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#william afton x reader fluff
ruh--roh-raggy · 2 months
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Flowers For My Valentine (Steve Raglan x Fem! Reader) - Valentine's Day Special
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Hello hello and Happy Valentine's Day my lovelies! We have some sweet and flirty Steve Raglan this time around thanks to a wonderful Anon who made a request (this was so fun thank you so much!) If you would like to see more of this, more fnaf in general, or would like to be added to my tag list please let me know!
WARNINGS: Age gap (Reader is in her late 20's, Steve is in his early 50's), office romance, flirting, mutual pining, reader very briefly talks about how she doesn't feel good enough, some swearing, not proofread, if I missed any please let me know!
You can find my Masterlist here! ~ AO3 Link!
Word Count: 6,189
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“Good morning Linda!” You greet your co-worker jovially.
“Oh, perfect, you're here.” She waves you over, her long bright red acrylics clacking together. “Could you bring this down to Mr. Raglan’s office? I’d go do it, but he likes you better.” She teases with a chuckle, making your cheeks warm. She hands the pink flier over to you. It was the announcement for the office's annual Valentine’s Day party.
You walk down the plain, beige hallway, the walls lined with matching, cheap doors, their old brass hardware glinting in the fluorescent lights that hang from overhead. You paused in front of the last door on the left, ‘Steve Raglan' printed across the nameplate. You tap softly, a soft smile finding its way to your lips as you hear him call you in. He says your name softly, grinning brightly at you. “What a pleasant surprise.” He motions to the chair across from him. “Please, sit! Um, would you like some coffee? Tea maybe?” He hurries to stand, banging his knee on the desk in the process and making him curse under his breath.
“Mr. Raglan are you okay?” You hurry to his side, your look of pure concern making the older man’s features soften.
“I'm fine rabbit, being around pretty girls just makes me nervous.” He says with a wink. You giggle, growing flustered at his compliment.
“You flatter me, Mr. Raglan.” He gets lost in your eyes for a moment, the playful glimmer in them drawing him in. His gaze flashes down to the paper you held in your hands.
“What do we have here?” He smiles, taking the flier from you. He reads it over silently, running his fingers down his tie. “A Valentine’s Day party, huh?” His silvery eyes flash to yours, a playful smile lacing it’s way across his lips. “Are you going to drag your boyfriend to this thing?”
“Oh, there's no boyfriend to drag along.” You giggle. “I'm probably going to be stuck in some mindless gossip loop with some of the other ladies if I go.”
“If you go?” He repeats the last part of your statement.
“I'm not really a big Valentine's Day girl.” You admit, swaying awkwardly on your heels. “The whole holiday tends to be a bit of a let down if I'm being honest.” Your eyes widened slightly as you realized you were being far too casual. “I'm sorry, Mr. Raglan. I shouldn't be talking about this stuff at work.” You hurriedly tried to head for the door, wanting to excuse yourself as quickly as possible before you became even more flustered. You slam the door behind you, managing to slip into the bathroom just as you heard his office click back open. You silently berated yourself for looking so stupid in front of him. “Let’s just open up to him about every shitty Valentine's we've ever had!” You mock yourself in the mirror. You sigh, studying your reflection. It was silly really. For a brief moment the thought flashed through your head that maybe, somehow, some way, Steve would've asked you to go to the party with him. You splashed some water on your face, reluctantly deciding to go back to the office. Hopefully he would forget about your awkward little interaction by tomorrow.
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“Alright, who is he?” You freeze in your tracks as you walk through the office door.
“Excuse me?” You ask, your gaze trailing up to the reception desk. You were met with the sight of a beautiful, elaborate bouquet made up of yellow, purple, and white flowers.
“They're addressed to you. You better not have gotten a boyfriend and not told me about it, I thought we shared everything!” She pretends to be hurt, making you chuckle.
“We do, you're my work wife, I wouldn't survive without you.” You pout, she laughs, shaking her head slightly. “Was there a card?” Both of your curiosity over the matter bubbled up as you did a quick investigation of the scenario.
“There is, but no name.” She hands the small, cream colored piece of cardstock over to you.
“I know flowers from your secret admirer are cliche, but I wanted to do something special for the woman who never fails to brighten my day.” You couldn't stop yourself from smiling as you read over the message.
“Do you think it's someone in the office?” She asks in a hushed tone.
“I don't see why not. I don't have anyone that would send me flowers at work, even as a joke.” You explain, trying to place a face to the neat script that swirled across the card.
“Wow.” Your eyes snap up to Steve Raglan. His short sleeve, yellow button down with brown pinstripes tucked neatly into his perfectly pressed pants. “Someone's a lucky lady.” He smiles at Linda, more than likely assuming they were from her husband.
“Oh they're not for me, someone has their eye on your best employee.” She states in a teasing tone.
“Is that so?” He shoves his free hand into his pocket, the other holding a comically small looking mug of coffee. “Guess someone might have a date for the Valentine's Party yet.” Warmth pools behind your cheeks as your eyes meet his striking silver ones.
“You didn't happen to see who dropped these off, did you Mr. Raglan?” You ask curiously.
He shakes his head, “I'm afraid not sweetheart, but I'll keep an eye out.” He chuckles. “I have to make sure whoever is trying to catch your attention only has the best intentions in mind for my favorite girl.” You let out a flustered giggle as he winks at you. He pulls his pager off his belt, quickly reading the message. “I'm going to have some new client paperwork that needs to be filed, I'll have it on your desk within the hour if that's alright?”
“Absolutely, Mr. Raglan. I'll take care of it.” You smile brightly at him.
“This is why you're the best!” He compliments you. “Thank you beautiful, I'll be back.” You noticed Linda’s gaze trail after him, watching him intently until he shut his office door behind him.
“Do you think Mr. Raglan might have left you those flowers?��� You choke on your drink, coughing and sputtering as you try to regain your composure.
“Now where the hell did that come from?” You ask in response, unable to meet her eyes as you try to hide your nervous expression.
“Well, you're obviously his favorite, everyone that works for this company knows that. He always compliments you, he’s always telling you how pretty you look or how good of a job you're doing. If it’s anyone in the office my money’s on him.” She rattles off the first few reasons that came to her mind.
“Oh, I don't know about that.” You nervously wring your hands in your lap, staring blankly down at the stack of papers that sat in front of you. “I'm nothing special, plus I'm sure he has a wife.” You try to wave her off.
“I've never noticed a ring.” Your breath froze in your throat as you saw her attention turn to you. A smirk spreads across her lips, “and from how flustered you look right now I'm assuming that someone definitely doesn't mind the attention.” She whispers.
“Okay, okay, hang on.” You wave your hand in front of her, wanting to cut her off before she has the chance to keep snowballing her idea. “If I tell you this, not another soul hears about this, not even Mark!” You point an accusatory finger at her.
“Honey, please, my husband doesn't give a rat's ass about work gossip. Tell me everything.” She leans an elbow on the desk as she spins her chair to face you, taking a long sip of coffee from her mug as she waits patiently for the details.
“I might have a bit of a thing for him.” You admit, your cheeks already heating up at the simple confession. “He's funny and charming and handsome and… I don't know, I feel so stupid.” You groan, dropping your head into your hands.
“You shouldn't feel stupid.” She rushes to reassure you. “You are a gorgeous young woman, I'm sure he would be absolutely flattered-”
“It's not even about that.” You sigh. Linda gives you an incredulous look in response. “Okay, maybe it is a little about that. But, on top of the fact that he could just outright reject me, he's my boss, he's quite a bit older than I am, he's going to get to know me and see that I'm just some stupid young kid and it's going to make things weird here and I'm going to have to quit my job because of it.”
“I think someone is overthinking this way too much.” She laughs, shaking her head slightly.
“I get it, it's scary. There's a lot of unknowns and different ways it could all pan out. But, you'll never know if you don't try. I'm not saying burst in there right now, rip your clothes off, and try to seduce him.” You can't help but laugh at her over the top idea. “All I'm saying is maybe make a little effort to flirt with him, test the waters, see how it feels.”
You sigh, leaning back in your chair, “I don't even know how to even try if I'm being completely honest.”
“Listen up, buttercup, it's time for a crash course in office flirting 101.” She laughs.
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You smooth your blouse as you stand in front of the last office on the left, repeatedly reading over the name ‘Steve Raglan’ printed in neat gold lettering in front of you as you try to build up your confidence. You tap softly on the door, waiting for the quiet ‘come in’ before entering. “Finished up with that paperwork already?” He smiles brightly at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he speaks.
“Yessir, I just wanted to come hand deliver it myself.” You shoot him a coy grin.
“Can I interest you in some coffee?” He asks, still reading from the paperwork you handed him, expecting you to flit out of the room like you normally did.
“Do you have any tea?” You saw him pause, his brows furrowing slightly before he looked up at you.
“I do.” It took him a moment to continue, still trying to process the situation. “Why don't you sit down, I'll put the kettle on.” You nod, plopping down into one of the slightly too hard chairs that sat opposite him at his desk. You can't help but giggle as you glance over your shoulder to find Steve studying you.
“You seem a bit surprised that I stayed.” He snaps himself from his thoughts.
“I am, if I'm being honest. I feel like every time I invite you to stay for a cup of tea you practically sprint out of here.” He chuckles, slowly walking back to his desk and sitting across from you. “I'm not that scary am I?”
You shake your head, “no, you're not. I think you're sweet, Mr. Raglan.” You fidget with your fingers for a moment before deciding to take a rather bold approach to the flirting Linda had suggested. “Being around handsome men just makes me nervous.” You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, watching as the realization set in that he had said something very similar to you the day prior.
He breathes out a laugh, a smile lacing its way across his lips. “Well, thank you rabbit. I'm flattered that a pretty little thing like you thinks I'm handsome. Also, feel free to call me Steve, I think we know each other well enough at this point, don't you?”
“I think you might be right.” You perk up at the sound of the kettle going off, immediately hopping out of your seat to get it.
“Oh, I can-” you cut him off with a small wave of your hand.
“Steve, you have to be one of the hardest workers I know.” You fill his mug first, carrying it over to him slowly to make sure you wouldn't spill any coffee. “I think you should let someone take care of you for a change.” You wink at him, your hand trailing across his shoulder as you step next to him.
“Well how can I refuse such a tempting offer.” He grins, his silver eyes flashing across your features. You made your own cup of tea before returning to the seat across from him. You feel his gaze trailing over your much smaller form as you carefully cross your legs. “Any leads on that secret admirer of yours?” He asks casually, taking a long sip of his coffee.
“Nothing yet, but I'm hoping I can figure it out soon.” You run your finger along the rim of your mug. “I'm hoping I can manage to find out who it is before the party.” He clears his throat as he shifts himself in his seat slightly.
“Anything's possible isn't it?” He responds, lacing his fingers together as his hands come to rest on his stomach. You were both interrupted by a knock on his door.
“Steve, sorry to interrupt, you got a minute?” It was one of your coworkers.
“I'll stop by later Mr. Raglan, thank you for the tea.” You smiled softly at him, his eyes locked with yours as you stood, smoothing your clothes slightly before sauntering out of the room.
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You jump when somebody calls your name. You look up to see Steve shrugging into his thick, gray jacket. “You're still here?” He asks with a warm smile that makes your heart flutter in your chest.
“I had some emails to send, I was just about to head out myself.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets as he slowly approaches you.
“Would it be alright if I walked you to your car?” He asks carefully, as if he was trying to pin down the exact right way to ask you. “It's late, I want to make sure you get there safely, is all.” You could hear the slight hesitancy in his tone, that fact he seemed almost nervous made you smile.
“That's very sweet of you Steve, thank you.” You smile warmly at him. He helps you into your jacket, stuffing his hands back in his pockets as he slows his long strides so you could keep up easily. “Are you going to be bringing your wife to the Valentine's Day party?” You finally ask after walking in silence for a while.
Steve chuckles, “oh, I'm not a married man, rabbit. I'm afraid it's just going to be me.” You feel your cheeks warm at the sound of his gravelly tone.
“It's a shame, I guess we're both going to be single for Valentine's Day.” You giggle.
“What a shame indeed, I'm very surprised some dumb little boy hasn't tried to scoop you up. A pretty thing like you deserves a man who’ll make her feel special.” He smirks down at your flustered state.
“Well, maybe if I can get to the bottom of who sent me those flowers I could get to the bottom of that.” You brace against the cold as he holds the door open for you. Steve holds his coat open, pulling you into his side and shielding you from the wind.
“You never know, he could be a lot closer than you think.” He winks at you, making you let out a flustered giggle. The end of your nose tingles from the cold as you stop in front of your car. “Have a good night, rabbit.” He smiles softly down at you, his silver eyes searching yours with a subtle intensity.
“Good night, Steve.” You pull open your car door, a dull ache settling in your chest as you watch him start to head off. You called his name, making him pause. He turns to glance back at you, your smaller form moving before you have a chance to overthink the situation. You pushed yourself up onto the tips of your toes, your hand wrapping around his strong bicep as you leaned in, allowing your lips to come to rest against his cheek. “Get home safely.” You whisper, letting your eyes linger on him before you hopped in your driver's seat and watched him walk to his own car with an absolutely dumbfounded expression on his face.
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You were one of the first people in the office this morning. Having to come in early to prepare the conference room for a meeting and to send out reminder emails for said event definitely wasn't your idea of fun, but there was something oddly tranquil about the nearly empty space so early in the morning. You had been called over to one of your coworkers cubicles to help with a paper work issue, smiling at Steve as you watched him push into the room, flurries of snowflakes trailing in through the door behind him. The memory of you kissing him on the cheek the night prior raced to the forefront of your mind, your eyes widened slightly, your cheeks growing warm as you rushed off before he had a chance to confront you about it. You had felt guilty about it, he was your boss, now you've probably made whatever small relationship the two of you had extremely awkward. You looked around as you headed back to your desk, expecting him to emerge from nowhere at any second. You froze when you noticed a red, heart shaped box, all wrapped up with a matching satin bow. ‘These chocolates will never be as sweet as you, but they're the closest thing I could find.’ you smiled as your eyes drifted over the familiar neat script. Once again, the card contained no clues as to who your secret admirer might be. You carefully undid the bow and lifted the lid to find a stunning box of extravagant assorted chocolates. “Another gift from your prince charming?” Linda asks with an excited grin as she roughly tossed her purse and jacket into her chair.
“The funniest part is… these definitely weren't on my desk when I got here. They must have just been dropped off.” She eyes you curiously before looking around at the possible suitors within the small space. You noticed her lips pull into a smile as her eyes locked onto someone.
“Well, good morning Mr. Raglan.” Your blood turned to ice in your veins at the mention of his name.
“Good morning ladies, I hope you're having a good day so far.” You reluctantly turn to face him at the sound of your name. “Another present?” His eyes dart down to the half open box before returning to your face.
“Um, yes sir.” You squeak in response. “Still no name though.” You giggle.
“Shame…” he trails off as he studies you. “I hope he reveals himself soon, I'd like to know who's keeping that pretty smile on your face.” He winks before quickly turning and heading off.
“Something happened between you two, I can feel it.” She narrows her eyes, passing you your own mug of coffee as she settles in with her own. “Spill.”
“So, remember how you brought up that whole flirting thing?” She nods. “Well, I may have pushed things a little further than just, you know, giggling and fawning over his muscles, right?” Her silence was making your nerves run rampant. “I may or may not have kissed him on the cheek when we were parting ways last night.” She gasps your name in shock. “It felt right, okay!” You yell-whisper. “He walked me out to my car, I had already been flirting with him a little bit earlier, he was being his usual sweet and handsome self… I don't know what came over me, it just sort of happened.” You bury your face in your hands.
