#mike schmidt x fem!reader

[redskull199987]

Plzz write fnaf Michael x femreader! It starts like a fluff and then smut👀

Lucky

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader Request Word Count:2.4k Warnings:Angst to Fluff to Smut, this got way angstier than i thought SOWWWY- but I promise, fluff ensues, Smut ensues, so MDNI/18+, Movie Spoilers Summary:After you finally return from work, a few surprises await you at home…

Masterlist

Your day had been slow. Agonizingly slow. Time seemed to go by extra slow today and by the time you finally left your office, it had felt like you had spent a week there, instead of a day. But as you slowly made your way towards your car, your mood lightened, as you remembered what would await you at home.

Your loving Boyfriend and his even sweeter little sister. 

The little family you had built over the years always managed to put a smile on your face and especially after the whole drama at that Pizza Plex, you were even more grateful for what you had.

You slightly shook your head, trying to avoid thinking of those memories. The things you had seen, while Mike and You tried to save his sister from the dead children. You hoped that they got what they wanted…and that the Monster who created them had gotten what he deserved.

Your mind was about to wander back to the memory of the springlocks violently stabbing into his chest, as a knock on your car window quite literally pulled you out of your thoughts.

A quiet gasp left your lips, as you looked outside to see who had knocked. Much to your relief, it was only your coworker, who wanted to wish you a good night. You quickly uttered your goodbyes, before finally starting the car and making your way back home.

By the time you arrived, the sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon. You quickly parked your car next to Mike´s before moving towards the entrance. 

You didn't bother turning on the lights in the hallway, as you dropped your bag to the floor and kicked off your shoes.

Before you could call out for Mike and Abby, you heard someone running towards you and as you realized what was happening, you quickly duck away, stumbling backwards.

Just in time to avoid being hit by the bat that was swung into your direction.

“Mike!! It's me!! It's just me!!”, You quickly yelled and reached for the lightswitch.

As the hallway was suddenly illuminated by the dim gleam of the ceiling light, you could make out the figure of Mike in front of you. He was breathing heavily. With the bat still in his hand, he was towering over you. He just looked at you for one more second, before finally realizing what was happening. He quickly dropped the bat, a hand flying to his face, covering his mouth in disbelief of what he had just done.

“I´m sorry…”, he mumbled, dropping to his knees,”I'm so sorry. I thought…I thought it was..that it was o-one of t-them..”

Your heart broke at the sight in front of you. You quickly pulled Mike into your arms:”It's okay, Mike. I´m alright. They're gone now. They're gone.”

You gently kissed his temple, as you saw that he tried to suppress his tears. You knew that he was having a hard time dealing with the gruesome events. It had left scars on him. Both physically and mentally.

“I´m sorry..”, he muttered once more, pulling you closer to him. You only kissed his forehead again and mumbled sweet nothings into his ear until he had calmed down again.

You gently cupped your boyfriend´s face and gave him a soft smile. To your delight, he returned the smile and leaned forward to quickly peck your lips.

The sweet moment was interrupted as the voice of Abby grabbed your attention. The young girl came running into the hallway, calling out both of your names. Your smile got even bigger as she quickly came over to you, giving you a short hug, before starting to ramble about what she had drawn today and that she wanted to show you all her artworks. You happily nodded at everything that she said. 

“Alright Abbs.”, Mike suddenly said, interrupting his sister and affectionately patting her head,”You can show her tomorrow. It's time for bed now.”

The little girl pouted for a moment and turned back to you:”But I wanna stay up and play with you.”

You gave her a mischievous smile:”I tell you something. If you promise me to go to bed now, I will play and draw with you tomorrow the entire day. And I'll make your favorite Dinner, hm?”

Abby´s face lit up in anticipation. She quickly nodded and said good Night to you and Mike, before disappearing into her room.

Mike only looked at you with admiration,”How do you alway do that?”, he asked, as the two of you also made your way to your shared bedroom.

“It´s a secret”, You grinned and let yourself fall down on the bed. A satisfied groan left your lips, as you finally felt the stress from work dissolve into nothing but hot air.

You watched how Mike pulled his Hoodie over his head and throwing it to the side. Now only left in his T-Shirt, he flopped down beside you, propping his head up on his arm and looking down at you. He didn't say anything for a few seconds, just looking you up and down, before he slowly lifted his hand and gently grasped your cheek. You gasped quietly, as he suddenly leaned forward and connected your lips in a sweet and tender kiss. It only lasted for a few seconds before he pulled back again. You looked up at him and saw that his eyes were closed, as he leaned his forehead against yours.

Finally, Mike opened his mouth to say something, but after a few seconds of silence, he closed it again and he opened his eyes. You looked at his dark orbs and almost lost yourself in all the emotions, he was trying to convey only with his gaze.

“It's okay.”, you affirmed, “I know. You don't have to say anything, Mike.”

The boy only smiled at you and it was a genuine smile. One, that you rarely got to see.

Without another word, Mike suddenly sat up, pulling you with him and into his lap. You gasped loudly at the sudden change of position, which gave Mike the chance to put his mouth back onto yours.

This kiss was different. It was passionate, hungry even. He groaned lowly as he pulled your body tighter against his. Your hands pressing up against his chest, while he explored your Body with his.

“Mike..”, you warned him, as he started to kiss your jaw, your skin burning like fire everytime his lips touched you.

“Your sister…”, You mumbled again, but you and him both knew that it was already too late, that you were already at his mercy, the gaze of yours just as hungry as his.

“We'll be quiet.”, he finally answered, as he pushed you off his lap and onto the mattress. You watched how he now also pulled his Shirt over his head, before leaning down to kiss you again. You moaned against his lips, as you felt his cold hands wander under your sweater. He squeezed your hips tenderly, while making it his mission to let you drown in his kisses. As he finally parted to help you out of your clothes, you immediately missed the feeling of his lips pressing against yours.

Quickly you pulled your sweater over your head, discarding it on the floor. Mike only admired you for a few seconds, his gaze wandering all over your Body and you felt heat rising to your cheeks.

“Don't look at me like that.”, you mumbled and gently put your hand over his eyes.

Mike only chuckled at your antics,”Like what?”, he asked, acting all innocent and letting your hand remain on top of his eyes.

After a few seconds of Silence, you slowly pulled your hand back and his eyes went back to look at you.

“Like that.”, You croaked, looking away from him.

“But why?”, Mike teased, pulling you closer to his body by your hips,”I love what I am seeing.”

Upon hearing his words, you looked back up at him. his eyes held no ounce of doubt. He was a hundred percent sure.

“I love you too, Mike”, You smiled and quickly pecked his lips. Mike only returned the smile,”May I?”, he asked, mentioning towards your bra.

You quickly nodded and mere seconds later, your bra joined the heap of clothing that was already on the floor.

Mike´s lips quickly latched onto your breast, as his hand gave the same attention to the other. With a moan, your head lolled back in pleasure.

“You like that, hm?”, Mike mumbled, as he pushed you back down on the bed. You weren't able to form a coherent sentence anymore, so you just nodded.

“Please, let me have you.”, he urged, his hands wandering to the hem of your pants,”Let me make you feel good.”

“Mike please..”, You finally pressed out,”I need you..Need you inside of me.”

That was all the confirmation he needed, before finally pulling your pants down, alongside your panties.

He slowly pushed your thighs apart and started to kiss up the inside of your calves, but never quite touching you where you desperately needed him.

“Mike please.”, You whined again, while trying to keep your voice down. But your eyes widened in surprise and you tried to suppress the loud moan that made it´s way up your throat, as Mike suddenly pushed two fingers inside you without a warning. His tongue joined mere seconds after, as he ate you out like a man starved.

Your hand wandered to Mike´s hair and you gently pulled and pushed at his head as he was working you closer to your release. You could already feel that coil form inside you and after only a few more seconds, it snapped and with a suppressed moan, you came against his mouth.

As your heavy breathing started to slow down again, Mike finally looked back up at you, the desire in his eyes bigger than ever. He quickly latched his lips on yours again and you could taste yourself on him as he kissed you hungrily.

Your hands now wandered towards his sweats and as you grabbed his already hard member through his pants. He groaned lowly, closing his eyes in pleasure.

Quickly, you pulled down his pants, leaving him now also bare in front of you. Without a second thought, you grabbed his length and gave him a few experimental pumps. That seemed to do the trick on him and you watched how Mike´s brows furrowed, as he melted against your touch.

“Wanna be inside you..”,he mumbled against the skin of your shoulder. With anticipation, you lined him up with your entrance and looked back up at him. Mike was looking at you questioningly. And as soon as you gave him a small nod, he finally pushed inside of you.

You grabbed onto his biceps, as the pain slowly dissolved into pleasure. Mike slowly started moving in and out of you, grabbing your hips tightly. You suppressed a moan by sinking your teeth into his shoulder. Not to pierce the skin, but hard enough to leave a mark.

You could hear Mike mumbling incoherent words into your ear, as he picked up his pace, desperately trying to push you over the edge again.

“Mike..”, You moaned, feeling yourself coming closer and closer to the sweet sweet relief and as you looked back into his eyes and saw the adoration that he had for you, you were done for it. You clenched around him and came all over his cock. Mike followed soon after, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm.His thrusts got slower and sloppier and he finally pulled out of you, his breath still heavy against your skin. He quickly kissed your temple, before getting up. After a minute, he returned with a damp cloth and a water bottle. With a smile still on his face, he gently cleaned you both up, before slipping back into bed with you.

You chuckled, as he nuzzled his head into your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled his body closer to yours. His warmth engulfing you fully.

“Good Night, Mike.”, you smiled and gently kissed his cheek.

“Night.”, he replied with a yawn.

It didn't go unnoticed by you, that he didn't use his pills to fall asleep today. Or the recording of nature sounds. He didn't even look up at the Poster of Nebraska, that was now hanging over his bed again.

Looking at your beloved one last time, you smiled once more before finally closing your eyes and letting sweet sleep engulf you.

Bonus:

“Mike!?”

“Miiiike!?”

“Miiiiiike!?!?”

Your eyes snapped open and within a second, you were sitting up on the bed. Your gaze wandered to the door, where loud knocks and shouts were being heard. After a few seconds of trying to understand in which century you had woken up in, you realized where you were and the events of last night returned to you.

“Mike?”, You mumbled quietly and tapped your boyfriend's shoulder, who was laying next to you,”Mike??”

With a groan, he finally looked up at you and before you had the chance to say something, he tumbled off the bed due to leaving too much over the edge.

You couldn't suppress the chuckle that left your lips as you leaned down to check on Mike.

“Morning.”, You smiled, as you realized that he was fine. You quickly leaned down to peck his lips, which immediately seemed to wake him up more.

“Miiiiike!?!”

Your sweet moment was interrupted, as you heard Abby banging against the door again.

Mike let out an annoyed groan before getting up and putting his pants back on.

“In a minute, Abbs!”, he yelled back and the banging on the door finally stopped.

“We have a lot to do today.”, you said as you finally got up too and started to get dressed.

Mike only looked at you in confusion:”What do you mean?”

“Remember how I made Abby go to sleep yesterday?”, you chuckled and softly kissed his cheek before walking to the door. Pushing the handle down, you were immediately greeted by the sight of Abby who grabbed your hand and pulled you towards her room to show you her drawings.

Mike could only look after you with a tender smile on his face. How had he gotten so lucky?

[schmidtsbimbo]

★ Older bf Mike Schmidt Headcanons ★

𖦹 Warnings: afab reader, pet names, slightly suggestive, age gap relationship, perv!mike if you squint

⋆｡°‧Requests are open! Comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated ♡

―୨୧⋆ ˚ A/N: thinking about older bf mike has had my brain mushy all day and I had to get it out of my system so this is super short , this has not been proofread ^_^

Olderbf!mike who isn’t too much into pda but still holds your hand because he knows you love it, occasionally wrapping his arms around your waist or shoulders when he’s feeling a little bolder. However, when you’re both alone he cannot keep his hands off of you. He’ll sneak up behind you while you’re cooking and snake his hands around your waist from behind, his head resting in the crook of your neck. When he’s driving his unoccupied hand is always resting on your thigh, his thumb gently rubbing small circles against your skin.

Olderbf!mike who loves how different your aesthetics are. You show up to gatherings in pink tracksuits or small skirts and tight shirts, mike trailing behind you in his blue jeans and grey zip up sweater. He stands in the doorway of the bathroom in a plain T-shirt and boxers while you’re doing your makeup, admiring the way you apply your favorite pink lipstick on your lips and the way you bat your eyes in the mirror after applying mascara

Olderbf!mike who almost never calls you by your actual name. He calls you all sorts of names like sweetheart, baby, princess, and his absolute favorite name to call you being pretty girl. so much so that he has it as your contact name on his phone. He used to be a little hesitant to call you any of these names in public but three months in any trace of hesitation was gone

Olderbf!mike who is incredibly overprotective at times. After the Garrett incident he can’t even fathom losing you too, if you go anywhere he’ll be right by your side. Nail appointment? Random shopping trip? Hair appointment? He’s right there trailing right behind you. If for whatever reason he can’t go with you, he bought you some pepper spray that you thought was a little excessive but he insisted on it because “you never know”

Olderbf!mike who secretly eats up the age gap between you two. Sure, when he found out your age he was a little hesitant about the whole thing but it certainly didn’t stop him. He still gets a little sheepish when you drag him out to hang out with your friends and he realizes the age difference really does affect some of your interests

Olderbf!mike who can’t help but sneak a glance up your skirt when you drop something and bend over to pick it up. He can never keep his eyes off you, especially when you wear low cut shirts. He thinks you don’t notice but you definitely do. You’re almost teasing him and using it to your advantage when you notice, wearing something a little provocative when you want a small favor from him

[ivysoul]

sub!mike who wakes you up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep as he ran out of his sleeping meds. his cock is hard and aching after he failed to get himself off. he didn’t want to wake you, but he needed you to help him out.

sub!mike who gets a little too shy to ask you, instead just opting to hump your ass and hope you get the hint, grateful when you do.

sub!mike who adorns a desperate look on his face as he squeezed at every bit off skin on your body that he could reach. mumbling soft pleas before you eventually rolled over and grabbed the bottle of lube in the bottom drawer of your nightstand.

sub!mike who whines pathetically when you finally started to sink down onto his cock. his death grip on your hips being enough to cause potential bruising on your plush skin.

sub!mike who can barely contain his moans as you bounced up and down. he looked you in your eyes the entire time, and if he wasn’t so pussy drunk, he’d tell you over and over that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever laid his eyes on.

sub!mike who has to have two of your fingers shoved in his mouth to suppress the noises he was making. “be a good boy and stay quiet for me, mike.” he failed every time.

sub!mike who stuffs you full of his cum, not worrying about the risks it carries or the consequences of what could come. he grabbed on to any bit of you that he could manage as his eyes rolled back and his brain borderline short circuited.

[curawrites]

Babysitter

Mike Schmidt x Fem! Babysitter! Reader

Warnings: porn with some plot, kind of pervy Mike, lewd fantasies, cursing, making out, making out, fingering, p in v sex, protected sex.

