#mike Schmidt Drabble

[dorkszn]

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 ✧ 𝐦. 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐭

— nsfw under the cut; dom reader, sub!mike, movie!mike, begging, cumming in pants

“get up.” mike says sternly, glaring from beneath you. you scoff and lean in a little closer to him. you straddle his legs, your arms crossed on his chest, pinning him down.

“you said you were off tonight,” you ignore his order. he said he was off tonight then you saw him dressed with his security vest on. “you lied to me and abby.” you add. mike sighs, glancing away from you before looking back into your eyes. the eye contact immediately falls as he looks away once more.

“i know. i just… i have something important to do.” he explains, looking everywhere except at you.

“so me and abs aren’t important?” you murmur, slightly tilting your head to the side. his eyes widen a bit.

“i didn—“ mike’s words break off into a soft whine as you slowly push your hips forward; grinding yourself onto his cock through your thin shorts. a smug grin covers your face as he pulls himself together. “i didn’t say that. it’ll be quick, promise.”

“you also promised you’d watch a movie with me.” you hum, rolling your hips again. you watch as his eyes squeeze shut.

“i know. and— i swear we will, as soon as i get back.” he nods.

“mike…” you whine. you feel his dick twitch in his pants when his name rolls off your tongue. “can’t you stay just one more hour?” the soft drawl of your smooth voice forces mike to gulp, feeling himself starting to get hard in his jeans. you press harder against his growing erection.

“y/n, please.” he groans in a low voice. you don’t answer and repeat the movements of your hips. a shaky breath followed by a quiet moan leaves his throat.

you lean down, ghosting by his lips and to his ear. “i know how sensitive you are, mike,” you murmur against the shell of his ear. you press a kiss on his skin. “just one more hour. please?” you plead.

you continue the push of your hips; grinding your core on him. you begin kissing him all over. moving from his ear and down his jaw; whispering a small “please” between each kiss.

“fuck, y/n. i gotta go.” his hands find your hips but don’t stop you, simply holding you.

“so… stop?” you halt your movements, seeing that expression on mike’s face. as much as you wanted this, you had no problem leaving him like this. on the edge. and he knew it. his grip on your waist tightens when he comes to a decision.

“no… no, please, don’t stop.” his short brunette curls move slightly as he shakes his head. you smile before going back to leaving kisses everywhere and softly sucking on his skin. he begins to desperately rut his hips, meeting you halfway each time.

“see? you can be such a good boy for me.” you whisper. his lips part, nothing but a strangled moan coming out. eventually, even you’re letting out small whimpers.

he babbles hundreds of incoherent words, most of them being curse words. “ngh- shit y/n, get up.” he whines.

“but you’re so so close,” you mumble, moving more erratically. mike’s hold falters as his eyes roll and he quickly shuts them.

“y/n. oh fuck. y/n, i’m gonna—“ you capture his words in a kiss. you take in the sweet sounds he releases into your mouth as cum finally spills from his tip. his flowing seed stains his boxers; pooling onto the fabric.

you sit there as he pants, chest heaving up and down. he forces his breathing back to normal, coming down from his high. his sensitive cock now buzzing in his jeans.

a few seconds later, he grabs your waist again, pushing you off him. you roll onto the bed, bursting out into a giggle fit. mike sits up, glaring at you. you yelp when he pokes you before standing up from the bed.

“when i get home, you are dead.” he threatens, searching for a new pair of clean underwear.

“i love you too, mike.”

[luxbub]

(nsfw) i need mike schmidt carnally COUGHS who said that—

anyway may i request sub!Mike and anything to do with overstim or breeding with some praise thrown in there? maybe jacking him off repeatedly until he’s cum multiple times and made a mess of both of you 😳😳😳

AHAHAH i’m obsessed with the idea of sub!mike like you can’t tell me that man is at least not a switch

