A/N: Hey there my beloved readers! This is a collaboration with TeamAlphaQ!(Mostly Q) I highly recommend that you check out their Fanfics!
Q: You are shameless. Just so everyone is aware, Mundie here wrote the smut. I wrote a lot of everything else.
Mundie: Love yalls! But I wrote most of this. (You know it'll happen.)
Q:(liar… I think) Enjoy!
"I'm sorry..." he says as he lets go, his fingers slip through mine, screams fill the air, rising like smoke, dark and burning, churning and getting louder, it fills every aspect, the world burning away, everything-
"Wake up, you're doing it again."
I'm confused as I wake up. I feel that terror that had always haunted me grip my mind once more. I am alone. Then I feel something around my waist... Puppet had wrapped his arms around me and draws me to him like I was a teddy bear. I don't protest. No point to it because he always wins anyway.
"It's okay, you know, I won't ever leave you behind." Puppet mutters, his breath tickling my ear.
I feel another fearful shiver wrack my body. I try to curl in on myself, but The Puppeteer's arms won't allow me to. "I know. It's just I-I-"
His laugh is warm against my bare neck. "You can relax, Painter. I would never lie to you."
He slowly moves his hands to my back, lessening the distance between us with a kiss, the warmth of his body wrapped around mine, holding me tight.
-Lemony goodness entails-
He starts to move his hands, they set across my chest, setting off fireworks wherever they touch, releasing a gentle moan from my parted lips, the same lips his own were now attacking, as would two clashing armies, in a struggle for dominance, a battle which, even though I was never the victor, I still found highly enjoyable. His hands flutter over my stomach, going lower, hooking the waistline of my boxers, dragging them down, exposing the sensitive organ below, now hard, aching with need. He slowly runs his fingers down my sensitive shaft, teasing me, enjoying my moans.
He slips two fingers down to my hole, slowly sliding in the first, then the second, twisting then spreading them, stretching me, preparing me for what was soon to replace them.
"J-just get it over with..."
"Beg for what you want," he whispers, kissing my neck. "Then you can have your reward..."
"Put it... Inside of me..."
"As you wish..." He slides his member in slowly, first the head, then he stops, allowing me time to stretch to fit his girth, then pushing in slowly, as he did on our first night, eliciting a moan from us both. He pulls partway out, then eases back in, repeating this slowly, my moans stirring the morning air. He goes faster, his hips grinding into my own. I dig my nails into his back, groaning as he hits my prostate. He starts to go faster, harder, slamming my prostate, driving us both closer to the inevitability of a climax.
Our bodies are joined as one, he slams into me, the pain being driven out by a blinding pleasure brought out by passion. His hips grind into my own, the pleasure grows more intense. As I reach my climax, all I see is white, he drives deep into me, emptying his seed as my walls tighten around his rod, drawing out each drop.
He kisses me, slowly trailing from my stomach, pausing to suckle my neck, and finally reaching my lips. I was his puppet, he the puppeteer. I was always puddy in his hands.
"Come on... We need to wash up."
"Just a few more minutes," he wraps his arms around my waist. "I'd like to spend some more 'quality time' with my little painter."
-Lemony goodness ends-
We walk down to the kitchen, ignoring Jeff's muttered swearing and Ben's laughter. Jeff has once again attempted to cook what appears to be charcoal. Thankfully, Slendy has made...pancakes. Perfectly normal-
"SLENDY!" Toby wails at the ceiling from behind us. "You promised me waffles! How could you?" He sounds like he is on the edge of a nervous breakdown.
I turn to Toby and glare at him. "Shut up, for god's sake. It's like, seven in the morning, don't bring the house down."
Thankfully, Clockwork steps through the door and smacks Ticci Toby upside the head, hard. "Painter is right. Shut the fuck up and just eat the pancakes. They won't kill you."
"They might! You never know with pancakes. They look so innocent.."
Puppet pulls me away from Toby's musings and sits me down at the breakfast table. Ben nudges me. "So...Masky said he heard some," He waggles his eyebrows. "Noises coming from your room this morning. Anything to declare, Painter?"
"I hate you." I mutter. Ben and Jeff look at each other and struggle to keep in their laughter.
