#spring bonnie/reader

[superstar-nan]

Execute Command

Night 2

Summary: You fix Springtrap's voicebox.

Words: 5,691

Fun stuff: Trigger warnings for obsessive behavior, trauma and psyche related dissociation, graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of harm to animals (never shown but implied), and Springtrap being a dick. I wrote his voice like how Pit Bonnie sounds in Into the Pit :p

First ♡ Next

───── (\ /) ─────

You screamed when you saw me, and pleasure shivered through me. You grasped your heart as you caught your breath, your eyes shaking with fear. It made me feel alive again. I wanted to hold your vitality in my hands. I wanted to choose whether you lived or died. Like coming down from a high, you closed your eyes and your breathing slowed, heavy as it was. 

“How did you...” You looked at the broken door knob discarded on your floor. You swallowed. I could see your mind race beyond your eyes, and it was everything I wanted. How? When, why—how? You must’ve been asking yourself. It must’ve been so... discomforting not to know. That I was quiet enough to not wake you. That there was no noise to draw me to you. How long I watched your chest rise and fall with your sleeping breath. 

Strange. I enjoyed watching you sleep, beyond needing your presence to keep the static from decomposing my mind. Your rhythmic and steady breathing was... leisurely captivating. I didn’t want to stop watching you. Whether it was compulsion or envy, I didn’t know.

Your brow furrowed. You moved off of the bed, still clutching the blanket to your chest. “Hey, Bonnie...” You drew out the syllables as if I were a wild animal in need of lulling. At the very least, you were talking to me instead of to yourself. It was delightful you shivered when my eyes followed you. “Was I making too much noise?” Your voice wavered. 

You slowly, tentatively approached my side. What I wouldn’t have given to jump at you, even if just to startle you. Even more to hurt you. 

When I didn’t lunge at you, you held out your hand to me. “Come on. Let’s go.”

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

Dumbass.

Your brow furrowed lightly, and then relief washed over you in a way that enraged me. “The storage protocol...” You said in a thankful exhale. I swore that would be your last thankful breath. “Must’ve been pretty boring stuck with me, huh?” 

I would strangle the laugh from your throat.

“Well, uh...” You looked at me, unsure. You were sizing me up, debating on dragging me out of your room. You were too easy to read. “...You can just stay in here. In my room. I guess.”

You grabbed the thin device that was your phone and tapped on its surface. You swore under your breath, distractedly tapping at it while hurrying to your closet. You set the phone down on your desk, but it was ringing loud enough that I could hear it.

Someone picked up, “Where are you? I’ve been calling all morning!” I knew that voice. The night guard, the one that called help too soon—the one that got away. Maybe they didn’t have to be the one that got away, if I was patient enough.   

“I know, I know!” You were swiping through clothes in your closet, “I slept in!”

“I thought that thing killed you!” How sweet it was when they trembled trying to find me on the cameras, when they squeaked seeing me peek behind the door frame, when they nearly fainted at the sight of me beyond the glass. I would’ve played with them the whole week if they let me.

You laughed, pulling something out of your closet. Your laughter would’ve enraged me, if I didn’t catch the subtle tremor behind it. 

“I’m being serious!” The voice on the phone said, cracking in a delectable stammer, “Something’s not right about that thing! When it was here, it was like it- it was chasing me or... or something.”

“Really?” You said, and you were in the middle of taking off your clothes when you looked back at me. Your eyes trained on me, calculating and thoughtful, “It does seem to follow me. It’s much more advanced than I first thought. I wonder if it has some kind of hide and seek protocol, maybe something to play with the kids?”

> execute([H+S])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

It was only slightly satisfying that Bonnie was just as bound as I was.

“It’s more than that.” The voice on the phone said, becoming quieter—more timid. “It’s like it’s... aware. Did anything happen last night? Anything weird or did it do anything unusual?”

You paused for only a beat as you grabbed your new set of clothes, “No, nothing happened.”

Oh. You were a liar, carrot.

“...Nothing?”

My eyes traveled your bare body. Shoulders. Chest. Stomach. Thighs. I’m sure if I touched you, you’d shiver against my cold, metal fingertips. Your blood would rush in response, warming your skin that I loved to feel. I would enjoy carving lacerations into your warm body, a lovely heated canvas.

You slipped on your new clothes as you talked, “Nothing out of the ordinary. Hey listen, I’m gonna swing by to pick you up for breakfast, okay? Then, I can tell you everything I found. Like I said, this guy is way more advanced than I thought was even possible.”

“...Alright,” The voice was hesitant.

“See you soon!” You tapped your phone before they could respond. You shoved the device in your pocket along with your keys. You winked at me in a way that was both charming and annoying, “Hold down the fort, will you Bonnie?”

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

If only I could kill myself a second time. 

You left me with a loud slam of the front door. I resented you for it—leaving me. Sunlight peeked through your windows. It was too bright. A neighbor's dog barked down the street. It was too loud. Nobody was here. It was too cold. 

You returned when it was still light outside. You had a plastic bag filled with wires and tools. You set the bag on your bed, but you didn’t do anything other than nosily inspect my body. You spent most of your day on your computer, and it didn’t take me long to figure out you were working. Your computer, strangely enough, was thin like your phone; the keyboard built in. It was shaped more like a children’s book than a computer, opening up like a suitcase would.

Your desk was in your room, which meant I could watch you all day. I didn’t mind it. I itched for more, obviously. However, like watching you sleep, it was leisurely captivating. The gentle tapping of your flat keyboard, your small and subtle movements, the silence that was comfortable; not suffocating—it was just enough to clear the white noise without hurting me with intensity.

Every so often, you would take a quick glance at me. When you did, you would make a face, shiver, and then return to your work. After the fourth time, you closed your computer, grabbed your things, and left your room, closing the door behind you. I resented you for that, too. I could still hear your clicks and taps from beyond the door, but it wasn’t enough. 

How selfish, carrot.

The sun had set by the time I heard you moving around in your living room. I heard pots and pans at one point, the TV playing at another. At another, you came back into your room to fix your broken doorknob, and you cringed as I watched you the entire time. 

It wasn’t long after that when you decided to give me attention.

You came into your room, but you left the door open behind you. Did you feel more safe with an exit? If you ran, I would catch you. “Hi, Bonnie.”

I tried to move. The storage protocol stopped me. It wasn’t midnight yet.

“Feeling lonely here all by yourself?” You said, offhandedly. Distractedly. You didn’t mean it, but it still annoyed me. 

Lonely. What a pathetic word to describe my dependance on your presence. Neurosis felt more accurate.

You were staring intently at my chest. You bit your lip. “Wow,” You said, nervously. “It’s really in there isn’t it? Behind all the...” You waved your gloved hand over my chest, grimacing.

My whole body, metal and flesh, tensed. You were going to take out my voicebox. You were smart enough to do it while my storage protocol was in effect, but that didn’t stop the dreadful sensation that spread through my body like spiders. You were going to pick and prod at my innards like a mortician would a cadaver. I would’ve broken your fingers if I could move. I was violent at the thought.

You held your breath—as if you had anything to worry about, as if you were the one having someone dig their fingers into your chest. 

Then, you gently probed past my outer casing. 

It burned. You were saying something but I couldn’t listen because it burned. Pain and rage gripped me, searing hot. I wanted to rip off your hand. I wanted to rip off your head. I wanted to make you feel this pain. I wanted to dig my fingers into your chest. I would kill you I would kill you I would kill you I would-

There was a click. All at once, you ripped something out of me, and I saw white.

You gasped, sharp and quick. The pain cooled to a dim, throbbing ache. I wasn’t standing by your bed. I was on it. You were pinned under me, my voicebox in your hand and connected to my chest by wires. My claws were on your chest, digging into your skin, drawing blood where you drew mine. 

I moved. I moved. I could’ve laughed. And your horror was my delight.

Your eyes were wide in terror, and how that fed me. Your free hand instinctively came to my wrist, and you winced at the blood I drew. 

It wasn’t enough. I needed to feel your ribs crack. I needed you to scream. I needed to push and push, slower and slower, until my hand seeped deep into your lungs. I needed to feel your viscera in between my fingers.

> Execute([MOVE])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Satisfaction slipped from my fingers and I would’ve screamed. You were right there. You were right under me! 

I wanted to tear apart Bonnie more than I wanted to tear apart you.

You... You were terrified underneath me, shaking and breath quick, but that only made me want to hurt you more. You dug your nails into my wrist, trying to move me. It wouldn’t work. I couldn’t even move me. My rage elevated as your horror declined; the fear leaving your eyes as you realized I wasn’t moving.

You swallowed, letting go of my wrist. You tried to wriggle out underneath me, but I couldn’t budge. I had you pinned, my claws against your chest. You were just as much a prisoner as I was, and that brought me paltry satisfaction.

You let out a huff as you gave up on trying to slip out from under me, “Well. Shit.” You winced at my claws in your chest. I hadn’t dug deep, unfortunately, only scratching the surface.  “I’m gonna have to get a tetanus shot after this...” You said with a sigh.

You looked around the room, as if anything on the bed could help you escape from under me. Your eyes fell to my voicebox in your hand, then to your bag of tools you left here. You bit your lower lip. 

I could read it on your face. While I’m here... Might as well... You must’ve been thinking. How endearingly stupid.

You blindly palmed for the bag of tools behind you, feeling for which one you needed, while turning my voicebox in your hand. Your eyes were trained on it as you worked, wholly focused on the clockwork that was my machinery. 

Watching you so closely cooled my rage. I liked to watch. I hadn’t always, but I did now. Was it me or was it him? Did it matter? 

This close to you, I could memorize every detail of your features; the texture of your lashes, the hue of your eyes, the color in your lips as you bit them in your fixation. If I concentrated, I could feel your heartbeat through your chest, and I really liked that. I didn’t know if I wanted to slow it until it stopped or speed it up until it burst. 

You used your thumb to brush away calcified rust, replacing the wires of the voicebox, and I could feel it like it was flesh. You were quick. You were smart. A familiar, nasty feeling crept through me. Envy. I wanted the dexterity your fingers had, to move with delicate deftness. I wanted your mind that was so like Henry’s, quick to solve problems. I wanted your autonomy, free from the programming that chained me. I wanted your beauty, to not be some giant rotting thing. I wanted your breath, your blood, your life. I wanted to be you. I wanted you. I wanted to be you. I wanted you. I wanted to be you. I wanted you.

You let out a breathless laugh, one that sounded both nervous and droll. I didn’t notice through my jealous haze, but you were looking at me. “You’re going to burn a hole in me if you keep staring like that.”

I didn’t ease my stare.

You stared back, cursing lightly under your breath as your brow furrowed, “... Sometimes it feels like you’re...” 

Like I what, carrot? Like I’m watching you? Truly watching you? Thinking? Feeling? Like I’m alive? I assure you, I am.

You shook your head, “I need more sleep.” You snapped the voicebox into place in your hands, and I could feel it—I could feel it through him. It was working. Not that I could use it yet. I hated how easy of a task that was for you. “There. That should work,” You said, before flashing me a charming smile. “You’re not going to kill me if I put this back in you, are you?”

I might.

You shuffled through your pockets before holding your phone to your face, the glow of its screen reflecting on your skin, “Only a few minutes until midnight. We can test it out first, and then...” You grimaced, shifting under the weight of my claws, “Maybe there’s a command to get you to put this back in your chest? Something in that code of yours wants me out of your wires...”

Not the code, carrot. The corpse.

You exhaled slowly, setting my voicebox beside your head. Your eyes, still anxious at my visage, traveled down my face and neck to my chest. Your brow twitched. Your hand came to my chest, and my mind hummed sweetly at the soft touch. Gentle fingertips caressed my casing, your thumb rubbing delicately along its rim leaving a heavenly tingle in its wake. If I had breath, it would’ve hitched.

“Your bowtie is missing...” You said (was it? I hadn’t noticed), and your voice was somber. That should’ve enraged me, but I was too entranced by the feeling of your fingers. The sweetest of treats you could be...

You pulled your hand away from me, and I was cold again. 

> execute command [HOLD_HANDS]

My hand ripped from your chest and grabbed your wrist, mechanical in nature. You startled at the sudden movement, your breath gone from you. As much as I would’ve done the same thing, I couldn’t stand when he took control. I hated when he made me do things, controlled my body when I should’ve been controlling his. I squeezed your wrist tighter.

You hissed at the pain, but endured it. How exciting. How much would you bear? You checked the clock on your phone. It was midnight. “H-hi, Bonnie.”

You stared at me, intently, anticipation oozing from you. You wanted to hear me speak.

“H̴e̷l̵l̶o̵,” It hurt to speak. It was difficult to speak. My vocal chords moved with the voicebox in your hand. They were littered with holes, and it was rubbing sandpaper together using them. I’d dealt with worse pains, however, “C̶a̷r̶r̷o̸t̵.̶”

You reared away from my voicebox, grabbing onto my arm as if it was my voicebox that were haunted, “Good lord, is that your voice?” You said, your face twisted in a disgusted horror that I found humorous. “It sounds like you’re gargling live wires! Is that..?” You held the voice box to your ear, raising your eyebrows, before shaking your head in disbelief. You held it closer to you as if you doubted yourself, “Is that breathing? No.... no, that’s... Hell, I did not fix this thing.”

I think you did. Perfectly.

“Try...?” You swallowed, “Try saying something else, Bonnie.”

You held the box closely to your ear to listen. I was tempted to scream at the top of my ruined lungs to terrorize you—a strangely childish impulse. Did it come from Bonnie?

You furrowed your brow when I didn’t speak. “Hi, Bonnie?” You attempted, but I wouldn’t respond. You exhaled, exhaustion mixed with a touch of exasperation, as you swiped your fingers across your chest. You winced when you saw blood on your fingertips, eyes flitting to mine. You began to scoot out from under me. 

I grabbed your ankle and dragged you back.

Your head hit the bed with a soft thump. Your eyes were wide with the same look you gave me this morning—the one I relished. Fear of uncertainty. A slow build of dreadful ambiguity when I wasn’t hurting you, but unnerving you. Oh, how I loved to see you scared.

“Bonnie...” You said softly, like you were speaking to a wild creature again. You gently probed at my fingers, trying to peel me from your ankle without making any sudden movement. “Let me go.”

> execute command ([RELEASE]) = Yes/No?

> No.

> Execute([SQUEEZE])

I squeezed tighter and you sucked your breath in through your teeth. I could crush your ankle. I could squeeze until it pops and you're screaming. I could snap your foot in half with my grip, and you would never walk again. 

“Bonnie-!”

> Execute([RELEASE])

Which also, unfortunately, meant you would never run again.

You gasped when I let you go. I thought you would scramble away from me like a wounded animal. Instead, you trained your eyes on me. You were as captivated as you were afraid, your eyes scanning me as if staring at me long enough would answer your questions. Then, you rolled your shoulders, your hand still wet with your blood while you slowed your breath. You looked at your bloody hand.

“...Stay here, Bonnie.” You said, and your voice wavered. Pathetic. Surely you didn’t think I’d obey your demands? Regardless, you left, ignoring the way my eyes followed you as you went into your bathroom and locked the door.

I could already feel Bonnie urging me to follow you the moment you closed the door. I knew to wait.

Muffled beyond the bathroom door, the shower started. 

I took the voicebox you fixed in my hand. It was clean. All at once, I shoved it into my chest, suspending it in viscera and wires. It hurt less when I did it... but it still hurt like a bitch.

My ragged, strangled breath seeped from the voicebox like poisonous ichor. It really did sound like I was gargling live wires.

Just like the night before, I silently snapped your doorknob off. Steam billowed out of the bathroom, warm and wet. It was too bright in your bathroom; fluorescent whites burning me. You were beyond a shower curtain, probably trying to scrub the rust from your chest. 

I didn’t like the humidity. It reminded me of rainy nights. Abandoned buildings. Moist suits meant to stay dry. It reminded me of drowning in my own blood.

Metal bolts pierced through my skin and flesh; cracked through my bone. Fragments of my own bones scattered into my veins—I felt every tiny splinter puncturing my nerves. When did I stop twitching in pain, five weeks? Five years? 

I grabbed one of the fluorescent bulbs and snapped it in my hand.

You cursed, dropping something that loudly bounced in your tub. The shower was turned off with a heavy metal thunk. You swiped back the curtain, wide eyes looking at the door, to me, then to the shattered bulb. “Bonnie?!” 

My attention turned to you, my head twitching under the humidity. My voicebox wheezed with that strained breath, undead in nature. I couldn’t bleed, but glass shards jutted from my palm like knives.

You withered under my attention, before steeling yourself anyway. You grabbed a towel and wrapped it around your wet body as you stepped out of the shower. “Was,” You lifted up your arms before clapping them against your thighs, “Fifteen minutes too much to ask?”

My head twitched to the side.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You took my hand and started pulling out shards of glass. I could hardly feel it. You gagged realizing the shards were embedded in flesh.

“Y̵o̵u̷ ̵w̸i̶l̶l̴.̷” You shuddered when I spoke. I enjoyed that, “P̶u̸t̶ ̵m̶e̶ ̴b̴a̴c̸k̴ ̵t̸o̴g̵e̴t̸h̴e̶r̵.̷”

You had to stare at me when I spoke, your mouth opening and closing, as if you didn’t know what to say. As if you were choosing your next words carefully. Your brow furrowed lightly as you pulled another glass shard out of my palm. “I am.”

“N̷o̵.̵” I closed my fist around the glass and you cringed as if you felt the pain yourself, “F̸i̵x̶ ̷m̴y̵ ̸s̵t̷o̶r̵a̸g̷e̷ ̶p̶r̵o̴t̶o̵c̵o̸l̷.̶”

“I-” You swallowed, “I will. We have all week-”

I slammed my fist against your countertop, and you jumped, “N̷o̴w̷.”

“Now?” You said, shocked.

I didn’t respond, searing my gaze into yours.

You tried to step around me, but I moved in front of you. Through your dread, you somehow still had the spirit to look annoyed, “Well, can I at least get dressed first?”

My eyes dropped to your body. It was living flesh, warm and wet, shivering against the cold. Your chest had five uneven pinpricks from where I ripped out of you. Watered-down blood smeared your chest and stained the top of your towel a light red. Your towel hugged your drenched body, your soft skin. I imagined my hands—my hands, not Bonnie’s—hugging your curves, just as warm and alive as your skin. I wanted you. I wanted to be you. I wanted to hurt you. I wanted to have you. I wanted you I wanted you I wanted you I wanted you-

You grabbed my jaw with one hand and pulled it up so my eyes met yours. Your face, your neck, your chest was warm. You were flushed, “Who made you?” You spat the words like an insult. 

