I Write Things

When he isn’t being a deranged-slashing killer with a vendetta against Sidney Prescott, Ghostface genuinely gives golden retriever vibes when he is home alone with you.

A little physically clingy but will back off when he knows you need it, or if he’s being too much, but there is no denying that man craves touch. Your touch.

His favorite (appropriate) touch being when you two are on the couch watching a movie and he has his head in your lap with your fingers playing with his hair. He is right where he wants to be.

He definitely likes to game, either with you or if you aren’t much of a gamer he loves when your presence is around and nearby. His favorite games are ,of course, story-based horror games. His favorite franchise being the Resident Evil games. He is a big Leon Kennedy fan. He will make silly comments throughout his time playing. 

E.g. “He just gets sexier each game I swear.”

“Who do I ship Leon with, Ada or Claire?... Me…” 

“Uh Uh! Ada, don't kiss my man! Babe, she's kissing my man!”

It always manages to get a laugh out of you. Especially when he repeats silly one liners he hears from Leon. He sometimes incorporates his favorite lines into his phone calls. Resident Evil isn’t the only game he likes to play. He enjoys playing DBD and playing as himself sometimes, and decision-based games like TellTales “The Wolf Among Us” or “The Walking Dead”. Surprisingly enough, he loves Sims 4. He secretly plays it on his PC, where he has created you and him in the game. He can spend hours on it. And yes, yes, he does have Wicked Whims modded on.

He also highly values quality time with you. He will drop whatever he has planned to spend time with you. He loves planning surprise dates, big or small, as long as it's with you, he is certain he is the luckiest man to walk the Earth. He keeps you on your toes, never knowing what to wear in case he has sudden plans up his sleeve.

Rusty loves rough, dirty sex. He likes it primal and messy: biting, spanking, smacking his thick-heavy cock against your tongue, smearing his cum, you name it. He loves pounding away deep inside you, giving you as much as you can take and then some. He loves to watch you stretch out around him and take him. He'll smack his cock against your body, slipping it against your entrance before pushing deep inside you. And he's loud. Rusty isn't afraid of noise. He wants you to know just how much you drive him mad and how good you feel.

Speaking of loud, he loves the sound of you. Moans, cries, whimpers of pleasure. He eats it all up, like a starved man. But what he really loves is the sound of the headboard banging away at the wall as he thrust into you, making a sweet rhythm against the wall. That mixed with the sinful sounds of you makes that man's thick hairy chest just swell with pride.

Rusty is also a choker, not enough to hurt but enough to add a sensational preasure while he fucks away. He likes the control it has. How it makes your heart race, he likes grabbing you by the neck and holding you down or pulling you against him. He'll lean down in your ear and tell you, "That's it baby, you look so pretty wearing my necklace," before giving your throat a soft squeeze.

Rusty cums a lot too, in quantity. He has large-thick loads. Being on the road a lot, he will go some time without seeing you. Not only does this sadden him but leaves him extremely pent up over the course of a few weeks. Because not only has he not seen you in so long, but he also hasn't been able to fuck you. So, by the time he gets home, he had lots of frustrations and build up to get out, and you are all he's got on his mind.

When you arrived into town, you passed all the small town stores, decorated with cute Valentine's decorations. It wasn't until you passed a particular store you noticed a familiar face. Your partner was wrapped around someone else, something you had only dreamed of. You had wanted to be the one embraced in their arms. To be kissed the way they kissed the stranger in front of you. And so what you thought was going to be the beginning, was in fact the very end. It was degrading, you had put so much effort into making this work and no effort was put back. You didn't even bother to stop. Yes, you were fired up, livid, but what could you do? You were in a state you didn't know well and were exhausted. You weren't thinking straight, so you kept driving. You circled around and headed back to the old peeling, "Come back soon" sign. Yeah right, as if!

You felt that you should have seen it sooner. How they were being more secretive around you. During you texts and calls they mentioned a work buddy but never stated who or how close they were. Never once explained why their messages became more and more distanced in time. Calls became shorter and less common, and it hurt. But you didn't want to jump to conclusions, maybe they just become busy. But you couldn't deny the feeling that it seemed like you were the only one trying in the relationship. Now? Now you regretted not trusting your gut instinct. They were just like the others, and you deserved better.

