#Otis B Driftwood

[tiffray]

smoking the shit that made the devil reject me

[sweeetestcurse]

Bill Moseley as Otis B. Driftwood in The Devil’s Rejects 05/??

[bloodybobbysawyer]

I am hilarious.

[headfullofdrought]

The boogeyman is real and you found him.

[drunkbeefstudio]

[ethanhoewke]

if i die i die

credit: hewittswhore

[alexloveshorrormovies]

Horror movies behind the scenes also your daily dose of bill Moseley

[jokeringcutio]

Otis B Driftwood x Reader - Drabble "Otis Finds out you are pregnant"

Rating: Mature. Warnings: Language, kidnapped!Reader, Slasher family, allusions to mature themes.

This Drabble can be seen as following the Halloween Breeding Ritual fic, and is followed by the Reader Going into labor fic that will be uploaded soon.

Otis Breeding Ritual – Otis finds out you’re pregnant:

The heavy click of the door latch was a familiar, dreaded sound. You flinched, your heart hammering against your ribcage as you curled tighter into yourself on the bed, the leather leash coiled beside you like a sleeping serpent. You faced the wall, arms protectively wrapped around your midsection, betraying a new vulnerability unlike the defiance you once wielded so bravely.

"Hey, Bunny," Otis' voice slithered through the dim room, laced with that dark amusement that always sent shivers down your spine. His boots made soft thuds against the wooden floorboards as he approached, the weight of his presence looming large.

"Whatcha hidin' from me today, huh?" His words were teasing, feigning nonchalance, but you heard the edge of curiosity beneath them. The shadow of his figure fell over you, blocking out the scant light filtering in through the dirt-streaked window.

"Look at me," he commanded, his tone no longer playful. You didn't move, couldn't move, even as the mattress dipped under his weight. His fingers—rough, demanding—grasped your chin and turned your head to face him. You met his eyes, those almost colorless orbs piercing into you, searching for something you didn't want to give away.

"Otis..." It was all you could muster, a whisper tinged with fear and an involuntary plea for whatever came next.

"Shh, now." He smirked, his eyes dropping to where your arm shielded your stomach. His grasp shifted, trailing down to gently caress your skin over the fabric of your worn shirt. "What's this?"

You trembled under his touch, your breath hitching as his fingers brushed against you with an unexpected tenderness. It was a sensation so foreign in this hellish captivity that it only served to heighten your anxiety.

"Are you...?" His voice trailed off, the realization dawning in his gaze before his features softened into a perverse imitation of affection. "My little Bunny's been a good girl."

His laughter, low and husky, filled the room as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Pregnant," he cooed, drawing out the word like a caress more sinister than any blow he could deliver. "Well, ain't that somethin'?"

You recoiled inwardly, disgust and terror mingling in the pit of your stomach. This wasn't just about being his captive anymore; it was about the life growing inside you, a twisted new bond between captor and captive. Otis' eyes gleamed with a sick delight, and you knew that this changed everything—and nothing at all.

Otis strode across the room, the floorboards creaking under his weight. The door groaned on its hinges as he flung it open with a flourish, bellowing down the hall to Baby and Mother Firefly. "Hey! Guess what? Bunny's knocked up!"

"Really?!" The shrill echo of Baby's voice carried back, tinged with a twisted excitement. A more subdued murmur followed, Mother Firefly’s words indistinct but undoubtedly laden with her own perverse brand of maternal pride.

Your heart pounded in your chest, an erratic drumbeat as you strained to hear above the blood rushing in your ears. Otis' laughter—a dark, triumphant sound—reverberated through the room before the door clicked shut, sealing away the outside world once again.

You scrabbled backwards on the bed, the tether at your ankle pulling taut. "You don't need to... now that I'm…" Your voice broke, confusion lacing each word. Surely, now there was no further use for you in this macabre ritual?

"Need to?" Otis's eyes were alight as he advanced, a predator closing in on prey cornered and quivering. "Oh, Bunny, the fun's just beginning." His words were a growl, sending shivers tracing icy trails down your spine.

