#mike schmidt x gn!reader

[schmidtkisser]

Showering Together

pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader

word count: 1.9k

synopsis: mike joins you in the shower after you both had a long day

content: established relationship between you and mike, 2nd person point of view, mike is very touch starved, he struggles with his self esteem but is reassured by your love for him, comfort/fluff (and lots of it), love language: physical touch, you’re both naked obviously but nothing explicit happens

a/n: as mentioned above, fic is strictly comfort/fluff! might be suggestive, but it does not mention genitalia nor is it sexual in nature. also, first time posting here, hi :-)

★彡★彡★彡

Small wisps of steam fill the atmosphere, accompanied by sound of the water pattering against the tiled floor. Your shoulders roll back, relaxing as you feel the smooth rush of water flow over your back. Your stray thoughts wander freely in your mind, reflecting on the different things you did today.

You let out a soft and content huff, smiling to yourself as you think of Abby, the young girl you babysit routinely. You had just finished up your babysitting duties, having tucked her into bed almost an hour ago. The thought of the fun conversations and adventures you shared with her today were memories you couldn’t help but cherish.

Though, your lingering train of thought was interrupted at the sound of the bathroom door handle creaking at a turn.

You grow concerned, making an automatic assumption that it was Abby behind the door. Is she still awake? Perhaps she needs something? You comb back your wet hair with your fingers, droplets clinging to the tips of the strands before you peek your head out from behind the shower curtains.

“Abby?” You call out, your eyes casting a glance at the door. But instead of a 10 year old girl, you make eye contact with her brother (and your boyfriend), Mike, instead.

“Nope. Just me.” He spoke, inviting himself into the bathroom once he saw your face. He let out an amused huff at your immediate assumption that he was Abby. You notice his tired eyes softening as he looks at you, and it makes your heart flutter.

He quietly shuts the door behind him with the heel of his foot. “You been in here long?”

You shake your head, your fingers gently clutching onto the curtain as you give him a smile. “Wanna join me?”

A small blush dusts his cheeks as he gives you a singular nod in response. He starts to undress himself - jutting his shoulders back to push his jacket sleeves off his arms. He takes a hold of his shirt, clutching onto it to pull over his head. He leans a palm against the door, using the other hand to pull his socks off, and then fidgets with the button of his jeans before tugging them off with his boxers. His bare body would shiver at the cold air, if not for the steam accumulating from the warm water.

You carefully watch his movements, feeling a flutter in your stomach every time he removes an article of clothing. You love everything about him. The way his curls became ever so slightly ruffled when he pulled his shirt off. The look of his body, built - yet soft around the edges. You love how particular he is, even for a chore as simple and mundane as stripping off clothes for a shower.

He lazily tosses his clothes into the laundry hamper, making his way over to the shower to join you. He makes eye contact with you again, taking notice of the fact you watched while he undressed. The thought flusters him slightly, but he doesn’t mind it.

“Were you gawking at me the whole time I was taking my clothes off?” Mike asks, humour in his monotone voice as he carefully steps into the shower. He presses a small kiss against your temple once he was under the water with you.

“I couldn’t help it,” you say, your cheeks reddening upon the realisation that he felt your gaze the entire time. “Not when you’re so attractive.”

The comment makes the corner of his lip curl into a warm smile. In your relationship, looks weren’t important. In fact, it was the one thing that mattered the least. But the fact you found someone like him attractive made his mind buzz - especially since he never had the time or energy to maintain a perfect appearance.

He wishes you knew how much such a little compliment meant to him. “I could say the same thing about you.”

A giggle escapes your lips as he bounces the compliment back at you. A moment of silence fills the air as you gaze into each others’ eyes. His brown puppy eyes never fail to make you swoon.

You reach a hand up to his face, his cheek in your palm whilst your thumb gently traced the outline of the dark circles beneath his eyes. His eyelids flutter shut at the feeling of your palm, melting in your touch as small droplets of water trickle down his face. He looks so relaxed, something he rarely feels anymore because of work, finances, and other responsibilities. He wishes he could stay in your hold forever, not having to worry about anything anymore.

“Could you,” he murmurs, gradually opening his eyes once more. The bathroom light is almost blinding, he squints slightly before adjusting his sight to you with half-lidded eyes. He feels a rush of embarrassment run through him as he hesitantly finishes his question. “…Wash my back for me?”

You couldn’t help but grin slightly at his request. Of course, it wasn’t like he didn’t know how to wash himself - but the simple ask solidified how much he trusts you, and how comfortable he feels around you. “Of course.”

He averts his gaze from yours, leaning against your palm ever so slightly as he craves more of your touch. You trail your palm down to his shoulders, nudging him gently. Mike nods and faces the shower wall, his back now exposed to you. You take the soap sitting on the shower rack, lathering it between your hands before gently pushing your palms up against his back.

You slide your hands down his skin, carefully brushing past his shoulder blades, the water running over the curves of his back in streams of droplets. You feel the tension in his muscles ease against the mere feeling of your touch.

