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You should TOTALLY do a fic (micheal afton x reader pre-scoop)
where they got in some sort of argument and reader is upset with mike and he is like desperate to get them to forgive him but the reader is very petty about it and has literally (if she is alive here) complained to elizabeth about him and they would both trash talk him behind his back until reader would eventually forgive him
The Past in a Brown Paperbag
Michael Afton x GN!Reader
Note: Thank you so much for this awesome request Anon! Since it was a bit vague, I took some very creative liberties. I apologize that this isn't exactly what you requested, I'm a sucker for angst. I hope you enjoy anyway! <3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Synopsis: The past lingers, clinging to our memories, our moments, and our memorabilia. For Michael, it was all too much. The house, his job, his furniture, his clothing. The past wouldn't give him a moment of rest, a moment of present peace. Old habits die hard, but trust dies just as easily.
Warnings: Alcoholism, ooc Michael(when is he not </3), one use of Y/N, Pre-Scoop Michael, takes place during SL, supernatural elements, unresolved emotional tension, Bite of 83' occures before SL
Proof Read: Skimmed
Word Count: 2.7k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Seriously, Mike?" A brown paper bag was clutched tightly between their fingers, the top of a glass bottle peeking from the crumpled opening. A man sat slouched in a rather outlandish arm chair, one hand gripping the arm rest as the other was splayed across his face.
"Nothing to say, huh? We're partners Michael. Why would you try and hide this from me again?"
They paused, searching his obscured face for answers.
"You don't trust me, do you?" He didn't respond. "Of course, what was I expecting? An explanation? An excuse? Can he just talk to me for once?!"
A heavy silence surronded the couple, Michael anxiously tapping his lanky fingers against the patterned fabric. "Listen it's just- this new job is killing me." He began, moving to stand infront of his spouse of two years. "You don't need me bringing my worries home."
His gaze was fixed on them, their distant gaze mildly disturbing.
"So you turn to booze instead?"
They tried to understand, tried to accept the fact that deceit and isolation were baked into his bones, but it still hurt. It hurt to be shut out by your own husband.
This was more than just the alchohol... so much more than that.
Michael inched closer, hands moving outwards as he did so.
He knew why they were so lost in thought. But for their sake, he couldn't answer the questions that plagued their clueless mind, kept them up at night.
Maybe he was selfish, deceptive. Michael didn't care.
He loved them, and that's all that mattered in his tattered mind.
Michael so desperatly wanted to provide what little comfort he could, attempting to embrace his love... but they stopped him.
"Michael if you can't- They didn't want to finish that sentence. "Just.. not right now, okay?"
"Love, no..-" They placed a hand on his chest, pushing him away.
"Don't, just don't.. please." They looked up at him. "I just need to be alone, alright?"
He wanted to tell them that everything was okay, that he trusted them with all that was left of his heart, but the word's wouldn't come out. Because truthfully? He couldn't believe himself either.
Michael watched as they made their way towards the kitchen, their gaze never leaving the brown paperbag. It was tossed into the trash bin with a clank. They flicked the kitchen lights off, turning towards their husband.
"Goodnight, Michael." They nodded, reaching the staircase and ascending up the hollow structure.
The couples shared bedroom door closed with a soft thud, a locking sound followed suit.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was strange, living in your husband's childhood home.
There were pictures that hadn't been removed since the early 80's. Closets that held old books, toys, clothing, memorabilia from Fredbears, and Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria.
"Where did I put the..." Their sentence dragged, scanning the room for their silky pajama pants.
"Was I being immature? Am I being immature? I really could've handled that better." They mentally droned, reminding themselves that they knew about his destructively-secretive nature before they said "I do."
"I just want him to trust me. I mean... we're married now! Sure, when we were kids it was a bit more understandable, but now?" A frustration filled groan escaped their lips.
Their eyes caught sight of a familar fabric, barely hanging onto the simple headboard. Quickly slipping into the pair of pajama pants, they threw on a loose, white t-shirt, flopping headfirst into bed.
...
Sleep was evading them, memories of the past and present ricocheting through their thoughts....
//Flashback//
"Hey Mike, how's it going-" They greeted, before being interrupted by a rather swollen purple lump on their boyfriend's forehead. "What happened?! Did you fall down the stairs?! Did Jeremy-!
He simply shook his head, avoiding their gaze.
"You won't tell me?" They deflated, leaning on the wall behind them.
"Not right now."
....
Police cars flooded the family diners parking lot, wailing children and horrified adults rushing towards their vehicles.
"What the-" The comfortably dressed teen mouthed, Walkman dangerously dangling from their coat pocket as they strode briskly towards the closest police man.
They weren't planning on visiting Fredbears today, Michael saying something about having to "go to his stupid brother's birthday party."
The teenager tapped the burly man on the shoulder, he glanced back at them before fully turning around. "Can I help ya'?" His thick southern accent was quite the shock.
"What happened?" They asked bluntly.
The policeman seemed hesitant, questioning if he should tell the teenager. "Well, it'll be a story on the front pages soon enough, so I'll tell ya'."