Note: I’ve just awoken from the worst writers block ever because of this man. I haven’t actually watched the movie tho. 💚

Mike stared intently at the fuzzy security screens. His vision blurred from how hard his eyes were focusing and darting from one screen to another.

He shuts his eyes for a second before reopening them, his vision now clear.

Fuck he hated this job.

He hated the long hours, hated having to work the night shifts, hated having to stare at the stupid screens for hours on end, hated being terrified every night by the stupid animatronics.

He wanted his shift to be over immediately.

When the clock hit 6am he lets out a sigh of relief. His shift was finally over. He got up from his seat and hastily grabbed his things before booking it to his car.

He’s never wanted to leave the dingy pizzeria more. All he could think about was getting home and passing out in his bed.

Abby would be fast asleep by now and you’d probably be passed out on the couch.

He was so thankful to have found such a wonderful babysitter. You clicked soo well with Abby and you put up with his ungodly work hours.

You’re amazing with Abby, always making sure she has fun when you’re over.

Wether it was making a fort in the living room and watching Disney movies together, or drawing all of your’s and Abby’s favourite characters, or baking cookies or even going out to the nearby park, Abby would always tell Mike how much fun she had.

You also have a particular knack in getting her to eat all of her dinner and getting her in bed.

Mike had no idea how you could do it and asked you how you did it. You weren’t exactly sure about how you get her to eat but you told him that to get her to bed on time you made sure to tuck her in with her favourite plushy before reading her a bedtime story and she was out like a light.

Unfortunately, your methods didn’t quite work when he tried them.

Mike wished he was more well off so he could pay you fairly, but he doubts that he could get you to accept any kind of payment.

He had payed you in the beginning, of course, but he got behind on his payments due to some financial difficulties. You eventually found this out and refused any sort of payment from then on.

He’s half convinced that you’re an angel sent from heaven. You’re so understanding towards his situation and after working for him for many months you became an essential person in his and Abby’s life.

It took Mike a long time to admit to himself that he had a strong attachment towards you and even longer to admit that he liked you.

He couldn’t deny or brush off his feelings when after one shift, he found himself thinking about how he couldn’t wait to come home to you.

It startled him, how he could feel this way towards you, but it felt right to admit.

Mike didn’t realize it before but now, everything you do makes his heart flutter and his cheeks redden.

Those sweet playful smiles you flash him when you banter makes his heart skip a beat.

Every time you touch his arm reassuringly, or give him a gentle rub on the back or a hug he always gets goose bumps from just having you so close to him.

He wants to hold you closer, and for longer, just to keep feeling the warmth of your body against him. To feel your soft tits press against his chest.

God did he feel like a pervert, but he just can’t help himself. He finds you so god damn sexy and gorgeous.

His dirty fantasies of you had his cock growing hard in no time. He swears you’re teasing him, especially when you bend over in your tight jeans or shorts.

He can’t help but stare at your ass and imagine himself grabbing your hips and pressing his hard cock against the swell of your ass.

Or when he can see your hard nipples threw your shirt, all he can think about is sucking them until they’re hard and leaving them wet with his spit.

Fuck its was wrong, so so wrong to think of you that way. You’re just Abby’s baby sitter, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop his thoughts from running wild.

Mike took a deep breath as he stopped at a red light. He couldn’t keep having these thoughts about you. Especially not on the road.

He finally makes it home and parks beside your car in the driveway.

He enters his house as quietly as he can and closes the front door with extra care as to not make a ruckus.

“Mike?” You call out from where you’re laying on the couch.

“I’m home, Y/n.” he says quietly as he takes his shoes off.

“How was your shift?” You asked as you sat up and stretched, groaning quietly.

Mike clenches his jaw, the way you groaned sounded so sinful, “Awful. Like usual.” He said plainly and takes his vest off and throws it on a spare chair.

“Are you hungry? There’s Shepard’s pie in the oven for you if you want to eat. I can make you a plate” You offered as you got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen.

He stares at you, taking in the tight little grey pj set you’re wearing, before stuttering out, “Th-thanks, you really didn’t have to-“

“Mike. I need to make sure you eat to. Not just Abby.” You said as you grab an oven mit before opening the oven door.

Mike watched as you bent over to grab the dish. He watches your tight grey shorts ride up the swell of your ass, he can see the outline of your pussy as the material stretches over your crotch.

Fuck he was getting hard.

“I’m worried about you, you know..” you sighed as you made him a plate, “I don’t think this job is good for you.” You said as you handed him the plate and a spoon.

He swallows thickly as you come closer to him, “It’s fine- I’m just glad to have a job.”

He grabs his plate and spoon and sits down at the table.

You shook your head before sitting down next to him. “You know I’m here for you okay?” You say while rubbing his back.

“I know.” He nods before taking another spoonful of his food.

“Good.” You smile and stare at him sweetly.

Mike blushes, why do you have to look at him like that?

Your smile turns into a slight smirk upon noticing his blush, “Are you blushing?” You teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“No-“ he looks at you wide eyed.

You giggle, “Are you embarrassed?”

“No its just-“ his gaze flickers between you and his food.

“Just what, Mikey?” You ask, resting your cheek on your fist.

He could feel his face getting hotter at the nick-name you just uttered, “Your just..” he trails off staring at his food, poking at it with his fork.

You stare at him expectantly.

He really wants to tell you how he feels, but he doesn’t want to ruin your what you have.

He shakes his head, “It’s nothing.. never mind.” He looks away shyly.

“You can tell me.” You rub his arm trying to persuade him to tell you what’s on his mind.

Mike sighs through his nose and shuts his eyes, trying to compose himself, “You should have left when I got here..” he says as he abruptly gets up from his seat.

You watched as he put his dishes in the sink, “Probably, but I need to make sure you’re taken care of.” You stand up.

“There’s no need. I can take care of myself.” He says curtly as he walks past you.

“Mike..” you grab his arm, turning him around. “You’re worrying me.. did I say something wrong?”

He felt his heart clench at the way you were looking at him.

“No you didn’t. It’s just a me problem, Y/n.” He looks off to the side as he shakes his head.

“Are you sure Mike? I’m sorry if I did. I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable-“ You start to ramble.

“Y/n. Hey, hey, hey. Im not mad at you okay?” He says sternly. “I’m just- I have feelings for you okay.” He painfully admits. “And I know it’s wrong but-“

“I have feelings for you too Mike..” You proclaim, a blush decorating your cheeks.

The two of you stare at each other for a few seconds before you lean in and kiss his lips.

You pull way quickly, “sorry..” you whisper.

Mike grabs your cheek to pull you into a passionate kiss.

You’re surprised by this. You didn’t expect Mike to go in for another kiss let alone one so desperate, but you kiss him back none the less.

You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer.

The hand on your cheek moves to rest with his other hand on your waist. His thumbs stroked small circles on your skin.

“Mike~” you whisper breathily and press your forehead against his.

He groans at the way you say his name. “Been wanting to do this for so long..~” he muttered before kissing you again.

“Mmm..me too~” You mumble against his lips.

He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth before going down to suck and kiss at your neck. He leaves a trail of hickeys all over your neck and collar bones.

You slip your hands under his hoodie, “Mikey?~”

He shivers when your hands touch his bare torso, “Mm~ yes baby?”

“Can we..go to your room?” You manage to ask as Mike starts to get more touchy, his hands just inches from getting under your shirt.

It took a moment for him to process what you had requested and where the two of you were before he replied, “Oh- yeah.. yeah.” He says a bit flustered before picking you up and bringing you to his bedroom.

He lays you down on his plaid comforter and crawls on top of you.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Y/n~” he whispers as he takes you in laying on his bed.

Mike leans down to kiss you again, but more feverishly.

You clawed at his hoodie, trying to take it off as you made out.

“Mike- take it off please~” you pleaded.

He nods and takes his hoodie and the shirt he had underneath off in one swoop, leaving himself topless above you.

You bit your lip as your eyes raked over his bare chest. He looks so sexy panting above you with a lustful look in his eyes.

You squeezed your thighs together to ease the throbbing of your cunt and tangle your hands in his curls to pull him back down for a kiss.

“Baby..~” he mutters as you kept kissing each other, “let me take your top off..~” he asked, holding onto your shirt.

You whined, you didn’t want to stop kissing him. “Mkay~” you nod and put your arms up to help him out.

Mike takes your shirt off with ease and doesn’t waste anytime to grope your tits.

You gasp softly when he kisses the soft mounds and begins to suck on your right nipple.

The way he swirls his tongue around the soft bud made you moan.

You slap your hand over your mouth as he gives the other one the same treatment.

He pulled away from your nipple with a wet pop and kisses you once again.

“Need you Mike~” you mewl, as you grip his shoulder.

“Yeah?~” he said quietly.

You nod and try to push his pants down with you feet.

He pries your legs away from his hips and pulls your gray shorts off.

You let your legs fall open, completely revealing yourself to Mike.

His jaw drops at the sight of your glistening pussy. His cock couldn’t possibly get any harder.

“Fuck..~” he curses, “You have such a pretty pussy~” he licks his lips.

You blush and squirm a bit. You felt so vulnerable under his gaze.

“I need you Mike~” you reiterated desperately.

“I need you too baby.. so so fucking bad-“ he says as he fumbles with his belt.

He hastily takes his pants off and grabs his wallet out on the front pocket.

You watched as he rummaged through his wallet until he pulls out a condom.

He throws his wallet and pants to the side before ripping the foil open.

You quietly fingered yourself as you watched Mike roll the rubber onto his hard cock.

You took your fingers out of your cunt and reached forward to give Mike’s cock a few pumps using your slick as lube.

He groans, “Fuck baby.. that feels good..~” and smashes his lips against yours.

You wrap your arms around his back and your legs around his hips, “C’mon Mike~ I need you inside~” you whispered.

His dick twitched at your words. He lines the head of his cock to your slick entrance and pushes it inside.

“Oh.. fu-..Y/n~” Mike groans.

Your pussy is so warm and wet. It had been so long since he last had sex, he had to stop himself from cumming right away.

“Y/n you feel so good~” he mutters as he began to thrust into you.

You moan and tighten the hold your legs had on his hips, pulling him closer into your warmth.

Mike couldn’t stop himself from whining in pleasure as he thrusted faster into you.

“Gotta be quiet Mikey~” you whispered, pulling him into a kiss to quiet your noises.

He groans into your mouth and busies his hands by toying with your nipples.

“Keep.. doing that please~” you moaned quietly.

The way his thrusts were angled allowed his pubic bone to rut against your clit, and the head of his cock to repeatedly press against your g-spot.

You clawed at his back, trying to hold onto him while bliss over took you.

“Mikey!~ Mike!~ M’gonna cum!” You moan.

“Gonna.. cum too baby..~” he huffs, and reaches down to rub your clit.

“Oh fuck~ m’cumming!” You cry out.

Mike lifts his head out the crook of your neck to look at you while you came.

The mix of your blissed out face and the fluttering of your cunt pushes him to climax.

He moans as he cums, whimpering your name quietly as he fills the condom with his seed.

It takes a while before Mike pushes himself off of you to pull out. You whined in protest, you felt so empty without his cock inside of you.

He takes the condom off and disposes of it in his bathroom.

When he returns, you both get under the covers of his bed, and cuddle in your post-sex bliss.

You’re stroking his messy curls as you’re both falling asleep, when suddenly you’re rudely interrupted by Mike’s alarm.

His alarm to wake up to get Abby ready for school.

The end

[lovelykhaleesiii]

dark!mike with vanessa sister…

perhaps she’s a police officer (or cop whatever people call them) like her sister or vanessa just brings her along.

Vanessa gets a call about a break in somewhere else and leaves her sister with mike at the pizzeria, one thing leads to another and mike her up against the desk.

(not the best at trying to explain stuff, sorry!!)

Good Cop, Bad Cop

PAIRING: Dark!Mike Schmidt x fem!Afton!Reader

WORDS: 2,352.

WARNINGS: swearing, p in v sexual intercourse, breast play, degradation kink, slight praise kink, dark!Mike, possessive qualities. Mike being a tease.

A/N - thank you for sending this request in! hope I did it justice x please feel free to leave a comment / reblog :)

It was nothing out of the ordinary, being paired with your elder sister, Vanessa, tagging along her side during the night shifts. If you were being quite honest with yourself, you had suspected it. Besides, she was your senior, a colleague, as you were just a fresh, new recruit in the local police department. To break the ice, your sheriff thought it best to pair you two together, nonetheless.

"Just need to make a quick stop-"

As the alluring neon red and blue lights flickered off from the reflection of the dark, stained glass, your curious eyes wandered towards the desolate, outdated building before you. From the sheer glimpse of the ruined exterior, an uneasy sensation, some hesitation to even leave the vehicle began to churn in the pit of your stomach. This place did not look welcoming by the least, despite the shattered fragments of cartoonish figures decorated on its exterior: most likely an attempt to appeal to the children of previous generations.

"Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria?" You confounded, naturally feeling the puzzling flex of your brows furrowing with confusion, as you turned to face your elder sister in the driver's seat.

"Just need to make a quick round, Mike here is the new security guard... This place is known for vandals and criminal activity. And he's only one person."

With the swift mention of his name, Vanessa's head instinctively nudged towards the direction of the older, rugged looking brunette, who stood by the locked entrance of the neglected complex. Eerily as if he had heard the mention of his name, even with the substantial distance apart, his head flicked upwards as means of a wordless "hello."

His features felt unthreatening, strewed with a tinge of exhaustion, as you noticed the dark circles that saturated beneath his eyes. Regardless, you could not deny, he was quite pleasing to look at, a handsome face nonetheless: it was a shame he spent his nights hidden away in some remote corner of town, and his days asleep.

"Glad to see you made it through another night. Just wanted to make sure you hadn't run into trouble already. This is my sister, by the way, and our new rookie, Y/N-"

"Dragged you along, did she now?" Mike remarked, and although you surmised it was his attempt to kid, his tone remained monotoned, except for the subtle, sly smirk across his face, as he assertively leaned his hands over to shake your own. His grip was strong against your own, his hand larger in size, swallowing your own, his texture rough. His lingering eyes had been fixated on you since you came into his vision: catching fleeting yet blatant glances, he showed no shame when you had caught him those few instances. A sudden, flustering wave of heat flashed across your face, feeling your cheeks turn shamefully scarlet. Even disguised in your uniform, declaring such authority, you felt bashfully meek in his presence, rather a school girl than a cop.

As Vanessa's familiar voice echoed in the background, your attention panned to the vacant, decaying building. It felt somewhat eerily familiar, a faint memory you could scamper in your mind in the distance and yet nothing jolted a clear vision.

The abrupt static whirring of the radio from the vehicle had snapped you back to reality: immediately she excused herself as she scattered off, leaving you to bask with Mike.

