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bratphilia · 7 months

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glass window (w. afton x reader)

request: "POOHKIE BEAR HEAR ME OUT!!!! dad's best friend!william. y'all just moved into the neigborhood, and you've been oh so busy with college/working that you hadn't had the time to introduce yourself to william (tho steve for the sake of keeping his identity yada yada) and so like, the moment you get the chance to? william aka steve cannot contain his thoughts abt you oml !! ur just so fucking pretty !! delicate !! those fucking skirts you wear, in the summers of utah (i think thats where the movie/fnaf location is canonically) he'd so.. hungry for you.. bonus points if theres a height/size difference omg JUST HEAR ME OUT POOHKIE!!!- i'll be going under as the 🧚‍♀️ anon!"

note: okay yeah i went a lil crazy with this one but i just loved this request sm. probably my favorite fic ive written so far.

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: age gap (reader is college age 18-21 and william is 45-50), creepy and stalking behavior from william, oral sex (m + f receiving), slight dubcon, doggy style, mating press, multiple orgasms, william having insane stamina at his age

you and your parents just moved to hurricane, utah, aka the most boring town you've ever been to. the second day in your new house, while you were at your criminology class, your neighbor, steve raglan came by to welcome your family to the neighborhood. they mentioned having a college aged daughter. he didn't think much about at the time. it was a passing comment after all.

a few weeks pass by and steve started to become a frequent visitor to your household. however, each of those times you have either been at school or at work. he had no idea who you are.

that is, until one day you come home in the evening after a class while steve is over having a glass of wine with your dad. you close the door behind you to see the door to the backyard open. curiously, you poke your head out and spot your dad with an unfamiliar face, and you stand shyly in the doorway expectantly.

"hey, sweetie," your dad says. "this is steve raglan. our next door neighbor i was telling you about."

you walk towards him when steve holds his hand out for you to shake. "nice to meet you, mr. raglan."

mr. raglan. his ears practically perk up at that. he drinks in your appearance. you're wearing a black, short tennis skirt that stops mid-thigh with a pretty white blouse.

"nice to meet you too," he says politely, trying his hardest not to come across as creepy.

your dad turns to you. "how was class?"

"it was okay. i do have a lot of homework to do, so i should probably go," you say, then turn to steve and wave as you go, "it was nice to meet you again."

his eyes never leave your bare legs as you walk away. and well, he wanted to fucking ruin you.

steve notices something interesting about you while mowing the lawn. there's a gate in the back of your house where he can see a glass door from the angle he's at in the front of his yard. a glass door that, he discovers, is the back entrance to your bedroom.

he decides to make good use of his porch.

at this point, he contemplates buying a pair of binoculars, but that felt like a little too much. for now, he had the view he needed to satisfy him. he even took a few photos that he saves for material to use in his personal time.

unbeknownst to you, steve is absolutely obsessed with you.

his heart skips a beat every time you take a walk in the neighborhood, when, coincidentally, he's sitting on the porch pretending to read a newspaper, and you wave at him and smile. he always returns your smile and waves back kindly.

one day, when you're walking past his house, he notices something gold falling to the ground. when you're out of sight, he goes to investigate, only to find a gold ring that could have only belonged to you. the perfect opportunity. steve waits about a week and keeps your ring with him on top of his nightstand.

sometimes, he notices you like to leave your door open on a particularly hot day. surely you couldn't be naïve to think no one would break in, right? you're just so pretty, who knows who could follow you home from the shadows.

on one particularly hot day, you leave your door open. almost invitingly. and steve watches as your mom's car passes by his house, going out, while he knows for a fact that your dad is working. it's his time to strike.

steve makes his way across the street and through the back gate. he looks through the window to find you reading a book while sitting on your bed. he taps on the glass to get your attention. your eyes snap from the book to the door to see him standing there.

"hi, uhm, can i help you, mr. raglan?" you say, getting up. you look shocked, clearly a little freaked out he came through the back of your house, he presumes.

steve smiles and walks in uninvited, making you back up a little as he steps closer. "hi stranger, i just wanted to return something of yours that you dropped a few days ago."

he turns up the ring in his hand and watches your eyes widen. "i've been looking all over for this! thank you so much."

steve watches as you take the ring from his palm and slip it back on your finger. "you know, i've been wondering something."

you look up at him. "what's that?"

he chuckles lightly and closes the door behind him. "i can't help but notice that you like to leave your door open, and i just wonder how you possibly think that's safe for you."

"i—i don't know what you mean," you say, confused. you fidget with ring on your finger nervously, not liking the direction this conversation is going in.

"well, you know just about anyone could come in here and take advantage of you. you wouldn't want that, hmm?" he asks, stepping towards you and cupping your jaw. "or maybe you would. is that why you do it?"

you inhale. "mr. raglan, i don't think this is appropriate—"

"neither is the way you've been teasing me, little girl," steve retorts and you flash him a scandalized look. "oh, come on, don't think i don't notice. your short skirts showing off that even tinier figure and the way you always seem so eager to get my attention. i know the game you're playing."

he cups your jaw as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip for entrance. you grant him access and he slips his tongue into your mouth. it's a slow, sensual kiss. you're moaning into his mouth as he takes full control.

steve's hands travel from your face, to your waist, and to your ass to squeeze. you whimper into his mouth and he laughs lowly against you.

slowly he breaks away from you. "take off your clothes and get on the bed on all fours. now."

you make a show of taking off your clothes for him. you keep eye contact with him as you unbutton your shirt and discard it mindlessly. then you reach around your back to unclasp your bra, baring your chest to him.

"beautiful," he comments. "take off your panties but keep the skirt on."

you do what he says and get in the lewd position steve requested a moment ago, mind racing with what he would possibly do to you. you grip the sheets almost nervously and rub your thighs together to relieve the tension in your core.

steve practically saunters over to you and gives a low whistle. "such a pretty pussy."

you blush realizing your skirt rode up to your waist. you shiver when he places a cold hand on your ass, kneeding it roughly.

"ooh," you moan, arching your back needily, making him laugh.

"need it that bad, huh, baby?"

"yes," you say quietly, turning head around to look at him.

"don't worry, honey, i'll take good care of you," he says with a twisted smile.

he leans forward to press a kiss on your slit, moaning at the wetness that drips onto his lips. he wastes absolutely no time eating you out and laps at your pussy like a starving man. you can't bear to look at him anymore, the obscene noises of him slurping causing your face to burn with embarrassment.

you can't help but push back against his face much to his delight. you can feel his beard scratching against you, as delicious as you imagined. the friction of him smothering his face into you is making you whimper and moan helplessly. you wish you could grasp onto him or close your thighs, but this position and being completely at his disposal makes it all the more hotter.

he smacks kisses on your clit, sucking and rolling the sensitive nub around with his tongue. one particular harsh suck where he tugs on your clit ever so gently with his teeth has you coming on his face. he keeps going until you're squirming and begging him to stop.

he pulls away from you almost remorsefully. "thanks for the meal, babe," he says, wiping his mouth. something that would have otherwise made you cringe in disgust if it didn't come from him.

"ready for my cock, sweet girl?" he asks.

you can only murmur out a "mhm" as you were already too fucked out to verbalize anything.

he just laughs at your disposition. "don't get too tired on me yet, sweetheart, i still have so much planned for you."

the clinking of metal gets you excited all over again. he pushes into you with a groan. "fuckin' tight like a vice," he curses.

he thrusts into you experimentally, gaging your reaction for which angle makes you moan the loudest. when he finds the right one, he picks up the tempo instantly. your room is filled with the noises of his balls smacking against your ass, his grunts and your incessant moaning. he wraps a hand in your hair and the other rests on your hip for leverage.

"you like that, baby? like the feeling of me inside you?" steve asks you teasingly but you can barely respond. "fuck, you feel so good around me. my good girl."

"please, let me come," you whine desperately, bucking your hips backwards so it meets his thrusts.

"i will, honey, i will."

suddenly he flips you over so you're on your back and bends your legs in half. the manhandling is an added bonus. "i want you to look at me when you come, okay?"

"okay..." you mumble, letting him use your pussy for whatever he pleases at this point.

one specifically hard and calculated thrust has you reeling. your orgasm is definitely in sight. you can feel your stomach begin to coil, ready to snap.

"mr. raglan!" you draw out the syllables of his name, signifying you're close.

"ngh — keep calling me that, honey, it's so fuckin' hot."

you can feel him close as well as his grunts and groans grow louder and his thrusts get more erratic and shallow. he decides to drill into you even harder for the sake of your own orgasm, making you almost scream out his name as you squeeze your eyes shut and come.

he pulls out before he finishes and beckons you over to him. "suck me dry, baby. want you to taste yourself on me when i come."

tiredly, you sit up and take is cock into your mouth. since he's already close he takes the initiative to thrust into your mouth while you gag around him. the noises you're making only add to his arousal.

he's grunting incoherent dirty praises, about how good and tight your mouth feels, and how you're such a good girl for him. he comes with one final, drawn out groan as he throws his head back. spurts of his ejaculate shoot down your throat and you try your best to swallow what he gives you, but some dribble down your chin.

you pull your mouth off of him and he brings his lips to your for another kiss, licking the remnants of his orgasm from your lips and chin. when you pull away breathlessly he's grinning from ear to ear.

"so good f'me," he compliments sweetly, making you smile.

maybe hurricane isn't so bad after all.

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf smut #fnaf x reader #steve raglan #william afton #steve raglan x reader #william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf movie #matthew lillard #matthew lillard x reader #william laughs evilly during sex. its canon #🧚‍♀️

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theehoneeybee · 7 months

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Talking In Your Sleep. Chapter 1.

Talking in Your Sleep - Blue Monday

The new security hire doesn't realise he's in deep. There's more than just abandoned arcade games and dusty decorations at Freddy Fazbears Pizza.

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader

Word count: 2.2k

a/n: I haven't written in like a year but the fnaf movie altered by brain chemistry. this series is cross posted on my ao3. lmk what you think!

series m.list

next part >

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The halogen lights flickered, lighting up the black grey room, it's peeling walls covered in fake-motivational posters. Dream Big! Work Hard! What bullshit. Mike bounced his leg anxiously. Yet another job gone because of his temper. That was the third one this month. At this point, he had spent more time at the career councillors office than at an actual job.

"Number 27," the receptionist called out drearily.

Mike grabbed his jacket and made his way to the councillors office, already dreading the outcome. This councillor wasn't one he had met before. He swivelled around in his chair, skimming through Mike's file with a less than pleased expression plastered on his face. Amongst his cluttered desk strewn with paperwork from the hundreds of others looking for work was a black and gold name tag. Steve Raglan.

"What is your deal Mike?" he asked, gaze not lifting from the manila folder. "What are you, some kind of headcase?"

Steve reads aloud the incident which landed Mike in his office. It was all a misunderstanding. Mike had seen a confused, lost young boy wandering through the shopping centre, so when a strange man dragged him away, he couldn't sit idle. Of course, he should have talked to the man first instead of immediately brutalising him and traumatising his poor son in the process. He knew that. But at the time, all he could think about was protecting the boy. The loss of Garrett eats away at him. Steve lists out his past jobs. One week. Terminated. Two weeks. Insubordination, terminated.

"It's like you're not even trying, yet you sit before me asking for help," Steve sounded almost amused. "I'm just trying to figure out who you are, Mr Michael Sch-"

Steve's expression changed. He rereads the last name printed on the page, glances up at Mike, staring at him with an unreadable expression. He gets up to pour himself a cup of coffee with shaky hands and a furrowed brow.

"I'm going to be brutally honest with you here Mike. Given your track record, your options are gonna be extremely limited."

"I'll take anything. Any job you've got," Mike bargains but Steve insists it's not that easy. Defeated, Mike gets up to leave before Steve quickly speaks again.

"I have a job for you." Mike sits back down. "It's a security gig. Full disclosure: it's not great. But you only have to worry about one thing, keeping people out. And well, keeping the place tidy but-"

"That's two things," Mike interrupts.

Steve shrugs. "Do you want the job or not?"

"How's the pay?"

"Not great, but the hours are worse," Steve explained with a smile.

Mike's expression fell, rubbing the back of his neck. He muttered out, "I can't do nights."

Steve chuckled. "That's such a shame." As Mike got up to leave, thanking him, Steve gave him his card.

"In case you change your mind."

The roads were always empty at this time of the night. Your car hummed quietly as you made your way to work. 11:48pm, the clock read. These night shifts had really messed up your sleep schedule. You yawned, pulling into the parking lot and stepping outside. The icy breeze ran straight through you, the cheap security vest doing little in the way of warmth. You hugged it tighter to yourself, eager to get inside and escape the cold. Immediately you were hit with the smell of dust and rot, something you had become familiar to over the past weeks. You navigated through the pizzeria, kicking broken glass from the many break-ins out of your way. Even with the curtains drawn shut, as you passed the animatronic show stage you could feel eyes burning into you. The whole place gave off an unsettling vibe. When you had gotten the job, they explained to you the owner was sentimental which is why he kept the place up, rather than demolishing it. You couldn't understand why. As you entered the security office, you grabbed a chair and wedged it under the door handle. It had become routine. Doors would randomly open and more nights than not, footsteps could be heard down the hallway. Yet, you never saw anyone there. You sat down in the cracked leather chair, booting up the monitors to begin yet another long shift.

You swivelled around in your chair, trying to entertain yourself. Every room in the pizzeria was decked head to toe in cheap Freddy Fazbear merchandise. It left a sour taste in your mouth. As a child, you had spent countless hours in the pizzeria against your will. Instead of paying for childcare, or taking time off work, your parents would just dump you at the pizzeria. After school, weekends, whenever. From open to close. On more than one occasion, you had tried running home only to find the house locked. It was only once you started getting older they gave up on the pizzeria, leaving you at home instead. It was almost ironic that you chose this job after all the time you had spent here, but money is money. On the plus side, you never had to deal with annoying co-workers or rude customers. One by one, the hours slowly ticked by. Tonight was quiet. No sounds of footsteps or random clanging. Everyone was right in their place. Some nights you could've swore you had seen Foxy move. The curtains to Pirate's Cove didn't close properly, allowing you to see inside. Maybe you were just sleep deprived, but one night, about a week ago, it looked like foxy had moved and was staring directly down the camera. It was like they knew you were there. But after you had rubbed your eyes, he was back to normal. The second the clock struck six you were out, avoiding staring at the show stage as you rushed out the door.

Mike stared at the phone, idly toying with the business card Steve had given him the day before. He couldn't work nights, that hadn't changed, but he was at a point were that was his only choice. Aunt Jane was trying to take custody of Abby, citing Mike's inability to care for his younger sister and lack of employment. As right as she was, Aunt Jane was a bitch, and there is no way Mike was letting her take custody of Abby. Mike turned around to look at Abby who was sat in front of the TV, drawing as always. Abby didn't talk to Mike much, too absorbed in her drawings and conversations with her imaginary friends. He sighed and dialled in the number, holding the phone up to his ear as he waited for Steve.

"Hello?" The crackled voice through the phone answered.

"Hi Mr Raglan, it's Mike."

"Mr 'I can't work nights'." Mike could hear Steve's smirk through the phone.

"Right. I was just wondering if that job is still available?"

