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riddled-with-fear · 23 days ago

Note

May I request Pusher fucking a reagent after drugging them. I can’t stop thinking about his voice likes where he calls the player baby and bitch

ANON! giving you a forehead kiss, of course you can have a Pusher x reader fucking fic! ahhh Pusher *twirls hair* my favorite Ex-Pop.

I also cannot stop thinking about the little pet names he calls you while chasing you haha.

This was so fun to write, thank you for your patience while I wrote this lmao.

WC: 1257

CW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Extreme Dubcon, psychosis drug use leading to drugged fucking, PIV, heavy use of pet names (Baby) Derogatory name calling (Pusher calling reader Bitch), graphic descriptions of smut, Female implied Reader, The Outlast Trials is it's own warning tbh.

NSFW under the cut

Chemical Halo

The deafening siren emitting from the insertion gates blared out into the Toy Factory. The amber light flashed blindingly, further illuminating the dim room.

You had just barely escaped Mother Gooseberry and Doctor Futterman not even minutes ago, surely they wouldn’t send another Prime Asset in so soon…Right? You quickly slid under a desk, panting, your mind going over every possibility.

Then you heard it. The unmistakable hissing of Pusher’s fumigator, “Oh Baby! The places you’re gonna go…”

Fuck…You squeezed your eyes shut, silently cursing to yourself. Your mind was racing with so much adrenaline of nearly being drilled to death by Futterman you didn’t even think about the Ex-Pops.

Another series of hisses. “I’m here to snuff out the vermin!” Pusher rambled off to himself.

You heard him shuffle down the hall, and figured he was far enough away you could sneak out from under the desk and run to your next objective. You were really regretting soloing this trial.

You turned on the night vision in the goggles screwed into your skull, and as quietly as you could, you crawled out from under the desk.

You stood by the desk, listening for any signs of Pusher, Mother Gooseberry, or god forbid another Prime Asset.

Nothing.

You calmed your nerves and made your way down the hall back to the garbage compactor. You still had two boxes of sex toys to crush. That meant finding two more generators. You quickly ran to the generator you were working on and cranked it.

Once. It sputtered.

Twice. It roared.

Three-

You felt an arm grab yours, yanking you away from the generator before you could fully pull the ripcord for a third time, “I’m your Lawyer, your Doctor, and your Priest baby!”

Pusher. FUCK!

You had no antidote left on you.

“Get ready, I’m gonna screw you three different ways!” He raised his nozzle towards you, “You’re pretty cute, baby! Maybe I’ll screw you four different ways.”

He gassed you with the psychosis drugs from his fumigators tank.

You dropped to the ground, coughing and sputtering from the noxious and nauseating fumes that invaded your nose. Immediately the room began to spin. You were lightheaded. Screams and whispers filled your ears in an auditory hallucination. You looked up, seeing the Skinner Man standing down the hall. You crawled away from Pusher, desperately trying to remember where you saw antidote laying around.

“Aw, don’t be a little bitch!” Pusher walked over to you.

You grabbed a brick laying on the floor, and threw it behind you hoping it would hit him or at least distract him.

It didn’t. In fact, it missed. Horribly.

“Tryna hurt me? Come on baby, let's have some fun!”

You felt two hands grab your waist, dragging you back to where the generator was.

“It’s been a while since I've got my dick wet, baby! Indulge me a little!” Pusher raised his nozzle and gassed you again.

You fought against him, kicking and flailing your arms. Your bare foot barely made contact with the metal leg braces that were screwed into his calves. It hurt your exposed foot more than it had any effect on Pusher.

“Baby, relax! Don’t be a little cock-block!”

Between your struggle to get away, and your struggle to breathe, you didn’t notice how fast Pusher yanked your pants down to your ankles.

“You like being manhandled like this you dirty bitch?”