You didn’t wait for me to respond, ducking under my arm and slipping out the door. I didn’t silence my steps as I followed you, letting you hear the weight of my body as you flipped through your clothes. You purposefully positioned yourself away from me as you changed. I was transfixed with how your spine and shoulder blades moved under your skin—your own endoskeleton.

You turned around when you were done changing, “Are you done staring? You...” You waved your hands in my general direction, “Freaky thing.”

I wasn’t done staring. I liked watching you. I liked that it unnerved you. 

“I didn’t think so,” You motioned for me to follow you. “Come on. Let me see what I can do tonight.”

I didn’t move.

You sighed, before coming to my side. You held out your hand and I took it. Your hand was still wet. You lead me to your desk, appraising my body with analytical interest. You took a small flashlight to my chest.

“Yeah, it’s in there,” You said, circling behind me. “I can see it better from the back... Can you...?” You sounded unsure. You didn’t know if your words were getting through to me, “Sit?”

My head snapped to the side to look at you, and you flinched.

“Or kneel?” I liked that command even less, “You’re too tall.”

My head twitched to the side. I grabbed your desk chair and slowly dragged it to me, scraping against the desk with a metallic screech. I sat where you had access to my back.

I couldn’t see you, which agitated me, but I could hear you. You were filtering through your tools. “The fact that you can follow verbal commands is... brilliant.” My metal bones reverberated with delight over your condescending praise. Bonnie was too easy to please. “When were you built?”

> output speech(“[YEAR_EST]”) = Yes/No?

> No.

You waited for a few moments before you asked, “Who built you?”

> output speech(“Mr. Henry Emily”) = Yes/No?

> No.

You finally picked the tools you wanted and set them on your desk, “Well, you can’t blame me for trying.”

My head snapped to you, “D̶o̶n̴'̷t̷ ̵p̷u̷l̶l̷ ̶i̶t̵ ̵o̵u̵t̶.̵” You startled at my voice.

“I’m not- I won’t,” Your brow furrowed as I saw your mind race beyond your eyes. I wanted to know how fast your heart was beating. You swallowed and it was thick. “Your suit is rotten enough that I can...” You shook your head. “I’m going to access your PLC from the outside, alright?”

You were speaking clearly and plainly—purposefully, as if to ensure I processed what you said. I didn’t respond, but I did turn my head forward.

I felt your hesitant hands on my back, peeling past my rotted casing and flesh. You took your time inspecting my insides, and I could feel your thumb prodding into me. You weren’t ripping a piece of me out, but your intrusion was still grating; inflamed and abrasive.

I couldn’t see what you were doing, but then you connected something to me. An electrical shock jolted my core, stopping my mechanical and biological functions with a violent brake. For a moment, I was in a hellish suspension. Then, like a dull computer slowly humming to life, I came back to awareness.

“Huh?” You were looking at your thin computer. There were wires connecting me to it. I imagined wrapping them around your neck—pulling them tight, cords digging into your flesh. I could make you feel that damned suspension, no electricity required. “Strange...”

You turned back to me, but stuttered when you saw how I looked at you. You swallowed your visceral panic and began tinkering with the wires in my back.

“...Something is wrong with you.” You said, returning to your computer. “You should be dead... But you're not.”

My eyes made subtle mechanical movements as I stared into your carpet.

“...What’s powering you?” You whispered, before scoffing to yourself, “Translating this is going to be a beast.” I felt the tapping of your keyboard beyond the wires. They itched like bugs crawling on my skin. I wanted them off of me, but I knew to be patient. I could be patient.

Patience was easier when I could watch you.

As I stared at the monotonous carpet floor, I became hyper aware of every sound. Your taps and clicks (obviously), the quiet humming of the air conditioning, the rumbling of your dishwasher beyond the door, the rustling of leaves in the wind outside—a dog suddenly barking in a way that stalled your fingers before you resumed your tapping. The more I focused on these sounds, the more I heard a heartbeat. A low, weak drum that frenzied my mind like wasps. It had to have been yours. It had to be yours. It was yours. It was yours.

You hummed, and it snapped me out of my trance. I couldn’t hear a heartbeat anymore, and my hands twitched at the urge to dig my fingers into your chest just so I could hear it again. “I would kill to talk to whoever made you...” So would I. “The way they programmed you is... unusual. Genius, but seriously unusual. I bet I could knock out half of it tonight-”

My head jerked to the side, “F̷i̶n̵i̸s̴h̴ ̶i̴t̶.̶” 

You flinched, “I-I am!”

“T̶o̵n̸i̶g̵h̶t̸.̶”

“Tonight?” You laughed nervously, “There’s no way-”

“T̶o̵n̸i̶g̵h̶t̸.̶” I repeated, my strangled breath being squeezed from my voicebox.

“I’m telling you, it’s not-”

“T̶o̵n̸i̶g̵h̶t̸.̶”

You scoffed, and you had the gall to sound annoyed. “Alright, if it’s so easy, why don’t you do it?”

. . .

Someone forgot to be afraid.

I stood up. I grabbed the wires and ripped them out of my back. I dropped them to the floor. You stumbled away from me, remembering yourself. 

Too late.

“I mean, I could try-?”

My head twitched. My voicebox popped and fizzled with strangled wheezing, “L̵e̷t̶'̶s̷ ̶p̸l̵a̷y̷.̵” My voice reverberated with Bonnie’s.

“N-no, let’s not play!” Your voice cracked trying to appeal to my circuitry.

> [PLAY MODE] = active

> enter [GAME]: . . .

You squeaked, and fever rushed through my veins and wires.

> Execute([H+S])

“H̷i̵d̵e̴ ̶a̶n̵d̶ ̷s̵e̵e̸k̷.”

You choked on your gasp as you caught yourself on the wall behind you. Just look at you. Your eyes shook with horror, darting between me and the exit you left open for yourself. I drank your fear like wine. It was so sweet to me. I deserved this. I had been patient. I waited all day. You abandoned me behind the door. I let you dig around in my viscera. It was only fair that I got to have my fun.

> executing command = [H+S]

Exhilaration raced over my metal bones like lightning. I couldn’t tell who wanted to play more, me or Bonnie. It didn’t matter. I still felt twice the delight.

“T̵e̷n̷.̸” 

Your already frightened eyes widened. What an exciting little thing you were.

“N̵i̸n̸e̸.”

You bolted out of the room, your legs barely stumbling to keep up with your own pace. It took everything in me to keep from chasing you down now—hearing the screams you’d make when I’d grab you and slam your head into the floor.

“E̶i̶g̵h̶t̵.̸”

But it was more fun to play, and I didn’t know if I could stop myself from killing you if I caught you now. 

“S̵e̵v̵e̸n̷.̷”

...Could I stop myself even if I did play by the rules?

“S̴i̵x̵.̷”

I heard a loud crash and the sound of furniture moving. My head twitched to the side, mechanical and annoyed. You’d better not make it easy for me, or I’d rip out your intestines the moment I laid eyes on you.

"F̶i̸v̴e̸.̴"

My eyes jerked at the sound of wood scraping against the tile, then strained creaking. At least you weren't stupid enough to run out the door.

"F̴o̷u̵r̸.̸"

Anticipation itched at my fingertips as your frantic wooden creaking rang in my head.

"T̷h̵r̶e̶e̸.̶"

I imagined your trembling body when I'd catch you, the begging that would spill from your lips like sugar, how your skin would break under my grip, painting my fingers a lovely red. My shattered bones shuddered, intoxicated at the thought.

"T̴w̷o̸.̶"

Metal scraped against wood once more, and then there was a loud slamming.

"O̸n̷e̸.̷"

Pressure released from my metal joints in a hiss of air. I took heavy steps. I let my strangled breath echo against your walls. I wanted you to know where I was. I scratched the doorframe to your living room with the loud screech of metal on metal. My eyes mechanically processed your living room. Every inch of the room was scanned for variations. Bonnie was made for this.

What made that creaking noise? I stepped closer to the center of the living room, eyes darting from furniture to cabinets to doors. Even in silence, I couldn't hear your muffled breaths. They should’ve been quickened with your fear, a delightful hushed series of pants and puffs. Were you holding your breath? That thrilled me.

Taking steps past your kitchen, my eyes jerked upward. A single string swayed back and forth from the ceiling: the entrance to the attic. I felt the edges of my petrified grin widened.

I quieted. I loved giving them false hope. It made their horror more raw; their screams louder. I quietly took the string in my hand, soft enough to be gentle. 

I yanked down the ladder in one loud wooden SLAM. It struck the floor in a terrible crash. I would've given anything to see your expression. Were you crying?

I took one loud step up.

CRACK!

...

I snapped the first step.

I carefully stepped on the second step.

CRACK!

Rage and desperation washed over me like a sheet of icy rain. Your damned ladder was too weak to hold me. I tried to be even more gentle on the third step, but it didn't matter. It too snapped under my weight.

It wasn't fair... I had you! I had you! You were cheating.

In a fit of wrath, I ripped the ladder from your ceiling and shattered it against your floor.

As if to taunt me, you peaked past the entrance to the attic. Your expression was everything I wanted: eyes wide in terror, face paled with horror, body shaking as you looked at me—but it didn't matter. I could not have you.

"C̵͓̑Ḧ̵̟́E̵̖͋Ä̵̡́T̵͈̕Ę̶̆R̶̹̃!̷̗́" My voicebox popped and fried in a short-circuiting monstrous screech. You flinched away from me, ducking back into the attic.

It wasn't fair. I deserved this. I deserved this! You were mine! You were mine! And now, I couldn't even watch you sleep. I grabbed the shattered remnants of the ladder and flung it against the ceiling, fragmenting it in a screaming CRASH!

I twitched. My whole body itched. White noise was swallowing me. You were being quiet. I was alone. Again. This was your fault. This was your fault. I hated you. I needed to kill you. I needed to kill something. I needed blood.

Your neighbor's dog started to bark again. I stilled.

It wouldn't be my finest kill, but it wouldn't be the first time either.

> [PLAY MODE] = Active

> enter [GAME]: . . .

> Execute[FETCH]

[magicalbunbun]

William's and y/n's

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Springtrap x Reader | Summary: Your uncle has asked you to keep watch over his new investment, Fazbear Frights, and the vintage artifacts his attraction contains. When you begrudgingly accept his offer, things take a turn for the weirder. An encounter in your dreams with a yellow rabbit changes you…for better, or worse?

Heads up: This fic is not for everybody, and that’s okay! It’s a fucked-up fever dream and if the summary intrigues you, come along for the ride. If not, that’s okay too. Things get heavy here. There’s monsterfucking, dream sex, vaginal penetration, some choking, fear, lust, disgust, basically a whole grab bag of fuckery, so if that’s your thing, read on, dear deviant 🫵♥️ PS the end is kind of fire, I love a good twist!!!

To be honest, you thought the idea of opening a theme park ‘attraction,’ based on the mysterious disappearances of children was fucked up. But your uncle was convinced there was a market for such a sick endeavor, that an audience existed whose search for thrills and chills would have them willing to shed money for a chance at experiencing horrific local nostalgia.

Because really, who wouldn’t want to relive the tragedy of multiple kids going missing? You were being sarcastic, of course. But part of that sarcasm stemmed from genuine bewilderment. What was your uncle thinking when he formed the concept of Fazbear Frights? He’d always been into horror as a genre, but as far as you’d understood, his interest was confined to books and film, not true crime. And if the subject matter of the Freddy’s story had involved the tragic disappearance of local adults, maybe Fazbear Frights wouldn’t have bothered you as much as it did. But kids had gone missing, lives had been upended, and your uncle was about to make a profit off of their heartache.

The worst part of all? You’d accepted his offer to work there. The cost of life after college was kicking your ass; you could barely afford your rent as it was, working two part-time jobs. Money was more than tight; you needed extra cash wherever you could find it. And besides, the Fazbear Frights gig would only last a couple of weeks, just until the attraction opened. Your uncle’s job offer had been to monitor the security of the place overnight, with generous pay promised. You couldn’t understand why he’d be willing to pay someone to guard a bunch of creepy old relics from an abandoned pizza parlor, or why additional security was necessary when the theme park itself already had an overnight guard? Your uncle maintained that additional security was needed, and that he only trusted family with the responsibility of protecting such an important investment as his precious, twisted attraction…

Entering Fazbear Frights, your first impression is that it’s really fucking ugly. Granted, it’s supposed to look old fashioned, and maybe the building’s creepiness is simply proof of good set design. However, a sense of unease lingers in your stomach, and you’re almost positive it’s caused by something beyond the decor. The attraction is fully furnished, but won’t open for a couple more weeks while the finishing touches on lighting and sound are tweaked. Those changes are made during the day, when at least a little sunlight can be seen filtering in through the windows, reminding you there’s life outside. For your part, working the night shift, the dark building makes you feel secluded and more than a little creeped out.

You have a flashlight, and mostly functional electricity running through the building. But there’s still much to be desired in the way of making the attraction feel…not haunted. And it occurs to you that that’s the word which describes how you’re feeling: haunted. The hairs on your skin are standing at attention, a cold sweat clinging to the back of your neck, but why? Obviously the setting is creepy, but it’s meant to be. You’re usually comfortable around spooky decor. It’s not as if you’re a scared kid wandering the halls of a haunted house alone…but that’s how you this place makes you feel…

It’s getting late. An outdated digital clock (probably a relic from the late eighties itself) on the desk in front of you reads 3 AM. You shiver as yet another cold breeze whispers past your shoulders. You look around, studying the vintage posters on the wall, wondering how much money your uncle threw away in order to call these scraps his own. The figures staring back at you look menacing, despite their wide smiles. They’re called animatronics, you remember. That’s how your uncle had referred to them. You also recall his mentioning one animatronic in particular, a Freddy’s original he’d managed to get his hands on and would be bringing to Fazbear Frights. You haven’t seen it yet, and to be totally honest, you’re not sure you want to. If the animatronic your uncle purchased looks anything like the ones in the posters you’re staring at, you’d prefer to never encounter such a creature…

Re-entering the theme park feels like walking through the gates of Hell. You’d rather be anywhere else than here. Another night of spending six hours alone in the gloomy replica of a literal crime scene has your stomach twisting. And you didn’t sleep well, either. Your dreams had been too vivid to allow you rest. You’d dreamed of a monster, or something that could certainly be called one…a massive, towering figure with patchy, mustard-yellow fur clinging to its skeletal frame. It resembled a rabbit, or had, at some point long ago. While still maintaining the general shape of a rabbit, its appearance had decayed, warping its cuddly features into something ugly. Its eyes were cold gray orbs that rested deep in its oversized, vacant skull, tendons and ligaments intertwined with wires that wrapped its skeleton, which you later realized, was comprised of metal rather than bone.

Your senses had been particularly keen in the dream. The rabbit’s scent was stale, yet comfortingly nostalgic. It reminded you of an old quilt your grandmother had once given you from the bottom of her dresser drawer, which smelled of love and other ancient, homemade things. She’d wrapped you up inside it, with kisses and promises that the chilly winter night wouldn’t be as cold now, that the quilt had been waiting there in the dresser for years, waiting for someone who needed it…

The rabbit’s fur was coarse, your skin a soft contrast when you wrapped your arms around its waist. It felt like the outdoor carpet that had lined your parents’ back porch, which your feet and rain had pelted countless Summer nights. The rabbit’s fur was cool to the touch, moist with something bittersweet, a musky blend of old books with yellowed pages, their corners turned down and words lined in pencil…

And against your lips, that was also his taste, his tongue the flavor of nostalgia, his large, unbearably strong hands crushing your body against his like he intended to make love to and ruin you all at once. Whether or not he consisted of machine or animal, he was more human than anything else, fully formed with the parts needed to bring you to a state of rapture. He held you suspended, your legs around his waist, fucking up into you with more vigor than his decayed appearance would suggest him capable of. You clutched his back, and then his ears, locking your fingers around them and bracing for impact as each of his mechanical, brutal thrusts punched inside you with a machine’s precision…

You’d woke up in a state of climax, your body drenched with sweat. The sheet beneath you had been ripped from the mattress, balled into tight fists. Your chest heaved, your bare breasts glistening with perspiration. Your cunt was pulsing, fluttering with the aftershocks of a powerful orgasm. Arousal dripped down your quivering thighs, onto the mattress which was soaking wet beneath you.

A shower and breakfast had done little to calm the questions racing through your mind. What the hell was that? Your dreams were rarely as vivid, as visceral, as the one about the rabbit. And as for the sex…it had been the best sex you’d had in a dream, ever. And it had been with what must surely have been a monster…

You hope your six hours at Fazbear Frights will go quickly tonight, partially because you’re still a little unsteady and aroused from your dream this morning. Additionally, you’re looking forward to sleep, because maybe the rabbit will be waiting for you when you close your eyes, again?

Unexpectedly, your uncle meets you at the staff entrance of Fazbear Frights. He seems excited about something, and you’re grateful for a distraction from your thoughts of the rabbit. “Hey kid,” your uncle greets you with a friendly wave. “How’d it go last night?”

“Alright,” you reply. “It’s a little creepy in there, but that’s the point, isn’t it?”

You don’t miss the subtle gleam in your uncle’s eyes, revealing how pleased he is that his attraction is having its desired effect. “That’s right,” he says cheerfully. “Gotta give the people what they want. And what they want-.” He turns his key in the lock and pulls the door open for the two of you. “-Is the authentic Freddy Fazbear experience. Which is why I’m here tonight.” He lets you step past him into the building, and locks the door behind you both. “-To show you the part of my collection that’ll really have people talking. We just brought him in today-you’ve got to see him…”

You grimace visibly. “It’s the fucking animatronic, isn’t it?” you groan, and your uncle rolls his eyes.

“Yes it is, sourpuss,” he teases. “And trust me when I tell you, it’s gonna make this place really feel like Freddy’s, like you’re stepping inside a time capsule or something.”

Your uncle led you down a hallway to one of the doors marked STAFF ONLY . “He’s showing his years of course,” your uncle continued, searching his ring for a different key. “I mean, this animatronic sat abandoned for thirty years; of course he’s gonna look a little rough around the edges.”

Your uncle finds the appropriate key and jiggles it inside the lock. “But just knowing that we, Fazbear Frights, have our hands on the one and only Spring Bonnie-.” He sighs proudly. “-It reminds me how much all of this was worth it, y’know? Now that he’s here, back in his element. Where he belongs.”

