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#daddy corpse
daddy-issues-99 · 6 months
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Otis Driftwood x reader SMUT
Afab reader, degration, p in v, hair pulling, mentions of stockholm syndrome, biting, slight bdsm
500 words
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Your whole body was sore with a thin layer of sweat covering your skin. Your face was buried into the sheets of the bed, tears from a mix of pain and pleasure falling onto the soft fabric.
You gripped the sheets as your capture pounded into you at a brutal pace. "Otis-" you said quietly before a receiving a sharp slap to your ass. "I said be quiet." He said sternly, continuing to roughly thrust into you.
"Or are you to stupid to remember what I said? Hm?" He asked with a cruel smile. You just moaned and gripped the sheets. "Well? You stupid or somethin'?" He asked in an annoyed voice when you didn't answer.
He roughly slapped your ass and quickly gripped your hair, pulling your head up roughly. "I asked you a damn question! Are. You. Stupid?" He asked sternly, tightly gripping your hair.
"Y-yes"
You said quietly, barely being able to think as he roughly thrusted into at a brutal pace.
"That's what I thought" he said with a smirk and let go of your hair, letting your head fall back into the sheets.
He began thrusting faster, roughly gripping your hips hard enough to hurt. He pushed your face farther into the bed, bringing his head down to yours, his hair draping over your face. "You like this don't ya? Being fucked senseless, being nothing more than a fucktoy? Hm?" He said with a cruel smirk.
"But it's not like you had a choice anyway." He said, letting out a laugh. You hated how much you loved this. The man you wished so desperately to escape from soon became the thing you craved.
He moved his head to your neck placing sloppy kisses and love bites along your skin. He left numerous hickeys and marks along your skin before finally biting down at the base of your neck. You yelped at the sudden pain, confused before quickly realizing what happened.
He pulled away with a smirk, looking down at the bite. "You're mine now, mama." He said with a smirk.
His thrusts soon became sloppy as he approached his orgasm. You weren't far behind. He moved one of his hands to your clit, you moaned into the pillow, trying to stay as quiet as possible.
After a few thrusts he came undone, roughly thrusting into you, shooting his seed deep into you, muttering curses under his breath.
You were quick to follow as he continued his assault on tour clit, letting you ride out your orgasm.
After a few final thrusts he pulled out of you and fell into the bed, pulling you on top of him. He moved your hair to reveal the bite mark on your neck. "You're mine. No one else's. Am I clear?" He asked sternly.
"Yes" you said quietly.
"That's my good girl" he said with a smirk
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breha · 1 year
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claudia’s birth allows louis to believe that he and lestat have become The Parents (equal status) and so the teacher-student power dynamic has gone away, but really it’s just been repressed and it comes up again like wack-a-mole
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Can you spank me harder?
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scarrinotspooky · 3 months
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are any of your friends also… Y’know….. supernatural in nature 💅
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i couldn't tell if you meant if we were gay or...all actually supernatural? so, heres me and my friends, i guess. of course, codenames, but to my own knowledge theyre all human
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bloodpen-to-paper · 1 year
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He's way too comfortable talking like this to a guy to not be at least a little fruity
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whatudottu · 11 months
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Yo imagine instead of being small because Airachnid is vaguely a lady by human standards, what if she was built like a daddy longlegs spider and dwarfed bots after unfolding her copter blades?
They hate to see a girlboss winning 😞😔
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I want another split party episode of dndads but this time Link and Scary are like trapped in a puzzle dungeon with Hermie and are genuinely considering if they should just kill him while they have the chance meanwhile Norm and Taylor are stuck having dinner with Cassandra and Willy
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pegand0ll · 8 months
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Anyway I think Richie and Taylor need to meet and I would give anything to make it happen
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y-rhywbeth2 · 3 months
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I just want to play a Durge who worships, and is Chosen of, the entire Dead Three (plus Loviatar and Talona, why not). They would be tearing each other apart.