"Maybe I'm just not cut out for this whole love thing." You sobbed to yourself in your empty car as you merged onto the interstate. Using one arm to swipe away at the tears, you finally decided to turn on the radio. You just flipped through the channels until you found something tolerable. It had been forever since the last time you've cried like this. It almost felt relieving, almost. Your chest still felt tight, your eyes still puffy, and your head pounded from it all. It really had just been a sucky day, and the rain hadn't made it any better. It only continued to get worse the more you drove. With each passing mile marker, the rain seemed to just pour down heavier.

It had gotten to the point that it was hard to see anything in front of you at all, and the windshield wipers provided no help. And to be brutally honest, you weren't in any shape to be driving at the moment, not on the busy interstate. A crying mess, mind foggy, and horrible weather. Just not a good combination. Plus, you did swerve a few times in other lanes and one time almost plowed right into a semi. So that was where the line was drawn for the night. The last thing you wanted was to end up in a hospital and have to spend any more time in this state any longer than need be. Let alone in the soil as worm food. Not permanently near your now ex.

You pulled over onto the next exit that showed near by motels off the side of the road. Pulling off, the sound of wet gravel hitting against the tires could be heard, while you pulled into the closest motel available. You just wanted a simple room so you could rest up and get the hell out of dodge in the morning. Thankfully the closest motel sat down in a little valley with a small diner right across from it. A score in your book. In the morning you could grab something quick and get on the road.

When arriving, the little dilapidated motel certainly stuck out in its own way. The worn down-peeling paint, faded door numbers, curtains that somehow are still hanging together, and flickering lights outside. Weeds and overgrowth peeking through a few floorboards. Meanwhile to the side of the motel, just across the street, the small diner was buzzing with people even at such a late hour. Mostly truckers coming in for their fill of gas, and a hot meal. But with the night you were having, you just wanted to face plant in a bed and ignore the night away, and a hot shower to top it all off.

After paying and receiving the room key, you hurried into the room to hide yourself from the pouring rain that had already soaked you and your clothes, because of course you didn't think to pack an umbrella of all things. You locked your room and closed the curtains, checking for any creepy cameras in the room before plopping yourself down on the edge of the bed. You honestly were just tuckered out, and just glad to have gotten a room with a comfortable enough bed. Even if the walls were thin and you could hear the room next door watching the Maury Show. Apparently the results were in because the sound of muffled commotion and laughter from the audience on the next rooms tv got a laugh from whoever the stranger was next door. Which in turn, did make you shake your head with a half-smile before getting up off the bed and heading for the bathroom.

After the day you've had, the thought of a hot-sudsy shower was all you could ever want. And that is exactly what you did. You let your clothes fall to the ground, making a pile on the floor as you stepped into the hotel room shower; pulling the plastic cover shut as you fiddled with the handle trying to figure the shower out before the room filled with hot water and steam. The plastic curtain fogged, alongside the mirror as the scorching hot water hit against your skin. The feeling of stress and the filth of the rain washed off of you, your sadness seeming to go down the drain. Seemingly. Just a little. You still stood there sniffling to yourself as certain memories popped back into your head, the good and the bad, as hard as you tried for them not to, they still found a way to pry their self into you.

You sighed and rinsed out the shampoo from your hair, letting the suds run down your body and out of your hair. It had finally become quiet, not just the room beside you, but inside your head as well. Maybe it was just because you were too tired to even think. You stood in the shower for a longer time than you expected, having let the water run cold now which indicated it was time to get out. As you finished up and pushed the water out from your hair, the sound of muffled thuds cut the silence.

You picked your head up due to the sounds, turning off the water. Only to hear it again, this time it seemed to be rhythmic only to stop once more. You rolled your eyes, assuming it was just someone having a fun time the night before Valentines Day. Great just what you needed, a complete stranger reminding you of how lonely you now were going to be now.

