#springtrap x reader

[yellowbunnydreams]

And There You Were [William Afton x F! Reader] [part 1]

~This is dedicated to the lovely @lucigooseart who is a brilliant artist. I hope you had a very happy birthday, friend, and that you enjoy the highs and lows of this birthday fic. There's so much I want to put in so this will be in a few parts!~

CW: MINORS DNI 18+.[Reader description! - Mentions of reader having curly hair] Older man/younger woman (Reader 20's, William late 30's). Non-cannon family structure, grumpy x sunshine, boss x employee, wholesome fluff, mild angst, Henry being a cringy dad (as always).

Based on the Young Afton drawings by Lucigooseart.

You had been glad to get the job at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza when it had first opened, you remembered when Fredbear's Family Diner had opened in your small town, how there had been some push back on a children's restaurant that focused on animatronic entertainment. There was something charming about the yellow, velveteen furred animatronics however, and it had quickly developed into needing a secondary establishment and including more characters to keep the kids entertained. There were even new uniforms made out, since the staff expanded beyond the two original owners of Fredbear's Family Diner.

You wore your confetti blouse and red vest with pride, and a little yellow bunny clip to tie up your curls that you had made in honour of your favourite animatronic from the establishments, you were proud that you had been there since the very beginning and wore your uniform with a sense of joy that seemed to permeate through the staff generally. Freddy's was a magical place after all, where fantasy and fun came to life!

But as autumn set in, the fast pace of the summer seemed like a hazy memory that you had all but forgotten and woken from. Taking a deep breath as you pushed open the back fire-exit and breathed in the crisp air, eyes closed and drinking in the coolness against your flushed skin as you heard the door click shut behind you. Even on the slower days, Freddy's could be a little manic, and you were feeling a little burnt out of constantly being told the next job that needed doing or spill that needed cleaning without so much as a whisper of praise for all the times that you stayed late or started early , without clocking in you hastened to add mentally.

"You're looking rather flushed there, you all good?"

The voice made you jump as your eyes snapped open, struggling to take in the cool light for a second before drifting over to where the voice had come from. A guy that didn't look that much older than yourself, chestnut brown hair swept back as he peered at you through dark brown rimmed aviator glasses. A lit cigarette hung from his lips, a full brush moustache making him seem a little older as you briefly glanced over him. Black, bulky trench coat, a purpleish-grey sweater over what appeared to be a white turtleneck and khaki pants. Shoes and belt both a dark brown, you had to admit, the tall stranger had impeccable dress sense.

"Yeah, it's just warm inside is all. We seem to keep the heating on super high. Could just be the pizza ovens though." Laughing softly as the man's eyes crinkled slightly as he gave you a smile in return.

"Damn AC must be out again." He tutted, taking out the cigarette from between his lips and flicking the ash away as the smoke curled into the autumnal sky. "I'll get on that after I've finished my break."

"You work here?"

"You've not seen me working here?"

"Admittedly not, and you're not exactly dressed like an employee." The man rolled his eyes and scoffed, taking another drag before leaning back against the brick wall of the building, running his free hand through his hair.

"Henry wanted me to wear a uniform," He sighed, nose twitching as he ran his hand over his lower face. "I told him to fuck off. Everybody knew who we were, guess I just lost that bet."

Your brow furrowed slightly, before raising into a curious expression and looking up at him. Arms crossing across your chest and head tipped slightly to one side.

"How do you know Mr. Emily?" The stranger looked at you with his own furrowed expression, seemingly lost in his thought for a moment before sighing and tossing his mostly burnt out cigarette, stepping on it and crushing it beneath the toe of his shoe as his large hands shoved themselves into the pockets of his khakis.

"How do you think I know one of the owners of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria by first name basis? Do the curls take up space inside that pretty head of yours too?" You blushed at the backhanded compliment, arms tightening against your chest as you scowled slightly at him and one hand automatically moved to your head, touching your hair protectively like it had personally been insulted. As he pushed off of the wall, the man pulled out one of his large hands and offered it to you. Encouraging you to shake it and feel the rough callouses against your softer hand. "Afton, William. Not William Senior, not William Junior, Just William."

Your grip on his hand involuntarily tightened as he introduced himself, your breath hitching in your throat and eyes widening as you looked up at him. William Afton. The man was somewhat of a cryptid amongst the staff, if something was to go wrong, it was joked that Afton was to blame for it. Delivery didn't arrive on time? Afton clearly had it hidden in some back room. Couldn't find your car keys? Afton had taken your car and moved it two spaces over. It was all in good fun, but even when it was only Fredbear's Family Diner, he wasn't often seen.

