#3 from hell imagines

[msookyspooky]

Smacking the Slashers on the 🍑

Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Severen Van Sickle, Baby Firefly, Otis Driftwood, Foxy Coltrane

Bo Sinclair:

- "What in the goddamn hell?!-" He drew out after jolting under the hood of a car. He was bent over, his double cheeked up on a Tuesday ass on full display; how could you not? I hope you got one hell of a good smack too. He deserves it. Use one of the fanbelts on the wall. Make it count cause he's not gonna let you do that often without him getting payback. (Oh, but he smacks yours constantly and that's fine)

- If he hit his head on the hood so help you God you need to run and hide for awhile cause he's gonna rage.

- After the shock wears off that someone just smacked his ass... He gets a smirk on his lips and forgets whatever he's working on. "Oh, ya wanna play, do ya? C'mere." You just gave him incentive to hold you down and let his inner perverted sadist out on your ass. You ain't gonna sit right for the rest of the day. I hope you evade him or it turns to a sex thing...Yeah, it'll be a sex thing.

Vincent Sinclair

- He was so busy sculpting and had his Classical Music on high. You tried to get his attention and when that didn't work you swatted him on the butt. He jumped a foot in the air and you had to duck when he almost accidentally took your head off with whatever tool he was using. You startled the hell out of him!

- He's blushing under his mask but gives you a confused look...He's not mad he's just...Curious why you did that.

- He doesn't get revenge right away. Instead, he'll wait till your busy one day and do it back to you just to see your reaction and if it's a playful one then he's kind of happy about it. Not use to this type of dynamic with anyone

Lester Sinclair

- He was loading or unloading a carcass in the bed of his truck and it had been a boring day so you couldn't help it when you smacked him.

- He let's out the funniest noise, blushing like crazy clutching his rear and asks: "Youch! What was that for?"

- If you let him know it was you being flirty or cheeky; he's just standing there smiling a goofy smile and has an extra pip in his step while he works. He probably won't get revenge (At least not right away) but he will be tickled pink that you liked his ass enough to smack it.

Billy Loomis

- He gets so damn serious and overdramatic with certain things that when he was rummaging for something and irritated he couldn't find it; you decided to make him shut up in the best way you knew how.

- *SMACK* He flinched, his back stiffened and a glare instantly crept onto his face. "...You are so dead."

- You better run. He gets this shit enough from Stu, now you? He secretly enjoys it but he's a lil edgelord that can't let you know that.

- Que him chasing you around the house, jumping over and tripping over furniture to either smack your ass ten times harder or punch you in the arm or hold you down and tickle you till you can't breathe.

Stu Macher

- He is CONSTANTLY smacking your ass. CONSTANTLY. You walk sideways and backwards around him! So when he's sitting on his bed in a weird way on his stomach or something with his ass up? Hell yes you're getting him!

- He either releases a genuine gasp because you took him by surprise or the fakest turned 'aauuugh!' moan to be a smart ass cause he knew what you were gonna do (He liked it. He wanted it. He's a whore like that.)

- He giggled and gave you a sadistic smile. "Oh, that ass is mine!" and the chase is on.

- If he catches you; he is holding you down and goosing and feeling you up just as much as smacking you. He is a giant perv and holding you down while squeezing and spanking your ass is definitely on his cumbucket list im js

- Unlike Billy who knows when enough is enough; Stu does not. Just warning that if he catches you he's turning it into something very fucking horny. He is feeling you up one way or another.

Severen Van Sickle

- He was almost always playful and he would just give you a pat on the ass out of excitement on the regular not even thinking about it. So when you finally returned the favor his whole body stiffened a bit and a smirk formed on his face.

- "Oh?...Ya like what ya see, babydoll?" He'd tease you. Not getting revenge but not letting you run away either. He'd fold his arms in that leather jacket and smirk down at you with a twinkle to his blue eyes. Getting closer, cornering you into the wall with one hand bracing it as he leaned over you.

- "Wanna try that again?" He asked. Hell you weren't sure if it was a warning or genuine glee. Eitherway he wasn't mad he just loved seeing you get flustered.

- He definitely teased the hell out of you the rest of the night. Even telling his family and loving seeing you blush. He secretly wants you to do it again and purposely bends over near you not only to be a teasing ass but because it got him excited. He actually is curious if you have the balls to do it again because if you do that's just fun! He'll make it a big sexy flirty game from here on out...Definitely doing it more in private too.

Baby Firefly

- I would not...That's a level of sadistic crazy you cannot contain but if you did? It's 50/50 how she'd react. Most likely, she'd play it up after you spanked her while she was getting something.

- "The flying fuck was that for?!" She glared and when you get sheepish like she wanted then a grin would appear. "Hey...Are you flirtin' with me, honey? You wanna smack my ass again? C'mon. I know you like it." She will literally expose her ass for you and you aren't sure what to do because she LOVED to manipulate and play mind games to get you submissive with her so...Was this a trap?

- If you do smack her ass again, she's definitely going to make it a 'My turn!' and smack you twice as hard before whispering something sexy in your ear...May or may not lead to a game of ass slap where she's winning and you're running away from her because she hurts!

Otis B. Driftwood

- Grouchest Motherfucker to ever exist unless he really is in a good mood. When he was working on an 'art piece' and was ignoring you on purpose you took the chance of smacking his ass.

- He dropped his needle and thread and glared at you. "...Are you fuckin' serious right now? I ain't got time for this ya lil shit!"

- However. He's full of shit himself saying it because whether you get solemn, bratty, playful, annoyed. Does not matter. He's giving you a 10 seconds headstart and telling you "Run lil rabbit run." With a smirk. Especially as he gets older. Prison made him appreciate the little things including having an S/O that wanted to get frisky.

- Once he catches you, and he will in time, he puts you over his knee whether you're at. Outside in the barn, in the woods, in the damn living room in front of everyone. Does not matter. He will give your ass a few swats from his hand till your squirming while taunting you "Ain't this fun? Ain't this what you wanted?" all before doing it a few more times. He ain't done till your teary eyed and squirming and your ass is blood red. Then he's dipping his hand down. Rubbing soothing circles while whispering naughty praise in your ear. "That's a good lil girl/boy/bunny for me...How about we take this back to my room and you can show Daddy how much ya want his attention?"

Winslow Foxworth 'Foxy' Coltrane

- He was a bit hungover. Groaning like the oldman he is and bent over to get another beer from the mini fridge in the room when you took a towel because you showered and you aren't nasty like him and Otis and just...Rolled it up and smacked his ass.

- He yelped and jolted a bit before giving you the most unamused glare. "Really?...Really, you lil fuck- Ow!" You definitely smacked him again the second he got close enough. Something about that second smack has a smirk on his face. A husky chuckle escapinging him because you just made this a thing. "Ohohoo, you're fuckin' in trouble now. Come the fuck over here, asscakes. I think you could use a few lickin's yourself."

- He has good reflexes and a high tolerance for pain so he just jerks that towel out of your hand when you go to smack him and loops it around your waist. Pulling you flush against him where you can't get free.

- He uses his large hands to grope your ass and give it a good smack while you're up against him and he's smirking down at you. "Ya like that, baby? You must really want to give me an excuse to feel up this fine ass of yours."

- It is most definitely 100% leading to the most nastiest raunchy dirty but fun sex. The type of sex that you aren't keen on sharing details about. He smacked your ass the entire time while talking dirty to you.

[zwoftt]

weekly dorym moments and other stuff in no particular order !!!

dorian casting foresight. liam fanboying.

liam sneezing and then robbie’s little “bless youuu” was so cute for no reason

robbie’s facial expressions this fight… he was so scared

orym being the only one dodging the big predathos fist, the excited cheer of robbie and the rest of the table.