"Oh, it absolutely is. Why? Have you had a change of heart?"

Mike turns around again to look at Abby. "How soon can I start?"

As you were getting ready for work, the phone rings. You answer it, holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you struggled to lace up your shoes. "Hello?" you asked.

"Hi, it's Steve Raglan," the man replies. Shocked, you grab the phone properly and sit up.

"Oh, Mr Raglan. What can I do for you?" You prayed to every God in existence that he wasn't firing you. As little as the job paid, you needed every cent.

Almost like he was reading your mind, Steve replied, "Don't worry, you're not in trouble. But, we are making some changes to the job." You listened anxiously. "We've hired another security guard. Given how big the place is we thought you could use an extra set of hands. He's starting tonight so you'll have to train him but I'm sure you guys are gonna have no problem." Before you could protest, Steve wishes you a good night and hands up. You groan, leaning back in the chair. The solitude was one of the very few things you enjoyed about this job and now that was taken away from you. You snatched your keys and left, slamming the door behind you.

As you drove the the pizzeria, you wonder what kind of person was desperate enough to take this job. Well, you, but who else? You arrived in the parking lot at the same time as your new co-worker. As soon as he stepped out of the car, you noticed how tired he looked. His dark hair was messy and bags hung heavy under his eyes. He definitely didn't want to be here. The two of you walked silently to the door. You glanced at him and introduced yourself as you unlocked the doors.

"I'm Mike," he replied, barely looking at you. Okay, rude.

You let him inside and began to give him a rundown of the job. "It's not that hard," you explained. "Ninety percent of the time you're just sitting around watching the monitors. Occasionally I'll clean stuff up or go investigate a noise, but there haven't been any break-ins so far."

As you walk past the show stage, Mike peeks behind the curtains. You smirk and decide to give him a fright. You press the big, red Showtime! button next to the stage. Immediately, colourful lights illuminate the room and loud 80's music plays as the curtains draw back. Mike steps back in shock, watching as the animatronics on stage start to sing and move about. He shoots you a look of annoyance for scaring him. The show is cut short by the fuse box tripping, the lights flicker off and the curtain draws.

"Amazing, right?" you say sarcastically. "The power here is pretty shitty. If it goes off, there's a breaker. Just flip it off and on and it should work again."

Mike stayed silent as he followed you to the security office. He watched you curiously as you wedged a chair under the door.

"It's just for safe measure," you explain. He gives you a half-hearted nod and investigates the office. You sighed. It was going to be a long night if this is what he was like.

You turned on the monitors and showed Mike how to use them. The technology was old and half of the buttons were jammed and caked in dust. It didn't take Mike long to figure out how it worked.

"I'm gonna do a check of all the rooms. Just keep and eye on the cameras and give me call if you see anything," you said. Mike gave you a quite okay, keeping his eyes on the screens. You left and wandered through the abandoned pizzeria. As bad as it sounded, you didn't think he would last. Why was he so unfriendly? Nothing you had said or done was mean yet he was so standoff-ish. The building groaned and the old lights flickered. From down the hallway, you heard a hum. It sounded like someone singing. You stopped in your tracks, pointing the flashlight down the hall. You never heard anyone come in, but something about the song didn't sound human. It was familiar, something you had heard before. You slowly walked away and snuck back into the security room.

"You okay?" Mike asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Um, yeah..." you trailed off. "Yeah I'm fine. Did you see anything on the cameras?"

Mike shook his head. You sighed and slumped down into the chair. You must just be tired.

It was only 3am. You looked over to Mike who was barely awake. "You can sleep," you offered. "You look really tired."

"I'm fine," Mike insisted but you narrowed your eyes.

"These shifts will ruin your sleep schedule. Try get some while you can."

Mike chuckled. "It's ruined enough thanks."

Your eyes caught onto the book on the table. Dream Theory. Curious, you picked it up and skimmed through the pages. You looked up at Mike with a slight smile. "I didn't expect you to be into this stuff." Mike looked embarrassed.

"Apparently, everything you ever hear or see is stored somewhere in your mind," Mike began to explain. "You can access them through your dreams when you use familiar sights and sounds," he paused. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

That was the most Mike has said all night. You shook your head. "I think it's cool. I don't really get it, but it's cool." He looked surprised by your response.

Slowly, your shift came to an end. The sun was slowly starting to rise. You were ready to crawl into bed and sleep for the rest of the day. Mike looked like he felt the same. He intrigued you. yes, he was closed off and honestly a bit rude, but there was definitely more to him than he lets on. The metal of the gate was freezing against your hands as you locked up the pizzeria, your breath visible the the cold morning air. Mike tucked his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, squinting as the bright morning sun beams into his eyes. As your make your way to your car, you give Mike a small wave.

"I'll see you tomorrow night."

He nods and you think you almost see him smile. "See you tomorrow."

#mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #abby schmidt #five nights at freddy's #fnaf x reader #william afton

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sadesluvr · 5 months

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Black Christmas - S. Raglan x Reader x M. Schmidt

Mike’s job as a park ranger becomes interesting when a mysterious couple stay five nights in a winter lodge.

A/N: HOLY FUCK. This is my longest and most tiring fic in a while (for all the right reasons) and I’m really excited to share it with you! It was loosely inspired by the req and work by @dilfbabie (HERE) but this has a festive, darker spin. This is for the people who voted for a Steve/William aligned reader, and is porn with plot. Further details in the tags, but this is reminiscent of a Jordan Peele film (aka the best kind of film), so dark themes lie ahead. I really hope you all enjoy it, consider it a Christmas gift ;)

Word count: 5.3K

Tags: SMUT (Porn with plot) / Slow burn / Fem! Reader / Threesome / Brief mentions of abuse / Alcohol usage / Oral sex, male receiving / Fingering / Blowjobs / Voyeurism / Cowgirl (position) / Unprotected sex / Creampies / Psychological manipulation / Deception / Dub-Con (if you squint) / Cheating --- MINORS DNI

MONDAY

Mike had grown to find that being a park ranger was far more amusing than working as mall security. He loved being surrounded by the natural world, and the relatively isolated nature of the job - outside of being with his colleagues - meant that he had time alone. Time to think.

It was even more enjoyable in the winter, specifically the Christmas period, where he revelled in the contrast of the bustle of the shopping district with the tranquil sightings of caribou and squirrels.

It was standard procedure for the rangers to meet the guests of the lodges they inhabited, simply as an act of trust building. Today was no different, except for the fact that he was standing at the door of one of the largest and lavish buildings in the resort, which only meant one thing…Snobby, rich inhabitants.

When you answered the door, your lips parted in a brief moment of shock, adjusting your relaxed posture so that you were upright.

“Hi…” you said, an unplaced smile appearing on the corner of your lips. “Can I help you Officer…?”

“Mike,” he quickly added. “I’m sure you’ve seen me in the pamphlet, but I’m your designated ranger for this district. I’m here for your safety,”

You seemed somewhat confused at this, but also rather appreciative.

“Thanks…” you replied, absentmindedly fiddling with your necklace. “We— Uh, we haven’t looked at that much yet, actually…”

Mike nodded. You’d probably just moved in, likely more desperate for a shower and a nap than read pages of menial information.

“My pager codes should be taped to the wall in the kitchen. Outside of patrols and emergencies — weather, rabid animals, that sort of thing — I’ll shouldn’t be in your hair,”

You cocked your head, seemingly interested in something about him. He was cute; boyish in contrast to his position that was usually reserved for those with blatant machismo. You wondered how he got it in the first place.

You nodded back, fingers lingering on the door as you swung it. “Oh, well that’s great, thank —“

“Babe? Who is that? You’re taking an awful while to — Oh, hello Officer…?”

Your interaction was interrupted by an older, taller man who emerged from the stairs behind you. He was dressed in an off-yellow utility suit - likely for skiing - in which a purple sweater peeked out from underneath. His hair was groomed and he wore large, slightly out of fashion glasses. He rested an arm above you, leaning it on the doorframe, and Mike squinted as he noticed that you’d shifted uncomfortably at the movement before trying to compose yourself.

He was lost in his thoughts, temporarily oblivious to the fact that the man was staring at him expectedly.

“ — Mike, “ he stammered, giving the man his name.

“Your badge says Michael,” he replied, matter of factly.

“I prefer Mike,”

“Hm,” the man mused, the grumble seemingly coming from the depths of his chest. “That’s odd. Usually you guys are referred to by your last name…”

Mike wasn’t sure about you, but this mysterious man was definitely a rich asshole. They always assumed they knew everything.

“It’s Schimdt — Michael Schmidt…but please, Mike is fine,” he replied, shifting his weight and pursing his lips. Strangely, the man’s blue eyes widened, and he cocked his head, softening his demeanour. Your gaze was fixed to the floor uncomfortably, and Mike could only decipher that you were embarrassed by the man’s insistence. The entire thing was borderline uncomfortable.

Yet, at that moment, he smiled.

“The name’s Steve,” he perked up, extending his hand for the smaller man to shake. He took it, and the man’s grip was firm and assuring, leading Mike to believe that he was some kind of businessman.

“Thank you, Mike,” continued sincerely, his voice noticeably soft. “Hopefully we’ll see you around then,”

Mike blinked and glanced at you. You were still, almost motionless, with Steve protectively hovering over you. He could tell he’d interrupted something.

“You too,” he replied, beginning to back away as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Happy holidays.”

TUESDAY

During the ins and outs of his job, Mike had been trying to rack his brain, wondering if he’d ever come across this ‘Steve’ before, but to no avail. Perhaps he’d just gotten the wrong person. Michael was a very common name, after all.

He wondered about you, though. You were certainly younger than him, and although he’d come across his share of problematic couples, there was something far more striking about you than the rest. Steve’s authoritarian presence, coupled with your seemingly shy, introverted own, was usually a cocktail that led to disaster. He wasn’t a cop, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep tabs on you, would it?

It seemed that the time would come quicker than expected. The next morning he’d received a ‘111’ message from your residence, and hadn’t wasted time in making his way up to see you.

Upon being let in, he quickly found out that you were alone, with Steve having run out for groceries. Apparently, you’d been hearing ‘rattling and shaking’ in the vents, and simply feared being home alone with the threat of a robbery looming over your head. He’d checked the vents, scoping the interior out for signs of damage or entry, quickly finding out that badger had made a home inside the walls, earning a good chuckle from the pair of you.

“I’m so embarrassed!” you’d gushed, and Mike had smiled slightly at your flustered demeanour. You were dressed rather nicely for an early morning, in a chic turtleneck, pants and a pair of Moon Boots. It didn’t take a genius to decipher that you either came from, or was in contact with a lot of money.

“No problem…” he chuckled, feeling the quiet instinct to pry. “So, Steve just left you here, even with the threat of an intruder?”

Your shoulders visibly dropped at the fact.

“Pretty much…” you sighed, masking your nervous energy by removing a mug from the coffee machine, pouring some fixings into the liquid before taking a sip, exhaling deeply.

“I know what you’re thinking,” you sighed, and Mike stiffened at the way you were so sincere, eyes locked on his own as you seemingly read his mind. “You have a point, but I like that he doesn’t baby me. But it does scare the shit out of me, knowing that we’re basically in the wilderness. Anything could happen…!”

He nodded.

“Well, you’re more likely to be attacked by kids at Santa’s Grotto than a bear,” he laughed. “I wouldn’t worry…”

You smiled, gaze unwavering as you sipped the drink, admiring the rich taste on your tongue. It was as if you were a siren, beckoning him towards you with an indescribable aura. There was more you wanted to say, but you couldn’t say it.

Biting the bullet, he cleared his throat.

“Hey — This may not be my place, but is everything okay? When he came down the other day I saw you tense up,” Mike finished, and you let out a low hum as you contemplated the implications of his statement.

“We’re having a few issues,” you said, rolling your eyes, apparently brushing the situation off. “We’d been arguing a lot back home, and he booked this trip so we could regroup and stuff. I’m grateful, and I might even love him – but it doesn’t make me any less paranoid. I never know how he’s feeling, y’know? He’s a bit off sometimes…”

‘Off’.

That was certainly one way to put it, Mike thought.

“...Does he hurt you?”

“God no,” you insisted. “He’s just — Well, let’s just say that he’s not all that open about his past,”

Silence.

Mike let out a deep breath and placed his hands on his hips, musing on what you could’ve meant. He averted his gaze to glance around the cabin. It was rather lush, with floor to ceiling windows, marble countertops and rich oak accents; perhaps you were living beyond your means? Every item in his sight seemed relatively normal, blankets, keys, even a small Christmas tree with a few presents underneath. Still, it meant nothing. After all, nobody kept their secrets on display - no, those kinds of things were reserved for a bedroom…Or basement. Or the trunk of a car. Or in the psychological prison of the mind.

“…I should finish getting ready,” your voice interjected. “Thanks for the help, Mike,” you said sweetly, and he nodded before turning around and making his way to let himself out. As he placed a foot down the first step, something turned him around, and he was shocked to see that you weren’t far behind him. He hadn’t heard you follow him.

“By the way —“ he said, clearing his throat again. “I’m doing a patrol on Thursday, so I’ll be around…Just if you need to talk…”

He hoped he wasn’t being too forward.

You smiled, and this time Mike could see the emotion in your eyes.

“Good to know,”

WEDNESDAY

One of the best things about the job were the treetop viewing platforms. It gave a 360 view of the resort, and Mike was able to see near and far with his pair of binoculars. It was certainly a task that Abby would’ve loved, if she were ever allowed to see him work.

On this particular morning, he was scoping out the usuals - people on the slopes, those taking photos, and the general assortment of vehicles that came in and out of the building. Still, he found himself looking westward toward the lodging you were living in. Call it paranoia, or call it doing his duty, he couldn’t pry himself from the familiar outline of the building.

All seemed normal, until he’d focused on the top window, the largest one of the house that sat behind a balcony. There was no sign of you on the outside, other than the table and chairs, but it was what was enclosed behind that glass that worried him.

Sure enough, you and Steve were there. He couldn’t make out from the resolution, but your face was pressed to the glass, with Steve behind you, clearly leaving little room for you to move. Mike felt his chest constrict, tongue swiping over his lips as he zoomed in, silently praying that you weren’t being hurt.

It turned out that hurt was the complete opposite of what you were undergoing. There you were; totally nude with Steve’s large arms around your throat, kissing your neck as he jerked, your body writhing about as he did. Mike knew all too well what you were doing, and it didn’t take long for the blood to rush from his cheeks to his cock, praying that his growing bulge wouldn’t be visible to anyone.

Your eyes were half lidded as you scrambled to hold onto something, and Mike couldn’t help but wonder what your moans sounded like. Were you a screamer or a whimperer? Judging by the way the older man was ravishing you, it seemed to be somewhere in between the two.

Swallowing, he lowered the binoculars, pinching the bridge of his nose as he contemplated what he’d just done. There was no ridding the image from his mind, certainly not when he’d taken in every crevice of your body. He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets to try to suppress his base urges, storing the image securely for later.

THURSDAY

Mike rubbed his eyes as he slid into the company car, ready to do his rounds. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night.

