#springtrap x you

[glitchysquidd]

Pose For The Photo!!

[mimogutz]

Somebunny loves you...

[fandomwritingbit]

💀Hallowe'en Special💀

After Hours,

Springtrap x fem reader

Synop: Sneaking into a horror attraction after dark was really fucking stupid and you're about to find out just how much. 

A/n: I totally get that this probably isn't everyone's cup of tea, so please be warned, also bare in mind writing for Springtrap is completely new for me.

Warnings: Springtrap/william afton. Explicit non-con/rape. Violence. Threat. Themes of kidnapping.

Credit to image creator.

It was everything you expected and more.

The building reeked of lack of care, practically falling apart with all its paint peeling and the half illuminated sign. It looks creepy as fuck. That's why you came. 

You love to be scared. And this place has the potential to be truly terrifying. 

You spoke to a friend of yours who told you they'd done exactly this a week or so ago. And it was soooo much better after hours, when you can go where you want to and do what you want to; which in your case is dick around with the animatronics. They were supposed to come along as well but flaked out last minute, leaving you standing in front of the place on your lonesome. But you’re not one to be defeated by a shit friend not showing, so you’re still going to go in.

And so, with your phone torch lighting your way you go to the back of the building. And unsurprisingly you're greeted with a high fence with its gate chained closed. That isn't going to stop you though. Smirking, you throw your backpack over the fence and then slide your phone under it, torch up so you can sort of see what you're doing. 

One foot wedges in the metal, the toe of your shoe just able to fit through the diamond-shaped gap enough to give you purchase, letting you slot your other foot in the gap a little higher up. It was easy really, almost like they wanted you to hop over it, no anti-climb or spikes or anything. At the top of the fence you sit for a moment, wishing you kept hold of your phone for a photo here, illuminated by the solitary light of the building sign. Oh well, there's always the opportunity on the way out. 

You jump down, careful to land with bended knees, if you hurt yourself you wouldn’t exactly be able to call an ambulance. From there you dust yourself off for a minute and grab all your stuff, wincing when the harsh light of your phone catches your eye. 

"And now the fun begins." You whisper to yourself, as you slip around the building, quickly laying your eyes on the back door, which according to your mate was easy pickings, quite literally. Shoving your makeshift kit into the lock, it only takes a few moments of jiggling in before, hey presto, the bitch clicks open. It really was too easy. 

Inside, you flash your torch around this hallway, thinking to yourself that it looks like a 'back-stage' area with all the clutter and, god, the dust, which now flitted through the air disturbed by your movement. Honestly, with the amount of it caked on everything you wouldn’t think that this place was operational. Box after box lay on the chequered tile floor and you follow them down the corridor, checking door handles along your way. 

One opens to reveal a small cupboard filled with toilet roll and cleaning supplies. Another to one with stacks of papers, documents of some kind, probably accounts or some shit, but seriously who keeps paper copies nowadays? But the third one was the most interesting one. 

The metal door was a labour to open, scraping into the floor over a mark from others doing the same thing, the room was dark but you can tell instantly that it’s much bigger than the previous two. You use your phone torch to scan through the pitch black, revealing the jackpot. Animatronic heads are mounted on the wall like the room belongs to some kind of a  game hunter. Pointing the light down, you see the rest of the beasts, huge chest cases and clumpy-looking feet littered along the floor And in the corner the skeletons, light bouncing off them back at you, their eyes reflecting red. 

“Ho-ly shit…” You say into the darkness, grinning from ear to ear. This place was fucking insane, in the absloute best way. You waste no time inserting yourself in the room, placing huge metal heads over your shoulders and snapping a few pics looking like some demonic purple rabbit. Then some more with your arm draped over these endo-skeleton things, these took you a bit longer to build the courage to touch because fuck, their eyes were staring right into the depths of your soul. But once you did touch them and they didn’t pounce on you, you felt reassured enough to tackle anything else this creepy attraction would throw at you. 

After about ten minutes in your photoshoot, you leave the room wanting to see more than the behind the scenes stuff, you may as well see all the bits the normies get to see. Looking online earlier you knew all about the set up, creepy 80s looking corridors designed to mirror an old pizzeria chain, where apparently some kids had gone missing. Patrons could even sit inside the faux-security office taking shifts trying not to jump out of their skins as robotic creatures stalked them. Now that, you’re dying to see. 

It takes you no time to find the corridors leading to the security office, on the way discovering the dormant animatronics. One a seven foot fucking teddy bear, another a beat up looking rabbit. Golden- or maybe green, it’s hard to tell in the absence of light. This one is particularly nerve-wracking, something about its stance, it’s head tilted to the side but its eyes looking up. 

“Fuuuuck,” you giggle, angling your head to look into the creature’s mouth, open only slightly. “the designers did a good job on you, shit…” It’s only when your face gets very close to it, the robot shifts, its metallic body struggling loudly in the otherwise silent building. You flinch hard, body shoving itself away from it, thudding against the wall hard enough to wind yourself. It quickly halts, the movement dying when its head fully rears. 

You breathe out shakily, laughing at your own stupidity, clearly you triggered some kind of motion sensor and paid the price for it. You shake your head at the beast, moving away from it down the corridor and into the office, careful not to get too close to anything else that could try to scare the shit out of you. You finally manage it, and step into the office through a doorway without the actual door part, an excited smile spreading across your face. This is so fucking cool, you think, crouching down to look at a monitor on the desk, then deciding to sit in the grimy swivel chair in front of it. You then notice that the desk has drawers in it and move to look through them, an eagerly curious part of you taking over. The top one is full of a tonne of random shit sellotape, paperclips, a computer mouse and its ancient cord. The one underneath though, sticks, you rive it hard to try and open it, even more intrigued that it wouldn’t open. You jiggle it hard, the rattle echoing in the large room, but your efforts amount to fuck all and it doesnt move an inch. 

You sigh, calling the drawer a bastard under your breath and recline a little in the seat, closing your eyes for a moment. When you open them you nearly jump six feet in the air at the sight of that fucking animatronic from earlier, the yellow bunny, standing in the the doorway, it’s huge head peeking round the corner, staring directly at you. How in god’s name didn’t you hear the fucking thing move? It must weigh loads and it looks old, so there’s no way it can move silently.

“God, this place.” you say, to yourself, to the room, it doesn’t matter. You’ve had enough scares for tonight, it’s probably best if you bail before you trigger any other attractions. No longer smiling, you stand up hesitantly, moving slowly and consciously. Some kind of dread now hanging in the air because this fucking rabbit is really creepy.

You walk up to the door and carefully squeeze yourself through the gap, desperate to not touch the thing. Managing it, you outwardly sigh, that was a small mercy because some loud noise from the robot would probably give you a heart attack right now. You step away from it, ready to get yourself out of here. But the second your back is turned the most agonising sound makes you freeze. 

Breathing. Raspy, pained, human, fucking breathing. 

Your turning around is prevented by the cold grip on your throat, backing you up against its metal body, its lack of body heat making goosebumps spring over you instantly. Uselessly, you push against its hold, instinctively wanting to get away from it and the reality of what was happening. But your struggling just makes it grip you harder, thick plastic fingers tight on the base of your throat. 

A deeply coarse sound vibrates from the creature, a breathy sound that takes you a while to realise is laughter. Laughter cold and mean, making your heart hammer in your chest. “What stupid little girl snoops around in the dark on her own?” Each word sounds painful, it must take the thing sheer will to push past such agony just to taunt you.

You tremble, “What- what are you?” the words so quietly terrified you can’t believe they’re your own. There’s no way this is part of the attraction. Just no way anyone would program this to grab patrons so violently. This was something all too wrong and all too real. 

Without warning or hesitation the creature uses your throat as leverage to slam you against the wall, there’s no room for protest or struggling, it’s power is inhumanly strong. You cry out when your body hits the concrete, its unfeeling coolness stark contrast to the fretful heat coming from you. The robot’s head cranes down above yours, a subtle clicking alerting you to every slight movement. You’re winded, energy trickling down your face as tears when you’re dawned to the terrifying conclusion that you’re trapped.

It finally answers you, the raspy voice coiling your stomach in fear. “Your worst fucking nightmare.” The creature must hear you sob in response because again it- he laughs, it’s cold and mocking. Only stopping when he takes the time to parrot your desperate fearful noises back at you, making himself laugh again. It’s becoming clear to you that this must be a person, someone inside this awful thing, an employee gone rogue, trying to scare the living daylights out of people stupid enough to break in… maybe. But that voice…

“You’re hurting me.” You choke out, unsure of what you’re trying to accomplish. Internally reasoning that people have empathy and people can be talked down, you hope that he’ll let you go but it seems more and more unlikely by the second. The hand on the back of your head flexes, tangling in your hair and yanking your head upwards so you can glimpse him out of the corner of your eyes and the sight is just awful. 

The inexpressive face comes close as the man inside hisses through the rabbit mask, “You don’t know the meaning of hurt.”  