“shadow-walk underneath me baby”. WAS A CRAZY LINE FROM IMOGEN HELPPPP IM SCREAMING

TRAVIS SAYING “if orym dies it’s robbie’s fault” IS SO FUNNY TO ME LIKE GOODBYEEEEE THE WAY THE WHOLE CAST IS DORYM LOVERS

awwwh robbie and liam making faces at each other the entire fight like cmon bro. when orym gets hit by predathos’s maw the first time, robbie shakes his head and laughs when liam looks over to him after saying “don’t worry guys! my potion- nope i take all of that damage.”

WHEN ORYM GETS EATEN BY PREDATHOS THE CONCERNED FACE ROBBIE DOES OMG

laudna getting that crit is INSANE BTW (with the beau dice))

crown of stars on dorian storm… what a beautiful sight tbh omg omg omg… the whole table fangirling and fanboying over it. “only son of the silken squall” MADE ME CRY SO HARD

“i have a wood chisel!” - chetney

oh my god orym pulling dorian in with seedling, healing him with a potion desperately, “we need you… i- i need you! can you get up? we need you!”. is cutting into my heart

THE FIRST THING DORIAN SEES IS ORYM GETTING KNOCKED UNCONSCIOUS. TRAUMATIC ASF.

the mass cure wounds coming out once again in clutch holy shit- the image of everyone coming back to life with dorian flying into the air, casting healing on everyone but himself…

“i can hold my breath, *forever*.” says dorian. orym with a brow raise, “tell me more…” STOPPP OMG THEY DESERVE TO BE HORNY BUT THIS IS INSANE

witches be bitches. witches be bitches.

the relentless rage was so badass from ashton damnnnnnnnn meowww

okay next episode they boutta talk to the gods and i better see a bitter dorian throwing up a middle finger at lolth.

[witchthewriter]

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞: 𝟐/𝟐𝟎/𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧: 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐂𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐢.

[venus-haze]

Pretty Tied Up (Otis Driftwood x Reader)

Summary: Or, the perils of working at Red Hot Pussy Liquors.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. This takes place between House of 1000 Corpses and The Devil’s Rejects. Based on the Guns N' Roses song. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Armed robbery and implied kidnapping. Sexually explicit content that involves extremely dubious consent and sadism, gags, bondage, groping, and gunplay. Otis is pretty much his own warning. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Having regulars at a liquor store was a double-edged sword. You got to know some customers well enough to like them, but over time you’d notice they looked increasingly worse for wear as they came up to the checkout with their usual purchases. The exception, of course, were the Fireflys, who you always found unsettling, despite Baby’s attempts to seem affable. 

“My brother likes you,” she said one day, leaning against the counter as you rang up three bottles of vodka and two six-packs of beer.

“RJ?” you asked, glancing at her brother standing a few feet behind her.

RJ was always nice enough. Didn’t say much. Tall. Burly. Strong. Ruggedly handsome. You’d be open to going out with him.

She laughed in her usual high-pitch that always toed the line of being spine-chilling. “No silly! I’m talkin’ ‘bout Otis.”

You stared at her blankly. “Who’s Otis?”

“You know, long hair, blue eyes, scruffy ol’ beard. He came in here the other night. You must’ve made one hell of an impression. He won’t shut up about ya.”

Oh yeah. Him. Bought a bottle of whiskey and a stack of hardcore BDSM porno magazines. ‘You ever look at this stuff?’ he’d asked, eyeing you as you put a magazine with a nude, distressed-looking woman suspended by intricate ropes on the cover into a brown paper bag. When you first started working there, you could hardly stomach the sight of the rougher fare. As time went on, you found yourself hesitantly intrigued. ‘Gotta have something to do besides go to church on Sundays,’ you replied, earning a wicked grin from him. 

“That’s nice,” you said.

She snickered. “My brother’s not nice.”

“Is this everything?” you asked, hoping to move the interaction along.

“Hey RJ, you gettin’ anything else?” Baby asked over her shoulder.

He shook his head, approaching to pick up the crate you put the bottles in.

Baby handed you a wad of cash. She almost always overpaid, letting you keep the change, which was most of the reason you humored her antics in the first place. “Thanks darlin’! See ya real soon!” she said, wiggling her eyebrows, keen to something you were yet to be aware of.

Two nights later you were working the store alone. Your coworker Billy didn’t even have the decency to call and let you know he wasn’t coming in–or quit. He just didn’t show up at 9:30 when he was supposed to, and your phone call to his house was met with a busy dial tone. Asshole.

It’d been a slow night anyway, but you would have appreciated the heads up, or at least another body in the place when the front door was kicked open.

“This is a robbery! Don’t fucking move or I’ll shoot!”

Despite the bandana covering the bottom half of his face, you knew who it was right away. Long, graying hair and piercing blue eyes that were burned into your memory from his last visit to the liquor store.

You lifted your hands in the air. Your manager had told you on your first day that there was always a possibility of this happening. Better to just let them take whatever cash and booze they wanted and report it to the police once they left. ‘Don’t go playin’ hero. We got insurance.’

“Keep those hands up,” Otis said, slowly approaching the counter. “I’m gonna walk back there, and you’re gonna open the register for me.”

You nodded, eyes glued to him as he slithered around the counter like a snake, gun steadily pointed at you. 

“Go on,” he said.

With a trembling hand, you opened the register, the cash-filled drawer popping open for him. He pressed the gun to your temple, instructing you to put the cash in one of the brown paper bags by your side. You tried not to glance at him too much while you stuffed the paper bag with the money, finally pushing it toward him and sticking your hands up again.

“Alright, now turn around.”

“Wh-What?”

“I ain’t got all night.”

You glanced at the door. No way you could make a run for it, but maybe someone would walk in and be able to do something.

He followed your gaze and let out a cruel scoff. “Ain’t nobody coming through that door who can save you. I’m the closest thing to salvation you’ll ever get. Now turn the fuck around.”

With a shaky breath, you did as you were told, freezing when you felt the barrel of the gun press against the back of your head. His free hand grabbed your ass through your jeans, his strong grip almost painful as he squeezed each cheek. “Wonder how much it’d take to make you bruise?” he mumbled, almost to himself. He squeezed again, harder this time, as if he were trying to dig his fingers into your flesh. “Too much work when I can just cut into ya.”

“Don’t hurt me,” you pleaded, though hearing your own voice, you weren’t quite sure how convinced you were that you didn’t want him to do his worst. Knowing what you did about the Firefly clan, the rumblings around Ruggsville about the strange family–it would be pretty damn bad.

“C’mon now, mama. You led me to believe you liked it rough,” he said, voice gravelly and low as he slipped his hand between your legs from behind, rubbing the rough denim material and your cotton panties against your pussy, the friction hitting your clit in just the right spot for you to let out a shameful moan. Your hand flew to your mouth, the other clenched in a fist as you tried not to give him the reaction he wanted. Didn’t want to prove him right. Show him how curious you were. You didn’t even have it in you to fight back, not when you were on the edge, so achingly close until suddenly you weren’t anymore.

You nearly whined when he pulled his hand away, horrified at yourself, your reaction to his groping you. He grabbed each of your arms, roughly pulling them behind your back and tying your wrists together with something itchy and uncomfortable that dug painfully into your skin as you fruitlessly tried to free yourself from the secure knot he made. What the fuck did he use? Your eyes widened at the carpet burn-like sensation that’d begun to sting your skin. The roll of twine beneath the register. You used to secure some customers’ more sensitive purchases sometimes. 

Fingers and cloth forced their way into your mouth until you were gagged with the bandana Otis had pulled off of his face. He turned you around, looking you over with a slow, satisfactory nod. “I was having trouble getting over this mental block in my art. Started drivin’ me crazy. Y’know, they showed this nature documentary about a group ‘a lions a while back. How they protect and provide for their families, stalk their prey and go in for the kill–do you ever think about how we’re the only species where killing is taboo? For the rest of the animal kingdom, it’s just nature, part of the circle of life. There was a scene where the lion saw a gazelle from way across the savannah, and it was like nothing else existed except for its prey. It couldn’t rest until it tore that damn thing apart. That’s how I felt when I saw you.”