His grip remained firm on the steering wheel, carefully navigating the elevated roads. A fresh layer of snow had settled over the past day, and the last thing he needed was to skid off into the trees. It was funny that the winter wonderland around him couldn’t mask the fact it was in a place like this where his family’s life had been turned upside down — where his brother had been cruelly and callously taken…All under his watch.

Sometimes he couldn’t live with himself.

He was at the bottom of the final stretch of lodges when he noticed two figures trudging down the hill. Their arms were outstretched and faces scrunched - and Mike recognised you instantly. Steve was following after you whilst your arms were crossed, clearly having a temper tantrum of some kind. Squinting, he tried to make himself unnoticeable as he listened in.

“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want me to see her! I love kids!”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to see her, it’s just — Well, it’s not that easy…”

“How could this be difficult? I’m your girlfriend. She’s your daughter. Someday we’ll have to cross paths, right? Unless I’m some silly fling to you…”

“You’re not, okay? You know I love you. It’s complicated - Vanessa, she’s a little volatile —“

“I wonder where she gets that from,”

Frowning, Mike came out of the car, slamming the door with force to alert the two of you. He crossed his arms around his chest, scatters of snow crunching under his boots as he made his way towards you.

“Is there a problem?”

“Mike,” Steve said, any specific emotion unreadable in his voice. He looked the man up and down as if to intimidate, but Mike didn’t budge. “…What’re you doing here?”

“My job,” He said sternly, to which you smirked. His eyes darted between the two of you, and he cocked his head. “Is there an issue here, or?”

Steve cast you a frosty glare, to which you rolled your eyes. Shaking yourself off, you assumed a stricter posture before focusing your attention onto the smaller man in front of you.

“Mike —“ you said, matter of factly. “Be a dear and give me a ride to the leisure centre. I need a masseuse… I have a knot that just won’t go away,”

There was nothing but fury in Steve’s eyes as Mike nodded, stepping to the side to allow you to pass through to the vehicle. As he opened the passenger door for you, he could feel the older man’s stare, burning a hole in his neck and seeping out his insides. Shutting the door, he walked round to the other side of the car, jaw ticking and lips pulled into a straight line. He barely knew Steve, but what he did know was that he was an asshole.

The car ride was silent for all of two minutes when Mike perked up, clearing his throat whilst his eyes remained on the road. He’d only snuck occasional glances at your thighs, and even then he was unable to rid the image of you nude.

“…Who’s Vanessa?”

You scoffed, slumping back in your seat as you lay your head against the car window.

“So you did hear,” you chuckled defeatedly. “His daughter. He doesn’t want me to see her,”

“Oh,” was all Mike could say, and he decided to let you draw the emotion out of your body yourself.

“I hate when he does this!” You exclaimed, arms folded. “He makes me feel so dirty! Like, what the fuck is he saying? That I’m not good enough to meet her?!”

“I’m sure that’s not the case…” Mike said softly. “I mean, if it were down to me, I know I’d love for my daughter and girlfriend to hang out, especially during the holidays,”

The statement caused you to smile, and you shook your head defeatedly.

“I’m shacking it up with her father during the best time of year…” you said incredulously, looking out onto the icy white paradise around you. “She probably hates me…”

The thought of a girl being without her father on Christmas was enough to make you sob, salty tears pricking your eyes and eventually running down your cheeks. Covering your mouth, you let out a little whimper that alerted Mike, his kind brown eyes briefly leaving the road to watch your face. He wasted no time in pulling over, making sure the car was locked in position before he placed an arm on your shoulder, the sudden contact making you break down even more. Before he knew it, you were crying on his shoulder, hiding your face in the fleece-like insides of his jacket. The man remained quiet, but rubbed your back, narrowing his eyes as he tried to piece together your relationship.

He was beginning to lose himself in your scent when you pulled away, eyes red and slightly watery. Your faces were close, and you stared at him in a way that both made him feel guilty and aroused, eyes wide but enigmatic. He followed your gaze to his lips, and he slowly parted his own to exhale, hyper aware of the way his heart was pounding in his chest.

Brushing your fingertips across his cheeks, you leaned up to plant a kiss on his lips, your taste bittersweet as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper. He certainly hoped Steve wasn’t close behind, as he didn’t let go, instead parting his lips to whisper your name as your tongues began to dance against the others’. His hands were all over your body, and he was fairly certain that your hand had made his way to his pelvis, threatening to brush his cock.

He cursed himself when he gasped at the motion, which had caused you to pull away. As if you’d been under a spell, you felt flushed, stuck between wanting to leave the car and staying with Michael.

“Thank you…” you whispered, glancing down before looking out of the windshield. The reception to the rest of the resort wasn’t far from here, and you decided you needed to clear your head. “You’re a great guy, Mike.”

FRIDAY

It had been twelve hours since you’d shared a kiss with Mike, and he was beginning to think he’d known you forever. He couldn’t get it out of his mind, even when they’d received a severe weather warning at midday. Needless to say, he was excited to ring your particular lodge…Just as long as Steve didn’t answer.

“Hey, it’s Mike…We’re expecting a snowstorm in a couple of hours and we’re instituting a 7PM curfew,”

“Shit…Really?” You’d said, somewhat muffled, and Mike could hear you biting down on the fingertips of your thumb. “ I didn’t hear anything about this — Steve’s down at the casino…”

“I’m sure word will get to him,” he insisted. “Stay safe —“

“Wait, Mike? C-Can you come over? I want to make sure everything’s reinforced…”

It was apparent that you and Mike both knew that the lodges, especially the ones you were living in, were more than secure. You’d smiled and let out an exasperated, somewhat overdramatic ‘Thanks’, and had clasped your hands in front of you, leisurely strolling around the building as he confirmed the obvious. You seemed more free, whimsical even, dressed in a deep red couture tracksuit, perfectly painted toes on display. Perhaps the kiss, and Steve’s absence, had brought out the real you.

He didn’t know he could have such an effect on someone.

As he clicked off his flashlight, he smirked at you, to which you returned, and drummed his hand on the countertops.

“Is everything okay, Officer?” you lulled.

“A-Ok,” he hummed, watching as you walked closer towards him, a mischievous grin in your eye. He froze slightly when you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his front, but found himself relaxing into your touch, his own hands finding your hips.

“We have the house to ourselves…” you purred, beginning to stroke the back of his neck, causing him to twitch. He was simply too cute. “…And the view is lovely. But the company’s better…”

He nodded, lost in the way you began to pepper kisses to his neck and breath gently into his ear, that he hadn’t realised that the snow was beginning to fall…and it wasn’t about to stop.

“Shit…” he said under his breath, ruining the mood as he scrambled for his radio. He should’ve been back to the base a while ago.

“This is Mike calling in. The storm came in earlier than expected. I’m holed in at Lodge 305 waiting it out,”

“Received,” the static said. “Keep us updated.”

You could barely contain your enthusiasm at the fact, and Mike chuckled as you excitedly raced to the wine cabinet. It was going to be an interesting few hours.

LATER

“…Part of me hopes Steve never comes back,” you slurred, wine bottle in hand as you sprawled out on the king bed, your tracksuit top since stripped, leaving you in a vest. It was obvious to Mike that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath, neither.

Mike snickered.

“You’re still mad at him?”

“Yup,” you said, popping your ‘P’. “Asshole tried to propose to me at dinner yesterday. I said no,”

He was astonished that you said it so casually.

“Woah…”

“I know,” you grinned. “Wine?”

He looked up at you uncertainly. Not necessarily because it was wrong, but because he had no idea where the night would lead him if he took even as much as a sip. “I-I can’t, I’m on the job,”

“Just a little?” You whined. “For me?”

You watched him intently as he gave in, sipping the drink and holding it on his tongue. When he realised you were staring at him, you broke into a smile, edging closer to him on the bed.

“I love that you take your job so seriously,” you cheesed, running your finger down his arm. “Was this a boyhood dream?”

“Far from it,”

“Hm,” you said curiously, cocking your head. You’d been trying to figure Mike out for a while now. “So what’s the goal?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Just to see my sister happy, I guess,”

Your heart fluttered, and there was an incomparable sensation in your loins, biting up towards your stomach. Whether it was the alcohol, the heating, or something else - your body swelled, and you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“You’re so sweet,” you cooed, in that oh-so famously position in front of his face, arms entangled in his. “I love that about you, Mike,”

“Love?”

“I wish all guys were like you,” was all you said, and you thrust yourself on top of him, his back flat against the mattress. He didn’t stop you; letting you take charge as you straddled his torso, pressing your breasts against his chest as his hands found your body. He was insatiable, greedy yet very needy, and found himself succumbing to your every whim.

Mike let out a whimper as you rubbed yourself gently along his clothed cock, growing irritated at the layer of fabric between you two. You nipped at his ear and giggled, dancing your hands along his body before you reached his bulge, giving it a gentle squeeze before you went back to teasing him with your hips.

“D’ya want me, Mike?” you purred. “Say the word and I’ll be yours…”

“Mmfh…” he grumbled, trying and failing to pull himself away from you, particularly as his hands found your hardening nipples, desperate to take one between his teeth. “What about Steve?” He said from below you. “I could get fired, I —“

Cupping his face in your hands, you stared him down, voice almost emotionless as you spoke.

“Mike, you may not know it, but when you’re rich, you can get away with anything…”

That was enough confirmation as he needed as he arched his back, angling himself up into your kiss. He was both surprised and aroused at how firm your grip was on him, legs quite literally locking him down below you. Your wanting mouth was wide as your chest heaved, grinning down at him as you slid your arm back, down his pants to touch his hardened cock.

Mike shut his eyes and groaned as you tugged on him, expertly sliding your hips down his body, fixing yourself into position so that you were level his penis, your ass in his face.

“Touch me, Mike,” you slurred as you took him in your mouth, giddy as he pulled down your sweats a crack so that he could massage your ass, fingers lingering by your lacy underwear. His touch sent chills down your spine, prompting you to take him further, tongue flat against the underside of his organ. His index finger slipped into your crevice, stroking your walls before he slid a finger into your pussy, making you whimper. It had been so long since Mike had been touched - and had touched someone in such a way - that he wasn’t planning on letting go of the feeling any time soon.

Even if your boyfriend came in.

“Babe? I’m sorry, I got caught up in —“

“Steve!” You said sweetly, releasing Mike from your mouth with a ‘pop’. “How nice of you to join us!”

The wording struck Michael as odd, but he chalked it down to the thick layer of condescension in your voice.

Steve stared right past you and towards Mike, narrowing his eyes. The younger man swallowed, wanting to push you off of him, but found himself drawn to the silent aura of the man, much more the way a bulge was visible in his pants also.

“I can explain—“ he stammered, exasperated as you played with him in your hands, index finger and thumb squeezing the tip as your eyes darted between the two men. How were you so relaxed about this?

“No need to worry about it, Mike,” Steve said, his tone surprisingly sympathetic as he zipped down his own pants. “I don’t mind sharing her...In fact, I love showing my darling off,” he grinned, almost sadistically as he bared his teeth and dimples. Steve placed his larger, calloused hands on your neck, his thumb brushing your cheek affectionately as he did. Mike felt somewhat betrayed by the way there was a glint of happiness in your eye; much more the way he pulled you into a sloppy, passionate kiss as you stroked the older man instead of him.

Once the pair of you pulled apart, his blue eyes were clouded with lust as he patted your cheek, thumb tracing your lips before he pulled away. You kissed the digit tentatively, chin in the air as you glanced down at Mike, silent, but smiling.

Ironically, you were a healthy couple playing a twisted game, and you’d been in on it all along.

Steve cleared his throat, loosening a button on his shirt as you span around, your own pelvis holding down Mike’s own. Mike should’ve despised the situation in its entirety, but the way his cock twitched was undeniable. It was as if this fucked up situation were unlocking something within him, and he didn’t know for how much longer he could hold it back.

“…I love the way men like you look at her and want nothing more than to fuck her brains out. Do you know what it feels like to win? To know that she’s yours?” Steve drawled, watching almost in admiration as you pulled off your sweats, sliding your underwear to the side as you lined up Mike’s cock with your entrance.

“Of course you don’t,” he said condescendingly. “...Your life is about to be hell, Mike. You deserve something good…” The older man hissed, coincidentally aligning with the hiss from Mike’s own mouth who was too much in a state of ecstasy to register the comment. His precum was dribbling on your wet folds, and he longed for a bit of friction.

You placed a hand on Mike’s chest, smiling down at him with the same expression he’d come to fall for in the first place, paired with your soft, unsuspecting voice.

“Do you wanna fuck me, Mike? I bet you’d make me feel so good…”

“Y-Yeah..” he whimpered lowly, and he moaned as you sunk yourself onto his bare cock, gripping your body at the tight, wet pressure of your gummy walls. Steve hummed in amusement as he watched you begin to ride him; slowly at first, giving him enough leeway to insert himself into your mouth.

He’d had you a million times before, but he never grew tired of the sensation. He gripped the back of your head as he moved your face up and down his shaft, groaning as he fucked your mouth in tandem.

“You’ve always been a maneater, haven’t you baby?” Steve cooed. “My little slut,” he spat, and Mike furrowed his brows, feeling his cock twitch in you at the statement. You were clearly just a few rich people with a perverted pastime, and he’d been taken as collateral. He’d probably feel disgusted in the morning, but as of right now he was in heaven.

You steadied yourself on Mike’s cock, pressing down a hand into his pelvis as Steve’s grip tightened on your face, greedy as one hand reached down to grope your breasts.

“Go on, Mike,” he chuckled arrogantly. “Give em a feel,”

You took Mike's hand in your own, throwing your head back at the sensation of being fondled and prodded by two men simultaneously. Steve’s cock was hitting the back of your throat, your nose buried into the fabric of his clothes, stray grey pubic hairs tickling your nose as he did. Mike’s dick was buried in you, and you were 99% sure you’d sheathed himself to the hilt. You hadn’t even needed to move your hips for that long, and Mike had begun to take agency as rock his hips up into your own, the skin-on-skin sounds borderline pornographic.

“Shit,” Mike whispered, feeling his stomach begin to knot up, and you gasped, talking around Steve’s cock that sent vibrations through the spectacled man’s lower half.

“Are you gonna cum, Mikey? You wanna fill this pussy up?” you teased, circling your hips uncontrollably, Mike’s penetrative thrusts becoming shallow but frequent. He groaned in response, and Steve chuckled, one hand your back so he stabilised you, making sure your lush lips were still attached to his shaft. Mike may have been getting the goods, but he owned you, and his pleasure came first. Even in a group of three.

Feeling closer to your own orgasm, you slammed your hips down onto Mike, holding him in position as he came; desperately clutching the sheets as he spilled into you, mumbling to himself incoherently. Steve was gracious enough to pull himself from your mouth, a bridge of spit connecting you two as he did. Instinctively, you jerked him off, your warm hands sliding up and down effortlessly on his sloppy dick, still grinding your hips on Mike as he was beginning to come down from his high.

Steve came with a grumble, and it wasn’t long until you followed him after, grinning mischievously as fresh white trails of his seed painted your face. Glancing over at Mike - who looked totally spent - you ran your tongue along Steve’s pink shaft to clean him up, writhing as you stimulated Mike’s softening cock, producing a groan from the brunette.

You were light headed as you fell back onto the sheets, smiling as Steve stroked your semi-nude body adoringly, lulling you off to sleep.

