#steve raglan non con

[steve-faglan]

Cat // Mouse

Reader x Steve Raglan (William Afton)

TW: NON CON!! DUB CON!! DRUGGING!! HE'S MEAN!!!!!!!!!

SUMMARY: You get a job working for an old man you want to fuck. Are you misreading things? Where did that vibrator come from?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Is this considered a slow burn? It felt slow to write. It's supposed to be like will they? Won't they? But it's... Well yeah. Look at this gif??????? My PUSSSY????????

WORD COUNT: so many.

Daddy issues. At least, that's what they call it. That's what your ex screamed at you about before he left you in a state thousands of miles from the one you were raised in. He said it was because you made him feel immature; less than. But maybe he was. All he ever wanted to do was drink and play video games, you craved more.

After he left, you realized you'd have to get a better paying job to cover the portion of rent your ex was paying. You take a day to really let it settle in. You cry and drink an entire bottle of wine while watching Dirty Dancing, and then you schedule a meeting with a local career counselor.

You sigh as you hang up the phone. It's embarrassing to need a temp agency's help finding employment, but you're new to this area. You don't know anyone and you're barely sure where to start.

Your alarm blares throughout your room, startling you awake. You barely remember falling asleep at all, and somehow, it feels like you couldn't have possibly slept enough. You're sluggish and groggy, but you still find the energy to get ready for your interview. You're hoping a little extra effort will get you further in a small town like this, so you spend a little more time on your makeup before heading out of the house.

The drive across town to the agency is quick and easy. You pull into the parking lot and emerge from your car, shielding your eyes from the sun to read the rickety sign that's hanging on for dear life outside the building. You huff, unsure if this was the best place to go looking for higher-paying work. When you step inside the door, a petite old lady greets you with a smile. She points to an office down the hall and tells you to knock.

*Knock, knock, knock.*

You push the unlatched door open slightly and a warm voice invites you in.

"Come in, have a seat." The man instructs. You scan over his office. It's dated, and decorated with styles reminiscent of corporate America in the 80's. You read the name tag on his desk, Steve Raglan. You take a seat in one of the muted yellow chairs opposite Steve and await his introduction.

"Steve," he extends an arm over the desk and you shake his hand, telling him your name.

"Thanks for having me, Mr. Raglan. I'm new to town, well, new to the entire coast, really."

"Wow, a little far from home, aren't we?" Steve chuckles kindly, smiling with a tightly closed mouth, spreading his mustache across his lip.

"You have no idea," you laugh exhaustedly and Steve tilts his head as if he's pondering something, but he doesn't mention it. "Anyways, here's my resume. It's not much, but uh..." You hand him a folder with your work history document professionally stored inside. Steve happily takes the folder and begins to read through your papers.

Your resume is impressive. You're well educated with a strong work streak. Your work ethic stands out to him. He's reading through your accomplishments aloud, commending each one. You're unsure why, but his praise fills you with a very specific need. You crave more and something in you tells you that you'd do almost anything to get it.

"A course in robotic engineering?" Steve's voice sounds surprised. He looks up at you with raised eyebrows. A grin spreads across his bearded face. "Huh."

"Yeah, I actually took a few courses. I never did anything with it though."

"Do you remember a lot from those classes?" He sets the closed folder to the side and casually places other papers on top of it, distracting you enough to keep you from asking for it back.

"Oh, sure. Mostly coding, I guess." You shrug.

"Coding." He repeats to himself, nodding knowingly. He can think of a million places in this town that could use a smart, pretty little thing like you. A strained silence grows for just a moment before he speaks again. "Well, Y/N. I think I have an offer for you, but it's not much of a pay raise like you'd hoped."

"What is it?" You ask, hoping for at least a dollar difference.

"Did you see Mrs. Penneman out there?" Steve points in the direction of the kind old woman who greeted you.

"Mrs. Penneman?"

"She's at the front desk. She's retiring in exactly one week. That position will be open." He goes on to talk about the ways you could incorporate what you learned in your engineering classes as they switch from mostly paper to computers after Y2K.

"What's the pay like?" You ask, already knowing you plan to agree the second he stops talking.

"Not great, but!" He pauses for a moment. "Plenty of opportunities for overtime." Steve's not an idiot. He saw how looked when he was praising you. The way the red in your cheeks was flaming hot at the mere mention of you doing a good job. He knows what he's doing to you, and he loves it.

"Overtime?"

"Of course. Switching the entire employee records from paper to digital isn't an easy feat. It's going to take a lot of time you may not have during the work day. Does this suit you or should I keep looking?"

"Oh, uh," you hesitate. Steve stifles a grin as he watches your inner battle decide between being around him or possibly making more money. "Yes, that's perfect. Thank you, sir."

"Excellent. You start Monday." Steve ends the conversation abruptly. A jarring switch from friendly and conversational to busy and indifferent. It triggered something in you. A desperate need to get that warmth back.

"Right, okay. I'll... See you Monday." You leave the office, yearning. And Steve is well aware. He sits alone in his office, staring forward as he makes plans for you. He folds his hands together and rests his chin on them as he imagines the way he'll pick you apart like a toy. You're already so desperate for his approval, you've done the hard part for him.

Monday rolls around and you, of course, wake up a little early to get ready. Of course, you don't want to come off as desperate, so you're very tactful in the way you dress and present today, your first day. You've all but forgotten your ex was ever here, let alone the fact that you moved all the way to Hurricane, Utah for him.

Nervous, but good at hiding it, you walk into the building with a beaming false confidence. You're trying to remind yourself that while Steve is attractive and older and something mysterious about him draws you in, you're still here to work and you really can't let rent slip because homelessness is not an option when you're this far from your home state.

You brace yourself for what you assume will be an extremely long day, and you hope it is. Not only for the money but the view as well. When you walk up to the desk, Mrs. Penneman is nowhere to be found. All her belongings are missing from the desk, leaving a generic canvas of an office. You glance down the hall to Steve's open office door.

"Mr. Raglan?" You knock lightly on the door, stepping inside slowly so as not to intrude. He's not there. The entire building seems eerily empty. Just as you turn to leave his office, you run flat into a broad, solid figure. Steve. You stumble before finally falling backward. You sit on the floor for a moment, red-faced, but keeping your composure to the best of your ability.

"Someone's punctual." Steve extends a hand to you, helping you up to your feet.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Raglan. I couldn't find-"

"Mrs. Penneman decided an early retirement was in store. I'll be training you, if that's alright." Steve smirks, knowing he relieved his previous secretary of her duties early specifically to have this time working so closely with you. He dressed it up as a gift to her.

"Oh, okay. Of course. Where should I start?" You smile, awaiting instruction. You cling to every word he says, the guidance, the leadership. The way his dimples deepen when he smiles in the slightest. You become dependent on making him smile simply for this reason.

Steve sets you up for data entry and asks that you let him come check your work every so often to make sure things "meet his standards." You've never been more determined to do something perfectly in your life. With unbreakable focus, you start the first few tasks. You're mindful, double-checking, efficient, and fast.

"Mr, Raglan?" You appear like an angel in his doorway. He looks up from his papers and waits for you to continue. "I finished the first portion. Could you come check it for me?"

Steve smiles warmly as he stands to follow you to your desk. The warmth of his gaze melts you from your head to your pussy.

"This looks great, Y/N. Good job." He adds the last bit just to see the way your eyes shift and sparkle when he compliments you. He leaves you to do the rest of your work in peace, but he lingers a little longer in the hallway, watching you for a moment, carefully hidden from your view.

You pick up on the data entry rather quickly and finish the very last employee record by the end of your first week. When Steve comes to finalize the task, he grabs a chair and slides it next to yours so you can both look at the screen together. You're poised and collected by now, the initial lust seeming to die down after a week of seeing him every day. Though his words of approval still cause a knot to form in your stomach.

Steve picks up on your dwindling excitement and decides this is war. As the two of you sit next to each other, he carelessly allows his legs to take up more and more space. Normally a man's obliviousness in a situation like this would boil your blood, but when his thigh grazes yours so softly, you freeze. His touch lingers and he looks at you with half-lidded eyes. His face is dangerously close to yours. He leans in even closer, boldly placing his lips mere inches from your ear.

"You're a very impressive young woman. You know that?" His warm breath brushes against your ear, inviting a million little goosebumps across your skin. It takes everything in him not to chuckle at your visceral reaction. You're frozen, staring straight ahead, basking in the closeness to this man you desire so badly. A few moments pass and a light chuckle leaves his lips. Still ever so close, he speaks again. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"S-sorry! Thank you, Mr. Raglan. Sorry," you nervously laugh, wishing so badly you could go back in time and rip the sticker off your forehead that says "Fuck me, Mr. Raglan."

"Don't mention it." He suddenly withdraws from your personal space, leaving you clinging to the dwindling body heat he's left behind. His tall figure towers over you, especially so when you're sat. He's gone just as quickly as he arrived and you can't help but feel perplexed. Was he not just coming on to you? Did you project all of that onto a perfectly normal interaction? He warps your reality without even touching you.

"What the fuck?" You question aloud to yourself. Your heart is racing. Your mind is constantly replaying the moment. His voice, his words, all of it.

The next day, it starts as any other. You're replaying the day before over and over again, just as you did when you shamelessly touched yourself last night. The sound of his voice so close to your ear, the way his leg brushed against yours. Just thinking about it feels like butterflies in your stomach.

"Good morning, Y/N." Steve walks right past you. You try to return the greeting, but you're cut off by the sound of his office door closing. He's frustrated, but you're not sure why. Disappointed, but not really the probing type, you decide to just get to work. Today was supposed to be the day he trained you for a "side project" utilizing your coding skills, but you're hesitant to ask about it while he's so visibly upset.

The day continues as usual, though it does seem to drag on a little longer for you when you don't get to stare at Steve. You're straightening up the waiting area, bent at the waist to fan out the magazines. When you stand, there's suddenly a tall figure behind you. Steve is pressing the entire front of his body directly against you. You involuntarily release a small gasp when you feel what you're sure is his half-hard cock pressed against your ass. Steve takes only a second to inhale your scent and feel himself pressed against you before he whispers in your ear once again.

"You're my secretary, not my maid." He steps away and you frown, still facing away from him.

"I'm sorry, sir. I've run out of things to do." You shrug and you turn.

"Out of things to do? Already?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Yes, sir." Your formality is adorable to him. And something about you calling him "sir" makes him hard just hearing it.

"Well," Steve steps closer to you now that you're facing him. He's so tall, towering over you, craning his neck to keep his eyes locked on yours. "You're such a good girl," there it is. His words make you shudder. There's no way he's fucking with you right now, right? Wrong. He once again creates a gap between the two of you.

"Good kid with a good head on your shoulders. Try not to overthink it." He smirks at your beet-red face and swiftly disappears to his office. You're becoming frustrated. It's as if by the time he walks away, you're so enthralled that you can't remember whether or not your degenerate, horny brain over-dramatized the memory. Angry and even a little embarrassed, you make your way back to your desk.

Steve sits in his office carefully listening to the sounds of your frustration. He loves the way you'd fall to your knees for him right now if he asked, but he likes fucking with you more. He hears you sigh away the sexual tension and he grins. Having this much power over someone like you. You're so smart and beautiful, what are you doing melting in his hands like that? His strong hand finds the growing bulge in his slacks, hoping to relieve any of the pressure he's been building up for the both of you.

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply through his teeth still palming himself, picturing you bound and gagged in front of him. Maybe that's why he's so insistent on teasing you instead of fucking you on his desk like he knows you dream about. Maybe he wants the chase, the restraint. You're too easy, he wants you to be scared.

At the end of the day, you decide to say "fuck it" and see what he'll do if you match his energy. He's grabbing his things to leave when you slip into his office and close the door behind you. You're shaking-nervous, your heart is pumping at an inhuman rate. You have no idea what your plan is until it happens.

"Mr. Raglan, can I ask you a question?" You make your way across the room, passing the boundary of the front of his desk, standing with him behind it. Steve tilts his head in a bemused expression.

"Y/N, feeling a little comfortable, are we?" His sarcastic question leaves you a little more unsure of yourself, and you take a step back. "Ask away." Steve smiles innocently.

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but..." You're shocked at how steady your voice is as you fall into this sultry character you've created for yourself. It's never failed you before. "I feel like there's something you're trying to tell me. It's not very subtle." You lean against the desk casually. "Am I wrong?"

"Oh, wow," Steve can't help but grin, but he quickly replaces it with a smug, sarcastic expression. "You must be the queen of subtly, right?" His snarky words catch you off guard. "No, dear. Sorry about any miscommunications on my part. See you tomorrow, Y/N."

Steve steps around you and walks out the door without another word. You're stunned silent and extremely embarrassed. You consider leaving a resignation letter on your desk and never coming back. Furious, you slam the door to your car and drive home. By the time you get to your driveway, you've calmed down and accepted that everything you thought he was doing was just your imagination.

You're still angry, unable to fully accept that you'd be that delusional, but who really knows? From then on, you put away your fantasies and focus on work and getting money set aside for rent. The next few days continue like normal, with no more "misunderstandings" or advances. Until... Steve reaches for a binder off a shelf behind your desk. As he slides in behind you where you stand, right behind your pushed-in computer chair, and reaches his long arm up to the shelf, his other arm searches for a surface to brace on. That surface is your pencil skirt-clad waist.

You gasp quietly, but you don't allow yourself to react any further. Steve has the binder in his hand, but he doesn't remove the other from your waist. He lingers, staring at the back of your head trying to read whatever emotion must be displayed on the other side. You're rigid, like you usually are when he pushes these boundaries, but he also senses your frustration and boredom. He can't help but chuckle as he steps away.

"Thank you, Y/N," he says, waving the binder as he walks away to his office. Did he even need the binder? No, probably not. You huff at your seat, officially deeming him untouchable. You decide he must just be a weird old man that doesn't understand personal space and you can accept that now that he's no longer the object of your desire.

This is what he wanted. Your indifference. It's all part of his plan. As the days continue and your attraction settles to dust, he waits for you to make a mistake, any mistake. To his surprise and perhaps even dismay, you're nearly perfect. Then finally, you accidentally double-book a client meeting that leaves someone jobless with no way to reschedule. You're horrified and apologizing left and right to the man who is more than understanding, making you feel worse.

The man finally leaves, with no job, and no meeting. You sit at your desk and mentally scold yourself for being so careless. The stress of the approaching deadline of your rent seems to be taking a larger toll on you than you realized. Steve's client meeting ends and he sends the temp on his way with high hopes. You wish him a good day and try to focus on your computer.

"Y/N, can I see you in my office?" Steve appears from nowhere in front of your desk. He moves so silently when he means to, it's unsettling. You shamefully look up from your work and nod, following him to his office. You both sit in the appropriate seats and he releases a sigh.

"I'm disappointed in you, Y/N." His opening statement crushes you. "That was a huge fuck up, was it not?" His voice is stern and the use of cursing lets you know this is not a formal scolding. You're in trouble.

"I-I know, but it's the first one I've ever made since I started, sir."

"So that means I should just forget about it, right?" He leans back in his chair, folding his hands in front of him. "A man can't feed his family because he doesn't know when he'll have a ride back here."

"I know, sir. I'm... I'm sorry." You sigh, eaten alive with guilt. "He was very kind."

"Did you deserve it?" He's angry.

"No." You look away from him.

"What was that?" He tilts his head, eyebrows still arched. You glance at him, confused for a moment.

"No... Sir." You add.

"I think you're getting too comfortable here, Y/N. 'It's not very subtle.'" he quotes you and your face ignites with blush.

"O-Of course, sir. I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry."

"Well, don't be embarrassed. Do better." You nod and begin to stand to leave when he leans forward with a softer expression. "Coffee?"

"What?" You don't even mean to ask him to repeat himself, it was just such a jarring switch in tone.

"Coffee. I just made it." Steve stands and crosses the room to a little black coffee maker in his office that you'd never noticed before.

"Uh, sure." You accept, hoping the caffeine will give you some sort of drive to improve your current work performance. Steve pours you both a cup and passes one to you. They're the same cup, but his looks comically small in his large, nimble hands. You take a few sips of the hot, dark liquid and begin to feel light-headed.

Everything around you seems to melt away. You've completely disregarded where you are or why you might feel this way. You try to stand and you drop the still-full cup on the office floor. Steve watches it all leaning against the table across the room. He nonchalantly sips his coffee as he waits for you to collapse. Just as he planned, the minute you get to your feet, your knees buckle beneath you. You're out before you hit the floor.

"Look at this. Look how little you think of yourself the second you hear how disappointed I am." Steve chuckles as he lifts your unconscious body. You're bound and gagged in the back seat of his '79 Ford Fairmont as he makes his way to an undisclosed location. Yeah, that one.

You wake up with a deep, sharp gasp as if you'd been holding your breath the entire time. Your head is spinning and your vision is blurry as you try to scan your surroundings. It's a dank grey room littered with failed attempts at his "side project" he'd mentioned to you weeks ago. Crumpled endo-skeletons and half-built robot heads cover each corner while wires and bolts cover the rest. Your heart begins to race and you try to rise from the cold, metal table you reside on, only to find that your wrists and ankles are strapped in place with thick leather binds.

"What the fuck?" You mumble to yourself as you continue to try to wake up. "Hello?! Help! Help me, please!" You scream and thrash on the slab.

