#steve raglan x oc

[peachymilkandcream]

Movie!William Afton x Wife!Reader -> Scrapped

(A/N: Future Afton oneshots are going to be strictly x Reader, so we'll see how much you guys like this one. As usual this is spoilers for the movie so proceed with a bit of a caution)

WARNINGS: mentions of noncon, dubcon, violence, domestic violence, age difference, power dynamic, murder, yandere behaviour, yandere themes, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, descriptions of gore

==============================================

Agony, all that he could feel was pure agony, the metal digging into his flesh was beyond anything he ever thought he could endure. It had all gone wrong, it had gone so wrong. It was never supposed to be this way, he was better than this, a genius among men. Reduced to a hunk of flesh and wires. Springlocks pierced his skin, down to the bone as that stupid old suit turned against him. It had served him so well in the past, and now all of his sins had come back to bite him in the ass. He was going to die here, all of his schemes and success amounting to nothing.

At least that's what William believed until he heard the sound of crunching glass as footsteps came nearer, someone was in that accursed place with him. It didn't sound like an animatronic, it couldn't be. He didn't have the strength to call out, he didn't have the strength to do anything but lie there.

"William? William!" The voice was feminine, scared, he recognized it as his wife.

His voice couldn't get out, he was weak, so weak, barely holding on at this point. All he could focus on was the pain, he didn't even notice the steps coming closer until his wife stood in front of him, concern painted on her whole face.

"Oh my- William- what happened!? There's so much blood- oh what should I do-"

William reached for her, his costumed hand desperate to touch, to hold her, his one true comfort. After all he had done, he just needed her to save him once again, that was her job, she was supposed to save him whenever he required it, take the fall for his mistakes.

She removed the mask from his head, her hands trembling s she held his cheek gently, tears coming to her eyes, both of sorrow that he was in this state and joy that she had found him before it was too late. "I'll get you out of here my love, I promise. Just hold on a little longer for me." His wife stood, running around the back room like a chicken with her head cut off trying to find a solution and save her husband.

Eventually she returns with spare tablecloths, laying them on the ground. "Alright honey, I'm going to put you on this to drag you to the car, just bear with me, this might hurt." With all the strength her smaller body can muster she lifts him onto the cloth, trying to be as gentle as possible but each movement digs the metal deeper into him. Until finally she gets him on the cloths, taking the extra and dragging him with all her might. He was heavy, but the fabric made it easier to drag him across the tiled floor and outside.

============================================

Somehow she had gotten him into the car, focused on the road but taking a moment every once and a while to glance in the rearview mirror. Her feelings were conflicted about all of this, up until she hadn't known of his crime, she hadn't known of the monster he was deep inside. But she knew that there was nothing she could do but stick with him at all costs, he was her husband after all, and she had always been taught that no matter what he was in the right. Even in this, she couldn't just abandon him now, all of their children had, she couldn't do the same.

Even as rain poured and her dress was covered in mud and blood from dragging him around, she kept going with fierce determination, after all if you want something done right you just have to do it yourself. His basement workshop would have to do, she needed somewhere with a lot of space and where no one would look. She hadn't even been there herself.

It was dark and smelled something foul, rusted bits of metal taking up every square inch of the place. The hollow eyes of the prototypes of long since projects given up on staring back at her, the ones that haunted her dreams. With a brush of her arm the gears and wires clattered onto the floor as she tried to lift him onto the table, taking many failed attempts until he was laid on it. All she could do was roll up her sleeves and get set to it, gathering fabric scissors, a metal saw, and pliers.

First went the costume, cut off and discarded until they were in heaps on the floor, the fibreglass shell coming next. With those disposed of she could clearly see the damage, she had always been queasy around blood, so she had to cover her mouth to keep her lurching stomach in check. This wasn't about her comfort, it was about him living, and continuing to keep things the way they had always been, her at home, him providing for her.

Sparks flew as she cut through the metal, cutting the locks away from the exoskeleton. It made the most horrendous sound, and the smell was vile, she didn't know how William could spend so many hours here working on these things and ignoring his family. As each gave way, all she could think of is the pain he must be going through at this moment, struggling to breathe, each one causing him immense pain.

Even that was nothing compared to the disgusting sound of metal being ripped out of flesh as she pulled each one out. How could it have come to this, her proud and brilliant husband stuck like a pincushion because of his own design. Worry and love the only things keeping her hands moving as she struggling to put him back together again. He was no more than those discarded machines he had spent his whole life making, scrapped and left to rot.

============================================

"After all those murders, I don't know how you got used to all that blood William." His wife says after wiping the last of his blood off of her.

William was laying there, groaning and trying to process anything but pure agony. It was easier to breathe, and even now she had saved him from the fiery pits of hell. He was going to live, beyond all expectations, he was going to live, live to commit more crimes and slaughter more innocent people.

"I don't deserve you my dear.." He somehow manages despite the pain.

"After all you've done for me, this was the least I could do."

He bit back the urge to laugh, all he'd done was gotten her pregnant and had her keep it to make sure she couldn't leave him, made her drop out of her education so she had no option but him. "Whatever you say dear." He smirked, he knew even from then she was a keeper. "What would I do without you."

His sweet little wife.

#william afton smut #william afton x reader #william afton x oc #steve raglan smut #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x oc #five nights at freddys #fnaf #fnaf movie #purple guy #man behind the slaughter

[truecobblepot]

my husband 🥰🫶🏻

hes looking at me and kellen btw

#william afton #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #fanart #oc x canon #self insert #william afton fanart #steve raglan #fanfic

[danisssim-o]

Made art for Valentine's Day, inspired by the song "Doctor" - Jack Stauber 🩷🩷🩷

#digital art #art #fnaf fanart #fnaf art #fnaf movie #fnaf security breach #steve raglan #matthew lillard #william afton #valentines day #original character #oc x canon #five nights at freddy's #purple guy #spring bonnie #springtrap #i need a doctor

[multicolorlou]

Christmas with WILLIAM aka STEVE RAGLAN 🤢 yes that's me with him I'm his wife and girlfriend

🎄

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf art #fnaf fanart #steve raglan #afton #william afton #five nights at freddys #oc x canon #self x canon

[megggyeggy]

A Terrifying Tale From The Darkened Pizzeria

Some kind of Headcase (Pt. 2 of Hell Hath No fury.)

Pt. 1 here

Trigger Warnings: None really. “Steve” is a weirdo. Mentions of Mike beating up a guy. Mike is annoyed. So is his girlfriend.

July 20th, 2000. Mike Schmidt’s home. 12:02 PM.

Anna was at home with her boyfriend’s little sister, she was making lunch as she glanced over at Abby who was making a new drawing. “Abby, lunch is ready.” Anna told the little girl who didn’t respond to her, distracted by her drawing. “Abby,” Anna called her name in a sing-song voice, the little girl looked up with curious eyes as she made eye contact with Anna. “Yes?” The woman sighed out as she watched Abby, placing a hand on her hip. “You need to eat, honey.” Anna spoke in a soothing voice, smiling at Abby. “How’s the drawing coming?” Anna questioned, nudging her head in the direction of the paper. “It’s almost done..you are in this one!” Said Abby, grinning from ear to ear. Anna hummed as she smiled at the little girl, Abby’s curls framing her face. “I am? Make sure you get my good side,” Anna joked with a wink, placing the plate in front of Abby. On the plate was a toasted BLT sandwich. Breakfast for lunch. “Eat up, Y’know Mike will have a fit if you don’t eat.” Anna teased as she nudged Abby, taking a seat at the kitchen table next to Abby as she began to eat.

The two girls had eaten lunch together while bonding over Abby’s newest drawing, “Who’s that?” Anna questioned as she pointed at a stick figure of a little boy in a striped shirt. “That’s my friend.” Abby told Anna with a small smile, Anna hummed softly with a nod. However, the front door had opened to reveal Mike. This caused Anna to frown as she stood up from her seat, “Eat,” Anna told Abby before walking into the living room. “Mike?” Anna looked at her boyfriend with furrowed brows, “What’re you doing home so early?” Anna questioned with furrowed brows. Mike looked at Anna with a frown, frustration written on his face as he watched her. “I was fired.” Mike muttered softly, he fiddled with his keys as he looked down at his hand, the knuckles bruising. “Again? Mike-“ Anna sighed out as she looked at Mike with a worried look on her face, “What happened?” Mike looked away from Anna, a bashful look spreading across his features. “It was a misunderstanding…” Mike breathed out, looking at his little sister with a conflicted expression on his face, “Hey, Abby. Go get your jacket on, gonna take you to daycare. I have to meet with someone important, okay?” Mike told his little sister who sighed out, grabbing her crayons and her paper before walking to her bedroom to get her jacket and notebook.

