#michael afton/reader

[superstar-nan]

Fight Tooth and Nail

Day 5

Summary: You contemplate your strange relationship with Springtrap and talk with Michael about what to do next.

Words: 2,982

Fun stuff: Toxic relationships, insomnia, vague mention of child murder, and angst.

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You wanted to leave Fazbear’s Fright for good. You had never wanted to run from that place more, not even your first night there. You wanted to pack up and leave—no goodbye, no mystery solved—all for your own sanity. Or maybe you just didn’t want to face Michael after that. Perhaps if you were more selfish, you would have left. At the very least you would have gone to Michael’s home and straight to bed. 

But you didn’t leave. Because you loved your best friend and you didn’t want to make Michael take the bus.

Instead, you laid down in the backseat of your car; your face flushed, your brow knit, and your heart racing too fast to fall asleep.

You almost kissed Springtrap.

You almost kissed a murderer.

You almost kissed a nasty decaying rabbit robot possessed by a serial child killer who was almost definitely responsible for your best friend’s disappearance.

How could you have allowed that to happen? 

Silver eyes lidded with deep, sweet obsession.

You buried your head in your arms, curled up on your side in the back seat. Your cheeks felt warm against your skin.

The very thought of kissing him was ridiculous. Even if he didn’t hold a murderer’s blackened soul, you didn’t even know if it was physically possible. He had tattered felt and rotten teeth for lips and metal rods where his tongue should be. At the very best, it would be like kissing an old stuffed animal. An old stuffed animal that tastes like sewage.

But that didn’t matter. You didn’t want him because he was lovely, you wanted him because he was terrible. Because he was as vile and sick inside as he was out. You didn’t know why you were drawn to him because of that—you had thought it was because he played an easy villain in your black and white story, but if that was true how could you want him in that way? If he was only an object for your hatred, why did you melt at his sweet, obsessive gaze?

You couldn’t get the image of his silver eyes, laced with infatuation, out of your mind.

It was because he wanted you. He craved you. He needed you more than he needed to kill you, and that desire softened you. God, were you really that weak? Was his obsession all it took to dissolve your will?

No. It wasn’t.

You weren’t in love with him. You knew from how your heart went cold at the thought of him anything other than miserable. You wanted him—you wanted him tortured and loving and miserable and obsessed—but you didn’t love him. You were drawn to him like a moth to a flame, but you wouldn’t burn in the fire without him. Your hatred outweighed your desire.

How close was love and hate, anyway? 

Your breath felt heavy as you buried your face deeper into your arms. You wished you could stop thinking. You wanted to sleep, but sleep was avoiding you, and it was his fault. And because it was his fault, that only made you angrier, which chased sleep away even more—trapping you in this terrible, poisonous spiral. Maybe you could knock yourself out but smashing your head against the window. Maybe that would return your sanity and you’d stop lusting after rotten killer robots.

You couldn’t sleep. Minutes ticked by like hours and hours ticked by like an eternity. You laid curled in the backseat, unable to keep your mind away from the object of your hatred and desire, as the sun slowly stole any chance you had left of sleeping. It was only when light drifted into your car that dread started to pit into your stomach.

You would have to face Michael after petting his psycho dad on his lap. 

The more you thought of it, the more you wondered how much Michael really saw. The attraction was dark and the cameras were shit—he probably didn’t see much of what happened. Though, that left you with another problem, if he didn’t see what happened, what did he think happened? You were cornered by springtrap on camera, you were both on the floor for a while, and then he left you to run off unharmed—no new injury and no new scar. You didn’t kiss him, but did Michael believe that? Why else would you be allowed to live?

Why were you allowed to live? Another horrible problem to add to your piling list. The thought of Springtrap planning something awful enough to let you go without even a scratch was your limit. You didn’t have the bandwidth to even consider why he let you go, and so you wouldn’t. You knew you would regret that later, but you couldn’t force yourself even if you wanted to know what he had in store for you.

A shadow fell through the car window. You were still lying in the back seat, curled up with your face in your arms. Michael was back. You did not want to talk to him.

The car’s backseat door was opened softly, as if purposefully quiet. You didn’t move even then. 

There was a moment of tense silence. You wondered if he thought you were asleep. You hope he did.

A cold, spongy hand pet the top of your head tenderly. You were almost startled by the kind love in the gesture. Then, rough and chaffed lips kissed your crown. Your heart softened, and your troubles faded from view.

You tilted your head up, unburying your head from your arms. Michael’s void eyes widened. He must’ve thought you were asleep. He was kneeling in front of the car to match your eye level, the sunrise behind his dark hair in a corona of warmth. His mask was pulled down over his chin, but his cap and jacket were hiding him protectively. His mouth opened and closed, a silent stutter as he tried to articulate a way to explain himself. 

You couldn’t handle any harsh words or frustrated excuses, so you took his hand and kissed his palm. The strange texture of his rotten skin felt unnatural against your lips, but it didn’t unnerve you. In fact, it was oddly comforting; something becoming familiar to you. You had such trouble trying to fall asleep before, but for some reason just being around Michael made you sleepy.

Michael exhaled. He sounded tired. He sounded broken. A spark of curiosity flitted in your chest, but it was snuffed out by your own tiredness and brokenness. He used the hand you held to gently caress your face. You leaned into his hand, his thumb pressing softly against your cheek. When he pulled away, he looked genuinely taxed by it.

Michael closed the door, and you buried your face into your arms. You felt the front door open, the car jostling, and then the car humming to life. You didn’t rouse—not to put on your seatbelt, not to sit up, not to look outside—you stayed curled in the backseat with your eyes shielded from the light. Without seeing the road, you were more aware of how your body swayed to the car slowing, speeding, and turning. It was a short trip to Michael’s home, but it was made all the longer in your shame.

The car slowed to a stall, then to a stop with the jostling of keys. There was a beat of silence before the car door opened and shut. The air in the car was still. You vaguely heard the front door of Michael’s home open and close. In the sunlight, the car started to warm.

You pulled yourself up. You didn’t want to, but you knew if you stayed away from Michael for long, your mind would drift back to his vile father.

You were silent and cautious as you opened the front door. You heard the melodramatic static of Michael’s TV deeper in his home. You slipped past the door, cushioning its close behind you, and stalked into the living room. Colored light from the TV painted the edges of Michael’s silhouette, changing with each scene. You sat at the edge of the couch, holding a pillow against your chest and pulling your feet up on the cushions.

You watched the TV; whatever was playing was meaningless, which meant it was perfect. Your eyelids felt heavy. You sighed deeper into the couch.

“...I’m going to kill my dad.”

That woke you up. You whipped your head to Michael. He was still staring at the TV like it was interesting. 

“And I’m going to burn down Fazbear’s Fright,” He added.

You inhaled, quiet and purposefully subdued. What happened to Michael in those last hours you were in the car? He had always been so hesitant to tell you his intentions, and everytime you brought up killing his dad, he would change the subject. What changed? What was it that he ‘needed to make sure of’, and why did it resolve him to killing Springtrap? 

Whether the corpse would reveal his heart to you didn’t change your response, “Great.” You said, “I’ll help.”

Michael’s eyes, cold and void, dragged themselves from the TV to you. Just when you thought you were getting better at reading him, Michael was inscrutable. “...Is that what you really want?”

You hugged the pillow tighter to your body. Michael might as well have outright said he thought you were in love with Springtrap, and that filled you with poison, “More than anything.”

Michael’s cold expression didn’t change as those pitless eyes bore into you. You thought your hatred would help ease Michael’s suspicions. It didn’t. Maybe he found your passionate hatred just as unsettling as your love. You knew you did. “...Even more than finding your friend?”

Your heart broke, and Michael’s ice melted in an instant. You hugged the pillow in your arms tighter and turned toward the TV screen simply because it meant not looking at Michael. Hot, painful tears stung at your eyes and you tried to blink them away. “Of course, not.” Your voice was forceful and quiet.

Michael extended a hand, rotten fingers hovering over your shoulder for a fraction of a second, before he withdrew from you. It hurt your heart more that he decided not to comfort you. Michael let out a shaky exhale. The TV played dramatic monotony that wasn’t enough to fill the stale air, “You shouldn’t come.”

“I’m going,” You said almost instantly.

“I can’t protect you while I’m-”

“What?” You turned to him sharply, “Dodging Springtrap, trying to catch the place on fire? I doubt you’d even get to light a spark.”

Michael exhaled through his abraded nose, a frustrated and tense sound.

“Do you want to douse the place in gasoline?” You said, “Let me help.” 

Michael rubbed his hand over his mouth and jaw, a tightness in his movement. After a breath of thought, he said, “You can man the cameras.”

“What?” You almost laughed at that, “I don’t even know how to work them.”

“It’s intuitive,” He said. “And when you see Spring Bonnie, play the audio in the room away from me.”

