Fredbear Stockholm (YanderePurpleGuy X Reader)

Two's better than one

*
As the age of twelve came and went, there were three things you always thought were true;

You were invincible, you knew everything, and you could take on anything.

You had worked up the courage to skip school by using a public phone to call the office. You were good at impersonating your father's voice.

Staying home wasn't an option, and faking sick never worked. So you took a stroll around town, away from areas that were usually populated with cops. 

You meandered around a few places, avoiding peoples' radars. On the way you passed a small ally and spotted another kid around your age, leaning against the wall. He picked his head up when sensing you, but relaxed when seeing it was just another kid.

He smiled even, and approached. A feature on him that absorbed your attention was his [Hair Color] hair resembling yours, but it was long and dyed with purple streaks. You thought it looked cool. This kid must've had awesome parents.

"You playing hooky, too?" he was first to break the ice. 

"Uh...yea." you said cautiously. Everything seemed okay so far.

"Cool! None of my friends wanted to join me, so I did it alone. I...got nervous earlier 'cause I think there was a cop following me." He laughed. He came off as innocuous and you loosened up. 

"So, what's your name?" you asked. He gave it politely and stated he was thirteen.

"That's cool. I'll be thirteen in a few more months. My name's [First Name]." 

"Nice name. What school you go to?" 

You told him and he didn't seem impressed.

"I know that one, but I don't go there. My school is one of your rivals. But I don't give a damn about that." he said.

"So then, [First Name], why don't we ditch this shitty ally and go hang? C'mon, two's always better than one." he offered undauntedly.  

"Hell yeah!" you agreed, and the two of you carefully eluded to the outer parts of town, destination unclear. You were only following the latter, who was strongly leading.

"So where are we going?" you finally asked.

"Fazbear's," he answered.

"Why there?" 

"My friends heard a rumor. Apparently Fazbear's dishes out free pizza and sweets to older kids if they don't have their parents with them. I wanna see if it's legit." he explained. Eventually the very well-known building was in sight, and the two of you began to race.

You managed to win, and he was out of breath before he even got to the entrance.

"Shit, kid...you're fast!" He panted before the two of you gazed into the doors' glass windows. The sun's glare made it hard to see directly inside. You guessed it was empty. The other kid kicked away a few cigarette butts laying on the ground.

"Gross," you muttered.

"Not gross. Smoking's tuff. You oughta try it sometime." he advised. You were ambivalent but stored his words. You put an ear to the door, wondering if perchance anything inside could be heard, such as the band.

Silence.

All confidence began to ebb, and seeing only your reflection in the oblong glass sent a mild chill. 

"Maybe...maybe we shouldn't do this, man. Maybe we should just hang out in one of the fields over there." You tried, but the young teen had an undying determination in his face.

"Nah, dude! I didn't come all this way to puss-out!"

You stayed put and tried cupping your hands to see in better. The windows were too tinted.

"Here, I'll go in and check things out. If I come bursting through the doors, you'll know to run with me and get the hell outta here. If I come and get you, then you'll know everything's cool. Sound good?" 

A small knot enmeshed in your stomach, but you didn't want to seem like a coward. 

"Sounds cool." you finally agreed. 

He pulled on the heavyish doors. The cold atmosphere inside blew out like an icy breeze, sending goosebumps onto every inch of your body. 

You took a step to the side, away from the entrance. If an angry confrontation was heard you just may dip out and save your own ass—the good ole every-man-for-himself plan.

Two minutes. Nothing.

Five minutes. Nothing.

Staring down at the concrete, you began randomly counting to keep patience.

Seven minutes. Nothing.

               What in the hell was taking him so long?? 

Ten minutes had passed since he'd gone inside. And nothing.

What if everything he assumed was true...And he no longer wanted to share the rewards? What if this was some kind of test or joke?

Mild anger swept over and you put both your hands back on the door's glass. One slid down and grabbed hold of its handle. Your innards were coiling. So badly you wanted to open the door and stomp in, but the rest of you screamed to stay outside. 

Your fingers let go of the handle. 

In total it'd been almost twenty minutes and still nothing. It shouldn't've been taking him this long. You chewed on your lip and looked around the vicinity.

There was a distant sound, coming from the back of the building. 

You were originally hesitant. But it would't hurt to take just a quick look . . . You sprinted down the side of the restaurant, noises louder. 

               He must've been around the corner.

Your insides heated again as you got ready to confront him.

"Hey! What the hell took you so long! I was waiting for—" you turned the corner and stopped instantly. 

You saw a dumpster and...a yellow Bonnie. He'd been peering into it (or digging inside) before turning and locking gazes. There seemed to be a flaring, wild look in the person's eyes. But after taking hard notice in you, they softened. The giant rabbit began to walk forward. You said nothing.

"Oh, why howdy therr!" Bonnie's southern voice.

Your attitude returned:

"You don't have to talk to me like that. Do I look like I'm seven?"

They'd nothing to say to this. 

"Where's my friend?" you inquired.

"I sent him home. I told him to go back to school like a good kid. Which is what you should do, too." Bonnie answered, this time in a more normal voice. 

"But I don't want to. I want to hang out here." you said, though lying. Bonnie came closer, eyes dark and contemplating. He stood over you oppressively. 

"Get outta here." he ordered, and you found yourself turning around and running off back in the direction you came from.

You were never sure where the other kid went. Perhaps escorted out by "Bonnie" through the back, though it was still puzzling on why he never came back for you. Perhaps he shared that same every-man-for-himself plan. But if there was one thing most interesting about this experience, it was that you swore "Bonnie" had muttered your name before you ran off . . .