“What did he say?” She pushes your shoulder lightly to regain your attention.
“I don't know, I got in my car and I left.”
“Are you kidding me? You kissed him and then just walked away?”
“On the cheek!” You rush to clarify.
“On the cheek or not doesn't matter, what if that could have turned into something more?”
“Doubtful-”
“But how do you know?” Your mouth snapped shut at her statement. “Give yourself a little more time to feel things out, but I would say after that you should definitely try to make things a little more serious.”
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You tapped softly against Steve’s office door, a pile of folders situated neatly in your grasp. He calls you in, his back facing you as you enter the room. You wait patiently for him to finish up the phone call he was on, jumping slightly as he slams down the receiver. He groans as he spins in his chair, massaging the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “I swear, they always stick me with the worst damn clients.”
“It's because you’re the best career counselor in the state, if anyone can solve hopeless cases it's you.” You laugh softly, Steve brightens up at the compliment.
“Why thank you bunny.” He says before letting out a quiet chuckle. “I don't know about the best, but flattery will get you everywhere young lady.” He winks at you, making your cheeks grow warm.
“I brought you Mr. O’Malley’s file, along with the applications and other paperwork for the company's we work with that hire people with criminal records. Is there anything else you'd like from me?”
“For you to come to dinner with me tonight.” The request rang in the otherwise silent room like a gunshot. You could hear the blood rushing behind your ears as you processed whether or not you had heard him correctly. “You've been working a lot of late nights, if it's alright with you I'd like to handle things for you for a change.” He smiles warmly at you, you stared back at him with a shocked, empty expression as your mind struggled to catch up with your words.
“I…” you trail off, the warmth in his eyes quickly turning into an expression of panic.
“Sorry if I overstepped, you can say no I won't be offended.” He hurries to apologize.
“Steve.” You jolted slightly at how forceful your own voice came out. You sucked in a deep breath in an attempt to steady your pounding heart. “I would love to. You didn't overstep, I'm just… surprised?” It came out as more of a question but that felt fitting for the moment. You were beyond excited, still not fully believing that he had just asked you to dinner.
“Why's that rabbit?” He rests his chin in the palm of his hand as he leans on his desk, his expression more perplexed than anything else.
Your hand slid over the cool metal doorknob. “It’s just kind of hard to believe that the most handsome man I've ever met is asking me to have dinner with him later.” Your lips pull into a coy smile. “I'll see you later tonight, Steve.” You quickly slip out of his office, heading quickly back to your desk. You decided it was best to wait to mention this to Linda, your nerves were already running rampant as it was. You tried your best to get through the rest of the work day without looking suspicious, but her sharp eyes noticed how frequently you checked the time, how you nervously flipped your pen in between your fingers as you sat idly at your keyboard.
She swivels her chair to face you, her long acrylics drumming rhythmically across the desk. You internally cringe as you watch her eyes narrow. “Spill-”
“He asked me to dinner.” The pressure was immediately too much. “I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want to be thinking about it all day but I can't stop.”
“I'm sorry, you didn't want to tell me about the biggest development in your love life since I've met you? He's so into you, this is going to be great!” She tries to encourage you.
“What if he doesn't like me? What if I'm boring or I'm not what he thought I would be like outside of work?” You start to ramble out your anxieties.
“Slow down, that's not going to happen. You are so cool, I need you to remember that.” She starts to dig around through her purse, producing a few makeup products and some tissues. “Go touch up if you want to, I can hold down things here.” You quietly thank her, heading to the bathroom to freshen up your makeup.
The remainder of the day crawled by until five o'clock eventually rolled around. Linda sat at your side, fussing over your hair and trying to convince you to remove the sweater you were wearing to reveal the slinky black cocktail dress you were currently wearing as a skirt. “I'm going to freeze to death.” She practically throws her jacket at you.
“I know exactly which dress that is, you look hot as fuck in it. Give me the sweater.” She orders. You groan and reluctantly pull it over your head, tossing it at her before standing and slipping your arms into the satin lined sleeves. “Heading out, Mr. Raglan?” She couldn't hide the excited tone in her voice as you heard his heavy footsteps approach behind you.
“As long as this pretty little thing is ready to go.” You turn to face him, your cheeks warm as you try to hide your flustered expression. “You look beautiful, rabbit.”
“I'll see you tomorrow Linda.” You smile as he offers you his arm, guiding you into his side as you leave the building together.
He opens your door for you, holding your hand as you lower yourself into the impeccably clean vintage muscle car. He slides into the driver's seat with a soft groan, his gold framed aviators glinting in the setting sunlight. A smile spreads across his face as he studies you in the seat next to him. He silently starts the car, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he turns to back up. As he sits back down his arm remains in place, his large warm hand settling on your arm and pulling you to him. You lean in and place a soft kiss to his cheek, your eyes immediately darting down to your lap. He chuckles, taking your chin between his fingers and running his thumb over your bottom lip. “You better be careful, you might get yourself into trouble doing things like that.” He chuckles, watching your eyes widen under his hungry gaze.
Steve drove you to a cute little bistro that overlooked the river that ran through town. With you tucker safely away into his side to brace against the cold he led you inside. You were sat in a corner, tucked away from everyone else. He ordered for you, wanting you to just enjoy your evening. “Thank you for coming with me.” He says with a bashful smile.
“Thank you for asking me.” Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched his large, calloused hand reach across the pristine white table cloth to envelope your own.
“The Valentine's Day party is tomorrow.” He suddenly chimes in. You hum in response, eyeing him curiously. “Have you decided if you're going or not?”
“I've definitely been considering it. At the very least I'd get to see you, if anything.” You smile warmly.
“You're sweet.” He gives your hand a soft squeeze. “I'll never understand why you willingly choose to spend time with an old man like me.” Your eyes snapped to him, your heart beginning to race as you debated just putting all of your feelings out into the open.
“Well,” your voice shakes when you finally find the nerve to speak, “that's because I-”
“You folks have a wonderful night.” Your jaw snaps shut as the waiter approaches your table to drop off your check.
“You, what, rabbit?” You search his features for a moment, the building confidence spurring you forward had fizzled out in an instant. You slowly pulled your hand out of his, folding it neatly in your lap, he quickly copied your motions.
“I just think you're really easy to talk to.” You mumble, fidgeting with your fork in front of you. “It should be me who's confused.” You try your best to force out a laugh. “I'm just some dumb little post grad who can't find a job in her field, I'm nothing special Steve.”
“Did you know, it took me seven years to find a job in my field after I graduated college?” His voice came out gentler than you had ever heard it. “Bunny just because you're at a different point than you thought you'd be by now doesn't mean that you're not special or that you're falling behind or any way you could look at it. I look forward to coming to work everyday not because I give a singular fuck about what I do, let's not get that confused.” His crass statement made you giggle, you notice your lightening composure made his shoulders relax slightly. “I look forward to coming in every day because I know that you're going to be there. You're going to bounce into the office in your pretty outfits with your cute little heels and that infectious smile of yours… Honey, I know it's hard to see from the outside looking in, but you are a goddamn treasure to have in my life.” He chuckles. Your cheeks burned as you fidgeted with your fingers in your lap.
“Thank you Steve, it's nice to hear something so positive from someone I admire so much.” He settles your tab, walking to your side of the table to offer you his hand. You smile softly, allowing your fingers to ghost over his rough, calloused skin.
“I don't like seeing my girl looking so down.” You squeeze his hand, your fingers pushing through his as he gently tugs you towards the door. You rode back to the office in a comfortable silence. Steve's arm draped over your shoulder as you settled into his side, the warmth creeping into your body from his own making your eyes heavy. As you pulled in you were a bit reluctant to leave. Every subtle, slightly too long glance made your heart thrum, the way you pressed into him felt like a puzzle piece finally slotting into its perfect match. Being with Steve felt like home.
“I had a great time with you tonight.” You state softly in the small space.
“Same here rabbit.” He carefully reaches out, tucking some stray hair behind your ear. “I do have one more, albeit strange, question for you.” He chuckles.
“And what might that be?” You found yourself leaning in closer to him, your gaze slowly falling to his lips that were tantalizingly close.
“Will you dance with me?” As intoxicating as the idea of kissing him was, you were definitely more perplexed by the offer that had just materialized before you.
“I would love to.” Steve found a station playing some old love song, the trumpet’s lazy melody bringing a smile to your face as your stomach filled with butterflies. His strong arm slides around your waist, pulling you to him as softly as he could manage. He treats you as if you were made of glass, as if the smallest rough movement would have you shattering beneath his fingers. The bright light of the full moon made you glow before Steve's eyes.
“You look so beautiful rabbit.” He whispers. You allow him to effortlessly spin you around the pavement, your movements easily falling in time with his. The world around you faded away, leaving nothing but you and him and the dreamy, far off sound of the radio drifting from his car speakers. He dips you low, your body falling into his hands with complete trust. As you pull back up your eyes find his, striking silver that only seemed to draw you in deeper. He takes a step back from you, bringing your knuckles to his lips.
“You're a wonderful dancer.” You compliment with a soft giggle. He holds you close to him as he guides you back to your car. He opens your door, holding your hand in his as you lower yourself into your driver's seat.
“You're not so bad yourself.” He grins down at you, shooting you a wink. “Goodnight rabbit.”
“Goodnight Steve.” You couldn't keep the sad smile off your face as he turned to leave.
“You deserve someone who's going to choose you every day, not that it would be a hard choice.” He chuckles. “Bunny, you're beautiful, funny, kind, smart. Anyone would be lucky to have you by their side… especially me.” He states in a hurried tone before leaving you to sit in the still, silent night.
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The next morning started out just like any other. You went through your daily routine the same way you always did. But, you couldn't shake the memory of what Steve had said to you the night before. ‘Anyone would be lucky to have you by their side… especially me.’ You finished off your makeup before grabbing your coat and heading out the door. You greeted your coworkers in your usual chipper tone as you made your way to your desk. You were met with the sight of a small, yellow plush sitting on your desk, a rose situated neatly in his lap. You picked it up with a smile, rubbing its soft, velvet ear between your fingers as you study it. The note that was left with it contained a single sentence. But, those three words were enough to tell you exactly who your secret admirer had been this whole time. You struggled to keep your composure as you repeatedly traced over the neat script that you now recognized perfectly. “To my rabbit.” You breathe out through a laugh, your vision blurring as tears welled up in your eyes. You cradle the stuffed animal close to your chest, hurrying down to Steve's office. You didn't bother knocking, pushing through the door to find Steve answering emails, an alarmed expression on his face as he whips around to face you.
“Bunny are you o-” you wave your hand in front of him, cutting him off as you try to find the right words to say.
“I'm falling for you.” The confession hung thick in the air after it fell from your lips. Steve blinked a couple times, his brows furrowing together in confusion. “I'm tired of hiding this from you. I was worried what would happen if I told you, I mean, you're my boss, you could fire me right now and there's nothing I would be able to do about it.” Both of you laugh, the tension melting slightly at your small joke.
“I take it you found out who your secret admirer is.” A smile stretches across his lips as his gaze darts down to the rabbit in your hand.
“Why didn't you just tell me?” You sniffle, a tear trailing down your cheek. He pushes himself out of his seat with a soft groan.
“Because, I had convinced myself that you could do a lot better than me.” He takes your hands in his. “But, I'm starting to realize that's not true…” He smiles as he studies how small your hands were in his. “Sure, I can't give you all the money in the world, I can't buy you fancy jewelry at the drop of a hat, I don't live in a mansion…” he sucked in a deep breath to steady himself before continuing. “What I do know is that I want to be the one to pick up the pieces when your world feels like it's falling apart, I want to be the one to hold you tightly in my arms while we drift off to sleep at night. I want to be able to choose you day in and day out because I can't imagine a more perfect woman to fall in love with.” You looked away from him, your cheeks streaked with tears.
You reached out, grabbing him by his toe to yank him down to your level. His lips crashed into yours, two strong hands finding their way to your waist to steady both of you. As you tried to pull back you felt his fingertips press into the soft flesh of your hip, keeping you rooted in place as he drank in every second of this moment. You both separated with a soft gasp, your lungs burning with need for air. “Steve?”
“Yes my beautiful bunny?” He responds breathlessly, tilting your chin up gently with his finger.
“Will you be my Valentine?” He chuckles, no words were needed for you to know his answer. He captures your lips in a much softer, more tender kiss that leaves you feeling light headed.
“Does this mean I should get you more flowers?”
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Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @loudchaosking @residentevilbeast @weirdoartist21 @lokanda @emmbny @yukkkiki @dij-ology @maria-moll (if you would like to be added please let me know!)
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liquid-geodes · 1 year
Note
Okay, I think I’ve got a writing prompt: Someone gives a birthday present to Blind Springtrap. What is it and how would he react?
Oh I have an idea that makes reader look STUPID
Fazbear's Fright had, miraculously, been open and operating for a whole year as of today. Somehow the building had avoided going up in flames, although the wiring and AC units were still considered hazardous. They were lucky you showed up for your night shifts and kept an eye on things, otherwise the building might have actually gone up in smoke, leaving its star attraction without a home.
Springtrap had gained a lot of popularity throughout the year, his life-like movements and predator-like mannerisms gave the thrill seekers who visited exactly what they wanted, and then some. And of course you knew Springtrap enjoyed the hunt as well, barring incidents where guests would move objects into his path that he just couldn't account for and trip him up. You always took great care in resetting the room after those visits, guiding Springtrap around the room so he could become acquainted with the items once more. No matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to set the furniture back in the exact place he was used to, so guiding him through was a perfect middle ground, one that he appreciated wholeheartedly.
A year was a long time for an attraction of this type to remain open, especially since they only gained traction in the months leading up to Halloween, but Springtrap alone managed to keep people coming back for more and attracted new patrons who wanted to see what all the hype was for. You got to know Springtrap well in the off time you had together. You had learned that he wasn't at all what the company made him out to be.
He was alive.
It had startled you at first sure, but it quickly gave way to sympathy. You couldn't imagine living life like that, always in pain, forced to pretend like you're an object that belongs to a company every single day. It sucked knowing he lived like that.
Eventually he opened up more about the suit as well, even describing what it had looked like in its heyday. He had described it so vividly; a golden rabbit with a purple bow tie and vest speckled with stars, bright green eyes and whiskers to tie it all together. He didn't much resemble that anymore, and it was hard even picturing him in such a state at all.
He had supplied you with the name of the diner the suit came from: Fredbear's Family Diner. A quick search online pulled up old photos of the suit, as well as the men who created it, although he said he never got to meet the owners in his time as an employee. Springtrap spoke fondly of the place though, all things considered, and even expressed how much he missed working there. Apparently he had been quite busy all the time with such limited staff, but he didn't mind it. He even spoke highly of the suit he was currently entombed in, how rare occasions operating it were some of his favorite days.
You didn't need to know he was lying about any of that though. You didn't need to know his real name and title when Dave Miller would suffice. Maybe one day he would come clean, once he trusted you a bit more, but for now it was best if you believed he was just an unlucky security guard.
Regardless of who he was, one thing had been made clear: he adored Spring Bonnie regardless of his fate. So, with the one year anniversary of Sprintrap's arrival to the attraction, a day you lovingly referred to as his "birthday", you set out on an almost impossible task:
You were going to track down a piece of that happy past as a gift.
Fredbear's Family Diner had apparently offered plush toys for a while before closing its doors for good. Golden bears and bunnies were sought after by collectors and fans alike, but somehow you had managed to get your hands on one, after paying a hefty price of course. But it was worth it, for him. Maybe a little piece of his past would bring him joy in a place he couldn't leave.