“I can barely pick him out on the cameras!” You shook your head, “You said he was getting more aggressive and erratic, how am I supposed to keep him from you?”

“You can-” Michael paused, biting his torn, purple lip. “You can do it.”

“No, nuh-uh, you paused,” You crossed your arms. “You know I can’t do it. Let me pour the gas.”

“No,” Michael said your name, but you interrupted him.

“I’ve already circled the attraction enough to have it memorized.”

He said your name again, but you went on anyway.

“All while avoiding Springtrap, and even hurting him a few times.”

“Please-!”

“Even if he did catch me, I’d be a better distraction than-”

“NO!” 

Instinctively, you pulled away from Michael. That was louder than you had ever heard him.

“...No...” He kept his eyes downcast and you knew he hadn’t meant to yell. He pursed his shredded lips together, slowly tapping on the couch—a habit betraying his anxiety—and you saw his teeth grind together from beyond his cheeks. “Just... stay in the office.”

You swallowed, shifting the pillow around in your arms. The TV painted the two of you in muted colors, and you couldn’t let it play in the background anymore. You tentatively took the remote and turned off the TV. “...Why?” You made your voice quiet.

Without the dull light of the TV, your only light source were the golden flecks of sunlight from behind closed blinds. Void eyes were filled with pain as they briefly met yours. He cast them aside just as quickly. Rotten fingers dug into the worn fabric of the couch. His dark hair curtained his face, keeping you from seeing his expression.

You bit the inside of your cheek. You worried if you said anything it would only convince him to bottle up more.

Michael turned slightly toward you, but kept his eyes glued to the floor. “I was there, you know... Years ago, at Freddy’s...”

You held your breath.

“...I-... I didn’t see him do it. I didn’t see him kill them. But I saw them before. I didn’t know he was-” Michael swallowed. “He would wait until one was alone. He talked to them as Spring Bonnie. He would beckon them—like this,” Michael held out his hand as if he was offering it to you, before he clasped it in a fist, repulsed by the gesture. “They always took his hand. Even then, I felt like something was off. I wasn’t a child. I could’ve-”

You took his hand immediately, even as it was closed, “You couldn’t have known.”

Michael’s hand shook under your own, a wavering exhale leaving his tattered lips, “...No. But I know now.” He finally brought his midnight eyes to you, sullen with more than just rot and death. He clasped your hand in his, and the forcefulness of it surprised you. “I can’t lose you to him. I can’t lose you like how I lost them to him. Or like how I lost Charlie, or Elizabeth-” Michael stopped abruptly at the name of his sister. He took a deep breath through stalled lips. “I can’t lose you to him, too. If I could save just one...” 

Your brow furrowed with both pity and conflict, “Michael... You can’t put that on yourself. You can’t put that on me. You’re- You’re not responsible for-”

“I know,” Michael’s voice was soft, but it held so much weight. He chewed his bottom tattered lip, “I know... But, please... I need you-” His words caught in his throat and he inhaled sharply. “... I need you to be safe. Please.”

You thought you would break under the pressure of his stare. How could you refuse him? How could you ever tell him you were willing to burn if that meant Springtrap burned too? When he looked at you with so much desperation, so much agony—the agony of a decades-long burden you didn’t understand—how could you say anything other than, “Okay... I-... I’ll try.”

Michael said your name in a broken exhale, not satisfied with your superficial reassurance.

“I’ll stay in the office,” You said. “I will. Unless I see a clue or-or anything that points to my friend still being at the attraction.” You swallowed, “I can’t let them burn with the place. I won’t.”

Michael lowered his eyes and nodded, “I’ll look for them.”

Tears felt like they would burn your eyes again, so you squeezed Michael’s hand and gave him your best attempt at a smile, “While you’re dumping gasoline over the cheap decorations?”

Michael breathed out a half-laugh half-sigh, “Yes. I don’t think it will take much. The place is already a fire hazard.”

“I’ll be glad to see the place burn...” You said, and your heart thrummed at the thought of the place burning down. Of him burning down. You wanted to watch it happen. Maybe it was a good thing you would be in the security room, then you could watch it happen. Though, you would have preferred setting the spark yourself, seeing his rage and pain with your own eyes, him knowing you were the one to-

Michael squeezed your hand and you were brought back to reality. It was better you weren’t the one to light the spark. 

“Can you teach me how to use the cameras?” You said, “And tell me where Springtrap likes to hide?”

“Yeah...” Michael looked as lost as you were, searching your face as if you were the one that was inscrutable. “Yeah, I can draw you a picture actually.”

You thought back to his doodling in his security booklet and hummed, “Convenient.”

Michael scoffed, “I guess. It will be “convenient” if it saves my life.”

You laughed, before you paused, “Wait, you can die?”

Void eyes deadpanned, before an exasperated sigh left tattered lips, as if you asked something unreasonable—as if it was absurd to even ask! Michael stood up, shifting the weight on the couch, “I’m going to go draw those pictures now.”

“Don’t act like that’s not a valid question!” You threw a pillow at him while he left, which he caught and put back on the couch, “How would I know?”

“Get some sleep,” He said. “You look tired.”

“You look worse,” You said, but he was right. You were exhausted. Michael sat at his kitchen table and you thought about going to his bed to sleep, but hearing the sound of his pen scratching paper was soothing. You worried your mind would drift back to Springtrap without the white noise of Michael’s movement, and if you thought about Springtrap you wouldn’t get any sleep. So, you curled up on the couch and focused on the pen scratching on paper, and almost instantly you drifted into darkness...

[lucigooseart]

matthew lillard & his legacy <3

-

a ray of sunshine and a constant inspiration.

[strawhbrrries]

Movement

pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader

summary: a double date that leads to mike schmidt coming home with you in the name of "helping your friend" and he ends up fucking you.

warnings: unprotected sex, no foreplay, creampie??, female pronouns, slight degrading??, pet names, heavy cussing, mike being hashtag v hot, no established relationship, porn with no plot, not proofread

word count: 2.1k words

author’s note: listen to movement by hozier for the full experience!!! I know this fic wasn't voted to be the first mike one to be posted but I had to do it okay!!!! he's so hot n sexy in this and i need him badly...please enjoy! mwah!

Your eyes scanned the restaurant in front of your car, you were promised a very nice dinner with a very nice man and the place you ended up might as well have been a denny’s. Gia somehow managed to rope you into a double date and as the amazing friend you are, you obliged. Now, you wanted to take it back. If the guy you were set up with wasn’t just an absolute heartthrob you might consider strangling her in the bathroom.

“Gia, this better be the best damn food and the hottest men you have ever experienced or I’m never doing you another favor ever again.” You teased, getting out of your car as she walked up to it.

“I swear he said this place was nicer! Thank you so much babes, I owe you one!” She responded, slipping her arm inside of yours to walk inside. “Maybe the inside is really nice and it’s just a shady exterior.”

You’d never seen the man Gia was seeing tonight so when the two of you arrived at the table you weren’t sure which man was yours, but you knew which one you wanted. He looked gentle, shaggy hair untamed almost like he wasn’t prepared to go on a date tonight. 

“I suppose I’m your date.” He smiled softly, getting up to pull your chair out for you. “I’m MIke, you look uh, really beautiful tonight.”

After the introductions and small talk the two of you hit it off right away, it helped that Gia and her date were more interested in each other than remembering that the people they brought also existed.  The more you talked the more Mike came out of his shell, he wasn’t as shy as you first pegged him to be. Your heel was slowly caressing his calf, neither of you were quite sure when it had ended up there but he wasn’t complaining.

“A man in uniform is hot.” Your flirting was a little rusty, but it seemed to be working just fine for you.

“It’s just a security gig.” He shrugged it off, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. 

You grabbed the straw of your drink, wrapped your tongue around it, and took a sip. Mike choked slightly but covered it up with a cough, adjusting his pants under the table at the same time. 

“She’s not going to go home with him unless I go home with you.” You whispered in his ear as you leaned over the table, tangling your fingers in his hair to trick Gia into thinking you were whispering something dirty. “I’d really like to go home with you.”

You could feel the heat creep up his neck, his face was flushed. His heart might as well be on the outside of his chest with the intensity that it was beating, it’d been a long time since he’d been on a date or even gotten laid but Abby was at home and that just wouldn’t work.

“Uhm, my sister’s at home, can we go to your place?” Mike’s saliva was thick and pooling in his mouth, it felt almost impossible to swallow. He had to be dreaming, this just didn’t make sense otherwise. He was just doing his friend a favor and now your breath was hot on his neck and his jeans were uncomfortably tight.

The second the two of you walked outside he got fidgety, like he was going to take off the second you let go of his hand. Frankly he was surprised you hadn’t let go of it the second you picked it up, he was dripping sweat from the moment he realized you were his date. He quickly made a mental note to send a letter to the company who made his preferred deodorant, the fact that he didn’t smell absolutely putrid spoke volumes on their product.

