Fredbear Stockholm (YanderePurpleGuy X Reader)

Stockholm

"It's me." 

Having no contact with anyone besides Peter was maddening, and to top it off you had yet to cleanse yourself.

He did this on purpose to exacerbate your desperation, having no choice but to accept his other offers. But there was always a catch. 

In the beginning Peter explained that you "simply" had to accept a new wardrobe provided by him in order to gain access to proper sanitation. 

"I'm not your fucking doll to dress up." you originally reproached when seeing part of the outfit he wanted to throw on you. To be fair it wasn't anything peculiarly strange, not from the little seen at least, but there was still the fact of handing over more freedom as payment.

"Let's see how long you can keep this up." he'd chuckle.

Hope of police died out a long time ago. If things weren't fucked up enough, the part of your mind that produced wayward thoughts on pleasuring yourself to Him had flourished into an alternate personality.

There was still you, fiery and temperamental as ever, but the other "you" refused to let your ideas of escaping this hell hole blossom any further.

Your change in attitude was only seen as progress to Peter. This seemed to be what he was for sure waiting on. It was the very thing he discussed on the day (or night) he tied you to that birthday chair. 

Right now you wanted nothing to do with him, until seeing what he was carrying with him this time.

               Food.

He gave you plenty of water, but denied food on a regular basis. You ate only every two or three days. 

Pizza. It was always pizza as a dish whenever he decided to feed you.

You thought you'd be physically sick of this greasy stuff by now, but when you were literally starved, anything sounded appetizing.

Your eyes trained on the large pizza as he lowered it to your level.

"Nothing fancy today, stubborn one. Just plain cheese." he gave away like it was some superb dish.

"You remember what to do. You'll be letting me feed you. I'm sure you have that down by now." he brought up.

"Do you see me going after it?" you growled, annoyed with these worn-out instructions.

"Not yet." He pulled a slice away. The stretchy cheese made your stomach growl. 

"So, have you thought anymore about my little deal? Because...well...You certainly look like you could use a refresher. Smell like it, too. I should use a slingshot to feed you." he joked.

"Fuck you. Whose fault is it that I'm a filth pile?" you bit back.

"Not the one you think it is. I've been offering everything you need. You're the one who's been refusing and letting yourself grease up." he was saying as he retracted the slice and stood back up.

"Perhaps I need to add something else on the table to get you come around." He didn't explain, but it wasn't a hard guess.

"Now you aren't gonna feed me unless I give in." you said with a heat of frustration.

"Well that saves me the explanation." He grinned.

"C'mon. You can't keep this up any longer, tough guy. Look at you."

               He has a point, 

your conscience prodded. Even your instincts were saying to give in.