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jokeringcutio · 1 year
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Third time's a charm Otis B. Driftwood x Reader (How Reader was Rescued)
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Fandom: House of 1000 Corpses & The Devil’s Rejects & 3 From Hell. Pairings: Otis B. Driftwood X Reader. Rating: Mature (for topics and themes) Warnings: Violence, Blood, (Decent) mentioning of corpses and corpse abuse, Pregnancy, Semi-Graphic Birth, Breeding Kink, Murder, dubcon and noncon. Summary: How you got rescued from the Firefly Family.
This can be seen as a continuation on [ This Drabble where they take you to the hospital ] and was specially written for iffyline
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The third time's a charm
At first, you had hope. It wasn’t a tiny bit, it was huge. Enough to fill your heart and mind. You’d gone from being hopelessly lost to being determined to remain alive. It felt as if your life was balancing each second of the day on a scale that could tip over unannounced. But now you held hope, and that meant that you would do anything to remain alive until the police would come to rescue you. No matter how degrading it would be.
You’d seen your friends die in horrible ways, and had to watch some of them still on display – either as pieces of art or body parts of them that had been re-used for furniture. Yeah, better not think about that. Though you’d never received your answer as to why you were the only one still alive, you could hazard a guess. The Firefly member named Otis was to thank for that. He’d claimed you from the get-go, held you tied up in his room, and fucked you raw until you could no longer walk.
It was thanks to falling ill that Baby and Otis had driven you to the hospital where you could alarm the doctor about your predicament. You were missing. You and your friends. And you had told the doctor all about the dangerous family that held you captive. You’d warned her not to take action too soon, because you knew if the attempt failed, the family would know that it had been you who had been blabbering to the doctor. You feared not only for your own life, but also for theirs.
Thankfully, your capturers were none the wiser. Your cover: the unfortunate fetus inside your womb. Otis had been withdrawn on the way back, uncharacteristically quiet and absentminded. Baby had been over the moon. As for the others of the family, well, Baby had been right. Mama Firefly got a certain gleam in her eyes when the sonograms were shown, she was thrilled. Tiny and Rufus seemed to be okay with it all. They hadn’t said much about it to you, just seemed to accept it as a fact. Captain Spaulding had slapped your shoulder and welcomed you to the family. Then Otis had left the room and had thrown the door shut behind him. You had been left with the Firefly members all on your own for the very first time. Unchained. Nothing had happened. Baby had gotten you something to drink. That was all.
Otis had returned for you not much later and you’d fallen back into the same old pattern that had emerged ever since you had arrived. With you locked up in his chamber and him taking his pleasure from you whenever he liked. But there had been glances you hadn’t seen from him before. Something in his eyes had changed and sometimes you could see him clench his jaw or flex his hand before forming a fist.
You thought he hated the idea of becoming a father.
And so you prayed your rescuers would arrive soon.
They did, sooner than you would find out. The first rescue mission they undertook failed horribly. You were stuck in Otis’s room when it happened, tummy round with child for God knows how many weeks. Too long. You’d not noticed anything had happened until Otis told you, many weeks later. And only because you’d recognized a police badge among one of his new art exhibits.
Gross.
You’d expected a second wave soon after, but no one came.
~
In the end, you ended up giving birth on Otis’s bed, making it one bloody mess that had his eyes light up in delight.
“See, a birth can be fun,” Mama Firefly had said. She stood next to you to help pull the babe from your womb.
“It’s very artistic,” Otis said, his eyes alit with emotions that resembled pride and… was that love? No, it couldn’t be. Lust. That must have been it. But he looked at you at that moment like he looked at his best artworks. And you felt like you were, torn below, legs parted, your blood seeping all over the blankets.
The baby cried and Otis took the child in his arms. Blood covered his strong biceps and stained his white undershirt, but he was unbothered. Perhaps this sight frightened you even more than if he had turned away and neglected your child. It was him, pure as could be, talking to the little fellow in his hands as if he was the most important thing in the world.
Like a father.