"They all say that, you know? They always scream for help as if anyone's coming." Steve slowly enters the door. His tie is loose along with a few buttons, and his sleeves are haphazardly shoved halfway up his arms. His normally carefully combed hair is disheveled and damp with sweat as if he'd been hard at work before entering this room.

"'They?'" You tremble, rattling the metal.

"Of course, you're the first for this type of venture, I guess. Normally I just skip to killing," he chuckles, removing his tie. You're in a state of shock, sheer disbelief. Hearing that last word sends you into hysterics.

"Please don't kill me, sir. I- I won't fuck up again, I promise. Please-"

"Shut. Up." Steve's stern voice cuts directly through your pleas. "I haven't decided yet."

Tears flow steadily down the sides of your face as he begins to grope you. His rough hands explore every inch of you. His calculated hands knowingly leave bruises on your tender skin.

"Please..." You whisper with your eyes tightly shut, afraid of every movement he makes.

"Sweetheart, if this part scares you, I'm not sure you're gonna survive what comes next." He's only inches from your ear as he whispers. Your body shudders with terrified sobs. The cries only get louder when you feel Steve cutting off your clothes. You're too afraid to fight him off, unsure of whether any injuries you may acquire would be accidental or not.

"Why are you doing this? I-I literally came on to you!" You try to find reason in his actions, mostly to distract yourself from the fact that you're completely exposed, the remnants of your clothes a tattered mess beneath you.

"Where's the fun..." he drags the tip of his knife softly from your ankle to your navel as he steps closer to your blushing face. "In that?" He continues, positioning the weapon to stab through your abdomen, should he press down with any effort at all. Goosebumps erupt over your skin. "Now, are you going to shut your fucking mouth or do I need to shut it for you?" He places a gentle hand on your cheek. You nod frantically, looking into his eyes. They look so calm.

You hate to admit it, but the way he touches you seems to attempt to dig up that insatiable attraction you felt for him not long ago. Your fantasies never ventured to this genre, but you used to dream of him making you orgasm. You're torn from that memory when you remember his admittance to murder and how you know that means you probably won't make it out of this room.

Steve places the knife to the side and slowly slips his middle finger inside you. You gasp, and he plunges away, growing rougher with each stride. He curls his knuckles and watches your face closely as your crying eyes roll back into your skull. You yank against your restraints, trying to squirm away from him, but he's ruthless.

"You're so... Peculiar, Y/N." He removes his fingers from you and cleans them of your undeniable arousal with a pocket handkerchief. "I almost caved when you confronted me in my office. So bold. It's been a riot just picking at you." Steve reaches a hand into a desk in this mysterious room and retrieves an unknown device. You gasp as he slips the small, cold object inside you.

"What are you-" your question is swiftly silenced by the small remote in Steve's hand activating a powerful vibration from the item in your pussy. His free hand rubs rhythmically up and down your clit, stimulating you further. Steve stares down at you as you melt away into pleasure, ashamed and silently begging for more. He's laughing at you, hovering his head over yours as you anxiously avoid eye contact.

"Look at me," he demands, but you can't. You shut your eyes. He releases a breathy chuckle and raises the intensity of the vibrating gadget. "Don't start enjoying yourself or I might have to really scare you." You don't want to know what that entails, so you force yourself to look into his soulless blue eyes. The eye contact deepens the red shade that washes over your cheeks and Steve shakes his head, laughing at you again.

"Why are you so embarrassed now? Would you still be this shy if I'd bent you over my desk like you wanted? You're so much tighter when you're scared." Steve abruptly removes the vibrating toy from between your legs. You whimper pathetically in the absence of stimulation. He leaves the room and returns with yet another machine. This one's larger, a box.

He places the box down between your legs, as close to your throbbing entrance as he can get it. The side of the box facing you is adorned with a hole housing a phallic shape made of soft, silicone material. Your heart is bound to give out at this pace. The box itself covers a mass of gears and wires, a motor to power the rod in and out of its destination. You.

"We'll start it out slowly for you, how's that?" Steve presses a button and the machine pushes into you, slipping in easily as your body clearly craves it. You whine and cry out in pain as the machine stretches you out, slowly boring in and out of you. "If this thing's too big for you, what makes you think you could've taken me?" He laughs as he leans against the desk and watches the mechanism fuck you out. Every so often, he increases the speed.

Finally, it's maxed out. You're squirming and wailing in overstimulated pleasure and pain.

"Please! Please, I can't take it- I can't-" your begs are ignored. Steve places a rough hand around your neck, carelessly cutting off your oxygen and blood flow while his other hand delicately flicks your clit. That's it, that sends you over the limit. You climax harder than you ever thought possible, drenching the machine that's still fucking into you as your body quivers. Steve allows you to breathe again and takes his sweet time powering down the penetration machine.

You're shaking. Your tear-stained face is frozen in a look of exhaustion. The last thing you're able to do is move or speak. Your breathing is a plethora of hitched coughs and gasps and you flinch at even the possibility of being touched again at all.

"I think you might be ready now." He unfastens your bindings and takes a step back to observe. You don't move at all, not a single muscle. The truth is, you can't, even if you wanted to. Steve smirks, pressing a foot-lever under the table that lowers you right down to his waist. Two powerful hands hook under your legs and pull you so your beaten hole is perfectly accessible to him. You cry out as he moves you.

"I-I can't, Steve. I-" Your nearly inaudible mumbles are knocked from your mouth as he lands a hard open palm slap across your face.

"You're going to." He makes quick work of his belt and quickly aligns himself with your entrance. At one point all you wanted from him was this, but now you'd rather be anywhere else. Your cheek is ablaze, covered with a spreading stinging sensation. You're too distracted by the pain to notice Steve rearing back. He slams into you at full force, throwing his head back in ecstasy.

"Nooo!" You whine, unsure of how much more your body can truly take.

"Fuck!" He's almost primal when he's inside you, digging his fingertips into your flesh like he intends to take it off your body. "After all of that, you're still so fucking tight."

He reaches to your breasts and roughly gropes at the delicate skin. Your weak hand tries to tug at his wrist, but he simply flicks you away like a pest, continuing the assault. He slams into you, hoping to do more harm than anything, smiling at your sobbing face. Your makeup is a smeared mess and your hair is in disarray from the way you fought back on the table. You look pathetic to him and he loves it.

"You want to be filled up, don't you sweetheart?" He huffs, slowly approaching his climax. Your eyes open wide and a new wave of fear and adrenaline shoots through you, but you're still too weak to manage. Steve easily pins your wrists by your shoulders and thrusts deeper and deeper, hooking his hips to temporarily reach the very limit of your cunt.

"Please don't! Mr. Raglan, please!" You beg between gasping sobs as you listen to his labored breaths become unsteady. His agonizing thrusts lose their rhythm and suddenly you can feel his thick erection twitching inside you, brushing your G spot and carrying you over the edge again as well. You didn't even think that would be possible at this point.

You and Steve ride out your highs. He continues to pump into you making a heinous sound as he fucks his cum deeper inside you. To his surprise, he remains hard, so he continues to rut into your destroyed pussy until his legs threaten to give out. Steve finishes inside you a second time, laughing as he watches your horrified face realize how full of him you are. He's taking his time pulling out of you, playing with your cum soaked clit until you finally pass out from exhaustion.

Steve releases a breathy laugh as he fastens his belt and collapses in a chair nearby. You're lying there, naked and dripping cum from your swollen, demolished pussy. He can't get enough of this view. His original plan was to just get rid of you when he was done here, why not? But this is too much fun for him. Maybe he needs a new pet.

[fandomwritingbit]

Curious

journalist (f)reader x William Afton

warnings: non con/rape, oral, p in v, threat, force, violence, murder/child murder, William is just vile the whole way through.

synop: you're tasked with researching the 'missing children's incident' and you have no idea just how dangerous that is.

A/n: mostly but not entirely proofread, because this is a fucking long one boys.

The moment your boss gave you the assignment, it pretty much engulfed your life. “The Missing Children Incident” as it was dubbed by the papers, referred to multiple child disappearances at a well-known children’s restaurant. You were excited with the task, thinking that finally you might have your name at the bottom of an article that actually means something. But you quickly figured out the reason you ended up with this story. The research was gruelling, nothing upon nothing turned up after hours of reading and talking to the parents. Well, the few that were willing to face a reporter. Your shovel hits rock every time forcing you to conclude that there’s nothing to be found. 

That didn’t mean you were off the hook though, your boss was still up your arse with deadlines, telling you over and over how he ‘needs you to get this sorted’ within the week.

So here you are, your last thread of a story pinched between your fingers, the business side of it. You’re standing outside the restaurant in question, the name lit up in front of you with the r in Freddy’s constantly flickering, clinging onto the hope that the owner would be willing to entertain you. At this point you’re just going to transcribe the discussion and send it to print, as you’ve come to learn something is better than nothing.

Stepping inside you’re instantly greeted with the overwhelming smell of pizza, it’s hot too, the many bodies milling around inside forming a wall of heat that makes you ache to take your jacket off. You stop for a moment to just look at the scene, children laughing in that piercing screechy way that all kids can muster, running around with foam swords or handfuls of the coloured balls from the ball pit. You want to take a photo but it doesn’t miss you how weird that would be without permission. 

As you walk around you begin to realise that it wasn’t anything special; tatty all over, the smell of grease and fast-food clinging to the faux velvet booths and garish carpet that laid in some areas of the restaurant. It was so painfully a kid’s place. You’re searching faces for anyone who looks like they have some sway around here, there’s the guards and the service staff but that’s not who you’re looking for. You know the names of the gentlemen who owned the place but there was a lack of photos available at the library, so right now you’re fully reliant on the powers of deduction. 

Then finally you reach the Show Room and truth be told, you were impressed. It was the only part of the Godforsaken place that wasn’t caked in crushed crayons or old unremovable stains. It looked somewhat cared for, rows of perfectly aligned seats in front of a large stage, those hanging lights, speakers and all.

And the animatronics? Well, they were... unnerving. You couldn’t help but stare at them, they were much bigger than you’d have thought, crazily so. And good God, their eyes. You find your face twisted in disgust. Talk about uncanny valley, these creatures were fucking chilling. You can’t believe that the children are so comfortable with them, when you can hardly even watch their ‘show’ without a heavy feeling in your chest. You quickly avert your eyes, remembering that you’re here for work and feeling glad the very moment you can’t see the animatronics anymore. 

It’s then that you finally catch sight of a lead, a tall bloke in a shirt and tie emerging from a staff only door. He has the bearing of someone higher up than the waitress he stoops down to talk to, so you take that as your green light, squeezing past a gaggle of children in your way. 

You catch the end of the conversation as you approach, the man leaning on the counter with a face like a storm. “Oh okay, Mr Afton. I’ll do that now.” The server says anxiously, looking like they want the ground to swallow them up, they go to move away and the owner scoffs. 

“Should have been done two fucking hours ago.” The waitress turns but doesn’t say anything else, quickly scurrying away to whatever task they’re being bollocked over. You wait a little awkwardly to be noticed, standing close enough that it should be obvious you’re waiting yet he doesn’t catch on at all, just continues staring sharply after his employees. So eventually you just sigh, changing position to be right in front of him. 

“...Excuse me?” You try, feeling anxiety cool your veins. He glances at you equally as harsh, the annoyed expression on his face not shifting but dulling enough to be customer friendly. 

He looks you up and down trying to figure out what the hell you want. You look too young to be a parent and too old to be a kid, his brows raise as he thinks about how young adults aren’t exactly his target market. “What?” It’s about as blunt as you’d expect and you smile awkwardly, feeling the pressure to be overly pleasant and steer this conversation to a habitable place.  

“Are you…” You look down to the notebook in your hand wanting to make sure you get his first name right, “William Afton, the uh owner?” He smirks a little, trying to look down at the paper as well, and see what you’ve got written down that is clearly about him. He can’t manage it from the angle and you soon turn the paper to your skin anyway. 

“Depends. Who are you?” That’s a yes, then, you think to yourself, though you already knew from your eavesdropping. This is beginning to feel like a bad idea, the vibes off this man are sceptical at best and the last thing you need right now is to be manhandled out of here. He raises his hand in an impatient shrug when you don’t answer quick enough, making you fumble for your work lanyard around your neck with your paper’s logo and then you give him your name. 

He hums in such a way that you can’t tell if it’s good or bad, so you try to explain yourself just to fill the silence. “I was hoping to ask you some questions. About the missing children who were last seen here.” 

At the phrase “missing children” his eyes swiftly find yours and you gulp, if he’s trying to scare you off it just might work because right now you not only wish that you weren’t here, but also that you weren’t assigned the story, Hell that you didn’t take journalism at uni. Your face must have betrayed you because he laughs, standing up straight. 

“And what questions do you have for me, huh?” There’s an accusation to his tone that backfoots you even more. He’s struggling to keep the amusement from his expression because you must be a pretty shitty reporter to get spooked this easily. But that'll just make you more fun to play with.

“Just about how the uh events have affected business…” You’re barely sound professional and the owner still doesn’t look convinced, so you continue, “It won’t take long, 15 minutes tops, I can see you’re a busy man.” You smile at the end in an effort to sell the flattery a bit more, and as sweet as you look, he knows you’d probably jump out of your skin at the word boo right now. 

He shakes his head slightly, not necessarily at you or himself, just at the situation overall. Course you didn’t come in an hour ago and catch Henry, obviously not, but at least this will get him away from work for a little while, which he needs before someone gets on his nerves enough to get fired. You stand waiting for him to answer, your lip pinched between your teeth, it’s that nervous habit that props him to say yes.

“This’d better be an interesting 15 minutes, sweetheart.” You sigh in relief, hopeful that you’ll finally get something to put in an article, but that relief soon evaporates when you realise that the work isn’t over yet. “Through there.” He nods to the staff door he entered the room through and you smile politely, walking over to it with him. 

“Thank you, Mr Afton, I really appreciate it.” You quickly blurt out your gratitude as he types in a code to open the door, then holds it open for you, but all pleasantries dry up on your tongue when you notice his knuckles are skinned and badly too, it looks recent. Because you’ve stopped dead he looks down at you with a cocked eyebrow, grinning when he notices what you’re staring at. You shake your head at your obviousness, panicking to play it off somewhat cool. 

“Accident at work?” You ask as you fully enter the much darker corridor, which only gets more dim when the door closes behind him. 

Your smile is noticeably strained as you look at him for a response, he meets your eyes and just says, “No.” in a menacingly matter of fact way. God, you think to yourself, this guy is scary, how the fuck does he work with kids? You mouth ‘oh’, playing with your hands to try and steady the growing worry nestling in your gut. 99% of your brain is saying to just leave it and face your boss’s wrath, but the foolish 1% arguing that it can’t get any worse is much too vocal. 

“Keep going. We’re going right to the back.” He pulls you out your thoughts and you obey, skin prickling under his gaze as you walk ahead of him down this staff hallway that seems to be very much lacking staff. The two of you continue until you run out of corridor, a choice between a room on the left or right making you halt. William chooses before you can ask, opening the left door and again propping it for you. 

You smile some gratitude his way as you step through the gap, the close proximity between his bigger frame and yours making you shiver in something akin to fear. 

“Are you cold?” He asks and you get the feeling that he’s mocking you. 

Ignoring it you move on. “Uh a little. Cold and dark back here, huh?” You answer, happy that you did wear your jacket after a toss up about leaving it in the car. 

“And quiet.” He adds, walking past you to take a seat on the chair at the desk in the centre of the room. This office is sparsely decorated and as intimidating as the man it likely belongs to. 

You hesitate to sit yourself, your internal dialogue finally voicing your doubts about this conversation.  “... You know, if you’d rather not have this conversation, it’s okay. I’d hate to think I've put you out…” You trail off but the man doesn’t say anything, just continues looking at you, a slight smile grazing his face. At his lack of reaction you shrug, exasperated. 

“What gave you that impression?” He speaks with amusement, and you very nearly scoff. What gave you that impression? He can’t be serious, he’s been evidently unhappy with your intrusion since the beginning and it’s starting to feel like he’s just trying to scare you off. 

So you say as such. “I don’t know, you don’t seem happy.” 

William chuckles but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He’s been enjoying making you uncomfortable, the widening of your eyes has made his cock hard and he sure as hell isn’t finished yet. But he’ll reel it in for now, lest you try and leave. “That’s just the way I am, sweetheart. There’s a reason why I don’t do the radio ads.” He flashes you a business smile, sitting back in the chair.

You visibly relax a bit at the half joke, satisfied with the explanation that his odd behaviour is just an eccentric personality but you still feel on edge. The only thing keeping you in the room is your work, after all this you need something to show for it, and this guy feels like a golden ticket. 

“I take it, that’s your partner’s role… Henry Emily?” You ask as you pull out the chair on the other side of the desk, hoping that sitting down will force him to look anywhere else other than your body. 

He scoffs a little, “Sure. You didn’t have to look at your notes for his name.” He observes, with an accusatory tone to the words. Sensing bad blood you present him your palms in some kind of surrender. 

“I’ve just never heard of anyone with Emily as their last name. Stuck with me.” You explain, thinking about how much of a nightmare this ballbuster must be to work for.

Looking at him, you find it difficult to read the stern expression on his face, having to look away when he meets your gaze head on. Only looking back at the shuffling sound of him moving the seat back and thudding his shoes on the desk, resting his feet there in a very unprofessional way. 