As you approached his room in the attraction you felt nervous. What if this was the wrong call? What if it actually upset him? Youd come too far and spent too much money on this gift to back out now, so whatever emotional turmoil this little plush rabbit brought would just have to be dealt with later.
Timidly, you knocked twice on the doorframe before entering, though he had already been alerted to your presence once you entered the hall. He knew your footsteps well by now, and often looked forward to hearing them.
"Hey buddy, you know what today is?"
Springtrap turns to face the direction he hears your voice coming from, glassy, silver eyes remaining unfocused in the darkness he sees. He anticipates your answer, though tilts his head in question to humor you.
"It's your birthday!"
A soft groan follows as he turns away from your soft laughter.
"To think it's been a whole year already... that's something worth celebrating! I uh, actually got you something, a gift. I hope you like it, although it's totally okay if you dont!" You ramble nervously, catching the attention of the animatronic as he slowly approaches your voice, his hand reaching out so he doesn't accidentally trample you.
"You didn't have to..." he replies hoarsly, his hand finally meeting your own and grabbing it gently.
"I know I didn't HAVE to, I just.. wanted to. You deserve it."
He tilts his head again but doesn't question your reasoning, and you squeeze his hand gently before flipping it over to access his open palm. You gently set the plush in his hand, guiding his other hand to its head. You bite your lip nervously as he feels around the plush: ears, eyes, hard plastic nose, bowtie... no tail? That was... odd. He had been certain this was a Bonnie plush, and even ran his hands back up to its ears to confirm this.
Then he felt around the eyes once more, much more attentively this time. Then he felt it.
Eyelashes, stitched carefully along the sides of the upper eyelid of the rabbit.
His own eyes widened slightly in realization.
"I know it's not much, but I figured it would be nice to-" You paused, slapping your hand to your forehead, slightly startling the rabbit animatronic in front of you, "Duh! You probably dont even know what you're holding right now!" You realize, chastising yourself mentally for being so forgetful.
"I remembered you said you had worked at Fredbear's, and you liked when you got to play the part of Spring Bonnie when the owners were too busy to do it. It took me a long time to track this thing down, but it was worth it! You are now the proud owner of a genuine Spring Bonnie plush!" Your nerves had slightly subsided as you explained the gift. Clearly you had been excited to give it to him.
His mouth opened, then shut, then repeated a few times, as if trying to find the right words. This was an incredibly thoughtful gift. And William wasn't stupid, he knew these things must be worth a fortune considering how old it was by now. How could you even afford that? Could you still afford to take care of yourself? Would you be able to eat and pay your bills, or-
"So... what do you think?"
Right. He had to say something before you thought he hated it.
"Thank you..." he rasped, "I never thought I'd hold one of these again in my lifetime..."
All at once your anxiety is replaced with overwhelming joy, a big, stupid grin plastering itself on your face. He continued to feel around the plush for a while longer while you idly chatted about the attraction, and how you hoped it had many more years ahead of it. Eventually you get called away for minor maintenance work, leaving Sprintrap alone with his present. It quickly becomes his most prized possession, and he stashes it away somewhere safe as opening time quickly closes in.
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ghostedcas · 11 months
Note
As I sadly can't find any comfort fanfics to do with the reader having burns from fire.
Could you pls write one with William Afton, like the reader is feeling down about them.
If not then it's okay
i absolutely can sweet nonnie !! <3
i wasn't sure what extent you wanted the burns severity to be so i just kinda went with the flow and didn't fully specify, i hope it's alright. i really hope this is up to your expectations, sorry it's so short though :((
william afton x gn!reader
word count: 455
warnings: mentions of trauma, mentions of being burned in a fire, mentions of house fires, mentions of scarring and burns, mentions of death and near death experiences, mentions of death of loved ones, mentions of death of a pet, william calls reader doll. probably ooc william. despite all that angst i swear it's fluffy ToT
a/n: i really hope i was able to do this justice, if i get anything wrong about what it's like to have burn scars please let me know so i can keep it in mind for future requests/fics! <3 also i worked on this while i was in line for the food bank lmao
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you had curled up under the blankets on the couch as you watched the movie you had selected on netflix. snuggled in a hoodie and baggy sweat pants, you were feeling a little upset over the burn scars on your arms and legs.
nothing in particular had happened to trigger the insecure feeling today, you had just woken and the feeling overwhelmed you. you had tried to continue on with your day, you really truly did. you had gotten the dishes done and that was it. that was all you had the energy for.
that's how you ended up drowning in blankets and curled up on the couch watching some shitty drama on netflix when william came back home from work.
"love, i'm back! oh-" william called out as he entered the house, tall frame walking through the doorway of the living room and his eyes landed on you. "what's up?"
"just feelin' sad." you responded with a mutter.
"wanna tell me what about?"
"not really... it's dumb."
"well then that's even more of a reason to tell me. so i can tell you to stop being so dumb." william teased, earning a dissatisfied whine from you. "oh come on, my love. tell me what it is. i can't help if you don't tell me"
"just... my burns. do you think they make me ugly?" you ask meekly, pulling the blankets tighter around your body.
"what? where is this coming from? your burns don't make you ugly, my love. you are the most stunning thing i have ever seen, doll. your burns make you interesting and unique. you don't think the scars on my body are ugly. don't be so negative with yourself." the british man says firmly yet softly as he grabs your face in his hands, his touch cold.
"you are perfect, just as you are. even with all your so called baggage." william assured you further, making sure to give mention to your history, the house fire you gained both your physical and mental scars in; having lost your mother and beloved family dog.
he pulls you, and the mass of blankets surrounding you, close as he sits on the couch, leaning down to kiss your forehead. he held you to his chest in silence for what felt like both hours and minutes, cold and bony fingers gently tracing shaped into your back through the layers.
"feeling any better?" will chimes up after a few minutes.
"yeah, i am."
"good, can't have my pretty doll feeling down. especially about their looks." he chuckles.
and suddenly it's hard to feel insecure about the burns as you feel his fingers gently, lovingly tracing the scarred skin of your arm to lull you into relaxation.
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itsbuckytm · 6 months
Text
Lace Skirt. / Mike Schmidt.
summary : mike had been in a lot of under pressure lately. he needed a distraction. a distraction you will never forget of.  warning: fluff – smut a little?? enjoy! 
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Mike made a quick phone call, asking you to fetch his security jacket. His excuse? Claiming he was too fatigued to remember it. However, you were well aware that this was just a clever ruse to slip into the restaurant unnoticed using a straightforward yet highly effective code. With full knowledge of his true intentions, you couldn't help but stifle a chuckle on the other end of the line. In response, Mike subtly cautioned you to maintain a sense of "calm" to avoid raising any suspicion. This was one of the ways he enjoyed exerting control, a concept you'd previously touched upon when discussing "alphas."
While it might have come across as somewhat cringeworthy, Mike successfully conveyed your emotions and encouraged you to embrace your fantasies, especially when it had the potential to enhance the bond between you two. If there was one thing Mike despised above all else, it was the thought of losing you.  
Upon your arrival at the Pizzeria, you took a moment to ensure your attire remained impeccable and unblemished before stepping inside. In contrast, the establishment appeared somewhat lackluster and unwelcoming, which made you consider mentioning it to Mike beforehand. Just before entering, you swiftly retrieved your phone and sent Mike a brief text message, a playful reminder that read: "Hello, handsome. I've arrived. XO."
The "XOs" at the end of your message were unmistakably your signature when Mike felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, prompting him to grab it eagerly. Without any delay, he responded with a thumbs-up, signaling that the door was ready to swing open for you. In his subsequent text, he added, "I hope you wore that Lace skirt I adore."
Certainly, you complied with Mike's request. In fact, before entering the venue, you took care to adjust your skirt a bit lower to combat the cold that greeted you. This adjustment wasn't in your favor, as you had been specifically instructed to wear the shortest skirt possible, which meant enduring the chill and the eerie atmosphere of the place. Mike was clearly in control. Another notification beep sounded just before you tried to signal him poorly with the light from your phone, and you received a message that read, "Meet me in the monitoring room, on the left." 
Clear and efficient. You quickly managed to sneak in correctly with the directive Mike had gave you. Although the animatronics did scared you shitless, you were able to finally arrive in his office. Meaning you’d have to knock on the door, unless Mike was to busy focusing in his monitors, you though. Wrong. Mike had been waiting for you all along, especially when you heard the thick metal door opening. “Coming..” And a voice so familiar, it send shivers down your spine. 
Mike's voice was noticeably hoarse and deeper than usual, and as you approached him, you could see the redness under his eyes. Though it deeply concerned you, with the hope that he would soon find some rest, seeing him in such a state oddly ignited a desire within you for reasons you couldn't quite explain. With a subtle smirk, Mike observed you as you walked closer to him, his fingers revealing an eagerness to touch your skin. However, he wanted to examine something first. He said, "Spin for me, darling."
You obliged, and as you spun around, you felt the flare of your skirt gently brushing against your skin. There was an electric tension between the transparency of the fabric and the chill in the air, and amidst it all, you could have sworn that you caught Mike sneakily lowering his head to steal a glance. In response, you deliberately made the peek more noticeable, swirling a bit longer. In the process, you lost your balance, and your foot accidentally tripped on a cable. But Mike was quick to catch you, securing you in his lap as if it were a graceful rescue. His arms wrapped protectively around your waist, and he playfully remarked, "Seems like your coordination has improved."
"Shh..." You interrupted him with a hushed tone. "I brought your jacket as you requested. Should I...?" He silenced you with a gentle gesture, his fingers lightly brushing against your plush lips, eliciting an uncontrollable blush – a quality he adored about you. As you settled comfortably on his lap, arranging your legs with his, you couldn't help but notice a growing hardness between his thighs. You smirked innocently, hoping he wouldn't notice, and you caught a few muttered curses under his breath. 
While he attempted to conceal his desire, you seized the opportunity to speak for yourself. "Seems like someone is in the mood for a little teasing, huh?" Mike tilted his head, an intriguing glint in his eye, and he contradicted your observation when his fingers sensually trailed from your lips to your thighs. Just as casually, he lifted your skirt, leaning in to place a few tender kisses along your neck. "Well, look who's talking..."
At that instant, you became acutely aware that tonight, your mission was to divert Mike's attention. Regardless of the gravity of the situation, he had mastered your tactics and was keen on applying them beyond the confines of the room. His fingers firmly cupped your butt cheeks, prompting a surprised whimper to escape your lips as your eyes locked with his. With the most wicked smirk, he declared, "I'll make sure everyone knows you belong to me, my princess. I'll ensure it." 
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cozymaples · 5 months
Text
job offer
a/n: part 2
warnings: age gap (within reason, the reader is not a minor of course !) workplace fucking, power imbalance ig? , degradation, cumming!inside without clear consent
steve "i've got a job for you" raglan, who's so desperate to fuck you he doesn't even care about your credentials. steve raglan who can't stop staring at your tits as you sit across from him. "i really need a job," you'd pleaded, desperately.
"you need a job?" he'd ask, hips snapping against your flesh as he pounded you from behind.
you were facedown, bent over his desk, the tits he once ogled at now pressed into the cedarwood beneath you. he keeps his hand beneath your jaw, cradling your neck, but not pressing too tightly.
"uh-huh," you'd answer, though the phrase is stretched through a desperate whine. you can hear him grunting above you, every ounce of his effort poured into fucking you. his pace is agonizing, and you feel your eyes lull back into your skull with pleasure. the only other noise you can hear is his coffee mug, rattling against the desk with each thrust, threatening to spill over his morning dose of caffeine.
"a good pounding is what you needed," he disagrees. "good fucking to get you nice and set, yeah? nice and ready for your workday?" you can't even answer him, moans spilling from your mouth. they double as he degrades you, and you can't explain why it makes you so wet. "harder-!" you plead, and you hear a low snarl rip through his throat. his grip around your neck that had once granted you ease now squeezes tightly with dexterity, and you don't think you could breathe even if you wanted to. you're all fucked-out, near drooling and dizzy and reaching your orgasm. both of you are holding your breath, only moaning through exhales every few seconds. his grip on you is deathly, his cock ramming into you the only thing keeping you grounded.
"come for me, you fuckin' slut. you whore," he antagonizes, demands. it somehow makes your clit throb more, aching with each slap of his balls against it. "wanna hear you," he demands, and his grip on your throat releases just enough for you to spill each and every noise that's been bottled up. "mr. raglan-fuck-!" you spill over, fingernails dragging along the wood beneath you as you unravel him.
"there you go, you fuckin' slut." he coos, "hold still." you gasp as you feel his load shoot inside of you, writhing beneath him. he finally parts from you, and you immediately stand up, turning around to face him as he sits you on his desk. "you're lucky i'm on fucking birth control-" you sputter, and he chuckles. "yeah, well. you're lucky i fuck you at all, so..keep that routine up, if you wanna keep this routine up." you're taken aback at his confidence, and how quickly it makes you succumb to his demands. "..okay." you say, nodding as you smooth out your skirt. "and thank you, by the way-for, um-" you stutter, gesturing with your hands as you gather your belongings. he watches in amusement, and unbeknownst to you, adoration.
"same time next week?" he asks, twirling a pencil between his fingers. you nod rapidly, a small grin growing on your features before exiting the office.
this was a routine you could get used to.
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gh0stsp1d3r · 6 months
Text
𝒢ℴℴ𝒹 𝓂ℴ𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔
Y’all tell me why someone was hating on me saying that I shouldn’t be writing about him. It’s fictional 😩 anyways look at my snookums, he’s so silly and I wanna hug him. No warnings just a fluffy blurb
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You and William had gotten married not too long ago, just a couple years ago.
You pulled out a mug, and made his coffee before he woke up. At least you thought he was asleep.
He hugged you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder as you glanced behind with a small smile.
“Good morning. Thought you were asleep.”
“Well, I was. Then I got up, cause I gotta get to work. And now I’m hugging my wife.” He buried his head in your shoulder.
You could never get tired of that title, it made you smile and turn around, handing him the coffee.
“Well then, you should get ready.”
“Mmm.” He took a sip and grabbed the bagel you also made him. “This is me getting ready.” He said, talking with his mouth full.
“Gross. Talk with your mouth closed.” You rolled your eyes, smiling and watching him wink at you before entering the room and getting his stuff.
“Bye. I love you.” He gave you a kiss before leaving.
“Love you!” You yelled, as he closed the door.
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For a Fluffy Movie!William Afton x reader thing:
Just him having an SO that loves rabbits/bunnies.
You know, they have some cute bunny stuff. They always say rabbits are their favorite animal, etc.
And when they would visit his job, the subject of Freddy Fazbear's pizzaria would eventually come up. It being a favorite restaurant of theirs when they were middle-late teen.
They would always talk about how Bonnie was cool, but Spring Bonnie had always been their favorite, and "It really is a shame that they had to get rid of him. I always thought he was really cool."
And then William would be like, "Oh really now?".
While on the inside, he's kicking his feet and giggling because his personal animatronic was his SO's favorite.
And just basic fluff issues where William buys bunny/rabbit stuff that he thinks his SO would like as little gifts when they're having a bad day.
Maybe even get them a rabbit of their own at some point if he thinks they would be good with one.
He also makes sure to have a bit of rabbit/ bunny decore around his counselor office.
Both because it makes him think of his SO and because he likes how his SO reacts when they notice it.
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whorrorfix · 2 months
Text
not arguing with a dude covered in blood. idgaf ab what you just said and quite frankly i didn’t even hear you over the thoughts of you relentlessly fucking into me. so. do with that what you will.