Your eyebrow lifts in curiosity; you resist the urge to laugh in your uncle’s face. “You do realize you sound just a little bit crazy, right?” you question him. “Talking about this thing like it’s a real person or something. Don’t tell me-.” You lean in, whispering. “-You talk to it sometimes, don’t you?”

Your uncle pauses before whispering back, “yeah, but, the only time I really feel crazy is when he responds…”

You giggle at that, watching while your uncle pulls the door open wide. “Here he is, (Y/N),” your uncle declares, beaming in the doorway. “The yellow rabbit himself. Spring Bonnie in the flesh-err, I mean, fur…”

For a moment, you assume you must be dreaming. Because you find yourself looking at the exact same rabbit from your dream this morning. He looks different, sat on the floor, leaning against the far wall; but it’s unmistakably him. Your uncle watches your expression, slightly confused. “Is he really that scary?” he asks, his voice hopeful.

You take a step forward, curiosity overriding your apprehension. The rabbit is large, just as large as he was in your dream. Even seated on the floor, you can tell his height is substantial. Tentatively, you reach for the rabbit’s face, stroking his musty-scented fur tenderly.

“D-be careful!” your uncle frets behind you, adding, “that thing was very expensive-be gentle with him-,” but his concerns aren’t necessary. You know this rabbit…intimately well. And once you’re alone with him again, you’ll make sure to take excellent care not to damage him in your…exertion…

“What did you say his name was?” you ask, gazing into the rabbit’s steely eyes. Your uncle clears his throat, obviously perplexed by the care you seem to feel for a decaying animatronic you had no interest in seeing only moments ago. “Uh, Bonnie,” he replies. “Spring Bonnie.”

“Bonnie,” you repeat, allowing the word to sink over your tongue. “That means beautiful, doesn’t it?”

Your uncle nods, still confused, and glances at his watch. “Well, it’s just about midnight,” he says. “Time for me to head out. Come walk me to the door, will ya?” He pretends to shiver. “This place gives even me the creeps at night, to be totally honest.”

You choose to leave the rabbit (for now). “I’ll be back,” you whisper against his ear, quietly enough that your uncle doesn’t hear. He’s waiting for you in the doorway, a warm smile on his face, your fascination with the yellow rabbit a fleeting curiosity to him, and nothing more. Once you’re sure your uncle is gone, you exhale a sigh of relief. Locking the door behind you feels like sealing the world away completely; and in contrast to yesterday, that kind of isolation is now exactly what you want. Your heart thuds against your chest like a horse’s hooves, skipping beats as you turn for the hall.

You’ve bunched your skirt around your waist, your shoes clicking loudly in the empty hall. Heavy rain pelts the tin roof as you round the corner that leads to him. In the doorway, a tall, familiar figure stands. His gray eyes flash cold as steel, locking you in place at the opposite end of the hallway.

Thunder growls outside. The building’s electricity spits in and out, crackling around you like fireflies caught in a jar. Your heart’s in your throat, lips spreading into a wide smile. The hall goes dark, lit only by the steely gaze of the yellow rabbit...

…until suddenly, even his eyes disappear, and you’re left engulfed by an all-consuming darkness.

Lightning flashes, illuminating the hand reaching for you. Robotic, aluminum fingers draped with rotting yellow fur close around your throat, silencing the scream beneath them. The rabbit lifts you by the throat till you’re completely suspended, feet dangling limp and useless beneath you. His sour breath reeks of rotten meat and dried blood, the kind of smell that instinctively alerts you to danger. Your eyes roll back, surrender sinking over you as you accept your fate.

But as quickly as he seized you, the rabbit yields. You feel the cold, filthy tile meet your cheek as you land against it. Through gauzy vision, you make out the metallic feet of the rabbit standing before you, his endoskeleton clearly visible. He takes hold of your hair, and tugs you upright, holding you in place as your trembling legs cannot sustain you. His eyes bore deeply into yours, chortled breath leaving his mechanical chest in a slow, grotesque pant. When he speaks, your whole body shivers.

“You…” the rabbit murmurs, his wide jaw cracking, fleshy tendons stretching. The curdled timbre of his voice betrays the smile on his lips; the rabbit is glad to see you.

“How…long…” he snarls. “…has it been…?” He drags a thick, soiled finger across your cheek, the gesture unexpectedly tender. “…Since anyone desired me…?”

Your chest is heaving, conflicting emotions of every kind overwhelming you. A sick cocktail of fear and arousal throbs in your belly, keeping time with your pounding heart.

“P-please,” you stutter, tears bleeding down your cheeks. “Don’t h-hurt me…”

The rabbit tilts his head to the side, thinking. His hooded eyes wash over you, this tiny little creature in his hands, pleading mercy from him.

“Mmm,” the rabbit hums, his skeletal chest vibrating like a lion’s purr. “You think I’m a monster, don’t you?”

You gasp as his touch glides from your face to your chest, his big paw closing over your breasts. He groans at the feeling of your heartbeat thundering against his palm. “I’d forgotten,” he says. “How a woman’s pulse feels…the proof of her life, beating in the palm of my hand…”

With his other paw, the rabbit clutches the back of your head and draws you closer. The stench of rot, of horror and decay, cannot repulse you anymore…not when his tongue has breached the barrier of your lips, the thick, sinewy muscle undulating against your tongue in a wet bed of perversion. His bulky fingers lodge between your thighs. Immediately, you begin to grind against the textured fur, wetting his mechanical digits with your arousal.

Seized by a sudden courage, you lift your hips in a way that has you poised atop one of the rabbit’s fingertips, his damp appendage resting against your entrance. He obliges your silent request, allowing you to sink over his thick finger, taking him as far as you can.

The thunder inside you eclipses the storm outside. You moan filthy, disgusting praises as he pleasures you, all sense of fear long-abandoned in exchange for the fulfillment of your most hedonistic desires. His fat, coarse digit strokes you like it was made for you to ride, reaching places inside you no part of any man ever has. You’re going dumb on top of him, so dumb you don’t even notice when the rabbit gently eases you onto the ground.

He’s under you now, his back pressed against the wall, his paw of a hand still clutching your cunt, letting you use his fingers to get yourself off. A dark, satisfied chuckle rumbles up from his bony chest. “Just look at you,” he murmurs, his steely eyes heavy with lust. “Bouncing on my lap like a slutty little rabbit, aren’t you?”

His lewd words and husky tone send you over the edge. Your body convulses on top of him, the muscles at your core clenching around the rabbit’s touch, sucking his fat appendage rhythmically as you ride out your high…

“Fucking Christ!” A man’s voice bleats through the hallway like a frightened animal. You whip your head to see him, blinded instantly by the beam of his flashlight. He’s wearing a shirt that identifies him as the theme park’s security, and as your eyes follow up to his face, you’re met with the wide-eyed gaze of unfiltered horror staring back at you. His flashlight shakes wildly in his hand, catching the rabbit’s skeletal leg in its beam. Confusion sets over you…followed by shame. Because the rabbit is now as he was when you arrived there tonight…sat against a wall, unmoving and limp, no more than a broken machine overcome by decay. But unlike earlier, you’re now sat straddling the broken machine, your cum dripping down its tattered fur…your hands locked around one of the animatronic’s arms, lodging his hand between your thighs…one of his fingers buried deep inside your cunt…

The guard clears his throat; you force yourself to meet his eyes. “Th-there was a c-.” He clears his throat again, blinking to focus. “-County-wide power outage, miss…I knew you were um, keepin’ watch over the place for your uncle, and uh-.” He swallows, forcing his eyes from dropping to the place where your body and the animatronic are joined. “-I th-thought you might be spooked in here, alone-.” He glances at the rabbit, then back to you. “-in the dark…”

Frustrated tears burn at the corners of your eyes, your cheeks hot with humiliation. Carefully, you ease the rabbit’s finger out of your cunt, wincing as the metal scratches your skin. Somehow, it didn’t hurt before. You smooth your skirt down, concealing your nakedness but none of your shame.

Standing in the beam of the guard’s flashlight, you summon every bit of the (minimal) pride you have left to tell him, “thank you. That was very kind of you, to come check on me.”

He licks his lips nervously, eyes darting between you and the animatronic propped against the wall. His flashlight illuminates the perverse scene, revealing your cum still glistening on the rabbit’s fur. The fear in the guard’s expression has softened to a pitying disgust.

“I think it’s time for you to go home, miss,” he says. You wipe a tear from your cheek, glancing back at the animatronic one last time, before leaving Fazbear Frights (and your rabbit) behind, forever…

[foxcantswim]

I may be gay af for Vanessa but hear me out-

[ruh--roh-raggy]

This (William Afton x Fem! Reader SMUT)

Hello! Wow, I can honestly say I wasn't expecting that big of a response on my first fic so thank all of you so much!! I've got brain rot real bad about this man, so expect a lot of fics for him. Now, onto the fun part. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! ADULT CONTENT AHEAD, 18+ FIC AHEAD, MDNI, age gap (reader is in college, William is in his 40's/50's), jealous William, hinted that he killed your terrible coworker if you squint, thigh riding, unprotected sex, pnv sex, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, some spanking but it's nothing too intense, size difference (I just love me a big man what can I say?), cock warming, Reader is 5'0/152cm because that's how tall I am, whoops) dom William, slight degradation, definite praise, pining, domestic!William, OOC William, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, use of pet names sweetheart, honey, pretty little thing, bunny (I think that's everything, please let me know if I forgot any tags!)

Word count: 8,058

You can find my Masterlist here!

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You tapped softly on your boss’s half open door. You heard him finish up a phone call, the receiver clicking as he hung up. “Come on in.” He calls cheerfully. You push open the door, his gaze softening as it landed on you.

“Mr. Afton, can I talk to you really quick?” You ask nervously, anxiously tracing over the cold brass doorknob with your finger.

“Of course you can. Shut the door, come on in.” You do as he says, you swallow thickly as the door clicks shut behind you. You sat in one of the stiff pizzaria chairs he had at his desk, the once vibrant clumps of geometric shapes beginning to fade with age. “What can I do for you sweetheart?” He folds his hands in front of him as he shoots you a small smile. You always found yourself growing flustered under his gaze, your eyes darted to the nameplate that sat on his desk, tracing over the neat gold letters as you tried to steady your pounding heart.

“I was just wondering if you could stop scheduling me with Kyle?” You mutter, cursing internally at how stupid your request sounded.

“What happened? He didn't hurt you, did he?” The sudden flash of anger in his voice was unmistakable.

“No, nothing like that. It just feels like he always goes out of his way to give me the worst jobs. A kid throws up in the ball pit, I have to clean it up. A parent gets too drunk and trashes a table, I'm the one on my hands and knees making sure there's no fragments of glass still stuck in the carpet. I know this probably sounds ridiculous, I'm not trying to start problems-”

“(Y/N).” His gentle tone makes you freeze. Your eyes drift up to meet his. He reaches across his desk, holding his hand out for you. You tentatively slip your hand into his, your breath shaky as you watch him trail his thumb over your knuckles. His skin was so warm, you looked so small and delicate compared to him. “I'll deal with Kyle, okay? You're too pretty to be doing those jobs anyways.” You can't help but blush as he winks at you. He stands up, his height allowing him to tower over you as he walks you to the door, his hand on the small of your back. “Have a good night sweetheart, I'll see you tomorrow.” He smiles down at you.

“Goodnight, Mr. Afton.” You smile coyly at him as you turn to leave. He leans against the door way, his arms crossing over his chest as he scans over the pizzeria.

“Kyle!” He barks. “Come see me at the end of your shift bud, we need to have a little chat.” You couldn't keep the smile off your face as you pushed out of the building.

When you came back the next day you expected to see Kyle seething with rage over whatever punishment Mr. Afton had dished out, but he was nowhere to be found. You wandered back towards your boss’ office, wanting to let him know you had arrived to start opening. “There's my favorite girl.” He grins as you poke your head through the doorway. “Come sit, I took care of opening prep, you relax.” He nods in the direction of one of the chairs across from him. He never takes his eyes off of you as you sit rigidly in the seat. “You look tired, would you like some coffee?”

“Oh, you don't have to trouble yourself.” He attempts to wave you off, both of your actions cut short by the sound of your stomach rumbling. “Excuse me.” You look away awkwardly.

“I guess something a little more substantial than coffee is in order here.” He stands, motioning for you to follow him. You trail behind him as he leads you into the kitchen, the smell of the greasy premade pepperoni pizza baking in the oven practically making your mouth water. He grabs the wooden peel, expertly flicking the pizza onto it and retrieving it from the industrial sized oven. “So you haven't eaten and you look exhausted.” You cringed slightly as you waited for him to chastise you, knowing how bad it looked that you weren't showing up to your job with your best foot forward. He sets the pizza on a metal tray, leaving it to cool as his focus directs itself onto you. He takes a few long, agonizingly slow strides towards you. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?” You found yourself immediately growing flustered at the sound of the familiar pet name. Mr. Afton had been using the endearment since you had started, yet hearing it roll so effortlessly off of his tongue never failed to make your cheeks grow warm and arousal to pool between your legs.

“Yeah, it's stupid.” You try to brush your earlier problems of the day away, not wanting to bring attention to what you believed would come off as a childish reason to be upset. Seeing the concerned looks in your boss’ eyes prompted you to continue. “I got into a fight with my roommate today and I ran out of time to eat because we were arguing. I'm sorry-”

“Sweetheart, you don't have to apologize.” A shiver ran down your spine at the sound of his voice. “I'm worried, not upset.” His shoes enter your line of sight, which was currently trained on the floor, as he steps in front of you. A set of warm fingers ghost over the skin of your cheek, pushing back a stray tendril of hair that had fallen out of your messy attempt at tying it back. You slowly meet his hazy green eyes, a patient smile adorning his lips as he waits for his words to settle. You gave him a small nod in response. You walk out onto the main floor of the pizzeria, the eyes of the four life sized animatronics seeming to follow your every move. Although you had grown used to the sight of the vibrantly colored animals, there was something about them that still unnerved you. “Who's your favorite?” You jump slightly when Mr. Afton suddenly speaks up. You breathe out a laugh as you turn to face him.

“Bonnie,” his face lights up at your immediate answer, “I've always liked rabbits.” You join him in the small booth, he eyes you carefully as he serves you a piece of pizza on a napkin. “Thank you for the pizza, Mr. Afton.”

“William.” He corrects with a small smile. “There's no need to be so stiff outside of work hours, doll.”

You can't help but giggle at his playful tone. “Well, thank you for the pizza, William.” He straightens up slightly at the sound of you saying his name. You were honestly a bit surprised to say that you were having a good time. William was charismatic, funny, a little awkward but in a way that came off as endearing. You stood side by side with him in the kitchen, working in tandem to clean up the dishes you made from your impromptu lunch date. You kept finding your eyes drifting over to him, the sight of his sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, his muscular forearms flexing as he twisted a rag inside of a cup. You swallowed thickly, quickly tearing your eyes away from him and back to the metal pizza pan.

“Right behind you, sweetheart.” William groans as he reaches around you to grab a dry rag. Your heart pounded in your chest as he leaned into you. You feel his arm brush against your back and you dared to look over at him considering that you might never get the chance to be so close to him again, your little secret crush on your boss refused to let you miss that opportunity. You let out a small, startled squeak as you found him already looking at you. Everything about him seemed to only drag you in deeper as you got caught up in his gaze. The deep, musky smell of his cologne, his mossy green eyes holding you firmly in place. His arm wraps around your waist, your hands flying to his chest as he pulls you into him, his lips crashing against yours. It took a moment for your mind to catch up with what was happening to your body. Your eyes fluttered shut, the warmth of being pressed tightly to him seeping into you as you let yourself give in to what you truly wanted. Your hands slid over the soft fabric of his shirt, your fingers just barely grazing over his collar to pull him closer when the main door to the pizzeria slammed open and the excited voices of your coworkers filed in. You startled apart, Williams eyes immediately averting to the floor as a look of shame rapidly spreads across his features. He mutters out a hurried apology as he pushes past you, through the kitchen doors, and directly into his office. You saw your friend Ashley jump as the door slammed behind him, eventually seeing you standing alone in the kitchen as your face dropped into your hands. You had no reason to be but you felt embarrassed. Your whole face burned as the moment replayed itself over and over in your head.

“What the hell was all of that?” Ashley exclaims in a hushed tone as she enters the kitchen.

“Nothing!” You turn to the sink, pretending to wash your hands as an excuse to not have to look at her. “Mr. Afton had an important call to take.” She eyes you curiously, knowing you weren't being honest with her. You felt sweat begin to bead at your temple under her scrutinizing gaze.

“Fine, keep your secrets.” She huffs playfully as she crosses her arms over her chest. She quickly closes the gap in between you, “but if you're fucking the boss and you're not telling me I'm going to be so mad.” You knew it was a joke but you were still a bit on edge from the earlier ordeal.

“Keep your voice down!” You snap, quickly looking over at his office door to see that it was, thankfully, still shut. She gasps, your nervous body language giving you away.

“Tell me everything.” She grabs you by the shoulders, forcing your attention back on her. “Is he good? Is he… y'know?” Her eyes flashing down to your crotch and back up. “Is he big?”

“Ashley!” You attempt to shush her again. “I'm not sleeping with Will-Mr. Afton.” You hurried to try and correct yourself, but your little slip up only added more fuel to the fire.

“Were you about to call him William?” She grills you, a wide, excited smile taking over her face. “Do you guys have pet names for each other? I hear him call you sweetheart all the time but I thought that was just because you're his favor-” You clamp a hand over her mouth, it was the only way you could think of to get her quiet.

“Just hang on,” you wait to see if she was actually done talking before pulling your hand away. “I came in early to open. I was supposed to be working with Kyle but he never showed. I think Mr. Afton might have fired him.”

“Did you finally go talk to him about that creep?” She asks as she leans up against the counter. You nod in response, “good, he was making your life a living hell here. Continue…” she prompts with a wave of her hand.

“I walk over to his office just to let him know that I'm here and he tells me that everything's already done-that’s not the important part.” You took a deep breath to steady yourself before telling her what had gotten you so frazzled. “He was helping me clean some dishes and he reached around me for the towel, so what was I supposed to do? Not look?” Ashley chuckles, being the one person who knew about your crush she understood how impossible that would have been for you. “I looked over at him and he was already looking at me and then he kissed me and then you guys came in-”

“Hold on. Pause.” She holds up her hands to get you to halt your recap. “He kissed you?” You nod, but before you had time to continue one of your coworkers kicked open the double doors to the kitchen.

