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mandosaur · 11 months

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This Little Slice of Life (Mike Schmidt x Reader)

Fandom: Five Nights at Freddy's Film

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x Reader

Word Count: 1,025

Estimated Reading Time: 3:43

Summary:

A tiny little drabble that takes place before the film's events.

When you imagined what your life was going to be like as an adult, you didn’t imagine this.

In your dreams, you saw yourself as a world famous pop star. You imagined yourself in sequin dresses that would cost a fortune standing before a stage of wild fans all screaming your name. You saw yourself on every magazine cover, touring every country, and attending the Met Gala. Paparazzi would flash your photos in your day dreams all while you rode in a limo spending thousands on any little thing that caught your fancy. You had always imagined a life of luxury and wealth for yourself as an adult.

You never imagined your current life.

You never imagined that you’d be in your mid twenties still living in the same street you grew up in. Never imagined that the fancy little college degree you got to appease your parents would bring you nothing but student loans that kept piling on. You didn’t think you’d be working some dead end job for minimum wage at a company with a shitty boss and worse hours just barely scraping by.

However, despite the huge deviation from what your childhood dreams believed would be a good future for you, you find you can’t be happier.

There’s something warm and familiar in the way your life works. Like a puzzle piece clicking together, everything just seems to work. Your life isn’t glamorous or extravagant the way your elementary school dreams all mapped out, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Hell, you wouldn’t trade Mike or Abby for the world either.

Mike and Abby were perhaps the greatest riches you had. Mike had been your childhood best friend. You’d met him in the first day of Pre-K. A little boy holding a metal, superhero lunch box while his mom and dad kissed him goodbye. You’d befriended him on the playground of that first day and formed a friendship that had lasted all your lives.

You’d known him forever. Been there for him when Garrett had been taken, when his parents had died, and when he’d become Abby’s guardian. You’d always been there at his side.

First as a friend, then as a lover.

When you both turned 16, you had started dating. A simple choice between you both. By then, you’d both loved each other and had been pining for years. It was only natural for the two of you to start dating. Both of your parents encouraged the shift and the two of you were very happy.

10 years later, and the two of you had been together for a long time. You’d moved into the little home he shared with Abby. You shared his bedroom and was there to take care of Abby when Max couldn’t. Abby too was a joy in your life.

She had been born when you two were older and you and Mike had become her guardians. Abby really only knew the two of you. She doted on Mike, treasured him deeply if her drawings with him center stage were anything to go by, but she adored you too. She talked to you more than other kids her age, liked you staying home with her when your work allowed it, and drew you in some of her drawings holding hands with her and Mike.

She was a little gift in the life you had just like Mike. You loved them both deeply to the point where nothing else mattered.

To you, it didn’t matter that both you and Mike didn’t have money. Between your student loans and both your minimum wage paychecks, you two weren’t raking in much. Neither of you could boast being wealthy, hell, sometimes you couldn’t even boast being comfortable either.

But that didn’t matter.

Every day that you woke up to that poster of Nebraska on the ceiling and Mike next to you, every day that you got home to Max and Abby in the kitchen table working on homework, and every day that you were able to kiss Mike when he got home from work from the mall covered in fast food stains and all, none of it mattered. Not the debt, not the hardships, and not the struggles.

This little slice of life you’d built with Mike and Abby were paradise. Even if Mike’s aunt threatened custody every once in a while, even if Mike sometimes came home flushed and upset with a new termination notice in hand from his current job, and even if Abby sometimes preferred to talk to her imaginary friends than join you and Mike for dinner. Despite it all, this little home the three of you shared was your personal heaven.

And when Mike came home one day and suggested the two of you marry after talking to Abby, your little paradise increased.

Your wedding wouldn’t be anything that would elicit chatter among your friends. At most, you two would just wear your nicest clothes in your closet and walk down to the court house with cheap rings from Amazon. At most, your honeymoon would be a day where Max took Abby to her house and you and Mike ordered some take out from that Italian place in the mall that was about as fancy as any other fast food place. At most, you’d probably have one weekend to celebrate being married before Mike went to work at the mall and you back to your shitty job.

But it didn’t matter.

You loved Mike and Abby enough to the point where all of that sounded like a luxury. It might not have been the fancy delusions child you had about your future, but it was home. Mike and Abby had always been your home and any moment spent with them was better than whatever money could buy.

