Aug 14, 2024
The more passionate I am about a topic the louder I'll be. It's like my volume dial just keeps being turned up more and more as I keep talking.
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The more passionate I am about a topic the louder I'll be. It's like my volume dial just keeps being turned up more and more as I keep talking.
Red, eccentric, smarter than you think, neurodivergent coded characters with something to hide, hate to see me coming
The Robotics Lesson - bfd!William Afton x Reader
4825 words
Summary: What started off as a normal day of skating through the neighborhood with Micheal, quickly turned into something that you had always dreamed of, but never would have thought would come true.
A/N: long time so see :) i have the username for a reason ig. school has been kicking my butt lately, but this stupid old man got me out of my slump. i sort of went crazy over him all over again when fnaf 2 came out so here you go. as always, plz read the tags and enjoy!
AO3: here
The wind blew through your hair and on your face as you drifted along the asphalt, leaning to a slight right and left when needed. You carefully snuck a look behind you to see if Micheal was catching up as you brought your foot down to gain speed. He eventually did, coming up beside you with a smug smile as the two of you flew down the street of your neighborhood.
Skateboarding was your and Micheal’s main way of travel, despite both of you having your licenses. Every summer since you were 12, you and Micheal had spent your summers skating and causing trouble. Now, both of you were about to graduate, and here you still were.
You gave yourself another push, picking up to a decent speed. Your hair was going crazy, getting caught on your mouth and eyelashes. You put your arms out to keep balance, but it was to no avail as you felt yourself start to topple. The board seemed to slip out from under you as you crashed onto the road. You heard it continue on down the street as your face met the ground, giving you a sharp sting across your cheek.
“Whoa! Dude, you alright?”
Micheal gracefully got off his board and grabbed it as he ran up to you. You carefully brought yourself up in a push-up position and let out soft grunts and groans as you turned to look at him.
“Y-yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, just a wipe out.”
You sat up, facing him as he let out a hiss at the sight of your cheek. He extended his hand to help you up, and you gladly accepted. You finally got to your feet and wiped under your nose, leaving a train of blood behind on the back of your hand.
“Damn…”, you thought out loud.
“You wanna go back to my place? I’ve got band-aids and stuff.”
“Uh, yeah, sure.”
You were always a little iffy about going to Micheal’s house. While you had known him and his family for a very long time, you were still a little intimidated by them. Well, not his whole family, more one person, William.
It didn’t matter how long you had known him for; he still always had a certain aura around him that made you feel…small. Like prey almost. His gaze was intense. The way he spoke was so confident, like he already knew everything you were going to say, and it was all wrong. He carried himself with a certain stature that immediately alerted everyone he had entered the room.
His arms were strong. He almost always had his sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms. They were heavily scarred and had silver hair that grew around them like vines in a garden. His hands were strong too, calloused with veins peeking out that stretched across the rest of his arm.
Every once in a while, you got the privilege of feeling them when he would wrap them around your shoulders for a small hug or a pat on the back when talking about school at dinner parties or neighborhood cookouts. Another thing you noticed was how he ran his fingers through his hair. He did it consistently, although it always stayed in perfect place. He was always pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and crossing his arms, both things you had concurred were nervous habits.
For being twice your age, he was a very attractive man. This made talking to him even more of a challenge. Nobody knew about the way you looked at William, not even Micheal. Especially not Micheal. He always had a rough relationship with his father; you knew that better than anyone. And besides, it’s not like you had a chance.
The two of you arrived at the Afton doorstep after a short walk. The purple door was all too familiar, especially after the HOA fiasco regarding its color. Micheal opened the door, and the two of you left your boards at the door. He brought you into the kitchen, where he told you to wait while he got the bandages. You politely waited, rocking back and forth on your heels.
Just then, you heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall.
“Micheal?”
His voice was sweet yet rough, like fresh whiskey. It had a certain gravel to it that carried down the hallway and into the kitchen, where it lingered.
“He’s in the bathroom, it’s just me.”
The footsteps picked up, quickly reaching the doorway as he leaned against it. He crossed his arms as he always did, and you couldn’t help but eye his arms. There stood the man who was far too familiar. He put on his smug smile, the same one that Mike had. His eyebrow raised as he looked at you, scanning your body.