“So did you mean what you said inside? Because I’m perfectly okay with just going home.” 

“I meant it, don’t be so nervous.” You smiled back at him, handing him the keys to your car.

The tension was thick, his knuckles were white as he tried to keep his focus on the road ahead and making it back to your place safely and not the fingers drawing figures on his thigh as you spoke about something he couldn’t quite grasp. 

Your place wasn’t too far from the restaurant that Gia’s date had picked, that Mike was thankful for. The longer he had to endure the torture that was your fingers on this thighs, the less his ability to be a gentleman and control himself existed. If it was up to him, he’d probably just pulled over and fucked you in the backseat of your own car but it wasn’t. He was a gentleman, he’d just met you all of a few hours ago, he knew better.

“This is the place.” You smiled softly as he pulled into your driveway.

“It’s nice.” He stated, handing your car keys back to you and taking your hand. “Suits you.”

Mike’s eyes wandered the walls, taking in every aspect of you, as you led him through the house. It didn’t take him long to notice that you lived alone, another thing he was now thankful for. His fingers trailed the zipper of your dress as he stood behind you in your bedroom, his other hand rubbing your arm and leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

“Are you going to take it off?” Your voice was shaky and quiet, for the first time tonight you were nervous. 

“And you thought I was the eager one.” He chuckled, tugging your hair back softly to give him just enough access to your face to make eye contact with you. “Do you get off on bringing strangers to your home and having them fuck you?”

A soft whimper escaped your lips, blessing the ears of the man behind you who responded with a groan. His lips made contact with your neck, biting and sucking at any of the skin he had access to. The hand that was holding your hair back made itself busy drawing the zipper of your dress further and further down until it couldn’t go any further, you shivered as the cold air hit your back. 

Mike detached himself from your neck and took a step back, briefly admiring how disheveled you looked despite still being fully dressed, he made a quick motion for you to turn around and you obliged almost immediately. If you got his dick any harder it might’ve fallen off before he ever got the chance to use it. 

He backed you into the bed, laying you down and sliding your dress off and into a pile on the floor. Another deep groan was emitted into the air as he took in the sight in front of him, you hadn’t worn a bra and the underwear you’d chosen left nothing to the imagination. Mike immediately started thanking whatever god was above for you and the experience he was about to have. 

Your heart was pounding out of your chest. Truthfully, you hadn’t planned on sleeping with anyone tonight but then you saw him and your entire plan was flipped upside down. You lied about your friend not going home with her date if you didn’t leave with him, you didn’t want him to think you were desperate but he knew now. The second he touched the zipper of your dress, anything left of your facade was gone. You needed him.

“If you weren’t so fucking wet I would’ve thought you were only doing me a favor.” He spoke nonchalantly, rubbing his finger over your folds through your underwear. “ Or maybe you’re just a whore? Huh?”

“For you.” You choked out, words getting caught in your throat over his words. 

At the beginning of the night you would’ve placed money on the fact that he wasn’t capable of things like this, it was like another side of him had come out during the drive to your house. You weren’t complaining, his words were getting to you in a way you’d never experienced. 

“Yeah? For me? Mikey’s own personal whore.” He slipped your underwear to the side and slid his finger through your folds, collecting your juices and bringing them to his mouth. “You’re as sweet as you look, need a honey jar full of you.”

You cried out at him softly, trying to use anything you had to stop his teasing. He was winding you up but edging you right before you could pop, he could’ve said anything and you would’ve agreed just to get him to fuck you. Being this desperate for a man you hardly knew was an exhilarating experience. 

“Please, I need you.” You whined, grabbing at his shirt in a desperate plea. “Please.”

“Good job using your words, pretty girl.” Mike praised, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down, throwing them in the same pile as your dress.

His clothes soon joined yours on the floor, a small pout emerging when you realized you wouldn’t be able to suck him off, his eyes catching yours as he climbed up your body. He kissed his way up, biting occasionally. Fingers tracing your skin just as you had done to him earlier in the night, lighting a fire on your skin as they went. It was like his body was made to fit yours, like your souls had searched for each other through every lifetime and yet this was the first time they had met.

His lips finally met yours for the first time, teeth nipping at your bottom lip as he pulled away to breathily whisper something in your ear. You shook your head in agreement at whatever he said, as long as he kept touching you like that and making noises in your ear you’d agree to anything he said to you. 

Shaking your head yes was the best decision you’d made so far, you felt two fingers slip inside of you. Thrusting for a few moments before they were replaced by the tip of his cock, slowly pushing in as his mouth found one of your nipples. The gentle man you had once perceived had been replaced by a god who was hung like a horse, splitting you in half with the cock fit for a god.

“Fuck.” Mike moaned, tipping his head back when he bottomed out, taking your legs and placing them on his shoulders. “So good, pretty girl.”

Anything you had planned on responding with quickly dissipated the second he pulled out and thrusted back in, a low groan coming out insead. His fingers were digging into your thighs as he held them up where he wanted them, all you could hope for was the imprints bruising as a reminder that this actually happened. What hair that wasn’t sticking to his skin from the sweat covering it was dangling backwards freely, all his focus was on not cumming too soon and if he continued to look at you he definitely would.

Your eyes had glossed over a long time ago, tears streaming down the sides as a byproduct of the blissful state his cock had put you in, fingers gripping desperately at the sheets and your tits bouncing with each thrust. He was once again praying to every god that he would get to do this another time, then he could sear the image of you under him into his mind.

“Mike, Mikey I need..” You whined, the knot in your stomach twisting and turning, threatening to spill before you could even finish a coherent thought.

“C’mon pretty girl, you can do it, let it go.” He praised you, bringing his thumb down to your clit and drawing figure eights in time with his thrusts to help your orgasm spill over.

His words were the final piece in the puzzle, your orgasm hitting you soon after he spoke. Legs shaking, mind blowing, tears, and silent moans was all your body could do at the supernova your orgasm had proved to be. You’d never cum this hard before but if every orgasm after didn’t measure up, he had ruined you. 

“You did so good.” Was all you heard as you came down from your high, Mike’s hands soothed down your hair as he whispered into your ear. 

His thrusts continued at the same pace for only a few seconds before his hips stuttered and he painted your insides white. 

“I guess tonight wasn’t a total waste.” You joked quietly, turning to the side to smile at him as he laid down next to you. 

“We need to do this more often.”

[pasukiyo]

BEAUTIFUL THING

mike schmidt x f!reader word count; 2,573 warnings; smut, no plot, just porn :D summary; there was nothing in the world she wanted more than mike schmidt. but what were the chances he'd ever make a move on her?

 She wanted Mike Schmidt.

 Don’t get her wrong, she absolutely adored Abby, she was sweet, funny, and overall not a hard kid to take care of. But she knew all too well what her intentions were when she agreed to take up the babysitting job— how could she say no when he looked at her like that with those big, deep brown eyes?

 It was another late night spent at the Schmidt house— Mike had just gotten himself a new job with unholy hours, some late night security gig he had no choice but to take. Her mouth opened in a yawn and through her bleary vision, she blinked down to the watch on her wrist. 

 4:30 AM. Mike wouldn’t be back for another hour and a half or so. 

 She sighed and threw her head back against the cushions, staring absentmindedly at the television as some old cartoon played, audio soft and muffled. She wasn’t sure why she even bothered trying to stay up for Mike— she’d been babysitting for him for months, (without pay, might she add) and still, neither he nor she had made any moves. She wasn’t even sure if he ever even intended to make a move on her. 

 But she was just so certain that he felt at least some sort of attraction towards her. She could see it in the way he looked at her, how his eyes would absentmindedly trail down her body against his better judgment, how he’d pull the inside of his bottom lip between his teeth while he did. She could see it in the way his body would react when she came too close, like when she gave him a handshake or playfully shoved his shoulder.

 It was the same way she reacted when he was close. 

 Surely it couldn’t all be for nothing?

 Her eyelids were falling heavy against her eyes and she slowly slumped further into the cushions of the couch, hands tightening around the blanket around her body. Sleep was so close that she could reach out and feel it, and she would’ve slipped into the arms of slumber if it hadn’t been for the opening and closing of the front door. 

 She grumbled and furrowed her brows down at her watch. 

 4:35 AM. Mike wasn’t supposed to be home yet. 

 At the notion, she jolted and snapped her head towards the entrance, her heart thrumming against her chest as she prepared herself for the sight of a total stranger, ready to make a run straight for Abby’s room. She blinked and narrowed her eyes at the dark silhouette of the figure as it hung its coat on the rack bolted on the wall. 

 “Sorry. S’ just me.”

 She knew that voice. It was a voice she always dreamed about, a voice belonging to someone she’d seen practically everyday.

 “Mike?” Her voice came out rough, having not spoken for hours, not since Abby had gone to bed. “What are you doing home so early?” She asked as she pushed herself further up the sofa while Mike made his way towards the recliner, wiping a hand down his face before plopping down into the seat. She could only make out his face through the light from the television but even then, she could sense something was off. 

