Death Of Me (William Afton X Reader)

̷C̷̷h̷a̷̷p̷̷t̷̷e̷̷r̷ ̷S̷̷i̷̷x̷

Mr. Afton provided Elizabeth with some coloring pages as a distraction before turning his attention back to you.

The transition was almost jarring; his cold demeanor was still present, yet there was a newfound seriousness in his gaze, a hint that he was ready to engage in this teaching process rather than merely exert control over you.

You still couldn't believe that this entire time he had just been purposely pushing your buttons until you finally snapped. The realization gnawed at your insides, twisting into a knot of frustration and disbelief. It felt as if you had been dancing on strings, manipulated by a puppeteer who enjoyed the show.

Like you understand what he was trying to do- but it still pissed you off.

As he approached his icy gaze made you squirm, and you braced yourself for whatever was to come next, half expecting another round of sarcastic jabs or dismissive comments. But instead, he seemed focused, his brow furrowed as if he were contemplating a particularly complex problem.

"Let's get started," he said, his tone more measured, devoid of any emotion, as usual. "You need to understand and work more on the basics before we move on to anything more advanced."

You nodded, trying to mask your surprise. The shift in his demeanor left you feeling uneasy, as if the ground beneath you had shifted without warning. It was hard to reconcile this serious, almost teacher-like version of him with the man who had so often made you feel inadequate.

Hell you were still struggling to process the soft side he held for his daughter.

"First, you need to know how the components work together," he began, gesturing toward the disassembled parts of another animatronic. "Understanding the mechanics is essential. If you don't grasp this, you'll always be one step behind."

As he spoke, you found yourself hanging on his every word, the tension in the air palpable. His instructions were clear, his presence commanding. Despite your initial reluctance, a spark of interest ignited within you. This was the man behind the machines, the genius who built them, or at least helped build them, and you were determined to learn.

Yet, even as he laid out the foundation for your training, you couldn't shake the feeling that beneath this new seriousness lay the same man who had reveled in testing your patience. It was strange, disconcerting, even.

As he began to explain the components, you felt a mix of anticipation and anxiety. His demeanor was still sharp, but there was a flicker of something almost encouraging in the way he focused on you. "Let's start with the wiring," he said, picking up a bundle of colored wires. "Every color corresponds to a different function-red for power, blue for communication, green for sensors. If you don't connect them correctly, nothing will work."

You nodded, trying to absorb the information. "Okay, I think I get it," you replied, your voice steadier than you felt. You watched intently as he held up a small circuit board, meticulously explaining how each wire connected to specific ports. His hands moved with precision, showcasing a mastery that you found both impressive and intimidating.

"Now, it's your turn," he said, handing you a circuit board and a bundle of wires. "Start by connecting the red wire to the power port. Just remember: it's all about making the right connections."

Taking a deep breath, you grasped the wire, feeling the cool plastic against your skin. Your fingers trembled slightly as you approached the board. You didn't want to disappoint him, especially now that he was actually putting effort into teaching you.

"Don't overthink it," he instructed, his tone firm but devoid of sarcasm. "Just focus on what you've learned."

You concentrated hard, recalling his earlier demonstration. As you pressed the wire into place, a rush of satisfaction coursed through you. "I did it," you said softly, glancing up at him for approval.