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hannah-banana-lou · 1 month
Text
Come back to me
So to start off with, i hate a lot of fanfics that include the (y/n) character as a barely legal, fragile, tiny thing that is oblivious to sex because that is just not me! i love alot of fanfics that have a lot of world building, real life issues and are really in depth, mixed in with some smut, steamy romance and fluff. i know this will not be for everyone but for those who do enjoy that, i hope this does it for you!
Husband William afton x Wife female reader - AU.
Planning on making this into a series if people like it!
content warning: marriage issues, smut, verbal abuse, age gap couple - william (early 50's) Reader (mid/late 20's)
UNDER 18'S DNI!!!
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Come back to me (pt.1)
A glance. A kiss. Lips crashing down unto yours. he has you pinned against the bedroom door, panting heavily. Hands exploring places they've been so many times before. yours hurriedly unbuttoning his shirt. desperation. his hooking their way into your sweatpants, teasingly close to where you need him, where you're yearning for him. his kisses moving from your lips, slowly trailing along your jaw before reaching your neck. he bites, suckles and licks the skin there, sending tingles throughout your body, reaching to your core. you're lost in the moment, feeling his beard scratch so deliciously against your skin, his lips soft but desperate. You need this. He needs this.
"mommy!" your ears prick up. the sound of one of your twins calling for you. you ignore it, trying to focus on the present scene unfolding in front of you.
"mommy, look at me!" again. calling for you. you can feel a haze slipping over you. mind going grey, unable to feel the kisses being planted.
a snap of your husbands fingers and you jump. you're in the garden, sitting on the patio next to william. the morning sun is beaming, your two children running around the garden, screaming and giggling. you glance over at william, he is staring at you. the silence between you both brooding ... deafening.
"your children are calling for you. just gonna ignore them?" he grunts out. a dig at you, most definitely.
you shake your head in response, taking the cup filled with coffee off the table, moving it up to your lips and taking a sip, you frown. it's gone cold.
the better part of the morning is spent playing with your children, trying to forget that you have a marriage counselling appointment in the early afternoon. not the first and most definitely not the last. no doubt william will find some excuse to not attend, he thinks marriage counselling is a scam, a waste of money. he refused to even acknowledge the idea until you nagged him for weeks. he eventually gave up.
you're now sat in the car, he's driving. the silence is painful. the drive to the appointment, uncomfortable.
your in the appointment. all his responses are grunts or a few word answers, while you're pouring your heart out, begging for him to just talk to you. a usual occurrence during these appointments.
You stop crying, lost in thought. maybe he was having an affair, it would explain a lot... no. yes. wait... would he do that to you? when would he have the time? god. don't be silly, he isn't cheating on you.... right? Before your mind can trail off anymore the therapist throws a question to you both.
"what are the biggest issues within your marriage? we have discussed this before briefly, however i'm curious as to the individual answers. William, why don't you start us off? yes?"
you glance over at william. he is staring directly at the therapist, poor woman, having to endure his death stare. his eye twitches slightly. he's trying to calm himself before answering. you avert your gaze back to the floor.
"Nothing is wrong with my marriage. i dont believe there are issues" your husband spits out.
the older woman nods, accepting his answer before she turns to you and nods again, signalling for you to answer.
"well... for starters i feel like he doesn't want me around anymore. he avoids me like the plague. there is no love, no affection, no.... no intimacy anymore" you begin.
william adjusts himself in his seat. clearly annoyed at the intimacy comment. you keep your gaze focused on the therapist.
"He wont talk more than a few words to me without snapping at me, he's stopped sleeping in our bedroom, he's taken the spare room instead. i never see him anymore. i'm... i... I've just had enough. it's hard living in a space that you have known as home for many years, yet feel so unwelcome at the same time" you finish. you can feel his stare burning into the side of your head.
the older woman nods again. that's all she seems to do, just nod. it can be quite annoying. she looks between you both.
"Y/N why do you feel like William has become this way with you?"
you sigh, not knowing the answer. you could only answer with what your mind has provided as far fetched ideas over the past few months. you shrug. "i'm not sure. i have a lot of ideas, none that could be close to the truth though" you respond, voice soft, deflated. like you've given up.
"One good way to get your marriage on track is open communication. Y/n why dont you share your ideas with William. it's a good place to start"
you sigh again and look over at william. he is staring at the floor. annoyed written all over his features. he looks over at you
"William..." you start with a sigh. "i... uhm... i have begun to think that maybe... you have fallen out of love with me" his gaze softens, almost looking heartbroken that you could ever think that. he shakes his head. he goes to reach out his hand, it lifts ever so slightly but stops immediately, his fists tightened, a small noise escaping his lips. almost like the whimper of a wounded animal as he quickly avoids your gaze, looking back down at the floor.
you take a moment to process what just happened. what was that noise? sound of affirmation? or denial? maybe his reaction is something to be hopeful for?
"any other ideas you have that you would like to share?" she adds quickly.
you nod, taking a deep breath. you knew he wasn't going to like this one but you had to get it out before the thought consumes you.
"William, i have thought for a while that you are having an affair." you blurt out.
his softened gaze quickly turns to a grimace, furrowed eyebrows. followed with a scoff before he stands up, grabbing your hand "session over. thanks for your time doc, see you next month" he mumbles as he pulls you out the door. the doctor looking more so confused than ever as she watches the two of you leave abruptly.
you get back into the car. oh he's pissed. maybe he is embarrassed that you brought that up? self conscious of how he looks in front of the therapist maybe?
he drives in silence before turning into an empty parking lot near a wooded trail path, probably for dog walkers.
he parks up before turning to you, face twisted with anger "An affair? an affair? .... AN AFFAIR?" He snaps. you nod "it just makes s-" he cuts you off "NO Y/N! NO! the falling out of love i can understand but an affair? i have done nothing to make you think that way"
you look at him confused.
"you're not affectionate. you're only happy when you're around the kids, you're only affectionate in public for 'appearances', you wont sleep in the same bed as me, let alone fuck me anymore, so you must be getting it from someone else!" you angrily snap out, you knew being with an older man would have it's problems but not to this extent.
he rolls his eyes. scoffs. "you're ridiculous. i am not having an affair!"
"it makes more sense than 'i'm stressed' " you quickly respond
he scoffs again but doesn't respond. just stares out the windshield of the car into the woods adorning the outskirts of the parking lot. the forest looked peaceful, serene almost. you continue to stare at him waiting for a response. receiving nothing.
you place your hand on his thigh gently "Will... Bear. please just talk to me... let me in again" you whisper. no response from him. he smiles in his mind at the use of the old nickname for him.
he was your bear. Tall, grumpy and hairy as one. Used to have you in fits of laughter when he would groan and snore, you telling him the attributes resembled a bear when you were first dating. hence the nickname.
Something snaps inside of him.
Your argument before, playing through his mind.
He looks over at you, eyes boring into yours. he reaches his hand out, cupping your cheek. it's been too long since he last touched you.
He moves from your cheek and trails his fingers through the mids of your hair before leaning down, hand clamped on the back of your head, moving you up to meet him halfway, lips on yours. slow. tender. A sense of yearning in the kiss. you let out a small surprised noise. not complaining in the slightest. just surprised, shocked even.
he pulls away ever so slightly, lips still touching. a small protesting whine leaving your lips as you desperately try to kiss him again. he stops you. nuzzling his nose against yours. hot breaths caressing each others skin. his lips soft. as you remember them. a free hand intertwined with your left hand, fingers caressing your wedding and engagement rings.
"I've not fallen out of love with you bunny" he breaks the silence, his words barely above a whisper. desperation. yearning. sadness being carried in his voice.
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didi-writes · 6 months
Text
♡ 𝆬   teacher! William Afton x reader
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characters : 2497
warnings : big age gap (reader is around 20 and William is in his 40s) , teacher x student relationship, mentions of rough home situations, use of darling nickname, non-consensual kiss
notes : not proofread, sorry for any grammar mistakes! hope you enjoy anyways ♡
fluff + gender neutral reader
He sighs, putting down the papers he was grading and turning around in the chair. He faces the classroom, everyone busy chatting or doing whatever. William coughs and stands up, the classroom falls silent and he smiles slightly "I'll be handing out everyone's test from last week now. Let's all overlook it together, hmm?" He says and starts to hand out the papers. Giving each student their test back, William walks over to Y/N, placing the paper down onto their desk. "Meet me after class, please?" He asks, in a low but calm tone. They nod at him and pick up the paper, Y/N's eyes scanning across the letter filled paper, a big red F marked at the top of it.
They sigh and look back up at William again, who has now returned to the front of the classroom. "If any of you have any questions while I explain all the questions that were given on the test save them until I'm done, yeah?". William Afton, was Y/N's history teacher, he was fairly older than themselves. Y/N wasn't necessarily bad at history but since things at home had been rough they didn't get the chance to revise all the topics that were discussed in class at home, and so failed the test this time.
As William stood there explaining the questions, Y/N stared at him. Noticing how his tone of voice was calm and low, the way he stood there awkwardly in his brown pants and light vest, the dark purple tie tied around his neck. Y/N started to blush slightly as she stared at the man. William put his hands into his pockets and let out a long sigh "Well then, any questions?" He all of a sudden says, causing Y/N to flinch a bit and return back from their daydreaming. Nobody in class says anything nor raises their hands. William nods and turns around to walk back to his desk, sitting down on the chair that stood by it. "Well then..." He says, looking up at the clock hanging on the wall behind him. "School's almost out, why don't u all do some studying until the bell rings" he says, the class all nod and do the exact opposite. Y/N sat there fidgeting with their fingers, turning to look outside of the window.
A few minutes pass until suddenly the bell rang, everyone quickly got up and left the classroom, leaving just Y/N and William behind. "Well then Y/N, care to explain this grade to me?" He speaks, getting up from the chair and closing the door to the classroom. He walks back and sits down, Y/N gets up from their desk and walks up to William's desk.
"Uhm...i guess I just didn't study, sorry" they awkwardly reply. William nods slowly and let's out a low hum "All of your other grades were rather good, what made u not study?" He asks, his facial expression serious as he stares into Y/N's eyes. "It's....really none of your business to be honest Mr.Afton" they blurt out, a bit louder than a whisper. William's eyes widen a bit and he chuckles "If you tell me I may be able to help. You don't want to redo the year now, do you darling?" He says, the 'darling' catching Y/N off guard. They look at him, cheeks blushing slightly as they shake their head no. "No....its just been rough at home, I haven't been able to study" Y/N replies rather quiet and looks away, letting out a soft sigh.
William understandingly nods and stands up, he places a hand onto their shoulder, his height towering over Y/N's. "I'm here for you, do u want to talk about it?" He says, calmly. They look up at him, tears prickling at their eyes. Y/N starts sobbing, William gets caught off guard but quickly wraps his arms around Y/N as reaction. They continue to sob, William gently strokes their back with his big hand "shh..its okay" he says and continues to comfort them. Y/N pulls away and wipes their tears away with the palm of their hand. William smiles softly at them and reaches his hand up to their cheek, helping Y/N wipe their tears away.
He looks down at them, not thinking and leaning in, kissing Y/N on the lips. They freeze, in shock of the sudden kiss until William pulls back. "....sorry, I didn't think straight, this is..this is wrong" he blurts out, backing up a bit. Y/N slowly shakes their head "..it's alright with me" they softly whisper. William looks at them, a soft blush coating his cheeks after having kissed them. He grins and nods "then, meet me here again tomorrow after your last period. You should be going now, darling" he says. Y/N nods and quickly makes their way out of William's classroom, looking back once more and smiling slightly at the man. They close the door and let out a soft sigh, releasing it was wrong to want him but not caring anyways.
thanks for reading,, have a good day or night ᰔᩚ
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ruh--roh-raggy · 5 months
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Home Sweet Home (William Afton x Wife! Reader) - Part 2
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Hello hello! Welcome back to part 2 of my fully self indulgent delusion! This is a very fluffy chapter, we get a little peek inside reader and William's day to day life while they start unpacking! Thank you all so much for the support and the comments and the reblogs and the likes, all of it! I'm grateful every single one of you is here! If you would like to be added to the tag list please don't hesitate to let me know! I hope you enjoy, thank you for reading!!
WARNINGS: None
You can find my Masterlist here!
Word Count: 4,168
Part 1 - Part 3
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You stretched as you sat up in bed, smiling as you caught sight of the tall pines that seemed to stretch on endlessly outside your window. You looked around for William, feeling his side of the bed was cold, you knew he had been up for a while. You grabbed the sweatshirt you had been wearing the night before from where it had ended up on the floor. You smile as the smell of motor oil and your husband's cologne fills your nose, the warm, worn fabric of his college sweatshirt pooling around your waist. You wrap your arms tightly around your body, your hands fully swallowed by the sweatshirt’s sleeves as your bare feet padded across the floor. You scrunched up your nose, rubbing the bottom of your foot off on the side of your leg as you stepped in a pile of dirt, making a comment about how you'd have to vacuum later. You wandered into the kitchen when you heard William’s voice, finding him twisting the phone’s chord around his finger as he chatted idly. He smiles at the sight of you sleepily stumbling up to him. You couldn't stop your eyes from raking over his body; his fleece pajama pants sitting low on his hips, his salt and pepper chest hair carpeting his chest before gradually thinning out to the happy trail that was cut off by his clothing. “Woof.” You grumble, causing him to chuckle. He places a hand over the receiver and gives you a playful, warning look.
“Behave.” He whispers with a wink. You look around the kitchen, a few stray bags of groceries littered the counter in various stages of being put away, a moving box labeled ‘pans’ in William’s big blocky script. “Yeah, we were planning on swinging by later.” From that statement alone you knew he was talking to Henry. You slide your arms around his torso, his free arm immediately wrapping around your shoulders as he draws you in closer. “No, I'm not trying to sneak in so I can work.” William groans in an unamused tone. The two make a few more remarks to each other before he hangs up. “Well good morning.” His voice becomes noticeably more chipper as he greets you.
“I had to wake up all alone, without my husband in bed next to me.” You close your eyes and look away from him with a soft “hmph”, a kiss getting pressed to your forehead to try and alleviate your mock annoyance.
“Oh, my poor girl. Look at you, about to whiter away from lack of attention.” He shoots back a fake pout. “How about you and I go take a shower and I'll take you out for breakfast, would that make up for it?”
You hum as you ponder over his offer, “I think I can work with that.” You giggle as he stops down to rest his forehead against yours, peppering your face in kisses. The bags on the counter catch your eye again. “When did you go grocery shopping?” He sighs at your question.
“Well, I was supposed to have breakfast ready for when you got up.” He scoops you up in his arms without missing a beat, walking around and holding you close to him was second nature at this point he did it so often. “But, Henry called, and you know who that goes.” You nod with a small laugh. “So, why not use the opportunity to take my girl out to breakfast?” He smiles warmly at you, your heart still flutters in your chest even after almost a decade of seeing that smile. He sets your down at the top of the stairs, your hand instinctively reaching out to take his as you ambled down the hall towards your master bathroom.
“Can we go to that place I like?” William can't help but smile at your vague question.
“The one with the shitty coffee and the good pancakes or the one that makes those fancy omelets? He asks in an attempt to clarify.