“You’re lucky you caught me today, Henry can be… funny with pretty young lasses like you.” He considers the word funny and you catch the meaning straight away. If the other guy is “funny” you don’t know what the hell to call this. 

“Lucky me.” You mutter, sarcasm dripping from the words. You didn’t exactly want him to hear that but the grin on his face tells you that he did. It doesn't miss you that this is a pretty handsome bloke, a silver fox, some might say. But the only silver you see is the glinting of a metallic tooth. 

At the beat of silence, he interrupts your thoughts. “You gonna ask me your questions or not?” You blink, quickly reaching for your notepad and pen, fumbling all the way. Whilst you do he smirks to himself at how you probably should have done your shirt up another button because he can see the fabric of your bra peeking over. Not that he minds.

You eventually manage, getting your papers sorted and glancing up to find that the bloke’s eyes had been on you the entire time. “The uh 26th of June, the day the five children  went missing, were you there?” You’ve rehearsed these questions a bunch and they’re written down in front of you, but you still struggle to get it out, sounding pathetic and uncertain. And whilst that may be how you feel, this guy doesn’t have to know that. 

Amusement doesn’t leave his features for a second, “Course I was.” He answers bluntly. 

“And… Did you know any of the victims?” You glance at the sheet with the five names on it, ready to give him them if he needs prompting. 

“Victims?” You curse the choice of words, technically no crimes had occurred, no individual had been found, these kids might not be victims at all. Well of anything more than complete and utter negligence from parents and restaurant staff. But you know as well as him that five children don’t just disappear without anyone having seen them. 

You stumble, “The children. Gabriel, Susan-”

He cuts you off, speaking somewhat meanly. “I don’t make a habit of befriending little kids.” At this point he’s trying to make you feel stupid, and it’s working enough that you glare at him. Poor thing must be getting whiplash, he thinks to himself, you react so plainly to everything he says it’s just delightful. You’re about to give up and move on but he continues, “But I seen them on the day. Recognised some of the pictures the police shown me.” Well that’s the answer you were looking for in the first place, the smug bastard. 

Nodding you veer off track, curiosity spurring your question, “You were interviewed by police?” 

He laughs incredulously, not liking the implications of your questioning. “We all were. Hell, I was fucking liable for it, had to hire more security staff.”  

You continue through your list of questions; what other measures did you put in place? Has the incident affected business? How do you personally feel about the events? And your staff? Each question is answered nonchalantly, a mixture of apparent boredom and sharpness to his responses. You long to ask him if he was this compliant for police, ‘this’ being the bare fucking minimum. Which you suppose could be down to him having to answer all this many times by now. But for some reason it still doesn’t sit right with you. 

After about twenty minutes you’ve got enough to finally put this assignment to bed, which you thank god for at this point. Now you can get away from this man and the gross feeling you get when he locks eyes with you. 

“I think that’ll do it, Mr Afton.” You try to smile politely, though it probably comes off wobbly. “Uh, thank you for your time.”  You add, not wanting to irritate him anymore than you likely already have. 

William nods, taking his feet off the desk and standing. You assume he’s going to get the door for you or something, so you gather your sheets up and push your chair back. Or you try to. Because you instantly bump into his figure behind you, his foot catching the wheels. From above you he can see how your brows immediately knit, confused, scared whatever it is. 

And when you turn to see what he’s doing he angles himself so you’re eye to eye, so to speak, with the bulge in his trousers. Physically jolting in your chair, you almost feel sick. You knew something about this was very wrong and like a fucking idiot you went along with it. And now you’re all alone in a back office with a scary bloke and his fucking boner. You open your mouth to speak, forcing yourself to not turn again, but you let it die when he gets there first. 

“So we’re all done? I’ve given you what you need.” The way he speaks is loaded with intention and it has your legs pressing together, you want to shiver but force yourself into stillness, “But you've not given me anything in return. What are we going to do about that, huh?”

Your mouth is dry, making it hard to form some words. “I-I think you’ve got the wrong idea-”

“Really?” He asks with heavy mock surprise, sucking air through his teeth in a pitying way. You go to continue but a harsh hand suddenly finds grip in your hair, jerking your head to the side so the tent in his trousers is shoved against the side of your face. His body heat is the first thing you register and you instantly repel, pushing your chair back into him hard and panicked. 

He lets you rive yourself free, watching amused as you almost violently turn round, bumping into the desk behind you, your chest heaving with shaky breath. “I had no idea you thought that… that’s- No. No.” You babble excuses trying to de-escalate this futilely, hardly even noticing the cruel way he laughs at you.  

“Uh huh.” He nodded in faux understanding, god the way you look right now, ravaged by panic, makes his cock twitch. William steps close to you and you quiver in response, you’d give anything to be at home, hell anywhere else really, anywhere away from the reality of the dark look in the eyes of the man invading your personal space. “Come on, love. I’ll make it good for you.”

As he speaks his hand roughly cups your breast, your bra doing nothing to disguise the harshness of the touch and you exhale staggeringly from your nose. You try to pull away but his body keeps you there against the desk, his other hand firmly groping your arse. Your body is responding to him but your mind is screaming, it just feels dangerous and wrong and no fluttering in your core can make up for that. 

“Please…” You mutter, your hand pulling at the wrist whose fingers are so intent on prying under your bra. 

He chuckles, easily flicking your hand away and pushing you back on to the desk behind you, forcing you to prop yourself up briefly. It feels like you exist in slow motion because all of a sudden you’re patting along the desktop searching for something to defend yourself with, instinct fully kicking in. Eventually your fingertips brush the spine of a book and the realisation of what you’re about to do is electric in your veins. It comes easily, the movement fluid as you grip the book and slam it hard between his ribs, using your feet to push him away in his vulnerable state. The pained grunt from him is all the confirmation you need to get to your feet and run to the door, throwing yourself out of the room. 

“Jesus… fucking…” He winces, turning himself to see the door close behind you. That hurt like hell, winded him even, you crafty little shit. It’s as he’s trying to get his bearings back, he realises that he probably went too far. Fuck, you won’t get very far without the doorcode, he’ll have to follow you out there.

You get halfway down the corridor before you see the keypad illuminated by the red LED above it, you can’t go back out there, but what fucking else are you suppose to do? You turn around quickly, desperately scanning the hall for anywhere else to go, a fire door or something but no. There’s only the other internal rooms. It takes you a moment to think clearly over the thrumming of your blood but you finally decide on hiding, getting yourself inside one of these rooms and playing the waiting game. This is a restaurant after all, someone else will have to come down here eventually and you can have them open the door for you. It’s the only option. 

You try a few of the doors but find them locked, your frantic searching making the tightness in your chest worse and worse, until you see a heavy metal looking door with a ‘private’ sign on it. The keys are still sticking out the lock. 

By the time he can breathe comfortably enough to go after you, you’re nowhere to be found. He expected you to be standing by the door, perhaps holding another weapon, but no, you’re not there. He frowns, confusion washing over him before he realises that you must seriously be hiding, it makes him laugh. Come on, it’s not like he was going to hurt you. Much. 

The room you’re in is completely pitch black, so much so that you can’t tell if it’s huge or just the illusion of the dark. You stay close to the door, watching the tiny stream of light peeking out from under the door, you watch it like a hawk, waiting for that psycho to walk past. His footsteps are light, but you can just catch them, what’s more suspect is the jiggling of door handles, exactly what you did seconds ago. The thought scares you into action, you’ll have to hide more, there must be somewhere in this room you can stay out of view, so you feel around in the darkness, hands outstretched so you don’t bump into anything. You find shelves separating the room into two halves and as you go around them your fingers brush something big. 

You can feel the presence of something huge in front of you, you trace the cold metal shape, your hands shaking as you feel the dip of an arm. The fright of it makes you flinch away, catching something sticking out from the shelf and it clatters noisily to the floor. 

The sound echoes, your pursuer flinching at the suddenness of it, he turns to the direction it came from and scowls. He’s a fucking idiot for leaving it open, but you, you’re more of an idiot for going in. 

As soon as his hand touches the door handle you cower behind the shelves, hoping the dark will be to your advantage but, knowing the place so well, WIlliam finds the light switch easily. And just like that your plan crumbles to fucking dust. 

Straight away you begin imploring him, stumbling to your feet and distraughtly babbling when his tall figure shuts the door, the metal clanging of the keys immediately following. 

With wide eyes you beg him, “Look… I’m sorry, okay? I really am- I don’t want any trouble-” 

“Well, you’ve fucking found it.” He says jeeringly, a visible tightness in his jaw that hadn’t been there before making your hands clammy. “Don’t you know better than to trespass in private areas? You never know what you might stumble across-” 

“What?” You interrupt, your voice frenzied and threatening to drop any ties to sensibility you have left, “An old store room? The secrets of the trade? I don’t care- I didn’t-” Your barely sensicle plea is cut short by the starling way he moves towards you, fiercely grabbing your arm and spinning you round to look at the half-formed animatronic you had touched. You stare perplexed, before he sighs and a grip takes root on the back of your next, shoving you across the room in front of another decommissioned suit. There he forces you down on your knees and the very second the concrete bruises your skin, your airways are filled with the most vile stench. 

The smell is wrong and your body rejects it instantly, making you gag as you fall back onto your behind, scrambling to get away from it. If you were scared before, it was nothing compared to the sheer terror you feel now. Your eyes are watering from the stench but even through the blurr you make out the dull copper pool that the suit is sitting in. You retch again, this time making him laugh, you stupid little girl. 

“You get it now?” He speaks in a snide way, a sharpness in his tone forcing you to readjust to the gravity of this situation. 

“...What is that?” Your voice trembles, hand coming to cover your nose. You know what it is, somewhere in your gut, deep-set in your dna you know. And it’s incomprehensible. The list of names you abandoned in his office flickers in your mind, making you dizzy. 

The man above you scoffs, palming the erection in his trousers that was probably the hardest it had ever been, and he briefly thinks about how fucked up that is. He lets your question hang in the air for a moment, watching how you stare at the evidence in front of you, your whole body shaking. Before eventually breaking it, “How’s that for your article?” He sniggers, the words dripping with venom. 

You look up at him dumbstruck at what he was almost admitting, before panic-driven getting to your feet, struggling to stand anywhere near this disgusting man or the suit in the corner. The danger surrounding you feels suffocating, making it hard to speak.  “I- fuck my article.” You laugh but it's touching hysteria as you step towards William before stepping back again, “I don't- I won't write anything, I want nothing to do with this. Just, please, let me leave.” 

You search his face for any trace of humanity but it’s void, in its place a sadistic look that only amplifies at the horrified look on your face. As you continue glaring at him, he snickers, “Go on. Keep selling it.” 

It feels more than impossible to keep yourself together, tears of futility are pricking your eyes as you think about whether people would look for you if you never leave this room. You gulp, “I just- want to go home.” You start slow but the words cause a landslide of begging, “I didn’t mean to offend you- I had no idea. I had no idea what would happen… I just wanted to do my- my job.” By the time you’re finished, you’re fully crying.

“Offend me?” He laughs meanly, “And to think you could have just spread your legs for me and you’d be home by now. But no,” He stops chuckling, as he looks you up and down in the most predatory way. “Now, you’re in here with me, wasting my time talking like I could just let you walk out of here.” He shakes his head.

“Please.” You try, but the unmoving look of resolution on his face shows you there’s no hope. He doesn’t feel sorry for you. He doesn’t want to give you mercy. You wrack your brain trying to think about what he does want and it settles on what landed you in here in the first place. 

You step closer to him, praying that your knees will be strong enough to keep you up. He can practically see the cogs turning in your head as you look up at him, your mascara trailing down your cheeks. “I’ll-” You swallow, “I’ll do anything.” 

“Oh yeah?” The sarcasm is palpable. 

You nod frantically, falling into your last hope. You reach for him, hand shaking as you touch  the hardness in his trousers. He watches you, finding immense joy in how weak you’ve become, all you needed was to see a little blood and your resolve shatters. You see his chest settle as he exhales, so you continue, grabbing him over the fabric and trying not to think about what you’re doing. 

“That’s fucking pathetic.” He jeers, loving the way your lip trembles. 

“I’ll do better.” You try, moving to his belt and pulling at the buckle. You’re taking too long to undo it, so he grabs you by the hair, pulling you away so he can do it himself. It makes you wince in pain, but you grit your teeth and bear it, moving with his grip onto your knees before he pulls again. 

Your knees are bruised from earlier, yet that’s the furthest thing from your mind when you’re confronted by his dick, rock hard and big. He’s gifted and you wish you’d just gone along with him earlier, this is 1000x more dehumanising than a skeezy fuck in his office would have been. That thought must register on your face because he jerks your head towards him, roughly. Remembering the bed you’ve made for yourself, you wrap your hand around his length, quickly joining in your other hand and stroking him, forcing yourself not to look at him. He makes a noise you take as a good sign, so you continue. 

Bringing your head closer to him, you run your tongue over his tip, struggling not to grimace at the salty taste of the precum on his cock. The enthusiasm you’re showing him is completely false, a plea for life on the flimsy idea that sucking him off well enough will be your freedom. Slowly you take his head in your mouth and he hisses, grinning in the victory of having you try so hard. You use your tongue to tease him, swirling it around as your hands stimulate him at the base, his groan involuntarily stirring your core. His grip on your hair flexes, impatient at your provocative action and you obey, hollowing your cheeks and taking as much of him as you can, gagging when his tip presses hard in the back of your throat. As you do he holds your head right there, revelling in the way you involuntarily contract around him. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to the intrusion, straight away using your mouth like a toy, shoving his cock in and out in a rhythm that has you desperately clinging on to him silently begging for respite. 

It’s brutal and when he finally pulls back, you gasp for breath, suddenly aware of the saliva trailing down your chin in the most humiliating way. Your jaw aches from the size of him and the moment for breath is near heavenly. He rubs himself on your lips and you’re not sure if the stickiness is him or you, but you take it, sticking out your tongue in a degrading manner that you assume is what he wants. You must be right because he grins. 

“You’ve done this before, huh?” He sneers, his voice thick with restraint because he doesn't want to be done, not just yet. Not before he’s had a taste of your tight cunt.  

You nod as much as you can not wanting your silence to be interpreted as insolence, still giving his cock your full attention, sucking him like you really really want it. But it must not be good enough, because he yanks your head back, forcing you to look up at him as he speaks sharply. 

“Get up.” The command is so firm that you don’t react for a moment, but once it’s registered you trip over yourself trying to obey. You know in your gut that the worst is yet to come. 

You stand in front of him uncertainly, waiting for your next order. It comes in the form of a rough grip on your face, shoving you towards the wall and holding you strict there. William feels like a god with the terrified awe you look at him with, and he is a fucking god, he choses whether you live or die. Whilst mentally praising himself, he pulls your shirt open, ignoring the pop of the buttons and jerks your bra down, exposing your tits to the chill of the room, your nipples are peaked so nicely he can’t resist pumping his dick to the sight of them.  

You stare transfixed at the view before you, too scared to even notice him tugging at your waistband, meanly pulling your trousers from you, set on having you completely vulnerable to him. Some kind of whimper leaves your lips when the clothing hits the floor, only becoming more pathetic when he cups your pussy, nastily pressing his thumb over your clit, it makes your body jolt with unwitting pleasure. You hate yourself for it, after what you’ve come to know how can your core be willing? It’s sick. 

No, he’s sick, you force yourself to think and he keeps up stimulating you, eager to have you fall apart on his cock. You’re going to cry for him and you’re going to fucking love it. He forces your legs further apart and you shiver seeing him lined up with your hole, your slick is a mercy but you still resent it. 

He grips your hip as he forces his cock inside you, making your walls accept him all at once, it hurts and you cry out as he sinks fully to the hilt. You feel full of him, not just your cunt but your blood, your head, like he owns you. The sizzling pain of the stretch fizzles down to a static ache once he starts moving, the difference in height forcing him to lift you up slightly, your weight nothing compared to the tight grip of your pussy.

You’re whining like an injured animal, letting him selfishly fuck you, his pace soon becoming as cruel as it is deep. Partially disassociating all you can think is the rough snap of his hips, punctuated by the clinking of what you assume is his belt. He tilts the angle of your hips so you’re squeezing around him more, rubbing your bundle of nerves maliciously as his tip bruises the part of you that makes you see white. 

“There she is.” He hisses in your face, not relenting for a moment. “That’s how you fucking like it.” As vile as his taunting is, it's based in truth because you can’t deny the unwilling knot in your core that’s strangling you with the need to snap.  And it does, your body going stiff with the intensity of it, it’s all-consuming, inescapable as it seizes you entirely.

He can’t help but explode inside you at the feeling of your walls grasping around him, you go limp in his grip as he fucks you through his end, shoving his cum further and further into you. 

Your ears are ringing as you come to your senses, well, what’s left of them. You’re full of him, his filthy release trickling down your leg. William looks to the side as he gets through his climax, keeping himself wrapped in your heat, his eyes narrowing as a dark thought rears its head: he’s got bigger suits… maybe you’ll fit.

[megggyeggy]

A Terrifying Tale From The Darkened Pizzeria

Some kind of Headcase (Pt. 2 of Hell Hath No fury.)

Pt. 1 here

Trigger Warnings: None really. “Steve” is a weirdo. Mentions of Mike beating up a guy. Mike is annoyed. So is his girlfriend.

July 20th, 2000. Mike Schmidt’s home. 12:02 PM.