“Look,” you whimper, “I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have come here.” The words are near incomprehensible through your tears. “God, I shouldn’t have come here…” You repeat, body convulsing under the monster’s grip. Your crying is loud in the corridor, echoing off the hard floors and mirroring the heartbreaking sound back at you. You're lost in it for a couple of seconds whilst this thing seems to just enjoy the sound, before the air is knocked from your lungs by the creature’s hand trailing down the arch of your back, all the way down to your behind where he grabs a hard handful of your flesh. It’s so unexpected that you just stare at what you can see of him over your shoulder, now silently shaking. The action turns your stomach, it doesn’t hurt but it’s rough and riddled with intent. 

His other hand moves, turning you around before again shoving you to the wall and caging you in with his massive frame, using that insane strength to push you down to your knees. “No,” He almost coos, “You shouldn’t have. But don’t worry… I won’t let you go to waste.” 

Whilst you're still making sense of the words, the monster grabs itself at the waist, huge fingers prying between the metal plates and rummaging until he frees his very human and very real penis. You don't want this and the disdain is evident in your eyes, but a dark part of you thinks that to please him will make him let you go. He holds himself before you, there's no illusion even with the suit that he's huge and the thought scares you.

The metallic hand in your hair pulls your head towards him and you obey, fear making you compliant. He smears himself against your lips, precum already leaking from his tip and laying warm on your face. He doesn't have to tell you to open your mouth, the rough tilting of your head is enough, and you hesitantly part your lips, flinching when he yanks you towards him. Your eyes involuntarily close when he shoves his cock in your mouth, he doesn't hold back, pushing himself as far in your throat as he can before you gag, your hands frenzied grabbing at the creature's hips. He pulls back for a moment before shoving back in repeatedly, forcing your jaw open to accept him each time. 

He grunts, burying himself inside your throat and holding you still. "You'll have to do better than that, if you're scared of me hurting you." The snarl in his voice makes your eyes wide with realisation of what he wants. You obey without question, hollowing your cheeks and sucking him as good as you can, his grip relenting enough to let you. Swirling your tongue on the underside of his shaft with only the goal of getting this over with as soon as possible. It’s like he knows and the huge hand in your hair slows your movement, forcing you to take him slow and deep, revelling in the feeling of your hot mouth and the frantic way your eyes dart around. 

The salty taste of his big cock stirs you, and each time he uses your mouth it makes your heat betray the pain of his brutal hold. It’s instinctual and even though your mind is against it your body is reacting. Trying to push the conflicting feelings from your mind you continue sucking, an eagerness spurring you on when he groans, he’s close, you can tell from the leniency in his grip. But just as you’re getting your hopes up that he’s going to finish, he pulls your lips from him, making you look up at the terrifying form above you. The sudden dread that sizzles through you is inexplicable, it’s almost as though you forgot how horrifying this costume was and the reminder shocks your core. 

You look so frightened kneeling there, your pupils tiny and your lips still parted, saliva dripping down your chin that underneath the mask he smirks cruelly, the action painful enough to make his cock twitch. With how warm and slick your mouth was, he can only imagine how tight your little cunt is going to be, fuck it’s been so long since he last broke a pretty thing like you. He’s going to savour it. 

“Stand up.” The monster commands, the raspy voice insanely harsh. You obey without question your legs trembling as all trace of hope leaves you, all chance of this ending any time soon trickled between your legs. As soon as you reach your feet his large hand grabs your shoulder shoving you forwards, back towards that old guard’s office you left only minutes ago, but it felt like years. Stumbling through the doorway, the brief idea of running flashes through your mind, but you’re too scared, you don’t want to make what this man was going to do worse. 

You don’t have the chance anyway, with crazy strength he catches your arm, forcing your body down onto the desk in front of you. A pathetic whimper leaves your lips at the rough action, your whole body still shaking. Once he has you where he wants you, the creature’s huge hands rake over your body, no gentleness or intimacy in his touch, just pure malicious lust. He gabs at your breasts, fingers digging harshly into the sensitive skin, then roughly pulling up the fabric of your shirt, so roughly the material tears. You’d be cold if not for the raging adrenaline in your veins. At the sight of your naked torso the mascot bears down on you, no emotion in its dead eyes, “Such a stupid girl, coming here, getting yourself in trouble. Is this what you wanted, huh?” To punctuate the question he takes hold of your face, squeezing your cheeks so that you let out a shaky gasp. 

You wrap your fingers around his wrist, pulling against the hold that was making your teeth hurt, but he doesn’t move an inch. At your silence he grabs your left tit pinching your nipple so hard your body raises from the desk to try and escape it. “Huh?” He snarls again. And you try to shake your head, but with no way to move you’re forced to speak. 

“No-o.” Your voice cracks, your answer making the creature above you grind his cock against your thigh, the godforsaken suit preventing him from touching himself, his own unique fucking torture. His mocking spurs a sudden surge of fight  and sees your legs rise and kick hard at his chest, the dull thud of striking metal echoing in the dark room. It’s useless, and his laughing is only proof. He holds your legs against his chest with one hand, using the other to tug down your legging and the panties you were wearing underneath, taking them completely from your body and discarding them on the dirty floor. 

Looking down at your wet cunt he near growls, such a slick little fucktoy that walked right into his grasp. Cold metallic fingers trace over your entrance, pulling your folds apart to see the trembling of your hole, your unwanted wetness coating his fingers. You hate yourself for being aroused but maybe it’s for the best, maybe it’ll make this more bearable. You quiver when his digit pokes inside you the costume fingers large enough to stretch you open when he sinks in, you groan the invasion pressing against a coil in your core. Seeing how your pussy swallowed his finger so well, tight around him when he fucked it in and out made him pull away, needing his hands to hold your thighs down as he rubbed the head of his dick against your entrance. Desperate to feel the grip of your walls on one of the only parts of him that remained intact. 

He shoves into you roughly, forcing your walls to accept him, all air in your lungs leaving in a suffered groan. He’s thick and long and pushing to the hilt you feel more than full, like he was taking you over, touching all of you at once. The stretch burned but the pain quickly dulled when he began rutting into you, a selfishly brutal pace that had you helplessly gasping. He fucks you as deep as the suit will allow him, the waist of the costume slamming into your hips so hard the desk thudded against the floor. 

It’s like you’re outside of your body looking at the scene, feeling his hands move to lift your body from the desk, holding you and manipulating the angle of his pounding to suit him. Shoving into the part of you that makes you scream and your juices spill around the base of his cock. It doesn't feel real, but at the same time is brutally so an unwilling pleasure seizing hold of you and making you clench around his length. He groans,not stopping his pace as you begin to flutter around him, what a filthy fucking thing you are to enjoy this, he thinks, the thought making him fuck you harder. Forceful thrusts that quickly beginning to stutter as the monster nears his end, bursting inside you like an animal and stuffing you full of him. You’re dirty, used and broken, letting the cum seep around him, dripping down onto the desk. 

He holds you still for what feels like hours before dropping you down onto the slick tabletop, leaving you to crumple on the floor. There’s no coherent thoughts in your mind, just a frightening emptiness as you get to your knees and crawl over to where he threw your clothes, hands shaking as you try to gather them up. He chuckles at your form, bruises already beginning to show on your hips and thighs, before slowly walking to you, a cold metal foot shoving you over, your body thudding into the floor. 

“Now, where do you think you’re going?”

A/n: Here it is. My second Hallowe'en event, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I know this is very different to the kind of thing I usually write, but heck, why not try something new. X

Stay tuned for my third fic!

[alexthesillybilly]

Jus fluffy springtrap x reader stuff :)) this is like the fluffiest thing I've ever written 😭❤ enjoy!!

You run your hands through the matted fur of Springtrap's suit. From what he tells you, he can't feel it all that much as his senses aren't fully connected with the outside of the suit, but he can still feel it.

"I'm tired." You say. It's winter now and you've been staying up later than you probably should. Springtrap makes a soft grunt and speaks.

"We can sleep. I don't mind."

For him, it's not technically sleep, but more like a robotic powering off, but it's similar.

"Mhm." You nod and reach to shut off the light. "Wait." You lay down and adjust yourself, then turn off the light. You can still see the glow of his eyes signaling his happiness.

"Here," you place your hand on the fur of his head again and motion for him to come closer. He does, and softly lays his head down on your chest. The pressure from him is calming and you can't help but watch him as he drifts into his powered off state. The soft sound of your heartbeat is enough to make him feel more human than he had in years. Even if it wasn't his, to have someone let him this close to be able to hear it was the most human he'd ever felt.

Laying your hand behind his ears, you shut your eyes, and soon fell asleep.

You'd both be there for eachother when you woke up.

[oftenwantedafton]

A New Afton - Stepfather Steve Raglan/William Afton x Stepdaughter Reader

Chapter 7

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - sexual content, daddy kink, praise kink, mild breeding kink, Springtrap suit sex

Also available on AO3

You awaken to find Steve watching you.

It’s Friday morning. You've almost made it to the weekend. Tomorrow you’ll be able to sleep in and spend the entire day with your stepfather.

“Good morning, Daddy.”

He smiles at you, soft and lazy. “Good morning, Princess.”

“How long have you been awake?”

“Just a few minutes.” He reaches out to brush back some errant strands of hair. Traces the curve of your cheek. Smoothes over your bottom lip. You suddenly remember you’d gone to bed without panties.