So, smiling, you had accepted Mike’s proposal and enveloped him and Abby in a tight hug. Had laughed when you felt Mike’s grin against your cheek and heard Abby’s little giggle against your arms.

Your life might not have been much to someone else, but to you it was paradise. A treasure nothing could ever replace.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fnaf #divider by Saradika #michael schmidt x reader

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sleepyhutcherson · 3 months

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Heyy, can you make a Mike fic where reader has a lot of money and buys things for Mike and Abby and Mike always feels guilty about it? I love your job!!

-💋

get anything you want.

paring: mike schmidt x rich!gn!reader

summary: mike has never tolerated you paying for anything on dates, let alone even buy him anything, so when you show up to his front door insisting to take him and abby to the mall he’s a little reluctant, knowing you’re going to try and spoil him, something he really doesn’t want.

—or, in which: you take your boyfriend and his little sister shopping in attempt to spoil them.

word count: 2.0k

tags: established relationship, use of y/n, fluff, rich!reader (but it’s very briefly mentioned), abby being the sweetest, most adorable girl <3, reassurance — let me know if i’m missing something!

author’s note: hii guys, so i genuinely hate this so much and have so many drafts of this (i have so many versions of this request) because i struggled so much with it :| anyway, i swear i want to get to everyone’s request and i have the time so i hope i can manage! sorry for being really absent on here but i was dealing with some things but im hopefully back!! thank you anon for the request, and im sorry this is so late :( i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! xx

Mike didn’t like going to the mall—especially not on a Saturday. He dreaded the idea of going shopping with you but only because you always insisted on paying for his things. He couldn’t fathom why you would even want to do that for him. Mike was always careful with his money, he didn’t earn much at his shitty job but the money he did earn always went to the house bills, food, and Abby—the more important things. He was aware that you made really good money at your job but he never wanted you to use your money on him.

But of course, Mike had a hard time telling you no so when you suggest going to the mall all he can do is agree, especially once he sees the excitement in Abby’s eyes.

You hold onto Abby’s hand as she walks in between you and Mike, she was talking over all the loud chaos in the mall, and Mike couldn’t help but feel pleased with how happy his little sister seemed at this moment.

He hated how crowded the mall was, how kids were running around, some crying, some laughing obnoxiously loud—it was all just a little too much for Mike, but seeing that look in Abby’s big, brown eyes, he could tolerate it for a bit.

“So you only come for your birthdays?” You ask Abby, bringing Mike back to reality. He adored how good you were with her, it made his heart quicken. You were always so sweet towards Abby, going out of your way to play with her, ask her questions, and even participating in drawing lessons she insisted you needed.

Abby nods. “Yeah, and Mike lets me get ice cream and a toy!” She says with bright eyes. Her birthday was a couple of months ago and being back at the mall filled her with those memories she cherished with her older brother.

It was apparent how grateful she was for that yearly trip to the mall; she never complained about not coming more often. Mike had told her that the mall was a special place so why not come by on a special day? That made sense to the 10-year-old girl and she never argued to come more often.

“How about if you find something you really want, I’ll get it for you.” You suggest. Both siblings turn their attention to you in sync and you can’t help but smile at how alike they can be at times. You come to a halt, causing Mike and Abby to stop as well, you point out to the front of you, “look, Build-A-Bear is just over there, you can take a look inside and if you see something you want I’ll get it for you.”

You can feel Mike’s eyes on you as you speak to his little sister. “Really?!” Abby beamed, eyes so puppy-like they mirrored some you were all too familiar with.

“Of course. Get anything you want.” This excites Abby, you can tell by the way her eyes go wide along with her smile. Her reaction made you smile.

You meet Mike’s gaze now, noticing that stern, guilt-ridden look on his face that you’ve seen on him before—specifically whenever you try to pay for things. “Is that okay?” You ask him then.

His lips are in a thin line. He turns his attention to Abby then, “Abs, why don't you go get one of those bouncy balls from that quarter machine?” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out some extra change.

“Okay, thanks!” She takes the change, skipping over to where a few quarter machines are displayed; some with candy and others with little trinkets. She was still in sight—Mike made sure of that every time.

“You okay?” You ask your boyfriend, sensing you have upset him. You knew it was hard for him to accept any kind of help, especially when it came to you offering to buy anything for him or Abby. He wasn't angry, he just felt bad. He looked at you with those tired brown eyes that you were oh so struck by every time, didn’t matter how many times you’ve looked into them.