Your every move was tender and full of love, adoring the shape of your boyfriend. Soap massaged between your hands and his back, washing him thoroughly. You can feel yourself falling deeper in love with him the longer you keep your hands on him.

God, if this isn’t love, you don’t know what is.

You can’t help yourself any longer, moving a little bit closer to him to pepper small kisses up his back, to his shoulder blades, until you reach the nape of his neck. He lets out a soft gasp, melting further into your touch. Your hearts race in sync, and your hands snake around the frame of his body to wash his stomach and chest from behind. Your kisses remain gentle and sweet, your lips exploring the area around his neck as you leave no skin untouched.

The feeling of Mike in your arms, his wet curls against your forehead as you lean against him makes your head feel woozy. He feels the same way. He feels so safe in your grasp, so eased, comfortable, loved. Being so close to you feels like your fragile hearts are going to melt together into one.

Nothing but the rushing sound of the water and your breaths filled the room. Not a single word had been exchanged since you began to wash him. The silence wasn’t awkward, nor was it daunting - rather, it was peaceful and calm. Everything feels so, so still.

You repeat this process with his arms and legs too - he didn’t even have to ask. Despite the hard appearance of his arms, the muscle was soft as you squeeze them in your grasp. His eyes soften, watching you as you caress your hands from his shoulders, to his forearm, down to his own hands. Your fingers slowly intertwine with his, your palms pressing together as your heart begins to pick up its pace. You let out a breath, your eyes locking.

The closing gap between you two was subconscious. Before you could even process it, your faces were just inches away from one another, his breath brushing against your skin, almost as if he is teasing you with a kiss. Tilting your head slightly, your eyes flutter shut, finally closing the lingering gap between your lips. It didn’t take Mike long to kiss you back.

Mike hesitantly breaks the handholding. His calloused hands move onto your waist, pulling your body closer to his. You could feel your heart race faster when he travels his hands behind you, sliding them upwards, feeling your wet, naked back as he explores every inch of your soft lips with his own.

Your hands reach his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, exploring the prickled texture of his stubble beneath your fingertips. You want him, and he wants you too.

You pull away momentarily to take a breath, but Mike chases your lips for another kiss. His mouth cupped over yours, cutting your gasp short as he initiated a more intimate exchange. Your tongues meet, and you can feel his slide up against yours, savouring every second, every taste. A groan slipped out from his throat, muffled between your lips. There was no space left between your bodies, the hot shower pouring over you both.

You kiss until you’re left breathless and lightheaded. He rocks you in his arms, careful in his movements to prevent you from slipping. You can’t help but focus on the way he treats you with utmost delicacy - as if he was scared of ever letting you go. It urges you to push yourself closer to him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You want to reassure him that you are always here for him, and that he feels it with every kiss, every touch, and every loving exchange you share.

Your methods never fail to leave him so helplessly infatuated with you.

This time, Mike was the one to pull back with a heavy gasp, his lips a little swollen with love. You pant with him, collecting your breath after kissing for minutes on end. Honestly, it only felt like seconds. It was something you and Mike could drag on for hours.

You flutter your eyes open, your foreheads touching as you gaze into his eyes. It almost surprises you to see his eyes glossy with tears, but you don’t say a thing. Your eyes soften, a hand trailing up to comb his wet locks between your fingers. You silently respond to his feelings by pecking the tip of his nose.

Mike’s eyes widen for a brief second from the contact, before breaking into the smallest smile. The rare sight made you feel light, as if you were high up in the skies. Your fingers were well beyond pruned by now, but you sink deeper in his embrace.

He continues to hold you in a cradle, leaning in to rest his chin on the crook of your neck. You shiver at the feeling of his stubble against your skin, your fingers carefully clutching him in response. He let out a sigh, his chest falling with his breath.

He always felt like he wasn’t good enough for you, or that he didn’t deserve someone like you — yet, you remain in his arms. He holds you closer, your naked bodies pressed against each other. Knowing you are right here, cupped delicately in his arms is a feeling he’ll never take for granted.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Y/N,” he whispers close to your ear, rocking you ever so subtly in his arms. “I love you so much.”

You soften, mirroring his position, resting your cheek against his neck. You smile, even if he couldn’t see it.

“I love you too, Mike.”

[schmidtsbimbo]

hi! I really enjoyed reading the older bf headcanons for Mike - I was wondering if you could write a fic or hcs of how Mike would try to make it up to the reader after an argument? like angst with hurt/comfort? thanks!

★Mike Schmidt comforting you headcanons★

𖦹 Warnings: slight angst and fluff, GN!Reader no use of pronouns, use of Y/N

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

―୨୧⋆ ˚A/N: this feels so short but its been sitting in my drafts forever im sorry anon☹️ I promise im working on all my other requests and will try to get to them as soon as i can<3 Happy holidays!