You push back the covers and climb on top of him, straddling his hips, your hands shoving the fabric of his shirt up. You trace the patterns of his scars and grind yourself down, feeling his clothed erection pressing against your bare pussy.

“You really want Daddy’s cock inside you, don’t you baby girl?”

You nod, biting your lip. “Yes, Daddy. I need you to fuck me.” You can feel the wetness of your arousal dampening the fabric of his pajama pants.

Steve groans, glancing at the alarm clock.

You know it’s time for both of you to get washed and dressed and leave the house. You don’t want to stop.

“Tonight, I promise you. When we have time and we don’t have to rush.”

You sigh, ceasing your rocking motion. You know you’re pouting. Your stepfather sits up, hugging you against him. “It’s your first time, baby girl. Need to make it special for you. It’s not because I don’t want to, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“That’s my good girl. Let’s go get ready.”

***

This is the longest shift of William Afton’s life.

He normally stands and shakes his clients’ hands, guiding them to their seats and walking them back to the door.

Not today. There’s no fucking way because his erection will not relax. He’s finally going to have you tonight. That tight pussy that’s never known another man’s cock, all for him. You’d been so sexy, grinding yourself against that stuffed rabbit the night before. Rubbing your bare pussy against him this morning.

A knock at the door. He tucks his chair further under the desk to conceal what’s happening further down his body and forces a smile on his face. “Come in.”

***

You’re waiting for Steve when he opens the front door.

Without hesitation he pushes you back against it while closing it. Bends to kiss your mouth. Your hands twine around his neck. You’re still in your school uniform. He drops his briefcase and car keys on the floor. “Hey, sweet girl.”

“Daddy…” He hears it in your voice. The raw ache. The hunger.

“Come upstairs with me. I want to fuck you in my bed.” Somewhere along the line it had become that. No longer one shared with your mother. Just his.

And now yours, too.

***

You follow your stepfather up the stairs. This was it. It was finally happening. Your heart is pounding. Your pussy has been throbbing all day, panties soaked. You want him so badly.

He pushes you onto the bed. One hand drags roughly against your school blouse and the threads securing the buttons loosen, the bits of plastic scattering. You’re already working on the one holding your skirt fastened on the side. Steve removes his glasses and tosses them on the nightstand, then unknots his tie and unfastens his cuffs and pulls everything over his head all at once, undershirt and dress shirt together. You unhook your bra and drop it on the floor. He unfastens his belt. Pants and briefs shoved down together simultaneously. His shoes are next to yours by the front door.

You start to remove your knee highs but he halts you. “Leave them on,” he says. His voice is so coarse. It’s the desire chafing it, you think. His own pair of socks he tugs off unceremoniously. His palm caresses your covered calf, making sure the edge of your sock is properly pulled into place. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing one knee. You touch his hair. “Lie back, baby.”

You obey, flopping down somewhere near the center of the bed, shoving blindly at the pillows beneath you until they cradle your head properly. His fingers curl over the waistband of your panties and pull them off of you. You part your legs for him.

“It’s going to hurt in the beginning…” he cautions, resting a hand on one thigh.

“I know. I don’t care. I want you.”

“After that you’ll love it, baby, I promise.”

You nod, watching him as he moves, positioning himself at your entrance.

***

William could have prepped you a little first, of course; used his mouth and his fingers. But that’s not what he wants. He wants to violate you at your absolute tightest. He sees how wet you are, how your eyes plead with him, and he stops hesitating and pushes into you, immediately feeling you tense and clamp down, your body resisting his intrusion. You wince and suck in a deep breath.

“Relax, baby girl. It’ll be easier for you. It’s ok, I’ve got you.” He pushes a little further in. Christ did you feel like heaven. So snug around his fat cock. Another whimper of pain, but you’re being brave about it. A little further. Another gasp. He shoves the rest of the way in.

“Daddy!” Your back arches, lifting your torso off the mattress.

“Okay, baby. You did it. I’m all the way inside you.” He pauses there a moment, just taking in the sensation of being fully sheathed. Moves out a little, then thrusts back in.

“Oh, you feel so good.” He lowers himself down, shifting his weight onto one forearm, kissing your mouth. “So tight around me, baby. So perfect.” You’re still rigid. Your mouth is stiff against his lips. “Relax, sweet girl.” He moves his cock back and forth, never quite in and never all the way out, just trying to get you accustomed to the feel of him. Gentle thrusts. He caresses your cheek and smooths your hair. You’re getting wet again. Your hips are moving slightly, your mouth now responsive. “There you go, Princess. You’re such a good girl.” He moves a little faster, now withdrawing further and shoving back inside to the hilt. “Fuck, baby. Look at how good you’re taking me. That pussy was made for me.” His free hand finds your breast and begins massaging it, pinching and rolling your nipple. “You’re so, so gorgeous.” Your sounds have evolved. No longer pained. You’re starting to enjoy it. He feels you grinding back against him, lifting to meet him.

Time to change positions.

***

You thought you’d been prepared, but that first feeling of your stepdad’s cock entering you had really hurt.

The burn and stretch of it. You’d thought at one point you’d just break around him. There was no way he could fit.

But he had. And that sharp pain had started to become muted because there was a new feeling suppressing it.

It felt good fucking Steve.

He’d been right as usual. Once you’d stopped tensing up things had gotten a lot better. His cock slid in and out smoother. You like the feel of it pummeling you deep inside. He’s still holding back; you know it will get rougher later. You want it to be.

His body shifts, no longer hovering over you. He lifts your stockinged legs so they rest on his shoulders. He thrusts forward and oh, this is new. You like the angle he’s hitting you at inside. Like the sound of his body slapping against yours. It drives each moaning breath from your lungs. You see a trail of perspiration leak down from his forehead. You reach for his hand and he locks your fingers together, watching the reactions play across your features as the pleasure washes over you.

Another change in position. You’re seated on top, straddling him like you had that morning. You rub the head of his cock against your clit before guiding it inside of you. It’s a little awkward until you get yourself at just the right spot to sink down onto him. Oh, God. This was amazing.

He smiles at you. “Feels good, doesn’t it, baby girl?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you gasp. He wedges his hand against you, his thumb stroking your clit and the sensation heightens. “Daddy…”

“Look at you riding that big cock so well.” You mash yourself against his hand, grinding down on his prick. You’re lightheaded. Your nails dig into his ribs. His hips batter against you, shoving him deeper inside.

***

William’s got you bent over in front of him now. He slaps your ass cheek and squeezes the globe of it. Pushes back into you. Your cunt is absolutely drooling. His hips snap sharply and you moan as his cock drills into you, making you lose your balance as he shoves you against the edge of the mattress.

He fucks you hard for a few minutes, then eases up. Enjoys every gasp and moan and murmur and sigh. Slaps you again, harder, bringing color to your skin. He could easily finish this way but it’s not how he wants to. Not this time. He wants to see your face when he takes you apart.

Afton pauses just long enough to indicate he wants you to move. Climbs back on top of you and slides right back in. His mouth covers yours. You’re both drenched in sweat. He tastes the salt of it on your lips. He snakes a hand between you to stroke your clit again. Sees you frown and gasp. “Cum for me, sweet girl.”

“Daddy…” The hand you rest on his shoulder tightens, nails digging in. Your eyes are locked with his. “I love you, Daddy.”

The words surprise him; his climax arriving earlier than he’d anticipated. He feels you spasming around him, milking every last drop of cum from him.

He takes his time in the shower with you afterwards. Gently cleaning your sore sex. Planting little kisses on your shoulder underneath the spray of the shower. He makes you pasta for dinner and you put another horror movie on. He cradles your body against his. You’re drowsy.

“Baby girl?”

“Mmm…yes Daddy?” Barely awake. Struggling so hard.

“I love you, too.”

You sigh happily. Afton closes his eyes.

***

Steve promises you an unrestricted day of shopping at the mall to begin your Saturday.

He helps you choose a new skirt and a slinky dress. Several sets of lingerie, one of which is lavender lace. You know purple is his favorite color so you’re not surprised. A necklace that’s a silver heart that rests on the notch at the base of your throat.

It’s pouring out today, one of those rare days when Hurricane finally gets some humidity built up into the atmosphere. Your stepfather pulls off the road. You’d gotten changed in one of the restrooms at the mall before you’d left. You’re down to just the new lingerie and the necklace now. The rain drums on the roof of the car.

“Back seat,” he says. You squeal when the downpour strikes your unprotected skin. You lie down. He climbs over you, grinning. A drop of rainwater falls from his hair onto your lips. He kisses you. Touches the pendant that’s shifted to lie against your throat and the smile softens.

His thumb hooks in the crotch of your new panties and he pulls them to the side. His cock eases in. His breath huffs beside your cheek. “You like it, sweet girl?”

“I love it,” you reply.

“Yeah, me too.” His pace is unhurried. Just gentle but deep thrusts. You feel the edge of the material dragging along his shaft with each thrust. “Going to fill you up so good…”

“I want it.” You knot your fingers in his damp hair. “Breed me, Daddy.”

His steady pace falters. You’ve surprised him. He’s only mentioned it the one time. “You want that?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“You want me to get that belly all swollen? Make a baby with you?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Your pussy throbs around him. Your womb very much likes the idea. You tighten your legs around his waist. “As many as you want. I’d give them to you,” you whisper by his ear, lapping at it. “I wish I was your wife. I want to be yours forever.”

