the memory hurts but does me no harm

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@lovesickward
the memory hurts but does me no harm
“i’ll take care of you” will be one of the most gentlest things someone can say to you
william blow the smoke of his cigarette onto your face as an "blowing air-kiss" signature instead. that's it.
he is a 10/10 but he apologizing to his plushies when they falls off the bed at night (silly)
imagine while william has springlock scars all the way of his body and then you running your tounge across the faint pink lines of deep skin and tracing and then he feels sensitive and shivers anddddd.........
𐔌 ᩙ 𝐒𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬 𑁯 ྀི°ᡣ𐭩 ⸼ ࣪ ׅ
෬ᩍഒ william afton x reader
AO3
.✦ ݁˖ㅤ۫cre art : @crueltygames on tumblr (TY for blessing your william and fem william contents i am so obsessed with them sm they're very dear to me (even if they're unapologetic murderer oops) !! 🙏)
.✦ ݁˖ㅤ۫cw : none / fluff / domestic fluff / no use of y/n for reader insert / gender neutral for the reader / slice of life (ig) / william being a little tease and jerk / relationship depends on the reader interpret
.✦ ݁˖ㅤ۫summary : you're living a quiet domestic life with william. sometimes, it can be a chaos.
₊Იੵׅᰍ author's note : my second of the oneshot now heheh i have sm draft currently rn and i'll try to finish them. don't judge me pls 😞 i do crave more fluff of william, i just wanted to hug the man who is my terribly obsession comfort ever since the FNAF 2 and sister location. this is my another indulgence again. *sob sob* also i'll post on ao3 later soon.
ᰋ𓏲 word count : 4,1 k
the moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains of the master bedroom, casting silvery ribbons across the duvet. for a long time, the silence of the afton household was absolute, save for the lilting, distant ticking of a grandfather clock downstairs.
you drifted in that hazy, liminal space between dreams and consciousness, lulled by the warmth of the bed. however, a sensation began to creep in a localized heaviness pressing firmly against your hip and waist. it was dense and warm, an unmistakable weight that felt entirely too intentional to be a stray pillow.
oh no, not THIS— panic flickered in your chest; your breath hitched as your mind raced toward the supernatural, wondering if some unseen entity had decided to settle upon your chest in the dead of night.
struggling against the perceived lethargy of sleep, you gripped the edge of the heavy comforter and peeled it back just enough to peer beneath the fabric. your heart gave a frantic thump, but it quickly settled into a confused flutter.
there was no demon. instead, tangled within the sheets, lay william.
the usually poised, impeccably dressed man was a mess of soft edges. his dark hair was mussed against the pillow, and his breathing was deep and steady. most striking was the way he had anchored himself to you; his muscular arms were wound tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against his frame as if terrified you might evaporate if he loosened his grip. he looked remarkably human in the dim light stripped of his theatricality and sharp, calculating gaze, replaced by a quiet, vulnerable stillness. he nuzzled his face into the crook of your waist, a subconscious, rabbit like habit of claiming his territory even in the depths of slumber.
a surge of mild frustration bubbled up in your chest, momentarily eclipsing the initial fear. while the sight was endearing in theory, the practical reality of being pinned by a grown man in the middle of the night made it difficult to find comfortable footing.
reaching blindly beside you, your fingers curled around the plump corner of a spare pillow. with a huff of exasperated breath, you swung it, landing a muffled thud squarely against his shoulder. that impact was enough to jar him from the depths of his dream. william let out a startled, disoriented "Hm?!", the sound vibrating lowly in his throat. his eyelashes fluttered rapidly against his pale skin as he blinked, his eyes unfocused and clouded with the haze of sudden awakening.
as the fog cleared, he didn't scramble backward in embarrassment or offer a sheepish apology. so instead, he merely tightened his hold on your waist instinctively, blinking slowly at you as if you were the one behaving irrationally. he looked utterly unbothered, his expression settling into a drowsy, calm sort of confusion.
to him, he hadn't committed a transgression; he had simply found his anchor in the dark.
***
a soft, sleepy chuckle escaped him, a rare, airy sound that lacked his usual practiced polish. he leaned his forehead against your side, his nose brushing the fabric of your sleepwear in a silent, tactile nuzzle. "too much noise for such a lovely dream, darling." he murmured, voice thick and velvety with sleep, sounding more like a contented creature than a man who had just been assaulted by bedding. he seemed perfectly content to ignore the pillow altogether, waiting instead for you to sink back into the warmth he provided.
your irritation peaked at his nonchalance. rather than accepting his drowsy excuse, you reached out, planting both hands on his cheeks. you squeezed firmly, intending to pinch his skin and force a more apologetic response, effectively trying to mush his handsome features into a comical pout. under your palms, his skin was impossibly soft and cool, the structure of his high cheekbones resisting the pressure of your fingers.
yet, despite the indignity of having his face squished like a plush toy, william remained infuriatingly stubborn. he didn't recoil or protest the loss of his dignified silhouette. instead, he leaned into the squeeze, tilting his head just enough to deepen the contact. he met your gaze with those heavy lidded, silver gray eyes, looking at you with a mixture of amusement and profound laziness.