“Damn. You alright, kiddo? You look pretty banged up.”
He moved closer to you, his eyes landing on your cut and the blood dripping from it.
“Yeah, I’m fine, just gotta get patched up, is all. Micheal’s grabbing me some band-aids.”
“Sweetheart, you’re gonna need more than band-aids.”
He brought his hand up to your cheek, carefully not to touch your cut. He moved your face so he could see it better, turning your jaw to either side to make sure he could see it all. He tucked your hair behind your ear before crossing his arms once more.
“I’m afraid to say it, but we’re gonna have to clean that. I’ve got alcohol in my workshop, come on.”
You hate to admit it, but in that moment you completely forgot about Micheal. You didn’t hesitate to go back with him. He grabbed a couple of clean rags from a drawer and pointed down the hall. At the end of it was a dark room with a padlock. As a child, you were told a million times to stay away from that room; you were barely even allowed in the hallways for anything other than the bathroom.
Now here you were, being personally escorted by William into the mysterious room. When you walked in, you were hit with the overwhelming scent of oil, sawdust, and sweat. It was dark except for a single light bulb that hung from the ceiling, illuminating all kinds of blueprints and tools. The main thing, though, was a large helmet sort of thing, clearly designed for an animatronic.
It was exposed to the endoskeleton, with creepy bulging eyes and large teeth with no lips. All the underneath bits that would haunt someone that didn’t grow up seeing this kind of stuff at William’s house all the time. The rest of the walls were lined with every kind of tool and measurement of wrench, along with Freddy’s posters and post-it notes with reminders, "remember to get Lizzie from school.”
You stood politely once more as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. You couldn’t help but admire the plans for new machines. You could see why he worked so hard on his restaurants; he clearly loved what he did.
“Mr. Afton, I have to say, these designs are super impressive. Why don’t you use more of them at Freddy’s?”
He turned the look at the blueprints you were admiring and let out a small chuckle, one that came from deep in his throat.
“Sweetie, those are just prototypes from…ages ago. Our standards now are completely different.”
You gave a small nod, feeling a small blush rise to your cheeks from embarrassment.
“Although, I will say I’m surprised. I wasn’t aware you could understand blueprints like that. Are you into engineering?”
You gave a small shrug while you looked back and forth from him and the blueprints.
“You could say that. I was looking into robotics after high school. I find it fascinating. Y’know, taking things apart-“
“And putting them back together again.” he finished for you.
He let out an impressed chuckle and shook his head as he stepped closer to you.
“Kid, I had no idea you were into that. You sound a lot like me when I was your age.”
You let out a laugh to try and hide your excitement. You had never gotten this kind of approval from William. He placed his hand on your shoulder and rubbed it back and forth. You flashed your eyes from his hand to his face, having to crane your neck a bit to look up at him.
“Y’know, maybe you could work with me sometime on things. Little robotics lesson. How does that sound?”
Was this real? You were scared he could hear your heart pounding from inside your chest.
“I-I’d love to! Thank you, Mr. Afton.”
“William, Sweetheart.”
You gave him a firm nod, and he gave one right back, along with a smile. He walked away, over to his desk to look for the alcohol.
“Now where did that thing go…” he said, seemingly to himself.
He searched through drawers for a moment before finally pulling out a small white box with a red cross on the front. He clicked it open and pulled out a small bottle of liquid and grabbed one of the clean rags. He turned to look at you as he patted his work seat, the kind that mechanics have that spins around. You walked over and sat down, a smile still lingering on your face.
He poured the liquid on the rag, completely soaking it. He crouched down to be on your level and squinted as he analyzed the cut.
“Alright, sweetie, I gotta warn you this is gonna sting. A lot. You just got power through it, alright?”
You simply nodded in response and sat with your hands in your lap. He looked down at you and carefully grabbed your jaw. His touch was gentle, like he might break you if he was too aggressive. While he tilted your head with one hand, he started to dab the liquid on the other hand. An immediate hiss left your lips, and you closed your eyes.
You closed your mouth and tensed up your shoulders, holding in small groans of pain. Your hands retracted above your thighs, slightly shaking.