His face moves so he can see your features, his hips still. “You really mean it, don’t you?”

You nod, touching his cheek, the graying beard smooth beneath your fingers. The rain is drumming louder now.

He says your name and thrusts back inside. You roll your hips against him. His mouth is rough against yours. “Oh God, baby, I want…I want…”

The words are lost in the noise of the storm. You come undone. He follows.

***

Later that night you return to Freddy’s.

Your stepfather leads you by the hand into a security office. There are stacks of monitors on the desk. You look a question at him.

“You’ve got to wait here for your surprise, okay?” He drags a large hardback chair from the corner of the room into the center. You sit. He loosens his tie and wraps it around your head, blindfolding you. You’d been wondering why he’d dressed up today. “No peaking,” he whispers beside your ear.

“Okay, Daddy.”

A few minutes go by. A few more. You squirm a little in your seat. You hear footsteps, but they’re not like Steve’s. These are heavy sounding. Metallic. You can hear mechanical joints whirring with each step.

“Daddy?”

“It’s okay, baby girl.” His voice sounds different. As if it’s being processed through something artificial. Modulated. You feel his hand on your cheek. That, at least, seems normal. Then it’s just as quickly replaced with a larger one. Cold. Steel or something like it. “Stand up for me, Princess.”

You rise to your feet uncertainly.

“Turn around. Hold onto the chair here. Now bend over. That’s it. Lift up your skirt, sweet girl.”

You obey with trembling hands. You feel the metal hand grab your panties and pull. They surrender instantly beneath the force he’s exerting, torn from your body. You can feel the air on your exposed pussy. The unencased hand caresses your cheek. A quick drag through your arousal. You whimper and squirm. You hear a foreign sound. A compartment opened? You’re still struggling to process what’s happening.

The metal hand rests on your lower spine. You shiver. Then you feel Steve’s cock plunge into your sex.

“Daddy…” It’s not just his erection pressing into you. He’s wearing something. Something soft draped over something unyielding. It’s fur touching your skin. Artificial fur, like the plush bunny you’d masturbated with the other night. He was wearing one of the animatronic suits.

“—Wait, Daddy, no. The springlocks—”

“It’s okay baby. I know what I’m doing…mmm….ah. You feel so good. You’re so wet for your Daddy…” He begins pumping into you hard and fast. He likes wearing the suit, you realize. It’s erotic for him. “You like it, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy.” You’re not entirely sure how you feel about it. It is kind of hot, but you’re worried about his safety. It seems like an awful lot of risky movement. You don’t really understand how the springlocks work, but you think they weren’t meant for this level of activity.

“Baby,” he says.

“I’m worried,” you admit.

He sighs, the noise strange in whatever headpiece he’s wearing. “Alright. Let’s try this then. Straighten up. Take a step over here. That’s it. Step out of your shoes. I’m going to sit down. I want you to climb into my lap. But facing away from me. Okay?”

“Can I take the blindfold off?”

“Yes, I suppose you can.”

You pull the tie off.

There’s a seven foot tall yellow rabbit standing in front of you.

The costume has seen better days. There are rents in the fabric and deep gouges in the metal in places. Part of one ear is missing. The teeth that are meant to be parted in a perpetual smile seem more like a rictus grin. The eyes are bright white lights. You know exactly why he’d wanted you blindfolded. It was more than a little intimidating.

You watch as he presses something on the side of the headpiece and lifts it free, setting it on the desk nearby. His hair is damp. It must be hot inside the suit. He sits in the chair with more grace than you would have thought possible give how cumbersome the robotic suit looked.

“Come give me a kiss, baby girl.” You much prefer this voice. His own face. You bend and kiss his mouth. “Ride my cock.”

You’re not sure about it. It takes some maneuvering. Trying to balance yourself, especially facing away from him. You bare feet dig into the furry thighs. The metal hand braces you against the torso of the suit. The plastic buttons meant to simulate formal attire press into you. Steve’s hand assists you in aiming his cock into your pussy. You’re nearly there. You lower yourself slightly. One foot slips and his cock is buried in you.

“Fuck, baby girl,” your stepfather hisses at the feeling of being fully inside you again. You push yourself up, then back down again. The artificial hand holding you helps you maintain your balance, aids in your movement. You’re starting to get into a rhythm.

You’re starting to enjoy it.

The places where the fur touches your bare skin. The places where the metal presses warmly against you. It is like fucking a giant stuffed animal after all.

“Daddy…it feels good…”

“I knew you’d like it, Princess. I know what my little girl needs.”

You continue to impale yourself on his cock. The metal hand across your chest moves to your breasts, sliding inside your shirt to touch them. You wonder wildly in a lust filled moment if he could fuck you with those metal digits or if it would ruin the suit.

His encased hips snap upward. It’s starting to be a lot of movement again. You should be more cautious. But it feels too good now. You’re keening and mewling when you shove yourself onto him. “I’m gonna cum, Daddy, I’m…Daddy…” You make good on your promise. Steve grunts, hips stuttering and you feel him spill inside you.

***

You’re seated in the car outside of the closed restaurant. There’s a foreign taste to your stepdad’s throat. From the mascot suit, you think. Metallic. Musty. Something old that’s been waiting for a long time to be rediscovered.

“You had a good time, baby?”

Your lips part from his neck and you nod, smiling. The smile wavers when you think about how tomorrow is the last night of the weekend. You’ll have to get up early for school. You’ll have to be away from him the entire day. And in another week, your mother will return.

“What’s wrong?”

Your face is such an open book. “I’m just thinking about how fast this week went by. And before you know it another will pass. And then…”

“I’m not giving you up. You’re mine. That’s not going to change.” He reaches for one of your hands and squeezes it.

“But…but how will we…what are going to do?”

“I don’t know yet,” he replies. “I’ll figure something out.”

You don’t see how. He’s married to your mother. It’s really as simple as that. Your only other option is to try to sneak around. Risk getting caught. And then what?

“Princess. It’s not for you to worry about, okay? Like the springlocks. You need to trust me.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt, either.” He leans over to kiss you. First a chaste brush. Feather light. Then firmer. Your pussy tingles again. Forever hungry for him, never sated.

He exits the car and you follow. Lays you out on the hood. Licks you until you climax again. You wonder if he can smell the suit on you; taste it.

He kisses your mouth before you leave the parking lot and you have your answer.

***

Sunday morning. You’ve slept in. You stretch languidly. Arms, legs, toes curling and uncurling. Steve reaches for you beneath the covers. Starts tickling you and you squirm and weakly try to get away. You like being caught. He pins you beneath him and grins.

You think you hear the front door open and close. No, that’s impossible.

The smile on your lover’s face evaporates.

“Hey, where is everyone?”

Your mother’s voice calling up the stairs.

She’s home early.

***

William’s blood runs cold. Why was your mother back a week early? Robbing him of the extra time alone with you. He lays a finger against your lips. Sees your eyes widen. Panicked. “Go into the bathroom.”

You nod, sliding out of bed. You’ve got panties and one of Steve’s shirts on.

“And take that off!” He hisses. You fish around in the hamper looking for something that’s yours. He’d been planning on doing laundry today.

You just manage to make it into the adjoining bathroom when your mother enters the master bedroom. He evades most of a kiss by pleading morning breath.

“You slept in late. I’ve never seen you in bed at this hour.”

“Yeah, I was tired. What are you doing back so early?” He tries to make his voice light. Tries to make it not sound like an accusation.

“One of the other women had to leave early. The mood kind of shifted after that. Susan’s mother just got diagnosed with cancer with mets to the bone. Just didn’t feel right staying…”

Afton stops listening, murmuring noncommittal sounds of sympathy. He thinks he hears the faucet running.

“Where’s my daughter?”

“Uh, I think I hear her in the bathroom.”

“I wouldn’t mind a shower myself after breakfast. I didn’t bother with it this morning. You could join me…” Her hand strokes along her husband’s chest, trailing lower. His cock is still thinking about her daughter. “Steve! You did miss me, didn’t you?”

He sits up, moving his body away from her questing fingers. “We shouldn’t…she’s right there,” he says quietly, nodding towards the bathroom door.

His wife sighs. “Alright. Later then. I’m going to pop in to say hi and then I’ll make us all breakfast. Okay?”

“Sure, sounds great.”

His knuckles blanch around a fistful of sheets.

***

You can hear your mother and stepfather’s conversation. You press a hand to your mouth when you realize she’s touching him.

Your eyes fall to the tray on the counter where the wedding band still lies. You tuck it inside the medicine cabinet behind a bottle of cough syrup. You begin brushing your teeth. Scrub until your gums bleed. Rinse and spit out. Look at your reflection in the mirror.

“Honey, can I come in?”

“Um, I'm getting ready to jump in the shower. I’ll be out soon.”

“Just a quick hug? I miss you.” Your mother enters without waiting for a reply. “How’s my girl?”

“Yeah, good. Welcome home.” You hug her stiffly.

“Thanks, sweetheart. It’s good to be back. I’m going to get started on breakfast, okay?”

“Sounds good.” You try and fail at a smile.