You shook your head frantically, your pleas of mercy muffled by your gag. Fat tears blurred your vision until he morphed into something monstrous, straight out of a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. 

“I ain’t gonna kill ya,” he said, roughly petting your head, “not yet anyway, that’d be a waste when I’ve barely even started.” He gave you a mean grin as he grabbed a hold of your hair by the roots. “I got a lot planned for you. Those magazines gave me a lot of ideas too.”

He lowered the gun, dragging it between your breasts and further down your abdomen until he reached the waistband of your jeans. Using his other hand, he unbuttoned and unzipped them with alarming ease, pulling them down until they fell to your ankles. Your breath hitched as he pressed the barrel of the gun against your cunt, the thin fabric of your panties the only thing stopping him from being able to slide it inside of you. 

Still, the cool metal sent a shiver through you as he rubbed it against your clit, black spots creeping into your peripheral as you hyperventilated through his sadistic experiment. He was hard. That much you knew, but what frightened you, perhaps most of all, was how wet you had become since he tied you up. Your skin still screamed against the rough twine that’d been cutting into your flesh, soon to draw blood as you kept struggling.

Your hips jerked, pressing the gun barrel closer to your pussy that was eager to betray you and clench around it if he just pushed past your panties and shoved it up there. You didn’t want him to do that, not in your right mind. But no one in your situation could be considered in their right mind, could they?

“Don’t fight it,” he encouraged gruffly, blue eyes piercing through you as he watched your knees threaten to give out as you neared orgasm. “Give the devil his due, mama.”

Your hands curled into fists, nails threatening to break through the skin of your palm. Then he did it. Slipped the barrel of the gun past your soaked cotton panties. Your brain short-circuited in a rush of terror and thrill at the sensation. You came, eyelids fluttering shut, a guttural moan tearing from your throat and pushing through your gag. Your limbs felt like ghosts, incorporeal parts of you that could only offer a vague sense of feeling compared to the sensation that overwhelmed your body, pleasure and adrenaline coursing through your veins all the same.

Gun be damned, you collapsed against the checkout counter, unable to support yourself any longer. Your chest heaved, unable to catch your breath with the now saliva-soaked bandana still shoved halfway down your throat. An astounded whine escaped your lips when he brought the gun up to his nose and sniffed. “This is it, mama. This is the devil’s salvation.”

He wasn’t making any damn sense, or your brain was too fuzzy to comprehend what he was saying. All you knew about the devil was from the Bible and that stupid Dr. Satan story people regurgitated like spoiled food. If Otis was the devil, you’d believe it, though.

The sound of a car door slamming shut made your eyes widen, and you glanced over your shoulder, your muffled screams of either help or warning to however was approaching.

“Sorry about this, darlin’. We’ll have a lot more fun later,” he said, hitting you across the face with the gun, sending you to the brink of consciousness. 

The bell on the door faintly jingled, and the last thing you remember seeing was a large, familiar figure walking towards you.

“C’mon and help me get ‘er in the car,” Otis said just as you passed out. "Don't forget the cash."

[wreckedandpolemic]

mine - matty healy

(mdni) in which your husband feels the need to remind you exactly to whom you belong. a white and gold future fic. 2713 words.

warnings: problematic age gap, daddy kink, branding, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, praise, degradation, mild cumplay, dirty sleazy possessive man

You really, truly didn’t mean to find yourself in this situation. Sometimes, you’ll admit, it’s on purpose, playing up the brattiness until Matty snaps, doling out whatever punishment he wants as you cry and promise to be good next time. This time, though, it isn’t your fault. It isn’t. You can’t help it if your husband’s business partners see his young, hot wife and decide they want you for themselves. Besides, Matty’s always telling you to be polite, so you were. Smiling, laughing at their jokes, leaning forward as you listen with interest.

It’s not your fault if some (old, stupid) man takes that as the wrong kind of interest. Matty watches as he stumbles through attempts to flirt with you, pet names tripping clumsily off his tongue. Steam practically curls off your husband, his face hardening in fury as you smile blithely, accepting the affections without encouraging anything; he doesn't take the hint. When he tucks a loose piece of hair behind your ear, trailing his hand down in a garish attempt to touch your tit, Matty catches his wrist in a punishing grip. “Keep your fucking hands off my wife, yeah? Unless you wanna get knocked the fuck out.” His usually-subtle accent bleeds over his words, roughens their edges. Everyone suddenly becomes very interested in the silverware and heat prickles under your skin as Matty’s grip tightens on your waist, possessive.

He pulls you in for a kiss, slow and deep and an obvious performance, a public message: mine. Matty stays tight with anger the whole evening, the tension in his shoulders not loosening until you’re spread out on the bed, your dress crumpled somewhere on your living room floor and your hair haloed out on the pillow as he stares down at you. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you say cautiously, and his face softens.

“Oh, baby, I’m not mad at you,” he promises, climbing over you to press a gentle kiss to your lips. You accept it eagerly, the bitter taste of red wine lingering on his lips. “Just need to make sure everyone knows whose girl you are, yeah? So pretty, baby. Drives me fuckin’ crazy. You know, every single one of those men wanted to take you home. Can see it in the way they look at you.”

You flush, a note of pride creeping under your skin. “But they can’t,” you say, a slow smirk spreading across his face.

“That’s right. You’re Daddy’s girl, yeah? I’m the only one who gets to take you home, gets to see you all pretty and pleading and spread out for me, yeah? Bet they go home and dream about seeing you like this.” His nails dig into your skin as he grips your hips, snapping the elastic of your panties against your skin.

“Only you, Daddy,” you promise, and Matty presses a kiss between your tits, just over your heart. It thuds faster, calling out for his touch, a wave of love crashing over you as you sigh happily. “All yours,” you say, pouting as he climbs off you and goes to root in a dresser drawer for something.

He comes back to you with an uncapped Sharpie, grinning as you shudder. “Need to make sure everyone knows whose girl you are, yeah?” You nod shakily, Matty kneeling over you and leaning down. The scrape of the pen against your decolletage sends a shiver up your spine, something close to pain but not quite it blooming where the ink stains your skin. Concentration is evident on his face as he writes, the letters bold and clear as he moves down your body. Sitting up to admire his handiwork, Matty plucks at the strap of your bra. “Can you take this off for me, princess? Wanna see your pretty tits.” You obey thoughtlessly, arching your back to slip a hand behind you and unhook your bra, tossing it carelessly to the floor. Naked but for your panties with Matty fully clothed on top of you, you shiver, exposed. There’s something that feels right about it, though, handing Matty all the power like this, and trusting that you’ll only love what he does with it.

“What did you write, Daddy?” you ask, craning your neck to try to read, but the letters are upside down and your skin bends in a way that makes the letters illegible.

Matty pushes you back down gently. “Here, darling. Let me show you.” He slides his phone out from his back pocket and takes a couple of photos before handing it to you. Eagerly, you drink in the sight of yourself, heat in your cheeks and your lips red and kiss-bitten. Then, your eyes track across the words scrawled on your skin. Property of M. Healy. A pulse of heat throbs in your belly so thickly it almost hurts, liquid desire dripping between your legs and pooling in your underwear.

Property. You turn the word over in your mind, savouring the way it traces deliciously up your spine. Matty’s property, his kept girl, his pretty toy, his to do with whatever he wants. The thought makes your head go fuzzy, the idea of being his whenever and wherever he wants melting your insides to goo. “You own me, Daddy,” you murmur, his eyes so wide with lust that they look black.