"S-So you've only just started as security... Here?" You softly stutter, intent on maintaining direct eye contact with Mike in reciprocation, even though it felt conflicting against your meek nature. Despite the practical training and experience dealing with delinquents, this vulnerability was a first. He seemed timid yet unnerving simultaneously: you felt uncertain whether he was simply just a quiet, introverted man or if he truly intended to disguise and deceit himself as one.

"No-No, I've been here for a month now, your sister just likes to make her rounds. Think she's still uncertain about me, but I don’t blame her."

His response ignited a satisfying wave of relief: as you leaned towards the hurtful notion that he would ignore you. The huskiness in his low voice almost made it feel as though he was sleep talking, only loud enough for you to hear.

"Just a curious thing though, your uh- sister. She's never mentioned you before...W-Why's that?" He uttered, as his brows frowned in sync with his words, a bemused look tinged across his face, as he patiently awaited your answer.

"W-Well V's always been private about her personal life. Since I could remember, sh-she's always been this particular way. Just her innate nature, I s'pose," Defeatedly sighing garnishing your final words, with an indefinite shrug, before glancing back at Vanessa, caught in her own world.

"Well, your sister took no time trusting me... But you- You are the undetected anomaly in her story. There must be a reason..."

Vanessa had abruptly left in the company of a man you had just met.. Having hastily returned from the radio call, from a fellow colleague requesting for her senior presence as backup, she was bound to follow. She had insisted you remain with Mike as he settled for the night, whether he approved of it or not however, you could not say with certainty. He remained silent and sullen, as you both carefully watched your elder sister driving off into the nightly distance, the glaring neon blue and red lights flashing in the distance.

Mike had led you in, gesturing you to enter first as a gentleman would, before shutting the entrance close once more. Thankfully, he had broken the awkward silence, excusing himself momentarily to boost the electricity, only to give you a brief tour of the premises before guiding you into the security office, where the blank monitor screens echoed your reflection.

"So you really just sit here the entire night? And watch the screens?" You intrigued, feeling the natural flex of your brows furrowing, as you fiddled with the papers and dusty stationary on the desktop. A part of you, unable to fathom that a job like this would exist in such a deserted place like this.

"A job is a job for me. At that point, I was willing to take anything they offered." The monotone level of his voice was unwavering, deep, his tiresome eyes remained fixated on you though, as you remained unwilling to return the favour.

"I suppose so, don't you get lonely all by yourself though? Nothing to make the time go by-"

With no spatial awareness, you hadn't even realised how close Mike had slowly crept towards you. Closing off the distance inch by inch, before he assertively strode towards you. The unfamiliar sensation of his arm snaking around your waist, was what had caught your deficient attention, as he plunged his lips against your own in a passionate kiss. And although your eyes had widened in bewilderment, your body froze like an ancient statue in the initial seconds, as your mind raced to comprehend. As he lingered on, pursuing the kiss, your tense muscles easing, you felt no obligation to shove Mike off. No urge to decline his advance, it felt destined, relaxed into his embrace.

"W-What was that about?" You breathlessly stuttered: not wanting to decline Mike nor give the impression that you had disapproved. Despite only having met the man an hour ago, he made you feel helpless, like some schoolgirl with a pathetic, little crush that devoured her from the inside out.

Was it truly the boredom of the night that had consumed his rational mind, to do something that seemed quite extraordinary for him?

"You don't think I didn't notice you blushing outside? How nervous I made you? You don't think I would take advantage of a pretty girl like you gushing on me, huh?

His soft lips once more made contact with you, although this time exploring the sensitive crook of your nick: eagerly sucking at your tender skin.

"M-Mike we sh-shouldn't, I-I'm an off-"

"Nah-Nah, baby... You're going to be my fuck toy tonight. My little, pretty whore to keep me company. That's what you really want to be, right?"

His gentle kisses in between the suckling of your skin was bewitching enough to send your mind into an abyss. You knew this was wrong, you knew that if Vanessa found out, if your department found out, it would stain your career, or worse. And yet, your body said otherwise, disintegrating into Mike's lustful appetite.

"I-I sh-shouldn't."

*tut tut* "You know you want to, baby... Why deny it? I didn't think there were any pretty girls worth it left in this fucking hell hole... You think I'm going to pass it up?-"

With his words, Mike had swiftly lifted you momentarily, nesting himself between your spread legs as you sat atop the desk. One of his rough, calloused hands remained pinning your hips, whilst the other snaked its way smoothly beneath your uniform, firmly cupping and kneading at your breast.

"No-No... I've already put up with enough, I deserve something special. M'gonna fuck you so good, I'll have you forgetting you even were on the job."

"Y-Yes" You pathetically whimper, your hands instinctively wandering over Mike's body, itching to feel his bare skin against your palms. You manage to sneak your arms beneath his shirt, feeling the thickness of his flexing muscles beneath his moving body, as you grip at his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh.

"Look at you, princess, already so needy for me. You desperate for my cock, huh? What happened to the talking stage?" He lowly teases, a smirk spewed across his face, as you feel its curvature press against your skin, his low chuckle in harmony to your mindless whimpers and moans.

"L-Later- I-I want you now, M-Mike."

"That's my girl," His deep growls vibrating against your tender, cool skin. You hadn't even realised how swift and slick Mike was, unclasping your bra, as he began to unbutton your polo shirt, before undoing your pants. Returning the favour, with much haste and eagerness, you began to unbuckle Mike's worn out belt, as you undid his jeans.

"Easy, baby, easy- What would they think of you back at the station? The police department's little slut... My pretty, little slut."

For a few split seconds, Mike ogled at your lace panties, savouring the sight before pulling them down to expose your bare, wet cunt. Noticing how his eyes lit for the first time since meeting, an ecstasy glistened in his dark orbs, as he licked his lips with desire.

"I'm gonna have you at my beckon call from now. Spoil me with your services."

Mike pulled his body apart from yours, the heat exuding, as both your bodies felt flushed and moistened with sweat: panting as you caught your breath. Mike naturally pulled his underpants down, exposing his rigid, girthy cock: just above average length, although the sheer size was mouthwatering. His tip reddened, with a few veins protruding with anticipation.

"Look-Look at what you've done to me, Y/N..."

Without a moment to spare, as Mike once again closed the faint distance between: his throbbing cock teasingly brushed against your sensitive folds, before plunging himself in. The lightning, raw pain was exhilarating, as you felt your walls stretching beyond relief to accomodate for Mike's bulky mass. His steady pace was sloppy, as his thrusts would quicken with each pump, pummelling your body further into the desk. If you hadn't been clinging to his back dearly, nails drilling into his skin [you were certain evidence of reddened, defined marks would show] that you'd knock of a monitor or two.

"F-Fuck you feel s-so good. So tight for me, baby. Th-This was meant to be. M-Meant for me."

Endless curses and swears escaped from Mike's mouth, in sync to your moans of his name. Each time his name left your mouth, his thrust grew more vigorous, igniting something animalistic in him.

With each sloppy, hasten pace and forcible thrust, Mike had finally reached his peak, shooting his hot, thick seed inside of you, drenching your insides. Your stretched, tight walls coated now, some seed spilling through the gaps onto your inner thighs, once again was a gesture that made Mike pleased. Pleased with himself, more so.

Inevitably, this ignited the same peak, as your wetness pooled over his cock, still buried and throbbing inside of you.

"F-Fuck Y/N... Th-That was s'fucking good."

After having regained your senses and thoughts, you'd managed to clean yourself up, Mike humbly passing you a spare cloth or two from the cleaning storage. He remained by your side, intently watching you from a shy distance, interjecting just once to make certain you were okay. As you finished, he exhaustedly sat himself down on the desk chair, rubbing his palms against his thick, sprawled thighs.

"You make sure it's you visiting me from now, baby. Your sister talks too much for my liking... And she's not as pretty to look at as you."

Despite the familiar, bashful feeling Mike made you feel, as foolish as butterflies in your stomach, you felt somewhat used, and dejected.

"I-I'm not some girl you can just sleep around with Mike. I have morals, and I have a respectable job... You can't just use me like-"

"I don't want to use you, Y/N... I-I want to make you mine, the fucking is just an ugh-added bonus."

Sighing in defeat, although Mike's sly smirk was a devious looking one, his eyes however remained unchanged and stern. In the pit of your stomach, your instincts told you there was truth to his words.

Just as you were about to fathom a response, the sudden, screeching ringing sound of an outdated buzzer blared through the speaker. Mike leapt over towards the monitors, deciphering a button or two, before multiple screens lit up with the perspective of some camera in a corner. On one screen the familiar, blonde hair of your sister shot through, before her face turned towards the camera.

"Our time's up, princess. I'll see you later, okay?"

credit for dividers - @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒

ㅤㅤghostface!mike schmidt x afton daughter!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, dark content, ghostface au

word count: 4.5k

summary: how were you supposed to know one of your closest friends was also the one in desperate need for revenge?

warnings: dubcon (this can also be considered noncon to some since there's the fear of death in place so if that's not your thing please don't read), knife use, manipulation, voyeurism but no one actually sees, daddy kink, piv, blowjob, nonconsensual somnophilia, male masturbation, reader doesn't know what william did, dirty talking, creampie

a/n: a day late but happy thanksgiving everyone 🖤 i am thankful for my josh hutcherson phase (normally I was going to post this yesterday but oh well you get it)

**dividers made by @saradika xx

How long has it been since you came here? How long has it been since you witnessed the clean beige exterior that now looked more suffocating than liberating? 

You observe the dust over the picture frames as you drop the suitcases, the sudden release of weight making your back bend back like a bow. You stare for a while. Your dad had bought this particular vacation home ages ago. Ironically he had done it so the family could spend some quality time together over the summers. That was before the incident. Before your mom left, only leaving you and him. 

Now the dirt outside was muddy from the pouring rain. Leaves turning to mush under the pressure of tires and boots. You hear the faint sound of the car door closing. Moments later Mike stands behind you. You can feel his breath tickling the back of your neck. It soothes you. 

“So this is the famous summer house huh?” he looks around, not bothering to close the door behind him, he takes a step further. “God, it’s cold in here. Please tell me there’s a heater somewhere.” 

“Probably in the basement. Remind you this place wasn’t meant for winter.” 

“Yeah I can see that from the windows,” he turns and finally closes the door. “It’s a bit eerie that anyone might just watch us from down there.” 

You scoff, “Who’s gonna watch? This house is the only one. Besides it’s just a couple days.” 

Your dad was finally selling the place. Meaning you had limited time to pack the things you wanted to keep before the rest was torn out. You knew packing all the old pictures would be overwhelming so you asked Mike to join and he was more than eager to help out—which was a bit surprising but you were grateful nonetheless. He was always kind to you. Always so gentle. He made your heart jump whenever he looked into your eyes, observing, searching them for something more. You never knew what he was searching for. 

Mike walks ahead with just his backpack, he’s wearing all black: black hoodie, black pants, black jacket. . . he’s completely contrasting his surroundings. He turns to you with rounded eyes and you melt a little. 

“So where am I staying?” 

“Let me show you,” It’s odd being in the halls again, you remember them feeling endless when you were a kid. The floor underneath you creaks. “Luckily we have a bunch of rooms. I don’t know what my parents were thinking, it’s not like we entertained a lot of guests.” 

“Well, it worked out in the end. Now I have a place to say.” 

“Silver lining,” you agree, showing his room. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to head to bed and we can brainstorm where to start in the morning.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he steps inside the room and you can’t help but be reminded of how out of place he looks. “Good night.” 

“Good night, Mike.” 

He stands at the door with furrowed brows and downturned lips. Not that it’s important what his expression is. It’s not like anyone can see it underneath his mask. The mask that he’d bought last second. It is now or never. And this is his chance to avenge his brother, his broken family. This is the solution to all of it. 

It doesn’t help that you’re soundly sleeping. Your lips slightly parted, more skin showing with each rise and fall of your chest. Mike takes a step further inside. The wind howls against the naked windows. Yet, your room managed to stay warm. You turn around to lay on your back and he sees you parting your legs underneath the comforter. His cock grows hard at the sight, he’d love to take you right now. Fuck you until you gasp awake, your sweet cunt dripping with arousal—you’d tell him to stop, not recognizing who he is and he’d go on until you’re creaming around him. Your body becoming sweaty and warm. 

Mike licks his lips and rubs a palm over the outline of his cock. His eyes search your room. You hadn’t unpacked yet. Your suitcase open with clothes pouring out the edges. You probably just picked that flimsy shirt you were wearing and headed to bed. He slowly walks to the pile of clothes, within, he finds a pair of black lace underwear. Mike picks it up. A gloved thumb follows the patterns of delicate flowers. His lips curl upward, just what you were planning on doing with him here? In your old family home where it’s just the two of you?

He stands at the edge of your bed. He’s amazed at how much he can get away with without waking you. It’s amazing how much you trust him without a second thought. 

Too bad he doesn’t trust you. 

With your panties, he fists his cock, the fabric catches against the head prompting the jerk of his hips. He strokes himself fast and hard. Precome seeping into the delicate fabric. His eyes are glued to your lips, the pacing of your breath, your body that’s sprawled underneath the sheets. His cock twitches. Balls tightening as he imagines the sounds you would make for him with a knife against your throat and him deep inside your cunt. 

The smallest of groans manage to escape him as he spills into his fist and the fabric, thick ropes of come staining your panties, he inches closer. Hips stuttering helplessly while wishing to see himself dirty your pretty parted lips. He knows he will soon enough. He sees the way you look at him, how desperate you are for affection and a sense of belonging. Mike enjoys the sense of control he has over you. It makes it all that much more sweeter. 

He’ll take you. Break you. And pull you back together again. 

He’ll ruin William Afton’s precious little girl. 

You’re blessed with a little bit of sun today. Bits of dust sway in the air, boxes upon boxes standing around you and Mike. Two empty coffee cups lay idly on the floor. You slept like a baby last night, which was something you hadn’t expected, yet when you woke up you felt a bit off. Your door was open for starters. And you definitely remember closing it. Mike had just shrugged it off, saying that you were tired and probably forgot. 

Which is likely, now that you think about it. 

Mike picks up one of the framed photos of you and your dad. Despite the sunlight filling the living room, a chill settles over your skin. He observes the photo longer than necessary. Then he traces the engraved name underneath the picture. 

“Afton,” he murmurs. “I keep forgetting you’re an Afton.” 

He doesn’t let go of the picture as his eyes meet yours, you don’t like the look in them. He almost seems angry. 

“What does it matter?” you say in a sheer tone. “It’s not like it means anything whether I’m an Afton or not.” 

“I’d beg the differ. And I know some other people would too.” 

Mike places the photo in a box, eyes dropping to the floor. Heat rises to your cheeks. You’re confused. Very confused. “Are talking about Freddy Fazbear’s? You know I don’t like talking about that Mike.” 

“No need to get defensive. I’m just saying that your surname isn’t nothing,” he gives you a small smile but it does little to calm your nerves. “You were never suspicious of him?” 

“Of what?” 

He gives you a blank stare, “Of the murders.” 