Anna was at home with her boyfriend’s little sister, she was making lunch as she glanced over at Abby who was making a new drawing. “Abby, lunch is ready.” Anna told the little girl who didn’t respond to her, distracted by her drawing. “Abby,” Anna called her name in a sing-song voice, the little girl looked up with curious eyes as she made eye contact with Anna. “Yes?” The woman sighed out as she watched Abby, placing a hand on her hip. “You need to eat, honey.” Anna spoke in a soothing voice, smiling at Abby. “How’s the drawing coming?” Anna questioned, nudging her head in the direction of the paper. “It’s almost done..you are in this one!” Said Abby, grinning from ear to ear. Anna hummed as she smiled at the little girl, Abby’s curls framing her face. “I am? Make sure you get my good side,” Anna joked with a wink, placing the plate in front of Abby. On the plate was a toasted BLT sandwich. Breakfast for lunch. “Eat up, Y’know Mike will have a fit if you don’t eat.” Anna teased as she nudged Abby, taking a seat at the kitchen table next to Abby as she began to eat.

The two girls had eaten lunch together while bonding over Abby’s newest drawing, “Who’s that?” Anna questioned as she pointed at a stick figure of a little boy in a striped shirt. “That’s my friend.” Abby told Anna with a small smile, Anna hummed softly with a nod. However, the front door had opened to reveal Mike. This caused Anna to frown as she stood up from her seat, “Eat,” Anna told Abby before walking into the living room. “Mike?” Anna looked at her boyfriend with furrowed brows, “What’re you doing home so early?” Anna questioned with furrowed brows. Mike looked at Anna with a frown, frustration written on his face as he watched her. “I was fired.” Mike muttered softly, he fiddled with his keys as he looked down at his hand, the knuckles bruising. “Again? Mike-“ Anna sighed out as she looked at Mike with a worried look on her face, “What happened?” Mike looked away from Anna, a bashful look spreading across his features. “It was a misunderstanding…” Mike breathed out, looking at his little sister with a conflicted expression on his face, “Hey, Abby. Go get your jacket on, gonna take you to daycare. I have to meet with someone important, okay?” Mike told his little sister who sighed out, grabbing her crayons and her paper before walking to her bedroom to get her jacket and notebook.

“Mike, are you gonna tell me what happened?” Anna questioned with worried eyes, she turned to the coat hanger to grab her jacket and pull it on as she watched her boyfriend. “I thought-..I thought this guy was kidnapping a kid..turns out, it was his dad..” Mike explained in a soft and defeated voice. Anna’s expression softened as she observed Mike, “Oh..Mike.” She sighed out, gently gripping the collar of the man’s jacket as she looked up at him. He had dark bags under his eyes, exhaustion written all over his face. Anna kissed Mike gently, causing his eyes to flutter shut as he gently cupped her cheek. “Gross.” Abby grunted as she pushed between the couple to open the front door, Anna smirked at the curly haired girl before looking at Mike, the couple sharing a laugh together.

The trio made their way out to Mike’s beat up car, Anna helped Abby into the car as she buckled her up before getting into the passenger seat. “So who is this important person you are going to meet?” Anna questioned curiously, looking at Mike with a look of interest in her eyes. “He’s a career counselor..hopefully he can help me find a new job.” Mike sighed in frustration while Anna nodded her head in agreement, looking down at her hands. “Well, I’m going with you.” Anna told her boyfriend who hummed, “You don’t have to-“ Anna squinted at Mike before shaking her head, “I want to.”

July 20th, 2000. Career Counseling Office. 1:46 PM.

The career counselor was sitting in front of Mike and Anna, the couple side eyeing one another in an uncomfortable silence. What was this guy’s deal? Is he going to say anything? Finally, the man had turned in his seat as he faced the couple. Mike’s file in his hands as he read over it, brows pinched together as he hummed. He didn’t seem to be impressed. ‘Steve’ looked up at Mike with narrowed eyes, he sighed out as if this was an inconvenience. “What is your deal, Mike?” The words seemed to slide off the man’s tongue like venom. Anna tensed up as she glanced between the two men with furrowed brows, “Are you…” Steve made a gesture with his hand, “some kind of head case?” Steve questioned which caused Anna to frown. “Excuse me?” Anna questioned in surprise, he couldn’t speak to Mike like that!..Could he? Obviously he could, cause he was. With Mike, however, it didn’t seem to bother him. He was relaxed in his seat as he looked at Steve with an unamused expression. Steve looked at her and arched his brow at Anna’s words, “Mike beat up a man in broad daylight,” Steve looked at Mike and folded his hands together. “In front of his child.” Anna pursed her lips together as she seemed to crumble down into her seat, looking at Mike with a small frown. He didn’t tell her that…Mike let out a nervous chuckle as he bobbed his head, “T-..That was a mistake..um..it was a misunderstanding. I thought-“ Steve let out a scoff as he looked down at the file, pointing at it. “Just look at your employment record. Tire zone, sales associate, two months, terminated. Insubordination.” Mike let out an annoyed sigh as he rolled his eyes, cracking his neck to try and calm himself down. “Media world! Custodial staff, one week!” Steve exclaimed as he held up one finger, he looked at Mike with narrowed eyes. “It’s like you're not even trying here, yet you sit before me asking for help.” Steve muttered as he flipped through the pages, looking at Mike with an amused expression now. “I am just trying to figure out who you are, Mr. Michael Sh…” the man seemed to freeze, his brows pinching together. He mentally read it twice, as if making sure he read it right. Mike looked between the paper and Steve multiple times, waiting for him to speak. An awkward silence once again fell upon the trio, Anna shifted in her seat uncomfortably as she glanced at Mike. ‘What the hell?’ She mouthed to Mike who shrugged his shoulders, the couple looked back at Steve who raised his head to look at Mike. A look of…fear? Yeah..a look of fear in his eyes. Steve’s brows furrowed together as he leaned forward in his seat, the seat creaking beneath him as he stared hard at Mike. Observing him.

Steve closed the folder file and tossed it onto his desk, smacking his lips together as his body now relaxed. “Coffee?” Steve offered as he looked between Mike and Anna, “Sorry?” Mike questioned in annoyance as if he didn’t hear Steve right. Anna frowned as her nose scrunched up in confusion, “What?” Anna muttered softly as she looked at Steve with a squint. Steve stood up and rubbed his sweaty hands onto his dress pants as he pointed to the coffee machine, “Uh-..would you-..w-would you like some-..some coffee? I made coffee.” The man stuttered nervously as he walked over to the coffee machine. Anna and Mike shared a confused glance together before looking over their shoulders at Steve. “No..” the couple said in unison. Steve poured himself a cup of coffee, holding the coffee cup to his chest as he looked out the window of his office. “I-..I’m gonna be brutally honest with you here, Mike..given your track record, your options…” Steve paused for a moment before speaking again, “are gonna be extremely limited.” Steve told Mike as he turned to face Anna and Mike now. Mike shook his head in frustration, “I’ll take anything, okay? Any-..Any job you got..” Mike stuttered out, he needed a job…he needed money, he had to take care of his little sister. Anna placed her hand onto Mike’s shoulder, her thumb caressing that spot. “No-..No..look, I get that part..um..it’s just-…” Steve stuttered as he walked back to his desk and sat down, placing his coffee cup on the right side of his desk while tossing his hands in the air. “You know, it’s not that easy.” Steve told Mike, a worried look in his eyes. Anna frowned as she looked at Mike who pursed his lips, sighing out in defeat as he nodded his head. “Yeah-..thank you.” Mike spoke softly, standing up while holding his hand out for Anna to take. “Thanks,” Anna said to Steve who nodded his head, staring off into space. The couple made their way to the door, however Steve suddenly sat up straight while exclaiming. “I have a job for you!” Mike and Anna froze in their spots, looking at the man with annoyed expressions. Didn’t he just say it wasn’t that easy? Now all of the sudden he has a job? Mike glared at Steve with a soft scoff, “Come on, sit down!” Steve gestured towards the seats with his hand, “Sit, sit, sit, sit, sit.” Steve repeated with a wide grin on his face now, looking between the couple with a friendly expression on his face now. Anna looked at Mike who shrugged his shoulders while rolling his eyes, gesturing for her to sit back down. Anna sighed as she walked back over to her seat and looked at Steve with an uncomfortable look on her face. This guy was so..odd.. “I thought you said you didn’t have a job?” Anna questioned in annoyance that Steve smiled at her tightly, chuckling softly. “Yeah, well..Y’know..I just remembered.” Steve chuckled while Mike looked at Anna, shaking his head as if telling her not to make a big deal out of it. Anna sighed in frustration as she leaned back in her seat while Mike sat up, his back hunched as he stared at Steve with an annoyed expression. “Okay-..uh..well, what is it?” Mike questioned, he wanted to get out of this office already. It was uncomfortable and this guy didn’t help with that. “It’s a security gig,” Steve told Mike with a neutral look, shrugging his shoulders. “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.” Steve told Mike as he pointed at him, before shrugging as a small grin tugged at his lips.

Steve added, while Mike looked down in thought..he glanced back up at Steve with an interested look. Steve shook his head as he used his hands as he spoke, “And you only have to worry about one thing,” Steve said as he lifted one finger up, a lopsided grin on his face. “Keeping people out.” This seemed to interest Mike further. He didn’t have to deal with people? That was perfect. Mike raised his head as he watched Steve closely, giving him his full attention. Anna however, still was unsure about this. Why all of the sudden did he want to give Mike the job? “And-..And, you know, and keep the place tidy.” Steve added as he gestured with his hand, brows pinched together. “That’s two things,” Mike and Anna said in unison, Steve glanced between the couple..his grin falling from his face as an annoyed expression appeared on his face. “You want the job or not?” Steve questioned Mike as he folded his hands together. “How’s the pay?” Anna questioned curiously, which Steve shook his head. “Not great.” Steve then grinned as he nodded his head quickly, “But, the hours are worse!” Steve said, his lips tightening, it was as if he was trying not to laugh in their faces. That’s why he wanted to give Mike this job. Asshole..It was a crappy job. Mike sighed as he looked down, whispering.

“I can’t do nights.” Steve’s brows pinched together as he leaned forward, not hearing what Mike had said. “Excuse me?” Mike rolled his eyes as he bowed his head, “I can’t do nights.” Mike said loud and clear now, glaring at the man across from him. Steve chuckled out as he watched Mike with an amused expression, his smile slowly fading as he looked at Anna. “That’s such a shame…” He muttered as he seemed to look Anna up and down, this caused Anna to shift in her seat uncomfortably. Mike stared hard at Steve, brows furrowed together as he glanced at his girlfriend who was clearly uncomfortable. “Yeah..thank you.” Mike muttered as he stood up, “C’mon,” Mike spoke softly to Anna who immediately stood up and grabbed onto Mike’s hand, following him to the door. Steve had suddenly leaped out of his seat, grabbing a car from his desk. “Wait! Uh..” the sudden movement caused Anna to squeak in surprise, looking at the man who towered over them. Jeez..he was tall. The man made Mike and Anna look like a child compared to him. “In case you have a change of heart..” Steve said with a shrug, which Mike hummed and grabbed the card. The couple made their way out of the room hurriedly, “That guy was a creep,” Anna grumbled in annoyance, while Mike nodded his head in agreement.

[hellfirecvnt]

Hello friends, if you enjoy how I write and you also enjoy DARK fics, I have two side blogs you might enjoy!!

@dark666posting - Masterlist

@steve-faglan - Masterlist (FNAF fics only)

Can't understand why someone would read something like that? Hold your judgment, read this! ❤️

**Please read all the warnings on each story before consuming!!

[phefics]

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞. ophelia. early twenties. she/they. multi-fandom. horror enthusiast, cozy gamer, swiftie & daughter of cain. here to indulge in my slutty fictional fantasies.

𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬. do not copy or repost my fics, or feed them to ai. do not follow me if you are under 18. only send requests when i am accepting them & respect my boundaries. read my rules before sending. most importantly: be nice!!

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 | 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 | 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬: 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 (𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰)

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬. (𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐬)

baldur's gate 3. astarion; karlach; shadowheart

criminal minds. aaron hotchner; derek morgan; emily prentiss; jennifer jareau; penelope garcia; spencer reid

death note. l lawliet; light yagami; misa amane

fear street trilogy. cindy berman; deena johnson; kate schmidt; samantha fraser; simon kalivoda; ziggy berman.

five nights at freddy's. mike schmidt; steve raglan/william afton.

grey's anatomy. addison montgomery; cristina yang; george o'malley; meredith grey.

grishaverse. alina starkov. inej ghafa. jesper fahey. kaz brekker. nina zenik.

harry potter. blaise zabini; cedric diggory; draco malfoy; fred weasley; george weasley; harry potter; hermione granger; ginny weasley; luna lovegood; nymphadora tonks; theodore nott.

miscellaneous. dean winchester (supernatural); kurt kunkle (spree); luke castellan (percy jackson); riff (west side story). roman roy (succession). ryan (thanksgiving 2023). stiles stilinski (teen wolf). sweeney todd (sweeney todd).

saltburn. felix catton; oliver quick

scream. billy loomis; sidney prescott; stu macher

spider-verse. hobie brown; miguel o'hara; peter parker (tasm)

stardew valley. abigail; alex; haley; harvey; leah; maru; penny; sam; sebastian.

stranger things. chrissy cunningham; eddie munson; jim hopper; nancy wheeler; robin buckley; steve harrington.

the hunger games. coriolanus snow; finnick odair; gale hawthorne; haymitch abernathy; johanna mason; katniss everdeen; lucy gray baird; peeta mellark; sejanus plinth; tigris snow.

𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬.

yes. afab!reader. aus. biting. bondage. choking. degradation. edging. fem!reader. fluff. foot fetish. gender-neutral!reader. hickies. overstimulation. praise. scratching. sex toys. smut. spanking. threesomes. tickling.

maybe. amab!reader. angst. blood-play. “daddy” as a title. dub-con. knife-play. male!reader. parenthood. pregnancy. specific aesthetic for reader. watersports.

no. age-play (sexual or non-sexual). cheating. eating disorders. f!receiving anal. gun-play. incest/step-cest. pedophilia. rape/non-con. scat. vomit.

[wrightingwithalex]

Hello everyone!

My name is Alex, but people also call me Lex, Lexi, Lexus... Whatever at this point LMAO. I'm not new to tumblr, but I am new to posting on it. I don't really know how all of this works yet so bear with me!

Just to give you a heads-up, I'm really good at English, but it still isn't my first language, so if you see any spelling or grammar mistakes, don't mind it😭

So, I'm a writer, and my content is going to be character x reader 99% of the time. What I was thinking is that you guys send me requests for characters and scenarios you want me to write about (of course, as long as they are a character I know of) because my inspiration has been very lacking lately 💀. I will now give a list of all the characters I write for, as well as some rules for when you send asks.

By the way, if you want to remain anonymous, you can claim emoji's so that I know who you are!

I WILL WRITE:

Ace Attorney -> any character within the Phoenix Wright trilogy (Ace Attorney, Justice For All, Trials and Tribulations) 'cause those are the only games I've played so far

Sally Face -> Sal, Larry, Ash

Resident Evil -> Leon, Ada, Carlos, Ethan, Claire

Brooklyn 99 -> Jake, Amy, Rosa, Charles

Hunter x Hunter -> Kurapika

Minecraft Story Mode -> Jesse (male and female), Lukas, Petra

The Last of Us -> Ellie, Joel, Dina, Abby

Five Nights at Freddy's (movie) -> Mike, Vanessa, Steve Raglan/William Afton

Inside job -> Reagan, Brett

Arcane -> Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Mel, Victor, Sevika

Assassination Classroom –> Karma

Genshin Impact –> Albedo, Alhaitham, Arlecchino, Ayaka, Ayato, Childe, Clorinde, Cyno, Eula, Furina, Ganyu, Hu Tao, Itto, Jean, Kazuha, Keqing, Kokomi, Lyney, Mona, Navia, Neuvillette, Nilou, Raiden, Shenhe, Tighnari, Venti, Wanderer, Wriothesley, Xianyun, Yae Miko, Yelan, Yoimiya, Zhongli, Beidou, Bennett (nothing more than a kiss 'cause he's a minor), Candace, Charlotte, Fischl (nothing more than a kiss 'cause she's a minor), Gaming, Gorou, Heizou, Kaeya, Kuki Shinobu, Lisa, Lynette, Ningguang, Noelle, Rosaria, Kujou Sara, Sucrose, Thoma

mostly fem!reader and gn!reader –> female characters will be with fem!reader by default (gn!reader only if you request it), male characters are with gn!reader by default (fem!reader only if you request it)

I WILL NOT WRITE:

smut -> kissing yes, anything more than that no; I still feel awkward writing it, let alone uploading it LOL

male!reader (sorry :C)

non-con and dub-con -> I believe in consent

pregnancy trope

extreme age gap -> anything more than a 15 year age difference is a no

pedophilia

P.S. I'm a music major and it can get extremely busy sometimes so it's gonna take some time for me to write, but I don't think it should take any more than a week.

Minors can interact, since I'm not writing any smut!

That's gonna be all from me for today. I'll update this list if I get a new show/game I'm interested in, or if there's a change in the rules. I look forward to your requests, and I can't wait to start writing them! xx

[thelittleangel]

Request guidelines

Yeah, I know.

No fic.

Hello. My name is Sheep. I am 18 years old.