You tried shaking your head at him–not willing to give any sort of satisfaction–but as soon as you looked up from the floor, the Skinner Man rushed at you. You quickly looked back to the floor, letting out a pathetic gasp as you bent forward covering your head with your arms. In doing so, you only angled your hips out and up towards Pusher.

“Be cool, Baby. Be cool!” Pusher lined himself up with you and thrust into your aching cunt, “No one’s gonna hurt ya while you’re using my drugs!”

You weren’t worried about being hurt by Gooseberry. You were worried about being killed by Gooseberry. If Gooseberry caught you two, she would most assuredly have Dr. Futterman drill you a new one. Literally. And it wouldn’t stop until all the blood spilled out of you.

You moaned out at the feeling of his cock inside you as your walls burned at the stretch to accommodate the size of him, “Wait, wait!”

“Shh baby, you don’t wanna get caught now do ya? Do I gotta shove the nozzle of my sprayer down your throat and suffocate you with my gas to get you to be quiet? Cause I will, and I’ll keep fuckin ya, breathing or not.”

“No, no!” You answered him through broken moans. “Not that, please.”

“Oh, I see! Filthy bitch wants my cock down her throat to pacify her!” Pusher laughed above you. “Not yet baby, I wanna drown my cock in your soaking cunt.”

Pusher picked up his pace, spearing you open on his cock. Every rough thrust he gave you rocked your body back and forth, grating the bare skin of your arms and face against the bloody concrete floor of the Toy Factory.

The noises ripping from your throat were caught between moans of pleasure, and screams of terror. You had never been exposed to this much of the psychosis drugs in one go, and it was taking a toll on your sanity, and your health.

“Come on, Baby, those noises you’re making? Driving me fuckin’ crazy! But you gotta be quiet.”

You couldn’t be quiet. Between the embarrassingly arousing way you were getting fucked, and the drugs flooding your system, you were the opposite of coherent. Pusher didn’t ease up on his pace or the intensity of his thrusts, in fact, he only seemed to get faster and rougher.

The tip of his cock was undoubtedly bruising your cervix, any harder and you swear he would rip it open and fuck his cock directly into your womb. Your G-spot was rubbed raw at his brutalizing thrusts. Yet, your cunt was gushing arousal. You could feel it soaking your thighs. You couldn’t help but just give in and moan like a cheap whore.

“Fuck! Whiny bitch.” Pusher reached around and stuffed two of his fingers into your mouth, “Suck on these baby and keep quiet!”

You did. You closed your mouth around his grimy fingers and began sucking. You shut your eyes, and let go of everything. Every moral, every sense of self preservation, everything.

“Yeah baby, I’m almost there!” Pusher stuffed his cock into your tight cunt.

Your nerves were dancing with ecstasy, your own orgasm was approaching and it was approaching fast. Pusher fucked into you at a devastating pace. He finally snapped his hips one last time burying his cock deep in you, flooding your sloppy hole with his cum.

Your orgasm overtook you, your cunt spasmed around Pusher’s sensitive cock, squeezing every last drop out of him. You groaned out in pure bliss, drool spittling out of the side of your mouth. Pusher pulled out of you, dropping you onto the concrete floor. You were too fucked out, and too doped up on his psychosis drugs to keep yourself upright.

“Here, I’m feeling generous since you were such a good fuck.”

You barely turned your head at the object that was tossed down in front of your face.

“Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya baby!” Pusher limped off, leaving you exposed and vulnerable on the floor.

You pulled the object further to you, examining it.

Antidote.