You got out the shower, wrapping a towel around yourself, and on the top of your head while going through a nightly routine of skin care and brushing your teeth. Hurrying to your bed, you hoped to just turn on the tv and fall asleep. As you laid there, with the tv on and turned up, you pressed harder on the pillow to your ears because that same banging sound became rather aggressive sounds coming from the other side of the wall. It almost sounded like a fight, I mean hey, who's anyone to kink shame.

It had stopped finally and went silent afterward. You picked the pillow off from your head, looking up at the wall behind you. It was questionable to say the least, but none the less nothing you wanted to know anything else about. You were just finally glad it was over so you could lay down and finally get some sleep.

The next morning, you tried not to fret about the silly commercial holiday, trying to keep it off your mind. All you kept on your mind for now was getting your morning routine done, and heading over to that little diner across the highway to get a good hot breakfast before you rushed back onto the road to get home. When you entered the diner, it was full of truckers and older couples seeming to be on the road for a trip. One sweet couple, looking around their 50's, where looking at a map together over their order of grits and sausage. The wife huffing that she told her husband they missed the wrong exit. You understood her frustration, you didn't want to be here any longer either. Except, they most likely had a beautiful destination planned, meanwhile you were heading home with heartbreak.

After sitting down at the counter, cutting into heart shaped pancakes, wondering if life was just having a good laugh at you today. You must have missed the punch line, but at least they looked delicious. You took the syrup bottle from the counter and practically drowned the pancakes with them, plopping the soft-fluffy breakfast delight into your mouth. The warmth filled your belly and subsiding the hungry burn that had grew in your stomach overnight. You spent the next few minutes zoned out, enjoying your pancakes, and listening to the muffled speakers play the local radio station music through the diner's half-way working speakers.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts and food that you didn't even notice the sound of the diner's little bell and the sound of large boots thudding against the tile floor towards your direction. It wasn't until a fairly large-thick muscular man sunk himself down beside you at the diner's counter in a stool. Dad bod kinda strong if you had to assume but you weren't sure considering he wore thick clothing. You had tried to sit furthest from everyone, but the only seat left in the place just happened to be right next to you.

He wore a brown Carhart jacket, thick to shield him from the chilly weather and sightly faded jeans. An old worn truckers' hat covered short brown-messy hair, there were a few short cowlicks that creeped under the sides of the hat. Its brim hiding most of his face, mostly his eyes. However, you could see the structure of his jaw and the stubble he had. He smelled of mahogany teakwood and something similar to lavender but dusted with the faint smell of the smoke of a cigarette.

The cushioned stool creaked beneath his weight as he took his seat and plucked a menu from the holding rack. His hands were big and his fingers were calloused. The skin thick from what you assume was years of hard work. However, his hands were clean. He was attractive, that much was clear.

"Just the usual, Darla." He said in this gruff, rumbling voice with a southern accent. Fuck, he sounds as sexy as he looks. Darla, the waitress at the counter, nodded with a polite smile. The crowfeet at the corner of her eyes crinkled, a beautiful sign of age and a life of smiling. She jotted down whatever his usual was down on a little, yellow pad of paper and before she walked off, he had glanced at you with a slight turn of his head and then back towards Darla. Shit. Had he caught you staring. You bet you were probably drooling like Pavlov's dog.

Embarrassed you shifted in your seat and turned away slightly trying to obtain whatever self-dignity in this situation you had left. "And add one of those sticky buns, thank ya, Darla." You didn't know what a sticky bun was, but it sounds messy. You, however, busied yourself with your own food. You had to get back on the road soon and didn't want to waste any more time.

You went back to your pancake and eggs, now cold from all your gawking at the man beside you. You decided you were full enough and were about to wave down the waitress, who you now knew as Darla, to pay for your meal, until you noticed a small plate sliding over to you. The fingers pushing the plate in your direction weren't the same nimble fingers of Darla, but the thick calloused fingers of the stranger beside you.

On the plate was you assumed was this so called "sticky bun" he had added to his order. It resembled a cinnamon bun, the bread soft and fluffy in a swirl-like shape and covered in some type of glaze, topped with pecans. It looked delicious. Did he decide he didn't want it? Was he giving this to you?