 Mike tapped his fingers against the armrest of the recliner, “I… I just… needed to leave… I guess,” he replied and she frowned, scooting to the far side of the couch closest to him. “Is… is everything alright?” She questioned, unsure whether or not he needed consoling. Mike leaned further back into his seat and let his eyelids flutter closed, inhaling deep through his nostrils. 

 “Just… is Abby asleep?” He finally asked after a moment and she nodded, humming. “She went down earlier than usual. Actually managed to get her to eat something,” she replied, her lips curving into a smile but quickly faltering again when she realized Mike wasn’t going to reciprocate. He looked almost… distraught. 

 Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she pondered her options. She’d known Mike for some time but even then, she still knew little to nothing about him. He slept a lot, that was for sure. And he loved his little sister and was trying so hard to be exactly the type of person she needed. But she knew nothing about him, Mike Schmidt himself. She didn’t know what he did in his free time, what he liked to eat, if he had hobbies, nothing. 

 Hell, she’d spent so much time fantasizing about him and filling in all the holes herself, she hardly even acknowledged that he could be somebody entirely else. She didn’t know the first thing about him.

 But she could learn to try. 

 She leaned forward, a steady hand warily finding his on the armrest of the recliner and she flinched when Mike snapped his eyelids open, looking between her and their touching hands. Their gazes surged into one another and she made no moves, as if seeking any sign that she should stop.

 Mike’s heart thrummed so hard inside his chest, it was a miracle that she couldn’t hear it. She looked at him as if she were asking permission— permission to what, he hadn’t even the slightest clue. But in spite of the voices inside of his head telling him he shouldn’t, that he shouldn’t let her, that he was wrong for her, he did. How could he say no when she looked at him like that, as if he were the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid eyes upon?

 His silence gave her the confidence to let her fingers creep further down to the back of his hand, flipping it around until they rested against the heel of his palm. Slowly, she soothed the tips of her fingers up his palm until they fell between the cracks of his, letting her digits curl around his knuckles. Mike shuddered at the touch and let his own fingers press down against hers and he watched as she raised their intertwined hands to her mouth, their gazes molded together as she pressed her lips against his skin. His lips trembled as they fell open and he narrowed his eyes, clinging onto the last bit of restraint he had left. 

 “You can relax with me, Mike,” she whispered against his skin, pressing another soft kiss to the knuckle of his ring finger. “You don’t have to worry while I’m around.”

 Mike pressed his lips back together and fought back the urge to groan at her words, his eyes wandering from their hands, down her arm, to her chest where it pressed against the edge of the sofa. His breath shuddered when he exhaled and the rubber band stretched inside of him finally released and with it, the last of his restraint. 

 Fuck it, he thought. It’s been long enough.

 Mike tugged her closer by the hand and her lids widened, a squeal slipping from her lips, in which he was swift to eat right up, pressing his mouth against hers. With his hand not intertwined with hers, he gripped her hip, working his way up to her waist to squeeze. The sound she made was muffled inside their admittedly messy kiss and he pulled her even closer, her knees having nowhere to go but on the outside of his thighs. 

 Mike groaned and pulled away to catch his breath as her hips ground down against his, already feeling frustrated with the growing erection in his jeans. He blinked up at the woman on top of him, her arms thrown over his shoulders, her chest heaving as she chased air back into her lungs. She stared down at him with hazy irises, still bleary from lack of sleep. 

 “Sorry,” Mike finally managed to breathe out, his palms resting on either of her thighs. “Probably a little much, wasn’t it?”

 He watched as the corners of her lips curved into a grin and she chuckled breathlessly, shaking her head. “Not enough,” she tittered as she surged her lips back into his, one of her hands on his shoulders slithering their way into his mess of dark tendrils, fingers curling and tugging at his roots. He hissed inside her mouth and dug his fingernails into her skin, a whimper falling from her lips, allowing him to take control of the situation. 

 He pressed himself forward and reached for the end of her t-shirt and she briefly broke away to allow the fabric up and over her head, her own fingers already working at the buckle of his belt. Mike leaned forward to pepper kisses all across the tops of her breasts and she threw her head back as he took over in undoing his belt, ripping it from his loops and throwing open the button and zipper of his jeans. 

 She clambered off of him as he raised his hips to tug his pants and boxers down just enough to allow his erection to spring free of its restraints, feeling her stomach do a somersault at the sight as she stripped herself of her own shorts and panties. Mike fought the urge to wrap his hands around his cock as she reached behind her back to undo the clasps of her bra and time seemed to slow as the straps fell from her shoulders, the lave toppling to the floor altogether. 

 He swore he could feel his mouth water and never before this moment had he wanted something, or someone, more. He blinked up at her, following her gaze down to his lap and at his erection that stood tall, waiting for her, dripping with pre-cum. 

 Mike cocked an eyebrow, “you just gonna stand there or you gonna take it?” He asked, voice low and husky and fuck, she thought she’d drop dead right then and there. Still, this was a dangerous game they were playing. “What about Abby?” She whispered, glancing towards the hallway where Abby’s room was. “What if she wakes up?”

 Mike pressed his lips together and bucked his hips, raising a leg to softly give her calf a kick. “You can be quiet, right?” He murmured in question and she felt herself clench from his voice alone. Here Mike Schmidt was, cock out and erect, all because of her. This was something she had only dreamed of— never did she think that this would become reality. 

 Mike cocked his eyebrow again and she shook herself from her thoughts, taking his hand as he guided her back onto his lap. Her body shuddered and her bones rattled as she began to sink herself down, jolting when the tip brushed against her cunt, teeth sinking down into the plush of her bottom lip to contain her sounds. 

 “It’s okay,” Mike whispered. “I got you.”

 Her eyes about rolled in the back of her head at that as his hands kneaded at the flesh of either of her hips, guiding her further down his length, making sure to go agonizingly slow to ensure she felt every single fucking inch of cock inside of her. Tears brimmed the outskirts of her eyelids as she finally sat still on his lap, filled to the brim with cock. Mike let her head fall down against the curve of his shoulder, burying her nose into the crook of his neck as she allowed time to adjust to his size, simultaneously trying to keep her sounds to a minimum. 

 “You’re so tight,” Mike’s breath shuddered in her ear and his voice made goosebumps litter her skin, his fingertips like the icy breath of a ghost against her back. “You think you can handle moving now?” He asked in a whisper against the shell of her ear and she nodded, letting him grab her thighs and push her further up his cock until just the head remained. She cried against his neck when he sank her all the way back down his length, the lewd noise of their wet skin slapping together making her clench around him. “Fff… uuck,” he dragged his curse out as he snapped his hips up against her.

 “Shit!” She gasped as he thrusted again and again and again. And she let him. She let him use her in whatever way he pleased. 

 “Gonna be good for me?” He muttered next to her ear. “Gonna let me take care of you, hm?” She nodded, bobbing her head up and down against his shoulder as he snapped his hips up to hers again and again, daring the coil inside her belly to snap. “Think you can handle it?” He asked again and she nodded once more, crying and biting down on his collar. “Yes!” She cried, fortunately muffled against his skin. 

 So Mike thrusted again, harder and harder, chasing that high, that release he so desperately needed. He could tell she was close— it’d probably been so long since she’d been stuffed by cock like this. She’d probably been waiting for this moment just as long as he has. 

 With the pad of his thumb, he pressed down against her aching bud and Mike could feel a fresh new set of tears soak his skin as she cried, bucking her hips into his touch. His thrusts were as sloppy as they were powerful and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take. 

 “Mmm… Mike… I’m… I’m gonna…” she hardly managed to stutter out, slowly feeling the coil inside her stomach as it began to unravel. 

 “Yeah?” Mike said, his other hand wrapped around her neck and pushing her forehead down against his, gazing up at her closed eyelids. He rolled his head against hers, “look at me,” he breathed out and watched as she slowly fluttered her lids back open, just as more fat tears beaded down her cheeks. The sight was enough to get him to teeter on the edge himself. 

 “Gonna come?” He asked and she nodded, sweat-slicked forehead lolling against his. He nodded too, already feeling her release around him as she spawned around his cock, relying solely on him and his body to keep herself up. She buried her face in the crook of his neck again as she whined and cried, Mike’s thrusts speeding up as he gave himself that final push he needed to send himself reeling, spiraling and shaking with the force of his release. 

 “Fuck,” he growled into the skin just below her ear, squeezing his eyelids shut tighter as he willed himself to keep his sounds on the low, for the sake of his little sister sleeping just in the other room. 

 Silence fell over Mike and the babysitter for a good, long moment as they both recovered from their highs, chasing air back into their lungs as the realization of what they had just done began to sink in. Mike should be mortified— she was his sister’s babysitter, he doesn’t have time for this, she doesn’t deserve him, he shouldn't have done this. 

