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rikaluver · 4 months

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If You Seek Amy - William Afton x Fem!Reader

Rating - Hard Smut

Word Count: 3.2k

Also available on AO3

The amount of patience that parents have is astronomically impressive to you. Kids are a handful. You're glad you don't have any because if you did, your brain matter would be splattered all over the wall. You're about to lose it. A toddler in a shopping cart is wailing. The little girl beside her is crying as well, both of them in an unholy cacophony of noise. It's hard to believe how such a small child can make such a big, terrible sound. Your fingers are pressed firmly into your temples, trying to alleviate the pounding headache that's been steadily growing for the past half hour.

"I'm gonna step outside and get some fresh air. You'll be alright for the next few minutes, right?" You ask your coworker who doesn't even give you the time of day and instead waves her hand, shooing you off.

You push through the backdoor, letting the door swing shut behind you. It's still loud, just a little less loud than before. You can actually hear your thoughts now. It's not too chilly, but there's a nice, cool breeze blowing that ruffles your hair and brushes against your skin. You breathe in deeply, taking a moment to appreciate the fact that you aren't inside a store that reeks of baby vomit and urine. You walk around back of the diner before you pull a cigarette out of the box you've been carrying around with you and light it up.

The first puff feels good. The smoke is smooth and warm as it passes through your lips. You can feel your nerves relaxing as the smoke enters your lungs. It's like a drug and you've been jonesing for it ever since your shift started. You exhale slowly and the smoke escapes you in a thin, white stream. There's a bit of a haze around you as you puff away on the cigarette, trying to make this last as long as possible.

You're not given smoke breaks during work, you're not even allowed to have cigarettes on you while you're working. You're not quite sure what would happen if you got caught, but you try not to worry too much about it. You don't need additional stress from worrying about the consequences of your actions.

The backdoor swings open and you expect another employee coming out back for a smoke as well, or maybe to throw something in the trash, but instead you're greeted by your boss, William Afton. His presence sends a jolt through your body, making you stand a little straighter and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. He's a tall man with a lanky build. He's very thin, not much in the way of muscle. Somehow, he remains threatening and imposing even though he's so skinny. The first time you saw him, you remember being startled by the way he carries himself. He's so thin, yet so strong, he exudes a certain confidence that makes him seem bigger than he actually is.

He looks at you for a moment, his face blank. You can't read him and you never can. He's a closed book, always. You hold his gaze, refusing to look away. His eyes are so dark, a deep, stormy grey. They're piercing and cold and it feels as though he's staring straight through you.

"Sorry, I'll put it out." You say, stumbling over your words.

"Oh, don't stop on my account. In fact, can I bum a fag?"

You stare at him confused. "Excuse me?"

"You got another one on you?" He points to the cigarette in your hand.

"Oh, uh, yeah."

"Give me one."

You pull the box out of your pocket and toss it to him. He catches it and pulls out a cigarette. You're surprised he's even able to fit his long, spindly fingers into your tiny pack of smokes. He puts the cigarette between his lips and pats his pockets, looking for a lighter.

"Here, let me." You pull your own lighter out of your pocket and light it, holding the flame out to him. William leans in, cupping his hands around the flame as he lights his cigarette. He's close enough that you can see the little, black flecks in his steel-grey eyes. The flames cast a warm glow on his face. For a brief second, he looks gentle. As quickly as it had come, the warmth in his eyes is gone.

"Thanks." He mutters and stands back, blowing a puff of smoke out of his mouth.

For several minutes the two of you are silent, standing side by side and smoking. You wonder if this is a test or something. Why is he still here? Does he want to talk to you? Is this a trick? What does he want? You glance over at him and you're a little shocked when you realize he's staring at you. A chill runs down your spine and your heart skips a beat. You avert your eyes, but you can still feel him watching you. It's unnerving and uncomfortable, but you're also strangely turned on. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You can't tell if you're blushing because he's so close, or because he's been staring at you. Either way, it's embarrassing.

After several more painfully awkward minutes, you clear your throat. "Did you need something from me, sir?" You ask, breaking the silence between the two of you. You can't handle the tension anymore. It's thick and heavy and smothering. If this continues any longer, you'll have a heart attack or spontaneously combust. It's one of the two. Maybe both. This is not good for your health.

He looks down at you, cocking his head to the side. "Do I need a reason to stand outside and smoke?" He asks his tone light and mocking. You can feel the condescension dripping from his voice. He takes another drag of his cigarette and blows the smoke into your face, causing you to cough and sputter. He laughs. You scowl and wave your hand in front of your face, trying to dispel the smoke and glare at him. His grin widens and he gives you a playful nudge. It's not forceful enough to send you sprawling to the ground, but it's not a gentle touch either. He's still stronger than he looks.

"Why don't we have smoke breaks when you smoke?" You ask, genuinely curious.

"Because Henry wants to promote healthy habits, you numpty." He replies, rolling his eyes. "We can't very well preach healthy eating and exercise habits and then turn around and tell our customers that we support and encourage unhealthy smoking habits. It'd make us hypocrites." He shrugs and takes another drag of his cigarette before adding, "Or so he says."

"So why are you-" You start to ask, but he interrupts you with a scoff.

"I'm a hypocrite." He deadpans, a slight smirk on his face.

That elicits a soft chuckle from you. "I can't argue with that." You smile a little and he returns the gesture. He's actually smiling at you and you feel your chest tighten and your heart starts beating rapidly. This is a bad sign. Your pulse is racing and your palms are getting sweaty. You've always been attracted to him, but the way he's been acting has really caught you off guard. Maybe he's just being nice. That could be a possibility. But then again, it's William Afton. Being nice isn't his style. You try not to dwell on it too much. You're going to get ahead of yourself if you keep thinking like this. It's just a smoke break. He's not flirting with you, he's just smoking. You're being silly.

Still, the butterflies in your stomach are making it difficult to stay calm. He's so close and he smells amazing and his presence is intoxicating and you're losing your mind. You take a deep breath and try to focus on something else. Anything else. Anything to distract you from this situation. You look up at the sky, but the clouds have gotten a lot darker since the last time you looked up. The air feels different, heavy. You can smell the rain coming. You finish off your cigarette and flick it away. The wind is picking up. You're going to have to get back inside soon or you're going to get wet.

You put your cigarette out on the wall behind you and toss it into the dumpster. You glance over at William, who's still smoking away. His eyes are closed and his head is tilted back. He looks so relaxed. You've never seen him like this before. He's always wound up so tightly, always so tense and rigid, but right now he looks completely at ease. His shoulders are loose, his posture is open, his jaw isn't clenched, his expression is calm.

You start to head back inside but stop when you hear him call your name. You turn around and see him looking at you. His expression is blank, giving nothing away. You have no idea what he's thinking or feeling. You hesitate, unsure if you should even answer him or not. He beckons you back and you approach him, a little hesitant. You're not sure what he wants, but you know you can't ignore him. If he wants you to do something, you have to do it. You won't defy him, even if it means doing something you might not want to do. It's not an issue of obedience, it's an issue of respect.

“You know you’re not supposed to smoke around here,” he takes a long drag from his cigarette.

You’re not sure why but you sort of expected him to be cool with you smoking, especially since you lent him one of your cigarettes. You already don’t get paid enough so you can’t afford to get paid less than this.

“No, what? You can’t.”

“Oh? Why can’t I?” He’s now staring you straight in the eyes, towering over you. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on a lot. The feeling of being vulnerable to someone to someone has always had a way of exciting you. You find yourself at a loss for words and stumble over the non-existent words you’re trying to get out.

"I could let this go, though." His eyes narrow as he continues, "what're you willing to give me for your freedom?"

His question catches you off guard, causing your breath to hitch. You can't be suggesting what you think he's suggesting, right? Surely, he can't be implying that you give him something in exchange for him not ratting you out, can he? The way he's staring at you makes it difficult to think clearly. His gaze is intense, burning into you.

You consider saying no, but the words are caught in your throat. You don't want to risk losing your job over a couple of smokes. "What do you mean?"

William leans forward and whispers in your ear, "you know exactly what I mean." He pulls back slightly, his face inches from yours. His expression is hard and cold. He looks so intimidating, but you can't help but find him incredibly attractive. The thought of submitting to him makes you weak in the knees. It's wrong, but it's also really hot. You can't deny the way your heart is pounding in your chest. Your breath catches in your throat and you bite your lip. Your mind is racing. You want him. You want him to take control. You want him to dominate you. It's a dangerous game, but you can't resist. You don't want to. The temptation is too strong, too powerful. You can't stop yourself. You can't fight it.

Your lips meet his and he kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth. You can taste the cigarette on his breath, along with something else, something sweet. He tastes delicious and you moan into his mouth. He pulls away and looks down at you, a grin on his face. "Hand." He demands. You're not sure why he's treating you like some kind of dog, but you're kind of into it. You oblige and put your hand out only to be met by a sickening burn. Your eyes widen in shock and you yelp as you watch him put out his cigarette butt on your arm.

You stare up at him, your heart pounding. You're not sure if you're turned on or afraid. Probably both. Definitely both. His eyes are dark and dangerous. They're filled with lust and power. He's got you right where he wants you. You're trapped. He has complete control over you and he knows it.

Before you can react, his lips are on your neck and your back is against the wall. He's kissing and biting, leaving bruises and marks all over your skin. You squirm beneath him, whimpering. He chuckles and his hand slips into your pants, cupping your cunt. His fingers press into your slit and your hips buck involuntarily. You moan and squeeze your thighs together, trapping his hand. His other hand moves to your breasts and begins squeezing and kneading. You arch your back, pressing your body against his.

He grinds his palm into your clit and you moan. His teeth graze your neck and his breath is hot against your skin. His fingers slip inside you and your walls contract around him. He bites down hard, drawing blood. You gasp and he grins against your skin.

He pulls his hand away and takes a step back. "Get on your knees." He orders. You obey without hesitation. Your legs are shaking and your knees are weak, but you manage to lower yourself onto the ground. Your head is spinning and you're dizzy. His fingers are sticky with your juices and he brings them up to your mouth.

"Open." He commands. You part your lips and his fingers slip into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his digits, tasting yourself. It's salty and sweet and it makes your stomach flip. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and places his hand on your head. He strokes your hair and leans forward, whispering in your ear, "that's a good girl."

Goosebumps rise on your arms and a shiver runs down your spine. The way he says that sends a thrill through you. Your pulse quickens and your heart beats faster. Your pussy is aching and throbbing and you want more. You need more. Your fingers slide down and press against your clit. He watches you with amusement as you pleasure yourself. His dick is straining against his pants and his hand moves to unbuckle his belt.

He frees his dick and strokes it slowly, rubbing the tip against your cheek. You look up at him, eyes wide, pleading. You can feel his hot, hard dick pressed against your skin. You're desperate for his cock. You need it inside you. You need him to fuck you. You whimper and whine and he chuckles. He grabs a handful of your hair and yanks your head back. Your scalp burns and you cry out in pain. Tears well up in your eyes and he smiles down at you, enjoying your discomfort. He pulls his hips back and thrusts his cock into your mouth. You gag as his length slides down your throat. Your body tenses and your eyes roll back in your head. You're choking, but you're unable to pull away. His grip is firm and he's not letting go any time soon.

"Go on." He commands. His voice is low and demanding. He doesn't have to tell you twice. You take his entire length down your throat, gagging and choking. His balls slap against your chin and his tip hits the back of your throat. You moan and your throat contracts, sending vibrations throughout his dick. You can feel him getting harder and thicker and his breathing is growing ragged.

His fingers tug at your hair and his nails dig into your scalp. He's using your hair as a handle and he's pulling you up and down, fucking your mouth while you fuck yourself with your fingers. Your jaw aches and your eyes are watering. Your nose is running and your chin is dripping with drool. It's disgusting, but you can't help it. You can't stop yourself. You love being used like this. You love the pain and the humiliation. You love being degraded and demeaned. You're a slut and you're getting off on being treated like a piece of meat.

Your tongue wraps around his shaft and you suck, bobbing your head up and down, taking him as deep as you can. You can't fit his whole length into your mouth, but it doesn't matter. You're still pleasing him. His hips buck and he moans. His hands leave your head and move to your shoulders, holding you down.

Your pussy is drenched and your body is quivering. Your orgasm is building and you can feel it coming. You look up at him, tears streaking down your cheeks. Your eyes are wide and pleading. Your mouth is stuffed full of cock and you can't speak. Your pussy is begging for attention and you're desperate to cum. Your fingers move frantically, pumping in and out of your slick, wet hole. You can feel his tip sliding against the roof of your mouth and his thick shaft stretching your jaw. You're so close, you're almost there. Just a little bit more and-

"You wanna cum?" He asks, his voice strained. He's breathing heavily and his grip on your shoulders tightens. He's close too. You nod as best as you can and he smiles. He pulls his hips back and thrusts his dick back into your mouth. You gag and choke and he laughs. His cock twitches and you can feel him shooting his hot, sticky load into your throat. He's cumming hard and he's not holding back. He's using you. He's using your mouth like a fleshlight. He's making you his own personal toy. You're a living, breathing sex doll and he's having his way with you. It's disgusting and perverted and it makes you so horny.

His cum overflows from your mouth and drips down your chin as you try your best to swallow it all. It's a struggle and it's making a mess, but it's worth it. It's so fucking worth it.

Before you know it, he's zipping himself back up and making way to the door. You're panting, trying to catch your breath. Your throat is sore and raw. Your jaw aches. You're covered in sweat and tears. Your face is sticky and your mouth is still full of his seed. And you're still fucking yourself.

"You can cum now, pretty girl." He says and walks back inside. You do as you're told and orgasm, letting out a pathetic moan. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't help yourself. You needed to cum. You were a mess, covered in spit and cum and tears. Your hair is a tangled mess and you can't see straight. You're exhausted and completely spent. Your muscles are sore and your legs are weak. You're shaking and your chest is heaving. You're a total wreck.

But, hey, at least you keep your pay.

#william afton #william afton fnaf #fanfic #fnaf fanfic #tags are so stupid

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