“Mike, are you gonna tell me what happened?” Anna questioned with worried eyes, she turned to the coat hanger to grab her jacket and pull it on as she watched her boyfriend. “I thought-..I thought this guy was kidnapping a kid..turns out, it was his dad..” Mike explained in a soft and defeated voice. Anna’s expression softened as she observed Mike, “Oh..Mike.” She sighed out, gently gripping the collar of the man’s jacket as she looked up at him. He had dark bags under his eyes, exhaustion written all over his face. Anna kissed Mike gently, causing his eyes to flutter shut as he gently cupped her cheek. “Gross.” Abby grunted as she pushed between the couple to open the front door, Anna smirked at the curly haired girl before looking at Mike, the couple sharing a laugh together.

The trio made their way out to Mike’s beat up car, Anna helped Abby into the car as she buckled her up before getting into the passenger seat. “So who is this important person you are going to meet?” Anna questioned curiously, looking at Mike with a look of interest in her eyes. “He’s a career counselor..hopefully he can help me find a new job.” Mike sighed in frustration while Anna nodded her head in agreement, looking down at her hands. “Well, I’m going with you.” Anna told her boyfriend who hummed, “You don’t have to-“ Anna squinted at Mike before shaking her head, “I want to.”

July 20th, 2000. Career Counseling Office. 1:46 PM.

The career counselor was sitting in front of Mike and Anna, the couple side eyeing one another in an uncomfortable silence. What was this guy’s deal? Is he going to say anything? Finally, the man had turned in his seat as he faced the couple. Mike’s file in his hands as he read over it, brows pinched together as he hummed. He didn’t seem to be impressed. ‘Steve’ looked up at Mike with narrowed eyes, he sighed out as if this was an inconvenience. “What is your deal, Mike?” The words seemed to slide off the man’s tongue like venom. Anna tensed up as she glanced between the two men with furrowed brows, “Are you…” Steve made a gesture with his hand, “some kind of head case?” Steve questioned which caused Anna to frown. “Excuse me?” Anna questioned in surprise, he couldn’t speak to Mike like that!..Could he? Obviously he could, cause he was. With Mike, however, it didn’t seem to bother him. He was relaxed in his seat as he looked at Steve with an unamused expression. Steve looked at her and arched his brow at Anna’s words, “Mike beat up a man in broad daylight,” Steve looked at Mike and folded his hands together. “In front of his child.” Anna pursed her lips together as she seemed to crumble down into her seat, looking at Mike with a small frown. He didn’t tell her that…Mike let out a nervous chuckle as he bobbed his head, “T-..That was a mistake..um..it was a misunderstanding. I thought-“ Steve let out a scoff as he looked down at the file, pointing at it. “Just look at your employment record. Tire zone, sales associate, two months, terminated. Insubordination.” Mike let out an annoyed sigh as he rolled his eyes, cracking his neck to try and calm himself down. “Media world! Custodial staff, one week!” Steve exclaimed as he held up one finger, he looked at Mike with narrowed eyes. “It’s like you're not even trying here, yet you sit before me asking for help.” Steve muttered as he flipped through the pages, looking at Mike with an amused expression now. “I am just trying to figure out who you are, Mr. Michael Sh…” the man seemed to freeze, his brows pinching together. He mentally read it twice, as if making sure he read it right. Mike looked between the paper and Steve multiple times, waiting for him to speak. An awkward silence once again fell upon the trio, Anna shifted in her seat uncomfortably as she glanced at Mike. ‘What the hell?’ She mouthed to Mike who shrugged his shoulders, the couple looked back at Steve who raised his head to look at Mike. A look of…fear? Yeah..a look of fear in his eyes. Steve’s brows furrowed together as he leaned forward in his seat, the seat creaking beneath him as he stared hard at Mike. Observing him.

Steve closed the folder file and tossed it onto his desk, smacking his lips together as his body now relaxed. “Coffee?” Steve offered as he looked between Mike and Anna, “Sorry?” Mike questioned in annoyance as if he didn’t hear Steve right. Anna frowned as her nose scrunched up in confusion, “What?” Anna muttered softly as she looked at Steve with a squint. Steve stood up and rubbed his sweaty hands onto his dress pants as he pointed to the coffee machine, “Uh-..would you-..w-would you like some-..some coffee? I made coffee.” The man stuttered nervously as he walked over to the coffee machine. Anna and Mike shared a confused glance together before looking over their shoulders at Steve. “No..” the couple said in unison. Steve poured himself a cup of coffee, holding the coffee cup to his chest as he looked out the window of his office. “I-..I’m gonna be brutally honest with you here, Mike..given your track record, your options…” Steve paused for a moment before speaking again, “are gonna be extremely limited.” Steve told Mike as he turned to face Anna and Mike now. Mike shook his head in frustration, “I’ll take anything, okay? Any-..Any job you got..” Mike stuttered out, he needed a job…he needed money, he had to take care of his little sister. Anna placed her hand onto Mike’s shoulder, her thumb caressing that spot. “No-..No..look, I get that part..um..it’s just-…” Steve stuttered as he walked back to his desk and sat down, placing his coffee cup on the right side of his desk while tossing his hands in the air. “You know, it’s not that easy.” Steve told Mike, a worried look in his eyes. Anna frowned as she looked at Mike who pursed his lips, sighing out in defeat as he nodded his head. “Yeah-..thank you.” Mike spoke softly, standing up while holding his hand out for Anna to take. “Thanks,” Anna said to Steve who nodded his head, staring off into space. The couple made their way to the door, however Steve suddenly sat up straight while exclaiming. “I have a job for you!” Mike and Anna froze in their spots, looking at the man with annoyed expressions. Didn’t he just say it wasn’t that easy? Now all of the sudden he has a job? Mike glared at Steve with a soft scoff, “Come on, sit down!” Steve gestured towards the seats with his hand, “Sit, sit, sit, sit, sit.” Steve repeated with a wide grin on his face now, looking between the couple with a friendly expression on his face now. Anna looked at Mike who shrugged his shoulders while rolling his eyes, gesturing for her to sit back down. Anna sighed as she walked back over to her seat and looked at Steve with an uncomfortable look on her face. This guy was so..odd.. “I thought you said you didn’t have a job?” Anna questioned in annoyance that Steve smiled at her tightly, chuckling softly. “Yeah, well..Y’know..I just remembered.” Steve chuckled while Mike looked at Anna, shaking his head as if telling her not to make a big deal out of it. Anna sighed in frustration as she leaned back in her seat while Mike sat up, his back hunched as he stared at Steve with an annoyed expression. “Okay-..uh..well, what is it?” Mike questioned, he wanted to get out of this office already. It was uncomfortable and this guy didn’t help with that. “It’s a security gig,” Steve told Mike with a neutral look, shrugging his shoulders. “Full disclosure: it’s not great. Right? High turnover. That’s what we call it in the business, but you get to be your own boss.” Steve told Mike as he pointed at him, before shrugging as a small grin tugged at his lips.

Steve added, while Mike looked down in thought..he glanced back up at Steve with an interested look. Steve shook his head as he used his hands as he spoke, “And you only have to worry about one thing,” Steve said as he lifted one finger up, a lopsided grin on his face. “Keeping people out.” This seemed to interest Mike further. He didn’t have to deal with people? That was perfect. Mike raised his head as he watched Steve closely, giving him his full attention. Anna however, still was unsure about this. Why all of the sudden did he want to give Mike the job? “And-..And, you know, and keep the place tidy.” Steve added as he gestured with his hand, brows pinched together. “That’s two things,” Mike and Anna said in unison, Steve glanced between the couple..his grin falling from his face as an annoyed expression appeared on his face. “You want the job or not?” Steve questioned Mike as he folded his hands together. “How’s the pay?” Anna questioned curiously, which Steve shook his head. “Not great.” Steve then grinned as he nodded his head quickly, “But, the hours are worse!” Steve said, his lips tightening, it was as if he was trying not to laugh in their faces. That’s why he wanted to give Mike this job. Asshole..It was a crappy job. Mike sighed as he looked down, whispering.

“I can’t do nights.” Steve’s brows pinched together as he leaned forward, not hearing what Mike had said. “Excuse me?” Mike rolled his eyes as he bowed his head, “I can’t do nights.” Mike said loud and clear now, glaring at the man across from him. Steve chuckled out as he watched Mike with an amused expression, his smile slowly fading as he looked at Anna. “That’s such a shame…” He muttered as he seemed to look Anna up and down, this caused Anna to shift in her seat uncomfortably. Mike stared hard at Steve, brows furrowed together as he glanced at his girlfriend who was clearly uncomfortable. “Yeah..thank you.” Mike muttered as he stood up, “C’mon,” Mike spoke softly to Anna who immediately stood up and grabbed onto Mike’s hand, following him to the door. Steve had suddenly leaped out of his seat, grabbing a car from his desk. “Wait! Uh..” the sudden movement caused Anna to squeak in surprise, looking at the man who towered over them. Jeez..he was tall. The man made Mike and Anna look like a child compared to him. “In case you have a change of heart..” Steve said with a shrug, which Mike hummed and grabbed the card. The couple made their way out of the room hurriedly, “That guy was a creep,” Anna grumbled in annoyance, while Mike nodded his head in agreement.