"I feel like there's a story behind that introduction." 'At least you didn't say something really weird', you thought to yourself as he pulled back his hand and huffed a small laugh. Shaking his head slightly as the warmth of his hand returned to his pockets.

"Small town, people assume you're your father's son kinda thing. Nobody talks about the fact that I might not be from here, and that even if my father was named William, he's not exactly here to differentiate from." Rolling his eyes and you couldn't help but laugh at the explanation. Something about it amused you, and you watched Afton's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, giving him an almost comical expression. "Something funny, curly-locks?"

"Sorry it just caught me a little off guard. Well, 'Just' William, it was nice to meet you out here, slumming it with the rest of us on break." A broad smile on your face was mirrored by a small quirk of his lips and his eyes crinkling again, shrugging his shoulders nochelantly.

"Ah, I'm certainly not slumming it. Slumming it is using the employee break-room."

"Ouch, and might I remind you that you helped to build that break-room?"

"That's all Henry, I like machines over people."

"Great! Maybe you can convince the vending machine not to eat our quarters for once!" William chuckled at the thought and shrugged again. Reaching past you and for the door, opening it up and half-standing between the warm interior and cold outside of the building. Feeling the change in temperature and frowning as he thought about the fact that there would be a lot of sudden, unexpected strain on his precious animatronics due to the changing temperature.

"We'll see. Out of sight, out of mind, little rabbit."

"Rabbit?" You repeated, curious as he gestured to your hair and gave you a bit of a lopsided smile.

"Your Spring-Bonnie clip. Even though it's kinda broken."

"Oh shit, did the ear fall off again?" Hand reaching up and feeling for it through your curls and groaning as you realised the little clay ear had snapped off again, giving it a very lopsided appearance. You weren't sure where your art supplies were back at your home, and you weren't even sure that at that point, it was worth repairing due to the slight discolouration of the original clay thanks to the constant wear and use you put it through.

"I think it's cute. You should keep it like that. Sometimes, things are just meant to be."

He smiled as he closed the door behind him, leaving you outside on your break. Wondering how you had never met him before, and why you were getting a small fluttering tightness in your chest when you thought about his warm smile.

It was a few days before you saw William again, not in a large overcoat this time, but rather a purple button up and brown slacks. He had oil over his forearms and fingers as he tried to adjust his watch on his wrist, the scowl on his face suggesting that perhaps it wasn't going so well. You'd just clocked off, but you figured it wouldn't be such a bad thing to talk to the co-owner again. "Need a hand with that, 'Just-William'?" You asked him, making him look up and smile after a moment as he noticed who it was. His eyes crinkling slightly with his smile as he chuckled and shook his head, turning his attention back to the strap of his watch. "Good to see you too, curly-locks. I'm just trying to get this thing back on after working on the animatronics. Bonnie fritzed out again, which honestly wouldn't be noticeable if he didn't keep playing the same chord for three hours straight." Sighing as he gave up on trying to reattach his watch, running an oily hand through his hair and leaving little black streaks through it. "Really? I hadn't noticed! It's not like I've spent eight hours listening to the same chord over and over again or anything." William paused and chuckled at your sarcasm, shaking his head and holding the watch limply by the strap as he shrugged, putting his hands on his hips and shifting the weight to one leg. "Okay, okay I get it."

"Do you? 'Cause I can try and hide a tape-recorder in your office with the most annoying music I could possibly find on repeat until the batteries run out." "Only if you want to find out what it's like to have all your door hinges slightly undone so they squeak horribly." "Mr. Afton! Going through employee files like that to find out where I live, positively scandalous." Bursting into laughter as he smiled and started chuckling too, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, his cheeks a little flushed. "Yeah, I took that a bit far didn't I?" Looking a little flustered with himself as you shook your head, still bursting into the occasional giggles as your fingers quickly took hold of the watch from his hand, seeing him open his mouth in protest before you took ahold of his wrist and got him to hold it out. Quickly strapping it back onto his wrist, trying to find the most worn out notch in the strap to figure which was the best tightness for him. "There, all done. And maybe, but you have been undergoing torture listening to Bonnie all day." William smiled as he rubbed his wrist where you'd attached the watch, deftly adjusting it to sit right against his skin. Glancing over you and noticing you had the same Spring-Bonnie clip in your hair as always, although it was slightly crooked, something in him wanted to reach out and adjust it to sit straight, although he chalked that up to personal pride in his own personal animatronic. "Thanks, rabbit. I would shake your hand but uh...Guessing you don't fancy scrubbing shit out of them for a few hours?" Helplessly shrugging his hands and looking at the black oil and hydraulic fluid that coated his rough skin. Watching as your nose scrunched up and you held your hands up in surrender. "No thank you, I already have to wash my hair when I get back. Pretty sure some kid spilt soda in it when I was bent down to pick something up." "Does it take you long to make it curly?" He asked, curious as he eyed your hair, feeling the gears of his mind turning over an idea, wondering if he could possibly pull off a harmless little gift for you.