"Food." The Puppeteer slides into the chair next to me and casually scoots it closer until our shoulders are touching. He places a plate before me. I am all too aware of Clockwork's and Toby's raised eyebrows as they sit down to notice the food.
"Well," Jeff announces after a minute of awkward silence. "I have to leave early today."
The puppeteer glances at me sadly, then rises as well. "I should probably get going too. I have a lot of work to do if I want to make Slendy's deadline" He pats my head softly, then is gone.
Quiet giggles from all present ensue from this public show of affection. "Shut up." I rise as well, determined to leave early and not explode in front of these people. I am out the door five minutes later, even before Puppet. I tear through the woods, my knife in one hand and a paintbrush in the other. Why does everyone have to be so cruel? Why will nobody leave me alone? The scenery goes black as the house spits me out into the middle of a very different forest. This one is manicured to perfection. It's clearly decorative, because no real forest can be this clear of everything! I can't wait to kill these people. The house is white and monstrous, but thankfully not hard to get into. I sneak in through the kitchen door and into the dining room. I stop sneaking at this point, because I really want to kill the people here, where there is a proper wall with proper emptiness to it.
With an insane laugh, I bring the hilt of my knife down on the table. The resounding crack is deeply satisfying.
Almost immediately, a boy of about seven comes down, trembling, holding a baseball bat.
"G-go away or...I'll beat you up!" The little boy is trying to scare me... How cute.
"Well, well... How about we play a game?" I ask in a silky whisper. "We can draw a picture, and you be a good boy and drop the bat..." I walk slowly and steadily over to him. "But if you make so much as a SOUND... Mommy and Daddy get a...special...wake-up call."
Thankfully, he screams loudly. It saves me the trouble of finding his parents. Come one, come all, to my wonderful canvas. My knife swiftly flies to the boy's neck, slicing through his delicate vocal cords, almost splattering my 'canvas.'
"Henry? Are you al- OH MY GOD! BOB, COME QUICK! GET A GUN!"
I cackle and take swift steps to where she stands. My blade sings as it cuts through the air and splits her head open. She falls to the ground, slowly collapsing into death's arms as her eyes fade. Her gurgling stops after a few minutes.
I drag her corpse to the wall, ready to begin even without her husband's body. He can come later. I dip my brush into her skull and slowly mix her brain into a grey paste. Then I delicately draw the brush over the wall, humming to myself as I began to paint the first thing that comes to mind: the Puppeteer's favorite puppet. I'm slightly sentimental that way. I use the boy's quickly pooling blood to add some depth to the hair and face. Footsteps break my artistic mood.
"YOU BASTARD! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" Bob stands at the base of the staircase behind me, gun pointed shakily at my face. Even as I watch, it lists to the side, almost like it's too heavy for him to hold.
Even this close, the chances of you actually hitting me are like zero. I cackle and wave my arms. "Shoot me if you dare, because I doubt you'll get another chance."
Bang!
I duck and throw my knife at the man with deadly accuracy. He falls to the floor with a resounding thud.
The hardest part is dragging him over. He has to weigh over two hundred pounds. The painting itself is enjoyable. Once finished with my gruesome masterpiece, I sign it with a flowing hand and a signature smiley face. On the other wall, I write, They're all liars. This is one thing no one can ever lie about. I step back and feel my stomach rumble. Once again, I have missed lunch. Once again, I don't care. Good art is worth a lot of sacrifice. As thin predawn rays ghost over the walls, I decide I have done all I can.
As I tear back through the woods looking for the mansion's presence, I leave my mind to wander. It falls almost instantly on the Puppeteer. He's always on my mind, no matter where I am. He's just perfect like that. Faithful, intelligent, kind, a bit of a prankster, but he always comes through in the end. He never lies to me. Ever.
A/N: Hope you liked this chapter! More to come soon!
Q: I just hope I can maintain blissful ignorance of the smut for that long...
Mundie: SHUT UP. Now where was I? Oh yeah. Have a muffintastic day everybody! And for the record, I WAS RIGHT!
Q: Fine… Don't forget toasteriffic.
Mundie: SHUT UP!
Warning, fanfics from mundie may cause extreme desire for kitten ownership. Buy the kitten. Buy the kitten. BUY THE FUCKING KITTEN!