"are we attempting to reshape me, then?" he rumbled, the vibration of his voice traveling directly into your fingertips. even with his mouth slightly distorted by your grip, he managed to maintain a trace of that effortless, smug charm.
instead of yielding to your strength, he used the momentum to shift upward, sliding his face from your grasping hands to the palm of your hand itself. he pressed a slow, lingering nuzzle against your skin, his nose grazing your lifeline as if dismissing your attempt at discipline. he was a man accustomed to directing the flow of any interaction, and even in his most vulnerable state, he refused to let you win the tug of war. he simply waited, his warmth radiating against you, silently daring you to actually push him away.
if he intended to use his charms to pacify you, he had underestimated your resolve.
seeing as he was determined to remain an immovable object, you decided that if he wouldn't yield to politeness, he would succumb to pure, unadulterated annoyance.
since he loved to nestle his face against you like a territorial creature, you took advantage of his proximity.
while he was drifting back toward the precipice of sleep, his breathing slowing once more, you began a systematic campaign of micro disturbances. you started by tracing the tip of your fingernail in slow, agonizing circles right against the sensitive shell of his ear. then, as he let out a soft, warning huff of breath, you shifted tactics. using the toe of your foot under the covers, you began to rhythmically, lightly poke his calf a repetitive, staccato motion intentionally to prevent him from finding that precious, deep rhythm again.
every time he let out a groan of protest, murmuring something incoherent about "peace" or "rest" you doubled down. you leaned over and blew a single, sharp puff of air directly onto the nape of his neck, knowing full well how much he prided himself on his impeccable poise.
finally, you went for the ultimate provocation. you grabbed a handful of his beautifully tousled hair those dark, silken locks he spent so much time perfecting and gave it a tiny, playful tug.
"bunny..." he groaned, his voice dropping into a raspy, dangerously low register. one eye cracked open, glaring at you through the gloom with a look of mock betrayal. he looked less like a suave gentleman and more like a disgruntled, sleepy rabbit whose nap had been rudely interrupted. "do you intend to keep me awake until dawn, or is there a specific reason you are treating me like a particularly troublesome toy?"
***
before you could prepare your next assault, his large, dexterous hands abandoned their passive embrace of your waist.
suddenly, his long fingers became blurs of movement, diving straight for the most sensitive dip of your waist and the soft expanse of your tummy. he knew exactly where you were most vulnerable, his touch alternating between rapid, fluttering strokes and firm, digging prods.
you let out a strangled yelp, your entire body jolting in a violent, instinctive arch. you practically jumped off the mattress, your back curving sharply as laughter erupted from your lungs in breathless, uncontrolled bursts.
"WILLIAM! STOPP—!" you gasped, twisting frantically to escape his relentless onslaught, but he was a master of positioning. he used his weight to pin you partially, ensuring his fingers could continue their devastating dance across your ribs and hips.
undeterred by the momentary defeat, however, you scrambled to reclaim some semblance of control. fueled by a cocktail of giggles and indignation, you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to weigh him down. you attempted to use your knees to nudge him aside, pinning his wrists against the pillows in a desperate bid to neutralize his weapons. it turned into a chaotic, tangled wrestle of limbs and silk sheets, a flurry of whispered protests and triumphant snickers amidst the darkness of the room.
eventually, the frenzied wrestling slowed, leaving you both panting and thoroughly exhausted. the petty fight ended in a stalemate of tangles; you collapsed back onto the plush mattress, your chest heaving as the last echoes of laughter faded into the quiet of the room.
beside you, william fell with equal heaviness, his limbs sprawling outward as he let out a long, dramatic sigh of surrender.
for a few minutes, a playful sulk hung in the air between you. you turned your back to him, pulling the duvet up to your chin in a silent declaration of victory, though your racing heart betrayed how much fun you'd actually had. william, meanwhile, stared up at the ceiling, his hair a magnificent disaster and his chest rising and falling in sync with yours.
he looked genuinely offended, his lip jutting out in a way that was far too endearing for a man of his reputation.
then, the silence broke. you felt the bed shift as he rolled onto his side, gravitating back toward you like a moon orbiting a planet. he didn't say anything at first—he simply draped a heavy, warm arm over your waistand pulled you back toward him, closing the gap you had so defiantly created. he nudged your shoulder with his nose, a soft, tentative gesture of peace offering. "must you be so incredibly difficult huh, darling?" he murmured, though the bite was entirely absent from his tone, replaced by a tender, sleepy rasp.
turning back to face him, you found his gaze already fixed on you, his silver gray eyes softened by the shadows and a newfound gentleness. the silliness of the skirmish dissolved into something much warmer.
you reached out, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, smoothing away the traces of your previous "attack".
william responded by capturing your hand, pressing a lingering, fervent kiss to your knuckles before pulling you fully into his embrace. he hovered there for a moment, his breath warm against your lips, before finally closing the distance. the kiss was slow and tasted of shared secrets and late night comfort a soft, grounding connection that tethered you both to the present.
as he eventually drew back, he didn't let go. instead, he tucked your head securely under his chin, his legs intertwining with yours beneath the heavy blankets. he held you with a protective, singular focus, his heartbeat a steady drum against your ear.