This has not been proofread ^_^

Mike Schmidt who almost never gets angry or upset with you. Dealing with Abby has taught him so much and he is oh so patient with you

Mike Schmidt would accidentally lash out at you and instantly regret it as his guilt ridden eyes would land on your hurt expression, making his chest hurt at the sight

Mike Schmidt who would instantly try to make things right and apologize, quickly running towards you before you could leave the room and pulling you into a tight embrace, his hand landing on your lower back as the other is holding the back of your head, his chin resting on your shoulder

Mike Schmidt who would silently and softly sway you side to side as he tries to find the right words to say, he wasn’t the best at apologies but he knew he wouldn’t be able to let this go if he didn’t

Mike Schmidt who plants a kiss on your forehead and leaves his lips there, “I’m sorry, y/n” he’d simply mumble against your skin, “i promise it won’t happen again, ever” he’d continue to mumble, his voice dripping with guilt and shame at the memory of him raising his voice at you

Mike Schmidt who still isn’t able to get over the incident even after you accept his apology and would go above and beyond for you for the rest of the day, not that he doesn’t already do that but now its even more amplified

Mike Schmidt who would offer to cook dinner that night despite how exhausted from work he is, making the occasion extra special by cooking your favorite meal and surprising you with it

Mike Schmidt who would shower you with kisses every chance he got, quite literally kissing you from head to toe and muttering a small “I’m sorry” in between each and every kiss

Mike Schmidt who ends the night with you wrapped up in his arms while you lay in bed, his chin resting on the top of your head as one hand soothingly strokes the back of your head, kissing your forehead every once in a while as you drift off into sleep in his arms

[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!!!!!

[freak-accident419]

Baby Fever

Mike Schmidt x GN!Reader

Summary: You never liked babies. You always believed they were burdensome and irritating. However, after having a baby lay peacefully in your arms, you made the decision—you wanted to raise one with your husband, Mike.

WC: 2.0k

Content: fluff, gender neutral reader, you two use surrogacy for your baby (hence the possibility of a gender neutral reader :3), you’re married to Mike, takes place at least 3-4 years after the events of FNAF, Abby is a working young adult, slightly ooc Mike(?)

-

You always hated babies. Always.

You hated how loud and relentless they were. How almost every second they cried and screamed for no reason, as well as the fact that they were gross, somehow always sticky, and messy. While the fact that they were literally infants gave them an excuse for this behavior, you couldn’t help but be absolutely pissed by them.

You were at a small get-together with your old friends. You haven’t seen them in a while, and you were always close with them before, so you all decided to hang out together one day and catch up with each other.

You were at your friend Andrew’s house, along with the rest of your old friends and had your husband Mike attend as well.

The small party went fairly smoothly; you had some drinks, laughed, caught up, just the usual. Everyone there already knew your husband—who was a bit awkward and quiet—so there wasn’t a need for any introductions. You, however, finally met your friend Evelyn’s girlfriend, which was a great encounter.

You sat beside Mike, his arm tenderly wrapped around your shoulder as you continued to speak with your friends.

Until suddenly, Andrew’s wife, Adalyn, came in the room frantically, with her 3-month-old baby cradled in her arms.

Oh, brother, you thought.

“Hey, uh,” she began, looking around the room until her eyes landed on you. “Oh, Y/n! Can you watch him, please? I kinda gotta go to the little girls’ room.”

Your eyes widened as you realized what she was insinuating. “Wh—Wait, why can’t you ask, like, anybody else?”

“C’mon, Y/n, it’s really urgent. It’s a bit loud here, so just, like, take him to the nursery room,” she pleaded, in which you just continued to refuse.

“But—why can’t—C’mon, Adalyn, Andrew knows how much I can’t… really tolerate babies.” You argue, standing up from the couch. “I don’t—I don’t even know how to hold one—”

“Goddammit, Y/n, here, just—” She guided your arms to make you properly hold the baby, which you were slightly unnerved by. It was way too delicate. You were afraid of this responsibility your friend put onto you. And you felt even worse because of how much you hated babies in general. “There. There, you got it. Good. Okay, I—I gotta go,” she stated quickly, kissing her baby on the forehead, then running off to the bathroom.

You rolled your eyes as you uncomfortably held the infant, looking down at Mike, who remained on the couch. There was a small smirk on his lips. He found it amusing that you were in a situation you’d loathe.

“You think this is funny?”

He shrugged with a playful expression on his face.“Comedy gold.”

You scoffed, and then heard a loud laugh come from the kitchen, only to remember how noisy the atmosphere was. And the last thing you wanted was for this damned baby to start crying.

You looked around then sighed. “I’m gonna have to take this little guy to the nursery room upstairs. You gonna be okay down here without me?”

He smiled softly, giving you a nod. “Yeah. No worries.” You leaned down to give him a peck on the lips which he reciprocated. “Good luck with him. Hey, what’d you call babies again that one time? Wasn’t it ‘hellspawn’?”

You groaned, “Just… shut up, Mike,” but you couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.

You reached the nursery room, shutting the door so that all the voices downstairs were muffled. The baby was fairly heavy, and the staircase was pretty long, so you let out a breath of relief once you finally sat down on a wooden chair beside the baby crib.