She pauses by the door. “You shouldn’t walk around the house like that. What if Steve saw? We talked about this.”

“Sorry. Forgot.” The door closes and tears immediately begin spilling down your cheeks.

The adjoining door reopens and Steve closes it hurriedly behind him.

“Baby girl…” His thumb swipes at the tears.

“That’s it. It’s over. I can’t…” You’re trying to be quiet but you hiccup a sob.

“No, baby girl.”

You open the medicine cabinet and retrieve the wedding band. “You have to put this back on. I have to go hide the roses. I don’t know if there’s anything else left out that shouldn’t be seen…”

”Princess. Calm down. Look at me.”

You shake your head. You take his left hand in yours and begin sliding the ring back in place. Pause and lift tear stained lashes. “I do.”

A shuddering sigh. His palm cups your cheek. “I’m not letting you go.” He captures your lips. His hands grasp your waist and he sits you on the counter. Already moving your panties aside and pulling his cock free of his pajama pants.

“Daddy…”

He pushes into you. Clamps a hand over your mouth as he fucks into you rough and hard. You nod your understanding and he uncovers your mouth again. Your eyes keep going to the adjoining door, the one that doesn’t have a lock. Steve bites down on your shoulder. Sucks until the fragile vessels beneath the skin burst. Marking you.

You knot your fingers in his hair. “I love you,” you whisper.

He marks you inside, claiming what’s his.

[naerwenia]

Springtrap x f!Listener audio [M4F, Predator/Prey Play, CNC?]

Oh no, there's a Springtrap audio now and it's perfect! It's dark, there's a threat of violence and murder (seriously, it's a dark, so be cautious) with predator/prey play, and him calling you a "little rabbit/bunny". Condescending and degrading, yes, but so hot, with a hint of fondness as he makes you his toy and maybe decides to keep you (because you are a slut, bunny). There's also some really good ambience, which I appreciate.

Here's a link to the Reddit post so you can comment and like the audio, and here's straight to the audio if you don't have Reddit account.

[spr1ngbunni]

Spingtap

[1julak1]

I'm fairly surprised with how fast I wrote it (it's because it's short af lol)

The Night Guard

___________________________

Word count: 1607

Category: smut

• fingering • orgasm denial • mentions of blood (not in the sex part though) • slight violence • robot/human intercourse?? •

Characters: Springtrap x afab reader

Enjoy!

Dusty hallways, rusty vents, everything dirty and nasty. That's what the job YN accepted looked like. She didn't even have a clue why she agreed to that. Maybe because it was her only choice, and it was easy enough.

She walked down the corridor, that lead to the office she was supposed to spend 6 HOURS in. 6 motherfucking long, boring hours. At least nothing would happen, right? This place was abandoned, and it was night. Nobody would get there, aside from some kids that would try to act like some silly explorers, or something.

Could YN blame them though..? The place was pretty interesting, creepy even. It was her fault that she was just too eepy to even look at the advantages of working at such a place.

And she started hating it even more after the clock hit 2am.

Till then, she was just clicking random buttons on her tablet to fix the occuring errors, or was looking over the cameras.

Until she saw the shit that was lurking in one of the vents.

A fucking enormous, yellow rabbit, that looked like it has been thrown into a shredding machine.

And the thing moved just before her eyes. It pointed it's empty, dead gaze right at her, making her heart stop.

No, it wasn't any "romantic" moment. It was a moment of deep, breathtaking fear.

Afterall, all the animatronics were supposed to be shut, not moving the fuck around, especially not trough vents. Who the hell would've taught them that??!

YN immediately stood up, scanning the room for any possible weapon she could use against the animatronic. She spotted a baseball bat standing in the corner and decided to just note the fact in her brain, in case she would need it. For now, she intended just to see what the fuck was happening in there.

She went out on the corridor, with a flashlight in her slightly trembling hand. The ambiance in the hallway was dark and off-putting, YN felt a need to curl herself up in a ball and stay like this till 6am.

And when she turned around the corner, she let out a frightened shriek and dropped the flashlight, that broke, making YN get surrarounded in absorbent darkness.

- S-shit! -

She quickly picked the object up and tried to turn it on, to no avail. Now she started panicking. But she then just decided to look for some "off" button in the animatronic if such thing even existed. She took a few, fearful steps towards the animatronic, and let her hands wander over the torn, broken plastic plates of it's body, that felt a little furry under the pads of her fingers.

And then her hands landed on something.. unexpected. Unpleasant. SLIMY.

A yelp escaped past YN's lips, as she took a few steps away from it, falling down on her butt. And there she was, down on the ground in front of massive animatronic, that's eyes now lit up.

And it did something that made girl's heart die in her chest. It SPOKE.

- Oh, what's wrong? Did the remains of my flesh scare you off this much, young lady? -

He took a step ahead, the metal grumbling and whirring with each movement of his robotic legs.

YN quickly scrambled up from the floor and backed away, meeting the wall with her backside.

- No use in running. You can't escape me -

The creature took a few more steps towards the girl, paralyzed with fear. Hot breath fanned over YN's neck, warm, despite of the owner's cold demeanor. The girl could feel her whole body tense at the smell of the animatronic's breath - and it lowkey smelled like rotting flesh.

How could it even breathe-? It was a machine.

YN snapped back to reality and tried to think fast, wanting to find a way to protect her life and dignity. She looked at the animatronic and seeing that it wasn't in arm reach yet, she took her chance and sprinted down the hallway, back into her office. She locked herself in it, quickly shutting off all the cameras, not to scare herself even more.

But then a loud bangs came from the door. They were creaking as if they were just about to break down. And just when YN stepped away from them, they did. The wood broke, sending parts of it flying until they hit the floor too. YN gripped the baseball bat she found earlier, intending to protect herself with it. But one powerful swing of the animatronic's arm was enough to throw it out of her grasp, and making the girl fall to her knees. Springtrap rose her up by her chin, reaching his free hand out to smear her blood over his fingers. Only now did YN realise that there was a splinter stuck in her cheek.

- Tsk tsk. You're bleeding. What a silly little girl you are -

His voice was dark and enticing, and YN strangely found herself kind of.. responding to it.

- W-what are you? -

She asked fearfully, her eyes darting over the animatronic, looking like a prey who has just been caught by a predator.

- "What"? Oh dear, don't treat me like an animal -

He spoke and another dark chuckle left his.. mouth?

- Most call me.. Springtrap. You can call me however you'd like.. but it still doesn't change your situation -

YN gulped, feeling his plastic hand trail over her throat.

- Are you.. going to kill me? -

- Kill you? That would be too easy, don't you think? I'd rather use you.. the other way -

Girl's heart sank. What could he mean? She felt terror making it's way up her spine, sending chills over it. And then, she was thrown across the desk, on her back, as Springtrap towered above her. His big hands trailed over her waist, as the realisation slowly hit YN. This was his "other way".

- I haven't seen a woman for so long... Let alone a woman.. not to mention me having a touch of a woman -

- Please.. I'll do anything you wish, but just... Please not this -

Springtrap immediately shut her up, with a glare that seemed..alarmingly sharp.

- If not this.. i can simply kill you. Would you like that? -

Silence and a shudder from YN answered him.

- That's what i thought -

Moments later, YN's clothes were ripped and discarded to the floor. Girl's nipples stiffened from the cold air hitting them, and Springtrap just stayed silent, looking over at the girl's body. His cold fingers kneaded the flesh, soft and plushy under his touch.

- Fascinating.. -

He muttered, turning the girl onto her stomach, making her let out an unintended moan at the way her hardened buds rubbed over the desk. Springtrap chuckled.

- Don't worry.. soon enough, you'll be.. making these sounds louder -

YN felt plastic touch on her thighs and couldn't help but whine at the way the digits brushed over her pearl and sensitive folds. She felt embarrassed, because she wasn't supposed to be reacting to it this way.

Springtrap laughed as his finger circled over YN's entrance, finding out that she wasn't necessarily all dry.

- You're starting to like this, aren't you? That's such a shame -

The girl let out a yelp as suddenly Springtrap's finger pushed inside her, stretching her inner walls just with it. It was scary how much it filled her alone. The animatronic marveled over the female, taking in notes of her reactions. Every whimper, every moan, every squeeze of her velvety heat on his finger. And as her thighs started shuddering, he pulled his finger out, denying her an orgasm.

YN whined pretensionally, looking at him over her shoulder just to get her head pushed down forcefully.

- Don't you even dare think it's about you -

He grumbled, as he reached to the pad of his pelvis, and YN could hear a metal click before something more humanly, oddly warm pressed over the curve of her rear.

The female gasped, understanding flooding her senses as a shiver of fear and excitement got goosebumps forming on her skin.

Springtrap's cock slid down, to rub between her legs and collect her arousal on it.

And soon, he was pushing into her, tight heat, earning a muffled moan from her.

YN cursed herself for thinking he could ever have mercy with her. She whined pathetically as he picked up the pace immediately, hitting all the soft spots inside her repeatadly, with no care for YN of the way it could hurt her.

But it only got her core gushing and sweet sounds escaping her as she neared her end once. Springtrap could feel her climaxing on his cock once, tightenjng around him and spilling juices over his cock and plastic pelvis, making the coupling more fluid.

