william afton - smut one shots

I spilled them (pt 2)

William catches you alone and relieves some pent up stress in your shoulders, despite your protest.

***

You didn't sleep at all last night. You lay motionless in Elizabeth's bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, your mind consumed by thoughts of William. His smug expression flashed before you, the way he'd pressed you against the wall, forcing your hand to touch him. You could still feel the warmth of his breath against your neck, his voice—low and taunting—echoing in your ears.

The sun had already crept through the curtains, and Elizabeth began to stir beside you. "Morning," she said with a yawn, stretching her arms.

You glanced at her, your eyes aching with exhaustion. "Morning," you replied, managing a weak smile.

"Have you been up long?" she asked, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

"Oh, no, I just woke up," you lied, wiping at your own tired eyes.

"Do you want to get some breakfast? I'm starving this morning," Elizabeth chuckled as she slipped out of bed, stretching before heading toward the door.

You hesitated, taking a deep breath before standing. Pulling on a pair of pajama pants, you followed her downstairs. Each step felt heavy, your mind racing, scanning for any sign of William. Your heart eased slightly when you didn't see him, but the unease clung to you. How could it not? His presence, the memory of last night, loomed over you.

In the kitchen, the scent of eggs sizzling in the pan greeted you. Clara, Elizabeth's mother, was rushing about, trying to finish her morning routine. "Morning," she called over her shoulder, juggling pans and a phone call. "I've started making eggs, but I'm running late for work," she added, glancing at the clock in frustration.

"We'll take over from here!" Liz chimed in cheerfully, already moving toward the stove with a spring in her step.

"Bye, Mrs. Afton," you muttered, forcing a polite smile as you stood awkwardly near the doorway. "Thanks for having me."

"Of course, sweetie! Anytime!" Clara smiled warmly before hurrying out the door, her keys jingling as she left. Elizabeth busied herself at the stove, humming softly while she flipped the eggs. You stood beside her, eyes fixed on the window, but your mind was miles away. The events of last night played over and over in your head like a broken record—you couldn't escape it.

Then, a voice cut through the kitchen, shattering the fragile calm.

"Hello, girls."

Your heart nearly stopped. His voice. It crawled up your spine, freezing you in place. Every muscle in your body tensed, locking you in position. You couldn't move. You couldn't even breathe.

"Morning, Dad!" Elizabeth chimed, oblivious to your tension. She turned, smiling brightly, and gave him a quick hug before returning to the stove.

But you stood there, stiff, paralyzed by the sound of him, your back still to the room. You could feel his presence behind you, and the air suddenly felt thick, suffocating.

"Morning, Liz," he greeted her casually. Then his eyes slid toward you. "Morning, y/n."

Your stomach twisted as you forced yourself to turn around, plastering on a weak smile. "H-Hi, uh, good morning," you stammered, the sight of William immediately stirring the memories from last night. His face, his voice—everything about him pulled you back into that awful moment.

He gave you a subtle grin, the kind that made your skin crawl, before turning his attention elsewhere. "I'll have to head out soon," he said. "It'll be a long day at the diner." Then, with a quick glance over his shoulder, he added, "You two will behave, yeah?"

Elizabeth laughed lightly, rolling her eyes as she flipped the eggs. "Yeah, Dad, we're not children," she teased, her attention drifting back to breakfast, completely unaware of the tension filling the air.

"Oh, I know," he replied with a smirk, his eyes lingering on you just a moment too long. The way he looked at you made your skin crawl, an unsettling sensation that made your whole body tense. You shifted uncomfortably, hoping the floor would swallow you up as he finally turned and walked away, his presence still hanging in the room like a shadow.

As soon as he left, Elizabeth let out a laugh, completely unaware of the weight in the air. "Sorry, he's so annoying," she said, rolling her eyes.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your shaky breaths. "Aren't all dads?" you replied, forcing a chuckle, even as your voice wavered. You shrugged your shoulders casually, hoping she couldn't see just how badly his smirk had rattled you.

You and Liz finished making breakfast together, offering you a brief moment of calm. But then she excused herself to use the bathroom down the hall, leaving you alone in the kitchen. A wave of anxiety washed over you, the fear of being left alone with William gnawing at your mind. You told yourself he was still upstairs in the shower, and you clung to that hope, praying he wouldn't come down.

But luck wasn't on your side.

As you sat at the kitchen table, picking at the last bits of your breakfast, you heard slow, deliberate footsteps behind you. Your heart stopped. Before you could react, you felt two cold hands you knew were William's rest on your shoulders, sending a jolt of fear through your body. 

Your stomach churned as you sat frozen, dreading what might come next.

"How's my girl doing?" he murmured in a low, unsettling tone as his hands began to move over your shoulders. You stiffened immediately, your heart hammering in your chest, panic and fear swelling inside you. His touch, though outwardly gentle, felt like a trap tightening around you.

"Hey, relax a bit," he coaxed, his voice deceptively soothing. "You're so tense. Let me help."

He continued massaging your shoulders, and you wanted nothing more than to pull away, to escape the weight of his hands. But the ache in your upper back—made worse from hours of mopping and sweeping at work—betrayed you. As much as you loathed it, the tension in your muscles started to melt, and you found yourself sinking back into the chair, your body relaxing despite your mind screaming to stay alert.

"Yeah, that's it," he whispered softly, his breath too close for comfort. "Doesn't that feel nice?"

Your body responded, though your mind recoiled. Every fiber of your being wanted to resist, but exhaustion and the manipulative comfort of his touch dulled your defenses.

"M-Mr. Afton, I-I don't—"

"Shhh," William shushed. His hands moved expertly, easing the tension from your muscles, unraveling the knots in your back with each press of his fingers. "You were so good to me last night," he murmured, his voice low and invasive, sending a chill down your spine. "It's only fair I return the favor, hmm?"

You hummed instinctively, a sound caught somewhere between relaxation and revulsion. You felt trapped, torn between the fleeting comfort his touch offered and the overwhelming sense of violation that gnawed at you.

Finally, his hands lifted from your shoulders, but before you could fully exhale in relief, you felt the brush of his lips against the back of your head. A chill ran through your entire body. Slowly, you turned your head to look at him, your heart still pounding in your chest.

There he stood, half-naked, a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. His torso was long and flat, his frame tall and slender, the kind of build that made him seem imposing even without trying. Water dripped lazily from his hair, trailing down his chest and disappearing into the towel at his waist. He stood there, his eyes on you, a subtle smirk tugging at his lips. He knew exactly the effect he had on you. You felt trapped, powerless to move, pinned by the sheer discomfort of his presence.

"Adorable," he chuckled softly, his eyes slowly raking over you before he turned and headed back upstairs. The tension in the room eased ever so slightly as his footsteps faded, but the discomfort lingered.

Moments later, Liz came back from the bathroom, completely unaware of what had just happened. She sat down beside you, cheerful and relaxed, digging into her breakfast without a care in the world