“Yeah,” he replies, taking a minute before continuing, not knowing exactly how to word what he wants to say. Maybe because he’s told you before so many times. “I just—I don’t want you wasting your money on us.” He says as gently as he can.

“Mike, it’s not a big deal.” You say. And you mean it. Mike and Abby had become two of the most important people in your lives and you wanted to help them however you could. “I know I should’ve asked you first, but I just wanted her to get her something.”

Mike admired this about you, how you were willing to buy something for Abby even though you didn't have to. But still, he felt shitty about it, it didn’t feel right. Even though you were the one who offered, he felt like he was taking advantage of your money.

You notice the guilt on Mike’s face and immediately move to cup his face, letting your hands rest against the sides of his face, feeling his stubble against your palm. He's a little surprised by this; you see the way his eyes widen a little at your touch and you giggle at how adorable his reaction was.

“Hey,” you say, your voice soothing to his ears. You look up at him, his eyes immediately softening upon seeing the small precious smile on your lips. “Look, I understand if you don't want to but I would love to buy you both something today. You rarely come to the mall so just please let me spoil you both just today?”

Mike’s hands are on your waist now, his thumb softly rubbing at your clothed skin. He knows how stubborn you are and knows that you won’t give up on this—plus, he doesn’t think he has the heart to tell Abby no after you already offered to buy her something. “Fine,” he agrees, but before you can get too excited: “but only Abby.”

He won’t let you pay anything for him. It’s not like anything in the mall ever really caught his eye anyway.

You smile, pecking his lips softly. “Thank you.” You were a little disappointed that he denied you from getting him something but you weren’t giving up that easy; you knew a place in the mall that Mike was an absolute sucker for, where there was a chance he would be tempted to stop at.

Abby returns with a bouncy ball in hand, thrilled with that until you remind her of Build-A-Bear. She yaps on about her collection of stuffed animals she has at home and how thrilled she was about adding another to it the short walk to the store.

Mike is quiet the entire time you and Abby are looking for a plushie for her to pick out—she was debating between a rabbit or an actual bear. You catch Mike looking at the prices with a certain look on his face, giving his arm a gentle squeeze, reassuring him that it was okay. And it really was.

He tried to focus on just how incredibly happy Abby looked right now which was the most important thing. It warmed his heart seeing her so happy, the way her eyes glistened under the lights, how wide they got whenever they landed on another toy. God, did it make Mike smile just seeing her like this. He decided to focus on that, not the guilt that was eating him.

“What did you name it?” Mike asks, holding Abby's hand as the three of you continue walking around the mall.

Abby was clutching onto the brown rabbit she picked out that was dressed in a purple onesie that you let her get. “Baby. Y/n gave me the idea! They said if you move the letters around in my name it spells out ‘Baby’.” She explained with her focus entirely on her new friend.

Mike had never noticed that, he smiled warmly at that, finding it rather sweet. “That’s nice,” he says, his eyes averting to you. He was holding your hand, this time he was in between the two of you. He wanted to hold your hand, he wanted to thank you for this, for everything you do.

For a while, the three of you walk through the mall leisurely. You make a few stops at some stores, making some purchases you had intended to make. Until you finally lead Mike down to where you were so sure he couldn’t resist.

“Should we go home now?” Mike asks, holding some of your shopping bags.

The food court was right by the exit. “You guys want ice cream?” You reply instead. Mike’s eyes light up at the suggestion, his eyebrows raising a little. God, he was so adorable!

“Yes!” Abby answers, with her rabbit—Baby, still being hugged by her.

“Do you want some?” You ask Mike with a menacing smirk on your face, knowing he wouldn’t let down some ice cream.

He bit the inside of his cheek, debating whether he should spend some of his money on ice cream. He didn’t mind getting some for you and Abby, the real guilt came whenever he got himself something. “Uh…”

“Come on, let's go get some.” You don’t even let him respond, you know him well enough. You drag the two Schmidts towards a small ice cream shop where there was luckily not a line, just a middle-aged woman with her teenage daughter.

You stand behind them, looking up at the menu with the flavours displayed. “What are you getting Abs?” You ask, looking down at her.

“Birthday cake,” she replies. It was her go-to order.