“Alright ladies, I hate to interrupt, but I got some pizza to make.” He groans through his forced smile.

“We’ll talk about this later.” She whispers hurriedly as she ties her apron around her waist. You nod, copying her motions as you prepare to open for the day. Throughout your shift you kept thinking about the kiss. Did it mean something or was it just an impulse? Did William somehow know about your crush on him? You stood at the side of the pizzeria, unable to keep the smile off of your face as you watched him take a picture with an excited child. You found your mind wandering again, the delighted scream, pings, and whirrs of the room around you seemed to almost fade away. You could still feel his arm wrapped around your waist, how strong his broad chest was under the palms of your hands. You snapped yourself from your daydream, the glowing white eyes of the Spring Bonnie suit studying you carefully. You straightened up, hurrying off to the kitchen so you wouldn't be seen slacking. By the end of the night you had just about driven yourself crazy with questions. Questions you were determined to get answers to. You said goodbye to your coworkers, promising Ashley that you would catch her up when you were able to. You walk up to your boss’ door, a determined look etched into your features. You raised your fist, freezing just before knocking. Why was this so hard? He kissed you! If anything you should be furious! He had completely ambushed you out of nowhere and you had spent the whole day walking around in a fog because of it. But, part of you was worried about what his answer might be. It was easy to hide your feelings from him up until now; glances that lasted a little too long, walking a little too close to him so your fingers could brush his, it could all be passed off as if it were nothing. Now, you were standing in front of his door ready to charge in there to demand an explanation for the kiss not because you were upset with him… but because you were hopeful about what the implications of what that kiss could mean. Before you had the chance to decide for yourself what you were going to do the door opened. William froze at the sight of you standing on the other side. He sighs, raking a hand through his already messy hair.

“(Y/N), I'm sorry about earlier, I don't know what came over me.” Your heart cracked slightly at his apology. So, it really was just an impulse. “Can we… Can we talk about this? I think it might be better for both of us to get it all out in the open.” You were struggling to fight against the tears blurring your vision.

“I think I'm just going to go home, Mr. Afton.” You grimaced at the sound of your voice shaking.

“Sweetheart, I can't let you drive like that.” He carefully wipes away a tear that had slipped onto your cheek. Your lip quivered at the sound of his pet name for you, a soft sob breaking free from your chest as you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. William quickly pulls you into his arms, letting you hide against him. “That's it, let it out.” He says as he soothingly rubs your back. Your arms finally slid around his torso, he rocked you back and forth slightly as he waited for you to calm down. You sniffle as you pull back from him, his warm hand cupping your cheek. “You're even pretty when you cry.” He muses. Your cheeks flushed at the compliment. You allow him to wipe away any remaining trails of tears, realizing after avoiding each other all day that you missed being close to him.

“William,” your voice was a hoarse croak as you spoke. You place a hand over the one he has resting on your cheek. “I want to kiss you again… please.” His eyes widened slightly at the request. But, once he let your words sink in, he wasted no time granting your request. You stumbled back slightly as he kissed you passionately. You grab onto his collar, keeping him flush against you as you reveled in the sensation. One of his hands slaps haphazardly against the doorway as he guides the two of you inside, roughly kicking the door shut before slamming your back against it. He takes your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head in one swift movement. You whimpered softly as he pulled away from you, despite your desperate need to breathe you felt like you would die without his lips on yours. You had to look almost straight up in order to meet his eyes, a wild and hungry look dominating his gaze. He breathes out a chuckle at the sight of you, the look you gave him so full of need it nearly brought him to his knees.

“Such a pretty little thing you are, sweetheart.” He slowly swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, the flesh tender and swollen for the one mind numbing kiss he had granted you. “I can't tell you how long I've wanted you.” You whine as you feel his leg push in between your own. You were forced up onto your toes, struggling to contain the soft moan that bubbles up in your throat at the delicious pressure against your clit.

“Enlighten me.” You challenge, earning a deep, rumbling laugh from him.

“Surely, you must've known.” His head dips into the crook of your neck, biting you hard enough that you knew he would leave a mark behind. “I see you everyday; the way those tight little jeans mold to your ass, how your shirt is always pulled down just low enough to tease me…” you see the briefest look of jealousy flash through his eyes. “How those immature, snotty little college boys are constantly throwing themselves at you.” He pushes into you, his lips staying just out of reach as he keeps you pinned in place. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, he smirked as he felt you squirming against his thigh. “What's the matter sweetheart?” He asks sardonically. You were having trouble thinking straight. Every time you let your full weight sink into him it only made you need his touch more, his hot breath fanning over your lips made your whole body ache for him. “I think you know that no one could take care of you like I could, don't you?” You nod in response, your breathing growing noticeably quicker as he questioned you. His forehead comes to rest against yours, his dull green eyes searching your features for any sign of hesitation. “Well then how about I give you a night you'll never forget?” He smiles sharply at you.

In one sweep of his arm his entire desk is cleared off. Paperclips scatter across the floor alongside papers and whatever other trinkets decorated the wood surface. He grabs your hips and pulls you roughly to him, his lips ferociously meeting yours in a kiss that knocked all the air from your lungs. Your initial fight for dominance over the kiss was very short lived. If anything, William found your defiance rather cute. He growls against your lips, a sound that has your knees threatening to buckle. His hands slide from your hips down to your ass, groaning as he gives it a firm squeeze. You squeak as he easily lifts you from the floor, guiding your legs around his waist as he sets you on his desk. He fumbles blindly with the button of your jeans, eventually being able to start working then down your legs. “I can't wait to fucking ruin you.” He presses a hand flat against your chest, pushing you back onto his desk. You struggle not to blush, turning away from him so he hopefully wouldn't notice. Your fingernails dig into wood as he teases at your entrance with his fingers. “Such a cute little bunny.” He smirks. “Already so wet for me and I haven't even touched you yet.” He takes your chin between his fingers, turning you to look at him. “Look at me sweetheart, I wanna see those pretty eyes when I fuck you senseless.” His hand dips under the hem of your shirt, his large, warm hand roaming your bare torso as you lay compliantly before him. He roughly grabs your jaw, watching your expression carefully as he eases his fingers into you at an agonizingly slow pace. A strangled gasp breaks free from your throat as his digits bottom out in you, your gummy walls clenching around them.

He chuckles as you roll your hips, searching desperately for any type of relief. He begins to rock his fingers inside of you in time with your movements, taking his time to fully stretch you out in preparation for what was to come. As he gradually increased his pace the louder your moans became. You gripped tightly onto the arm that had moved from your jaw to the desk next to your head, your nails digging little crescent divots into his skin. “You look so fucking pretty like this.” He looks over you, drinking in the way your body writhed from his touch.

“William.” You whimper his name.

“What is it, bunny?” He coos. “What does my needy girl want, hm?”

“Want… want to touch you.” Your words came out slurred as you fought through your moans and the mind numbing pleasure he was inflicting on you.

He tuts at your demand, giving you a disappointed pout. “Poor thing, you want to touch me?” You nod furiously. He fingers thread into your hair, giving the strands a rough tug to ensure that your eyes are on his. “Ask nicely and maybe I'll let you.”

“Please.” Your wide innocent eyes pricked with tears as you gazed up at him longingly. He hummed, pondering over your pathetic state as he continued to slowly rock his fingers inside of you. “William, please, please let me touch you. I want… I need you.” Your begging came cracking out in a sob, tears sliding down your face as you grew more desperate to get your hands on him. William chuckles at the sight of you.

“Such a needy little thing” He smirks. He lets the request hang in the air for a moment, the only sound filling the room was the squelching of your arousal in his hand as he fingered you. His lips land on your pulse, causing you to shiver. He takes your wrist in his massive hand, guiding it to the top button of his dress shirt, giving you permission to start undressing him. Your fingers shook as you worked at the fastenings, Williams pace never slowing making it difficult for you to focus on the task at hand. Your struggling was going to be well rewarded. Once you had undone the final button on his shirt, William grabbed you roughly by the collar, hauling you to a sitting position so you were now sitting face to face with him. You whined at the sudden emptiness of him removing his fingers, but your annoyance was short lived. You pushed the dress shirt from his shoulders, William making quick work of discarding his undershirt into an empty chair in the room. You just about drooled at the sight of him. His broad shoulders and strong arms from years of working on machines in his shop flexed and shifted under the dim office lighting. You couldn't tear your eyes off of him as he started loosening his belt. You blush as he chuckles, realizing you had been caught staring. “Like something you see, sweetheart?” He asks in an amused tone. He prowls over to you, the buckle of his belt jangling as it hangs limply as his side, his pants falling low on his hips.

You bite your lip, reaching out for him once he’s close enough. You wrap your legs around his waist, fingers threading into his hair as his lips crash into yours. You run a hand over his chest, the thick carpet of coarse hair tickling your palm. In one swift movement your shirt is pushed over your head, your breasts bouncing slightly as they fall back into place after the disruption. William admired the soft lace that complimented your skin. His hands slide over your waist and up your back until he reaches the clasp of your bra. He fumbles with it a few times until the tension of the elastic finally relaxes. He takes his time removing your final article of clothing. The straps are eased off your shoulders one at a time, his beard ticking your bare skin as he places delicate kisses anywhere he could reach. Goosebumps spread across your chest as the fabric is finally fully removed, William’s eyes drifting down to get a full view of your perfect form. He lets out a primal growl at the sight before his lips latch into yours again. His fingers dig into your hips, dragging you to the very edge of his desk in order to line his cock up with your entrance. You moan into his mouth as he sheathes himself full inside you in one hard thrust. Your breath comes out in long, shaky exhales as you struggle to adjust to his size. Even with the prep from his fingers he still stretches you to a point that makes you feel like you're about to rip in half. William was a lot bigger and thicker than any guy you had been with previously. You already felt drunk just from the sensation of him bottoming out in you. “Eyes on me, bunny.” He whispers in a gentle tone. Your eyes flutter open, you hadn't realized you had even shut them to begin with, meeting his hazy green ones. You cry out as he gives you a single sharp thrust, a mixture of pain and pleasure burning white hot through your body as you struggle to take all of him. He lets out a satisfied hum as he studies your fucked out expression. “Already cock drunk, hm?” He chuckles, resting his forehead against yours to keep your attention on him. With every snap of his hips it brought you closer and closer to your climax, your moans impossibly loud in the small, cramped office. “You wanted this all along, didn't you sweetheart? You knew those stupid little boys could never make you feel like this.” He snarls. “Now, here you are, about to cum on my cock.” Drool had started to leak out of the corner of your mouth as you struggled to keep your eyes on his. He dips a hand between your legs, rubbing fast circles on your clit.

“William!” You moan out his name, his free arm wrapping securely around you to hold you tightly against him.

“Such a dirty girl, fucking someone nearly twice your age.” He chuckles cruelly, his eyes darken as they meet yours through your haze. “Pathetic.” Degrading you like that seemed to unleash something primal in him. His thrusts somehow managed to get faster and more brutal. You screamed as your orgasm ripped through you, desperately crying out his name as you clawed against his back. His hands wrap under your thighs, lifting you from the desk slightly in order to get better leverage. “Fuck.” He groans, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he approaches his end. He kisses you hard as he finishes, hot ropes of his cum coating your walls. You both stayed locked in your embrace for a moment, waiting for your breathing to calm down. You wince as he pulls out of you, a slight sting as your absurd cunt attempts to clamp around nothing. He looks around the room for something to clean you up with, deciding on his shirt when nothing else seemed plausible. He gingerly reaches in between your legs, a softness and hesitancy you didn't expect after the evenings most recent events. You let out a soft hiss at the slight bit of pain you felt as he cleaned you up. He soothingly caresses your thigh with his free hands, shooting you an apologetic look from his position situated in between your legs. You studied him for a moment, his gaze distant, and hazy as it trailed to the floor.

“William.” Your soft voice drifted over his ears, bringing his attention back to you. You adjusted your position so you could sit up. “Come here.” He stands, even sitting on his desk he still towered over you. You wrapped your arms around him, resting your chin on his soft stomach. You trail your hands over his back, his skin slightly sticky with sweat.

“I’m sorry if I took things too far-”

“You didn’t.” His gruff voice was cut off with your quiet reassurance. “You were amazing.” You give him a coy smile before pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. A small smile breaks out on his face as he chuckles at your glimmering expression.

“Come on bunny, let’s get you dressed.” He combs his fingers through your hair, “although I will never get tired of looking at your beautiful body.” He winks causing you to blush, you lightly slap his chest. He places a kiss on your forehead before collecting your clothes. You feel eyes on you as you’re getting dressed, you can’t help but smirk when you look over your shoulder so see William staring at your ass. You make a show of stepping into your panties, adjusting them so they are perfectly in place before shimmying into your jeans. William was practically drooling as he watched your supple flesh jiggle as you worked yourself into the tight clothing. You place one final kiss to his burly chest before he slips his undershirt back over his head. He trails a finger over your jaw. “I was hoping we could make this a more than one time thing… Maybe I can take you out to dinner after work some night?” He asks with a charming, lopsided smile.

“I’d really like that William.” You push yourself up on your toes, having him meet you halfway to place a chaste kiss to your lips. “Goodnight.” You whisper with a smile.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He breathes out a laugh as you both slowly pull away. You grab your jacket and bag from the employee locker room, giving William one small wave as you pass by his office on your way out. You fell into your driver seat with a groan, sticking your keys in the ignition, your heart still pounding in your chest. You turned the key expecting your engine to rumble to life, but your car refused to start. You tried again and again, falling against the steering wheel with an aggravated sigh. You kicked open the door and trudged back inside. William gave you a confused look as you walked back up to his door. “Everything alright?”

You grew embarrassed over the fact you had to ask. You never had anyone who was able to teach you about cars, you wouldn’t know the first thing about trying to find the problem yourself. “My car won’t start. I hate to ask, but could you come look at it?”

“Of course, honey. I’ll take care of it.” Your heart flutters in your chest at him taking charge of the situation. You definitely could get used to having him around, there was something about his unwavering confidence that made you long for him even more. You follow him back outside, watching him carefully as he examines your engine, a massive black flashlight held tightly in his hand. “I see the problem.” He groans as he reaches to point something out to you. “You need a new timing belt.” He points out the problem, excitedly going through the mechanics as you listened attentively. “You can leave your car here, I’ll pick you up a new one tomorrow.” He stuffs his hand in his pocket. He twirls his keys around his pointer finger. “Let me just go lock the door and I’ll drive you home.” You nod, growing giddy over the fact you would get to spend more time with him. He wraps his arm around your shoulders as he leads you around back to his car. You slide stiffly into his passenger seat. The inside of his car was pristine, some vintage model muscle car you didn’t know the name of. William’s hand envelops your thigh as he drives, ever so often giving the soft skin a gentle squeeze as you direct him to your off campus apartment. You lived in the not so great part of town, even outside of Hurricane standards. Shootings, stabbings, human trafficking, all of it had happened somewhere in your neighborhood. You noticed William’s expression grow more concerned as you drove. You eventually pulled up in front of your building, a rickety looking triple decker that looked like it would collapse from a slightly too strong gust of wind.

“Well this is me.” You state softly with a slight shrug of your shoulders. William sighed as he stared up at your building.

“You live here by yourself?” He glances at you in the passenger seat as he asks. You nod in response. “Bunny, would you like to come spend the night at my house. It’s dangerous for a girl like you to be by herself out here.”

“Spend the night with you?” You repeat his request back to him, he nods slowly, worried he crossed a line. “If you’re offering, I'm definitely not going to say no.” You lean across the cab of the car, pressing a kiss to his cheek. The drive back to his house was spent mostly in silence, every so often his hand would drift from your thigh to bringing your knuckles to his lips. You left the main part of town, the houses you passed becoming few and far between as the sides of the road were taken over by tall fir trees. You pulled up in front of a cozy looking house, the outside paint faded from years of abuse from the harsh Utah weather.

“Home sweet home.” Me mumbles with a lopsided grin. You trail closely behind him as you walk up to the door, jumping at every snapping twig and animal scurrying through the brush. “There’s nothing to be scared of sweetheart, I’ll keep you safe.” He smiles down at you, keeping you tucked into his side as he unlocks the door. He gently nudges you inside first, following closely behind you. The second the door clicks shut William’s lips are on yours again, a flustered sigh escaping you as you melted into him. “I’m going to get dinner started.” He mumbles against your lips.

“Would you like some help?” He nods, motioning for you to follow him to the kitchen.

“I would love some.” He grins at you. The two of you worked side by side to prepare dinner, every so often you would catch William stealing glances at you out of the corner of your eye. “Honey.” He suddenly speaks up, you turn to face him only for him to pull you into a kiss. “You just sit here and look pretty, I’ll finish this up.” His large hands wrap around your waist, he lifts you from the floor and sets you on the counter with ease. He hums as he works beside you, easily recreating his recipe from memory. Always keeping you on your toes, he was making homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese. He takes quick pauses, caging you in between his arms on the counter as he gives you rushed kisses that leave your head spinning. He holds out his hand for you, a gesture you gladly accept. He helps you down from the counter, balancing your plates and bowls on his arm. You sit across from each other at the small dining room table. “So what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a shit hole like this?” He asks with a chuckle.

“Unfortunately this shit hole has one of the best colleges in the state.” You respond with a laugh of your own.

“What’s your major?”

“Mechanical engineering.” You respond the moment he finishes his question. He looked very perplexed by your answer.

“What made you want to take that up?” He leaned forward, completely focused on you alone.

“Well, honestly, you did.” You blush a bit as you respond. “The animatronics you make are phenomenal. I hope one day I can be half as talented as you are.” He looks away bashfully, not used to such direct flattery.

“Maybe I can have you help out in the workshop sometime.” He offers with an excited glint in his eyes.

“If it means spending more time with you I would love to.” You shoot him a flirtatious smile. You find yourselves drifting closer together as you clean up after dinner. You gathered up your plates, standing on your toes to try and put them in the cabinet with the rest. You let out a frustrated sigh as you struggled to reach. The warmth of William’s body pressing into yours from behind made you freeze.