THE MORNING AFTER

Mike was awakened to a banging on the door, swearing under his breath as he contemplated how this looked. Sitting up, he scanned the room for a sign of you, or even Steve, but to no luck.

He looked out of the window. The snowstorm was over.

Perhaps you’d just gone out for breakfast.

He hurried his clothes on, placing his hands on his hips as he tried to shake the hazy memories of the night before. He was just in time as an officer entered, worried as he saw his colleague enter with guns.

“W-What’s going on?” he asked, squinting.

“We have a warrant for a visitor's arrest,” he drawled. “A Mr William Afton…?”

Mike frowned. The name wasn’t familiar.

The officer raised a brow, leaving the room once the coast was clear. As he did, Mike caught a glimpse of the poster in his back pocket, the face painfully recognisable.

WANTED: Child abduction and murder.

#florence writes!!#william afton x reader x mike schmidt #steve raglan x reader x mike schmidt #fnaf smut #william afton smut #steve raglan smut #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader #steve raglan x reader #william afton x reader #dark! reader #fnaf x dark!reader #mike schmidt x dark!reader #dark fics

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redskull199987 · 7 months

Note

👤yo bro bestie my main man,how bout a William Afton/gn reader where Reader is at Aftons office to get a job and Willy Billy is just messing with them and they're really shy and just get embarrassed super easily.Afton offers them coffee and they take it even tho they don't like coffee.Reader isn't at his office for the first time.Like in THE MOVIE where Mike is at his office.Could you do som with that scene and a silly reader because I need it.(Mathew Lillard Afton if you didn't get what I was getting at because I'm rambling)

Career Counseling

William Afton x gn!reader Request Word count:1.2k Warnings:angstyyyyyyyy, but not overly angsty, my friend William here is just teasing you, he ain’t biting, Movie spoilers obviously Summary: After failing at the last job he assigned to you, you find yourself back at the office of your career counselor…Steve Raglan

Masterlist

You were back at his office. The last place where you wanted to be. Or did you? You weren’t entirely sure of what you wanted. After all, you weren’t even able to hold onto a job for more than a few months.

So, here you were again. Back on the creaky old chair in front of his even older wooden desk with the small name tag on it, that seemed to constantly remind you of your failure. Why else would someone spend so much time at a career counselors office? Surely, there wouldn't be another reason.

Your eyes were following his every movement, as he looked through your papers again, his back turned to you. He adjusted his glasses every now and then, until he finally turned on his chair, facing you again. You quickly straightened your back, your hands slightly squeezing the armrests of the chair. Mr Raglan gave you a small smile, before taking a look at your papers again.

You felt your heartbeat pick up, as his eyes wandered over the last page: the report of your last job. A job he had picked out personally and just for you. And you had messed it up. It was the easiest task really. All you had to do was stand guard at an office. But you managed to fall asleep during work, giving some stupid punks the chance to break in and steal anything and everything of value.

“You havin’ trouble sleeping?”

His question caught you off guard. You looked back up at his face, but he was still eying the Papers.

“Well, I-I kinda always had them, so…”, you stammered, fumbling with your hands and looking back to the ground.

“Honestly, I feel like you aren’t even trying.”, he only smiled and dropped the papers to his desk. He neatly folded his hands and looked at you expectantly.

When you didn’t say anything, he continued to elaborate:”You are back at my office for the..what is it now, third time? I give you the easiest jobs and yet, here we are again.”

It took you a few seconds to fully process what he had said and when you finally did, you knew that he was right. He really did give you the easiest jobs known to man. Jobs with literally only one task...and you failed at them.

“Coffee?”

His question successfully caught you off guard again and you gazed up at him with a confused expression on your face:”Sorry?”

“Uh, would you, would you like some…some coffee. I made some coffee.”, he asked again, getting up in the process and walking over to the small table behind you.

You only looked after him for a second, before finally answering:”Uhm eh no, I mean sure. Sure, I would like some.”

With a smile, Mr Raglan handed you a steaming mug of coffee and quietly sat back down behind his desk.

You had no idea why you said yes. You hated coffee. It was part of your sleeping problem and yet, here you were, sitting in front of your career counselor with a steaming mug of black coffee in your hands. You just tried to ignore it and took an experimental sip. And immediately you remembered why you hated coffee. The taste and smell triggered something inside you, that made you want to spit the coffee back into the mug. But as Raglan looked at you again, you gave him a reassuring smile and quickly swallowed the coffee, before putting the mug down in front of you, on his desk.

“So, I have to be brutally honest with you here, Y/N.”, Mr Raglan continued after a few seconds of silence,”Given your track record, your options are now severely more limited than they were the last two times that you were here.”

“I know, I know.”, you nodded,”Like I said before, I’ll take anything, anything that you got for me.”

“You know, it’s not that easy.”, Raglan smiled and took a sip of his coffee, all the while still looking at you. All you could do was nod, feeling incredibly small under his watchful gaze.

“I…I know I messed up big time, b-but I promise you, this time, it’s gonna work out. It has to. I got nowhere else to go.”, you explained with a shaky voice, not even daring to look at him.

With a smile, he only looked at you for another minute. Right, as you were about to get up to leave, he ushered you back in.

“I got a job for you.”, he explained,”Come on. Sit sit sit sit sit.”

You looked at him slightly confused. Mere minutes ago, he had told you that you were out of options and now he was making you a job offer?

“Okay ehm, what is it?”, you asked, after you sat back down. Raglan leaned forward on his desk and you quickly did the same in order to listen to him attentively.

“It´s a security gig.”, he proposed,”Similar to the last one you had. Full disclosure: it’s not great. Right? High turnover, that’s what we call it in the business, but you get to be your own boss. Sort of. And you only have to worry about one thing. Keeping people out. And-and you know, keep the place tidy.”

“That’s two things”, you assessed with furrowed brows. Was he really going to give you another job as a security guard? When you had failed so miserably at the last one?

Raglan could only shrug at your remark:”You want the job or not?”

You thought about it for a few seconds, while he looked at you expectantly.

“How’s the pay?”, you questioned further.

Raglan answered faster than you thought:”Not great. But…the hours are worst.”

He did say, the job wasn’t great, but this lousy? You decided to ask further:”When exactly?”

“I take it then, that you want the Job?”, Raglan answered with a counter question instead. You nodded, motioning for him to continue.

“Let me give you a little backstory then.”, he smiled,”This place was huge in the ‘80s with the kids. It’s been shut down for years. The only reason they haven’t given it the old wrecking ball treatment, is the owner’s a bit of a…Well, he’s kind of a sentimental guy, I guess. Just can’t bring himself to let it go yet.”,

He gave you a small chuckle, while looking to the ground like he was lost in his memories,”Yeah…Had some trouble with break-ins over the years. Drunks and vagrants mostly. Not ideal. Security system’s dated but fully functional. Floodlights on the outside. Cameras inside and outside. Fair warning: the electricity is a bit…iffy. Anything happens, there is a breaker in the main office. Just flip it. Uh, I guess, that’s about it. You know, the rest is pretty easy. Just keep your eyes on the monitors and keep people out. Piece of cake.”

After he finished his explanation, the two of you sat in silence for a minute, while you thought the whole thing over. On the surface, the job did seem fairly easy. Just like he said. But you couldn’t help yourself, feeling a bit…suspicious of it. Why had he only told you about it now? He could’ve told you the last two times you were at his office. Why now?

“So, what do you think?”

For a third and final time, his question pulled you out of your thoughts. Raglan looked at you with anticipation. Thinking about it one last time, you finally made your decision.

“When can I start?”

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suggs444 · 7 months

Text

Bad For Buisness, Part 2: William Afton/Steve Raglan x Reader.

Synopsis: Bad for buisness part two. You get bored of William’s lack of appreciation and attention toward you. You get reckless. William doesn’t like that.

TW: swearing, sexual tension, f1ngering, degrading.

authors note: loved writing this! some of william’s dialogue is from a Tarantino movie. it fitted the scene and i think it fits his character too. <33 anyways pls enjoy, i’m open for any feedback & requests !

Gif by brotherdusk

…

Being William’s coworker had it’s perks when it mattered. The secret of your sexual benefits between one another only made the job bearable. More exciting. Needless to say it was becoming more than just the intimacy, for you anyway. You thought about him more than you should. You wonder if he felt the same.

He’s a closed man. Sharp and abrupt. A man who is straight to the point and knows what he wants. Takes what he wants. Nothing goes by in the office without William’s say so. You liked that. You weren’t just fucking some guy. You were fucking the boss. Your boss. You had wondered whether he was just using you for his benefit but you quickly realised that you didn’t care. Anything from William is everything. You learnt to enjoy the scraps of attention. But god, you wanted more.

Your head was buried in your desk. Papers and folders relentlessly invading your space. A mess. You huff.

A tsk draws your attention upward.

It’s William. Standing over you on the other side of your desk. He’s holding a steamy mug of coffee. Probably black, no sugars. Just how he liked it.

“You know, they say the tidiness of your work space reflects your mental state.” He drawls, his tone more nasal than ever. Cockier than usual too. He always enjoys demeaning people, even you. And frankly? You like it.

But today?

You’re not in the mood.

You glare at him. This is the first time he’s spoken to you properly in days. And that is what he has to say? A prod. A tease. Such pointless information. You grind your teeth to bite back anything harsh.

Any ounce of humor slips from William’s expression as he sees you’re not reciprocating the same energy he is. You weren’t responding. Only glaring.

“Thank you for that, sir. I feel so enlightened, sir.” You bite, your tone sharp and stern. Almost as if you spoke the words through bared teeth. Irritation always gets the better of you. This felt like injustice. You’re always so good for him. Making him coffee, tending to his needs - keeping his secrets. And this is what you get?

“Though if that’s true then it’s a fucking miracle how your desk stays so tidy,” You spit, and then pause to take a breath.

“-sir.” You finish, offering a false smile.

William, shocked, stares.

His silence slowly worry’s you. You can almost feel yourself sinking from the instant guilt. He sees it plastered all over your expression. He only locks his jaw, peering sternly as he leans over your desk to you.

Dread consumes you. Regret. You gulp.

He leans right over your desk. His face inches from your own.

“My office.” Is all he says.

“Now.”

Shit.

You lead the way, entering his office first. He closes the door behind you as he steps in.

“Sir, I-”

“Plant yourself on that desk.” He interrupts, pointing at his desk. His expression is cold. His tone isn’t any better.

You look behind you at his desk. It was tidy. You look back at him just as fast in protest,

“Mister Afton-”

“I said plant yourself. Plants don’t talk.”

You pull a face of regret as you back up, not wanting to make him ask again. Wearily hoisting yourself up to sit on the desk. You press your legs together, tight.

He stands there for a moment. A hand on his hip and the other bringing his cup to his lips to take a gulp of hot coffee. The drink steams up his glasses for a second. You bite down hard on your lip to prevent a smile.

He notices and sighs, putting his mug down and taking off his glasses.

“Tell me, y/n,” He begins, pausing for a second as he takes his purple tie, using it to wipe the steam from his glasses.

“-why you think it’s appropriate to talk to your superior like that?”

He puts his glasses back on, scrunching his nose to push them up properly.

You gaze at him.

He cocks his head to the side, impatient and expecting. You don’t reply soon enough.

He walks up to you. His large hands falling onto your knees as he pries them apart. He settles between your legs, palms gliding up to rest on your thighs.

“Answer me when I talk to you.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“What’re you sorry for?”

“Not answering-”

“Wrong.” He cuts in.

“I’ll ask again. What’re you sorry for?”

Your chest heaves as you catch your breath. The anticipation is killing you. Your core throbbing. You try to close your legs. He tightens his grip on your thighs in response. One of his hands gliding further up your thigh. You tremble.

“I’m sorry for speaking to you the way i did.” You manage to whisper, your voice shaky.

He hums pitifully, “I can’t hear you, y/n. Speak the fuck up.” His palm abruptly occupies the warmth between your legs. You jolt. He sneers.

You grind into his palm, “I’m sorry for speaking to you the way I did!” You say again, louder this time.

His fingers press against your clothed folds, collecting the wetness that seeped there. You mewl, he grins.

“Yeah,” He mutters, “Is that what this is? Huh? You’re just needy?”

Your head falls slack, dazed from the overwhelming lust. You press your forehead against his shoulder. His lips ghost your ear.

You feel his stubble scratch and prick your skin. You shiver, wincing but leaning into him. Intoxicated. His fingers push aside your panties, delving into your wet folds. A squelch noise welcomes him. He groans.

“What a fucking mess.” He grits, using his spare hand to twist into your hair and yank your head back. He wants to see that pretty face.

He pushes a finger into your seeping hole. Then another, twisting them in unison as they sink into you, curling and pumping.

“There. How’s that feel, huh? Was it worth it?”

You’re in heaven. Moaning so blissfully. The pleasure so intense that you can barely compose yourself. He grimaces and pulls his fingers out, leaving you empty. The lack of makes you whine, clutching him. He brings his fingers to your mouth, pressing their way in.

“Clean them.”

You oblige, eager. Sucking them so hard as you taste yourself. He’s glaring at you, his teeth slightly bared.

“You’re gonna earn my attention, y/n. Got it?”

He tightens the grip in your hair and he moves your head up and down so it looks like you’re nodding yes. You’re mouth to busy accommodating his fingers to reply. You hum instead.

“First step,” He says, pulling his fingers from your mouth and hoisting you off his desk and onto your feet.

You look up at him.

“Clean your fucking desk:”

#william afton x reader #william afton #fnaf movie #fnaf #steve raglan #matthew lillard #five nights at freddy's

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oftenwantedafton · 5 months

Text

New Year’s Eve - Steve Raglan/William Afton x Female Reader

Rating - Explicit

Warnings for sexual content, prostitution, daddy kink, sexual roleplay, spanking

Also on AO3

Summary - You may be young, but you’re already wise to the way the world works. You’re good at what you do; a sex worker with intuition and an uncanny understanding of each client’s deepest desires.

When the middle aged career counselor pulls up to your street corner the night before New Year’s Eve, you think it will be an easy job for a decent amount of cash.

You’re about to discover this customer is unlike anyone you’ve ever met.

You hear it before you see it: the luxury sedan a vintage model from the late seventies, its engine throaty. Modern cars don’t sound like that; you know the difference because one of your first boyfriends had been into cars.

The dark vehicle pulls neatly along the curb and halts and you shift from the street lamp post you’d been leaning against, grateful that some perverted asshole has taken notice and was going to get you out of the cold.

The driver’s side window eases down—crank, you think, this was before power controls, luxury or not—and you have your first sight of the man. Middle aged, a few lines here and there, salt and pepper hair, neatly trimmed beard. Aviators seated in front of wide set pale blue eyes. He’s wearing a long sleeved dress shirt and tie, you note; it’s a good sign, maybe you’ll be making some decent cash tonight and get a bonus because it’s the night before New Year’s Eve and gratitude stretches on the holidays.

You grin, a cherry red stretch of painted lips, toying coquettishly with the hem of your black skirt, worrying at a rip in the matching fishnet stockings. “Hey there. You looking to have some fun?”

The man’s face is expressionless, and for a moment you wonder if he’s not undercover. Fuck, you really didn’t need this kind of trouble.