Please keep track of this post because some things might change every once in a while.

Request guidelines

Please do not spam with asks. I will write your fic, and I’m coming out with something new every Monday.

Do not request NSFW. I don’t feel comfortable writing that and will not do it.

I primarily do Homoromantic fiction. I do this because there’s a lot of straight fics for the characters I write and I’d like to change that.

I do well with hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, and reader-insert fics.

I do not feel comfortable writing

Crazy age gaps.

Incest

Cruel behavior

Non-con

Cheating

Real people

That being said, if you ask me to do something I’m not comfortable with, I will ignore your request.

Characters I write for

Supernatural

Cas

Dean

Sam

Gabriel

Crowley

The walking dead

Rick

Daryl

Shane

Negan

Twin peaks

Dale cooper

FNAF movie

Mike Schmidt

Steve Raglan/William Afton

If you have any questions, feel free to message me!

Requests are: open!

[steve-faglan]

Breaking and Entering

Reader x Steve Raglan/ William Afton

TW: NON CON, NON CON, NON CON!!!

Summary: You and your best friend, Mike decide to break into the old Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Restaurant to get high and explore the relics of your youth. It's all well and good until you realize you're not the only ones in the building.

PART TWO: HERE❤️

William Afton was widely known to be involved in the disappearance of several children during the years that Freddy Fazbear's Pizza was open. Because of this, he's renamed himself Steve Raglan and taken on the role of career counselor to ensure a security guard for his life's work.

Not only smart but extremely well coordinated, William navigates the halls and secret passageways of Freddy's today just as swiftly as he did in the 80's.

You'd been to Freddy's back in its glory days. You've seen the animatronics in their prime and even witnessed the tall yellow rabbit mascot that used to walk around, though he creeped you out, so you always steered clear.

Lately, college has been taking a toll on your mental state, so you decide to indulge in some good old-fashioned nostalgia in the form of "innocently" breaking and entering at Freddy's. Mostly you're just looking for a place to smoke a joint and think about anything other than your major you wish you'd switched a year ago.

"Come on, you said you'd go with me. No one's ever there, it's been closed since the fucking 80s, man," you plead with your friend Mike to join you.

"The temp agency just tried to get me to work there!"

"So then there's no security, right?!" You drive a hard bargain or maybe Mike's extremely obvious feelings for you influence all his decisions.

"Alright. I'll be over in 10. I'm putting Abby to bed." He caves and you giggle in victory before hanging up. While waiting for Mike, you roll a few joints, grab your CD player, and slide a lighter into your front pocket. The minutes drag by until you hear Mike's piece of shit car pull into your driveway. You bolt out the door and climb into the vacant passenger seat.

Mike can't help but stare at you for a minute. You're easily the most beautiful person in this town as far as he's concerned, but he can't bring himself to make a move considering his ever-complicated home life.

"Thanks for doing this, dude. School is kicking my ass." You smile at your friend, and he quickly turns away, hoping the night is concealing the blush on his cheeks.

The drive to Freddy's is short and exciting. It's been years since you've seen this place. Mike pulls into the furthest, darkest corner of the parking lot and the two of you devise a plan of entry. At the very back of the building, there are two large loading dock doors. With both you and Mike using all your strength, you get it open just enough to crawl through.

"Jesus Christ, what did I let you talk me into?" Mike coughs away the dust.

"Come on, this way!" You drag him by the arm, the blood in his face rising just from your touch. Anyone with two eyes could see how Mike felt about you, except you.

You and Mike sit on the floor, right in front of the main stage. The four, old robotic humanoid animals still occupy their spots, holding their respective instruments or props. Time has been unkind to them.

You spark up one of the joints and pass it back and forth to Mike. You each share a headphone as you stare into the tall, decrepit ceiling of the restaurant.

"You think the bathrooms here still work?" Mike asks, breaking the peaceful silence.

"Surely they do if they wanted you to work here, right?" You ponder the question further. "Maybe check the ones in the office area." You point to a door that you recall from childhood that leads to the "boring" part of Freddy's. You ended up there by accident and swore you heard screaming, so you never went back.

Mike disappears in pursuit of a restroom, leaving you by yourself on the large, open party floor. You light another joint and stare quizzically at the robots. You become lost in thought thinking about how lonely it must be here, after all this time.

"You've been waiting for an audience, haven't you?" You tilt your head. Mike's taking longer than you anticipated, so you grab the other headphone and place it in your vacant ear. The volume is loud enough for you to imagine the animatronic band playing it. For a moment, everything around you melts away. You close your eyes, reliving a carefree time in your youth.

"Y/N!!!" Mike barrels down the hall. He's sprinting around every corner, tripping and stumbling the whole way in fear and adrenaline. "GET OUT!! GET OUTSIDE!!" He screams, but you can't hear him. You can't hear a thing. Just as he's about to make physical contact with you, he's yanked backward. The large, yellow rabbit that used to freak you out drags Mike behind the kitchen doors before bludgeoning him over the head, knocking him unconscious.

"I thought you couldn't do nights, Micheal?" The rabbit man binds Mike's wrists together and drags him through the same doors as before. He securely fastens his restraints to a support beam and stands. Already a tall man, he towers in the suit. William Afton.

William slowly turns his head, looking right at you. You sit with your back to him, on the far side of the room, closest to the stage. He takes two steps before you glance behind you, wondering where your friend is. Your breath hitches in your chest when you're met with a giant bowtied rabbit. You glance behind him to see Mike's motionless body on the floor. Time's moving too fast to tell if he's alive or not, and you scream again before taking off toward the door.

The rabbit man gestures to the stage and begins to slowly stalk toward you.

"Stay the fuck away from me! What did you do to Mike?"

"I'll do a lot worse if you don't stop fucking screaming!" William's voice is robotic and warped through the automated helmet of the suit. He's inhuman to you. Your mind can't wrap your head around the fact that anyone is in the suit, let alone William Afton himself. You try to silence your wails, but you can't do anything to stop the terrified sobs. All you can do is think about Mike.

"I-Is he dead?" You whimper, in a state of shock.

"Not yet," is all the rabbit says before he advances on you, grabbing you with unnatural strength. Your arms are pinned by your sides and he lifts you off the ground with ease. Kicking and fighting does nothing but bruise you up, but you try regardless. You manage to free one arm, and in your hysteria, you knock the mascot's helmet off his head. The helmet falls with a heavy thud, but it's as if it's muted in the background as you stare at William. He stares back, unfazed by his revealed identity. It almost looks like he's smiling.

"W-W-W-"

"William," he growls before placing his steel-covered hands around your throat while you were too distracted to notice he'd sat you back down. You claw at the lifeless metal and cloth, but slowly, your vision becomes blurry, and then... Nothing.

Mike wakes before you. He recovers quickly as he realizes where he is. He searches for you frantically, but you're nowhere to be found.

"Y/N!" Mike screams, but there's no reply. He's alone in silence for a few minutes before the unmasked rabbit man appears carrying your wilted body. Mike begins to panic. "What did you do to her?!"

"Calm down, Micheal. She's just tired. She's gonna need her energy." William grins, sending a wave of nausea through Mike's stomach. "You should feel lucky, you get to watch." He steps out of the robotic suit revealing clothes similar to the ones he wore when he first met Mike, not long ago.

"Watch what?" Mike raises a brow. William doesn't reply, he just starts cutting the clothes off of your body. "What are you doing?! Don't fucking touch her!"

William laughs at him, licking the entire length of his middle finger and sliding it inside you while he stares at Mike. He continues to play with you, rendering Mike into a livid mess. William shakes his head, amused, continuing with whatever dark plan he's already hatched for the evening.

You have no idea how much time has passed, but eventually, you wake up. You groan as you try to sit up, only to find that you're bound to a tabletop in an X formation with your legs hanging off the side where your knees bend. There's a raggedy drape of cloth over your body and the dry, musty smell is enough to make you sick. You scan the room in a quiet panic, unable to move and truly study your surroundings. Quickly you spot Mike. His left eye is swollen and will surely be blacked by the time you get out of here... If you get out of here.

"Mike!" You try to yell, but it comes out as a strained wheeze after the damage William did to your throat. Mike locks eyes with you and that's when you notice how scared he looks, but not for himself. You furrow your brow and look in the other direction. There stands William. He's out of the suit now, standing over you with a devilish grin.

"Breaking and entering isn't a good look for either of you," William chuckles. "But especially you, sweetheart." William places a soft hand on your cheek. You recoil in fear.

"Don't fucking touch her!" Mike thrashes in his restraints. It's clear to you that Mike knows what's about to happen before you do.

"Please, we're sorry. We won't say anything to anyone, just let us-"

"Don't be cliche. You knew what you were doing and you did it anyway. This is someone's stuff, you know? Someone's livelihood."

"I'm sorry," you sob.

"You're gonna be," William hits the joint he commandeered from you, and after a long drag, he flicks it to the side and begins to unfasten his belt.

"No! No, no!" You plead, arching and bucking your hips in hopes of loosening the cables that secure you to the tabletop. Mike causes his wrists to bleed, but he still can't get free. William strokes his erection as he watches your helpless body writhe under the sheet. You accept your fate, horrified and humiliated, you look away, facing the stage. You quickly notice it's empty and your heart begins to race.

"They won't be joining us. This is for my- our eyes only." William releases a deep, taunting laugh and starts pumping his middle finger in and out of you again.

"M-Mike..." You try to ask for help, unsure of what he could do for you at this point, but desperate to be free. He won't even look at you now. He's slouched over, looking at the floor, trying to drown out the sensual wet sounds coming from William's fingers scissoring inside you.

"He doesn't want to save you, sweetheart. He wants to see you get fucked against your will." With his last word, he heaves the entire table closer to him, giving Mike a front-row seat to the show. Panic consumes you. Before you have the chance to beg for mercy again, William tears the unkempt sheet from your body, leaving you entirely exposed.

"No! Wait, please!" Your fight or flight response kicks in, but you're helpless to do either. The cables strain against the table, but you're unable to move an inch. You look back at Mike. He meets your gaze and the two of you share a knowing look before you feel William slide the head of his cock up and down your clit, soaking it in the arousal your body had no choice but to pool between your legs after the ways he touched you.

"You make it hard to believe you don't want it when you're dripping like this, sweetheart," William taunts. You squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassed and afraid, unable to watch the blood rise in Mike's face as he watches you get defiled. Just as you're sure William is about to slam into you with no mercy, he pulls away. You open your eyes and glance at him in confusion, hoping he's realizing he can just let you both go and that would be the end of it. But that's not the case.

William bends to knees, placing your soaked entrance right at the perfect height for him to consume you.

"Let's see how difficult I can make this for you." William buries his tongue in your wet folds, flicking the muscle delicately over your violated clit. You try as hard as you can to fight back any kind of reaction, but you fail. A soft, breathy moan slips from your lips like a note from a music box. William laughs against your sensitive skin.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry." Mike hangs his head in defeat, listening to the sounds of you succumbing to William's sensual touch.

"What are you sorry for? She loves it," William smirks before curling a finger inside you, eliciting another explicit moan from you. He regains his standing position and replaces the head of his erection at your pulsating entrance, waiting. "I've needed this. You have no idea how stressful it is to keep a place like this under wraps."

All you can think about is how stress got you here. All you wanted was a smoke session with your best friend in a cool venue, and now, here you are. You're jarred from your thoughts when William's massive erection drives into you. It's abrupt and painful, but your body gushes with arousal to make up for the stinging, pleasurable friction.

"No!" You scream. Mike fights against his restraints one more time, thrashing and sliding his body in any direction he can, but he's stuck. William throws his head back in ecstasy as he plows into you. He's fucking you like he's eating his last meal. Breathless grunts of focused pleasure fall from his chest. His rough, calculated hands find your breasts, toying delicately with your nipples.

You close your eyes and try so hard to escape the reality of the situation, but William lands a hard, heavy smack across your face, shaking you back into the moment. With a stern hand, he grabs your face and forces you to look at Mike. He's red-faced, enraged, and tired. You can't decide if you want him to look at you or not.

Mike mouths an "I'm sorry" to you, but all you can do is stare at him while William picks up his pace. Your vision is unsteady as he jostles you around.

"You've gone quiet. I think I need to fix that." He draws his hips back and in a split second, your eyes widen in fear before he slams into you at full force. A loud, moaning wail emits from you and the humiliation finally tears your gaze away from your best friend. "There she is," William smirks, steadying his thrusts yet again.

"Please... Stop..." You moan between gasps. Your orgasm is building at break-neck speed. The last thing you want is to climax around William's invasive erection, but it seems as if you have no other choice. The hitching breaths in your chest become loud, sultry moans. Your mind is too frazzled to focus on withholding any signs of enjoying him. Tears stream down your face, but you admit to yourself that you don't want him to stop.

Mike looks away for a moment, but can't help but stare at you. Your eyes flutter shut and your back arches so intensely. He watches the 'O' shape your mouth takes and imagines those same lips wrapped around him. He has to shift uncomfortably, hoping to conceal his already obvious bulge. After you've ridden out your high on William's cock, he slowly slips out of you. Taunting you.

William knowingly reaches under the table and unfastens whatever link was holding each of your extremities. Your hands instinctively find your most delicate, used areas.

"Don't touch yourself unless I say so," he snaps, taking your wrist in one of his strong, demanding hands. His riddance of contact allows your mind to clear from the climax and you're suddenly afraid again. A notorious serial killer is making you his toy.

"Let her go, you've had your..." Mike searches for the words, but he's unsure how to describe the vulgar scene before him. "Just let her go, man." He looks exhausted.

"Don't talk yourself out of a good thing, Micheal," William chuckles before shoving you to the ground in front of Mike. You land with a thud, releasing an involuntary whine of pain when you hit the hard surface. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"No! I-" Mike attempts to protest, but William cuts him off.

"Oh, please. You're not fucking her. Probably never will. Now you get to get off on the idea that it's being taken from her."

"You're a fucking monster!" Mike thrashes against his binds, protectively snapping at William like a guard dog.

"You want me to let her go?" William squats beside the two of you. You lie fucked-out and terrified, curling up next to Mike for some sort of dignity. William grabs your hair and sharply yanks you toward him. You release a high-pitched squeal and allow him to guide your head to Mike's pants zipper.

"What are you doing?" Mike shuffles uncomfortably.

"Don't make me wait," Afton snaps at you and you quickly reach a shaking hand for Mike's pants button.

"What are you doing?! Stop, let her go!" He tries to shake your hands away, noticing the waves of tears falling down your face as you already piece together what William might make you do.

"Mike, I-" you're cut off by William shoving your face into Mike's newly exposed crotch. He diligently bobs your head for you, fist still wrapped in your hair. The second you make contact with Mike's cock, he releases a deep, sensual sigh. Small moans fall out of him left and right, nothing he can do to stop them.

"Tell her to stop, Mike." William waits, but Mike is silent. You squeeze your eyes shut as more tears well up. "Tell her to stop, and I'll let you both leave right now." Silence.

"Mike?" You beg, relieving yourself from the forced fellatio. Mike doesn't look at you, he can't. William smirks and shoves your face back to work. He makes good use of your throat as you take Mike as deep as his shaft can possibly go, ignoring any protest from you.

Mike begins to pant heavily. Little whimpers escape his mouth as his orgasm builds.

"F-Fuck," he huffs before finishing down your throat. When William finally pulls you away, you're a choking, sobbing mess. Betrayal doesn't properly describe what you're feeling right now.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry, I- I don't-" Mike fumbled over his words, red-faced and breathless.

"Shut up, now. You had your turn." William lifts you from the ground with ease and throws you against the same table as before. This time, you're bent over it, presenting your ass to him like a trophy to be won. To be taken.

"Please let me go home. I want to go home..." You sob with your face pressed to the large party table. Mike's eyebrows upturn as he watches you cry. Guilt consumes him, and the helplessness of your cries only amplifies that. He's not sure why he didn't tell you to stop, he knew it was the right thing to do. But he was so enveloped in the feeling of your lips bobbing up and down his erection, how could he ever ask for it to end?

"Shhh, you're doing fine, sweetheart." Afton coos in your ear as he leans over you. He's so tall, it's nothing to him. He plays with your pussy for a moment, slipping a long, nimble finger inside you. His eyes roll back in his head as he tests how tight you are in this position. "Perfect."

William slips inside you, fucking you as if he didn't just screw you senseless not long ago. His large, calloused hand comes down hard on your right ass cheek, and a loud slap echoes through the empty restaurant. You release a cry of pain every time he lands a blow, and he does it a lot. You're fucked out, beaten, bruised, abused- everything.

"Plea-" you beg, but another HARD smack to the ass shuts you up.

"Shut up! I'm so... Fucking..." William slams into you one final time before you feel his cock twitching inside you, filling you up. "Close..."

"No!" You try to kick and fight and do anything in your power to stop him from cumming inside you, but it's entirely too late. You sob loudly as Mike watches in horror. William removes himself from you and his handiwork spills from your swollen entrance. Your weak knees wobble under your weight.

Afton looks at Mike and grins deviously before flipping you over and clasping his powerful hands around your neck. The sound of Mike pleading for your life becomes a dull mumble in the background as you slowly lose consciousness. Once you're out, William readjusts his rolled-up sleeves and lands a hard, knock-out punch on the side of Mike's skull.

He dumps you both in the back alley, unsure if you're both alive or dead. He doesn't care, he just doesn't need you here anymore.

