#no beta we die like sunday | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 1 month

Note

One of your "It's a Match" chapters gave me an idea. LOVE that series btw!

What if Gaz is a virgin so Simon let's him lose his virginity with his gf? Simon is there to guide Gaz and make sure he does it right so you get as much pleasure out of it as needed. Then you give Gaz the ride of his life while Simon controls when and where he gets to cum. The poor man whimpering beneath you from the edging and denial until he finally gets permission to cum.

Sub!Gaz x Dom!Simon x Switch!Reader

(Feel free to ignore this as well.)

Took some creative liberties with the prompt and made Switch!Reader a mean/brat tamer domme even if Gaz isn’t necessarily a brat (just felt more practical for me to do it). Sue me.

Sharing is caring. || Gaz x F!Reader x Ghost

Rating: E Words: 4.7K (this one got away from me sorry) Pairing: virgin!Gaz x gf!Reader x bf!Simon CW: smut, voyeurism, hotwifing, domination/submission, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), unprotected piv, fairly rough/forceful sex (BUT CONSENSUAL), praise, slight verbal degradation?, body mods (piercings). other tags: pre-established couple, loss of virginity, pre-agreed upon conditions, consent checks, no beta we die like soap. a/n: no thoughts, just vibes. NOT PROOFREAD

Simon first brought it up one sleepy Sunday evening, when you two were lying side by side in bed, his arms snaked around you as you read an e-book, his eyes glued to the TV on an episode of some crime show.

“You know,” He had said, Roman nose rubbing the top of your head affectionately. “I’d like to run something by you.”

“Hm?” You cooed as you rolled your head back on his chest to look up at him.

“So Kyle has this problem,” Simon began to explain as he looked down at you, brown eyes peering through his blonde lashes.

That got your senses tingling and you immediately set aside the tablet to dedicate your attention to the topic at hand, turning your body to properly face him, your arm coming to rest on his shoulder.

“What kind of problem?” You questioned, an eyebrow raising in intrigue.

Simon’s eyebrows twitched lightly, a tell-tale sign he was about to bring up something ‘embarrassing’, some good gossip. “Go on!” You immediately insisted, catching the little microexpressions on his face.

“He’s a virgin.” Simon revealed, causing you to gasp, pulling your head back and shaking it in confusion.

“NO?!” You said in shock. “With that pretty face of his?” You blinked.

“I know.” Simon says and then cocks a brow upward. “So what do you say?”

You didn’t need clarification, you simply smirked and shot him a look.

That’s how you ended up here.

Simon made all the arrangements, established rules with Kyle, and finally brought him over the that following Friday.

“You sure about this, sir?” Kyle asks, ever respectfully, sat on your living room couch, with you by his side, Simon sitting across from you on the arm chair by the chandelier.

“As sure as anyt’in’.” Your boyfriend replies and casts a glance at you. “You sure, da’lin’?”

“100% sure.” You answer, before glancing at Kyle. “Are you sure about it?”

“I… I am. But… It’s… It’s your relationship, I don’t want to cause an issue.” Kyle tells you, looking at you sheepishly, dark lashes fluttering anxiously over those stunning brown eyes of his.

“It’s not our first time doing this, I’m sure Simon’s told you all about it.” You reply in a reassuring tone.

“I know but…” Kyle says as he looks at you, your hand on his knee, finger drawing light circles on the denim of his pants.

“We’ll start off slow, at your pace. If ever there’s anything you don’t like, we’ll stop.” You assure him. “Simon’s here for that, after all… Not just for my sake, but yours too.” You add.

Kyle nods and gulps down a deep breath, casting one last glance at the form of his lieutenant, sat imposingly on the arm chair, legs spread open, lounging without a car in the world. One of his legs is bent near the seat, the other stretched across, foot resting on the edge of the coffee table, and arms resting comfortably on the rests, one of his hands holding a tumbler of Bourbon. His head is cocked to the side with interest.

The young sergeant nods again and slowly leans toward you. One of his hand tentatively wraps around your hip, fingers grazing the expanse of your ass in the shorts you’re wearing, while the other grabs you around the back of the neck, his lips connecting to yours.

Your warm, wet tongue swirling with his, soft breaths and gasps coming from your mouth as you let him take the lead for a moment... it’s all making his confidence grow. Sure, he’ll need guidance eventually, but for now he’s got this.

His hand slides to cup your ass, grabbing it with a greedy grasp, squeezing his fingers into the thickness, the other sinking into your hair, fingers gently clutching your scalp as they tug into the hairs.

He’s kissed plenty of people before, this isn’t new for him, and yet, it still feels completely different, in the way you’re not ‘his’ to kiss. But, somehow, that makes it all the better.

Slowly, your lips separate and you glance up at him a single look to check on his state and he nods imperceptibly, which causes your hands to slide down his chest and begin feeling him up.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you atop of him, hands sliding under the fabric of your top to feel up your back as your own find the hem of his t-shirt and tug it up to expose his chest.

Your fingers trace his pecs, his abs, nails softly drawing down atop him, making him shiver. He’s younger than Simon, his skin infinitely smoother, his body fat percentage definitely lower, not a trace of hair on him. It’s so different from your boyfriend… And you welcome the change.

You help him take off his t-shirt, throwing it haphazardly to the side and then lower your mouth onto his jaw, neck, shoulders, collarbones… You’ve barely started and the poor kid looks like he’s already seeing the universe and all its stars, his cock having sprung to attention so quickly that the bulge in his pants keeps rubbing against your inner thigh.

Slowly, you slip down from atop of him, your hands sliding down his body as you kneel before him on the floor, hands tracing over his thighs in the jeans he’s wearing, fingers squeezing his strong muscles through the fabric.

“You’ve never gotten a bj before, have you?” You ask him, eyebrows cocked and eyes locked onto his face. He shakes his head immediately, muttering something about ‘getting a handy’ back in secondary but that was the extent of it.

“Poor thing.” You coo at him. “Never got to feel a pretty mouth wrapped around that cock, hm?” Yo teased him playfully, watching how his eyes widened, eyebrows scrunching pitifully, as you undid his belt and tugged down his jeans.

“You’re in good hands, Garrick. She’ll take good care of you. Has a very talented throat.” Simon pipes up behind you. You don’t even have to look behind you to spot the smirk on his lips, the way the dulcet of his voice comes just short of a boast and a brag of how lucky he himself is, and how lucky Kyle is that Simon was willing to share you.

You help Kyle out of his sneakers and jeans before beginnin to palm him through the black cotton of his boxer briefs, his cock already peeking up from behind the waistband, leaking precum in anticipation. “Someone’s eager, hm? Are you excited, Kyle?” You quip to him.

“Mhm. Very. Very!” Kyle nods, his eyes glued to every single movement of yours, from the way your hands palm at his bulge, to how your fingers caress his smooth skin, to how they hook onto the waistband and roll down his underwear, peeling it off his body.

He’s big, bigger than Simon, even, though not as thick… He’s circumcised and he’s perfectly shaven. You wonder if he did that for your sake, or his own preference. There’s a thick vein running down the underside of him, one you can’t wait to feel pulse against your tongue.

Taking his cock in your hand, you stroke it slowly before allowing your tongue to run atop of it, base to tip, your tongue gently grazing the leaky tip, spreading the precum over the head before slowly parting your lips and guiding him inside.

The moan that escapes the boy in front of you makes you smirk, he twitches below you, fingers clenching on either side of his thighs, as if resisting squeezing into tight fists as you slowly allow his cock to slide deeper into your mouth. Then, you start bobbing it, up and down, cheeks hollowed out and lips grazing the warm skin leaving a mess of saliva around him.

Kyle’s quick to react this time, his hand grabbing you by your hair, legs trembling on either side of you. Your eyes shoot up to find his, only to find that his head is falling back onto the back of the couch, eyes screwed closed, mouth hanging open like he’s experiencing an out of body experience.

“He’s certainly enjoying himself, isn’t he?” Simon remarks behind you, receiving a finger signal from you, a sign of agreement, a preestablished way of communicating, since your mouth was busy. “That feel good, Kyle?”

“Y-Yeah… Yeah… I-It… God…” Kyle groans in between swallowed breaths. Poor thing, you want to coo at him, already too lost in the pleasure to even speak… Oh, how beautiful he’ll look soon, fucked out under you, drunk on your pussy…

You don’t notice Simon coming up from behind you until you feel his hand grip your head, atop of Kyle’s, calloused fingers digging into your scalp. His other hand shoots out to grab Kyle’s head from the back, pulling it forward so he’s forced to stare at you.

Then, your head is shoved forward, Kyle’s cock sliding down your throat with no warning Simon’s hand holding you in place, while Kyle’s eyes widen and an obscene moan escapes his mouth. Simon controls your head, pulling and pushing you onto Kyle’s hip.

It’s no wonder that Kyle’s whole body starts to tremble, eyes widened and having trouble staying focused, or open, mouth left wide open as Simon makes him fuck the back of your throat, experienced eyes keeping watch of your reactions and signals and of Kyle’s…

He’s controlling the speed at which you go, how deep you take his cock down his throat, how much of a mess you make with your spit, and how long you get to breathe whenever he pulls you off before pushing you back on. A reminder. He’s always in control.

“Come down her pretty throat, go on, Garrick.” Simon demands. Kyle, poor thing, has already been holding on with teeth and nails to keep himself from climaxing too soon, wanting to prove himself as more than just inexperienced… But Simon’s order is so severe, he can’t keep it up… And he lets go, twitching in your mouth and shooting his come down your throat.

Simon lets go of you both, giving you a moment to catch your breaths, brown eyes staring at the result of what you just did, you, out of breath, a mess of drool down your chin, and eyes welled up with tears, and Kyle, out of breath, a mess of drool around the base of his cock, and eyes glazed over.

“Good job, da’lin’...” Simon tells you, pulling you up ever so slightly, kissing you sweetly, his tongue piercing flicking across your tongue, as if he’s looking for a taste of Kyle in your throat.

After a moment, he pulls back and looks at Kyle. “Now, you’re gonna thank her for the favour she made ya, hm?” He warns. “Let’s take this to the bed. C’mon.” He demands, taking you by the hand and leading you to the bedroom, leaving Kyle to have to keep up.

Simon, unlike you, is a practical man. He doesn’t waste time. By the time Kyle has made it to the bedroom after barely 20 seconds, he’s already got you naked and splayed atop the mattress, a pillow placed under your hips.

He’s on his knees in front of you and beckons Kyle closer with two fingers, before he uses those same two fingers to rub over your folds and spread them open, revealing just how wet you’ve gotten from merely giving Kyle head. “You see that?” Simon coos at him while you stare at them both, holding yourself up on your elbows.

“Y-Yes, sir.” Kyle replies with a nod, his own hand reaching to touch you, carefully sliding between your puffy lips, gliding across easily through the slick.

Simon grabs Kyle’s wrist and carefully guides it across to your clit, finding it with the speed of a man that’s been fucking you often since you two started dating. He knows your body, knows you better than anyone, and he’s about to show Kyle exactly how to touch you to get you to fall apart like he does…

You immediately stiffen up when you feel the pads of Kyle’s fingers against your clit, the pressure behind them coming from Simon’s hand as he rolls his fingers in light circles. It’s familiar and it immediately causes you to hum in pleasure and hiss, lying yourself back on the mattress.

“Ideally, you always keep something touch that needy little clit there.” Simon explains, more like he’s giving an anatomy lesson than having a threesome. “Be it a tongue, a finger, what have you.”

Simon’s hand then slides Kyle’s fingers away, making you whimper from the loss of contact. “Be patient, da’lin’, you’ll get more soon.” He quips. “Needy girl… Thought you were going to be all bossy with Kyle, now look at you…” He coos.

Simon turns Kyle’s hand over and, using his own hand, parts your puffy cunny before helping Kyle push two digits into your slick warmth. Kyle’s fingers are no biggy, not thick and calloused like Simon’s, and they’re surprisingly easy to take on. You moan softly at them, before becoming just a bit more vocal when Kyle’s fingers pad over your G-spot when Simon curls them just so.

“Right there, you see that?” Simon beckons, Kyle responding with mild agreement that you don’t even register because, soon, his fingers start moving, fucking in and out you per Simon’s instruction, while your boyfriend’s tongue quickly finds your clit, the cold piercing rubbing and flicking at your most sensitive spot, causing your back to arch on the bed.

“Oh, fuck, Simon…” You whine, legs already shaking, more so per the stimulation, which causes your boyfriend to use both of his free hands to keep your knees spread open as far as he could comfortably get them, tongue still lapping up at you with purposeful strokes.

The shaggy blond hair of your boyfriend vanishes for a moment, as does the experienced tongue touching you, before it gets replaced with Kyle’s slightly messier and uncoordinated attempts, Simon observing Kyle and noting your reactions and how much weaker they are, upset at the lack of proper stimulation.

“C’mon, Garrick…” Simon croons. “Your tongue’s sharp enough to roast Johnny, but you get here and it gets shy?” He taunts, before using his hand on the back of the sergeant’s neck to guide him a bit.

“I’m trying…” Kyle remarks, his face feeling warm against your skin, showing he’s likely blushing despite his darker complexion hiding it, his fingers still moving in the way Simon taught him, his only saving grace.

“Scoot.” Simon remarks and pushes his head aside, ever so slightly, causing him to rest against your thigh. Simon’s head pushes in near Kyle’s, resting against your other thigh, and his tongue catches your clit again, though the angle at he’s at now, slightly at an angle, allows Kyle to spot the way Simon moves his tongue: soft circles, zigzagging side to side, lips also rubbing against you.

Kyle watches closely, eyes widened, pupils blown with lust at the sight of Simon’s face so close and going down on you so eagerly, his eyes glued to your face up top, as if checking every single reaction you have to your boyfriend’s mouth. And react you do. Your moans are louder, jumpy, desperate, your hands grabbing the bed covers and squeezing tight, your cunt seeking Simon’s mouth as you fuck yourself onto it.

Kyle wasn’t the type to watch porn often, having little time and little interest in it, more so because he knew it wasn’t a good habit or realistic to expect it to be realistic… But the sight of Simon’s lips sucking and rubbing into your slick like it was the most delicious meal he’s ever gotten to eat was better than any of the porn he’s actually seen.

Simon’s able to make you come undone in a matter of minutes, the whimpers and needy moans, the shallow breaths, the way your head was left spinning, lolling to the side as Simon eased you down from your peak and then dropped a chaste kiss to your thigh before standing up again.

“You saw that?” He teases Kyle, who nods eagerly, no words coming to his lips after the display he just got. “You’ll get there eventually. With practise.” He assures him before patting him lightly on the shoulder. “Up you go.”

“How are you doing, da’lin’?” Simon asks, checking on you as you nod and show him a thumbs up, causing a chuckle to come from his chest before he takes a seat in another armchair in the corner, a spot he usually uses when having insomnia, right by the windows, to work on his laptop while you sleep near him… Except this time being used for something else.

“Go on, then, continue.” He demands as he sprawls out on the armchair, legs spread and already undoing his belt and fly, seeking relief from the tight feeling in his own jeans.

You nod eagerly and quickly shift to be sat on the bed, pulling Kyle toward you. “You still want this?” You ask him as you look him in the eyes… As if Kyle, needy the way he is now, after the sight of you coming undone on Simon’s tongue, would ever be able to answer anything other than a resounding ‘YES!’.

“Mhm… I do.” Kyle assures you with another nod… So, you kiss again, hands sliding over each other’s bodies just like they had on the couch before, exploring the free skin, allowing Kyle to grope you more easily. He seems fixated on your ass and thighs, fingers kneading the extra meat in them and holding you close.

His cock has long recovered from his first orgasm, now rubbing against your tummy as he kneels in front of you on the mattress. But not for long. Soon, you’ve laid Kyle on his back, and you’re straddling him, one leg on either side, slowly rubbing your folds over the length of his veiny cock.

“You’re gonna take ‘im for a right, da’lin’?” Simon asks, your eyes seeking him out in his armchair. The way you’re positioned, he can see all of you. Your pretty tits, the way your lips spread to rub against Kyle’s shaft, your legs parted open and knees digging into the mattress.

“Mhm…” You reply, your expression having shifted once again from the needy, submissive mess he had made of you, to a more dominant, playful one as you look down at the sergeant below you, looking up at you like he knows he’s in for a wild one.

“Go on then… But try not to break him, yeah?” Simon teases and winks at you, his hand already palming his cock through his own black boxer briefs.

“No promises…” You quip in return and wink back, before, carefully reaching a hand forward to lift Kyle’s cock from its resting spot against his hip.

Slowly, you sink yourself into it, his narrower build a lot easier to accommodate than Simon’s girth… But you soon regret how eagerly you did it, when you feel Kyle’s sheer size slip inside easily, his tip striking your cervix forcefully with that one swft motion.

“Bloody hell…” You grunt and bounce back a bit to relieve the pressure. “You’re big, aren’t you?” You tease Kyle who’s already unresponsive, poor little thing, eyes twice as wide as they had been when you gave him head, barely nodding in response.

Shifting your weight around, you plant your feet on either side of Kyle’s hip. “I’m gonna move, okay?” You warn him, setting your open palms on his thighs, behind your back, earning another nod from Kyle.

Slowly, you start to ride him, each bounce of your hips drawing the most delicious moans out of Kyle, his head lolling back over the foot of the bed, eyelids fluttering and his back arching.

“Gah- Fuck-” Kyle grunts, his breath already ragged before you’ve had time to do anything, just slowly moving, feeling his lengthy size rub against your walls as you force him to bottom out every time.

Kyle’s voice gets higher, whinier, his forehead dribbling with sweat with each thrust you force his cock to deliver into your slick cunny. “Feels… so… sososo so good…” He whimpers, his tone almost pathetic.

“Yeah… does it feel good?” You croon at him, a mischievous smirk on your lips, his cock drawing soft moans off your mouth as well.

“Yeah… yeah… yeah…” Kyle nods needily, his breath staggered and swallowing excess saliva.

“Yeah? Was it all you were expecting, pretty boy?” You tease him some more, earning another handful of needy ‘Yeah’s, his mind too overwhelmed with pleasure to consider saying anything else. “You don’t want me to go faster then, do you?”

“No… no… faster…” He replies, his head shooting forward, clearly eager to experience what ‘faster’ would feel like.

“Oh? Then you were lying? It doesn’t feel good, you need it faster?” You croon at him as if he was behaving like a brat and not like the good boy he really was.

“No… nO… it’s- it’s-!” Kyle tries to reply, desperate to clear the misunderstanding. Not that you give him time for it, as you speed up the speed of your bouncing, taking him in harder with each strike of your hips coming down onto his.

“GOD- YES!” Kyle shouts, eyes shot open and back curling upward, his head snapping forward to look at you and watch the way your pussy swallows every inch of his veiny cock, before letting out a huff and falling back on the bed again, desperate for more.

His hands grab onto your thighs and hips, fingers digging in hard, as you ride him, sweat beginning to slide down your forehead, down your cheeks and neck. Your eyes flitter over to Simon in the corner.

The smug fucker is watching everything with a nasty little half-grin on his lips, brown eyes darkened with lust as he watches you play with Kyle, making him squirm and whimper below you.

“Play with your clit for me, da’lin’.” His voice rings out amidst the frequent and whiney moans coming from Kyle. One of your hands slips away from Kyle’s thigh behind you, finding your clit and rubbing it slowly as you keep bouncing atop of Kyle, hips stuttering lightly as the pleasure becomes more intense.

“That’s it…” Simon says with a chuckle from his armchair, fisting his cock leisurely, as if the sight in front of him wasn’t worth any more from him. “How’s his cock feel, da’lin’?” Your boyfriend asks you.

He’s playing with your head, much like you’re playing with Kyle’s… making you go back and forth between a submissive and dominant mind frame, deriving pleasure from the mind games he’s forcing you to take on.

“It’s big…” You whimper in reply. “So big…” You murmur, your eyes soft and needy as you look at your boyfriend, watching the wicked look in his face..

“Don’t look at me, look at him…” Simon tells you. “Fuck ‘im right, he deserves it.” Simon adds. “Poor lad, been so long without experiencing a pussy…” He teases. “ow’s it feel, Garrick?” He turns his attention, and yours, to the sergeant below you.

Kyle nods pathetically. “Y-Yeah… It’s- Ah-” He whimpers, eyes glazed over with pleasure, too far gone in it, too overwhelmed with the feeling of a warm, wet pussy sheathing his virgin cock.

He’s too fucked out to think… And you’re bound to join him soon enough, with the way he looks below you, your fingers playing with your clit, and his cock swiftly hitting a spot inside you that no man’s ever reached before…

Your hips stutter atop of Kyle’s, your legs straining and tired, sore from the rhythm and position. You shift positions, leaning forward, hands coming to rest on his hard pecs, your head hanging atop of Kyle’s, facing him better.

You grind back and forth, trying to regain strength to continue, feeling Kyle’s tip rubbing deep inside of you, so deep and hard… You can’t help but whine.

“She’s getting tired, Kyle. Go on, it’s your turn.” Your boyfriend quips, his voice dripping with power and command over the two of you.

Kyle didn’t need to be told twice, his arms wrapped around your lower back and he bucked up like a bull, tossing you both aside, the bed creaking with the movement. Whatever insecurity he had is gone.

He pushes your thighs apart with his hip and starts pistoning into you with barely any regard for rhythm or how deep he’s going, his face buried into your neck as he plows into you, grunting and whining like an animal in rut. Not that you mind.

You’re used to Simon (and sometimes a few other mutual ‘friends’ of yours), men who are experienced, who know what to do, how to do it, who aren’t sloppy or erratic, who’s hips don’t jerk with each plunge into your warm cunny… It’s completely different with a bloke like Kyle. Inexperienced, green, but eager and desperate and…

You’re moaning loud and often, nails clawing at his smooth scarless back, eyes rolling as each snap of his hips claps against you like a whip, his cock burying into you to the hilt and back out before plunging back in.

Once more, Simon’s quick to come to your side, quick to crouch by the side of the bed, eyes admiring the way you both act and move, to keep a keen eye on your reactions and his, ready to pull him off you like a mutt that’ll hurt his mate if the owner doesn’t make him dismount…

But he doesn’t intervene. Not when you’re moaning like a whore, with Kyle sweating and grunting atop you, his eyes screwed shut and looking like he’ll lose every and any ounce of restraint he has in the next 3 seconds, somehow pulling the will to go on from sheer fucking air.

“You gonna flood ‘er little cunt with your come, aren’t you, Kyle?” Simon coos as he rests his forearms on the mattress, a perch to watch better.

“Y-Yeah! Yeah!” Kyle replies with an eager nod, eyes opening for a moment to look at Simon who’s so close to him.

“Yeah? Are you?” Simon continues egging him on. “You gonna fill my girl with your load?” He adds, his voice dropping to a more authoritative tone.

“Y-YEAH!” Kyle raises his voice, a bit more determined, but still deep in his natural state… obedient, ready to die for his superior, for his lieutenant.

“Go on, then,” Simon demands. “I wanna see. I wanna see you fill ‘er up.” He adds. “Tell ‘er you’re gonna do it.”

Kyle’s head turns a bit to look at you, his warm brown eyes blown wide with lust and desperation, his skin slick with sweat, his plump lips parted to let in desperate gulps of air.

“‘m gonna…” Kyle grunts as he shifts his weight lightly, his nose leaning against yours. “Gonna put my come so… deep inside you…” He warns you.

The look in his eyes, the desperation in his tone, the warning tone of his that does not at all fit his personality… Somehow it all comes together to rip the filthiest orgasm out of you, your head rolling back, eyes squeezing shut and a loud whine slipping from your parted lips as you squeeze and contract around Kyle’s cock.

Kyle can’t last not even a second longer the moment you start to come around him. His eyes fall shut, his back arches and he digs his fingers into the bed, toes curling and legs shaking as he fucks his come inside of you, drool slipping down his parted mouth.

“Good job.” Simon’s voice remarks next to you, satisfied and almost… proud, while you’re both too lost in the high of pleasure to even recognize his existence in the room or that you’re… alive, really.

#ikea writes 💚#asks #cod smut #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley has piercings change my mind #reqs #gazghost #ghostgaz #ghaz #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley smut #kyle gaz garrick smut #gaz smut #ghost smut

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izombie-ao3 · 2 months

Text

❝ Following the disappearance of your paternal figures in 1995, you- the offspring- receive a letter in the mail detailing of their possible whereabouts. The prospect of them being alive after going missing for ten years grasps at you. Waisting no time, you take hold on the letter and rush out the door with keys in hand. Your destination is as clear as day: Playtime Co. ❞ (x)

Word count: 27,051

Tags: Reader’s pronouns are YOU/YOUR & THEY/THEM, Reader is gender neutral, Reader is an adult aged 25, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Love, Strong friendships, strong feelings, Reader IS DogDay’s angel (not literally), DogDay would die for Reader, DogDay is NOT a child, DogDay is an ADULT, occasional flirting (?), Dark Humor, Blood and Gore, Swearing, Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, Angst, Fluff, DogDay lives, This is my Roman Empire and I will die for it, Cannon Typical Violence, Freeform writing, No beta we die like Mommy Long Legs, Possible romance between DogDay and Reader, Friends to Lovers, I kissed canon in the mouth and abandoned it on the side of the highway, Cannon Divergent, CATNAP DIES, (Updated tags)Reader and DogDay are MOST DEFINITELY in love, All characters are written as ADULTS, there are no children in this fic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Chapters: 17/?

Status: Temporary Hiatus

You were shaking from head to toe in a mixture of excitement, anticipation and worry. It was all far too much for your brain to comprehend at once; ten years- it has been ten WHOLE YEARS since your parents disappeared in 1995, and only now you get a letter basically telling you to come find them? That there’s hope that they could maybe still be alive?

“It’s... it’s insane, really, it truly is... but-“ you sigh, steeling yourself, hands tightening on the steering wheel of the car. “-It’s all I have to go off of...”

And just like that, you stick your key in the ignition and turn it, listening as the engine roars to life.

As you drive to the destination with the help of your phone’s GPS, you can’t help but wonder what you’ll say when you see them- your parents- after so long.

You half wonder if they’ll even remember you... Surely they will?

They have to.

By the time you arrive at the destination of Playtime Co.’s now seemingly abandoned building, the sun has slowly begun to set, dusting the sky a beautiful iridescent orange-pink, you wager that there’s likely only two hours left of sunlight before the whole world goes dark.

With one last glance at your car, you turn your attention to the large ominous building and feel a strange feeling wash over you and though you can’t find the right words to explain it, you can tell that a certain thickness hangs in the air.

Somethings not right with this place and you’re starting to doubt yourself and that letter. What if the sender has less than pure intentions?

What if your parents really are gone for good?

Would coming here have been nothing but a waste?

Will you find the answers to your questions?

You shake your head and sigh through your nose, clenching your fists together you brace yourself for the arduous journey ahead.

You’re here now and there’s no going back.

You need answers.

As you wandered around the halls of the deserted building, you found VHS tapes that when played back on the VCR gave you small tidbits of information about the people employed there and the place itself. It’s all very interesting information that helps you slowly understand what occurred here...

But, there is ONE glaring issue that you would’ve never thought about when first walking through those doors; being chased by an oversized toy!

You could feel as your heart pumped at an alarming pace in your chest, it was beginning to feel like at any moment it would jump out of your throat just like in those Sunday morning cartoons you used to watch as a kid.

And the cramp ness of the conveyer belt’s segments didn’t make things easier for you as you weaved from one corner to the next, desperately trying to escape your pursuer who was hot on your heels.

By the time you finally manage your escape out of the conveyer belt, you find yourself on a metal walkway with a colorful box hanging precariously nearby. Quickly, you use the mechanical hands from your grabpack suit to hold onto the box and just as you bring it slamming down, the walkway snaps in two beneath your feet.

The gigantic blue toy that had been chasing you falls through the void of darkness below, making contact with the pipes on its way down and in doing so you see... blood...?

You can’t help but blink, bewildered at the sight of blood, especially from a...toy.

But, no matter, you now that it’s too dangerous now to continue to linger, you need to trudge on.