“I’m sorry, honey, I know. I know.”
While your eyes were closed, you could feel his other hand slowly intertwining itself with yours, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. Oddly enough, it calmed you. The surprise of his hand in yours distracted you from the pain. Your lips slightly parted as you let out small breaths.
“You’re doing great, honey. Almost there.”
His gentleness was something you had never seen before. You had known him all these years, yet this small interaction seemed to change your entire relationship. You felt as his dabbing became lighter and eventually came to a stop altogether. Your eyes fluttered open to look at him, a small sheen of tears glazed over them.
“Thank you. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I got so worked up over tha-“
“You’re fine kiddo, you don’t need to apologize. You did great. Much better than Mike ever did, god, really shows you where Evan got it from.”
The joke was small, but it still got a laugh out of you. You sniffled a bit before wiping your eyes. He turned around once more to retrieve a large bandage. It was one of those square ones that people usually put on their knees. He grabbed some gauze as well, but he ripped it in half. He placed the small bit of it on the bandage before lifting it up and removing the film to reveal the sticky part.
“Alright, just sit still for a second kiddo.”
His tongue peeked out from his lips in concentration and his eyes squinted once more. He looked over you, straightening his posture as he carefully placed the bandage over the cut. It landed perfectly as it needed to, covering the entire thing. However, a small bit of alcohol dripped out at the last second.
It slipped down your cheek, following the crevices of your face like a river and landing on your bottom lip. He dried his hands off before noticing it, and carefully brought his thumb up to wipe it away. His eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes. That gaze of his, it always had the same effect, no matter the circumstances.
He looked down at you with those dark eyes, they had a ravenous look to them. His hand stayed on your jaw, leaving a singe in its wake at any movement. He brought your head up to face him and he tilted his own, almost analyzing you. You cautiously brought your own hand up, hesitatingly placing it on his wrist.
“Mr. Afton, er, William…?”
“Mhm?”
His voice was somehow deeper now, coming from the very back of his throat and sending out a wave of vibrations that you could feel, even just sitting next to him. Or rather, beneath him.
“I-…well I-“
“Y’know, I always thought there was something different about you, hon.”
His hand left your face and went back to the default position of being crossed in front of him.
“You’re mature for your age. You’re not like those other girls at school, no. You’re smart.”
The compliment brought another pink haze to your face, along with an uncomfortable smile, almost subconscious.
“In fact, you’re a diamond in the rough, dear. There’s kids like Micheal that are out there wasting any small amount of potential they had. We wouldn’t want bad apples getting to someone like you.”
He walked around you, standing behind you now. One hand came up on your shoulder, the other came up to your head and began playing with your hair, almost petting you.
“We wouldn’t want someone ruining you. You need someone to take care of you. Someone with experience.”
The hand that was on your shoulder ran down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, sending a shiver down your spine. It finally landed on your waist, before turning you around to face him.
“You truly are special, dear.”
His pointer finger lifted your chin up and with that, his lips were on yours like magnets. A rush of blood washed over your face while your hands shook. You truly couldn’t believe it. Something that you thought was just a childhood fantasy was actually happening. You could feel the scratch of his beard against your chin.
Slowly but surely, your own hand came up to his neck, cupping beneath his ear. It felt like anything you had ever felt before. The heat mixed with the scandal, the fog of lust, the morality of it all. It only intensified the feeling that was spreading throughout your body. You knew it was wrong, you shouldn’t want it. But you did. You wanted it. You needed it.
It only ended after a moment, he carefully pulled away. His hand moved like ivy growing up a wall, his finger covering your whole cheek instead of just your jaw. His eyes looked down at you and they seemed to freeze you in your place, like you were an animal backed into a corner. He seemed like he was almost asking for permission, but you both already knew what the answer was.
You slowly lifted yourself off the chair, bringing yourself up to him. Your hand snaked around his neck before landing on the back of it and bringing your lips up to his. You were cautious, unsure. This was something you had never done before, even with kids your own age. It’s just something you never thought to occupy yourself with before. But when you were here with him everything was different. It felt like nothing else mattered and you could be here with him forever.