"For a pretty little thang like you." He said, tipping the brim of his hat. "Now what's someone as pretty as you doin' in a joint like this on Valentine's Day alone? Someone as pretty as you ought to be out on the town on a day like today." He inquired while his fork cut and scrapped into his biscuit and sausage gravy. Instinctively, your radar would have been going off about a stranger offering you food in a state you didn't know and calling you pretty. Twice at that. However, you couldn't help but enjoy how he said it and you couldn't really think straight. You weren't exactly planning talk to anyone. It caught you off guard to say the least and next thing you knew was that the words coming out your mouth weren't coordinating with your mind.

"Well, thank you, you're awfully pretty too." The words came out awkwardly and faster than you meant to say them. His shoulders straightened and locked. He went quiet for an awkward amount of time and put his head down a bit with his fork in hand. Was that the right thing to say? Was this the dead end of the conversation? Did you want there to be a conversation? Besides it wasn't like you'd see this guy again, let alone this state. If you did, what did you even want to get out of a conversation like this with him? You hadn't even contacted your partner yet to officially break up, they don't even know you're done with their cheating ass.

Then you noticed something. He had a red color flushing up the back of his neck and the tip of his ears, that poked out from the sides of his hat. Was he actually blushing at being called pretty? It seems that your statement caught him off guard just as much it did you... it was endearing. Yeah okay, you did want there to be a conversation after all.

When he finally seemed to collect himself, he turned back to you and put his fork down. You had seen more of his face now, his cheek were just as red as his neck and ears. His lips parted to speak before closing again. He cleared his throat before a smile painted across his lips. "Well, ain't you just sweet as a peach. I must say that was a first for me to hear."

"I'm sorry, was that weird?" You asked with a tight-lipped smile, trying to make the conversation not as dreadful as you assumed it was. "No, not at all." he chuckled, the sound rumbling from his chest making his shoulders shake up and down, "Threw me off guard, but I liked it. I'm Rusty by the way." He tacked on his name and held his hand out to take yours. When you placed your hand in his, he brushed his thumb briefly across your knuckles and shook your hand. "Y/N" you responded. "Beautiful" he said beneath his breath, but you couldn't exactly tell if that statement was for your ears or just his. It was as if he was appreciating everything about you like a work of art. Appreciating every key detail. In honesty, even if it was just for the moment, it felt nice to be adored and spoken to with such words for just a little while after the shitty treatment you had endured from your ex.

But the thought of your ex reminded you why you were here in the first place, that reminded you that you had to get on the road again. You had hoped it being the morning that traffic wouldn't be so bad. You finally managed to get Darla's attention and received the check. You had gone to retrieve the money you owed, but Rusty had already placed down his own money to cover your breakfast. "Consider it a Valentine's gift." You didn't know what to say other than thank you, but before you could, flashing lights caught the attention of you and all the other fellow diners in the place.

Three police cars and an ambulance had arrived across the street at the motel you had stayed in last night. A young child had sat up on their knees looking out the diner window, nose practically pressed against the class, to take a look. Customers coming in stopped and looked back at the scene, and to be fair you too were looking at the scene from your seat. The police had been at the room that was just beside yours. The same room you heard the thumping sound from last night. You had hoped everything was okay.

When you finally pulled your gaze away from what was happening a short time after, Rusty was gone. The only thing left behind was his plate and no sign of him. No man that large should be able to move that fast and that quietly. You just assumed he paid for both meals and had to get on the road too. Feeling a little disappointed by his sudden disappearance and that you didn't get to at least say goodbye. But you couldn't dwell on that.

You left the diner, deciding to just continue on with your trip back home, you had spent enough time here as is. You walked to your car, the same car you've drove since college, gravel crunched beneath each step. Although, heading to your car you noticed something placed under your windshield wiper. A hat. No, not just any hat, it was Rusty's hat. He left it behind for you. Why? You didn't know. What you also didn't know was how he knew this was your car.

But however he knew, it didn't matter. You wouldn't see him again. You got into your car and placed the hat down in the passenger seat and tugged your seatbelt over your chest. You cranked up and pulled out of the diner, a police officer in the road guiding cars out the diner and others into the motel leading them away from the ongoing crime scene investigation. As you passed, you couldn't help but glance back at the scene through the rearview mirror until the scene became smaller and smaller. It wasn't until you got back to the road to get back on the interstate that you looked head on, leaving it behind.