He was mostly quiet, only letting out grunts and little groans as he pounded into her relentlessly. And soon another intense, shaky orgasm ripped trough YN, as she fell limp on the desk, too exhausted to keep her head up.

After a few more minutes of the rough session Springtrap let out a primal growl, pinning the girl down with his weight, as he released thickly inside of her.

He then pulled out his member halfly out of her, as YN tried scrambling off the desk. Springtrap chuckled darkly and pinned her down agressively again.

- Where do you think you're going? It's barely 3am -

And that were going to be 3 more long, long hours...

_____________________________________

Sorry for any mistakes or for not using colorful language, but english is my second one, so.. yk.

Anyways thank you for reading and the likes too 😭😭

[springtraps-angel]

Meeting him

(a short one-shot about meeting springtrap)

tw: suggestive, body horror

.☆。• *₊°。 ✮°。૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡.☆。• *₊°。 ✮°。

His story was brief, and I could tell there was more to it than what he was letting on. Did I really believe him? I had to, didn’t I? There was a 7…8(?) foot tall rotting, moving, mechanical rabbit standing in front of me. The blood rushed to my head. And inside of that rabbit was… a corpse? Goosebumps covered my skin, though it wasn’t cold. His breathing was rough, harsh, and there was a mechanical sound underneath it. His voice sounded like he had been yelling for decades. Decades…

“What… what did you do in that room for 30 years?”

His illuminated gaze again shot to mine, and something shifted behind his eyes.

He moved closer to me, his steps hitting the tiled floors hard and heavy.

“You want to know what I did? Locked in a room, alone.” He roughly barked a laugh and looked down at his feet. “I walked.” The visual clicked in my head. The bare metal of his feet, no trace of the rabbit costume there, and the intense wear around his ankles. I pictured him, alone in a dark room, making circles, day after day, week after week, month after month.

“And” he gasped, struggling with a breath. “When that got boring to me, when the frustration and anger became too much to bear, I dug.”

A noise came out of my throat, confusion.

He moved a large metal hand across his chest. As it crossed thin bits of faux fur, bare metal, corrosion, and finally a hole in the suit.

“The clothes I tore away in strips, then the skin, I pushed in the rust and ripped pieces out. Seeing what I could feel. Going deeper. But, oh, there were pieces I couldn’t get to and other parts I wanted to keep.”

A sudden laugh broke from his throat, I cringed at the noise, half human and half machine, dead sounding and dangerous.

I stepped back, but I was slow, and a hand shot out to wrap itself around my throat.  

---

pt 2

[ftmsteveraglan]

theoretically, would anyone actually be interested in a short springtrap x reader fic? and if so, what would you wanna see in it? and i'm not talking william afton, i mean springtrap, like fnaf 3 era, though we can assume that matthew lillard's the one in the suit bc i can't get enough of that man

[glitchysquidd]

F.I References #1

Springtrap and You.

[cinnamonroll-anon]

Rain Drabble: Springtrap x Reader

Warnings: Fuff, Comfort, Gender Neutral

A/n: It's raining where I'm at so I'll indulge in some Springtrap Drabbles. I believe I've seen a headcanon somewhere along the lines of springtrap being afraid of thunder and with the added precaution that water would make him rust, it all blends together to make the eventful night you're experiencing.

It was all normal throughout the day, the air feeling cool and a bit humid but days like these were common in autumn. You had seen the news report on your tv that it would start raining tomorrow and would continue throughout the week. You paid little mind to it and springtrap seemed a bit relieved and so you went above your day until nighttime came. You did your nightly routine and were relaxing on your bed, springtrap was somewhere else around the house doing god knows what, until you heard the soft pitter patter of raindrops against your ceiling. An early rain you thought? You would be wrong, because not even five minutes later the rain began to pour furiously and then thunder shook your house.

Soon after springtrap had made his way to your room, panicked and breath heaving. You had asked him what was wrong and he made a poor effort to mask how he was feeling, trying to wear his signature smirk but the panic was evident in his eyes. "W-what do you mean? Everything's fine, nothing is wrong." Then a flash of light came from the window and a louder rumble came from the sky, causing him to jump, his facade replaced by a more fearful stance.

Then it clicked, he was scared shitless of thunder. It wasn't uncommon by any means, many people were scared of thunder, but he didn't seem like the kind of person to be afraid of it. Actually he didn't quite resemble much of a person now that you think about it, maybe that's why you couldn't believe he'd be afraid. He hesitantly scooted closer to you, hesitant on what to do but he probably didn't want to deal with this alone. You waved him over, softly patting your lap and he scurried over to you like a scared child.

After you got comfortable with him, his head in your lap, you softly ran your fingers through his matted fur. It seemed to help calm him down a bit, as his breathing steadied. "Sorry to bother you like this, it's not... Your problem to deal with." He told you somberly, clearly ashamed of himself, before another roll of thunder made him cling onto you. You gently pulled a blanket over him, trying to make him feel as safe as you could, your hands softly caressing his head. You began to tell him that he was alright and that fear is normal, even if it's for something so illogical sometimes, it was still valid. You would be here the whole night for him and you'd make sure that nothing bad happens to him.

The way his features softened up, he looked at you like you were his whole world. He let himself relax in your embrace, or the best he could. He'd still tense up and subconsciously grip you tighter but he definitely looked better than when he first rushed in. You began to talk to him, trying to distract him. You'd caress his ears and nuzzle into him, simply pampering him in affection, leaving him a flustered mess. You were really something special to him.

After a couple hours or so you both became sleepy. You turned off the lights before gently laying down on the bed, letting his head rest on your chest. You pulled the blanket over his head and softly placed your hands over his ears, hoping to at least muffle the thunder. He took notice and his eyes shone softly, admiring you even if you're eyes were threatening to close, you still cared for him. You would've told him you noticed his faint glow, but the teasing could wait another day.

You softly drifted off to sleep, springtrap working as a warm and fluffy weighted blanket. He didn't stay awake for very long either, the sound of your heartbeat underneath his head lulling him to sleep, even the thunder couldn't scare him now. It sounded so muffled and far in your arms, almost like magic and soon he found himself in the most comforting sleep of his life.

back

[fandomwritingbit]

yo can i get a gn/male!nightguard reader x springtrap where william catches the new worker playing with themselves while on the clock? maybe theyre so turned on by how fucking scary their job is that they just can’t help themselves- their pants feel so uncomfortably tight. besides, nobody’s looking. right?

Hey! This has taken a while so apologies, I hope this is alright.

No one is looking, right?

Springtrap x (gn) reader

Warnings: smut/masturbation, being caught, danger

A/n: this is pretty short, sorry. Hope you enjoy x

You shift in your seat, your trousers becoming more uncomfortable by the second as you grow more and more aroused. This is just ridiculous, how can you be so turned on right now? Maybe it's being alone. Or the amount of time it’s been since you were ahem, sorted out. But more likely it’s the danger. The creeping fear that seizes your veins at being in this building, knowing that you have to pay attention because if you don’t it’s literally life and death. Your life and death. With these monsters you have to notice every little thing, just the smallest change in pattern could be blood. But fuck is it hard to concentrate when you can’t even sit still.

Even as you do it you know how stupid this is, your hand rests over your crotch just cupping yourself but instantly feeling that familiar pleasure jolt through your body. You know better than anyone else that there are security cameras here, it’s your job to watch them and the risk of being caught is obvious… but no one is looking, right? 

It’s fine, you’re still doing your job… kinda. Clicking through the cameras room by room as you were instructed, though only with one hand because the other is still busy feeling yourself over your clothes. The action was doing the opposite of calming your arousal, rather stoking the flames and pretty soon it's impossible to focus on anything else except the growing primal need to cum. 

You check the animatronics again, assuring yourself that everything is fine enough to indulge in this, that it won’t take long and good fucking lord you need it so bad. Your trousers are near agony at this point and undoing the zip and sliding them down is pleasure in itself. Thrill trickles into your veins at what you’re doing; you’re at work, you can see yourself on this monitor, your hand buried between your legs. At first you’re being efficient, touching yourself exactly how you know you like just to get the job done, but pretty soon the feeling of bubbling pleasure is all you can focus on. You’re rocking into your own hand, unable to stop your head from tilting back and soft moans leaving your lips, any trace of shame has gone.

In fact you’re so lost in it that you don’t hear the careful footsteps down the corridor, the suspect clanking drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears and the continuous whirring of the desk fan. If you saw this in a horror movie you’d be shouting at the screen at how oblivious the protagonist is being. 

The golden rabbit would have passed the security office if not for the sounds coming from the room. The breathy moans, the sound of skin on skin, it’s familiar to him, a sound from his life before the goddamned suit. The creature cocks his head as it peers through the open door, watching you pleasure yourself, your shameless form lit up by the monitor in front of you. His breathing grows heavier as your action stirs the human part of him and just as you’re teetering on your edge he can’t resist the urge to pounce. 

“Fuck…” You breathe, tasting the precipice of your climax, your action becoming more frantic. But then you stiffen, all stimulation coming to a halt as an animal instinct prickles your skin… You’re not alone. You stare at the monitor in front of you, a huge hulking figure visible in the darkness of the screen. You know it’s behind you, but you can’t look. You’re completely frozen. 