“I got it sweetheart.” He chuckles, taking the plates from your hands. “Such a cute little thing you are.” He whispers next to your ear making you shiver. You squeal as he lifts you from the floor, taking you in his arms as he carries you upstairs. He tosses you onto the bed, stripping out of his clothes with a groan, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. You can’t help but smirk slightly as you grab him by the wrist and pull him in to kiss you. “Strip, I wanna hold you.” He commands. You decide to give him a little show, taking your time to peel out of your jeans, swaying your hips as you pull your top over your head. You stripped out of your lingerie before straddling his lap. His hands knead your ass, rocking you gently against the already half hard erection in his boxers. He pulls you into bed, shutting off the lights before joining you himself. He slings an arm over your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. You bite your lip, shifting your hips as you feel his cock press into your back. The moon cast in through the window, basking the room in a dull silver glow. You hear William’s breath catch in his throat as you press your ass into his throbbing member. “Someone’s needy.” He chuckles, his breath hot against his ear. “What’s the matter bunny, need me to fill you up?” You nod, letting out a soft whine as you push back into him again. He places a kiss just below your ear, spreading your legs with his hand as he lines himself up with your entrance. You let out a broken moan as he slowly pushed inside of you.

“Holy fuck.” You gasp, your fingers digging into his forearm as you grab him tightly as your walls stretch painfully around him. “Wow.” Your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled back in your head. His fingers slid around your throat, putting a delicious pressure on your neck.

“Such a good bunny, taking me so well.” His meticulous hand placement was starting to make you feel light headed, the mixture of the sensation and his praise making you dizzy with dopamine. You moan as he rolls his hips slightly. “You feel so good squeezing around my cock.” He purrs before placing a kiss on your cheek. You squirmed and whined as you lay there, impaled on his throbbing cock. William groaned at how wet you were, he could feel your juices dripping down the base of him. “So pretty sweetheart.” He coos, chuckling at your desperate state. His arm tightens around you, rolling his hips and causing you to cry out. You cursed as he pushed impossibly deep inside of you, your body moving instinctually as you bounced on his cock. He groans, his hips snapping up to meet yours. Your moans grew louder and more fervent with every thrust, his tip kissing the perfect spot inside of you everytime. Your thighs started to shake as you felt your climax creeping up on you. “Are you going to cum for me sweetheart?” He asks in a sweet voice. You nod, biting your lip to try and muffle your moans. You yelp as he suddenly delivers a sharp slap to your ass. “I want to hear you bunny.” He growls in your ear.

“Yes sir.” You gasp, letting your moans fall freely from your mouth. You let out a high pitched whine as your orgasm hung joust out of reach. You moan out his name, he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, making you cry out in pleasure. He reaches a hand in between your legs and swipes his fingers over your clit.

“So good for me.” He praises you. He wraps his hands around your waist, helping you fuck yourself faster on his cock. You scream his name as your orgasm rips through you, sobbing as he fucks you through your climax. Your whole body shook, your hand gripping weakly onto his wrist. “I got you sweetheart.” He whispers, settling himself deeply inside of you. Your eyelids felt heavy as you nestled into his soft pillows. He pulls the comforter up around your shoulders. You smiled at the scent of his musky cologne. Every small shift from him made you whine, after letting you rest for a while he began to rock his hips again. Small gasps and sighs falling from your lips as he tenderly fucks into you. “I’m gonna fill you up.” He groans, his thrusts growing uneven and stuttering every so often.

“Please.” You moan softly. Hearing your soft voice only seemed to spur him on. His slow deep thrusts had both of you moaning. You held on tightly to William’s arms, wanting to be pressed as close to him as possible. He groans your name as he finishes, his hips stuttering as he pushes as deep inside of you as he can manage. He places soft kisses to the nape of your neck as he pulls you into his chest. You found yourself easily drifting off in his arms, before you knew it you had drifted off into a dreamless sleep. When you woke up you rolled over, cuddling into his warm back. You placed a soft kiss to a couple of the faded scars on his shoulder.

“Well good morning sweetheart.” He hums as he rolls over and pulls you into his chest. “You wanna stay in bed while I get breakfast started?” His voice raspy and deeper than normal as he fought off the thickness of sleep.

“Can you stay in bed just a little longer.” You put, nuzzling your face into his neck.

“Sure, anything for you sweetheart.” He says with a smile and a kiss to your forehead. You laid on top of his chest, your fingers trailing through his chest hair as you talked about the plan for the day. He places a soft kiss to your lips as he slides out from underneath you to go get dressed. You cuddle up into the blankets, watching the muscles in his back flex as he gets dressed. A little while later he returned with a tray full of food, setting it in between the two of you. The two of you chatted pleasantly over breakfast, William consistently making you smile and laugh. “I’m going to head out to the garage, take your time getting ready, I’ll be out there when you’re done.” You grab him by the collar, keeping his lips on yours for a little longer than normal. He shoots you a wink as he slips out of the bedroom. You took your time getting ready, slipping into one of his shirts, the oversized clothing falling half way down your thighs. You washed your face and fixed your hair before wandering downstairs to find William. You heard the sound of powertools and pushed through the door. William stood with a welding mask on, his shirt discarded over a nearby chair. His skin, completely drenched in sweat, glowed in the dim overhead lighting. Streaks of grease dragged down his neck and across his stomach from where he had rubbed his hands across his skin. He flips his mask off when he notices you entered his workshop. “Hey bunny.” He grins. You saunter over to him to look over his expert work.

“You really are incredible, William.” He runs his fingers through his hair as he clears his throat, a noticeable blush on his face. You stood by him, allowing him to walk you through his process, an arm wrapped around your waist as he kept you tucked safely against him.He cursed as he looked up and noticed the time.

“We’re gonna be late.” He takes your hand, leading you inside. He pulls you into a heated kiss as he helps you out of your borrowed clothes. He picks you up and carries you into the shower. You yelped and giggled as your back pressed into the frigid wall. William carefully lets down your hair before allowing you to wet it. You sigh as he works shampoo into your hair, gently massaging your scalp. You couldn’t help but stare as you watched the soapy water run down his body. He wraps you up in a fluffy towel, retrieving your work clothes as you dried off. You both ran to his car, laughing as you fell into the front seats. “I’ll run out and grab the timing belt for your car after I check in on Freddy’s.” He promises. You nod, a bit sad that your stay with him was over so quickly. You fall into him as he turns sharply into the parking lot. He tilts your chin up with a finger, a softness in his eyes as he studies your features. His eyes flash down to the dark bruises and bitemarks that littered your neck. “Are you, um… are you okay with people knowing about this?” He asks with a slight wavering in his voice.

“This?” You ask with a coy smile as you raise your eyebrow at him.

“Us.” He blurts out before swallowing thickly. You lean in ,placing a soft kiss against his lips.

“Only if you are.” He breathes out a soft laugh, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He walks around to your side of the car as you’re gathering your things, opening your door for you. You thank him softly as he helps you out. You link your arm through his, leaning your head on his shoulder. He holds the door open for you, wrapping his arm around your waist before pressing his lips to yours in one long, loving kiss.

“I’ll see you after work, bunny.” He winks before slipping off to his office. You smile as you watch him head out, adjusting his tie and greeting customers as he passes by. You turn to look out over the pizzeria, meeting Ashley’s shocked expression. She speed walks over to you, her eyes immediately falling to your abused neck.

“What happened to catching me up?” She yell whispers at you.

“Things might have gotten a little more serious than just a kiss.” You admit awkwardly.

“Well no shit, look at the hickey’s he gave you.” You smile as you catch his gaze from his position seated at his desk.

“He wants to make sure everyone knows I’m his.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @redflowery (I think that's everyone, if you'd like to be added to the tag list or I forgot you please let me know!!)

[minhees55]

:D

[lostboysmate4ever]

Where is all of the fanfics of this guy of movie William Afton?! I need them! 🥺 Just look at his smile!

[icyfell]

Happy FNAF Eve, all <333

Full picture below the line!! NSFT WARNING!!!

[zanewalker13]

Game!William Afton/Springtrap Fic Suggestions

https://www.tumblr.com/strangererotica/757733173630255104/explicit-content-minors-dni-springtrap-x-reader?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/kining-the-evil/732951975935787008/could-u-do-a-fnaf3-william-afton-with-an-age?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/sw33t-d1vine/763461722903314432/greetings-and-salutations-may-request-headcanons?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/fandomwritingbit/737319807822741504/yo-can-i-get-a-gnmalenightguard-reader-x?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/alexthesillybilly/747785111855136768/infatuation?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/cinnamonroll-anon/751801287163658240/hello-if-its-okay-to-request-could-you-do?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/oftenwantedafton/775506356257079296/and-then-there-was-us-william-afton-x

https://www.tumblr.com/oftenwantedafton/768241904610656256/moody-and-gray-william-afton-x-freader-you

https://www.tumblr.com/oftenwantedafton/768695356194177024/forgotten-william-afton-x-freader-he-recognizes

https://www.tumblr.com/oftenwantedafton/768695349595586560/begin-again-springtrap-x-freader-for-a-moment

https://www.tumblr.com/oftenwantedafton/768457184703021056/pas-de-deux-william-afton-x-freader-its-your

https://www.tumblr.com/oftenwantedafton/768463697613094912/craving-william-afton-x-freader-there-is

https://www.tumblr.com/sw33t-d1vine/721251129750667264/hiii-im-lowkey-going-through-a-william-afton?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/sw33t-d1vine/716216942248247296/can-you-do-springtrap-kinda-brooding-about-his?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/aftxnrxbxtics/772669189514215424/hai-there-3-i-have-a-req-if-u-arent?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/aftxnrxbxtics/775844346229571584/follow-me?source=share

These are all I found. I'd look for more but i'm tired asf rn. I recommend these authors for fnaf tho!- @aftxnrxbxtics @oftenwantedafton @yellowbunnydreams

recommend ME some blogs for william afton if yk them!!

[spr1ngpvrinbwunnie]

💄🎀 Sweet, Silly Coquette Moments w/ William Afton - 𝒀𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒍𝒊𝒏, 𝒘𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒌 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎’𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒑 𝒃𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒔

(aka: Him = your goth rabbit test subject husband)

💋 Lipstick Tester Chronicles™

You own like… 56 lipsticks. Every shade of pink, cherry red, coral, and even sparkly lavender.

William has now become your official lipstick test dummy.

“Stay still, darling. I’m testing the kiss-resistance of this one.”

You kiss his cheek, lean back dramatically… “Hmph. Not good enough. You’re stained. Again!”

Now his neck and jaw are permanently bruised with kiss marks in various shades. He acts annoyed.

“You’re using me like parchment paper.”

But does he move away? No.

Does he wear a scarf to hide the marks? Also no.

He lowkey likes it. It's your signature on him.

So naturally, you grab William by the collar while he's heading into a meeting with Henry.

You: "Hold still, love—need to make sure this one doesn’t smudge when I kiss you stupid." 💄💋

You plant a glittery red kiss on his cheek. He stares at you, deadpan. Then walks into the office anyway.

Henry: “...Will.” William: “Don’t say it.” Henry: “Is that a lip mark on your forehead?” William: “...I’m being hunted.”

🌸 You Glitterbomb Him Before Important Meetings

“Willy,” you whisper, eyes gleaming, “I think your cheekbones need more sparkle.”

Before he can escape, you swipe glitter highlighter all over his face.

When he goes to meetings with Henry or anyone else, he’s just:

Stone-cold serial killer face... with pink shimmer on his nose and cupid's bow.

The animatronics can sense the glitter. Even Freddy blinks twice.

He pretends not to care, but the moment he gets back to you, he leans down and mutters: “You... absolute menace. I looked like a disco ball.” You kiss his nose. “The cutest disco ball.”

🎨 Full Coquette Makeover Ambushes

Sometimes you just tackle him onto the fainting couch with makeup brushes in hand.

“Your undereyes are criminal, sweetheart. Sit down. Let mama fix that.”

You give him blush, fake lashes, glitter eyeliner—and sometimes tie a bow around his ponytail.

He looks like a villain in drag and mutters under his breath the whole time.

“If the kids see this, I will never recover.”

“Oh hush, you look divine. A little Victorian boy who tells lies.”

🎠 Embarrassing Him in Front of His Kids and Animatronics™

You love calling him pet names like “Honeybun,” “Starlight,” or “My Sparkly Bun-Bun” in front of the Afton kids or animatronics.

Elizabeth is like: “...Dad. Did she just call you Bun-Bun?”

William: ”No. You’re hallucinating.”

Sometimes you leave glittery kiss marks on his cheek on purpose before he enters the dining area.

Freddy: “Mr. Afton, you are… sparkly today.”

He turns to you with a flat expression and mutters: “They’re planning a coup. I can see it in their eyes.”

🐰 His animatronics are suspicious

Freddy: “Sir, you are displaying romantic residue. Shall I initiate cleanup protocol?”

Bonnie: “Heyyy Mr. A, you got some sugar on your collar—wink wink—”

Chica: “Aww, is it your anniversary???”

William: “I am surrounded by traitors.”

If you ever sneak up behind him while he’s in front of employees and tug his coat, whispering:

“Bun-Bun, you forgot your kiss~”

He’ll literally freeze like a haunted Victorian ghost, then growl under his breath:

"You're lucky I love you, you glitter-cursed minx."

And you? Smug, swinging your fox tail, bells jingling with mischief.

💞 You leave pink notes in his files

When his employees go through the safe room logs, there's a note between pages:

“Reminder: Tell William he’s a sparkly little bun-bun and I love him. Also, he looks kissable when he’s mad. xoxo ~Celeste/[Your Name] ♡”

He reads it mid-meeting and just closes the file slowly while his cheeks are burning. Henry’s watching him with suspicious side-eye. “You good?” “No.”

🧵 You Custom-Make Him Embroidered Coquette Clothing

You sew him delicate lace-trimmed gloves that match your aesthetic.

They’re black with little embroidered rabbits, roses, and stitched “W x _” initials.

He acts like it’s overly sentimental nonsense, but he wears them to work.

You once gave him a handmade pink satin bowtie with tiny skulls on it.

“For formal murder occasions,” you told him.

He genuinely choked laughing.

🐇 “Bunny, Hold Still While I Glue Rhinestones on You”

You treat him like your ✨bedazzle Barbie✨.

“Your springlock suit is cute, but it could use... rhinestone teardrops. And a few pearls.”

“You’re not turning me into a coquette show pony.”

“Too late.”

Sometimes you stick little gems under his eyes before a private show/performance night.

He acts grumpy, but backstage? He smirks. “You missed a spot, sweetheart.”

You also insisted on “adding a little flair” to his springlock suit. By the time you were done:

It had ruffled cuffs.

A glittery pocket square.

A little stitched label on the inside that read: “Property of [Your Name] 💘 Touch and perish.”

🌸 You bedazzle his tools

You find his toolbox one day and decide it needs a little pizzazz. Now everything is covered in pastel rhinestones, pink lace, and heart stickers.

The screwdriver is now “Mr. Pointy Love.”

The wrench? Covered in butterfly decals.

His springlock maintenance gloves? 💖 “Kiss the technician” embroidered on the back.

He doesn’t realize until Henry calls from backstage:

Henry: “Will. Why is your crowbar sparkling.” William: "...Ask my beloved demon."

🧁 Mid-performance interruptions

You’re in your Celeste suit, doing your little puppet show for the kids, being all sugar-sweet and cute— Then William walks by.

You completely break character, lean toward the mic, and go:

“There’s my darling sparkle daddy~ Don’t forget date night tonight! If you’re late, I’m smothering you in glitter hugs and kissing you in front of Henry again!”

Cue every employee pausing. William doesn’t even stop walking. Just raises a hand and mutters, "I married chaos."

☕ You Two in Full Vintage Aesthetic Being Weirdly Romantic

You bake pastries in a frilly vintage apron while he reads on the couch, looking like a noir villain.

Then you plop into his lap, covered in flour, and kiss his temple.

He pretends to scowl but hums contentedly under his breath.

Later, you hand-feed him strawberries from porcelain plates while still wearing a heart-shaped apron.

“Your sugar’s showing,” he mumbles as you peck his lips.

“So’s yours,” you reply, smearing a little pink frosting on his nose.

📖 Bonus Scenario: Caught Daydreaming

One day you catch him sketching a version of himself and you in full fursona suits, wearing matching bows and kissing under a heart-shaped arch.

You sneak up behind him.

“WILLIAM AFTON. Are you drawing romantic animatronic fanfiction of us?”

He slams the notebook shut, face flushed like a rose macaron. “NO. IT’S FOR SCIENCE.”

You hold him from behind, giggling. “My little blushing bunny…”

[muppetallica]

More William Afton x Reader headcanons because I am a whore with daddy issues

His body is majestic, for lack of a better word.

Thick thighs, muscular arms, delightfully veiny hands.

William's chest and arms are decorated with a myriad of scars. Some are from previous accidental springlock failures. He can be incredibly self-conscious of them at times, so you always make sure to emphasize how much you love them, taking extra care to press kisses to the sensitive area, stating how they never make you think any differently of him.

(His v-line is positively to die for.)

This man has the most adorable happy trail and I will die on this hill.

William loves, loves, LOVES hickies and love bites. On you, on him, it doesn't matter. It makes him feel owned and gives him an outlet to be possessive of you in a way everyone can see.

If you ever make him a bracelet he will never take it off.

He will melt into a puddle if you ever refer to him as any cringey name. Specifically, ones referring to him being your husband.

William will never admit it, but he loves to cuddle.

He's always warm. Cuddling with William is like having your own personal weighted, heated blanket.

Loves taking baths and showers with you, in a wholesome context or otherwise. He would want to do everything for you, washing your hair and your body, drying you off, and rubbing fancy lotions into your skin.

William is a sucker for food made from scratch. He will very easily put on a few extra pounds during the holidays.

Huge sweet tooth. Cake, cookies, candy, you name it, he'll eat it.

(I'm imagining William going feral for southern cooking. He'd think some things were iffy at first, but end up gobbling it all up. Especially biscuits and gravy. Any sweets that were a family recipe would have him on his knees too.)

Per my title, William would love a reader with daddy issues. He'd say all the right things to get you ticking.

Without a doubt, William would love spoiling his partner. He's gotta do something with all that money, and dressing you up and spoiling you is his favorite thing to do. Expect fancy beauty products, trinkets, nice clothes and shoes, lingerie, toys, and anything that would make his girl happy.

William would love to pick out your outfits, making you feel like a porcelain doll while he plays build a bear.

Thank you so much for reading and for all the support on my first set of headcanons!

[superstar-nan]

Execute Command

Night 4

Summary: You play house with Springtrap. Plot twist, he's a terrible partner.