 But the woman in his lap settled herself closer into him, nuzzling her nose against the crook of his neck, her lips like a crescent moon against his skin as she placed a soft kiss to his flesh there. 

 “I hope you’re okay, Mike,” she whispered and he threw his head back, an arm thrown around her body as he stared up at the ceiling. How could he push her away now?

a/n; so yeah!!! i watched fnaf on friday and it kinda sorta just brought back my whole josh hutcherson phase so enjoy!! this was just a quick little something i wrote up and there's like no plot at all and not proofread LMAO

[nim-rambles]

CONFESSION!!

“…you like me? Tough shit..” He muttered under his breath as his cheeks turned pink.

“I guess we could give it a try…” He said to you, a hand on your shoulder.

-Wanderer, Katsuki Bakugo, Dabi, Michael Afton(Teen), Sanemi Shinazugawa, Iguro Obanai, Tyler Hernandez, Muichiro Tokito(Before S3). /+Your Favourites

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Lil Note: Hearts, Comments and Reblogs are Appreciated🤍

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[slut4megantheestallion]

Warnings ⚠️: William afton x reader, possessiveness, William being a creep, age gap, degradation, Michael secretly likes the reader, smut, reader is of age.

(Writers note: This story is inspired by a fanfic I read from @orionlain, that William afton fanfic was so good, like I'm obsessed, so I wrote this dedicated to you.)

"Unspoken Desire"

Michael had been your best friend for as long as you could remember. You two had grown up side by side, sneaking out late at night, causing trouble in the neighborhood, and sharing secrets no one else knew. Despite his tough exterior - his love for cigarettes, graffiti, and scaring his little brother with that stupid Foxy mask - he had a soft spot for you he always did.

His siblings adored you. Elizabeth would cling to you whenever you came over, begging you to play tea party with her or let her braid your hair. Evan, usually shy and withdrawn, would light up when he saw you, always wanting to sit next to you at dinner.

Michael pretended he didn't care, but you saw the way his face turned red whenever Elizabeth called you "pretty" or when his father actually acknowledged your presence - someone he rarely did with Michael.

And then there was Michael's Dad, William Afton.

He was an enigma, always composed, always watching. Unlike other adults, he didn't seem to dismiss you like just another teenager. Instead, he observed his cold silver-grey- blue eyes studying you with intensity that sent an odd shiver down your spine.

You never thought much of it at first. After all, he was Michael's father. Strict, intelligent, a bit intimidating - but nothing out of the ordinary. Or so you believed.

It was late at night. The house was quiet, the only sounds coming from the ticking clock in the hallway and Michael's light snoring from the couch. You've slept over at Michael's place often, but something about tonight felt different kinda sinister.

Curiosity got the best of you, leading you down the dimly lit hall. The basement door was slightly ajar, a silver of golden light cutting through the darkness. You hesitated, but the low hum of machinery and the occasional clinking of metal piqued your interest.

Peering inside, your breath hitched.

William stood at his workbench, sleeves rolled up, his lean but strong frame illuminated by the glow of his desk lamp. He was working on something - an animatronic, its metal frame half- assembled, wires spilling out like exposed veins.

"You're up late, darling," his voice cut through the silence, smooth and deliberate.

You swallowed, stepping fully into the room. "Sorry, I... heard a noise."

He turned to face you, and for a moment, there was something unreadable in his gaze. Then, a slow smile curved his lips. "Curious little thing, aren't you?"

Your face warmed at his words. There was something about the way he spoke - low, almost amused - that made your stomach twisted.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," you murmured, glancing at the animatronic. "I just... didn't know you built them yourself."

He wiped his hands on a rag, stepping closer. "It's a passion of mine." His eyes flickered over you, lingering. "Would you like to see?"

You nodded, unable to find your voice as he gestured for you to come closer.

The scent of oil and metal filled your nose as you stood besdie him, his presence unnervingly close. He explained his work, but you found it so hard to focus on his words when his voice was so velvety smooth with his British accent, each syllable sending an unexplainable heat down your spine.

Then, his hand brushed against yours - subtle, deliberate. Your breath caught.

"You're quiet the distraction, you know." He murmured, but you heard clearly.

Your heart pounded. "What do you mean?"

William chuckled, low and knowing, "You really don't see it, do you?" His fingers lifted, tracing a featherlight touch along your jaw. "How utterly captivating you are."

Your skin burned under his touch, a mix of fear and something else entirely swirling inside you. You had always found him attractive - though you never admitted it. He was older, Michael's father, off-limits.

And yet, here you were, alone in the dimly lit basement, his gaze heavy on you.

"Tell me, darling." He whispered, his lips dangerously close. "Have you ever been touched like this before?"

Your breath hitched as he leaned in, his voice intoxicating.

His fingers traced along your jaw, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his piercing gaze. There was something unreadable in his expression - something that made your stomach twist in a way you couldn't explain.

"You spend so much time with my son," William murmured, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. "And yet... I wonder if you've ever noticed how different we are."

Your breath caught. "Different?"

He chuckled, low and smooth, his grip tightening just ended to make your pulse race. "Michael's a foolish boy. Reckless. Always chasing after trouble." His eyes flickered over your face, drinking in every detail. "But you... you're so much more careful. Much more... delicate."

A shiver ran down your spine. You should have pulled away. Should have said something. But the way he looked at you - like he had decided you belonged to him - left you frozen in place.

"Tell me," he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Does Michael know how easily you tremble under my touch?"

Your face burned as his other hand trailed down your arm, his touch slow, deliberate. You swallowed hard, unable to form a response.

William's smirk deepened. "No, I don't imagine he does." He murmured, his voice dripping with amusement, as if he were indulging in some private joke. His thumb brushed over against your knuckles, slow and deliberate.

Your breath hitched. He was too close now, his sharp, silver silver-grey-blue eyes studying your face like he was committing every detail to memory. "You seem nervous," he observed, tilting his head slightly. "Am I making you uncomfortable, dear?"

You swallowed hard, shaking your head quickly too quickly. "No! I mean... I just - I wasn't expecting to see you down here."

He chuckled, the sound low and velvety. "Ah, but surprises can be.. exciting, don't you think?" His free hand reached up, fingers barely grazing your jaw as he tucked a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. "And I do enjoy exciting things."

Your heart pounded, your body betraying you as your face grew hot. His words felt heavier than they should have, dripping with something unspoken.

"You've been such a good little guest in my home," William continued, voice barely above a whisper now, his fingers still resting against your jaw. "So polite, so sweet..." His smirk widened, his gaze darkening. "Such a tempting little thing you are."

Your breath stilled. This was dangerous. You weren't naive - you knew the way his eyes lingered, the way his touch felt just a little too intimate to be casual.

"Tell me," he leaned in just slightly,enough for you to feel his breath against yur skin, "Do you really think I haven't noticed the way you look at me?"

Your stomach twisted, heat rising to your cheeks. "I- I don't know what you mean, Mr. Afton-"

A low chuckle rumbled in his throat. "Oh, but you do," he murmured, his fingers trailing lower, brushing against the delicate pulse of your throat. "You've always been such a sweet little thing, haven't you? So polite, so eager to please... No wonder Michael keeps you close."

The mention of Michael should have snapped you back to reality, should have reminded you that this - whatever this was - shouldn't be happening. And yet, the way William studied you, like a puzzle he was piecing together with precision, made it impossible to step away.

He sighed, almost mockingly. "Such a shame, really.. the way he takes you for granted." His fingers trailed down to length of your arm, slow and deliberate. "If I had something as lovely as you. I'd make sure you knew your worth."

Your lips parted, but no words came out. The room suddenly felt too warm, the dim light casting sharp shadows over this sharp features.

William smirked, sensing your hesitation. "No need to be shy, dove. I see the way your hands tremble, the way your breath catches.. Is it fear?" His hand slid behind your waist, pulling you flush against the desk. "Or is it something else?"

William's grip tightened at your waist, fingers digging in just enough to make you shiver. "I think," he murmured, voice rich with amusement. "You like the attention, don't you, bunny?"

Before you could respond, he lifted you up with ease, setting you down onto the desk. The cold surface met the warmth of your skin, sending a jolt through you. Your pulse pounded as he stood between your legs, his presence overwhelming, suffocating in the best way.

His hands traced up your thighs, slow, skilled, deliberate, his touch rough with callouses. "So soft," he mused, fingers pressing in spreading you open just enough to make you gasp in pleasure. "A delicate little thing like you, trembling for me... Tell me, love, do you have any idea how irresistible you are?"

Your breath hitched as he leaned in, his lips ghosting against your ear. "I've thought about this," he admitted, voice low, sinful. "About having you like this, beneath me, taking every inch I give you."