Thought i hate to say that i’m kinda sick and at the moment i don’t really like the way i wrote it so ill probably try to edit it when i feel better

sub!mike schmidt overstim

minors DNI +18

sub!mike who just can’t keep it quiet, always panting and whimpering at your touch

sub!mike who could cum just by looking at your bouncing tits as you ride him

sub!mike whose cock was still milked from his previous orgasms and was twitching helplessly against your coated with release walls

sub!mike who’s lazy thrusts were hitting at your spot just right, as you started to tortuously speed up your rythme

sub!mike who suddenly felt another orgasmic wave coming at him as you squeezing his cock

sub!mike who was shaking his head at your words “one more baby, just one more f’me” but you smiled as his cock stirred inside of you and his hands tightened their grip on your hips

sub!mike whose cock started to lazy thrust up at you, only after you tugged at the fallen strands of his hair, making him whine

sub!mike whose vision clouded as you told him “i want to hear you” after you saw him trying to shuffle his whines

sub!mike whose whimpers were getting louder and louder the harder you humped at him, until he shot his hot release into your walls

[bettysupremacy]

What do you think of Mike with a low key rich babysitter reader, and she's like so nice so she pays his bills cause she knows he's struggling and buys him food?

I think that’s a gorgeous idea & I’m sorry I posted it 5 months later 🎀

You dance around his living room, picking up crayons and stuffed animals. Typical night for you. There’s a bottle of milk stuffed under your arm, slowly leaking onto the carpet before you notice it.

“Shit,” you hush, rearranging your grip.

You hadn’t spoken to Mike since last night when he’d dropped off $20, then kissed you and fled feeling like an idiot when you’d stood there shocked. But you’d come over today without calling and he couldn’t have been more grateful. Selfishly, he’d been concerned about finding a babysitter as lenient about pay as you.

“Y/n.”

“Shit,” You flinch, dropping the teddy bear known as Freddy, and the milk.

“I pay for a babysitter, not a housemaid.”

He doesn’t even really pay for you. ‘Cept for $20 when he can afford it. You don’t want him to either. He needs a babysitter, you need to get out of the house, it’s a good deal.

“Sorry.” You’re not, and he knows you’re not, but he lets it slide.

“I don’t need charity.” He drops his keys onto the table and stalks into the kitchen. “don’t need it.”

“You’re not charity.” You mumble, digging the toe of your shoe into the carpet embarrassed.

He opens the fridge loudly, pausing, the full fridge foreign to him. You’re done for. He’d told you no more shopping. No more pitying him, no more paying his light bill, no more grocery shopping. “Y/n?”

“Yes, Mike?” You try to sound chipper.

“What did I just say?”

“You pay for a babysitter not a maid?”

“After that.”

“Um,” you stall, “I’m not really sure, I think I hear Abby crying, maybe I should—“

“I said no charity,” he sighs, closing the door to look back at you. “I don’t need charity.”

“It’s really not charity.” You stumble out, tripping to get off your knees. “I was at the store with Abby earlier cause I was hungry and—“

“Y/n.”

“Yes?”

“Just not again.”

You sigh. “Kay.”

The silence is almost unbearable. “Hey, um,” he starts “about last night..”

“It’s okay.” You almost rush out. Embarrassed, you scratch your neck. “I mean, it was okay with me.”

“Oh,” he doesn’t know where to start.

“Yeah,” you nod, dusting off your jeans. “so if you don’t need me I’ll be out of your way.”

“Wait!” He panics.

You look back, hope gleaming in your pretty eyes. “Yes?”

“It was okay with you?”

“Well,” you nod slowly, unable to look him in the eyes. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, turning his head away. “Yeah, you’d let me do it again?”

“Yeah I’m hoping you’ll do it again.”

He walks over, socked feet making noise against his cheap carpet. Abby’s baby monitor hums softly next you to and vaguely you wonder if you should check on her. Mike doesn’t seem to mind. He grabs your wrist, thumb pushing into your pulse.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “for bothering you.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “You don’t bother me.”

He sighs. “With the bills and the money.”

“Oh,” you whisper. “I don’t mind.”

“I know,” his lips turn up a little. “you’re kind. Too kind probably, and you can spend your money on whatever you like, but don’t splurge on me.”

“It’s not splurging,” you reassure. “I’m helping a friend.”

He grimaces, closing his eyes and sighing through his nose. You’re unsure which part of your sentence cause this reaction. Helping or friend.

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks softly, looking up at you.

You nod, grabbing his own wrist, pulling him closer. He shakes his head at your movement.

“Words.”

It’s funny, his actions reminds you of how you are with Abby. “Can I help you with this?” And “Use your words please.”

“Yes,” you breathe out. “yeah, please.”