***
within minutes, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest signaled that he had finally surrendered to sleep, dragging you peacefully down into the quiet dark with him.
later, as the moonlight filtered through the curtains in pale, dusty streaks, a peaceful stillness settled over the room. william was nearly asleep again, his body heavy and relaxed against yours, his breathing quiet deep and melodic. can't hold the urge by a sudden impulse of affection, you lifted your hand from his waist and began to thread your fingers through the dark, silky strands of his hair. you moved with extreme caution, stroking from his forehead back toward the nape of his neck in slow, soothing motions. you expected him to murmur a sleepy thanks or perhaps shift slightly to accommodate you, but the reaction was far more unexpected.
underneath your touch, a peculiar sound vibrated through his chest. it wasn't a human hum, nor was it a vocalization born of speech. it was a— low, rhythmic thrumming a soft, trilling vibration that resonated deep within his throat. it sounded remarkably like a cat’s purr, or perhaps the contented, chattering nuzzle of a rabbit settling into a warm burrow — a sound he would surely deny ever making if he were fully conscious.
feeling the sheer vulnerability of the moment, you continued the massage, your fingertips kneading the scalp he so meticulously cared for. each time your nails grazed his skin, the little trill intensified, growing slightly louder and more frequent.
william didn't wake; but, he seemed to melt further into the mattress, his head tilting instinctively into your palm to seek out more of the sensation.
he was no longer the commanding mr. afton or the flamboyant springbonnie; he was simply yours, making the very most honest noises he was capable of producing.
how it's oddly silly yet can be adorable at the same time.
***
Beep. Beep. Beep beep beep beep!
that relentless, high pitched shrieking sliced through the silence of the room like a dull knife, vibrating right through the mattress and into your skull. it is morning already?
"william... please..." you groaned into the pillow, the sound muffled by the heavy duvet as the morning sun began to bleed through the cracks in the curtains. you hadn't even opened your eyes yet, but the sudden, violent SLAM of the bedroom door had already jolted your heart rate upward.
"DADDY! DADDY, WAKE UP!" elizabeth’s voice pierced through the quiet of the house like a drill. you felt the mattress shake as she threw herself against the doorframe, her footsteps thudding rhythmically as she bounced on her heels. "the toaster is making the funny noises again! and michael's being a jerk!"
beside you, william let out a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a growl. he didn't move to get up, instead burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck, his arms tightening around you as if trying to shield you from the noise. "mm... elizabeth, darling... go play with your dolls..." he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep and irritation.
"but—BUT daddy!" she insisted, her voice getting louder. "michael said he's not gonna help me with my drawings!"
you squinted one eye open, the light stinging your vision. through the crack in the door, you could see two small figures hovering in the hallway. michael was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking bored and slightly annoyed, while evan stood behind him, clutching a stuffed bear and peering timidly into the room.
"she's being loud again," michael muttered, though he made no move to actually stop her.
"it's not my fault!" elizabeth snapped back, her voice rising in pitch. "he's just being mean!"
william finally lifted his head from your shoulder, his hair a chaotic mess and his eyes narrowed at the door. he looked utterly disheveled, his usual composure completely gone. "children." he said, his voice dropping into that low, dangerous tone he used when he was truly losing his patience. "out. now."
"but"
"out." he repeated, sharper this time.
you sighed, rubbing your face with your hands as you sat up slightly, the sheets slipping down your chest. "god, it's too early for this," you muttered, your voice raspy with sleep. "elizabeth, please... go away."
william reached out, his fingers catching yours and squeezing gently as if to ground you, though his eyes remained fixed on the door. "go on then," he urged the children, his tone dripping with a forced patience that was clearly wearing thin. "go find something else to bother. your father is busy."
michael rolled his eyes, grabbing elizabeth by the shoulder to drag her away. "come on, lizzy. he's just being dramatic again."
"i'm NOT being dramatic," william called after them, his voice regaining some of its usual theatricality despite the sleep deprivation. "i AM being reasonable!"
as the footsteps faded down the hallway, he slumped back against the headboard with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. he looked over at you, his expression softening instantly. "i swear..." he whispered, "one of these days i'm going to put a lock on that door. a very, very sturdy lock."
he leaned in, pressing a quick, apologetic kiss to your temple. "my my forgive me, my love. i'll make it up to you later."
"you're not going to just leave them to fight, are you?" you murmured against his shoulder, still thick with sleep as you traced idle patterns over his arm. "elizabeth's going to end up throwing something, and.. michael's just going to stand there and watch her do it."
william let out a dry, amused huff, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer.
"oh, i'm sure they'll manage. they're quite— capable of chaos without my direct supervision." he leaned down, pressing his nose against your cheek with a soft, rabbit like nudge. "besides, i have much better things to do with my time today."
"like what?" you teased, tilting your head back to look at him.
"like this," he murmured, capturing your lips in a slow, lazy kiss that tasted faintly of the coffee he hadn't had yet. his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he settled back into the pillows. "or perhaps..." he trailed off, his thumb tracing the curve of your hip through the sheets. "we could go down there in a few minutes. i could... distract them."
you chuckled, the sound vibrating against his chest. "you mean you'll perform some magic trick to get them out of your hair?"
"precisely," he smirked, his eyes glinting with that familiar, mischievous spark. "a well timed coin vanish or a disappearing act always works wonders on children. they're so easily mesmerized." he paused, his expression softening as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "but only after you've had your breakfast. and perhaps another hour of this."
"just an hour?" you raised an eyebrow.
"maybe two," he admitted, his voice dropping to a low, velvet purr as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. "if you're good."
the muffled sounds of michael and elizabeth arguing drifted up from downstairs the unmistakable crash of something plastic hitting the floor followed by elizabeth's indignant gasp. william groaned into your skin, his grip tightening possessively.
"see?" he muttered against your collarbone. "they're already at it. i'll go down in a moment, darling. i promise." he pulled back just enough to capture your lips again, this time with more purpose, his tongue tracing your bottom lip in a slow, deliberate caress. "but first..."
his hand slid lower, his fingers splaying across your hip as he pulled you firmly against him, the heat of his body radiating through the thin fabric of your nightgown.