“Get in,” he says, his voice a rough scrape of sound.

“Sure, as soon as we talk prices, just so we’re both on the same page. It’s—”

You never get to finish, your eyes widening when he holds out several large bills pinched between two long, slender fingers.

“Consider it an advance.”

You reach for the money and fold it tightly

into your palm. “Okay.” You loop around the front of the car, seeing him leaning over to pull the tab up to unlock the door for you and you slide inside onto the vinyl seat, dumping your oversized purse on the floor between your feet.

The car’s interior is blessedly warm and you resist the urge to hold your hands in front of the vents. The stranger still isn’t speaking and the awkward silence drags on. You’re clearly going to have to direct things here. Maybe it’s his first time with a sex worker. “So, what are you into? I’m pretty good at roleplay if that’s your thing. You know, like a police officer and a criminal or a father and daughter or a school teacher and a student or—”

“—Wait. The second one.”

Of course he’d pick that. So many men did.

“But not looking like that.” He frowns, his eyes roving over the leather jacket and halter top disapprovingly, then down to the skirt and fishnet stockings before snapping back to your face. “And not wearing all that makeup. Clean faced. Hair natural. You understand?”

You blink, then nod. Okay, he was particular. Not everyone wanted a quickie. You didn’t really mind either way as long as you got paid, and this guy was already paying you well.

He digs in his pants pocket, extracting a small plated case with business cards in it. He selects the topmost one and tucks another pair of bills beneath it, handing it to you. “For your time tonight. Be at this address tomorrow at nine.” He pauses, eyes flicking down to your legs again. “Maybe a schoolgirl uniform. Regular stockings.”

“Yeah, I get you.”

He turns his attention back to the road and you feel like you’re being dismissed. You grab your bag and shove the door open, stepping up onto the curb and back out into the cold December air.

You watch the sedan’s narrow rectangular tail lights fade as the man drives away, the money and business card curled tightly in your palm.

Easiest money you’ve ever made.

***

The office building’s parking lot is nearly vacant, save for the car you recognize from the night before.

You direct the taxi driver towards what looks like the main entrance, wondering if it will even be unlocked, but as the cab pulls closer you realize there’s a tall figure standing just inside the doors, and you know it’s your customer.

You hand money to the driver and walk towards the glass doors. One folds inward and you step inside the opening.

“Hi.”

He doesn’t respond, turning and walking towards an elevator. You trail after, following him inside. He punches the button for the fourth floor and you stand across from him. He hasn’t looked at you since you’d first entered the building and you’re unsure of what to think. You’d been careful to follow his instructions from the previous evening, wearing a plain white blouse and navy cardigan over a gray plaid skirt that ends a few inches above your knees, thigh high white tights tucked into platform Mary Jane’s, everything demurely covered, your face clear of makeup and your hair free of product, the picture of innocence.

The elevator halts and the doors chime before sliding apart. You’re guided through a series of corridors before you reach an unmarked wooden door, the nameplate mounted on the wall beside it matching the one on the business card he’d handed you the night before: Steven Raglan, Career Counselor.

You enter the room and hear the door close behind you with a soft click. The office is illuminated by a solitary desk lamp casting a soft yellow glow over the space. There’s one solitary window, the gray blinds covering it drawn tightly closed. A map and a photograph of some nature scene decorate two of the walls, the rest covered with framed accolades — degrees, awards—this guy is good at his job, apparently. Everything is neatly organized, from the books and binders slotted on the shelving unit behind the desk to the items on the desk itself, the desk blotter covered by a calendar clear of paperwork, the cursive writing on several squares neat and precise, the stack of blank paper next to the electronic typewriter pristine in the box it lays in.

Steve settles into the swivel leather office chair behind the desk, pulling open one of the drawers of the nearest filing cabinet and withdrawing a folder. He spreads it open over the calendar, reaching for the pen resting beside it, still seemingly ignoring you.

You’ve dealt with a variety of personality types in your brief time working the streets, but this blatant disregard is something completely new, throwing you off your game. You sit in one of the chairs across from him, pondering what it was the man expected, watching one of the more prominent veins in his pale hands shift as he begins writing.

“What are you working on?”

“Something important. Don’t interrupt me.”

You shift a little in your seat. What the fuck was with this guy?

A few more minutes pass and you find yourself growing more impatient. You were going to have to make him pay attention. You stand, fingers wrapping around the arm rest of the chair before dragging it around the desk so it’s beside the seated man. He pauses mid pen stroke, the only acknowledgment of what you’ve just done before he resumes writing.

You cross your legs, working on the buckle of one of your shoes, repeating the process for the opposite foot. You see the hesitation last longer this time and you smile inwardly. Yeah, he’s noticing. This was the game he wanted to play.

You subtly inch the chair closer, then casually let one stockinged foot slide up the leg of his pants. You’re rewarded with a little hitch of breath. You reach his knee before he halts your progress, his hand closing warmly over your foot.

“I told you not to interrupt me.”

You smirk, slouching down further and raising your other leg, skimming along shin and stroking against calf before your foot shoots across his thigh and rests against his crotch.

He drops the pen. “What did I just…”

Your foot teases along the fly of his pants and the rest of the reprimand dies and he releases his hold on you. You feel the hard outline of his cock, massaging, toes curling and stretching, sole and arch and heel stroking and grinding.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I can’t help it.” You bite your bottom lip, continuing to rub against his clothed erection.

That does it.

His eyes snap to your face, pupils dilating with desire. You can hear every coarse, desperate drag of air he pulls into his lungs.

“Come here.”

You draw your legs back and sit up, stockings sinking into Berber carpet.

He pushes back to make room for you on his lap. “Bend over.”

You obey, your breasts mashing into his thighs as you rest your body weight over his legs. You feel the hem of your skirt lifting, inverted and dropped onto your lower back, exposing the plain white panties you’re wearing. The older man massages one cheek, then the other, kneading each globe with equal attentiveness. You squirm and he halts, reaching for the waistband and tugging the undergarment down, just enough to reveal what he wants access to, your underwear now bunched mid thigh. He traces the lace pattern of your stockings, dragging a thumb against the inside of one thigh but stopping well short of where you want him. You feel your arousal leaking out of you, a slow trail of clear fluid dripping down.

This detail clearly hasn’t escaped his attention.

He lets his fingers glide through it briefly, then his hand disappears and you whimper in disappointment.

That’s when his hand returns, this time a hard slap against one cheek.

Fuck.

He follows through with several more strikes that are firm enough to sting and you imagine your ass is quite red already. His fingers dip between your narrowly spread, trembling legs and a pair of them punch easily through your dripping entrance, curling and stroking you inside.

“Daddy…it feels so good.”

“You like that, baby girl?” It’s the first time he’s spoken in awhile and his voice is even dryer and rougher than you’re accustomed to. He sounds almost raw, like the words are being torn from somewhere deep inside of him.

“Mmm-hmm.”

He continues fucking you with his fingers but abruptly withdraws them when he feels the muscles inside tightening, preparing for release.

“Not yet. I want you to cum in my mouth.”

Your pussy throbs and you stand just long enough to be repositioned, this time laid on your back over the desk. You can smell ink and paper and the fragrance of your own arousal.

He pulls your panties off the rest of the way and spreads your legs apart and his tongue thrusts inside without preamble. It’s long, the muscle stretching and curling inside your canal as his nose presses against your clit so he can get in deep.

“Daddy,” you gasp helplessly, reaching for whatever you can get ahold of, fingers curling into the soft waves of his hair. He replaces his tongue with his fingers again, sucking at the bundle of nerves below your mound. “Please make me cum, Daddy.”

He moans against you, the fingers inside of you working fervently, his tongue a blur of motion against your clit and you feel yourself shatter, coming apart warm and liquid against him, your thighs shaking violently, struggling to snap closed when the sensation becomes too much but he’s relentless, savoring the quivering of your flesh for a few more moments before he finally pulls away, easing back against the padded chair.

You struggle to recover, the pleasant tingling spasms still snapping through your body as you push yourself up on your elbows and then use the palms of your hands to lurch upright. You can feel whatever papers he’d been working on plastered beneath your bare, damp skin.

The client looks absolutely wrecked. His beard is wet with your juices, glasses askew, the tidy part of his hair mussed, sending a dark tendril across his forehead. You slide off the desk and kneel down, removing his glasses and setting them gently on the desk behind you, then reaching for the belt at his waist. He watches your movements with dark, hungry eyes. The leather strap releases from its metal entrapment and the button and zipper of his fly surrender next. The purple boxer briefs are the final obstacle, the waistband smacking with an elastic snap somewhere at the base of his cock after you wrench them down. You let your fingers drag through the trail of precum ozzing down the shaft, teasing him, watching his reaction.

“Open your mouth, baby.” His large hand is heavy against your cheek, thumb pressing on your bottom lip, encouraging you to cooperate. You open for him, watch the languidly draped form straighten, bringing his hips forward, his fat prick stretching your lips. He’s one of the larger men you’ve been with; probably even the largest. The kind of dick that porn stars are blessed with, and fuck if he isn’t testing your ability right now, pushing himself in further along your tongue, the head hitting the back of your throat. “Good girl. You can take all of it, baby. You’re doing so well.”

He knots a hand in your hair and tugs your head back, easing the rest of the way inside that moist cavity, then holding himself there, studying the flare of your nostrils and the tears leaking from the corners of your eyes before he finally relaxes, withdrawing, and you cough, gagging, his member now slick with a thick layer of your saliva.

You grab a few quick lungfuls of air, preparing yourself for the next push. “I love your fat cock, Daddy.” You stroke over the shaft, the wet sounds lewd.

“”I know you do, baby. Suck it again.”

You let him fill your mouth again and again, allow him to direct how quickly your head moves back and forth as he fucks into your mouth, the lazy pace picking up speed as the pleasure mounts and his urgency grows. “You’re such a good girl,” he praises. “You’re going to make me cum.” His eyes are so, so black, so far above you because he’s so tall, watching you raptly, a hawk studying its prey. A tremor wracks the thigh you’re clutching and he groans as he spills directly onto your tongue.

You swallow the bitter liquid down as his grip in your hair relaxes, surprised when he offers a hand to pull you to your feet. His thumb is back at your bottom lip again, his eyes focused on your mouth. The first lesson you’d ever been taught was never to kiss the customer. It was too personal, too intimate; when you’re willing to sell every piece of your self, it’s the one thing you get to cling to that’s untarnished and untouched.

You are so tempted to break that rule right now; wish he’d just do it for you. Instead his hand drops and he begins straightening his clothing. You hike your panties back into place, smoothing down your skirt while he tucks his shirt tails back into his pants and draws up the zipper. You sit in the chair you’d dragged over earlier in your session, reaching for your shoes, the man surprising you again when he kneels down, helping you slide each foot in and fastening the buckles, the touches oddly tender.

You murmur your gratitude and stand, allowing him to guide you to the restroom across the hall. He’s standing by the door when you exit, more cash waiting for you crushed in his fist.

The money is warm, like he’s been holding it for awhile. You follow him back to the elevators, the ride back down to the first floor silent and swift. You eye the phone on the receptionist’s desk, thinking you’ll use it to call for another cab when his voice interrupts you.

“I can give you a ride home.”

Rule number two: don’t invite the client back to your place, or go to theirs; keep the meetup somewhere public. Followed by the next: once you’ve completed the transaction, go your separate ways. Don’t linger. Time was money. It was strictly about business.

You hesitate.

“Or wherever you want to go,” he adds, as if sensing your reluctance to accept the original offer. “We could get some champagne. Toast in the New Year.” His eyes are still dark, the hunger not nearly sated, his fingers twitching as if he wants to touch you again.

You know right then you’re going to break the commandments you’ve been given.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #steve raglan x you #steve raglan x reader #fnaf fanfic #fnaf movie #william afton #steve raglan #dividers credit @ saradika

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zombieluver · 6 months

Text

Helping hand

Steve Raglan/William Afton x reader

about: you're new to town, and looking for a job, you end up with help from a man named Steve Raglan, who ends up being more charming than you thought.

tw: nothing for this chapter

authors note: i plan on making about 9 parts for this, i hope people enjoy this! part 2 should be up soon. also there's no use of y/n in this

You find yourself before a very disinterested older man.

Steve Raglan was the name written on the name placard on his desk.

He hummed softly, sifting through papers. "So, why here?"

"What do you mean?" You ask.

He lays the papers down neat on his desk, and claspes his hands together, resting his chin atop them. "Why this town? Why Minnesota?" He asks, looking curious.

"Oh, um. My mother passed when we lived out of state, so I moved here to get away from the area. Fresh start. I don't know anything about Minnesota, and figured somewhere close but not too close to the cities would be nice."

He hums again, seemingly satisfied. "Well, lucky for you, I know just the job. Given your track record of jobs and a very open and pleasant attitude, there's a store close to here that needs a front secretary."

"Oh! Perfect." You smile.

He matches your smile, and you notice his eyes crinkle at the corners, it making his duller eyes shine a little.

"Perfect? Yeah, that's how I'd describe this, too. Want coffee?"

"What kind?"

He stands and walks behind you, "Well, I got black coffee, but I have sugar and cream."

You pause, then decide what the hell, "Sure, I'll have a cup."

"Fantastic." Steve says.

A minute later, you have a warm cup in your hands, "So, what do I need to do to apply for the job?"

Steve shuffles through some papers, "Well, I'll fill out the paperwork, and you tell me your answers, alright? Then we can send you on your way."

You nod, taking a sip of coffee.

Steve asks you typical questions for an application, and you answer each with ease. Only pausing to struggle to remember phone numbers for reference.

He asks about an emergency contact, and you frown, "Why would I need that for an application?"

"Some places want one. In case anything happens during an interview, they're able to get a hold of someone."

You lean back, sighing and nervously push your hair back, "Well, I don't have anyone. Only people I know are states away."

Steve pauses, then jots something down on the paper, "For now, we can list myself as your emergency contact."

"Do you do this for everyone?"

"Not usually, normally I'd put down the secretary, but I can make an exception for someone like you."

"Someone like me?"

"Y'know, new to town and a very positively polite person. I can't not want to help out if I'm able."

You blush a little and try to cover it with your coffee.

All too soon, your application is finished, and your coffee has been long gone.

Steve smiles and slips the papers into a folder with your name on it. "Well, it was very pleasant to chat with you today."

"Likewise." You say, smiling back.

"Is there a number I'm able to reach you at? In case this place has any questions?"

You nod, jot down the number for your tiny brick of a mobile, and pass the sticky note to him. "Here, it's my personal cellphone."

Steve's smile widens, and you wonder if he was totally honest about his intentions with wanting your number.

"It was pleasant to meet you.." He pauses before going to look at your file.

You laugh softly and repeat your name to him as you stand up.

He repeats your name softly to himself, almost as if he were committing it to memory, then smiles softly, "Right, well have a good day, I'll contact you in the future with any updates."

You smile back, "Thank you, Mr. Raglan."

"Steve," He corrects, "Just call me Steve."

"Alright then, Steve. I'll look forward to your call."

He waves a little, and you exit his office, door clicking softly behind him. You stand there for a moment, feeling slightly ridiculous by how charming he was.