#The outlast trials x reader #the outlast trials #pusher outlast trials #pusher x reader #pusher outlast trials x reader #dead dove do not eat #dddne #outlast #outlast x reader #ex-pop #ex pop pusher x reader

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polyphemusboo · 4 months ago

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Body swap au??? I feel like there can be a lot done with this. Can be whoever you want :)

anon, I’m forever thankful for this ask. i’m gonna make this a little series and give them all different short stories! nsfw marked like this and this so my sfw buddies can read the rest cuz it’s fun. cw: nsfw. v self-indulgent. mention of taxidermy. nothing i write is too explicit and this isn’t an exception lol love me some romantic nsfw. Simon Riley x gn!Reader

wc: 3.3k

Dream of You

Ghost | Soap | Price | Gaz

The birds are chirping, the sun’s so high up you have to squint because, naturally, you forgot your cap. Ghost’s walking next to you, both of you wearing comfortable clothes; his mask isn’t the usual skull one, but the one that's the face of a cat that Soap got for him a few months ago. You had to hide the others so he was forced to wear this one, but it was worth it. He looks a little hilarious with it.

It’s your only day off to explore. You'll be going home after a month-long mission the very next morning, so you’re going to make it count one way or another.

Ghost wasn't happy when you forced him to go with you, but he didn't put up any resistance, at least no other than a grunt. He was the only one who wasn't doing anything else; Soap was cleaning his gun, Gaz was taking a lazy nap and Price was... somewhere.

Honestly, you never know what Price does or where he is during his free time, unless you're all having some whiskey or a smoke, maybe dinner. Most of the time, he just spawns from somewhere to sleep at night.

As both of you walk around the block checking the little shops of books and pastries, Simon suddenly comes to a stop in front of you, an eyebrow raised in interest. You follow his gaze and tilt your head when you see what Simon’s staring at. A second hand shop. It looks smaller than the rest, moth-eaten wood walls and completely out of place; a hidden treasure between two department stores made of big blocks of white and grey.

It looks really old, a little dusty even from outside, but they have old books, odd looking cups, large and small silver chalices, and bones in display. The sight makes you shiver, already taking a step back, but Ghost’s too interested to hear you when you say you should continue, and walks in without a second thought. With a sigh, you follow after him.

The inside of the shop is even weirder. It feels like you’re walking into another dimension many, many years in the past. It smells of gooseberries and lilacs everywhere, under the floor, the air, the walls, and it gets stronger with each step; your mind’s spinning a little, overwhelmed by the scent, but Ghost is blown away.

He’s taking deep breaths, as if he couldn't get enough of it. Ghost takes his time checking everything: the little scented oils, the dusty books, the odd yet beautiful silver chalices, and even went through some of the dresses that seem to be hanging magically in the air. They were all black and white, extravagant and very interesting —maybe a little flashy—.

The owner of the shop clearly likes taxidermy, and apparently modifies some because most of them are just not real: monster-like animals, many of them with horns, gigantic wings perched from the walls and the ceiling… and a big, normal peacock. A tall young woman with white hair is dusting some of them, just a little away from you. She makes the big bear she’s brushing seem almost tiny, and she moves so fast that she seems to disappear when you blink.

"Hello, darlings".

Ghost jumps slightly from the other side of the shop, yet both of you turn at the same time. A beautiful woman’s standing behind the counter; locks of curly, raven black hair falling on her shoulders, eyes the color of electric purple, and her skin is so pale it makes you wonder for a moment if you’re looking at a ghost. Her clothes are black, with raven feathers by the sleeves, and the necklace she’s wearing is silver, a marigold with an obsidian star dangling over her chest; instantly, you realize that’s the owner.

She looks amused. Surprised, even.

"Are you looking for something in particular?" the woman questions, grinning at you.

"Oh. Hm, no, not really. We’re just looking” you reply, looking in Ghost’s direction. He’s practically drooling.

You can’t blame him, really. She’s truly perfect to your eyes, and everytime you think you find something that’s off, it’s like she morphs right in front of you, just growing more beautiful by the minute.

"My, my. Come over, then. I have something you two kids might like".

It’s as if she’s pulling on strings around you. Ghost and you move over before she’s even done talking, eyes eager and hearts pounding.

