eyes with a gentle affection.

“I’m really happy you came over.” You smiled up at him sweetly. “I meant it when I said you’re welcome over any time. I… really like spending time with you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you shyly confessed your feelings, your eyes glancing away for a moment before returning to his gentle gaze. Your heart fluttered in your chest when you noticed the soft smile on his lips, and you swore you could have melted from his tender expression alone.

“Maybe I can see you tomorrow?” You offered shyly, your eyes lighting up with excitement when Tommy immediately nodded his head.

“Tomorrow then.” You agreed with a grin as you opened the door for him, sad to be parting ways for the day, but eager to see what tomorrow might bring.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #tommy hewitt #tommy hewitt x reader #fuck this was cute #tcm the beginning

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impeakcharacterdesign · 6 months

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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.

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clearmarinaa · 7 months

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if i see anyone else drawing bubba or thomas skinny i WILL lose it. there's no such thing as "character misinterpretation" on this case, theres NO FUCKING WAY you see these men as skinny.

how do you fuck up so bad

if you want to draw hot skinny man then go draw brahms whatever-his-name-is-spelled or something

#tcm bubba #bubba sawyer #leatherface #the texas chainsaw massacre #tcm #thomas hewitt #tcm the beginning

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z0mibite · 27 days

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short little tommy oneshot, small warning of s/a, not graphicly depicted by there's two mentions. typical tcm warnings, death, blood, murder, ect. soft tommy, probably ooc.

You should be disgusted.

You should feel terrified.

And you did, to be fair. But not nearly as much as you should.

Not when that giant had brutalized those bikers who attempted to assault you, and not when he had treated you so gently. Maybe it was the fact that you didn't put up a fight, that instead of struggling to escape him, you reached up for him as a frightened child would. You had wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him tightly, rather than beating against him.

You were brought to the same dark, damp, moldy room as the bikers, but he didn't shove a meat hook through your shoulder, he sat you down on an unorganized workbench, sharp tools scattered around on top of it. In front of you was some type of chopping block. The wood was stained with a brownish color in a pooling shape, the sides dripping. Some of it was more red and fresher, and the smell of copper hung stagnant in your senses. It was so heavy you could nearly taste it, and the air being so humid and thick didn't help.

The bikers, they begged you.

They looked directly at you and cried for you to help them as the monster of a man poured gasoline into his chainsaw, the smell of diesel overpowering the smell of copper for the time being. The two men and one woman who had cornered you at that shop, tearing at your clothes until the ‘Sheriff’ stepped in. You simply stared, watched as the man revved the chainsaw and began dismembering them one by one.

By the time he'd finished, he was covered in blood, and he wasn't the only one. You couldn't see his face well, but you heard his breath hitch slightly as he saw how much of a mess he had made on you. He walked to the sink, grabbed a rag you doubted was clean before wetting it, and began wiping the crimson off you. The only sounds you could hear was his breathing, and the drips you could only decipher due to the difference in how heavy they sounded.

Your eyes met his as he gently rubbed the blood off your cheek, his hands holding your jaw still despite you making no attempt to move. He paused his movements to wipe his thumbs under your eyes, the tears that threatened to spill finally falling as he pushed them out. He tilted his head curiously before moving one hand to the back of your head, the other holding your back as he pulled you into his chest. The hug was inexperienced and awkward, but comforting nonetheless. His body heat enveloped you, and somehow, even after watching every moment of his brutal acts, your muscles relaxed, and the tension in your body slowly left with a long exhale.

#thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt tcm #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x y/n #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #tcm 2006 #tcm the beginning #texas chainsaw massacre the beginning #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw massacre x reader

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concreteblocs · 4 months

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tommy would turn nubbins into paste I think

#thomas hewitt #tcm the beginning #tcm #tcm fanart #tommy hewitt #leatherface

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doodlefartzz · 5 months

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DREW HUSBANDDDDD 🤞🤞🤞

#art #fanart #digital art #meow #meow meow meow #texas chainsaw massacre #Tim #texas chainsaw fanart #tcm remake #Texas chainsaw massacre the beginning #tcm the beginning #thomas hewitt #luda mae hewitt #Luda Mae #doodlefartzz 4 life

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nothomegal · 1 month

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Local Texas man dealing with the heat🔥🔥

(A surprise under the cut 👀)

#nothomegal art #thomas hewitt #tcm the beginning #thomas hewitt art #slasher #leatherface #artists on tumblr #texas chainsaw massacre #slasher fanart

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sxdvxxbes · 2 months

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minilev · 2 years

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[x]

#thomas hewitt #leatherface #slashers #tcm the beginning #texas chainsaw massacre #my art

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nobitchs-world · 3 months

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Me after realizing I have to wait for new chapters of my fav fic

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sketchbook-of-shadows · 1 year

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💕Cuddling Slashers Headcanons💕

(x reader, all sfw🫶)

I finally finished the cuddling headcanons!! I wanna say thanku to @sprite-real as I based this off their slasher cuddling headcanons post they very kindly done up for me so please go read their HC's first to show them some support and also for context! (this is not a request, everyone give Sprite love and say ' thanku Sprite' 🔫) I'll also be putting these in the same order they did😚💕

Thomas Hewitt

I didn't use a pose ref for this one but I still really liked how it turned out, still getting used to drawing 2 figures close to eachother without it looking awkward at this time because it's the first one I drew

Bubba Sawyer

Struggled a little with his mask and hair on this one but overall I really like the pose

Lester Sinclair

I'm gonna be honest, I almost waged war on Lester because it took forever to get his face even remotely similar to how he looks in the movie (I still feel it doesn't but if I spent longer on this it'd probably be out in Jan), I adored drawing Jonesy though (puppyyyy)

Bo Sinclair

This pose was a little awkward for me to do up so I ended up tweaking the ref I made a couple of times because his head looked weird

Vincent Sinclair

Definitely my favourite one, favourite brother, favourite pose and overall favourite drawing out of these

Michael Myers

Looks a little awkward but trust me, it's meant to look like that. Also if you zoom in a bit I drew his eyes under his mask but I mostly shadowed them out because it looked off

Jason Voorhees

Posing here was a little sus but I love it regardless

Also buttcheeks hehe😛

I made these poses (aside from Thomas's one) in Magic Poser, if you'd like to use the same ref for an oc or a self insert or whichever, I can upload the poses to the Magic Poser gallery and share them there or post the exact angles of the ones I used, just ask and u shall receive🫶

OH ITS 1AM

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cherry-cola-on-ice · 9 months

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Can you write a story that has Thomas Hewitt getting jealous at a guy flirting with his S/O please love your work🙏🙏🙏🙏

Jealousy Jealousy

It shouldn't bug him so much. Especially after all this time.

It wasn't your fault after all. Anyone with eyes could see how beautiful you were. Everything about you was crafted by some higher being, sculpted from the stars and the skies. And you were so sweet, so kind. You brought a smile to even Uncle Monty's face.

And most of all, he knew you loved him. He repeatedly told himself, saying it over and over again in his head like his own personal mantra. As long as you loved him, he didn't need anything else.

Thomas's eyebrows furrowed as you laughed at the joke. He couldn't tell you jokes. But this stranger could. This handsome, younger man with perfect teeth and perfect hair. He looked like one of those men on the front of the harlequin novels Hoyt steals out of suitcases.

You laughed again, head thrown back. God, you were perfect. Too perfect for him. This stranger was the type of man you deserved.

From the back room of the gas station, Thomas shifted his weight nervously. He knew he should have left you at the house. It was a bad idea, just like Hoyt said. You brought to much attention to yourself. Unknowingly and unwittingly, of course. Never your intention.

But you had a magnetic power around you, drawing people in.