"let's see how much trouble we can get into before they realize we've abandoned them."
"william! honestly!" you gasped, a warm flush creeping up your neck and staining your cheeks a bright, dusty rose. you pressed your palms against his chest, pushing him back with just a fraction of the strength you actually possessed a half hearted, mock protest that did nothing to stop the heat radiating from him. "you're absolutely shameless. the children are right downstairs!"
"let them wonder," he chuckled, the sound low and vibrating against your skin. he didn't budge an inch, instead leaning into your touch as if your hands were meant to be there, caressing him rather than pushing him away.
"they're far too preoccupied with their own little dramas to notice their father being a man of... refined tastes."
"refined tastes? is that what we're calling it now?" you rolled your eyes, though you couldn't quite hide the small, lopsided smile tugging at your lips. you tried to pull a sulky expression, narrowing your eyes at him in a way that was meant to be intimidating but felt entirely too soft. "you're just being a menace. a silly and annoying menace."
"but i'm your menace, aren't i?" he countered, his voice dropping to that intimate, velvety register that always made your heart skip a beat. he caught one of your hands, bringing it to his lips to press a lingering, worshipful kiss to your palm.
his eyes searched yours, filled with a quiet, intense adoration that always made you feel like the only person in his entire, chaotic world.
you let out a huff of feigned exasperation, finally letting your hand slide from his chest to rest against his cheek.
"yes, yes. of course you are."
the house settled into a momentary lull, the distant sounds of the kids' bickering fading into the background as the morning light grew warmer, bathing the room in a soft, golden glow. for a long beat silence hourly, neither of you spoke, simply existing in the comfortable, heavy warmth of each other's presence. it was a rare, stolen pocket of peace in a life that was usually so loud and demanding.
"stay like this a little longer..." william whispered, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "just a little longer, before the world demands we be 'responsible' adults again."
you agreed, leaning forward to press a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth, letting the domestic quiet wrap around you both like a second blanket.
"just a little longer."
***
eventually, the pull of reality and the distant, a loud thump thump of elizabeth jumping on a sofa downstairs forced you both out of the warmth of the bed. you moved through the house like two ghosts, navigating the quiet hallways until you reached the master bathroom.
standing side by side in front of the vanity mirror, the reality of your morning hit you both. william, usually the man of impeccable grooming, looked utterly wrecked. his dark hair was standing up in jagged, static filled tufts, sticking up at odd angles as also his silk pajama shirt was half tucked and wrinkled. you weren't much better; your hair was a tangled nest, and your eyes were slightly puffed from sleep and there was a faint, telltale smudge of something on your jawline. splashing cool water onto your face felt like a much needed jolt to the system, though the sensation was doubled as william leaned over the sink beside you.
william caught your gaze in the reflection and let out a soft, huffed laugh. "good heavens," he murmured, reaching up to try and smooth a particularly stubborn lock of hair, only to make it stick out even more. "we look like we’ve been caught in a disaster. or perhaps a very disorganized rabbit burrow."
"oh, hush," you giggled, leaning your head against his shoulder as you squeezed a dollop of toothpaste onto your brushes. "you're the one who wouldn't let me go."
he smirked, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he began to brush, his movements surprisingly methodical even in his disheveled state.
"a valid excuse, wouldn't you say?" he murmured, his voice still raspy from sleep. "..hardly the image of the respectable mr. afton."
"hardly," you teased, wiping a stray bit of foam from the corner of your mouth. "you look like you've been through a whirlwind."
"a very pleasant whirlwind." he corrected with a wink, finally smoothing his hair back with a vain, albeit messy, swipe of his fingers.
you both stood there in a comfortable, domestic silence, the only sound the rhythmic scrubbing of bristles and the occasional soft chuckle when one of you caught sight of the other's ridiculous reflection.
once you had both managed to look somewhat human william having spent a few extra minutes with a comb to tame. still possessed a certain 'just woken up' glow that he refused to fully iron out you made your way down the stairs.
william paused on the landing, his brow furrowing as a thin, grey ribbon of smoke began to curl lazily from the kitchen doorway. "is that...?"
"the toaster..." you whispered, eyes widening.
he sighed, a long, dramatic sound of a man who had been woken far too early for such theatrics. "elizabeth, you little—..."
descending the stairs, the scene in the living room was pure messy chaotic. the television was blaring a bright, loud cartoon, the colors flashing wildly against the walls. michael was sprawled on the rug, surrounded by a sea of scattered comic books and half eaten cereal, looking remarkably unbothered as he tried to balance a spoon on his nose. evan was tucked into the corner of the sofa, clutching a plush fredbear tightly to his chest, his eyes wide and watery as he watched the smoke drift from the kitchen with silent apprehension.
"it's a FIRE! a kitchen fire!" elizabeth's voice shrieked from the kitchen, followed by the frantic clatter of a metal spatula.
william stepped into the fray, his hand finding the small of your back in a grounding, possessive gesture. "alright, alright! calm yourselves!" he called out, his voice regaining that commanding edge. he looked at the smoke, then at his disheveled children ... and finally at you, a wry, tired smirk playing on his lips. "it seems the 'peaceful' morning we planned has been officially declared a casualty of war."
