FNAF Oneshots Book 1

Vincent x Male Reader

(Requested by @Springtrap7777 a while ago)

The sweat on your skin made your clothes stick to you as you trudged back to your car. Summer vacation. A time where you got kicked out by your parents and told to get out and experience the real world. You wouldn't start back into university until the fall, but your parents were tired of you staying in their house at 20, a junior in college. So, you packed up your things and moved into the closest and most affordable apartment complex you could find. Luckily, there was a room available to you, and it was the perfect fit for one person.
"God," You complained, grabbing the third box from your trunk. In total, you had four boxes. Two for clothes, one filled with your books for your courses, and one for your electronics. "I hate summer..."
"That's a shame," A voice replied to you. "Summer's pretty fun once you get over the heat." You turned around, seeing a violet-hued man towering over you. His white eyes locked with yours as you adjusted your grip on your box. "I'm your neighbor, Vincent."
"I'm (Y/N)." You said as your eyes scanned your new neighbor's features. Chiseled jawline, pure white eyes, and sweat just barely glistening off of his skin, reminding you of a sparkly movie vampire. In no time, Vincent was lifting the box out of your arms, carrying it into the apartment complex.
"Which room are you in?" He called back to you with a chuckle in his voice. The question knocked you out of your trance and you jumped back into reality, slightly cursing at the fact that the sun blasted you in the eyes. Vincent was blocking the sun with his tall form when he was in front of you, adding to your previous daze as the golden outline added an ethereal quality to this man.
"Second f-floor!" You yelled, grabbing your lightest box from your car and speed walking upstairs.

Room 201 is what you called home. Your footsteps echoed off of the empty eggshell walls as you and Vincent walked around, assessing your surroundings. It was a one bed, studio apartment, with a small kitchen, and huge windows that overlooked the downtown area. You could imagine where you'd put your bed, your couch, your television, etc.
"Well," Vincent began walking to the door. "I'm across the hall if you wanna chat, neighbor."
"Oh, alright. See ya around, Vincent."
"Yep. See ya, (Y/N)."

Soon, you settled in well. You had a small TV, with a decently stocked kitchen, some art on the walls, and a mattress for the time being. Your bed frame wouldn't be here for another couple of weeks and you were tired of sleeping on your couch. Currently, you were attempting to cook some breakfast for yourself, bacon and eggs. You considered yourself a decent cook. You weren't an Iron Chef, but you knew how to make something and make it taste good. But, you've never cooked bacon in the oven before. Your mother has in the past, and it always worked well for her, so you decided to try to do what she did. Your eggs were done, and now it was time to grab the bacon from the heated oven where it resided. As you opened it, the smell of perfectly cooked strips of pork invaded your nostrils (I'm sorry if anyone's a vegan or vegetarian). The grease from the fat was crackling and sizzling, giving your eyes and ears a seemingly sexual experience. Your mouth watered as your oven-mitted hand grabbed the Pyrex pan that the bacon was cooked in, getting ready to pull it from the oven into the cooler air of your apartment. But, the heat hit your fingertips and shocked you, causing you to drop the pan and have the bacon and grease hit the heated oven racks, flames starting to be birthed from the heated grease.
"Oh shit!" You tried to grab the pan from the low rising flames and yanked your hand back. Your mitt was on fire. "Oh SHIT!" The flames got bigger. "Water, right? Water puts out fires!" You grabbed a bowl from your sink and filled it up with cold water, attempting to douse the flames with what usually outs it. Your oven was engulfed with orange and yellow fire as the flames rose, smoke filling your nose and your fire alarm, as well as its sprinklers, going off. "OH SHIT!" You rushed over to Vincent's room, since he was the first one on your mind. Before you even knocked, the door flew open, Vincent in nothing but a pair of low rising shorts, holding a bag of salt. The two of you rushed into your apartment, your neighbor slinging the salt onto the flames as you tried to shield the fire from being fueled by any more water. Soon, the fire died down and you were left soaking, clothes sticking to your back, with a charred oven. Your face heated up as you pushed your mop of hair back out of your face.
"That's a way to say good morning, huh?" Vincent joked.
"Yeah. Yeah it is..."
"I have breakfast over at my apartment. You want some?" You sighed and looked at Vincent, trying as hard as possible to keep your eyes on his face. You nodded. "Let's go, (Y/N)." You trailed behind him, giving into temptation and sneaking a peek at his butt as you walked. "I felt your eyes on my ass, you know."
"Liar. You can't feel crap like that." You chuckled.
"You just told on yourself, buddy." You sighed and closed the door behind you, locking it as you made your way inside.

Hi. I'm awful at updating. How are you?