"𝑾𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒓" - William Afton x reader

Chapter Twenty Four

You couldn't possibly get more flustered at this point, but feel the strong need to defend yourself.

"As if I would ever think such a thing! William, I swear I would never even lay in your arms!"

His face contorts at your words, a sting of hurt mixed in his amusement.

"Ouch, love."

"Well, you know you have done unspeakable things."

He sighs, placing one hand on the back of your seat as he backs the car out of the driveway.

"I suppose I deserve that."

Soon enough, the two of you arrive to pick up Michael, spotting him notice the car from the school's front doors.

"Hello dad and y/n!" he beams excitedly, tossing his schoolbag into the backseat.

"Hey Mikey!" you smile, turning around to face him.

A delighted expression sweeps his face, his blue eyes closing briefly as he leans his head back against the seat.

"I'm so glad it's Friday!" he exclaims, noticeably bouncing in place.

"And all day, everyone was talking about the possible snow this weekend!"

His eyes light up as he speaks, glancing from you to the raindrops outside his window.

"I know! Perfect for the weekend, huh?"

♡~~~♡

The rest of the afternoon is spent chatting and working, with you spending time with Michael while William keeps occupied with some kind of work over the phone.

"Show me, Michael!" you plead, nearly doubled over in laughter.

You seat yourself next to him on the living room rug, laughing harder as he covers his face in embarrassment.

"Come on, it can't be that bad!"

"Oh but it is," he groans, tightly clutching the photograph you so desperately want to see.

"It was the absolute worst haircut ever, I don't know what I was thinking!"

His face contorts as he thinks back, cringing at his most embarrassing memory, but he lightheartedly laughs at your interest.

"Okay okay," he sighs, hesitantly releasing the photo from his chest.

Your hand involuntarily rises to your mouth as you see a much younger Michael with an awful bowl cut and asymmetrical bangs, your lungs burning with laughter.

"Oh my..." you gasp, slight noises escaping your lips from your unsuccessful attempt to keep a straight face.

Both of you erupt into laughter in the moment following, tears beginning to well in your eyes at the sight of him burying his head into a pillow.

"There!" Michael exclaims, taking the photo and slapping it facedown onto the coffee table.

"I showed you, now it's my turn!"

You lift one hand to your chest to steady your breathing, biting back further laughs from the picture in your memory as Michael thinks to himself.

For most of the afternoon, casual conversation between the two of you has turned into a game of some kind, with fun and sometimes personal questions asked alternately.

Light seeps into the living room from the several soft lamps and nearby kitchen, but the dark pouring rain and evening shade dims the setting.

Perhaps it's all the shallow and lighthearted questions he has already asked, or a burst of boldness from the dim lighting, but the playfully mischievous glint in his eyes indicates he is thinking of more interesting questions to ask.