Words: 7,448

Fun stuff: Trigger warnings for blood, non-con behavior (nothing is sexual, but he does and thinks things that elicit that imagery), abusive relationships, obsessive behavior, trauma and psyche related dissociation, graphic descriptions of violence.

First ♡ Prev

───── (\ /) ─────

A melodic ringing snapped me out of my trance. You too paused, your gentle caress stopping. I felt you turn your head to the side.

“...Bonnie,” your voice was sore with fatigue, a low dull monotony. “It’s morning.”

Gears clicked in my head as I came back to awareness, as if I was truly waking up. I lifted up off of you. You looked deeply exhausted. Your eyes were bloodshot; dark circles shadowed under them. Your hand I held twitched when I let it go, the circulation returning to your fingertips. You didn’t even react as I tilted your chin up.

Your neck was decorated with a lovely purple. My favorite color. 

I looked at the source of the ringing. It was your thin phone. With mechanical and uneven movements, I pick it up in all its flashing lights and sound. That seemed to wake you up. You went to sit up, but I pushed you back down by your chest.

... I didn’t know how to answer it. I didn’t know if my rotting fingers had the dexterity to answer it. My fingers twitched and jerked under this realization.

I held the phone to your ear.

You pressed against its screen as I held it for you, “... Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.” The nightguard.

“Hey.”

“You sound exhausted.”

You couldn’t meet my eyes, “Long night.”

“I can tell,” They said. “How is... uhm, it.”

“T̷e̴l̶l̸ ̴t̷h̸e̶m̶ ̸n̵o̴t̴h̶i̵n̵g̷.̶” 

“What?”

You faked a cough, “Sorry. It’s going well. I fixed the storage protocol it had.”

“... And it hasn’t...?”

“What, come to life and killed me yet?” Fatigue seeped into your voice as you dryly humored yourself with your own private joke. “I’m fine.”

“Good. Good. When are you going to call the police about...?”

“The body?” You exhaled as you looked to the side, “I don’t know. Soon.”

Your name was said in exasperation, “Please! Take this seriously!”

You looked at me. Your eyes were a colorless slate. Exhausted. Defeated. It was as though you knew your fate. You weren’t getting out of this alive. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll call them the day after tomorrow.”

A sigh left your phone, “Thank you... Do you wanna grab dinner before I head to work tonight? It was boring last night.”

“I̴n̴v̶i̸t̶e̷ ̵t̷h̴e̵m̶ ̷h̶e̸r̴e̷.̵” 

Your brow twinged. You didn’t say anything.

The voice on the phone asked your name in a question.

“I̴n̴v̶i̸t̶e̷ ̵t̷h̴e̵m̶ ̷h̶e̸r̴e̷,” I commanded again.

A familiar expression crossed your features, one I saw often in my past life. Of course I’d be familiar with it, I ran a pizzeria crawling with beastly little brats day in and day out. But it was a lifetime ago, and by the time I recognized it, it was already too late.

You snatched the phone out of my hand and rolled out from under me, “Dinner sounds great. Quit your job. Do not go back. Don’t even go back tonight. Don’t-”

I grabbed your ankle with a tight crushing squeeze and you hissed in pain. I dragged you back to me, ripped the phone out of your hand, and shattered it in one forceful clasp.

You stupid brat. You dull-minded idiot. Did all that exhaustion cloud your judgement? Or were you just that stupid.

A furious popping and fizzing dripped from my choking, gasping voicebox.

You winced at its screeching, but you hardened your gaze as you looked up at me, “I’m not gonna let you kill my friend.”

“L̶e̸t̷ ̸m̵e̴?̷” I laughed, but the sound that left my voicebox sounded more like snarling, choking hyenas. “Y̶o̸u̸ ̴w̸o̸n̷'̴t̷ ̵h̵a̵v̶e̶ ̸a̷ ̶c̸h̵o̷i̸c̶e̸.̵”

“Touch them,” Hot, burning venom dripped from your tongue as your gaze seared into me like a brand. “And I’ll kill you.”

Oh, I liked that. Your anger burned hot, your eyes hardening with a determination I wanted to break. I bet I could choke the rage out of you, suffocating you with fear until not even your anger could keep you warm. I bet I could make you hate me until all your thoughts were plagued by me. I bet I could keep you up at night without having to even touch you. 

You exhaled, and your sweet anger left with your breath. You touched my arm and my eyes clicked to it. You were trying to calm me again. “Look. I don’t want to fight.”

My head twitched, mechanically. “Y̷o̶u̷'̶d̶ ̵l̵o̶s̴e̶.̷”

“Hypothetically, maybe,” I didn’t know which stunned me more, your audacity or your touch. Your thumb rhythmically rubbed back and forth and it sent electricity up my arm. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m going to fix your noise protocol and then...”

My eyes snapped to yours and you shuddered.

“And then you can go back to haunt Fazbear’s or whatever. I don’t care what you do.”

I tilted my head to the side, the motion sharp and unnatural. I felt Bonnie’s ears lean heavily. “D̴o̵ ̵y̷o̶u̷ ̸t̸h̷i̶n̸k̸ ̸y̴o̴u̶'̷l̵l̸ ̷s̸u̶r̵v̷i̵v̵e̷ ̶t̶h̵i̶s̶?̶”

You swallowed, thick and anxious. Your grip on my arm tightened. You chewed your bottom lip, “I can be useful beyond just fixing your protocol. Your parts are ancient. Parts could break. You could come back to me if anything broke.”

I wanted to laugh at how pathetic you sounded, suggesting anything you could think of to try convincing me. I bet I could make you beg for your life—beg to be my personal mechanic. Beg to be mine... A thrill traveled up my spine at the thought. I opened my jaw, and my voice cracked to haunted, strangled life, “H̷y̵p̵o̷t̷h̴e̴t̸i̸c̸a̶l̸l̸y̵,̸ ̵m̶a̶y̵b̶e̷.̵”

You deadpanned, and it made you look all the more tired. You let go of my arm and my second skin itched to have you back, “I need to make food.”

I didn’t move, but I didn’t hold you back either.

You crawled out from under me, keeping your eyes on me in case I made any sudden movements. You slowly edged toward the door, still watching me. 

In an abrupt robotic jolt, I unlatched my jaw with a sharp mechanical hiss. You flinched. Funny.

You cooked as if on autopilot, barely seeing the food in front of you. At intervals, you moved your attention to me, ensuring I wasn’t about to kill you. 

When your food was done, you just sat in front of it, staring. You didn’t have an appetite. You looked back at me, “Do you eat?”

My body craved food once, long ago. My need for sleep and air outweighed my hunger and thirst, however. All of it was nothing compared to the pain.

“...So you’re just watching because...?”

I liked to watch.

You exhaled, your breath shaking. You forced yourself to eat. In between bites, you said, “I need to go out-”

I slammed a hand on the table, shaking your plate. You froze. “Y̵o̸u̶ ̶a̴r̴e̴ ̷n̸o̷t̸ ̴l̵e̴a̸v̶i̶n̴g̴.̴”

You kept my eye-contact, deliberately steady, “I can’t fix you without equipment.”

“Y̷o̶u̷ ̶h̶a̸v̶e̴ ̴e̴q̷u̵i̸p̴m̴e̴n̵t̷.̵” I said, strangled breath starting to seep louder through my voicebox.

“I did,” You said. “Before you ripped my wires apart. Twice.”

I imagined strangling you with those wires. I imagined using them as a garotte. I imagined your skin and flesh breaking with every twist of my wrists. I imagined you choking on your blood and tears, promising me you’ll stay—groveling to stay.

“Alright,” You said, your eyes wide at whatever expression I was wearing. You threw your hands up in surrender. “I’ll see if I can get it delivered. Good lord.”

My head twitched. 

When you were done forcing yourself to eat, you took your thin computer to your living room. You tried to angle your computer away from me, but I moved it back. You swallowed. I watched as you ordered wires from some kind of catalogue on the computer.

You stared at your computer screen, not moving. 

“...I have to let my friend know I’m okay or they’ll call the police.”

“Y̵o̸u̶ ̶a̴r̴e̴ ̷n̸o̷t̸ ̴l̵e̴a̸v̶i̶n̴g̴.̴”

“Yeah, you said that,” You snapped, turning to me with annoyance. The moment you laid eyes on me, your eyes wavered in fear and you turned back to your computer screen. “But you broke my phone. So.”

I said nothing.

“Don’t you think having the police involved might complicate things a little?”

“Y̷o̵u̴ ̷w̶i̶l̶l̸ ̸s̴e̵n̴d̸ ̵t̷h̷e̷m̵ ̸a̶w̷a̸y̷.̵”

Your eyes briefly flicked to me, “I told them I’d do dinner.”

“T̶h̴e̷n̸ ̶p̷r̸a̷y̵ ̴t̶h̵e̸y̴ ̴d̸o̷n̵'̶t̵ ̶c̴o̶m̷e̴ ̵t̵o̸ ̸y̷o̷u̴.̶”

You stared ahead of you, eyes fixing with a cold chill, “You are as dark as you look.”

I stared at you. Your gaze set so assuredly. Stubbornly. I needed to break that. 

> Execute command [HOLD_HANDS] 

I slipped my hand into yours—the same hand I held the night before—interlocking our fingers and pressing into your couch with a slow crack of your knuckles. You winced under the pressure, sucking in a breath of air. I leaned closer to you. “D̶o̴ ̴y̷o̵u̸ ̶w̵a̶n̴t̷ ̴t̷o̵ ̸l̵e̵a̶v̵e̵?̵”

“What-?”

“D̶o̵ ̵i̷t̶.̵ ̶L̶e̸a̶v̷e̵.̶” I unhinged my jaw, and your eyes fell to my flesh beyond my mask.

You swallowed, and you couldn’t drag your eyes from my corpse, “...Why?”

“W̶h̸e̷n̴ ̵y̸o̸u̷ ̷r̵e̴t̶u̸r̸n̵,̶ ̶I̷ ̴w̴o̵n̶'̸t̴ ̸b̶e̴ ̶h̸e̸r̶e̶.̵ ̸I̴'̸l̷l̸ ̸b̸e̷ ̷w̷i̴t̴h̸ ̶t̶h̸e̶m̶.̵ ̸T̵h̴e̵y̷ ̷c̶a̸n̵'̴t̶ ̴r̸u̸n̸ ̶f̴r̵o̴m̶ ̴m̵e̸.̶” My breath wheezed as I leaned closer to you. I could feel the heat emanating from your blood, so warm against my cold, lifeless body.“I̸'̸l̵l̷ ̸m̵a̶k̸e̸ ̸i̴t̴ ̶l̵a̵s̶t̴.̵ W̷e̴'̸l̸l̴ ̴p̶l̸a̸y̶ ̶g̶a̵m̴e̶s̵.̷. ̶A̴n̸d̴ ̵w̷h̷e̷n̷ ̷I̴'̶m̶ ̴d̷o̴n̴e̶,̸ ̵I̸'̵l̴l̷ ̷c̸o̷m̷e̴ ̴b̷a̵c̸k̸ ̷f̶o̶r̷ ̴y̵o̵u̵.” I almost wished you would leave. If it weren’t for the terrible white noise that plagued me, I would’ve encouraged you to. I tapped into Spring Bonnie’s voice, “I̷'̸l̷l̴ ̴t̸h̵r̷o̶w̸ ̸y̶o̶u̵ ̵a̴ ̸p̸a̵r̸t̷y̶.̷ I̵'̸l̵l̵ ̸g̴i̵v̸e̶ ̶y̴o̵u̷ ̵a̴ ̷g̸i̵f̴t̷.̴” I tilted my head, and my ears felt heavy as they leaned with a terrible creak. “W̶o̴u̸l̷d̶ ̷y̴o̵u̶ ̴l̷i̷k̶e̴ ̷a̴ ̶g̴i̷f̸t̶,̵ ̷c̷a̵r̶r̵o̴t̶?̸”

I wanted to see you shrink in fear. I wanted to see you burn with hatred. I wanted to feel your shock, horror, disgust, anger, despair, terror, desperation, agony—I wanted to pull emotion out of you like cotton candy. You gave me none of that. You gave me nothing. Your eyes glazed with a cold, numbness. How frustrating! How utterly unsatisfying. 

“No,” You said, and your eyes were as lifeless as mine. 

My breath wheezed, yearning for more from you. “D̶o̴ ̴y̷o̵u̸ ̶w̵a̶n̴t̷ ̴t̷o̵ ̸l̵e̵a̶v̵e̵?̵” I asked again.

“No,” You turned back to your computer, your hand still in my possession. “I don’t.”

I tilted your head back to me, and you let me do it. As disappointing as your response was, there was something that I liked about that. “G̸o̷o̵d̸ ̴c̵a̵r̸r̷o̵t̵.̴”

You didn’t respond. 

I watched you as you worked. You were focused on something unfamiliar. Whatever it was, it didn’t have to do with me. I didn’t care. I liked watching you work. You were slow, though. You only had one hand to use your keyboard and mouse. I wouldn’t let go of your hand. I could feel your pulse in between your fingers, blood rushing in a rhythmic tempo. I was lulled by it. Your living body was my music box.

After some time, you cast your eyes in my direction, “I need my other hand.”

I executed the command squeeze. You winced.

“You could lay your head on my lap?” You asked.

How patronizing. I hated that you knew I needed to touch you. I hated that you used it to placate me. I hated that it worked. You vile rotten little thing. I squeezed your hand tighter still, and a sharp gasp left your lips.

“Okay, ‘no’ would’ve worked.” You said between strained breaths. “How about I sit in your lap?”

A low hiss escaped from my machinery. It was nothing to you. Touching me was nothing to you, while it was everything to me. I resented you for that. I squeezed tighter still.

“Ow!” Your hiss of pain echoed mine as you cursed under your breath, trying to pry my hand off of yours, “Ow-ow-ow! Is there no winning with you?!”

The fact that you were still alive was winning, did you not realize how lucky you were?

“You can have my hand, just-!” Your fingers were useless as you tried pulling my grip free of your hand. It wouldn’t work, but I enjoyed feeling you try, “Please-!”

> execute([RELEASE])

You swiped your hand back to your chest too quickly. I was almost in shock. But then, I was enraged. Didn’t Bonnie want to hold you as much as I did? Didn’t he need your touch just as much?! Stupid soft-hearted rabbit! I would rip his wires from my veins if it meant being rid of his control. 

You were rubbing your hand rhythmically while scanning me, your eyes puzzled and searching. It made me more annoyed. I felt my voicebox pop and fizzle in agitation, and you shied from me. Then, something calculative crossed your eyes. I’d seen it before, when you worked. When you solved the mystery of my voicebox, my storage protocol, my true nature. 

You held out your hand to me, a sacrificial offering, “I want you to hold me, Bonnie. Will you please hold me?”

Rage calmed like cool water over heated metal. In a moment, I was spellbound by your words. I want you to hold me. Will you please hold me. I want you to hold me. Will you please hold me. I want you. Please hold me. I want you. Please hold me. I want you. Please. I want you. Please. I want you. Please.

Oh, you sweet liar. You lovely little snake. Pleasure trailed up my spine like a drug. You didn’t want to touch me. You were repulsed by me. That didn’t matter—you knew it didn’t matter and so did I. 

I inclined closer to you, and you drew back by instinct. I liked that. Bonnie was a live wire with the desire to do as you begged. I placed my large hand so close to your thigh, leaning over you. “C̵o̷m̸m̸a̴n̷d̸,̷” My choked breath felt heavy under the weight of my pleasure. “n̷o̵t̶ ̸r̶e̷c̵o̷g̴n̸i̴z̶e̸d̵.̷ R̴e̸p̶e̸a̴t̵ ̷y̷o̸u̸r̸ ̶r̷e̴q̴u̷e̷s̸t̵.̴”

Your face scrunched up in an annoyance that I found delightful. I could practically feel you restraining yourself from rolling your eyes or making some snarky quip. However, clever carrot that you were, you understood your place. You were my hostage. “I want you to hold me. Please hold me, Bonnie.”

“A̶g̶a̴i̵n̶.̵” My voice was more my own than Bonnie’s.

You swallowed, “Please hold me, B-”

“A̶g̶a̸i̴n̵.̷” 

“...Please hold me.”

A strange sound left my voicebox; it sounded like the dying of glass and metal in a broken whine. My gears felt hot. My flesh felt wired. My head felt too light, it hurt. I wanted you. I wanted to taste you. I would have you.

I could hear your pulse echo in my head. I would feel it against my teeth.

You shouldn’t have been so sweet to me.

I held out my hand to you; rotten fur and soiled metal. I needed you to initiate. I needed you to want it. 

You gently, tentatively, reluctantly placed your hand in mine. 

Your surrender was ecstasy.

I affectionately wrapped my claws around your wrist. How lucky you were to be the object of my affection, even if only for now... Your gut reaction was to tense, but you didn’t pull away. Good carrot.

I dragged your forearm to my teeth, my jaw a breath away from your veins. I could smell your blood beneath your skin. I felt your pulse through your wrist. Your heart raced. I loved when I made your heart race. “D̷o̷ ̵y̵o̵u̵ ̵l̷i̴k̸e̸ ̶m̶e̷,̶ ̷c̷a̵r̸r̴o̶t̵?̸” If you said anything other than ‘yes’, I would break your arm.

You blinked, stalled for just a second, before you said, “Sure.”

My mechanical eyes focused on you, my grip tightening on your wrist, and my head twitching to the side. I couldn’t tell if that satisfied me.

“I mean, yes!” Whatever expression I was making moved you to correct yourself, “I like you.”

My voice box reverberated with a low, pleased purr. I unlatched my jaw in a squelching and sticking release, delighted with how you reacted in disgust. I angled my jaw over your arm—I needed your reaction. I would sear the image of your expression in my memory forever: eyes widened with the horror of realization.

Slowly, I sank my teeth—both my teeth—into your flesh.

You were warm. You were alive. I could feel your pulse directly on my corpse. Pain and pleasure mingled in searing intensity when I touched you with my actual body. I wanted it. I wanted you seared onto me like a brand. And I wanted to be a scar you could never heal from. 

You choked a gasp, your free hand digging into my shoulder as you braced yourself. Pathetic. I bit enough to bruise, not to break skin. I should’ve torn your flesh apart. But... you were so sweet to me, how could I deny you a reward? I had always been guilty of spoiling my favorites...

I let you go, and your body relaxed. Your breath came in heavy, hot pants, as if you too were coming down from a high. 

Maybe you were? Maybe you liked my attention? 