“The one with the shitty coffee and good pancakes.” You decide with a nod. William internally remarked how cute he thought it was when you swore. Chuckling to himself when he thought back to the time someone had rear-ended his car. The two of you had been driving back from dinner at Henry’s house, both of you laughing as you recounted your favorite moments from the evening. The light had changed a lot quicker than William was expecting as you pulled up to an intersection, making you rock slightly in your seat as he hit the brakes a little harder than normal. You both let out a shocked sound as the car suddenly gets shoved forward. Before William could even fully process what had happened your seatbelt was off and you were flying out of the passenger seat.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your voice grows deeper as rage bubbles up in your chest. “Are you fucking blind or just fucking stupid?” William’s eyes widen as he listens to the expletives fall from your lips with ease. Finally unclicking his own seatbelt and stepping out. You had powered up to the guy that rear-ended the car. A finger jabbing into his chest and pointing at the bumper, your voice unwaveringly stern as you ripped this man a new one. If he was being honest, he found this side of you pretty damn hot. Your whole expression softened as your eyes landed on him. “Honey, are you okay?” You practically shoved the man out of the way to get over to him. You immediately began fussing over him, asking if he had hit his head and checking him for seatbelt burns.
“I'm alright, bunny.” He pulls you against him, you finally allow yourself a moment to take a deep breath. “Why don't you go sit in the car and calm down? I'll handle this baby, don't worry.” He's snapped from the memory as your lips brushing over the back of his hand. “Sparky’s it is.” He smiles down at you. You helped William open up a few boxes, trying your best to dig out everything you would need to shower. “It has to get unpacked anyways, right?” He would remark with a pat on your head at the sound of your annoyed sighs. You sat on the floor organizing under the sink, William stood in the shower, securing the custom shelves he had built for you into place. He hummed as he worked, the corners of your lips quirking up in a smile as you recognized the song you had your first dance to at your wedding. You glance up at him, William giving you his trademark lopsided grin as his eyes lock with yours.
“So this is love.” The light, melodic sound of your voice floats through the room.
“So this is what makes life divine.” He joins you softly, his voice gravelly and slightly flat as he continues the next line.
“I'm all aglow.” He decides to continue with the humming, punctuating your lines. He steps out of the shower, taking your hand and giving you a slow spin before his arm wraps around your waist. You swayed in time to your singing, looking just as in love with you now as he did on your wedding night. His lips press to yours as he dips you backwards, your heart fluttering in your chest.
“I swear you look more beautiful every day.” He whispers. You lightly slap his chest, trying to hide the blush that has taken over your cheeks. The two of you finished setting up what you needed in the bathroom relatively quickly, you broke down the empty boxes while William got the shower started. He groans as the hot water hits his back, stretching his tired muscles.
“Wet your hair.” You command him softly as you step in front of him.
He raised an eyebrow at you, smirking at you playfully. “I'm sorry, what was that bunny?”
“Wet your hair.” You repeat a little louder, trying your best to appear confident despite the fact you wanted to melt under his gaze. “It’s my turn to take care of you.” He rests his hands on your waist, obliging your little request. You work the shampoo into his hair, earning a soft groan from him as you lightly scratch his scalp. “You always take such good care of me, you have to let me return the favor sometimes.” You smile up at him, placing a gentle kiss to his chest.
“But you're my little lady-” you cut him off before he even had the chance to argue. You have heard his reasoning a million times. You were his wife. That meant, if he could help it, you would never have to lift a finger. He was always opening doors for you, cooking breakfast, taking you out on dates, everything you have ever wanted or needed William has taken care of. Your job, according to him, was to look pretty and to let him spoil you. You, however, viewed things a little differently. You loved William to the moon and back and then some. No matter how much he would always try to fuss over you, he needed to be taken care of too, even if he didn't want to admit it. You made sure that there was always a hot meal on the table for when your husband would get home, even if it was just Chinese. When he had a particularly long day at work you would put in some extra effort into doting on him; taking care of putting away his jacket and work boots, gently guiding him to sit on the couch while you snuck off to prepare his plate for him, anything he needed you were on top of it before the thought even crossed his mind.
“I am your wife.” The sound of you so adamantly declaring that you were his threatened to bring William to his knees. “Fight it all you want, but since I am your wife, Mr. Afton…” your voice softens as you finish making your point. “It’s important to me that I take care of my husband however I can.” He smiles, stooping down to give you a caste kiss. “Now rinse.”
��Yes ma'am.” He responds with a chuckle.
You hummed softly as you dug through boxes of clothes, eventually deciding on one of William’s sweatshirts and a pair of his flannel pajamas pants. The soft fabric pooling around your ankles and making your hands disappear. William steps in the bedroom; drying off his glasses in a towel, his hair still damp from your shower, his beard neatly trimmed. “Well don't you look cozy.” You race into his open arms, letting him hug you tight to his chest. “You ready to get going?” You nod, your hand slipping into his as you allow him to lead you down the hallway. Throughout the drive you were both filled with laughter, recounting how days like this were a common occurrence when you first started dating.
“Well can you blame me? I was a full time student, working full time at Freddy’s, dealing with the absolutely scandalous lifestyle of falling in love with an older man.” He lets out a loud laugh at your dramatic tone over the last part.
“Did I ever say it was a problem?” He tries to defend himself. “There was nothing I loved more than picking you up after your Friday morning class. You would come stomping down to my car, quiet,” he tries to subdue his own chuckling by quieting your laughter, “you would throw all your stuff in the back seat, and you would lay down on my lap and fall asleep while I drove. It really doesn't sound like I had anything to complain about.”
“You were always so grouchy before your pancakes.” You mock his voice, sitting up straight in the seat and planting your hands firmly on your hips. Neither of you could keep a straight face, dissolving into fits of laughter as you pulled into the parking lot.
“Hey, Mr and Mrs Afton, welcome back.” You're greeted by the preppy red headed hostess. She leads you to your usual booth in the back corner, William always insisted a corner booth was quieter and more intimate. You had one of the paper placemats flipped over to the blank side in front of you. You passed a pen back and forth, playing tic tac toe while you waited for your food. You figured out a plan for the house, both of you excited to start settling into the space.
“I think we should start with the bedroom, it'll give us a nice little reprieve from all the chaos.” He chuckles, beating you once again at your game before putting the pen down. Your plates of pancakes clattered down in front of you, both of you rushing to dig into your meals so you could get the rest of your day started.
You pushed through your front door with a groan, arms filled with bags of cleaning supplies. You dragged everything upstairs, your husband not far behind as he unloaded the rest of your shopping. He places a quick kiss to your lips, the subtle taste of coffee still lingering from breakfast. When most of the heavy cleaning had been done you decided to take a break. You sprawled out in the middle of the empty floor, the hardwood cool against your back. You could hear the soft sounds of William jogging back up the stairs and down the hall before he re-entered the room. He set down a box next to you, before joining you on the floor. “What's this?” You grin excitedly, turning the box to see what was inside.
Your eyes immediately welled up as you ran your fingers over the worn, mostly faded marker. ‘The Good Parts’ was all it said, but you remembered this box vividly. When you and William had originally moved in together you didn't bring much with you. You were in college at the time, sharing a shitty apartment with even shittier roommates, most of your furniture aside from your bed was made up of large plastic bins and wobbly rolling drawers. However, William was very surprised when he opened up one of your moving boxes. The good parts, as it had been so cryptically named, was a catchall of your entire relationship so far; polaroids of the two of you together, any small cheap pieces of jewelry he had bought for you while you were out shopping, ticket stubs to movies you had particularly liked, letters he had written you, all of it. A box that had only been added to throughout all these years. “It was tucked away in the closet, I know you would've been upset if we had forgotten it during the move.” He smiles softly at you. You pull him in for a soft kiss. Wiping at your eyes, you then reach out to open it with shaking fingers. William reaches in first, pulling out a pair of ticket stubs attached to a couple polaroids. One was of you and William standing in the driveway of your old apartment. Your arms wrapped around William’s waist, his lips pressed to the top of your head, you could barely make out the figure failing to jump out of frame in time as Henry. “One of our double dates with Henry and Sarah.” He chuckles. You smile as you pick up the second one. William held you close, he was dancing you around the empty parking lot. You were laughing in the photo, practically falling into him. William looked so happy, so in love with you. He still had that same look in his eyes when your attention moved back to him. He holds out the ticket stubs.
“We went to go see Children of the Corn.” You laugh as you readed over the faded print.
“You hated that movie!” He exclaims.
“I didn't hate the movie, I hated how freaky those kids were!” You explain, throwing your arms wide. “You can't tell me they weren't unsettling!” You tried arguing your point but William was already laughing. You playfully push his shoulder with a groan, both of you giggling like idiots as you put the items back. One picture in particular catches your eye. Your eyes were assaulted by the too bright splashes of yellows and purples. You and all your coworkers at Freddy’s dressed up for a sports day. You found yourself in the picture, a soft blush on your cheeks as you smiled bashfully at the camera, a very rigid William at your side. “This was like a week after we met.” You grin. “Look at you, you're so awkward.” You tease, making your body purposely cringe up. He laughs at your teasing, he would never deny that he definitely was not the smoothest when you had met.
He wraps his arm around your shoulders as you lean into his side, fingers running over the edge of the photograph. “Do you remember the day we met?” You perk up at the question, moving your hair out of the way to reveal a thin silver line near your temple.
“Of course I do, I still have the scar!” You respond in a chipper tone.
“That's not what I meant!” He manages to get out through a fit of laughter.
“I know, I’m just never going to let you live that down.” You wink at him, causing him to roll his eyes. “Of course I remember the day we met honey, I started to like you the first day I met you.” You place a kiss to his cheek. You had just recently started working at Freddy’s, and as far as college jobs, it wasn't the worst place you could be. Sure the carpet was always sticky and the kids were loud, but you got along well with your coworkers and there were parts of working at the pizzeria that actually were quite fun. You had even grown particularly fond of the giant animatronic animals that performed their concert every 20 minutes.
“Can you do me a favor?” Your coworker Rachel rushes up to you. “That table's food is going to be up any second but I need to pee so bad, would you be able to grab it for me?”
“Yeah of course!”
“Thanks girl, I owe you.” She smiles gratefully before hurrying off. Your eyes dart over to a girl as she lets out a shrill scream, seeing it was just because she had won a lot of tickets you continue to push through the kitchen door. You felt a sharp crack to your head as everything went black. When you woke up you were laying on the floor, a warm hand slipped into yours. Your head hurt but other than that you felt fine. You sat up with a groan, a strong arm immediately supporting your back.
“Easy, doll.” A low, gravelly voice says. “You got hit pretty hard.”
“What happened?” You ask quietly.
“She's okay everyone!” The voice speaks a little louder. There's a collective murmur of relief. He leans in closer to you and whispers, “I'm going to help you up, I need you to do me a favor and hide against the side of me. You got cut by some plastic, I don't want anyone seeing the blood and panicking.” You nodded, allowing him to help you up from the floor, leaning into his side in a way that hid your face. He led you from the room, the usual noise of the pizzeria gradually starting up behind you. He opens a door and leads you into a room before immediately breaking into an apology. “I am so sorry, I was looking at a ticket when I was coming out. Are you okay? I'm going to clean you up here and take you to the hospital to make sure you don't have a concussion-” you wave your arms in front of you, cutting him off.
“Wait, I have questions!” You exclaim, demanding his full attention. His eyes widened slightly, shocked by your firm tone. “I still don't know what happened, I walked through the door and I woke up on the floor. So how did I get knocked out?”
“I was carrying a tray, I looked down at the ticket to check the table number again and I didn't see you coming through the door.” He explains bashfully.
“So you whacked me in the head with a pizza tray?” You ask to clarify. He nods, unable to meet your eyes as his face scrunches up in embarrassment. “Okay, I'm not mad. Accidents happen.” Your voice softened, you could tell he was beating himself up over the situation. “I also don't know who you are, so what's your name?” You ask with a small laugh.
“Oh, that's right, you're one of the new employees. I'm sorry we had to meet like this.” He states with a chuckle. “I'm William Afton.” Your eyes widened as you realized this was Mr. Emily’s elusive business partner.
“Sir I'm so sorry, I had no idea.” You immediately rush to apologize. He waves you off as he digs around in a drawer for a first aid kit.
“Mr. Afton in front of customers, other than that call me William.” You couldn't help but notice the playful sparkle in his eyes as he glanced up at you. You can't help but blush as you looked away. You took a second to take in your surroundings. Tools lined the walls, a work bench covered in blue prints and notebooks, various animatronic parts scattered in various corners. ‘This must be his workshop's you thought to yourself. Your attention was immediately forced back onto him as he steps in front of you, his massive form blocking out the bulb that hung from the ceiling. “I got you pretty good, didn't I?” He grumbles. His gold wire framed glasses glinted in the light as he sets them on the top of his head. He started to reach out in order to maneuver your face to look at the wound better, pausing before his fingers brushed your jaw. “I, um… is it okay if I touch you? I just want to make sure I get you cleaned up.” You nod, tensing up as you feel his calloused fingers run over your cheek. “I'm so sorry about this.
“It's okay Mr. Afton, really.” You were having trouble forming a proper sentence. His skin was so warm. The way he held your face so delicately in his large hand, like you would break if he moved wrong.
“William.” He corrects you with a small smile.
“William.” You repeat back softly. His eyes meet yours, the sound of you saying his name putting him in almost a trance for a second.
“This is probably going to sting a little.” He gives you an apologetic look before dabbing on the disinfectant. You wince, subconsciously reaching up to hold onto his arm. He got you all cleaned up, carefully putting a bandage on your head before stepping back and returning his glasses to their proper place. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he gave you a lopsided smile. “You know I never got your name.”
“I was surprised you still talked to me after that.” You were snapped back to the present by the sound of your husband's voice floating to your ears.
“You had already beaten yourself up enough over it. Plus, seeing you all flustered and worried over me was really cute.” He pulls you into a kiss, you could still feel the smile on his lips, his mustache tickling your nose slightly. You set the picture back inside, closing up the top of the box and earning a curious look from William. “I wanna savor this… it's been a while since we looked in here.” You mutter softly, tracing a finger over the writing on the outside.
“Maybe we should unpack it with the rest of the stuff.” He gently squeezes your arm before his hand rubs over your back. “I don't know about you, but I think it would be nice to put all of this stuff out where we can see it.” You turn your head to face him, letting your forehead rest against his. “But I definitely agree we should make it last.” You could hear the playful tone in his voice. “Knowing you, you'd cry if we dug through this whole box today.” You lightly punched him in the arm, William faking a hurt expression, hissing slightly as he rubs a hand over the spot you hit. “Easy there, killer. You're going to rip my whole arm off.” He chuckles. He stands with a pained groan, his knees popping as he hoists himself up off the floor. “Come on, I think I know how we can make this a little more fun.”
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Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @redflowery @residentevilbeast @weirdoartist21 @loudchaosking (If I missed you or you would like to be added please let me know!!)
251 notes · View notes
happy74827 · 2 months
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Beyond Repair
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[William Afton x Wife!Reader]
Synopsis: Despite everything he’s done, so far the only consequence he’s received is marriage counseling {GIF Creds: @bittwitchy// Tagging @moonbanana-library because I feel like you’ll enjoy this}
WC: 2595
Category: Slight Fluff, Slight Angst [TW — Afton, cursing, small mentions of 18+ content]
Don’t we love random sparks of inspiration at four in the morning? I sure do 💀
『••✎••』
You were always a clueless little thing.
You saw the world with rose-tinted glasses, and you believed in everyone. You saw the best in people, and you wanted to see the world like that.
And it wasn't a bad way to look at things; it kept you innocent and full of light. William, however, wasn't as good as you were. He had seen the world for what it was, and he knew how the world worked.
He'd lost his innocence, and he had seen bad things… done bad things. Sure, he was good with kids, but he had a secret side that he knew would completely crumble the way you saw the world, how you saw him.
So, despite everything, he made sure you'd never know. He kept the darker side of himself out of your view. And he did everything he could to be the husband you thought he was.
Soon, that husband's facade became a father's facade, and you had a beautiful daughter who had his eyes and your smile.
But he knew the truth.
He'd never been a good man. Not even close.