“FIND THE FLOWER” you remember the words on the note, the mental image of the poppy flower etched into your mind, you have to find it, for it’ll lead you to the answers you seek.

The sight that greets you is a concerning one, in front of you is the door that you’ve been looking for, it is surrounded by an enormous painting of the same flower that was drawn in the note mailed to you and near it are various toys strung up with word of warning written around the door;

NO RUN

GO BACK

STOP

TURN AROUND

You don’t know what to make of it and it worries you, you’ve come so far and evaded death only to be met with...this? With... warnings? Warnings to turn back and stop?

You hesitate for a moment, but reach for the door job regardless. Opening it leads you down an impossibly long hallway decorated with yellow floral wallpaper and wall lamps, yet you relentlessly follow it.

The answer to what you seek lies at the end of... Surely...?

When you finally make it, you enter a small room where red light floods the room, the soft distinct sounds of a music box playing in the distance. And in the center of the room lies a glass display case that in it holds a... doll?

She sports blood red hair that is held up by two blue hair ties and a blue and white dress. Her eyes are closed.

You swallow hard and open the case....

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Chapter 2: You meet Mommy Long Legs and find yourself in quite the predicament; play her games or face death. What choice do you have, but to obey?

You venture out of the small room that you were just in alongside with a now missing doll and out into the adjacent hallway that leads you out and back into the rest of the facility.

“Man...” you say, eyeing the place from ceiling to floor tile, “...this place is larger than I thought...” you can’t help but mumble to yourself. Sure the building looked absolutely massive on the outside but, being inside of it now? Man, this place felt like it didn’t have an end to it.

“...This way...” you hear a voice whisper to you, breaking you from your silence, snapping back into reality you decide to follow it. Surely the owner of the voice could tell you what happened here?

Eventually you find yourself entering an office of what could only be the owner of the company, Eliot Ludwig, reads a piece of paper resting atop his desk. Allowing curiosity to take ahold of you, you decide to pick it up and read it and find that it contains information about an experiment... ‘814’.

Huh...

You don’t know what to make of the information but decide to pocket the paper nevertheless, It seems like it could be important.

Following outside of this area, you walk into a more mechanical looking room that seems to need power.

Suddenly the loud sound of one of vents latch coming lose frightens you, causing your attention to shift. Your body tensing up, awaiting for the horrors of this place to attack you.

But, you’re greeted by the same doll from before;

“Oh! Uh...” she seemingly stumbles over her words, a clear air of awkwardness hanging from her, “...I didn’t mean to scare you! I was just- trying to get the power back on!” She explains.

You watch her, astonished that the doll is talking and moving, could... you be seeing things? No, you doubt it, especially after your encounter with that massive blue toy- Huggy Wuggy, was it?

You silently stare at her, curious to see what’ll happen next;

“Here-!” She says, and awkwardly motions for you to do the honors.

With no other option available, you use the electric hands on your grabpack, you help solve the issue by re-routing the power supply from one pilon to the next and then onto the glowing red interface that sits just beside the red headed doll.

Upon your accomplishment, you watch as she applauds you, to which you can’t help but smile slightly and nod.

“I wanted to thank you for freeing me-“ she begins, “-I was stuck in there for so long! Thank you, I’ll have to pay you back!” She adds, to which you nod, seeing as it’s only fair.

“There’s a train station near by-“ she adds and you quirk up an eyebrow, a... train station?! In this place?! Jesus! Just how big really was this building that they needed to install a whole train system!

“-It needs a code! And I have it.”

Ah, well that makes things easier, it seems that all you’ll have to do is find it and move on to the next area.

“We’re going to get out of here...!” She explains and you nod, “As soon as you get on up here!” She exclaims, chuckling awkwardly.

Unable to find a way up to where the doll is, you decide to head back the way you came and are more than surprised when you hear her speak to you again;

“I’m over here!” She exclaims, your head turns to see her, she’s in the vents! “I can follow you from here!” You watch as she scampers off before shouting for you on the other side, “This way!”

You follow the sound of her voice, you judge that she has to be on the other side and so you walk into the hallway and into a small corner where two flashing red sensors display the red and blue grabpack hands. You place them on the sensor and watch as the system green lights your entry, allowing you further access to traverse yet another hallway.

Eventually you find yourself in a rather large room that is surrounded by five closed off gates, each one has a large title overhead indicating to which area it leads to. In the center if this room lies a massive crater whose end you cannot see as it is shrouded in darkness. The doll from earlier sits just in front of the mouth of the crater, as soon as she sees you she turns around;

“Listen, I’m going to need you to trust me-“ but before she can even finish whatever she was saying, a hand from down below reaches out and pulls her in screaming.

You’re left standing there, alone, and unsure of what to do next.

“...Fuck...” you curse, “What the hell do I do now...?” You bite your lower lip in irritation and look around, there’s no way for you to proceed aside from going down the same way that your temporary companion had been abducted.

You sigh and look down at the hole before bracing yourself, “Here goes nothing!” You shout as you descend.

Coming down you find yourself to have had- thankfully- safely landed in one of the lower sections of the facility. Next to you are three locked archways that indicate the following areas that you can go into, one of which seems to spark an innate interest within you, GAME STATION.

You deduce that the door needs power to operate and are quick to find the area that needs re-routing.

By the time you finish that task, you hear the metallic door open and you waltz on over to the connecting hallway.

Right as you use the red metallic grabpack hand on the sensor that rests above the door that impedes your journey, a voice echoes from somewhere above you;

“A new playmate!!” Squeals a feminine voice, and you watch as the hand is snatched from you, leaving you with only the blue one intact.

“It’s been... SO LONG...” the female voice explains and you watch as from above the dark ceiling a long and spindly pink figure descends. She looks no different from just another toy!

“Right, Poppy?” She asks the ‘doll’ that she holds on her hand.

“Poppy!” You can’t help but belt out in response, so that’s your companions name!

The figure ignores you and using Poppy like the doll she is, mocks her voice in response, “Very exciting, Mommy!”

“LET HER GO!” You shout, demanding the... thing, this creature called “Mommy” listen to you.

Alas, your cries fall upon deaf ears as the smile on Mommy’s face stretches farther than humanly possible. Stretching her neck, you watch as her face descends further down onto yours until she is no more than a few inches away from you.

You can’t help but cringe away in disgust, yet she isn’t deterred by your actions and only follows you closely.

“Mommy heard that miss Poppy was going to just give you the train code to escape! Now how is THAT fun?” She grins, “Instead- let’s say we make a game out of it! The game station is still working! It’ll be just like old times~” she explains.

“And-“ she uses Poppy mockingly, “-If you you win all three games, I’ll give you the train code!”

Mommy gasps a sound of mock delight, “That sounds like a wonderful idea, Poppy!”

Just before she slinks away, her head beginning to follow in the motions of the rest of her body, she says one final word to you, “Oh~! You’re going to have SO much fun~! Head to Musical Memory and Mommy will get things started!”

Before you have time to react, her head shoots down towards you at an alarming rate and she stops just in front of you;

“OBEY THE RULES OR ILL TARE YOU APART AND EAT YOUR INSIDES WHILE YOURE STILL ALIVE!”

A shiver runs down your back as finally the monstrous beast known as Mommy finally slinks away into the dark recesses of the facility.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Chapter 3: You play Mommy’s games...

Arriving at the Game Station you find yourself in a colorful large open space, with- as the name entails- a large variety of games to play. Remembering the information that you’ve gathered so far of the place from the stray files, notes and fliers littered about, you piece together that this had to have been one of the major areas that the orphans of Playtime Co. would spend a large amount of their time in.

Still though, none of it makes that much sense to you- why would they even have such a place erected inside of the facility?

“I mean-“ you cut yourself off, “-I guess it makes sense..? After all, how’re you going to keep possibly hundreds of orphans entertained?” You asked no one in particular.

“You can’t just keep them locked away in their rooms...” you muttered under your breath, your eyes wandered to and fro. There was so much to look at, from the decoration that littered around, to the cardboard cutouts of what is likely to be the toys and mascots of Playtime, but what catches your eye the most were the drawings left by the orphans.

You looked at the colorful drawings, all made with crayons and markers, it depicted the kids playing alongside three key figures that you’ve now seen and gotten to know thus far;

Kissy Missy, Huggy Wuggy and ‘Mommy’.

You get a sense of... happiness from them? It seems that the children had fun with them...

Fun... huh... that’s, arguably hard to imagine when you’ve had your life threatened by two out of three of these creatures.

Sighing, you hope that at least Kissy Missy won’t slaughter you the moment you meet her.

Shaking your head, you remember what you’re here for; the train code. “Best not to keep Mommy waiting...” you mumble to yourself.

Exploring the area some more, you eventually find the room where the hands for the grab packs are made!

“Oh! Sweet!” Excitement fills you as you realize that you can get a replacement for the one that you lost.

Fiddling here and there with the strange machinery, at long last you’re given your replacement green hand!

Sometime later, you finally make you way into Musical Memory, you’re greeted by a rather strange set up; the room is roughly circular in shape, with a large open space around you that is obviously inaccessible to you. But the center of this room has a circular platform that is surrounded on both sides by round buttons

roughly the size of beach balls.

Atop the circular platform is a cylindrical protrusion that extends far beyond from the ceiling and sits just above the center arena.

You can’t help but whistle in amazement at the sight;

“And to think that kids actually played in here? Geez, you’ve got to be kidding me-“ you mumbled, “- this place would’ve terrified me as a kid...” you add.

Upon stepping inside of the centerpiece, you watch as massive screens all around you suddenly burst to life, surprising you as a result.

The sounds of odd music begins to play and the logo of Playtime Co. appears on screen;

“WELCOME TO MUSICAL MEMORY!” Voices an automated mechanical male voice.

“THIS ADVANCED MEMORY AND RECOGNITION TEST IS DESIGNED TO STIMULATE SEVERAL SEGMENTS OF THE BRAIN! ALLOWING US TO SEE HOW QUICKLY AND EFFICIENTLY YOUR BRAIN WORKS! A SEQUENCE OF COLORS WILL BE SHOWN, AND YOU MUST RECREATE THE EXACT SEQUENCE USING THE BUTTONS AROUND YOU. BUNZO WILL SLOWLY LOWER TOWARDS YOU-“

“Bunzo?” You croak, “Who the hell’s Bu-?” A nagging sensation in the background of your mind urges you to look up, and as you do you are greeted by the sight of a yellow rabbit with bright green overalls, holding two large cymbals in each hand.

It’s eerie dead smile focused on you.

“Ah!” You say, looking away, “Right...!”

“-WHEN YOU COMPLETE A COLOR PATTERN CORRECTLY, BUNZO WILL SLOWLY RISE BACK UP! WHEN YOU IMPUT A PATTERN INCORRECTLY, BUNZO WILL LOWER TOWARDS YOU FASTER. IF BUNZO REACHES YOU, YOUR TEST IS OVER. YOUR TEST WILL BECOME MORE DIFFICULT AS IT CONTINUES WITH LONGER PATTERNS AND QUICKER SUCCESSIONS. THATS IS ALL, GOOD LUCK!”

You swallow hard and sigh through your nose, shrugging your shoulders in a rolling motion you ready yourself for what’s to come.

However, before the game itself can start, suddenly the light die out, except for one, drawing your attention.

You are greeted by the sight of ‘Mommy’ who sits inside of what looks to be an observation room that sits way above the room, out of sight from those made unaware of its existence.

“Oh~! Isn’t it amazing~?! Mommy hasn’t seen the place up and running in YEARS!! Mommy can only imagine how excited Bunzo must be! It’s been such a long time since he’s been able to play, to cheer, to eat...”

At her last words, the rabbit above you seemingly ‘comes to life’ and clangs its cymbals together producing a rather loud sound. You snap you attention to glare at it, the creature seems unperturbed by your expression.

You hear Mommy sigh, “Ah well, that’s the dinner bell~! Good luck~!” And just like that the room floods back with light and the game begins...!

As you play the game, you suddenly watch as the machine begins to freak out, the mechanical male voice calling out an array of unintelligible colors. The buttons move around in an odd manner; twitching, spinning and even flipping!

You don’t know what to do, so you stand there dumbfounded for a moment until your eye catches sight of a hidden white button. Pressing it causes the machine to momentarily flutter, its mechanical parts visibly stuttering as they move in ways that they should not until it finally ceases all movements.

The lights shut off once again;

“Ah... it broke...”, you can hear the clear disappointment in Mommy’s voice, “...that’s no fun! For doing such a splendid job, Mommy has decided to give you PART- of the code for the train...!”

Above you, in the same place where Bunzo had previously been, comes Mommy’s hand, and in it a piece of paper. You take it with no hesitation.

“Mommy was hoping the game could last a little longer~! It’s okay though... Mommy knows OTHER ways to play with you~”

You bite your bottom lip out of nervousness and choose not to linger any longer, quickly making your leave, lest you overstay your welcome.

Arriving at the following game, you enter yet another odd location; it’s an open concept room with LOTS of space in the center for you to seemingly run or walk around as you please. Around you however is a wall that is painted in a rather whimsical manner, akin to that of Sunday morning cartoons, and inside of said

walls are an assortment of... tunnels? At least you think that they’re tunnels, since looking in them yields no more than expansive darkness.

The same sound as before of TV static catches you attention and you turn to face a lone TV screen;

“WELCOME TO WACK-A-WUGGY! THIS ADVANCED TEST IS DESIGNED TO ASSESS THE EXTENT OF YOUR REACTIONARY ABILITIES. A DUAL PALM GRABPACK WILL BE PROVIDED TO YOU FOR THIS TEST. AROUND YOU ARE 18 SIZABLE HOLES, AN ADORABLE HUGGY WUGGY TOY COULD APPEAR OUT OF ANY OF THESE HOLES! IF ONE COMES OUT, HIT IT WITH YOUR GRABPACK! THATS ALL, GOOD LUCK!”

To say that you’re surprised when the lights don’t die out is an understatement, you almost reflectively call out to Mommy, half wondering if she’d left you.

“The toys in this game, used to have strings attached to them, so they could be pulled back when they got too close to the children...” she explains.

You watch her with a cocked brow, not understanding where she’s going with this, and it’s not until you finally note what she’s holding that it finally hits you.

“Have fun~”

As you finish the game, hitting the last Huggy Wuggy on the head, you hear Mommy chime in once more;

“Oh...” she sounds incredibly disappointed at the results, “...you did it...” there’s a beat of silence before she speaks again, “HORRAY!! Mommy is SO proud of you! Here, mommy has another hint for you-“

A vent in the room opens, Mommy’s hand sticks through it, and on her hand is yet another piece of paper.

You gingerly take it.

“Only one last game left to play...” Mommy reminisces, “Hmm... sad! Mommy was hoping you’d stay here forever! Though~ it’s never TOO LATE to change your mind~” she chuckles eerily.

You can’t help but cringe away in disgust as you quickly make your way out.

As you leave the area, you find yourself in what looks to be long winding hallways that are powered by what looks to be some sort of... train tracks? You wonder if maybe the train passed through here or perhaps- some other sort of mode of transportation.

Given with how long this portion of the facility is, you’d wager that some sort of transportation did in fact pass through here.

As you make your away about you eventually come across a door that is also locked and conveniently, behind it is the lever needed to unlock it.

Sighing and thinking that you’ve struck a dead end, you make your leave, but just as you do so, you’re stopped by the sounds of a door in the distance of the locked metal frame open up. As it rises you feel dread settle deep inside of you, the sight of what greets you causing you to freeze in place.

A toy, much the same size and design as the blue one from faaar earlier in your journey appears before you and it’s making its way TO you.

Kissy Missy.

You watch as she calmly approaches, she stands there for a moment and eyes you curiously, then eyes the lever next to her, then back at you and back at the lever once more.

As if a lightbulb lit up atop your head you nod at her, “Y-Yes-!” Your voice finally finds its courage, “-I-I need to open that! Pl-Please! Please Kissy Missy!” You plead.

Though she doesn’t reply to you, you watch as she fumbles with the lever, her soft plush and somewhat weightless hands struggling to pull it down, until eventually succeeding.

As the gate slowly rises in-front of you, you watch as Kissy Missy gives you one last lingering look before turning around, as she does so, she stops again and seems to give you another once-over.

Seemingly satisfied, she makes her leave, the door at the far end of the hallway shutting behind her.

You enter what seems to be the final game area, the room appears to be dimly lit, with just enough light to see what’s around you. This room is quite unlike all the others, it seems more colorful and as you try to jump over the block-styled plush blocks, you can roughly make out other designs of the area. It seems that this one has more activities than the one before it...

The all too familiar TV static sound behind you catches you attention and you turn to face the only TV present;

“WELCOME TO ‘STATUES’! THIS ADVANCED OBSTACLE COURSE IS DESIGNED TO TEST YOUR PHYSICAL ENDURANCE AND STRENGTH! THE RULES ARE SIMPLE: THE LIGHTS WILL TURN OFF, YOU CAN MOVE THROUGH THE OBSTACLE COURSE DURING THIS TIME. HOWEVER, WHEN THE LIGHT TURNS ON; YOU CAN LOOK AROUND BUT CANNOT MOVE. YOU MAY MOVE AGAIN, ONCE THE LIGHTS TURN BACK OFF. THE LOVABLE PJ PUGGAPILLAR WILL FOLLOW YOU, IF HE REACHES YOU, YOUR TEST IS OVER. THAT IS ALL, GOOD LUCK!”

That’s when you notice the face of the odd looking dog just beside the TV screen! Compared to the other toys, his presence is not all that unnerving- well, only partly- and is more... endearing, to a fault.

“Right, okay-“ you nod, “Sounds easy enough...”

You take notice of Mommy in the distance;

“It was always SO sad to see the kids go, they called me ‘Mommy’ because I was the closest thing they ever had to one... They came for the games and then never came back...! They LEFT Mommy to DIE alone! Mommy didn’t deserve THAT~... But you...” she pauses briefly, “...you’re here, so if anyone deserves to DIE ALONE... it’s YOU.”

And just as she finishes speaking, the music begins and PJ Puggapilar makes his way towards you, slowly and lumber some, you waste no time playing the game as you’re told to.

Playing this game was the hardest one by far, but you somehow managed it anyways! As you escaped up into the same room where Mommy was mere moments ago, you find a hole in that little room and descend into it. As you walk out, the sounds of walking are heard above you;

“Where did you go?!”

It’s Mommy

“Shit, shit, shit, shit-!!” You hiss at yourself, you HAVE to get going.

“The game is over~! Come back and Mommy will give you the code! Pinkie Promise!” Mommy exclaims, but her words fall in deaf ears, you know BETTER than to trust these toys.

“Playing those games must’ve been hard! But Mommy decided you won~!” An eerie laugh fills the halls as you make your escape.

“Come baaack~!”

“Mommy doesn’t like cheaters!! The rules were so simple!”

“COME BACK HERE!”

“HOW DARE YOU DISOBEY ME!! IM GOUNG TO FIND YOU-! IM GOING TO FIND YOU-!! AND WHEN I DO-“ she cuts herself off only to laugh maniacally.

“WHERE ARE YOU?!”

Eventually as you meander and maneuver the expansive facility you come at a dead end, there’s a closed fence door that you cannot open and you don’t know where to go. Mommy’s hot on your heels and the only where else to go is back the way you came...

“Fuck no...” you shake your head, “I’ll die if I do-“

As if answering to some unholy prayer, Mommy decends from where you’d come from, screaming as she does so. She lands right in front of you with a look of bewildered rage;

“I ASKED YOU TO PLAY FAIR!! AND YOU CHEATED!! I HATE CHEATERS!!” She shouts at you, “Now~ we’re going to play ONE LAST GAME, it’s called... HIDE...AND S E E K!!”

Suddenly!! As if by done divine or unholy magic the one locked gate opens and just as it does, Mommy begins to count down from 10.

RUN RABBIT, RUN!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Chapter 4: You escape, or do you?

With your heart pounding inside your chest like never before, you scamper through the facilities seemingly never ending passage ways. The pitter-patter of your feet being echoed and overshadowed by the massive ones just down the hall.

Mommy’s coming to get you and you’d better NOT stop running.

You hear the facility’s weaker points crumble around you under the pressure of your much larger pursuer, causing a cave in behind you at just the right moment. Giving you much opportune time to swing above the maw of yet another bottom less cavern beneath your feet.

As you escape, you enter the same familiar hallway from before, this was the same place where you had

lost one of the grabpack’s hands!

Freedom was just within your fingertips!!

You rush down the hall and place the blue hand against the scanner and watch as slowly the machine ID’s you in.

When a chime rings, indicating a roaring success you rush into the room and barely notice the machinery next to you, your eyes are only fixated on a lever that’s next to it.

On impulse you grab for the lever and pull it down JUST in time for Mommy to rush into the room, her hand lodging itself inside of the machine’s mechanical teeth.

She tries desperately to free herself as she eyes you with wild animalistic eyes, there’s a hunger to them unlike any living creature you’ve ever seen, rivaling that of a starved tiger.

Fearing for your safety, you throw yourself backwards just as she tries to reach for you with her other hand.

Just then, the machine roars to life and begins to grind Mommy’s hand down to a pulp, she screams in agony as she tries hopelessly to free herself from the clutches of death.

“WHAT’VE YOU DONE?!” She screams, “HE’LL MAKE ME PART OF HIM!!”

You watch as Mommy’s arm is taken by the machine, followed by her leg as she tries to wriggle away in vain from its grasps.

“YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME!!”

It’s not until Mommy’s torso gets crushed by the machine that she finally gives one final wail of despair that she dies.

Silence befalls the room as you stare in silent shock, your hands are shaking, your heart and head are pounding.

You’ve just managed to escape death, TWICE now.

What remains of Mommy’s body falls limply to the ground, a lifeless smile still decorating her features.

As you stand there, you watch as slowly, from underneath a blocked off door, a long spindly arm reaches out with elongated mechanical fingers.

The creature behind the limb says nothing to you, only reaching forth for Mommy’s remnants and dragging it away into the abyss.

When it finally leaves, do you find yourself sliding down the wall that your back was pressed up against.

You let out a whimper as a cry finally croaks out from your throat.

You cry pathetically, perhaps out of stress, and you allow yourself this grace.

Eventually, when you find your courage to continue, you wipe away your tears and stand back up on shaky legs and make your way back to where your original goal was; the location of the train.

And it doesn’t take long for you to reach it, when you finally find it, you discover that Poppy and the final piece of the code alongside her.

You feel her from the... web she seemed to have been entangled in, no doubt the works of Mommy.

“Let’s go...” is all Poppy offers you, and you can’t help but agree, you want to leave this hell hole and NEVER come back.

As you board the train, you input the code and watch as the buttons light up green.

You can’t help but sigh in relief as you feel that you’re one step closer to finding your freedom.

“I was so scared she’d put me back in that case...” you heard Poppy speaking to you from the train’s overhead announcer.

Wait.... Why hadn’t she gone inside with you?

“What the hell? Poppy?” You called out, but you knew you wouldn’t get a response back.

“But you saved me! You’re PERFECT! You’re too perfect to loose! I’m sorry, but I can’t let you leave-“

You watch as the train is re-routed in front of you, the escape passes you by and the vehicle turns to the right, sending you deeper within the bowls of the facility.

“I’ve never met anyone like you!” She chuckles, “Do you know how LONG I’ve been stuck in that case?! Well~ too long~! I had so much time to think and reflect- to figure out what I’d do when I was freed...” there’s a pause as she speaks, “We have to set things right, terrible things have happened, but I know that whatever I need you to do, you’re capable. We will- what’re-?!”

You watch with great alarm as the train picks up speed, far too much speed for what you think is appropriate.

“Shit! We’re going to crash!!” You exclaim, and you grab onto the red lever with your grabpack hands, pulling it down with all your might.

But it’s hopeless as the train derails, crashing down against the confines of the tunnel, debris and broken rubble surround you and as your consciousness fades, you can just barely make out the words of your new location;

PLAYCARE.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Chapter 5: You arrive at PLAYCARE and as fate would have it, a new horror awaits to make its acquaintance with you.

As consciousness slowly returns to you, you find that your body aches all over, a stinging sensation fills you throughout. When you finally do crack your eyes open, you find that your vision is unsteady, your head lolling from side to side.

That’s when you finally realize that you’re being carried... by... something?

Large purple paws adorned with equally sharp claws come into view on a casino as your would-be rescuer walks.

But before you’re given the opportunity to thank them, you’re thrown down a hatch by the same thing that ‘rescued’ you.

The last thing you see is an impossibly large smile and two white beady eyes staring back.

A pathetic yelp leaves your lips, as a malicious laugh echoes throughout the pipe.

You free fall for a short while before falling limply on metal flooring, a red flood lamp circles around

you in this new area along with an alarm that blares loudly indicating something is about to happen.

You rise to your feet and hold your side, you cringe in pain as you stand stupidly eyeing where in god’s

green earth you’ve landed now.

It’s not until the walls begin to close in that it finally dawns on you where you are; a trash compactor!! You must get out.

You scramble towards a pile of precariously placed trash and scamper through a small opening behind

the walls of the compactor.

You find that you’re free- for now- and must find a way out of where you are and go... somewhere that

isn’t here.

It’s too dangerous to stay where you are, and thus begins yet another long and arduous journey.

As you meander about, traveling to and fro inside of the guts of the facility, you find yourself using the

pistons that likely control the trash compactor as leverage to reach newer areas that would otherwise remain out of bounds for you.

You traverse a broken down metal catwalk and use the pistons near it as means for transportation, timing your jumps just right to get over to the other side.

Doing so, you catch glimpse of the same purple figure from before, although this time you now have a slightly better look at their lower half before it slinks away.

A long emaciated body with large paws to boot and a lengthy purple tail to match. A cat.

You shudder as you come to the realization that a game of cat and mouse has most likely begun, and you- my friend- are being stalked from within the shadows.

As you continue on, you eventually find yourself crawling through a ventilation shaft until eventually entering in the same room as just a few moments before. To your far and immediate right is the same hatch you were thrown into, and to your immediate left is an office door locked behind yet another grabpack scanner.

Scanning in the hands, you walk into the new area, the sounds of ringing fills the still air.

It’s a phone...! A phone is ringing!

But, who could be calling? Your pursuer? Or... someone else?

To say that you want to ignore the phone and pursue on is an understatement but, something inside you

wills you to comply otherwise and so you do, rushing off in the direction of the noise.

You find yourself inside of a small office, the distinct ringing of a phone ring much louder now, you’re

close to the source. It doesn’t take long for you to search around the room and find it, you take it with shakey hands and answer it.

“H...Hello?” Your weary voice calls out.

“Hey... Hey! Can you hear me?” A childish voice responds.

A child?

“O-Oh! Um! Y-Yes! Yes! I can!”

“You look kinda lost!” They reply

You pause, dumbfounded, “Wh-...what did you just say?”

“I can see you through the camera’s dummy!”

Cameras? When did-?

As you turn around, you spot one and sigh, oh... right. What better way to make sure that you’re

employees are working than to monitor their every move?

You smile and wave hello at the camera and listen as the voice on the other end laughs in response. “I’m Ollie by the way! What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/N, Y/N L/N...” you correct

“Oh! Well it’s nice to meet you Y/N! Look-“ they pause momentarily, “I don’t want you to die, so I’m

going to help you! Check this out! Look at the tube thing in the back wall!”

You follow Ollie’s words and turn to face the back of the room, spotting a large oddly shaped metallic

tube that slides open following some noise. And out from within it pops a large battery!

“You can use that battery to open the door!”

You grab it and place it inside of a battery socked that’s embedded within the wall. The door beside you

opens as a result. “Thank you Ollie”

“Don’t mention it!”

As you go to leave, you’re greeted by the sight of the now broken train, your eyes go wide as you stare at the carnage left behind from the crash.

“Woah!! Did you do that?!” Ollie asks

You nod, “Yeah...” there’s a distinct sadness within your voice, just when you thought you were free you were once again seemingly betrayed by the only toy you thought you could trust.

“I know you’re probably mad at Poppy for not letting you escape, but she needs you! WE need you! You are our mission! Together we can save a lot of people, including YOU!”

You walk along the path, quietly listening to Ollie speak to you from the phone as you traverse the confines of the facility.

