I Don't Get Paid Enough For This (William Afton x reader)

Highschool Bullies

The little WWE wrestling match that you and William had, had been stuck in your mind for the rest of the week.

Well, it had been less like a match and more like a 'getting violated disrespectfully' type of situation. How could you let yourself get disrespected like that? In your own place of work as-well? At that point, it was just embarrassing.

You'd gone out of your way to further avoid him after that. Anytime you heard him call your name, you'd hightail it in the opposite direction and hide out somewhere until the coast was clear. It was humiliating to say the least. It was like constantly walking on eggshells.

Your shift today was uninteresting at most. The lack of guests left you often just hanging around the restaurant and pretending to clean when a manager made their rounds. As long as you kept yourself under the radar, you genuinely believed you could make it through the day.

When your break came around, you practically flung yourself to the empty break room. The one thing that had been on your mind all day was the most mouthwatering, toe-curling snack on this planet. Doritos.

Okay so maybe you hyped them up too much because your broke ass could only afford them as an 'expensive' snack, so they were a real treat to you. You hadn't had them in a while since the majority of your pay check went to bills and rent so you couldn't really splash out on yourself when shopping for food.

You practically broke off the door to your locker as you gazed upon the beauty that was those succulent corn chips.
'Finally, something to live for.'

You stationed yourself at the pale blue rounded table table in the break room and sat in those uncomfortable plastic chairs that you were convinced were giving you severe back problems.

Opening the bag, you inhaled the artificial scenting of the chips as though it was crack.
The way that you consumed those Doritos could only be described in a very specific way: apeshit. You practically inhaled the bag, as though you hadn't eaten in three weeks.

As you were going apeshit on these Doritos, you felt a burning sensation in your skull as though someone was staring up at you. You raised your head and sure enough, there was the someone. Leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed stood your least favourite psychopath.

You frowned, putting the Doritos down, "Did you need something?"
William didn't answer, he just continued to scan over your face as if he was processing something in his head. He had a calculating look on his face.
You lifted the bag, "Did you want one or something?"
Again, no response. He just continued to stare you down, observing every feature on your face. You felt your blood begin to boil. Does this man have a staring issue or what?

"Seriously, what do you want?" The awkwardness in the room was steadily increasing with each silent moment between you two. You stared back, expecting some sort of response or even an attack of some sort yet his cold, calculating gaze remained still and silent.

Eventually, Williams eyes broke away before he dismounted himself from the wall and left without a single word or look back.

What the fuck was that?

That man had serious issues. You frowned before staring down at the remaining Doritos on the table, you'd lost your appetite. Everything he did either put you on edge or made you want to punch him, it was draining you. You pushed the Doritos aside and rested your head on the table, blocking out any of those bleak and white lights.

The sound of footsteps and a gentle tap on your arm forced you to raise your head. You were pleasantly surprised to see Henry standing over you. He looked... well, bad. After learning about his daughter, you payed more attention to his decay. The loss of customers and employees alike caused him to become more out of place and isolated. You hardly saw him around the restaurant anymore, he mostly kept to himself in the office. He looked weak and his skin was pale and a lifeless grey, as though it was him who had died. His glasses were crooked and his hair was unkempt. In his hand, he held an envelope.