Otis loved his child. And dang if that didn’t hurt. You saw it in the way he looked up at the kid, saw it in how he tried his best to care for the child even if he sometimes horribly failed at it. Thing was, you never stood on your own in this. Mama Firefly got your back, and so did Grandpa Hugo. You could always rely on Baby to help you out with anything that needed to be done. And slowly, ever so slowly, you were given back some of your freedom, as if they accepted you as part of their twisted little family.
You could roam the house, do basic things all by yourself. Otis seemed to trust you more now that the two of you shared a baby. But you were scared. A future in this house, for your child? It couldn’t be anything good. You kept praying for someone to come and take you and your child away.
~
The second time the police came to investigate, you were in the living room, your baby son on your lap.
“What took them so long?” you murmured, watching the blue lights as they swirled outside the window.
“Shit,” Baby cursed, her voice unladylike and raw. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“Get all your things and go,” Captain Spaulding shouted. He looked pointedly at you, but it was Otis who got into motion, grabbing your hand. Of course, you’d almost forgotten, that whenever the police or anyone of importance showed up, you had to hide. You were still reported missing after all, and your family and friends hadn’t given up the search for you. They’d appeared on numerous television shows and sometimes still made the news when they thought they’d found a new lead.
But the doctor knew where you were. There was a lead! Why hadn’t they come sooner? Why had the second attempt taken them this long? The doctor knew you were here. She promised to alarm the police. They knew! Why had they left you to your fate long enough to give birth in this hellhole?
“’ere, give ‘im to me,” Hugo cradled the baby in his arms, disappearing into a different room.
“No!” you shouted, but Otis already pushed you into his room and shut the windows, barring them.
“You stay here,” he said, eyes flashing with something dangerous that told you he was not to be argued with. You watched as he got a gun out and collected some cleavers he used to make his art. Then he left, locking the door behind him.
You cried in your hands while you listened to the sounds of a confrontation below. If he hadn’t barred the windows, you might have been able to signal to the men outside. But no such luck.
You were let out of the room for dinner and were handed your son. He was safe, except for a few blood spatters on his little romper that luckily didn’t belong to him. Grandpa Hugo had protected him with his life, he said. And while you had been shielded from the horrors below, your infant son had been present to watch the murder in real time.
Baby and Tiny were arguing about the reason the police had come to visit. You didn’t feel like you had such a great appetite when you saw one of the policemen on the table. Instead, you held your son while you breastfed him, aware of Otis’s watchful eyes as he ate his dinner, eyeing you approvingly.
~
The baby bump showed, visibly, and it disgusted you how Otis would rub his hand over it, would talk to the unborn child as if the baby already could understand. Talked about all the projects he had in mind for them to work on and the things he wanted to teach the kid.
It had been different one time. But after your son was born, Otis changed. A little. He’d gone from quiet and pensive to overly enthusiastic and ready to involve his kids in whatever he had in mind. Nothing that risked their lives though, which was a relief. You watched him take your toddler son by the hand and guide him around the premises. Or haul him on his lap to help him carve one of his new exposition displays.
Yes, he actively engaged your son in creating new centerpieces. He held his tiny little hand to steer the carving knife. He made your child actively cut human flesh into artful shapes.
And you hated him for it. Hated him even more now that a second child was growing inside. You knew you could not steer away from his touches, knew you could not avoid whatever nature had in store for you. You just survived each and every day and deliberately had forgotten that there were people out there looking for you. The hope you once held had diminished and dwindled into a small pilot flame. Still there, ready to be lit again, but not bright, barely visible.
They would not come. They had tried and they had lost. What was there to hope for?
You’d imagined escapes, even tried a few, but it had all ended back in Otis’s bed, chained to the headboard, with him eagerly thrusting inside of you while he berated you for your attempts. In fact, that was probably how the new baby had been created. But it had been so tempting to try and drive off with one of the cars. And you’d gotten closer than you ever had before.
Well, it was all in the past now. You’d have to wait for another opportunity to arrive.
~
“They’re sweet, aren’t they?” Mama Firefly said from her rocking chair on the porch.
Your son chased after your daughter. She was still a toddler, stumbling around on chubby legs. He was lean and slender, a mirror image of his dad.