Mike wakes up first, placing a gentle hand on his face and wincing at the pain.

"Y/N? Y/N!" He scrambles over to you and takes you in his lap. You're still naked and you're covered in bruises and scrapes, a testament to how hard you fought and how strong William is. "Please wake up. Please wake up, dude. This isn't funny."

You don't move.

"Please wake up! Wake up, Y/N! Wake up!" He repeats over and over, shaking you and lightly tapping your face with his open hand. Finally, you suck in a big breath. The sound of you inhaling causes Mike to jump, but he quickly pulls you into his embrace, relieved to see you alive.

"Mike..." You groan. He quickly sheds his jacket and wraps it around your crumpled form, hoping to give you some sort of cover. The two of you get into Mike's car and head back to your house. The ride back is mostly silent until he finally speaks.

"Y/N, I- back there, I..." He doesn't know what to say.

"I don't think he would've let us go anyway." You stare out the window in a state of shock, secretly reliving the way William made you feel.

"No- that's not the point. I mean-" Mike struggled with his words yet again.

"Do you think he let us live for a reason?" You finally glance at Mike. It's the first time you've looked at him since he filled your throat with an entire friendship's worth of pent-up feelings.

"I don't know, but it doesn't matter. We're never going back there, I promise." He's attempting to comfort you, but something depraved and demented inside you is already thinking about what he'd do if he got his hands on you again.

[steve-faglan]

Breaking and Entering pt. 2

Reader x William Afton/ Steve Raglan

TW: NON CON!! DUB CON!! NON CON!! NON CON!!

Summary: You can't stop thinking about that place. About him. You make one more foolish visit and end up in a new predicament.

PART ONE: HERE❤️

It's been weeks since you and Mike narrowly escaped the infamous William Afton. Mike doesn't talk about it, though he does find himself masturbating to the feeling of your mouth around his cock. The two of you hang out pretty regularly still, despite the horrors inflicted upon you.

You and Mike get together at a local park. It's usually empty, and today is no different. There's a small nook behind the trees on the far side of the park and that's where the two of you go to smoke. As the weather gets colder, the foliage around the woods dies down, revealing a perfect view of Freddy's. You swallow the lump in your throat when you see it and Mike quickly catches on.

"Hey, don't look at it. Let's just go back to my house." Mike tried to redirect your attention, but you continued to stare. A strange yearning builds in you that you're certain can't be what you truly want. Why would you want to go back there? You don't know, but the longing remains. You attempt to fill that craving in other ways.

"Let's go to your place." The two of you head to Mike's and he tries to softly reassure you that you're safe. Something he's had to do for you these past few weeks after the attack. He doesn't know that something in you has changed.

When you get inside, the second the door closes, you press your lips to Mike's, both hands gently holding his face.

"Is this okay?" You ask, breathlessly breaking the kiss.

"Y/N, are you sure you want this?" Mike looks shocked and concerned.

"Is this okay?" You ask again, more sternly. Mike looks into both of your eyes and finally nods before desperately reconnecting his lips to yours. In minutes the two of you are naked and fucking all over the living room. Mike is rough and desperate like he's only ever dreamt of this moment and won't let it go to waste. But it's not enough.

Mike pulls out and finishes on your ass and the two of you collapse next to each other on his couch. The room is silent aside from the unsteady, deep breaths.

"Holy shit..." Mike sighs in disbelief. You nearly fall asleep next to each other. You're not sure how to ask this, but you need to know if it's just you who can't stop thinking about that night.

"Mike."

"What?"

"Do you ever... Think about going back?" Your question confuses him so much, he doesn't even realize what you're talking about.

"Back there? No, I don't. I-I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I don't- I never think about that day. I try not to, for you." He rambles on, but you tune it out, disappointed in his answer. "Why?"

"No reason. I've just been having a lot of dreams."

"Nightmares?" Mike attempts to clarify.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Nightmares." You shrug it off. Hoping the subject gets dropped seeing as you aren't on the same page.

"Oh shit, Abby will be home soon." That's your cue to leave. Mike drives you home and it's clear he's developing feelings at a rapid rate. He bids you goodbye with a beaming smile and you do the same. Once he's gone, you go inside your house and beeline right for your bedroom.

No amount of fucking Mike or touching yourself to the memory would satiate the urge you have to let Afton has his way with you again. Your only drawback is... Would you get to live a second time? The nighttime air is crisp and chilly as winter rolls in. You stand on your porch for an entire hour before you finally get in your car and make the drive.

At first, you just sit in the parking lot. You look for another car, maybe you missed it last time. You don't see one. You begin to wonder if he's even here tonight. What a waste of this manic, dangerous behavior that would be. You eventually step out of your car and shakily approach the doors you snuck through last time.

"What the fuck am I doing?" You whisper to yourself. Something like a wave of common sense washes over you and you take a few steps away from the building. You're torn between using logic and getting the fuck out of there and the curiosity of him even still being inside. You didn't see a car, after all. You hold your breath and carefully enter the building.

Last time you were here you were careless and loud, this time your steps are as delicate as falling leaves. You hold your breath at every turn. The place is entirely silent and you don't disrupt it any further. You're carefully treading across the main area when you come across the table. You become tense as warmth pools between your legs.

You swallow the lump in your throat and quickly realize you don't want to be here. This was a mistake. You keep your eyes on the crime scene as you run away, not looking where you're going. You run into a tall, broad frame and it leaves you flat on your ass, looking up at him. William Afton. The man you came looking for and hoped you wouldn't find.

"Back already? You're filthy." He chuckles as he stands over you, basking in his power over you.

"N-No! Please I'm sorry. I- I was confused. I don't know- I don't-" You struggle endlessly with your words, raising a hand to shield yourself as you remain on the ground.

"Stand up." His demand confuses you. He's calm and quiet, it's unsettling.

"W-What?"

"Stand. Up." He speaks sternly. Impatient. You do as you're told and scramble to your feet. William places a controlling hand at the nape of your neck, guiding you like a dog on a leash. You're too scared to speak, protest, or even cry. This is it, you think.

"I- I'm sorry," you sob, but he only rolls his eyes.

"Why'd you come here?" He asks, coldly.

"I don't know! I couldn't-" he cuts you off.

"I meant the first time. Why'd you come here?" William seems to lean into your ear when he speaks, sending chills down your spine.

"I- we came here as kids," you say, hoping your nostalgic ties could earn you mercy.

"You and Micheal?"

"Yes. I just wanted to relive it for a while. I'm sorry," your story dissolves to pleas.

"That's adorable." His voice is cold and evil and the two of you disappear into a dark corridor.

Back at his house, Mike calls your landline several times. A little tied up at the moment, you're unable to answer. He recalls your troublesome questioning earlier and decides you need to be checked on. After all, in his mind, you're already his now. Mike pokes his head into Abby's room and sees she's sound asleep so he makes the drive to your house.

"Y/N?" He calls, careful not to be too loud outside your home at night. He knocks for a little while longer and even looks through your bedroom window. Nothing. He climbs back into his car to return home, not wanting to leave Abby alone for too long.

On the way he passed that damned restaurant and at the last second spots your car in the furthest corner of the lot. His stomach drops. He doesn't know how, but he's certain William lured you back there to finish the job. He squeals the tires as he whips the car into the lot and haphazardly parks before clamoring inside through the shifty entrance.

"Have a seat." William gestures to a chair similar to a dentist's chair. It has restraints and looks like it's meant to take different positions. You swallow the lump in your throat.

"P-Please. I know coming back was stupid." You shake your head and try to back away from the threatening furniture, but his hand holds you in place. His grip grows tighter and he pushes you toward the chair. Fight-or-flight takes over and you begin to fight back. You swing at him and scream for help as loud as your lungs will let you. The sound rips through your throat and burns as you pray someone hears you.

"Y/N?!" Mike calls out, having heard your screams echo through the building. "Where are you?! I'm here!" He runs up and down the many passages and doorways of Freddy's, feeling more hopeless by the second.

William successfully fastens you into the chair and steps back to admire your helpless form. He's breathless from the struggle. Pushing his hair back into its coiffed position, he licks the blood off his lip from your resistance.

"You're unbelievable. Coming back for more and acting so ungrateful. Don't think it's not perfectly obvious why you've come back," William taunts. He circles you like a shark in dark waters. He reclines the mechanism and begins to carefully remove your clothes. He's oddly gentle compared to the way he cut your clothes off last time. He unfastens each restraint one at a time until you're exposed before him in nothing but your panties.

William starts to gingerly massage your breasts, his mouth hangs slightly open in an expression that asks "What's next?" Your face becomes red and you can't help but look away from him, squeezing your eyes shut and begging your body to stop rewarding him. Your nipples harden for him and your lace panties become soaked with your arousal.

"You must've worn there for me," William gushes as his hand finally travels down to your waist. Goosebumps ignite on your skin and it's everything you can do to stop yourself from moaning. He's teasing you. He slips his fingers inside you and you lose the battle, releasing a loud, desperate moan as he curls his knuckles inside you. He's older, and more experienced. It's as if he knows your body better than you do.

He fingers you until you've given up on holding back and you're just a writhing, moaning mess in front of him.

"Shh, shh..." He whispers as he knowingly guides you to your climax.

"William-" you start to protest, but it just comes out as you moaning his name. Just as he brings you to your limit, he removes his hand entirely. Something he seems to love to do. "No!"

"Filthy little thing. Look at you," he ridicules you as he licks your arousal off his fingers. He adjusts the chair again and you're left with your legs spread for him. He takes his position, waist high to your aching entrance. "You knew what you wanted when you came back. I'm going to give it to you." William unfastens his belt and releases his throbbing cock. It seems even bigger this time. Likes he's been teasing himself this whole time. His breath shudders as he slips the tip up and down in the wetness of your clit.

"I-" you stutter.

"What is it, puppet?" He roughly runs his hands up and down your thighs, awaiting your next line of resistance. The pet name makes you feel disgusting and your face reddens.

"I don't know if-"

"You don't know if you can take it?" He asks but gives you no time to respond before he's slammed completely inside of you. He releases a loud guttural moan as your cries cause you to flex around his erection. "You're gonna fucking take it."

He thrusts into you repeatedly, stretching you out and stimulating you beyond pleasure. Your screams and moans carry throughout the hallways and Mike follows the sound.

"Looks like we have a visitor," William laughs, continuing to fuck you as he watches Mike scramble around through the security monitors. "He's getting warmer."

"Let her go!" Mike finally reaches the security office door and watches in horror as he bangs on the window. His screams are muffled, but William can still hear enough to laugh at him.

"Come take a turn, Micheal. Listen to her," he begins to toy with your clit while he's thrusting in and out of you. You want to hold back so badly, but it's not an option. You release screams of pleasure. Mike didn't even know you could make sounds like that. So degenerate and needy. It's almost distracting. Finally, he busts through the door, sustaining some damage from using his body as a battering ram.

"Let her go. Now." Mike is a new kind of angry. Protective. William tilts his head as he slowly slips out of you and fastens his slacks. You're left whimpering and exhausted.

"Here, Micheal. Have a go. Tell me how tight she is." He holds out a hand to you like he's offering a friend a tray of cigars. "Don't tell me, you two already fucked, right?" William laughs. "Was it anything like what she needed from me? Are you capable of that?" William's words set off a rage inside of Mike. He charges at the tall, broad, older man, but he's quickly and easily tossed aside. William grabs Mike by the shirt and pins him against the wall.

"Don't be stupid. She's alive because I'm using her. I don't have that much reason to keep you around." He drops the short, protective man and turns to face you where you lie half-conscious on the table.

"Just leave us alone. What more could you want?" Mike sighs, defeated.

"Oh, plenty. Unfortunately for you, it's not enough just to fuck your friend. I want the suffering." He unfastens your restraints. "I want the shame." William wraps a hand in your hair and all but throws you onto the floor. You collapse on the floor with a cry of pain and Mike runs to your aid.

"Hey, hey. I'm here, okay? I'm here," Mike frantically tries to comfort you.

"Micheal, you're really disappointing. You have to know the only reason she gave it up was to relive what I did to her," William laughs. Truly amused to be so powerful over the two of you.

"Shut your fucking mouth. Don't talk about what you did to her!" Mike holds you to him protectively, but he seems to freeze up when William comes to collect you. He stands you up on all fours, holding your head by your hair, forcing his length down your sore throat right in front of where Mike remains on the ground behind you. He's frozen as he watches you put up no fight. Your swollen hole is perfectly presented to him and he can see it becoming wetter by the second.

"Y/N..." Mike mumbles your name as he watches. He's unsure if he's heartbroken, scared, or aroused.

"I'm not always going to share her, Micheal." William's manipulative words wrap around Mike like strings on a puppet. Like it's the last time he'll ever feel your skin again, he digs his fingers into your hips and pulls you against him, grinding against your throbbing cunt. Finally, no holds barred, he shuffles his pants down and roughly slams into you. It's as if William's influence was inescapable inside the walls of the restaurant, and Mike couldn't stop his darkest urges.

You moan against William's dick as he manually bobs your head with his fist full of your hair.

"All you're good for is getting fucked. Even your 'best friend' thinks so." William laughs as tears streak down your face. You're jostled back and forth as each man shoves themselves deeper and deeper inside of you. Afton finishes first, filling your mouth and throat with warmth as Mike takes over. He plows into you, quickening his off-beat thrusts as he reaches his peak.

"M-M-" Mike assumes you're trying to say his name. Ask him to stop. Lust has completely taken him over and he gently shushes you between hard thrusts. To his, and William's surprise, you finish your sentence. "More."

With a devilish smirk, William shoves Mike out of the way. He pulls out just as he finishes, covering you in his cum as he sits back, reeling from the orgasm. William takes over, effortlessly spinning you around to take advantage of your battered pussy. He lies you on your back and lifts your pelvis to meet his. He hesitates for a moment to look at you. Your demeanor has been completely shifted. The fear and struggle were replaced with an out-of-character neediness.

"Please!" You wail, arching your back and begging to be fucked. He chuckles as he uses one hand to guide himself inside you. You gasp as he slips past your lips. He has more girth than Mike, and seems to hit something inside you Mike just can't. You release a continuous stream of degenerate moans as he drills you. He laughs over your wails as he picks up his pace, chasing his second climax. Mike can only stare at the two of you. The way you unfold for him and how rough he is with you. He's jealous but frozen watching you cum harder than he thought possible.

William finishes inside you just as he did last time, claiming you. Mike doesn't get that power. You scream as you flood William and his well-pressed slacks and he fucks you through your high. Once he's finally done, he leaves you on the floor, too weak to move. He's so swift with fastening his pants and belt, that Mike barely realizes what's happening until Afton lands a devastating blow to his temple, knocking him unconscious.

You weakly lift your head, slowly coming to and the orgasm and lust clear from your mind.

"Mike!" You exclaim, but it's nearly silent as your throat has been used so roughly.

"Shh..." He whispers and he kneels over you next. His two strong, calculated hands reach your neck and begin to squeeze. Your eyes widen. This is it, you're certain. Tears stream down your cheeks as you look into his eyes, watching as he turns blurry and eventually fades to black.

Hours pass, days, who knows how long? Mike wakes up in the same dark alley as before. He searches for you frantically, but you're nowhere to be found.

"No, no, no, no..." Mike bangs on the doors, screaming your name to no reply. He quickly notices your car is missing and he hopes that you just left him there and went home. He deserves it and worse, after all. He stumbles to his car and drives to your place.

"Y/N," William tauntingly calls your name as he watches you come to. You realize it's the first time you've heard him say your name and you hate the way it makes your clit throb. You squeeze your eyes shut and open them again to see him standing in front of you. "I think I like you. You may feel like a prisoner for a while. But let's see what freedoms you can earn, okay?" You rise from your spot and notice you're in a room that looks almost like an incredibly tiny apartment. Like a pet cage for a human.

"Wait, what? What are-" he cuts you off as he steps out the door.

"You'll be here for a while." The door closes and you're left alone in the plain, beige room. To be used, whenever.

[steve-faglan]

Seek and Find (Pt. 2)

Reader x Steve Raglan (William Afton)

TW: NON CON // DUB CON!!!! (But this one is mostly non con)

Summary: You can't stop thinking about him since your last meeting and fate finds a way to place you right in front of him again.

[Read part 1 here]

Steve takes you over and over until the sun begins to peak over the horizon. When he finally leaves, you pass out from exhaustion. When you wake up, you can finally move your body, though you're still very weak. A soreness you've never felt before tears through your body as you attempt to sit up. You groan in angry ache, rising to your feet and making your way to the bathroom. After a warm bath in silence, you hobble into your living room.

You wince when you see the two wine glasses. One-half empty and the other untouched. The sight of the light liquid inside reminds you of the way his cologne smelled as he carried your motionless body to your bedroom. Like you were nothing.

To your dismay, you feel the arousal pooling in your underwear and a heat building in your stomach. What's wrong with me? You wonder. Suddenly, you remember the men who had ghosted you. How did Steve know about them? And how was he using their phone numbers to communicate with you? Your mind races too much to continue dissecting the mystery, all you can think about is Steve. He's nameless to you, but the memory of his tongue inside of you is enough to have you yearning.

You slip a hand into your panties and gently play with your sore, used clit. You have to be careful after the way Steve left you, but you can't resist it. He's done something to your mind. You never want to see him again, but he's consuming your every thought. You're seconds away from climaxing, your shameless moans grow louder by the minute. A sharp knock at the door tears you from your pleasure, edging you.