A sharp click cut through the air, and your eyes dropped to his hands. Williams fingers worked through at the buckle of his belt, slow, deliberate, his gaze locked onto yours as he pulled it free from the loops. The leather hissed against the fabric of his slacks, the sound sending a fresh wave of anticipation through you.

You couldn't help but stare at the veiny cock, it wasn't it was big like you you seen in porn magazines,it was throbbing, a bit veiny, and thick, for such a skinny man, he had a really big dick.

William chuckled at the way your face looks at his cock, He interrupted your thoughts. "Keep those pretty eyes on me, dove." He instructed, smirking as he let the belt drop to the floor with a heavy thud. "I want to see every little reaction."

Before you could respond, he inserted himself inside, making you gasp in pain, but you enjoyed the feeling of the way he was inside you. His movements were firm, controlled, as he pulled you forward, pressing you further against the desk. A deep groan escaped him as he filled you, stretching you with a delicious ache that you never thought you craved. Your fingers gripped at his shoulders for stability, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as he thrusted in you at a relentless pace.

"Look at you," he rasped, eyes dark as they bore into yours. "So perfect, taking me so well, like the whore you are." His hands roamed, one sliding up your spine, pressing between your shoulder blades to arch your back. The other gripped your hop holding you in place as he drove into you.

A whimper slipped through your lips, and his smirks deepened at the beautiful sight seeing you so weak, submissive, the tears pooling through your eyes. "That's it, bunny... let me hear you." His voice molten, dripping with satisfaction. "Let me hear you much you love this."

The desk creaked beneath you, each moves sending shivers through your body. His praise was relentless, murmured against your skin like a worshipper at an altar. "Such a good girl, taking me so beautifully, you were made for my cock, weren't you?"

His pace never slowed, each thrust felt so deliberate, like it was claiming you. Your name spilled from his lips a prayer, laced with possession. "Mine, you hear?" He growled, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin. "Mine to ruin, mine to fuck, mine to adore."

Your body trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by sensation, by the weight of his words. And when you shattered, he wasn't far behind, groaning your name as he buried himself one final time.

"Oh my- Mr. afton, I'm gonna cum~" you gasped out loudly for you to hear he chuckled at the sight. You looked a complete mess for him at his mercy.

Go ahead my precious, slut." He reassured as his thrust were getting sloppy, he felt your heat through your core, you came as William stopped his thrusts as both of you panted face to face, in satisfaction.

William let out a deep, satisfied exhale, his hands still gripping on your hips as he finally slowed his movements. The air between you was thick with heat, your bodies tangled in the dim basement light. For a moment, the room was filled only with your labored breaths, the scent of sweat, and something deeper clinging to the air.

William was the first to move rolling his shoulders back as he exhaled in satisfaction. Slowly, he withdrew, watching with an unreadable expression as you shivered from the sudden emptiness. His fingers trailed down to your thighs before he stepped back entirely, reaching for his belt.

The clink of the metal buckle snapped you out of your daze. You watched, still sprawled across the desk, as he threaded the leather back through the loops of his slacks with practiced ease. The entire time, his gaze never left you.

You swallowed,hard, suddenly hyperaware of your own state - your rumpled clothes, the heat still lingering between your legs, the unmistakably sting of his rough game on your skin. You sat up slowly, fixing your clothing as best you could.

Just as you were about to slip off the desk, William was there again, looming close. His fingers found your chin, tilting your face up toward him. His silver-grey-blue eyes gleamed with something dark- possessive, knowing.

"Look at you, love," he murmured, his voice a low rasp that sent a shiver down your spine. "So pretty when you're all flustered."

Your breath hitched, and you hated how your body responds to his words. He smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction.

You hesitated, words failing you. You shouldn't say something- anything- but what could you possibly say? This was wrong. It was so, so wrong.

But it didn't feel wrong.

William leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your cheek. "I'd love to keep you here all night," he mused, his tone almost playful. "But I imagine you need to get home before Michael starts wondering where his precious little friend disappeared to."

Michael.

Your stomach twisted.

You tore yourself away from William's touch, suddenly desperate to get you out of there. He let you go easily, stepping back with a chuckle as you hurriedly adjusted yourself, making surreal you look somewhat presentable.

"You should get going, darling," he hummed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the desk. "We wouldn't want anyone asking questions now, would we?"

You ignored the way your hands trembled as you smoothed down your shirt. Without another word, you turned toward the basement door, your heart hammering against your ribs.

As you climbed the steps, you forced yourself to breathe evenly to act normal. You peeked into the living room, your chest tightening when you saw Michael still passed out on the couch, his arm draped over his face, completely unaware.

Guilt clawed at your throat.

What the hell did I just do?

You shook the thought away and slipped out the front door, the cool night air hitting you like a slap to the face. It did little to calm the fire still burning beneath your skin.

Your bike was still leaned against the porch of the railing. You climbed on, pedaling faster than necessary, as if you could escape what had just happened by sheer force alone. The streets were quiet, the only sound of the whirring of your tires against the pavement.

Your house wasn't far, but every second felt stretched, your mind replaying everything that had transpired in that basement. The way William had looked at you, the way he touched you, the way he ruined you.

And the worst part?

You liked every single moment of it.

The thought made your stomach churn. You should feel disgusted, ashamed. You should hate what just happened.

But you didn't.

And that terrified you.

By the time you reached your house, your hands felt clammy against the handlebars. You let your bike fall onto the grass and stumbled inside, locking the door behind you. The house was dark and quiet, your parents long asleep.

You climbed upstairs to your room, shutting the door behind you as you collapsed onto your bed. Staring at the ceiling, your fingers subconsciously brushed over your lips, still tingling from his last kiss.

What have I done?

Your heart pounded. You wanted to regret it. You wanted to feel disgusted.

But all you could think about... was William.

And that scared you more than anything.

[minasvalentine]

poor baby is so stressed

[jayartngamingyt]

Please.

can everyone please stop tagging movie Mike Schmidt fan fics as Michael Afton. I'm looking for game Michael Afton not movie Mike Schmidt. (I do adore both though)

Bitch this is blowing up me notifs. Also please reblog if you agree!!

I was on the Michael Afton x reader tag and there was a Mike Schmidt thing right below it i swear

Im famous

[aweina]

ᥫ᭡. good luck charm , mike schmidt ( fluff )

did you … did you just kiss me ?

tags major spoilers !! gn reader. tension. friends to ( ? ). mike being shy + awkward.

“do well for me, okay?”

mike blinks in surprise when your hands smooth over the noticeable wrinkles on his security vest — the comforting warmth of your palms melting through the black fabric.

all he’s ever done for the past few days was sleep heavily during his night shifts at the abandoned children's entertainment center, permanently haunted by the time loop of his younger brother — snatched from his youth and into the hands of a cruel stranger.

but he won’t tell you that, it’s more embarrassing to say he has slept through the only job willing to accept him.

“yeah, of course.” mike doesn’t elaborate further, much too flushed by your fleeting touches — every brush of your nimble fingers rendering his body hot and fuzzy.

you step away for a second until your eyes light up in realization. rummaging a quick hand through your pocket, a metal security badge glared over the warm ceiling light — the golden paint bruised in black blotches and dented from the grueling years of past security guards dropping it during their inevitable encounter with ghostly animatronics or even discarding it when they realize the horrors they would endured from keeping such a shitty, unfulfilling job.

mike won’t tell you that part either, for the sake of your sanity.

“don’t forget this too, you always seem to leave it at home.” your voice sounded so soft and quiet in his ear, too afraid to wake up abby down the dark hallway.

“r-right … sorry.” he nervously gulped when you gently tug at his vest. mike carefully gazed at the needle threading the cheap fabric that didn’t have his work title — all in effort to avoid looking at your pretty face. he tightly held his breath, unclenching his fists once in a while to ease his nerves. your breath fanned his face, the small details on your skin that were once blurry were much clearer with you so close — only he was too afraid to memorize them, in case you noticed his staring.

you pinned the badge into place and patted it down for safe measure, now completely satisfied with his more presentable look. mike huffs a deep, loud breath when you finally back away — eliciting a pleased brow at his adorable act to hold his breath. mike immediately sputtered at the embarrassingly loud gush that escaped his lips, quickly padding towards his backpack and keys — avoiding you as much as he could.

he darts towards the front door, his sweaty hand that gripped tightly around the backpack straps now hovered over the door handle. mike felt you linger behind him, much more distant and friendly to his own liking.

“i’ll see you in the morning?” mike mumbled with an ounce of hope, terrified that he made things awkward between the two of you.

you nodded enthusiastically, coming up to the door beside him to latch onto the door handle as well — soft fingers intertwining with his much more clammy ones.

“morning. with breakfast.” you quietly promised with a tooth aching smile. mike couldn’t help but sigh in relief, lazily smiling back at you.

the two you opened the door with a simple click on the lock, your hand still wrapped around his. the midnight air nip at his skin, calming the reddening blush that colored his cheeks and ears.

the heat flowed back to his face once again when he felt your balmy lips suddenly pressed against the corner of his mouth, your soft cheek grazing against his stubbled jaw. mike swore that his vision became hazy for a second.