“Me too,” you decide, not having an appetite for the other flavours. “What about you, Mike?” You start taking out your wallet, Mike is distracted as he tries deciding on what to get from the menu.

“Maybe…a peanut butter shake.” He says slowly, still eyeing the other options. “Yeah, I think I’ll just get that.”

You don’t say anything as you’re just about next in line. You order everyone’s orders politely, earning a smile from the girl who is taking your order. She tells you your total and you see Mike reach for his wallet but you win him, handing the girl the cash. “Your order will be out in a moment.” She smiles and you thank her, moving to a side to wait with Abby and Mike.

“I should’ve known you would do that,” Mike mumbled, standing with his arms crossed over his chest. You knew he was trying to come off as angry but you couldn’t help but think how hot his arms looked.

“Oh, come on, Mike,” you whine a little, inching closer to him. He can’t stay mad at you for too long, he never has been able to. He wraps his arms around your waist, trying his best not to smile. Of course, he was filled with how you looked up at him with such adoration. “Can’t I buy my boyfriend a shake?” You say with a teasing tone.

“No,” he replies, looking down at you. “I can pay for my things too, you know?”

“I know,” you did know. You just wanted to treat him sometimes. He deserved him. If you could—if he allowed you to—you would spoil him to the fullest. “But I don’t mind paying for things, especially for things you and Abby need. I really don’t.”

God, he didn’t deserve you. He thought that—he wondered at times how he got so lucky with you. He doesn’t argue it any longer, only because he doesn’t want to right now, not saying that he will just continue letting you pay for things like this but he just doesn’t want to continue with this. He just wants to show you and tell you how much he appreciates you. How much he loves you.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you. He leans down to whisper in your ear, “thank you.” such a simple thing, but the genuineness in his voice and the small kiss he plants just below your ear afterwards makes you cherish it.

taglist: @cancelledkaley @stanheights-boyfriend @ploty-twist @st4r-b0ylover @laurrrelise @joshfutturman @gryffindorsblog @sofiehutch @obsessivemuso-withnofriends @helen-on-earth @fallingboba @cassiecasluciluce @maticka @jhutchissupercool

thank you for reading and for all your support <3

#divider by dollywons #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt comfort #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt smut #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt angst #mike schmidt headcanons #josh hutcherson smut #fnaf

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syndrmes · 4 months

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fnaf Inspired bios + Theme

⌚️🗯️𓈒ིུ𓈒ིུ▞ 𝔇eadl̲y̲ h̲o̲ur ⃨۪۪̃۟ ◍ ͟͟❘❙ ⃨̃ 🍕

➜ ཻུ۪۪͎ (๑˃̶͈̀∇˂̶͈́)*RRING* ⏰ 𖡄̽ᭂ💼

▞▞➜ ཻུ۪۪͎ 𝔓izzeria👮‍♂️𖣠͢░⃕⃝▞⌚️ᶻz

🐻 ໋۟ ⊹ bite of ‘87 (⓲살ུ+) ⃨۪۪̃۟ ◍ ͟͟❘❙ ⃨̃

☎️ ཻུ۪۪͎ ြ░*𝓸𝓷 Duty Call* ིꨩ𒊒

+82 (✱✱✱)ུ ⛓️‍💥𝓜r.O6⌚️✴︎ ⃨̃ ᭂ

If you use the theme, please give me credits somewhere :)

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oftenwantedafton · 8 months

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A New Afton - Stepfather Steve Raglan/William Afton x Stepdaughter Reader

Chapter 3

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - sexual content, daddy kink, praise kink, food kink

Also available on AO3

taglist @yellowbunnydreams

You glance at the digital display on the alarm clock beside your bed and groan internally. You haven’t slept a wink and it’s time to get up for school.

A quick shower. You’d forgotten to iron your uniform. The pleats of the skirt don’t lie flat. Your blouse is rumpled. You frown at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Your sclera are bloodshot, the fragile skin beneath your eyes smudged. You can hear your stepfather making coffee in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Princess.”

Steve has transformed back into the geeky social worker version of himself. Striped shirt, matching tie with a small diamond pattern. Gold framed aviators dominating much of his face.

“Hi,” you greet him. You don’t really feel like eating. You start to sit across from him but he clucks his tongue.

