No Retakes (Springtrap X Reader) (Springtrap & Deliah)

I walked into work, stretching my arms up high as I entered the building.
Shannon caught sight of my chipper expression, and spoke up. "Well, well, well, someone's in a good mood this morning." She chuckled.
I nodded, leaning against the front counter beside her. "Let's just say I have a real 'magical' night."
Shannon smirked at me, an eyebrow raised. "Ooh, I see what you mean. You and Scott had some extra fun didn't ya?" She questioned.
I snickered, straightening up. "Fun would be an understatement." I joked, walking off towards my station.
"You're really living the life, Y/N." Shannon said once more, before I exited the front desk.

I took a seat at my place, wiping it down with a rag to prepare myself for todays work.
I hummed happily, thinking of Springtrap. God he was amazing. He always knows how to make me feel better.

"Y/N, I'm surprised you're in such a happy mood. Especially while at work. You continue to confuse me every day." A familiar voice spoke from behind.
Quickly, my smile faded to a scowl. I grunted, turning to face him. "The hell do you want now, Francis?" I questioned, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Wow, harsh now are we?" Francis responded, stepping closer towards me. "But since you asked so kindly, I may as well let you in on a little secret."
I scoffed, rolling my eyes at the man. "Oh, and what might that be?"
Francis was now face to face with me. He slowly gazed at me, staring me up and down, the smile on his stupid face growing wider. "I-" He was stopped.
"Hey guys!" Chichi exclaimed, entering the workshop. "The most amazing thing happened yesterday!"
Chichi never gave me any ick like Francis did. If anything, I genuinely enjoyed their company.
"What happened?" I asked them, brushing past Francis.
"After you went home for the night, Y/N, Jared asked me to work on the Chester animatronic. And after I had finished repairing the monkey's ear, Shannon came in alongside Jared, and they were both very impressed with my repairs! Shannon even thought about upping my pay a bit if I continue to keep up the good work!" Explained Chichi happily.
I smiled alongside them. "That's awesome, Chichi! You totally deserve it!" I agreed, patting them on the shoulder.
"Thanks Y/N." They replied, a small pink hue on their face.
Francis cleared his throat, trying to gain our attention. "Excuse me for a moment. Chichi, can you and I speak? Alone."
Chichi's voice softened, as they stared over at their friend. "Oh, uh, sure Francis."

The two proceeded to exit the room to chat, leaving me alone again.
I sighed, running a strand of hair back behind my ear.
"What was Francis about to tell me?" I wondered, pacing back and forth. "Did it have something to do with this Stanford guy?" Springtrap had already told me he didn't know who the dude was, so I had nothing to go off of. "Maybe the internet has my answers? But ya know how many people could be named Stanford? How am I supposed to know which one is who I'm looking for?" I turned, my attention locking onto my desktop.
I padded over, beginning to search for the answers to my many questions. "I mean really, how am I supposed to find anything on one measly man? Hell I don't even know his first name." I stopped, looking at the link in front of me. It was a document from Freddy Fazbears Pizza, the old pizzeria where my husband once worked, and also killed those children. "Well shit." I commented, clicking my way further into the doc.
I rummaged through the old document. There was nothing on any killer, or even the dead kids. Perhaps the company had been doing their best to cover all this up?
Finally, I found who I was looking for. Stanford, or his full name, Roger William Stanford. Apparently this guy was a former employee from the pizzeria. It had most of his information written down, which contained his phone number, email address, height, age, and occupation. He was a security guard during the night for the place, and a attendant during the day. This was a clearly out of date page, since Freddy's had been closed down ever since the murders in the 80s.
"Is Springtrap lying to me?" I questioned, placing my hand on my chin. "He has to know this guy since they should have been coworkers together. Maybe I should ask him again? I really need to know more about how this guy correlates to all of this."