#fnaf movie #fnaf #oc #original female character #mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schimdt smut #william afton non con #william afton smut #william afton x reader #william afton #steve raglan

[cherrycheckers]

Sorry for being cringe (it will happen again)

#steve raglan #william afton #five nights at freddys movie #the man behind the slaughter #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #william afton fanart #yellow rabbit #self insert #oc x canon #peepaw willy #fnaf william afton #william afton fnaf #steve raglan fanart #self insert x canon

[ruh--roh-raggy]

#skeleton updates #skeleton writes #husband william afton club #home sweet home #punk william #dca oc x sundrop #dca community #dca x reader #sundrop x daycare attendant reader #sundrop x dca #dca oc #fnaf #fnaf movie #william afton #five nights at freddy's #steve raglan #springtrap #william afton x reader #william afton smut

[ohitshoneybee]

Don’t Fear the Reaper

Chapter 5

Movie!William Afton x OC

Series Content Warning: SUBJECT TO CHANGE AT ANY TIME, kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, murder, MASSIVE age gap (it’s like 30 years), smut, like, a lot of smut, much more to come im sure

Chapter Content Warning: clara’s an idiot and does drugs on the job, kidnapping

GOD BLESS @bowersbubbles AND THANK YOU GIRLIE FOR THE DIVIDER AND BETA READING, I LOVE YOU!

Clara gets home and she’s far too deep in emotional turmoil to sleep, so she paces her apartment. Back and forth between the kitchen and living room, her landline still flashing at her. She groans and stops in front of it, pushing a button on the machine. 

“You have four missed calls,” The machine announces, followed by her voicemail recording.

Tyler’s voice plays, his suddenly grating voice ringing through the apartment. “Clara, baby, please don’t do this! You know it never goes well! Listen, there's a party this Thursday, you should come! We can work this out, I know we can!” She groans and clicks the delete button, moving onto the next voicemail. 

Tyler, again. Not shocking. Clara skips this one without listening to it, and the next one, though the last one catches her before she can cross the room to skip it. It’s Tyler, again, but there’s music in the background. Music she’s heard before, at the pizzeria, nonetheless. 

“Clara, baby, I don’t know what’s going on or- or where I am- oh god- You need to come get me now!” He drops his phone and Clara can hear a metallic thud, an oddly rhythmic one at that, followed by screaming, glass shattering, then silence. The music stops and she clicks the delete button. That voicemail sits with her for a couple hours as she stews and watches the garbage that airs on early morning tv. It’s not out of the ordinary for her to get calls like that from Tyler, he’s constantly getting into places he shouldn’t with his friends, and Clara has all but stopped caring.

Plus, she’s far too preoccupied with the adventure of her own she had last night.

The sight of Mr. Raglan - Steve - on his knees in front of her replays in her head over and over again and she groans, burying her face in a pillow. 

She falls asleep to the drone of the television and wakes up around 8, tossing and turning in bed for close to an hour before she manages to get up. She showers, gets dressed, and throws together a couple snacks before heading out. A weed brownie, courtesy of Tyler, sneaking its way in there.

Clara parks, just like every other night, but surveys the parking lot and the front door much closer since the break in the night before. She gets in and everything’s exactly as she left it, tables and chairs stacked on one side of the room, everything freshly dusted, swept and mopped. She starts her routine - check the cameras, put on the vest. One of the cameras is offline - the one looking into the workshop - so she makes a mental note to go check everything’s alright. Clara starts with the feeds from front of house, double checking the front entrance is closed behind her and the animatronics are still fine before making her way back through the halls, then going through the cameras outside again. As she flips through the cameras, she digs the brownie out of her bag and breaks it in half, saving the rest for later. Knowing herself, she’d eat the entire thing and regret it. She eats it as she goes through the cameras again, her nerves wreaking havoc on her already. On an empty stomach, Clara’s got about 40 minutes before the edible really kicks in.

Clara kills those 40 long minutes by spinning in circles in the desk chair and obsessively going through the cameras. The effects of the brownie wash over her in waves, a warm flush to her cheeks as she starts to relax. She manages to pull herself out of the desk chair before she practically melts into it, and she fumbles through the locker for the flashlight. 

Clara’s steps echo slightly through the halls as she meanders, peeking into the various rooms and closets. All is well, until she gets to the metal grate door keeping her from the workshop. It’s locked, and she pulls on it only to be met with an echoing rattle. 

“Hello? Anyone there?” Clara shines her flashlight down the hall, though it doesn’t illuminate anything further than six feet away. No response, though for a split second, she’s convinced she sees a pair of white lights, almost like eyes, but she brushes it off. She reaches into her hoodie pocket and starts aimlessly fidgeting with the building keys.

It hits her suddenly and entirely out of the blue - there’s a third key she hasn’t tried in any of the doors. 

“Well.. here goes nothing, I guess.” Clara sighs, pulling the keys from her pocket. She tries the third key in the lock and it clicks, swinging open with a creak. She’s slack jawed, actually shocked it worked.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.. I swear, I’m living in a horror movie.” She pushes past the door, feeling around on the walls for a lightswitch. She can’t find one, and moves on, trusting in her flashlight. It isn’t a particularly long hallway, and as she gets closer to the workshop door, she hears someone humming in there.

Opting to keep the element of surprise over whoever’s in there, Clara’s as quiet as a mouse as she pushes the door open, slowly and carefully.

It takes her a second, but she’s startled when she realizes it’s Steve, and she drops her flashlight, alerting him to her presence. He’s wearing the yellow rabbit suit, minus the head, and he turns on his heel immediately, a sinister look in his eye. “Oh Clara, little bunny, you really shouldn’t have come back here..” Steve takes a half step towards Clara and she runs. Back down the hall, slamming the grate door behind her. She’s shaking far too much with the adrenaline coursing through her veins to lock it and take the keys, so she topples some boxes and a stack of chairs. 

“Clara, sweetheart, there’s no need to run! I’m not going to hurt you, c’mon!”

With her heart pounding in her ears, she books it towards the front door, realizing all too late she’s left the keys and it’s locked. “Oh fuuuck.. Oh god I’m so dead- fuck!” Clara jumps as the animatronics start up, the song blasting at full volume. She makes a run for the arcade as the curtains open, but she’s far too slow. Clara’s jerked back suddenly as Freddy snatches her by the back of the vest, holding her a few inches off the ground. She struggles and screams for help as she listens to Steve approaching, and stares him down with tears in her eyes as he ducks through the doorway.

“Oh Clara.. You sweet, naïve little girl.. You just had to poke around, huh?” Steve stops a couple inches in front of her, bending down to her eye level. Clara’s shaking with fear, any snarky retort she may have had now stuck behind the lump in her throat. She tries her best to blink back the tears welling in her eyes, but a few betray her and roll down her cheeks.

“Hey, no need for that, I told you I wasn’t going to hurt you. You think I’d lie?” Clara manages to shake her head no, a few more tears streaming down her face. Steve reaches a hand up to wipe them away, but she shies away from his touch as far as she can turn her head. He grabs her by the chin and she flinches, her eyes squeezed shut.

“C’mon baby, I’m not gonna hurt you, you have to trust me.” Steve turns her to look at him.

“Please just- just let me go home. I won’t tell anyone, I won’t tell the cops, please, Steve, just let me go,” Clara sobs, her stomach in knots as she pleads and tries to push him away, her arms not much stronger than noodles. 

“You know I can’t do that, now that you know.” He pulls the suits gloves off and grabs her hands. “Clara, I can’t let you go, I couldn’t the moment you walked into my office.” Claras stomach churns, and her face flushes pink as Steve continues. “I-I staged the break in, so that you’d call me. I honestly didn’t mean for you to get hurt, I’m really sorry baby-” He starts rambling and Clara cuts him off. “Why do you keep calling me nicknames like that?” “You- Fuck, you really don’t get it, do you?” Steve huffs and drops her hands, pulling his glasses off to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You’re mine now, Clara, whether you like it or not.” He drags a hand down his face in exasperation and puts the aviators back on. His words set something off in her, a warmth spreading through her as her pupils dilate. Whether Clara knows it or not, the look she gives Steve makes his cock twitch - her icy blue eyes welling with tears as she looks up at him through her eyelashes. 

Steve notices, even in the low light, and lets out a chuckle. “You liked that, hmm? Some part of you, deep down, but a part of you nonetheless.” He lifts her chin and they lock eyes.