In a sudden movement the animatronic’s cold plastic fingers grasp your throat from behind, causing your body to pull forward instinctively, a near-deadly pressure squeezing your windpipe. It holds you firm to the swivel chair, as your huge creature brings its head down, a wheezing breath making you shiver. “Don’t fucking stop.” 

[rongrii]

id love to see your depiction of a springtrap lovingly comforting someone and giving them words of encouragement! i love your artwork and id die to see how you'd do this!

“Someone” will be Y/N, because it’s easier that way :’]

I didn’t make it’s really realistic to his character, no manipulation or hidden knife, just comfort because sometimes people need it

I can’t associate myself with y/n, like any time I can’t place myself into y/ns place. but some people can so I did it anyway :D

[roses-comic-corner]

I changed the style in this one a little more and am planing to keep things more neat and don't make smal mistakes anymore 😅

[oftenwantedafton]

Vent - Steve Raglan/William Afton/Springtrap x Female Reader

Chapters 1-3

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - mentions of childhood trauma, mental illness, no explicit content in these chapters

Summary - You’re the one that got away from the yellow rabbit; the first of William Afton’s intended victims.

Eight years later, you find yourself drawn back to the pizzeria you’ve shut from your mind for so long; to the strange man that offers you a job and friendship …and something much darker.

Also available on AO3 - Chapter 1 | 2 | 3

Chapter 1 ~ the one that got away ~

You don’t feel well.

The combination of greasy pizza and the overly sweet frosting on the birthday cake you’d just consumed in rapid succession collide unpleasantly in your stomach. You feel yourself moving further and further back from the other children, but no one seems to notice, and who would, after all; it’s one of those parties the entire class is invited to so no one feels left out. You don’t really know the girl that’s celebrating, don’t find yourself engaging with the other children. You don’t really belong. You’re just a shadow drifting on the edges of the crowd, alone and unwanted.

The costumed yellow rabbit has been present for the entire party, posing for photographs with the children whose parents actually wanted a memento of the occasion. Your own parents do nothing but argue, make you feel like it’s your fault that they’re stuck together, a costly mistake that’s lasted a decade.

The rabbit figure moves to stand beside you, crouching down with a grace that’s impressive given the bulk of the costume. He’s tall even at this height, an intimidating figure towering by your small form.

“I have a surprise for you,” he says, his muffled voice low near your ear.

You’d gotten the cautionary lecture about going somewhere with strangers before, of course; there had been an entire afternoon at school dedicated to rehearsing what to do in certain situations.

But the rabbit mascot wasn’t really a stranger, was he? You knew it was a man inside the suit, of course; an employee at Freddy’s that you couldn’t imagine being anything other than friendly and kind.

“What is it?” You ask, your attention focused on the shiny button nose.

“It’s out back. You have to come with me to see it.”

Your stomach rolls again, churning a warning. Something was off, but you weren’t sure what it was.

He sees your hesitation and his paw rests on your back, rubbing a soft circle. It’s oddly soothing, in combination with his whispered reassurances and gentle promises; you can’t remember the last time someone had been so nice to you. You glance back at the party attendees that have already forgotten you exist and you nod, having to reach up to cling to the yellow fur covered hand he offers once he straightens, guiding you out of the dining room.

You’re led through a series of corridors until you arrive someplace much more dimly lit. It’s cold back here, quiet. There are piles of things you don’t understand stacked on steel shelves. You suddenly want to return to the party. At least it had been warmer there.

The yellow rabbit releases your hand. “Are you ready for your surprise?”

You nod uncertainly, wondering if you could even find your way back to the dining room at this point; if anyone could hear you scream for help.

You hear the sound of something metal being dragged as he lifts it from the nearest workbench, the kitchen knife looking so sharp next to that soft fur.

Your eyes widen and you turn and run.

You can feel him lunge at your retreating form, just missing, sweeping across your hair and the bow on the back of your party dress. You choose a direction blindly, your feet slapping against the concrete floor. Relief washes over you when you hear the sound of the dining room getting louder, the light spilling through the glass panes of the Employees Only doors a beacon for you to follow.

You burst through the doors and head for the nearest adult you can see, tucking breathlessly behind them, watching fearfully for your pursuer.

They never reappear, and you never tell anyone what had happened.

After all, who would care?

Chapter 2 ~ the oubliette ~

You walk with no destination, cutting through a field dotted with the end of last summer’s fading wild flowers.

The fence that borders your makeshift path has fallen to ruin, the wood rotted and collapsing, surrendering to the elements. You count the posts that defy the passage of time and remain standing, crediting even those that list to one side, the rugged earth crumbling at their bases. It’s a distraction, something to focus on besides the poor grade you’d received on your first history exam of the semester, your senior year already starting off terribly. You bitterly recall the fight you'd had with your stepmother the night before and the lunchroom that has no room for you, because you do not care for fashion or makeup or giggling over young pop stars, driving you to eat alone tucked under the stairs.

You reach out and run your fingers over the tallest weeds, letting the dry stalks brush against skin that is ink stained, forever smudged when you spill your buried thoughts and feelings onto paper. You never keep them, afraid they’ll be seen and misunderstood, and you can’t bear the thought of that; those innermost expressions violated and judged by others. They’re all you have to cling to.

You smell the rain before you feel it, the dry spell that has lasted for weeks finally giving way beneath the fury of the atmosphere. A few stray drops fall on your bare arms, a precursor of what is to come, the accompanying rumble of thunder a gentle growl in the distance.

You’ve reached civilization again, such as it is; this part of town long vacant, filled with closed shops and shuttered houses. The economy of Hurricane has always been a fragile thing, one of the many small towns that developers had sought to populate and expand, and for a time it had actually flourished. The expansion had happened too soon, though, abandoned in favor of cities with industry, lured by the promise of more jobs and better access to finer housing and richer commerce.

Your footsteps slow as you near a large structure rising up before you, the children’s party themed restaurant long vacated. You’d heard stories about it before, something about missing children, parents calling for it to be shut down and the owner investigated. You vaguely remember being there for someone’s birthday party once when you were younger, the feeling that something unpleasant had happened while you were there tickling the edges of your mind, but the details are fuzzy. A lot of your childhood memories are like that. Your therapist had said it was a defense mechanism, your brain trying to protect you by obscuring those recollections. You figured if that was the case you were better off not remembering whatever it was that was so traumatic. You had your journaling and that was more than enough as far as you’re concerned. You’d never liked going to therapy anyway, grateful when your stepmother had declared it a needless expense since you didn’t seem to be benefiting from it and you never returned. It’s the only good thing she’d ever unwittingly done for you.

Stepping over a chunk of broken asphalt, you enter the parking lot of the pizzeria. Weeds and small trees and patches of crab grass poke through the tar, finding life in the smallest bits of soil, the unattended blacktop crumbling in their wake. Another scattering of moisture from the gray clouds above strikes your bare skin and you hear the thunder’s growl becoming more impatient.

The building’s cheerful yellow and green paint has long since faded, the painted plaster and tiles of the checkerboard pattern decorating the outside missing in many places, fallen and crumbling. The front entrance and windows are all boarded up, surprisingly clear of graffiti, as if no one is willing to go near the place, afraid of the consequences of desecrating that structure.

The downpour begins.

You bypass the front of the building, stepping hurriedly around a fallen sign, the cracked glass and smashed lighting preventing you from seeing much more than the arm raised in a friendly wave that belongs to the restaurant’s infamous bear mascot. You nearly trip on a root as you weave through the side lot, the failing light from the darkening skies making it difficult to see.

Lightning briefly illuminates your surroundings and that’s when you catch sight of the open window.

It’s so oddly intact, unblemished unlike the rest of the building, the glass panes undisturbed, the frame solid. You think if you could find something to stand on it would be enough of an elevation to climb inside.

You hesitate over this thought, at the strong impulse that makes you feel as if you’re being lured inside.

It’s easy to blame the torrential rain for your desire to escape the elements and you discard the discomfiting thought. There are a couple of pallets from some forgotten shipment of goods that seem strong enough to support your weight and you drag them hastily beneath the opening. You’re drenched now, your hair plastered in wet clusters, your clothing adhered to your body. You climb onto the piled pieces of wooden slats and rest one hand on the sill, supporting your weight while you shove at the bottom rail, widening the space. It slides silently upward, granting you access to wriggle through, easing in one side of your body at a time. A short drop to the floor brings you inside of Freddy Fazbear’s, the noise of outdoors suddenly muffled as you’re swallowed into the abandoned establishment.

***

There is very little light from outdoors to guide you as you explore the space, deciding it’s some sort of storage area, though the room is completely devoid of anything other than a thick layer of dust that you disturb, sending clouds of it into the air. Another flash of lightning shows you the barred opening of a vent of some sort, the metal slats glinting for a brief moment and then the room grows dim again.

Curiously, there is no door to allow you to exit the space. You run your hands along the walls, completing the circuit. Save the vent and the window, there is no other point of entry or egress.

You hear a rattling sound of something dragging across metal and you freeze, holding your breath.