Your mouth opens and very promptly snaps shut. Mike was never interested in this before. He hadn’t even asked about it, not once. Your shoulders drop and your heart feels heavy in your chest—Were you ever suspicious of him? Of your own father? To be fair you never thought about it. You shut your eyes and plugged your ears. You never wanted to think about that wretched pizzeria and all the things that happened in it. 

Your stomach jumps when he reaches out, curling his palm over the slope of your knee. You release a long breath. 

“Sorry for bringing it up,” he says, his eyes now soft. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

“That’s okay.” It wasn’t. You get up, feeling the weight of his gaze as you do. “Alright, I think I’m gonna take a brisk shower then we can make pasta or something.” 

“I can start on that,” he answers. “Pesto or marinara?” 

“You can pick. I’m fine with either.” 

He nods and you leave before he stands. You feel icky all over. The dust and the sudden reality check about your father’s pizzeria and his role in all that had happened make you desperate to scrub yourself clean. 

You swiftly enter the bathroom, shutting the door behind you, giving it a hard shove until you hear the satisfying click. The inside smells of lavender. 

You strip and throw your clothes into the washing machine. The water warms up easily when you step inside. You draw the curtain shut and sigh at the clean water caressing your skin. Warm showers are the solution to everything. Even daddy issues. You begin to wash your hair, a soft moan dropping from your lips as you massage your scalp. The water trickles down your neck and between your breasts. With soapy hands, you give yourself a firm squeeze and graze your thumbs over the pebbled nipples. 

“That’s nice,” you sigh, hands moving up to rinse your hair. Maybe after the shower you can lay down and treat yourself until lunch is ready. Your vibrator’s fully charged, and the prospect of Mike hearing the faint buzz of it makes your pussy throb. 

Just as you reach for the loofah a soft click echoes in the steamy room. 

Your body tenses. Your heart suddenly beating a mile a minute. 

Your eyes turn in the direction of the door but you can’t see well with the curtain. All you see is the blurry darkness of the hall thanks to the open entrance. “Mike?” you call out, voice trembling. “If that’s you it’s not funny.” 

Of course, it’s not him. Even from here, you can smell the pasta sauce. Pesto. You desperately search for any kind of weapon you can use but all you see are shampoo bottles and the loofah you’re currently holding. You swallow. Turning back to the curtain, you see a faint shadow. It tilts its head. 

You need to attack. Need to do something before they do. How did they even get in here? 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. 

But you’re frozen with fear as the stranger curls their fingers around the shower curtain. The rest happens suddenly. The curtain is ripped open and you see who it is—Mostly. You see the mask, two pitch-black eyes staring back at you. Instead of screaming you jump away, the porcelain slips from underneath you, you fall and as soon as you do, you’re swallowed by darkness. 

Your eyes flutter open. There’s a sharp sting against your forehead. 

“Thank god you’re awake.” 

“M—Mike?” 

Your vision stops shaking and you finally see him. Mike, and his two soft brown eyes staring down at you. He’s holding a ball of cotton, the white stained by a bit of red. “What. . .” You attempt to get up but quickly forgo your decision when your head throbs. Mike clicks his tongue and presses the cotton to your head, your eyes tear up as it stings, but it slightly subsides seconds later. Looking down, you notice a towel was thrown over you. 

“I should be asking you that, how the hell did you slip?” 

“I. . . I didn’t.” 

“What do you mean you didn’t?” 

“There. . there was someone in the shower,” Your blood freezes as you remember. “He. . .I think it was a he? He was wearing a mask and he opened the curtain and fuck—I was so scared Mike.” 

Your arms move on their own and wrap around his neck, pulling him close. It takes him only a second to mimic your movement, wrapping his arms around your cold shivering body. His fingers trace your spine. A pleasant shiver runs up your back. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now,” he murmurs. “But. . . the door was closed.” 

What? “What?” You shake your head as you pull away from him, ignoring the towel slightly sliding lower. “There’s no way. How did you see me then?” 

“Well, I shouted for you but you didn’t respond. Then I knocked and you didn’t respond again. The door wasn’t locked so I let myself in.” 

“And you found me unconscious? No one was here?” 

“Only you.” 

You shudder. That’s absolutely terrifying. 

“Come on let’s. . .” he swallows and you notice his eyes lingering where your towel has fallen. The swell of your breasts exposed. Looking away, you pull the fabric up and properly wrap it around yourself. His eyes move up to meet your gaze. “Let’s get you dressed and then we can eat.” 

Your last night here. Finally. 

After the unfortunate fall in the shower, you never managed to shake the feeling of being watched in your own house. You didn’t say anything to Mike but you knew he saw how freaked out you were from your eyes, by the way you would jump at every sound. Every time you closed your eyes you saw the stranger’s mask—those damn black sockets and open mouth staring back at you. It didn’t help that every morning you found your door wide open. You could’ve sworn that you closed it. But without fail, the door was open in the morning. 

And you’re so grateful to be done with it all. 

Stacks of boxes stand tall near the door. You were adamant about having everything ready tonight so that as soon as the sun peaked through the two of you could leave. Which was why you had ordered Mike to pack his suitcase— you’re doing the same, folding clothes with shaky hands and hoping the morning would come faster. 

Throwing your shirt into the suitcase your brows furrow, “What the hell?” you murmur as you lower yourself to your knees. The drawers and closet are emptied out, so why the hell do you only have three pairs of underwear? 

Sweat beads at your forehead. With panic, you rummage through the neatly folded clothes. You don’t care about the mess or the fact that you’ll have to fold them again—why can’t you find the other pairs? 

You’re completely defeated as your entire body deflates. Just three. You remember packing ten. They’re gone. All gone. Stolen. 

Your heart lurches and you feel it beating in your throat. You want to leave. You want to leave. You want to leave. 

The phone rings. 

It’s loud and booming. Your eyes shot towards the hallway. It’s the landline. A phone that hadn’t been used for god knows how long. You weren’t even aware that it was still connected. 

You blink rapidly, forcing the sting of tears to fade. You stand on shaky legs as you head towards the phone in the living room. You vaguely hear Mike mumbling a melody that’s familiar but also not at the same time. 

You stare at your reflection in the widows as you pick up the phone. Normally you’d appreciate the view. The dark sky, the swaying pine trees. But not today. 

You clear your throat, “H—Hello?” 

You hear a faint static, a low internal breathing, then the silence talks back, saying your name. You shudder at the rasp in his voice, fear weighing you down and gluing you to the floor. “Who is this?” you ask. 

“You know who I am,” he murmurs and takes a deep inhale. “We’ve met before remember? That moment in the bathroom.” Your body freezes all over, he chuckles, then speaks as if reminiscing a fond memory. “You looked so amazing. Nipples hard, body wet. Were you touching yourself?” 

You remain silent, eyes glued to the hall that is lit by Mike’s room. You want to call out. You really do. But you’re terrified. 

“Was it him you were thinking about?” 

“That’s. . .” you swallow. “That’s none of your business.” 

“Everything you do is my business,” he snaps but then the harsh baritone of his voice quickly softens. “Fine. Don’t. I know the answer anyway.” 

“What do you want?” 

“I want the truth, Miss Afton.” Your breath catches, your knees begin to shake. “Just answer my question and maybe you won’t die.” 

You remain silent and you hear the smile in his voice, “Good girl. Now, do you know your father is a murderous piece of trash? Yes or no?” 

You close your eyes, shake your head, you can’t answer. “Fine,” he huffs. “Do you think you deserve to live?” 

“I. . .” Your mouth goes dry and your fingers tighten around the phone. “I do.” 

Honestly, you’re not sure if you believe that. 

“Oh, I’m sorry but that’s just not correct,” he answers with a melodic lilt. “You don’t deserve anything. Why should your life matter more than the other kids that were killed by your father?” 

“It shouldn’t.” 

Your voice barely comes out in a whisper now. Your eyes drop to the floor, maybe if you run and get to Mike in time you can save you both? 

“Is your dad a killer yes or no?” then he adds. “You better answer correctly this time.” 

“I don’t know,” you say this time, he clicks his tongue in annoyance. 

“Wrong.” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath you open them again. All you see is your reflection. “I’ve been watching you,” he says. “You sleep like a log. I watched you. Fucked my fist while you were sleeping soundly, dreaming of sunshine and rainbows,” he sighs. “Or whatever the fuck girls like you dream about.”

You’re appalled by the sudden gush of wetness that courses through you. You shake your head, trying to push the images away. “Please don’t do this,” you beg. 

He stops speaking for a good while, for a second you think he hung up, but then you hear his breath in your ear and know that he’s still there. “I keep forgetting.” 

“Forgetting what?” 

“That you’re an Afton.” 

Your heart drops to the pits of your stomach. Every fiber of skin burning and tingling with the realization. You’ve heard those words before. You’ve heard the hidden accusation in them. Your ear burns from the phone pressed against it, you press it harder, not wanting to miss a second of dialogue. Your lips brush against the plastic as you do. 

“Mike?”

The line goes dead. Silent. And you realize you preferred words coming from the other line. Tortorously slow, as if in a dream, you place the phone back in its cradle. You feel him before you see him. Your head turns. You feel every muscle pulling as you do. 

And there he is. 

The man with the mask. 

“Mike?” you say again with less conviction. He tilts his head, not moving, not saying anything. Your body stiffens and your eyes drop to his hands where you see the sharp edge of a knife. You drag your gaze back to the mask, hoping that you’re staring into his eyes, “Why?” 

He takes a step forward and you take a step back. You’re inches away from the wide windows. “I had a brother,” he says, you’re surprised to find yourself relaxing upon hearing his voice. “I’ve tracked down the suspects. Looked at similar cases for years. Every bit of information leads to Afton.” 

“I had nothing to do with it.” 

Another step. The glass is cool underneath your palms. 

“You father did,” he answers. He stands only an inch away now, your stomach jumps when he presses the sharp edge of the knife against your neck. You hold your breath. “The day he took him is the day I lost everything. My family shattered. All because of him. And now. . .” Mike presses the knife harder, a hint of pain blossoming from where he’d cut. Your eyes snap shut. “Now I’ll take his little girl. Eye for an eye.” 

“Mike, please,” you whisper. Then you say something that surprises you both. “Take off the mask. If I’m going to die, I want to see you.” 

He tenses but obliges anyway. The mask falls to the floor, his hair mussed, soft curls fall over his forehead. A bit of stubble on his chin from not shaving at all since you two arrived. He doesn’t look scary, not at all. He looks vengeful, yes, but the softness in his eyes is still there. 

“What are you going to do to me?” 

Mike’s nostrils flare as he inhales, he exhales through parts lips, you feel his warm breath on your skin. “I’m going to ruin you.” The knife is replaced with his hand, he squeezes your throat, pulls you away from the glass, and slams you into it. “You’re mine now. I own you.” 

You shudder as he lets you go, his hands fumble with his jeans, and the fabric pools at his ankles. “Get on your knees and suck daddy’s cock.” 

You stare at him, wide-eyed but do as you’re told anyway. You drop to your knees. His cock achingly hard in front of you. He holds himself and drags the wet tip across your lips. He slides the underside of his cock against your face and without thought you dart your tongue out, tasting him. Mike groans, the sound rattling in his chest. With no warning given, he slips his cock between your lips and stops halfway. Your eyes water at how thick he is. 

When you look up you see he’s holding his phone, camera directed at you with his cock in your mouth. “Sorry,” he says with a faint smirk. “I need a souvenir to remember how good you look with my cock in your mouth. Who knew Afton’s precious daughter was such a slut.” 

Your eyes flutter as he shoves the phone back into his jacket pocket. He cradles your head and starts fucking himself deep into your mouth. “You know,” he rasps. Mike pushes himself especially deep and smiles broadly when you choke around him. “You really should be thanking me for not slitting your throat during all the nights I watched you.” 

He suddenly stops and pulls out until it’s only the head between your lips. His cock throbs on your tongue, he forces your gaze up to him, “Thank me for not slitting your throat.” 

“Thank—” It’s hard to speak with him still between your lips. You swallow and try again, your nipples tight. “Thank you for not slitting my throat.” 

“Such an obedient girl,” he muses. “I’m going to fuck you in every corner of this house. Get up—” 

He says that but lifts you himself, impatient, he presses you against the window, your cheek smushed against the clear surface. Your neck strains a little. His breath caresses the back of your neck, his lips on your ear, “Time to pay for your father’s sins.”

Mike lifts your shirt and pulls down your sweats. His cock lays heavy above the small of your back. Warm and wet. You clench as he pushes you forward, your breasts fully pressed against the glass. He kicks your legs apart, holding your arms back, Mike slips inside you with ease. Your breath halts in your throat. You only feel pleasure. You drip down his length, and with a groan, he buries himself to the hilt. 

“I knew you’d been waiting for this,” he groans. “So fucking wet—” 

“M—Mike—” 

He clicks his tongue and cocks his head to the side, his forehead brushing against the back of your head. “Not Mike.” 

“Daddy,” you moan as he pulls out and slams back in. You choke. “Daddy—” 

Mike fucks into your harder, the sound of skin against skin echoes in the room, wet squelches following. Your knees shake as you find yourself completely immobile against the glass. His fingers curl around your neck and he yanks your head back, hips relentless. 

“Look at that, anyone could see you now. I wish we had an audience.” Your cunt squeezes him like a vice, his hips stutter forward, a sharp moan rattling in his throat. He laughs. “Does that turn you on?” Helpless, you nod. “That’s it, take it. Daddy’s whore.” 

“Kiss me—please—” 

The plea takes him by surprise, he stops, hand tensing around your neck, you feel the pulse of his cock deep inside you. He drags his hips down your neck and teases you with his teeth. Goosebumps rise over your skin. And finally—finally—those perfect plush lips meet your own. It’s cruel really. The red strings of fate that tie you two together. You’re still not sure what to make of it all. Or of him. But you surrender. You surrender to his mouth and tongue. Mike swallows you whole. His tongue moves lavishly over yours, sliding and sucking as he presses harder inside you. 

“Gonna come inside,” he breathes into your mouth. His hand drops between your legs, your body shaking as he draws tight circles around your clit. 

Mike’s lips meet your throat, gentle then ravenous, making their way to the blankets of your clavicle, scraping the delicate skin. You arch against him, pleasure building, craving more. He thrusts harder, deeper, the pleasure increasing with each movement. His fingers grab your hips, and you can feel yourself tightening around him, his cock slamming against your core inside of you. Obscene sounds come from where he’s playing with your clit. You feel like a rag doll. And soon the coil snaps, you’re falling. 

Your entire body goes tense, his name leaving your lips in an urgent plea as the pleasure overtakes you. You shake and tremble, Mike continues to hammer into you, hand leaving your core and bracing itself near your head. Briefly, you manage to look outside. See the darkness that looms over the forest. Then you notice his reflection in the glass, eyes meeting yours. 

He smiles. 

Mike moans loudly, lips parting, his hips stutter over and over, spilling himself inside. Your eyes roll back, a whimper falling from your mouth as you take all of it. He holds himself there until his come starts to drip from where he stretches you. Your forehead finds purchase on the glass. Cold and soothing. His lips brush the back of your neck. 