“The Halloween ritual is only the first of many parts.” His red eyes seemed to gleam as they met yours.

"More parts?" The question spilled from you, a whisper wrapped in dread.

"More parts," he confirmed, the dark promise in his voice leaving no room for misunderstanding.

With a swift motion, Otis was upon you, his hands snatching your wrists, pinning them down with a strength that left no hope of resistance. The bed dipped under his weight as he hovered over you, his body an inescapable shroud.

"Feeling you full of my baby," he murmured, his breath hot against your cheek, "it's got me all kinds of fired up."

Your mind raced, thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm. The reality of your situation bore down on you—heavier than Otis' body pressing you into the mattress. His lust, stoked by the life burgeoning within you, was an added layer of violation, one that sickened even as it immobilized you.

"Please," you begged, the word barely audible, "don't."

"Shh," Otis hushed you, his gaze searing into yours, "This is art. You're my canvas, Bunny. And we've only just started painting our masterpiece."

~

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[chasemisprintedlies]

[j4mj4m]

Bill Moseley and his cat 🐱🐱

[oso-nan]

they all run, like scared little rabbits!

[kyuoki]

Little piggy, little piggy What do you see? You're lookin' at death When you're lookin' at me Little piggy, little piggy What should you do? I am the devil and I'm comin' for you

[sweeetestcurse]

Bill Moseley as Otis B. Driftwood in The Devil’s Rejects 04/??

[slashingdisneypasta]

Imagine hiding behind your usual attacker because another one, a worse threat, is after you and your villain won't let that happen. Because you are theirs.

Hiding behind Freddy's back hoping he has something clever up his sleeve, because he always has something clever up his sleeve, it's usually awful but right now you're counting on it.

You have a knife in your hand and part of you is ready to jam it between his shoulder blades as soon as the other one (Freddy, as well, but not Freddy- darker, uglier, something inconceivable about him... ) is not an issue anymore but another part of you is holding onto it to protect him with.

When he glances back at you with a devious smirk and an evil glint in his eye that you're all too familiar with and asks you if you trust him- you even say you do. You're even genuine.

Otis tells you to go to the other room and you do as you're told for once. If he had told you to lay down and play dead on your stomach, you would have done it. This is not a time to argue with him- you know he doesn't want anyone else killing you but him, and right now Foxy is in a terrifying mood where he will, just to spite his brother. You were already slashed with a knife Foxy threw at you, the wound deep through your arm and soaking your shirt with blood so it sticks to your skin. When Otis comes into the room later, he has alcohol, a needle and string.

Against your much better judgement, because you're shaken and Otis is familiar, and right now he has no malice in his eyes, you let him take that needle to your skin and stitch you up. You even take a drink with him afterwards, like old friends.

You know very well that the man in the Ghostface costume is the same one that's been harassing you, chasing you, attacking you for the past week- and the fact that he's slipped out of a dark corner in your home just now when you thought you were alone, should be terrifying.

But when they quickly and efficiently slice the neck of a burglar who was about to grab you, you take the moment to breath out a sigh of relief, regroup, swallow down the terror you just felt (So much more than you ever feel recieving a call from Ghostface)... instead of run. He doesn't move to hurt you at all. Just stands there, watching you.

Something about it is comforting.

When a 'visitor' to Ambrose takes a liking to you and tries to take something that you were not offering, you find yourself wishing Bo was there. You actually call for him, cry out for him in a very desperate moment when you need someone- and somehow he's there just in time. How? He was probably stalking you, watching you... but you don't care. You're thankful he was. He wrenches the man off of you and you feel a swell of warmth (Gratefulness? Relief? ... Pleasure?) watching him slam the guy against a wall.

When he growls out that you're his, something you certainly are not and shouldn't even consider going along with, something that isn't even necessary because he's going to kill the guy anyway, something unhealthy and terrible and gross- you don't know why but your mind goes absolutely blank and you breath out... yes.

[ivy475]

Sexy fucker

[drunkbeefstudio]