He nods, dipping down to kiss you slowly. Yeah, his lips are a little chapped, but it’s soft, like he’s scared of breaking you. He pulls you in closer, hand sliding over to the dip in your back. You wrap your arms around him, scrunching his tee shirt in your warm fists.

He pulls back, panting. “No more charity, okay?”

[strangererotica]

18+

Mike Schmidt x Reader drabble • word count 179

You shouldn’t even be here; this is Mike’s new job after all. But when you showed up in the middle of the night, standing half-naked outside the entrance of Freddy’s, you knew exactly the effect it would have on Mike. As soon as he saw his girlfriend on the security cam, soaked head-to-toe with rain and casually flashing him under your raincoat, the damage was done. Mike practically ran to the door to let you in, one hand holding his keys, the other working his pants undone on the way.

First, he pinned you up against a wall at the entrance and reminded you that “breaking and entering is a criminal offense.” It was hard to speak up for yourself with Mike’s hand lightly closed around your throat; but you weren’t interested in defending yourself, anyway. Mike’s lip turned upward as his hand slid under your raincoat. “Public indecency’s also a crime,” he murmured, and you laughed, playfully shoving him. “Oh yeah, tough guy?” you teased. “Want me to show you how indecent I can be…?”

[janitorhutcherson]

Apocolypse (Mike Schmidt Fluff)

haiii guys mike schmidt fluff that’s not edited that i wrote for sophie girl plz enjoy💕

——————

It was cold, rainy, dark, and the mild smell of mildew wafted through the kitchen from the leak we were far too broke to fix as I stirred a pot of spaghetti sauce on the stove for the 100th time this week. Abby’s comfort food, spaghetti, had been the only thing she’d promised to scarf down this week, since she’d reverted back to her state of pre-teen defiance. Mike had refused to oblige in the beginning, but I reminded him that this was not the first instance of this, and that a week later she’d be back to normal.

There was a constant tsunami of negativity in my head, convincing me I belonged everywhere and nowhere all at once. The Schmidt family were my family, too. I knew this. Mike reminded me of this every day he called me ‘wife’ as an endearing pet name, when he would remind me that we need to go grocery shopping for our shared space, or when he’d mention a planned future vacation. Abby called me her sister, told me she loved me, and even called me names during fights as if I were blood.

This was home, but why couldn’t I allow myself to relax as if it was?

Abby was currently in her room, finishing up some homework she had so desperately tried to avoid until Mike demanded she get it done before dinner. Mike was nowhere to be seen, that is, until a pair of arms drifted around my waist, kissing my neck and interrupting my endless flow of mind numbing thoughts. My brain refocused on the task at hand, the sound of Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex playing from the low radio in the background, adding a softer ambience to what once felt like a tense space.

Mike’s body tensed up against mine as our skin touched, almost as if my muscles had sent him a single of distress, calling out for help like some sort of helpless stranded person at sea. His chin fell down to rest on my shoulder, his breathing heavy against my ear as he slowly began to sway to the music as he always did. He loved music and always had. Soft melodies quickly replaced the habit of crickets and rustling leaves at night, something I’d soon grown accustomed to after many nights of sleeping aside a snoring Mike Schmidt.

“You okay, baby?” Mike asked sweetly in my ear, continuing to sway side to side as I stared down at the spaghetti sauce that was seconds from burning if I didn’t refocus my attention. I leaned forward, turning the eye of the stove off and pushing the pot back, allowing the boiling pasta to continue to cook. I didn’t react to Mike, causing him to shift from foot to foot, the change in his weight distribution felt in my back. “C’mon, honey, talk to me,” he mumbled out, spinning my body around so that my back was leaned against the stove, my eyes facing into his worried hazel ones.

A sigh escaped my lips as I noticed the worry etched into his face, a sight that always made my stomach drop and my heart pound in a bitter sweet way.

He cared, but he cared so much he was hurt.

My eyebrows furrowed as I forced a smile and Mike frowned, shaking his head. He didn’t say much else but instead mumbled a simple ‘come here,’ and once again his arms were wrapped around my waist, this time in a loose manner. He began to sway our bodies back and forth again, this time with his forehead placed on mine. I could feel his breath and hear the loud ‘thump’ of his heartbeat and I couldn’t help but to smile, closing my eyes and basking in the moment.