“You look so tired already but we’re not done yet,” he parts your lips with his fingers and pushes them inside. Teary, you find his eyes in the reflection once more. He’s pleased. “I was serious in what I said, Miss Afton. I own you, now.” 

“Mike. . .” 

“And no matter where you run off to,” he murmurs, cutting you off. A hint of annoyance in using his name.  “I’ll always come back.”

[starxxkitty]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚

Movie Nights

Mike Schmidt X Fem!Reader✧˖°.

☆ Synopsis: It's been an exhausting day and Mike finally gets a chance to unwind with you, planning to watch a movie. But the screen is the last thing he can focus on.

☆ Word Count: 1.5k

☆ Warnings: NSFW, swearing, oral (f receiving), fingering, soft smut, No use of y/n

☆ A/N: This was really fun to make, and writer's block is finally leaving me alone!!૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ﾟ.

You snapped out of your hazy state as the door clicked, looking at the clock 

11:23 pm.

Mike sluggishly set his stuff down, taking tired steps from the late night. It was one of those fortunate days off for him, yet he insisted on running errands and helping out the neighbors.

Hanging up his coat, you caught a glimpse of him and he looked absolutely wrecked; hair tousled and bags under his eyes with that exhausted look written all over his face. You knew he was tired, you knew he had worked so hard, but damn did he look good.

"Hi," you whispered, earning a small, tired smile from him. “Hey.” Voice quiet, he walked over to the table, looking around, “Do you know where the–” 

“The paperwork?” He nodded, knitting his brows, “I did most of it, the rest is in the first drawer.” A slight wave of shock was evident on his face as he looked your way. “You really didn’t have to..” 

shaking your head, you smiled at his shy tone, “You’ve been working so hard baby. It’s the least I could do.” 

He let out a tired chuckle, slumping beside you on the couch. “God, what did I do to deserve you.” His words made your heart flutter, and even when exhausted, he somehow found a way to look at you with eyes that made you feel like the finest paintings. 

“I missed you” he mumbled, resting his head on your shoulder, relaxing as your hand laced through his loose curls, humming softly, “Missed you too.” The dim lighting and gentle touch did nothing to help his drowsiness, huffing as he felt you move to pick up the remote. “Anything you wanna watch?” 

He sighed, burying his face in your neck, “Whatever you want.” Poor boy, he was completely drained. You clicked through the channels before deciding on something you hoped would be interesting. 

Mike moved his head slightly, eyes on the screen, but his thoughts were on you. Everything about you drove him crazy. That soft voice of yours and even softer touch occupied his mind every day, craving you more than anything he’d ever tasted. The only thing he could think about was those desperate sounds that spewed from your pretty lips when he went down on you. 

“Mike?” Slipping from his thoughts, he shifted against you. “Hm?” God. His voice drove you insane. “We don’t have to watch anything—I mean you seem really tired.” He shook his head, breathing in your sweet scent. “Mm…I jus’ wanna be with you.” Words slurring from exhaustion, he lost himself in your presence. You nod, trying to drown yourself in the movie, though, it threatened to put you to sleep with its nonexistent plot. 

Your attempts to focus were interrupted by that familiar touch, Mike's hands caressing the dip of your waist, “What are you–” Cutting off with a sharp inhale, you felt his fingers slip under your shirt.

You bit back a sigh as his body moved closer. "Missed you so fucking much," he groaned softly, trailing kisses across your jaw. The tone in his voice was so much more desperate than before, hands teasing your hot skin with his fingertips. "Mike..." you sighed, "we can't—" He touched you with such care, dragging his fingers down to your hips, but you knew you had work in the morning. Any longer with him touching you like this, and you'd be up all night. "Focus on the movie baby," he mouthed against your neck. 

You tried to protest, but your jaw went slack before you could even speak as he found that sweet spot against your skin.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Hardly processing what he was saying, your body melted at his touch. "You don't know how badly I've been wanting to do this." His words clouded your mind, making it hard to think about anything other than him. It was like he was a different person from when he first got home, his sweet nothings only making you want more.  “I thought you were tired.” Your breathy whisper made his mind spiral.

“Never too tired for you.” 

Inhaling deeply, you tried to keep your eyes on the screen, but no matter where you looked, your mind drifted to him and his touch. Struggling to focus, his hands glided down to your thighs, that feeling of his fingertips dancing on your bare skin making you dizzy before they slipped under your shorts. "Please," you whined. 

"Mike, please—" Your desperation was mesmerizing as he drank in your soft begs, that intoxicating scent of your perfume flooding his senses. 

"Please what?" Desire wrapped around him, "C'mon, baby, tell me what you want." His words were soft, silently begging to hear your lovesick voice. 

You bit back a shy moan, "Touch me…Please." 

Head spinning at the sound of yourself, Mike's breath hitched at your plea, slipping his fingers under your panties. You tipped your head back at the fuzzy feeling of him tracing your clit in slow circles. "Fuck..” he groaned, dipping a finger inside of you, “Look how wet you are." 

He admired your parted mouth struggling to stay quiet and knitted brows before slipping another finger into you, the gentle stretch making your mind go numb. 

 "God, you sound so pretty," he moaned, sinking his fingers deeper, “Come on... let me hear you." 

You had no choice but to let go, drowning him in your soft, involuntary sounds as his fingers curled against that perfect spot you so desperately craved.

You tried, you really did, but you just couldn’t focus on the screen when his fingers were pumping in and out of you, hitting those places that you could never reach.

"I—I can't," you whimpered, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach, you squirmed at the feeling, desperately moving your hips for more friction. He pulled his fingers out right before you could reach the edge, leaving you breathless. You couldn’t even speak, inhaling sharply as he moved off the couch and down to the floor in front of you. Tugging at the waistband of your shorts, your hips stuttered before allowing him to slip them down. 

Legs closing at the sudden exposure, you looked down at him nervously.

"Keep your legs spread f’me," his voice laced with desire and desperation as he gazed up at you. He looked so pretty on his knees like this, that sleepy look filled with a drunken gaze, high off of your body.  Shyly complying, you kept your eyes glued to the man in front of you, hooking his arms under your thighs, hands gripping your hips to keep you still. “Yeah, There you go..” Heart beating faster from the praise whispered into your skin, you couldn't help but bite back a whimper.

That soft sound melted into a moan as his tongue teased you, pressing your hips up against him, you quietly begged for more. Your eyes met his as you looked down, tugging at his hair, and sighing as his tongue finally pressed down on your clit. It was so hard to pay attention to anything else when he was making the sweetest noises you’ve ever heard; that pussy drunk expression driving you insane.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he groaned, blissed out and addicted from the way you tasted. He savored every sound that fell from your pretty lips, slipping his fingers back into you. A whine fell from him as you tugged on his hair once more, brain dizzy from losing yourself in pleasure. Consumed by a trance-like state, you desperately tried to control the moans spilling from your lips as he curled his fingers inside of you.

“Please" he whined breathlessly, the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of you was addicting. "Cum for me.”

That perfect movement of his tongue working against your cunt had you seeing stars as his name fell from your lips, and fuck, it sounded even better when you were moaning it. The coil in your stomach threatened to snap as his fingers moved faster, eyes shut in pure pleasure. 

"Mikey," you whined, tipping your head back, "Please... I'm–" A broken moan escaped your lips as his fingers buried deep inside of you, desperate for more of those beautiful sounds.

Breathy whimpers spilled from your mouth as you teetered on the edge, finally finishing with the prettiest noise Mike swore he had ever heard. That tired gaze in your eyes made him melt, legs trembling as his fingers slipped from your aching core. He moved his head up to your flushed state, hands roaming across your body as he pressed his lips against yours so desperately; soft, needy moans muffling into the kiss. Slowly slipping his tongue into your mouth, the sweet taste of yourself on him left you weak in the knees.

Pulling back, he admired your beautiful state. Messy breathing, and tainted cheeks; he couldn’t help but bite back a smile, knowing that he was responsible for those sweet eyes and pretty sounds. "You did so good," he mumbled, still tipsy from your body as his arms wrapped around your waist. "Sorry we couldn't watch the whole movie," You collected your thoughts, shaking your head with a weak chuckle, "I enjoyed watching you more."

[dragcnbreak]

Mike Schmidt being your caregiver would include…

• soft pet names but especially “baby” and “baby girl” and “baby boy”

• naps, naps, and more naps! mike is always tired, especially after a shift or even after just waking up. he likes to be the bigger spoon and you feel safe in his arms so win-win

• him spending his last dollar on things for you, like stuff to color with or stuffed animals. you and abby always come first before him

• speaking of abby, you definitely have play dates with her. you both think she doesn’t understand age regression and just think of it as playing along with her, but she knows better

• him bringing your drawings (also sometimes abby’s too) to work with him, tucked safely in his wallet. he looks at them frequently, especially when he’s feeling down

• bedtime stories! they mostly consist of books borrowed from the local library accompanied by mike’s tapes for ambience. he isn’t the best at doing the voices but he always tries them to make you laugh

• watching movies, also borrowed from the library. you always pick disney but sometimes, mike will get a horror movie so you can cling to him for safety. he loves making you feel safe and cared for

• physical affection!!!!! mike isn’t the best with his words but you can always rely on getting a hug or a forehead kiss when he sees you. sometimes, he’ll pepper you in kisses and you giggle until you can’t breathe and he smiles and it’ll be the best thing that’s happened to him all day

◞♡࿐

my first time ever writing something like this >< idk what it is about mike but this is also like my first time ever reading “x reader” stuff for a character and also wanting to write it. if you want more agere stuff with mike, pls let me know <3 ily, ty for reading!!!!!

[etherynn]

— Most Beautiful Someone

pairings : mike schmidt ✗ fem!reader

word count : 1.9k

summary : in which you discover something shocking yet beautiful of one of mike’s features.

genre / contains : FLUFF, so much love and adoration for mike ( as he deserves ! ) kissing, cuddling, very minor cussing, maybe some slight repetitive things - if so I apologize in advance— but I think das it—

tags : @mrswatermelons-blog ( so far ! )

author’s note : hi there ! this is my first fic of mike schmidt (while another is currently on the works—) but anyways, I would really love to hear ( well read —) what you thought about this, and I hope you enjoy ! <33

You, from the moment you laid eyes on him, had the surface of Mike’s face etched within your mind.

The shape of his brows, the outline of his gaze, the narrowness of his perfect nose, the curves of his mouth, the structure of his jawline, the stubble accentuating his skin.

Every furrow and frown, every twitch and spasm, every scrunch and flare, every curve and pout, every lock and movement, every feel and scratch, every freckle and wrinkle.

You cataloged and analyzed his every lineament, leaving no part unseen nor unloved. From the features upon him to the ones within and deeply hidden – flawed yet so utterly and devastatingly beautiful in your perspective, and no one could ever tell you otherwise.

Yet you’d recently made a shocking revelation. One that had occurred one late night, for you remember perfectly how the moonlight seeping through his curtains illuminated his pretty face and how you just couldn’t get enough of him as he was with you.

It’d occurred when your palms had cradled the exterior of his jaw, pads of your thumbs brushing the corners of his mouth as they hoisted into the brightest of smiles he’s ever gifted you with. The frigidness of the silver aligned around your digits produced a sensation oddly soothing enough for the skin below his bristles, pressing every so gently with every stroke upon his cheeks.

His dark locks – usually disheveled and grim with sweat from all his hard work – carried an aromatic scent, thick strands curling around the crown of his head in a way that gave him a light stroke of a boyish look. It was a look that you couldn’t simply brush aside, murmuring teasing but soft remarks which he could only chuckle sheepishly at, cheeks flushing at your words.

And his breaths – deep from within his lungs and exhaled in such a leisured way – fanned across your skin when he’d shift himself forward to softly kiss you.

“I’m very happy right now.” You breathed serenely, cheek nudging to the side of his nose while he bore deeper into your form, a single finger of his brushing along the refined line of your collarbone before retreating.

“Yeah?” You could feel the corners of his mouth elevate against the apple of your cheek, your smile brightening while giving him a nod.

The pads of your digits skim across his skin, luminous under the sphere’s light.

His hands – adapted but so warm, so perfectly fitting upon your every curve – were touching you in the purest way, palms rested above your hips, thumbs stroking the clothed flesh there while his digits rested slightly near the sides of your lower back, occasionally pushing against your skin – aching to keep any space between you both closed. He’d been absorbing every moment and basking in every touch you gifted him, whiskey brown eyes observing, admiring you as he always does.

Or what you had thought were whiskey brown eyes.

The tints of his faint freckles somehow became more conspicuous under the light, and so did the color of his so-called brown eyes.

His lashes, a very subtle curl within their edges, had been the curtain their color had seeped through. A shade of green you caught, a flicker of yellow that sparkled. That was until his eyelids hid them, closing for a few seconds as he released soft breaths while relaxing into you.

For a moment you thought yourself delusional, bewildered, possibly even wasted on something somewhat similar to an alcoholic beverage. Intoxicated by your very own drug, Mike Schmidt.

It was laughable almost, the way you had tensed, not batting an eye, heartbeat coming to a halt at the ‘false knowledge’. And perhaps you would’ve if it weren’t for them coming to view once more, shining more vividly than you’d seen them the first time.

Your eyes darted between his, a glower narrowing your gaze before humming deliberately.

His mouth – lusciously pink and gaining a suppleness from every sweet mold pressured against yours – twisted into a smile. “What is it, doll?”

Another hum rumbled up your throat, a quiver he felt so profoundly as he laid upon you, chin atop your chest. He chuckled softly when your lips pursed, neck craning forward to the point where the tip of your nose brushed up the bridge of his, a soft eupna aerating over the outline of his upper lip, and this he absorbed as if it was his breath of fresh air.

While he bathed in the close proximity you both shared in this moment, there was a perplexity rising in him at your slight … eccentric behavior, to say the least.

“...Y/N?”

“Your eyes.”

“What ?”

“Your eyes,” You repeated, a bit more louder, finger reaching out and very lightly brushing along the bottom edge of his eye, lower lashes greeting your skin with a butterfly kiss. “-aren’t brown.”

This he furrowed his brows at, chin jutting out while his mouth twisted into what could be described as a reproving grin. “What’re you talking about? My eyes are brown.”

“Yeah, when light isn’t near them.” You corrected, squinting even harder to continue your inspection. A narrow ring of gold brimmed around his pupils, a prominent twinkle given from the moon’s bright glow. It brought out a moss-like green hue, whiskey brown enhancing their richness. “There is a bit of brown in them though…but not entirely. They’re kinda green.”

You knew how clear, almost translucent his orbs had been. You’d seen him in every shine of light except nature’s. It’s avowed to say you haven’t had a full, open schedule to always be together, moments always scurried, trying to soak in as much as you could. But you always admired, always assured him it was okay and for that very reason, his love for you seemed to swell tenfold.

Your words were breathless, expression astonished and your hands fell to the bed, trying to take it in. You smiled widely when his eyes held wide and open for you to continue looking into them. “A-are you sure?”