The moment his eyes landed on you, the day he'd met you, the years he got to spend with you, and the day he had asked you to be his wife. Every step in between, he knew that he didn't deserve any of it. He knew that he should have let you go.
But he was selfish.
He needed you. He loved you. Your innocence was refreshing. And your optimism was addicting.
William knew that he didn't deserve anything, except for maybe an early death. Yet, despite knowing all that, he was greedy. He was an ambitious man, and he took every opportunity that presented itself to him.
Even if that meant hurting the ones around him.
Because you see, the only thing in this world he wanted more than your love was the recognition he'd never gotten. And the respect.
So when he'd built his pizzeria and made his animatronics, he saw just how successful it became, and he saw just how many people knew him and just how much respect he was finally getting.
That's when he realized.
That's when the real William began to show himself. And that was his big mistake. That mentality led him to this grandma's couch, impatiently awaiting for hell to begin.
Marriage counseling.
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, trying to hold back a laugh. This was so pathetic. For years, he's crossed lines and done things that would put him on death row, and he'd never had a single issue. Yet, one small argument with you, and suddenly he's a man with a failing marriage?
What kind of joke was this?
Turns out the clueless little thing that you were had taken his little stunt a lot more seriously than he had anticipated.
"This is ridiculous," William groaned, slumping back into his seat as he stared up at the ceiling. "This is going to be a waste of time. All we need is a vacation, and it'll all work out just fine.”
You just stared at him with a look of disbelief and a small bit of disgust. Quite adorable, if he was honest.
"Really, William?" You said, rolling your eyes. "It's going to take a little more than a vacation to fix our relationship."
William turned to look at you, and he felt his heart twinge when he saw just how upset you were. His lips parted, and he felt a surge of regret wash over him.
He really hated seeing you like this.
You were the only person who ever seemed to make him feel remorse, and right now was no exception.
He opened his mouth, trying to find the words to tell you that he was sorry, but he stopped himself before he could say anything.
Because he wasn't sorry.
Not really.
“Ah, the Aftons, I presume?" A voice said, and William looked away from you, looking to the front of the room.
A man, most likely in his late 40's, was standing by the doorway. His dark hair had streaks of grey in it, and he had a few wrinkles. He was wearing a brown turtleneck and a pair of black pants.
His face was unreadable, and William couldn't tell what he was thinking. But he could tell that this was the same therapist he'd spoken with on the phone.
"I'm Doctor Miller. It's nice to finally meet you both." The therapist smiled and held his hand out.
William sighed, pushing himself off of the couch, and stood up. He shook his hand and forced a smile. "Likewise."
The Doctor nodded and glanced at you. He smiled and walked over to you, extending his hand.
You shook his hand and flashed a warm smile. The smile didn't meet your eyes, though. His smile was fake, and so was yours.
Maybe you were more similar than William had first assumed.
The doctor let go of your hand and stepped back. "Let's get started then."
William sat down, slouching his posture and staring up at the ceiling. He thought about wrapping his arm around you, pulling you closer to him, and holding you tight, but he thought better of it.
You'd probably reject his affection anyway. For being a clingy wife, you were surprisingly good at pushing him away.
Doctor Miller grabbed a notepad and a pen, walked to the chair beside the couch, and sat down.
He smiled the first genuine one out of the three of you, and opened the notepad.
"Alright, Mrs. Afton, I'd like you to start off. Tell me what happened." He said, his gaze fixed on you. Of course, he was already taking your side.
William glanced at you and raised an eyebrow. This should be good.
You hesitated before speaking. "He’s… well, different lately. He's distant. And cold. I hardly see him anymore, and when I do, he doesn't talk to me. He spends all of his time either in the basement or his office."
Doctor Miller wrote something down and nodded his head. "Is there any particular reason you believe this is happening?"
“No, but he has been acting more aggressive lately. I tried to talk to him about it, and he just snapped. It was like he wasn't even listening. Like his mind was somewhere else."
William stared at you. You sounded so sincere. So hurt. If he had a heart, he's sure it would be aching.
Doctor Miller hummed, nodding his head, and turned to William.
"What was the argument about, Mr. Afton?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
William looked at the doctor, and two options popped into his mind. Option one is to tell the doctor his true feelings. You were being ridiculous and childish. He didn't need your bullshit. He had more important things to worry about. Or, option two, lie.
He was always good at lying.
William sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He glanced at you and started to speak.
"She's right; I've been a little cold recently. I've just been stressed out. My business has been a lot lately, and I've been dealing with a few other personal issues. Stress isn't a good look on me, I'm afraid."
He lied, flashing a small sad smile at the doctor.
Doctor Miller looked at him for a moment before writing something down.
"Well, it sounds to me like there are a few issues in your relationship." He said, putting his notepad on the table and resting his arms on his lap. “One of them is a communication issue, which is not uncommon in relationships like this. I believe I can help you, but I want to ask you both a question first."
"What's the question?" You asked, and the Doctor turned to you, a soft look in his eyes.
"Are you still in love with him?"
You and William both tensed up, and the room was silent for a moment. He couldn’t help but turn to look at you, genuinely curious to hear what you were going to say.
You hesitated, your eyes locked on the ground. William felt his stomach churning and his jaw clenched.
He was actually nervous.
For the first time in a long time, William was actually nervous.
You turned to look at him, and he felt a wave of relief wash over him.
"Yes. I still love him."
Doctor Miller nodded and turned to William. "What about you? Are you still in love with your wife?"
Truth be told, you were the only person who ever came close to making William feel love. Vanessa was a close second, but he wasn't sure if it was the same kind of love. At least, not in the way he felt about you.
If this was love, then he was still in love.
"Always.” He spoke without a moment of hesitation. He gave you a warm smile, pulling that facade back up again. “…That's why I'm here."
The doctor smiled, and William swore he saw the tiniest hint of pity in his eyes. "That's good. That means there's still hope for your relationship.”
With all the money this one therapy session was costing him, he damn well hoped so.
"So, here's my idea," the doctor said, sitting up in his seat and clearing his throat. "I'd like to start off with a few activities, some couples challenges, if you will. This will help me understand where the problem areas are, and hopefully, after a few sessions, we'll be able to fix them. If not, we'll find a solution together. Sound good?"
Activities? Challenges? What was this, summer camp?
William resisted the urge to roll his eyes and nodded. "Sounds great."
You nodded, smiling, and William swore he saw a bit of excitement in your eyes. He wondered how much this meant to you. Had you really thought you were losing him?
"Perfect," the doctor said and grabbed his notepad. He flipped the page and started writing something down.
With the amount of writing this guy was doing, you'd think this was a novel. It took a lot out of him to not get up and snap the damn pen in half.
"Now, this might seem a little strange, but I want to try an activity right now. Something small and easy, so we can gauge your relationship and see how you interact with each other."
"What kind of activity?" You asked, tilting your head slightly.
"Something simple, don't worry. Just a conversation."
Conversation. That sounded boring.
William was about to complain when the doctor cut him off.
"When was the last time you two were… intimate?"
William's eyebrows furrowed, and he stared at the Doctor, whose gaze was fixed on him.
Was he asking what he thought he was asking?
William felt his face heat up and his jaw clenched.
He had to be kidding.
"I'm sorry, but what does that have to do with anything?" He asked, forcing his voice to sound calm.
The doctor turned his head to you, and you just looked down at the ground.
William was going to lose it.
"Being… connected with your spouse in that way is an important aspect of a healthy relationship. Without that sincerity, that vulnerability, you'll start to grow apart."
"We're perfectly connected," William said through gritted teeth. “What do you think you're implying here?"
He knew you like the back of his hand. He could read you like a book, and he was confident to know what you were thinking, doing, or feeling at all times.
He knew that look.
Your eyes were downcast, your hands were fidgeting, and your bottom lip was slightly jutted out.
You were embarrassed, and he knew he had to act. Play the good husband role, and save you the humiliation.
He reached his arm over and wrapped it around your shoulder, pulling you gently upwards. Your body tensed at his touch, but you relaxed when you looked up and saw his warm smile.
"See? We're completely connected." William said, his arm squeezing your shoulder. “I believe this is where our time is up. If you'll excuse us, we have some… activities apparently to get to."
William stood up, grabbing your hand and pulling you up with him. You were quiet, and he could feel your stare on the side of his head.
He couldn't tell if you were upset or grateful.
William cleared his throat and gave the doctor a cold smile. One that he purposely made so that the Doctor would know how displeased he was.
"Thank you for your time, Doctor Miller. We'll be sure to contact you soon."
The doctor nodded, a blank expression on his face. He didn’t say a word as William took you by the arm and guided you out the door.
No way in hell was he doing this again.
"William-" You started, and he cut you off.
"No more therapy, sweetheart," William said, his hand tightening around your arm.
"I-"
"No more," he said, his voice low and stern. Still, he kept that warm smile on his face. It made you fall back into silence.
"We're done. We'll figure this out on our own. No more doctors or counselors or whatever the hell he was.”
Truth be told, he was absolutely livid. All that money wasted for a bum therapist to imply that their marriage was falling apart because you weren't communicating?
What a scam. This is exactly why he preferred to do things on his own.
William led you back to the car, opening the door for you and helping you in. He walked around the car and slid into the driver's seat.
He took a moment to breathe, his head falling back against the seat and his eyes closing.
God, he hated being here.
Hated it so much.
He needed a cigarette and maybe a stiff drink.
"I'm sorry." You said, your voice quiet.
William lifted his head and turned to you. He blinked, confused, and he couldn't help but chuckle.
"What for?"
"I… I thought maybe if we went to see a therapist, they could help. They could fix this. But… I think I messed it up. I'm sorry."
Your voice cracked, and he watched as tears started to form in your eyes.
His face softened, and he turned his body towards you, leaning his back against the door. Such a crybaby you were, emotionally connected and sensitive.
Just another reason why you worked so well with him. Blinded by emotion, you were easy to trick. Easy to manipulate.
You were naive, and it was adorable.
"No, no. Don't cry." William said, his hand lifting and cupping your cheek. He brushed away the tears with his thumb, and he forced a smile. "There's nothing to fix. We're fine, I promise. I’ll make sure of it. Okay?"
"Okay," you whimpered, nuzzling into his hand. It’s quite the contrast compared to the look of disgust on your face from earlier.
He didn't want to see that again.
William leaned forward and pressed his lips against your forehead. He could smell the shampoo and soap from your morning shower, and the smell calmed him down.
He could tell the action had calmed you down, too.
William pulled back, and his lips twitched upwards. "Don't worry about a thing. I'll fix this."
After all, he always got what he wanted. And what he wanted was his wife.
And no stupid, worthless therapist was going to guide him away from that.
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justsomerandomfanfic · 4 months
Text
Pancakes For Brunch - William Afton/Steve Raglan X Female Reader
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Title: Pancakes For Brunch
William Afton/Steve Raglan X Female Reader
Additional Characters: N/A
WC: 1,715
Warnings: Slightly suggestive, nicknames, slight mention of William's past, Post Five Night's At Freddy's movie, very brief mention of death, teasing, banter, and overall huge fluff
You awoke as a pair of lips pressed against the back of your neck, soft facial hair tickling your skin, making you smile sleepily. The bed squeaked a bit as William moved behind you, lifting himself slightly to peer over at you, his gaze roaming lazily up your bare shoulder, and neck, before finally settling on your face. Propped up onto his arm, he raised his hand to brush your hair away from your face, eyes trailing along your beautiful features before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the space behind your ear. Your heart fluttered as he did so. 
"Morning," You muttered, slowly turning to lay on your back, staring up at William as he stared right down at you. A gentle hand rested on your hip, his thumb rubbing circles into your warm skin, which was just barely covered by your pajama shirt - that may or may not have been one of his button-ups. 
William continued to stare, admiring you in the early morning light that sprinkled between the curtains, eyes taking in every feature of your face. You smiled sweetly at him, running your fingers lightly through his thick, graying locks; nails scratching at his scalp deliciously. He leaned in for another long, lingering kiss, and after a moment, he pulled back; his lips brushing against yours. His body heat washed over you as his breath mixed with yours. He let out a deep sigh as he finally spoke, "Morning, sweetheart." His voice was gravelly, rough with sleep; it sent shivers down your spine. 
Rolling back on his side, William tugged you into him, his arms wrapping around you and bringing your body close to his. You snuggled up under his chin as he laid back against the pillows and tucked his nose in the crook of your neck; inhaling deeply. He breathed in the scent of your shampoo, his fingers idly playing with the ends of your hair as you looped your leg over his waist, laying your head on top of his chest.
The two of you were quiet for a while, listening to the sounds of birdsong outside your window. You shifted slightly, raising your hand to allow your fingers to gently brush across William's bare chest, lightly caressing the scars along his midsection. You still couldn't get over how lucky you were, not only to have William in your life but to have found him alive, withering in pain in that corroding suit. But you didn't want to think or dwell on those thoughts and memories. Instead, you focused on the present, focusing on him, the warmth of his body against yours, the feel of his heartbeat beneath your palm.
"We're not going to get up for a while, are we?" You muttered, pressing your lips to his shoulder. Your voice was muffled from having your face buried in his chest; you were sure he could hear you, but he did not indicate it, simply pulling you closer into his embrace.
"Probably not," William replied, resting his cheek atop your head as he stroked your arm.
You smiled softly, shutting your eyes briefly, "Good." You sighed out, "I don't wanna get up."
You heard William chuckle, his breath ruffling the baby hairs on your forehead and temple. He tightened his grip on you as you relaxed further, "Well then, I'll keep you here all day if that's what you'd like."
"We will have to get up sooner or later," You reminded him, opening your eyes slightly to meet his gaze, "It's almost noon. And we need groceries."
Letting out a sigh through his nose, William spoke, "What do we need?"
Brushing the tips of your fingers through his short beard, you answered, "Milk, ground meat, bacon, carrots - preferably those baby ones, oh- and eggs..." You paused, thinking of other essentials, "... And maybe cereal." You finished.
"Alright," He murmured quietly, "When do you want to go?"
"Not right now, that's for sure," You let your eyes flutter shut, covering your mouth with your hand as you let out a small yawn. "I wanna cuddle some more. It's Saturday, after all." William chuckled, kissing your temple before burying his nose in your hair again. You smiled into his chest, relaxing into his embrace.
~~~
Soft music played through the radio as you stood at the stove, occasionally flipping some pancakes on a pan, humming along; softly swaying your hips to the beat. It was well past noon once you and William got out of bed, where the both of you had spent the remainder of the morning. You had been going back and forth on what to eat for breakfast before you and William both settled on pancakes, strawberries, and orange juice. Well orange juice for you, William took this time to make his coffee. 
Flipping the finished pancake on the empty plate, you grabbed the batter and poured the remaining thick liquid into the pan, your smile widening as you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist. Pressing your back into William's chest, you poked the cooking pancake with your spatula. You hummed happily as he kissed your shoulder before resting his chin on the top of your head. 
"How many pancakes do you want, honey?" You asked, flipping the pancake over. 
William couldn't get over you. Every time he saw you he felt the same way he did the first time he laid eyes on you - warm, fuzzy inside, and filled with so many feelings, yet completely overwhelmed by them. He couldn't explain it, but he felt drawn to you; there was something about you that drew him to you; call it love, or an obsession, or both. Whatever it was, he could never resist you; every ounce of his being wanted nothing more than to keep you close to him.
"Just one," He replied softly as you turned off the stove and gave William a quick peck on the lips before - reluctantly - moving out of his arms. 