Got the music in you, baby, tell me why…

As the music played, Mike leaned over and turned the radio up, his hips now moving with mine at a less subtle but still melodic pace. His hands rubbed gentle circles at the small of my back as his giddy smile seeped directly into my core, causing my cheeks to heat up as he looked at me with that love struck look that hit every single receptor possible in my body.

You’ve been locked in here forever…

“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” Mike muttered to me, furrowing his eyebrows as he leaned forward to press a soft, sweet, tender kiss to my lips. Fireworks went off in every part of my body as I felt like I was vibrating, my head starting to spin.

And you just can’t say goodbye…

A small laugh left my lips of embarrassment as I looked into his eyes, my arms hooking around his neck as I moved my body with his now, pressing my body to mold with his perfectly as it always did. We were like complex decorative lego pieces clicking into place every time, made for each other in a way that we couldn’t fit with anyone else. I closed my eyes for a moment, basking in everything I could.

“Your lips, my lips,” Mike sang out loud this time, his teeth showing with his cheesy grin. He was off key and he sang it low, his voice cracking, but god, I didn’t care. It was like an angelic siren song from heaven to me.

“Apocalypse…” We finished off singing together, both of our eyes now closed as we basked in the love that beamed off of the other. I became painfully aware of my silence, the thoughts that once drowned my brain like a tsunami taking over subsiding. I took a short but steady breath as I played with the baby hairs on the back of his neck.

“I love you, Mike Schmidt,” I said, my voice dripping with sap that it always did when my feelings for him became overwhelmingly apparent. Mike’s eyes opened to lock with mine once more as once of his hands came up to rest on my check. “And how I love you, sweetheart,” he practically sang out, our lips locking in one final quick peck.

Perhaps I did belong here, because even in the simpler moments where everything was suffocating, Mike Schmidt was there, his lips, my lips, a perfect puzzle piece snapping into place

I am always home in his arms.

[kolsmikaelson]

sleep deprived mike schmidt who’s too tired to fuck you after a long shift at freddy’s and keeps a multitude to toys in his bedside table to use on you when he gets home. when he gets home he makes a quick pitstop at abby’s room to check on her before making his way into your shared room where he finds you waiting on him. makeup done messily, nothing but the sheets on the bed covering your naked body. “which one y’want tonight, baby,” he murmurs, rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes, “this one?” he questions, holding up a lengthy pink dildo, knowing it’s your favorite one. it’s similar in size to him and the closest thing you can get to mike when he’s gone. he’ll drag it up and down the insides of your thighs before slapping it on your clit, loving the way your body jerks in response to him. before you know it, he’s roughly slamming the dildo into you, fucking you fast and hard with it, just the way you like.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

«Soft Hands || Mike Schmidt ||

A/n: I love this man

Prompts used:

calloused hands in soft hands

comparing hand-sizes to hold their hand against the other’s and then just holding hands

Mike would always make an excuse to hold your hand, they were so soft in his hands. He was nervous at first, he knew how rough his hands could be, how calloused they were. But you just smiled then gave his hand a squeeze. He swore he fell more in more in love with you that day.

Your name spilled from his lips, your head turned it look at him.

“What is it?”

“C…can I try something?”

Humming you smiled dropping a dish in the sink, drying your hands you stepped in front of Mike with a grin on your face. “What is it?”

“I just.” Grabbing your hand, Mike placed his hand on top of yours. “Look how small your hands are in mine.”

A small laugh escaped your lips as you glanced at his hand, his palm dwarfing yours. “You know Mike.” You wove your hand through his own giving his hand a squeeze. “If you wanted to hold my hand you just had to ask.”

Teasing him for a moment, you watched the man’s cheeks turn a bright red. “I wasn’t.”

Standing on your toes, you shook your head giving him a teasing smile. “It’s cute…so don’t get so worked up about it.” You then pressed your lips against his own as he wrapped his arm around your waist drawing you in close.

Sighing, he gave you a tired smile then rested his head against your own. “I love you.” He muttered feeling you nuzzle into his chest.

Smiling, your fingers clutched his sweater. “I love you too Mike.”

[rodolfoparras]

Thinking about Mike and the kinks he likes to indulge in 18+

Pairing: top male reader x Mike Schmidt

cw: riding,

Thinking about Mike who loves when you play with his hair, who will lay his head on your lap just to feel your fingers running through the curls at the back of his neck, body relaxing in your embrace, soft hums escaping his lips and goosebumps raising across his body every time your nails scratch his skin.