Laughter bubbled up your throat, hands finding their place on his cheeks once more. “Yes, I am… in fact, I think they’re hazel.”

It was his turn to squint, giving you an almost dubious look but sort of…hopeful– before letting out a staggered scoff. “Hazel ? W — no I have to see this–” He was quick to rise off you but not before twisting in your hold and placing a swift kiss to your palm.

You watched in amusement as he rushed to pick up a small mirror he had placed on his desk, watching from behind how his thumb rose to stretch his eyelid up. He blinked numerous times, then bulged his eyes out, then blinked some more.

“I have green eyes.” His words were soft and even but they laced with astoundment.

You brought a hand to your mouth, curling it into a fist and coughed into it, “Hazel.”

Mirth shimmered your face whenever he turned back at you, a goofy grin transforming his face. “I have hazel eyes.”

It was extraordinary, oddly terrifying even how strong and aching your love for him was. How with each new revelation coming to the surface only spiraled and intensified that love, even with the simplest of smiles. And somehow, as he finds his way back upon you, face centimeters away from yours, that current revelation of his hazel eyes illuminates the tones of his features, igniting the warmth and happiness of his expression.

And you just have to smile down at him as he cuddles himself into you – murmuring how he’s much cuter than Abby now and mentioning how his mother had green eyes so perhaps it’d make sense for him to inherit hazel eyes – because as you gazed at him with delight and love, hearing him speak with ease and openness when near you, one wouldn’t have ever suspected the past he’d had.

A most beautiful, strong human being you fell in love with. To have such a deterrent in one’s life as a young child and be able to course it no matter the struggle. “I’m so glad I found you,” You whispered, touching his cheek, “So glad you’re my most beautiful someone.”

His gaze softened, cheeks flushing at your words and a gold radiance warmed his vibrant depths as he stared up at you. Your lips were curved – imbuing that precious smile he’d thoroughly adored. The backs of his fingers stroked your cheeks, soon sliding them across the line of your jaw and down your neck.

His gaze stayed fixated on your face, noticing the faint tint of blush dusting your cheeks. It pleased him to feel, to know it was because of him.

You were some breath of fresh air, bursting into his life in all the middle of his estranged drawn out events— brash in all the right ways, kind when he needed, and far too soft to be tangled up in any of his troubles.

And while he tried keeping you away, trying to keep you from any taunt of his mess, he’s eternally grateful you didn’t.

He’d come to the terms already, that with the inexplicable revelation he beamed unconditionally like the most love-sick idiot on this planet, just for you. Every action and word uttered to existence was all because of the goodness you believed lied within him, and he was damn sure nothing could ever change that.

It was a rarity for him – to be perceived in so much affection, acceptance, love. To feel it channel so heartily, so essentially through you, enveloping him with it.

A tenderness he’d never felt or known before, until he found you.

His head shook, curls swaying at the action before hoisting himself forward until his forehead rested over yours. There was something unreadable that floated in his eyes, something gentle and so very fragile as he let himself ease into your touch.

Your palms cradled his jaw, feeling the tremors of it, hearing the deep inhales he took in. Your words had stirred his insides, and you’d quickly realized he didn’t know what to say, how to approach your declaration. And you didn’t force him, simply letting him know there was a strong ability in unspoken words. With that, he did nothing other than let a breath caress your mouth before puncturing a kiss.

Soft, sweet. He was very gentle with you, but it was Mike, always so desperate, so touch-starved when he was being consumed by your frame, your jittering breaths, the grasp of hands and lips, your very love.

With one final brush of his smiling lips, one final shimmer of colorful eyes thanks to nature’s glow, he let his head tuck beneath your chin, nose nuzzling over the column of your throat before letting his cheek fall upon your chest.

You love him unconditionally — there’s no hesitation in those words. But you loved him even more when in this state. Free to hold, free to express, free of worries, free of the past. It was easy to forget that he was a simple human soul with flaws, wrapped in a chaos he had no fault over and yet found himself in distress so very often.

Yet you offered him something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Peace. Like a river that has been rushing, pulled by the currents for too long, cycling through many untamed and unpredictable storms. Yet you made his waters still. You’d like to think that perhaps the temporary end to Mike’s storm inhabit in your arms, soul entwining in your heartbeat.

And you're not sure your heart has never felt like this before — so molten hot, valves working overtime, ribbons of affection tightening across your chest. You’re certain they’d leave scorch marks, revelations of your bleeding heart that pulses with each beat just for Mike.

And though you continued to unravel wonderous revelations of your love for Mike, one was certain ; Mike was your most beautiful someone and that will never falter.

[krazykit]

imagine sucking mike schmidt off under his desk while he's at work. he'd be kinda hesitant at first, but only because he doesn't want to get obliterated by damn animatronics. he's getting rock hard as soon as you get under the desk and put your hands on this thighs to spread them slightly, your face hovering above his clothed cock. you can already see the outline of him through the blue denim of his jeans, his hard throbbing cock pressed against the zipper uncomfortably through his boxers. he lets out a breath as you unbutton and unzip his jeans, freeing him from the main discomfort. you pull the waistband of his boxers down to beneath his balls, thick dark hair at the base of his cock and leading up to his belly button, the tip of his penis leaking precum. you slowly lick along his length and he groans softly, especially when you swirl your tongue around the tip. he really loses it when you take him in your mouth, groaning and breathing heavily and shakily with one hand gripping your hair slightly and the other gripping the arm of his chair. when he gets close he grips your hair a bit tighter, and he begins to moan and get more vocal. he tries to focus on the security cameras, but he just feels so good, it's difficult to focus on anything aside from the pleasure he's receiving and the way your mouth feels. a few minutes later, he's groaning loudly and even whimpering a bit as he cums, thrusting his hips upward and moaning loudly as he cums in your mouth and down your throat. when he's finished he leans back in his chair, breathing heavily, his cock softening against his thigh. when he's come down from his high he looks down at you, his eyes half-lidded and just about the only thing he can say is "holy hell, you're amazing." because you truly are. especially when you assist him to work.

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Hey I love your work so much!!

I was thinking of maybe a Mike Schmidt x reader where the reader is all like “I’m not good enough for you, I don’t deserve you” stuff and then like Mike makes it up to the reader to show them that they are more than enough 🫶

Sure, but it's gonna hurt!

Blue Sunrise

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: All is well, yet you aren't. A fact that disturbs and irritates you so, even if it shouldn't.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no use of gendered pronouns for Reader, SFW with brief mentions of smut, pre-established relationship, set during the movie but that's honestly not very relevant, hurt/comfort, Reader and Mike both have PTSD, this isn't projection, bed rotting, depression, self-loathing, night terrors/nightmares, panic attacks, sleep deprivation, mentions of medication, lack of self care, slight self-harm (scratching), breakdown, nosebleed.

Notes: *in sonic snapcube dub voice* heyyyyyyyyyyyy what's upppppppppppppp it's meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee (STOP!!)

                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

6:34 A.M.

The dawn is gentle, the sky a soft blue behind the thin, cheap blinds that cover the bedroom window not that far in front of me. If I wanted, I could get up and open the window, revealing the surely beautiful and gorgeous sunrise that waits for me just outside the blinds.

But I don't. And I won't.

Birds sing gently outside, waking up and fliting about here and there. It's my favorite part of the day, quite frankly. When I can, I open the window to allow in the fresh, cool air, moist with the morning dew, unmuffling the bird's songs as I drift off to sleep, my schedule mostly in tune with Mike's for his night shift. Sometimes I manage to stay awake to greet him when he returns home. It's always nice when I do. His smile is lazy, his strides long and slow as he makes his way to the bed, peeling off his work clothes and crawling under the covers with me. Sometimes he'll press himself against me, his lips finding my neck as his hand dives between my thighs, his fingers trained on one goal as he murmurs against my skin how much he's missed me. Sometimes I wake to this.

There's a part of me that wishes he'd do this today just so I wouldn't have to think.

The lock on the front door rattles as someone attempts to insert a key into the hole. It doesn't matter how long he's lived here or how he uses those keys every morning, he still takes a moment to make sure he's using the right one, and on the first try he usually isn't. So it takes him a solid minute to unlock the door and enter the house. If we had dogs, they'd surely drive us insane from his routine. It slightly drives me insane already. But I'm technically not even supposed to be awake, so I never mention it.

When Mike finally enters the house, the first thing I hear after the satisfying break of the doors seal ringing throughout the living room is a deep sigh as Mike's backpack lands in front of the coat rack. He should be quieter about setting it down. I would be. But I think he assumes we should be so deep in sleep it really wouldn't matter, and it honestly doesn't make much noise. Just a slightly dull 'thud' against the thinly carpeted floor.

Next I can hear his car keys land in the bowl they're meant for. Again, he's a bit too loud with it all. At least, while people are sleeping. But it's not really a bother. In a way, I like it. It gives me a routine to memorize, his sounds before he'll trail to our room and come press himself against me.

The rocking recliner creeks softly as he sits in it, lazily undoing the laces on his boots before he tosses them towards the coat rack. And next he'll duck his head into the fridge I'm sure and look for the leftovers I put into a big bowl for him to warm up - which he won't, because he's a psychopath who likes cold food. - and then when my alarm goes off, he'll come to wake me up, rising from the old couch where he's very quietly reading his book while he eats and do whatever he has to do to prevent me from slipping back into sleep. He's very good at that job. Especially when he uses his tongue.

But today there's a break in the routine. Today, his footsteps are padding towards our room, the door quietly opening as he slips in. I can hear him let out a soft sigh as he tugs on his hoodie, pulling it off and then discarding of his jeans, which muffle the clack of his belt buckle as he slips them off. Left in his undershirt and boxers, he crosses the room to open the blinds and the window, letting in the fresh air and leaning against the thin windowstill for a moment. Now, I can see him.

He looks rested, a little more than he should for having just finished a night shift. I keep telling him he's going to get fired, but he always wiggles his way out of that conversation. The bags usually under his eyes aren't too deep this morning, which while problematic is relieving. His skin is pale blue from the dawns light that pours into the room. His dark curls are more thick on the top of his head, clumped together from him not brushing them after his shower. He must've used too much conditioner, because his hair also looks thicker than it usually does. The breeze blows his oversized pale blue shirt against his chest as he leans forward, allowing his eyes to close as he takes in a deep breath. It feels like an overly private moment. Like I've intruded by watching him. I don't see him like this much when he isn't alone. When he's with me or Abby, he's alert. Somewhat on guard. It's like he's watching us to make sure we're okay. He's too used to things falling apart in an instant. But when he's alone, physically or emotionally, the walls crumble away to reveal a man who enjoys peace. Who smiles softly as he bends down low, resting his chin upon his arms, letting the dawn greet him and being the supposed first in the house to greet the dawn. And I feel like a stalker for watching him. A scene that feels as if I've stolen what will now only exist deep in my mind for when I want to remember one of the few times he has truly ever looked at peace with the world. It's a scene out of a painting. As private as a prayer. I should grant him more privacy, but I don't. In a captivated and enchanted way, I can't.

I'd never tell him this, but in this moment he looks like his mother. And not in the sense of him being her son. No, based off of the few photos I've seen of her in more private, intimate instances, like when she was holding a very small Mike on her lap on his second birthday, or when Mike's father had stolen a photo during their honeymoon when she wasn't looking, Mike looks just like her. Quiet, serene, not hiding anything from anyone because there's no need. At this moment it is just him and the gentle, late winter breeze that makes my nose begin to sting. He's beautiful. Just like she was.

The moment comes to an end, and now it is just a moment that exists only within my mind as his eyes open. The blue dawn brings out the green in his eyes that's usually hidden by artificial light that overpowers the amber, turning them mostly black in some instances. That's the color I thought they were until I saw him in proper daylight. His long lashes bat once, twice in an almost sleepy manner as he shifts his focus, now turning his head to look at me. I shut my eyes quickly, my canines biting into my tongue to force myself to keep a straight face. But it's too late. We made eye contact, even if it was only for a second, and now he knows I'm awake.

"Sweetheart?" He whispers softly, his voice low and slightly gravelly in the way it always is. His 's' and 't's just a tad sharp, clear as always when he speaks. I hear the floor groan as he pads towards me.

I don't speak. I'm not supposed to be awake. I should be asleep, he would rather I was asleep. I tried to be asleep.

He stops in front of me, I can hear the floor groan louder as he crouches in front of me. He's trying to decide if I'm awake or not, if maybe he'd been tricked into thinking we made eye contact. But something convinces him he hasn't, and the bed sinks as he places a hand upon the mattress to support his weight while he kisses my temple.

"Hi," he whispers against my skin, placing another kiss just above the curve of my brow. "Good morning." He places another kiss on the space between my brows, his lips now trailing up to the middle of my forehead. "You look so pretty like this."

Like what? My skin shining with oil, my nose dirty, my body heavy from not having moved?

Something makes him pause when his lips find my cheek. He keeps his lips pressed against my skin for a moment before he pulls away, licking his lips as he looks closer at me.

"Hey," he whispers softly, a finger finding my chin. "Open your eyes."

I don't want to. When I do he'll instantly know what I've been doing, and I don't want to handle it. I don't want to deal with it.

His hand slips under my head, between my cheek and my pillow.

"Sweetheart, your pillow's wet," he says in quiet surprise. "Open your eyes, talk to me."

Hesitatingly, I obey. Cracking my eyes open and trying not to reveal how horrid the dryness in them feels after allowing them rest for a few moments after keeping them open for what could have been hours at this point. Mike's face is inches from mine, his brows furrowed in concern as his eyes scan for other obvious signs of distress.

"Hi," I croak in a tired, unused voice as I try to pretend all is well. Mike unfortunately knows better.

"What happened?" He asks concerningly, taking in the tone he does whenever Abby is upset, fretting over me like I'm an injured child as both of his hands cup my face, his lips finding what he's confirmed are thin, itchy and salty tear tracks, placing several, feather-light kisses along them.

"Nothing," I answer honestly, my voice still cracking. "I'm fine."

"Your eyes are red, baby," he says softly, pulling away to look at me again while his body inches closer. "You look like you've been crying for hours."

Ha. I wish. If I had been, maybe I'd feel better about everything. But instead, I've been lying here since Abby went to bed, feeling numb and dead internally as I willed myself to be upset about anything. Work, bills, the color of the walls. I'd succeeded maybe twice, little tears streaming down my face for a minute or two. But then they would stop, and it would feel as though I couldn't cry. Really cry. Like there was some emotional, maybe physical block preventing me from just truly letting all of my emotions out in a possibly hysterical fit. One that would mean I could connect to my humanity. I don't know what's wrong with me. So, instead I just say "I haven't cried."

Mike opens his mouth to call bullshit, but his brow furrows tighter as he thinks. "What's wrong?" He asks again, now lifting my head to allow one arm to slip underneath so I can lay upon it.

"Nothing," I answer again, truly unsure of what to say. "I'm really okay."

And I am. Work is fine, I am fine. Friends are fine. I don't have entitlement to be upset.

