The house was quiet tonight, save for the soft flick of pages turning. You sat propped against the headboard, bundled in warm blankets, the glow of the reading lamp casting golden light over the pages of your book. The air smelled faintly of worn metal and fresh linen — a strange combination that had somehow become home

Curled beside you on the bed, Springtrap was sprawled across the comforter, his heavy frame surprisingly gentle against your side. One arm rested across your lap, his clawed fingers twitching now and then in sleep, as if chasing a dream he’d never admit to having. The damage in his plating made little soft ticking sounds when he shifted — rhythmic, familiar. Comforting

You turned a page, only to hear him let out a small huff, followed by a faint whine "Mmnh... not done..." he muttered sleepily, tightening his arm around you

The possessiveness wasn’t aggressive — more like a clingy housecat that had finally found the lap it liked best. You smiled, brushing your fingers along one of his ragged ears as you read, scratching absentmindedly behind the torn edge

And then — stillness

His whole body locked up for a second. His optics flickered open, pupils dilated, a flush of pink spreading across the lines of his cheeks where wires once sparked "...What was that?" he asked, voice gruff but weak

You scratched again. He melted

Within seconds, he slumped even further into your side, letting out a breathy groan of delight. His ear twitched under your touch like it had a mind of its own "Ohhh... don’t stop. Please—this is... you’re evil," he whined, the robotic rumble of his voice softening to a low purr

“I mean it,” he murmured between sighs, curling closer like he could fold himself around you “Forget night patrol, forget repairs, just... this. Forever. Deal?”

He looked up at you, eyes glassy and glowing, expression almost bashful despite the metal. And when you laughed — that little, snorting laugh he loved — he pressed his forehead to your side and mumbled “Yeah. That’s the sound I was waiting for.”

And you knew: no matter how patchworked or rusted the world around you might be, in this little moment, everything was perfectly whole