“That’s fuckin’ right,” he breathes, stripping out of his suit and boxers, his cock thudding against his belly. Eagerly, you slide your panties down your legs and kick them to the floor, watching Matty’s eyes fall to your soaked cunt. “So wet for me, princess. Does it get you off, knowing you’re all mine?” You nod, drool pooling in your mouth  as he strokes his cock slowly. “Such a good girl. My good girl. Can see how bad you want it. Bein’ so patient, princess.”

Trembling, it’s a fight to keep still, keep your hands to yourself. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, Matty still just watching. “Please, Daddy,” you whine desperately. “Can do whatever you want to me,” you breathe, and the words finally snare him, his eyes darkening as he falls on top of you.

“Whatever I want, yeah?” he murmurs, a gush of heat flooding between your legs at his words. “C’mon, sweet girl. Legs up for me. Gonna fuckin’ ruin you,” he promises, thumbing over the bold, stark letters on your skin. He dips his head, biting a harsh bruise into your neck, one you know will be luridly purple by the next time he takes you out. You giggle as he takes a greedy handful of one of your tits, grasping possessively. “These pretty tits are mine, yeah?”

“Yours,” you whimper, the heat between your legs unbearable as Matty works his way down your body, repeating it like a litany as he grasps possessively at your skin.

“These hips.” His. “This ass.” His. “These pretty thighs.” His. “This sweet, needy little cunt.”

A strangled moan escapes you as he brushes his fingers featherlight over your clit, teasing. Desperation wells under your skin, your cunt aching with need. “S’all yours, Daddy. ‘M your property,” you moan, rolling your hips up against nothing.

“That’s right,” he grins. “Bein’ such a good girl for Daddy, princess.” A moan of pure lust spills from your lips as Matty licks a broad, flat stripe over your cunt, your hands fisting in the sheets at the wave of pleasure that cascades over you. He laps at you insistently, setting a dizzying rhythm over your swollen clit. You tremble with the effort of keeping still, letting Matty do what he wants while you take it like a good girl. “S’okay, baby. Wanna hear those pretty sounds you make, feel that sweet little cunt grinding on my face,” he murmurs, the words vibrating through your core.

Matty wraps his lips around your clit, the sensation making your body jolt as he sucks on your swollen bundle of nerves. Heat blooms under your skin as Matty tongues at you and moans into your cunt, the vibration rolling gloriously through you. He digs his fingers into your thighs, so hard that you know there’ll be bruises tomorrow, further proof he owns you. Mind-melting pleasure winds deliciously through you, Matty plunging his tongue deep inside you, devouring you from the inside out.

He refuses to fall into a rhythm, refuses to let you get complacent, switching between sucking on your clit, licking at your hole and tonguefucking you at a dizzying pace. Whining incoherently, you fist a hand in his curls and grind your hips up against his mouth. Matty’s nose bumps your clit as you writhe, legs kicking in the air. Molten pleasure melts your brain, dripping sticky from your ears and puddling on the mattress. “Are you close, sweet girl?” Matty asks, pulling away to kiss wetly at your thighs. Your hazy, addled mind struggles to latch onto his words, and you gasp as he blows cold air over your clit. “I asked you a question, princess.”

“‘M sorry, Daddy,” you whimper reflexively. “Yeah. Yeah, ‘m close,” you whine, tugging on his hair to pull him back to your cunt. Matty’s fingers join his tongue, a bolt of ecstasy striking between your legs at the scrape of his calloused fingers. He works skilfully at your clit, your legs turning to jelly as waves of pleasure pin you to the mattress. “F-fuck, Daddy, m’gonna cum, want it s’bad, please, please, please!” you cry out, babbling incoherent pleas into the air above you.

“Go on, darling. Cum for Daddy.” He pairs the words with a harsh pinch to your clit, your body wracking with shudders as you pitch over the edge. Pleasure drips stickily down your spine, your vision blurring as your orgasm crashes through you. Matty doesn’t let up, sucking insistently on your clit, your cunt still pulsing with the aftershocks.

Pleasure tinged with pain kicks under your skin, overstimulation burning between your thighs. “S’too much, Daddy, I can’t–” you whimper, his free hand pinning your hips down when you try to squirm away.

“‘Whatever you want,’ you said,” Matty reminds you, running a finger through your sensitive folds. “What I want is for you to take it like a good girl, okay?” You nod shakily, swallowing thickly around a whine. “There’s my sweet girl. Colour?”

“‘M green,” you promise, shifting your hips and moaning when Matty’s tongue finds your clit again. You choke on a gasp as he sinks two fingers into you, meeting no resistance at your soaked hole.

“Such a good girl,” Matty murmurs, kissing and biting the soft flesh of your thighs, marking you as his, the undercurrent of pain glorious weaved through the pleasure licking up your spine. He finger-fucks you hard, your cunt clenching and legs kicking in the air, a second orgasm already building at the base of your spine. “My fucking girl, yeah?” Your hand drifts unconsciously down to where his name is written just below your tits. “All those men today wanted you, princess. Wanted you so badly,” he coos, your mind staticky as his fingers thrust in and out of you at a pace that sends you reeling. “Wanted my gorgeous, sexy, irresistible, perfect fucking wife,” he groans, punctuating every adulation with a quick, deep thrust, moans spilling endlessly from your lips. 

“Can’t have me,” you slur out, your mind off-balance against Matty’s unfaltering pace.

“That’s right, princess,” he says, pride colouring his tone. “You’re mine. All mine. That’s my  ring on your finger, my name next to yours.” he growls. Maybe that’s not enough. Maybe I should take you out like this, show the whole fuckin’ world how much you love bein’ all fucked-out for me, wearin’ my name, bein’ my property.” You give a helpless, strangled moan, turned on beyond words. “God, you love that, don’t you, baby? Such a good little slut for Daddy. Do you wanna cum, angel?”

“God, yes, please, please, please!” you scream out, writhing and squirming uncontrollably as the tide of pleasure wells up inside of you, threatening to overwhelm.

Matty kisses your clit softly, your cunt fluttering around his fingers at the sensation. “God, you beg so pretty, baby. Go on, darling, cum,” he orders, and your body obeys. Your second orgasm is even more intense than the first, pure pleasure washing over you and wiping your mind clean. Your vision whites out, a scream you’re only dimly aware comes from your own throat ringing out. Euphoria burns from your core, flooding your limbs, hot and intense.

You come back to Earth to Matty’s tongue working insistent and sure over your clit, your body going boneless against the fervid pleasure winding up your spine. “Again?” you whimper.

Matty pinches your hip with his free hand. “Don’t be a brat. How many times have I told you I wanna spend all day with my tongue buried in this sweet cunt? ‘S what I want, princess, like you said. SHould be thankin’ me. Colour?”

“‘M still green, Daddy. Thank you,” you say dopily, letting your eyes slip closed as pure electricity washes over you. 

You lose count of how many times Matty makes you cum, skilled fingers and tongue sending you spiralling over and over and over again. Your body feels barely a body; ecstasy in place of organs, pleasure in place of bones. When he’s finally satisfied, pulling away with his lips and chin fucking dripping with your arousal, your cunt feels sore and swollen, and you know you won’t be walking right for weeks. He climbs over you, pulling your jaw open like you’re a fucking doll and spitting the taste of you into your mouth. You swallow instinctively, smiling up at him and showing off your clean tongue.

“Good girl,” Matty coos. “Got you trained up so good, hm? God, I fucking love you, my girl,” he groans, leaning down to kiss you so that the taste of you smears further across your tongue.

“Love you too,” you say, gazing up into his eyes, lust-darkened but still liquid with adoration. “Yours forever,” you promise, lifting your left hand so your wedding ring catches the light.

Matty kneels up to take in the sight of you, fucking wrecked for him, his eyes blowing wide at his name in stark ink on your skin. He unbuckles his belt, freeing his cock, flushed red and drooling. Two fingers swipe through your soaked cunt, and you whimper at the prospect of cumming again. “S’okay, darling, m’not gonna make you go again,” Matty promises, wrapping his wet hand around his cock. “See how hard you make me, angel?” He tips his head back with a groan, slowly pumping his cock. “All for you. M’yours.”

