Daddy Issues | William Afton × Reader

cold morning and pizza flavour

The darkness was fading bit by bit as my eyes opened slowly. My head was feeling terribly heavy, as if a ton of large bricks were crashing it. I gazed up to meet with cool monochrome colours of the room, following a realisation of how cloudy it was outside. Limbs feeling weighty, I lifted my body up with an effort, bending in half and burying my head in knees instantly. A couple of moments have passed before I was brave enough to reach the phone. My nose wrinkled as the light provided by the screen was a little too bright, yet I could make out the numbers.

"10:03"

Thankfully, my pale feet met with a green fluffy rug I had put the day before in order not to be stressed out by violent cold that had filled the place. It could be this loudy creaking frozen floor instead. Getting into shoes, I got up and headed towards the kitchen which took just a couple of steps.

The flat was almost tiny, but I didn't mind - it's rented, and it's only for a couple of weeks. Exploring Utah was a spontaneous idea, but I couldn't care less as I quickly considered it fun. It was decided that I take a gap year before univeristy to heal after not so plesant events high school got me to experience. Travelling has always been a relaxing activity, getting to live the life as it is before diving right into it after more years of studying seemed worthy, besides there was enough money to-

Right.

The money.

The fridge door opened with an unplesant sound and my eyes have suddenly discovered only a single half-empty carton of milk and a spoiled piece of cheese covered in white stains. The milk was glanced at with a dose of suspicion as I procceeded to the table, taking a pack of cereal along. Making sure my body won't reject the food, I made so-called "breakfast" and pressed a button on an electrical kettle. While consuming the cereal, my half-asleep brain was travelling across the universe to find the answer to "How to make money if you're a teen with an already aching back and attitude. And fast."

I stared through the window, admiring the view of the foggy town which seemed almost dark despite it was almost noon. Hot coffee warmed me up quite fast, even bringing a light energizing feeling as I just ran out of milk and had to swallow a large cup of it black.

Not being content with a perspective of fasting, I surfed the Internet in hopes to come across something decent. Shortly after, one note piqued my interest. It said "Fredbear's Family Diner is searching for loyal employees who are eager to devote themselves to fantasy and fun! Generous paycheck is promised!"

What an idiot would actually apply for this job? What the hell is this "generous paycheck"?! It sounds sus af.

Still dressed in a hoodie I slept in, only throwing jeans and my jacket on, I rushed out of the building. The cold wind made me question my outfit choice, but I was too eager to end this journey as soon as possible. Finding the location wasn't difficult at all, but my social anxiety was growing more and more wild with each passing second as I stepped closer and closer to the restaurant. It took an entire reassuring monologue in my head to get to the entrance, and with a deep breath in, I pulled the door.

It was an absolutely regular place, I didn't expect more. Muffed sounds of music could be heard from the main rooms and familiar aroma of carton pizza made me relax a bit. I shrugged my anxiety off as much as I could and walked up to the counter where an employee could be seen.

The formal exchange of words has ended with the employee asking me to wait and disappearing behind the door which was probably leading to long corridors of offices. I stood patiently, almost forgetting my previous worries, exploring colourful walls and child-friendly enviroment of the diner.

The same door opened swiftly and another person walked to the counter. It was a man of average built, he had a beard, glasses and was clearly panting.

- Good afternoon, sir. My name is Y/N and I heard you're in need of an employee.

- Hello, Y/N. Yes, you are completely right, we're in a desperate need of workers as you can see.

Indeed, the restaurant wasn't crowded. It could be the time, though. But I haven't noticed a large amount of staff either which was unnerving because of the promised "generous paycheck".

- Please fill in these forms, - the man said handing some papers over, - as soon as you do, I'll have to take a moment to check them.

- Sure, give me a minute, - I eagerly took the pen from the counter and glanced at the papers.

Oh.

I was mistaken.

There is no way it would take a minute.

As I started writing, the man walked away, clearly understanding how much time it would usually take to fill the forms. Literally, beside sharing personal data it was a survey, a damn test intending to find out if I was a good person or not.

Fucking stupid.

This test makes no damn sense, do people who run this place even consider a possibility of applicants lying?

"Are you usually late to meetings?"

Yes, if it's not a date with your mum.

"Do you usually stay calm even around people who are not?"

I'm always a mad bitch.

"Do you keep your promises?"

Yes, if the promise is to fuck your mum.

In spite of this survey being considered stupid, I obediently filled every line with honest answers. Unfortunately, a fantasy of being a bad bitch had to be ruined. As soon as I dropped the pen, the man appeared again.

- Are you done? Excellent! I'll be back in a couple of minutes.

His cheerful tone made me hope for the better outcome that I would normally think of. That he really will return in a couple of minutes. I took a deep breathe in, already considering an option of me not getting the job and having to eat carton for dinner. I wasn't close to this state just yet, but a couple of days will pass and I would really have to become a human rat. My back wasn't comfortable being bent over the counter, so I turned around and my eyes continued wandering around the diner. Lost in assumptions of what I'll have to go through soon if I won't get the job, I was almost frightened by the sound of the opening door which made me turn around quickly.

- Please follow me, Y/N, - the man gestured and I hastily made a couple of steps to keep up with his pace.

There was a corridor indeed, it was lit poorly, the surroundings were much more different than in the main hall - plain walls didn't leave much space to move around.

- My name is Henry Emily, - he turned is head in my direction while walking forward, - I'm a co-owner of this place. Me and my business partner will ask you a couple of questions, ok?

- Alright, - it took me a good effort not to panic, still assuming it's not a total failure as I've gone that far.

Mr. Emily stopped in front of a door. A decent source of light could be spotted behind it as it had glass fragments. He politely let me in first and suddenly, an astonishing view came into my sight - another man, probably in his late 30s or early 40s, dressed in formal attire, was sitting behind the desk. His hair was dark brown, neatly styled, skin pale and eyes - oh, those eyes - light blue, almost silver, instantly pierced into my frame. The door closed.

- Y/N, right?

- Yes, sir, - I smiled politely, embarassed for some reason.

Henry walked towards the desk and made himself comfortable in a chair beside it.

- Take a seat, please, - I obeyed and he continued, - I'm William Afton, my friend and I own this place. You see, the situation isn't the best as we have to interview you ourselves, - he chuckled, his eyes gazing into mine the next second, - this year has been quite challenging for the company so far.

Oh fuck.

- So tell me, Y/N, why would you like to work with us?

Oh fuck.