You look down at him. Andrew and Adalyn’s baby Thomas. You stared at him with a bit of apathy and indifference, but the infant looked at you with its big, green eyes, almost longingly.

You noticed this, but you didn’t really think too much of it.

“What are you looking at?” You retort quietly.

He met you with silence.

You had him in your arms, cradled, nearly. His eyes continued to stare into yours. He was quiet, too. You couldn’t really tell what it was; curiosity, admiration, inexpressible hatred?—no, it couldn’t be.

It was definitely admiration.

“You think you’re so charming, huh?”

Silence.

“I don’t understand! What’s supposed to be so cute about you? Like, for all I know, you’re just a tiny, undeveloped… thing… person…”

More silence.

“People admire you and all you do is just… burp and cry. I seriously don’t get the appeal.”

However, your arms and your hands began to feel… tingly. You felt warmth radiating from the small baby as it proceeded to lay in your arms. You fixed your position a bit, letting it rest at an angle. Its little body was close to yours, against your chest. And then suddenly, you never felt so… at peace.

“Jesus Christ,” your voice began to become softer and quieter, “What in the damn hell are you doing to me?”

The baby’s green eyes gazed into your eyes, bright and full of adoration. It admired you. You wouldn’t be sure as to why, but it looked at you as if you were beautiful; that even while it barely knew anything at all due to its scarcely developed brain, it was sure of at least just one thing—that you were beautiful.

You felt so strangely warm inside. The orange sunset inhabited the room from the window as you continued to look at the baby in your arms. You felt safe. And you were sure that it felt safe too. And so, all you wanted to do was to keep it that way.

“Your mom shouldn’t be taking this long in the bathroom.” You paused in realization. “They totally set me up, didn’t they?” The infant just blinked at you.

You’ve always hated babies. They’re dumb, loud, and ugly.

But perhaps baby Thomas was an exception.

He was actually pretty cute, if you were going to be honest with yourself…

Babies could be pretty cute…

You never felt so… parental in your life. And for a split second, it didn’t feel like a responsibility, but rather a purpose. You wanted to keep him safe as long as he was under your care. You just wanted to stay like this for a long time. Just having him comfortably in your arms.

And you barely noticed the sound of the door opening and Adalyn and Mike stepping in because you were far too entranced in the domesticity in all of this—you finally understood why some people had baby fever.

“Y/n?” Mike’s presence didn’t even make you flinch. You were far too placid. The state you were in had Mike smitten; he never expected you to be this good, as well as peaceful, with babies.

“Just… Just a little longer with him…” You requested softly, never taking your eyes off of the baby. A love-struck grin appeared on your husband’s face as he watched you like this.

You wanted this.

And most of all, you wanted this with Mike.

***

“What was all that about?” Mike asked as you two sat on the porch outside to get space and air. “I thought you, like, hated babies, and stuff.”

“I don’t… I don’t hate them entirely,” you say under your breath.

Mike raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? You complain about them just about once every week,” he chuckles. His lighthearted manner began to fade as he notices your silence, followed by your face of longing and fidgeting fingers. “You okay?” He placed his hand on your thigh.

“Yeah, I just…” You trailed off, not knowing how to place your words. “Remember how… Abby would sometimes talk about how ‘cool’ it’d be for her to… be an auntie?” Mike nodded, listening carefully. “And, well… you know… in the past I was always against having kids… Being afraid of all that responsibility and commitment… Mostly just despising babies.”

You sighed. “Mike, I… I want us to have a baby.”

His lips parted in surprise—only because he never expected you to want this. You were always against this idea, you’ve talked about it several times in the past. If anything, he didn’t know that the ‘exposure therapy’ that Adalyn planned would’ve driven you to want a baby. “Wait. Seriously?”

You grabbed his hand, gently rubbing your thumb over the back of it. “I don’t know, I just… I think we could do it, you know… start our own little family…”

He looked at your eyes deeply, with love and care.

Mike always wanted this with you. He loved you, that was for sure. He wanted to raise a baby of his own with you, to start a family together and take his relationship with you to the next level. To say the least, he was pretty thrilled by this.

His hands immediately cupped your face to kiss you passionately, lips pressed lovingly to yours. “I would love that so much with you.” He smiled softly at you. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you mutter before interlocking his fingers with yours and meeting his lips once more.

*** Years Later ***

She had his father’s big, brown eyes.

The process was excruciatingly costly, long, but absolutely worth it. You and Mike decided to get a surrogate so that the baby would at least have some of his DNA—otherwise, the other option was to adopt.

You were in the same position as you were years ago: sitting on a chair serenely with a baby snug in your arms.

And just like those years ago, the baby quietly looked into your eyes, lovingly and admiringly. You smiled softly, letting the state of tranquility take over.

She was your entire world. You would do anything for her.

You loved your little girl.