“PLAYCARE is straight ahead, it’s the home of CatNap! One of the ‘Smiling Critters’... there used to be...” a pause, “eight of them? I think? Now it’s just him...”

“PLAYCARE is his church- his hunting ground. Whatever he wants it to be! You’d better get moving

quickly. We’ll keep in touch!”

The line goes dead and you’re plunged into silence, an eerie ness settles inside of you as you realize just

how dead and desolate this whole place is. What with the only last remnants of life being the few murderous toys and... seemingly a, child?

You don’t know what’s to make of it, nothing makes sense to you, and the more you explore the place, the more you come across fragmented pieces of information you begin to wonder just what the hell did your parents get themselves into when they came to work at such an establishment.

“Did they even know about the toys?” You ask the empty air, eyeing a poster of ‘Mommy’ who you now knew as Mommy Long Legs advertising a sweet cold drink for children.

You shake your head, you have to find PLAYCARE, it’s likely where your next goal awaits you.

You traverse the rather small area in-front of you fairly easily, having spotted what looked like a tram up ahead you deduced that it needed power and sought out to find a power source. Once founded, its power was re-routed and a chime rang throughout some speakers in the walls, the small child sized gates opened up, allowing you further passage up ahead.

You climbed the short staircase and opened the door to the tram, stepping inside you found a small seating area.

Sighing heavily, you thought that some much needed rest would do your sore body some good.

And just as the doors shut behind you, the lone TV screen inside of the tram came to life;

“Hello! My name is Elliot Ludwig, when you look around at the world today, what’s one thing it needs

more of? I asked around once; ‘Money! I can never have enough!’, ‘Understanding, I can never get any!’, the common man has lost it, each answer was different and I could perhaps see some little truth in each. But I think each was missing something, something simple! You see, not one of them could muster a smile! A smile, is hope! A smile, is love! A smile is understanding! And there is nothing more gratifying to my soul than being the reason for a child’s smile! To be the spark that ignites their hopes and dreams! For it is only through hopes and dreams that we may create a better world! One where our children need not be afraid! One where they are protected! After all, this company and its toys are nothing without them. These children deserve to smile, they deserve to love! And they deserve a safe home...-“

As you listen to the founder’s speech, you can’t help but gawk in awe at what the hell you’re looking at;

A gargantuan dome suspended on equally large metallic cables that hold it seemingly afloat in the middle of an enormous cavern, situated DEEP within the bowels of the facility.

“...that is why, it is with enormous pleasure that as the founder of Playtime Co., I announce P L A Y C A R E !! Our very own on site orphanage, but it’s not only that!! It’s a school! A playhouse! A place to belong! Our very own ecosystem beneath the surface! Dedicated in every inch and detail to ensuring a child’s smile! It’s teachers and counselors, mother and fathers until such a time they have all of that in youth! May PLAYCARE bring; joy! Inspiration! And smiles to all who enter these doors! For what gives live its meaning if not a SMILE! ”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Chapter 6: The game of cat and mouse truly begins.

As you step out of the tram, your phone rings once more;

“Cool place, huh? Kids used to live here... now look at it...”

You look around and notice just how lifeless the place looks despite being one of the nicer looking areas

in the whole of Playtime Co.

“Anyways, do you see that statue in the middle of the room? Take the stairs that go under it! There’s a really cool room that can power all of PLAYCARE! I can give you a key when you get down there!”

Sparing no time to enjoy the sights around you, you make your way towards the large statue in the middle and find the door that sits at its base, opening it reveals a short staircase that leads downwards.

When you descend the stairs you find yourself in a medium sized room filled with electronic machines, a small desk and a few other nicknacks thrown about. However, the biggest point of interest is a funny looking colorful machine that- to the side of it- displays all of the areas within PLAYCARE that have power.

To the side of this machine you note that there’s a cylindrical vessel much like the one you saw in that first office room when you first encountered Ollie, although this time it was far smaller.

A small sound emits and before you know it, a key has appeared inside of it. It’s miniscule latch opens itself up automatically.

You reach in and fetch the key, only for your phone to ring in response, you take the call;

“Great!! You have the key! Now the question you’re probably asking yourself is, ‘where does it go?’ Well, head back out and you should find a door just to the left of the cable car you took down here.”

You had noticed that door earlier upon your arrival, you jog on over to said destination and use the key to open the door. You’re greeted with a rather dark and somber looking area, perhaps that’s due to the poor lighting and metal framework of the facility coming into view once more as opposed to the faux sky and grass from earlier.

As you turn the corner you’re greeted by a massive room and in its center is a large machine with three cylindrical barrels, the one on the far right is currently filled with a gaseous red cloud. The display on the center console for the machine reads;

‘NO POWER - GENERATOR STATUS: {OFFLINE}’

“Welcome to the Gas Production Zone, the beating heart of the whole evil PLAYCARE system! All that has you see coming from the machine is made right here in the factory. It’s called ‘The Red Smoke’. Right now, it’s all headed off to the right. We need to make that Red Smoke go to the left instead. That’s how we can get to him- to CatNap. The machine will probably have a few dumb safeguards for you to work around, but I think you can do it! I’ll call you once it’s done!”

You fiddle about with the machine, trying to see if there’s anything you can do from this end to power it. You’re no engineer, but you wager you can get it going!

After a while, you find a way into the area next door, powering on the locked door with the help of a battery and its wall socket.

This new area is just as massive as the one with the machine, though this time it has an odd looking protrusion in its center. You’re unsure of what it could possibly be, so you decide to ignore it for now and focus on following the wires from the ceiling. They’ll lead you to another power source that needs re-routing.

And it doesn’t take long to spot it and fix the issue, you hear the distant sounds of machinery whirring to life and go back the way you came. When you arrive back at the same room with the gargantuan machine, you press a few buttons to get the process going of re-routing the gas’ location from one onto another when the power abruptly cuts off.

Your phone rings once more and you answer it;

“Oh no! Someone killed the power! Okay, I’ve sent you another key. It’s under the statue, use it to get into ‘Home Sweet Home’. Then once you’re inside, find the building’s back up generator. Good luck!”

You sigh, rolling your eyes, “Of course nothing’s going to be easy, not with that goddamn cat hiding around...” you groan in frustration. You pinch at the bridge of your nose and pursue onwards.

“Fine, a vendetta it is.” You state, fists clenched in annoyance.

With key in hand, you open the doors of Home Sweet Home and walk forth into by far one of the most beautiful and equally terrifying places you’ll ever be in.

Matching green wallpaper and curtains depict both Huggy Wuggy and Poppy in such a way that you wouldn’t have even noticed at first place.

The whole style of the area is reminiscent of vintage mixed with Victorian home decor. You feel like you’ve stepped into a time capsule.

You open the only door leading you further down and it’s ‘blocked off’ by a thick wall of red mist. The same one you saw earlier in the vat of that machine.

“That... can’t be good...” you mutter

You’re hesitant to proceed but there’s no other way forward, so you have no choice but to proceed. Attempting to hold your breath and using your shirt to hopefully mask your nose and mouth you descend

down a large and winding staircase case that seems to go on for a while. Your attempts at holding your breath fail as you hack and cough for air, breathing in lungfuls of the red mist alongside it.

When you finally reach the end, you’re met with an impossibly long hallway. You stand quietly for a moment to stare in awe;

“I’m starting to think that the gas had a negative effect on me...” you speak, keeping your voice low, “... that or they hired the worst contractor in this state...” you can’t help but chuckle at your own joke.

You explore the odd layout of ‘Home Sweet Home’ and find yourself in a never ending loop of hallways, each one just as identical to the last.

Suddenly, the crackle of radio static come on and you hear the radio begin to speak;

“{TRAGIC NEWS THIS MORNING. AS OF 9:45AM, LOCAL AUTHORIES CONFIRM THAT THE BODY OF A YOUNG BOY HAS BEEN FOUND ON THE ESTATE OF THE LATE ELLIOT LUDWIG, AN ESTEEMED TOY MAKER AND ORIGINATOR OF THE PLAYTIME COMPANY. AT THIS TIME, AN IDENTITY FOR THE CHILD AWAITS OFFICIAL CONFIRMATION. FOUND UPSTAIRS IN A LARGE DUFFLE BAG, OFFICERS ON-SCENE REPORT THAT THE REMAINS APPEARED TO HAVE BEEN DISTURBED. ORGANS AS WELL AS KEY BINES FROM THE SKELETAL STRUCTURE WERE REPORTED MISSING FROM THE BODY. IT IS UNKNOWN AT THIS TIME WHETHER THIS EXTRACTION WAS, IN FACT, THE CAUSE OF DEATH}”

The radio announcement fades into static and you feel a spine tingling chill rush down your back.

“I’m hearing things, I’m hearing things, I’m hearing things-“ you try to assure yourself, you hold your head with one hand and bolt down a random direction down one of the winding halls.

“-all those notes I collected are getting to me, n-nothing’s happening here, I’m just imagining things-“ you slap your cheeks, trying to get yourself to think.

“-Y-Yeah! That’s right! It’s just auditory hallucinations due to that red mist, that HAS to be it!”

As you round yet another hallway, another radio speaks;

“{FOLLOWING RECENT EVENTS, PLAYTIME CO. WAS ASKED FOR ANY COMMENT REGARDING THE DISCOVERY. THIS IS WHAT THEY HAD TO SAY, QUOTE: ‘ITS SICKENING. ELLIOT LUDWIG WAS A GREAT MAN, AND THOSE WHO KNEW HIM UNDERSTOOD THAT HE

WAS NOT CAPABLE OF VIOLENCE, LET ALONE WHAT OTHERS NOW CLAIM. HE HAD A DEEP LOVE IN HIS HEART FOR CHILDREN LIKE THIS ONE, MAKING THE ACTIONS IF WHOEVER PLANTED THIS BODY ALL THE MORE SICKENING. WE LOOK FORWARD TO CLEANING HIS GOOD NAME, BOTH IN THE PUBLIC EYE AND IN THE EYES OF THE LAW.’ STAY TUNED FOR MORE.}”

The voice at the end of the broadcast sent a vile chill down your spine that only urged you to run away in fear.

As you continued to run, the sound of a distant phone caught your ear, and so, you decided to cautiously follow its source.

When you reach it, as you go to pick it up, on the other end you’re met with... Ollie? “YOU NEED TO RUN!!” He urges you.

You feel yourself freeze in place as a sense of dread washes over you, slowly you turn to face what could possibly be behind you, only to be met with the face of CatNap, poking his head out from the corner of the door frame leading into the room.

As soon as you see him, you watch him slink away and a frightened yelp leaves your lips, your hands fly to your mouth in an attempt at further silencing you.

Cautiously you step into the same spot where you saw CatNap but thankfully are met with nothing. You trudge onwards, now on high alert for the feline’s whereabouts...

As you descend down further into the never ending hallway you feel yourself seep further into madness. As you hear the wails of children crying in your ears, the sound only progressively getting louder as you approach a room lit by a dim red light.

And all at once, the wails silence themselves, as though they were never there.

You feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes when you finally step foot inside of the area. You’re terrified and you don’t know what to do anymore...

You eye the large VCR TV and it’s VHS player, just next to it is a red VHS. Confused you decide to grab it and slide it in, standing in front of the TV and watching whatever it is that appears next;

You’re greeted by the sight of no less than Huggy Wuggy who stares at you with enlarged pupils, an eerie dead smile decorating his features.

The sight makes you gasp softly and recoil in shock.

A recorded male voice chimes in;

“Greetings, Employees, and welcome to your first day here in Playtime! We’re certain that in the days to

come you’ll find your new family here every but as loving and supportive as your own. Feel free to wander the halls! Sit in the mess for lunch! Or watch our children play and learn to their little heart’s content. Join the Innovationists, where the bounds of science are continuously pushed. Or join the Counselors of Playcare, whose diligence and care for our children will help shape a brighter future, just you see. Now, every one of you has your part in that future, so should you come back tomorrow feeling unhappy for where you are... worry not! For your supervisor is here and happy to listen! And...”

Just as the man gives a brief pause to what he’s saying, you watch as the image of Huggy changes to one of pure unadulterated horror. Huggy’s mouth has stretched to an unfathomable degree, sharp rows of teeth make their appearance, and his eyes are now black empty voids.

You feel sick to your stomach at the sight, your insides threaten to spill as you continue to watch in terror.

“...Should you come back... may you descend into the dark and the dust, finding all that awaits you are

incomprehensible horrors... each hungry for you, each eager that they might find you. Perhaps they’d smile at you from a shadow, their smiling mouths full of teeth and meat and plastic, watching and waiting for their turn...”

Just as those final words are uttered you watch as the image of Huggy Wuggy gets closer and closer to the screen until finally and seemingly out of nowhere, coming OUT of the screen, a giant yellow hand reaches out for you and before you’re able to yelp out pathetically, you’re engulfed in the maw of the beast.

The world fades to black as you feel your body finally give up on you...

The sounds of soft thuds encroaching on your unconscious form close in.

A curious paw nudges you, seeing no sign of resistance nor movement, a low chuckle is heard.

“A HERETIC CAN BE TOLERATED. BUT HERESY CANNOT.” They whisper in your ear.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Chapter 7: Remember kids! You can spell “School” without ‘cool’!

By the time you wake up, you find yourself in a completely different room and area than before. You’re no longer in the same maze of hallways as before, this time it looks like you’re deeper inside of Home Sweet Home. And though you KNOW you have no recollection of getting here, you know just who placed you here;

“CatNap”

You can’t help but cringe when you hear yourself say that name, that... creature, that THING, it’s toying with you. Trying to break you down until you’re nothing so it can devour you just like the others.

You know better than to let that beast win and let it get the best of you. You HAVE to keep going, and you WILL.

As you walk through the rest of Home Sweet Home, you solve an endless array of puzzles here and there and with the help of the newly acquired gas mask you can ensure yourself of further harm from the red mist.

All these puzzles serve only to help further you in your journey, granting you access to previously locked and blocked off areas. The grabpack continues to serve its purpose in aiding you to reach objects that are too far out of your grasp.

As you traverse the rooms, exploring the once abandoned bedrooms of the children you open a door that takes you to one of the hallways.

You watch in fear as CatNap himself walks right beside you, the only thing separating the two of you is some haphazardly placed furniture that blocks the path.

You swallow the scream that builds in your throat and quickly rush back into the room you were just in. In the distance you hear a mocking laugh alongside fading footsteps.

“Motherfucker...” you curse under your breath.

Continuing alongside the puzzles for a while longer, you ultimately find yourself at a dead end. As you go to turn around from the hallway, something tells you to look into the barricaded room behind you.

And so you do, cautiously peering in only to see none other than Kissy Missy! She’s sitting atop a bed, quiet as can be with what appears to be a picture frame in hand. Her eyes are glued to it... perhaps she’s... reminiscing memories of a friend? A past life full of peace?

It’s a sad sight and you say nothing, quietly turning around you bid farewell, it seems it’s be better to give them space.

You continue in Home Sweet Home, solving the last remaining puzzles until the main gate finally opens, granting you the ability to leave.

You sigh happily and as you open the door, stepping outside and away from that nightmare a large ‘hand’ grabs you from behind. You let out a frightened scream as you’re thrown down to the ground, you’re met face to face with Kissy Missy who eyes you with silent rage.

A low growl begins to emanate from her mouth and you brace yourself for death. “NO, NO! LET GO!”

Poppy! It’s Poppy! She’s alive!

“THEY DIDNT DO ANYTHING WRONG!!”

You turn your head over to look at her with a bewildered look, “Poppy! You’re... alive. Where... where have you been?”

Poppy shakes her head, “It’s... it’s a long story” is all she offers you, “We’re actually here to help-“ she says, gesturing towards Kissy Missy.

You watch as Kissy Missy finally lets you go and you sit up, “This place makes her tense...” Poppy comments, “I’m glad that Ollie could help you get this far. He’s the reason we found you at all! And it looks like the train crash hurt us both...”

You nod, finally standing to your feet.

“You’ve been through so much... you deserve an explanation. Come on.”

You follow the duo to a control panel nearby that Kissy Missy helps Poppy pry open and flip a red switch. Which in turn, turns on a nearby lift.

You three get on the lift.

“Look, I’m not your enemy but I can’t just let you leave. What’s happening down here is bigger than all of us. And I NEED you... so we can get REVENGE on those monsters whose tortured you... who’ve tortured US. They didn’t act alone, they’re disciples of the original, ‘The Prototype’.”

Suddenly you’re reminded of various pieces of information and hidden tapes you saw mentioning the thing, you shudder at the thought.

When you reach the top, the little elevator gives pause, Poppy motions for you to press a button nearby and you do, hopping back on, the elevator descends.

“The Prototype knows were coming by now, you try to escape, he’ll kill you before you ever reach that front door. He’s the reason I was trapped in that...” Poppy stops speaking for a moment, you watch as she visibly shudders.

It seems that you’re not the only one traumatized here.

“... god awful case for so long! You have... no idea the things he’s done! Let me help you kill him. Let

me help you save everyone. We’ve ALL seen how capable you are. You killed Huggy, you killed Mommy, you saved me. You are PERFECT for this. CatNap is coming, he’s a final obstacle that The Prototype has placed against us. We can’t stay here. Keep yourself safe... Ollie will call you.”

As you step off the elevator and watch it ascend one last time, you nod at Poppy and watch as she smiles back.

“Be safe...!” You call out. Poppy chuckles, “You too!”

And just as Poppy told you, your phone rings, with Ollie on the other end;

“Hey, hey! It's me! It seems like Poppy explained everything now. And she turned on the dome’s back up power! Now the plan from here is pretty simple- we need to restore power to the gas production zone. First, go back to the home Sweet Home building you were just in. You should be able to find a big power cord somewhere around the porch. Grab it and plug it in underneath the statue.”

You do as you're told and descend the statue’s staircase to connect the power to the machine below.

“Awesome! Look at that! Remember that generator you turned on inside of Home Sweet Home? Well, that was the backup generator for just that building. And every building should have one. Now you’ve just taken home. Sweet home backup power and routed it here. We’re already halfway done! Hmmmm, but where to go next... everywhere is pretty dangerous around here. That Playhouse especially! So... your best bet is probably the school. CatNap usually leaves that area alone. I’ll send you the key now!”

With the key in hand, you make your way over to the building labeled “School”. Upon walking in you take note of the dank and rank odor filling the air, which makes you wretch.

“Okay! Let’s make this quick! Turn on the generator, leave, and plug the school’s power cord into the center. Be careful in there, I don’t think I can connect to you on that side of the dome. And you won’t be alone. There’s someone else in there too. They’re not your-“

The rest of Ollie’s warning fades into static, it seems that the connection has been lost. Now, you truly are alone.

What new horrors await you in this hell?

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Chapter 8: Red light, Green light.

You hear static come from the speakers located inside of the room you’re currently in and turn to face them;

“This is Miss Delight speaking. Please excuse the interruption! Students- remain in your seats until the bell has rung. And no going in the halls without a hall pass!!

You speculate that what you just heard is most likely nothing more than an automated system that must’ve broken down some time above and has likely been playing the same message.

When the static cuts off, you give a soft sigh and continue meandering about the school, going from classroom to classroom, exploring the abandoned areas.

A part of you hopes that you’ll find something of value hidden within but so far, you’ve come up empty handed. Save for one class rol. That catches your attention, it seems that one corner was seemingly sectioned off with the use of furniture.

“...Odd...” you comment, “who the hell would possibly want to camp out here...?”

Approaching the area you notice a bed covered in dried blood and viscera, and all around you are broken and bloodied toys, all very clearly deceased, it’s quite a sight for sore eyes.

You honestly don’t want to keep looking at it for any longer as you feel more nauseous the longer you do.

Moving on, you hope that you’ll find something else to look at.

You unlock an electric door using the green grabpack hand and continue in the new unlocked direction.

Exploring the rooms a bit, you discover that one of them contains a power source, it currently requires two batteries- one of which is out of reach.

With some minor searching you find one battery which you plug in and leaves you to search in the opposite side of the School.

Crawling under the debris of a blocked off area you witness the sight of something- toy? Human? You can’t quite tell- passing by just down the hallway.

You clasp a hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle a gasp from escaping.

You stay still for a moment, waiting to see if you hear any more movement but when none greet your ears, you decide that it must be safe to continue.

As you open the next door, the same PA system comes back on with feedback static;

“Wait...” it’s that voice again, “I don’t recognize you...”

You swallow and stop in your tracks, your eyes are fixated on the camera hidden just barely out of sight

in the corner of the room.

“You don’t work here. How are you-... alive?” She asks

And honestly? You don’t have the slightest clue.

“Dumb luck, probably...” you mumble, eyeing the room, it looks to be no different from a computer lab

that you’d see back in highschool.

“Hm? Barb? Oh... Barb says you’re probably just trespassing...! CatNap wouldn’t like that you’re

here... you should consider leaving... for your own safety.”

The PA cuts off into static and you nod, “Yeah, that’s uh, that’s exactly what I’ve been TRYING to

do...!” You complain to no one but yourself.

As you look around the room, you take note of a ventilation shaft, it seems that this one connects to that previous room where the battery had been lodged. You use the grabpack to hold onto a bar that’s’ situated above you with one hand as leverage to go down.

As soon as you get down, you use the other hand of the grabpack to hold onto the battery and make your way back up and through the vent system. Only to end up on the other side, in the same room where the power system was in and place the final batter.

Doing so, allows you to electrically charge the green grabpack hand and make your way into the next area.

In one of the new rooms you entered, there appears to be a note left on the floor, you take it and read it;

{“Just a few weeks ago now was THE HOUR OF JOY. today, there’s only silence in the school. I don’t think any of us here know what to do with it. The hallways without the children carry even the smallest sounds as if they were shouts. The other teachers and I started each other constantly we have to get used to it. Something locked the front door this morning and we haven’t been able to open it.”

You hum softly to yourself as you finish reading the note;

“Seems like something big went down- ‘The Hour of Joy’- whatever that means, I’ve been seeing it everywhere...” you squint and re-read the last part over again.

“CatNap?” You snort, rolling your eyes, “Who else? Knowing him and how much he likes to play with his food, I don’t doubt it.”

As you go to pocket the note, you notice another one nearby that you likely missed when first walking in.

{“The put in me howls for FOOD. I CAN’’T THINK About anything other than how HUNGRY I AM. HARDLY HAVE THE STRENGTH TO PICK MYSELF OFF THE FLOOR. Barb speaks to me though. SHE GIVES ME STRENGTH. i’ve found that if I stand still, COMPLETELY STILL, Everyone thinks I’m DEAD. BARB Says I need to EAT, AND THAT THE OTHER TEACHERS would never see me coming. ANYTHING TO STOP THE HOWLING.”}

The bloody note gives you reason for concern and you can’t help but stop and look up, turning around slowly to see if anyone’s watching you.

You shouldn’t be here.

You should leave.

You pocket the note and move on.

You walk into another room and traverse another ventilation shaft as the area ahead of you is blocked off.

As you move through the small cramped space, you notice- through a hole below you- that THING walking by again and catch a glimpse of red and white polka dot dress and blonde hair.

You drop down into the following room, past that thing you just saw.

The PA turns on once again;

“You’re not a good listener, are you? You’re a lot like the other humans in that way. I wonder your

screams will sound like theirs too...!” There’s a chuckle, “Mmmmm... I look forward to finding out~!”

You feel a chill run down your back but shake it off, trudging on forwards regardless of the threat made against your life.

You enter an adjacent room and explore some more, only to find yet another note and this one- at first glance- looks two be much shorter than the first two you found;

{“I’M SO SORRY, I HAD TO EAT. I HAD TO SURVIVE. I ATE THEM. I HAD TO I HAD TO I HAD TO I HAD TO”}

You don’t say anything after reading that, I mean... how can you? WHAT can you? You simply pocket the note and move on.

“This place has made monsters out of all of you, hasn’t it...?”

The following area in nothing more than another class room, you walk past the cardboard cut out of what looks to be the figure you’ve been seeing walking about the place.

“Miss Delight... huh...”

You don’t give it any more attention and open the final door, and there it is! The backup generator! Completing one final puzzle causes what little light was left inside the school to die out momentarily and

in doing so, emerges Miss Delight.

A wicked toothful grin sports her face, with half her ‘skin’ peeled off you can see the flesh and sinew that holds her together. And in one hand is what appears to be a makeshift mace, under the orange emergency lights it’s hard to tell just WHAT they’re made out of but you swear you can just barely make out what appears to be pencils.

White beady eyes stare back at you.

She is unmoving, simply staring, frozen like a statue before your gaze.

What follows next is nothing short of a game of “Red light, Green Light”. Look at her and she stops dead in her tracks, look away? And she’s free to move.

You can’t let her out of your sight, even for a moment as you retrace your steps back the way you came.

Her ragged breaths and mocking laughter fill the air, always telling you of where she is at all times, and due to her innate lack of ‘lips’ you’re thankful for that fact.

Every twist and turn, every time you’re forced to look away at her to face a battery wall socket or obstacle to maneuver around, sends you blood pressure skyrocketing.

That is until you’re given a brief moment of respite, but you don’t DARE to dilly dally, you KNOW death lingers just beyond the corner. And so you pursue onwards, despite the drumming in your chest.

You fiddle with this odd battery puzzle in front of you, it’s infuriating and confusing at times, but you manage.

Finally unlocking the main gate you sprint at full speed down the hallway, not caring to watch Miss Delight anymore. And something tells you that she’s not going to give you up and allow you to escape that easily.

With her footsteps quickly approaching you from behind, you rush into the small room and yank the lever down as hard as you can and watch as Miss Delight tries to slide down to catch up to you but the door was faster, crushing her skull in the process.

You stand there in quiet shock, catching your breath as you stare at her corpse, WAITING for her to move again.

You stare.

And you stare.

But she doesn’t move, breathing a sigh of relief you turn to leave but stop yourself midway.

A sudden and curious thought crosses your mind, ‘when was the last time that you were clean and not covered in blood and viscera?’

You stop and look down at yourself, you examine your shirt, and just as you go to grab it, you stop, noting the fresh coat of blood that now permeates and has soaked itself through the fabric of your one’s favorite shirt.

You click your tongue in and sigh through your nose, “It’s all right-“ you groan, “-when I get out of here, I’ll-“

Wait a moment.

WHEN you get out of here?

You turned to look back down at Miss Delight, for all you know, a month could’ve passed by since you

first got in here. That much time has already passed, it’s going to be a while until you finally get to leave, let alone find a clean pair of clothing.

You bend down to the corpse of Miss Delight and begin to pull off her red and white polkadot skirt. “ I’m so sorry” is all you whisper.

As a respect to her, you advert your eyes, and turn away. The skirt of Miss Delight is luckily, not soaked in blood that you find yourself that it may be useful to use to perhaps fashion a shirt for yourself.

“I guess you teaching me sewing all those years back, finally did come in handy, huh mom?” You mumbled to no one but yourself.

You leave the school, triumphant, and with a smile on your lips.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Chapter 9: Tired of the senseless slaughter, you save his life. And in return, HE saves YOURS.

—

IMPORTANT: For the best experience during the chase scene, please listen to the following song: “Ride to Glory by Epic Score”

As you leave the school, humming a tune to yourself, you notice something fall out from the red- and-white polka dot skirt. You give pause pause and bend down to reach for it with one hand, it’s a piece of paper.

“Another note?”

You read it;

{“The door opened today, and I heard something enter my hall. Together, Barb and I found CatNap

waiting. AL THIS TIME, ALL THIS AGONY. It was he WHO LOCKED THE DOOR, and I know it. I wanted to KILL HIM, but I knew better than to believe I could. he seemed oddly glad to see I was all that remained. We made a deal to take care of each other from now on what we see to the other, and to HIM.”}

You folded the piece of paper and pocketed it in your back pocket, “I guess I was right” you paused briefly, “I’m so sorry this happened to you...” you spoke solemnly, your gaze was cast downwards onto the fabric, you thumbed it gently before ultimately sighing and moving forward.

You can mourn later, not now.

As you left the hall and entered what looked to be a dead end, you took notice of the new apparatus that sat behind the Hoppy Hopscotch cardboard cut out. A red grabpack hand! How odd..