“I- uh..” Clara tries to deny it, but she can’t will the words to come out.

“Shh, it’s okay. I know words get so hard for you when you’re high. No need to talk, just smile and nod. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?” Steve smirks as Clara nods and seems to melt like putty in his hands, despite the adrenaline coursing through her. The full effect of her treat now finally hitting her, Clara starts mindlessly nodding, her eyes barely still open.

“Put her down, Freddy. This little bunny isn’t going anywhere, is she?” Clara beams as she realizes Steve is talking about her, all the warning bells in her brain shut off. She stumbles slightly as she’s set down, taking a moment to regain her footing.

The rest of the night is a blur, but Clara distinctly remembers getting into a car and dozing off, the soft glow of the streetlights and quiet radio chatter luring her to sleep.

#william afton #steve raglan #fnaf #fnaf movie #william afton x self insert #william afton x oc #lmk if i forget anything lmao

[zoros-onigiri]

Addie: *Gestures to William* this is my husband.

Addie: *gesturing to Springtrap.*

Addie: This is my husband’s fursona

#incorrect quotes #addie santine #william afton x oc #steve raglan #self ship #selfship #daddy dearest and dead 🐰💜 #william afton #fnaf

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Can't Stay Away, Can't Look Away - Steve Raglan/William Afton X Female Reader

Title: Can't Stay Away, Can't Look Away

Steve Raglan/William Afton X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Pete the Chef OC and Marie OC

WC: 2,917

Warnings: A bit of obsession, maybe stalking maybe not?, Reader is a waitress and is mentioned wearing a skirt for work, teasing, flirting?, serial killer stuff mentioned very briefly, Reader has very brief negative thoughts, age gap, mini angst, and fluff

The uniform beat of the clock was the only sound in the room as it ticked away. It seemed to echo throughout Steve Raglan's office. The silence was unnerving, and the ticking of the clock seemed to be a constant reminder of the fact that time was indeed slowly crawling forward with each minute that passed.

Sitting in his swivel chair, Steve glanced over some client files, occasionally humming to himself as he used his feet to turn himself in his chair; side to side. Letting out a silent sigh, he closed the dull yellow file and sat it on his desk with the others. Pushing up the bridge of his gold-framed aviator glasses, Steve looked up at the clock. Upon reaching his scheduled lunch break, he pushed himself off the chair before grabbing his coat and shrugging it on. Adjusting his tie as he left his office, he walked down the hall, passing other offices before exiting the large building. 

It was a bright afternoon, though Steve hardly noticed as he made his way down the sidewalk, a certain confidence in each step. As he walked, he passed by the local flower shop, which stood beside a small bookstore, before crossing the street and the busy intersection to pass by the park. This was a part of Steve's routine, every weekday since about a couple of months ago. He always left his office at the same time for lunch, passed the same shops and stores, and entered the same diner for that said lunch. 

Pushing the glass door open, Steve walked in, only to sit down at his usual spot. Though the restored diner from the 1960s was practically in new shape, the edges of the red leather booth where Steve sat were beginning to peel from age. The menu board was still hung up behind the counter, along with other posters, antique metal signs of cars, and other things that had been in the diner longer than Steve cared to really care about. The jukebox in the corner was softly playing a song, ‘Put Your Head On My Shoulder,’ a song by Paul Anka. The walls were a pastel blue, red, and white, with some white tile detailing here and there. 

Going to the diner was routine for him, as said before, he went there every weekday to get his lunch. But he didn't go because the food was out of this world, or to appreciate the aesthetic of the place or anything like that. No, he came for you. 

You were a waitress at the tiny diner, dressed in the typical 1960s waitress attire, you scurried to the awaiting people, pouring their drinks and serving their food. Sure, there were other waitresses there, but they weren't you. No, there was something special about you that made Steve want to come there every day for the sake of seeing you. You were beautiful, with bright, sparkling eyes, and soft lips that spoke words so sweetly. You just gave off a feeling that made you stand apart, an aura of warmth and affection. So Steve took a liking to you. And he couldn't understand why he did, no matter how hard he tried. He just felt drawn to you. Like magnetite to a magnet.

Walking out of the backroom, you froze, seeing Steve sitting in his usual booth, hands clasped, looking out the window. Letting out a breath you didn't even know you were holding, you felt your heart begin to race. Oh, what that man did to you, even just his presence alone brought a smile to your face. Brushing down your waitress skirt, you didn't bother to grab your notepad and pen from your skirt pocket as you walked over. You knew his order well. Well enough that you had it memorized; a BLT and a cup or two of black coffee.

Stepping in front of the table, the man looked up, your smile softened slightly, "Good afternoon, Steve. Do you want your usual?" You asked, and what you had asked him practically every day since he came into the little diner a couple of months ago. 

The man gave you a small grin back, his clasped hands shifting slightly, making you look down at the movement; his sleeves were pushed back above his elbows, strong forearms exposed. Steve noticed your gaze, his eyes glancing down at your mouth as you bought your bottom lip in between your teeth, "Good afternoon, Y/N. Yes, I would like my usual." He answered, his words making you look back into his blue eyes before you cleared your throat nervously.

You gave him a nod, bits of stray hairs falling in front of your face as you did so, "... Alright, I'll make sure that it arrives soon." With one last look at him, brushing the stray hairs behind your ears, you headed towards the kitchen. 

Steve watched you go, staring after you until you disappeared around the corner into the kitchen. He sighed quietly as he leaned back in his seat. Meanwhile, you leaned against the wall near the kitchen door, letting out a breath as you pressed your hand on your chest, feeling your racing heart pound and hammer against your chest. Taking one last breath, you got a hold of yourself, pushing through the large kitchen to find Pete, the chef. 

Peering past a metal counter, you smiled at the old man who was mixing some sort of salad, "Hey, Pete," You grinned, "We got a seven and a black coffee." You spoke, gaining the man's attention. Pivoting his weight to his hip, he placed a hand there, tilting his head as he took in your expression; but mostly your eyes. He could tell that something was going on. 

"He's here, isn't he?" Pete asked, watching your face flush, as you glanced and looked everywhere but at him, his grin widened. 

"Yeah, Pete, he is. Can I please just get his order? Please, no teasing." You begged with a slight whine to your voice.

Pete, an old man in his sixties, had been working at the diner since he was in his twenties; and had been sort of a cool uncle figure to you, only shrugged his shoulders. Turning back around, he began to prepare Steve's order. "Sure thing, dearie," He replied softly, chuckling lightly. "You should probably head over and get him his coffee, don't want Marie to get to him before you do. She won't be so merciful."

Nodding your head you rushed out of the kitchen, heading behind the counter, passing Marie, who only grinned as you passed by her. Pouring the black coffee, you let out one last breath, mentally hyping yourself up before you walked back over to Steve. 

He raised his head, meeting your eyes as you carefully sat the coffee down in front of him. "Thank you, Y/N." He spoke, giving you the same small smile that made you want to melt. 

"You're welcome, Steve. Is there anything else you'd like while you wait? We just added a blueberry pie to the menu this morning." You asked, but the man just shook his head, his intense gaze unmoving as he gave you a small toothy grin.

"No, I'm alright."

Nodding, you gestured back to the kitchen, "I'll, uh, go check up on your food then."

Rushing back to the kitchen, you found Marie inside, Pete still working on the bacon portion of Steve's order. Marie turned to you, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. "He's here." She sang in a soft sing-song voice, smirking.

Throwing your hands up, you huffed, "Yes, that's quite obvious. He's here every day at twelve-thirty on the dot." You retorted.

Marie laughed, shaking her head, "I just find it funny is all."

You furrowed your eyebrows, watching as Pete began to chop up a tomato. "What's funny?"

"That you get so flustered around him." She answered, making you look down at your feet.

Marie had been your best friend since you were both in high school. She had been in the same few classes with you, and the both of you had gotten along great, even going to the same college. Later, you both tried going your separate ways, but this town had some pull on the both of you - so you both ended up working at the diner after a while of job searching. She was usually the voice of reason, the one you looked up to whenever you had a difficult question or task. She really was a great friend.

"I try not to be." You answered simply, turning to Pete, "Is his sandwich ready?" You asked as the man nodded, stabbing the red foil-tipped toothpick in the center of the bread; topping it all off. 

“This might be the best one yet.” Pete marveled, staring down at his sandwich with pride, but without another word, you grabbed the plate with the BLT and pushed the kitchen door open.

Walking over with his food, you felt your irritation fade away as Steve looked up, his grin growing. Placing the food down in front of him, you noticed that his coffee cup was empty. Gesturing to it, you spoke, "Would you like a refill?"

"Yes, thank you," He spoke, watching as you quickly grabbed the coffee pot from the counter across from him, pouring more of the coffee into his cup. "How has your day been, Y/N?" He asked, you had been preparing yourself for today's conversation.