You press a small kiss on her soft forehead, continuing to warmly hold her to your chest as she laid across your arms, supporting her neck and bottom with your hands. It felt good, to have something so precious and innocent in your care.

Mike finally entered the room minutes after, alluding that he came back from dropping off Abby at her work. He grinned warmly, walking towards you, pressed a long, affectionate kiss on your lips, and then a kiss on his daughter’s forehead.

“Do you… think we’re gonna be good parents?” You ask restfully.

“Wait, you’re asking that now?” He raised his eyebrows.

“No, I meant… C’mon, you know what I mean,” you sigh.

“Okay, then yes. I’m sure of it,” he asserted. “You’re gonna be an amazing parent for her, Y/n. We’re going to be amazing parents for her. I’ll do everything I can for her.”

Mike learned about taking care of babies at a very young age because of Abby. So it wouldn’t be too difficult to do it a second time, especially now that he would have you to help. He wanted to make sure that his new daughter would have a better childhood than he had, and he knew he would be extra cautious to ensure that nothing would ever take her away from him. Ever since Garrett, he promised himself to never let that happen to anyone ever again. And you would always assure him that he could keep it.

You look at your husband—the father of your child—dotingly. “I love you so much, Mike.”

“I love you too, baby,” he says before pressing his lips to yours once more.

Then, a soothing beat.

“She has your eyes,” you murmured softly. It was a well-known fact. You both have known this ever since she was brought into this world—it was actually the first thing you two noticed about her. The rich, brown irises that Mike possessed was passed down to your daughter. And while none of your features could be passed down to her, it didn’t matter at all to you. She was still yours. Yours and Mike’s. And you were going to raise her together.

She had her father’s eyes.

And Mike never got tired of being reminded of it, especially by you.

“Yeah… I know.”

[random-fandom-tandem]

Mike Schmidt: Dating Headcanons

Because this guy hasn't left my brain since seeing the movie a few days ago, and I finally broke down and had to do something about it.

18+ only

Minors DNI

GN!Reader

Sweet (SFW):

❤️ Can be a bit overprotective at times. Given that he still blames himself for his brother's disappearance, though, it's understandable. While he doesn't admit it out loud, he's uncertain he could handle it if something terrible happened to you too.

❤️ Having grown accustomed to being up at night, due to his recent security job, on the nights he's off and is able to find someone to watch Abby, he'll sometimes invite you for an evening drive. His hand remains on your thigh nearly the entire time, occasionally giving it a gentle squeeze, as you two sit in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the soft music on the radio.

❤️ Is actually pretty lenient when it comes to what is chosen for movie night. He's more happy to just have some needed downtime with you. Also, cuddling during the movie is almost always guaranteed. (Please give him some, the poor man needs it.)

❤️ Got a little annoyed with you one time after you borrowed his walkman and forgot to swap back the cassette tape to his nature sounds one. Cue him getting startled one night when he turned it to help him sleep, only to be greeted with whatever pop or rock idol you had been listening to beforehand. Being that it was an honest mistake, he couldn't stay mad at you...but he never lent you his walkman ever again. (On the flipside, though, he did gift you one of your own for your birthday.)

Spicy (NSFW):

🔥 When it comes to sex, he typically lasts one round, just because he's often so tired, but he tries his best to make sure it counts. Even if he's exhausted, he will try to make up for it with lots of kisses and soft words.

🔥 Exception being when he's extremely pent up or needs to release some frustration after a bad night at work. During those times, you can expect at least 2-3 rounds out of him. He starts out with a rather quiet intensity, focused on just getting rid of that mounted tension, but the volume of his groans increases the closer he gets to finishing.

🔥 On the mornings when he ends up waking up earlier and doesn't have to go anywhere, he actually enjoys sleepy lovemaking. During those times he just wants to hold you close (and/or to be inside you, if applicable) even if you two don't move very much.

🔥 Expanding on an earlier headcanon, car sex is absolutely a thing. He likes the privacy it offers, and will often just park at some abandoned spot where it can just be you and him, with no outside interruptions. He's barely put the car in park before you are straddling his lap, furiously making out with him and rubbing yourself up against his hardening cock. Next thing you both know, hours have passed. Uh, he didn't need to be at work that night...right?

[xcherryerim]

A Helping Hand

Touch starved Mike x gn!reader | wc: 2.4k

“It will take a while for the scars in my heart to heal, that’s what I believed. At some point, I am in your embrace. You touch my heart baby” — Touch by Miss A

SMUT ONE SHOT | MDNI | +18 ONLY

warning: Friends to lovers | Mike is having an existential crisis | Handjob | Oral sex (only Mike) | Facial | Shower sex | porn without (much) plot | Calling mike a “good boy” | angst

In the warm lit bathroom, illuminated only by a single soft glow of the cheap lightbulb, Mike sat on a plastic chair, his broken leg propped up on a stack of towels. The lukewarm water cascaded over his body, mingling with the salty tears that traced down his pale cheeks.

His eyes, red-rimmed and glistening, pleaded with yours as he whispered, "Please touch me."