A child's head had been placed into Fredbear's mouth by a group of troublemakers, no information about who the victim was or the perpetrators had been released yet.
"Bad case of wrong place wrong time. That jaw would've malfunctioned either way. Just hope the young man pulls through." The policeman finished, ushering them away to make way for more professional personnel.
"Troublemakers.." The word rang through their head the moment the older gentleman spoke it. "Mikey wouldn't go that far, he couldn't.."
But he was never the same after that day, and they didn't dare ask why.
They didn't dare to ask why his smiles had become more strained, why his eyes were always glazed over, why he seemed to close his heart even more to the supposed "love of his life."
But they knew, and Michael knew they did.
...
"Another security job?" They deadpanned, one hand loosely clasped around the TV remote. "The past..- I don't know how many nightguard positions." They straightend, feet fully on the floor infront of the couch. "You always say they are a pain, why go back?" A valid question, one of course Michael would dance around.. instead of actually answering.
"This job is... different."
//Present Day//
"Maybe I'm the coward." They thought, gripping the sides of their plush pillow. Should they have pressed him more? Been more stern, demanding answers about his job and personal life?
"Excuse me?" An airy, feminine voice rang through the quiet room, shattering their thoughts into a million mental pieces.
"What the actual.." They move their head up slowly, eyes blown wide.
Surely, they were hearing things.
"Hello? Are you deaf?" The overtly British voice pierced their ears. Michael's was one thing, but this accent was so.. strong.
Low and behold, a girl, no older than 10 stood at the edge of the bed.
She was rather short, auburn hair adorned with a medium sized red bow, pink button up shirt, and jean skirt.
"Wait, I know her..?" They couldn't comprehend as to why they weren't freaking out, but their brain didn't feel the need to trigger any sort of emotions or chemicals. "That's.. Lizzy?"
Michael had never introduced them to his family, they never questioned it. However, pictures around the home displayed the family, and a little ginger haired girl was always present.
Even moreso, Michael had mentioned a "Lizzy" in conversation on occasion, simply calling her a "close family member."
"Did he really think I wouldn't be able to put two and two together?" They thought, bringing themselves back to the present.
"I'm gonna yell for my daddy!" She threatened.
"Um... I uh.." What was happening? How was she here? Michael never explained where she lived, what happened to her, if she was alive... nothing.
"I'm sorry sweetie, I'm not quite sure what's going on. But your dad isn't here." The little girl didn't seem to have heard them, or just didn't care enough to process their words.
"Why are you in our house?!? Are you just another one of Mike's flings?" Lizzy huffed, crossing her arms.
The child's wildly inappropriate question stunned his partner, staring blanky at their husbands little sister as they thought up a response.
"Let's calm down, alright? I'm not a 'fling,' I'm his spouse." Their speech tinged at the word "fling," just where was this little girl hearing these things?
"Huh?!" Lizzy gaped, inching closer to the bed. "How could Michael be with someone like you?"
They laughed anxiously, moving to fully sit, legs flung over the side of the bed.
"Did Michael seriously agree to babysit his sister without telling me?! How old is this girl anyway? Michael I swear you need to tell m-!"
"Sooo.." They had been so lost in their thoughts, they hadn't noticed the small child crawling onto the bed beside them, her legs swinging softly back and forth. "What do you like about my stupid brother?" Despite her words, their was a dash of child-like-softness evident in her tone.
"Kids moods can really change quickly, can't they?" They observed.
"Well, he's handsome, caring, responsible..." They dragged, Lizzy staring up at them with a sceptical look.
"My brother? Really? You have got incredibly low standards." She sighed, almost as if she were ashamed of the adult beside her.
"Nobodies perfect." They began, shrugging deeply. "He has flaws, things that really grind my gears... but I still love him."
"What kind of things?" She inquired.
"His flaws? Eh... I probably shouldn't be talking about them with his litt-"
"Come ooonnn!! Pleaseeeee!" She begged, tugging on one of their sleeves.
"Okay okay!" They laughed softly "I'll humour you, let me think..."
They had quickly decided to keep the conversation light, his little sister didn't need to be spreading their business to his entire extented family. Whoever those people may or may not be.
"He always leaves the toilet seat up, no matter how many times I tell him to remember to close it? He never does."
"Ugh! It's so annoying!" Lizzy complained, small hands bawling into fists. "I don't want to touch that nasty seat!"
His partner laughed at her childish outrage, already thinking up another stupid mistake Michael would commonly make.
"When he cooks?" They started. "He needs at least 10 different pans, I swear he could be cooking the simplest dish and the whole kitchen is a wreck."
Lizzy burst out laughing, much to their surprise.
"Mikey? Cooking? That's insanity!" Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes, her head thrown back in a fit of giggles.
They smiled fondly at the moment.
"Why would he keep his family away from me for so long? His sister seems like a normal little girl?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Michael stared outside the kitchen window, a glass cup quickly filling with semi-filtered tap water.
"Freddy is due for maintence tommorow.." He grumbled aloud, taking the cup with him back towards the living room.
The entire space was cold, dead even.
He placed the cup down, slumping back down into the lavish armchair. It really never fit the interior of the home.
