Goth Girl Cock

goth girl cock

Jason & Friends

He shy but we still luv him

hey! just putting it out there- im perfectly okay with drawing slashers in any body type or way you’d like in requests! i love adding details like stretch marks or top surgery scars or prosthetics or anything of the sort to characters already and i know how important that can be for ppl (it is for me too) so if you wanna request a slasher drawing but are nervous about it seeming out of my comfort zone, as long as it isnt outright offensive you’ll be good love :> 

hi! if you're still open for requests i was wondering if you could do Bubba Sawyer x GN! reader? no preference on theme just somethin' fluffy and sweet :)) i love how you write for him and i always look forward to seeing new stuff from you i hope you're having a good day/night! <33

farm hours (sfw)

AN: thank you so much for the request! i can most certainly do bubba x reader, it is a fave of mine =D warnings for uhhh canon-typical past abuse? very lightly touched-on though summary: bubba and breaking schedule are two concepts that have never crossed before.

Bubba, usually, is an early riser.

There’s always something, something that needs to be done. And, Bubba is the workhorse of the Sawyers. He works in the morning, works in the afternoon, works at night. He doesn’t complain- God only knows what kind of beating he’d get for complaining about “helping to provide for his family.”

He’s a farm boy. Getting up at the ass-crack of dawn was something he had to get used to over the years. Yet, right now, he’s peculiarly warm for a dark, chilly winter morning.

He stirs, and opens his eyes just a crack- the sun’s already up.

Bubba panics. He sits up immediately, throwing you from his chest. “Ugh- Bubba..?” You croon, barely awake at all.

He all but falls right out of bed, hurriedly throwing on a shirt and babbling apologies at you incoherently. Fuck, Drayton’s going to be so mad-! Bubba struggles out of his mask and into another with just as much difficulty. The sun’s already high in the sky, too! Why didn’t Drayton just come in and wake him up, damn it-

“What are you doing?” You ask, sitting up and scrubbing the sleep from your eyes. Bubba fumbles with his tie- the damn thing is so hard to get right.

“Work!” He finally squawks. “Late!”

You make a low, sympathetic noise that stops Bubba in his track. “Baby, you don’t work anymore.” 

Bubba looks around the room. Tidy, well put-together. His room is falling apart at the seams- this can’t be right at all. He turns to you- you’re in a big, clean bed, with sheets and pillowcases. Bubba doesn’t have sheets or pillowcases, does he? He sleeps on a little mattress on the floor, the same one he’s had since he was a kid-

“You moved out,” you tell him, crawling to the edge of the bed and reaching for his hand. He takes it, hesitant. “Just us now, yeah? No more work, no more Drayton. Just Bubba and me.”

Bubba sighs. It’s a sad, tired noise- he’s embarrassed, you can tell. “Sorry,” he whispers.

“No need for that, Bubby,” you murmur. “It’s okay. Just like a bad dream, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

He comes back to the bed with you, and you start gently removing his work attire. Off comes the necktie, the apron- “D you miss working, you think?” You ask while unbuttoning his shirt.

Bubba shakes his head. “Don’ think so,” he mumbles. “Felt scared, when I woke up.”

You frown, gently laying a hand on his chest. “I’m sorry to hear that,” you murmur. “No need to be scared now, baby. Come back to bed, I’ll make you feel better.”

Bubba can’t deny a request like that. You gently unlace his mask and slide it off- you don’t linger, since you know he prefers having the mask on just for comfort, but Bubba has no reservations about kissing you now that he has the opportunity. You giggle, and his arms wrap around your waist and pull you against him. “Let me fix your mask- Bubba-!”

He finally stills enough for you to put his casual mask back on him, and then he gets right back to business. You love his affectionate moods (granted, almost every mood of his is an affectionate one) because of how much he responds to physicality.

You tumble back on the bed with him. No more waking up early. Bubba would rather sleep in with you.

He nuzzles against your cheek firmly- you laugh with the volume of someone not concerned with bothering anyone. Bubba loves it. You squeeze him around the chest, and finally manage to wrangle him down against the bed with you on top of him.

“You wanna wrestle?” You ask, challenging. You know Bubba’s going to pull his punches (if he didn’t, your ass would get handed to you), but you’re willing to bet he’ll pull his punches enough to give you an advantage. 

Bubba is just happy to have a romp with you. He nods eagerly.

Your morning together is whittled away into laughter and urgent attempts to kiss one another or get one’s hand on the other’s ass, a la “wrestling”. When you settle, Bubba having won the wrestling match, you both lay back on the bed and catch your breath.

“Isn’t this better than working all day?” You ask. 

Bubba nods. “Mhm.” 

“And now you’re all tired,” you purr, crawling up onto his chest, “so we can go back to sleep and rest until we’re too hungry to sleep.” 

Bubba giggles- he can definitely follow your logic- and cuddles into the crown of your head. “Mhm,” he says again. “Nice an’ sleepy.”

You settle back down. His level of comfort with sleeping next to you is a vast improvement, compared to what it used to be. “Then I think a good hour-long downtime is in order. Yeah?”

Bubba nods. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” You hide your face in the crook of his neck, and he puts his arm around your waist. “Now, sleepy-time. And no waking up until absolutely necessary.”

You certainly don’t have to tell Bubba twice.

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