Some warnings; Kinda non/con?? Drunk sex (kind of).
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You finished your drink and meal, reluctantly watching William down his second tequila. His hands had been shaking a bit ever since his appearance, and though worried, you didn't question it. He was probably still in shock about what he did to Mike. Getting up, you set the dishes in the sink and started slithering towards upstairs. A hand gripped your wrist, causing you to turn in surprise.
"Leaving your guest? That's rude," you heard his voice crack a bit. Eyes were bloodshot and red. Had he been crying earlier?? You sighed and sat down next to him on the other barstool, braiding a strand of your hair. "Honestly I don't care about manners. But y'know, I'd rather not die."
He popped open another bottle of the hardcore alcohol, chuckling lightly. "You've survived the longest so far. Hell, Im even starting to enjoy your company somewhat." You smirked, rolling your eyes. "As if. Wish I could lie like you, but I can't."
The Brit downed another bottle, hands wobbling a bit as he reached for another. "hey uh, kiddie killer? I think that's enough- you don't look well-" the sharp sound of a knife slamming into the wood startled you. Where your hand had reached out, a kitchen knife was placed in between two fingers.
Your eyes widened as the near drunk man popped off a tab and slammed the liquor down his throat. "Jeez, Darling. Who cares if I get a bit off my rocker? You're just some kid I'm gonna kill."
"Well I'd rather it not be today!" You spat, getting up. "Get your ass fiddled, I don't care! Leave me alone." You marched up to your room, slamming the door shut before slumping against it. You felt the dip in between your middle and index finger, swallowing in annoyance. He could have seriously injured you; reckless son of a bitch!
You decided to just nap, shifting into your covers as you slipped your shoes off onto the floor. A soft smile graced your lips as you dozed into a slumber. Your last thought was 'I hope I don't die in my sleep.'
You awoke abruptly to two hands grazing your sides slowly, eyes shooting open as you tried to pull away. The hands gripped harder, keeping you in place. "Why are you running, my sweet?" A deep british voice purred in your ear. His words were a bit slurred, undeniably drunk.
"Ahg- get off, William. This is fuckin' illegal in more ways than one," you groaned, turning your head. You wished you hadn't, his eyes glossy and mouth partly open in a sly smile. He looked kinda.... Hot, honestly. But you were immediately reminded of the fact he had killed children and planned on killing you.
You had no time to react as his eyes shifted to your lips before slamming into them, his own shifting to fit yours. He tasted of tequila and peppermint. Your body jolted in response to the kiss, one hand trailing up under your sweater to grip at your chest.
A moan unwillingly left your lips as guilt traveled into your lower gut. What about the children? Your boyfriend? His murdered wife?? You grunted as he pulled away, trying your best to shoo off his hands. They didn't budge and he only shifted closer to you. You prayed his shoes were off in your bed.
"Oh, my darling, I've wanted to do this for long," he purred again, massaging against your bra. Your brain stuttered, eyes widening. What did he say?? You didn't have time to speak as another kiss was planted on your lips, hands pushing the bra up and slightly rolling your nipples. A small gasp left your lips as you keened into his mouth. When he pulled away and crawled over you, you immediately became angry.
Am I really about to let a murderer rape me?
The answer was yes, because you were undeniably scared of being killed by him, too. Your sweater was flung off you, catching on your arms as he pulled it up and over. Next went your bra, something sickeningly hard now pressed against your thigh. Im not looking down.
His face nuzzled into your neck as he nipped at it, a smile tugging at his lips when you arched into his rough hands. Not because it felt good, oh no. More like because he was man-handling your tits like they were tools. It hurt, honestly. He wasn't even gentle in his own drunken state.
You groaned in anger when his left hand tugged at your pants, his ears deaf to your wanton sounds. "William-" he smiled and planted a kiss on your neck. "That's a good girl," he whispered. Did he... Did he think you were moaning?
You groaned when your pants came down, a long finger pressing against your covered folds. He cupped your cunt with his large, veiny hand, his eyes darkening as you whimpered. Stop stop stop stop stop. Charlie, save me, please. Please.
And then the back door slammed shut from the lower floor of the house. William's hand immediately removed itself, snapping his head back. "Y/N?" You heard a voice call. That voice was Benito's. "Move," you stated, pushing the stunned Brit away. Redressing as quick as possible, you ran down stairs. He was peeking aroun the kitchen, jumping when he saw you.
"What's up, Ben?" You asked, scratching your arm. He sighed and slumped against the wall. "My mom and I got into an argument and I ran off. Mind if I crash here for tonight?" Feeling like you were blessed from the Heavens themselves, you nodded. "Yeah! We have a guest room you can stay in. Want some dinner or somethin'?"
He smirked lightly and nodded, whispering a quick thanks as you took out some leftover hamburgers. "Tomato and lettuce only," he added as you prepared a plate. "Aight."
Serving him the undeniably amazing (but dry) burger, you sat down next to your friend. "So uh, when you gonna sleep? After you finish?" He shrugged and took a bite, covering his mouth with his hand. "Mind if we watch the new Hunger Games?" You shrugged, cringing internally. "Sure, why not."
Footsteps came from upstairs, making you sob mentally. William, please, no. He appeared anyways, hair ruffled and shirt a bit crumpled. Benito blinked and looked at you in confusion. "Is that Henry's business partner guy?"
"Y-yeah, he just came over to check up on me." You emphasized the last part, glaring back at those silver eyes. He didn't speak, simply rubbing his jaw as he yawned. "Yo, ew!" Benito cringed and turned his head. "Is he drunk?"
"Yep." You stated plainly, sighing. "Why don't you sit down, Mr. Afton?" He did as asked before immediately collapsing his head on the table. "Wow." Benito shrugged, your eyes widening. "That's it!?"
"Yeah, I mean. Not the most awkward situation I've been in. Like, one time a girl at my summer camp walked around with one tiddie out. None of the counselors stopped her, either." You scrunched up your face into a 'what the fuck' look, stifling a chuckle.
"Yeah, I know. Anyways," he took a final bite of his burger, wiping his hands on a napkin. "Let's watch that movie and leave the drunk british man in here".
YOU ARE READING
|°~ Crimson Covered Floors ~°|
Random|°~ After Y/N L/N's parents died in a freak plane crash, her "uncle" Henry opted to take her in. Though she was never allowed at Freddy's. Ever. She wasn't allowed to speak of Charlotte, Sammy, or his ex-wife, Tricia. Ever. Until her sixteenth birth...