His mind was fixated on work, much to his dismay. Michael wanted to care, he wanted to make things right with them, but how?
He sighed heavily, trying to free himself from the rubble his soul was trapped beneath. It was no use.
"I should've been.. better." He thought, a simple statement.
A better husband? boyfriend? friend? All three? Michael didn't know, but he knew his spouse deserved better than him.
As his mind began to spiral around the thorn-coated pole of emotions, a lighthearted expression made its way down the narrow staircase.
It was laughter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"He really did that?!" They wheezed, hand clutched against their chest.
"Yeah! He tripped over my plushie and fell into my toychest!" Lizzy laughed, kicking her short legs out infront of her.
The pair giggled and poked fun at the man, throwing different tales and moments into the stirring conversation. The little girls excitement cooled down to normal levels after a few more fits of giggles, her supposed sibling in-law following her flow.
"You know a lot about my brother, why have I never seen you before? I never got a wedding invite! I could have worn a fancy dress." The girl huffed, arms crossed with childish angry.
They patted her on the shoulder, quietly explaining that they had eloped... which then led into a short conversation on what it meant to "elope."
"He's always been secretive..." They said, hesitant to reveal such emotionally sensitive parts of their relationship. "Michael has only mentioned you and the rest of your family indirectly, so I really don't know much about you, or your parents."
"And my little brother!" Lizzy corrected, nodding up towards them.
"Ah," They thought back, back to the various pictures scattered about the home. "that little boy."
They couldn't recall a photograph of the two brothers together, only seperate.
Strange..
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Laughter?"
Confusion, skepticism, and fear crept up on Michael.
Was it his partner? Why would they be laughing? And with who? There was clearly more than one joyful squeal slithering beneath the bedroom door.
Hesitantly, Michael arose from the couch.
"Did I drag a bloody spirit home with me?" Although Michael didn't have any reason to believe this was possible, his father's creations always seemed to push his beliefs to the brink. "Please be okay.." He mumbled to nothing imparticular.
Reaching the staircase took an immense amount of effort, his sluggish legs and stiff arms making it almost impossible to move.
"What on Earth am I afraid of?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Circus Baby? Which location was that animatronic at?" They questioned.
"Circus Baby's Pizza World! Duh! It's like.. the most popular place right now! My daddy made her jusst for me!" The little girl spoke as if they had been living under a rock; they considered themselves "hip with the kids."
"I know they do rentals now, I didn't know they still had locations open after all the controversy." They shrugged, knowing they hadn't kept up with any Fazbear Entertaiment news since the mid 80's.
Knock knock
"Seriously? I told him I wanted space." His spouse sighed inaudibly.
"You should make up." They blinked, turning to look at Lizzy.
"Excuse me?" Confusion wove itself around their syllables.
"Make up? With Mikey? I know you two fought." Her words were so fluid, as if she gained an intelligence beyond her years.
Their name slipped under the door, the sound downcast and guilty.
"You're right." They nodded, head moving to stare at their folded hands, chuckling at the absurdity of the situation.
A little girl? Giving her advice? This was certainly new.
Both of them were being childish, refusing to work out the issues their relationship had been balancing ever since they met. It can't handle more weight, they both knew that.
A tired sigh escaped, rubbing their hands against their face before turning towards the girl. "It's almost like I'm the kid.. righ-?"
...
There was no one there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Michael stood outside the bedroom door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He didn't expect them to open the door, he knew they needed space.
Much to his surprise, however, the door flung open.
Opened with such high velocity, he wasn't sure the doorframe would make it.
"Where did she go?!" They asked, frantic.
Michael blinked once... twice.. thrice..
"Pardon?" His tone was laced with confusion, high pitched.
"Lizzy! She was just here!" They pointed at the bed, still facing Michael. "A little heads up about babysitting duty would've been nice y'know?" They sighed, arms crossing defensively.
"Lizzy?" He responded, expression unreadable.
They squinted, arms loosening. "Yes? Are you listening?"
He didn't respond, eyes now glued to the left side of the bed.
Where his sister, his dead sister had been talking with his spouse.
"Michael?"
"My sister is dead, Y/N."
Michael didn't sugarcoat it, didn't beat around the metaphorical bush.
That's all his partner needed to know. Not the how, or the why. For their own sake. At least for now, when emotions were ridgid and tensions were high like a freshly cut wound.
They stared, hard.
Disbelief and fear balled into one, those feelings forcefully wedging themselves deep within their brain.
A shaky sigh escaped them; Michael instinctively wrapped his arms around them.
"Okay." Was all they could muster, chin resting atop his shoulder.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The argument was long forgotten by now, the pair tightly wrapped around one another beneath the plush duvet.
A touch of courage reached his spouses lips, perhaps because of his late sister's encouragement.
"Your family.." They started, hand clutching one of his. "..are any of them still living?"
He sighed, squeezing their hand back.
"Tommorow." He spoke plainly. "I'll explain.. everything.. tomorrow. I promise."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hello hello reader! <3
I hope you enjoyed this fic!~ Please, check out my other Michael Afton related works if you are at all interested.
To whoever requested, I apologize for the delay! <3
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
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