His hand came up to your waist and guided you, letting you know you were doing good. By letting you take the lead for a moment he was showing you what he wanted, and how he would get it. Without knowing it, you had practically latched onto him, your nails digging into the back of his neck. You didn’t know you wanted it so bad until you had it and now it was like it was being dangled on a string in front of you.
He grabbed you by your hips and lifted you up onto his workbench, swiftly clearing everything out of the way with his arm beforehand. His lips never left yours throughout the endeavor and his hands stayed on your hips even after he sat you down. You had tilted your head to the side at this point, trying to kiss as much of him as possible now that you had gotten the hang of it. Suddenly, he started moving his mouth and began working on your neck. He was hitting sweet spots you didn’t even know you had, working crevices of your neck and leaving purple tattoos in his wake.
At this point, it was an out of body experience for you. Your instincts had taken over, pulling him closer and wrapping your legs around his waist without you even thinking about it. Your hand had worked its way up from the back of his neck to his head, running itself through his silvering hair. Before you could even think about your next move, you heard a jingling noise. You peeked down to see him fondling with his belt, quickly removing it from his waist.
A wave of warmth washed over you, a sense of joy and curiosity cutting through any fear you might have had. You realized what was happening, and you wanted it really really bad. You felt ashamed. You shouldn’t want this, it was your best friend's dad. He had known you since you were a kid. But the both of you knew there wasn’t any stopping, not any time soon. You slowly started to unbutton your top, trying to discreetly take it off.
You could feel him chuckle, it passed through his mouth onto your neck and left a burn. You weren’t sure if you were doing it right, doing what he wanted you to.
“I’ve got it, hon. You just…enjoy it.”
From there, his rough hands made their way onto your waist. They sat for a moment, feeling the small dimples on your back. His thumbs finally hooked onto the waist of your pants, carefully and sexily removing them from your legs. He was slow and steady, like he was revealing some kind of prize. He looked up at you from your ankles, where your pants hung for a moment before being discarded to the floor. He slowly rose back up, the light catching in his glasses. You grabbed the end of his tie, pulling him back in with a small giggle.
Your face was washed pink, but you couldn’t care anymore. You could feel his bulge pressing against the inside of your thigh as his hand palmed your breast through your bra. His other hand traveled down from your neck, trailing down your chest and torso before landing between your thighs. Everything seemed to freeze for a moment, your breath hitched and your shoulders tensed.
“You ever done this before, sweetheart?”
You feverishly shook your head, not yet daring to open your eyes. There was that chuckle of his again.
“It’ll feel weird at first. I’ve got you kiddo.”
You slowly opened your eyes, meeting his with a small smile. You gave him a small nod and you felt his middle finger push past your panties. Before you could even prepare yourself, it sunk in. You took in a large gasp, burying your head in his neck. The cold metal of his ring stung against the heat of your core. His finger slowly began to pump, only a couple of times before leaving you empty to circle your clit. Your breath shuddered, bringing your head up to look up at the ceiling.
The sensation sent shockwaves throughout your body, a strange yet invited sense of electricity. He began pumping once more, this time with an additional finger. It stretched you out, leaving you with an endearing pain. You hissed and moaned at the same time, creating an amalgamation of noises. He continued to move in and out, before you started to feel a new sensation, like you were a string being pulled tight. Your breathing became quicker, your heartbeat got faster. Your breath started to get hitched in your throat as you tried to react to the feeling.
He noticed, decently quick. His fingers retracted, leaving you feeling empty and almost disheveled. You looked up at him with big eyes, trying to plead without saying something that would ruin it. Your hand came down and landed on his chest.
“William-“
“You like that?”
You immediately nodded, preferring to let him do the talking for now.
“Well then, let’s not keep you waiting.”
With that, he pulled out his length. The size of it was unlike anything you could have imagined. Veins traveled down from his waist onto his cock. You watched as he lined himself up with your opening, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Finally, he impaled you. Your nails dug into his back, with your forehead landing on his chest. You felt more fulfilled than you ever had before, both literally and figuratively.