You were the first employee to really talk to him since Fredbear's Family Diner had opened a few years before. Of course, he had interviewed people to work in maintenance for him, but it was always very stiff and formal. Henry had told him countless times that he was too picky about the people he wanted to hire, but William always called it due caution. The animatronics were their whole livelihood, if something were to happen to them, it would all come down on their heads. Literally and figuratively. But something about how you talked and joked with him made him feel at ease, enjoying how you joked with him and didn't treat him differently just because he was one of the owners. He had a feeling he was growing to like you. "It's my natural hair texture?" A little confused by the question as William blinked and raised his eyebrows in surprise, running his fingers over his moustache and spreading more oil everywhere, making you internally cringe at the fact he was really going to have to work at getting it out again. "Really? Huh. It looks pretty, rabbit." He complimented you, giving you another crinkle eyed smile before walking off through the dining hall and towards the back, leaving you blushing, cheeks flushed as you wondered what on earth just happened. And why you couldn't wait to see him again.

[justladders]

Permission to...

Poke... It...

(He's so fluffy)

[tylerxrbtwhp]

Game!William Afton/Springtrap Fic Suggestions

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[magicalbunbun]

William's and y/n's

[ghostgirl101]

writing for william afton?? Yeah sure I'll get craaaazy ヘ⁠(⁠￣⁠ω⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠) you can write headcanons of anything, really, I just want to hold this man and be extremely and overly affectionate with him (��灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠) (and and jealousy trope is so aaaaaa you can write something with that, right??? :33)

William Afton/Steve Raglan Being Obsessed With You Would Include...

A/N: Yeap, let's start with obsessive relationship stuff, and then I'll work on a request for jealous headcanons. Hope this is in character, I tried to make it as accurate as I could with what I could work with from the movie. Requests for the FNAF movie are still open if you want me to work on a scenario; just make sure its no smut and platonic or childhood sweethearts for any of the animatronics/missing children 🙃

🐰• Well, good luck getting out of whatever craziness you've somehow gotten yourself into. That's the first thing I'm gonna say ._.

🐰• You probably meet William as "Steve," the careers counsellor who asks a little too many personal questions for it to be strictly business-related, but then, he's got to know who you are to find a job that fits in with your life and personality. He seems normal enough, though there is a slight intensity in the way his eyes linger on you for a beat too long, and his questions become more specific and a bit non-contextual.

🐰• By the end of the interview, he offers you the place of a nightguard at Freddy's, giving you his card with a casual half-smile and going out of his way to show you the ropes. Then you start the job, as oddly unsettling and dark the environment seems, and you think that it's the last time you'll hear from him.

🐰• It's not 😏

🐰• Steve knows a lot about you from your files that he went through before, and from what you told him, and he's got a good memory. He copied all the information down, storing it safely at home, going through pictures and any sources he can find about you in some unplaced interest. William's very calm and calculated, and there's no way he'd be found out unless he let it happen or wanted you to find out for yourself.

🐰• So until he's ready to reveal his dark side completely, which will slip out in little actions and hints when you spend time with him, he's simply Steve Raglan, the relatively normal careers counsellor who keeps checking in on you to see how you're getting on with the job, often going out for a coffee to give you "advice" in his breaks. Anything to pry out more information from you, for him to understand what exactly it is about you that intrigues him.

🐰• Is it because you're unusually pretty? Clever? Quirky? To William, you're just a bit different, maybe a bit childish, or mature and deep, dark-humoured? Whatever it is, it caught his attention, which is a good thing, if you want it... and if it's not, well, you're stuck with it anyway.