The woman pulls out a large incense burner. It is, as everything else inside of the shop, made of silver, but the details are insane. You share a look with Ghost before getting even closer, staring at it as if in a trance. The base of the incense burner and its stand are made in the form of a rock, massive stones and leaves. The central part, a long cylindrical container, is decorated with a large peacock, two pine trees twirling around it and becoming it’s handles.

Your fingers hover across the silver leaves, eyes wide. “How much are you asking for it?”

“Oh, you see, I was planning on throwing it away, as I’ve already made use of it for a long time” the woman smiles at you. You can swear your heart trembles just meeting her purple eyes. “It holds no value to me now, so you can take it”.

“We can’t take this for free” Ghost shakes his head, speaking for the first time in front of her, and quickly reaches out for his wallet, but the woman moves faster and stops his hand with a little tap, as if stopping a child. Both Ghost and you shut up instantly.

“Consider it a gift. You look like you need it” she chuckle. “I’ve run out of unicorns, I’m afraid”.

“Of what?”

Even though you try to insist, try to buy something else for the gift, Yennefer —that’s what she said she was called— doesn’t let you. She even gives you her favorite incense for you two to try. Yennefer said something about only using it at night, but neither of you truly understood that, and she didn’t elaborate, only smirking and winking at you.

After that experience, you don’t feel like exploring anymore. Something’s calling you back to the hotel so why wait? Besides, for some reason, Yennefer’s beautiful face was already fading from your mind, and Ghost’s having trouble remembering the woman’s name.

Weird.

By the time you make it back to the hotel, neither of you can pinpoint the woman’s name, nor her face. Not even the shop’s name. It’s all too confusing, but the incense burner is glinting in Ghost’s arms, filled with the woman’s favorite scent and ready to be lit so you can have a good night's sleep.

That’s all you both can remember now, anyway. Lilacs and gooseberries. The incense’s pretty much the same, just stronger, as if infused with something else, but you couldn’t recognize it. In any case, Ghost’s just as excited as you are to try it; maybe the scent could bring back the woman’s face to your brains?

The conversation flowed easily between the two of you again and, eventually, you completely forget about the woman. You don’t question why you suddenly have the incense burner and, if you thought too hard on it, nothing comes to mind. Not the shop, nor the woman. Just Ghost’s face. It’s just yours now, no need to question it.

Wearing sweatpants and a loose top you stole from Gaz the other day, you sink on the bed, back to Ghost, lilacs and gooseberries filling your lungs. The smoke was heavy but not unpleasant at all. It filtered through the windows and under the doors, as if fighting to remain inside. It makes you wonder just for a moment if you’ll get complaints the next morning, but not even a minute later you can hear Ghost snoring next to you, and soon enough, you are out.

You wake up to a gasp and Ghost scrambling off the bed, shaking it enough to make your eyes blink open.

Groggily, yet already worried, you sit up, rubbing your face with a heavy hand. “What? What’s wrong?” you mumble, voice a little too raspy.

“You fucking tell me”. With a start, you realize that’s your voice answering.

“What the—” you yelp, rushing off the bed as well, looking up at yourself.

It’s an experience out of this world, to see yourself standing there even though that expression is just not you. That’s completely Ghost’s. He looks at you —or himself?— with so much hate that it makes you flinch.

“What? Why are you staring at me like this is my fault? I just woke up!”

“I dunno how, but it is. This is— Are we fucking dreaming? What the hell did you do?” he jabbed his finger on your chest. “What the hell did you put in my drink? Are you into that witchcraft shit again?”

With a hiss, you slap his hand away, realizing you’re stronger than you thought you were. Maybe you shouldn’t be jabbing your fingers into their chests anymore. “Nothing! I didn’t do anything this time. For fuck’s sake. We’re probably just dreaming or something. There’s no way—”

Around you, the room starts to shift with each blink, to morph into a place you know all too well. You stand closer to Ghost as the walls change into a familiar grey, the floor becoming bright white, and the room grows bigger as three more beds fill it.

Huh.