He feels content almost too content because soon he‘s squirming around on the couch while sporting a boner.

You don’t notice it at first too engulfed in your tv show as you continue to rack your hands through his hair, and each time you do so he feels his cock twitch in attention.

He tries to be subtle about it, pressing his thighs together while you aren’t looking but he’s being so loud, whines and whimpers tumbling past his lips as the spot on his sweats darkens every time he squeezes his legs together.

It doesn’t take much before you catch him red handed, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips while he profusely apologizes for getting a boner, because how embarrassing isn’t it that he’s getting hard while you’re just playing with his hair.

But he doesn’t get to dwell too long in his embarrassment as he feels his cock hard and aching between his legs.

Mike’s eyes are glassy, cheeks flushed and hands immediately grabbing for your thighs.

“Please please,” he croaks out, while tugging at your sweats.

“What do you want pretty?” You say, hands gently running through his hair, before yanking at it slightly when he doesn’t answer your question. “Words Mike”

“Please, please touch me sir” he croaks out while nuzzling his face into your leg and oh how can you deny such a sweet request

It doesn’t take much before he’s straddling your waist stark naked and sinking down on your length with his brown curls tangled in between your fingers

Usually he’d hide his face in your neck, too shy to show how good you’re making him feel but with your hand in his hair he has no choice but to show you the fat tears trickling down his face, cheeks flushed and drool dribbling down his chin as he practically bounces in your lap

The pain from your rough grip only sends jolts of pleasure coursing through his body and before he knows of it he’s tipping over the edge, hole clenching around your length and ropes of cum spurting on both your abdomens.

“So hair pulling huh?” You mutter into his hair as he slumps down into your embrace, your words only earning a slap to your chest.

[bunnybunbun0]

Mikey is sooo the type of boyfriend to hold your hands while he fucks you.

You don´t even care on how roughly your back is pressed against the wall of a random storage room of fazbear´s,or about how his hard on is pressed insistently against your hip,not that you can when his mouth is so busy giving atention to your neck.

The open mouthed kisses on your neck were gentle,like the soothing feeling of his hand always gripping your delicate one. The grip suddenly gets tighter when the kisses that were taking gasps out of you turns into possessive bites,the both of you having the amazing feeling that youre being marked.

The only moment your eyes shot open is when his hand left yours,but only for a split second to grab your waist and pull you into his lap while he sits on a chair in the corner. You fail to stifle a needy whimper when he roughly presses your drenched pussy against his boner. His smirk shows you he didnt missed it.

"Youre liking this arent you?" His lips are toying with the lobe of your ear "Naughty girl" His low guttural chuckle ignites something in you.

"Please mikey..." Boy,he swears he will never get tired of his name coming out your pretty lips with a beg.

"Relax princess,ill give you just what you need."

And the last thing you recall befre being ravashed and getting absolutely cock drunk is his hands once more holding yours tenderly.

[ivrgrl]

mornings┆mike schmidt !

contains; sfw! lots of fluff. gn!reader. established relationships. no use of (y/n). loverboy!mike.

mike’s eyes drink in every aspect of your features as you sleep, the sun peaking through the blinds and reflecting across your peaceful face.

his alarm had sounded five minutes ago. he should be up, getting dressed into uniform for the shitty fast-food job he was working this month, waking up abby for school, finishing packing her lunch. but instead, he found himself glued to the rickety old bed the two of you shared.

physically, nothing held mike down next to you. he knew how important it was for him to be on time for this new job, he’d only been working there for a week. how important it was that he get abby to school on time, resenting the snide looks he got from the other children's snobbish mothers whenever he was late to drop abby off. yet he couldn’t pull himself away from you.

his eyes study your soft breaths and the gentle rise and fall of the blanket. they linger on the ever-so-slight part of your lips and the delicate way your eyelashes rest on your cheeks. the warm rays of sun highlight your features, capturing every hue of your skin as if in a painting.

part of him wanted to wake you up; to see the gentle flutter of your eyes and the sleepy smile that graced your lips when you recognized him beside you. you would whisper a quiet ‘good morning’ and nestle closer to him, drawn to his warmth.

but he couldn’t bring himself to do that. it was too early for you on your day off, he couldn’t be selfish. you were too angelic, too peaceful in your slumber. it would only hurt to know that he took that away from you.

