𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 | William Afton x Reader

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚

content warning - read with caution or don't read at all if you are uncomfortable with the following topics: mention of killing, family trauma, and heavy use of alcohol.

William's POV

   God, it was perfect.

   I had looked around time after time, and yet I still couldn't get enough. There was never a moment when I was dissatisfied with the work I had put in to make this happen. It was finished. It was finished, and I could finally breathe in a way that didn't seem to constrict me.

   As I paced the building, a small smile on my face, my heart beat just a tad bit faster. I felt lightheaded, and something seemed to twist within me. It was a feeling I hadn't experienced in a while. The circumstances were right, and everything was falling exactly where I needed it to; the start of an era.

   I couldn't wait to get back on track.

   I couldn't wait to kill.

Y/N's POV

   You stood up, clutching your jacket.

   "Are we ready?" Asked your father. He looked at you and your mother, who nodded.

   The night had finally come to a close, and you were more than ready. You were quite eager to get home, in fact, and to sleep.

   The three of you moved towards the entrance of the restaurant, or, in this case, the exit. You pushed past late crowds of families, some with young children that you took care not to trample. It was like a maze, and though it was cold outside, the sun almost completely set, you wished to be out there where there was air and less people.

   You and your parents reached the door and pushed your way into the crowded waiting room. You took up the front and opened the door to the outside, thankful for the cool air on your face when you did so.

   "Alright," Muttered your father. "Let me grab my keys..."

   He trailed off, patting down his pockets. A frown appeared on his face.

   "Do you not have them?" You asked, eyebrows furrowed.

   "Must've left them at the booth! You two wait here; I'll be right back."

   Your dad went back the way you had come. A sigh escaped your lips, and you sat on the empty bench. There was nobody around now; just you and your mother. She seemed oddly tense.

   "...Did you enjoy dinner?" You asked her. It probably would have been better if you hadn't said anything, but you felt bad about... well, everything. Maybe I can leave her with a good impression of me.

   "I don't know. It was dinner." God, she was difficult.

   "I'm sorry, mom," You muttered. "I know everything sucks sometimes, and I just... I wish you could cheer up."

   "Well," She chewed on her lips, crossing her arms. "Whatever, Y/N. I don't know why you would be so involved."

   "What do you mean? You're my mom, and I worry for you because I want to see you happy."

   "You want to see me... happy?" You blinked at her.

   "Of course, I-"

   "If you wanted to see me at all, you would have called, Y/N," Your mother glared daggers at you. "If you wanted to see me happy..."

   She didn't finish the sentence. Something burned within the pit of your stomach, and your expression turned almost sour.

   "Mom, you're not the only one this is hard for," It was hard not to lose your temper, but you kept your voice steady. "I get that you're pissed off at the world, and I am too, but-"