You grabbed the two plates, bringing them to the table as William brought your orange juice and his coffee. Eating quietly together, William slid his knife into the pancake, picking it up a piece on his fork before dipping it in the syrup on the side of his plate. Looking up at you, he grinned lightly, raising his fork out towards you. Looking from him to the piece of pancake, and back, you raised an eyebrow. "Say 'ah,'" He said, his eyes glinting as you bit back a teasing smile.
"I have my own pancakes, Will." You said, gesturing to the pile in front of you. As expected, William just tilted his head slightly, gesturing to the slice of pancake on his fork with a short bob of his raised hand.
"Hmm, but I think mine tastes better." He said simply, making you scoot your plate to the side, allowing you to rest your forearms on the table as you leaned forward slightly.
Gazing over at the man you loved, you grinned right back, "Did I add too much love into it?" You asked playfully, only for William's grin to widen a fraction.
"See for yourself." His tone was laced with charm as he held out his fork, the piece of pancake on it coated in maple syrup. You leaned forward slowly, William lifting the piece of food to your mouth, letting it slip past your lips as you took a bite. His eyes watched as you chewed, your eyes closed - a hum escaping you - before you swallowed, opening your eyes and meeting his. Dropping his fork upon his plate, William reached out with his hand, his thumb brushing the sticky syrup from your bottom lip. You watched with bated breath as he brought his thumb to his lips, sucking off the remnants of the syrup; his eyes remaining on you. You licked your bottom lip unconsciously, tasting the syrup and hints of strawberry, watching as his eyes followed. A small smile curled up on his lips before he dropped his hand, leaning back against the chair. 
This man was killing you.
Letting out a shaky breath, you sat back in your own chair, chewing on your bottom lip for a second, before speaking, "Yeah, I definitely added a lot more love into yours." You couldn't help but crack a tiny grin at the end before a small silence fell between you. Clasping your hands together, you tilted your head to the side before resting your clasped hands under your chin, "I know what you're doing."
"Oh, really?" William mused as he glanced around the dining room, "And what am I doing, sweetheart?"
"You, Will," You sighed out, unable to stop the smile from growing on your face, "Are trying to get out of grocery shopping."
Feigning innocence, he asked, "And why would I do such a thing?"
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you continued to eat, swallowing your food before continuing, "You hate grocery shopping. And you think buttering me up will get you out of it. You're trying to distract me."
"Am I?" William questioned with a smirk, his blue eyes dancing as they met yours; he was greatly amused.
Rolling your eyes again, you pushed away from the table, "Yeah. Yeah, you are. And it’s not going to work this time. I’m craving Fruity Pebbles. Come on, let's finish eating and get going."
Huffing, William stood, picking up his plate. He hated grocery shopping but when it came to spending the day with you, he always went - unless he was able to distract you long enough that you forgot about it all together or just gave up. He just wanted you all to himself, to be perfectly honest. 
~~~
“But Clara, the baby isn’t mine!”
Cuddled up into William’s side, you ate your Fruity Pebbles thoughtfully as you watched one of your favorite shows that was playing on the television. 
“Do you think the baby’s his?” You asked William, sarcastic, obviously, as you watched the vampire’s baby flying around as a bat. 
William tugged you closer into his side, an arm wrapped securely around your waist, as the other was holding your hand in his lap. “Nah…” He grinned, looking down at you briefly with a small, toothy grin. “I doubt it.”
---
Main Masterlist | FNAF Masterlist
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alexthesillybilly · 5 months
Text
Jus fluffy springtrap x reader stuff :)) this is like the fluffiest thing I've ever written 😭❤ enjoy!!
You run your hands through the matted fur of Springtrap's suit. From what he tells you, he can't feel it all that much as his senses aren't fully connected with the outside of the suit, but he can still feel it.
"I'm tired." You say. It's winter now and you've been staying up later than you probably should. Springtrap makes a soft grunt and speaks.
"We can sleep. I don't mind."
For him, it's not technically sleep, but more like a robotic powering off, but it's similar.
"Mhm." You nod and reach to shut off the light. "Wait." You lay down and adjust yourself, then turn off the light. You can still see the glow of his eyes signaling his happiness.
"Here," you place your hand on the fur of his head again and motion for him to come closer. He does, and softly lays his head down on your chest. The pressure from him is calming and you can't help but watch him as he drifts into his powered off state. The soft sound of your heartbeat is enough to make him feel more human than he had in years. Even if it wasn't his, to have someone let him this close to be able to hear it was the most human he'd ever felt.
Laying your hand behind his ears, you shut your eyes, and soon fell asleep.
You'd both be there for eachother when you woke up.
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itsbuckytm · 6 months
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Together. / Mike Schimdt
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Authors Note : So I just happened to watch the FNAF movie and my god it was so good, with a hint of good Lore in it. Also the cast was perfect and ever since watching it, I had a thought of writing a quick one shot for Mike and Y/N. Where Y/N suffers from hallucination and has the same symptoms but a different kind of illness than Abby's. Suggesting that they see also the kids but also the man who's being everything, not only controlling them and their life styles, resulting in a lack of sleep pattern and tons of trauma.
Enjoy!
Ps : Pls don't repost or copy and paste my works. Everything is written by me, and also note that English isn't my first mother language, so I apologize in advance if there is any grammar errors. I tried my very best.
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From one call to another, Mike encountered an unending stream of repetitive "nos" and polite rejections for the position he sought. It dawned on him that he might be the source of the issue, especially after the peculiar "incident" that may have left a stranger somewhat shaken. A few days post-dismissal, someone finally directed him to visit the office of Steve Raglan, a man he had never met before. Today presented the perfect opportunity. Mr. Raglan fit the mold of a man from a bygone era, with his distinctive round glasses and traditional attire. Michael's growing apprehension made him wonder if venturing into this place had been a poor decision all along.
A hushed pause enveloped the room as Mr. Raglan perused Mike's professional background with casual interest. "Well, Mike..." He paused in the midst of his sentence, stealing a quick, appraising glance in his direction. Mike responded nonchalantly. "Yes?" His voice, however, lacked the self-assuredness he longed to convey.
"Care for some coffee?" Steve's inquiry was succinct yet brimming with anticipation as he strolled toward his coffee machine. Mike hesitated, then replied, "Um... No, thank you. I'd rather get this done quick." Deep down, Mike yearned for a stable job, one that would enable him to look after his sister, Abby, and perhaps even sway their aunt to grant them custody.
Steve sensed the growing impatience in his client, who was eager to learn what the future had in store. "You know," Steve remarked, returning to his chair, his voice now tinged with excitement – a side effect, Mike presumed, of his coffee intake. "I recognize this place. It's a place where someone like you would give anything for the job..." A spark of curiosity ignited within Mike as he leaned closer to Mr. Reglan, raising an intrigued brow. "And," Mike inquired. "what makes this place so special?" Steve paused briefly, carefully choosing his words. "Well, you see..."
Mike found himself utterly perplexed by the revelation before him. The location had not only been abandoned since the '80s but also, the job requirements were far from aligning with his original intentions. The compensation was dismal, and he couldn't help but suspect that perhaps none of the previous security guards had been paid properly either. Or not paid at all. It involved a shift he had no expertise in and had no intention of pursuing, particularly after having to bail on his babysitter to bring Abby with him. It was an unequivocal "No." He declared firmly, convinced that this man was even more cynical than he was.
"Are you absolutely certain? Your resume suggests you're more than capable for the position." Mr. Raglan made one final attempt to persuade, his features softening subtly from their earlier rigidity. However, Mike shook his head once more, resolute in his decision. He muttered briefly about the job being the primary source of his conflict, preventing him from seeing Abby or ensuring she had a decent meal, not to mention avoiding losing custody to his aunt. With determination, he rose from his chair, ready to leave the office. Just as Mike was about to exit, Steve handed him his business card, his demeanor marked by a slight pout, swiftly followed by a confident smile. "Just in case, take this," he suggested. Mike, though hesitating for a moment, accepted the card out of politeness and left the office without a word.
After his meeting with Mr. Raglan, Mike's quest for the ideal job seemed to come to an unfortunate conclusion. None of the places he had contacted before his appointment with the advisor, and none since, had offered him any promising prospects. He was beginning to contemplate that maybe accepting the night shift at this particular place was the most feasible option for now. If nothing else, it would provide him with a source of income, and the busy night hours might keep his mind occupied. What enticed him even more was the prospect of being his own boss, with no co-workers to influence his ever-present paranoia. This thought made him more determined than ever to give it a try.
On that very same day, as Abby engrossed herself in her beloved TV shows, Mike settled in to tackle his usual paperwork. It was a task he wasn't particularly fond of, especially considering how the bills seemed to climb higher with each passing month. Even though they were essentially the same, being currently unemployed gave him the impression that each payment had somehow inflated. Just as he was wrapping up his tax payments, a business card slipped through the paperwork, piquing his curiosity and triggering an unexpected flashback.
He hesitated for a moment, contemplating the significance of the card, and then made an impulsive decision. Michael picked up the card and dialed Mr. Reglan's number.
Silence greeted Mike on the other end of the line, as if Mr. Raglan had anticipated the need to give him some space before speaking. "Hello, Mr. Raglan, it's Mike." He began, slightly perplexed. Oddly enough, he could almost sense the man's smile from the other end of the call. It was a whimsical, knowing smile, as if the company had despaired of finding anyone willing to take on the position. Advising Mr. Raglan to take anyone who had agreed upon the offer. "The man who doesn’t do night shifts..." 
“How may I help you?” 
He hesitated for a moment, taking a deep gulp. Ultimately, if he hoped to secure some much-needed income by the end of the month, Mike felt he had no choice but to go for it. With trepidation, he inquired about the availability of the job position. Mr. Raglan's response was swift and affirmative, exuding a sense of warmth toward the young man's inquiry. Encouraged by this, Mr. Raglan asked, "So, from the seemingly random question, can I assume you are accepting to be the Night Guard? Is that correct?"
“Yes.” Mike firmly agreed. 
“Well!” Mr. Raglan exclaimed with a beam smile written on his features. “Now let me explain you everything you need to know…” 
Mike's first night turned out to be anything but simple, despite his initial expectations. Although he had assumed it would be a straightforward affair, the reality hit him when he arrived at the Pizzeria. Mr. Raglan had painted an enticing picture, but the reality was far from appealing. The exterior of the place was drab, with a sign in disrepair, and an entrance that appeared older than Mike himself. The eerie atmosphere left him questioning the wisdom of his decision to accept the job. However, the need for money was a compelling motivator, so he soldiered on.
As he stepped into the building, he recalled being informed that the technology was outdated yet operational, suggesting that someone had been there before him to maintain it. Regardless, as long as their shifts didn't overlap, it was a situation he could live with. However, as he prepared to settle into his office, a profound sense of isolation crept over him. Or perhaps it was a feeling he had merely convinced himself of.
On that very night, Mr. Raglan had called for a check-in, a practice that you found rather unsettling. It only served to worsen your already fragile sleep schedule as the weeks passed. What made it even more distressing were the persistent, haunting visions of them replaying in your mind – flashbacks of their appearances at the restaurant and even inside your own home. But what set your anxiety spiraling was the presence of an eerie figure intertwined with these visions. This haunting scenario ultimately drove you to seek medical attention at the hospital due to severe sleep deprivation. After that harrowing incident, it's safe to say that your eyes would seldom close.
You had also received a rather cryptic warning to keep an eye on the new night security guard, as if your job wasn't demanding enough on its own. Strangely enough, you had never laid eyes on the big boss, nor had any idea what he even looked like. All you knew was that he had a penchant for privacy and seemed to have great faith in Mr. Raglan's knack for providing these kinds of employment opportunities.
As you cruised through the town, dressed in your security guard uniform, you made a pit stop at the convenience store. There, you grabbed some instant coffee and a few snacks to keep yourself alert during your night shift. It wasn't as if you desperately needed them, but considering the unpredictable behavior of the animatronics, especially on the new security guard’s very first day, you opted to stay on high alert. After all, it had been who knew how long since you'd managed to keep your sanity intact while enduring the trials of this dismal place.
You had casually mentioned to Vanessa that you had a few errands to run. She appeared as exhausted as you, both of you affected by the recent ordeal involving the security guard. You couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor guy, always caught in the middle of chaos and associated with the color purple. It seemed absurd that something so innocuous could be the root of all these problems, but you quickly dismissed such thoughts. After paying the cashier and expressing your gratitude, you left the store behind.
Mike's night was surprisingly going well, and he mused, "It's not as bad as I thought." Despite his seemingly confident tone, he remained alert and cautious. While you had explicitly advised Vanessa not to come and check on you, yet she did precisely the opposite. Mike suddenly became aware that he was not alone. Could it be a burglar? He had been sternly warned against letting any strangers in, and he was determined to follow that advice. However, Vanessa's impressive familiarity with the Pizzeria allowed her to slip in through an alternate entrance, demonstrating her knowledge of the place. Leading Mike into desperate urgent major. Finding the burglar. 
Meeting Vanessa had caught him off guard, and he was momentarily taken aback by her unexpected presence. Vanessa, however, took the initiative to speak on his behalf. "You must be the new security guard," she observed. Mike, still trying to process who this woman was, offered a hesitant nod, prompting a chuckle from Vanessa at his reaction. "I'm Vanessa," she introduced herself, her tone light. "Security guard by day, and assistant by night."
"Assistant?" Mike scrutinized her, contemplating whether he should call the big boss to confirm her role. However, Vanessa reassured him, saying. "No need to. The big boss called Y/N to fix Foxy's lair."
"Y/N?" Mike inquired, skepticism evident in his voice. "And why should I take your word for it without any proof?" He stayed close to the camera footage and swiftly switched to the next camera, which was focused on Foxy's area. Everything appeared to be in pristine condition, suggesting the entire place had been left deserted. "And who is this... Y/N?"
Vanessa pointed at the screen displaying the main entrance, where you were standing, clearly aware of the camera above. You cheekily flipped your finger at the camera, leaving Mike torn between the belief that Vanessa was indeed present or that the security guard was merely doing his job, and she wasn't there at all.
"I informed them that I wouldn't be around, but they are rather fragile. They are being advised to be checked on during their shift." Vanessa explained. "While I focus on the animatronics to avoid raising any suspicion, I suggest you go and check on them.”
The instructions were unmistakable, and Mike had little choice but to comply. "But... what if the boss finds out I'm not at my station?" He voiced his concern. Vanessa couldn't help but chuckle softly, feeling a pang of sympathy for him. "Don't fret. He's already aware." She reassured him, her expression tinged with a hint of guilt.
"Great," Mike muttered with an eye roll as he returned to monitoring the main entrance. He couldn't help but steal a glance at your figure, noticing how cold you seemed on this early fall night. He could practically see you shouting on the other line, "Hey, jerk! Let me in, it's freezing out here!" Even though he couldn't hear your words, he could tell from the expression on your face. In response, he finally granted you access, and you muttered with relief. "About time..." just before stepping inside.
As you stepped inside, the interior of the place made you acutely aware of your luck, albeit in an eerie way. It was undeniably creepy, yet you had an inexplicable sense of safety and even felt oddly welcomed. Foxy, known to be the most terrifying and historically the meanest of them all, somehow found solace in your presence. You could have sworn that at times, his eyes seemed to lower, watching as you tended to him. It was as though he had a hidden identity, not quite ready to reveal his true nature, you suspected.
As you wandered through the Pizzeria, Mike couldn't help but notice your diminutive figure amidst all the towering animatronics. He found it difficult to fathom how someone so petite could be employed in this establishment. He murmured his thoughts to Vanessa, nudging her gently. "Maybe we—" He began, but she quickly interrupted, saying, "Not now."
