Purple Rain | William Afton x Reader

Deal with the devil

You wished you could be angry. You wished you could have grabbed him by the collar, given him a piece of your mind – after all, this bad day has been his fault. You wished you could have even slammed the door in his face, but moving proved to be impossible.

Primal fear gripped your entire body, as you stared at him wide-eyed. You were facing an actual murderer, in a place where there were no people, and he obviously had it out for you.

You wished he was just a bad dream. A hallucination.

But as he stood in the doorway, water dripping from his dark hair, some of the droplets falling onto your wooden floor; his breath still smelling of stale coffee and cigarettes; he seemed more real than ever. You could see every wrinkle, every individual hair strand, every imperfection. In the simulation, he seemed much more... polished.

-I finally found you... - William spoke, his breathing heavy. The light in the hallway behind him flickered.

God, in this lighting he looked even more like a serial killer. He looked like the type of guy to have rope and a skiing mask in the back of his car.

You saw his body jerk, ready to move. And as he started, so did you. Your arms moved on their own, slamming the door into him. You wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but were soon stripped of that feeling, as he pushed at the door from the other side.

Even though you exercised so much, even though you did all the heavy lifting for a year – he still managed to overpower you. You slid on the polished floor, cursing your own sense of aesthetic, still desperately trying to close the door. This was like Peter Griffin 2.0, only this time you were very much mortal. If he decided to pull a knife on you, or a gun (this was Detroit, after all), you were a goner.

-What do you want from me?! - You yelled, slamming your shoulder into the door, earning a grunt from William.

-I just... want to talk. Stop... struggling! - It was his turn to slam into the door. You slipped on the floor, wet from water and probably your stress-sweat, and fell backwards, onto your poor ass.

You immediately scrambled backwards, hiding behind your couch, as William stepped into the apartment. He closed the door behind him, like the gentleman he was. He curiously looked around, as you tried to search for weapons. God damn your sense of aesthetic, not letting you place random wrenches or guns all over your apartment. You should have been prepared for an ambush.

-Stop acting like a child. - You heard his footsteps come closer. - You weren't all that scared of me the previous times.

You yelped, feeling a hand tangle in your hair, violently jerking you upwards. You were forced to stand up, uncomfortably close to the man behind the slaughter (lol). A whimper escaped your lips, as you felt his other hand graze your neck. You were so sure at that moment, that he would close it around your throat, and strangle the life out of you. Again.

He let go. You nearly fell over, supporting yourself on your couch, as he stepped away from you and started walking around your apartment. Your safe space.

-So, this is how you live. I expected more of a crack house. This is a pleasant surprise. - He stepped into the kitchen, as you stood there, astonished by... the nerve of this man.

He just fucking broke into your apartment, scared the living shit out of you, and now was just walking around like It was no big deal. Like he didn't just travel dimensions, and like he wasn't in a house of a person that tried to kill him on two separate occasions.

-How... in the hell...

-How did I get here? - He spun around, facing you again. There was crazy in his eyes, one of them open wider than the other. - Love, years of hard work, and dedication. And none of it would have succeeded, if it wasn't for you. - He started walking towards you, and you backed up again. - But there is one, little thing... - In an instant, he was once again invading your personal space, now grabbing both of your cheeks and forcing you to look up.