Your soft eyes were what made him fall in love with you. When his family first found you, hiding out in their barn, crying your eyes out, he felt a pang in his heart that was new to him. You looked scared and you were alone. Everyone else had left you, all meeting their ends by his chainsaw.

He asked you why you didn't struggle and you always shrugged "I guess they were never really my friends to begin with. They tried to leave me for dead. "

And he didn't question it at first. After all, it all brought you to him. You were his now.

But-

You should hate him. You should fight him. You shouldn't be able to stand the sight of him. You were better off with this man, this stranger who could give you the life you deserved. The overwhelming feeling of despair hit him like a shot to the stomach.

But then you turned to him. And smiled. That sweet smile, the one that lit up a room and light up his life. And it was directed at him. It was his smile.

And for a moment, all was right in the world. You chose him.

But then-

"So, I gotta wonder... What's a sweet thing like you doing in a shit hole like this?"

From afar, Thomas could see you bristle, your demeanor change from jovial to defense "What's that supposed to mean? There's nothing wrong with here."

The stranger laughed "Yeah, it's cute in tetanus shot kinda way. But nowhere such a hot piece of ass such as you should be. "

Thomas ought to punt this creep straight into a grinder. His fist balled up and he began stalking towards him-

Except you beat him to the punch. Quite literally.

The stranger fell to the floor, holding his bloody nose. Whimpering. Thomas was surprised, he didn't think this guy would go down that easily. The man wasn't as tall as him, but he was still a sizable man. And you floored him.

Looking back to you, he watched as you shook your hand out, cursing under your breath "Fucking hell, dude! Your face made out of concrete?!?"

"YOU BROKE MY NOSE, YOU BITCH!"

"Yeah, and I'll do it again if you don't get your ass outta here!"

The man, holding his bleeding nose, lifted himself off the ground, shooting daggers at you. Instinctively, Thomas placed his body between the two of you, glaring back at him.

The stranger, though looking absolutely terrified, feigned confidence and scoffed as he walked by. You grabbed Thomas's arm, shouting as the stranger left the store "Yeah! Get out here, you-"

Thomas spun you around, grabbing your face in his hands. He looked you over, looking for any signs of harms. You scrunched your nose "I'm fine, Thomas!"

Thomas huffed, pulling you close to him. You laughed in his arms, standing up on your tip toes to press a kiss to his mask. Thomas looked down at you, taking in the lovestruck look in your eyes.

Yeah, he had nothing to worry about.

#slasher x reader #slashers x reader #thomas hewitt headcanon #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x y/n #the texas chainsaw massacre #tcm the beginning #slasher headcanons

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moth-in-the-broth · 1 year

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#thomas hewitt #leatherface #tcm #tcm the beginning #my art

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clearmarinaa · 4 months

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the two kinds of fat dude. ball and fridge.

i have seen someone else draw them like this but i don't remember their username :[

#the texas chainsaw massacre #bubba sawyer #texas chainsaw massacre #tcm #tcm the beginning #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt tcm #tcm leatherface #leatherface #tcm bubba

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z0mibite · 24 days

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>1000 words, detailed descriptions of violence and a (sort of?) mention of s/a (⚠️use of the r word ⚠️), reader is gn! and up to interpretation throughout other than being considerably smaller than thomas and one mention of possibly bearing children. open-ended, so if you prefer angst endings for reader or stockholm, you can choose, it's texas chainsaw massacre, anything that's in either movie is part of the warnings just to be safe. dead dove do not ear, read at your own risk. also this is not proofread in any way, I literally wrote this straight shot right before bed listening to dove (doll ver) on loop and hit post.

READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE CONTINUING

imagine tommy keeping you, not to rape and defile like his uncle assumed, nor for you to bare children like his mama had hoped—but because you're just so nice to look at.

In the first film, tommy can be seen wearing rings, jewelry he's collected from past victims. also with the whole wearing people's faces to mask his own, he obviously has an eye for pretty things. and you're one of them.