Then, you walk away, realizing there's still other people here waiting to meet with him, and you still need to get home.

#ichor flows #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #five nights at freddys movie #william afton #steve raglan #william afton x reader #steve raglan x reader #fnaf #fnaf x reader #x reader

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p1llow-w1llow · 6 months

Text

Surprise ~

William Afton/Steve Raglan x gn!reader

Summary: Your older brother doesn’t return from his nightshift and, unbeknownst to you, your little sister Abby sneaks out, so you go to the one place you think they might be, Fazbears.

TW!

Dub-con, implied character death, violence, swearing, angst-ish, creepy old man in a fursuit.(tell me if I missed any)

(Just saying this is rlly long bc I’ve had this idea in my hollow head for a while now- one of those bedtime scenarios yk and ik it’s bad but just trust me🥲)

!Not proofread!

~~~~~~

Puddles of rain water seeping into your ragged shoes as you raced through the parking lot. The rain hit your coat with a thud as you rushed over to the main entrance which, to your dismay, was locked.

“Shit..”

Mumbling incoherent swears, you finally had an epiphany. You raced to the side of the building, lifting the heavy steel garage door with a grunt and forcing yourself under it before it slammed shut.

“Hello..?” You called out into the void in front of you. A shiver ran down your spine as a draft from the restaurant slid up your back. With heavy steps echoing as you walked across the glossy yet dirty floor, unsteadily braced and ready for action. “Abby? Mike?” You called out as you opened the doors ahead of you.

Heart racing, you wearily stepped forward. Your dad had always told you about Freddys, it wasn’t what you had pictured when he told those dramatised stories. He never showed you pictures, never allowed you to go to it despite it being not too far away from your home.

When your brother told you about the job offer he had been given your heart sunk- it only cracked the linoleum floor in your kitchen when you were told to come and keep an eye on Abby with him on duty because Max hadn’t shown up. That night you watched your brother and sister doze off, giving you the chance to finish your book. Your sister woke up around 3-4ish and needed the toilet so you walked her. On the way back you found what you believed to be the reason for your father’s secrecy on the topic of this hellscape. Watching the creatures jolt to life and race toward you and your sister was less than enlightening.

Someone shook you out of your daydream.

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Oh for god’s sake, Mikey- don’t do that.”

“Y/N, it’s not safe here.”

A light scoff escaped you as your crossed your arms. “Mikey, if it’s dangerous why’re you here with Abbie?”

Mike fumbled for his words before you felt someone wrap their arms around your waist.

Abby’s soft sobbing, her tears staining your shirt. Pulling her close, you tried your best to console her. Her incoherent mumbling about the robots trying to hurt her made your head snap over Mike with a concerned look and Vanessa not too far away seeming guilty offered a small apologetic smile.

Before Mike could even try to fill you in on what’s happened in the last half hour, your heads all shot over as loud footsteps emerged from the darkness near the entrance.

A grossly low, robotic chuckle bellowed from the black sheet of night that covered the area in front of you. Two glowing eyes slunk their way forward, searching the room before settling on the four of you.

Your grip on Abby tightened as you backed away from the intimidating figure who trudged towards the four of you.

“Ah…so they were right.” The Golden Bunny spoke roughly, “The little ones told me you had a sister..but not another sibling, Mikey.” His voice like venom as he spat out the nickname, as if it were offensive.

Vanessa created a barrier between you, Abby and the furry, aiming her gun at it as well for safe measure.

Your breath hitched as Mike ran forward and shot at the thing with a taser, but to no avail. The monster hardly even flinched, a menacing breath slipped out as it swatted the taser away as if it were a worthless fly. Mike swiftly backed away, almost in line with you and Abby before the creature kicked him to the floor.

“Now, this is priceless.” The creature taunted as it’s attention swerved to Vanessa who stood her ground in front of you, “A bit too old to be playing with toys, eh, Vanessa?”

“Dad, stop this. Just let them leave, please.” Vanessa glanced over her shoulder to Abby and you, giving a small, reassuring smile as she did.

Abby leapt out your arms and over to Mike, wrapped her arms around him and squeezing tight. You felt hot tears roll down your cheeks as you followed her, watching your brother writhe in pain. The room was void of all sound except breathing as you and your baby sister attempted to wake your brother up so you could run together.

Abby smiled softly as Mike’s eyes opened. In a gentle voice Mike began telling you two to hide. While you were all for taking your brother’s advice, all Abby wanted to do was stay and help him get better.

Without hesitation, you grabbed Abby and began pulling her out the way. You yelped as you heard an argument break out between the Rabbit and Vanessa, ending in Vanessa’s gun being fired and a loud thud, which you hoped and prayed was the robot.

“Where do you two think you’re going.?” The Rabbit yelled out.

You spun around and glared at the robot before taking off down a hall, practically pulling Abby behind you.

A glimpse of metal on the wall caught your eye as you looked around. A vent. Rushing over, you tore the vent cover off the wall, letting the loose screws fly across the floor. As the vent cover hit the floor, you instinctively turned away. The vibrant smell of mildew and blood flowed through and filled the hallway.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your heart raced as you heard the screws shake and swivel with each step that thing took. Making it’s tauntingly slow approach to you and Abby.

You hurried Abby into the vent and told her to get to the security office and lock the door, assuring her you’d be right behind her the whole way.

Thump, thump, thump.

Its pace quickened as it reached the corner.

Abby’s voice called out for you, bringing you out of your stunned state and causing you to get on your knees and start crawling.

“Not so fast~”

Abby shot around as she heard your scream. Fear was prominent in her watery eyes as she watched the robot pull you back out. She crawled quickly over to you and grabbed your hand, trying to pull you back in.

“Abby, I-I’ll be fine, get to the office and throw things against the door- do not let anyone in!”

“But-”

“Go to the security room now!”

Her eyes welled with tears as she watched her sibling let go of her hand and be dragged off by some golden suited freak. As worried as she was, she knew you had the right idea. Abby hurriedly scampered off to the office and left you to your fate.

~~~~

“You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” He growled into your ear. With his mask off, you could see him properly. Ocean blue eyes, messy greying hair, if it weren’t for the scenario you would’ve been mesmerised by this man.

The situation hit you as you felt his hand trail down your body, outlining your figure and pinning you down under his body. You felt the coarse fabric rub against your hips and thighs as he lifted your clothes to ‘feel’ your skin.

Your breathing constricted even more as he leaned down, his heavy suit adding pressure to your chest, with his lips hovering above yours.

It was difficult for you to even think of what was going through his mind as he pinned you there for what seemed like hours.

“Get the fuck off me!” You barked out in a small, wheezy voice.

“Ooh, feisty as well as pretty, I love that. I’ll have fun putting you in your place.”

A shiver ran up your spine as he spoke. Despite how absolutely mortified you are at the moment, pinned to the floor beneath a murderer who is set on ending you and your family, you noticed a warmth building inside your core.

“Y’know,” his lips slowly teased your own as he let them drag across your skin all the way down to your jaw. He slowly sat up and straddled you.

Suddenly, the lining of your jeans was lifted, two fingers slipped down to tug on the hem of your underwear. The bunny-man trailed his robotic fingers across your body, from your crotch to your chest only to rest on your chin. His grip tight around your jaw as he pulled you close enough to feel his breath on your face.