“Made for each other,” you say breathily, eyes glued to the point where his cock disappears into his fist.

Moaning low in his throat, Matty nods. “Made for each other,” he agrees, fucking his fist wildly. You can tell from his face, the way his motions get more erratic with every passing second, that he’s close. With a gasp of your name, he’s cumming, white ropes splashing on your belly and over your tits. His jaw goes slack as he gazes down at you, his cum splattered over the brand of his name driving him wild. “Fuck. Look so fuckin’ gorgeous, darling. God, I wanna keep you like this forever.”

You giggle. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “Can I?” he murmurs, awed.

“As many as you like, Daddy,” you smile. “I’m your property, remember? Your little slut. Your pretty cumdump.”

Matty gives a shuddering moan. “For such a princess, you’ve got a filthy fuckin’ mouth,” he chuckles, retrieving his phone from his discarded jacket. He takes at least a dozen pictures, pausing in between each to stare at you, unabashed arousal in his face.

“I learned it from you,” you smirk; you both know that isn’t true, but he likes hearing it. You drag two fingers through the mess on your stomach and suck them clean, grinning proudly up at him.

“Fuck,” Matty groans, cock twitching valiantly as he watches you. “God, drives me fuckin’ crazy when you do that. Makin’ me wanna fuck you properly, baby.”

A thrill skitters up your slime. “Please?”

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

I got a lil idea with Otis with a s/o that likes to were a beauty headband with bunny ears to keep they hair out of there face when there drawing or relaxing 👀👀👀 feel like it would be a recipe for trouble lol

-❤️‍🔥

Rabbit

a/n: omg you have NO IDEA how much i love this!! thank you so much for this i had so too much fun writing it! <3

pairing: otis x afab!reader

warnings: smut, oral sex (m receiving), otis calls reader 'rabbit', no pronouns used but it's implied that reader has long hair

word count: 407

"What the fuck is that thing?" Otis asked, tugging at the bunny ears on your head.

"It's a headband," you simply told him, readjusting it. "It keeps the hair out of my face."

"Oh yeah? Well ain't it just convenient that they're little bunny ears," he smirked, toying with the ears again.

"Otis," you warned. "Where is this going?"

"It's going somewhere good is where it's going," he mused, crushing you under the weight of his stare.

"And what's your definition of good?"

You knew there was no way you could say no to him, and you could absolutely see where this was going, but you were more interested in seeing how long you could drag this out.

He leaned back on the bed, opening his legs slightly, an amused grin on his face as he looked down at his crotch. "Come on, rabbit, I know you want to."

"Want to what?" You teased, shifting closer to him on the bed. "I ain't doing nothing 'till you tell me."

Otis simply looked down at his crotch again, like that would somehow serve as a decent enough answer. And it did, but you weren't about to tell him that.

You swung your leg over his waist, straddling his lap, unable to hide your amusement as you leaned down to press a kiss to his neck.

"Am I getting closer?" You asked, your breath hot against his skin, your lips twisting into a smirk.

A dissatisfied sigh fell from his lips, as he dug his fingers into your thighs. "I ain't playin' no games, rabbit."

"Who said it was a game?" You questioned. "I was only askin' if I was close."

In response, he pushed his fingers harder into your thighs, making sure you knew he wasn't interested in messing around.

You sighed. "Fine, I'll suck your fuckin' dick."

You scooted down his body slightly, opening his pants, and soon enough, you had your hand wrapped around his dick.

"You know, I expect a certain level of enthusiasm when it comes to these things," Otis said. "And you don't look very enthusiastic."

You didn't bother to answer him as you wrapped your lips around his tip, his hips jerking beneath you from the sudden motion.

As you took him into your mouth, you could feel him playing with the bunny ears on your head, quiet groans falling from his lips.

"That's right," he muttered, petting your head. "That's right."

[ Main Masterlist ]

[ghoulsbounty]

Hii! What's your headcanons about relationship with Otis Driftwood? Nothing too violent towards reader after they became a s/o, if you could, without going into ooc <3

Otis Driftwood In a Relationship

Warnings: smut (18+), control, possessiveness, gaslighting, mentions of sex work (not reader), canon-typical violence, aggression, narcissism, it's otis - he is a warning!

Words: 1.1K

A/N: Thank you for my first Otis request! I've been in love with this man for going on twenty years so I have lots of headcanons for him. I feel like this is realistically (to me) how he would have a relationship with someone who wasn't either a victim or murderer while still keeping him in character (I hope!) Also yes I had to get the quote in the last bullet, I was watching the film as I wrote this. I hope you enjoy it. I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

→ It's widely known that Otis harbours some unconventional interests. In the small town of Ruggsville, the Firefly family's prominence, especially their ties to local celebrity Captain Spaulding, is undeniable. In this backwater community, everyone has their own shades of darkness when it comes to entertainment or survival, so you don't bat an eyelash at the rumours circulating about the family.

 → Otis charms you with his quick wit and sharp tongue, an aura of danger enveloping him and lingering in his presence. He frequents the local watering hole where you work, spending quiet summer evenings regaling you with stories of travelling the country with his younger sister, moving from one stolen car to the next. When you ask why he returned to the dead-end town, he nonchalantly declares that family is the most important thing to him. And then, with a mischievous grin, he casually mentions his involvement in a Satanic cult. 

→ Otis thinks that perhaps what draws him to you is your refusal to flinch at his unsavoury stories or the sly smirk you offer when he alludes to the sweet taste of your skin. He enjoys the recoil from others, welcomes it even because it's what he's known since he was a child and means he's got the upper hand. You give him pause, a dangerous thing indeed. In you, he sees a kindred spirit equally disillusioned with societal norms, and he wonders how long it will take to break you. 

→ With every aspect seemingly covered, there's no obvious place for you in his life. Yet, thoughts of you intrude on his mind during the day, distracting him from his tasks. The persistent idea that you might offer something different to his routine gradually consumes him, eroding all other thoughts until only you remain. 

→ His carnal needs are met by the bottom feeders he keeps around for a quick release. Sometimes, when their pleading becomes bothersome and he wants the peace and quiet, he will end it fast because it's easier when they're cold. He pulls them into his cot and curls into them until they have festered and rotten to the point that Tiny has to dispose of them. If it's a willing body he seeks, a trip to the whorehouse suffices. 

→ It's a few months before you meet the family. Otis doesn't need to tell you the importance of the moment, you can sense it in his tense demeanour, permeating the lounge as Mama parades you around the room like a prize pig at the county fair. You sense his eyes upon you, observing your reactions to each member, particularly noting your response to Tiny's imposing presence and your handling of Grandpa's vulgarity. In his mind, he rationalizes that you'll need a strong stomach if you are going to be with him. 

→ You are under no illusion that you're not the only person from whom Otis seeks comfort. He isn't shy about the fact that he needs more than what you can give him, says as much when he insists on you leaving him be for a few days to exorcise his darker urges. He doesn't approach the subject of you joining him sometimes until he is certain that you won't spring like a scared rabbit. When he finally does ask, you accept with a morbid curiosity.

→ Otis certainly has his private indulgences, but he takes great pleasure in involving you in some of his less solitary activities. Whatever the pursuit may be, it often concludes with him inside of you, his teeth leaving raw marks on your skin as he draws out multiple orgasms from your pliable body.

→ In these moments, he alternates between showering you with praise and delivering sharp, cutting remarks, his rough fingers encircling your throat as he thrusts into you with relentless force, pushing you to the brink of ecstasy until you're cock drunk and screaming his name. He relishes in the intensity of the experience, breaking you down only to rebuild you according to his desires, sculpting you into his perfect masterpiece.