“Too far away. Why don’t you sit here,” he begins to drag out the chair your mother usually occupies, then stops. “Or better yet right here.” He pats one long stretch of thigh invitingly.

You stand uncertainly. The chair legs scrape across the floor. Last night, there had been a kind of aura around you. A moment when you’d just surrendered and enjoyed it. The sunlight spilling through the kitchen window this morning feels too bright, too cheerful. It contradicts the dark secret you’d shared with your stepfather last night.

You approach the seated man and sit gingerly on the offered perch. His arm slides around your waist, holding you against him. How neatly he’d just shoved your mother’s place aside to make room for you.

“How are you feeling? You look tired.”

“I didn’t sleep well.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Did you?”

“Like a rock.” He grins wolfishly at you and you wonder how his conscience is so clear and carefree. Did he feel any remorse at all for cheating on his wife with her daughter? “Stay home today, if you want. I’ll call the school office and write you a note for tomorrow.”

“I…I think I’d like to stay home, yes.” You can’t process sitting through classes today. Trying to concentrate on schoolwork. The image of Steve looking up at you as you’d climaxed in his mouth won’t leave your mind, playing on an endless loop. You’d halfway been expecting him to come to your room in the middle of the night. Hoping for another taste of that mouth. Wishing he’d put some part of his body on yours. Inside yours. Your eyes stray to your mother’s reading glasses tucked into the basket on the table and guilt wrenches your stomach.

“Alright then. Consider it done. I’ll make us dinner when I get home tonight, okay? Whatever you want.”

You nod. You stare at his lips. You wish he’d kiss you. You’re not brave enough to make a move yourself.

The older man glances at the clock on the stove and sighs. “I have to leave now. Let me get that note written before I forget and I’ll give the school a call.” He pats your knee and you leave the warmth of his lap. One last sip of coffee and then he withdraws one of the notebooks out of your backpack resting on the counter, tearing out a blank page near the back. He has a pen in his shirt pocket: silver, slender, heavy looking. His handwriting is precise cursive. He folds the note and tucks it into the folder on the inside of the front cover, then slips it back into your bag. He retrieves the number for your school from the fridge. It’s there among a list of emergency contact numbers, important sequences like your physician and the office your parents work at.

You pick up Steve’s coffee cup and rinse it, setting it on the sink mat. His voice on the phone is warm, concerned, convincing. He folds his jacket over his arm and lifts his briefcase, reserving one hand to lift your chin. His thumb presses on the shallow divot below your bottom lip. You will him to kiss you, pleased when your desire is fulfilled. He tastes like hazelnut coffee.

“Have a good day, sweet girl.”

The front door closes behind him.

***

The phone rings around noon. Your stepfather is on his lunch break.

“How are you feeling? Did you get any rest?”

“Yes.” You had. You’d undressed and closed the blinds and gone right back to bed. You have an appetite again. For food. For him.

“That’s great. Have you given any thought to what you want for supper?”

You want something sweet. The breakfast meal you’d missed this morning. “Pancakes.”

He hums in amusement. You love his voice in your ear. “Pancakes, huh? I can manage that.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” You can hear him grinning from here. “I’ll try to be home as soon as I can. Maybe wrap things up a little early. My afternoon client load looks a little sparse today.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

He huffs into the receiver, a pleased sound. “That’s my good girl. See you soon.”

The lustful ache within you flares to life once more.

***

William Afton returns home three hours later to find you on the living room couch. You’re wearing seersucker pajamas with a small strawberry print and lettuce edge ruffles. He likes these dainty, feminine things you wear. Better than something overtly adult like lace or satin. They still retain a sense of innocence and youth that arouses him.

He enjoys how your gaze is always heavy on him, as if you’re mesmerized, captivated. You can’t seem to look away. You can’t conceal the want.

He bends to kiss your mouth, threads his fingers through your hair. A weaker man would surrender right then and ravage you. But he’s not a weak man. He takes his time removing his work clothes and steps into the shower. A few quick lazy strokes of his erection, just a little tease of the pleasure he’ll be receiving from you later. Loose pajamas that don’t entirely conceal his firm cock, this material thinner than what he’d worn last night.

He returns to the kitchen and begins preparing the meal. You hover in the doorway, watching him gather ingredients and utensils.

“You really can cook,” you say.

He glances at you mid leveling off a measuring cup and smiles. “They’re only pancakes.”