𓊆❤︎𓊇 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐄 © all rights reserved . do not plagiarize , copy , translate or repost any of my works on any platform .ᐟ
𐔌 ᩙ 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐀𝐧 𝐔𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟 𑁯 ྀི°ᡣ𐭩 ⸼ ࣪ ׅ
෬ᩍഒ william afton x fem reader
AO3
.✦ ݁˖ㅤ۫cre art : foxyybro on instagram
.✦ ݁˖ㅤ۫cw : oneshot / lewd smut content / porn with (a little) plot / blowjob / oral sex / edging / slightly submissive top william / praise kink / creampie / overstimulation / fluff and fluff.. because i crave fluff okay / boss x employee / older man x younger woman / age gap difference - reader is in mid 20s and william is in his 40s / william and reader are having a secret close intimate relationship, a long-standing to be said, only a little hint
₊Იੵׅᰍ author's note : this is purely a little self-indulgent fanfic and i'm very honry ass craving any smutty of willy. regarding my interpretation of william, it will be... uhh different(?) than what you might read in other fanfics or from a different perspective. i'm aware it's OOC asf. though i'm not very good at expressing it. i was supposed to write a sex scene after the oral sex that but uhh nvm. my english is broken send help.
ᰋ𓏲 word count : 2,3 k
the atmosphere in william’s private quarters was stifling, thick with the tender scent of cedarwood and the metallic tang of machine oil that seemed to cling to his very pores.
he had been pacing the floor of his workshop all evening, his movements jagged and restless, a frantic sort of kinetic energy vibrating off his lanky frame. when he finally turned to you, his perpetual smile felt thinner, stretched by a fatigue that went deeper than mere exhaustion.
"a little relief, darling." he murmured, his voice dropping into a velvety, honeyed register as he leaned over you. "something to— truly relax the stress. don't you think, hm?"
as he shed his clothes with a practiced, theatrical grace, you found yourself momentarily breathless.
you had seen him poised and commanding in the light of the diner, but here, stripped of his persona, he possessed a predatory elegance.
when he finally guided you toward him, the sight of his cock made your heart hammer a frantic rhythm against your ribs.
it was deceptively beautiful a sleek, flushing pink that looked almost too perfect to be real, tapering into a subtle, elegant hook at the tip. It wasn't the monstrous size you had braced yourself for, but there was a weight to it, a certain heaviness in his low hanging plums that promised a staggering abundance.
as you took him into your mouth, the warmth was immediate tasting faintly of salt and a hint of something sweet, like forbidden confectionery. william let out a choked, rhythmic sound not quite a groan, but a soft, huffing breath that sounded suspiciously like a satisfied rabbit settling into its nest.
your hands gripped his thighs, feeling the corded, wiry strength of his muscles as he began to tilt his hips, guiding your rhythm with a singular focus.
the initial gentleness of the encounter shattered with startling speed. as the friction increased, the mask of the composed, calculating businessman slipped, revealing the ravenous hunger beneath. william’s breathing hitched, turning into ragged, shallow gasps that echoed against the workbench nearby.
his pupils dilated until his dark silver eyes were nearly swallowed by black, fixed intensely on your face as if searching for a sign of surrender.
without warning, driven by a sudden, overwhelming surge of tension, he snapped forward deep into the back of your throat with a sharp forceful thrust. the blunt force of his head hitting the back of your palate forced a startled, involuntary gag from your lungs, your eyes flew wide and watering instantly from the intrusion.
"ah—!" he jerked, his entire frame stiffening as the sensation peaked too sharply.
realization dawned on him almost immediately; the man blinked, retreating slightly to allow you a moment to breathe. he reached down, his long fingers trembling just a fraction as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your damp forehead.
"oh my forgive me, darling," he whispered, his voice strained and husky, lacking its usual theatrical polish.
there was a rare, genuine flicker of softness in his gaze a silent acknowledgment of his momentary loss of control.
"i suppose... i lost my footing for a moment."
***
true to his word, william eased up on the intensity quite a bit. gone was the hard, forceful push and pull, replaced instead by long, lazy strokes that whipped your mouth about, teasing the very top of it, all while pressing against your throat with his thrusts and retreat.
he became deliberate again, milking the sensation with a steady rhythm coaxes you back into sync with his mounting heat.
you shifted your weight, sliding further between his legs to find a more stable vantage point. you adjusted your grip on his inner thighs, tilting your head back to create a smoother path for him.
eager to witness the total unraveling of his poise, you deepened your suction, wrapping your lips tightly around the sensitive underside of his shaft and pulling upward with a hungry, insistent pressure.
william’s hands flew to the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white as he fought to remain upright. a fractured, staccato sound escaped him a series of breathless, stumbling syllables that lacked any semblance of his usual sophisticated cadence. "l-love... ah, poppet..." he stammered, his voice cracking as you mimicked the relentless greed of a creature finding sustenance. each time you drew him in deep, his hips bucked instinctively, driven by a primal need to meet your maw.
watching him like this, you couldn't help but marvel at the sheer contradiction of his form.
even amidst the sweat and the disarray, he remained breathtakingly exquisite; the moonlight caught the elegant slope of his jaw and the fine, porcelain texture of his skin. he was far too pretty for such raw, unbridled desperation.
a fleeting thought drifted through your mind as you watched his eyes glaze over:
had anyone else ever held this power over him? had another pair of hands ever navigated these tensions, or was he a man who kept his most visceral pleasures locked behind iron gates of decorum?
as you intensified your pace, sensing him hovering on the precipice, the answer mattered less than the reality of his current undoing.
the intensity in the room climbed until the air itself felt heavy. william was losing the battle to stay composed. his face, usually so carefully curated and calm, was flooded with a deep, hot flush that spread from his cheeks down to his collarbone. his hair, typically combed into perfection, was a tangled mess falling over his brow, and his eyelashes fluttered erratically. even with his eyebrows furrowed in a tense, concentrated grimace, he had never looked more captivating. he looked human vulnerable and beautifully wrecked.
you can't imagine that sucking someone's cock could possible bring them to the peak of pleasure to like this, your skill cannot be that fucking good.
one of his hands moved from the table to your head. His long fingers wound into a strand of your hair, tugging gently. it wasn't a truly harsh or controlling yank, but a needy, grounding pull that urged you closer. "deeper, darling." he breathed, his voice a raspy thread of sound. "take all of it... please."
as you quick nodded and obeyed, bobbing your head to accommodate his full length, the world started to spin. the repetitive motion and the overwhelming sensation of him filling your mouth made you feel dizzy, your senses blurring into a haze of warmth and salt.