and in this moment, it’s fortunate that you’re such a deep sleeper, as the sound of mike’s alarm clock rings out again. he bites his tongue as he realizes that he had only hit ‘snooze’ when he had attempted to silence the blaring noise from the clock earlier.

he sighs, knowing that if he didn’t begin getting ready for work now, he would be kicking himself later. reluctantly, he sits up in bed, taking one last lingering glance at your peaceful form. he can’t resist pressing a gentle kiss to your temple before finally mustering the willpower to climb out from under the sheets.

for now, he would let you sleep in, cherishing the fleeting moments of tranquillity. . . but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to resist the allure of your sleepy ‘good morning’ kiss before he left for work.

[dorkszn]

mike overstimming you <3

cw — female reader, bondage, overstimulation, oral sex, dom!mike, brat taming, pussy spanking

your chest heaves up and down as you chase your breath. your legs weak muscles quiver below you from your previous orgasm. what had to be your 3rd? 4th maybe. your mind was beginning to feel too fuzzy to keep count.

“gonna give me another one?” mike questions from between your legs. your slick and his drool coats his lips but he doesn’t care. he just sits there, looking at you with hooded-eyes and the top buttons of his dress shirt undone.

the simple question increases the tears welling in your eyes. just the mere thought of him ripping another orgasm from you terrified you. “i— i can’t, mike. s’too much,” you whine back, tugging at his tie that was wrapped around your wrist, cutting into your skin from your pulling at it.

your body jolts and a cry leaves you when mike’s hand comes down on your cunt, sensitivity buzzing throughout your whole body. “should’ve thought about that before acting out all day,” he scoffs in response. mike takes your thighs into his grip, spreading your legs for him once more and they almost automatically wrap around him.

a chuckle leaves him as he smirks, watching your hips buck up, bringing yourself closer to his face. “look at that, you’re basically begging for another one.” mike hums, spreading your pussy lips with his fingers. he presses a small kiss against your swollen clit.

“you’re so mean,” you whimper. suddenly mike teases your entrance with his tongue. it pushes you over the edge, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“i don’t know… I think I’m being pretty nice. we can make it 6 if im so mean,” he mutters. you weakly babble out ‘no’, pulling at the bondage of your wrist. “ok so behave and give me one more.”

mike takes your sensitive bud into his mouth while prodding at your entrance with his fingers. your cries and moans fall on deaf ears as mike focuses on “his meal.” you feel your legs tighten around his head when he slides 2 of his digits into your cunt; your body immediately fluttering around him.

his free hand pulls on your one of your legs, forcing them open once more. “keep. them. open.”

[tubatuclaws]

being sleepy eepy in mike's couch after babysitting abby the whole night. your intention wasn't to sleep, but you were so tired that you just passed out on the couch. when mike is home, he can't help but chuckle with the sight of you looking more dead than asleep, wrapped in white sheets and a little closer to fall from the couch. after admiring all of you, he kneels in front of you and get your messy hair off your forehead, pressing a soft kiss to it. he reluctantly wakes you up, asking if you want to sleep with him on his bedroom, an genuine smile apparent in his face.

[teletubbyinlipstick]

Do you write for any fandom?

Hello! The fandoms I have written for:

Naruto

Criminal Minds

CoD

Fairy Tail

Teen Wolf

The Last of Us

The Walking Dead

Bridgerton (Always)

Ouran High-School Host Club

Charmed

Marvel

J. R. R. Tolkien (Always)

Mike Schmidt (FNAF Movie)

Squid Game

Fandoms I am currently writing for:

CoD

Criminal Minds

Mike Schmidt/FNAF

Squid Game

What I Dont Write:

Rape

Incest

Pedophilia

Cheating (traumatized, lmao)

Beastilality

Scat/Vomit Kink

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I will absolutely update when/if this changes, and imma pin this to the top so others can see it! Thank you for reaching out, I hope this helps!!

[ieatedyourcrayons]

Mike Schmidt drabble

Mike and you worked the night shift together, most nights were boring. Except for tonight.. tonight was chaotic. The animatronics randomly decided to move around tonight after not doing it for a week.

Tonight they decided to mess up everything they came in contact with. The kitchen was trashed, trash cans were knocked over, things ripped of the wall, etc.