“But you know what you’re doing. Like, you’ve got practice. The way you’re handling things. I don’t know how to phrase it.” You frown at him. “You owned a restaurant once, right?”

William nods. “I did.” The flour spills into the batter bowl. “Actually, I’ll let you in on a little secret if you promise not to tell anyone. I mean anyone,” he emphasizes.

“Okay, I promise.”

“I still own it. It’s been closed for years, but I just couldn’t bring myself to let it go.”

He dusts his hands off and walks over to you. “You should visit with me some time. It’s not an ordinary restaurant. There’s an arcade. Animatronics. A lot of very interesting things I could show you.” He plants a kiss on your jaw and nibbles your ear lobe. He feels you shiver.

***

You stare at the array of toppings available before you. Steve had stopped at the store on the way home and had gotten some groceries. Whipped cream, strawberries, blueberries. There’s also powdered sugar and butter and chocolate and maple syrup.

“Wow. You really went all out.”

“If you’re going to do something, you should commit one hundred percent to the task at hand.”

He picks up one of the strawberries freshly rinsed in the colander and walks over to you. “Open your mouth,” he instructs gently. The texture from the external seeds is rough against your bottom lip as he sits the fruit there. Your lips part and he pushes it forward, your teeth sinking into it. A burst of sweetness and tartness sparks along your taste buds as the offering moves over your tongue.

Your stepfather makes a little satisfied humming sound, his eyes transfixed by the movement of your mouth as he consumes the remainder. There’s a slight red stain from the juice you notice tucked into the nail bed of his index finger and your mouth waters.

You sit at the kitchen table, in your mother’s usual seat, this time without any prompting. Your bare foot touches Steve’s as he settles into the chair beside you, setting plates with a stack of the griddlecakes before each of you. It’s just a gentle brush of skin against skin but you feel it strike you like a matchstick scraping red phosphorus, igniting your core.

The pancakes are delicious—light, fluffy. You chew around a forkful smothered in chocolate syrup and whipped cream and strawberries and your eyes stray to the older man’s bare scarred forearms, the sleeves he’d shoved up to his elbows when he’d started preparing the meal still gathered around the crease of his arms. Your stepfather has opted for the more traditional butter and maple syrup—the real kind, not that synthetic chemical laden variety—and you watch fascinated as he swallows in large bites, making short work of what’s in front of him. You wonder if he’s starving, or if it’s simply the way a man consumes things, because everything with a man is larger, stronger, more aggressive…

“Is it good?” His eyes haven’t moved from your face.

“Yes, Daddy. Thank you.”

His lips twitch. “You’re welcome, baby girl. Do you want more?”

“I’m full.”

“Are you?” A full on smirk and your stomach flutters. “I’m not.” He stands, offering a hand to you. You let him pull you to your feet. He slides his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging your head back gently. “Did you miss me today, Princess?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you say softly. Your pussy is absolutely throbbing. Just like flicking a light switch, he’s got you instantly worked up.

“Good girl. I missed you, too.” He releases his hold of you, arm sweeping across the island still dotted with ingredients and cookware and utensils to clear a space for you, some of the items falling to the linoleum. “Let’s get you up here, hmmm? Take everything off.”

Your heart thuds in your chest. You pull your pajama top off, hearing the whistle of air sucked into Steve’s lungs. The bottoms and your panties follow. You leave everything in a pile on the floor. Calloused hands wrap around your waist and he lifts you easily, sitting you on the end of the counter. The surface is cool against your heated skin.

“Lie back, sweet girl.” You obey, gasping slightly when the granite touches your bare shoulder blades as you recline supine along the length of the island, your legs dangling off the end of the counter.

Steve’s warm hand drags over your naked body admiringly, caressing you from knee to hip, kneading the curve of one breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers and tugging slightly.

“Where to even begin…” The bearded man sighs heavily, as if the dilemma is a weighty one. You hear him lift something from the counter above your head.

It’s the maple syrup.

He unscrews the cap then tips the glass bottle at an angle. The amber liquid within begins to spill out and he drizzles it over your torso, the first drops pattering against your collarbone, then across one breast, trailing a stripe down your abdomen, letting it pool in your umbilicus.

His eyes are lidded. He looks drunk off the sight of you, completely intoxicated by your naked body lying there sticky sweet beside him. When his face descends for that first kiss along the stretch of bone near your throat you think you’ve rocketed straight to heaven; try to mentally prepare yourself for the torment of hell your sin warrants.