Almost subconsciously, your back arched. One of your hands worked its way down to his chest, before grabbing onto his tie for support. His thrusts were quite slow at first, letting you get used to the feeling. While you were still stretched out, probably more so than before, it was a feeling you had begun to appreciate. It added a sort of flavor to the mix of feelings you were already experiencing.
You could hear as his breath slightly hitched as he began moving in and out of you.
“Fuck…sweetie, you’re so tight.”
To your surprise, the praise continued, which only amplified your pleasure. Everything that he had said about you tonight showed something. It showed he had been looking at you for longer than you had ever thought. He had noticed things about you that no one else had. He had been observing you the same way that you were him.
His thrusts increased in speed in a way that he couldn’t seem to control. You could hear as grunts and whimpers escaped his lips. As his pace increased, so did your enjoyment. You slowly became more vocal, something you could tell he liked by the small smile that flashed on his face every time one left your mouth. Eventually though, his hand came up and clasped around your mouth, creating a smacking sound.
“I’m sorry, baby, but we can’t have anyone hearing you. They might ruin our fun.”
Your brain couldn't even function enough to fully compute a response. You simply let out an inaudible jumble of words that vaguely resembled an “Mhm”. One hand continued to tug on his tie while the other continued to run through his hair. After a certain amount of years, it had become brittle
and rough, similar to his personality. Every once and a while, his thrusts would hit a specific spot, causing your hips to buck, slapping against his own.
The feeling was so intense. Without thinking, you tore away from his hand and brought your mouth up to his shoulder, clamping down, digging your teeth into his rough skin. This rewarded you with a pick up in pace and ongoing chuckles.
“Well someone’s having a good time.”
His hand came down and landed on your waist, steering your hips to go along with his movements. This showed good to the both of you, allotting noises from both mouths. His other hand came up and began to run through your hair, becoming a vice when thrusts got sloppy. Over time, they became quicker. The heat that was radiating off of him was falling onto you, creating a dewy sheen in the dim light.
His grunts and groans became more common, even turning into hisses and moans. His thrusts became less calculated. His hand had become locked on a certain handful of hair, gradually pulling it tighter. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, the knot in your stomach pulled tighter. Your eyes snapped open and your heart somehow started beating even faster.
His other hand on your thigh was clamped on, sure to leave marks. You felt different now, like there was something you were chasing. You moved your hips back and forth, trying to increase the friction. Suddenly, your vision went white. You felt like you were floating. Your grip tightened on him, truly digging your nails into him like claws on its prey.
Your mouth spilled incoherent babbles as your breath spilled out of your lungs. You looked at him, your eyes met. His gaze was intense, like he was staring right past you and into your soul. It felt like he knew everything about you, and you about him. It felt like the two of your paths had truly intersected and became one. After a moment of heaven, your eyes flashed between open and shut as you tried to catch your breath.
You were still processing this feeling when you felt him remove himself. As he left you, you let out a shutter, resting your head on his shoulder. Your hands slide down from his neck to land on his chest. His shirt was damp from the sweat the two of you had produced, yet he still smelled amazing. The air around you had a certain haze to it, a warmth that made it hard to move away from him.
You could hear the zip of his pants before you felt him cleaning you up. You spotted the box of tissues that he had brought up to the desk. He helped sit you up properly on the bench. He stared at you for a moment, even squinting his eyes. He brought his hand up and tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear before he placed a kiss on your forehead. He sat there for a time, just letting his lips leave a small sting from the heat. You couldn’t help but stare up at him in amazement. No one had ever made you feel like that in your whole life, and here he was cleaning you up like it was a casual thing, like it didn't feel like your souls just intersected for a moment. The small amount of light that there was was hitting the back of his head, forming a sort of halo. You could see the particles floating through the air, something you assumed was mainly sawdust.
“William, that was…”
You opened your mouth and waited for the words to come out, but they never did. When words failed you, William didn’t.
“I know.”
His hand stayed on your head, petting your hair.
“Good work, kid.”
You smiled up at him, grateful for his words.
“I'll see you around. Be careful, we wouldn't want you getting hurt again,” he said, with a sickening smirk on his face.