... No... There was something missing when I looked at you. I forced myself not to think about it. I wouldn’t let your detachment ruin my satisfaction.

Your eyes widened with renewed horror when you saw two sets of bitemarks. Pleasure shuddered through me. I wasn’t done. 

I slowly pulled you towards me, and you let me. Strange. I thought you would struggle. You didn’t. I angled my jaw over your shoulder, my mouth large enough to stretch from your neck to your upper arm. You shivered with anticipation underneath my cold, simulated breath. I adored how you shook in my grasp. “D̴o̸ ̸y̷o̸u̶ ̶w̵a̴n̶t̵ ̵t̴o̷ ̸l̶e̸a̵v̵e̷ ̵m̸e̸,̷ ̸c̴a̴r̶r̴o̶t̷?̶” If you said anything other than ‘no’, I would tear your throat out.

Your throat was close enough to me that I heard you swallow. “No,” Your voice was tense, your breath strained. You knew what I was going to do. “I want to stay.”

I sank my teeth into you again, my voicebox grinding in a low delight. You sucked in air through your teeth, bracing against my shoulder again. My grip tightened around your wrist, while my other hand came around your waist. In one sharp motion, I pulled your body flush to mine. Your gasp was that of a lover’s... It made my decayed heart skip.

I didn’t break skin again. You lucky thing. I wished my tongue hadn’t decayed to nothing so I could pull sounds from you with it.

I let you go with that sickening squelch again, and your body went slack. Your chest heaved. You were sweating. Everything about you was so alive and I loved that I tasted it. I deserved to taste it. You belonged to me. Your compliance was proof of that.

I let go of your wrist and moved my hand to your waist so that I was holding both your hips. I relished how your heartbeat raced when I lightly nuzzled your collarbone, hardly touching you—a facsimile of affection I yearned to pull fear from. I continued to descend past your chest and sternum. Pleasure cooed from me as I felt your hyperventilating. I angled my jaw over one side of your waist, my teeth stretching from the last of your ribs to the tip of your pelvic bone.

By instinct, your hand came to the back of my head. I adored that. You weren’t trying to pull me off, but I could tell you wanted to. You knew who you belonged to.

I let you breathe. I let you adjust. I let you get used to my presence so close, so intimate. I wanted to lower your heart rate so I could make it race again.

When your sweat cooled, and you could finally match my gaze, I asked, “D̶o̴ ̸y̸o̶u̴ ̷b̴e̴l̵o̷n̶g̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̸m̷e̵,̵ ̴c̸a̷r̴r̴o̵t̵?̵” If you said anything other than ‘yes’, I would gut you.

You made a face. Your face scrunched in annoyance. You didn’t like it. It didn’t matter if you didn’t like it, I still owned you, and it pissed me off you hesitated. My grip on your waist tightened, my mechanical eyes narrowing.

You sighed, as if it was a chore and how that infuriated me, “Yes.”

My claws dug into your hips. Furious fizzing and popping came from my voicebox. You didn’t believe it. You would soon. 

You cringed against my touch, before something akin to a whine left your throat, spoiled brat, “Don’t make me say it...” 

I buried my teeth into the flesh of your hip, blood spilling from you in a euphoric warmth. You tasted like iron and salt and a pleasure sweeter than cake. Like scratching a maddening itch, strangled curses left your throat as your nails dug into the back of my head. You choked on the pain and I savored it.

“Fuck-FUCK!” You swore, yanking at my ears in a way that sent a thrill down my spine, “I belong to you! I belong to you!”

I abruptly let you go, and you gasped. Blood soaked your shirt, chilling your warm body with a shudder. Tears welled in your eyes that you refused to let spill, and that excited me more than if you cried openly. It was cute.

I tilted my head in a lie of innocence, rubbing my thumbs along your waist—including over your freshly made wound. You hissed in pain, and I could see the tears threaten to fall. I wanted to see you cry. I wanted you to try your hardest to resist tears, only to give in. I wanted you to surrender.

You didn’t. You swallowed your pain and glared at me, “Asshole!” You snapped, though there was hardly any venom in it. Mostly pain. Funny.

I descended further, pushing your legs up, your back pressed against the arm of the couch. For the first time, your face flushed with exhilarating warmth. Electricity washed over my metal and skeletal spine. Your breath heaved—not in pain, but in hot anticipation. I could eat your attention, and it was mouthwatering. In a show of faux affection, I nuzzled against your inner-thigh, and you grabbed my rabbit ears in a way that made me see stars. I could feel your pulse from your femoral artery, a sensation that made me dizzy. It was as fast as a bunny’s...

“Bonnie-!” You gasped as I angled my jaw over your inner thigh.

“D̷o̶ ̴y̶o̴u̸ ̵w̵a̶n̷t̵ ̶m̶e̶,̷ ̶c̵a̴r̸r̸o̴t̵?̵” I said, my mock air cold and heavy against your thigh. If you said anything other than ‘yes’, I would tear your leg from your body.

“Th-!” You squeaked, flushed with warmth from cheeks to chest. “There?!”

... Okay, I’d make an exception for that.

I relished how you flustered, a hiss of air leaving your teeth as you couldn’t bear to look at me. I caressed your thigh with my thumb, a coaxing reminder of who was holding you. You could be so lovely when you unraveled...

You swallowed, heavy and hot, before slamming your eyes shut and nodding. “Yes. I want you.” You said, and it was closer to a delightful whine than the resolve you wanted it to be.

I was slow. I wanted you to feel it. I wanted you to enjoy it. I wanted you to desire my body as much as I desired yours. I was gentle. I only bruised you, even though I wanted to make you bleed again. You should be thanking me. Praising me. Loving me. It infuriated me that you didn’t. I was so good to you, and you were awful to me. But the way you gripped me and covered your own mouth to stop from making any noise was enough to sedate me.

I gave my best attempt at sucking, though it ended up more of a gnaw. There was no command prompt for ‘suck’ and my lungs were littered with holes.

I drank what emotion spilled from you, indulging in how I could make you feel. Your eyes met mine, and I shivered. Your pupils were moons, your cheeks flushed hot, you bit your trembling lip. Pleasure warmed me in a heavy shudder—fuck, I could’ve moaned under your blushed attention.

I let you go. You let out a heavy exhale, closing your eyes in relief. Did you feel cold without me? Did you miss me already? I wished you did.

> execute command ([HOLD_HANDS]) = Yes/No?

Oh, excellent idea, Bonnie.

>Yes.

I took your hand, the one I held the night before, and held it to my maw. I rubbed your soft, warm hand against my tattered lips, feeling every callous and every tendon in your flesh. I wished it mattered to you as much as it mattered to me... You were still disoriented by my last bite. I found that so endearing; my unmoving smile could’ve widened. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to kiss it tenderly, or bite it viciously.

“Whatever it is,” You said with exhausted breath, your head falling back on the couch’s arm. “The answer is yes. Just do it.”

Bite it is.

I slammed my jaw around your palms and fingers. You screamed, grabbing at my jaw to pull me off. Blood splattered against my face, dripping into your couch. You were trying to rip your hand out of my bite, but it was only tearing your flesh more. I loved how you squirmed in pain, twisting and writhing to free yourself. Your eyes welled with those unshed tears, as you seethed through your clenched teeth. 

Your pain was candy to me. I would make myself the center of your psyche, one way or another.

“Let go! Let go!” You were pulling on my lower jaw, futile and weak and so entertaining. You were so helpless, it charmed me. Finally—finally—the icing on the delicious cake, tears you wanted to hold back dropped down your lovely cheeks. Poor thing. Affection and pleasure washed over me. You shut your eyes tight, your weak resistance slowing, “Please-!”

I let go, and you pulled your bloodied hand to your chest. You cradled it. Your whole body was shaking as you took deep, tentative breaths. You were calming yourself. Did I make you anxious, carrot? I felt Bonnie at the edges of my mind yearn to comfort you with his protocol. I took great pleasure in denying him and you.

“Bastard!” You cursed sharply under your breath before glaring at me. I found it amusing you still had the spirit to glare. “I need this hand! To fix you!”

I tilted my head. It was slow, mechanical.

You growled under your breath, “Don’t play innocent. My blood is staining your teeth!”

I thought you’d at least have the tact to play along. “P̶a̶t̸h̵e̵t̶i̶c̶.̷”

“Pathetic? Pathetic?” Your voice rose in anger. Brave. Stupid. “If you weren’t a seven-foot metal monster-”

I held your hand to my muzzle, sinking my claws into your wound with a sharp hiss from you. “I̵t̴'̶s̵ ̵b̸a̵r̸e̶l̵y̵ ̵a̶ ̸s̷c̸r̵a̶t̵c̴h̵.̶’”

You swiped your hand back, and I let you. “It still hurts.” You agreed? I was trying to provoke you... 

I found it odd how cavalier you were being. You were frustrated, but you were masking your fear with it. Was it a defense mechanism? Did you feel protected when you hid your fear from me? I wanted to pull it out of you and make you face it. 

You groaned, “I need to wash these...”

When you stood up, I grabbed your wrist and pulled you back on the couch.

“Y̴o̵u̷ ̷a̷r̶e̷.̸.̵.̴” What was the right word? “.̶.̶.̴c̸o̴m̸p̶l̵a̷c̸e̷n̵t̵.̷”

“...That’s not the word I’d use.”

“D̸o̷ ̴y̵o̸u̶ ̵t̶h̷i̴n̷k̵ ̸I̵ ̴w̷o̷n̴'̵t̷ ̴k̸i̴l̶l̵ ̴y̷o̴u̸?̶”

You furrowed your brow. Emotions I didn’t recognize crossed your features. Was it calculation? Confusion? I wasn’t sure, and the puzzle of it made me tilt my head, heavy and broken rabbit ears shifting to one side. After choosing your words carefully, you said, “I wouldn’t let you bite me if I didn’t think you were going to kill me.”

My head twitched mechanically. My gears churned. I didn’t understand what you meant.

You picked up on this—something I hated, I didn’t like being read. “You need... this,” You took my hand in yours, the bloody hand. It sent a thrill up my arm, “Right?”

I stared at your hand obsessively. Furiously. Rage encompassed my entire being, it burned my metal bones. As if it wasn’t humiliating enough that I relied on you—that I keeled at your feet just to taste you, and rotted in desperation when you were gone—how dare you point it out? Did you think you were safe? Did you think that my neurosis protected you? I loathed my attachment to you. I loathed you. And when I was done with you, I would break your body until you were unrecognizable.

My voice box glitched and popped in my rage, “T̴h̷a̸t̵ ̷d̷o̸e̵s̵ ̷n̴o̵t̷ ̷m̶a̵k̷e̴ ̶y̴o̵u̵ ̴s̴a̴f̸e̷.̵” I hissed.

“Don’t be mad!” You said, aghast at my reaction, “I don’t care what you need, you’re a seven-foot-tall monster bunny robot!”

“R̶a̵b̸b̵i̶t̶.̴”

“Whatever!” You sucked a sharp breath in through your teeth, “Look. You need me for...” You squeezed my hand and I felt that thrill again, “this. And I need you to not kill me. I have a feeling it’s not in your nature to... not kill me. So.” You braced yourself, setting your jaw and looking at me with tired, worried eyes, “We need each other.”

My rage drained.

You needed me.

I would’ve preferred you needed me in the same way I needed you. But... I didn’t hate it. You were right. It was in my nature to kill you. I wanted to, almost as much as I needed to have you. It felt a... decent trade. Your life for your touch.

It wasn’t my first partnership. I knew how to get along. Of course, in this body it was less of a partnership and more of a menage a trois.

“I̸t̵'̶s̴ ̷i̷n̸ ̴m̷y̴ ̷n̶a̶t̸u̵r̶e̶ ̷t̶o̵ ̵h̸u̵r̷t̵ ̶y̷o̵u̴.̷” It was less of a warning, and more of a promise.

You shrugged, “I have a high pain tolerance.”

My wicked heart skipped a beat.

When I didn’t say anything more, you swallowed as you masked your fear in dry humor, “So... Can I wash these? Or would you have me die of sepsis?”

I didn’t respond to you. You eyed me as if you expected me to stop you when you stood up. I watched you carefully. I followed you when you went to your kitchen sink.

You checked your wounds gingerly. I was careful. I only pierced your waist and hand, and I didn’t bite clean through like I could’ve. My end of our deal. You still rasped through your teeth as you took a washcloth to your waist and palm.

You ignored my presence when I followed you to your closet. You pulled out a first aid kit. You began treating your wounds with something that made you hiss. You picked up some bandages, and I grabbed your wrist. You looked at me with tired eyes. Your end of our deal. You set the bandages down.

“The wires won’t get here for another two hours,” You said, avoiding my eye contact. “I can’t do anything until then.”

My eyes were transfixed on my bite marks, flaunting who owned you. Mine...

You tentatively made your way to your room. You stood by your bed, one hand on the sheets. You were gauging my reaction. You were asking for permission. How cute. I was tempted to deny you.

I nodded to the bed. You shivered, and I found that delightful.

You laid on the bed, and I stood next to you, watching you. A look of discomfort crossed your face when you saw me watching you. You curled away from me.

> execute command ([FOLLOW]) = Yes/No?

> Yes.

You flinched when you felt my weight on the bed. I slipped my hands over your waist—over my lovebites—and hugged you tight to me. I could smell you. You were so warm. I loved feeling you. I could hear your heartbeat this close. It was my lullaby. 

Could you fall asleep like this? I wouldn’t mind if you did... that meant you were willingly making yourself vulnerable to me. I also wouldn’t mind if you didn’t, that meant you were too scared of me to listen to your own body.

This partnership... I didn’t mind it. For now. When I grow bored, I could just kill you. You could be fun for me, though. I wondered how far you would go to cater to my desires; how far you’d be willing to stretch if I threatened you—threatened your friend. You did say you had a high pain tolerance, after all. I would enjoy pushing you to your limit.

For now, your heartbeat was enough to sate me.

Apparently, you did fall asleep, because you didn’t stir when there was a knock at the door. I squeezed you until you were gasping and choking awake, clawing at my arms tight around your torso.

“Shit...” You rubbed your eyes with your wrist. Your voice was hoarse with fatigue. Despite how I woke you, your gentle hand came to caress my cheek anyway, “Hi, Bonnie...” You knew how to play your role well.

I leaned into your touch. I wished I could say it was only Bonnie...

“What time is it...?” You blindly palmed your bedside table. There was a wire, unconnected to anything. You groaned, “Oh right. My phone.”

You stumbled out of bed. I wondered if you were numb where I held you. I hoped so. I followed you as you yawned, meandering to your living room. When you saw your clock, you moved to your front door. I knew you were only grabbing your delivered supplies, but it still didn’t stop the panicked rage that swept over me as I saw you open the front door. Even Bonnie’s metal wires were frenzied with command prompts to stop you.

My madness calmed when you closed the door behind you. You looked exhausted. You held up the wires, shaking them, “Shall we?”

I held out my hand to you, and you took it. 

With your thin computer set up, we sat at your kitchen table. You drank a cold, brightly colored drink that looked like antifreeze. You plugged your wires into your computer, holding the ends meant to go into me in your hand.

“Uhm...” You looked to the side bashfully, “I need to put this in you...”

I only stared at you.

“Do you want them in the back or the front?”

“F̶r̴o̴n̷t̵.̴”

You swallowed, “Are you sure? I have to dig through all that-”

“F̶r̴o̴n̷t̵.̴”

You stalled, “...Does it hurt?”

“L̸i̷k̴e̸ ̷a̵ ̴m̴o̷t̸h̸e̷r̸f̴-̷-̶c̴k̴-̷-̴.̵” My voicebox glitched. Dumb rabbit.

You recoiled from me, not expecting that answer. You chewed your bottom lip, “Do you want to do it?”

I twitched, “I̸ ̵c̷a̸n̵'̴t̴.̸” Even if I did have the dexterity, I wouldn’t know where to put them.

You took a shaky breath. You held the wires over my chest.

You weren’t moving.

“S̵t̴o̴p̸ ̷h̴e̴s̶i̸t̸a̷t̴i̸n̵g̸.̵”

“Give me more than five seconds!” You snapped at me, “It’s not so easy...”

“D̸i̸d̸n̷'̸t̶ ̴s̸t̴o̸p̶ ̴y̴o̶u̷ ̶b̴e̸f̵o̵r̸e̶.̵”

“That was before I knew you could feel!” You huffed, dropping the wires in your lap. “And also were violently murderous.”

My head inclined to the side, slow and mechanical. “D̵o̸n̷'̵t̴ ̶y̷o̷u̴ ̴w̵a̷n̸t̵ ̶t̴o̸ ̸h̶u̶r̶t̴ ̴m̵e̴?̶ ̸I̴ ̵l̷i̸k̵e̶d̴ ̴h̵u̸r̸t̸i̸n̵g̴ ̵y̴o̵u̶.̷”

My taunt did nothing, to my chagrin. “Yeah well, not all of us are sadists.”

I bet I could change that, if I made you hate me enough. I just couldn’t seem to get you angry past moderately frustrated. Maybe if I hurt your friend... Another time, another place. “C̷o̴w̶a̷r̵d̵.̸”

“Alright, relax.” You rolled your eyes, “You have to promise not to murder me when it hurts.”

“N̵o̴ ̵p̵r̸o̴m̸i̶s̵e̴s̴.̵”

You exhaled, shaky and tired, “Of course.”

You swallowed as your trembling hands approached my viscera. It burned as you prodded into me, but at least I could move. Fizzing and popping spilled from my voicebox like ichor. I slammed my claws on your table and you flinched. You worked faster in your shaking fear, and I knew it was over when I felt that jolt of electricity through me. That terrible terrible suspension.

A low, dark growl—choking and strangled—left my voicebox. You swiped your hands back to yourself, wiping your soiled fingers on your legs.

Without another word, you were typing on your computer. Code flashed across your screen, a language familiar, and yet a puzzle to me. Henry always had to be different in his programming... And you, with your quick wit, figured it out in nearly a few days. Damn you... 

My voicebox wheezed with strangled breath and I gripped the table, digging lacerations into it.

Your eyes briefly met mine, before returning to the computer, “...Can you feel this, too?”

Every. Pressed. Key. “F̵i̴n̸i̸s̸h̶ ̷u̸p̸.̴”

You continued typing, “Don’t fuss. I’m working on it.”

I sneered, low and threatening.

“I mean, thank you, Bonnie, for being so patient and gracious.”

Better.