***
above you, william began to descend, his body sinking toward yours as he surrendered to the pleasure.
he started to mutter, a stream of incoherent whispers that tumbled from his lips in a feverish rush. most of it was a nonsensical babble of sounds you couldn't quite catch, spoken in a voice so low it was almost a vibration. yet, through the fog of your dizziness, a few distinct fragments pierced through the noise.
"...s-so, so good... my sweet girl... oh heavens bunny.."
then, a soft, broken praise that made your heart skip: "mmh...perfect... just perfect for me..."
he was rambling, completely unmoored from his usual dignity, lost entirely in the way you were worshiping him.
fueled by the raw honesty in his voice, you decided to push harder. you abandoned the careful, slow rhythms and began to pick up the pace, moving your head with a fierce, determined energy. you poured everything you had into it, wanting to see just how far you could bend his legendary self control.
the result was louder than expected. as the more you increased the speed, a sharp yelp tore from william’s throat, followed immediately by a loud, unrestrained moan that rang out through the quiet workshop. both of you froze for a split second, stunned by the sheer lack of volume; the man who prided himself on subtlety had just practically shouted his pleasure to the rafters.
he was right there, teetering on the absolute edge. you could taste the salty, sweet slick of pre cum coating your tongue, a signal that he was about to boil over.
determined to finish him, you changed your approach, tightening your grip and using your tongue to swirl aggressively around the very tip of him while simultaneously increasing the depth of your swallows. that was the breaking point. william’s body arched violently, his fingers digging painfully into your scalp as he groaned a final, broken plea.
then came the release. he surged into your throat with several thick, hot ropes of semen pulsing deep inside you. the volume was immense, flooding your mouth and making you swallow desperately just to keep up with the onslaught of his climax...
***
an hour later, the hazy, sweaty passion had evaporated, replaced by the cool, sterile order of the room. william sat at his desk, looking every bit the impeccable gentleman once more. his hair was smoothed back, his skin was cleansed, and his expression was one of serene, professional calm, as if— the frantic man who had just been sobbing your name hadn't existed.
he reached into a drawer and pulled out a thick envelope, sliding it across the mahogany surface toward you. "a little something extra for this month," he said smoothly, his voice regained its melodic, sophisticated lilt. "—to assist with your expenses. consider it a reward for... helping me find my relaxation."
crazy thing, it was a significant amount of money far more than a standard bonus should ever be.
he looked at you with a faint, expectant smile, clearly intending for this to be a gesture of both gratitude and a subtle way to ease your recent struggles.
but as you looked at the envelope, you didn't feel the urge to grab it. instead, you offered him a small, soft smile. reaching out, you placed your hand over his and gently pressing his fingers closed around the stack of bills, effectively pushing the gift back toward him.
"keep it, i think you should, william.." you said softly, your voice polite but firm. "it really wasn't anything particularly valuable. just a moment shared between us, i rather be honest. you no need to worry."
william stared at you, his eyes widening in genuine surprise. for a brief moment, the mask flickered, leaving him speechless as he realized that, despite everything he provided, you weren't looking for his gold you were simply content with him.
the silence that followed your refusal hung in the air, not even awkward, but heavy with a newfound understanding. william looked down at his hand, his fingers curled tight around the envelope he had intended as a tether a way to ensure you stayed indebted to him. by rejecting the money, you had done something far more daring: you had asserted your independence within the intimacy of your bond.
for a long moment, he merely searched your eyes, trying to decipher if this was a game of modesty or a true display of your spirit.
slowly, the corner of his mouth quirked upward, not into his performative, wide grin, but into a small, private smile that belonged only to you. the rigid posture of the employer softened, and the distance he maintained as a superior dissolved.
he rose from his chair, the movement graceful and silent, and walked around the desk until he stood directly in front of you. he didn't loom; instead, he leaned in, invading your space with the comforting, familiar scent of cedar and cloves.
"always stubborn as a mule, isn't it?" he murmured, though his tone was devoid of any actual bite. it was fond, almost reverent.
he reached out, cupping your jaw with a hand that was warm and immensely steady. his thumb traced the line of your lower lip, which was still slightly swollen from the night's activities. then, he tilted your head back and pressed his lips to yours. a slow, lingering, and profoundly tender. it tasted of quiet promises rather than urgent hunger. he lingered there, his forehead resting against yours as the kiss trailed off into a soft exhale.
in that stillness, the hierarchy of boss and employee felt utterly irrelevant, replaced by a simple, grounding warmth that settled deep in your chest.
"goodnight, my love." he whispered against your skin, a velvet caress. "until tomorrow."