“i’ll miss you mike.” you breathed, the frosty breeze passing through your lips like intoxicating smoke. before he could utter a reply, you closed the door with a loud click — your shadow filtering through the white curtains seemingly disappearing deeper into his home.

mike stood in front of his house in shock, lightly grazing his hand over the kiss mark that seemed to settle over his mouth — the ghostly touch of your lips now haunting his memory. still dazed in shock, he steadily makes his way towards his car — using his house key to unlock the damn thing all while dumbly missing the keyhole.

letting out a breath that he was holding onto, mike exhaled loudly as his consciousness slowly flooded back into his brain.

“shit.” he finally slurred out as he softly banged his fist onto the roof of his car, pressing his forehead defeatedly against the smudged window.

today he won’t use his pills. not when the feeling of your soft lips and your weirdly intimate farewell will keep him wide awake throughout his whole shift.

add. note : okay but why does everybody hate him in the movie ?! he deserves some love and fluff in his life (￣□￣」) …

[al-dusty33]

Have you ever had a fictional crush on a character, and it's always been there, but suddenly you're obsessing with them more? Like, somehow, you're even more feral towards them and they consume your mind even more. I believe the new term for it is hyperfixation^2

[joshfutturman]

[superstar-nan]

Fight Tooth and Nail

Epilogue

Summary: Just kidding :>

Words: 696

Fun stuff: Grief and mentions of death. I posted chapter 13 the same time as this one, so make sure you didn't miss it!

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You didn’t go back home after you burned down Fazbear’s Fright. You should’ve. But you didn’t. You needed a few days to grieve, and you couldn’t do that at home where everyone acted normal and ordinary. Where nobody knew the hell you had been through. Your best friend’s family deserved to know what happened to them. But what were you supposed to tell them? They were murdered by a haunted serial killer bunny robot? You couldn’t tell them. You couldn’t tell anyone. In a few days, they would ID your best friend’s body amongst the ashes, and even then they wouldn’t know the full truth.

Michael knew. So you stayed with him.  

You got the feeling Michael wanted to be there for you more than you wanted him to. After you broke down in an anguished, desolate cry in front of a burning Fazbear’s Fright, Michael pulled you into an embrace. You didn’t want to be held by him. You wanted to grieve alone and away from anyone. But you knew if you had pulled away from him, it would’ve burned him more than the fire. So you let him hold you as you cried in the darkest despair of your life. 

He took care of you, and though you wanted to be alone, you still cherished his kindness towards you. He gave you the will to live, the least you could do was mumble a thanks as he bandaged your burns. You even allowed him to bandage your bite marks, but this time you wanted it bandaged. Through it all, You wondered if he was using taking care of you as a distraction from his own trouble.

You didn’t talk to Michael about your grief, and he didn’t talk about his feelings about killing his dad. Instead, you two coexisted in a heavy misery; the kind that you were able to forget briefly when curled up against Michael late at night, watching something unimportant and boring on the TV.

It was early Sunday morning, a few days after your five nights at Fazbear’s Fright, when Michael came home. You hadn’t realized he was gone. You sat up from the couch and yawned. On second glance, Michael looked quiet and heavy, as if there was something weighing on him.

“G’morning,” You slurred. Your eyes burned; you had cried yourself to sleep again. “Where’d you go?”

Michael didn’t answer you at first, and that made you shift, sitting up more fully. “Just out,” He said, like you would ever believe he was ‘just out’.

You fixed him with a more focused gaze, and he brushed it off, readjusting his hoodie and taking off his hat. “You haven’t left the place for days, and now you decide to leave at the crack of dawn to go ‘just out’?” 

Michael shrugged.

“You went to Fazbear’s Fright, didn’t you?” The words felt like sand on your tongue.

Michael stiffened slightly, almost imperceptible if you hadn’t been living with him for the past week.

You swallowed, and it was dry. “What did you find?”

“I didn’t say-”

“Michael,” Your voice was a plea, and you knew he couldn’t resist you when you were in genuine pain. “What is it?”

Michael set down his backpack and ran his hands through his dark hair with a shaky sigh, “He’s not there.”

A chill traveled your spine, sending a deep shiver through you, “What?”

“No endoskeleton was found. It should’ve been there. They found...”

“Bones,” Your voice was as cold as ice. “They found bones, but they didn’t find metal.”

Michael exhaled again, and it was a tired and weighted sound, “I’ll find him.”

“We’ll find him,” You corrected him.

Michael said your name in an exasperated sigh, but you interrupted him.

“We’ll find him.” You said firmly, “You’re not doing this alone.”

Something lonely softened in Michael when you said that, though you hadn’t meant it in a supportive way. He cleared his throat, and looked out the window, “It won’t be easy finding him. It might take a while. But... he’ll be back. He always comes back.”

You rested your head against the couch’s arm, “And we’ll be there when he does.”

[lucigooseart]

senseless 1998

there is simply not enough tim laflour love he is my wife

[the-ferocious-kittyrose]

“Do you imagine yourself or an oc when reading x reader fics?”

Me if I imagined myself in x reader fics:

[pasukiyo]

HANDLE IT

mike schmidt x f!teacher!reader word count; 2,417 warnings; once again, no plot, just porn <3 summary; mike has a look. that's never a good sign.

 “Follow Mrs Davis and her class for lunch!”

 Mike watched from his seat behind the teacher’s desk as his girlfriend saw her class out the door, hand on the handle and pulling it closed behind them, making sure to twist the lock while she did. The corners of his mouth twitched as she sighed and fell back against the door, blowing a strand of loose hair out of her face. 

 “Long day?” Mike asked and she narrowed her eyes over at him, her lips quirked in a tired grin. “Don’t even get me started,” she grumbled as she pushed herself off of the door, heels clicking against the tile as she made her way back to her desk. 

 “Abby hasn’t been a problem, I hope?” Mike cocked an eyebrow to his hairline as she leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek, settling herself down in her chair. She rolled her eyes at this, “you always make it seem like she should be causing trouble,” she tittered. “No, Abby’s always great.”

 She watched as Mike reached for the floor beside him, a plastic takeout bag in his hand and she grinned, wiggling in her seat as he began to unravel the knot in the handles. “Sooo… what did you bring me?” She asked, letting the smell of what she swore was tomato sauce waft through her nostrils.

 “New Italian place opened in the mall. Figured we could try it out,” he replied as he handed her one of the takeout boxes in which she ripped the lid off of, grinning over at Mike. “Spaghetti with meatballs. You know me so well.”

 She leaned forward as he handed her the plastic fork to press a kiss against his lips and Mike smiled, practically chasing after her mouth again when she pulled away. He watched as she spun the spaghetti around her fork, as she took a bite and moaned at the taste. 

 Suddenly, Mike’s jeans felt very tight. 

 “What is this place called? It’s amazing,” she moaned, chewing behind her fingers as she turned to glance over at Mike. “Ten out of ten. This might even be better than your spaghetti and meatballs.”

 Mike, although distracted by something else entirely, furrowed his brows at this, tossing his hands up. “Hey,” he said. “Thought you loved my spaghetti and meatballs.”

 She shrugged, “they’re alright.” Mike playfully shoved her shoulder and she tried to bite back a chuckle, glancing back over to him. “Hey, I don’t see you eating spaghetti and meatballs, why don’t you try and find out?” She laughed, taking a bite from a meatball as Mike pressed his lips together, curved into a grin as he shook his head. “Nah, I’m not that hungry right now.”

 She raised a brow and tilted her head to eye the other takeout box in the plastic bag. “Mike, you haven’t even touched your food,” she tittered, eyeing him incredulously. She narrowed her lids, “you have a look.”

 The corner of Mike’s mouth twitched— she was catching on. “I don’t have a look.”

 Her face fell and she dropped her fork in the to-go box, eyebrow cocked. “Yes, you do.”

 Mike leaned back in his seat and locked his fingers together on his lap, shrugging as he turned his head to face her. “Enlighten me, what look do you think I have?”

 For a fleeting moment, her gaze lowered to the very evident tent in his jeans, her thighs subconsciously clenching together at the sight, cheeks growing warm when he chuckled. She looked away, soothing her palms up and down the length of her skirt and Mike watched, teeth sunken into the inside of his cheek. A scenario played in the forefront of his mind, fantasizing about ripping the skirt clean off her legs and taking her right there on top of her desk had him balling a fist, squeezing his thumb so tight, it almost felt like it’d pop. 

 “Mike…”

 “What?” He murmured, leaning in closer, brushing away the hair curtaining away the side of her face back behind her ear. She melted like wax at his touch, as if her fingertips were flames. Her skin burned so hot now, she feared she actually would melt into a pool of magma on the floor below. 