A simple nod was all you gave as a reply. Your eyes focused on your children while you hoped it would remain at two.
Behind you, the wood of the doorway creaked, and when you looked up, you saw Otis leaning against the doorpost, arms crossed in front of his chest. His cold eyes rested upon your kids.
Then a tiny smile curled his lips.
You quickly looked away again.
~
When the police came for you again, things were completely different from before. They didn’t race towards the house with sirens on. Instead, an ordinary-looking car made its way to a safe distance, and the first policeman didn’t run into any of the Fireflies. He ran into you.
You were outside, watching your kids as they were playing when a stranger came into your periphery. You didn’t hesitate, didn’t give it a second thought, and called out for him.
The stranger said your name, didn’t even seem surprised, and you responded affirmatively. It was you. And you needed to get out.
He gestured for you to head his way. You didn’t hesitate, picked up your toddler, and grabbed your son by the hand. You led your kids into the safety of the stranger’s car. The man joined in the passenger’s seat and turned to the woman behind the steering wheel.
“Go, go, go,” he said, and she drove off.
Nothing heroic. No great showdown or bullet shot.
Yet, you were out.
~
Whenever someone with bleached hair passed you by, you did a double take. Just to make sure it wasn’t him. Odd, really, because it could not be Otis.
He was dead.
So the police had said.
When they’d taken you and your kids to safety, a second squad had surrounded the house and that bullet fight you thought hadn’t occurred took place without you knowing. The Firefly family had fought back resiliently, but the police had learned from the last time. In the end, the Fireflies tried to escape by setting the house on fire.
Otis had been mauled down by one of the policemen. They told you he’d been on the floor once the flames engulfed him.
You were free, even if some of the family had managed to get away.
Your kids grew up leading normal lives. Though your son showed traces of morbid interest, remembering how it felt to carve up flesh with his dad.
He blamed you as well. He missed his father. You never apologized for taking him and his sister away from that toxic environment and was determined to wait until your son was old enough to understand what had happened. He was clever, you were certain he would understand.
And so the three of you led a brand new life, surrounded by friends and family. Hope started to rebuild again inside of your chest, and fear left your heart droplet by little droplet as time went by.
You would live the life you had craved for. You weren’t a quitter.
~ * ~
“You should just walk up to them,” Baby said, eyeing the man next to her with annoyance. “Stop lurking. What is the worst that could happen?”
“You’re right,” the man said. He marched out of his hiding place, white hair flowing behind him, beard jutted forward with pride.
“Hello there, kid.”
Baby snickered while she watched him bend forward to talk to the teenage kid. A young and slender boy with hair just as pale. From behind the boy, a girl emerged. She’d been playing a distance away but came closer when she saw the stranger approach. She looked a lot like her mother, Baby thought. But had her father’s eyes.
“Dad?” the boy said. “You came back for us?” Not scared or with a stammer, but with relief visibly painting his features.
“Just wanted to say hi,” Otis said, leaning forward to ruffle the girl’s hair before doing the same to the boy. “Not gonna steal you away from your mother. Missed you too much.”
The children beamed up at him, prompting Baby to step out from the shadows to watch the family reunion openly.
Otis’s eyes glinted when he spoke to his son. “Think your mom will want me back?”
~ FIN  ~
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galaghiel · 9 months
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"Father. It's me, Michael."
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cherrycasino · 1 year
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Yes master🖤
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Ok wait I just noticed the placement of one of Rei's bullet wound scars uh my brother in christ he got shot in the lung o-O or at least the bullet just got lodged in a rib but fucking still
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nat-without-a-g · 28 days
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When I talk about Paeden to my friends who I know will Not watch the podcast, or at least not season one, I mention that he died and hasn’t come back yet. And then I remember I already emphasized that he was eight and have to scramble to explain why this child’s death isn’t actually super morbid.
Not once have I told people HOW he’s died because ngl I love him and Walter but if I tried telling people it wasn’t kind of fucked up I’d let them call me a liar.
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airasora · 1 month
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These five games in my library next to each other made me ugly laugh xD
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