As you finished repairing Bonnie, the big boss tasked you with fixing Foxy, who had been acting strangely. It struck you as odd because Foxy typically only reacted to potential intruders. He preferred targeting moving objects over those playing hide and seek until they got too close. You made your way up to his lair, pulled back the curtains, and revealed his silhouette. "Seems like someone's been naughty lately..." Your voice usually provided comfort, but today it had an odd tone. "Have you...met the new guard?" You found it rather absurd to be talking to a robotic entity, particularly one as poorly and cheaply programmed as you had discovered. If there was one thing you wanted to tell the big boss, assuming you ever met them, it was to consider upgrading the gear if they ever thought of opening another Pizzeria. 
On the other end, Mike observed you with a watchful eye. It didn't take long before you began repairing Foxy's arm and his body started to glitch unexpectedly. "Weird... I thought—" Your words were abruptly cut off by a loud and startling BANG. Foxy's eyes were now fixed on you, but they were different from what you were used to. They were red and filled with anger, just like in your recurring nightmares. In that harrowing moment, you froze in place, uncertain of what to do next. "Y/N!" Vanessa's voice came through the walkie-talkie, but you couldn't hear it. Everything around you felt vacant, as if you were about to become Foxy's last meal of the night... or so you feared.
An arm swiftly reached out and pulled you close to its owner. Mike clutched you tightly, and a sense of terror and dread washed over both of you. It was Mike who managed to break free from the grip and make a dash for the monitor room, but just as he got there, Bonnie arrived, blocking his path. "Damn it," he cursed, frantically scanning for an alternate route. You, from your vantage point, weakly directed him, "The first aid room...to the right."
Without uttering a word of thanks, which, given the gravity of the situation, seemed secondary to getting you to safety, Mike finally brought you to the emergency room. It was a room that had seen far too much use, but oddly enough, everything seemed to return to normal once you arrived. The animatronics had moved elsewhere, and for some reason, they couldn't access the area. This brought a sense of relief to Mike. He carefully placed your body on a rather shabby bunk bed and softly murmured, "Here..." You remained in a state of shock, your eyes wide as if your body had been frozen in place. "Hey," He attempted to reassure you, "you're safe now. Vanessa should... Great job, Mike, real smooth." He berated himself inwardly for his awkward choice of words.
Upon hearing Vanessa's presence, you lifted your head abruptly, your eyes brimming with tears you were trying to hold back. Just when you thought of her, she appeared, precisely knowing where to find you. You felt a mixture of relief and concern as she leaned in to inspect you for any wounds or scratches, cupping your face and keeping her gaze locked on you. "Has they had any water?" Mike, who was present to assist, appeared increasingly nervous this time. Being new to this place, he didn't know everything either. "Where... Where is it?" He stammered, quickly searching the room. Vanessa pointed in the direction, her eyes never leaving you. "The first storage room to the left."
"Y/N, look at me." Vanessa implored, his voice filled with unease. "The man doesn't exist. He's not here... He's a fictional—"
Nervously, Mike handed the water bottle to Vanessa, who then offered it to you. This time, you shook your head vigorously, tears streaming down your face. "No! I saw him. Foxy spoke his name to me! It can't just be in my dreams!" You pleaded, desperate to convince them, despite your previous breakdowns being labeled as delusional by past doctors. As you shook your head, you realized that Mike was beside you. You clung to his arm, causing him to gulp nervously, just a little. "You have to believe me... Please..."
Mike found it hard to believe, even though you had clearly experienced a breakdown in that moment. While it was entirely understandable, he tried to do the same thing Vanessa did. "Perhaps you should just take a moment to breathe." He suggested. "Whenever I'm in a state of panic, my doctor advises me to take deep breaths." You observed him closely and countered. "And does your doctor say you're insane?"
Insane…
As undeniable as the truth was, it struck Mike that perhaps you were right. Everything seemed so peculiar when it came to Abby and Y/N's imaginary friends, especially with Vanessa working so hard to conceal her friend's breakdowns. "You know... now that you mention it..." Mike began, leaning in to discuss it further. Vanessa attempted to nudge him away, but you allowed him to continue. But he stopped. And by locking eyes with each other, you both knew something was wrong with this place. So in response, you leaned in and wrapped yourself in his arm. There was something about him that felt like home. You felt protected and, for once, someone truly understood you.
On the other hand, Mike comforted you with a few soothing rubs on your back. He glanced at Vanessa, who seemed to share the relief but carried a heavy load of guilt inside, which she wasn't ready to disclose to either Mike or you. “Shh… I got you.” He said, with a soothing voice that remembered it as your older brother. Not letting it go he continued. “We are going to get through all of this together… Y/N.” 
“Together…” 
In the distance, Abby observed the trio with Foxy's humanoid presence beside her. Foxy, who felt a deep sense of guilt for what he had done to them just hours ago, hesitated to intervene to bring Y/N back to him. However, as he watched Mike and you, he felt a strong urge to protect you, jealousy even you were a mother figure for everyone, but especially Foxy. Abby noticed his face changing into hatred until she halted him with a reassuring smile. "There's no need," Abby whispered. "They have found someone... Someone who truly cares for them. Someone who will love and protect them."
Foxy silently observed the scene unfolding before his eyes, and as he heard Abby's words, he felt a sense of relief welling up within him. Watching it all happen, Foxy came to realize that Abby was indeed right. Y/N had found someone they could genuinely rely on, someone with whom she could openly express their feelings..
Fin. 
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cozymaples · 5 months
Text
job offer (part 2) | steve raglan x reader
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a/n: hi hi!! he's back.....! also, you literally do not have to have read part 1 for this, but that link is right here in case you decide to! contains: degradation, bondage, breeding kink, power imbalance, afab!reader, age gap (however the reader is not a minor of course!) DUB!CON, very brief, reader says she doesn't like something when answering a question, but does, and clearly gives consent following.
word count: 2.1k
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It had been two weeks since you’d seen Steve. You’d started your new job, as promised, but you couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t called you, and you couldn’t help your mind from racing. Did he bend every girl looking for a job over his desk like that? Is that why he has such a high success rate? Your typing grows more aggressive on the keyboard in front of you as your thoughts wander, finally sending your last e-mail of the day. 
To be fair, your new job was good. Great, even. You’d made a great first impression on your boss without fucking him, and people seemed to like you well enough. You collect your belongings, heading out for the day with a sigh. Giving a small wave and grin to your coworkers on your departure, you finally exhale all of your stress as you leave the building. You check your phone, reading the time. 5:15. You knew that Steve’s hours of operation were at least until six, so what was the harm in dropping by?
When you arrive, it’s desolate. The last few employees are packing up their things, and suddenly you feel like a burden-not wanting to hassle anyone. You opt for a middle ground, walking up to the receptionist window with a warm grin. “Hi,” You say. The woman looks back at you, silent. Irritated. “I just, uh, I was wondering if Mr.Raglan was still here?” The woman looks..confused. “Sure is,” She says, assuming you're a late appointment. “You head on back, though. He’ll lock up.” You can tell she doesn’t want to be there a minute longer, so you nod gratefully. “Of course, thank you so much.” You grin at her, and she offers a small one back. 
Making your way down the hall, you see the bold letters of his name embellished on his door, which is ajar. You knock lightly, sticking your head in first, cautiously. He looks up from the stack of papers he’s got piled on his desk, meeting your gaze. His expression goes from stressed to amused..perceptive. “Hey, you.” He says, sing-songy. His eyes return back to his papers, and your brows furrow at the reaction. You take the opportunity to walk to the chair in front of his desk, plopping yourself down as you fold your hands in your lap. You’d expected more of a reaction, and he can tell. He sighs, a smug grin adorning his features as he looks up at you, finally putting the papers down to settle. 
“Job not what you were lookin’ for?” He asks. 
“You didn’t call me.”
“Didn’t know you wanted me to.”
You sputter, scoffing at his words. “You didn’t-you didn’t know?” You repeat. He shakes his head, elbows on his desk as he holds up his hands with a defensive shrug.  
He has to be joking.
“You have all of my contact information, I mean-” Is your next line of defense. He raises his hand in a ‘stop’ motion to quiet you, easing you into silence. “And you..wanted me to..go through a private file of employee confidential information for..what, exactly?” You can’t tell if he’s testing you, but the way your clit is throbbing makes you want to ace it. “To fuck me.” You say, plainly. Clearly there’s no other way around this, and if he wants to hear it, so be it. He chortles, exhaling harshly through his nose. 
“To fuck you.”
“Yes, but if there’s something funny about that to you, then I can just-” You start, aggressively, wondering why you even came here in the first place. “Shhh,” He hushes, raising his hand gently once more. He stands up, closing the door to his office. You swallow harshly. He walks slowly back to his desk, coolly, speaking softly to you. “Come here,” He says, gently. You’re confused at the sudden change of heart, but oblige anyway. You can’t ignore how badly your pussy needs him anymore. You walk around his desk, standing where his chair would normally be. It’s pushed back behind him, to grant you more room. He stands in front of you, towering over you as he cups your face in his hands. You take a step back, gazing up at him, doe-eyed as he studies your features. “Pretty thing like you came all the way back here for me?” He asks. 
So it was a test.
“Yes.” You say, nodding. 
“Good.” He says. He presses a kiss to the top of your head before lowering himself to his knees, guiding you up onto his desk as he sinks lower. When you’re finally adjusted, he’s knelt in front of you, large palms running up and down your nylon clad thighs. The skirt you’re wearing gets bunched up from the motions, hiking higher and higher up your legs. “See you couldn’t be as much of a slut today, considering your new job and all.” He says, referring to the nylon tights as he pinches a piece of the fabric between his fingers. He pulls it from your skin, letting it snap back against your flesh as he lets go. You nod, inhaling sharply through your nose. “Corporate job.” You say. “Yeah, I know.” He replies. He seems uninterested, but it’s far from the case. He just..knows. Knows what you’re going to say before you say it. Knows what you’re thinking, too, it seems. 
Before you can say anything else, he roughly rips the tights off, and you gasp as the fabric tears. The sudden movement causes you to lean backwards, leaning on your palms for support. It’s as if you’ve fallen into a trap, but one that you want to be in. One that you shouldn’t want to be in, but you do. He spreads your legs for you, the torn fabric falling around your thighs as he tears the only thing left in his way; your panties. The actions leave him eye level with your exposed cunt, and you gasp harshly. 
“Jesus, do you have to destroy everything I own?” You’re exasperated, trying to catch your breath just from that alone. “Watch your mouth.” He replies. Your breath catches in your throat, and you can only nod in response. He tugs you closer to him, leaving you on the edge of his desk. Your palms once again steady you, of which he takes note. “Good girl. Keep yourself steady-can you do that?” 
You nod. “Yes-”
His mouth finally latches to your pussy, and you gasp loudly as you fall back onto your elbows. “Fuck!” You hiss, and you can hear him chuckle into your pussy, the vibrations against your clit making you dizzy. His mouth works on your clit, spitting on it just to lap it all back up. Moans spill tirelessly from your mouth, and you finally lay fully on your back. He uses the opportunity to tug you fully towards him, shelving your legs on his broad shoulders. You lay there, your hands lunging from your sides to tug at his hair, babbling his name over and over again. He’s quiet, which normally would irritate you, but you don’t want to risk making him talk right now; considering the way he’s feasting on your pussy. You feel yourself dripping, even more so when he slides two thick fingers inside of you. “Ah-!” You gasp, and he soothes you, pulling his mouth from you. “Come on, sweetheart. You’re alright, yeah?” He asks, feigning sympathy as he rubs his thumb against your clit, his fingers no longer pumping inside of you; only a standstill. 
You nod rapidly, desperate for him to do anything. “Uh-huh, m’okay, please-” You beg, “Want more, m’sorry-”
“Bet you are.” He tsk’s, resuming the motion of his fingers pumping inside of you. You tilt your head upwards, chin to your chest as you look down at him. You whine, desperate for his mouth, but willing to take anything at the moment. He talks to you again, still on his knees. “Gave you that job, now you wanna come here and have me fuck you, again, after hours, nonetheless.” He scolds, and you whine. “Spoiled fucking rotten is what you are. Fucking whore.” You can’t help the way your pussy clenches at his words, sobbing from pleasure as he licks at your clit, sliding his fingers in and out of your dripping pussy. You hear him moan from beneath you, chuckling softly afterwards. “Yeah, you like that, huh? Like when I call you a fuckin’ slut?” You writhe above him, your elbow knocking his mug off of his desk, hearing it clatter against the floor as it shatters. He’s unphased, still waiting for an answer to his question. “No,” You say, but your moans prove otherwise, as does you clenching around his fingers. “No?” He repeats. “I’d say you’re fuckin’ lying. And lying sluts get nothing.” You whine, tugging at his hair. 
“Of course I fucking like it-is that what you wanna hear?” You pant.
“Only wanna hear it if it’s true.” 
“It’s-!” You want to scream, wondering how someone so collected and calm can make you so frustrated. “It’s true! I swear, it’s true-” A thin layer of sweat graces your features, and you can feel your orgasm rapidly approaching. “God, m’gonna fucking-” You babble, and he immediately pulls away. 
Now you really want to scream.
“Are you kidding?!” You ask, your features flushed and cherried red with warmth. You regret your sentence as soon as you hear the jingle of his belt coming undone, tossing it harshly to the side as it hits the radiator with a clang! 
“You’ve got some fuckin’ mouth on you, you know that?” He asks, and you immediately retreat back into submission. “I’m-I just don’t understand!” You snap, exasperated. He makes fleeting eye contact here and there, focusing on the surroundings as he lines you up at the edge of his desk. You can tell he’s frustrated, and it’s your fault. “And what don’t you understandl? Huh?” He asks, lining his cock with your entrance. The way the head of his cock brushes against your clit makes your eyes roll backwards, lips parted and jaw slack as it bumps into the bundle of nerves. “F’you even want me here or not-” He laughs, as if he’s never been asked something so ridiculous before. He slides his cock into you, pulling you closer by your hips to help you sink further onto it. 
“If I even want you here.” He repeats, baffled. He holds you steady, and you’re hanging off of the desk just enough for him to fuck into you steadily. He wraps his arm around your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him. You breathe heavily, expelling moans as you stay chest to chest. He presses his lips to yours, and you feel your worries wash away. Why did you even have worries? This was disgusting-vile-to return to the workplace of a man older than you, just to have him fuck you. 
“Do you-think-I don’t-want you here?” He grunts through thrusts, pounding into you deliciously. You shake your head rapidly, wondering why you would even care if he wanted you here in the first place. The way he’s fucking into you makes your brain go fuzzy, dumb with lust. It makes you anxious, fearing you’ll say something you shouldn’t under the guise of intimacy. “Do you want me to want you here?” He asks, the question buried into the flesh of your neck as he kisses it. Your head lulls back, feeling like putty in his hands. “Yes,” You answer, and he groans into your flesh. “Fuck,” He takes the confession as a cue to fuck you harder, which you’re not complaining about. Your arms drape over his shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer into you. You’re both flushed, features graced with rosiness. His thrusts grow more sloppy, inconsistent. You know he’s close and  you nod rapidly. “Come in me.” You beg, plead. “He pulls his head from the crook of your neck, holding you by the back of it, free hand tight on your hip. “Of course you’d want that.” He scoffs, but who is he to deny you?
You feel his load shoot into you, warm and thick as you babble his name, cumming around his cock as you drain him. As he finishes, he still holds you close to him, both of you steadying your breathing. He finally pulls his cock from you, his load pooling onto the desk beneath you. You quickly avert your gaze, biting the inside of your cheek. It seems you’re both thinking the same thing, and he dresses himself in the silence. 
“We shouldn't.” He says, gazing at the wall with folded arms. “But we are.” You reply. 
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