“I think I’ll keep you.”

~~~~~~

2/12/23 Saturday 05:59

#steve raglan #wish he would rail me tbh #super jealous frfr #steve raglan x reader #william afton #william afton x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf movie #fanfic #x reader

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mcondance · 4 months

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hush baby. william afton. (allusions to daddy issues, general old william using / taking advantage of young reader yk the drill)

william fucks like his age. he fucks like a man who knows what he wants from years of getting. he will get what he wants from you, too.

he drains you of everything you can give him and then, he pushes for more, craving complete control of every thing you feel. its why he picked you, could just see you ending up like this, a slut for his taking, nasty and open to the filthiest things he’s only ever dreamed about.

it’s sad, what you went through to end up like it like this, used and shown no respect in your most vulnerable state, but he pays it no mind when he’s driving into you from behind, towering over your body and stretching your cunt to its limit.

amusement is written over his hardened face, the hilarity of what you allow him to do to you overtakes him as he watches himself breach your entrance over and over again, your cunt having to work to take him like your body knows this is wrong.

but it lets him in, you let him in like it’s right, wince through the pain until it turns to pleasure and he’s battering your pussy with no regard for the pain that’ll resurface the next day.

pain is how he got you, tucked away in your brain, steering you toward a man like him. and pain is how he keeps you, the dull ache of his cock abusing your pussy, the digging of his fingers tucked between where your thighs and tummy meet, the stimulation sending sparks shooting through you.

you’re so nasty when you’ve got a nastier man inside you, when his want to unwind you and use you is reciprocated. drooling on his bed sheets, leaking on his cock, the perverted desire of his heart is realized.

he’s got you singing, speared on his cock and taking it so well. he fucks you like he’ll throw you out tomorrow and you welcome it, soak his cock every time your mind registers the brutishness behind his thrusts, every time he manhandles that spot inside you.

your fingers curl around the column of his headboard, clamping down on them to award yourself some semblance of grounding but it’s in vain, he’s too ruthless and horrific, fucks you too deep with every sob he retches out of your raw throat.

you let him do what he wants, and that’s exactly what he does. you’re all wet cunt and choked moans, a test subject for his disregarded boundaries. his boundaries are your boundaries, the wires crossed and fused incorrectly a perfect path for his will to become reality.

he’s taking advantage of you, it’s what you both know, know what business a man his age has with a girl yours.

but being taken advantage of is how you like it.

every push into you is meant to to hurt, to make those crossed wires fizzle and spark with satisfaction. maybe it doesn’t count as being used if it’s what you want, too. it’s lost in translation, by now, only left with william fucking you exactly how you’d expect him to, how you fantasized about from the moment you saw him.

he’s thankful to have someone like you, someone who’ll let him push and poke and prod and mold into his. he goes crazy every time you bite and choke on your moans, every time you huff and rasp like he’s wounded you but make no move to run from him or to stop. he likes it filthy, and in you, he can have that whenever he wants. he can be what you need, if you let him have you in return. you do let him have you.

you say his name like a prayer, choked and battered and begging for him to twist and turn you inside out just like he wants to. willing to be used, to be fucked dumb and brash.

you like it like this, domination has revealed you as a drooling, moaning, vile mess. it lay dormant, waiting for someone to draw it out. waiting for william to lay you bare and new.

#william afton smut #william afton x black reader #william afton x reader #did all this just to say william is a freak and he brings out the freak in you #william afton x you #steve raglan smut #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x you #steve raglan x black reader #cw daddy issues

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justsomerandomfanfic · 5 months

Text

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

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

Steve Raglan/William Afton X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Pete the Chef OC and Marie OC

WC: 2,917

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No, I'm alright."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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bratphilia · 6 months

Note

Heyyyy so I was the person that requested more fics like the flip side (it’s 6 am and I can’t remember if that’s what it’s actually called atm) but I was thinking about possibly a situation where reader has a history with William possibly when they worked at Freddy’s before they shut down and were younger (still of age though; I’m thinking probably when they like reopened for a little bit in the early 90s). Now in the I guess present day they aren’t exactly going out with mike but maybe they are a babysitter and mike and reader are pining over each other?? But him working there brings up bad past memories of your time there but you don’t really want to tell mike.

Honestly looking for lots of tension, slow burn, pining, and angst but not too much angst yk and ofc nsfw

Sorry if this is like too specific or whatever but this has been on my mind for sure

note: i did some age calculating to fit with the timeline so reader is 18 in 1993 and 25 (the same age as mike) in 2000. creds to michy for convincing me this was actually post-worthy.

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader x mike schmidt

tags: threesome, rough sex, dub/con, age difference

taglist: @dilfity

triangle (w. afton x reader x m. schmidt)

(in november, 1993, you're a fresh hire at freddy's and the youngest adult on the staff at eighteen years old. it's not an ideal workplace by any means, but it's decent compared to other jobs that you most definitely didn't qualify for. and the people at freddy's are nice! maybe a little too nice, but the motto for the employees was "remember to smile, you're the face of the company" after all.

you work mainly as a waitress. you would say you're pretty good at your job. you're nice to the customers and work surprisingly well with the kids. the uniform is admittedly cute, too. red vest and a black pencil skirt. your skirt, for some reason, came in a bit too small prompting a few lingering glances from employees and patrons, but besides that you don't really mind.

it's a cold, rainy day in autumn. you wish you were wearing pants, but for once you're thankful for the lack of air conditioning in the restaurant. it's closing time and you're heading back to the employees room to grab your jacket and umbrella. you sit on the red, metal bench waiting for your sister expectantly. you never bothered to get your own license because she's always been a reliable source for rides everywhere. tonight was not one of those days. it's been at least an hour. your leg bounces up and down.

you hear the doors shut and a jingle of keys, and the distant scent of cigarette smoke lingers. you turn to see your boss, mr. afton, locking up the restaurant. he turns to you too, clearly confused why you're still here. "shouldn't you be home by now?"

you swing your legs and sigh. "my ride never showed."

he clicks his tongue and looks out to the parking lot, then looks back at you. "why don't i take you home?" you realize in this moment you and mr. afton have never quite really spoke. he's one of the thirty-something-year old owners of freddy's. he wears the springbonnie suit sometimes and performs with the co-owner, mr. emily, for the kids on fridays and saturdays. he's very charismatic and sociable, but mainly with the older crowd of the employees at freddy's. you hear some of your colleagues whispering about him, how he's such a kind and handsome man, which, as you're getting a good look at him right now, the latter is definitely true.

"are you sure?" you ask. mr. afton smiles down at you.

"sure thing. follow me." it's a huge upgrade to what you were previously considering before his offer: walking home in the pouring rain and chancing ruining your uniform.

you follow close behind him. so close that your umbrellas slightly bump into each other. a deep purple-paint-detailed mercedes-benz comes into view. judging by mr. afton's clear affinity for the color purple, as he includes it in at least one part of his daily attire, you assume it's his. he opens the car door on the passenger's side for you.

"thanks," you say politely.

in december, 1993, mr afton — who you've come to know as william — has become a frequent presence in your life. it started when he actually asked you if you wanted another ride home. you had phoned your sister, letting her know there was a change of plans. this became an everyday thing until you no longer needed to call home.

you would be lying if you said you hadn't started to develop feelings for him somewhere along the way. how could you not? he was just such a nice man! so charismatic, not just with you, but with the customers. always asking everyone how their day is going and dropping whatever he's doing to help out. there's was something special about your connection with him. he made you feel special.

it was one rainy day, just like the day back in november, when he stopped you and leaned in and kissed you. it was the most unexpected thing that happened to you in awhile. you don't know what possessed him to do it, but you found yourself eagerly kissing him back. so much that he chuckled and commented on it before sending you off. you spent the rest of the night lying awake in bed, touching yourself to every possibility you could think of.

the next day he avoided you, much to your dismay. you couldn't stop thinking about it. it slowed down your performance, making you distracted. the time just dragged on.

it wasn't until he called you in his office after your shift that you felt any kind of relief. he asked you to lock the door behind you, just like how one of those fantasies you daydreamed of started. with a fast-beating heart, you did what he said and turned to face him. and then his mouth was on yours again. it was much more sensual and yet there was an anxious component to it that made your stomach tingle with excitement.

"why don't you sit on my lap?" he suggested once he pulled away from you.

you froze. you've never actually done this sort of thing before. something delicious curls inside of you. gingerly, you sit on the thigh he patted on and he bounces his leg slightly, the fabric of his pants hitting just the right spot. he laughs at the yelp you give.

"just relax, baby. 's just you and me."

in january, 1994, is when kids go missing. everyone is on edge and patrons are frequenting freddy's less and less. on top of that, the animatronics are malfunctioning more and more, so there are even less customers due to the amount of maintenance that needs to be done.

you and william continue your routine: you fuck and he drives you home afterwards. but lately, something's been weird with william. he's been more... erratic? is that the right word? or just elated. he seems so gleeful, but more violent during sex. he's never showed any masochism until now. he even put a knife to your throat as he pounded into you, threatening to "fucking kill you" if you scream. you took it as just one of those things he says during sex, like when he calls you "slut" and "whore" but it's starting to scare you as it becomes a frequent thing.

it gets worse. you're taking the trash out to the alley when you see the security puppet laying limp. you go and investigate only to find charlie emily, the other owner's daughter, dead and badly hurt. like she's been stabbed repeatedly. you scream in shock and run in to find william, but he's long gone. instead you went to your co-worker, who called the police.

you were asked to stay at the restaurant until you after you were questioned and you told them everything you saw. you looked but william was still nowhere in sight. you walked home that night.

catching the killer was never something you were interested in. in fact, you hoped to do the opposite of some of your vigilant co-workers, who openly investigated the restaurant. some of them ended up missing too. the police had been called at freddy's on multiple occasions.

on one particular occasion, the last one before freddy's closed, actually, you went to the backrooms to catch a breather. what you found? william pouring bleach to bloodied clothes, bloody knife laying on a nearby table. you drop your keys in shock, alerting him. Turning on your heel to break for it, he grabbed the knife and your arm.

"tell anyone and i'll fucking gut you right here, right now," he threatened in a low voice.

you jostle your arm, desperate to break free. "please!" you whisper-shout. "i won't tell anyone, please let me go!"

and for some reason, he trusted you.

freddy's closed after that, and you swore to yourself you would take what happened to the grave. maybe you were a coward, but you had no solid evidence it was him behind the murders. it would all just be hearsay. no one would believe you anyways. william had such a high reputation, not just at fredy's, but within the community.)

mike hangs up the phone with a sigh. "so...?" you say, leaning towards his direction in anticipation.

"i took the job," he grumbles. his head is in his hands, running through his hair anxiously.

you throw your hands up in the air in excitement. "yay! we get to keep abby!" mike immediately snaps out of his sulking to bust out laughing. as he shakes his hand, he mentally adds your twisted sense of humor to the endless list of things he loves about you. and your distantly maternal role in abby's life. we get to keep abby.

you snap him out of his thoughts with a question. "who's the lucky employer?"

he laughs again in disbelief. "freddy fazbear's pizza. working in security. they need someone to watch the place and make sure no one breaks in and stuff."

you frown and furrow your brow. freddy's. william. "something wrong?" he muses, noticing your change in demeanor. you shake your head.

"no, nothing. i'm happy for you. sounds.. just peachy." mike shoots you a half-smile.

it's nighttime when it's almost time for mike's shift. your head is in your hands as you sit on the couch. it's one of those times when abby's off in her room, scribbling away with a crayon. you feel sick to your stomach. why did it have to be freddy's? who even gave him this job? why is it still there?

you hear a slew of curses coming from mike's room and decide to investigate. he's struggling with the loop of his belt and you can't help but smile. "need some help?"

he looks at you, face turning red. "you don't have to—"

"oh, come on," you sigh, moving to help him. "it's okay to need help sometimes." mike doesn't say anything, but from the way he's looking at you, he wants to.

"what?" you ask, but mike just shakes his head. you wouldn't understand. you decide to just leave it alone — mike's always been a distant guy.

"you need to be careful," you tell him with a much more serious tone than intended.

"why?" he asks, confused.

you try to relax your face and give him a lighthearted smile. "you should always be careful, mike! you never know what kinds of people you can encounter."

he has no idea.

two days go by. mike comes back home, surprisingly well-rested, until before his third shift when he casually mentions to you that he mainly just sleeps on the job. you freeze at that, worry forming inside of you in the pit of your stomach. "wh-what do you mean you just sleep there?! are you fucking crazy?!"

mike looks bewildered at your outburst. "i told you about this. i'm doing that dream stuff still..."

"okay, but do you have to do it on the job? do you have any idea how dangerous that is, when you're supposed to be looking out for any suspicious behavior." you're poking a finger into his chest, scolding him like he's a child.

"jeez, what's the matter with you?" he sighs in frustration. "if it bothers you that much then why don't you come with me and make sure i stay awake? i'm tired all the fucking time, and you know that!"

you know you shouldn't, for your own safety, but you have to think about mike. besides, if there's two people there, one can call the police. you let your paranoia, and your overwhelming care for mike, get the better of you. "fine. i'll come with you. put on your vest, grab abby, and i'll be in the car."

mike looks at you with sad eyes. you really didn't mean to be so harsh but it doesn't matter; he's more important. the drive over is silent, not that mike is really a talker anyways, but there's a thick tension in the air. your jaw and your fists are clenched anxiously, and you try not to look at him. when he parks the car he sighs and says your name.

the three of you set up camp in mike's office. abby sets up her tent and shortly falls asleep. you pace around the room while mike stares at the cameras, head in his hands with his eyes barely open. you walk over and snap your fingers in front of his face with a huff.

then something goes wrong. mike calls you over. "uh, i think i just saw something move? towards the offices." if it's potential danger, you decide it should be you who goes. not in a heroine sort of way, more of a need for closure.

you make your way slowly towards the offices. the dead silent halls make room for the only sound being your quickened breathing. you can practically hear your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. something rustles and, of course, it comes from wiliam's old office. you pray it's a rat.

as you push the door open, you breath a sigh of relief when the room is empty. that is, when someone slaps a hand over your mouth. "how truly lucky i am that you were the one to find me, lovely."

you struggle instantly but he wraps his other arm around your neck and pushes you further into the office. you land on the ground, hitting your head on the chair. looking up at him in horror, you cling onto the chair for dear life and get a good look at him. he admittedly aged well. salt and pepper hair and beard and all, it looks ridiculously good on him. "don't be afraid. i only want to make amends. i saw you were here and—"

"fuck you!" you spit venomously. "i don't want anything to do with you!"

william looks dumbstruck, then he scowls. the look on his face scares you as it contorts horribly. "what is it? is that boy? you realize i'm the one that gave him this job, right?"

"i don't know what the fuck you're talking about, but—"

suddenly, william lunges towards you and grasps you by your cheeks, holding your face tightly. "stop acting like such a fucking brat. remember when you were such an obedient little girl for me? let's go back to that, yeah?"

before you know it, you're being shoved against the desk facing forward. "i'm gonna teach you some fucking manners." you scramble in his grasp but his strength is unmatched. you know what's coming next and it makes you feel something burning in your stomach that you try to convince yourself desperately is sickness.

he pulls down your pants and you begin to sob. "please!"

"look at you, begging for me already," he laughs. he's undoing his belt and you already feel his dick prodding at your entrance. if this was back in the 90s, before all of this bullshit, he would've had the decency to engage in some foreplay, but there's a sense of urgency that makes it all the more—

god, what the hell is wrong with you. you're so fucked.

he undresses your bottom half, leaving you just in your sweatshirt. "gorgeous," he comments. "just as i remember."

you feel his dick prodding at your entrance, and you squeeze your eyes shut as he pushes in. it still feels as good as it did back then. he fucks you nice and slow, emphasizing each thrust with a slap from his hips onto yours. how does he still fuck this well at his age?

instead of picking up his pace gradually, like he used to, he continues to fuck you slowly. you're moaning uncontrollably now, clawing behind you at his chest, hoping he'll get the message and pick up the pace. he doesn't and just laughs darkly. "he doesn't fuck you as good as i do, huh, baby? you needed my dick to satisfy you all those years ago, and still need it now the way you're gushing on my cock."

you want to tell him mike doesn't fuck you at all, and that you're just friends, and that you only belong to him—

someone calls your name from the doorway. you and william both snap your heads towards the direction, only to find a shocked mike with his mouth agape. "mr. raglan? what the fuck is going on?"

"michael schmidt!" william practically exclaims, excited. he stops fucking you, purposefully burying himself to the hilt inside of you so you groan and squirm at the loss of stimulation. "come! come join us! your girl and i were just getting re-acquainted."

"she's not my..." mike trails off, finding himself moving closer without thinking. he takes in your appearance: bottom naked and bent over the desk with a fucked out expression. god, you're so pretty. you're always so pretty, but this is just...

no, this is wrong, he tries to tell himself. it's almost like william reads his mind when he sing-songs, "join us, or i'll kill the both of you."

like there was a devil and angel on mike's shoulder, the devil was winning. he's always wanted to fuck you and he doesn't necessarily have a death wish, either. "what, uh, what do you want me to do?"

your face falls and your mouth goes dry. william speaks with a grin, "why don't we trade places?"

mike scrambles to undo his belt and you practically drool when he pulls his cock out. fuck, you've wanted mike for awhile now. all that pent up tension between you two is finally spilling over the edge. all those lingering glances and long-lasting touches leading up this

especially like this, with your former fling and the guy you babysit for, makes it — and fuck it, you'll say it — all the more hotter. he replaces william's spot behind you and thrusts in quicker than the latter. he's practically humping you, fucking you desperately like he's running after something. his hands grip onto your hips tightly. "yes," william hisses, pumping himself while sitting dowqn in his chair. when you glance at him, he has the audacity to fucking wink at you. "'attaboy, keep goin.'"

that only encourages mike as he moans your name. "fuck, your pussy feels so good — hah!"

"mmm, mike!" you moan back.

"look at you two," william says breathlessly, "what a lovely fuckin' sight." mike begins to plunge in and out, reaching your cervix with each thrust, and you're close already. he senses that, and you can tell he is too by the way his thrusts gradually become more unbalanced. william's grunts are getting louder.

you're the first one to come, then william, and mike is still desperately pushing out of you. for good measure, he lands an uncharacteristic smack on your ass and then buries himself to the hilt becoming coming inside. the feeling of him filling you up is absolutely delicious. when he pulls out he studies the way that his cum drips out of your pussy. he's enamored with you, by the way.

#fnaf #asks #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf smut #william afton #steve raglan #william afton x reader #william afton smut #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut

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cybunii · 5 months

Text

DOCTOR !!

a/n: I wanted to add smut so bad but writers block is literally killing me...

Pairing: Steve Raglan/William afton x gn!reader

cw: power difference, age gaps, uhh inappropriate doctor? no smut, just suggestive talk, maybe stalker-ish behavior