You feel the rasp of that muscular organ stroke along the liquid nectar he’s just poured there, a slow, incessant drag. He lingers over your breast, sucking on your nipple and your back arches, your hand reaching to thread through his hair. You’re whimpering already and he’s barely begun.

Your stepfather moves from the side of the island to the end, dipping down once again to lav at the sweetness gathered in the divot above your mound, one hand caressing the back of your knee. You’re torn between craning your neck to watch what he’s doing and letting your head flop back against the hard surface, staring at the ceiling sightlessly while the man continues to lick you.

He kisses your abdomen and then he hooks his arms around your thighs, dragging you closer to him. You hear the scrape of one of the kitchen chairs as it’s pulled from its place beneath the table nearby and the older man settles into it, his fingers stroking your hips.

Then his mouth is finally there, where you need him most. You both moan together at that first taste. His tongue swirls around the bundle of nerves. Strokes between your lips and thrusts against your entrance, meeting resistance as the interior of that sacred place is still shielded with the skin that protects your virginity.

“Please…Daddy…I need…”

“What do you need, baby girl?” His breath is warm against the crook of your leg.

“I want…I want your fingers inside…”

Another gentle kiss. “It’s going to hurt.”

“I know,” you say softly. You’re afraid, but your desire for that forbidden destruction into your hollow is too strong.

“You’re sure you’re ready?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He’s right. It does hurt.

It burns when that index finger—maybe the same strawberry juice stained one from earlier—thrusts forward. You can feel your body resisting the intrusion. His mouth covers your clit and it distracts you from the discomfort a little. He advances a bit further, and then abandons the gentle motion abruptly to finish stretching, tearing, driving his finger forward until it’s completely sheathed inside you. Like ripping a bandaid off, just getting it over with. You cry out. All of that supply of moisture from arousal seems to have been depleted, replaced now with hot, sticky blood. Steve extracts that digit and then shoves it right back in. Repeats the process. His tongue strokes along your lips. You feel saliva dripping down and it makes the passage of his finger easier. It burns and aches but beneath it, there’s something. An ease of tension. It feels better when you relax, when you let him fuck into you. You weave your fingers between the ones resting on your abdomen and he squeezes your hand.

“Good girl,” he murmurs.

You want to be a good girl. His good girl.

***

You never cease to surprise him.

William had thought he’d merely be eating you out on the kitchen counter but here you are, asking him to violate you. You’re so tight. It’s going to take a lot to work you open and grant him better access for more fingers and his fat prick in the future. That knowledge excites him.

He withdraws his finger and sucks the blood off of it. Metallic, musky, bitter. Eases the wet phalange back inside your canal. Sucks your clit and feels your body responding, relaxing. Curls the finger when he violates you again, seeking that sensitive spongy tissue. Your thighs tremor violently against his cheeks. A series of moans, whimpers, cries, as if you cannot decide on which sound to make. He loves pulling them out of you.

“Daddy…”

God, does that turn him on. His cock lurches at the title and he redoubles his efforts, letting his mouth grow more slack, letting saliva ooze over your cunt. He can tell you’re enjoying it again, the pain fading beneath the waves of pleasure. His tongue strokes outside and his finger plucks along your g spot and you cum, the hand holding his squeezing painfully but he enjoys it, tasting and feeling you come apart, lost in the haze of the feeling he creates deep within you.

William allows you time to recover, rising from his seat and walking to the side of the counter, bending to kiss you. Your mouth is slack, open, ready for him. He steals the breaths you gasp. Assists you down from the slab of granite and hugs you against him, his erection pressing along your lower spine. Your hands brace against the edge of the counter. He shoves the waistband of his pajama pants and briefs down, stroking that impatient rosy flesh. Wipes a smear of precum against the curve of your buttocks.

“You’re such a good girl for Daddy. Such a good daughter…” The words seem to come from a distant place, as if he is lost in the echos of a past memory.

He tugs until the pressure building within finally releases, a thick spray of hot seed painting your ass cheek. You turn in his arms and he kisses your mouth and that is how the meal concludes.

#william afton x you #william afton x reader #steve raglan x you #steve raglan x reader #william afton #steve raglan #fnaf fanfic #fnaf movie #dividers credit @saradika-graphics

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