🐰• You'll notice quite early on that he's a bit odd himself, maybe a bit invasive, possessive, especially for someone you haven't known for that long. If someone looks over at you for a second too long while you're having coffee with Steve, having a conversation that's veered off of references and employee skills to some personal aspect or interest in your life that he's cracked open. You'll see a shot of something dark pass through his blueish gaze before it passes almost as soon as it comes, and you'll know nothing more about it except never seeing that person again. Just another missing person to add to a list.

🐰• Same with if you happen to be seeing anyone; he's got his own ways to scare people off, and if that doesn't work, he'll be forced to do something a little messier. Again, you won't know a thing about it, and there'll be no proof, no body, no big questions. Suddenly your partner has run off on a job out of the country or broken up with you via text... and Steve will be around to "see how you're doing" and to pick up the pieces when you end up spilling more about what's been going on in your life and exposing more vulnerability. It gives William a rush, in a way, to be needed and ran to and relied on when something goes bad, especially if it's you looking up at him with big pleading eyes. He can only smile and squeeze your hand, not letting go for a long moment as you get yet another drink and finally end up getting somewhere closer to a proper relationship.

🐰• Friends start getting a little distant, past lovers end up disappearing and little conveniences in life become more frequent. Wonder why that is?

🐰• Afton has a great memory, and if you tell him you like something in particular, your favourite show or book, he finds the exact thing by chance in the shop and had to get it for you, just to see your eyes light up and smile thankfully. Or he recorded a new episode of your series for you to watch if you come over on one of the nights you're not working, or he's just finished reading that book, come round to his so you can talk about it some more? He always finds a way to get what he wants, and when it's a person, victim or not, the rule still applies.

🐰• You may not be a victim of violence or murder, but he's got an obsession, an unhealthy desire to watch everything you do, everyone you talk to and in your life. He doesn't name a specific reason for it, doesn't think he needs to, doesn't see the point in it. If you ever catch on to that kind of behaviour, he'll just give you a warm smirk and shrug. "Well, because it's you," is his casual response, though you could swear there's something more behind his eyes. "And I care about you, you know?"

🐰• This is still William Afton though, and for all he can be surprisingly romantic and thoughtful when he thinks to be to see your reaction, he's a sadistic murderer and kidnapper at the end of the day... and it does start to show through. He can be manipulative as we see in the movie, and a bit arrogant, though I don't think he'd outrightly manipulate you. It's more your surroundings and the people you're with. Maybe he'll dig up some dirt on one of your close friends and put it somewhere where you'll find it and cut off the friendship yourself, exactly how he wanted it. And on the occasions when he gets his hands dirty with those types of people, he will get his hands dirty, and enjoys every minute of it. He taunts and mocks them until their dying breath, hating the thought of someone else holding your attention for longer than he can, which only causes more blood to be washed out of clothes and off his skin before you notice.

🐰• I have the idea of William watching you sleep deep in for some reason, since he's affectionate in his own ways, not majorly into PDA or clingy, since he prefers you being the one to run to him. But in the moments when you're not aware that he's around, like when you're sleeping. He'll trace calloused but featherlight fingers across your face, down from your forehead to your cheek and your neck. There's a beat of tensity where you might think he's tempted to do something extreme, something violent, but it passes time and time again. I think the only time William would be tempted to be harsher and forceful is if and when you ever found out about what it is exactly he does, and try betraying him. He wouldn't kill you, nothing like that, but he'd have to lock you away someplace safer...

🐰• But Afton will cross that bridge when he comes to it. For now, it's just an attentive and dependent relationship that William will keep going for as long as he can, accepting any gesture of affection or admiration or any positive attention in general with open arms and a pleased smirk on his face. Life will be pretty easy for you, everything seeming to go your way, and his, he'll make sure of it. And when you finally uncover the truth behind Steve and meet the real William Afton, he'll expect things to stay exactly the same: bloodied hands, spring locks snapping, glowing grey animatronic eyes or not.

[ravenmccookies]

SLUDGE SATURDAY!!!

(for real this time!!)

I've got magma doodles along with an animation and drawing for the occasion

First we have a drawing that @justladders made that I tried to animate

And now here's the magma doodles

And finally we have some art of nightmare errortrap ^^

:]

[scrypticmetal]

Freakball springtrap

[slut4megantheestallion]

Bro today I want to read a William afton fanfic not the one from the movie I love movie William afton and the movie but I'm talking about the one in the book or the British one I'm tired of seeing William fanfics tumblr but the movie one, like where's my child murdering British man who's mentally unstable, and got springlocked in a bunny suit.. I want him.