"It's been alright," You said, your voice soft. A nervous chuckle escaped you before you continued, "Just trying to keep busy. How's everything with you?" You asked, hoping to change the subject a bit.

“The same as usual, I'm afraid." He answered, similar to what he told you every time you asked him how he was.

"Well," You cleared your throat, "I'll let you eat. Let me know if you need anything, okay?" You asked, smiling slightly, giving him one last look before walking back to the counter.

"Of course..." He muttered, mostly to himself, watching as you slid behind the counter with your co-worker, grabbing a rag and beginning to clean the marble with it. 

Looking down at the table, his sandwich seemed to stare right up at him. Picking it up with both hands, he bit into his BLT, taking a moment before letting his eyes wander the room before they settled on you once more. Watching as you talked with your co-worker, a smile on your face and hers. The co-worker occasionally glanced over at him, making him turn back to stare at his table, chewing his sandwich slowly. Straining his ears, he tried to listen in on your conversation.

"He's staring at you again," Marie spoke under her breath, "It's kind of creepy." 

Hitting her arm with the rag, you lightly glared at her, "Don't be rude. Or too loud… He might hear you…" 

"What?" She asked defensively, "It is, he's looking at you like a creep."

"And what about that? Should I be worried?" You challenged, raising an eyebrow as you went back to rubbing at the counter in front of you. “I think it’s sweet,” You muttered, and Marie didn’t seem to notice.

Sighing, she shook her head, crossing her arms, "I mean, maybe? Who knows? Maybe he's some serial killer."

You sputtered a laugh, raising your hand to cover your mouth, "You're ridiculous, Marie. He may be a bit… Antisocial, but that does not mean he’s some crazy murderer.”

Marie sighed again, glancing back over at him, "He’s still staring."

"I doubt it." You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "I'm not someone to stare at."

Marie stared at you, raising her eyebrow, "Girl, you're gorgeous. Shut up. And he is, look."

Rolling your eyes at her, you worried on your lip as you glanced over at him, noticing that he was indeed staring at you. It wasn't hard to notice that fact, with how much his eyes were locked onto yours, especially when you could almost feel them piercing through you. Your cheeks flushed with heat, as your stomach twisted and flipped. You dipped your head, biting into your lip with a bit more force so as not to let the growing smile slip onto your face.

"I might do something risky," You muttered, your voice soft, breathless. Marie noticed, raising both her eyebrows this time in surprise. “I’ve been thinking about doing it for a while…”

"Oh, wow, he's really got you wrapped around his finger, doesn't he? You're whipped."

You shook your head, twisting the rap between your hands, straining your fingers slightly with the force, "No, I'm not."

"You're whipped. Smitten. Absolutely enamored. You've got the hots for this guy." She continued to tease, making you let out a deep sigh, tossing the rag down on the counter. "What are you planning to do exactly, hon?" She then asked, noticing that she really wasn't helping you in this situation.

"I might give him my number." You muttered, taking a quick glance over to see him finishing his coffee; plate clean. You couldn’t help but admire his side profile, taking in his perfect features. His dark hair, sprinkled with gray, looked so soft. It looked like it would be great to run your fingers through it. Your hand moved to the front of your head, pulling on a loose strand of hair before returning it behind your ear. You wondered, as you stared at him, if his beard would be soft or rough... “Oh God...” You murmured under your breath.

Marie took a step forward, placing a hand on your arm, snapping your gaze back to her, "Hon... Uh, you don't have to listen to me… But isn’t he a bit too old for you?”

You tilted your head at her, confusion etching onto your face, "Too old?"

She nodded her head, "Yea, y'know, he's like forty or fifty or somethin'. There’s a pretty big age gap between you two.

Blinking your eyes rapidly, your lips parted slightly, sort of speechless. "Marie... I don't care how old he is... I don't care about age gaps. If I was like eighteen, then yeah, that would be a problem to me, but I am twenty-five... I just... I don't know… As long as we are two consenting adults… I- uh…" You trailed off. “You’re stressing me out.”

“I’m sorry,” Marie smiled sweetly, patting you on the shoulder gently, "Don't mind me then. I just want you to be a bit cautious… That is, unless he's super rich, then I say go for it.” You shook your head, letting out a small chuckle, before nodding your head towards the man in question.

"I should check on him. His lunch break is almost over." Marie watched you go, sighing before she left for the kitchen. Walking over, Steve sat his empty coffee cup down, looking up at you with a small grin, a strange glint in his eyes. "Ready for the bill, Steve?" You asked.

"I believe so," He sighed, grabbing into his jacket pocket beside him to grab his wallet. "Same as always?" He asked, and you hummed in confirmation. Pulling out a twenty dollar bill, he handed it to you. Your fingers brushed his as you took it, trying to ignore the sudden tingling feeling in your stomach at the contact. Stuffing the ten in your pocket, you pulled out a ten dollar bill. But, Steve only shook his head, “You keep that.”

Nodding with a small, grateful smile, you nodded, “Thank you, Steve.”

Shaking his head, he stood, "You don’t have to thank me. Your service was excellent, as always." He said simply, slipping his arms through the sleeves.

"Thank you," You muttered softly, blinking rapidly before you stuffed the money into your pocket, quickly opening your notepad and writing something down.

Steve watched you curiously as he adjusted the collar of his coat before you ripped the paper from the small notebook and handed it to him; unable to meet his gaze. He opened it slowly, his eyes reading and rereading the number - he could only assume it was your number - that you had haphazardly written down for him; though you were quick to write it, it was still neat and Steve could read it easily. Looking up at you, you finally managed to glance back up at him.

Folding the note, Steve slid it in his pocket, "I'll see you tomorrow?" He asked simply, watching as you nodded. He hummed, glancing around the features of your face before he found himself raising his hand, brushing the stubborn wisps behind your ear, the tips of his fingers lingering a second too long on the softness of your cheek before he pulled away. Your eyes widened a fraction, your lips opening slightly as a small, inaudible gasp left you. Steve swallowed thickly, swiftly turning on his heel before he lost what little control he had over himself, walking out of the diner, the door shutting behind him.

Standing there, you stared after him, letting out a sigh. What was that? Not that you were complaining. You slowly raised your hand, brushing your fingers along the same trail that he had touched moments ago, feeling the warmth. He had been so gentle and careful and... So warm. It felt good. You couldn't help but smile lightly. You hoped that he'd call you.

And he would. You'd be hearing from him soon. Very soon.

#cute #fluff #x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #fanfic #x you #x y/n #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's movie #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #william afton #steve raglan #steve raglan x reader #william afton x reader #william afton x female reader #william afton x you #william afton x y/n

[byronicbi]

Speeding across the country, in somebody else's car Keeping a book of secrets, and taking it too far (x)

Ricky's has got a handful of secrets:

The eyesore of a 'magenta' car he drives is stolen.

His college degree is a forgery.

The blood on his jacket is Definitely His Own.

And he's never forgiven the owners of that old pizzeria for the events of '87. After all, that was his little brother's head inside the jaws of a mechanical monster.

Here's all you need to know about Ricky Kronbach and his terrible, horrible, no good, very bad life courtesy of an extensive list of extremely bad decisions.

A movie!verse OC (in a "what if the games somehow still happened in the movie!verse but the dates were slightly altered" type of AU; ie the bite of '87 still occurred but rather than Jeremy Fitzgerald getting chomped, it was MCI!Jeremy)

"He said he could bring Jeremy back." "Jeremy's been gone a decade." "But what if he can? What if it's possible?"

Born September 9th, 1972 to Mary and John Kronbach in Great Falls, Minnesota. As the oldest of two kids he's both stubborn and protective, the former by instinct and the latter by necessity. With John's violent outbursts and propensity to gamble away most of the family income, and Mary's neglect in response to Ricky acting as a "tomboy" from a young age, home life for the Kronbach siblings was less than stellar.

To catch a break, Ricky would get into his allowance and bike down to Freddy's with his little brother Jeremy in tow. It happened often enough that multiple servers and one of the owners' daughters knew them by name. But late one Friday in November of 1987, tragedy came rushing up to meet the Kronbach's when Jeremy, aided by the owner's daughter, requested to see the Bonnie animatronic up close. No one exactly knows how the nine-year-old managed to get his head stuck between its jaws, triggering the springlock mechanism that killed him.

Following these events, John blamed Ricky for the death of his "only son" and unleashed a reign of terror on the teenager that would only end in further tragedy. When questioned about the events that took place during "The Christmas Massacre of '87", Ricky would claim to have been asleep during his parents' murder. At no point does he confide in anyone about the night terrors that lead up to the event—of the 7ft tall, striped marionette that led him towards the knife block on the kitchen counter.