The screws bolting the cover of the duct into place quiver in their frames, the spiraled bits of steel surrendering to the tremendous force shoving at them. The encasement clatters to the floor and you hear the sound of something being pushed through the opening, straining until it, too, lands with a heavy thud.

You cower near the window, already attempting to pull yourself back up, failing without the added height to assist you. Stupid, so stupid that you’d come here, assuming you’d be able to leave as easily as you’d entered.

“Wait.”

The voice stills your struggling form instantly. The figure takes a step forward and it’s just enough for you to make out the shape of one of the mascots, an imposingly tall being well over seven feet tall. Its eyes flicker like a failing flashlight low on batteries. The rabbit—that’s what it is, you realize—has one ear torn midway through, the suit in a similar state of disrepair, the once golden fur and fabric long since faded and worn away, exposing metal and wires. The purple bow tie decorating its neck is frayed, drooping in twin deflated loops above a pair of black buttons meant to represent formal attire.

You stare at the animatronic, trying to reconcile how this creature is still moving on its own when the lithium that powers it should have been depleted long ago; yet here it stands, no longer programmed to remain onstage to perform, a free entity roaming the building.

The yellow rabbit chuckles softly, the noise emanating from within the headpiece sounding modulated, as if an algorithm is altering the amplitude, pitch, and tone. “I’m not like them, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Your mouth is too dry to form words. You wonder how it is he knows that was exactly what you’d been thinking.

“Why are you here?”

“I was out wandering,” you manage, struggling to find moisture to wet your lips. “It started raining. I just wanted to go someplace dry.”

“Strange that you chose this place.”

“The window was open,” you protest. “I didn’t break anything. I’ll leave right now, I just don’t know how to get out of here. There’s no door.”

The rabbit continues to stare at you. “No, there isn’t.” You hear a deep inhale of breath from the figure. “Stay here a moment longer and speak with me.”

Your hand scrabbles absently at the wall in a futile gesture as if you could somehow claw your way through the solid surface. “About what?”

“Anything you’d like. It’s not often this place gets visitors these days.” The rabbit leans against the wall beside the window, folding his arms.

“I have to go…”

“Go where?”

“Home. My parents are expecting me.”

It’s untrue. Your stepmother is likely out spending your father’s money and he’s probably at the bar.

“Do not lie to me,” the rabbit says. “There is no one waiting for you.”

“How did you…”

The mascot’s head tips back to rest against the wall. “I am something of an expert on deception. Why are you out wandering in this part of town? Surely you’ve heard of this place’s reputation, young as you appear.”

“I was just walking home from school. Just thinking, not really paying attention to where I was going.”

“Thinking about what?”

You shrug uncertainly. “Nothing interesting. I promise,” you add, in case he thinks you are attempting to tell a falsehood again.

“I might find it interesting,” he replies, the headpiece tilting back down so he can study you.

You shake your head. “Everything is going wrong. I just failed my first history exam. I don’t have any friends. My stepmother hates my guts.” The confession spills out of you, the words coming easier once the floodgates have been opened. “I’m not like anyone else. I don’t fit in. I’m lonely,” you finish quietly.

Another deep inhale, as if the creature is absorbing your words. You think the lights of his eyes seem a little brighter now, casting a soft glow over the permanent grin on the rabbit’s face, the rows of teeth glinting dangerously.

“I don’t fit in anywhere either,” the suited person says. “So it appears we have that much in common, at least.” His head tips to one side, the intact ear tapping against the window pane. “The storm is ending.”

You shuffle your feet nervously. “Can I leave now?”

“Are you in such a rush to go to the home where you’re not wanted?”

The words cut cruelly and you look away.

The figure sighs. “Go, then, if that’s what you truly want. I won’t stop you. I’ll even help give you a boost up.” He bends, the steel encased hands now laced together to form a step for you. You place a foot there and he lifts you easily, allowing you to reach the sill and begin extracting yourself, one leg hooked over the edge, your torso bending to pass through the opening. Cool, moist air passes over your exposed limbs, reminding you that you’re soaking wet and night is approaching.

You hesitate, feeling the rabbit watching you. “How will you get out? Can you climb back the way you came, or…?”

He chuckles softly. “I was never trapped to begin with. But it’s kind of you to be concerned for a stranger’s well being. If you return, I’ll make your entrance easier next time and open the front door.”

“Return?” You blink at the invitation. “Why would I…”

“If you decide you want company the next time you get lonely. I’m a good listener.”

“Alright. Goodbye.” You don’t want to commit to anything but you also don’t want to risk the odd individual’s ire.

You can see him nod, his eyes glimmering in the strange, forgotten space, watching as you finish extricating yourself from the opening.

Outside, you’re grateful for the fresh air supply, for an escape from the musty scent of the vacant room and its bizarre occupant. You keep to the lit streets on your way home and once there change into warm pajamas and pull a duvet around you, a notebook resting on your lap. With your thoughts already given to another, you find there is nothing left to write about and the lined page remains blank.

Chapter 3 ~ sweet tooth ~

William Afton leaves the new mayor of Hurricane’s office with a smile on his face.

A major part of his electoral campaign had been focused on the promise of a renewal for the city that included renovation and rebuilding, cleaning up the vacant part of town and restoring the area to what it once was.

It was the perfect opportunity to lobby for reopening Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria.

There would still be protests of course; it was inevitable given the history of the restaurant. But with this new blood in office, with a new identity to hide behind, with a new generation that didn’t know any better, it was a chance to begin again.

Sliding into the dark vintage luxury sedan parked along the curb outside the office, he reaches for the lollipop tucked into his shirt pocket. His sweet tooth has gotten worse as he’s advanced in age, the constant craving for sugar driving him to consume it as frequently as possible. He pulls the plastic wrapper free and settles the red candy ball on his tongue, sucking until the treat surrenders, releasing a burst of cherry flavor into his mouth. It mingles with his saliva and he hums in satisfaction, withdrawing it with a loud pop and swallowing the syrup down before replacing it once more between his lips.

Adjusting the rear view mirror, the man eases out of the parking spot and merges smoothly into downtown traffic which is light at this time of day. The stack of flyers on the seat beside him slide on the vinyl and he automatically reaches out a hand to trap them in place.

The public high school is a short distance away, the bulletin board outside the guidance office near the main entrance. It’s littered with postings, a few of which he tears free and crumples in one fist before tacking his own onto the cork board.

He tosses the ruined papers he’s holding into the wastebin as he turns and leaves, tucking his hands deep into his pockets. He exits the building, long legs making short work of the cement stairs, humming faintly under his breath.

***

You never really pay much attention to the job postings at school.

Yet today it’s impossible to ignore the brightly colored flyer whose bottom edge lifts in the breeze of the passing students, the strips of paper with a phone number fluttering in their wake. You slow down, looking at the advertisement, blinking in surprise when you realize it’s an announcement that Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria is reopening under new management and is seeking ‘motivated individuals’ to help with the project both before and after its completion.

You think of the yellow rabbit lurking in the depths of that place and you shiver. You’re still not even certain it had really happened; if it hadn’t just been some wild imagining your brain had conjured up, a dream that had felt a little too real. Imaginary or not, as odd and unnerving as the encounter had been, you couldn’t help but admit there’d been something strangely charismatic about the stranger. He was so easy to talk to. The fact that he was an outsider too gave you the sense of kinship.

You shake your head, silently reprimanding yourself. It was ridiculous. You weren’t about to make friends with a strange man that may or may not even exist wearing a decaying mascot costume hanging out in some abandoned restaurant. Even you aren’t that pathetic and desperate.

Still you hesitate, staring at the announcement until you find yourself tearing one of the slips of paper free, tucking it into the pocket of your jeans.

There is no thoughtful lingering walk home that afternoon.

You head directly to your house, sighing with relief that another school day’s behind you as you enter your bedroom, tossing your backpack on the bed and sitting down beside it. You toe off your sneakers and cross your legs beneath you, debating about whether you feel like raiding the kitchen for a snack when you remember the paper you’d shoved into your pocket earlier.

It takes you a moment to find it, leaning back slightly and rummaging around in the confined space, digging until you realize it’s been creased tightly against the seam. You pull the phone beside your bed into your lap and hesitate once again, thinking of flickering lamp eyes in the darkness.

Before you lose your nerve you dial the number, a man’s voice answering on the second ring.

“Steve Raglan’s office. Can I help you?”

His voice is an odd mix of rust and nasal whine, overly cheerful.

“Uh, yeah. I got this number from a flyer at my school. It’s about the jobs at Freddy’s.”

The career counselor’s tone shifts an octave lower, a rough grate of noise that sounds pleased. “Excellent. We’ll be holding interviews this week. Was there anything in particular you wanted to be involved with?”

“No, not really.” You wind the phone cord around your index finger, straightening out the tight coil briefly before it resumes its previous shape, hugging the digit firmly.

“Well, we’d love to have you come down and tell you more about the opportunities available. What day works for you?”

“Um, any afternoon is fine, really.”

“Great. Flexibility is something the owner really appreciates. How does Wednesday sound to you? Three o’clock?”

“Sure, that works.” You give the man your contact information.

“We look forward to seeing you then.” There’s a soft sound like a hum of amusement and then the line is disconnected, the dial tone loud in your ear.