His hands landed on your waist, lifting you off the desk and back onto the ground. Your knees almost buckled, your hand instinctively grabbing onto his bicep. You both let out a small giggle, your eyes meeting and his face softening. His hand went to your elbow, guiding you back to the door. And with that, your moment of glory was over. You walked through that doorway, and the hallway seemed colder than it was on your way in. Your mind was a mess, replaying moments in your head over and over again. Recalling the ways he touched you, the ways he held you. The simple thought of it was intoxicating enough.
Breaking you from your fantasy was the calling of your name from the living kitchen. You rushed in, trying to hide the guilt on your face. The boy looked almost worried, with a jumble of medical supplies falling out of his arms.
“Hey, where did you go? I left for like minutes, and when I came back, you were gone.”
His tone wasn’t angry; it sounded more confused than anything. In contrast to his father, Micheal hadn’t always been the brightest.
“I was just…looking around. I’ve never really looked around. Just curious, is all.”
His expression became even more confused, and his eyes honed in on your cheek. He clearly had stopped listening to what you were saying.
“H-how’d you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Your cheek. It's fixed.”
“Oh.”
You brought your hand up to your cheek, carefully touching the bandage and trying to think of an excuse. You let out a nervous chuckle as you looked around.
“You had some stuff in the kitchen. Found it in a drawer.”
“Oh. So, you good?”
“Yeah. Wanna go?”
“Let's do it.”
Does anyone else struggle with volume control?
I'm like 99% sure it's neurodivergency related, but sometimes I wonder if some of how it presents these days is specifically masking related
As a kid, my volume control issues were almost always related to me being too loud. I wasn't trying to be too loud, I just had no awareness of how loud or quiet my voice was.
Nowadays, it's the opposite, I'm always told to speak up or that I'm being too quiet. I know some of it is anxiety related but I also wonder if it could be masking related.
I got picked on and bullied for my neurodivergent traits all the time growing up. Everyone (especially my 'friends') labeled me as annoying, and my loudness was one of the big reasons why.
As I got older, I started masking most of my neurodivergent traits in an attempt to be liked and accepted, I didn't even realize that's what I had been doing until I was 18. I can't help but wonder if my switch from too loud to too quiet is related to the masking.
I'm still loud, but it's only when I unmask (which I mainly only do by myself or with my bsf), and when I do there are still lots of times when I talk much louder than I need too.
When I'm not by myself or with my bsf, I'm very quiet. I'm constantly asked to speak up and have to repeat myself 3 or 4 times before what I'm saying can actually be heard/understood.
My mom gets really frustrated because of it.
I don't know how to make her understand that's it's not intentional. I have to give myself a pep talk in my head sometimes because I'm trying to make sure I talk at normal volume. There are times when I open my mouth to talk, and even I can barely hear my voice. I don't know why volume is so hard for me.
Sometimes it feels like there's just a randomize button on my volume. One sentence is barely audible and the next is damn near yelling.
People get really frustrated with me because of it, and that just makes me feel worse. I'm already frustrated with myself because of it, I don't need other people getting annoyed with me while I'm trying my best to talk normally. It's just not as easy and automatic for me as it is (or at least seems to be) for other people.
I just remembered a story from when I was younger. It was a combination of me accidentally unmasking and my horrible volume control (which I actually still have no control over).
One time when I was in 5th grade, we were playing board games (it was game day). I got excited and I unintentionally started yelling. The thing is, I'd normally only speak in a whisper. Everyone was saying, "She spoke...!", "I can hear her!" and "She can be loud?"
My friend muttered, "You guys haven't seen anything yet..."
And FOR SOME REASON, I then said, "Loud...? You want me to be loud??? THIS IS MY LOUD VOICE!!!!" at the top of my lungs. The entire class was quiet for like five seconds. It was so embarrassing. I calmed down (and by calmed down, I mean that I didn't say a word) for like, three minutes but then I started getting excited again.
having a hyperfixation is awesome until i try to infodump and all of the sudden im almost yelling and I can’t get more than a sentence out
One thing about me is that when I'm really tired I have 0 volume control everything I say is either whispered or shouted and it's becoming a problem.
[id: a light gray userbox with a gray border, and gray text that reads “this user has very, very low volume control.” the second very is in all caps. on the left is an image of the volume control for a phone. /end id]