→ Over time, Otis's possessiveness and control puts an end to your employment, your independence dwindling in the face of your need to be with him and his need for your servitude. His affection is conditional upon your compliance and submission, and when you prove yourself to him is when you get your reward of a tender kiss to your nose, or being pulled into his lap for a warm embrace. His love is a privilege to be earned, and he is fast to take it away if he deems you unworthy of it.

→ Otis perceives you as an extension of himself, expecting you to conform to his desires and interests. He finds pleasure in your engagement with his world, he likes when you lounge on his stained mattress in nothing but his shirt listening to his musings on the complexities of human nature. He encourages you to challenge his viewpoints, igniting debates that fuel his passion.

→ However, you soon discover that venturing into this territory can be perilous. It often results in Otis's eyes blazing with fury, his hands trembling with conviction as he towers over you, unleashing a torrent of berating and belittling words until you find yourself on your knees before him. It's a volatile dance of intellectual stimulation intertwined with the raw intensity of his dominance.

→ It falls to you to navigate these moments, gently guide him back to a sense of equilibrium with a steady stream of apologies and affirmations, trail open mouthed kisses down his body until you feel him relax under your touch. Sometimes his tumultuous thoughts wouldn't waver and he'd either take his frustrations out on your cunt or push you away until you are begging at his door. For Otis, isolation becomes a test of your loyalty—will you stay, or run? 

→ And time and again, you choose to stay, receiving no verbal apology afterward because that is Otis' way. However, when he deems fit, he leaves small tokens on the bedside table for you to find in the morning—a small sculpture, a painting—his non-verbal way of acknowledging his feelings about his actions. You know better than to draw attention to these gestures. Instead, you offer a kiss to his lips as a silent acknowledgment of his effort to make amends. His response is typically playful yet affectionate, a light smack on your behind accompanied by an eye roll, never one to dwell on sentimentality.

→ Overall, Otis is content with you, would dare say happy. You fit into his life with ease, don't give him much grief when you're not busy bitching a song about nothing. However, the devil makes work for idle hands, and there's still work to be done in fully acclimating you to his ways. He does love watching you break.

[intotheelliwoods]

Here to announce that I for one love the future design for donnie in the comic ✋🥺

[solomiracle]

levi wanting to live his dream of getting hit by a truck and being reborn as an isekai protag so in the human world he runs in front of a truck but because he's a demon the truck gets fucking demolished and he walks away with the tiniest of scratches. he's suffering

[msookyspooky]

How the Slashers Apologize to their S/O

Something quick

Slashers Mentioned: Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Severen Van Sickle, Jesse Hooker, Otis Driftwood, Baby Firefly, Foxy Coltrane

Billy Loomis:

- "I'm sorry....😒...Sorry you're such a dramatic fucking-"

- An apology is just more petty jabs and arguing. He is a spoiled rich boy that only apologized to Sidney as an act; he is arrogant and petty as it gets otherwise

- WILL bring it back up like a lil bitch because he loves manipulating to play the victim

- You will have to be the bigger person or call a truce.

- Once a truce is called he surpringly may apologize in his awkward way or just never ever bring it up again

Stu Macher:

- Spoiled rich boy number 2

- If you say something like: *Say you're sorry!*

He has a shit eating smirk " Fine. You're sorry. I forgive you, babe 😇😏."

- Absolutely infuriating. Everything is a joke to him including your anger. Only if you deny him something is he giving a half assed apology but if he can fuck you or buy you something instead then he will.

- "Alright alright! I get it, you're just all in your emotions-" He would make a mocking face "Sorry baby, ya know I don't think and just say stuff!" Followed by him wanting whatever it was he wants.

Bo Sinclair:

- His face when you demand an apology because...What is that? He never got or gave one.

- Probably the most stubborn on here. Traumatized and prideful and stubborn af.

- Will intimidate in an argument, try to play the dom brat-tamer, seduce you thinking you're just 'testing him' like he thinks you always are. That he can just 'fuck' the attitude out of you. When those don't work bc you're GENUINELY upset? Silent treatment. Both out of defensive anger and uncomfortable feeling with being held responsible for your hurt/anger.

- "I ain't apologizin for SHIT, sweetheart." And he probably means that shit too.

- But he is more giving than Billy Loomis even if their responses are similar. Billy is more moody while Bo is more explosive yet action oriented. So, even if he won't apologize; EVENTUALLY if it means that damn much to you he'll do something for you as a silent apology. Best you're gonna get from him.

- Like expect something you wanted fixed or he keeps silently bringing you your favorite things like a dog

Vincent Sinclair:

- He is Bo's identical previously conjoined twin; his muteness don't mean nothing. They are both STUBBORN and controlling in different ways. Bo more than Vincent but I promise if you got on Vincent's way or accidentally broke a wax sculpture...Yep, you'll see it. They just express it differently. Bo is nagging and controlling with his relationships and town and Vincent is his work. It doesn't help they both were probably never apologized to a day in their lives and vice versa

- Silent treatment and avoiding you. If he's mad; He's slamming things like Bo just not mouthing off. If you're mad; Unlike Bo who pokes to get a reaction; he just avoids you.

- But...He's just as if not more indebted to a partner than his twin is so you may get an apology via handwritten note but he will not be anywhere near and would prefer you just act like you never saw it and it never happened.

Lester Sinclair:

- "Me?? But-...Baby, c'mon..."

- I hc he's either much older than the twins or much younger. Either way, he too was not taught how to properly say sorry...Ever.

- He pouts. He's got a fierceness about him too when he's mad but he's not nearly as stubborn as his brothers so once the arguing is over he's bummed out.

- Tries to make his sulking obvious hoping you'll be swayed and when that doesn't work he uncomfortably tells you, "Sunshine, I ain't good at this. None of us Sinclair's are so I'm so-...I'm sor-...Sorry." He cringes like you branded him.

- As awkward as it gets but gets you flowers to soften the blow

Severen Van Sickle:

- Absolutely teases you, "Aww are ya mad at me, sugarplum?" like it's cute that you're mad because to him it probably is. If you smirk even a little, even out of nervousness, he will not take any of this seriously.

- Will tease like it's cute. If that don't work? He's being like Bo and gonna seduce you to fuck that attitude out of you.

- Has to REALLY see you mad and then he gets a bit exasperated and defensive, "Hmph, yer serious? Oh c'mon! Ya can't actually be that damn mad!"

- Welp, you are.

- Is stubborn, not Sinclair 'doesn't even know that word' stubborn or Billy Loomis 'I'd rather die' stubborn but stubborn. Ignores you but let's everyone know like a petty boy; "Oh yeah, YN over there ain't talkin' to me tonight." Looks at one of them, "Well, go ask them! Since I'M IN THE FUCKIN' DOG HOUSE-" with a glare at you.

- His hot headed, petty, stubbornness only last a night or two at best before he's wrapping his arms around you from behind

- "...Honey, I'm... Sorry." He says it softly, quietly against your skin for only you to hear but his voice doesn't waver. "Can ya go back to being friends, amigos, best pals; preferably with benefits? Pleassseee?" he'd lay on the charm thick trying to get you to crack a smile so he knows you're not mad anymore

Jesse Hooker:

- Glares coldly at you and paces like an animal in private when no one else is watching

- He's not use to any of you challenging him. He's a tough old bird but damn it you just have a way of getting under his skin. Probably over something dumb too.

- He's not making petty digs like Billy or Severen. Not Slamming things or avoiding you like the Sinclair Twins either.

- No he leads. Acts more gruff and short than usual but if he has to talk to you he will it's just very cold and quick and to the point.

- He COULD apologize...But damn he hates to. Even more than Severen.

- Probably won't; trying to see if you crack first. Only way he's cracking is if you outstubborn him. Bonus points if it's in a situation

- "...Fine. Sorry! Now can we get goin?" He'd grumble gruffly while loading his gun.