It isn't just that of course, plenty of pretty people had come onto the farm, all meeting the same fate. he hadn't spared a dozen or so others, so why would he spare you?

you hadn't flinched at the sight of him, you hadn't run away crying like a child at their first horror maze, you simply smiled at him with those sparkling eyes, an elegant hand giving him a friendly, unbiased wave. you looked at him without prejudice, or preconceived assumptions about his character.

your friends hadn't given him the same courtesy. which is why you were here, chained to the workbench near the chopping block. the block he was using to dismember your traveling companions. a few of them hung from meat hooks, catatonic, their minds were weak and feeble, they broke at the sights in front of them, and despite the agonizing pain of lost limbs and shredded muscle, they were silent and still, waiting for their turn.

death was their only escape, they needed only to wait for it. you could see it in their eyes, each time he'd finish one off and turn to grab the next off a hook, they'd all follow him with pleading eyes. not for mercy, they were far beyond the point of return—but to be next.

your entire body was shaking like a kicked chihuahua. your muscles were all tense, adrenaline begged you to run, flee, to escape death. your silly primal instinct hadn't caught up with your concious. It was an odd feeling, having every possible part of your body screaming at you to run, and choosing to stay still, to betray your instinct with your intelligence. you knew you wouldn't get far.

despite the horrid conditions in the basement, a place where your senses should be overloaded; your ears with the echoes of their screams and the engine of the saw, your eyes with the gory mess, your nose with the pungent smell of iron and rotting flesh, your tongue with the dryness of your mouth from panting, and your body's fatigue from running around for hours—there was nothing but the racing of your heartbeat.

It was all you could hear or feel, and in your mind you could taste and see it as well, you felt the pulse rise all the way into your skull and down to your toes. you felt every rush of blood heat your skin like a furnace, moving past your veins and tissue.

your eyes aimlessly followed his body, unblinking and dry. he was deeply focused on his ‘work’, but he would still glance at you every now and again. you were just so pretty, a decoration in his safe haven, like a deer mounted above the fireplace.

hours had passed in what felt like seconds before he was finished. you hadn't moved.

he nonchalantly came up to you, his much larger hand going to cup your face before he froze. he withdrew his hands, wiping the bloody mess on his apron and washing his hands before he continued his previous action.

you didn't dare move, not even to flinch, as his held your head in your hands.

his thumbs caressed the flesh just under your eyes, rubbing around and about, seemingly fascinated by the way your skin folded and stretched at his will. he made a gesture with his hands, swiping a palm in front of your eyes, an attempt at communicating. when you didn't respond, he huffed frustratedly before letting his thumbs touch your eyelids, forcing them down to close your eyes.

he took your chin in-between two fingers, maneuvering your head in every direction, studying every feature. his thumb pulled your lips apart, showing him your teeth, clenched so hard they might be pushed back underneath your eye sockets.

after a he took some time to study you, you felt his thumbs come back to rest on your eyelids, pulling them open again. this time he studied your iris. he was clearly upset at the lack of light that prevented him from seeing the color clearly, but he looked closely nonetheless.

the sensation of breath enveloping your face, forcing you to breathe in the air he had just released, was one you could not describe.

his hands fell to your shoulders and moved downward till he got to your forearms, where he would trace the veins in your arms. when his hand met your wrist, he applied gentle pressure to it, his breath hitching as he felt your blood pulsate. he moved onto your hands now.

his were easily twice the size of yours, if not more. his nails were dull and blunt, the skin much rougher against yours. dried blood cracked underneath his nails and stained his skin a pinkish tone despite his tan. he traced the lines of your palm the same way a palm reader would, take away the tales of life lines and replace them with pure admiration.

he unexpectedly leaned in closer to you, his face now inches, if that, from your own. you kept your gaze ahead as he stared you down.

he brought his masked nose up to the top of your head and sniffed you like a dog, leaning down to your neck to see what else he could smell on you besides your faded fragrance and sweat.

It was only after this action of his that your body responded in any way in nearly 12 hours.

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