***
'till the midnight, the walk home was quiet, cool night air doing little to soothe the pleasant ache settling in your limbs. your footsteps echoed softly on the pavement as you trudged along, the exhaustion of the evening finally catching up to you. as you reached your doorstep and reached up to slide the strap of your bag off your shoulder, a small piece of paper slipped from the folds of the leather, fluttering to the ground like a fallen leaf.
you paused, bending down to retrieve it with a tired groan escaping your lips. expecting a discarded receipt or a grocery list, you blinked in confusion when you unfolded the scrap.
it was a small piece of parchment, folded neatly. upon unfolding it, you found yourself staring at a drawing that seemed wildly at odds with the man you had just left. it has a crude, charmingly childish doodle of a cartoon rabbit. the lines were shaky and enthusiastic, featuring a large, grinning face and a disproportionately oversized bowtie. it looked like something plucked straight from the pages of a child's coloring book, possessing a whimsical sort of silliness that felt unexpectedly endearing.
tucked just below the scribbled bunny was a single line of text, written in his unmistakable handwriting elegant, precise, and sweeping.
beneath the message, the initials "W.A" served as a definitive seal.
your breath hitched slightly as you read the contents.
" friday evening. seven o'clock. wear that dress that makes you look so delightfully defiant. don't be so late, darling. "
a small, knowing smile played on your lips.
despite his attempts to return to his stoic, professional shell after the encounter, the little doodle proved he was still thinking of you and that his penchant for dramatics extended even to the simplest notes.
a soft chuckle escaped you, holding the note close to your chest, you headed inside, the tiredness suddenly feeling a lot lighter.
maybe this night isn't so bad after all—a good time to unwind. just an usual stress relief.
𓊆❤︎𓊇 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐄 © all rights reserved . do not plagiarize , copy , translate or repost any of my works on any platform .ᐟ
"STOP ROMANTICIZING HIM IT'S BAD AND HE IS A MURDERER!!!—"
mmm but what if idc and i still keeps swooning over him no matter what. he's just being a silly guy sometimes, your honor.
let be honest, william is def the type of who makes joke and being goofy when in the sex intercourse with you.
you can't just looking at me and said that man is completely "serious".
not often. though, depends on how the relationship of him and other partner if it's close to actual intimate. he must trust and love you enough to show that and more comfortable, instead continues to keep his cool composed and act like dom.
i do think he sometimes does want to make you laugh or frustrated intentionally, and focusing on him beside just only sexual.
he is pretty a yapper and vocal dramatically but other times he is suddenly dead-silent as hell.
i've noticed that most people think william is the physical touch and touch-starved type, are his love language. i think so too. but actually, i think— it's not entirely... he's so "touch-starving" that.
as for me, my sense, william doesn't mind physical contact, even if it's just habitual gestures, communication, physical interaction... or intimacy. i don't really think he's bothered by PDA even though pretend to act annoyed ( he's dramatic as hell on purpose, other times, he does actually kind of flushing and flustered (?) i means if you makes a surprise affection to him in front of the public but after he recovered it quickly and "paid back" with you ), however he doesn't hesitate to give and receive from his partner. touching on shoulder, holding hands, pecky kisses etc.
but i thinking back, "gift" and "word affirmation" suit him more likely. what if ?
because i simply think he "thinks" that all he needs to do is give gifts or use sweetly honeyed words. to him, it can easily resolve things and make everything go smoothly, something that can appease his partner and make them forget about it with just a little "bribery"/"flattery" = everything is okay and he can hope his partner will forgive him or love and pamper him more. and lets not ignore how william is inherently an defined "attention seeker" - someone who likes attention, likes praise, likes to have things done his way, and likes to be pampered ... that man is selfish as hell.
michael fits the "touch-staverd" label tbh ( though he's the kind of person who demands recognition, at least not as much as william or as excessively so ) :p
and i thought .... kissing william when he is in a spring-bunny suit is the hottest romantic thing ever .. imagine you jokingly kiss on its snout and then you don't play anymore and decide to open the mouth while he was little panic and and you kiss the man inside.
i like the idea is that william does quietly enjoys going for long drives somewhere far outside of Utah. not the kind of person who just stays put for long periods. and i think, from my headcanon, william may have lived in several places before deciding to immigrate to Utah. i don't know what his choice intentionally was, if he ever actually did. but i'm guessing.
in the way certain birds keep turning their heads toward distant coastlines even after building a nest inland. william strikes me as the kind of man who becomes restless when the horizon sits still too long (there is something deeply un-Utah about him sometimes). mostly i've seen people often imagine him trapped inside laboratories, offices, dark back rooms with with machinery and paperworks. but i think he would go stale there. mold growing over gold leaf.
no, william needs movement.
while it's not exactly rare for him to travel, he occasionally wants to unwind and wander around. the long road at dusk. neon signs trembling in motel rain. strange little diners with cracked vinyl booths and jukeboxes singing old heartbreaks into the cigarette haze. he likes places with personality, kind of places that failed a little, places that tried too hard or some places full of blinking lights and theatrical nonsense—where he never ever seen/hj.
especially those old family entertainment restaurants from the 70s and 80s with animatronics that moved a little too slowly. he would stand there utterly fascinated, silver eyes bright as coins under fluorescent lighting, watching the mechanical jaw twitch. and he goes then:
“look at the servo timing on that thing.”
“it’s dreadful.”
“i adore it.”
whenever he was away, he would always call henry or leave a letter. william insisted it was an "important" duty, though in reality it was just an excuse for his own amusement. henry knew this but still agreed, knowing where it would lead. henry absolutely receives phone calls from roadside payphones at absurd hours. not emergency calls either. william just wants an audience.
“henry, you’d hate this establishment.”