At one point freddy stepped on a knocked over pot and went tumbling over. You and Mike were in the middle of cleaning up some trash when a loud crash sounds through the pizzeria. You and mike both look up towards the noise then back at eachother before groaning.

Once you two get in the kitchen, freddy is laid on the floor doing his walking animation and lightly rocking side to side. You and mike sigh as you’re both thinking about how yall are going to get this huge robot off the floor..

[janitorhutcherson]

do you guys fuck with this. do you want more

hey bitches!! it’s e, i’m backkkk. i had a fic idea, something i think i’ll use for a lot of new content if y’all react well to it. to give y’all a run down before we get into it, this is a famous!mike schmidt au.

basically mike is josh hutcherson. reader (you) are his live in PR assistant. not sure the perfect word for it, but basically you manage his social media presence, the way he dresses, how he is in public, attend all events with him to monitor him, etc…… kinda like a babysitter….. also, could technically be a part of olderbf!mike because reader is 22, mike is 31. anywaysss..! it’s a new idea, i just wanted to set the scene. the way i’m writing this is different from usual. plz let me know what you think! if y’all like i’ll write more in this universe🤭

summary: ur actor mike schmidt’s assistant!!

warnings: angsty, just an introduction to an idea.

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mike schmidt was a mess, and everybody knew it. that was part of what was so appealing to the public. he was a celebrity, a famous actor, known for various movies, tv shows. he was glamorized, lived in LA just like the rest of them, edits to upbeat songs all over social media with his hips swaying from some random snippet of a trailer. yes, mike schmidt was a heart throb, but he wasn’t your typical golden boy. he wore jeans and raggedy t-shirts to interviews. his brown curly locks were always tangled and sticking in fifty different directions. his stubble was always a little too rough, his hands calloused and bruised to masculine perfection. he wore snap backs and had no sense of what a filter was. he said things as they were on stages, into microphones, or on livestreams, silly phrases coming out of his pink lips. he was carefree, not glamorous nor slouchy but instead some odd middle ground that left women with slack jaws and puddles of drool. he was what every woman actually wanted when they said they wanted a man ‘written by a woman,’ or so they thought he was.

in reality, mike was the biggest pain in the ass to walk the earth. while most 22-year-olds got to save pictures of him to their pinterest boards and kick their feet every time he came into their tv screen, you were stuck managing his every move, saving his ass from letting the wrong thing fall from his mouth in front of the wrong audience. you were his manager, of everything, really. you managed his social media, coached him through what to say during interviews, inspected the clothing he wore before events… there wasn’t quite anything you didn’t do for mike. the two of you had a weird connection since you’d started, not quite foes but certainly not friends. the air was always somewhat tense, something you were all too aware of whenever you’d have an interaction with him. you knew it needed to change, and fast.

you’d gotten the job fresh out of college, extremely eager to take such a high paying position. you were lucky and you were aware, your gratitude something you showed through your endless devotion to being the best manager, and hopefully one day friend, mike could have. when you’d first been offered the position, part of what made it so appealing was knowing not only were you being paid, but you were given a room to stay, in the same home as mike. it was crucial, living alongside your boss in order to keep him in check. when you’d walked into a meeting room after you’d accepted the position, you were debrief about mike, told he was… difficult, to put up with. he tended to push his previous managers to the limit, his somewhat childlike demeanor sending them running the other direction. you accepted this as a challenge, something to motivate you to prove that you were worth more than the other old and dried up pieces of talent they’d had in here.

oh boy, did you have another thing coming. you weren’t any different to mike. sure, you were gorgeous, your eyes a color he could drown in, your laugh something he grew oh so fond of over the past few months you’d lived with him, but you were just another manager… right? it was his job to make this difficult for you. that’s how he saw it. so, you fought like you were pulling teeth, demanding he go change before going out like he was your 14-year-old daughter when he’d come out in a bleach stained t-shirt. you’d have to keep him from posting selfies of him smoking a joint on FACEBOOK just to cause a stir. for gods sake, you didn’t care if he put them anywhere else, just please, not where all the old people were. you’d argue late at night when you’d both head back to his place, your eyes filled with fiery anger after he’d drop some stupid shit in an interview, accidentally saying something about how one of his older costars were a “dried up old fashioned hag who needed to get some.” was he wrong…? no. but that didn’t mean he could say it.