For the past few weeks, you'd been there for Mike whenever he needed you. He was once a self-sufficient man who refused help from others, but now that his leg was momentarily immobilized, he found himself at the mercy of those around him. His job not compensating for his leave, coupled with the overwhelming weight of daily struggles, had left him feeling trapped and helpless.

The realization that his life had spiraled out of control weighed heavily on his shoulders. It was one thing to acknowledge the despair, but quite another to confront it head-on with nothing but time on his hands. In this cramped bathroom, surrounded by tiled walls, he felt even smaller, more isolated than ever.

With tenderness and care, you stepped into the shower stall, succumbing to the task of helping Mike bathe despite the challenges posed by his injured leg. As the warm water poured down upon both of you, you began to wash his hair with the specialized shampoo and conditioner, working the suds through his locks with gentle precision.

When you moved onto his back, your fingertips brushed over his tense muscles, tracing the web of pain etched into his skin. Each stroke, each caress seemed to pull at the threads of his empty heart, finally, he couldn't contain it any longer when you stood in front of him, trying to wash his neck and chest. His fragile facade cracked as tears formed into his honey soulless eyes.

Looking at his reddened eyes and the sniffling sounds emanating from his nose, concern washed over you. "Mike, are you alright?" you inquired, worry lacing your words.

"Please touch me," he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just… touch me. Please."

Your heart ached for him, seeing him like this - broken, vulnerable, and begging for human connection. His erection strained against the fabric of his shorts, an unmistakable sign of his need for intimacy.

“I know I'm asking too much, I know I've been a burden with all the favors you've done for me these past few days, but I just—" Mike hesitated, his voice breaking as he struggled to find the right words.

His admission hung in the air between you, thick with guilt and the weight of his burgeoning dependency on your kindness.

With a deep, shuddering breath, he continued, "I just can't take this loneliness any longer."

His confession struck you like a punch to the gut, his vulnerability laying bare the emotional toll his situation had taken on him. You could see the fear lurking in his eyes, the desperate plea for understanding and support. And though a part of you yearned to provide the comfort he sought, you also knew that giving in would only complicate matters further.

Instead, you opted for a different approach, seeking to ease his pain in words rather than touch.

"Mike, I understand how hard this must be for you," you said softly. "But you're not alone, and we'll get through it together. I promise."

Your hand lingered on his shoulder, a tentative gesture of solidarity, offering the smallest measure of comfort without breaching the boundaries of your friendship.

Despite the distance you maintained, you could feel the tension in his frame, the unraveling of his composure under the strain of his emotions.

"You don't find me attractive?" he asked, his voice strained as if the very thought pained him. Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to spill over as he searched your face for answers. "I... I didn't mean to push you, I just..."

Swallowing hard, you replied softly, "It's not that, Mike. It's just... your request would change things between us. Our friendship would never be the same."

Defeat washed over his features, and he shifted his gaze downward, fixating on his length before quickly looking away in embarrassment. "I just want to feel wanted, desired, useful to someone... anything..." he whispered, the depth of his anguish echoing in every word.

"It could be just once," Mike suggested, grasping at any sliver of hope he could find. His hopeful eyes locked onto yours, their pleading depths reflecting the faint light from the bathroom fixture.

His grip on your hand tightened, a silent prayer that you'd consider his desperate proposal. The air grew heavier with his unspoken desires, the weight of his needs bearing down upon both of you in the confined space.

“Our secret.”

You stood there, torn between compassion and conviction, struggling to reconcile the gravity of the situation. It was impossible to ignore the sincerity in his gaze, the raw need for human connection that seemed to emanate from him. Yet, you couldn't shake the sense that giving in would irreparably alter the course of your relationship.

Finally, you managed to find your voice, your tone heavy with uncertainty as you answered, "Mike, I don't think it's a good idea. This isn't something we can undo or ignore later.” Uncertainty lacing your words.

But his grasp on your hand tightened, his pleading gaze never wavering. "I don't want to ignore it. I want you, I truly do. Please, just do this for me." His fingers trailed along your palm, his touch lingering on your skin as he guided it towards his trembling form. When his hand paused at his pelvis, you felt the heat radiating from him, a testament to the turmoil within.

Staring into your eyes, he implored you once more, his voice quivering with the weight of his longing. You could see the torment reflected in his pupils, the raw honesty of his need. And yet, despite the yearning, you knew that giving in would be crossing a line neither of you could return from.

Yet you found yourself drawn to the sight before you: his waterlogged body, the foggy atmosphere, and the haunting desperation in his eyes.

With a shaky breath, you gave in, nodding reluctantly in agreement with his plea. "But, this never happened," you insisted, attempting to impose some semblance of control over the situation.

Slowly, your hand descended to meet his base, the warmth of his skin contrasting with the dampness of the surroundings. Each nerve in your body screamed at you to stop, urging you to reconsider the implications of your actions. But the anguish in his eyes pulled you forward, forcing you to grapple with the reality of his suffering.