You’re sure you’re both stoned somehow, or dead, because why the hell are you two suddenly standing in the middle of the barracks?

Beside you, Ghost grunts in disbelief and immediately walks out, nearly sprinting along the hallway. You follow him to his private room, watching him open the door without a care.

The sight makes you blink once, twice, before you look away, throat constricting as you try really hard not to make a single noise of surprise.

The lieutenant’s lying in bed, trousers and underwear around his ankles, no mask on his contorting face as he furiously strokes himself. He seems blissfully unaware of two unwanted visitors staring; one stunned, and the other one angry. Embarrassed.

Ghost tries to pull you out of the room, turning around with quick feet, a hand on your arm, but the door shuts right in his face. “Come on! Bloody hell. Why is this happening to me? Screw this!”

He’s desperately trying to kick the door down, but nothing happens. It’s as if the dream wants you to watch this, and Dream-Ghost is just not stopping.

If anything, he’s slowly growing louder, and the swift sound of his hand on his raw skin is making it hard to think, to focus. Dream-Ghost’s clearly angry, but you can see his knees trembling just slightly.

“I mean, I don’t wanna be here either, but is this seriously what you find urgent not to see?” you wonder, trying your best not to look at the bed anyway, cheeks hot. “Seems like you’re having fun”.

“Fuck off, you dickhead. Now help me push the door or I’m gonna kill you right now”.

A low grunt, a name, gives you whiplash, pausing in complete disbelief. Ghost slaps his forehead, lips pursed so tightly you just know he’s biting down on his tongue.

“Are you— moaning my name?”

“He is not real. Come on, we gotta go”.

You pull away from his tight grip, walking closer to the man on the bed,

“Is this… real? Is this the past?” you huff, your body growing warmer the longer you look at him. “Gods, we're definitely stoned. And why the hell are you angry? Do you get off to me being a dick or what?”

“What? Gods forbid a man has hobbies” Ghost shrugs, looking away. You can see, however, he isn’t as unaffected as he pretends to be.

You can feel your body reacting, straining against your pants just a little bit, slowly becoming too tight; wearing Ghost's body like a meat suit is definitely something interesting, especially now that you can feel the weight of his hardening dick in your pants. That's yours for now, anyway.

At this point, there’s no point in being shy or modest, so you stand up with no shame and no hiding, arms crossed over your chest with a little mocking grin growing in your lips, teasing as you stare at him, even if it’s a little weird to do so when he looks like you. “Lieutenant, something you wanna share with me?”

Your teasing doesn’t last long, however. Before he can reply, the room changes yet again, and Dream-Ghost is suddenly nowhere to be seen. The colors are pretty much the same, yet it all becomes a little too familiar for you, a soft, singular scent filling your lungs.

In just a blink, you’re standing in your bathroom, and the shower is running.

Your bathroom.

Your house.

“Okay, enough fun. Lets go” you say instantly, grabbing Ghost’s arm to try and kick the door down, just the way he tried to do before. But it doesn’t budge, it doesn’t even make a single noise.

This isn’t so funny anymore.

However, Ghost seems to be having the time of his life for the first time since you two woke up, eyebrows shooting up and a smirk growing across his face as he hears your voice from behind the glass door, echoing in the bathroom over the running shower.

“Well! I don’t know what’s going on, but I think we better find a way to wake up. Or die”.

“No, I don’t think so” he huffs, making you let go with a hard tug as he moves to slide open the glass door.

With a hiss, you can only stare at Dream-You, one of your hands holding you up against the wall, water running over your shoulders and down your back as your other hand’s a little too busy getting yourself off, a little too aggressively. It’s embarrassing, and you really don’t want to hear Ghost’s mocking remarks, but you sigh and prepare yourself for it.

But his face is far from amused. He’s completely focused on Dream-You, barely blinking, lips parting as he takes a deep breath. It’s unsettling watching yourself react like that, but Ghost’s not looking away.