 “Here?” She whispered as he rolled his chair closer, his breath a phantom looming over her flesh, sending shivers slithering down the coil of her spine. Mike peered up into the sides of her irises, “why not?”

 His lips pressed against the delicate skin just below her ear and she trembled, panicking eyes darting to the door she had thankfully locked. “I’ll give you a million reasons why not,” she murmured as his kisses trailed down to the curve of her shoulder, the scruff on his chin and just above his lips deliciously burning her skin. 

 “I can be sneaky,” he whispered against the valley between her neck and shoulder, his lips a crescent against her skin when he playfully nipped her flesh between his teeth there. She jolted and hissed, clenching her thighs together once more as the familiar slick of warmth burned the pit of her belly. “If somebody walks in, we’re both dead,” she murmured as his palm gripped and soothed down the length of her thigh, kneading at her knee, teasing her, taunting her. 

 “Relax, babe,” he breathed a chuckle against the crook of her neck. “I just want a taste, that’s all. Wouldn’t want you to get all fucked out before the day is over.”

 His low, raspy words had her reeling, her head in a frenzy and teetering on the edge of a mindset she knew she was at risk of falling down into. “Screw you, Mike,” she muttered through gritted teeth as he grinned, placing one last kiss against the breadth of her shoulder before sinking down to his knees on the floor, hanging his head so that he could fit beneath the desk. 

 Her heart drummed against her chest as he slithered his way between her legs, hands on her knees as slowly he parted them, as if he were unwrapping a present on Christmas Day. Through heavy eyelids, she peered down at him just as a silent curse fell from his mouth, teeth burrowed into the plush of his bottom lip as the pads of his thumbs rubbed circles into the inside of her knees. 

 “You’re soaked clean through your panties,” he chuckled and she burned brighter, sweat already beginning to bead at her hairline and her chest heaving to the unsteady beat of her heart. His name fell from her lips in a whispered sigh as he reached forward with his right thumb, pressing the fat of it straight onto her clothed clit, her back arching up off of her chair as he traced an agonizingly slow and painful circle against it, sighing at the way her slick showed through the thin fabric of her underwear. 

 “Fffuck,” he grumbled beneath his breath, hiking the skirt that hugged her curves until they pooled at her hips, pushing her knees further apart until he had full access to everything. His gaze was like a laser, burning through the damp fabric of her panties straight through to her pussy. He eyed her like he was starved, like he’d go hungry if he didn't get himself a taste. 

 Mike hooked his middle and forefinger around the hem of her underwear and tugged, although with some resistance with how wet she was. She gasped when the fabric unstuck itself from her arousal, Mike’s lips falling agape as he tugged her panties all the way down her legs until they hooked around one single ankle. He pressed himself closer, wrapping his arms around her hips and with his palms to her ass, drawing her in even closer until she sat on the edge of her seat. 

 “So fuckin’ pretty,” he marveled at the sight before him, admiring every single inch of her as if she were an artifact. She shuddered beneath his stare. “Mike,” she mewled through a shaky breath, “please.”

 With those deep, rich chocolate brown eyes, he glimpsed up at her and she gazed back, wondering when his pupils ended and his irises started. His eyes glimmered with longing, with desire, with lust. She thought she’d come from just his stare alone. 

 “Have to stay quiet, hm?” He nodded up at her, maintaining eye contact as he pressed a kiss just above her clit, feeling it throb against his chin as she writhed, trying to suppress her mewl. She nodded, pressing her lips together as she briefly glanced up at the door then to the windows— she was so grateful she’d drawn the blinds earlier. 

 Their gazes never leaving one another, Mike carefully leaned down to press a tender kiss on top of her aching bud, her toes curling in, back arching off the back of her chair. One of her hands flung to the mess of dark tendrils atop his head, the other gripping the armrest of her desk chair. Mike pulled away again, the makings of a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Think you can handle it?” He asked and she whimpered, nodding, every ounce of dignity in her body long gone, thrown somewhere far away from right there.

 “Just… please, Mike,” she whined, trying to keep her voice on the low as she gripped the roots of his hair tighter, inviting him back into her warmth, his arousal like a gloss on his lips. The crescent shape of his lips fell back against her clit as he pressed another kiss to it, electricity flowing through her body and making her jolt once more. 

 Mike eyed her through hooded lids as he licked a stripe all the way from her entrance back up the underside of her clit, relishing in the way she’d tremble and press her lips together in a desperate attempt to silence her whimpers. The delectable taste of her arousal coated his tongue and simmered on his taste buds as if she were his ambrosia, and he hummed as he licked another line up her slit. 

 “Taste so damn good,” he practically growled against her cunt as he plunged his face back in, his lips around her clit and tongue swirling against the sensitive nub. Tears were streaming down the sides of her face now as she threw her head back, using every last ounce of strength inside her body to will her moans to stay at a minimum. All she could do was pray that nobody would come knocking on her classroom door now. 

 A string of curses, his name among the mix, tumbled from her lips as he sucked her clit, every swirl of his tongue coaxing her closer and closer to the edge. She was balancing on a tightrope now, teetering on bliss as his tongue trailed down to her entrance, slow but firm as it pushed its way in. Her fingers tightened in the mess of hair on his head, pulling harder, making him surge into her. 

 She could feel every inch of his tongue inside of her and he was so close, the bridge of his nose pressed deliciously down on her clit, sending her down into a spiral of pleasure. She squeezed her eyelids together so tight, she was seeing stars, a shimmering backdrop of glitter as he swirled his muscle inside of her, humming into her at her taste. 

 “Sh… shi… shit, Mike!” She gasped as he nodded his head, tongue swirling inside of her, the bridge of his nose rubbing up and down against her clit. Her eyes were rolling into the back of her hand, every move his tongue made and every bit of pressure his nose applied to her clit added more rubber bands to the ball pressing down against the pit of her belly, dangerously close to erupting. “I’m… I’m gonna come if you don’t… if you don’t stop.”

 Mike blinked up at her and pulled away for breath, every inch of his face from the bridge of his nose down slick and shiny with her arousal. She felt herself clench at the mere sight as his chest heaved, chasing air back into his lungs, a smug smirk on his face. “I’m betting on it, babe,” he chuckled before diving back in, her pussy empty one moment and nearly full of his tongue the next. 

 His eagerness almost had her screaming, her nails scraping so hard against his scalp, somewhere in the back of her mind, she feared she’d draw blood. Mike hummed against her— he didn’t seem to mind so much. 

 Oh, how could he when he could sense she was so close? He could practically smell her orgasm, using every ounce of skill in his body to push her even closer to the edge, to knock her unsteady on top of that tightrope until it snapped below her altogether. 

 With her hand not tangled in his hair, she sank her teeth into the side of her hand to muffle the scream that ripped through her body, squeezing her eyelids shut even tighter as her body spasms, bones rattling in her release’s wake. Her orgasm thundered and cracked through her body like an earthquake, the sheer power of her release like a tempest. Her thighs squeezed around Mike’s head and he palmed at the sides of them as he swirled his tongue inside of her again and again, making sure not a drop of her went to waste. 

 He was practically drinking her, slurping every last drop until there was none left to be had. And only when that moment came did he pull away, breathless as he sat back on his heels below her desk, swiping at the slick dripping down his face with the back of his hand. 

 Mike gazed up at her curiously, her head still thrown back over the back of the chair, chest heaving up and down as she struggled to catch her breath. He chuckled as he pushed himself out from underneath her desk and up so that he could stand beside her, a palm cupping her cheek, the other aiding her head to sit normally on her shoulders. The pad of his thumb soothed over against her cheek, coaxing her out of her bleary state, her vision slowly beginning to clear again. 

 Mike tried to bite back his smile, “doing alright there?”

 She huffed as her cheeks burned, “shut up, Mike.”

a/n; i ended up writing up this one in like 45 minutes while sitting in the bathtub LMAO y'all went absolutely crazy with the last mike fic, you literally broke my tumblr notifications 😭 glad to see so many others horny for josh in this movie too

TAGLIST !!

@bxbyyyjocelyn

[vivzzi]

bf!mike who tries his hardest when it comes to date night. he may not be able to afford anything expensive but he wants to make memories with you.

bf!mike who hugs your clothes in bed while you’re working late and unable to make it back before dinner. he finds it more helpful than his pills.

bf!mike who walks around with a disposable camera which has photos of you doing small things around the house (or in his room).

bf!mike who calls you from work just to tell you that he loves you or just to have a small conversation because he loves your voice.

bf!mike who doesn’t know how to dance but when it comes to you two being alone at home he tends to slow dance to whatever slow song is playing on the radio with you.

bf!mike who follows you around the house constantly once you get back from work just so he can talk to you about your day even if he’s tired himself.

bf!mike that holds you close during the night whenever you have a hard day. he just wants you to know that he’s there for you.

bf!mike that lets you ride him in the back seat of his car