I could watch you like this. Your typing that soothed me, your breathing that calmed me, your heartbeat that lulled me. My mind... it felt less fragmented the more time I spent with you. I was still mad, no doubt, but the madness felt less inflamed when with you. I doubt that it was you specifically who did that—typing, breathing, and heartbeat could come from any living creature. But whether or not someone else could satisfy me enough to keep me from killing them... I wasn’t entirely sure. You had a unique trait: you were exciting enough to keep me entertained, and useful enough to keep alive.

It was almost as if you were made to be mine. Even Bonnie favored you.

Steadily, my strangled breath diminished to a low hum, and my grip loosened to a gentle rest. You were... useful. I didn’t have to kill you after you fixed me. You said it yourself, my body was decay incarnate and you were a perfect technician. I could keep you. I would make you beg for it, of course, but you could be mine more permanently than I originally planned. As long as you kept soothing me... and entertaining me.

There was a click. You let out an exhale and leaned back in your chair. Time had slipped through my fingers again. It was fine. Because you put me back together, and I would enjoy making you beg to be mine.

You cracked your neck, “Finally. It’s done."

> Execute([MOVE])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

...What.

You leaned forward, tilting your head as you looked at me, “Can you move, Bonnie?”

> Execute([MOVE])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

You exhaled in relief, “Thank goodness.”

You... You LIAR!

“Oh, come on,” You, filthy snake and venomous tongue, raised your eyebrows. “You had to see this coming.”

How dare you... You vile CHEATER!

You turned to your computer and started typing, before it sang like a phone. Another lie.

Rage consumed me, and it was fire. You filthy LIAR! You rotten little BASTARD! When I’d move—I’d rip you apart by the joints! I’d savor every tear and pop from your body! I’d tear you open and drink from your viscera! I’d see you BURN! YOU’D BURN YOU’D BURN YOU’D BURN YOU’D BURN I’D KILL YOU I’D KILL YOU I’D KILL YOU I’D KILL YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I’D KILL YOU I’D KILL YOU I’D KILL YOU I’D KILL YOU!!!

Your name was said by your coward of a friend from your computer, but I was dripping with too much malice to process it, “What the hell? Where have you been, I’ve been calling you like crazy!”

“My phone broke,” Liar liar liar liar LIAR LIAR LIAR LIAR. “Did you quit yet?”

“Did I quit? No! I’m literally in the car right now heading to your place to see if you got MURDERED!”

“Don’t!” Your eyes fell on me, fear cracking through your lies. I’d tear your friend apart in front of you. I’d rub your face in their bloodied organs. I’d make you eat their flesh. “I’m gonna come to you. Look, it’s an insane story. You need to call your work and have them pick up the animatronic from my place. Before midnight. I’m not gonna be here. And then you need to quit. And probably skip town.”

“What?!”

True desperation seeped into your voice, the kind I longed to pull from you. You said your cowardly friend’s name, “Please! This is important. We can talk about it in person. I-” You swallowed. “I mean it. Please.”

You were pathetic. You were weak and wretched and stupid and dishonest and I was disgusted I even entertained the idea of humoring you. You would pay for betraying me...

The voice on your computer sighed, “Okay. Come soon.”

You exhaled in tense relief, “I’ll be right there.” You ended the call.

You closed your thin computer. There was silence. My eyes burned into yours because that’s all I could do.

“You’re mad.” You finally regarded me, you traitor. “Don’t be.”

Oh! Well, now that you’ve said that, EVERYTHING IS ALL BETTER NOW.

“I really did fix the protocol that makes you go towards sounds,” You held my gaze, and I hated you for it. I hated you so much. I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you- “And the storage protocol is only temporary. After tonight, it’ll be gone.”

This was worse. This wasn’t about stopping me. This wasn’t about some greater good you were attempting to achieve. This was about leaving me. You wanted to leave me. 

You heartless cheater.

“I don’t care what you do after this,” Why didn’t you care? What was it about me that left you unfeeling? Did I have to make you hate me for you to care? You were cruel. “But remember I helped you. It’s a fair trade. Your freedom for my freedom.”

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. And if you thought it was fair, you had no idea what I was giving up to let you go.

You held my face in your hands, and it burned me. How could you touch me after trying to leave me? How could you caress me as if you loved me when you were trying to get away? I wouldn’t let you—I couldn’t let you. You were mine. You were MINE! “Goodbye, Bonnie. I bet I’ll be seeing you on the news.”

Metal and flesh alike screamed internally in agony when you let me go. My rage was spoiled with Bonnie’s sorrow, but I felt it all twice. How could you leave me? After I decided you were mine, you left. After being willing to SPARE you, you left! You were heartless and cruel and weak and terrible and pathetic and mine and mine and mine and mine and mine and how could you leave me when I needed you?!

You closed the front door behind you and white noise never consumed me more. 

You wanted to convince me to let you go. You fabricated this ‘fair trade’ in an attempt to pacify me. To make it seem as though you weren’t worth the effort. You weren’t. You were a liar and cruel and wretched. That didn’t matter. You were mine. You couldn’t escape me. I wouldn’t allow it.

Both my metal and my rotting heart broke in the white noise of your home.

“...And they’re not home?” A deep voice said as your front door opened.

“Nah,” Another voice responded. “We can just load him up in the truck and haul him over. The new night guard is already on duty.”

“What time were we supposed to pick him up? I don’t like being around that thing at night...”

“Relax! They said at midnight, or something. Let’s just get this over with...”

“Alright... I swear, if this thing starts moving while we’re driving...”

> [PLAY MODE] = Active

> enter [GAME]: . . .

> Execute[TAG]

[idle-teen28]

I'm just gonna leave this masterpiece of an edit here...

(hint : it's in the audio)

[owlcomics101]

Task force 141 x Animatronic!Reader

Warnings: This is a task force fnaf AU, gore/blood, mentions of death and child murder (No children die in this, children’s death is only mentioned!), corpse, SFW (I am a minor), fluff, wholesome animatronic shenanigans, language (cussing), Reader is a withered bunny animatronic

GIF by: @thedgeofsleep

Context/Backstory: In this universe the task force was forced to be relived of duty due to ‘Mental issues’. Finding a job was hard for them but they were welcomed in with opened arms by Fazbear entertainment. You are a withered down bunny animatronic that watches the shows from a distance. Your ability to even function is a mystery to the team and it even intrigues them. They can’t help but be drawn to you. Your movements are so fluid, so human. Unlike the other Ghosts you are the only one that is more forgiving and gentle to the task force. And the task force will do anything to keep you from getting scraped and salvaged for parts. Reader’s spirit is an adult.

Price: Price is the security guard for this pizzeria location. He was the first to see the true nature of the animatronics. The true nature of you. He was afraid at first. Who wouldn’t be? But then he remembers of how more of a monster humanity is on the field than these worn down 80’s themed animatronics ever were or will be. He had already grown accustomed to the animatronics and their night mechanics and when he thought he had it all in the bag that’s when he met you. Price was off his game one night. He was tired, exhausted, heavy bags under his blood shot eyes. His job left him restless in the day time and constant nightmares and panic attacks. He was more afraid of what goes on in his head than the animatronics he keeps at bay. It was 5:50 am. His shift was almost over. Price was getting ready to leave but that’s when he saw you on the cameras. “The bloody hell?” He mumbled to himself. You were much older and withered than the others. You had a completely different theme. Your suit and character was cottage themed and aesthetic. You held a basket full of flower props with a small butterfly prop inside as well. You wore a worn sun hat that had holes for your floppy mechanical ears. Price was a bit panic. He wasn’t sure how to deal with you. Could he just simply close the door on you? Flash a light? It was already to late though, you were already at the door. Price pulled out his taser. He knows he shouldn’t destroy property but he will if he has to. Despite having a taser pointed at you, you held out one of the prop flowers from your basket. Price was…surprised to say the least but he cautiously took it anyways. “….Thanks love.” He mumbles as he looks down at the flower prop in his hands, but the time he looked back up. You were gone.

Gaz: Gaz was the day time security guard of this location. He ensured no one was stealing, breaking, or hurting anyone and/or the property. Despite this, he was still having a hard time adjusting back to a normal life like the others. Sometimes all the noise and ambiance of the pizzeria gets overwhelming. Especially if a balloon pops. Gaz one day was making his routes around the pizzaria when he saw a figure hiding behind some arcade machines. Gaz’s brows furrowed as he quickly went to investigate, his hand over his taser as he gets ready to peak around behind one of the arcade machines. Thats when he saw two rabbit ears poking up, but it wasn’t Bonnie’s it was yours. You were watching over everyone from a distance but also trying to hide from some of the children and adults. They sometimes tend to poke and prod at you and with your already fragile and withered body you were bound to break apart. Gaz was…puzzled at first. He’d never seen you around before. It made him question how he had never seen you around before. Nonetheless he tried getting you to stay in parts’n’service but you always escaped to go watch your friends Freddy and the gang preform. Gaz let out a sigh and he gave up trying to put you away. He’d made sure to keep you safe from the kids during his shift while you watch the show. During his break he’d play the arcade games and to his surprise he watches you play some of the games as well. He can never seem to beat you in Fruity Maze. You like to steal his hat and wear on top of your sun hat with a big smug look on your face. You were the perfect distraction from his worries and fears and he loved you for it.

Ghost: Ghost was the mechanic. He fixed up all the animatronics before and after shows. He never paid much attention to you at first. After all, you were just some broken down old animatronic still lingering around for some reason. Right? A kid one day accidentally pulled on Bonnie’s ears too hard and one of them snapped off. “Fuckin hell…” Ghost would mutter to himself. Cant these Damm kids keep their hands to themselves? The ear was completely broken and smashed. He couldn’t simply repair it and snap it back on. It was missing a joint. He looked around the pizzaria for that joint, digging through the spare parts bins and checking around stage and back stage, but to no avail. He then looked over to you. Sitting peacefully and all propped up in the corner. Holding your basket close to your furred chest. Ghost rolled his eyes with a huff. Now you were finally useful to him. He went over to you, studying your ears. All he had to do was take one of your ears and change the fabric color to match Bonnie’s. Simple enough right? That was until your head suddenly looked in his direction you purposely folded your ears flat against your head to keep out of his reach. This caught ghost by surprise. How were you even active??? Nonetheless you were active now and you weren’t gonna be used like some pile of scrap for everyone to take, take, and take! You slowly rose to your feet. Your hand tight around the flower basket prop you always held. As pissed as you were, unlike the others you had no intentions of harming anyone. You just wanted to haunt your suit in peace. Your feet shuffled beneath you as you slowly marched to the door. Ghost going wide eyed and immediately trying to stop you. You jumpscare him with a auditable screech to at least stun him enough that you could get out of the room. It worked but he recovered quickly then you expected. He grabbed your wrist as you tried to open the door with your free hand. He wasn’t going to let you get away. He couldn’t lose property it would’ve been bad on his part and plus he was…intrigued by you. You still didn’t want to hurt him. He was simply trying to do his job. But you didn’t wanna lose any more limbs. As a last resort your suit’s mouth slowly opened up. Ghost raised a brow, still tugging on you when his eyes widen in horror what was inside….a sickly pale hand reach out from your suit’s mouth. Your hand slowly prying Ghost’s hand off your suit’s wrist. Ghost was in too much shock. He’s seen plenty of horrifying and disturbing things in his line of work but…nothing like this. Once you got his hand off your suit’s wrist. Your sickly hand slowly returns back into your suit’s mouth as the suit mouth’s closes. You immediately pull away. Disappearing into the darkness of the building leaving Ghost on his knees hyperventilating with the hand you touch shaking. Nothing in this situation made sense but one thing was clear; you were alive and aware…..somewhat.

Soap: Soap was the slasher of this universe. The man behind the slaughter, but not what you think. He didn’t kill you, nor did he take the lives of the five children. He was a night guard like Price, but his methods were more….lethal than Price when it came to intruders. Whoever snuck in the pizzeria, never came back out. He used an old springlock animatronic suit he found in one of the safe rooms and used it to keep himself hidden because he knows Price is always watching on the cams. He never killed anyone innocent, only people who broke in at night with Ill intentions. He would hide the bodies in the spare suits in parts and service for Ghost to later find during his shift. Ghost does later catch on to what Soap is doing, he doesn’t pry into it. He just reminds Soap to loosen the spring locks when in use. The animatronics have tried attacking him plenty of times. Mistaking Soap for the man who took their lives when he uses the suit, but you never let them touch him. You are always watching from the shadows. Ensuring the animatronics didn’t even lay a paw on him. Because in your eyes, Soap was just defending the pizzeria, your forever home. Whenever Soap got dirty you would march over and pull out a old worn handkerchief from your flower basket and wipe the blood off as he would chuckle. There were times when he almost got fully springlocked and it always scared both you and Ghost. Ghost lets out a huff, deciding to make a suit for him that wouldn’t impale him at any given moment. While you finally got rid of the old suit. The suit’s head giving you the same cold and lifeless stare as the man looked when he took your life away.

[foxcantswim]

i’ve just been thinking about this scenario…

maybe where instead of vanessa reader steps in and takes the stab?

you can put where they get into a coma or they die..

thank u !!

also i love ur work.

<3

FNAF Movie / / Vanessa x F!Reader [Not Your Fault]

(gif by me)

It was supposed to be Vanessa getting stabbed by Afton. Not you... (aka you stop Afton from hurting Vanessa, but it backfires on you in the process) Content: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-relationship, one-sided love confession(?) Warnings: Blood, Stabbing(Reader), Trauma ig??? WC: 1,038 (sorry it's so short! maybe a part 2? not sure yet!)

Thank you anon <3 Love you~ Hope this is okay! (Left it slightly open ended to keep you on your toes)

PART 2

Vanessa stepped forwards, reaching to grab her father's arm. Your heart raced as you watched the interaction between the two, you noticed how Afton's hand was shaking as it tightened around the handle of the knife. His arm reared back, ready to attack. That's when you quickly reached to grab his arm, pulling him away from the blonde.

Your breath caught in your throat as the sharp hot pain rushed through your entire body. You glanced down to see the knife firmly embedded into your stomach, Afton's hand firmly gripping the handle of the blade. His other hand harshly gripped your shoulder, his glare was cold as he stared into your eyes.

"Y/N..." Vanessa's voice was barely even a whisper, tears flooding her eyes as she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing. Her father was about to hurt her, and you had taken the blow instead. Her whole body shook in fear and worry.

You expected to hit the cold hard floor, but a warmth soon surrounded you. Vanessa helped you to the floor, with you in her lap. She looked up briefly towards her father who had no emotion on his face, his eyes drifted towards the blood covered blade in his hand. He then turned to face towards Abby and the animatronics.

"H-Hey, hey," her voice was shaky as she looked over your whole body with panic, "Keep those eyes open for me, okay?"

She wasted no time in taking her sweater off, quickly pressing it down onto the wound. You tried to reach towards it as the pain increased, but your arm simply fell back weakly. You felt your breathing become shallow, you tried your hardest to keep your eyes open but they refused - flickering closed every so often.

"Y/N, please," Vanessa said, trying to hold back her sobs as she pressed harshly onto your wound to try and stop the bleeding the best she could. She did whatever she could to wrap the sweater around you and tighten it, "Why did you do that?!" she exclaimed, her hand coming up to hold your face. She didn't blame you, no. She blamed herself for getting you into this, "I'm so sorry, baby, I'm sorry," she choked on a sob as she leaned down to rest her forehead against yours.

You wanted to open your mouth to tell her it's not her fault, but of course your body refused. You felt your fingers go cold as you did your best to lean into Vanessa more, searching for any bit of warmth from her.

"I've got you," she promised, still shaking as she held you.

That's when William's voice pierced her ears, "Vanessa!" he exclaimed, "Get these stupid things away from me. NOW."

That's when Vanessa realised what was happening. Abby was glaring at her father as the animatronics walked towards him. They were finally seeing him for who he really was.

"Vanessa," his voice was strong, "You will listen to me."

Tears flowed down her cheeks as she looked at him, his gaze was cold. She gulped harshly before simply closing her eyes and turning her head away. Her name left his mouth once again, but she didn't react.

He had intended on her hurting Abby. He had intended on hurting his own daughter, too. And he had actually hurt you. There was no way she was listening to him anymore. She wouldn't let him hurt anyone ever again. He was a monster. But he was still her father, and she couldn't stop herself from loving him. She refused to look at the gruesome fate he was about to receive. She kept on telling herself that it was for the best.

Her eyes finally opened to look back down at you. That was when she realised that your eyes were finally closed, your body limp against hers.

She hugged your body close, tears staining your shirt as she buried her face into your neck, "Come on, Y/N. I love you. Come on. W-We haven't had enough time together," she couldn't stop herself from pressing a kiss to your forehead. Her heart hammered in her chest at the fear of losing you.

She had known you for quite a while now, when you had started to work the night shift almost a year ago. Truthfully, she didn't like you when she first met you. She thought you were just trouble. But after a few weeks she had fallen for you, hard. The two of you weren't really sure what you two were relationship wise. Sure you had kissed a couple times and been extremely intimate, but there were never any labels or confessions of love or anything like that.

Vanessa already started to have so many regrets as she held you as tightly as she could.

Eventually, the animatronics had dragged her father away. The room around her started to crumble and shatter, lights falling from the the ceiling. She was about to sit here with you until the very end, she couldn't leave you and her body refused to move on its own. That was when Mike appeared by her side, helping her up with you in the process. He quickly offered to carry you in his arms, Vanessa could hardly see through the tears in her eyes as she helped him walk. Abby was quickly on their heels.

Everyone made their way out of the pizzeria, moving as quickly as they could into the parking lot.

Mike and Vanessa put you into the back of Vanessa's patrol car. She climbed into the backseat, Abby sat in the passenger seat in silence. Mike quickly got into the driver's seat and started up the car.

"Mike-" Vanessa said, her voice getting cut off by her own sob. She continued to hold you close in the confined space of the back of the car.

"It will be okay," he reassured, his own voice slightly shaky, "She's breathing, Vanessa. She'll be fine."

He didn't trust his own words. But all they could do was be hopeful.

She had a shirt on under that sweater you freaks ;)

Taglist: @marvelwomen-simp ; @emiliaisdead

PART 2

[slut4megantheestallion]

(There's a severe lack of Willam afton fanfics from the game mostly talking about movie! William afton, I love him, but I'm tired of seeing him on this app, where William is afton in the game, novel, etc? like... I can't wait for fnaf 2 movie tho fnaf has been fixated on my mind right now.. mostly William and Michael) - authors note