By then, you’re already understanding what’s happening. It’s definitely that incense burner, since it’s the only explanation you can come up with, though you have no idea why.

You remember this day perfectly.

This was a couple months ago. Ghost had looked a little too good barking orders at the new recruits and, unfortunately, you couldn't get it off your head, even at home. Grunting to yourself about it, complaining to no one in particular, turned to this: to you getting off to his voice ringing in your ears.

Dream-You’s bloody shameless, moaning Ghost's real name. You have enough decency to look away from him and yourself, fighting back the twitching in your pants. Or Ghost's, for that matter.

It’s growing increasingly difficult to remember you’re wearing his body like a suit, and you can’t do anything about it. Even making it react like this makes you feel like you’re doing something wrong. It isn’t your fault this is happening, though, so—

You barely have time to feel shame when a strong hand grabs your wrist, pulling you down just a tiny bit before your lips crash against your own face.

The confusion doesn’t really last long, however.

It doesn’t matter if Simon is in your body or if you get things confused in your mind. All that matters is that it’s him kissing you, and those are his hands completely unashamed as he grips you all over. Clearly, he knows where he’s the most sensitive.

“Simon, hold up” you breath out as you pull back, voice strained, unnatural, but neither of you pay any attention to it. Your fingers are digging on his waist, hearts pounding as one. “Are you sure—”

“Shut the fuck up. I don't wanna think much of it” Simon grunts, just in time as Dream-You whimpers and nearly crumbles down the floor, spent.

It doesn’t matter, though, not when the door finally lets you both through, teeth clinking in a fierce, messy kiss as Simon pushes you towards your room, hands ripping on clothes and hair, tugging and squeezing. Just like he knows himself so well, you have him turned into a puddle in your hands in just a few moments.

It doesn’t matter when Simon gets all your clothes off, both of you finally getting a taste of what you have been holding back for months, or years. His mouth and hands are on you, and it doesn’t surprise you that he knows exactly what to do —that's his body, after all—.

Somehow, it’s as if the dream's rewarding you both, because the lights are suddenly low enough that you can only see the shape of your bodies, and your mind does the rest, filling it with the image of Simon’s face instead, and it does the same for him. Neither of you waste a second to take advantage of that.

One of his hands curls around your throat, your stomach flat against the bed until your back curves perfectly against his chest, as if made for him, breathy moans and whimpers filling the room. The slapping of your skin against his is loud and overwhelming, yet none of you stop. If anything, it only makes you go harder, rougher, leaning just how he likes to be touched, and when its your turn, the gasps he lets out are music to your ears.

It’s too hard to focus, with your nails scratching on his back, thighs curling around his waist and his around your head, and when he groans your name, body arching off the bed, it’s just too good to be true.

Just like you are, you can tell he’s committing every touch to memory, no doubt planning to do this himself next time. And there will be a next time.

You’ll make sure of that, if he doesn’t do it himself first.

With the birds chirping outside yet again, you slowly wake up, stretching your back. You feel sore all over, but it’s the best you’ve felt in a long time. The sunlight coming from the window makes your skin feel warm, and it makes it harder for you to get up, knowing you have to leave soon. Only when you feel the bedsheets shuffling slightly, you finally open your eyes. The first thing you see is Simon staring at you in silence, lips parted, seemingly a little worried, or surprised. Maybe both. With a small, sleepy grin, you shuffle closer, a leg slothing between his to get more comfortable. The relief in his body is immediate. His strong arms wrap around you, Simon’s lips finding your shoulder as a shameless hand grips your ass just right. You only pat his back slightly, a little amused.

“I’ve no idea what that was, but we gotta do it again”.

But then, just as you both shift to look at the incense burner, you notice it’s gone.

Only the faint scent of lilacs and gooseberries hangs in the air.

well! this was sm fun! im honestly a bit surprised w just how much i enjoyed it lol @kittygonap