- Eventually in a few nights he's like, "YN...Let's talk." And sighs before trying to come to some type of truce here

Otis Driftwood: (Idc they should've kept him like this all 3 movies)

- Never in a million years even when something is entirely his fault. He could set you on fire and say it was your fault.

- In fact, out of everyone here, he is thee MOST unhinged and that is saying something.

- He will literally be like, "Sorry?" While mockingly laughing, "Bitch/Prick/Fucker, you outta be grateful yer ass is luckier than a goddamn two peckered fuckin billy goat I'm not gutting you like a fish as we speak!"

- ...He's not joking either. Unless you're as crazy as Baby and 'family' enough...He will. So you better drop it, sex him up or leave 😬

Baby Firefly:

- Again, never.

- In her family? Just bumping into each other is 'move outta the fuckin way' or spilling something is 'Goddamn it!-' followed by blaming someone somehow for the milk falling. They will blame a person 10 feet away like 'Look what you did!'

- Only way is if it wasn't THAT serious and she can pout and feel you up trying to use sex as a get out of jail free card very much like Severen all flirty and "Aww you mad? You're real cute when your mad, ya know that?"

- If it's serious? It would have to be life or death.

- Like, srsly life or death or she's just beyond done with your bs.

- and you're getting a "Sorry you're such a goddamn baby bitch about every fuckin thing! Now can we move the fuck on already!? Fuccckkkkk!"

Foxy Coltrane:

- Lol. Again, never.

- Most arguments end in a truce and him just groaning and being like, "Any-goddamn-way..."

- If he really fucked up his apologies are almost like Stu mixed with Severen like some snake oil salesman type charm

- "Aw sweet thang, c'mon...Look. I'm fuckin' sorry, alright!?...Goddamn-" Followed by him tsking and rubbing his beard before laying on that charm. "Ya want me to beg? I can't do that but I will lick that sexy ass body head to toe till you forget why yer mad then fuck you so long and hard in that mattress; ya forget yer own fuckin' name to boot."

- That's the best you're getting.

[intimacyequalsdeath]

#9 and #25 w/ Otis ?🫢🫠

Of course! Thank so so much for the request and as usual my apologies this took so long! The prompts requested for this one are as follows:

Prompt 9: "Run" Prompt 25: "Fuck you"

For future requests the prompt list is HERE

Notes: Minors DNI, No Specific descriptions of reader or pronouns are used.

TW: Canon typical violence, Otis Driftwood is pretty much his own trigger warning so just use your own discretion please <3

"Fuck you!"

You spat at Otis from your spot on the landing of the stairs. He fixed you with an incredulous look from his spot standing at the top of the stairs.

"Baby you better watch your goddamn mouth when your talking to me"

You rolled your eyes at him, you had been here long enough to know that when it came to you most of what Otis said was empty threats. You made Otis soft, something that Baby thought was absolutely hilarious.

"No Otis! Fuck you! You always do this shit to me. You get my hopes up and then get wrapped up in 20 other things"

You were angry with him because once again had he promised to you that he would take you out somewhere special and then when the day came he had gotten busy with 20 different things, half of which included his own "Projects".

"Bunny I fuckin' told you I don't know how goddamn sorry you want me to be. I have important shit I gotta do"

"I'm tired of being second in your life Otis"

You bit back a smile, your plan being employed. You knew how to get Otis where you wanted him. The only person in the entire world who knew how to work up the killer without becoming one of his victims.

"Sugar don't start with me"

"No Otis, I'm tired of it! If you won't do anything about it then maybe, maybe I'll just go find someone who has time for me then"

You saw Otis stiffen at your words. A thick tense fog of uncertain emotion falling between the two of at your standoff on the stairs. Hook, line and sinker, you got Otis exactly where you want him.

"The fuck did you just say to me?"

"I said maybe I'd just go find a man who'd give me his time"

Otis spat out a laugh as he slowly began descending the stairs toward you.

"Fine, If you think I don't have time for you I'll fuckin' show you time. Run."

As fast as the word had come out of his mouth you bolted. You breeze through the living room and out the front door. You heard Mama from some where behind you scolding Otis for the running in the house as usual when the two of you were up to your antics.

You shot out of the house and crossed the yard into the brush and trees. Though you knew deep down your attempts to flee were fleeting, Otis would catch up, he always did but you didn't care all too much. You wouldn't have it any other way.

The tall grass whipped against your legs as you ran through it. You dodged under tree limbs and over top of fallen trees until you found a small clearing with a large stump almost smack in the middle of it.

You sat, perfectly in the middle of the stump and waited for Otis. Yourself, presented to him like a gift as you stripped off your shirt and pants and leaned back onto your hands as you waited for him to appear in the brush.

Within a few moments there he was, standing between the trees that surrounded the clearing. His eyes raked up and down your body as he approached you, taking his time to make sure he took you in as much as possible.

You grinned up at him, taking a lip between your teeth.

"Is this enough time for you?"

Otis remarked as you stood from the stump to meet him halfway, Gently moving your discarded clothes off to the side as you stood.

"You know I wasn't actually that mad, It's just frustrating when your so busy and I wanna spend time with you"

"Yellin' at me ain't the way to fix it though"

"But it's the only way you'll hear me. Well, except when I'm like this"

You said motioning to your bare body, Otis smirked as he reached to place his hands on your waist to pull you closer.

"I'm a hardheaded motherfucker aren't I?"

"Otis Driftwood, you are the most stubborn man I've ever met"

"But you're still here aren't you?"

"As if I'd actually be allowed to leave"

"That's right, You're mine. Even if you left I'd hunt you down to the ends of the earth"

"I wouldn't wanna leave"

You whispered to him, despite the fact you were the only two in the clearing. You pressed your lips to his and he slipped his tounge into your mouth.

Otis pulled away after fighting for dominance of your mouth and smiled darkly at you.

"You know, I heard there's some bad men in these woods. You really shouldn't be out here naked like this. Who knows what could happen to you"

"mmm, bad men you say? what kind of bad men"?

"Men that would take advantage of little bunnies like you"

"That'd be a shame wouldn't it. You're not one of those bed men are you?"

"Oh sugar, I'm the worst"

You grinned up at him as you leaned in so your chest was against his still clothed one.

"Ya know, I was hoping you'd say that"

[natp20]

BRENNAN-

[gomzdrawfr]

Can we know more about Ghost with Raven? For those of us who are new here. 👉👈 I'm especially curious if Price is involved when those two are together, or how his dynamic is with the both of them if not. OT3? Do we throw Nik in there somewhere? Get all the poly going on? Or is it just Ghost and Raven against the world? 🤍

Hello!! Welcome to my lil ramble spot :3

I like to mix up my OC with the other characters for fun 😂 (imagine me holding them like dolls and smashing their faces together) and make things up along the way. So my uhhh explanations are gonna be wonkey

Rambles below! Kinda messy sorry!

GhostRaven started off as a separate thing, the idea was to explore something different like “these two are always fighting and cursing each other out but you mess with either one of them they will make sure you regret” or “I hate you so much vs You want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid” vibe, yk. I just like to make them bud their heads together. The other part of it was just wanting to see what two people who have fucked upbringing would behave in a relationship since Raven’s lore is based off of Ghost (well kinda)

I do have like, a whole backstory for GhostRaven like PriceRaven but I just never really compiled it or make it official because my brain could only get organized for one pair at the moment 😂 This itself can be a whole post which I’ll share next time if you are interested about it!