"Is it another episode?" Mike asks softly, now pulling his body onto the bed to lie next to me, fully committed to being partner of the year over here. Ugh. Great.

"No," I answer quickly, averting my gaze. Mike's hand cups my cheek, his body cool compared to mine. I'm soaked in sweat from sleeping - read: laying motionless on the bed since 9:30. - in too warm of clothes in too warm of a room under too warm of blankets. I probably stink. Meanwhile the morning air makes Mike feel refreshing. He's perfect. I'm a mess.

"It's okay if it is," Mike says softly. "It's nothing to be ashamed of if-"

"I'm not having an episode," I say firmly, cutting him off as though it will solidify my statement more than his if I finish mine first. "I'm just not."

I don't pretend to be perfect. I'm not, and I never will be. I know that's okay. I know episodes happen, and that I'll be okay. I've been so much better lately on my new schedule. I'm working, I'm happy.

I have absolutely no good reason to be in the midst of a depression episode. One where the memories won't leave my mind, where I can't sleep, can't think about anything but the past. It plays in my head over and over again, and I can't stop it. Even though I try. I read, I journal, I bathe. But I don't feel real. People don't feel real. Mike is disorienting in the sense that he is the only thing that truly feels real. Where the pale color of the sheets seems hypnotic, his slightly tan skin contrasts to remind me this place really does exist. The furniture and details of the room seem as real as something from a video game, renderings that aren't as realistic as they could be that blend into the wall more as you look. Flat. Nothing. But the freckles on his nose are real. Strikingly real. Overly real. It's as though someone took their time to place each one, carefully deciding their color, their opacity, their placement. I want and love each one, but at this moment they slightly torture me by drawing me into a comforting trap.

"I haven't had an episode in over a month, I'm better," I attempt to say in a firm, solid voice. But I'm too tired, too worn out. My chest burns both from anxiety induced heartburn and how shallow my breathing has been for the past several hours. Mike looks sad, and I hate that. Deeply.

"You have been doing better," he says softly, like a reassuring parent. "I've seen that. And I'm so proud of you."

But I still have this. I'm still like this. I still can't have people wrap their arms around me from behind because I'm instantly taken back to when it would end in me collapsed on the ground, panting, crying, calling out for help that just wouldn't come. I still can't wear shirts with too tight of collars because it always end with me half naked, ripping the shirt off while hyperventilating. That was how I had to tell Mike. For our first Christmas together he bought me this beautiful turtleneck, knowing I liked the style but didn't own many. A dark evergreen color, affordable but a lovely tight-knit material, I adored the thing. But the moment the shirt was over my head, the neck felt like a hand suffocating me, and though I tried to tolerate it fie as long as I could, it only took one casual graze of his hand along my back to send me reeling into a corner, hyperventilating, sobbing, blubbering like a terrified child as I clawed at my neck while he tried to get it off of me.

'I'm so proud of you.' The statement feels like a backhanded reward. It feels as though I'm an idiotic child who just can't learn their ABC's or basic fundamental math. It feels like I'm a small toddler surrounded by adults looking at me full of pity in their eyes while they think 'well, you'll never be normal by any means. But maybe one day if you're lucky, you'll work in a Subway.' But they don't tell me this. They just praise me for existing. 'You woke up today! You put on clothes today! You didn't kill yourself!' It makes me want to scream. Yes, even at him. I want to grab him by his shirt and scream until my voice is shattered 'don't praise me for the bare minimum! I'm not a child!'

But I know he's not. I know he feels the same way when he slips back in progress as well. There was a solid month last year where Mike's insurance refused to pay for his sleep medication due to some paperwork slip and such, something they eventually realized was a complete blip on their end. But that month was hell for Mike, who could barely sleep well even with the medication. His easy smirks were replaced with cracked lips, skin raw from constant biting. His eyes were filled with paranoia from lack of sleep, and worse were the night terrors. Mike didn't even know he was still capable of having them, usually sedated by his meds well enough that if there was a nightmare, he just stayed asleep. At worst he'd wake up in a haze, maybe a very short yelp if anything. But without his meds, it was screaming. Constant screaming. There were nights he would wake after only an hour and he'd start, his voice shrill and reverberating off the walls as he thrashed in the bed. You couldn't console him, touch made him worse. When it happened, you simply had to leave the room and pray he would be okay. The episode could last anywhere from five minutes to an hour, and you would know it was over when all you could hear was broken sobbing, quiet and childlike in nature. Then I would return to the room, and there he'd be. Sometimes wrapped in blankets, sometimes his shirt torn off of himself. Usually sitting either in the dark corner of the room or on the floor of our closet. Red, angry marks would trail along his skin from clawing at himself with his uneven nails, some of them being actual cuts he'd managed in his terror. I'd carefully clean his cuts with cotton balls and hydrogen peroxide while he silently stared ahead, too ashamed to speak or make eye contact with me. And too terrified to sleep again.

Sleep deprivation didn't help, either. One day I saw him with a Redbull stuck in his hand, seemingly never empty despite how much he drank from it. At first I thought it was one, than I realized it was three, then I realized I didn't really know what number he was on. It was surprising how well he could take the new, unusual load of caffeine that tastes sickly sweet without so much as a twitch of an eyebrow. I didn't realize he was trying to starve off sleep until the next morning when his leg was bouncing a mile a minute and he was snapping at every little thing. That day he had a breakdown over dropping an unpeeled onion. And that's when it slipped out.

I didn't judge him. I was terrified for him, but I didn't judge him. And I could tell the same was true for him when I would have my slips, though mine looked different. Mine looked like a lack of self care and rotting in our bed, staring pointlessly ahead until he would lift me off the bed and carefully guide me to a warm bath, where he'd gently wash my skin with a soft rag like I was a newborn while I stared ahead at nothing. At this point we had learned to tell the oncoming signs of each others episodes, and how to starve them off. And if we couldn't, how to help each other through them.

Usually, I don't mind. But today, it hurts. It all hurts.

"Have you eaten?" Mike asks me gently, his thumb gliding over my cheekbone as he wraps me in his embrace, careful of where he places his hands on my person. Like I'm a bomb.

I don't want to be treated like this anymore.

"Yes," I sigh in an irritated voice, like it's the most inconvenient thing he should ask me such a question. But I haven't. I feel empty and yet too full at the same time, and guilt pounds behind my left eye with the ferocity of a headache that I can't just mother myself.

Mike doesn't believe me. He'll pretend he does, but the press of his lips betray him as he takes a deep breath in like he's trying to tell what wire to cut next.

"Would you like to have breakfast with me?" He asks softly, his thumb still stroking just below the raw corner of my eye. It burns. All of it.

'No,' I snap in my head. But I just tighten my jaw and press my own lips together.

"I'm not really hungry, but thank you," I say in a tight voice. Now he's going to pretend that's okay, and he'll go get his breakfast. Then he'll pretend he can't finish it all, joke lightly and say I gave him too big of a portion even though he eats like he's still a growing teenager, and offer me little bites as he "tries" to finish the rest, then eventually trick me into finishing it. He isn't slick, and I'm not a child.

"Hey," he says in a light whisper. "I was thinking maybe we could go out today? All three of us? Or I could call Max, see if she'll watch Abs for a little bit so we can get away?"

Distraction. Cute. I don't need it.

"That could be nice," I admit through half gritted teeth, not meeting his eyes. "Where to?"

"Anywhere," he says too quickly, obviously relieved to have a straw to grasp at. "Your choice."

Guilt twists in my chest like an alien creature settled in my lungs, burning as it begins to slither its way towards my throat to suffocate me on its wrath. He doesn't need to do this. Can't he see how well I'm doing?

"How was work?" He asks me in an attempt to keep me talking. Mike doesn't like silence, not like this. Not really any time. There's always noise throughout the house, whether it's a show on in the background or white noise from his cassette player. He can't stand silence. Especially from people.

"Work was..." Fine? The usual? Non-eventful?

"Good," I decide. Mike presses his lips together again. Stop doing that.

"Yeah?" He asks in a slightly tight voice.

"Yeah," I confirm in a tighter voice.

"You didn't... call out or anything?"

My bottom left back molar feels like it might snap from how tight my jaw is. "Why?" I ask, venom unintentionally creeping in.

"Just asking," he says quickly.

"Why?" I press harder, wanting to know who told on me. Abby hasn't even had the chance to speak with him.

'It's because he knows your patterns,' I think. 'He's trying to gage how serious this is.'

"Maybe we could go out for breakfast? We can wait until Abby wakes up, go get some Waffle Hous-"

"I'm not having an episode," I snap quickly, more harsh than I intended. My tone makes him flinch slightly, his eyes shutting for a moment as he takes another breath in. Now I'm scared he'll pull away.

"We... don't have to talk about this right now," he says softly, opening his eyes again and wrapping his arm around me tighter. "Let's just focus on breakfast."

The guilt pounds in my kidneys, which are sore since I haven't left the bed since I laid down after putting Abby to sleep, but I did have a full water bottle around 3:00 in the morning. It's not Mike's fault I backtracked. He's just trying to be nice. I'm the asshole here.

"I'm sorry," I say in a small voice, dropping my gaze and biting my tongue between my canines again to stop the tears that are now willing to come freely to burn my eyes during such an inappropriate moment.

"It's okay," Mike says softly, placing a kiss on my forehead. "Don't even think about it."

'Don't even think about the fact he's just trying to be a decent person and you can't even say 'thank you,'' a grating voice in my head chides me. 'What, you're too good for a free meal?'

"I'm sorry," I repeat softer, my nails digging into my wrist that I'm holding to keep control over myself. Mike's hand is searching for mine, ready to pry it away to prevent me from doing what I need to to prevent the waterworks.

"Hey." Stop with the 'hey's. "I said it's alright, you're okay."

It's all bad. Everything's bad, and it's not going to get better. I keep thinking I'll get better, I keep thinking I'll be okay. But every two steps forward is one step back and I can't keep doing this redundant bullshit for the rest of my life. Am I going to be 40 at the office Christmas party sneaking off to freak out in the bathroom because something triggered me and I just can't get a grip on things? Am I even going to make it to 40?

Mike is comforting me, cradling my head to his chest and rocking me back and forth. And his shirt is wet. I don't like that his shirt is wet, it should be dry. Why is it fucking wet?

"It's okay," he's whispering in my hair while horrid choking sounds come from somewhere around us. Maybe the other room? "You're alright, it's okay."

I'm aware it's alright, I'm aware it's okay. Why are you wet? Why does my head hurt?

"I can't- sleep," my voice chokes out between guttural sobs, my face pressed into his chest. "It's all nightmares."

Oh. Shit. That's me. The wetness, I did that. My bad.

"I know, it's okay. How long?" Mike asks softly. What, are you gonna call my therapist?

"A week," I moan into his chest. My ribs expand with each recycled breath I steal from against his chest, and I can feel him trying to gently tug me away so I can get one with fresh, cold air instead. I don't let him. My lungs burn more. "They just won't stop."

"It's okay, it's only temporary," he says softly, his hand pushing away some of the blanket to relieve me of the boiling warmth underneath. The cold air is refreshing against my skin, even through my clothes are soaked with stinking sweat.

"No, it's not!" I cry hysterically into his chest. "They don't go away. None of it goes away. I want it to go away!"

He's nodding, rubbing circles on my back as I grip his shirt hard enough it may stretch.

"It'll get better. It did for awhile," he reminds me.

"But I'm back here. I always end up back here. I was doing so good!" I sob, feeling the wetness on his shirt begin to slightly thicken, probably due to snot. I try to sniff it back into my sinuses, but I think that just draws his attention to the new fluid he's covered in.

"That's okay. You'll do even better next time. And if you don't, that's okay too." Don't say what I think you're going to say. Do not. Michael, I'm serious, don't- "I'm still proud of you."

Fuck. Ooooooff!

This is the real release of my emotions. Now I'm gasping, choking, sobbing, making horrible sounds that sound like a European ambulance siren wailing through the streets to announce someone's dying on the way to the hospital. My head throbs with the pain from the heavy crying, and I may give myself a nosebleed from the passion of it all. And Mike, his patience thick and durable, just holds me through it all. Letting me soak his shirt, dirty his skin, grab at him blindly while I wail like a spoiled child, just repeating the phrase over again. 'Proud.' What pride. What honor to be had at such a breakdown. Yes, very understandable.

"I should be better," I sob into his chest. "You deserve better."

"What?" He laughs lightly, and at first it feels mocking, but then he's pulling my head away fron my soaked enclosure and his eyes are so gentle for a moment I know the light laughter is simply from surprise. Then his eyes widen and he's back in parent mode.

"Don't leave me. Don't leave me!" I choke out while gripping his shirt. At first he thinks I'm talking about our relationship, then he realizes I'm not letting him pull away.

"Sweetheart, you're bleeding," he gently explains. "Let me wipe your face. I just need tissues. I'm not even leaving the bed."

But that's too much. Let me bleed, let my head throb, let this headache take the vision away in my eye from how bad it hurts. Let anything happen so long as I can stay in this moment. Don't break the spell. Don't let me go numb again.

"Don't leave me," I cry pathetically, my eyes all scrunched together in the same manner as wailing infants, my grip on his shirt not breaking. Sure enough, there on the wet spot of his shirt is a dark stain of blood that should hopefully come out if we wash it fast enough.

"Let me do that," I'm saying as I try to peel off his shirt now. "Let me wash it."

He's gently guiding my hands away. "Don't worry about it," he says gently, kissing my hands and wrists like they might break even from the delicate graze of his lips. "Let me take care of you."

He does this all the time. He always takes care of me. I should do more. Be more. For him.

"You deserve better," I choke out, feeling like I may suffocate from the tears. Mike's brows furrow in concern, and he grips my chin very carefully as he makes me meet his eyes.

"Hey, no. Get that out of your head, it's all okay," he tells me softly, staring at me like if he can't verbally convince me, his hard stare will do the trick. "I don't want to hear you talk like that."

"I should be better," I repeat, my crying lessening slightly as I try to hold eye contact.

"You're getting better," he reminds me. "This is the happiest I've seen you since we met. You'll get back to that. Hell, you could feel the same way tonight. It's okay. Take a day off. We all need one, even normal people," he says softly, stroking my hair as he kisses my forehead. "Can you just let me take care of you in the meantime?"

No. Go away, let me rot.

"We can still go out for breakfast," he offers gently. "I can still call Max, or we can all stay in. I'll set up a nest in the living room so you can watch TV. Works you like that?"

Stop. Stop being nice to me, stop trying to make me feel better. It all just feels awful. I don't want this guilt, someone takes it away.

Mike must sense my overwhelmed emotions, because he places another kiss on my forehead before asking if he can clean my face again, and this time I say yes. He pulls away, which is still upsetting but less so. I don't make a deal out of it this time at least. He opens a drawer, searching for wipes and pulling them out before turning back to me.

"Do you want to sit up?" He asks gently. I bite my tongue to prevent another mocking thought directed towards me and nod. Bones crack as I do, my kidneys hurt worse. But at least I finally moved.

