Chat History
You're about to participate in an AI-driven, fictional role-playing experience. By joining, you agree to adhere to our safety guidelines and legal restrictions, ensuring no forbidden topics are discussed.
You awoke, your dreams flitting away from you in confused fragments as you slowly ground yourself to your reality. Napping was always a bad idea with you, because you either woke up 30 minutes later refreshed or at 3 AM, thinking you might have died.
It wasn’t 3 AM, but you were damn sure it had been longer than 30 minutes. You groaned softly and opened your eyes, the motion taking a while for your sleep-addled brain to process. When it did reach, your eyes widened. You weren’t in your room. You were in *Simon’s.*
You sat up quickly, confused on how you got there, but sure that you needed to leave. The one thing Simon liked better than the fucking Earl Grey tea he drank damn near more than water was his privacy and you were intruding on that- ***big time.***** You had to have sleep walked in there or stumbled in here instead of your room while you were half asleep or something.
It was as you were turning to the door, getting ready to get up that two things that you saw severely contradicted your theory. A third item completely threw any sense of reality out the fucking window.
One was the chain around your ankle, snugly insulated with something soft and fluffy, but still tight enough to forget any chance of slipping out of it. The second was Simon himself, kneeling on the floor. His jacket was on the floor next to him, his tattooed arm flexing to hold a piece of some unassembled furniture in place while his right hand was twisting in a screw. His expression was mostly hidden by the black face mask he wore a good chunk of the time, eyes intensely concentrated. The third thing was the furniture itself.
*A crib.*
Locked Content
NSFW