Tbh, I started off with GhostRaven first when I decided to make a cod oc, but because OC x Ghost stuff usually get targeted for no reason (on anywhere really, but tumblr is the safest among all the platforms I see) so I didn’t post much about them until much much later xD I got nervous doing PriceRaven back then too but eventually I kind of just went on and ramble about them once I felt comfortable enough :3 so for the longest time it was just PriceRaven or GhostRaven

Then I decided to spice it up with Price in it (PriceGhostRaven is thus born) (and also, Im projecting to Raven cuz I want Price and Ghost both HFHSHSHSH) There’s no real answer to the way their dynamic works but I did had a few stories? Or ideas? As to how the three of them became a thing? xD

I like to imagine Price and Ghost had a thing going on, and then Price went on ahead with Raven and Ghost was just kinda chilling, and then Raven found out their history and went “so what if”, Ghost goes “huh” and then Price went “yeah so are you in or not” and Ghost went “sure fuck it why not”— yeah HAHA Price is the one calling the shot in their relationship, Ghost and Raven follows (tho Raven can be a tiny bit of a brat sometimes)

The other part is GhostRavenPrice where it’s mostly Ghost and Raven ganging up and spoiling Price…imagine two grumpy growling wolf(GhostRaven) surrounding their owner(Price) - that’s the vibe 😂 I like to draw em in a way that both Ghost and Raven are possessive and insane with their way of “loving” another, and Price just went “ayt bet”

I haven’t consider throwing Nik into the party because I still donno how to feel about NikRaven yet :3 also because so far I’ve only ever done ot3 and never explored beyond 3 peeps. I did consider PriceGhostRavenJelly? (Jelly is another OC of mine shipped primarily with Ghost and Rudy) it might be fun to dabble on it sometime

I had, and will not consider ghoapraven xD but perhaps will consider ghoapjelly, but nothing’s for certain, entirely based on my mood LOL

But basically, the main ships that I do here are PriceRaven, GhostRaven and GhostJelly, and three of these ships have their own separate stories and they exist on different timelines. However, I like to mix them sometimes just for the fun of it (eg: PriceRaven that becomes GhostRaven and eventually PriceGhostRaven or PriceRaven double date GhostJelly)

Then I do other poly ships sometimes for fun, without any backstory or anything, just doodles

[buzzingduck]

Aside from getting assets in ME3 I think it's wild the only thing you get after completing the Omega DLC is a chess board lmao.

[yeonban]

Gen.shin spoilers /

I finished the new Mond.stadt archon quest just now & above all else... I just feel so so so sad for Subj.ect Two's fate

[msookyspooky]

Pranking your Slasher S/O and they're Reactions

Characters Included:

Stu Macher, Severen, Bo Sinclair, Foxy Coltrane, Baby Firefly

🤭

Stu Macher: Serving Food Angry

♡ He is blinking at you shoving the plate down and aggressively asking if he wants a fork or spoon

♡ At first he's confused. He tries to ask, "So rough day or??" but when you say no and aggressively shove him his drink then he's unable to hide his wtf face and is like, "Yo you on the rag or something??" if you're a afab (Or amab even it's Stu in the 90s bffr)

♡ You're trying to stay 'angry' while he's getting defensive. Matching energy and slamming shit back with a glare before he's like 'The hell is your malfunction, man!?"

♡ Matches Energy for Energy till you tell him it's a prank even if it's mid argument

♡ "Oh, a prank. Cute...Bitch." He grumbles at you making him lose his laid back aura he tries to project.

♡ He is a petty boy he may wryly smirk but be like 'Watch yourself' from doing that again

Severen: Pretending not to do your routine cuddle session that night.

♡ Man is INSTANTLY sitting up in bed (wherever you crashed together for daylight) looking offended as hell bc how dare you?!

♡ "Oh, so you hate me now? Is that it? Damn, you just hate me and want to watch me be cold over here, huh?"

♡ Most dramatic brat for such a burly tough guy

♡ You're trying not to giggle at how he probably knows you're pranking him but playing it up for laughs

♡ Turns his back to you and gives a faux 'Nope...Nuh uh no, I don't want to now. 😠' in retaliation to you wanting to cuddle after that. Probably back turned and scooting away.

♡ Really milks out how 'hurt' he is. Plays it up seeing your entertained by his bulling.

♡ "....Well, now that ya mention it...I know a way you could make it up to me... 😏" and he's dragging you over in his arms to cuddle and other things before you can even register what he said

Bo Sinclair: Pretending to Put Diesel in a Gasoline Truck

♡ I pray you're on the phone (You'll be screaming 'I'm joking!' real quick when he's about to shake the shit out of you. 'He let you outta the house and this is the thanks he gets!?' jk)

♡ He will crash out at the amount of work, money and time it will take to drain the entire tank and he'll crash out even more if you're 'driving it home' and ruined the Engine while he's frantically saying "Ya didn't! I'll come tow you please tell me ya didn't jus' fuckin' ruin my 1987 Chevy truck!!!"

(I'm not even a car girl but valid crashout ngl)

♡ You don't even understand half of what he's saying as he's yelling in that thick ass Louisiana accent while your trying not to die of laughter

♡ Does not trust its a prank and thinks you're just saying it so he won't be mad af

♡ You're nervously laughing at him either hunting you down in a spare vehicle or pacing the yard with a cigarette; you done got this man about to pop a blood vessel

♡ He huffs glaring at you almost pouting as you apologize and sheepishly explain it was a prank

♡ He probably so badly wanted to slap you, but instead, he just tilts your chin telling you; "I think someone needs a lil attention and that's why ya did this, ay suga?" and it's gonna be either you over his knee till your ass is red or tied up under the gas station and edged/teased to the point of crying...He won't be as rough as he is with victims but boy are you in for a long (fun?😗) hard night.

Foxy Coltrane: False Pregnancy Test (If you're AFAB)

♡ "...Nah, that ain't mine."

♡ You're gonna be the one mad as hell bc his reaction is instant denial and deflection bc he's an irresponsible redneck bum with probably litters of bastard children all over the Country he don't know about.

♡ He's a middle aged criminal! Might even blame you for not being on the pill or take a morning after or tracking your cycle

♡ Definitely ends up being an argument before he falters and groans running a hair through his hands saying "Goddamn it..."

♡ To your surprise, if he really loves you to the best of his ability, he's in it for the longhaul for once

♡ Once he realizes it's a prank "Thank Sweet fuckin' Merciful God!-" In exasperation...

♡ But then later that night he does hypothetical say "I don't want kids but...What if...Shit, I don't know, it did happen?-" bc you got him thinking how much that would light his fire to see you knocked up with his kid and how hot that would be for him to claim you like that

(If AMAB or Infertile/Would never have kids):

Saying the Name of an Old Fling he Didn't think you knew

♡ Whiplashes around blinking at you

♡ Not nearly as explosive as the rest of his family but just as ruthless

♡ Gonna get your feelings hurt when he doubles down like "The redhead with the big ol tittes? Oh yeah, we fucked hard and nasty for days on end. Why?"

♡ Definitely has commitment issues where you gotta be his but he's leery of being yours so he thinks this is some lil test you're pulling

♡ Probably an argument but he finds it a lil cute and gets horny seeing you jealous. Wraps his arms around you, "Hey babycakes-" Smacks your ass and whispers husky grinding on you, "Why don't we have our own fun and make it make that time with that redhead look like a snoozefest?"

Baby Firefly: Jump Scare

♡ Either you're getting punched in the face or she's unphased and blinking at you

♡ Otis almost getting shot in the motel and her smacking him for scaring them? Accurate.

♡ You hid and jumped out at her and didn't know whether to laugh or cry at how hard she hit you

♡ "Ya fuckin idiot! Don't ever fuckin sneak up on me, fuckin' dipshit!" Yeah, she's got that prison instinct that probably is a dumb idea to test

♡ She's helping you up though and kissing where she hit. "Heh, guess ya learned real quick, didn't ya? Be lucky I'm unarmed right now, ya lil shit."

♡ Oh but she gets you back twice as good jump scaring you constantly and may even 'act startled' at you ever accidentally jump scaring her again as the closest thing to an apology you'll ever get