[lxstfathier]

i really can’t stop thinking about springtrap being completely in love with an onlyfans girl :(

Imagine you, accepting the shitty job as the new security guard at fazbear’s fright, because the attraction is near your house, you get a few extra dollars and also it allows you to basically do nothing all night and just focus on filming new content.

The first nights were a bit difficult, but soon you got used to it, you just had to fix the ventilation and keep an eye on the cameras for any unusual stuff, so easy!!

Once you make sure that everything is in order, the real fun begins. Putting your phone on the desk, with the camera on, you start doing your usual work for your little side gig. Just enjoying yourself as you play with your tits, spread your legs to show your pretty holes and use the toys that you brought from home.

That’s until, one day, you see springtrap right on the doorframe of your office, scaring the shit out of you. Hell, he is scary, and now you understand why all the previous guards quit and the staff warned you about him.

But soon you get used to him too, he does nothing to you after all, he just watches every night, enjoying the sight of your naked body and the cute sounds that you make, wishing that it was him the one who could ruin your little pussy instead of those plastic dildos :(

And you’re way too oblivious to his dark intentions, only thinking that he’s there because maybe you triggered some sound-following sensors with your moans…

[balloonboyismyson]

for shipping requests how about some springtrap x yn ^^

He is so revolting <<<333

[superstar-nan]

Execute Command

Night 2

Summary: You fix Springtrap's voicebox.

Words: 5,691

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

First ♡ Next

───── (\ /) ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

Dumbass.

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

I would strangle the laugh from your throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

> execute([H+S])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

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

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

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

Oh. You were a liar, carrot.

“...Nothing?”

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

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

“...Alright,” The voice was hesitant.

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

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

If only I could kill myself a second time. 

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

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

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

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

How selfish, carrot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, you gently probed past my outer casing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

> Execute([MOVE])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I didn’t ease my stare.

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

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

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

I might.

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

Not the code, carrot. The corpse.

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

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

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

> execute command [HOLD_HANDS]

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

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

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

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

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

I think you did. Perfectly.

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

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

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

I grabbed your ankle and dragged you back.

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

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

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

> No.

> Execute([SQUEEZE])

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

“Bonnie-!”

> Execute([RELEASE])

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

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

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

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

Muffled beyond the bathroom door, the shower started. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My head twitched to the side.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now?” You said, shocked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I didn’t move.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

> No.

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

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

> No.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Patience was easier when I could watch you.

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

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

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

You flinched, “I-I am!”

“T̶o̵n̸i̶g̵h̶t̸.̶”

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

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

“I’m telling you, it’s not-”

“T̶o̵n̸i̶g̵h̶t̸.̶”

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

. . .

Someone forgot to be afraid.

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

Too late.

“I mean, I could try-?”

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

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

> [PLAY MODE] = active

> enter [GAME]: . . .

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

> Execute([H+S])

“H̷i̵d̵e̴ ̶a̶n̵d̶ ̷s̵e̵e̸k̷.”

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

> executing command = [H+S]

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

“T̵e̷n̷.̸” 

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

“N̵i̸n̸e̸.”

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

“E̶i̶g̵h̶t̵.̸”

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

“S̵e̵v̵e̸n̷.̷”

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

“S̴i̵x̵.̷”

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

"F̶i̸v̴e̸.̴"

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

"F̴o̷u̵r̸.̸"

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

"T̷h̵r̶e̶e̸.̶"

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

"T̴w̷o̸.̶"

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

"O̸n̷e̸.̷"

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

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

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

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

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

I took one loud step up.

CRACK!

...

I snapped the first step.

I carefully stepped on the second step.

CRACK!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

> [PLAY MODE] = Active

> enter [GAME]: . . .

> Execute[FETCH]

[justladders]

You’re bundled up in the only blanket you own, but it does nothing for the biting winter cold.

But, mid-shiver, you hear soft, hearty footsteps approaching, and you smile. Without needing to look, you already give thanks before Springtrap lays beside you and wraps you both together in layers of thick sheets.

You never felt so warm cuddling against the big, tender rabbit. 💕

[icyfell]

Happy FNAF Eve, all <333

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

[magicalbunbun]

Into the pit Y/n the tired man.

[fandomwritingbit]

💀Hallowe'en Special💀

After Hours,

Springtrap x fem reader

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

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

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

Credit to image creator.

It was everything you expected and more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Breathing. Raspy, pained, human, fucking breathing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stay tuned for my third fic!

[ravenmccookies]

A funni I made earlier today

Og under cut: