I Can't Say No To You

by I_AM_KING_DAD

Summary:

Henry Emily is having a hard time of year since his wife left and his drinking has gotten out of hand. William Afton notices, and attempts to use it to his business partner's poor mental state for sick fun.

09/07/2025 - I updated after a year! Enjoy. ❤️

Notes:

Hello. I'm back after so many years. To give you Five Nights at Freddy's Whump. Just the initial beginning to possibly gage reactions - if it's possible, I will post the smut.

I'm sorry if it's not super canon.

Chapter 1

The heavy scent of metal shavings and grease filled his nostrils before he even opened his eyes. Fuck. He woke up in the shop. No windows graced the drab concrete walls. The artificial lamplight he fell asleep under was obnoxious and buzzing, aggravating the ringing in his ears.

He was still wearing workshop goggles on something he'd been dangerously shouldering while having a visit with Jim Beam. Henry's body was drenched in sweat, through his t-shirt. Clinging to the back of his neck, his wet hair should just be put back. The coveralls he wore felt uncomfortable after sleeping in one place.

“Okay, what day -” he said aloud, spying the calendar near the clock and telephone.

It was a work day. A day he already had to be in for a small meeting with his business partner, William Afton. All he had to do was clean up and maybe he had a pair of clothes somewhere. It was then he was alerted by a grating beeping from the clock on his desk space. It. It was 10. He needed to be in at 9. “God dammit,” he muttered under his breath. Maybe it wouldn't be noticed, he knew how William was a punctual man, and expected it back. He imagined the irritability, and hurried up. His phone must have rung off the hook. Just a quick basin bath to wash his face and the damn sweat that made everything cold and clammy.

Standing up to even get there, he tripped over the rail of the stool he slumbered on precariously. It clattered to the floor, as well with his body, punctuated with a yelp, too slow to catch himself. He could already feel where he would bruise. As quiet as he possibly could, Henry pulled himself up with the help of his work bench and listened. Nothing he could hear. He brushed himself off, unhinged one of the straps of his coveralls, and ran through his excuse. A car crash, a woman stranded on the side of the road. Oh she just needed to go a couple miles away - oh the traffic - the

Henry scrubbed his hands, but there was only so much industrial hand cleaner could do in work like his. He shook his hands off and combed them through his beard, which he admitted was a little much as of recent. Forgot when he shaved last. The old bar of soap he raked across his face felt good. The tepid water? Strangely cooling. Collecting what he heard was called a “mullet” into a ponytail, he knew it wad a joke, lost only on him. The second strap of his coveralls flopped uselessly as the bib fell. Just some new clothes and spray of Riteguard and he was in the clear.

The door opened.

William Afton's steps were always purposeful, and silent. Henry didn't hear them as he had his shirt over his head. What he was met with was the angular form of his business partner in the doorway, reaching for something (he did not know what) out of his pocket.

When they met eyes, however, a tight-lipped, quizzical concern from his business partner soon became what Henry could describe as disappointment, “I thought I heard the water,” he noted, eyes moving from the dripping tap to a nod at pipes that would occasionally leak in the shop, “When did you come in?” his gaze drifted to the workshop itself.

Henry's voice caught when he tried to explain, “Just happened to come in traffic y'know-”

“Spare me,” Afton's voice was flat and arid as the desert. He slowly reached over to inspect a suit, plucking a few specs of microscopic dust from it. He pointing at the sink, “Make yourself presentable and come to my office,” he clearly had no patience today, which had been getting worse recently.

A turn of his heel and he was gone, stalking away, his steps managing to be light. It was just the door that slammed, loud enough to rattle it. Henry waited ten seconds after William left to continue scrubbing up, “Someone's in a mood,” he commented, as if the other man was ever in consistently good spirits.

~

Chapter 2: Here at Freddy's You're a Superstar!

Summary:

Henry Emily is not fulfilling what seems to be William Afton's mounting expectations. Rather than being able to fight for himself, he finds himself hypnotized by the man who was the closest to him in the world. You don't want to disappoint William, do you?

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading my introduction. Now it's time for some lovely smut. :)

For such a colorful pizzeria with all its trims and trappings, the back was overwhelmingly bland. All business. Even Henry tried to put a little color in his workshop. He was particularly pleased by a small, but signed Devo poster on the wall.

Afton, meanwhile, had a large desk calendar that he color coded for different tasks needed, and schedules. A purple vest adorned with little pins hung from a hook attached to the back of the door. He only put it on to do his business meetings or when he had to be on the floor. Other than that, it was off like it was a blanket harboring pox.

No memorabilia from former ventures adorned the walls. Only diplomas, including Henry's own. Afton said it was to make them both look more professionally impressive.

Today, Henry sighed before going to open the door, only to stop. Right. Knock. As he did he heard an abrupt, “Enter.”

“What'd you wanna talk about?” he started very quickly, hopefully to get the conversation over quick as, William had his head up his ass lately.

There was silence as the door shut. William wasn't even looking at him, his attention on a newspaper obscuring his face. He folded it in half. The snap of his fingers from his free hand was enough for Henry's attention to focus directly on him. William was wordlessly pointing to the surprisingly intact leather couch he found scrounging at an estate sale years ago. Henry sat down, a little too quick for his own liking.

William neatly folded the rest of the paper and intertwined his fingers together, setting them on the desk. Head cocked to the right his expression reflected curiosity and annoyance. He was the nosiest man Henry knew. William made Henry feel so small he could feel himself shrinking; two holes were being burned into him.

“So what's going on with you?” Afton purposely left the question open, but Henry had other things on his mind.

“What about the meeting with the investors?” his eyes darted to the calendar on the desk. Nothing was written down.

“About that. I wrote a memo, but apparently you didn't read it. It was only a test of your time management skills,” he smirked and blinked slowly. His voice eerily calm and quiet, “Oh well, I need to speak with you about your performance recently.”

Afton turned his back to Henry and took two paper cups, and filled them, eyeing an equal amount in each. Every movement was fluid, until the coffee was in Henry's hands, stinging them with intense heat. He preferred sugar and cream, something he kept in the back of a cabinet in the breakroom. He couldn't run and get it, but was thankful for the potential caffeine anyway.

William sat at the edge of his desk. No pictures of family adorned it, just practical items. A drab, olive, locked filing cabinet, a bookshelf with half read books (god, did he still have his old college books?). To keep it short, the room was the polar opposite of everything they strove for in their business.

Henry was never sure why. The coffee burnt as he slugged it down, it was surprisingly good. One of the few things his business partner splurged a little on. William stared at him, sipping from his cup.

Eyes, cat-like, pupils constricted to pinpricks. His mouth stretched wide with a frown he said, “You didn't answer my question.”

“You know this time of year is going to be hard for me,” Henry reminded himself to remain calm. If you remain calm against William Afton, you win. He forced himself to remain rigid, finishing his cup with a gulp and pitched it into a small plastic garbage can.

Afton took another sip and set his own cup down. “Hardly an excuse,” his voice was almost hypnotic, “I still come in after a divorce. I have my own children,” neglecting to mention they mostly live with their mother, leaving his home cold and bare. William stepped forward, noting Henry's hardened frame, “You'll have to try better than that.”

Henry watched his supposed friend glide to the otherside of the couch. He had nursed the coffee and placed the cup gingerly on the desk, “This is the third time I've found you drunk in yout workshop. Do you realize that's an OSHA violation? Revenue is already stretched pretty thin due to-”

“OSHA?” Henry couldn't help but raise his voice to a yell at how petty William was being. “You wanna talk about OSHA, you damn jackass? This whole place is an OSHA violation,” Henry growled, “because of you!” he could feel his face heating up, neck starting to patch up with red splotches. “Ya cut too many damn corners, and it's showing, William,” His body, no longer rigid, began to shake. He could have sworn Afton smirked for a split second. Maybe he was imagining it.

He wasnt.

William's face changed from one of dry scolding to one of understanding. With his voice reaching a melodic whisper, he said “Calm yourself,” and reached over placing his hands on Henry's shoulders, “You very well know cuts have been made, but I'm making changes. I do it for you,” he leaned in closer, squeezing him.

You're smarter than this. He still felt hot and pent up. It's bullshit. Then again, William was one of the best at that. Wiry hands ran down his arms, gently gripping his wrists and placing them at his side, “R-really?” he croaked. His throat felt impossibly dry now.

“Mmmm, yes, dear Henry,” William's gaze never left his. His right hand slid further, running his fingers over the harsh fabric of the coveralls, “You misunderstand me,” his hand soon brushed over Henry's crotch, cupping the area gently.

Henry's breath hitched, “H-h-how?” he began to shiver uncontrollably. He couldn't think of the last time he'd been touched, and his skin, his being was starving. He leaned back as a stubborn reaction, until he cracked his back against the arm of the couch.

William found himself now straddling Henry, moving his hand away. A strangled cough was the response, and he parted his lips to protest, but was immediately stopped. “Be quiet. Speak when spoken to,” William hissed as their pelvises met. The engineer reached up to place his hands at least on Afton’s hips, at least to push him off, but his hands were slapped away hard.

He gripped Henry's chin, moving in close, inspecting him, thumb gently running through his beard, then gripping harder, “Don't you ever touch me with those filthy hands of yours, Emily,” the sound of his last name made the dirty blond's ears ring. William then proceeded to grind up hard against him, “God, I forgot you're small,” he rolled his eyes and pressed his own hardening endowment up against the only slightly-less-than-average bulge forming from Henry.

Henry wasn't sure what to make of this development. On one hand, he was so enraged, the verbal abuse already getting under his skin. Why couldn't he push him off? The man above him stared at him with an intensity he could never constitute as love, but rather ferocious hatred. His hips moved agonizingly slow, and Henry watched the other man lean down, cheek brushing against his, lips just ghosting his ear. It was enough to elicit a whine, but Henry bit it back. He couldn't see the other man's face now, but with the way his chest shuddered, Henry swore he silently snickered.

“You're going home as soon as I'm done speaking with you. You're going to take the most thorough shower of your life, you reek,” Afton tilted his head to give the other man's neck a sniff, “No alcohol, it's coming out your pores,” he grunted, pressing down harder. Henry noted the scent of something botanical. A type of cologne? It was pleasant ans intensifiesnthe closer William leaned in. The clean scent was dizzying, refreshing, the opposite if his personality. It was enough to make a man drunk. The brunet's cock was fully erect, and Henry could feel the outline, clear and apparent, “If I even detect a drop on your lips, well,” he grinned against his ear, “We'll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Henry wondered how William would detect the alcohol. He hoped it would be with his tongue. No. Wipe that thought away. He let out another groan when Afton had paused in his speaking, “please…” he said weakly. The humiliation of it all was getting too much. He could feel a bit of helplessness, and it welled in his eyes.

A hard slap from a large hand knocked the engineer's glasses right off his face and catching his nose, “What did I say?” the only time he raised his voice the entire time. It was a fearsome growl. All motion had stopped. Henry's breath hitched when William continued on his rant, “You're gonna get your best suit pressed for the 5th. I've drummed up interest with some real investors, and they have real questions. Until then, I don't want to see you here,” Henry knew the grip William had on his shoulders was going to leave apparent bruising.

He squirmed, the orders being given usually would be very upsetting. That was like telling him he was grounded. Afton swallowed the biggest grin he could feel playing at his lips, leaned forward, and nipped at his earlobe.

The helplessness under Afton, on top of the constant deridement, the large cock pressed against his own, it was too much. His face red, forehead trickling with sweat, Henry could feel in the pit of his stomach that he was going to lose it. He shifted, but was held fast, “Tut, tut dear Henry,” Afton knew exactly what he was doing, “Calm down before you burst a blood vessel; that would be a mood killer,” his voice was rough, strangled.

A mood killer. What mood was he even in? William's face was no longer hidden, and he looked down at Henry with an almost innocent demeanor, “Oh my Henry,” he chuckled, seeing his friend completely sunk into the couch. He caressed his cheek, wiping the slightest hint of drool on Henry's lips, “Cum for me,” which was not a sexy breathless suggestion, but a sinister order. Henry couldn't help it, and released, bucking his hips up against Afton's whose laugh was loud and amused.

“What are you, a fountain?” he snorted and quickly moved away, noting the sheer amount of cum produced was a lot considering just how little he had done. As for himself? He could wait. He wasn't done with his own little bit of foreplay. Standing up, he reached down at Henry, “Hey…need some help up?”

He wasn't sure he could get up. His ears began to ring like he was getting off a plane. The first thing he did was quickly reach for his glasses, he had difficulty seeing the color and pupils of William when he didn't, which made him especially uncomfortable because that never happened with anyone else. After the ringing, which Henry brought his fingers to his ears for a second, but as it died down, the sound of William's laughter replaced it. He pushed the hand away and hurriedly got up.

William grabbed his hand as Henry reached the door, “No, really, listen,”

Henry sucked on the inside of his cheek to keep himself silent, which when he turned around William observed, “OH, you don't have to make it up to me,” Henry bristled at the comment, “Just wanted to remind you. The 5th. You need to be here by opening, though I scheduled it for later because who knows what you'll be up to,” his voice was singsong and light, like the interaction freed some sort of need other than sexual as well. Was he now Afton's punching bag? William, sensing Henry wasn't listening, reached up to pinch the other man's cheek, the other hand slowly twisting the know of his office door, “Remember everything I said,” he warned as he opened the office door, voice growing a little louder, “Okay, superstar?” a term only used in old training videos and employee engagement rigamarole. William gave him one last eye crinkling grin and a slap on the cheek before slamming the office door in his face.

Chapter 3

Summary:

Henry is all dressed up with nowhere to go... A resentful William puts him in his place.

Notes:

It's been about a year. I am so sorry! I have one more chapter after this and Henry will get revenge. I am inspired to continue until the end.

William Afton knew what he wanted. Every movement he made was deliberate and had an unctuous way about it. While he originally enjoyed the success of his business, they had fallen on hard times, specifically after... Well, the show must go on, was William's compartmentalized state of mind.

To be frank, he didn't quite like children to begin with, and that included his own. In fleeting moments, he would thank his ex wife for taking the remaining children with her and only got visitation every other weekend- and that's only if Michael and Elizabeth wanted to see him at all. Now he could do his work without interruption for as long as he'd like, though he wasn't going to lie it was a rather boring existence, despite him coming up with the idea in the first place. Why?

He resented the food. He rather liked pizza at first, but when one deals with a food item in their work, it can be nauseating after a while. William didn't even like working on the floor or helping in the kitchen because of the smell and grease spots consistently enraged him. Now it wasn't just finances he had to tighten his belt for.

Out of all the resentment William Afton felt in his body and soul, the brunt of it was let out on Henry Emily. At the meeting with potential investors, even though William was the showman and had everything calculated for success, it wasn't William's business plan they were interested in, but Henry. Henry's designs. His humbleness. Their interest in William's designs was never nearly as much as Henry's. He had to admit, the man was salt of the earth and easy to talk to, which is quite attractive for business, and their friendship. Fucking Henry.

William stalked a long hallway, making sure everything was spick and span as demanded. He found it left in good condition, even the kitchen, and the remaining employees were good to go home early in his opinion. He would pay them for the rest of the night, actually earning some smiles and thank yous. He knew they were afraid of him and rather liked Henry much more. William didn't care about that, as long as they did what they were told. As the last of his employees left, he locked the doors behind them, humming softly to himself and smirking at the rumbling of thunder.

William was more or less pretending to sweep the floor on the stage when he heard a door clank, keys jingle, and the patter of dress shoes coming from the hall. Henry stepped out with a roll of blueprints tucked under his arm. William was surprised to see him still in the outdated blue windowpane suit.

“Oh, I'm surprised you're still here,” Henry smiled, but his brows were knit together. Was that a bit of fear that flashed in his eyes? Delicious.

“I let the night crew go home early,” William's voice was laced with fake magnanimity.

“Really?” Henry's head swivelled to verify that yes, everyone else was gone. “That was nice of you…” he trailed off realizing they were alone together. “I think I'll head off myself. Watch one of the games on.

“We both know you don't watch sports,” William's eyes narrowed, his grin playful, but it still put a pit in Henry's stomach. “Now come over here and take a look at one of the suits…” he turned his back to the other man who stood frozen to the spot, and went to put the broom off to the side of the stage.

Oh. Work things. He supposed that he could take a look. Placing the blue print on the cleanest table he could find, he mechanically walked up to the stage, where the beloved suits stood perfectly still in all their glory, “I thought they were working just fine earlier-”

“You thought,” Afton turned on his heel examining his nails nonchalantly.

“What's going on with them?” voice etched with concern, Henry stood next to Fredbear reaching out to it. His hand was smacked away.

“Get on your knees,” William growled. His hand shot out, gripping tightly at that sandy blond hair, his arm pushing his head down, forcing the rest of Henry's body to comply.

“William, I don't think it's appropriate- don't you think it's a little weird -” Henry sputtered, reaching up to grab the fist holding his hair in a vice. It was met with a free hand violently clawing and prying his hand away, then smacking Henry in a sweeping motion hitting him square on the temple.

“No,” William's voice was a threatening rumble in the back of his throat.

“The nightcrew-” Henry's hair was slowly tightened the more he spoke.

“Remember? I let them go home for the evening. Not that you truly pay attention. Hiding away. No one's here to watch me do this,” William smirked, however it twisted into a sneer, “Just be a good boy and do as you're told,” the dark brown floorboards creaked as Henry complied, even if it was condescending.

Watch him do this? Not a mention of Henry. Like he had to accept the fact this would just happen to him, a passive partner. An object. He reached out to grab one of William's wiry legs. It resulted in a swift kick in the chest, forcing the air out of chest and a resounding groan.

William, enraged, backhanded Henry hard enough to leave a brightening red mark on his left cheek, “Don't you dare,” long fingers curled around Henry's jaw, “Keep your goddamn mouth open.”

Henry did as he was told when William let go of both his jaw and hair, however placed his thumb square on Henry's tongue. The roots of his scalp ached and felt tender. He rubbed his scalp gently. William snorted, “Maybe if you listened, you wouldn't be licking your wounds.”

The light shifted, William blocking out of the blinding beam from above. He still had trouble seeing his features, save for his hollow irises and bright, toothy grin, “Now that you'll behave, take my belt off,” he leaned forward, there was sick glee in his voice.

Henry was slow, tentative. He wondered why he was so keen to please (even displease) the man smugly beaming down at him with a cheshire grin. Just a small scrap of attention. Reaching out, he fumbled the buckle, waiting for his next instructions. The thumb in his mouth withdrew, and he was promptly smacked across the face, humiliating but light. “Dammit Henry! Can you hurry the fuck up? It's like you've never dressed yourself before!”

Henry felt as if he was vibrating; he even felt it in his teeth. With the buckle unlatched, he unbuttoned and unzipped, while William decided to slip the belt out if its loops, gripped it in on hand, and his other hand clenching in a fist, “Useless little man,” he grazed his knuckles against the stubble of Henry's beard, “You just can't help it, huh?”

He averted his gaze off to the right where he met eyes with their key animatronic, one built specifically by him. Normally he wouldn't bat an eye at it, maybe gaze at it with pride, but given the circumstances he shrank under its lifeless gaze. (It was debatable whose eyes were more dead, William's or Freddy's. Henry strangely picked his associate.) He shouldn't have shifted his eyesight so apparently, fingers hooked under William's underwear in hesitancy. It was noticed.

William's head slowly swiveled to match Henry's line of eyesight, “Oh,” it sounded almost like a cough and a laugh, “You like it when it watches?” he jabbed a thumb at the large bear animatronic, “This is delicious…maybe we should do this when some actual people can see the whore you're becoming,” there was a note of slight disgust.

“N-no,” he looked down at the floor, the bright neon carpet you'd see at a bowling alley made him dizzy. Pursed his lips and folded his arms in annoyance.

“What if the kitchen crew saw this?” He took Henry's hand and slipped it into his underwear, fishing his hard cock out and wrapping the fingers around it. “Come on, get your head into it,” he ordered.

“You wouldn't,” Henry knew that William wouldn't do that, but the thought terrified him. If anyone found out what they did occasionally, he would die - at least on the inside. On another hand, with William's thick cock in front of him and the slaps from his associate, his cock couldn't help but harden in his slacks. Henry leaned forward and slid his tongue from the underside of William's cock, to the girthy head.

William didn't signify what Henry said, “Oh, you're thirsty, huh?” he didn't know what to do with hands, and decided to bend forward ever so slightly and grip Henry's shoulders while the man gingerly placed his lips on the tip of his cock, “Fuck, you tease….” he trailed off, nimble and long fingers massaging in the lightest of circles.

The other man shivered but relaxed ever so slightly into the semi-massage. When William noticed Henry stop, and shot one of his hands to the back of his head, forcing Henry to swallow his cock faster than what he was “used” to and gagged. “Tha~t's it, Henry…” William bucked his hips as if to punctuate what he was saying. “Be a good boy,” his fingers curled to grip Henry's messy hair.

Looking up, shapes and dots swam in his view, but he still saw that toothy, wolfish grin, and it did something to him he couldn't explain. Well, he could, but his brain compartmentalized it. He shifted in his spot, feeling his dick get hard as he bottomed out, lips pressed against soft skin and hair. He gagged again. William made a strangled moan.

“That's it,” he began to pull on Henry's hair, “You know what to do,” he coaxed, and it seemed that the other man was responsive to this cackling. “Spread your legs a little,” and Henry did. A dress shoes met his crotch and he groaned, “Be a good sport and you'll get more,” William teased.

Henry now felt incentivized and let a little moan escape against William's cock. “Oh fuck,” his words bit the air and he admired as Henry began to bob up and down, tongue rolling over the underside of the pulsing member. He felt pressure on his own cock, he spread his legs further, hips angling upward and adding his own pressure against Afton's foot. He was rewarded with intentional added pressure, which spurred him on.

William liked it when Henry gagged. There was sheer embarrassment in his eyes. He placed a hand almost lovingly on his cheek, thumb skipping up next to a bright, honest eye and pulling the lid down. He enjoyed the uncomfortable, irked sounds that bubbled up from the back of the throat. “You're too much,” he gasped when Henry bottomed out again, saliva thick in his mouth. He struggled to breathe through his nose. “Take a deep breath…” and he withdrew.

Afton had an awful idea.

“Come here,” he ordered, attempting to coax Henry up. Henry appeared dazed, face flushed and chest heaving. William reached out and cupped his face with both hands, and bent down, thumb wiping the drool that spilled forth from his lips, “What a mess…” he couldn't help but bite down on a bright red lower lip. His tongue neatly swiped out, tasting his saliva before pulling away. Henry made a soft mewl, “Break's over now,” he grinned and pressed a kiss on the forehead of the thoroughly submissive man kneeling before him.

There was that same iron grip in his hair on the back of his head. William wasted no time and shoved his cock in Henry's face, “Hurry up,” he gripped it with his free hand, rubbing it up against his cheek, leaving a trail of presumably until Henry was able to swallow the length of his member down. William then treated it like his own personal fuck toy - well, when was Henry not? The gagging continued and he decided to continue with his plan; pinching the kneeling man's nose shut and thrusting mercilessly into the other man's very eager mouth. His foot pressed down and began to rub in circles on Henry's crotch to coax him to continue.

Henry couldn't breathe. He whined, angling his mouth so perhaps he could capture a breath, but Afton, being the greedy bastard he was, wouldn't allow it. Did he deserve this? He was starting to think he did deserve these unscheduled encounters. Shooting his hands out to William's ankles, he trusted upward. He was easily overwhelmed by the dress shoe massaging him and shuddered uncontrollably. Oh no. His head felt like it was going to explode, and his throat garbled around William's cock. He came so easily it was embarrassing, and Henry loved it.

William laughed in rough barks, his hips jerking, a hand reaching down to grab the other man's poorly done up tie and pull tight. Another gag and William was cumming hard. Pulling away violently, Afton made sure his cum, which was ejaculating in long spurts, hit Henry's glasses and face while he helplessly sputtered. His deep rib cage heaved as he finished, using the tie to wipe off any residue.

He was quick to stuff himself back into his pants, shirt ruffled, belt skipping a loop. He was surprised he didn't need to use it on him. Henry pulled his cum-covered glasses off, blindly looking up at William, eyes narrowed. It looked like he couldn't catch his breath, face attractively flushed. He loved that out of style suit on him. It's a shame he didn't know how to tie and tie well…Afton didn't bother helping him up or even saying thank you.

“You're gonna want to clean up before you leave,” William barked nonchalantly, and turned on his heel back to his office.