The night terrors continue well into adulthood, even after his suspension from MSU's post-grad program, when he threatened one of his professors and picked fights with several classmates for unspecified reasons. With a criminal record and infamy attached to his family name, Ricky is forced to seek professional help when no one would employ him.

In the Spring of 1996, Ricky meets his career counselor, Steve Raglan, who offers him a night security gig. Ricky turns down the opportunity, and upon exiting the office he notices a magenta Chevrolet that seems familiar. Disconcerted that he can't pinpoint where he's seen it before, Ricky decides to skip town and start a new life altogether, as far away from his past as possible.

"I'm thinking Anaheim. Become an Imagineer. Someone who puts a smile on kids' faces, y'know?"

Strangely enough, in a Denny's out in the Middle of Nowhere, Colorado over a year later, he comes across the same car, the same career counselor, and Ricky is now certain "Steve Raglan" isn't who he claims to be.

"Steve Raglan" knows the name Kronbach, knows about Ricky's past and his impressive academic record, so he makes him one more offer the young man can't possibly refuse: if Ricky helps him finish an old project him and his old business partner set out to create in the 80s, then "Steve" can bring Ricky's brother back from the dead.

Some picrew references—altho! @/namonaki-arts took these references and brought him to life in chibi form.

Does this look like a man who'd team up with a serial killer to bring back his dead brother who may or may not have been a victim of said serial killer? Look at him. Does he look like someone with his own trail of dead bodies and stolen cars and also arson? P'shaw.

#texts. #fnaf oc #ricky tag #ricky kronbach #oc tag #miller writes #he's my baby boy who's never done anything wrong ever (lie) #ACFD chatter

[peachymilkandcream]

Movie! William Afton NSFW Alphabet

(A/N: The NSFW Alphabets are their canon events I cannot stop this I'm sorry T-T Also please read the warnings, I don't care if it's fucked my guy literally stuffed children into suits he's fucked up.)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, violence, mind breaking, misogyny, age difference etc.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) William is surprisingly considerate, when he has the time to be. Most of his life is wrapped up in the chaos of covering up murders and coming up with new machines that sometimes sex just becomes stress relief and he doesn't have time for more. However when he can be convinced to take time away he really does try and care about his wife and make sure she feels clean and comfortable.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Deranged psychos and their hands are a thing I'm telling you. The power in behind them is 100% a secret turn on they won't admit. And when you've made your career the work of your hands, (like child murders and a booming business) you can't help but pick that as the favourite. For her, he's not super partial but he really likes her hair, gripping it, pulling it, is what he daydreams about.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Let's just saw how else did they have four kids, cmon now. ;)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) While it's not inherently sexual William really loves putting fear into others, and he 100% has a r*pe fantasy that he puts her through often. (Although for her he doesn't tell her that's what happening so it's 'authentic') This includes fake home invasions as well when he gets bored of vanilla sex and wants to "spice things up". Poor girl lives in fear daily.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) He has some before they met, mostly teenage mistakes when he had the time. After he started his career it was rare he did simply because of time. He knows enough of what he's doing, he knows how to make himself feel good and that's all that matters right?

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) My guy is a ride or die missionary, reverse cowgirl is the only other he'll consider. Anything else is just uncomfortable in his opinion, and again it's about what feels best for him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) William's very erratic so it really depends on the mood he's in, how his day has gone if this kids annoy him. He has been known to be more humorous on occasion but it's not often.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Let's be honest William only gets his hair cut because his wife does it, he doesn't have the time to take care of himself like he should, those are precious moments that could go to his work. So no, he is not well groomed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) This again depends on the occasion, usually it's just stress relief so it's quick and usually not very romantic, but if it's a special occasion like an anniversary or birthday then he'll be way more romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Same as with his hair, he honestly just never has time XD

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Big somnophilia fan, probably a slight breeding kink, lingerie (especially stockings), hair pulling, choking, gagging, knife play 100% (he's a serial killer, I had to).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Anywhere in the house really, anywhere he can get a moment alone. He used to enjoy when she distracted him in his workshop in the basement but now those old parts bring back haunting memories...

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Her being a mother to his children, it warms his little black heart and gets him going. As well as any new sets of lingerie she buys or he buys for her.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) She wouldn't but if she tried to dominate him, he would nope the fuck out of there. My guy is an S tier misogynist and believes his wife should be beneath him literally and figuratively.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) He prefers receiving simply because it plays into the whole gagging thing. Her gagging on his dick as he face fucks her is so hot to him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) As stated before it depends on the occasion, special moments require more slow and sensual whereas annoyance or hurry is fast and rough.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) His whole life is about quickies, having just enough time to get himself off is what he usually does.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) He takes too many risks, if he's not careful he's going to end up hurting her.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Obviously when he was younger it was more, but now he's a one or two rounds at most guy.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) No no never, no matter what it is he's come to not trust machines around his loved ones anymore.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) If he's in a goofy mood he will, but most of the time he doesn't have time to sit and tease her.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) He's actually quite loud, groaning and even soft whimpers are his specialty.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) William has a thing for stockings because that's the first thing he saw her in and he started fantasizing how her thighs would jiggle in them while he was eating her out.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) I'd say he's above average, not too much but enough, he's slightly thick with a few smaller veins.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) His drive has really changed from wanting to have sex to wanted her to relieve stress. So because of all the stress he's under, it's pretty high.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) William is out like a light after, dreaming about his victims or how he disposed of bodies. Solid sleeper while his wife lays awake plagued by waking nightmares of her own.

#william afton x oc #william afton smut #william afton x reader #steve raglan x oc #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan smut #five nights at freddys #five nights at freddys movies

[truecobblepot]

i forgot i have tumblr again sorry

here’s some silly willy shitpost for my polish babygirls (og meme under the cut)

“Recently fished beast. I named her Elizabeth II because she’s also dead”

#william afton #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #fanart #oc x canon #self insert #steve raglan #nela fnafverse #i made him hot somehow #it’s always the shitpost ones #matthew lillard

[danisssim-o]

Some silly doodles with my babies

#digital art #art #original character #fnaf movie #oc #fnaf art #fnaf #fnaf fanart #five nights at freddy's #springtrap #fredbear #oc x canon #william afton #william afton fanart #purple guy #steve raglan #bite of 83

[multicolorlou]

When your stupid daughter walks in on you and your sugar baby 😡😡😡😡 JK JK but here's some William simpery, y'all gave me the courage to upload it here

#self x canon #oc x canon #william afton #afton #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf art #fnaf fanart #steve raglan #fnaf movie #fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #five nights at freddys #fnaf memes #fnaf theory

[igottheissue]

This Time Around 3

A strange woman Bucky is sure he knows but can’t fully recognize, picks him up after the fall of SHIELD. She claims to be friends with Steve and that she is here to help him. He can’t help but keep wondering where he knows her from; it’s definitely not through Steve Rogers. Can she help him be the man he wants to be or will the all too familiar struggles of being a super human overcome him?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X OC Rowan O’Connor Word Count:4,154 Rating: M Masterlist Chapter 2 Chapter 4

Taglist: @xmarveled @spidey-the-killer-queen

Rowan and Bucky had stayed one more night in the cozy Chicago apartment. Not much conversation filled the studio flat. Some awkward mumbles from Bucky asking Rowan how to work the shower was about it.

The next morning, they headed out the back door of the three story building. Bucky had his shoulder length brown hair mostly hidden under a Family Business Brewing Co. baseball cap, with the remainder of it sticking out the back in a small bun. He had shaved his face, giving him more of a five o’clock shadow rather than a bordering-on-homeless look. 

Rowan was dressed in green leggings and a pink tank top; a black oversized beanie covering up her auburn hair. She opted out of hiking boots, unlike Bucky, and sported a pair of comfortable running shoes instead. To any passersby, they looked like a young couple heading out to go camping for the weekend.

Rowan pressed a four digit code into a blue garage door and ushered Bucky inside. She grabbed a set of keys off a hook by the door. Bucky’s eyes scanned the low clearance ceiling, wondering which vehicle Rowan would choose. Bucky raised his eyebrows a bit at the car that Rowan led him to.

“Don’t judge me, I know its cliché. It’s not my normal choice but it’s the only one that has fuel in it right now. We don’t have time to stop for any until we get out of the city. I’m pretty sure by now Nat will have figured out which home I was talking about last night.” Rowan filled the back seat up with the few duffel bags she had carried downstairs, along with some empty ones. 

She had planned to find a clothing store on the outskirts of the city for Bucky. The raglan shirt and jeans she had given him were a bit too small. Luckily the boots were on the perfect side of snug for him.

Bucky wasn’t sure how, the information must have been hidden in a part of his mind from working for HYDRA, but he recognized the car. A blue Camaro. An older style with some rust. Had he driven one while on a mission?

