𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨, 𝙊𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨. // WILLIAM AFTON X READER

.○° CHAPTER 3 °○.

» [Nobody] «
{{[Mitski]}}
0:29 ─〇───── 3:13
⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

TW: SELF HARM, KNIVES, INJURY, BLOOD.

"One fanged vampire."

Your mind is hazy. You feel your consciousness materialising while unable to move. You feel something soft beneath you, you're certain you aren't outside, and you try to make out words being said in the room. You feel numb, like you're being choked. Your eyes won't open, but you know you're awake. You can't function, and you aren't sure if you're dead or simply paralysed.

"Michael?"

"What do you want?"

"Do the dishes."

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

"Awh come on da--"

"I said go!"

"Alright, alright."

You hear footsteps fading, followed by the faint sound of water running and cutlery clanging. You feel a presence beside you, and suddenly, a gentle hand ran down your cheek and to your chin. You feel yourself slipping back into unconsciousness, unable to feel, hear, or touch anything.

.☆~~~~☆.

Your eyes open slowly to the strong smell of something sweet, along with the faint sound of a little voice. You feel someone violently shake you, which causes you to gasp and jolt up, sweat trickling down your forehead.

"Elizabeth! That is no way to wake up a guest, now is it?"

A male voice spoke. You recognised it to be Afton, the man who interviewed you. You were on a couch. It was soft and plushy, soothing your aching muscles. You look up, your vision slightly blurred. Mr Afton stood over you, holding a strawberry blonde girl to his hip.

"...Mr Afton?"

You question quietly, tilting your head. A slow smirk spreads across his face.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

He teased, ruffling your hair before letting the girl go and sitting beside you. You don't respond, instead feeling your brain morphing from liquid to solid gradually.

"Are you feeling alright?"

He asks, a flash of concern filling those cold eyes of his. You contemplate, the feeling of your pounding head and aching neck made you shake your head.

"Not really. I have an awful hangover, and-"

Events of the night before came to your mind, and you panic.

"Holy mother fucking shit!"

You yell, earning yourself a scolding stare.

"Y/n. Keep your voice down and stop swearing. There are children here."

He hissed. You sigh and lower your head. You decided to ask the most important question, considering just hours ago you had passed out on cold ground.