he’d always yell back, his eyes filled with just as much anger. you went about this charade almost every time something had to be done. it could be a red carpet event, an awards dinner, an interview, even simply a live stream, there was always something with mike, something to yell and scream about. you constantly tried your hardest to stress how much you cared about this job, about him even too, sometimes blurring the line between professionalism and feelings as you’d get a little too intimate about the things you’d left behind, desperate for him to understand you, to see you.

it wasn’t until one night you’d finally had enough. he’d changed outfits right before a big interview that could’ve got him in front of multiple big directors, something big, even more groundbreaking for him. he’d been in an elegant outfit that fit his body so well, just like a glove, you could only imagine. of course, he hated it. he hated being coaxed into things, told what to do, to say, and currently, both were happening. when no one was watching, he’d slipped himself into a pair of black jeans and a tank top, walking out just like that, then proceeding to insult every director there individually. you were dumbfounded. no, he wasn’t drunk. no, he wasn’t high, medicated, or under any influence. this was just… mike, and you were starting to have enough.

the moment the two of you entered the house, you’d went at it, your face red from anger. how could he? how could he go out and blatantly go against everything you’d said purely out of boredom? he was a grown man, you’d think he could do better than this. you were embarrassed, not even for yourself as who represented him even though you should’ve been, but for him. you wanted this for him. your eyes locked on his, the moment you slammed the door shut. his big, beautiful brown eyes you most definitely didn’t mind looking into, no matter how angry you were. “mike, what the fuck,” was all you could say before he stuck his hand up. he went to turn on his heel, not even bothering to listen to a word you’d have to say.

that’s when you did something you didn’t think you’d do. this time, you’d let something slip, something you’d wished you hadn’t. “mike, if this shit doesn’t stop i’m fucking quitting, i’m leaving.”

that’s all it took.

that’s all it took for him to turn back on his heel to face you, frozen. his mouth was slightly parted, his eyes wider than you’d seen them before. he looked… angry.. confused.. no, not even. he looked… sad? he fluttered his eyes, his mouth opening and closing a little. you’d known you’d lasted longer than most, but this wasn’t what you were expecting.

“don’t,” was all he said, taking a couple of steps toward you. you stood there, frozen and tense as who was basically your boss slowly moved towards you, his demeanor different than you’d seen before. he was like a lost and wounded puppy, his dark brown eyes glistening with an emotion you’d never seen in him before. he reached out, touching your shoulder. you flinched, not even because you didn’t want him to but out of instinct.

“just, don’t go, y/n. i couldn’t take it, okay? i-i’m sorry, i’m sorry i fuck around too much, i’m sorry.. i just.. i don’t want you gone,” he said, his voice was low and growly. oh. he wanted you to stay. this was the first time he’d shown any interest in you in any way other than arguing, and you didn’t know what to do. with that being said, you did what you knew how to do best.

“okay,” you simply said, nodding your head as you went to your room. that night, you’d laid in your bed conflicted about the side of the man you lived with that you saw tonight. meanwhile, while you tossed and turned in your own sheets, mike did the exact same. little did you know, you were the only person mike had ever felt a real connection with. you were the only one patient, loving, thoughtful enough to be there for him, even through his hissy fits. he adored you, your style, your walk, your laugh, your humor, and he hated it. you were in his mind 24/7 and he hated it. but no, he could never get closer, because he knew you’d leave, just like the rest, and tonight was proof.

no, if mike were to ever attempt to get closer, you’d be the one to start it. and perhaps.. perhaps you would be, perhaps this encounter would be so engrained into your brain that you think about it daily, dissecting the look on his face. but who knows? maybe next week you’ll change your mind and pack your things, walk out the door. only the narrator knows quite what’s in store for the two of you…

[inoipmcr]

"Are you sorry?" The smaller boy asked the purple one. The purple boy looked down at the pale boy. The boy who'd never get a chance to grow tall like him. "In every universe." He replied, his voice raspy. His mouth was barely moving.

"Are you sorry?" The boy asked his older brother, the older one staring down at him with tears in his eyes. A small girl drawing by his side. "In every universe."

"Are you sorry?" He asked his brother, the blonde haired boy looked at his brother. He didn't know how he'd respond to this. In his eyes, he didn't exactly do anything wrong. The blonde one was as pale as the first boy. The older one looked at his missing arm and then sighed. "In every universe." He finally said, his voice a whisper.

In. Every. Universe.