“Where’d you get this?” His eyes wandered over the black leather interior as Rowan fished a cell phone out of a purple duffle bag and crushed it in her palm before letting the pieces fall to the ground.

“Souvenir from a mission.” Nothing more was said as Rowan and Bucky fastened their seatbelts and pulled out of the garage. Bucky stayed silent as Rowan shifted gears and slowly pulled out of the garage into the bumbling suburb streets. By the sun, he figured they were heading west.

-TTA-

“Got her.” Steve’s head snapped up, blue eyes following Natasha’s voice over to a group of large screens decorating the south wall of the room. They currently showed different angles of a back alleys and brick buildings. The location at the bottom right of the screen read “BUCKTOWN”. 

A small neighborhood hugging the Kennedy Expressway in Chicago. Steve’s eyes roamed the different camera angles when finally, they landed on two figures walking casually to a garage down a narrow alleyway off of West Webster Avenue.

To anyone else, the couple appeared casually dressed, like they were running errands or going on a trip somewhere, if the duffel bags were any indication. The woman was tall, nearly six foot it looked like, even in running shoes. She had a black, oversized beanie covering her hair. 

The man was over six foot, wearing a baseball hat with brown hair sticking out the back. His stride was large and his stature was rigid. His head never moved much, but to trained eyes, one could tell he was skillfully scanning the area.

“Are you sure Nat? I’m not going to be running around on a wild goose chase every time we see a couple and the guy has long brown hair. The man bun thing is in now you know. We can’t even see their faces right now. And that woman’s hair could be any color. Hell we can’t even see it under the beanie she has on.” Nat blew a warm breathe of air out her nose in slight annoyance, or maybe it was scolding, Steve couldn’t really tell most of the time, but he knew an explanation of why she was right was on its way.

“When Rowan was in the Sector she was on a mission to eradicate a biochemical warfare research facility in Chechnya. The building exploded and her right leg was crushed at the knee. They almost had to replace it with an enhanced prosthetic. 

“It healed most of the way. If you know what to look for you can see that her right leg from the knee down swings out just a few degrees wider than her left leg as she puts her foot down, almost like she’s bow-legged.” Natasha rewound the footage of the couple walking from a brick apartment building to a garage a few meters down the gravel alley. Steve looked closely this time. His eyes widened for a moment before narrowing in frustration.

“She lied. God dammit why did she lie to us Natasha?”

“Language Capsicle. Princess Leia probably has a reason to keep your BFF to herself.” Tony strolled in casually, bag of blueberries in his hand. He popped one in and looked at a smaller computer screen sitting on the desk nearest to him. It had a small blinking red light on it, text zipping quickly across the screen.

“You know she hates when you call her that. And Tony is right Steve, like I told you earlier, there’s probably a legitimate reason for her not coming in with him.”

“No reason is good enough for him not to come back! Don’t you get that? He’s been gone for years and he needs someone he knows and trusts! I can help him through this; I know I can. I owe him that much.”

“You sure about that Cap? Because it seems like you wanting to find him has more to do with your inner demons than you think. You don’t owe him anything; what happened to him wasn’t your fault. He’s a soldier, he knew the risks when he signed up. ”

“He didn’t sign-“

“Not the point I’m trying to make here Steve.” Tony closed his eyes for a long moment before putting the blueberries on the computer desk and walking up to stand next to Steve and Natasha. His posture was no longer casual, but a bit pinched at the shoulders.

“After Afghanistan, hell even after New York, I had a lot of problems. You guys know how hard it was for me to be around everyone. Sometimes it takes being around a stranger, someone who’s been through what you have but doesn’t really know too much about you personally to really be able to get to the bottom of the issue and work it out. I know that’s what helped me, going to the Vet meetings at the church.” And talking with Rowan till all hours of the night at the top of Stark Tower. Though Tony left that part out. Rowan was adamant she “wanted to keep her badass black soul reputation fresh.”

Natasha kept reading the computer screens, typing fervently trying to get a better angle on the suspected Bucky and Rowan. She understood where Tony was coming from, and figured he might be able to get it through the super soldiers thick head about why Bucky might not come running home.  Steve looked down at his boots guiltily. Tony grabbed his blueberries and started for the door.

“And you both know how much I hate going to church. Oh and better get a glimpse of them while you can. JARVIS shows that the scrambler Rowan has on her car is about to finish calibrating.” Tony turned, posture casual once again, and walked out the metal framed door. Natasha slammed her fist on the desk as all the camera angles turned to black screens. Steve fell into a chair and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw stars.

-TTA-

“How do you know we’re out of sight? We’re still pretty close to the city. There’s camera’s everywhere.” Bucky tried to remain casual in the passenger seat as Rowan struggled to find a parking spot outside of a Kohl’s on the southwest side of Chicago. It was busy for a Monday morning but Bucky needed new clothes and she’d rather get everything before they start their road trip than have to stop halfway through.

“All of my vehicles are equipped with Stark scrambling technology. Tony is aware but he won’t let Nat and Steve know about it. We had a little chat last night.” Bucky pursed his lips and gave a short nod as Rowan parked and turned off the car.

As they walked into Kohl’s, Rowan clicked a button on her key fob to lock the Camaro. As Bucky heard the car beep to signal its lock, all the store lights went out for a few seconds before turning back on. Bucky looked around cautiously as the employees mumbled about the systems rebooting.

“There’s a scrambler in my key fob too. Stark really likes me.” Rowan had a cheeky grin on her face as she grabbed a cart and strolled to the men’s section, grabbing Bucky’s arm along the way.

About an hour later they had checked out and were on I-80 heading west. Old school rock drifted quietly out of the speakers. It wasn’t necessarily an uncomfortable silence, but Bucky hated it. He found himself wanting to speak. About something, anything. He didn’t really care.

“So, uh Rowan, where exactly are we headed?” He kept his gaze shifted out the window, watching the gargantuan white windmills as their propellers gently lulled through the air, creating energy for who knows how many homes out here.

“Faith, South Dakota. After we load up on supplies we’ll head out to the Cheyenne River Reservation. I figure we camp out there for a couple weeks then head up to Vancouver. I’ve got a safe house up there no one knows about. We can grab my other passports and have some made for you. Then Juneau to a charter plane that will take us to St. Lawrence Island and last but not least I’ve got a friend who owes me a favor. He said he can get us as far west as Japan. 

“We’ll have to figure out the rest of the plan from there. It’s the third of April. I figure by the end of this month we should be touching down in Japan. That should be enough time for them to already do a big sweep overseas.” Bucky was impressed by how in depth Rowan had already planned their travel. He still had a few concerns though.

“Won’t they be searching everywhere until they find us? If Steve is still the same as I remember, he won’t stop.”

“You’re right Mr. Barnes, Steve isn’t gonna stop, and as much as Nat loves me I doubt she’ll actively try to stop him from finding us. Tony is pretty complacent for me to work with so if I need him to throw them off our trail I’ll call him. But it’ll be fun to see how long that’ll take.”

“Why are we camping out in South Dakota for half the month? Why don’t we just get out now while we have them scrambled?” Bucky figured she was going to answer the same way his own thought process was heading, but he just wanted to see how aligned their thinking was. 

His brain was still itching every time he tried to think too hard about how familiar Rowan was. He was getting better at ignoring the alarm going off in his head when he saw her face, though he still wasn’t confident that was the best thing to do.

“Barnes, seriously? I know you know why I’m doing this. Is this some sort of trust test? Wouldn’t it be more entertaining to do some trust fall exercises instead? I promise I won’t drop you.” The teasing in her voice deepened her accent. 

It was a pleasant sound Bucky decided; not like some of the other women’s voices he recalled from his time in HYDRA. The thicker accent and her playful banter lightened his mood. Rowan eyed him. From this view she could see the edges of his eyes crinkling up ever so slightly; a tell-tale sign that he was about to let out a smile.

“Letting you drive is enough trust testing I can handle for any twenty four hour period.” Bucky rubbed his chin with his flesh hand. The crinkles moved from his eyes to his forehead.

“Hey! I’m an excellent driver.” Rowan took her eyes completely off the road when Bucky didn’t have a response. She had been trying to come off as less edgy than she was accused of being in the past. Sometimes she got too into the mission on hand. 

She kept reminding herself this wasn’t technically a mission or a job. She was helping someone. When her emerald eyes met the downcast face of Bucky she turned off the radio. He was glaring at his left hand, rubbing his fingers from his right hand over the silver palm.

“I can’t tell if I can really feel anything with it, or if it’s just my brain playing tricks on me since I know what my other hand is doing.” Rowan could hear the disparity in the man’s voice. She hopped over a couple lanes to catch the visitor’s stop just in time, narrowly missing getting clipped by a semi. Bucky sat rigid in his seat.