You're certain it's Steve. Or maybe... You hope that it's Steve. As long as he's forcing himself on you, you don't have to face the shame of how badly you want it. Your heart begins to race and you hesitate before finally opening the door. It's a delivery man, dropping off a package you'd ordered a few weeks ago. Your shoulders fall in disappointment and you thank the driver before closing your door. You toss the package to the side and forget about it. It's just another gadget for the house. Something superfluous that you didn't need.

The weeks drone on and the memory and desperate craving for Steve seems to subside, though you can't help but still feel watched at every turn. You barely leave your house and the paid internship you started this year and soon coming to an end with no promise that your employers want to keep you. When the day finally comes, the news is enough to break your spirit.

"We're looking for someone a little less distracted," your former boss explains.

"I'm... Distracted?" You blink in disbelief.

"It just seems that lately, you've been meeting deadlines later and later."

"But I am meeting them, am I not?" You want to raise your voice, but you realize there's no point. "Okay. Thank you for the opportunity." You stand to leave and the woman wishes you well. You give her an understanding smile and head out the door. Now, you're just angry. At everything. At yourself, your old job, and especially Steve. He's the cause of your downfall in more ways than one. Even while he's not touching you, he's still violating you. Taking from you everything you have.

You take a day to be angry and resentful, and then you set up a meeting with a local temp agency. The woman on the phone says they have the best career counselors around, so you feel a sense of relief when you wake up to get ready for the day. Feeling less than yourself, and a bit rejected, you spend a little extra time on your makeup this morning.

Your large, doll eyes are highlighted with light eyeshadow and a courteous layer of mascara. You finish off the rest and get dressed in your best professional clothes. You're nervous, but hopeful after the phone call you had yesterday. After you arrive at the temp agency building and check-in, you sit in a waiting area. One other temp sits in a chair across the room and reads a magazine.

"Micheal, Mr. Raglan will see you now," the kind older lady behind the desk calls to the other temp. You are now alone in the warmly lit waiting area. You scan the room a few times, occasionally checking your phone until the same woman's voice pipes up again.

"You can head back, now, sweetie." The woman smiles at you and you return the sentiment. You walk confidently down the hall, passing Micheal on his way out. He looks disappointed. As you step into the room a familiar scent fills your senses, but you can't pinpoint it. The career counselor is placing a file into the filing cabinet behind his desk, his back faces you.

You're standing in the doorway, carefully inching forward as you wait for him to turn around. The chair creaks when it swivels around. You're looking down at your shirt, flattening the fabric to be more presentable when you hear the man start to chuckle. You look up to see Steve. Whose name you're only just now learning when you glance at his nameplate. Your mouth hangs open in silent shock.

Steve continues to laugh before releasing an amused sigh and leaning forward on his desk. He looks pleasantly surprised and all too happy to see you. Like he's relieved.

"Guess you found me," he jokes, tilting his head to the side. You try to find a word, any word, but nothing comes out. You take a step backward. "Absolutely not. Have a seat." It's as if he knows the power his words will have over you. You do as he says and shakily take a seat in one of the chairs sitting in front of his desk.

"I- I-" you desperately search for the sentence, but he doesn't have time.

"Impressive detective work." Steve smiles slyly and leans back in his leather desk chair.

"I wasn't... I wasn't looking for you."

"Are you sure? You look like you got dressed up for me." He teases, causing you to blush and pull the low collar of your shirt up to cover yourself more. "Wow. Lucky me." He sighs as he folds his hands together and rests his chin on them, staring at you like he's admiring artwork. "So you need a job, huh?"

"I think I better go." Your voice trembles.

"Don't be ridiculous. Only an idiot can't distinguish business and pleasure." His lips curl into a devious grin, deepening the dimples on his cheeks. "You know, I think I have the perfect job for you, Y/N."

"Please, Steve. I-"

"Oh, no, sweetheart. It's Mr. Raglan when you need me to do you a favor." He tilts his head mockingly.

"M-Mr. Raglan. I can just go somewhere else, it's fine."

"Where? This is the only employment office in town and every surrounding town sends their lost causes to us. Where do you think you stand right now?" Normally you'd think more highly of yourself, but after being let go and everything with Steve, you're having a hard time with self-worth.

"Okay, right."

"Now, the job I have in mind for you is easy. The hours are so-so, but I think you'd learn to like it. You interested?"

"What is it?" You swallow the lump in your throat, unsure you want to know the answer.

"I run a little side operation outside of the temp agency. I'd love an extra pair of hands." Steve's demeanor is so different than the night he spent in your home, using your holes freely as if you were merely a doll meant for pleasure. He awaits her answer with a flat expression.

"You... You want my help? After what you did to me?"

"Sweetheart, to me, it looks like you need my help. I'm just offering you a job. I didn't do anything you're not still touching yourself over." He licks his lips, exposing his knowledge of your pastime. Your face flushes and you can no longer look him in the face.

"I- I-"

"You're a depraved slut, Y/N. Do you want the job or not?" His patience is running out. You cower at the idea of upsetting him so your answer falls out without thought.

"I'll do it." Your words catch him off guard, but a pleased smile invades his face when he realizes what you've agreed to.

"Good girl," his words send tingles down your spine. "You start tomorrow, 9 AM, sharp."

"Tomorrow?" You furrow your brow, overwhelmed by the rushed nature of the offer.

"Yes, tomorrow. At this address." He slides a post-it note across the desk and you take it in your hand. The address doesn't look familiar. "I'll see you then. Don't be late." Steve turns his attention to the paperwork on his desk as if he's bored with your presence already. Still in shock, you rise from your seat and exit the building. When you get in your car, you look at the post-it note again. What just happened?

The next morning, you wake up early to get ready for your new job. Steve didn't specify what kind of work it is, so you try to dress business casual. When you arrive at the address, it's nothing more than a run-down restaurant. You already feel terrified to be here, but with how much Steve knows about you, you don't know what he'd do if you upset him or turned him down.

Nervous and overdressed, you approach the front door. The two thick barred doors that are meant to protect it from intruders are open today, but you're still unsure if you should go in. The place looks liable to collapse at any minute.

Finally, Steve comes to the door.

"Y/N, you're late." He frowns.

"I was here on time, I've been waiting." You protest.

"You don't know how to use a door? That's strike one. Let's try to do better." He disappears into the doors and you quickly trail behind him with a look of disdain. "You know, Y/N. You're not very bright, following me to a secluded location after I ruined you."

You wince at his choice of words. The description makes you feel worthless. Maybe that's why you find yourself so willing to be around him. You still never learned what happened to those other men.

"I need a job. I can't lose my house..." You look down, embarrassed to be so desperate.

"Then you should try being on time." Steve leads you to a room full of disassembled animatronics. "This is where we will be working very closely." His emphasis on "very" makes your skin crawl.

"I don't know anything about robots, sir."

"Good thing I'd rather die than have you messing with my life's work then, huh?" He snaps. "Your job is to keep the area clean. It has a way of becoming a disaster even when we're not here."

"Oh, okay. Yes, sir." You begin picking up the shredded bits of metal and faux fur. Steve watches intently, mostly objectifying you, undressing you with his eyes. Something about being in charge of you. Having you here serving him even after his night with you. It drives him crazy.

Your fight-or-flight senses are going off all day. Everything in your body is telling you not to be here. Not to be near Steve. You try your best to ignore it until you hear a dripping sound.

Tap, tap, tap.

Something viscous is slapping against the floor over and over at an almost steady pace. You follow the sound of the dripping out of the room you're meant to keep clean and down a short hallway. You glance into one room and see a sleeping security guard. He looks like Mike from the employment office. You decide to let him be and continue to search for the leaky pipe.

The dripping grows louder as you approach and you think you can spot it in the back of a janitor's closet. The light is blown so you retrieve your cell and turn on the flashlight. As you approach you notice the dripping water is much darker than expected. It's... Red? Your pulse feels like it halts when you prod it with your finger and realize it's a dark crimson syrupy substance. Blood.

You follow the drops to their source and it seems to be a discarded mascot of the diner. You tug on the chest place out of curiosity and it seems to fall right off. You release an intense, guttural scream of pure fear when you recognize the mangled, crumpled body stuffed into the sharp inner workings of the mascot.

You continue to wail as you run out of the closet and straight toward the back door.

"Y/N!" Steve calls after you with a loud, stern, angry voice. You've never heard anyone so livid. It's as if for the first time since he saw you he wasn't already aware of your next move. You run until your legs feel like they've caught fire. You reach the back door and quickly learn it's locked and warped shut with age. Mike pokes his head out of the security office confused and half asleep. As Steve passes by, he demands Mike return to his duties and slams the office door shut.

"You need to come back here right now, Y/N!" He calls, menacingly. You're certain you know too much now. He could get away with forcing you into sexual ecstasy, but there's no way he'd keep you silent about murder. If he catches you, you're done for.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" You scream as you slam your entire body weight against the metal double doors. Finally, with one last heave, you fly through the exit. The hard thud of you hitting the bare ground knocks the wind out of your lungs. You're temporarily stunned as you gasp for air that won't fill your chest no matter how hard you try. Steve is dangerously close now. You force yourself to your feet and bolt into the woods surrounding Freddy's. You barely make it 10 feet before Steve wraps a strong fist in your flowing hair.

You scream again as you're yanked backward by the head. Steve pulls you into him. You can feel the heavy breathing of his chest pressed against your back. One hand holds one of your arms back while his other arm is wrapped painfully around your neck, cutting off your air supply.

"What the fuck, Y/N?" Steve hisses in your ear.

"Let me go! You're fucking insane, let me go!" You fight and squirm, but nothing works. Nothing frees you from this torment.

"Stay where the fuck I tell you to stay and you won't see things you aren't supposed to see!"

"You-" you try to continue hurling insults at him, but you're choking out at this point. Your knees go weak as you teeter on the cusp of consciousness. Steve throws you on the ground. You land hard on the dirt and debris of the forest, scraping up your face and arms. He's quick to climb on top of you, pressing his pelvis against your ass to pin you down. It's hard not to notice the growing bulge he's grinding against you.

"Steve, please!" You beg and all he does is laugh at your pathetic pleas.

"Shut up!" He slams your face into the leaves and dirt while his other hand starts working on his pants. He quickly shoots a hand up your skirt and excuses your panties to the side before painfully forcing himself inside you. Once he's started thrusting into you at an impossible pace, he takes both of your arms behind your back, rendering you helpless. "Look at you, look at who you belong to."

"No!" You try to kick him away, but his broad frame is too strong. You grow weaker and more tired by the minute. The fear and lack of prep for sex this rough causes a sharp pain that only accelerates the growth of your orgasm. Tears fall down your face causing nature to cling to your cheeks.

Mike can see all of this happening from the outside security cameras, but the office door won't budge after Steve slams it. Mike does everything he can, not giving up, but certainly not succeeding either.

"You're mine, Y/N. Look at what I can do to you any time I want. I know where you live. I watch you sleep." Steve rambles on between thrusts as his anger and climax begin to build.

"Hey! Get off of her!" Mike yells from the office, trying to distract or deter or anything that might help you, but he can't be heard from so far away.

"Say it. Say you're mine," Steve huffs as he holds back his climax.

"No!" You sob, fighting yours just as hard.

"Say it or you'll be the next body I crush in the fucking suit, Y/N." He grits his teeth, rutting into you like he has no control over it.

"I- I'm... Yours. I'm yours," you sob in defeat and Steve releases inside of you. His breathing is heavy in your ear as you feel his cock twitch inside you. Steve slides out of your dripping, overfilled pussy and stands to fasten his belt.

"That's strike two, Y/N. Don't make me regret hiring you. Get the fuck back inside." You shakily do as he says. Your weak legs irritate your abused hole with each hobbling step. As you pass by the security office door, Mike stares at you in horror. The debris still covers your face and body. There are scratches and scrapes all over you. You look like you've seen a ghost, but Steve... Steve is fine. Mike can't look away until you're completely out of his field of view.

Back in Steve's workspace, you stare at the wall. A thousand-yard stare. Steve sits back and admires his handiwork. Though you're in a state of shock, he considers you fucked into submission. He's not entirely wrong. You feel a tear drip from your chin.

"Don't be so dramatic. I'm not paying you just to sit there," Steve says, mostly as some sort of inside joke meant just for him, but you attempt to work anyway. You begin to organize the papers on the long work desk when you notice a series of sketches for a new animatronic that seems to resemble you. The dates go back much further than when you first met Steve. How long has he been watching me? You wonder. Your stomach drops as you imagine the mangled state of your own body to be crammed into a robot of this stature.

"Don't go running off again, Y/N. I'll always catch you." He wraps his arms around you from behind, placing his chin on your shoulder. You swallow the lump in your throat before organizing the concept sketches into a folder and placing them in their proper filing cabinet.

All you can do now is hope so badly that he'll never need them.

[steve-faglan]

New Position

Steve Raglan x Y/N

TW: NON CON, DUB CON

Summary: You've been trying to get your boss's attention, but the results are a little too strong.

You've worked for Steve for a long time, now. He's made sure to take note of your lacking social life as well as the absence of any of you family in the area. Alone. You don't mind, of course. He just thinks it makes it easier.

"Good morning, Mr. Raglan." You float by his office, taking your seat at your seat right outside his door.

"Y/N, could you come here for a minute?" He's often a sarcastic man. The tone he's using renders you unable to decide if he's about to give you a hard time, or if you've really done something wrong this time. Either way, you dread crossing that threshold.

"Yes, sir?" You smile, hopeful that it's just another day of mischief from your bored boss.

"Sit down." He commands, coldly.

"Sir, have I done some-" you ignore his demand in hopes for an explanation, but he cuts you off.

"Sit. Down." He stands at his desk and watches you scurry like a scared mouse to sit down in front of him. "You've worked here for a while, Y/N." His tone is still impossible to read.

"Uh, a-about a year, now." You try to remind him how long you've been an asset. You can't afford to lose your job right now.

"A year? Incredible." Oh, he's teasing you again. He slowly steps from behind his desk, directly in front of you. Propped up by his arms, he leans his back against the wooden surface. His rolled up, dress shirt sleeves expose his broad arms. You suddenly feel a heat rise in your face. Steve notices right away and continues to look down at you as if you're being served to him on a silver platter.

"Have I- Have I done something, sir?" Your blushing on top of the way your worried voice calls him "sir" is enough of a go-ahead for him. He's never been a good guy.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N..." Steve groans as his head falls back. One of his hands can't help but find the bulge in his slacks. You're equally as frightened as you are aroused. It was jarring to walk into this predicament, but you want to keep watching him, you can't look away. "Alright, on your knees." He breathes, roughly pulling you from your chair.

"Mr. Raglan, I don't think this is appropriate." You're getting angry. As scandalous as it all is, you usually prefer a say in these matters. He rolls his eyes and unfastens his pants, exposing his throbbing erection, just inches from your face. "Sir!"

"You know what you're doing when you talk like that, you whore." Steve smirks as he takes a handful of your hair and lines your mouth up with the tip of his dick.

"Mr. R-" you try to protest, you try to push him away, but he's stronger than you'd expected. Your words are cut off when he shoves himself all the way down your throat. Breathy moans escape his lips as he uses your hair to guide your face up and down his shaft. Your eyes fill with tears from choking, but he just smiles when he sees the mascara run down your face.

"A whole year of watching you parade around in those little outfits. That must've been for me, right?" He can't help but tease you, even now. You squeeze your eyes shut from embarrassment. He was right. You did dress up for Steve, hoping to get a raise or maybe a playful office romance. Possibly a few extra-curricular hook ups, but not this. Though you squirm beneath him, you're unsure if you really want him to stop at all.

He finally frees your mouth from the hard labor, but he's far from finished with you.

"Stand up." His demands lack any kind of inflection. You do as he says, too scared to disobey. Unsure how far he's willing to go. He smirks as he notices your fear. "You're right to be afraid, Y/N." He laughs at his remark as you stand frozen.

"S-Sir, please..." You whisper, desperate to get out of this room.

"Please what? You don't want me to stop. Get on my desk." Without giving you time to protest or obey, he closes in on you and lifts your legs around his broad waist. You can feel his exposed erection pressing against your clothed cunt. It's enough to send your eyes rolling back in your head. Steve laughs at you. "So fucking easy."

He sits you on his desk with your legs spread wide for him. Your skirt is far up your waist, giving him a perfect view of your soaked panties.

"Jesus, Y/N. I would've thought you'd need at least a little convincing." You can't help but hide your face. You're ashamed of the way your body is betraying you right now, but GOD, you just want him to take you.

With whatever sense you have left in you, you weakly try to push him away, but he quickly excuses your panties to the side and makes his entrance. A lightning bolt of pain shoots through your body, but it's quickly followed by the most intense pleasure you've ever felt in your life.

As Steve thrusts into you on his desk, you can't help but wrap your arms around him, clawing into his back to bring him closer to you. You whimper and grind against him every time he stops. He brings his thrusts to a halt just to watch you writhe for the feeling.

"You could've just asked me, Y/N. I'd fuck a little whore like you any time," he teases as if you initiated this assault.

"I-I don't want this..."

"Oh, you don't?" Steve stops again, slowly beginning to pull out of you.

"Wait!" You clench around him, desperate to finish after coming this far.