Biting your lip, you closed your eyes, swallowing hard as you began to move your hand, knowing full well that this moment would forever change the course of your lives. The steamy air seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the outcome of your decision as the two of you were in the shower, bound by a secret neither of you could escape.

Mike nodded numbly, a silent agreement between you both as he attempted to stifle the rising cries of pleasure. "Thank you," he whispered, his gratitude overshadowed by the raw emotion surging through him.

Watching your hand move delicately over him, he couldn't help but feel the intense mix of shame and ecstasy coursing through his veins.

You steeled yourself against the stirrings of guilt, focusing solely on the task at hand. The water continued to pour over you both, serving as a constant reminder of the fragility of your situation.

As Mike's breath hitched and his eyes rolled back in bliss, you found yourself lost in the dichotomy of his emotions: the gratitude, the shame, and the overwhelming need for connection.

You opened your eyes, catching sight of Mike biting down on his fist, a futile attempt to silence his cries of pleasure. A small, involuntary chuckle escaped you, the sound carrying a hint of tension.

“You can make sounds, it's okay," you reassured him, a tender smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Closing your eyes once more, you hoped that the vivid imagery of their current predicament wouldn't scar your memories.

But the sight of Mike's flushed skin, his eyes tight shut in ecstasy, and the pink length curved around your hand was enough to dispel any remaining reservations. To your surprise, your grip tightened around him, your movements becoming more assured, more passionate. The water continued to fall, oblivious to the shift in dynamics between you both.

"Fuck!" Mike groaned, gripping your wrist and urging you to increase your pace. His gratitude shone brightly in his eyes as he spoke. "Thank you."

Nodding in agreement, you positioned yourself between his legs, the steamy environment providing little privacy in this intimate encounter.

Mike's head shook slightly, his eyes cast downward in a display of vulnerability. "You don't have to do this, It's okay." His voice trembled, tinged with shyness.

A smirk played across your lips. "Be a good boy and take what I give you," you instructed playfully, wrapping your hand around him once more. Your tongue danced around his tip, drawing a startled whimper from him.

"I'll be a good boy! I'll be a good boy!" he cried out, his words punctuated by gasps of pleasure.

His moans filled the bathroom, a testament to the newfound intimacy that had consumed you.

As you continued, the boundaries between friends and lovers blurred, leaving no room for regret or hesitation. Every touch, every movement was driven by an unspoken understanding, born of necessity and longing.

This time, you engulfed him fully, relishing in the way his body shuddered under your touch. It seemed as if he teetered on the edge of release, his cries growing louder and more fervent.

His hand reached back, gently guiding your head to him, a combination of shyness and desperation etched in his expression. Over time, his grip tightened, urging you to accept more of him, hungry for the sensation.

Your heart raced, the consequences of your actions weighing heavily on your mind. But the hunger in his eyes, the pleading earnestness in his touch, made it difficult to resist.

"You take me so good..." Mike murmured, locking gazes with you as he succumbed further to his desire. His appreciation was palpable, the praise you offered striking a chord in his soul.

In response, you slowed your movements, meeting his eyes as you whispered, "And you feel so good in my mouth." The compliment sparked a blush and a small, grateful smile on his face. Praise – an elixir for his wounded heart.

The water continued to rain down on you both, rendering the bathroom a sacred chamber of vulnerable admissions and simmering passions. In this cramped space, the two of you were stripped bare, submerged in a maelstrom of shifting emotions and escalating pleasures. The boundary between friend and lover had vanished, replaced by a new territory where your instincts governed your actions.

Mike's breathing quickened, the anticipation of release building within him. And though you knew this moment was fraught with consequence, there was an undeniable pull toward the ecstasy that lay just beyond the horizon.

"Can I...?" Mike stammered, his voice trembling and hoarse. After collecting himself, he asked hesitantly, "Can I come on your face or, your body?"

"You're close?" you inquired, unable to hide the curiosity from your tone.

"Yeah, I couldn't last that long with you... you know," he admitted, flustered. Taking a deep breath, he hastily added, "Sorry, I wanted to last longer." Embarrassment colored his features, but his eyes beseeched you to understand.

Mike's apology lingered in the air, but you dismissed it with a gentle wave of your hand, recognizing the power of your connection. Despite the enormity of what was happening between you, the bond that once existed seemed to transform, adapting to the new landscape of emotions and desires.

His release drew near, every twitch and moan drawing you closer to the precipice. The water continued to pour, its relentless cadence echoing the intensity of the situation. And while the implications of your actions weighed heavily on your mind, the thrall of the present moment beckoned you, the two of you locked in an intricate dance of surrender and acceptance.

Finally, Mike released a strained cry, using the last of his strength to guide his release onto your face. It painted your skin, marking you with the evidence of his passion, only to be washed away by the endless stream of water. In that brief moment of shared ecstasy, the room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the outcome.

Then, without warning, Mike hauled you in for a kiss – a desperate, yearning embrace that had years of suppressed feelings woven into it. His lips pressed against yours, a testament to the depth of your connection. The water continued its steady descent, but you barely noticed as you were consumed by the weight of the moment.