You took a deep breath and walked into the surprisingly cold building, avoiding eye contact with the people waiting in the lobby.

You check in at the front for your appointment, a quick checkup with Dr. Raglan at 2:30. He wasn’t your normal doctor, but since he was the only one available, you had to make due.

You had been feeling well but decided to come in anyway. Besides, what harm could a checkup do?

You sit in one of the chairs, anxiously bouncing your leg up and down. Places like this always made you nervous, you had no reason for it, but you couldn’t calm the extreme nervousness you felt in hospitals and doctor's offices.

“…?”

You hear a woman call your name and you quickly stand up, making small talk with her as she leads you down the hallway to the room.

She takes your blood pressure and asks you questions about allergies and any new medications, the average standard questions.

“Okay, you’re all set! Dr.Raglan will be in to see you shortly.” The woman cheerfully exclaimed, nodding, before shutting the door behind her.

You look around at all the framed diplomas, degrees, and bunny-themed decorations around the room.

Your eyes are drawn to the one on the desk. You pick it up and observe it in your hands. A small yellow ceramic bunny sitting down, and the back is decorated with tiny orange spots. Some of the paint is smudged off, and its eye is partially missing, but it’s cute nonetheless.

You hear footsteps getting closer to the door and you quickly place it back, hoping it’s in the same position it was in.

A few knocks on the door and he steps in.

You give a small grin to him as he sits down, your eyes roaming his body as he turns the computer on.

He was wearing the typical white coat, paired with sleek black pants, a tight-fitting button-up shirt, and a grape-colored tie complimenting his rather muted outfit.

His intense gaze was focused on the digital screen in front of him, his lean shoulders slightly hunched over. The contours of his arms and toned back were accentuated by the tight-fitting shirt he wore. Even when concentrating, his natural charm was impossible to hide behind those piercing eyes and sharp focus. You can't help but look at him, even if he is completely aware of your gaze.

Steve-

No.

William was fully aware of your staring.

A slight grin appears on his face as he continues to stalk through your information on the computer, keeping a mental note of each small detail for later.

He deliberately set up this appointment, making sure he was the only one to see you today. A check-up was a good enough excuse, knowing he didn't have enough credentials to perform any other exams.

Dr.Raglan clears his throat and your eyes dart up to meet his, embarrassment creeping up to settle on your face.

“Well, today is a simple procedure.” He says, abruptly standing up, walking over to the counter, and grabbing gloves. He casually slides the gloves over his hands, your eyes almost trained on them.

He walks back over and gestures to the table. You nod and carefully lay down on the hard table, the supposed cushion under you failing to provide any comfort. You try to focus on the uncomfortable feeling, not wanting to bring any attention to the clearly attractive doctor about to feel you up.

“Just gonna lift this up, okay?” He says, a more gentle tone added to his deep voice. His hands gradually lift the hem of your shirt up and bunch it near your chest. His fingertips barely graze your skin and you take a sharp breath in, your heartbeat quickening.

His hands press into your abdomen, not enough to hurt but enough so that it's uncomfortable. Your face scrunches a bit before he lets up, testing to see if anywhere is sensitive.

“Did that hurt?” He whispers, quickly pressing down on another spot.

You shake your head, your eyes avoiding his intense gaze. “No…”

His hands trail even lower, pressing a little above your belt. “What about this?” He murmurs, his hungry gaze watching your every reaction.

You bite your lip and shake your head again, your eyes meeting his when he keeps his hands in place.

“You sure?” He asks, pressing his hands into you even harder.

You wince and wiggle a bit, trying to relieve the pain by moving. “Uh- yeah, that hurts a bit..” You say, looking up at him with an uncomfortable expression.

He hums and takes his hands off, throwing the gloves away in the nearby trash can. You take a deep breath in and rub the sore spot, knowing it'll be a bruise by tomorrow.

“Let me do that…” He mumbles, his now bare hands rubbing the sore spot, the heat radiating from them feeling very good.

“..feels g-good..” You stutter, instantly regretting saying anything due to the tone your voice decides to use. He raises his eyebrow and smirks, his look basically mocking you.

He hums again, his hands grazing across your waist now, almost testing you.

Time almost stands still for a minute, the only sounds of soft breathing filling the room. His hands pull away and he sits down at the computer, leaving you lying there.

You frown and pull your shirt back down, finally sitting up and stretching from lying down for that long.

You stare at the back of his head for what feels like ages. The sound of the quick typing almost drives you crazy. He turns around in the chair and stares at you, almost scanning you with his eyes.

“You're a little sensitive, but overall everything seems to be okay. You’re as healthy as you can be!” He says, clasping his hands together.

You grin, nodding your head. “That's great to hear-”

“Though, I might have a suggestion” He says, cutting you off.

You raise your eyebrows, giving him a confused look.

“There was a study released recently, a huge list about many things someone should do everyday to make sure they stay healthy. The study was conducted by many educated scientists and doctors, so don’t have any worries about whether it's fake or not. We've all seen those websites…” He explains, pretty much rambling at this point.

“Anyways, there was one on there that I think would suit your…” He pauses, his gaze sizing you up. “Needs.”

Your face scrunches up, the confusion still all over your features. “I’m sorry- My needs?” You ask, slight embarrassment creeping up on your face at the hidden meaning of those words.

His once innocent grin widens into a wicked smile, quickly standing up and towering over you.

“Don't act so shy…You know what im talking about sweetheart” He murmurs, his rough hand going to rest on your thigh.

His hand gently strokes your thigh, inching its way up. You try to move your leg, but it is difficult, his strong grip keeping you in place.

His face moves closer to yours, slowly, ever so slowly.

Your heart hammers away in your chest, your body heating up at his touch and his breath getting closer and closer to you.

“I'll give you the first dose…” He whispers, his hungry eyes practically glued to your lips. He smirks and leans in, his lips are soft and warm. They meet yours, and he starts to slowly kiss you.

His other hand moves up off your thigh, and it brushes lightly against your skin. You can feel the touch, but it isn't aggressive or forced. It is a hungry yet gentle kiss, filled with passion.

He groans and breaks the kiss, looking at you with an amused expression. You shudder at his warm breath hitting your face as he speaks, your face continuing to flush at the closeness.

“Do you think you would be interested in learning more?” He asks, an expecting look on his face, begging, maybe demanding for you to give in.

You think for a moment, your mind still reeling from the sudden kiss.

You nod your head a few times and he grins, turning around and finding an appointment card. “For when you need a higher dose” He says, handing you a card with an address quickly scribbled on it.

“I'll be expecting a visit very soon…” He leans closer to you, whispering in your ear in a lust filled tone. He smirks again and stands up, opening the door for you to leave.

You lift yourself off the table and quickly leave, glancing behind you to see him still staring at you.

You stare at the card once you get in the car, your hand going up to softly touch your lips. It's like you can still feel his touch.

Maybe you should make another appointment…

word count: 1.5k

#fnaf #suggestive #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #william afton #william afton x reader #steve raglan #steve raglan x you #steve raglan x reader #cybunii #i hate this #ughhhh #the brainrot is real

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lvlymicha · 2 months

Text

☀︎︎You're mine, sunshine☽

part two

(a/n) hello again!! I might had taken to long to post the part two, but hey! at least i'm here. It's a bit short but I'll try to make part three longer, hope you guys like it<3

Warnings: none

tags: grumpy x sunshine, boss!WiliamAfton/Steve Raglan, employee!reader, William Afton/Steve Raglan x reader, reader is in her 20s, William/Steve is in his early 50s, slow burn, female reader (more tags will be added eventually if needed.)

Part One | Part Three

William looked at his wristwatch again, it hits 6:40 AM, he looks at the door

She's really goin to be late on her first day?

He thinks, inpatient with the lateness of his assistant

A knock on the door is heard, "Come in." William says calmly, (Y/N) enters the office with a smile on her face, a baby pink purse on her shoulder, her clothes are formal, black skirt, white blouse and small black bow on it, being as formal she can she's not wearing sneakers either, on her foot there's a pair of black mary janes and white socks

"Good morning Mr. Raglan! how are you doing?"

The girl asks happily while going to a table at his far right, the table is 2 meters from his

"You were almost late, be careful next time."

He says, not even caring to answer her question, he liked the fact of her being polite but he wasn't in the mood for that right now

"Well, I was almost late" (Y/N) replies emphasizing the almost "I still have ten minutes before our shift starts. But don't worry, I'll be earlier tomorrow."

She says sitting on her chair and starting to organize her table

"So...how many years are you working in here?"

"What's with the sudden question?"

Afton looks at the girl, his eyebrow arched

"Just trying to break the ice! You know, since we're coworkers we should have a good relationship."

She smiles at him, not noticing the annoyance in his eyes

"Listen here Miss (Y/L/N), first I'm not your coworker, I'm your boss, second, you're not here to have good relationships, you're here to assist me, I don't want nothing more than that, did I make myself clear?"

William says coldly to the poor girl, maybe he was being to rough? he didn't care, the day haven't even started yet and she was already getting on his nerves

"Oh, alright sir! I got it, no talk just work."

She gives him a thumb up and goes back to organize her table

The man roll his eyes and sighs in annoyance, resting his chin on his hand, he's already regretting his new hire

#william afton x reader #steve raglan x reader #william afton x you #william afton #steve raglan #grumpy x sunshine #slow burn #female reader

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yellowbunnydreams · 6 months

Text

Mechanised Devotion (Part 2) ~Steve Raglan/William Afton x Female Reader~

~Holy cow, thank you so much to the people who liked part 1 despite the fact it was basically just set up! I promise we'll get to the more fun bits from here onwards. I'm just excited to be writing again, and honestly just trying to have fun with this little writing project~

Part 1

CW: Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), afab reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - 40's), mention of crimes and violence, blood, mentions of child death (it's FNAF, what did you expect?), past trauma; abusive relationships.

It had been less than three days when Steve Raglan picked up his office phone as it rang, breaking him out of a stupor he had fallen into as he had pulled out his laptop and began watching the security feeds from his little 'hobby'. He'd watched the black and white cameras as they flickered with a little aged grain as the inside of what was once a colourful, successful establishment was now being ransacked by vagrants and bored teenagers. Today it happened to be vagrants, and he wished that he had remembered to wire back the audio into them as he witnessed a particularly large man run apparently screaming from an elongating, slow shadow behind him.

He felt a little regret that he wouldn't be able to watch his creations deal with the issue as the shrill tone of the phone of his desk continued. This was the downside to being Steve Raglan, he couldn't enjoy what he most wanted to when he wanted to.

It was never as satisfying to watch back the tapes.

"Steve Raglan's office." He stated cooly, running his thick fingers through his hair and hiding an annoyed huff as he kept glancing back at the screen. Raising an eyebrow as he watched the man on the screen pick up a chair and trying to jab it towards the heavy shadow coming into view on the edge of the camera. Soon joined by a second and a third.

"Hi it's um... it's me." You stated, similarly running your fingers through your hair although you were unaware of it. Hearing Steve Raglan's voice made you somewhat nervous for some reason, gripping the handset of the landline you were calling from and twirling the cord around a finger as they moved from your hair.

Raglan sat back in his chair, half-keeping an eye on the screen but now intrigued as to your call. If it had been anybody else calling on his free-office day, he would have put the phone down but the nerves in your voice pulled at some part of him and coerced him into listening. A sly, calculating smile crossing his lips as he drawled out your name.

"It's so nice to hear from you, what do I owe the pleasure of this call to?" He asked, watching the screen and grinning as the camera was predominantly dominated with the hulking figures of his creations reaching for the intruder. Watching as their maws opened up to reveal a carefully orchestrated mess of gears, pistons and wires and enough hydraulic pressure to snap bones.

You could hear the sweetness in his voice as he talked. Taking a deep shaking breath, your grip tightened on the handset before you glanced at the rent notice pinned on the board and saw your name as the one circled in red and underlined. The last one to pay rent that month. Again.

"I was um, wondering if you still wanted to talk to me about my...history." You ventured cautiously, subconsciously reaching up and biting at your nails and tasting the bitter polish as you felt the nerves and caution creep into your voice.

Steve leant forwards and pressed the phone harder against his ear, as if that would somehow mean you wouldn't hear the smile in voice as he watched the carpeted floor of the old pizzeria seep into a darker colour despite the monochrome settings, and he was, surprisingly to himself, excited that you wanted to talk to him.

"Oh yes, you decided to change your mind? I knew you would be good and see it from my perspective." He felt his breathing hitch as he watched the somewhat censored gore on the screen and his heart began to beat a little quicker as his depraved mind began to wonder what little secrets he would be able to tear from your pretty little head.

You were somewhat glad that he couldn't see you as your cheeks filled and turned crimson in embarrassment. Hearing his words had made some part of your mind light up like an amusement park. 'I knew you would be good', and you weren't sure, but you swore you almost heard his breathing flutter excitedly as he said it. Shaking your head, you dismissed the notion that the man you had met a few days prior would be that weird.

"Yeah so um... It all really began back whe-"

"Oh no, sweetie, don't you think it would be far more professional to say something like this to my face?" Raglan asked, unable to contain a small sneer as he stressed 'professional' but let the warmth of his voice coat the nickname he threw in casually. He had found younger women were so much easier to manipulate as he pleased as long as he threw just enough scraps of compliments and feigned interest to light up their little hormone ridden brains. It was almost as easy as convincing kids to follow him back in his hay-day.

"Oh um, sure Mr. Raglan." You stammered slightly, caught off guard by the nickname, running your hand through your hair again and biting your lip as you wondered where the sudden informality had come from. Although you supposed this was only your second time speaking to him.

Shutting the laptop down and placing it into a desk drawer and locking it up, Steve loosened his tie and leaned back into his office chair. He wondered whether he should get her to come to the office again, but as he looked around the room idly, he noticed a menu flung onto the side and picked it up, twirling it in his fingers as he glanced over it and decided that an informal setting might make you squirm more. He wanted to see you on edge.

"How about I meet you at a place called Sparky's? It has good food I've heard."

Food sounded like a wonderful idea, if a bit strange to you that he mentioned meeting you somewhere so informal when surely what you were about to divulge was confidential.

'I'm not the expert though. This is literally his job.'

"Umm... Sure, but sir I-"

"No ifs, no buts okay?" He raised his finger and waggled it as if you would see, but the predatory grin remained on his face, slightly faltering as the adrenaline from watching the feeds faded out all too quickly for his liking. "See you in about...an hour." He said, giving no option to argue as he put down the phone. Standing up and stretching, letting his back crack satisfactorily and tucking in his shirt again, adjusting his tie again as he picked up your file. Deciding to read through it once more before meeting with you again.

Finding Sparky's wasn't that hard, but walking there in worn down sneakers that really weren't suited to walking that much, jeans and a baggy t-shirt even in the thick Utah heat had seemed like a great idea when you left the house. However as you reached the aged looking diner, it was regrettable one.

One thing you had realised as you had settled down in the middle of nowhere also known as Hurricane, everything looked like it had been built in the eighties and then left to rot away, never being updated apart from the barest health and safety codes that allowed things to continue functioning.

Stepping inside, a small bell chimed and you were glad to find the cozy space air-conditioned. A mousey haired and boyish faced waiter smiling at you from behind the counter before returning to cleaning momentarily, allowing you the chance to look around and find Raglan. You noticed him in a booth in the corner, legs stretched out to one side and head leaned partly against the cool glass, a mug infront of him that his massive hands fiddled with idly. It was comical in a way, the way the massive man sprawled to fill out the space with a slight scowl on his sharp features.

Cautiously, you approached, and Raglan turned his head automatically as he noticed movement in the glass where his head rested. His features cool and unreadable before he noticed who it was approaching, breaking out into that cute lopsided smile that made you light up slightly seeing it.

'Since when did you light up seeing somebody smile?' you asked yourself. Offering a nervous smile back before taking a seat opposite in the booth. Smelling the freshly brewed coffee he had in front of him and feeling the change in your pocket jingling as a heavy reminder that you too would probably only be having coffee. Watching Steve tuck himself back into the booth and lean his forearms on the table, leaning forwards slightly.

"Ah, glad you found it! Now, you look absolutely parched lovely, let's get you a drink." He said, voice warm and comforting again, seemingly concerned with your state as he gestured for the boyish waiter to come over. Reading his name-tag as 'Ness' as he got closer.

"Hey folks, what can I get you? Another coffee sir?" He asked, his voice bubbly as he directed his question towards Steve first, who looked in his cup. Notably almost comically small in his calloused palm, before he shrugged and smiled charmingly at the waiter.

"Sure, two waters as well and whatever this young lady would like, it's my treat."

"Mr. Raglan I really couldn't -"

"No no," he said, tapping the table idly with his right hand, as if keeping it occupied as he spoke. Tilting his head to one side and widening his smile as he said your name gently, reassuringly. "no ifs and no buts, remember?"

Swallowing softly, you stammered through your order, making sure to pick the smallest thing on the menu still. You weren't going to be stupid or cheeky, remaining frugal in a way that made Steve raise an eyebrow and smirk to himself. He was beginning to form an image of you in his head, and a shiver ran through his body as he realised you were ticking quite a few boxes for himself mentally.

Ness disappeared with a smile and a nod, leaving you and Raglan alone and in somewhat awkward silence as the buzz of the air conditioning tried somewhat unsuccessfully to fill it. Twirling your thumbs around each other, you looked at your hands and thought for a moment about which nail to chew before taking a deep breath and matching Steve's pose. Forearms on the table and slightly leaned forwards.

"I guess...my personal issues at work started with my ex." You admit, keeping your eyes on your own hands and how your thumbs move, trying not to disturb the pattern that you had fallen into with the soothing motion. "He was...A real peach, you know? Made me feel pretty and stupid and like I was dating God's gift to women." You sigh, biting at your lip and chewing at a dry piece of skin, avoiding Steve's eyes.

The man opposite you listened intently, and a malicious glitter formed in his silvery eyes as he stared intently at you. Head bowed, speaking softly and brokenly. Bitter. Although something gnawed at his insides as you spoke about your ex-boyfriend. How he had made you fall so vastly in love with him, that you didn't care when the beatings initially started, because you deserved it in your eyes. You would apologise even as you laid bloody and bruised on the kitchen floor because you were stupid enough to make him angry.

Raglan scowled as he realised that the feeling eating at him was jealousy. Jealousy at a man he had never met nor heard the name of before that day because he was the one that had gotten to break you first. Not him. Not who he really was anyway.

Food arrived and you finished talking, summing up your life-story about how you had gotten fired from multiple jobs because your psycho ex would stand outside or inside your place of work and simply stare at you for hours after you left. Would follow you to a car, or bus or train even, just because you dared to leave him.

Steve offered his large hand out, switching from a scowl to a concerned frown as you looked up, tears pricking at your big doey eyes. He felt angry in a way. He wanted to be the reason you cried. Not some stupid, half-assed attempt at a threat.

Raglan wanted to see you cry with real fear.

Gently, he placed his large hand on your forearm and stroked it slowly, a comforting motion that made you look up at him and into his eyes as he spoke with what sounded like sincere grief on your behalf.

"I'm so sorry sweetie, somebody like you shouldn't have to go through that kind of fear. I understand now, I think I have something in mind for you, a job that would mean you're out of sight if he should come looking for you." He offered, letting his hand rest on your elbow for a moment before resuming the comforting motion again.

Internally, he was grinning. He had been sincere when he said you shouldn't have had to experience that type of fear, no, because he wanted you to experience real fear. The type that meant he could watch your panic and pain upclose and personally.

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