“the carpeting resembles a fungal outbreak...”
“they have a robotic bear that sings country music.”
“…william, why are you calling me.”
“to report vital information.”
or letters written on motel stationery in dramatic fountain-pen script—entire paragraphs about pancake syrup quality; tiny sketches of mascot designs in the margins; complaints about cheap speakers ruining perfectly good disco tracks—henry knows perfectly well these “updates” are just william entertaining himself across state lines. still, he keeps every letter tucked away somewhere. probably with the exhausted tenderness of a man who has accepted he befriended a peacock disguised as an engineer.
and with you beside him? (william would naturally drag you along without hesitation once you're in your free time).
that is where william softens into something unexpectedly warm.
because he stops performing perfection.
he becomes boyish in fragments.
dragging you by the wrist into obscure grocery stores because:
"wait, wait, they sell imported candies here!”
or suddenly steering off-road because he spotted a vintage record shop two towns back and has decided this is now the journey’s central quest. he talks constantly during drives once he feels comfortable enough. sometimes, there's something old-fashioned and warmth of some places that reminds him of nostalgia.. and his old home when he was little (not exactly lol). no more of polished speeches. only ... tangents. spirals. half-finished theories.
one moment he’s discussing animatronic joint articulation. the next he’s passionately explaining why diner coffee tastes better from chipped ceramic mugs. and somewhere during the night drive, with highway lights sliding across his face in strips of amber and blue, he starts talking about the company—the stress, investors, delays, employees and competition. the pressure sitting between his shoulder blades like invisible piano wire.
but the fascinating thing about william is how quickly he catches himself becoming too vulnerable.
you can almost see the internal curtain snap shut.
so suddenly he changes tone with theatrical smoothness:
“enough of that.”
“tell you something important...”
he pause and you waits.
“would you still love me if i became a roadside magician?”
oh.
also he would point at an aggressively ugly mascot statue outside a gas station and says:
"henry would faint on sight.”
just to make you laugh again, just to shift the atmosphere before the heaviness settles too deeply. because i think william hates feeling as though he’s burdening people. even when exhausted, he turns discomfort into entertainment. anxiety into wit. he folds tension into jokes the way some people tuck notes into books.
and the silence between you two during those drives probably becomes sacred eventually where the radio hums softly. one hand of his rests lazily on the steering wheel. his scarf smells faintly of cedar cologne and cold night air. towns pass by like forgotten stage sets.
sometimes he talks.
sometimes you do.
sometimes there is only the road unfurling endlessly ahead while william glances toward you with that small, private expression people rarely see from him. softer than his smile. almost thoughtful.
as though, for once, he enjoys arriving less than traveling.
william is absolutely unfortunate the type man who volunteers himself as tribute the moment you say you don’t like something, nodding very seriously like it’s a noble duty, and then proceeding to eat it with far more enthusiasm than necessary.
he insists it’s practical “why waste perfectly good food?”
but the truth is, he just enjoys stealing little pieces of your plate while pretending it’s an act of service.
either you leave your food unattended for even a moment, he will casually lean over and take a bite, acting like nothing happened when you return, though the evidence is very much on his lips.
he eats fast when he’s guilty, cheeks slightly puffed, trying to chew and swallow before you notice, which only makes it more obvious because he suddenly refuses to speak
you already know this man loves strawberries.
so whenever strawberry shortcake, strawberry ice cream, strawberry pastries, strawberry cream puffs, or anything remotely pink appears—his self-control begins quietly packing its bags.
"william."
"yes?" he blinked
"you ate my cake."
another blink. "did i?" (you want to launch him into the sun)
you catch him again another time, he freezes for half a second like a startled animal, then slowly resumes chewing as if confidence alone will erase the crime.
he will try to talk with his mouth full, muffled and defensive:
“mm—no, i didn’t—these were—clearly communal strawberries—”
if you call him out directly, he leans into charm to escape consequences, wiping his fingers with exaggerated elegance and offering you one last berry like a peace offering he absolutely expects you to accept. he loves feeding you things you do like, though holding it just close enough to your lips with a smug little smile, as if he’s testing whether you’ll indulge him back.
sometimes he eats the things you dislike without a word (teasingly) just quietly clearing your plate, because in his own strange way, it feels like taking care of you. other times, he kinda abuses that privilege entirely and eats things you were very much planning to finish, then acts shocked when you protest.
or when you offer him one bite of ice cream—one—and he leans in with that charming smile… then takes a full, scandalous chomp like he’s trying to erase the entire top layer in a single move. he pulls back, completely satisfied, eyes half-lidded like he’s just tasted something divine, while you stare at your now half-missing dessert.
when you protest, he blinks at you like you’re the unreasonable one.
“what? you said i could have some.”
he will absolutely go back for a second bite if you don’t guard it fast enough.
sometimes he waits for you to offer, just so he can do it again. It’s not about the ice cream anymore—it’s about the reaction.
i have a feeling william is the kind of who loves to rub his cock onto your intimate sensitive areas (cunt, ass or cock?), he loves to take it long as an foreplay, rubbing and coating the juice fluids sticks on your both's...either rub on or slap it on slightly and repeatedly (he pretty much adore how lovely you are so needy and groans about wanting he should inside you instead) i also imagine he's a soft gentle dom (as i don't really see he's a hard dom like how people portray him in the fanfic usually) who coaxes compliments out of you
he keeps on talking through it to make you compliment him
if you don't he just pauses
won't keep going unless you keep complimenting him
mmm that man such a jerky ass