Merging back onto the interstate, you drove back on your way back home. You had a long trip back. But to your surprise, you weren't thinking about the asshole ex you were leaving behind but rather the handsome man you managed to make blush today at the diner. Your mind was on Rusty, and your eyes glanced over to his hat resting in your passenger seat.

Hello everyone! It’s been a long time since I’ve made any post on here. Let alone read anything, overall I haven’t really touched tumblr for a while.

To make a long story short, I made this account and decided to make and post things around a very hard time for myself. My grandmother had been battling cancer for around 5-6 years and as the years went on the harder it became for her. She passed at 78. I am grateful to have had her in my life for as long as I did. She passed just 2 days before her birthday (Oct 31st, she had a kickass birthday). It took a toll on me and my family. I struggled and hurt for a while and just simply didn't have it in me to do the things I loved. But we are better and doing well, and I have finally gotten back into things I enjoy when I have the time for it.

I don't have a lot of stuff stored up, so for that I am sorry. However, I do hope to finally get back into my groove and feel the urge to create. I have lots of ideas but still struggle to get the motivation to complete ideas and fully write them out. But I am excited to try and get back to this page.

With that I want to end this little update by saying I am sorry for the disappearance, to anyone going through a situation like this just know you aren't alone in these trialing times and are seen and loved and may your battle or families battle have a glorious victory, spend time with your loved ones, and lastly fuck cancer.

Very much love,

When Rusty is working outside, fixing on his car or tuning up the semi-truck, he loves when he looks up from underneath the vehicle to see you coming his way. He loves it even more when you decide to sit down near him while he works. He loves your presence and that you came out of your way to be with him. He even loves your little questions, even if some of them he finds concerning that you don't know, but he loves them anyhow. He happily answers each question about what he's doing. Though his tone can seem annoyed after a while of those questions, you can always catch him smiling to himself before he finally answers.

Something Rusty loves to do is going on little late night joy rides with you to talk, or just even enjoy the peace and quiet and will always without fail keep your hand in his- with the other on the steering wheel. His huge-rough hand swallows yours as he intertwines the two of yalls fingers together. Even bringing your hand up to his lips at times and placing a small kiss on the top of your hand before smiling to himself as he keeps his eyes on the road. His heart throbbing the entire time, he's without a doubt formed a huge soft spot for you.

Now sometimes his eyes do tend to wonder on these little rides, he can't help himself, he finds his self looking at you in adoration when you aren't looking. Wondering how he became so lucky. He finds himself taking in every aspect of you and loving you with every ounce of his being. Though this does cause him to swerve a bit, leading him to get scolded by you which he just denies. "Me, swerve? Pftt nahhhh" But his stiff shoulders and his failed attempts to tip down his hat to hide his guilty smirk says it all.

You know how little kids like to make the tucking arm movement for passing by truckers to honk the horn? Well Rusty loves the shit, he thinks it is the cutest thing, and will always answer to the kids with a loud and long honk as he passes by. But this also applies to you. At first he thought you were down right crazy the day he seen you in the front yard in front of the house waving and tugging at the air. Tempted not to do it he failed and gave in, giving you three loud honks as he entered the yard parking the semi. Your smile and laugh as he watched you hurry to the truck too greet him won him over. Now Rusty honks the horn for you every time he comes home even if you aren't outside. It's sort of like his "Honey i'm home!" Once he let you ride in his lap and honk the horn yourself during one of yalls night drive, and he loved the joy it brought to you.

Another thing about Rusty is that he is an old soul, he isn't really up to date with the modern day anything really. He's a sucker for old cars, old music, old traditions. He likes old and vintage things he can't help it, and so he's kind of "fallen behind". Especially in the humor department. He gets really confused when the two of you are lounging around the house and he hears you reference some popular meme thats been going around. Which leaves the poor guy confused, raising an eyebrow in the other room. It's not until you show him where you got the reference from then he will slightly get it. But he enjoys seeing and hearing you laugh about it, so if you find it funny then he could hear you say some stupid meme he doesn't understand all day, just as long as your laugh follows behind.