"That's what I thought. Now shut the fuck up." He slams a hand over your mouth and wraps another arm around your back, latching his hand on your shoulder for leverage. His thrusts stop being long and deep, and he becomes rough and primal. It hurts and the feeling of orgasm comes over you so quickly, you become overwhelmed with pleasure.

You writhe and kick, doing everything in your power to free yourself from the stimulation.

"Fuck, fuck," Steve huffs into your neck as he approaches his climax. Tears stream down your face as you twitch and squirm from the prolonged friction.

"Steve!!!" You scream, finally letting go all over Steve and the desk and the floor. The flood of your pleasure further validating Steve's actions in his mind.

You lie flat on his desk, breathless, with your legs hanging off the side. You're too tired and fucked out to care that your entire pussy is on display for him. He's sitting in the chair you started in, equally breathless, staring hungrily at your exposed, swollen entrance.

"Get up." His cold, emotionless demeanor returns. "get yourself sorted and go home." You check the clock and work technically ended 30 minutes ago. You weakly stand, still unsure of how you feel after everything. You're too confused to question anything, so you fix yourself and head for his office door.

"Y/N?" Steve calls to you.

"Y-Yes, sir?"

"It's still 'Mr. Raglan' even when I'm making you cum." He smirks. You find yourself blushing all over again, picking up your pace as you head out the door. You make it to the parking lot and in your car to go home. Steve stays behind, already planning your next meeting.

He's been needing a new toy.

[steve-faglan]

Steve-Faglan Masterlist

Started: 5/13/24

Total Works: 6

I only write about William Afton/Steve Raglan and other Matthew Lillard characters. THESE ARE ALL DARK FICS. READ ALL WARNINGS!!******* Don't understand why people read stories like this? Click here.

New Position (Steve/William x Fem!Reader) NON CON!! You've been trying to get your boss's attention, but the results are a little too strong.

Seek and Find Pt. 1 (Steve/William x Fem!Reader) NON CON/ DUB CON!! After Steve spots you jogging by his office one day, his obsessive personality takes over and he'll do whatever he can to get to you.

Seek and Find Pt. 2 (Steve/William x Fem!Reader) NON CON!! You can't stop thinking about him since your last meeting and fate finds a way to place you right in front of him again.

Breaking and Entering Pt. 1 (William x Fem!Reader) NON CON!! You and your best friend, Mike decide to break into the old Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Restaurant to get high and explore the relics of your youth. It's all well and good until you realize you're not the only ones in the building.

Breaking and Entering Pt. 2 (William x Fem!Reader) NON CON/ DUB CON!! You can't stop thinking about that place. About him. You make one more foolish visit and end up in a new predicament.

Cat // Mouse (Steve/William x Fem!Reader) NON CON/ DUB CON!! You get a job working for an old man you want to fuck. Are you misreading things? Where did that vibrator come from?

[megangovier]

oof @steve-faglan

Breaking and Entering pt. 2

Reader x William Afton/ Steve Raglan

TW: NON CON!! DUB CON!! NON CON!! NON CON!!

Summary: You can't stop thinking about that place. About him. You make one more foolish visit and end up in a new predicament.

It's been weeks since you and Mike narrowly escaped the infamous William Afton. Mike doesn't talk about it, though he does find himself masturbating to the feeling of your mouth around his cock. The two of you hang out pretty regularly still, despite the horrors inflicted upon you.

You and Mike get together at a local park. It's usually empty, and today is no different. There's a small nook behind the trees on the far side of the park and that's where the two of you go to smoke. As the weather gets colder, the foliage around the woods dies down, revealing a perfect view of Freddy's. You swallow the lump in your throat when you see it and Mike quickly catches on.

"Hey, don't look at it. Let's just go back to my house." Mike tried to redirect your attention, but you continued to stare. A strange yearning builds in you that you're certain can't be what you truly want. Why would you want to go back there? You don't know, but the longing remains. You attempt to fill that craving in other ways.

"Let's go to your place." The two of you head to Mike's and he tries to softly reassure you that you're safe. Something he's had to do for you these past few weeks after the attack. He doesn't know that something in you has changed.

When you get inside, the second the door closes, you press your lips to Mike's, both hands gently holding his face.

"Is this okay?" You ask, breathlessly breaking the kiss.

"Y/N, are you sure you want this?" Mike looks shocked and concerned.

"Is this okay?" You ask again, more sternly. Mike looks into both of your eyes and finally nods before desperately reconnecting his lips to yours. In minutes the two of you are naked and fucking all over the living room. Mike is rough and desperate like he's only ever dreamt of this moment and won't let it go to waste. But it's not enough.

Mike pulls out and finishes on your ass and the two of you collapse next to each other on his couch. The room is silent aside from the unsteady, deep breaths.

"Holy shit..." Mike sighs in disbelief. You nearly fall asleep next to each other. You're not sure how to ask this, but you need to know if it's just you who can't stop thinking about that night.

"Mike."

"What?"

"Do you ever... Think about going back?" Your question confuses him so much, he doesn't even realize what you're talking about.

"Back there? No, I don't. I-I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I don't- I never think about that day. I try not to, for you." He rambles on, but you tune it out, disappointed in his answer. "Why?"

"No reason. I've just been having a lot of dreams."

"Nightmares?" Mike attempts to clarify.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Nightmares." You shrug it off. Hoping the subject gets dropped seeing as you aren't on the same page.

"Oh shit, Abby will be home soon." That's your cue to leave. Mike drives you home and it's clear he's developing feelings at a rapid rate. He bids you goodbye with a beaming smile and you do the same. Once he's gone, you go inside your house and beeline right for your bedroom.

No amount of fucking Mike or touching yourself to the memory would satiate the urge you have to let Afton has his way with you again. Your only drawback is... Would you get to live a second time? The nighttime air is crisp and chilly as winter rolls in. You stand on your porch for an entire hour before you finally get in your car and make the drive.

At first, you just sit in the parking lot. You look for another car, maybe you missed it last time. You don't see one. You begin to wonder if he's even here tonight. What a waste of this manic, dangerous behavior that would be. You eventually step out of your car and shakily approach the doors you snuck through last time.

"What the fuck am I doing?" You whisper to yourself. Something like a wave of common sense washes over you and you take a few steps away from the building. You're torn between using logic and getting the fuck out of there and the curiosity of him even still being inside. You didn't see a car, after all. You hold your breath and carefully enter the building.

Last time you were here you were careless and loud, this time your steps are as delicate as falling leaves. You hold your breath at every turn. The place is entirely silent and you don't disrupt it any further. You're carefully treading across the main area when you come across the table. You become tense as warmth pools between your legs.

You swallow the lump in your throat and quickly realize you don't want to be here. This was a mistake. You keep your eyes on the crime scene as you run away, not looking where you're going. You run into a tall, broad frame and it leaves you flat on your ass, looking up at him. William Afton. The man you came looking for and hoped you wouldn't find.

"Back already? You're filthy." He chuckles as he stands over you, basking in his power over you.

"N-No! Please I'm sorry. I- I was confused. I don't know- I don't-" You struggle endlessly with your words, raising a hand to shield yourself as you remain on the ground.

"Stand up." His demand confuses you. He's calm and quiet, it's unsettling.

"W-What?"

"Stand. Up." He speaks sternly. Impatient. You do as you're told and scramble to your feet. William places a controlling hand at the nape of your neck, guiding you like a dog on a leash. You're too scared to speak, protest, or even cry. This is it, you think.

"I- I'm sorry," you sob, but he only rolls his eyes.

"Why'd you come here?" He asks, coldly.

"I don't know! I couldn't-" he cuts you off.

"I meant the first time. Why'd you come here?" William seems to lean into your ear when he speaks, sending chills down your spine.

"I- we came here as kids," you say, hoping your nostalgic ties could earn you mercy.

"You and Micheal?"

"Yes. I just wanted to relive it for a while. I'm sorry," your story dissolves to pleas.

"That's adorable." His voice is cold and evil and the two of you disappear into a dark corridor.

Back at his house, Mike calls your landline several times. A little tied up at the moment, you're unable to answer. He recalls your troublesome questioning earlier and decides you need to be checked on. After all, in his mind, you're already his now. Mike pokes his head into Abby's room and sees she's sound asleep so he makes the drive to your house.

"Y/N?" He calls, careful not to be too loud outside your home at night. He knocks for a little while longer and even looks through your bedroom window. Nothing. He climbs back into his car to return home, not wanting to leave Abby alone for too long.

On the way he passed that damned restaurant and at the last second spots your car in the furthest corner of the lot. His stomach drops. He doesn't know how, but he's certain William lured you back there to finish the job. He squeals the tires as he whips the car into the lot and haphazardly parks before clamoring inside through the shifty entrance.

"Have a seat." William gestures to a chair similar to a dentist's chair. It has restraints and looks like it's meant to take different positions. You swallow the lump in your throat.

"P-Please. I know coming back was stupid." You shake your head and try to back away from the threatening furniture, but his hand holds you in place. His grip grows tighter and he pushes you toward the chair. Fight-or-flight takes over and you begin to fight back. You swing at him and scream for help as loud as your lungs will let you. The sound rips through your throat and burns as you pray someone hears you.

"Y/N?!" Mike calls out, having heard your screams echo through the building. "Where are you?! I'm here!" He runs up and down the many passages and doorways of Freddy's, feeling more hopeless by the second.

William successfully fastens you into the chair and steps back to admire your helpless form. He's breathless from the struggle. Pushing his hair back into its coiffed position, he licks the blood off his lip from your resistance.

"You're unbelievable. Coming back for more and acting so ungrateful. Don't think it's not perfectly obvious why you've come back," William taunts. He circles you like a shark in dark waters. He reclines the mechanism and begins to carefully remove your clothes. He's oddly gentle compared to the way he cut your clothes off last time. He unfastens each restraint one at a time until you're exposed before him in nothing but your panties.

William starts to gingerly massage your breasts, his mouth hangs slightly open in an expression that asks "What's next?" Your face becomes red and you can't help but look away from him, squeezing your eyes shut and begging your body to stop rewarding him. Your nipples harden for him and your lace panties become soaked with your arousal.

"You must've worn there for me," William gushes as his hand finally travels down to your waist. Goosebumps ignite on your skin and it's everything you can do to stop yourself from moaning. He's teasing you. He slips his fingers inside you and you lose the battle, releasing a loud, desperate moan as he curls his knuckles inside you. He's older, and more experienced. It's as if he knows your body better than you do.

He fingers you until you've given up on holding back and you're just a writhing, moaning mess in front of him.

"Shh, shh..." He whispers as he knowingly guides you to your climax.

"William-" you start to protest, but it just comes out as you moaning his name. Just as he brings you to your limit, he removes his hand entirely. Something he seems to love to do. "No!"

"Filthy little thing. Look at you," he ridicules you as he licks your arousal off his fingers. He adjusts the chair again and you're left with your legs spread for him. He takes his position, waist high to your aching entrance. "You knew what you wanted when you came back. I'm going to give it to you." William unfastens his belt and releases his throbbing cock. It seems even bigger this time. Likes he's been teasing himself this whole time. His breath shudders as he slips the tip up and down in the wetness of your clit.

"I-" you stutter.

"What is it, puppet?" He roughly runs his hands up and down your thighs, awaiting your next line of resistance. The pet name makes you feel disgusting and your face reddens.

"I don't know if-"

"You don't know if you can take it?" He asks but gives you no time to respond before he's slammed completely inside of you. He releases a loud guttural moan as your cries cause you to flex around his erection. "You're gonna fucking take it."

He thrusts into you repeatedly, stretching you out and stimulating you beyond pleasure. Your screams and moans carry throughout the hallways and Mike follows the sound.

"Looks like we have a visitor," William laughs, continuing to fuck you as he watches Mike scramble around through the security monitors. "He's getting warmer."

"Let her go!" Mike finally reaches the security office door and watches in horror as he bangs on the window. His screams are muffled, but William can still hear enough to laugh at him.

"Come take a turn, Micheal. Listen to her," he begins to toy with your clit while he's thrusting in and out of you. You want to hold back so badly, but it's not an option. You release screams of pleasure. Mike didn't even know you could make sounds like that. So degenerate and needy. It's almost distracting. Finally, he busts through the door, sustaining some damage from using his body as a battering ram.

"Let her go. Now." Mike is a new kind of angry. Protective. William tilts his head as he slowly slips out of you and fastens his slacks. You're left whimpering and exhausted.

"Here, Micheal. Have a go. Tell me how tight she is." He holds out a hand to you like he's offering a friend a tray of cigars. "Don't tell me, you two already fucked, right?" William laughs. "Was it anything like what she needed from me? Are you capable of that?" William's words set off a rage inside of Mike. He charges at the tall, broad, older man, but he's quickly and easily tossed aside. William grabs Mike by the shirt and pins him against the wall.

"Don't be stupid. She's alive because I'm using her. I don't have that much reason to keep you around." He drops the short, protective man and turns to face you where you lie half-conscious on the table.

"Just leave us alone. What more could you want?" Mike sighs, defeated.

"Oh, plenty. Unfortunately for you, it's not enough just to fuck your friend. I want the suffering." He unfastens your restraints. "I want the shame." William wraps a hand in your hair and all but throws you onto the floor. You collapse on the floor with a cry of pain and Mike runs to your aid.

"Hey, hey. I'm here, okay? I'm here," Mike frantically tries to comfort you.

"Micheal, you're really disappointing. You have to know the only reason she gave it up was to relive what I did to her," William laughs. Truly amused to be so powerful over the two of you.

"Shut your fucking mouth. Don't talk about what you did to her!" Mike holds you to him protectively, but he seems to freeze up when William comes to collect you. He stands you up on all fours, holding your head by your hair, forcing his length down your sore throat right in front of where Mike remains on the ground behind you. He's frozen as he watches you put up no fight. Your swollen hole is perfectly presented to him and he can see it becoming wetter by the second.

"Y/N..." Mike mumbles your name as he watches. He's unsure if he's heartbroken, scared, or aroused.

"I'm not always going to share her, Micheal." William's manipulative words wrap around Mike like strings on a puppet. Like it's the last time he'll ever feel your skin again, he digs his fingers into your hips and pulls you against him, grinding against your throbbing cunt. Finally, no holds barred, he shuffles his pants down and roughly slams into you. It's as if William's influence was inescapable inside the walls of the restaurant, and Mike couldn't stop his darkest urges.

You moan against William's dick as he manually bobs your head with his fist full of your hair.

"All you're good for is getting fucked. Even your 'best friend' thinks so." William laughs as tears streak down your face. You're jostled back and forth as each man shoves themselves deeper and deeper inside of you. Afton finishes first, filling your mouth and throat with warmth as Mike takes over. He plows into you, quickening his off-beat thrusts as he reaches his peak.

"M-M-" Mike assumes you're trying to say his name. Ask him to stop. Lust has completely taken him over and he gently shushes you between hard thrusts. To his, and William's surprise, you finish your sentence. "More."

With a devilish smirk, William shoves Mike out of the way. He pulls out just as he finishes, covering you in his cum as he sits back, reeling from the orgasm. William takes over, effortlessly spinning you around to take advantage of your battered pussy. He lies you on your back and lifts your pelvis to meet his. He hesitates for a moment to look at you. Your demeanor has been completely shifted. The fear and struggle were replaced with an out-of-character neediness.

"Please!" You wail, arching your back and begging to be fucked. He chuckles as he uses one hand to guide himself inside you. You gasp as he slips past your lips. He has more girth than Mike, and seems to hit something inside you Mike just can't. You release a continuous stream of degenerate moans as he drills you. He laughs over your wails as he picks up his pace, chasing his second climax. Mike can only stare at the two of you. The way you unfold for him and how rough he is with you. He's jealous but frozen watching you cum harder than he thought possible.

William finishes inside you just as he did last time, claiming you. Mike doesn't get that power. You scream as you flood William and his well-pressed slacks and he fucks you through your high. Once he's finally done, he leaves you on the floor, too weak to move. He's so swift with fastening his pants and belt, that Mike barely realizes what's happening until Afton lands a devastating blow to his temple, knocking him unconscious.

You weakly lift your head, slowly coming to and the orgasm and lust clear from your mind.

"Mike!" You exclaim, but it's nearly silent as your throat has been used so roughly.

"Shh..." He whispers and he kneels over you next. His two strong, calculated hands reach your neck and begin to squeeze. Your eyes widen. This is it, you're certain. Tears stream down your cheeks as you look into his eyes, watching as he turns blurry and eventually fades to black.

Hours pass, days, who knows how long? Mike wakes up in the same dark alley as before. He searches for you frantically, but you're nowhere to be found.

"No, no, no, no..." Mike bangs on the doors, screaming your name to no reply. He quickly notices your car is missing and he hopes that you just left him there and went home. He deserves it and worse, after all. He stumbles to his car and drives to your place.

"Y/N," William tauntingly calls your name as he watches you come to. You realize it's the first time you've heard him say your name and you hate the way it makes your clit throb. You squeeze your eyes shut and open them again to see him standing in front of you. "I think I like you. You may feel like a prisoner for a while. But let's see what freedoms you can earn, okay?" You rise from your spot and notice you're in a room that looks almost like an incredibly tiny apartment. Like a pet cage for a human.

"Wait, what? What are-" he cuts you off as he steps out the door.

"You'll be here for a while." The door closes and you're left alone in the plain, beige room. To be used, whenever.