You attached the new hand and looked at it curiously; the hand had taken the pose of a ‘gun’ with the ring and pinkie finger curled inwards towards the palm and the middle and pointer finger serving as the ‘barrel’.

You took notice of the hole that lay in the middle finger and thought to yourself for a moment, there’s no way that they actually gave ‘guns’ to kids... right?

Cautiously you take a step back and turn back around to the dark hallway you just back back from and fired a shot down range.

What came out from the red hand was a bright shimmering light that you swore was hot for a brief moment as it whizzed beyond you and down the hall.

As it made contact with the ground, it lit up the surrounding area in a blood red light.

“Ah! A flare gun!” You smiled, excited at the new discovery. “This’ll come in handy.” Nodding and feeling satisfied with your new discovery, you made the rest of the way out of the

immediate area only to pause after you cross the threshold of the doorframe behind you.

You’re stunned into silence as you realize that you’re inside of a cavern. The area is MASSIVE and as you bend slightly, looking over the daunting edge of the cliff side you stand on, you can see a that there’s a lot of jumping platforms that require you to use the purple hand.

It’s... not your favorite mode of transportation, given that you’re situated over the maw of an endless cavern but, beggars can't be choosers.

You steel your nerves and cross the entire area, swinging up in the air and feeling the cool damp air of the cavern against your skin as you breeze by.

Eventually you reach an area that requires you to solve a large puzzle using a combination of the purple and blue hand to unlock an elevator that allows you to traverse to the next area. Of which, by the time you’re done solving it, you now have to traverse a very precarious catwalk, where parts of it have fallen into disarray and broken down.

As you walk in by, something in the darkness catches your eye and so you turn to face and look at it, due to the darkness, it’s quite hard to see and make out. Just as you attempt to fire a flare in the direction of the mass obscured by shadows, you’re stopped from doing so when you hear the catwalk beneath your feet creak and begin to give way.

In a panic you print the rest if the way and make a leap of faith, just barely avoiding death as the catwalk collapses behind you.

You’re much farther away now than before and whatever it was that you were looking at, would be near impossible to see from this angle so you pursue onwards.

As you cross the rest of the catwalk, in front of you is a metallic door with the logo ‘PLAYHOUSE’ above it. As soon as you enter, you find that the entire place has been shrouded in darkness with only some light sources working- barely- and giving you some brightness to work with.

It looks like the flare gun will be your safest bet to traverse this expanse.

As you move around, you find that you’re being stalked by toys that look just like that of the ‘smiling critters’, the same ones that you’ve been seeing on posters around Playtime Co.

Their weird little laughs and cries cause goosebumps to rise all over your arms, they're incredibly off putting and relentless in their chase.

You maneuver and meander around, going through tubes and a plush maze, firing flares as you go to frighten away the little beasts from you. It’s incredibly claustrophobic and you find that you want to leave this area as soon as you can, so you move quickly.

Keeping an eye out for their glowing beady eyes and an ear for their little sounds that key you in on their locations.

You thank your stars when you finally leave that room, sighing in relief as you go down a winding staircase and into a... pool room!

“Weird place to have pool parties...” you comment, before moving on.

As you open the door following the pool area, you’re met with what looks to be a room filled with cellars, each one adorned with hanging chains. Most likely used on the toys that would’ve inhabited this area.

Just as you’re about to ask yourself just WHAT toy could possibly warrant being chained up in a cellar,

your ears are greeted by the sound of a ragged cough nearby.

The sound nearly makes you jump out of your skin, but you steel yourself, preparing for the worst as you

follow the source.

And as you wind the corner, you find your answer to your questions.

A large canine, colored in orange and yellow ochre fur is hanged in his cellar by chains that are connected to the wall, they’re restricting both of his arms. He’s missing his lower half, the bottom of his cell is coated in dried blood, and on his waist is a belt buckle that is secured tightly so as to prevent him from dying of blood loss.

With the pose that he’s in, he looks akin to that of Jesus Christ when he was being crucified by the Romans on the cross.

You gasp in shock at the sight, reeling away slightly in horror at the sight.

“What... what happened to you?” You ask it, half wondering if you’ll get a response.

You watch as the dog lifts its head and as it does so, on its neck you notice its collar and on it is a plastic

tag of a large bright sun.

it finally clicks to you who this is.

“DogDay?” You tentatively call out.

You watch as he silently stares at you for a moment, and though you don’t see any pupils beneath that

darkness, you still feel the weight on his gaze on you.

“You... you’re Poppy’s angel...” he croaks out, voice tired and hoarse. “Come to save us-!” He pauses,

his head hanging low for a moment as he turns to look away from you. He shakes his head solemnly, “Nothing left to save, not here...”

He turns to look at you once more, “You’re in CatNap’s home, angel. THEIR home. A million pairs of eyes are on you now. Watching, waiting, hungry. They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin and eat away you bit by little bit-“

You watch him groan in pain as he attempts to shift, the shackles holding him in place are likely digging into his wrists.

“-fill what feels empty inside themselves. That... thing...CatNap. The Prototype is his God, and this is what he does to heretics. These little toys follow CatNap to avoid that very fate- and in return, they are fed.” Another painted groan escapes his lips, but that doesn’t stop him from explaining to you what has been

going in in the facility.

“ we tried to fight it, The Prototype’s control. I’m... the last of the Smiling Critters.”

There’s a brief moment of silence where the sadness within his voice becomes palpable to you, it makes

your heart ache that he’s suffered so much at the hands of that wretched beast- CatNap.

“Listen to me-“ he pleads, lifting his head up all the way now, trying to make as best eye contact as he

can with you, “-you NEED to get out of this place. You NEED to LIVE! You and Poppy can fix this, end this madness, the torment, the- Oh no... OH NO!”

You take a step back, shocked at the sudden change and turn to look just where his head is facing, from the bottom of his cell block, you watch as little beady white eyes begin to emerge from the large holes within the walls.

Instinctively, you fire a shot at it and manage to frighten the miniature critters.

You watch as DogDay turns to face you, “Leave me, please! Just go!... RUN!!” He urges you.

“You have to survive, Angel, you HAVE to. GO! GET OUT OF HERE!!”

You shake your head, “No, not again, I’m done with this-“ you tell him, firing yet another shot at the

little holes, frighting more of the critters away. “-I’ve had enough of seeing such senseless slaughter-“ You use the grabpack hands and grab simultaneously at both his chains and PULL!!

The chains SNAP with a loud crack, metal breaks and clangs, falling onto the floor loudly.

Just as DogDay is about to fall and hit the ground, you catch him as best you can with your arms.

“-HOLD ON!!”

You spare no second glance behind you as you run with DogDay, the poor canine clings onto you with what little strength remains within him.

The two of you fall through broken floor boards and rush through a large system of tunnels, with every twist and turn you hear the beasts behind you gaining ground.

The critters climb atop one another, moving together like a wave of water, a mass of cloth and fabric ready to pry and tare away at flesh.

But you won't let them win. Not this time.

As you traverse the tunnels, running with all your strength, behind you, DogDay turns his head to see if your pursuers have made any ground and feel his grip tighten.

“ITS OKAY-“ you try to comfort him, “-JUST HOLD ON!” “THEYRE GAINING ON US, ANGEL. WE WONT MAKE IT-“ “-YES WE WILL!!”

“SLIDE!!” You announce, “DUCK!!”

DogDay ducks with you, avoiding the lip of the ceiling.

You two slide down with such speed that it nearly launches you in such a way that you almost trip over

your own two feet but manage you catch yourself just in time.

You run down a small hall and towards a room that has a purple hand platform at its end.

“ANGEL, THE HAND!! SWAP HANDS!!”

“GOT IT!!”

You press a button and watch as the grabpack switches it’s green hand with the purple hand, and just in

time too.

As the wave of mini critters closes in.

You take the leap of faith.

And for a moment, time slows down to a crawl.

You’re both airborne for what seems forever, until you finally make contact with the ground.

And when you do, frantically get on the elevator and mash the button for it to lift you up. “COME ON, COME ON, COME ON, COME ON-!!”

You’re desperate, your hands are trembling.

As the machine slowly takes you to the platform above, from bellow you you watch as the critters

desperately climb atop one another to get at the two of you.

Once at the top, you feel DogDay tap your shoulder, “LEFT SIDE, SLIDE!! NOW!!”

You run, making a mad dash and duck, throwing your body into the slide, DogDay ducks with your

movements and holds on for dear life as you two slide down the enormous slide.

As you descend, you hear the slide creak, bend and shake under the weight of both of you. “Of fuck-!!” You shout as the slide gives way under your combined weight.

And so, the two of you fall..

And fall...

Eventually you two land somewhere entirely new, but you’re not able to make out just where you are just yet, because when you finally descend, you two are flung with such great force that you both make contact with the wall. Leaving a small crater in its wake to the sheer force of the impact.

Thankfully though, your blow is cushioned by DogDay who, by some holy miracle, manages to place himself between you and the wall when you two were free falling.

You’re cradled by his arms as the two you fall harshly to the ground.

Groans are heard from both of you as you watch the tunnel that was created from the collapsed slide, come crumbling down on itself and create a massive cave in. Rubble descends down the hole following the two of you, eventually covering the entire tunnel itself.

Silence fills the air as the two of you lay there, you feel your consciousness slip from you, your vision going dark. Perhaps you had hit yourself a bit harder than anticipated on your way down.

“Angel? ANGEL!” DogDay shouts, desperation clings to his every word, “Stay with me, angel, stay with me!!”

Your vision goes black as darkness embraces you with open arms...

Chapter 10 (http://archiveofourown.org/works/53562580/chapters/135645178) : Respite Summary:

You and DogDay find some much needed respite after all the chaos you two had to endure.

{You find yourself sitting comfortably on the porch of your cottage home, a cool strawberry drink sits snugly in the palm of your hands. A cool summer breeze blows by, caressing your face, and with it brings promises of a better and brighter future...

Or so you thought...

“Mom?” You looked over to the beautiful female figure sat next to you, her face was crystal clear in your mind, even now. After all this time, you could still picture her, she looked the same as she did all those years ago.

“Do you really have to go? Can’t you call in sick?” You asked her, leaning into her touch as her hand caressed your cheek gently, “Please, mom-“ you whined, begging her to stay.

The woman looked down upon you with a gentle and loving smile that only a mother could bestow upon her child.

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“-don’t go...” you whined pitifully.

you watched as she leaned down close to you, gently she pressed her lips to your forehead before smiling

at you once more. “My sweet little Angel, don’t worry, I promise your father and I won’t be gone long. It’s only a work trip!”

You felt tears fall down your cheeks. Every night, it was always the same. The same dream.

Each.

And every.

Night.

No matter how much you begged and cried, she always left you.

“I’ll be back before you know it~!” She spoke, gently booping your nose with her finger.}

“M-...Mo..m...n-..no...” you groaned quietly.

As you slowly came to your senses you could hear a familiar male voice.

“Angel?! Oh-!” A gasp left his lips, “-Angel,darling- wake up... please, wake up...”

You felt yourself slowly being stirred back into reality, gentle hands shaking you and rubbing at your back in an attempt at rousing you awake.

Slowly, you blinked away the fog in your eyes and watched as the world around you slowly came into focus.

Your eyes finally focused onto the figure in front of you, DogDay.

The poor canine had been worried sick, he was curled up as close as he could- given the state of his body- to be next to you. Gentle hands wiped at your cheeks that were damp with tears.

“You were crying, Angel...” he explained, he kept his voice low so as to not startle you after you’d awaken.

“Are you alright? You were crying out for your mother...”

You stare at him dumbfounded and open your mouth to reply but bite back your response, only offering a look of concern in return to his own.

DogDay nods, seemingly understanding what you’re conveying, “Apologies, Angel. I... may have been too forward, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s not my right to know something so intimate.”

You shake your head, “I-It’s alright, you were only curious... it’s natural...”

As you two continue to lay there, you share a moment of silence between the two of you, where one of his lands lies comfortably atop your own.

“Angel?”

Suddenly, he breaks the silence.

“May I-“ there’s a pause, “Am I allowed a question?”

You nod, “of course.”

“Why did you save me?”

You pause and allow silence to fill the void for a moment, your eyes wandering as you think, until you

meet his gaze once more.

“I think EVERYONE deserves to live-“ you answer him, “- I’m tired of seeing all this death around

me...” you pause briefly, taking in a deep breathe. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

He can’t help but chuckle at your response. “What?” You ask, “what’s so funny?”

He sighs, “You really are an angel sent from above to save us, huh...?”

You smile, cracking the first genuine laugh you’ve had in a long while, “Yeah, I guess so...”

You watch as DogDay slowly pulls away from you for a minute and aids you as best he can from his current position on the ground with one hand to help you get up from the floor.

You take his hand and slowly bring yourself up from the floor and stand up, you examine the grabpack and notice some minor damages to the equipment. Thankfully it appears to be nothing serious, just a few loose parts that need to be screwed on tighter.

“I think we should probably get some rest...” you add, examining your new surroundings. You’re in what appears to be the offices of Playtime Co.

“This place looks safe enough...” you watch as DogDay tries to do the same and examine his

surroundings, he too notes that the offices look relatively safe compared to the rest of PLAYCARE. Suddenly, a ringing catches you both by surprise and makes you jump nearly out of your skin. “What was that?!” DogDay asks, confused at the new noise.

“Ollie!”

“Who-?”

Before you could answer DogDay’s question, you reach for your phone which somehow managed to

survive the fall.

“Hey, are you alright?! No ouchies or lost body parts?”

On the other side of the Playtime Co. cellphone is what sounds to be a young boy’s voice, aged roughly

that of a child’s. It catches DogDay by surprise when he hears it.

At Ollie’s last comment, you look towards DogDay and frown slightly, “I’m alright-“ you speak into the

receiver, “-But... I can’t say the same for my friend.”

“Friend? Who's your new friend?”

“It’s DogDay” you reply, “here-“ you hand the phone to DogDay.

“Hello? Whose this?”

“Hey DogDay! My names Ollie! I’ve been helping Poppy, Y/N and Kissy Missy escape PLAYCARE.

I’m glad you’re getting along well with Y/N!” You hear Ollie speak to DogDay, seemingly getting him up to speed on the situation.

You watch as DogDay hums in response, “Thank you Ollie, for guiding angel along, you’ve done well in helping them...”

“Angel? Whose angel?”

You watch as DogDay seemingly stumbles over himself and his words for a moment, you can’t help but smile. If he could, you’d suspect he’d be blushing right about now from embarrassment.

“Y/N-! I-I’m referring to Y/N...!”

You hear Ollie laugh on the other end, “Oh! That makes sense!”

“Anyways-“ Ollie continues, “I’m really glad you’re both okay... I don’t wanna lose any more friends to

this place. We’re really close to the end! By the way, where are you two now?”

“In what appears to be a room full of offices...” DogDay adds, with some of your help, he finds himself

resting in your arms. Your surprised by how much he weighs and how you’re able to carry him with just enough effort, despite his size.

You’ve helped him see further into the halls of the area you’re in, down the hall, as far as the eye can see are nothing more than offices.

“Ah! I see. You two must be in the Counselor’s Office. Hmmm... it’s not ideal, but, If you two can manage to find that generator and get it going, it should have enough juice to power the Gas Production Zone and finally re-route that red smoke! Good luck you two, stay safe out there!”

And with that, the line goes dead.

You sigh and look to DogDay, he nods at you and the two of you move forward.

“Angel?” He asks

“Yes?”

“I’ll take you up on that offer to rest...” he comments, “That fall... it did a number on me and likely on

yourself as well. It’s paramount we get some much needed respite, gather your energy for what’s yet to come.”

You nod, he does have a point.

And so, you walk a little bit longer until you spot an office room that looks relatively clean in comparison to the others, save for all the scattered papers, it’s better than nothing.

You set DogDay down on the office chair and turn to step out of the room momentarily. “Wait, where are you going?” He asks you.

“I spotted a blanket on one of the offices, don’t worry, I’ll be right back!”

You didn’t go too far to find the blanket and when you did, true to your word, you returned.

You placed the oversized blanket down on the ground and picked up DogDay once more, before setting him down on the blanket.

“There... that should be better than being on the cold floor...” you paused, “Well... not really but-“ DogDay can’t help but laugh, “It’s alright, Angel, it’s the sentiment that counts...”

You smile and nod, joining your companion’s side as you sit next to him. You take off the grabpack and

begin trying to fix it as DogDay watches on.

“Angel? Do you mind me asking you something?”

You shake your head, “No, I don’t mind, what is it?”

“I... don’t think I recall seeing you work here... were you an employee?”

You shake your head, “No, not me, but my mom and dad were...” you explain, “They went missing in

08/08/1998... roughly ten years ago.”

“The hour of Joy...” you hear him mutter softly to himself.

There it is again, that phrase again.

What could it mean...?

“So, I take it you’re here searching for them, no?” He asks

You nod, “I am... why? Does that make me crazy?”

He shakes his head, “No... I don’t think it does... but-“ he pauses.

“But?” You egg on.

“But you ARE crazy for making it this far, Angel.” He watches for your expression carefully. “My

apologies”

You snort, “for what? You’re right.”

Silence hangs for a moment as the conversation dies down for a moment, you’re quick at work on the grabpack, finding yourself almost finished with the much needed repairs.

“You’re a mechanic?” He asks

“Hardly-“ you add, “-I only know what I know about machines thanks to my dad...”

“Who was your father? I-If you don’t mind me asking?”

“No worries- He was a technician for Playtime Co., he spent most of his time fixing electrical issues and

doing tech support for the machines and computers that broke down.”

“And what of your mother?”

“Mom?” You pause, “Mom told me she helped take care of the orphans in Playtime, the most she would

ever tell me was that she was directly responsible for making sure that they were always happy and healthy.” DogDay nods, soaking in the information as you speak to him.

“They sound like good people”

“And they were...” you pause, “...I miss them...”

DogDay cringes inwardly slightly, “I-I’m sorry Angel, I didn’t mean to upset you.” You shake your head, sighing deeply, “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

There’s another beat of silence before this time, YOU break it.

“And what about you?” You ask him

“Pardon?”

“We’re you always known as ‘DogDay’? Or were you someone else...?” You ask, taking notice of his

hesitance you add in, “I read about this thing called the “Bigger Bodies Initiative” and- from what I’ve gathered- it seems that... somehow... they used people and turned them into... toys.”

You hardly believed your own words, but the evidence was all there in the scraps of important documents you had collected, and that sort of evidence is hard to deny.

You watch as DogDay nods, “I was- am.” He corrects, “My real name is Oskar, Oskar Sonnen.”

You pause, your hands stilling for a moment at the mention of his name.

“That’s German” you add, surprised. “You’re German?”

He chuckles, “No, but I am descended from Germans, I’m American, born and raised. Why do you ask

Angel?”

“Well, your name literally means ‘dear sunny friend’ or ‘dear friend of sunshine’-“ you chuckle, your

smile widening, “-incredibly fitting for someone whose named ‘DogDay’”

You watch as he nods and chuckles alongside you, “You’re quite the keen observer, Angel.”

You nod, and you’re finally compete with the grabpack, finally setting it down on the ground beside you. You watch as DogDay stretches and yawns, he tries to make himself as comfortable as he can.

“Am I still allowed to call you DogDay, though? Or do you prefer Oskar?”

You watch as he seems to take a moment to consider your proposal before replying, “I’ll answer

regardless of whatever you decide to call me by, Angel.”

You nod, “DogDay it is then-“ you smile warmly at the canid, “-it suits you the most, after all...” you

gently boop his nose with your finger and watch as he chuckled, his whole body shaking in response to the wave of happiness.

“Thank you, my dear” You smile.

“Oh!” You jump up, suddenly remembering what else you wanted to ask him, “One last question?” “Anything for you, Angel, you deserve as much.”

“Where you an employee of Playtime Co. like my parents? A technician? A doctor?”

He shook his head, “No, not quite, I was... a low-level researcher during my time here...” he recalls,

“Pardon my memory, Angel, but I can hardly recall that era of my life. All I can offer you in response was that I helped the children in the Play area... that’s as far as my memory goes. Again, my deepest apologies.”

You shake your head, “It’s okay, I don’t expect you to recall everything that happened to you...”

You yawn and stretch, and watch as DogDay does the same.

“It appears that rest is in order...” he states, “Come now, Angel. You must regain your energy-“ he says, patting the space in front of him.

You nod, making your way over to him, you decide to give him ample space to himself , but watch as his arm lazily droops over your waist, holding you there.

“-I sense that we’ll need all the energy we can muster for what’s to come next.”

You hum in agreement and sigh, grateful for this moment of respite to finally gather your energy and your bearings.

Despite laying down with DogDay on the hard wooden floor over a less than comfortable blanket, you find that you’re not as tired as you imagined.

No amount of counting sheep and thinking of stories within your head help to lull you into the warm embrace of sleep.

Your eyes pan over to DogDay and watch him, he’s still as can be safe for the slow rising and falling of

his chest.

He’s sound asleep.

Good, you know he needs it more than anyone.

Suddenly! An idea crosses your mind;If you’re GOING to defeat CatNap and put an end to this once and for all, you know deep down inside that with the current state that he’s in, DogDay won’t survive not even one minute next to the feline.

You HAVE to do something about it.

That’s when your brain reminds you of the red-and-white polka dot skirt you took from Miss Delight’s corpse.

You wager that if you can scour the remnants of these offices, you’ll probably find just enough fabric scraps to not only patch up DogDay, but hopefully gift him with new legs.

Determined to have this happen, you slowly and carefully pry yourself from DogDay’s warm embrace, you don’t want to rouse him awake. He NEEDS to rest.

Once freed, you slowly make your way out of the room, creeping along just quietly enough to not make as much noise as you can.

As you leave, you close the door behind you and slink off...

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Chapter 11: DogDay awakens to you missing.

Something feels wrong.

DogDay finds himself being roused by sleep’s warm embrace by none other than his own body.

He blinks a few times, removing the haze from his eyes. When they finally adjusts he notices the empty

space in front of him.

He feels his heart sink.

“Angel?” He half whispers, begging the stars above that you’re just behind him, distracted by the clutter

of papers.

With great effort, he gets himself to turn over and when he doesn’t see your form, a pang of terror

overwhelms him.

All he can think of is CatNap.

CatNap.

That FUCKER.

Rage bubbles inside of him.

Did he take you away from him when the two of you were resting? Did he stalk the two of you and

waited to strike when a moment of weakness- of calmness, had finally befallen the two of you? How very typical of him.

That fucking cat.

Nay- that DEMON.

That THING wasn’t CatNap, it wasn’t his friend anymore, whatever that thing was, it needed to be

defeated. And to be rid of this world.

Feeling the fear rise inside of him, DogDay couldn’t control himself anymore and began calling out for you, desperately praying that you weren’t that far from him.

“ANGEL?!”

That you were still alive. “ANGEL!!”

DogDay began crawling for the door, pulling himself forward with the use of his arms with what little strength he had left inside of him.

Just as he reached the door, extending an arm for the door knob, the door swung open.

And there you stood. You were safe.

“Oh thank God” DogDay sighed, as a wave of relief washed over him. “DogDay-“ you start, “Are you okay, I-“

You watch as his demeanor shifts from that of relief to anger.

“Where the HELL did you go, Angel?!”

“I-“

Wait, no... it wasn’t anger.

“Do you have ANY IDEA how dangerous what you just did?!” He was afraid.

Afraid of losing YOU.

You bite your lower lip and turn to look away from his gaze, your eyes are cast downward. He’s right, you know.

What you did WAS- no, IS incredibly dangerous.

CatNap could’ve found you and taken you, and DogDay would’ve been none the wiser.

You step inside the room and close the door behind you, making sure to lock it as you do so for safety’s sake.

As you step inside, DogDay is finally able to take note of what you’re doing; on your hands are what appear to be various scraps of fabric and cloth, all in various colors and varying in the materials that they were made from.

It finally clicks for him what you were doing.

You were searching for materials to repair him with.

“I’m sorry”

You turn your head to face him.

“I-I’m sorry, Angel, I-I shouldn’t have- I-“

You set the materials aside and kneel down to hug DogDay, pulling him into your embrace.

“No, I’M sorry...” you correct him, “I should’ve told you before you went to sleep.”

DogDay gives you a loving squeeze as you hug him, “Still, that doesn’t warrant me, yelling at you. I’m

so sorry. Truly.”

You chuckle slightly but shake your head, “No, I think it’s warranted.”

You carefully pull away and help DogDay back on the blanket and move towards the desk where you’d set the materials down before sitting besides him.

“This was the best I could do-“ you explained, displaying to him all of the fabric and cloth pieces you found in a neatly arranged pile before him: most were scraps you’d manage to tear off from the covers of the desk chairs with the help of a knife, the rest were just an array of cloth from curtains used for the faux windows or extra company clothes that were in storage.

“Oh! And I also managed to get this too-“ you pulled towards you the red-and-white polka dot fabric that had now taken on the shape of a sack, it was holding something inside it.

Upon opening it, out spilled a hefty sized pile of cotton and pieces of foam.

“I got it from the office chairs, it’ll help me reconstruct your legs.”

DogDay nodded, eyeing the wide array of fabric closely before turning to you. “But... you don’t have any twine or or even string, how do you-?”

“-funny that you mentioned that-“ you stopped him, pulling out a small basket of sewing supplies, “-it looks like one of the employees here was a hobbyist sewer.”

Opening the container you showcased all of the supplies available to you; measuring take, seam ripper, tailors chalk, hand sewing needles, pins and pincushion as well as multiple spools of thread.

DogDay hums and nods, “I suppose you were quite lucky, Angel.” “Absolutely” you agreed.

“Now, let’s get this started-“ you began, “-let’s make sure you’re comfortable before I start-“ as you say that, you finally slip off the sweater that you had tied onto your waist. It was a miracle that the thing was still intact after going through so much.

Folding it, you placed it under his head as a makeshift pillow. “Better?” You asked him.

“Oh, Angel-“ he gasped slightly, surprised. “-you don’t have t-“ “Better?” You echoed.

He nodded, “Better”

“Good” you smiled warmly and moved back into position, sitting in front of his open lower half.

It was incredibly jarring to you that you could just see inside of him like that, especially being able to see

what you assumed to be the sack that was likely holding his insides together.

Shaking off the worry that crept into you, you willed yourself to continue. You got this.

DogDay remained quiet as you worked on sewing him up, his eyes were focused mainly on how your nimble and graceful fingers gilded about.

You grabbed the fabric that was harvested from the office chairs since the material was the strongest and used that to reinforce the now sewn shut lower half. This piece of fabric was placed atop that area and sewn over.

As you worked, you found yourself humming the same song that your mother would sing to you since you were a baby: “♩♩♩ ♭♭♩♩♩♭♭...”

“You are my Sunshine” DogDay commented.

You laughed, blushing slightly, “Thanks, you too” you joked, knowing fully well he was just talking about the title.

DogDay, though incapable of blushing, audibly made a strangled noise which only made you laugh. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

“Angel”

“Sorry, sorry! I’m just messing with you!”

He laughs, and the sound makes you smile.

It’s been a while since you had any semblance of normalcy, it was nice. You wanted more of this.

Yes, you wanted more moments just like this one.

But with HIM alongside you.

It took a LONG while, but by the time you were done, you managed to sew DogDay a brand new pair of legs, made of mismatched fabric and cloth.

DogDay helped himself to sit up with his hands and eyed his new lower half.

“How does it feel?” You asked, “Are you able to move?”

DogDay attempted to move his foot but found that nothing occurred, worried he tried again and again. You stopped him with a gentle hand placed over his stomach, “It’s okay, don’t worry, it might take some

time for your body to realize that you now have a lower half.” You commented, “The same happens to humans who undergo surgeries where they reattach limbs after accidents or for people who wake up from comas. It takes the body some time to catch up and work.”

“Don’t overwork yourself and just take it slow, okay?”

DogDay nodded, “Thank you, Angel. I’m eternally indebted to you.” He proclaimed, gently he took your hand in his own hand and gave it a loving squeeze.

You couldn’t but smile and return the squeeze, “Anything for you, pumpkin.” You don’t even take notice of the term of endearment that escapes your lips.

But he does, and in response his hold on your hand doesn’t let up.

Not that you’d complain about it.

A thought crosses your mind and you turn to look behind you, there’s enough fabric and foam left over that you could probably use it for...

you turn back to him.

“Hey-“

“Yes, my dear?”

“-how do you feel about getting a new tail?”

DogDay blinks for a moment, oh... right! Yeah, he realizes that doesn’t have one. “That would be a great addition, Angel.”

You let go of his hand and DogDay finds himself quite upset at the sudden lack of physical contact. He watches you move back over to where your supplies are and pick them up, resuming your work at sewing.

DogDay lets out a satisfied sigh as he observes.

In comparison to repairing his body and reconstructing his legs, making a tail takes significantly less time to build.

“Considering that you’re roughly the same size of an American doorway, 6ft 7in, I have enough to make your tail-“ you pause, taking out your measuring tape and taking the length of the now fully assembled tail.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

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#poppy playtime #dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #x reader #dogday x reader #poppy playtime DogDay #dogday

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percervall · 3 months

Text

I'm not a woman (I'm a god)

Pairing: Toto Wolff x Horner!reader Words: 3194 Warnings: Greek Mythology AU, descriptions of misogyny and sexism, Christian Horner is painted the villain, implied age gap (both are legal adults), smut, masturbation, p in v, loss of virginity, no beta we die like my sanity during f1 silly season

In which you claim what's rightfully yours

---

As the meeting progresses, you can’t fight the urge to speak up any longer. Had you still been at RedBull, you would’ve; you would have bitten your tongue until it bled because your father didn’t much care for your opinions, as he called it, despite the fact you had spent years on getting your Masters and then spent another three years on studying all the strategy calls the team had ever made to see where things could improve. No, your father allowed you to sit in those meetings just so he could keep an eye on you. But you are no longer under his watchful eye and scrutiny; Toto Wolff made sure of that. Oh, people like to say that you were stolen from the RedBull garage, your father playing the role of victim like he was born to do so, but nothing could be farther from the truth. You weren’t stolen like the 2021 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix; no, you chose to be claimed by Mercedes and their team principal. Thus, here you are, part of Lewis’ team as a strategy engineer, about to do the one thing your father always reprimanded you for: speaking out against a figure of authority.

“Are you going to say what’s on your mind or do I have to make do with your facial expressions?” Toto drawls, making your decision for you. You can feel your heart beating against your ribs as nerves flutter in the hollow of your chest.

“With all due respect, sir,” you start, the room breaking out in a mocking chuckle but you will not let that deter you, “With all due respect, but this strategy will cost you points. You are all so sure that this race will lead to a safety car while experience tells us that the chances of that happening this weekend are 2% at most, and all safety cars deployed in the last six years have been due to car malfunctions. If you want to end up in the points, I would propose a two stop strategy, allocating at least two sets of mediums for the race on Sunday and forgoing softs all together seeing as how much they suffer from tyre deg at this circuit.” The room is dead silent when you finish. Toto’s eyes remain on you, his face a stoic mask.

“Check my numbers if you want,” you add, growing in your confidence the longer this staring contest continues. Toto looks at one of the other engineers, eyebrow raised with a silent command. You hear someone frantically typing as they run the numbers. Leaning back in your chair you take a sip of your coffee, willing your hands not to tremble despite how nervous you feel. Whispers of she’s right flitter around the room as more people join in with re-running your calculations. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling smugly at being proven right four times over.

“Very well, Ms Halliwell,” Toto says, silencing the room once more. “We’ll try your set up with Lewis’ car and stick to what was already decided on by the senior members for George.” This is as much of a win as you are going to get right now, and you will gladly take it, but there’s a twinkle in Toto’s eyes that has your stomach in knots. You’re not sure whether it’s pride or awe; either way, it fills you with a feeling you can’t quite place yet you know you will crave it for weeks to come.

When Sunday rolls around, you pray to whoever will listen that your numbers check out. You have gone over the statistics of this grand prix so often that you could probably recite them in your sleep at this point. Had it been any other race, you would have accepted whatever outcome, but this one means more. You need Mercedes to do well here in Austria, but more than anything you need your father’s team to suffer the consequences of their misogyny and ignorance. As you walk into the garage ahead of the race, your heels clicking against the cement, your eyes lock with Toto who gives you a slow smile as his eyes rake over you, taking in the way the stark white fabric of your team issued blouse and your tapered black trousers show off all your assets; you know you look delectable, and you know he knows it too. From the moment you met him for your job interview (which you landed under false pretences, using your mother’s name), there’s been an undercurrent of tension. It should’ve made you cautious, fearful even, of powerful men in powerful places, but Toto has been nothing but gracious, always indulging your retorts and meeting you tit for tat, a flirtatious game of cat and mouse that you’re enjoying immensely.

“I want you next to Bono during the race. You decided on the strategy, it’s only fair you get the recognition –whether it works or not,” Toto tells you. Nodding your head, you put on your headphones and take your place at the centre console. No more hiding in plain view, your father will see exactly what you are capable of –what you could have given him. Fighting the urge to chew the skin around your thumb, you keep your back straight and shoulders back as the race starts. You keep an eye on the weather satellite, scanning for any changes that could mess with the chosen strategy while listening to Lewis’ feedback for Bono, making suggestions for minute corrections to the set up of the car. Bono graciously forwards your ideas to the driver who slowly but surely climbs his way through the field. The RedBulls are still leading the pack, but you’re certain that your father’s confidence will be his downfall. As you had predicted, there is no need for a safety car during the race and, judging by the call to pit by your father’s golden child, they had been betting on one by using the softs at the start of the race.

“You were spot on with the tyre deg stats,” Bono tells you and you can’t help but smile wickedly back at him. There’s five laps left, and both RedBulls are on the hard tyre, which will never warm up in time to benefit from their longevity. George seems to be suffering a similar fate while Lewis is fighting with one of the McLarens for P2. Your eyes remain glued to the feed of Lewis’ on board camera as he begins the final lap. He is quickly gaining on the McLaren and in what can only be described as a masterclass, overtakes it to secure a P2 finish. Lewis’ radio message doesn’t even register; all you can hear is white noise as it dawns on you that you have shown everyone just what you’re capable of. It has whetted your appetite for more –for destruction.

The team is celebrating a podium finish as if it’s a win, and you suppose to them it most definitely feels like one. You’re standing on the edge where the garage meets pit lane, watching them with a smile on your face when Toto comes to stand behind you.

“I want you front and centre when Lewis climbs that podium. You have earned this accolade and should be rewarded as such. Let your father see what he’s done,” he murmurs, voice low. It sends a shiver down your spine but you manage to nod in agreement.

“Good. Oh, and as part of your reward, I think we should celebrate accordingly in private, wouldn’t you agree? The choice is yours, take it or don’t. No hard feelings either way,” he adds, chest brushing against your back as he leans closer. Swallowing thickly, you nod once more, not trusting your voice as heat pools low in your belly at the insinuation. You can feel him slide something into your back pocket and you don’t have to check to know it’s the keycard to his hotel room.

During the podium celebrations you stood front row, eyes steadfast on the podium with a smile so wide, your cheeks ached. You can only imagine the tales Crofty and Martin are spinning about you; no doubt making inferences about how distraught your father was to have his only daughter working for the rival. Let them spin their fairy tales, you had better things to get on with –or, more accurately, a better man. Sliding the key card into the lock, you enter the hotel room of your boss. Once you take this step, there’s no turning back, but you are willing to eat the proverbial pomegranate seeds.

Toto turns around when he hears the lock click and you lean against the door. He looks incredible; sleeves of his shirt rolled up and a few of the top buttons are undone.

“Wine?” he asks, picking up the bottle from the desk.

“Yes, please,” you respond, accepting the glass he hands you. Toto smiles, and it’s so sly, bordering on debauched, that it has you squeezing your thighs together.

“Still some manners left in you. I wonder how long that will last,” he muses, raising his glass at you as he sits down on the edge of the bed.

“They claim you have stolen me from RedBull, much like they claim Hades stole Persephone,” you say, straddling him before taking a sip of your wine. He can’t help but laugh when he sees the twinkle in your eyes, one of his large hands coming to rest on your hip.

“Oh, Meine Liebe, we both know you were not some prize that could be stolen. You saw the hell they created for you and thus you fled so you could set the world ablaze.” His use of a term of endearment is not lost on you, and you crave to hear more of it.

“Stolen or not, I am here. What are you planning on doing to me?” you ask him, holding his gaze.

“Oh, I plan on doing everything, darling. Every depraved fantasy you could think of and more,” Toto says as he puts his glass on the nightstand. You grow hot all over at his words. Despite your sharp wit –and even sharper tongue, if your father’s word is anything to go on–, you are about to enter previously uncharted waters. Of course you heard stories from your female friends while at University, devoured smutty book after smutty book, but actually doing any of it? Your father would dig himself a grave so he could roll in it if he ever knew what his little girl was about to do. The nervousness you felt earlier today is back in full swing as you try to find the words to tell him your biggest secret.

“I-.. I’ve never done this before. I attended Oxford so I could live at home, remain under his watch,” you confess, not even able to say the words out loud. Toto studies your face, filling in the blanks with how your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“No man has ever touched you?” You shake your head as you bite your lip.

“Have you touched yourself, darling?” Toto asks and while he says nothing that could be construed as dirty, you gasp as if he has. Nodding your head, you can’t help but roll your hips against him, inadvertently grinding your pussy against the hardened bulge in his trousers. Toto swears under his breath, gaze darkening as he tightens his grip on you.

“Will you show me, Liebling? Will you show me how you make yourself feel good?”

Even if you wanted to, you’re not sure you could ever deny this man any request; not when he asks so caringly, as if your pleasure is the sole purpose of all of this. Breathlessly, you nod, letting Toto take your wine glass from you while you strip out of your work clothes. As you slide your blouse down your arms, you hear Toto groan as he takes in your figure clad in nothing more than your pale lilac bra and panties. It’s not the sexiest set you own, but it’s one of the few that doesn’t show through the white fabric. Before you lose your nerve, you climb back on the bed, eyes locked on Toto who leans against the footboard of the bed. He gives you a look, so openly full of desire that it makes your head spin and your pussy throb at being the object of his lust. Closing your eyes, you lean back into the pillows while your hand wanders. You can almost pretend you’re alone, your brain quickly supplying all the sordid fantasies you would never dare to say out loud. As your fingers inch under the elastic of your underwear, you can’t help but bite your lip as your hips writhe on the sheets. The tip of your pointer finger rubs against your clit and you gasp at the sensation, head thrown back. You’re already so sensitive, it won’t take much to send you over the edge. Applying the slightest bit more pressure, you begin to rub tight little circles, letting out the neediest whining noise.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” Toto groans.

“Please,” you whisper, lifting your head so you can look at him. His legs are spread and he palms his bulge while he watches you pleasure yourself, and that sight alone sends your head spinning.

“Let go for me, darling,” Toto orders gently, and who are you to disobey him? Your body arches, head thrown back as you come undone under his watchful eye.

When you open your eyes, you can see movement to your right. Sitting up on your elbows, you watch how Toto strips down to his underwear, and walks into the ensuite. You can feel your cheeks heat up when you spot the foil packets and the bottle of lube in his hands. Toto drops them on the bed before climbing on. Hovering over you, he brushes a strand of your hair back behind your ears.

“I want this to be enjoyable for you. Please tell me when you feel uncomfortable, tell me when something makes you feel good.” You nod, breath caught in your lungs. Toto smiles so tenderly at you that it makes you forget about everything else. He moves his hand from your cheek, down your neck to your bra strap.

“Can I take this off, Liebling?” he asks quietly. You can only nod, too enthralled by him to form words.

“Need to hear you say it, darling. I will always need to hear you,” Toto murmurs.

“Yes,” you whisper, swallowing down your nerves about him seeing you naked. He gently unclasps your bra, moving the straps down your arms before pulling it away completely.

“Beautiful,” he says softly, his eyes taking you in and you fight the urge to cover yourself up. Toto’s hands caress your skin, as if he is trying to commit every line and curve to memory. You arch up into his touch as he cups your breast, his thumb rubbing over your nipple and it sets something alight in your core. Toto’s hands move lower, fingers curling around the elastic of your panties.

“What about these?”

“Yes,” you reply quietly, lifting your hips to help him. He sits back on his knees, hands sliding down your thighs and his fingers are so close to where you’re aching for him, it makes you whine. Toto chuckles, moving his body over yours once more.

“You want it so bad, don’t you Liebling?” he murmurs in your ear, and the only reply you can form is a quiet uhu. He smiles against your skin, pressing a chaste kiss to your jaw before moving away to fully strip. Biting your lip, you watch him tear open one of the foil packets and roll it down his hard cock. Anticipation and nerves flitter low in your stomach; he’s definitely bigger than the vibrator you have hidden away in the back of your closet.

“We’ll take it slow, okay? You decide how far we go, you’re in control,” Toto reassures you, moving closer so he can lean down to kiss you.

“Okay,” you whisper before his lips are on yours. Your fingers tangle in his hair while he drags his cock through your folds and over your clit. Toto moves his lips down your neck, kissing and sucking gently, sure to leave marks. Your body seems to have a mind of its own as your hips grind against him and you feel a desperation taking hold of you.

“Please,” you sigh.

“Tell me Liebling, what do you want?” Toto murmurs.

“Please.. Need you- need you in me,” you all but whimper, “Fill me Toto, please..” He groans against the skin of your neck at your request. Toto fumbles blindly for the lube and applies a generous amount to his cock and your pussy. Biting your lip, you lean up and watch as he slowly, so very slowly, sinks himself inside of you. The stretch has you panting and you feel how you clench around him. He holds you close, letting you adjust to the sensation of being filled completely.

“Need you to move, Toto,” you moan, fingers clawing at his back.

“Doing so good for me, darling. Taking me so well, fuck..” he groans against your skin as he sets a languid pace, and while it’s slow, his thrusts are so deep.

“Ha-harder.. I can take it.. Please..” you whine, Toto eagerly complying with your demand. The only thing you’re able to do is cling to him as he keeps fucking you, whimpering every time he hits a spot inside of you that brings you just that teeny bit closer to the edge.

“Need you to cum, darling. Can you do that for me?” he asks as rubs his thumb over your clit.

“Uhu,” you whisper meekly, unable to form a single coherent thought as you feel your orgasm approaching.

“Close.. Toto… Please.. Need.. Need to-..”

“That’s it. God, you look so beautiful, just taking my cock like this. Come for me, darling.” And with that something snaps, your body arching as you feel your pussy clenching around him in waves. Toto keeps fucking you through it, chasing his own release, but you’re too far gone to pay attention. He keeps pressing kisses to your temple and hairline as he carefully pulls out, making sure the condom stays on. The loss has you whimpering.

“I know, I know,” Toto coos, “I’ll be right back. Did so good for me, so proud of you.” He gives you one last kiss before getting up to dispose of the condom and returns with a flannel to clean you up best he can. He throws it down by the side of the bed, and takes you in his arms. Your body feels completely boneless and you try to stifle a yawn.

“Take a nap, Liebling. We’ll get properly cleaned up in a bit.” Nodding you allow sleep to pull you under as Toto whispers sweet nothings against your hair.

written as part of @footballffbarbiex’s kink bingo challenge

It's not the 10k fic I joked about, but I finally managed to write the Greek Mythology AU I've been thinking about since early last year. Wanted to get this done and up before more information comes out during this delayed silly season, so if things feel rushed, it's because they are. This fic was heavily influenced by Bea Fitzgerald's Girl, Goddess, Queen; if you love retellings of Greek mythology, please check it out

Please let me know what you think; you comments, tags and likes mean the absolute world to me! 💜

#f1 fanfic #toto wolff smut #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #kink bingo challenge

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darlingofvalyria · 7 months

Text

❝I have these two great friends called Birth and Control.❞

part 06 | it's called a love bug, lovebug

chapter summary:

[ Sunday dinners are actually made for confessions. As Alicent braves it with a wine and a blush, you brave it too. With a boy and a view. ]

[ 2,963 ] [ series masterlist ] |best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— angst - hurt/minimal comfort(?) - no kings, no martyrs, no betas.

a/n— alexa play it's all coming back to me now by celine dion. it might read a little stilted, i struggled a bit with this chapter as i wrote it in different times. ps. i didn't translate aemond's valyrian with intention. hope it still works? comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

You had never heard of a more reverbrating sound than Helaena's smack to a poor, traumatised Daeron. "You toe licking, armpit looking, ugly garbage can!" Healeana shrieked, promptly dragging her youngest brother further away as you and Aemond scurried deeper into the safety of the darkness and shame, folded defensively onto one another, laughing your asses off.

"Oh my god," you exhale. "I am never going leaving this maze. I am going to live here, eating brambles and shit, and die here. Leave me now and prevail, Aemond. I will be fine. I'll haunt you in two to three business days."

Aemond chuckles from below you, unseen from your gaze, the mesmerised adoration he held as he can still feel his lips tingling from your desperation, still feel the curves of your body, the soft skin— he clears his throat, holding you steady by your hips before moving around until he's hovering over you as you adjusted your dress, eyes fluttering his with pressed lips trying not to laugh.

"I have a feeling dinner is ready."

"I also have a feeling your mother and grandfather knew exactly what we were doing minutes before and I fear I'd rather die here than face that."

He laughs, offering his hand and you take it regardless. "Then my mother would be glad. She didn't exactly feel the new bliss of couples between us."

You scoff. "Only because you treated me like you were cosplaying a Frost Giant." At his raised eyebrow and choked, surprised laugh, you blush. "Oh, get off with it. Your sister really likes the idea of Jotun!Loki and I am not one to kinkshame."

He strangles a laugh, peeling stray twigs from your hair. "I wouldn't dare assume. Let's go eat."

You tighten your hold on his hand, worry crescent on your forehead that Aemond straightens. "And talk?" As good as that felt, as perfect as puzzles sliding in together, you were past the age where burrowing it deep with the good parts and ignoring the pressing talks that need to be addressed.

And Aemond deserved better than that at least.

"Okay." He nods, swallowing. "Later, please."

"Okay." You try and reassure him with a smile and that seems to appease him, if a little.

Once Aegon had made five jokes concerning Daeron's loud rant— he was promptly shut up by his sister smacking him in the back of the head as soon as their mother was fretting in the kitchen and their grandfather's phone pinging for his attention, spoon on his mouth that might have been a medical nightmare — dinner went smoothly.

Daeron had successfully refused to look at your general direction, or his brother, or both since you sat together, churlish in giggles, in chatter and light arguments. Aemond kept taking the nicely marinated baby potatoes on his plate to yours once you finished up your own, and exchanged it with shuffling green beans to his plate because he loves them— it's nice.

It's more than nice. It's everything you could hope for when you think about dinner with your boyfriend's family. It's a softened thought that brews to yearning. You want this. You want be sat next to Aemond like this again, making jokes, piling food onto each other's plate, ribbing with his brother until he blushed then standing up against him when it got too far— seeing the smile he sends your way, endearing, loving, and for a moment, for this one realised moment built on lies and chuckle-fuckery ease, you let yourself indulge.

You joke about spoon feeding him dessert and blush as he envelops his soft lips over the spoon, Daeron and Aegon mimicking gags while Alicent is blushing, unable to stop a girlish giggle, a sound so surprised to her own person that she hiccups.

You are with him and you give yourself strength to break his heart.

Dinner finishes off with a lazy flick, Alicent and his father descending into business talks that usually included Aemond and though you tell him you can go hang out with Helaena— Daeron and Aegon deciding on playing The Last of Us in the game room because Aegon said he needed a good cry but also to shoot things — Aemond who had taken your hand sometime ago and has been brushing his thumb over your knuckles in a soothing gesture, implores you with a look.

You swallow and give a nod, trying for another smile that fails, noticing the moment Aemond sees it fail, his brow curling, lips pursing but doesn't say anything.

As he moves to lead, he pauses, turning back to you. "Where—?"

"Your room?"

Just as he nods, Alicent's soft and embarrassed, "Keep the door open, please," pulls you both to a blushing stop.

Otto— and Helaena rifling through ice cream in the kitchen — crow simultaneous, "Alicent," and "Mom!" as Alicent raises both her hands, the wine in her right sloshing. Though she is pink-cheeked, she maintains eye contact with her son while Aemond is struggling.

"I know you're old and smart enough, young man, and you are such a lovely girl," Alicent says to you, "and I would no doubt adore the grandchildren you will provide me—"

"Oh my gods," you stifle your giggles as Aemond makes a discordant sound in the back of his throat, like a cat hacking a saw. Otto is laughing into his wine while Helaena is making gagging noises in the background.

"— but I hope to have them when Aemond's at least graduated, so that he can provide well for you." Alicent nods, blinking. You can tell that the wine is catching up to her. "He's a good boy so I'm sure he'll do right by you. But I at least want you both to be married, of course, I would prefer if Aegon or Helaena got married first but—"

"— and that's my cue to stage left, folks," Helaena says, making a face as she grabs the entire tub of cookies and cream. "If anyone needs me, I'm in my room trying to find a husband so my baby brother can get married, gods forbid he carries on with bastards from his beautiful girlfriend— whomst, by the way, is my best friend, dunno how we're forgetting my credit in all of this."

Aemond shakes his head. "They're not sleeping here, mom, and providing you grandchildren is not in my agenda." He tugs your hand, smirking as he pulls you close only to whisper playfully, "Not tonight at least."

You shiver, laughing under your breath. "I dunno if you know this, but I have these two great friends called Birth and Control."

He breaks into a laugh and that, at least, eases the tension until you round up in his room, trying to give Helaena a meaningful look but you don't think she understands it with how she salutes you with her spoon, winking audaciously.

"Here." Aemond flicks the light on and his childhood bedroom brings a smile to your face. It's cerebral, the faint blue of his textured wallpaper, the perfectly lined books, even the framed achievements. But there's also the Oasis poster, the little figurines that you know is part of some Old Valyrian battle replica he collected when he was younger, even his old fencing gear and an exact photo of it alongside his club master, his grandfather, and family friend, Criston Cole.

"It's been a while since I've been here," you tease lightly. "It's kind of funny of your mom to think I'd be the first hot girl to christen your childhood bed."

He hums, turning away as he closes the door. When he turns back, he's rolled back his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks at you with sincerity.

"It wouldn't be much of a competition to beat. You were the first hot girl I'd ever got inside my room."

"Ahh. Right. Teasing you before your growth spurt was the highlight of my week."

Aemond let out an aggressive sigh as you laugh. "I was a senior in high school when I met you, riña, this is getting ridiculous. Borderline paedophilic since I had you moaning an hour ago."

You heave, slapping his arm. "Okay, stop, you made it weird now. Gross. Eugh."

"Promise you'll stop now?"

"Fine, I promise."

An awkwardness settles before Aemond nods at the double French doors. "Wanna talk on the patio? You've always liked my room's view than Lae's."

"Yeah," you grin. "'Cos you got the only view of the lake."

"You can barely see it with the trees. And this darkness." Reason out all he wants, but he opens the door for you, and the cool air is crisp and nice against your warm skin.

You hold out on the ledge, squinting your eyes so you can see peeks of luminous bounce of the calm lake between dark sways of forest. Once in a while, it glitters and glimmers, making itself known.

"It isn't fully true though."

"What is?" Aemond fixes his elbows, warmth pressed against yours as he stares at a fixed point of nowhere. But you can feel his tension, feel his questions he's trying to be patient to keep in. You're glad for it. Grateful. Because it gives you enough courage to confess.

"I hung out in your room because I liked hanging out with you," you admit. "Teasing you was the highlight of my day."

"Gee. Thanks."

"I was more surprised you kept letting me hang out with you when I did nothing but annoy you."

"Why do you think that is, ñuha riña?" he asks softly.

"Because you're sweet?"

The way he's looking at you... it makes you breatheless. Especially when he moves to turn fully toward you, taking you by your elbows, and you close your eyes when he leans in expecting his mouth on you, your heart dancing in the palm of his hand because it feels so, so easy to trust Aemond with it, instead he presses his lips underneath your eye, nuzzling against your nose. It shatters and remakes your heart, making you hold onto his shirt for some semblance of comfort.

"Because I've always liked you," he whispers against your skin as if it's his best kept secret. "Because I'm weak when it comes to you. Because you," he breathes against your mouth, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a tug, "make it easy to want you."

A weak laugh escapes your lips and his mouth follows the sound as if he wants to swallow it, but you press a palm to his chest. He growls.

"Easy there, tiger, that didn't sound much like a compliment."

He pulls back, holding your face. "Sorry, shit, I didn't mean— I'm not good at this. I meant... you're unattainable. Not just as Helaena's best friend but... you're cool, you're fucking gorgeous and incredibly hilarious."

"Ñuha jorrāelagon." He breathes care into the word. The word is lost on me and I force my brain to pocket it like a love letter so I can search it up. "I never thought I could be here, touching you like this." Without warning, he moulds his lips to yours in a harsh, deep kiss. It's quick but it leaves you breathless, his voice coming up ragged. "Kiss you like this. It feels like I'm in a dream and I'm struggling to let go of it. So a while ago... after..."

You nod, pressing your forehead against his, unable to look at him in the eye. You focus on touching him, your hands sliding down, making him shiver when you go underneath his shirt, skating his side until you warm your cool fingers with his spine.

"That's the thing, Aemy," you whisper. "In your head, by your words, I'm always a version to you."

He calls your name, leaning back and you're forced to see the confusion on his face.

"Helaena's best friend. Past that, an unattainable crush. Now a fake girlfriend. Someone you use to get Alys' attention, and who better than the unattainable crush? It's a pedestal, Aemy."

"It's not like that, that was a bad, convoluted—"

"But it's the truth, it's how I feel. And though that sucks, I understand." You take his hands as you step back and he's frowning harder, the lines deepen and his jaw is tight. "I knew what I was getting into, you know? But things change because I've changed."

"It's Cregan, isn't it?" he snarls, tugging his hands away.

"Oh, you jealous idiot, it's you! We've gone over this, you incredible dumbass!"

"Me? How the hell is this about—"

"— because I love you!" you shout. Then stop, inhale. Blink. Aemond copies it. It's almost hilarious. "Or I know I can be."

He works his jaw, turning away. "I don't understand."

"Okay, here it is." You inhale. "Just listen and breathe for a second, okay? Okay? Don't turn away from me." You pull him back by his chin, smiling faintly at the pout you form. "Say you understand."

He sighs, taking your hand. "Yes, I understand."

"I can't compete with someone you've loved for so long," you start softly, staring at your conjoined hands wondering if this is the last time you'll get to hold him like this. "Without you showing you can love me for more than that. I can't compete with your own ideal happy ending if I'm not part of it. I won't. I refuse." Your smile is wry, it's heartbreak and it's strings. You wish you had the energy to scream, to act like a brat and demand his heart, his promises in gold-ink and pink-veined hue. It's what your heart wants.

But you're of big age. You've seen love in its spaces, how it takes root in people, how it affects the world around you.

And you know you cannot love him if he does not make the effort to love you in the same way.

Your heart is in your throat but the words come out anyway. "Because I love you, Aemy. And I know I can fight for you. I can fight for what we have. I can wake up tomorrow and choose to love you with the same degree, if not fiercer, if I could. And I could do that again and again. That's how love works. You have to wake up tomorrow, see me, and choose to love me all over again."

You smile gently, sadly. "I can't allow myself to be loved in halves. I've done that before, I'm not doing it again. Not even for you."

You bring yourself on your tip toes— damn tall, beautiful rat bastard — and brush your lips on the corner of his. His eye closed. "I'm not going to pressure you for an answer. Alys was... Alys is a big part of what you know is love, and I respect that. I understand that it'll be hard, but I need to know if you're willing to let go of it for me. Because I can promise you I can love you. But I won't. Not without assurance that you can try for me."

"What are you asking me?" he asks softly, straightening. There's a hard line going into his body, like a dutiful student given an assignment.

"I'm asking you to think if you can see past the little statue you've made of me. See me breathing. Alive, just like this." You press a hand to his face and retrieve it back before he can hold it. He shots you a look of betrayal. "I'm going home with Hel. You know how to message me, okay? Bye, dōna zaldrīzes."sweet dragon.

His eye flick upward, shock and heartbreak and confusion moulds and twists into such a beautiful blue, mouth agape trying to find words he can't find— and you smile wryly, turning away and leaving.

You get to Helaena's door quick, knocking soon after.

"Hmph!"

"You're either getting choked by a robber or masturbating, and really Hel, I need you to make two grunts to tell me the former so I can bust down the door because I don't want to see you bust a—"

The door swings wide, Helaena's face in a comical irritation.

"That is so fucked up, I hope you know— hey, hey." Her irritation sweeps into a frown as you fail to contain your watery eyes. "What happened? What's wrong? What did Aemond do? Oh, that little twerp—"

"— it's not him, it's not him, chill, I just wanna go home, yeah? Get our cakes and go, please?"

Hel's frown deepens, eyes darting back to Aemond's door.

"Please, Helaena," you beg. "I'll tell you when we get home. I'll make us special drinks."

She takes your hand, determination wound tight with concern. "Sure thing, babe. Let's go."

When you make your hasty departure to her grandfather of all of them, Alicent already in bed and the other boys still in the gaming room, cakes in hand, you tow over Helaena's baby blue buggy— she leans over at you with a hand on the ignition, whispering as if she was afraid, "You— are you meeting Cregan tonight? After, I mean." Her eyes widen. "I'm not judging, I'd never—"

"No, no, I understand. You'd never judge me for that, I know. But no. Just you and me tonight."

She smiles softly. It's not like Aemond's but they don't look that apart that it still stings. "Love you."

"Love you too, lovebug."

Loving Helaena isn't hard.

Just as you know loving Aemond wouldn't be, despite it all. But it isn't you that has issues that needs handling, and you've put everything in his court now.

And yet you can't deny your hope.

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

Old Habits Die Hard Part 13 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: With graduation rapidly approaching, Bradley treats you to a spring break like no other.

Warnings: Angst, swears, smut and fluff

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (fuckboy college student Bradley)

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The movie theater was cheap and kind of shitty. But on Sunday afternoon, when Bradley asked you if you wanted to go see a movie he was pretty sure you didn't actually want to see, you wholeheartedly agreed.

"We can kick off our spring break. Maybe you should change into a skirt?" he casually suggested as he grabbed his phone and his wallet from his desk.

Then Bradley watched you peel off your tight jeans and drop them onto his bed. They were followed by your underwear, and Bradley thought about skipping the movie and fucking you right here in his room.

"You going to be cold walking to the movie like that, Sugar?" he asked, practically panting as you slid your skirt up over your naked legs and your bare pussy.

"Will you warm me up when we get there?" Your voice was so sweet and innocent, completely at odds with the filthy look you were giving him.

"I'll warm you up," he promised, wrapping you up in one of his sweatshirts for the walk.

The early March air was chilly, and Bradley watched you struggle with your skirt whenever the wind picked up. The movie theater was pretty empty with everyone away for break, but you led him to seats in the last row anyway. He had never taken a girl out before you, so he was already smiling from the memories of the last time you and he were here.

"These seats okay?" you asked him, still using that sweet voice.

"Looks good, Sugar."

You casually eased yourself down into the seat next to him, and he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

"Good thing nobody else sat back this far," you whispered as the previews started.

Bradley grunted, touching your neck and playing with your hair. His cock was twitching a bit as the lights dimmed, and you leaned into his touch.

This part genuinely felt so good, that Bradley sat for a while with you pressed up against him. Your head was resting on his shoulder, and you were kind of snuggled up with your legs curled under you. When you turned your face to kiss him, he let himself get lost in you. The movie faded into the background as you smiled against his mouth. He could almost feel your soft laughter as you unzipped the sweatshirt he had put on you.

"Bradley?" You took his hand and guided it up your leg. He forced himself to go slow, if for no other reason than to watch your face as you got turned on by him.

You sat back in your seat and spread your legs wide for him. You were pretending to watch the movie, and he was watching you. As soon as the pad of his thumb reached your slit, Bradley watched your head tip back against the headrest.

"You're already wet," he groaned, slipping two fingers inside you and making you gasp.

If anyone looked back this way, they would probably know what was going on. You were riding his fingers while he stroked your clit so slowly. Bradley could hear you whimpering soft, pitiful noises, and when the volume of the music in the movie got louder, he fucked you hard and fast with his hand until you came for him.

Then you spend some time sucking his fingers clean and licking his palm until he was afraid he might actually cum in his pants.

-----------------------------

You barely made it back inside the Beta house before Bradley was unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans.

He had let you tease him during the walk back from the movie, rubbing yourself against him at every crosswalk and kissing him the whole way.

"Fuck," he moaned when you walked in and got up on the beer pong table, your skirt up around your waist was leaving nothing to the imagination. You looked at him, and the expression of pure lust on his face had you biting your lip.

"You like that, Beer Boy?"

He reached his hand between your legs and stroked you once with one long finger. "Don't you dare move. Gotta get a condom." His voice was deep and raspy, and he squeezed the flesh of your inner thigh before dashing out of the room with his dick hanging out of his jeans.

You waited for him, getting more worked up as you thought about how many times you and he had been at parties together when this room was completely packed with people. Now he was going to fuck you here. Right where he taught you how to play beer pong like it was a math equation.

"Sugar." He was grunting as he rolled a condom on and stood between your legs. Gently, he nudged your legs wider, teasing you with his fingertips along your wet slit. Then with one fluid movement, he was fully inside you, filling you up in the most delicious way with his big penis.

A giggle escaped your lips as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

"What's funny, Sugar?" he asked, pushing your skirt a little higher around your waist and grabbing your hips.

You moaned as he started moving. "I told Jeff last week that he must have a tiny dick based on the way he acts."

Bradley chuckled too, stroking his thumbs along your skin. "You're too good for his little dick. You wouldn't be satisfied."

You giggled again until Bradley started fucking you hard. Then you were just moaning non stop as he filled you over and over. When his lips met yours in a kiss that was so soft compared to the way he was pounding you, he nipped you before whispering, "I think you need me. I think I can make you feel good."

"Bradley!" you gasped as the table jerked and jolted a few inches across the floor. But he wasn't listening, just thrusting. His soft hairs met your clit as he moved, and soon you were squeezing and grinding and coming around him.

"You do make me feel good."

With a smile, Bradley led you upstairs to his room. When you paused and ran your hand across Sugar written on the door, Bradley kissed you. He hadn't repainted the door. He told you he was never going to repaint the door again.

He flicked on his US Navy desk lamp, the soft glow so familiar to you now. He had been so good to you, never once making you doubt he was a good boyfriend.

You wrapped your arms around him. "I can't believe we get a whole week here together."

"Just us," he replied, selecting a Grateful Dead playlist before wrapping his arms around you as well. "Can I change you into my shirt now? You look cute like this, with your skirt all wrinkly and your sweater bunched up. But I want to snuggle."

You nodded, and Bradley slowly undressed you, well given the small amount of clothing you were actually wearing, and pulled his tie dye shirt over your head.

"Do you ever listen to anything besides the Grateful Dead?" you asked with a teasing smile as you knelt on his bed.

Bradley watched you carefully as he got himself undressed down to his underwear. "It was my mom's favorite band. We listened to them together... a lot."

Your smile grew instead of shrinking. "Then that's why you know every lyric," you told him, pulling him into bed as well.

Bradley snorted and gathered you into his arms. "How would you know if I knew all the lyrics, Sugar? I never sing out loud."

You just shrugged against him as he held you close. "I can tell. By the way you hum along and kind of how you move when a song of theirs is playing."

Bradley ran one big palm up the back of the shirt, finally settling on the middle of your back. He could feel your eyes getting tired and drifting closed almost immediately. The week of midterms had been exhausting, and you were so happy to have some time here alone with Bradley for the next few days. So you let yourself snuggle in a little tighter against him, burrowing underneath the blankets.

As you started to drift off into a very comfortable sleep, he sang for you.

You don't know how easy it is. You don't know how easy it is to love you.

You let him finish the song before you wrapped your arm around his middle. "Of course you know all the words, Beer Boy. And your voice is pretty, too."

The last thing you could remember was his soft chuckle as you dozed off.

---------------------------

Bradley had a lot of fun taking you along with him on his daily routine. Especially because this included things like showering with you.

"Too hot!" you gasped when you ducked inside the shower curtain with him. Bradley had taken the time to painstakingly clean his bedroom and bathroom for you. For his girlfriend. He wanted you to feel appreciated.

"Better?" he asked, turning the temperature down as he blocked the shower stream with his body.

"Mmhmm," you hummed, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him.

It was late Monday morning. You had lured him back to bed after he got up to use the bathroom, and you had both fallen asleep for another hour. Bradley found himself breaking all of his routines for you. Honestly, the idea that he would spend a week on a pretend spring break with a girl should have been laughable. And don't get him started on his bedroom door.

But you were different. Everything about you was different and better. He groaned as you sunk your capable fingers into his wet hair and started to wash it for him.

"Feels good," he managed to say as he eyes drifted closed. You were touching him everywhere, but still not initiating anything physically sexual. You were kissing his face and talking softly to him, but you were letting him just enjoy being near you.

"What's on the agenda for today?" Your voice sounded like you were smiling, but he kept his eyes closed to your welcome touch.

"I bought actual breakfast food. Not just cereal. I'll cook something for you. Then I was thinking a movie marathon in the afternoon, followed by toasting marshmallows at the kitchen stove. I'll crank the heat up so it's more comfortable for later. Sound okay?"

When your fingers paused in his hair, he cracked one eye open and looked at you. "What?"

You pressed your lips together, and Bradley stroked his fingers along your tattoo. "Sounds perfect, actually."

Bradley grinned. "You already got into your dream school, Sugar. You deserve a break."

So after Bradley dressed you in his gym shorts and tee shirt, he lured you down to the kitchen for some scrambled eggs and breakfast beer. He sat you on the counter where Tyson makes his sandwiches, and you told him all about the University of Chicago.

"So they have a state of the art math department with better computers than UVA could ever hope to have. And one of the professors won a Nobel prize."

Bradley grinned at you as he scooped some eggs into a plate. "Sounds like you'll fit right in then."

Your smirk and eyeroll did not conceal the pleased look you were giving him. "How are you going to fit in when you get to flight training? They don't serve breakfast beers in the Navy, Beer Boy."

Bradley watched you hold your bottle up in the air before taking a sip.

"Well I didn't get into the program yet."

"You will," you promised him with a firm nod.

"And I can be serious about things when I want to be. For example, I'm serious about you, Sugar."

Bradley handed you the plate and a fork, and you took a small bite without meeting his eyes.

"Are you?"

Bradley nodded. "I told you I wouldn't fuck up again."

"I believed you."

-------------------------------

You whiled the afternoon away in Bradley's bed, watching movie after movie and falling asleep with him snuggled up against your back.

"I'm surprised you're not making me watch some hippie concert footage or something," you told him with a yawn. You were still exhausted from midterms.

He chuckled behind you. "Don't tempt me. I do have a DVD."

"I'm sure you do."

You stretched your arms and arched your back against him. It had started raining, and Bradley had turned the heat up in the house. You couldn't think of anywhere you would rather be, and as you rolled over on his arms, he kissed your nose.

"Let's go downstairs," he whispered against your lips. "I'm starving."

"S'mores for dinner?"

"Better than real food," he confirmed.

You grinned at him. "You know this is going to require bathing suits, right?"

Bradley started kissing your neck. "Am I gonna be able to see your tattoo with your bathing suit on?"

You started laughing as he pinned you down on the bed. "Only one way to find out."

"Put it on. I'll meet you downstairs," he said, climbing off of you and grabbing his swim trunks from a dresser drawer.

You waited until he was gone before you got out of his bed. You took your time digging around in your bag. How was it going to work, being in Chicago while Bradley was taking a tour of the US?

You glanced at his Navy desk lamp before you turned it on. The soft glow that filled the space was warm and welcoming. You would always associate the feeling you had at this moment with Bradley.

When you pulled your bikini out of your bag, you stripped Bradley's shorts and shirt off and folded them, setting them down next to the lamp. He would definitely be able to see your tattoo, and you already felt a little giddy.

You pulled on the bottoms and tied the top, but before you headed for the kitchen, you grabbed Bradley's bathrobe.

"Hi," you announced when you strolled in.

He had been setting up chocolate, marshmallows and graham crackers on the counter, but his eyes snapped up to look at you.

"Nice trunks," you said with a snort. "It's so patriotic to wear the American flag across your dick."

"You can be equally patriotic and take them off me whenever you want. Now why don't you show me what you're wearing under my bathrobe, Sugar?"

You shrugged out of the soft robe that smelled like your boyfriend and let him look at you. Your suit was all black and very basic, but Bradley's fingertips were skimming across your tattoo immediately.

"Wish I could have taken you to the beach," he whispered. "You look so good."

You rubbed yourself against him with a giggle, and he scooped you into his arms. "Stop distracting me," he growled, setting you down next to the refrigerator. "It's like an assembly line of everything sweet: marshmallows, chocolate, graham crackers and Sugar."

You laughed and pulled him closer for a kiss. "You're very charming, Beer Boy. It's unexpected."

He rubbed his hands together. "Now, how do you like your marshmallows?"

"Practically burnt."

"Very good." He kissed you and handed you his phone as his Grateful Dead playlist started playing. "You're in charge of the music while I make the goodies, as long as you don't try to change the playlist."

"We'll just see about that," you murmured, scrolling through his other playlists while he skewered a few marshmallows and turned on the stove.

You watched Bradley's muscular back as he worked, turning the marshmallows with intent, making sure they were roasting evenly. He didn't rush the process, and he looked adorable with the tip of his tongue peeking out of his mouth.

When you glanced back down to his phone to switch songs, your heart sank. You gasped as a text appeared. It was a photo of Phoebe. She was topless at the beach, her fingers doing barely anything to conceal her nipples.

"Should I just make you two s'mores to start with, Sugar? And I was joking before; I can make you real food, too, if you want."

Bradley was completely relaxed while your heart was pounding in your throat. You wanted to snap his phone in half. You opened the text and noticed that this photo was the only thing in the thread.

You swallowed hard. "Have you talked to Phoebe lately?" You tried for a casual tone, tried to keep your foot bouncing to the music.

"Hell no. Except when she chased me down for a minute on campus last week. But it was stupid. I deleted her out of my phone." He was still completely calm as he smiled at you and started to assemble the s'mores.

One more glance down at the photo and you noticed that it was sent from an unnamed phone number. So he was telling you the truth. You even scrolled through his address book and didn't come across her name, or very many names at all, actually. And now you felt a little guilty.

But not too guilty. Because you really fucking hated Phoebe and the way she treated Bradley.

"Try a bite?" he asked, holding up a perfectly made s'more for you to take a nibble.

You bit into it and then watched him devour most of it in one bite. "It's good," you whispered, tapping his phone camera discreetly. "But you got a little chocolate on your lip."

"Oh yeah?"

You closed the inches between his mouth and yours, and licked the sweetness off of his lip. You took a few selfies with his camera while you pulled his lower lip between your teeth and made out with him. You managed to snap a few while he was reaching in the front of your top with one hand and untying your suit with the other.

"You know, smart girl, you made me a promise that if I did really well on my midterms, I could have a treat."

You set his phone down and tipped your head back while he played with your breasts.

"You want to fuck my tits and cum on my tattoo?" you whispered softly.

"Please, Sugar," he groaned.

"Well? How did you do on your exams?" you managed to ask with an authoritative tone.

"Aced them all, Doctor Sugar."

You grabbed him by the back of his neck and wrapped your legs around his waist. Bradley moaned into your mouth and tipped you back, turning you so you could stretch out along the counter. Then he jumped gracefully up as well, straddling your waist.

You grinned up at him, running your foot along his leg. "You know, Beer Boy, I don't think it's mathematically possible for me to graduate with a GPA lower than 3.95."

"Let me go get a condom, so I can fuck you stupid."

He made to jump down from the counter, but you held him in place with both hands on his shoulders. You nibbled nervously on you lip, and he started to look concerned.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, searching your face. "Did I do something?"

You shook your head. "Do you always use a condom, Bradley?"

"Yeah," he answered. "Every time."

"Could we....not?"

His eyes went wide as he froze on top of you. "You want to have sex with me without a condom?"

You licked your lips before you whispered. "I just want to feel it. I never did before."

"Me neither," he said, practically panting.

"And then you can cum on my tattoo."

Bradley kissed you hard, the back of your head pressing into the counter. You could feel him working his fingers inside your suit bottom, teasing you before he pulled the fabric to the side.

Bradley released your lips and met your eyes as he pushed himself against you. "Oh, Sugar." He was gasping as he filled you up, inch by inch. His face was twisted as if in agony inches above yours. "Fuuuuuck."

You could feel him. Really feel him inside you. It was incredible. A soft moan escaped your lips as Bradley pumped himself in and out of you a few times, groaning about how good you felt to him. The expressions on his face had you so excited, you felt yourself clench.

"I can't. I'll cum," he whispered, as if to himself, before he withdrew from you. "God damn it, Sugar."

You took Bradley's hands in yours, and let him play with your tits. Then you guided him up so that he was rubbing himself along the valley between your breasts, still so wet from being inside you. He was grunting and groaning, thrusting himself against you, chanting your next with each long stroke. And when you let your tongue swipe along his tip to taste yourself on him, he paused so you could suck him harder.

"Shit," he growled after a moment, palming his length in one big hand and jerking himself off. "You're too much." You watched him come all over your chest and your ribs, coating your tattoo in white, and spreading it with his fingers as he caught his breath.

He looked at you as you guided his fingers between your lips to taste him. Bradley stroked your cheek with his fingertips, as he said, "Let me get you cleaned up."

When he eased himself off of the counter and went to get some paper towels, you grabbed Bradley's phone. Quickly you replied to Phoebe's text with the photo of Bradley feeling you up, your lips all over his. Then you deleted the messages and blocked the number.

-------------------

Sugar is an icon. Thanks for reading this story, because I have loved writing it. Big thanks as always to @mak-32

PART 14

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader

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izgnanik-a · 1 year

Text

CoD ABC’s

NSFW 18+ x Reader Edition - Minor DNI!

Masterlist here

M - Masochism (König x Reader)

Tags: degradation (names used: bitch, whore), headspace, aftercare, heavy BDSM, orgasm denial, unprotected p-in-v

Not beta-read, we die like men 🤷🏽

Prompt: You discovered on your own that König was a masochist, and decided to indulge in his fantasies in the bedroom. You just didn’t know you’d get such a good reaction as a leather Mommy.

Happy Easter Sunday! And a belated Happy Passover!

You looked to the mirror strategically placed at the head board of you bed, fixing the corner of your red lipstick that had smudged. A gentle whimper pulled your attention away from yourself, down to the floor.

You panned your eyes down to your 6’9 partner, a quivering mess, told to ‘be a good table and nothing more’. A cold glass of water balanced on the small of his back, the droplets of ice cold condensation pooling on his skin.

His erect, hard cock dripped between his legs, stripped bare of even his hood.

You slid your legs off the side of the bed, dressed in a leather zip up suit, and stood to collect your glass. You took two noisy gulps before replacing the glass between König’s trembling shoulder blades.

He’d been in this position for a good half hour now, proving to be more of a masochist than you thought.

You crouched down, balancing back on the heels you had stepped on his back with gently before. “Look at you, you poor thing.” You cooed, and could see the blush spreading across his downed face. Your teasing voice was humiliating and pleasing to him. “You look thirsty. Would you like a glass of water?” You hoisted the cup, rolling the cold sides along his shoulder.

He shivered, clenching his eyes tightly.

You held it to his neck. “No?”

He didn’t reply. Like he was supposed to.

“Good.” You set the glass on the bedside table, rising to your feet. “Kneel.” You pointed at the ground before you and watched him sit back on his haunches. His body so close to yours.

His erect cock pushed up deliciously, leaking against the floorboards. Red smudges of lipstick sat across his collarbones, trailing down his stomach to the base of his cock.

You lifted your heel, pressing gently into his thigh just to hear him whine. “You liked being used as a table, didn’t you?”

König turned shades of red. His eyes narrowing on your dress.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

His eyes flit up.

You dragged your heel along his skin, nudging the side of his cock. He twitched but kept his eyes up on yours. “You’re nothing but a tool. A whore to be used and forgotten about.”

König’s face scrunched up as you rubbed the side of your heel against his cock. You dropped it between his spread legs, pushing up against his balls.

“That’s what you like, right? To be used?” You reached out to grab him by his hair, tugging his head forward until his chin rested against your belly. “Say it.”

He whimpered, mouth falling open, “I like to be used by you.” He shivered against you, his hands ghosting along the ankle of your heels. “I want to be used. I like- being your table.” He began blabbering, and you knew he was strokes from cumming.

“So be a good tool,” you stepped away from him, and leaned back with your elbows on the mattress, legs hanging apart, “and fuck me like the bitch in heat you are.”

König rose from his weak knees, leaning over your body, and still holding your gaze with soft eyes; as if to say, ‘can I please?’

“What did I say?” You barked. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

König moved quicker than before, his hands grabbed the bottom of your dress and yanked up. The effective grip made a tear in the fabric, and he glanced to you in worry that he wasn’t supposed to. But with a stronger tear, he exposed your entire body, the collar hanging limp against your chest.

He wasted no time as he stood, bringing your hips up with him, and locked your legs behind himself. The underside of his erect cock pressed down against your wet cunt. His nervous eyes flickered up at your pliant, parted lips as he held himself at your wet hole.

“Wait.”

König froze, meeting your eyes with uncertainty.

You just wanted to watch him suffer a moment more. “Do you think you deserve it?”

Just waiting at your soaked cunt, tip already kissing it, you could feel him trembling. He took labored breaths to still his doubt, “Please?”

You raised your brow, leaned up on your elbows.

He dropped his hand from his cock, leaned forward and hovered his mouth over yours. “Please use me, let me be a tool for you to cum. I won’t cum inside. I’ll pull out. Please. Meine Schatz. I’ll be good for you.”

As he spoke, his cockhead sneakily sunk past your soaked lips and his eyes rolled back.

You caught his mouth against your own, tongue and teeth clashing as he pushed in. You tugged his hair in yours hands, pulling his forehead against yours and joined in a unison of moans with his brisk thrusts. “Such a— good bitch.” You shivered as his cock pushed up against your pelvic bone, rubbing deliciously. You shut your eyes in euphoria, “My good whore.”

König wrapped his arms around your lower back, bracing you against every blistering punch of his hips. He whimpered, cock twitching, and tucked his face into your neck as his hips stuttered. His moaned increased in volume, his hips quickened, and then—

“I’M SORRY. I’M SORRY. Ah fuck— I’M SORRY.”

König’s cock twitched and pumped into your pussy until he was spent. His skin turned an even hotter blaze as he realized his mistake; he clenched onto your waist.

“I’m sorry.” He sobbed. “It felt so good, Meine Schatz, I couldn’t take it anymore, I—“

You stroked your hand through his hair, massaging down his back. “It’s okay, König. You did so well for me.” You hummed, wrapping an arm around his neck, and pressed your lips to his cheek. “You made me feel so good. My best boy.”

König’s hips held tight against your pussy, plugging you up; he rubbed his forehead against the bed, suckling your neck.

“Did that feel good for you?” You asked as he lifted his head.

His lips were stained red with your lipstick, maybe even his teeth with how vicious he was kissing you. He nodded.

You smiled, “We can do it more often then. Yeah?”

He nodded again, kissing you softly with a squeeze to your waist. “Meine liebe.” He cooed against your lips.

You smiled, stroking your hands through his hair, “Mein König.”

4/8/23

#könig mw2 #könig headcanons #könig x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw x reader #cod mwii #Izgnanik-a

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meg-bone · 7 months

Text

Humphrey bone one shots [scenarios]

a/n hey guys sorry if its not to great this is my first attempt at writing anything like this, just wanted to get it out there because of all the new Humphrey content in season 5, please critique me! no beta read we die like Julian here.

friendship scenarios:

living friend scenarios :

when Humphrey was alive, he was pretty alone in the aspect of friends, the same went down in the afterlife, so when he round out that you could see ghosts he didn't expect much. just for you to ignore him like everyone else does and to get on with the rest of the ghosts. but when you started speaking to him, he was pleasantly surprised. at first he was a little awkward as he usually is but eventually when he got used to you he started opening up, telling you about his marriage and how he felt like everyone would ignore him all the time.

he really enjoys hearing about your traveling experiences and your school days, considering he had near to no experience of travel from when he was younger.

he LOVES to have some company wherever he is, usually when you two would beet and you would find his head on the floor of on the stairs, you'd lie down with him and you could talk to one another for hours.

dead friend scenarios:

when you first died, in all honesty he was quire annoyed, it meant that he would have to another person blatantly ignoring him. he didn't know much about you or your time at the house because of his 'immobility'. you were typically quite antisocial so when you did die, you were quickly scared by the other people in the house, you found comfort in Humphrey as he was the only one who didn't scare you in all honest, all robin would do is yell and Annie and Mary were pretty close friends already, it felt like Sunday school where everyone already had friends leaving you all alone. so when you found out that Humphrey was in the same situation as you, you quickly became good friends, though you had barely anything in common, you enjoyed speaking to him and listening to his stories, he really appreciated someone that was willing to chase down his body for him and carry his head around with you. it made him feel more involved rather than just 'gathering dust on a shelf'

though he did always worry about you passing on, he wouldn't know what to do with himself considering all of the other ghosts just passed him around [literally], so when Annie passed on it really made him realise how great full he was to have you as a friend

romantic scenarios:

I wont be doing any living head canons ATM but feel free to request if you like :)

you two had been friends for what one could consider a life time, or a deathtime. you had both bonded over you situations and your lack of other options, you found comfort in Humphrey, he as much nicer than any of the other ghosts you had ever met. you never had an official ' first date' and in he best way to describe it, it just kind of happened. there was never an official word. but one day both his head and his body agreed that the one thing they both agreed on would be you. though the remained separate on certain occasions, they finally began to work together over time. Humphrey was always very affectionate towards you, even when you were just friends, but now that he and his body agreed, hugs were one of his favourite thing, literally almost every other second he wanted a hug, or just just genuinely be close to one another and considering his lack of romantic affection in his life, he wasn't going to miss out in his death.

he adores for you to comb your hands through his hair and caress his face, this was also one of your favourites as it could be carried out when him and his body are disagreeing, initially you would watch a film with his head in your lap, finding your hands wandering to run through his hair as if they had a mind of their own. though when you found that he didn't mind you made a habit of it, combing his hair with your nails into a specific neat style considering how messy it got sometimes.

warning! mild nsfw content below the line (this is assuming that ghosts can indeed, have sex.) i wont go into detail just a little taste, feel free to request more on this behalf again ill do a sep story

when both of you had started dating, you didn't really think about sex being something that would get brought up considering your lack of living-ness. though with Julian's habits with the plague ghosts you both became very aware of the possibilities to say the least. it took years of awkwardness around the topic for it to get brought up. both of you had grown up in very private lives and sex outside of marriage was never something you would think of. though eventually you became curious about what it would be like, both of you being dead and all. and then it became all you could think of, how his hands would feel, the whole detachable head brought a wide range of filthy ideas into your head, fannys book reading gave you a bit of inspiration for that. Humphrey took longer to warm up to the idea than you did, him being married in his past life that is. though eventually his 'primal urges, would take over and he'd cave in to your desires. he was a major people pleaser. doing whatever you would like him to on command. he wouldn't even touch himself without your word.

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maxineholtzmann · 5 months

Text

project easy-bake - complete on ao3

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, We're ignoring all of Season Four, It never happened, Chrissy Cunningham Lives, Chrissy Cunningham & Eddie Munson Friendship, Chrissy Cunningham Has a Crush on Robin Buckley, Robin Buckley Has a Crush on Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Getting Together, First Kiss, Eventual background buckingham is implied, Minor Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Steve Harrington & Maxine "Max" Mayfield Have a Sibling Relationship, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson Friendship, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Maxine "Max" Mayfield & Eddie Munson Friendship, This whole thing is a romcom, Baking, Hijinks & Shenanigans, No beta we die like Barb

Word Count: 16,911 Chapters: 2/2

Written for @thefreakandthehair's Lex's Spicy Six Spring Fanworks Challenge 2023!

Chapter One Snippet:

“Get your ass off the counter, that’s not sanitary,” Max lightly shoved Eddie's legs, getting flour on his black jeans.

“If you think anything in this kitchen is sanitary , Red, you’d be incorrect. Stop changing the subject–what is all of this for? And why on god’s green Earth do you not want Harrington to know about it?” Eddie scooted closer as Max carefully measured out the second cup of flour.

She paused, considering. “If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

Eddie perked up, of course , he should have thought of this earlier. “Oh, so that’s it. You have a crush on Harrington. I mean, he’s a bit old for you, but I can see the appeal–”

“What? No! Ew! He’s like my weird hybrid brother-mom.” Max looked at him like he had five heads. “It’s his birthday next Tuesday and I’m trying to bake him a cake but every time I try it turns out disgusting. Sunday it was burnt and yesterday it was raw in the middle! He does a lot for us and I know no one else even knows when his birthday even is and I wanted to do something…nice, for once. If you tell anyone I said that I’ll kill you.”

read the rest on ao3

#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #max mayfield #rated t #fluff #repost #completed fic

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steddieunderdogfics · 5 months

Note

cannot more highly recommend the fic "project easy-bake" by maxineholtzmann on ao3! its such a fun and cute little spring fic that deserves so much more love!

Project Easy-Bake by maxineholtzmann

@maxineholtzmann

Rating: Teens & Up

16,911 words, 2/2 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, We're ignoring all of Season Four, It never happened, Chrissy Cunningham Lives, Chrissy Cunningham & Eddie Munson Friendship, Chrissy Cunningham Has a Crush on Robin Buckley, Robin Buckley Has a Crush on Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Getting Together, First Kiss, Eventual background buckingham is implied, Minor Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Steve Harrington & Maxine "Max" Mayfield Have a Sibling Relationship, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson Friendship, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Maxine "Max" Mayfield & Eddie Munson Friendship, This whole thing is a romcom, Baking, Hijinks & Shenanigans, No beta we die like Barb

Summary:

Max Mayfield was up to something. She’d popped over on Sunday to ask for flour. Then again on Tuesday. Now it was Wednesday and here she was on Eddie’s front porch again. “I need to borrow 2 cups of flour,” she said flatly, holding the same red plastic mixing bowl she’d been holding the last two times. “Wow, no ‘Hi Eddie, you’re such a great neighbour, how are you doing’? This is the third time this week you’ve asked for flour. What the hell are you baking and why are you baking it in such high quantities?” Eddie crossed his arms, leaning on the door frame of his trailer. Or: 5 times Max & Eddie try to bake a cake for Steve and 1 time there is no baking at all (look this really spiralled out of hand and my original 5+1 didn't fit anymore)

Thanks for the rec!

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

#steddie fic recs #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #stranger things #canon divergent #baking #teens and up #fluff

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swamiiyasssss · 11 months

Text

Religion - LDR

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley × F!Reader.

Word count: No idea i wrote this on the notes app where everything unhinged in my life goes Warnings/Tags: Angst, character death, reader death, mentions of smut, mentions of sex, mentions of blood, gore..?, PTSD, religious trauma, swearing/cursing, strong language, fluff, strong descriptions of bodily fluids, hurt no comfort, no happy ending, no beta we die like reader.

Summary: Simon's never been one for god, but damn him if it means you get home safely.

A/N: Sorry if there's any incorrect references to christianity. I'm not even christian, I'm just so intrigued by the religion. Also one of my favourite songs ever is Take me to Church by Hozier (2013 vibes fr) and i just gotta use our Queen Lana's song cuz we both know Ghost is LDR-coded. Pull up the song on spotify n listen to it while reading this it's really good.

GIF by @daniel-bruehl

_________________________________________________

Cause you're my religion

You're how I'm living

When all my friends say I should take some space

Well I can't envision, that for a minute

When I'm down on my knees, you're how I pray

_________________________________________________

As a young boy, Simon never went to church. Sunday mornings didn't see him with hands together on a wooden bench in some cathedral, hymns reverberating against the white walls. He stayed at home, much to his mother's behest. But he did it because his father despised it even more.

For someone who claimed to be such a man-of-God, Simon's father was anything but pure-hearted. If you could paint the man's soul on a canvas, you'd only find a repulsive potion of pus-like, tar-ish mess. Church was far from Simon's known home of heaven; The belt stung against his wrists, his soft cries were silenced in the entrance hallways. Always hidden from the eyes of God.

But when a man, Simon was reborn into a Ghost. Ruthless, machine-like, angelic. He was God's hand in battle, slaying the evils of the world, and banishing them down under. His once pure-white wings were now stained with the same tar of his father. He was now a 'Ghost'

What is a Ghost anyways? A soul too corrupted for the underworld, so it's instead cursed to roam the Earth. Even hell won't accept someone so disgusting.

And then, you came. With your shimmering eyes and your hypnotizing words. You were sin-incarnate. You were his judgment. Lust is frowned upon in the halls of Heaven, and if Simon had any chance of attaining paradise, you were the obstacle.

The came Judgment Day. The day you died. It was only meant to be a Recon mission, but He had other plans.

"You're a holy man, Riley." You light-heartedly laughed, trying to break the macabre assurance which clung to the air. "I'll put in a good word with the man downstairs."

He snarled. "None of that. Keep your eyes open Lieutenant."

"Come find me." You were slowly deceasing into unconsciousness, the words slurring and dying on your tongue." Simon. Please come find me." Your eyes slowly fluttered shut, like a machine dying down.

"Fuck—No stop it....Shut up..." The denial in his words was breaking you by the second, much like him breaking down on his knees, hands on swiftly traveling around your limp body. He was convulsing and shaking with fear; both of you. For the first time since his childhood, Ghost was scared. Genuinely fucking scared. He was hopeless.

"Simon..." You slurred.

"SHUT UP!" He screamed. Tears festered in his eyes. His breathing quickened. His pupils were dilating.

How could you sound so 'sweet', even in death?

He didn't know what to do. First time in a while where he doesn't know what do to you. He's stuck, and he can't pull him and you out.

He's lost too many men. Too many friends. He's a broken man with blood in his ledger, ands it's spraying everywhere. Is it too dickish of him to say you were the only one who could keep a lid on it? That festering, demonic rage in him behind a door, itching and crawling to get out, and you somehow, somehow, made it stay there in its chains.

The blood was gushing out of your mouth, even faster this time. You tried to cough it out, but the all-too-familiar metallic taste still kept to your tongue. You placed one of your hands to his face, making sure to feel every scratch on his skull, and every fibre on his mask. You wanted to make sure the last thing you ever felt was him.

Simon wanted to challenge time. He wanted to smite everyone in His ungodly name. He wanted to crawl through Hell, and wring the neck of Satan himself. He wanted to—He–

"Fuck out'-outta here, Lt." You swiftly pressed a pocket holster gun to his gut. His eyes widened in confusion, and quickly morphing into refusal, figuring out what you were doing. "That's an order. I'm gonna shoot you if you don't."

"I'm not leaving you, dammit."

He's known you long enough to know you were serious. You've known him long enough to know he's not budging.

"Please don't leave me." He cried.

But he will, because he won't compromise the mission because of one woman dying. A rookie sniper-slowly becoming the best in a century of the profession-bleeding out in his grasp.

"Please. I beg you, darling."

You're just a little casualty. One of many.

Whatever you two had, it wasn't love. There's no love in War. They go side-by-side; parallel, never meeting. It was a quick fuck, mixed with respect and restless fervor for each-other.

"Y/N. Please."

And Simon's got a cold heart, but even the smallest spark can set it ablaze.

Ghost stared down on you, and you saw hell finally freezing over in those eyes.

"I'll meet you, yeah? We'll have all the time in the world down there. Promise?" You whispered.

You blinked languidly. You went deaf; His mouth moved:

'I promise.'

You closed your eyes.

To the sound of the explosion came the terrible echo as if it were the anguished cry of God. And everything went black.

Everything went radio silent.

#simon ghost riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #call of duty #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare

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ineffablyendless · 1 year

Text

A NEW ETERNITY; Conversations with the newest member of the Endless family and soon-to-be Dreaming Regent, Hob Gadling|| complete, G

I wouldn’t trade the kind of chaos and excitement Dream brings into my life for anything, but it felt so perfect, with the Inn closed for Sunday and the TV blaring in the background. For a night, it really felt like we were the only two people in the world.

Exclusive interview with the soon-to-be newest member of the Endless family and Dreaming Regent!

Add tags: Established relationship, Fluff, Married Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling, POV Outsider, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, No Beta we die like Hob doesn’t.

A/N: The amount of effort I’ve put into this fic was the most I’ve ever did for any fic I’ve ever posted, and that includes coding, making two separate magazine cover articles and making a fucking promo post at all. Knowing my track record, it still won’t do as well as any of the 800 word fics I write on a whim at any point of the week, so I like to think I’m doing it for myself, just to prove that I could do it. I’m quite proud of it, I’m looking forward in trying again, even though I’m so exhausted it’s destroying me. Partially inspired by this post I saw Neil reblog

#Dreamling #Choice of fic #Established relationship Dreamling #POV Outsider #Article format #Magazine cover

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last-starry-sky · 6 months

Text

Girl's Night Out - ch. 2 pt. 3

friday|saturday|sunday

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

pairing: Ghost x shy!goth!f!reader

rating: E

summary: Oh Sunday, a day of endings. Everything is going so well until those pesky feelings get tangled and what has to happen, happens.

word count: 10.2k (bruh)

warning: mdni, not beta-read and barely edited, a truck-load of self doubt and issues from reader, size difference 💀, fingering, light d/s /praise/authority kink (idk what to exactly call it), mention of death of a parent, unprotected piv (she's explicitly on the pill tho), more domestic fluff, angst right at the end. a/n at the end!

Repeating my warning hear for all of the chapters, I have committed the ultimate, unforgivable sin in this: Ghost is maskless. So if that ruins it for you, sit this one out.

sunday

Simon was the one who woke you early the next morning. It was gentle and unintentional. The birds were singing outside, but the sun had not yet broken over the horizon. Your room was bathed in an intense blue that even your curtains couldn’t hold back. You had hardly noticed you weren’t dreaming as you felt his breath rustle through your hair and his hand trace over your shoulder in a circle. You let your hand fall against his left arm, outstretched into the middle of the bed. He had pulled you against his chest again, just like the first night. You ran your fingers over the flames between his tattoos, drinking in the warmth of his skin. You were so warm here, warm and protected and-

“Tell you about mine,” he whispered in his grumbly morning-voice, fingers now obviously tracing the outline of the skull and flowers on your shoulder blade, “if you tell me about yours.”

Oh.

Your hand stilled on his arm. His still traced their soothing pattern across your back. You should have felt the familiar pit form in your stomach, or your nerves begin to make you shake, but you didn’t. You blew out the breath you were holding. Maybe it was time to tell him.

“Don’t hav-” he started to say.

“Got it two years ago. For my dad,” you interrupted.

You felt his fingers trace over the round lines of the skull at the center of your tattoo: the empty eye sockets, the nasal openings, the neat row of teeth. You had started to do the same to the large skull in the middle of his forearm. You let out another shaking breath. You could feel the questions he wanted to ask, that he wished he could pull directly from the ink in your skin and not have to use his mouth to form stumbling human words to. Words were wrong, you felt. Unnecessary. You tapped your fingers on his inked skin. That’s why you always held them in until it was too late.

“He died five years ago. Cancer,” you whispered.

“Sorry,” he said pressing his lips to the back of your head.

You let out a shaky breath, willing yourself not to cry. “It’s okay,” you whispered, “It was- he went quick. No pain,” you added, voice cracking. Simple words that shouldn’t have been so painful. Still so painful.

His thumb smoothed over the banner that ran above and below the skull. You knew what he was going to ask before he opened his mouth.

“Wha’s this say?” he asked.

“Memento Mori,” you recited from memory.

“Latin?” he asked.

You nodded your head. “It’s an old saying: ‘Remember Death’. My dad loved philosophy, was always sending me books for my birthday,” you remembered wistfully, almost laughing. “It helped after he was gone to think about . . . everything like that.”

“Hows that?” he asked.

“That we all could die at any time. That all we have is this one life and in the end, we all end up the same.” You stroked the skull on his arm again, resting your hand against his wrist.

“What about the flowers?” he asked shuffling down to press his face into your neck.

“One for my mom, my step-mom, and my brother,” you said with a shiver as he kissed slowly down your neck.

“Which one’s which?” he said into the crook of your shoulder.

“The rose is for my step-mom. The sunflower is my mom’s. Their favorite flowers.” You sighed, wanting so desperately to turn around so you could kiss him, but his hand on your shoulder kept you in place.

“What about your brother?” he asked, “Make it sound like he didn’t get his favorite.”

You sighed, this time in annoyance. “He wouldn’t pick. Said he ‘didn’t have one’, so I asked his fiance and my mom to pick for him.”

“What’d they pick?” he asked running his fingers down the long stem of the unfamiliar flower.

“Lavender. It grows wild, like a weed almost, where he lives. His fiance said he refused to get rid of any of the plants in their yard when they moved into their house, that he would sit outside in the mornings after they bloomed, enjoying the smell. We all figured it’s his favorite, but he won’t admit to it.”

“Where’s he live?” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your spine.

“Washington state,” you said uneasily. You were unsure if he would ever notice your strange accent or other non-British quirks. He hadn’t said anything yet.

“You from there too?” he asked.

“No,” you said. You paused to refamiliarize your mouth with American English before you continued. “Grew up in Illinois.”

He laughed into your shoulder, pressing a kiss to the skull. You blushed. “Thought you sounded like an expat.” He slid his hand under your shirt and down your stomach to press you to him. You shivered against his hardening cock. “How’d y’ end up here?” he asked sinking his hand lower, past your panties. You were reminded that you had kicked your pants off in the night, too warm cuddled in Simon’s embrace.

You gasped as he split your folds apart, his fingers following close behind, pressing and circling your clit. He didn’t expect you to keep talking like this, did he? He only gave you a few flicks of his wrist before he stopped. He leaned in to whisper huskily in your ear.

“Hear me?”

You groaned, clenching on nothing, trying to collect your thoughts from the lustful haze he had drug you into. He was so fucking unfair sometimes and you hated that you loved it.

“Yeah,” you finally answered, “It’s . . . complicated.”

“Don’t mind that,” he said flatly, reaching his hand up to squish your breast. His hands were softer today, but the texture of his skin still tingled deliciously as he rolled your nipple in his fingers. “Tell me.”

You sighed, bucking back against him. “My dad’s from- was from England. He moved to the states for work. He was working for an international firm and they needed a lawyer in Chicago. He met my mom while she was working there too and everything went off from there. Marriage. Kids.” His hand lightly started to trace down to your body again. It made you tremble in anticipation. “When they got divorced he moved back here. Got remarried.” he breached your labia and started to circle your clit again. “Not much else to say,” you sighed, bowing into his hand.

“Yeah there is,” he said, his arm pulling your leg to rest over his, splaying you open for better access. He sent his hand lower to pump a finger into you. You let out a long moan as he did.

“W’as that?” you slurred, barely coherent.

“Why’d you leave?” he growled into your ear. The tone of his voice was sending you. “Grew up in the states. Whole family there.” he was pumping into you furiously. You gripped at his arm with both hands, face buried in the sheets. “Must’ve had a comfortable life. Why’d you go through all the trouble? Why leave ‘em behind?”

He hit your g-spot and you cried out, throwing your head back as you did. Simon took immediate advantage. He curled up his left arm to brace across your chest, holding you, arms and all, in place as he hit that spot again and again. You were crying out, trembling under his assault. Your head was empty of everything except the wild desire to cum. He bucked against your ass, groaning into your ear. His fingers squelched in your pussy with every movement. You were so close.

“Why?” he demanded loudly, almost angry.

“No one else would go!” you cried, slamming into your peak hard with a full body shudder, tears falling from your eyes.

Simon pulled his fingers from you when he felt your tears hit his skin. It was too late though. You were already over the edge, bowing against his back, trembling against him, sobbing as you worked through the weirdest, most emotional, orgasm you’d ever had. You buried your face in your hands after you let out your last sob, ecstasy washed from you and replaced with shame. You’d ruined it. You’d ruined everything.

“Hey,” he said softly. He sat up to loom over you, his hand petting at your side.

You didn’t want to look at him, but he rolled you onto your back and pulled your hands away. You didn’t fight him. He looked down at you sadly, a frown quirked across his mouth. He watched you wipe away your tears.

“Shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered.

“Don’t,” you said, meaning to sound soft but your rough throat made it aggressive.

You ran your hands up through your hair. You sat up too, leaning against the side of the window for support. You pulled your knees into your chest.

“You deserve to know. To hear everything.” You sighed as you let your shoulders rest flat against the window, spine straight. “My dad called me one night. Didn’t really say anything, just said he missed me, wanted me to fly out if I could. That’s how he was. I was in a weird place in my life,” you said with a small huff of a laugh. That was putting it very gently. “I wasn’t really doing anything important, so I took him up on it. I flew out the next day.” You swallowed hard as you thought how to phrase what you wanted to say next. “I knew something was wrong when I saw my stepmom was there to pick me up at the airport. Dad always wanted to be the first one to see me.” Your voice broke at the end, tears starting to blur your vision again. “He was gone two weeks later.” You tried to wipe them away. “Shouldn’t be crying over it still, after all these years.”

Simon pulled himself close. He was looking at you, close to you, not trying to touch you, just still. Cautious. Thinking. Planning. A frown was still cut into his face. “I-I was too hard with you. Pushed you. Shouldn’t have-” He bit his lip.

“I didn’t mind,” you confessed, wiping your eyes on the hem of your shirt. Simon was silent. You let out a breath. “I actually . . . I liked it,” you said in a whisper.

Simon finally moved, resting his back to wall on the other side of the window, rumpling the curtain. Light flooded his side of the room. He was quiet for a second. “What’d you mean?”

You took initiative, for once, and looked at him. His face was lit bright blue by the early morning sky. “I like it when you talk like that, when you’re fucking me,” you said looking up at him with your large, tear-rimmed eyes. When he didn’t respond, you looked away, laughing. “If that makes any sense,” you added.

“So, you get off when I’m mean to you?” he asked, suspicion dripping from his voice.

His crass phrasing made you smirk. “No, not mean,” you insisted, leaning forward. You searched for the right words and came up empty. “More like . . . dominant?”

“Commanding?” he added. You nodded. That was the perfect word, the one you had been searching for. He groaned, rolling back against the wall. He reached up and covered your hand on your knee with his. He ran his other hand over his face. “How’d I fuckin’ end up with a girl like you,” he mumbled into his hand.

You heard him and it made you blanche. “Is that . . . bad?” you asked.

He removed his hand from his face and looked at you. “Christ no. It’s just-” he said squeezing your hand with a small laugh, “That’s my job. Tellin’ men what to do, where to go. Spendin’ weeks barkin’ out orders ‘til my voice is shot. Figures it would bleed over.” The possibility of his voice being deeper and rougher than it was now certainly was something you needed to think on further.

He laughed a short little laugh and you joined him. His hand left your knee to pull around your shoulders. This was . . . good? You were hopeful.

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want,” you told him, “Just don’t feel bad if you get a little mean or rough. I can handle it.”

He laughed at that, that wide, wry smile spreading across his face. He quickly pivoted his body to slide his other arm under your legs. He scooped you up from the bed with a squeal.

“Oh love,” he said with a smile, “you don’t want to see me when I’m mean,” he said carrying you out to the living room.

He set you on the couch, wrapping you in the blanket, before wandering off to the kitchen without another word. You heard him dump the coffee grounds from yesterday in the trash and start a fresh pot. Then you heard him start to run the water in the sink, followed by dishes falling into the hot, soapy, water one by one.

“Don’t have to do the dishes yet!” you called, not wanting to move from your warm spot on the couch.

“Want to!” he yelled back, the sound of your silverware clinked into the drying rack over the water and his voice. “Besides, need something to fill the time waiting for the coffee.”

“I could make breakfast?” you asked, remembering how much he had liked your slap-dash egg on toast yesterday. If you had time, you could really pull out all the stops to impress him. Simon didn’t respond, probably set on his decision.

He came around the corner with two mugs of steaming coffee. “Don’t want you to move from there until you wake up, hear me?” he said handing you your cup.

“Okay,” you said taking it from him. You sipped at the black coffee, wincing a bit. “You know I have cream and sugar, right?”

Simon was pulling your curtains open, dawn having finally broken. He stood looking out at the empty street while you talked. “I don’t mind,” he said taking a long drink from his own cup.

You just stared at him. He had just told you that you were forbidden from getting up. You held your stare as you shuffled forward an inch, hopefully communicating your intentions. He understood your actions, quickly stepping over to snatch your cup from your hands.

“Thank you!” you called as he stalked back to the kitchen.

You heard the refrigerator open, then your ceramic sugar pot, followed by a quick, tinkling, stir. He was back before you could tell him how you wanted it. As he leaned down to set the warm cup back in your hands, you hopped up to peck him on the lips. He tried to cover up his sleepy smile by turning away, sipping his bitter coffee, but you saw it. You hid your own in your mug of now more palatable coffee.

He leaned against the window, letting you take up the couch. Nothing broke the silence between you while you followed his orders: drink your coffee and wake up. He must have spent the time as you did, thinking. You were wrapped up in plans for the day, which wasn’t much. With Simon here, you only had to put away your laundry and put fresh sheets on your bed. Not that you wanted to. You liked smelling him when you curled together at night. You had been right at the bar on Friday night. It wasn’t cologne or anything special that made him smell like that, it was just him. Even after spending two days surrounded by your laundry detergent and using your shower products.

You pressed your legs together as you buried your face in your coffee. Fuck, thinking of him was winding you up again. You were still painfully wet and horny from before. You had hoped he would fuck you this morning, but things had gone sideways. You sighed. You hazarded a look up and, yep, he was watching you. You quickly turned back to your coffee, about to take a sip but you were left staring at the bottom of the cup.

“Another?” he asked, still cooly leaning against the wall, the long line of his legs making him look so much taller. You nodded and he popped off to step toward you. You tried not to feel like jelly when your hands brushed as he took the cup from you. “Same?” he asked staring down at you.

“Yeah,” you answered weakly, hoping you sounded tired and not desperately turned on, “It was good, however you made it.”

He chuckled and walked away, leaving you to bury your hands in your lap trying to relieve the pressure. You distracted yourself by watching people begin to go about their lives outside: walking their dogs and children, dressed up people on their way to church.

The cup appeared next to your face, almost making you jump. You took it from him with shaking hands and a quick thanks. You took another drink as Simon took up post next to you, abandoning his position at the window. His hand came up to soothe over your shoulder. It was a simple, chaste, gesture, but it made you clench, blowing the steam off the top of your cup.

“Plans for the day?” he asked, hand still massaging over your shoulder and back.

“Yeah,” you said leaning into the strong press of his hand. He stopped and you blew out another relieved breath. “Gotta get the laundry folded and put away. Pick up the apartment.” Your stomach rolled as he kneeled down to your level, his arm curling around your waist.

“Dishes are done,” he said pulling himself closer to your face, lips brushing together. “Leaves the rest of the day.”

You pushed yourself the last centimeter together, shivering as your mouths met. You heard Simon’s cup clank against the floor, his free hand then coming up to cup your jaw. You gripped your cup in your lap, keening as he pressed his tongue into your mouth. You moaned pitifully as he pulled away too soon. Simon carefully took the cup from your lap, setting it on the floor besides his own, before letting you pull him back.

“Si,” you whimpered as he pulled away to breathe.

“Jus’ for a little bit, love,” he groaned, pulling your legs off the couch so your body could face him, “Gotta get our work done first.”

Our work. You whined at the thought of it as he pressed back in to kiss you. You untangled your legs from the blanket, kicking it to the floor so you could loop your knees around his waist. You thought he was going to push you away when you felt his hands on your knees, but he just groaned as he ran his hands up your bare legs to your hips. His thumb innocently rubbed against the lace border of your panties. You bucked pitifully as he did.

He pulled away and looked down. “You ain’t-” he said huskily, turning into a low groan as he saw how soaked you were. “Ain’t no way.” He pressed his thumb to your wet panties, slicking up from your leaking hole as you shuddered. “Jesus,” he groaned, “an’ you said I was easy.”

“Si!” you cried against his mouth, “Please!”

“Please what?” he questioned, his tone turning on a dime, breath hot against your face. He pressed two fingers cruelly hard against your clothed clit, making you shudder again.

“Please fuck me!” you cried, balling your hands in his shirt, all of your shyness melted away. “Want you to fuck me again. Need it.”

He claimed your mouth again, kissing you with a tenderness that mismatched with the rough pace of his hand. He locked the fingers of his free hand in the hair at the back of you head before pulling you away from his mouth.

“Tha’s what my girl wants, hmm?” he said breathlessly, voice hard. You were nodding, communicating all you could as he swirled your brain. You were laser focused on only one thing: my girl. He pressed your face back to his but refused to kiss you. “Then y’ gotta be good and get y’ work done after. Copy?”

“Copy,” you responded weakly. Fuck, you didn’t think you could sink any farther down into what he was doing to you, whatever it was called, but you loved it. You wanted it.

He hauled you up off the couch, spinning around and stomping off to your bed. A stripe of daylight still lit your bed where the Simon had moved the curtain. Simon dropped you on the mattress with seemly little care. You let out an oof as you landed.

“Okay?” he said shucking off his shirt.

You nodded as he stood in between your legs, walking up the bed on his knees to you. When he got there, he leaned down to pull your shirt off. He lay over you, giving in for a moment to make out with you before kissing down your body to you navel. He shuffled both of you legs to one side of his chest. When he got there, he sat up, pulling your underwear up off your hips, letting them slide agonizingly slow up your legs, before tossing them behind him.

He let your legs fall open, watching as the sticky, slick folds of your vagina opened as well. You’d thought you were brave before, but now you felt so scrutinized. You covered your face with your hands as Simon’s fingers stroked over you gently. You moaned as he circled your hole with those two thick fingers.

You let your hands fall away as you looked up at him. He wasn’t looking at you face. He was lost: blush lightly coloring his cheeks, pupils dilated to consume his brown irises, breathing raspy and uneven, he was entirely concentrated on your little hole clenching so nicely for him. It made you moan at how much he wanted you, and how much you wanted him.

“How’m I gonna fit in there?” he mumbled, pushing in just the tips of his fingers, swirling them around your slick, working the tight muscle open. Fuck, why was he choosing now to be so gentle?

“It’ll fit,” you sighed as he pushed his fingers in further.

Simon’s counter to your blissed out answer was to palm his cock against his briefs, emphasizing his size.

“Couldn’t before,” he grunted.

You knit your brows together in frustration and pushed yourself down against his fingers, driving them in deeper. Simon gasped as you did. You squelched as he scissored his fingers apart, slick running down his fingers.

“Make it fit,” you told him, voice hard and eyes serious as you humped against his hand, “Want all of you.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, locking eyes with you. The fingers of his other hand bit into your hip as he held you down.

He pulled out his two fingers briefly before returning with three, completely ignoring your pleasure to focus on working you open wide and deep. Not that you didn’t get anything from it. You fell into the rhythmic pump of his hand, filling you up before twisting away. He was punching little gasps out out you at the height of every thrust.

He leaned over you, giving in again to kiss you, letting you lock your arms around his neck. His stubble was longer today, pricking incessantly at your face. The thought of that stubble rubbing against your cunt as he ate you out shot like lightning through your mind. You were clenching around his fingers, stopping them from moving hardly at all, before you could stop yourself. He groaned against your mouth. He pushed his body up to slot evenly with you, splaying your legs open around him, allowing him to rut against you just once.

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me doin’ things like that, love. Y’ like it that much?” he whispered against your mouth.

“Yes, Si. Just-” you said, pawing at the back of his head. He stroked, almost intentionally, over your g-spot, just as you spoke, sending you shuddering silently back against the bed.

“What’s that love?” He asked, peppering slow kisses across your face, as he worked over that spot again and again and again.

“Si, please!” you managed to gasp out, fingers pulling at his short hair. You let out a long whine as he continued to stroke you open.

“Gettin’ y’ there, love, don’t worry. I’ll get you there,” he said sweet and low right in your ear. It made you want to sob. “Been so good f’ me so far. Lovely girl deserves to cum again, yeah?”

“-yeah,” you cried weakly, clutching him close to your face. Your head was swimming with delicious sparks again. He kissed at your top lip, parted as they were with your constant string of sighs and moans.

“Then cum f’ me,” he said rolling the rough pad of his thumb deliciously over your clit.

That was all you needed. You were shuddering up the bed as you came with a high-pitched gasp. Your thoughts were everywhere and nowhere at once, leaving your head floating and empty. Aware of nothing but what was present, nothing but what you felt against your skin. You bowed up against his torso, his hand not stopping as he worked you gently through your high.

“‘s a good girl,” he sighed against your neck, “So good f�� me.”

Fuck. That had you screwing your eyes shut even tighter and clenching around him again. He was going to be the death of you at this rate. Your hands clenched in his hair again. He chuckled, pulling his fingers from you. He gripped both your hips, pressing his thumbs into the dips above your pelvis.

“Ready?” he breathed across your lips.

“As I’ll ever be,” you said blankly back, eyes as glassy as his were dark.

With that, he pulled away, sitting back on his heels. He looked so beautiful in the morning light. That singular, golden stripe of light from the crack in your curtains, threw a line across his stomach, highlighting the divot of a long, vicious scar as well as the trail of delicate, dark gold hairs running down from his belly button. He looked down at you as he shucked off his briefs. You sighed at the sight of him, the tip was leaking strings where it knocked against his stomach. You were so fucking ready to have him inside you again.

Have him . . . inside you, you thought again, running your mind over the thought like a bump in the wood you knew shouldn’t be there. You shot upright, heart pounding. Simon reeled back, surprise and concern painted on his face.

“What-” all he could get out before you interrupted, wriggling off of the bed.

“Forgot to take my pill! Be right back!” you exclaimed dashing naked out of the room. You were back half a minute later, Simon was still sat where you left him. “Sorry,” you said sitting back down, swallowing hard behind your hand, trying to force the little pill down your throat, “Hope I didn’t ruin the mood.”

“No, not at all,” he said helping you slide back into place, his hands running up your legs, “Didn’t know. Would have reminded you.” Of course he would have, you thought blushing. “Should’ve asked you earlier, honestly,” he added, leaning down over you again.

“Not tryin’ to baby trap you, Si,” you sighed as he nuzzled against your jaw, stubble pricking you. He pressed a kiss over the red marks he left. “Don’t even like it when guys cum in me, anyway.”

“Really,” he said flatly, kissing the side of your mouth. “When’s the last time that happened?”

You blew out a long breath, thinking back five years. Simon leaned over on his arm and stared down at you as you talked.

“It was the first guy I was with when I moved here. I didn’t want anything serious, given . . . everything that had just happened and the chaos of my life. We were on again/off again, but I could tell he wanted more. I always got the icky feeling he wanted to knock me up so he could convince me to marry him.”

Simon raised his eyebrows at that, biting his lip. “Husband material,” he commented dryly.

“Glad I wised up and left him,” you said reaching over to run your hand over the blonde fuzz covering his jaw. He leaned into your hand, closing his eyes. “Told him a thousand times I didn’t want kids, but he never wanted to hear it,” you added lightly, almost as an afterthought.

His eyes opened, flashing to yours. “Same,” he said rolling his head to kiss at your palm, then, grabbing your hand with his, your wrist. His eyes never left yours.

He pivoted over to lay in between your legs again. He scooped up your face in both his hands, tipping your head back so he could kiss you deeply. You raked your hands down his chest, melting into his touch. When you broke apart, you both sighed. Simon stopped to look down the press of your bodies. Neither of you could ignore his cock anymore as he knocked against you, sliding through the obscene wetness that painted you from your navel to your thighs.

He caught a groan in his throat, closing his eyes at the sight. “Wanna fuck you so bad,” he said in a deep, strangled voice.

You stroked up his ribs soothingly until he opened his eyes to look down at you. You reached down, gently guiding his tip to rest at your entrance. The whole head popped in with no effort, causing him to jut forward with another strangled groan.

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me, y’ know that? Doin’ shit like that. Fuckin’-” He cut himself off as he smashed down you kiss you.

They were hungry, wild kisses, that ate your moans as he rutted himself deeper and deeper inside you. This was so entirely different from the first time you fucked. Different, but good. This wasn’t gentle, or just barely so. There had to be something left of his rational, human, brain still functioning right now as your slick coated his cock, sliding and stretching you open, that knew he had to stop if you showed any sign of pain. But there just wasn’t any pain. It was pure pleasure as his tip nailed that spot with every thrust and his thickness filled you better than anything or anyone ever had before.

He palmed at your hip as he broke away from you again. “Fuckin’ hell, love,” he said shifting just a bit more forward, his balls pressing against your ass. You could have gasped. It was all in. “Y’ fuckin’ did it,” he said proudly.

You smiled a stupid, blissed out smile up at him. The light from the window blinding you as it shone down across your chest and face.

“Had help,” you sighed out, not wanting him to forget all of the hard work he had just done.

He wasn’t one to rest on his laurels, apparently, as he was immediately shifting up on his knees, pulling you with him. He pressed his hand to your stomach, the butt of his palm just above your bikini line with fingers fanned out, reaching up over your belly button. He groaned as he pressed his hand down, slowly rutting into you at the same time, feeling himself inside you.

“Gonna fuck the shit outta y’,” he growled, keeping the same slow pace. He looked down at you. “‘s that what y’ want?”

You nodded, reaching for him. You wanted him wrapped in your arms again, breathing down your neck and kissing you as he gave you everything. He acquiesced to your silent plea, setting you down on the bed before leaning in to let you hold him. He kept one hand on your hip and the other slid up your neck to hold the back of your head. His fingers flexed against your scalp as he pressed in to kiss you. His cock followed right behind, driving into you slowly at first with his pace increasing as you squelched around him.

“Fuck love,” he broke away to say, every one of his thrusts punching out gasps and moans from you, “Doin’ so good f’ me. Such a good girl.”

“Si,” you sighed, head swirling as you clenched around him. You pulled him in to kiss you again. Good girl. It was pressing all the right buttons. His praise was your whole world right now.

“Fuck yeah, y’ like that?” he asked fucking into you at a brutal, even pace. “Like bein’ my good girl?”

“Yes,” you moaned out uncontrollably.

“Know you do,” he said leaning in to nip at your neck, making you gasp. “Not stupid. I feel y’ tighten up when I do. Can feel it right now,” he said slamming forward as you clenched again. “Gonna make yourself cum again if y’ keep doin’ that.”

You shuddered against him. Oh fuck, he was right. Even though he was absolutely railing you as hard as he possibly could, you were still on your way to your third orgasm today. And from what? His voice, just his praise?

He smoothed a hand over your forehead, grounding you. “D’ worry, love. I gotcha. Deserve something good after letting me fuck y’ like this, take this cock so well.”

“Si,” you moaned, brows pushed together, wishing you were like him and could string a coherent sentence together in the middle of sex. “I’m-”

“Close?” he correctly guessed. You nodded. “Want me t’ help?” You nodded again. “Nah, gotta say it, love,” he said in a teasing tone.

“Fuck, Si,” you moaned out, clenching your fingers in his hair as he happened to rut against your clit. “Help me, please. Please touch me.”

He placed a quick kiss across your lips before tearing himself away, leaving you sighing.

“‘s what my girl wants? Play with her pretty pussy so she can cum?” he said moving his hand from your hip to just above your sex.

That sent your head into another galaxy. You threw your head back, covering your mouth to muffle your loud moan from alerting the whole street you were getting the best sex of your life.

“Yes, Si, please,” you pleaded, tears pricking at your eyes.

He didn’t waste anytime. His thumb pressed into your slick, moving up and down your clit to the rhythm of his thrusts. It wasn’t fair, how good he made you feel, let alone how fast he made you cum every time. It also wasn’t fair that now he had rewired your brain, you needed him to say it before you let go.

“Si,” you begged, looking up at him with bleary eyes.

“What?” he said, cocking his head to the side, trying to reason out why you were crying.

“Tell me I can cum,” you whispered, embarrassed and blushing.

“Fuck,” Simon whispered harshly, his hips coming to a sudden stop. The room was filled with the harsh, haggard breathing from both of you. “Y’ fuckin’ serious?” he asked, almost angrily. You nodded, bucking your hips needily up and down his motionless cock, still desperate to cum. He pinned your hips down with both hands, stopping you. “Fuckin’ bust inside if y’ don’t stop that now.” he growled at you, jaw set.

It should have scared you, but your sick brain loved it. A red-hot wire of need plunged through you, quenching with a hiss as it touched every part of your body. The sudden turn from praise to punishment thrilled some dark part of you.

“Fuckin’ can’t even cum on her own. Gotta do it for ‘er,” he said licking his thumb, even though you knew he knew he didn’t need it. It was all for show. His thumb worked you hard and with precision, leaving you a babbling mess against the sheets. “Ready now?” he said rough and uncaring as he looked down at you. “This needy little cunt ready to cum?”

“-yes,” you sighed barely above a whisper.

“Then cum f’ me then,” he said through clenched teeth, his thumb pressing one last hard roll across your clit.

You bowed off the bed, flood gates to every positive emotion opening in your brain. You didn’t even hear yourself scream, though you know you did because Simon was immediately pressing his mouth to yours, saying something about waking the dead. His hands held your hips as you stuttered against his thrusts, wave after wave of pleasure lapping over you. If you’d thought you’d had the best orgasm of your life on Friday, you were dead wrong. This one left everything before in the dust. You felt yourself come back to reality as you lay flushed and sweaty against the sheets, chest heaving.

You looked up when your brain started functioning again. Simon was looking down at you like you were God’s perfect creation, put here just for him. He gently ran his hand up your ribs, nuzzling his nose against yours. You knew it was just the afterglow, but you felt so warm. So safe and protected in his arms. He pressed a light kiss to your lips. Like you would walk through hell to have this heaven with him.

“Not much longer, love,” he said, slowly pumping into you again. “Did fuckin’ good. So fuckin’ good f’ me.”

You nodded weakly at him, content to lay back and let him do as he pleased. He had given you so much already, had worked so hard, waited so long. He grunted and sighed with every slow thrust. You could feel how soft and pliant you were now, giving him everything he wanted.

“Lookit me,” he said suddenly, forcing your eyes up as he curled his hand around the back of your neck again. He leaned in and sighed against your lips. “Wanna cum while ‘m kissing you.”

You clenched, nodding as he pressed his tongue to yours. The thrusts of both his hips and tongue dissolving into slow, languid pumps. His thumb traced your jaw, following the movements of your mouth.

“‘s too fucking good,” he said resting his forehead to yours, eyes shut and breathing ragged.

Memento Mori, you wanted to remind him. All things must pass. To all things, an end. Even this thing: the little death.

He pressed forward again, cock squelching inside you. “Y’ ready?” he asked, having made peace with his impending orgasm while you had been waxing philosophical.

You nodded. He did as he said he wanted, giving you his last desperate thrusts while sucking on your tongue. He pulled from you with a cry, the white ring you’d left around his cock making you clench around nothing as he wrapped his hand around himself, working himself with your slick. He shut his eyes as he released on you, painting stripes up to your neck with every pump. You thought he was going to fall over when he opened his eyes as saw what he’d done to you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he said falling forward onto his hands, including the one covered in cum. He lifted it up almost immediately. “Shit. Sorry.”

You laughed, light and blissful. “‘s okay,” you said borrowing his phrase. “Changing the sheets today, remember?”

He let himself fall down onto the mattress next to you, rolling over onto his back. You watched him close his eyes as a sweet smile took over his face. He turned his face away, but you saw the edges of his mouth curl up, a faint scar above his lip catching in the light. He was so beautiful like this, light shining through his hair in a blonde halo. It made your heart catch. You loved watching him, loved that he was comfortable around you, loved him. You loved him.

Fuck. You pressed a hand to your mouth. No. No. No. No. No. This was not happening. Not with a one night stand, a random guy, a hook up from a club.

But he wasn’t those things, a terrible part of yourself tried to tell you. You’ve spent three days with him. He’s nice. He cares about you. You know him now.

But did you? Did you really? Or were you both just pretending?

Simon broke your train of thought by sitting up, pulling himself across the mattress with his legs.

“Shower?” He offered kindly, standing over you.

“Yeah . . .” you answered awkwardly, sitting up as well. You sat on the edge of the bed for a minute collecting yourself, still shocked from your revelation. Simon was waiting patiently. “You can go if you want,” you told him, brain not fully caught up. You wanted to take back the words as soon as they left your mouth. “Start the shower, I mean!” you said shocked, looking up at him. Oh god, how had you gone so wrong so fast? “Give me a minute. I’ll be in.”

He nodded and walked away without a word. Somehow, that hurt more. You slumped over to rest your head in your hands. You waited to hear the water running before you stood up. It stung where his drying cum pulled at your skin.

Simon was nice in the shower, showing no sign that what you’d said had bothered him. He was content to wash your body for you again, seeming to get some little enjoyment from washing himself from you. He let you step away to wash your hair while he shaved with your borrowed razor. It impressed you how he could do such a good job, not missing any spots, without a mirror. Must be years of practice, years of having to get by while deployed.

You left the shower first, wanting to get get dressed, in real clothes today, before making breakfast. You toweled off your hair while you stood naked in your bedroom, looking between your closet and wardrobe. You really wanted to wear something cute, something impressive to make up for slubbing around all day yesterday in sweats and an oversized t shirt. The problem was that it was still so cold in your apartment.

You leafed through your skirts and pants. Nothing jumped out at you. Your dresses were all too short, or at least you thought until you doubled back to figure out what you had passed that felt so squishy and comfortable. You thought you had put a sweater in the wrong place, but no, it was a slouchy knit dress. You pulled it out and pressed it against your body. It fell to the middle of your thighs. That would work. You quickly threw on your underwear and a pair of tights. The dress, with an extra pair of socks pulled up over your knees, was super warm even as it fell off your shoulders. A set of tiered necklaces completed the look to your satisfaction.

You were putting on your makeup by leaning rather awkwardly against the long mirror in your room, when Simon left the bathroom to collect his clothes. You caught his eye for a second in the mirror before he looked away.

“I’ll wash your clothes for you, if you want,” you offered, pressing your lips together to smooth out your lipgloss. You thought it was a better option than lipstick, considering what happened last time.

He nodded, tossing everything except for his briefs, which he put back on, into the laundry bin. He moved on to your bed next, pulling the sheets and blankets off.

“You’ll have to run down,” he said as the sheets hit the bin with a soft whump. “In no state to be running around like this,” he added, gesturing to his several days old underwear.

You pulled your eyeliner pencil away from your eye just in time to laugh. “Think you’d give the old lady across the hall a heart attack,” you told him returning to finish lining the bottom of your eye.

“The one with the little white dog?” he asked.

You pulled the pencil away again to stare at him in the mirror, which he didn’t meet, then turned to look at him face-to-face. “How . . . when?” you asked. You were pretty sure he had never ran into her.

“Was walkin’ her dog this mornin’ when we were . . . busy on the couch,” he said flatly, clearing his throat and crossing his arms.

You turned away to look at the pencil shaking in your hand. Oh god, no. How fucking embarrassing. You were able to cap it before you threw it into your makeup bag, giving up on finishing that last bit. You decided that you would make breakfast first and then face any of your neighbors that had seen or heard you and Simon for the past three days.

Simon had already left the room. He was pulling a hoodie from where it was doubled inside his coat. He pulled it on over his bare torso, zipping it up before he turned around, phone in his hand. The screen lit his face a cold blue, catching the hollows of his eyes in a macabre way as he stared at it blankly. You decided to not bother him, even as a pit twisted in your stomach, and headed into the kitchen.

You were almost done with the two cheese and spinach omelets when Simon leaned in the kitchen, phone still in hand.

“Your friends’ve been tryin’ t’ contact you. Let ‘em know you’re alive,” he said before clicking it shut.

You slid the omelets onto the waiting plates with a sigh. Simon took them off the counter for you. He sat down to eat, digging right in if you could guess from the fork scraping, while you went to the pocket of your jacket you wore on Friday night to find your abandoned phone. It felt weird that you hadn’t thought all this time to check it, totally absorbed with- You stopped yourself. You dug around and found it eventually. You were lucky it still had battery.

Your eyes widened when you opened your phone. 50 text messages. 10 missed calls. You groaned and wandered back to the table. You threw your phone down next to your cold coffee, deciding to eat before you got into it with your friends.

“Okay?” Simon asked, cutting into his half-finished omelet. Good god, that man could inhale the food. You were already out of eggs because of him.

“I don’t know,” you said breaking off a fluffy corner with your fork, steam, spinach and cheese running out. “I think my friends are overreacting a bit,” you said sliding your phone over to him as you took a bite. You’d done pretty good, if you could pat yourself on the back.

Simon tapped on your screen. A small chuckle escaping from his full mouth as he saw the amount of texts and calls. “Should still let’em know I didn’t kill you,” he said sliding it back to you.

Your eyebrows knit together as you looked at him. “Why-” was all you could get out.

“Soap,” he said stopping to scrape up the last bits of food from his plate, “n’ Gaz’ve been ridin’ my ass about it too.” He put his fork down on his plate, leaning back with a contented sigh. “‘s damn good, love.”

You opened your phone and mentally prepared yourself to open your messages. It felt better, having Simon here with you, for some reason. Only five or so texts were from your friend’s cousin, and they weren’t overly dramatic or pushy. Simple questions scattered over several hours and days. Where did you go? Are you alright? Will you call me back?

You other friend had gone fully nuclear. From early early on Saturday morning to a few hours ago she had sent batches of texts. WHERE ARE YOU????? ARE YOU DEAD? CALL ME NOW. IM CALLING THE POLICE. IF THAT GUY FUCKING HURT YOU I’LL KILL HIM AND HIS FRIENDS. That was followed by several unanswered calls. You covered your face as you scrolled through her one-sided argument she had with herself in your messages.

“I think my friend wants to murder you,” you said looking sheepishly over your phone. Simon shrugged as he sipped his coffee. You began to tap out a simple reply, just so she would know that, yes, you were alive and could chill out, when a call buzzed through. It was her. It scared you too much to pick up on the first ring, but you managed to hit the button with your shaking hands on the second.

“H-” was all you could breath out before your friend let loose in your ear.

“OH MY GOD,” she screamed. You thought you heard feet hit the floor somewhere behind her. “I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD FOR TWO DAYS. TWO. DAYS.”

“I’m okay!” you shouted, trying to get through to her.

“Where are you? Did that guy do anything to you?” you could hear her pacing around her apartment, her kitchen if you could guess by the tile under her feet.

“I’m at my place! Don’t worry!” you said with a huff. I’m an adult. I’m fine. Leave me alone, is what you really wanted to say.

“Did he hurt you?” she asked sternly. You could tell her jaw was clenched.

“No!” you said cutting another piece of your omelet, still very hungry. “I’m not hurt, or dead, or anything. I just want to eat my breakfast! Can I please do that?” you said trying to close the call.

She sighed on the other end. Another voice was talking in the background. The TV? “Okay,” she said, finally deflating her anger. You could hear she was still tapping her foot against the tile though. “But you call me back later, okay? When you can? I want to talk to you. Actually talk.”

You rolled your eyes, agreeing with her, tacking on a quick goodbye before hanging up. You set down your phone and tore into your food before it could go cold. Simon watched you while he sipped on his coffee.

“That went well,” he commented.

“Better than I expected,” you said stabbing at the last few broken chunks of egg. You sighed, tapping the tines of your fork on the plate before you just set it down. “I’ll run your clothes down.”

You managed to run into not one, not two, but three of your neighbors while you ran back and forth washing and drying Simon’s clothes. The college student who lived above you was switching over her wash when you first went down to the basement. She, thankfully, was too absorbed in her phone to notice the obvious men’s clothing you were throwing in the washing machine. The second was the man who lived behind you. He’s a nice guy in his 30’s or 40’s who you’ve talked to once the whole time you’ve lived here. You were walking up the stairs after switching over your load to the dryer while he was on his way down with his own full basket. He asked you if there was a machine open, which you told him there was before bolting to your door. The third, of course, was the old woman with the white dog across the hall. She was leaving with her dog for another walk when you came back with the laundry. She smiled and waved at you, which you returned while trying to keep from turning to dust at the thought of her getting an eye full of Simon fingering you through your open window.

You felt that the longest hour and a half of your life had passed by the time you came back with the cleaned and dried laundry. You just wanted to wrap yourself up in your blanket on the couch and try to forget you had work in the morning, but Simon had tasks for you. And, you remembered, you had promised him you would get everything done.

Not that he had been idle while you were out. Simon had done the cleaning and tidying you had pushed off all week: the blankets were folded on your couch, your shoes were put away in the front hall, your books had been restacked in the window. He was mopping when you came in the door with the laundry basket. He had picked you up in the hall, basket and all, and brought you over the wet part of the floor, sweetly setting you in your bedroom. You were surprised to see Simon had put the fresh set of sheets on the bed and made it up as well.

You sat down on the side of your freshly made bed to fold your clothes and tried not to stare at him while he dressed. He sat down at the foot of the bed when he was done. The space in between the two of you was filled with a pyramid of balled up socks, piles of underwear, and a growing stack of clothes to hang.

“Need help?” he asked, trying to sit casually. His fingers were tapping nervously on the inside of his knee. He really did need something to keep his mind busy. “Got everything else done.”

“Thanks for that,” you said folding a t shirt. You threw it on the t shirt pile after you were done. You looked over your bins of laundry and piles on your bed with a sigh. “Just this is left.”

“And it’s almost two,” he said looking at his phone for the time. Before you could say anything he had already put together a plan. “You fold,” he insisted. “Just show me where it all goes and I’ll put away.”

“I really should make a little lunch. I didn’t realize how late it was getting.” The word late haunted you as soon as you said it. The clock was ticking ticking ticking now. Stop, you told yourself. You stood up and pulled out the top drawer of your dresser to show him what was inside. “This is underwear, socks, and . . . stuff,” you said floundering your hand at the miscellaneous tights and underthings you crammed in that drawer. “Just get started on that and I’ll make lunch.”

“Copy,” he said with a nod.

Lunch was nothing special. You gave Simon the last piece of reheated lasagna and you made a salad with whatever vegetables you had left in the fridge on top of what was left of your mixed greens. He had gotten most of the clothes put away in that drawer by the time you called him over. It was another silent meal. You both spent the time watching the rain pick up. The sun was falling fast behind the gray clouds. For every bit of light you lost, your heart sank.

Simon, of course, insisted on doing the dishes again when you finished. You went back to folding, finishing the bins before he got back. It felt like he had taken longer than before, but you couldn’t find a reason to care. He went right back to loading your socks into the drawer, holding near five pairs at a time in his hand while doing so. You could have stood there and stared at his hands for the rest of the afternoon, but you shook your head and got back to work. You busied yourself with hanging things in your wardrobe. You felt that maybe, if you mostly had your back turned to him, he wouldn’t distract you and you would slowly stop thinking about him. Then, when the time came, it would be easier.

“You read all those books you have in the window?” he asked while delicately layering your panties in the drawer.

“Ah, yeah,” you answered, staring at the inside of your wardrobe, unsure how much of a conversation he wanted to start. “It’s what I do in my freetime.”

“Read and cook,” he stated flatly.

“I know,” you said with a little laugh, “I have a very exciting life.”

“What’s the last one you read?” he asked, opening the next drawer. It was filled with t shirts and pj’s.

You bit your lip. “The one on top,” you said trying not to sound boring, because you knew exactly what you favorite book looked like: it’s black paperback cover beat and bent until the white paper underneath was showing through, it’s pages dog-eared, highlighted and re-highlighted, your own comments penciled in the margins.

“Meditations?” he said, surprising you that he remembered the title.

“Yeah, more like re-read, though. Not sure if that counts,” you said turning to collect the last armful of clothes to hang. Simon caught your eye as he closed the drawer. Amazing how he could pin you with his eyes even crouched on the floor. He stood up. It felt so weird to see him in clothes at this point. He felt so much bigger and taller.

“Suppose that’s up to you, book-reader,” he answered lightly ribbing you. His eyes were raking over you again. You turned around and quickly hung up what you had in your hands, not really caring if it was in the right spot. You just didn’t want him to see you blushing.

“Work’s done!” you said, trying to sound happy, as you turned back to face him.

Simon didn’t look happy. He’d crossed his arms over his chest, looking so much wider with the hoodie on. His face was hard and neutral, but there was a silent, dour energy to his eyes as they flicked from the floor to your face. He nodded, his head wandering to look over his shoulder to the door.

“Nothing left to do, and it’s gettin’ late,” he said, eyes still on the door. “Rainin’ too.”

You inhaled sharply. Oh. Oh no. Oh this was happening now.

“Yeah,” you answered weakly, heart beating hard, “I have-”

“Work in the morning?” he completed your sentence for you, shuffling his phone in his back pocket, looking behind himself. You nodded, watching him swallow hard.

“Early,” you whispered.

You felt your blood slow, pooling in your feet, pounding ominous and slow in your ears. No. This was not happening already. No, no, no, no, no- You concentrate on your fingernails digging into your palm and it breaks you out of your spiral. You watch your hand gesture for him to lead you out of the bedroom. It’s your arm, but not your action.

A gust of wind drove a spatter of rain against your window as you walk behind him through the living room. Darkness had fully fallen, the street lights pouring down their fuzzy yellow light once again. You keep it together while he kneels to lace up his boots. You couldn’t be messy and clingy right now, not after how well you’ve done all weekend. You can’t break down babbling about how much you love him and want him to stay, please stay if you want, please you’ve never felt like this about anyone else before and it makes you want to cry.

He stood there staring at you as he zipped up his jacket. It was a quick, sudden sound. Something that had sounded so much like an exciting new beginning, of taking off the layers that separated your warm skin from each other, of breaking down and rebuilding three days ago now sounds like only one thing: Finality. Packed up. Put away. Done.

You wondered if you should say something, anything as his hand closed around the doorknob, but you don’t.

“Bye,” he said with a nod, turning the handle.

“Bye,” you said back with a shiver. You wrapped your arms around yourself for warmth. As he stepped into the hallway you added, “Stay safe.”

He nodded again, not looking back, as your heavy metal door slammed closed behind him. You reached out on instinct to click it the last bit closed. You felt the vibrations in your hand as the outer door did the same. And with that, he was gone.

Gone.

You fell forward into the door, cold metal sending goosebumps up your arms. The cold shock as you press your forehead to the door temporarily keeps your tears at bay. You close your eyes as you let out a shaking breath. This is . . . fine. You’ll be okay, you lie to yourself. You let out the breath and open your eyes. You watch your tears spatter against the clean floor until your vision blurs.

You should feel pathetic as your knees hit the floor. You’re practically begging here, crying in front of your door, wishing and waiting for him to come back. You want him to walk back in the door, sweep you up in his strong arms, kissing away your tears and murmuring apology after apology. You cover your face as you let out a sob. You want to curl under the blankets on the couch with him. You want to chase him out of the kitchen while you cook again. You want to share the same stream of water in the shower. You don’t even try to wipe your tears away as you fall back against the wall, head thunking against the plaster. You just want to fall asleep to the sound of his breathing, to the rhythm of his heart beat, warm and protected in his arms.

But that’s never going to happen again. He’s left. No number. Just gone. Just a name.

He’s gone.

a/n: WOW OKAY IM SORRY FOR MAKING IT SAD. I honestly had this all planned before . . . you know what happened ;_; Watch out for a poll about chapter three in a day or two!

#starry writes #mw2 #ghost/reader #call of duty #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #yes i've made reader's life just so fucking sad take my computer away from me please

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