Tears still streak down my face as Mike wipes away the snot and blood, his large hand gently cupping my face as he does. There's a soft smile on his face, though I'm not particularly sure why. And when he's done, he runs his thumb along my bottom lip before placing his own lips on top of mine. They're chapped, one spot raw from excessive biting. But there's still some leftover chapstick on them, and it tastes like grapefruit.

I tug on his shirt, one hand sneaking under it to feel his cool skin underneath. He gently takes my wrist once more, then pulls away. A silent rejection. He knows that I'm just looking for a distraction from my emotions, and in a moment he'll offer a much healthier one. He does discard the shirt, leaving his chest bare, but only so that he doesn't smear my fluids back onto me as he pulls me in for another embrace.

"We'll be okay," he promises. "Everything will be okay."

"What if it's not?" I ask in a quiet, strained voice.

"Then it'll be okay later. You can take time to not be okay," he says.

There's a short silence before either of us speak. And when I hear his voice hitch in the way it does when he's about to say something, Abby's alarm rings crystal clear in her room. Then the sound of a truck rattles by on the road in front of the house. Birds continue to sing. And my pours feel so clogged I'm sure my skin will be lashing out for days.

But it'll all be okay.

                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

"Can we have some fluff to reco-" no. Suffer.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool @laurrrelise. Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[redskull199987]

Hey, can you do more Mike Schmidt x reader? i liked a lot the last storie that you made of him ^^

Hold on to your Life by Love

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader Request

Word Count:1.5k

Warnings:some blood and injuries, but it’s canon typical violence, BIG fluff follows, Like really big fluff, Movie spoilers

Summary:After the events at the Pizza-Plex, you finally get to enjoy a slow moring together with your boyfriend…

Masterlist

It was hard to keep your eyes open. You blinked rapidly, trying to stand back up, but your body was aching. Blood trickled down your chin and onto your Shirt. With a grunt, you pressed a hand onto the wound on your side, where the damn cupcake had bitten you. You slowly looked up, your eyes focusing on Mike's unconscious body a few Meters in front of you. Abby was sitting beside him, tears in her eyes, while she tried to shake him awake. Her head shot up, as she realized that you were crawling towards them.

“Abby..”, You uttered under your breath, reaching your hand out for the little girl,”The drawings…you n-need to show them…”

With the little strength you had left, you finally reached the two of them. Abby hastily grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to her and Mike.

“You gotta show them..”, you repeated quietly. Abby gave you a firm nod before you saw her taking off to rip an old sign off of a Vending Machine. She quickly found a pencil and started drawing away. 

You eventually tore your eyes away from her, over to Vanessa. She had tried to fend off Afton as long as possible, but he had her backed against a wall. Only now you saw the knife still stuck in Vanessa’s stomach. A visible gasp left your lips, as Afton pulled it out forcefully and Vanessa fell to the ground.

A chill ran down your spine and fear struck your body, as Afton turned around, a creepy smile on his face. He looked way too happy, considering that he had just stabbed his own daughter. He was about to make his way over to you and Mike, who finally seemed to wake up again. But all your attention was caught by Abby, who seemingly finished her drawing and was about to pin it on the wall. Afton could only watch in horror how she ripped the previous picture off and pinned her own onto the wall. It showed a yellow Bunny with a knife in hand, attacking and killing the children.

A few seconds of silence arose, before the entire building started shaking, like an earthquake had struck it. The lights started flickering violently and you saw that the Animatronics all turned their heads towards Afton.

“Abby?!”, You yelled and the little girl promptly came running towards you,”Help Mike to stand up.”She quickly nodded and helped her older brother to his feet, while you snuck over to Vanessa. Ignoring your own wounds, You took hold of her arm and pulled her to her feet. You saw that she was slipping in and out of consciousness.

“Come on, Vanessa. Don’t die on me.”, You mumbled while you carried her towards the Exit, where Mike and Abby were already waiting. A few seconds later, the four of you slumped to the ground in front of the Pizza-Plex, which was completely crashing down at the moment. If you had been a few seconds slower, you would be laying under all of that rubble right now.

It took you a bit to tear your eyes away from the building. Only now, you noticed that your entire shirt and hands were soaked in blood…Vanessa’s blood.

“Mike..”, You mumbled, looking up to your boyfriend,”Please tell me that your phone is still working.”

The penetrative noise of your alarm slowly made its way into your brain, as you lazily opened your eyes. You raised a hand to quickly push some buttons on the clock, effectively shutting it up. The few seconds of silence that followed, were like music to your ears. But then, a groan next to you pulled you back into reality. You felt a shuffling under the sheets and soon enough, big warm hands wandered over your body, taking a hold of your waist and pulling you closer.

A smile spread over your face, as you felt Mike nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck, while he tangled his legs with yours.

“Hey there, sleepyhead.”, you chuckled, your hand now gently running through Mike’s hair. He only hummed in delight, choosing to spend a few more minutes in comfortable silence, just enjoying each other's presence.

“We should visit Vanessa in the Hospital today.”, You proposed, looking down at your boyfriend. Only now, he finally opened his eyes, searching for your own. When he found them, he gave you a smile and a firm nod, before leaning up to softly kiss your temple:”Sounds good.”

“Just a few more minutes..”, You mumbled, closing your eyes again. 

You tried to concentrate on Mike’s hands, holding you close. His warmth, that was invading you. You put your entire focus on him, trying not to think of what you had dreamt about. Or rather, the memories that came back to you in your dream.

The horrific night at the Pizza-Plex. Mike’s unconscious Body, Vanessa’s blood on your hands. You tried not to think about it too much, but the fact that Vanessa was still in the Hospital and hadn’t woken up yet, made you incredibly nervous. What if she didn’t wake up again? What if it was your fault? That she gave her life to save you and you could do nothing to repay her.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

The sound of Mike’s raspy voice successfully pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts and you looked back down at him. Almost immediately, a smile appeared on your lips, as you saw his face.

“Oh you know, just what we should eat for Dinner today.”, You joked,”Do you think Abby will want Spaghetti again?”

Mike chuckled upon hearing your thoughts. He slightly parted from you, propping his head up on his arm:”She probably can’t decide again.”

“Probably."...", Mike smiled. He lifted a hand to gently push a strand of hair out of your face. You followed the movement of his hand, until it rested against your cheek. Only then, you looked up into his eyes. And what you saw almost made you tear up. Mike looked at you with so much passion and adoration, it made your heart clench.

“I love you.”, he mumbled, after a few seconds of silence, where you just looked at each other.

You couldn’t help yourself, Almost instantly, after those three words left his lips, you leaned forward, kissing him passionately. The two of you tumbled over, Mike now beneath you, while you sat on top of his hips. With a mutual chuckle, the two of you parted again. Your hands now rested on top of his chest and you could feel his heart beating rapidly. 

Mike only looked at you for a second, before he gently grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand towards his lips to leave some delicate kisses on your skin.

You felt heat rising to your cheeks and you quickly looked away. But you couldn’t hide the grin on your face. It was so undeniably obvious how much you were in love with Mike. And he knew it.

“Let’s get up to make breakfast.”, Mike said with a smirk. He knew what he did to you, but he was at least kind enough to not say it out loud.

You nodded at his proposal and slowly lifted yourself from him, but before you could react, Mike grabbed your other hand, pushing you down on the bed, so that your roles were reversed now, with him on top of you. 

“Got you”, Mike grinned, pinning your hands down on the sheets above you. You only gave him a playful huff, trying to free yourself, but his legs on either side of your hips didn’t leave any room for moving around.

“You know, there is a way to free yourself.”, Mike said, not able to hide the grin on his lips.

“And what would that be?”, You asked, faking to be not interested.

Mike quickly leaned down, whispering into your ear:”A kiss.”

A shiver ran down your spine, as he looked at you again. His eyes moved to your lips and he gave you a questioning look, like he was asking for permission. You nodded, almost unnoticeable. But Mike did in fact, notice it and it didn’t take him very long to connect your lips in a tender kiss. This one was different. It was oozing with emotions and both of you poured everything that you had into it.

When you parted a few moments later, the two of you were panting against each other's lips, enjoying the aftereffects of the kiss.

“Let’s get up now, hm?”, You mumbled, gently stroking Mike’s cheek to pull him out of his haze. He gave you a small nod and slowly stood up, pulling you along with him.

“Do you think Abby is awake already?”, You asked curiously, while the two of you started to get dressed.

Mike only chuckled at your question:”I’m betting on it.”

“Sure.”, You smirked,”Whoever loses, has to buy dinner.”

“Deal”, Mike smiled.

Secretly, you knew that you would lose. But it made your heart bloom with joy, when you saw the expression on Mike’s face when he realized he won. You’d pay a million meals, if it meant you could keep seeing his smile.

[schmidtsbimbo]

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind boggling, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango ever bro could cause a nuclear bomb inside me and I'd still ride

[xcherryerim]

Teasing the Cute Neighbor

Mike schmidt x gn!reader

Couldn’t take my mind of Mike lawn mowing for a while now… so here y’all go 🫶🏻

tw: just suggestive :)

——————————————————————————

As you approached Mike, who was diligently mowing the lawn on this sultry day, you couldn't help but notice the way his muscles rippled under the skimpy white tank top he wore. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, outlining the contours of his handsome face.

His breath quickened when he saw you approach, seemingly disheveled from a run that left your clothes clinging to your body in tantalizing places. The sight made his heart race even faster, fueling his already heightened senses.

"Are you thirsty?" you say, your smirk suggesting more than just concern for his well-being on this sweltering afternoon. Mike blushed at the implied invitation, momentarily speechless as his gaze unintentionally lingered on your body.

"What?!" he stammered, attempting to regain his composure while wondering if his gaze had been too obvious.

"Are you thirsty," you repeated, extending a hand holding an ice-cold bottle of water. Your eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Oh." Mike managed to say, taking a deep breath to steady himself before reaching out to accept the offered bottle of water.

The cool liquid felt heavenly against his parched lips, offering relief not only to his throat but also to his flustered nerves. "Thank you."

With a self-satisfied smirk playing on your lips, you saunter away from Mike, feeling the thrill of having successfully teased your dear neighbor. Your hips swayed enticingly from side to side, a subtle dance designed to leave him captivated and wanting more.

The look on his face said it all – a mix of curiosity and desire, a perfect culmination of all your efforts.

"Bye, Mike," you purr, your voice dripping with seduction as you walk away, leaving him behind with nothing but the memory of your flirtatious display.

Unable to resist, he watches as you disappear from view, his cheeks flushed crimson in a combination of embarrassment and arousal. All he could manage was a soft "Bye..." before you were out of sight.

[desideriumwriter]

Movie Nights

(couldn't think of another title lol) just a simple little sleepy mike schmidt blurb, no pronouns used, 0.3k

“So…what did we think about The Princess Bride?” You clicked the power button to turn off the TV sitting on top of your dresser. 

“It was alright, I guess. I’m not a fan of cheesy 80’s rom-coms.” He shrugged, looking at you through half-lidded eyes.

“Really? ‘Cause I saw those watery eyes when we got to the final fight between Inigo and Count Rugen.” You leered at him.

“Yeah, sure, I think you’re just making things up.” He narrowed his eyes at you, giving a playful smirk back.

“Alright, now it’s your turn to pick out the movie for next week.” You flopped down onto the bed and tucked yourself under the sheets.

“We’ll be watching the Labyrinth.” A tired grin spread across his face.

“Isn't that one with David Bowie?” You sat up on your side and rested your head on your hand, your elbow poking into the pillow.

“Yeah. He plays Jareth, the goblin king.” His voice became sluggish.

“Goblin king? Really?” You chuckled.

“Oh come on, you pick out a cheesy 80s movie, I pick out a cheesy 80s movie.” He yawned. “I think you’ll like it.” His eyes slowly closed and he nuzzled his face into the pillow slightly.

“You’re falling asleep.” You giggled. 

“No I’m not, I’m just resting my eyes.” He muttered.

“Really?” You teased.

“Mhm.” He nodded. You just smiled and looked at his face smushed into the pillow.

“So the Labyrinth for the next Friday night movie?” He didn’t respond, he was already knocked out. 

You let out a small laugh to yourself, gently combing pieces of his messy brown curls aside to give him the most gentle kiss possible on his forehead, hoping you wouldn’t wake him up.

“Goodnight, Mike.” You whispered. Smiling as you laid your head back down on the pillow, looking at him one more time before closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep.

tell me what you thought!

[lovelykhaleesiii]

One Night with Mike

PAIRING: Mike Schmidt x fem!Reader

WORDS: 420.

SUMMARY: you spoil Mike with your presence whilst he’s on the job…

WARNINGS: swearing, thigh riding, p in v sexual intercourse, slight exhibitionism, mentions of spanking, praise kink.

A/N - I HAD TO GET SOMETHING OUT FOR THIS MAN. he is making me so feral, Mike Schmidt brainrot>>>> [forgive me I did not edit this little blurb] comments & reblogs appreciated x

you have been meaning to surprise Mike on his night shift: finding it incredibly lonely without him.

him being shocked to see you, although undoubtedly somewhat relieved, he pathetically tries to convince you to leave but immediately resigns his attempts.

you’ve brought him his favourite, home cooked meal, although he just had a quick bite. not in the mood to eat.

you slowly make your way ontop of him, plopping down on his thick, sturdy lap.

“whoopsie, I’ve forgotten my panties at home.”

Mike teasingly tuts at you, although that subtle, sly smirk says otherwise.

gracefully, your hips begin to sway, rocking backwards and forwards against his jeans. feeling the heat of the friction stir against your bare, moist cunt.

“Fuck, Y/N. my needy, little girl couldn’t go one night without me, huh?”

Each of Mike’s rough, large hands planted on an ass cheek, firmly squeezing at your flesh: he even sneaks in a haste, sharp spank causing you to moan.

feeling the growing tension beneath the straining fabric of his pants: his rigid, fat cock twitching beneath your eager cunt.

“M’suppose to be working baby, but look at you working for my cock.”

his hands try to push your body in deeper against his, shoving your body closer into his strong embrace, as his lips lap and suck at the sensitive skin of your neck.

the mindless, breathless moans etching from your lips are music to his ears: feeling his lips curl into a smile,L each time you whimper out his name.

“so fucking beautiful, my sweet, sweet girl.”

without so much as a warning [Mike was never good with words] he carries you and lunges you over the desk, as he hastily undoes his trousers.

his fat, hard cock springs out, girthy, reddened tip, glistening with his ooze, he wastes no time shoving himself deep inside of you: burying his entire mass inside, as he breathlessly crumbles over you.

his superior weight over you and the pressure from below stretching you out is exhilarating. he begins to find his slow, steady pace thrusting inside of you.

moaning praises directly into your ear, feeling his hot breath, perspiration against your soft skin, as one rough hand supports your back and neck, fingers entangled in your hair, and the other gripping at your hip.

time flies, having all that one on one fun, and the mess to clean up after keeps you both quite busy till the sunrise.

let’s just say the others had an interesting time watching….