Hi this may be a bit of an odd request but I was wondering if you might do a mad Thomas x male reader where maybe he’s having a secret dalliance of sorts with him and then actually starts falling for them?
Calloused Hands (Mad Thomas x Male!Reader)
Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, smut to feelings, closeted!Thomas, 1600s puritan values, mentions of religion, blowjobs, handjobs, kissing, head pushing, slight degradation,
Word Count: 1.1k
Thomas gripped your hair, holding your head down.
You were used to his roughness, and you forced your throat to relax as you took him as deep as he wanted you to. You swallowed around him, used your tongue to massage the underside of his cock, and, from the hitch in his throat, you could guess he was nearly finished.
You swallowed his come just like he liked, and you were rewarded with the sound of your name falling from his lips. Really, isn't that why you did all this?
Thomas barely touched you, and never even kissed you. He wanted your mouth, a mouth as warm and wet as any other he'd tell you, but he'd grope and grab at you until you gave it to him. And then he'd leave you to finish yourself off. But, you could replay the sounds he made, the sound of your name from his tongue, in your head. He let you pull off, let you catch your breath, while he put himself away. And, then his calloused hands ran over the skin of your face.
It was a strange touch, and your eyes flicked up to him. He was staring down at you, a small pant to his breath, and you saw something still flickering behind those blue eyes of his. Thomas was strong, stronger than he looked. He pulled you off your knees, and you had to catch your balance by grabbing onto his shirt. His hands were quick to smooth down your side, to grab at your hips before sliding back up, and you could see something stirring behind his eyes. You were so close to him, practically sharing breaths as he flipped the pair of you so you were the one pressed against the tree. It made you gasp, made you grip his shoulder. He was still acting like a man untouched, and you whispered a small,
"You're insatiable tonight, eh?" To break the silence between you. And you watched how his eyes flicked down to watch your lips. He was leaning forward the next second, catching you by surprise.
The kiss was clumsy at first, but you quickly let him take the lead. You tried not to be too eager, for fear you'd scare him off, but Thomas wasn't ever the type to be frigid. He kissed you hard, the feeling of his hands running over your neck before dipping down to reach under your shirt. You nearly shivered at the feeling, even if your blood was practically boiling.
When his kiss trailed down to your neck, you were playing with the idea that maybe this was a dream. You quickly pushed the thought away because, if it was, you did not want to wake up. He trailed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, before he sucked the spot just behind your ear. You let out a soft moan, and reached to hold onto his arm as his hands moved over your sides, your stomach, as he scratched down your back. His knee was already between your legs, and it took everything you had not to grind against his thigh. To not push him too far. But, those thoughts were pushed away when he reached for the drawstring of your trousers.
No, this was a dream you definitely did not want to wake up from.
With your pants loosened, Thomas was free to reach inside. Rough fingers wrapped around your length, and you let out a shaky breath as your eyes quickly fluttered closed. You could hear the sound of him spitting into his hand, almost as a afterthought, before he began stroking you.
"F-Fuck." The word was quiet as it left your lips, as your head thunked back against the tree, but it seemed to stir something in Thomas.
"This was what you wanted, eh?" You could barely hear him over the haze in your mind, but you reached to grip both of his shoulders. As if trying to hold on to the sound of his voice. "Always tempting me." He leaned forward, and you moaned into the slide of his lips against yours. His hand was moving fast, and you were already aching between your legs. How many nights had you had to finish yourself by your own hand? You couldn't count them, but this felt miles better. "Trying to make a sinner out of me." He mumbled against your lips, but you didn't care. You pulled him back in, carded your hands through his hair as he pushed you closer and closer towards the edge.
You could feel your release hanging by a thread, and all it took was a twist of his wrist for it to be cut. You came between you, your release splattering over his hand and most likely your shirts. He stroked you twice more, milking your release until you were practically shivering in his arms. Until you let out a gasping sound of his name.
Thomas thought about what you did in the woods the past few times. He imagined that the darkness shielded you well. He could imagine the movement of your hand, and the sounds that fell from your lips.
Moans that made his blood run south, made him nearly take himself out again even if he'd only finished minutes ago. But, without fail, he imagined his name falling from your lips.
It was his favorite part, and he'd decided tonight that he wanted to hear it. Truly, hear it. He stroked you until he did, even as he told you lies. Even as something warm and wet covered his hands. And, he swore it was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard. Sweeter than scripture, he thought.
For a moment, the thought, the fondness behind the thought, sent a quick shock of fear down his spine.
But, before he could react, do something he would tell himself he didn't regret, you were petting his cheek.
He paused. It was strange, feeling your hands, rough from farm-work and chores, rubbing over the skin of his cheek so gently. It was a stark contrast to how he touched you. And, when he heard you draw in a breath, saw the way your eyes looked him over, Thomas knew what you were going to do. It was harder to justify with the heat of the moment having passed, but that was before he felt your lips back against his. With your lips against his, Thomas didn't care about reasons. It was careful, gentle, and Thomas melted right into it. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulled him close to your warmth. Pulled him so he was pressed against you in a way that made him feel warm. And, Thomas held you back, even if he knew your hold on him would never truly let him go.
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