“Come on, out we go.” The tall woman held Bucky’s door open expectantly waiting for him to emerge. She grabbed his flesh hand and led him down the dirt path into a small cluster of trees, hitting her key fob as they went. She slowed as they passed the cluster of young birch trees and turned, grabbing Bucky’s left hand.

“Close your eyes. Go on, we haven’t got all day you spoon.” Bucky raised a thick eyebrow at the odd insult before closing his eyes slowly.

“Take a deep breath. There you go. Just relax.” She released his right hand from hers and it dropped softly to his side. She only held his left hand. It was a weird sensation. He could feel her hand, the warmth. 

It was a little sticky with sweat. He grasped it and ran his thumb over her palm; softly at first, then a bit harder. He could almost feel the creases in her hands. He felt where the ridges from the plates caught on Rowan’s callouses running along her palm and fingers, hard from years of action, like his remaining flesh hand.

She took his arm and led him to a patch of day lilies. He outstretched his hand carefully. He could feel how delicate they were. He lightly brushed his hand through the patch of flowers and the edges of his eyes creased in an almost smile at the feather light sensation. They were cool to the touch. He was sure he could tell they were supposed to be velvety smooth. But again, he just wasn’t quite convinced.

“See, you can feel. It’s not your mind playing tricks on you. I reviewed all your files. They connected your nerves to different parts of the arm. It’s pretty much your own, just a different color... And material I suppose, but that’s all semantics. Personally I think you pull off silver over gold any day.” Bucky looked up at Rowan’s teasing voice. 

Her eyes were bright in the mid-morning sun. Her auburn hair fell over the right side of her face, she brushed it back and outstretched her hand to Bucky’s own. He took it with his left, the urge to try to feel everything with it stronger now. Rowan pulled Bucky up swiftly from his kneeling position and let go as he brushed dirt off his knees.

They walked silently back through the small wooded patch in a content silence. Rowan was staring ahead, in deep thought it seemed. Bucky wondered what she could be thinking about. Did she still not know if going all over the world with him until he regained his memories was the best idea? If she didn’t, he couldn’t argue with her. He didn’t even think it was a good idea. He was still on the fence about it himself. 

She seemed like she had good intentions, and she claimed to be a friend of Steve’s. Something he wasn’t entirely sure of, Steve and Rowan didn’t seem compatible. Steve was a straight-laced guy. Rowan seemed a little… off the deep end on some matters. But people changed. Last time he remembers interacting with Steve he was a bit edgier.

Bucky shook his head. He was starting to get a headache from all this thinking. He closed his eyes briefly as he walked, the warmth radiating off Rowan half guiding him through the small trees. He heard birds chirping, Rowan’s leggings making a soft swooshing sound as her thighs brushed against each other as she took otherwise silent steps next to him; a little further off he could hear the droning of the cars and trucks zooming down the interstate. 

How simple their lives must be compared to his. He wondered how that would feel; worrying about mundane things like how much it would be to fix the car, what to make for supper, how much the next doctor’s office trip would run him. He also heard a low male voice coming from their twelve o’clock. It seemed Rowan caught it a few moments after him.

Rowan looked towards Bucky, semi-alarm running along her features. There was no way any cameras pinged their location. No way would she or Bucky not have noticed someone following them. 

And while she was sure every agent of SHIELD, HYDRA, FBI, CIA, or any other flavor of government agency had been alerted to Bucky’s status, she doubted they’d have people actively driving cross country looking for them. The only person besides herself and Bucky who knew about the Camaro was Tony Stark. He’d helped her rebuild the engine a few years ago on a slow weekend.

Bucky rounded the corner first, putting himself in front of Rowan. Instinct he supposed, though he didn’t think it was from his Winter Soldier days. Rowan poked her head around Bucky’s shoulder, not having to reach much at all, already being almost his height already. They saw two men walking around the Camaro, trying to nonchalantly peek inside. 

Bucky assumed the black Jeep Cherokee idling in park next to the Camaro was what they pulled in on. The two men, who looked to be in their late twenties, wore dark hoodies, with beanies pulled tight over their heads. One had a handgun tucked into the back waistband on his jeans and the other had one on the side of his right hip, tucked into a holster, hoodie doing a poor job of concealing it.

Bucky rolled his shoulders and grabbed for the glock he had secured under the waistband of his pants. Gripping the gun with his right hand, the gears of his left arm whirred lowly as it calibrated, something he figured happened when he told his arm to flex when he was preparing for a fight. 

Rowan laid a firm hand on his forearm, effectively stopping him from charging the two men. She put a slender finger to her lips before she motioned for them to keep listening and watch them. Bucky took a deep breath and let it out quietly through his lips. He tried to stop the shaking throughout his hands.

“You sure it’s just been sitting here? No one has been here?”

“No dude, this chick and her boyfriend headed out to the woods like twenty minutes ago. Probably just fuckin’ around. Let’s get it and go before they come back.” The guy turned towards the woods, keeping an eye out for anyone walking back. Rowan and Bucky ducked behind the thick brush by the opening of the trail.

“Shit, okay let’s hurry then.” Rowan and Bucky exchanged a relieved look. Weight seemed to be lifted from both their shoulders as they realized the two men were merely low life car-jackers. No special agents from either side of the law coming to get them, yet at least. 

The day was young. Rowan pulled her fob out of the small pocket from the inside waistband of her leggings and hit a button. A loud, shrill alarm went off. Both men threw their hands over their ears and turned around quickly. Rowan stopped Bucky from coming out of the woods.

“Your face is all over social media and the news. I can handle these guys. I won’t even need your gun.” She winked his way then stepped out, conveying the posture of a scared woman. The men grabbed their guns when they noticed Rowan all alone. She didn’t even give them a chance to put their fingers on the trigger before she pressed the fourth button on the key fob. 

One Bucky hadn’t seen her press yet. A light blue surge of energy exploded from the undercarriage of the Camaro, knocking both men to their feet. Rowan turned slightly and motioned for Bucky to come forward. As he drew nearer he made the assumption that both men were unconscious.

Producing two sets of handcuffs from a hidden compartment in the truck, Rowan tossed a set to Bucky. He followed Rowan’s actions and pulled the man into the back seat of the Jeep. He cuffed one arm before looping the short metal chain through the ‘oh shit’ handle and securing the man’s other arm. Rowan produced a cell phone from somewhere Bucky didn’t want to focus too hard on and dialed a number she knew by heart.

“Hey Tobey. Yeah I got a couple of guys out your way who were trying to car jack me. No not the Impala. It’s still safely tucked away in New York. My Camaro. Yeah that one. No I’m not getting his autograph for you. I just need to make sure the cops get them but I don’t have time to wipe my prints and such. I’ll take care of everything else for you. Great! Thanks Tobes. Yeah I’ll get with you soon. Bye.” Rowan hung up and tucked the phone away. 

Bucky stood with his back to the Jeep, facing the woods. He was still trying to subdue the shaking in his hands. He almost jumped when Rowan sidled up beside him. She kept her gaze forward.

“Ya know if I didn’t know any better I’d say we need to get your blood sugar up some. My hands get shaky when I don’t eat often enough. There’s a McDonald’s at the next exit. Sound good?” Bucky knew his blood pressure wasn’t low, and he knew Rowan knew that too. But he still appreciated the gesture.

“Yeah, sounds good to me.” Truth was, he was itching for a fight. His body was shaking slightly, his head on fire. It was almost as if he could physically feel the painful urge to end those men’s lives. 

He was ashamed of himself. He wasn’t on the battle field, this wasn’t a professionally trained operative coming to kill him. This was an every-day petty crime event. Childs play compared to some of the things he was used to being around.

He took a small step towards the Camaro before he staggered a bit, a dull throb encasing his head. A dim memory made its way to the forefront of his brain. A little brown-haired boy, with a smaller brown-haired girl next to him, sat in a well-lit living room. Bucky felt himself stretch and pop his neck as he kept his eyes on the children. They were playing checkers.

“Haide, soldat, nu avem toata noaptea. Acesta este jocul copiilor. Finalizati-le.” The harsh Romanian voice cut through the earpiece, like gravel sliding across glass it ended the silence that had been surrounding him. He lifted his sniper rifle, eye piece easing into place a few inches away from his alert blue eyes.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of that memory, and moved to open the car door as a white hot pain travelled from behind his eyes down his spine. Lighting up every nerve ending as if they were being electrocuted individually. He opened his eyes wide and frantically searched for Rowan over the top of the blue car.

“Rowan, I… something’s wr-“ He tried to finish his sentence but everything went black.

#marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky x oc #bucky oc #bucky barnes fanfiction #the winter soldier #james barnes #ihavetheissue #this time around #rowan oconnor #roadtrips and lillies #marvel fanfiction #shield #hydra #steve rogers #captain america #natasha romanoff #black widow #sebastian stan #katheryn winnick #tony stark #iron man #civil war #avengers