As the echo of Mike's cry faded, you found yourselves frozen in the aftermath, clinging to each other like shipwrecked sailors finding solid ground. The reality of your actions bore down on you, a stark reminder of the journey you had just embarked upon. Yet amid the chaos, there was a strange sense of calm, the two of you buoyed by the shared experience that would forever bind you together.

Mike reached for the loofah hanging on the wall, extending it to you between gasps for air.

"You didn't do my back right," he panted, half-joking.

Rolling your eyes, you rose to your feet, a soft chuckle escaping you. "Asshole," you muttered, taking the loofah and moving behind him. As you carefully scrubbed his back, you couldn't help but study the contours, each mole a tiny piece of art etched onto his skin.

"We seriously need to find you a partner or a sneaky link," you sighed, the gravity of your recent exchange weighing heavily on your mind.

"Or maybe a friend with benefits?" Mike countered, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

You considered his suggestion briefly, a faint smile playing on your lips. "Maybe," you agreed, the idea hovering between laughter and contemplation.

The water continued to flow, washing away the remnants of your uncertainty and hesitation. The room felt charged with the knowledge of what had transpired, yet there was a strange comfort in the weight of it all. Your hands moved gently over his back, the loofah a buffer between the new reality and the old normalcy.

my dumbass forgot the taglist bro: @freak-accident419 @joshhutchersonsgf @valreanakuroo @cassiecasluciluce @jhutchismyl0verb0y

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Wool Over My Eyes

Mike Schmidt x GN!Reader

Summery: Mike always says you have such trouble getting up in the morning. You don't intend to take so long to wake, but Mike is quite confident the solution lays just at his fingertips- and lips.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no use of gendered pronouns, no genitalia specification, light bondage, pet names, dirty talk, fingering, oral (reader recieving), cum swallowing, morning sex, light breeding kink, recording sex, dacryphillia, light choking, sub! Mike, dom! Reader, facial, age-gap, interrupted sex.

Notes: GOD, I FINALLY FUCKING WROTE. I'm not even gonna blab, just read this shit.

▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

"C'mere here, sweet thing."

Keep reading

[coriolantha]

‧˚₊•୨ Patience ୧•‧₊˚⊹

mike schmidt x GN! reader

summary: mike comforts you after you've had a long day₊˚⊹:˚｡⋆୨୧˚

tags: fluff, mike being a sweetheart (as always), anxiety, reader has bad self image, insecurities, reader is overwhelmed and needs a break (so real), hugging, cuddling, comfort

wc: 1.1k

notes: hii this is my first fic i've posted on here. ngl i'm... scared. im not proud of this but i can't scrap it this time otherwise i'm never gonna get anything posted LMAO. please leave any criticism in the comments if you'd like, feel free to share any opinions, i want to improve the quality of my writing! thank you sm for reading! 🫶

today has been punishing.

rain trickled down the foggy window, making soft tapping sounds as they hit and fell, reluctantly racing down to gather in the weep holes. the rough, scratchy carpet beneath you beginning to burn as you shuffled around your desolate home.

exhausted, you gave up trying to distract yourself from your main task; your bedroom.

your eyes darted around your cluttered room, glossing over as you noticed every individual piece of clothing that wasn't hung up, organized, and neatly put away. you began to have a headache thinking about where to even begin. you felt like a filthy slob, your surroundings perfectly reflecting how you've felt all day.

you flicked the lights off, the warmly lit room now becoming pitch black, except for the small gleam of light that came through the open door. you sat on your bed, absentmindedly kicking your various pants and t-shirts away from you to give yourself some room to lay down.

mike wouldn't be back home for a while now. it was only 12:45am, which gave you 5 hours and 25 minutes to attempt to sleep before having to get ready for your office job... which would leave little to no time to spend with mike.

fuck mondays.

turning over to your side, you hugged your knees, shivering. no amount of blankets could fix how cold you felt. the truth was, you missed your boyfriend; longing for his cozy hugs and soft, gentle kisses he'd press against your cheek as he consoled you.

you missed him more than anything in the world.

with a blink, the tears that have been collecting in your eyes came down your flushed face at once. laying there, you accepted your pitiful reality, slowly drifting off into unwanted slumber, in solitude.

the time was around 2am when you felt a dip into the bed. panicking, you quickly awoke, shuffling to sit up as fast as possible. although you didn't know of the time, something felt off. mike wasn't supposed to be home yet, that's for sure.

panic turned into confusion as you heard mike, obviously feeling guilty for having jumpscaring you so badly.

"oh, shit- baby, it's me," he whispered apologetically, reaching his hand out to cup your cheek. turning on the dim lamp, he quickly turned back to face you. his eyes bore into yours, scanning to make sure you were going to be alright.

all day he was desperate to see your face, even after his shorter-than-usual-shift. mike couldn't get enough of your perfection, although you always brushed him off whenever he ever mentioned this to you.

he noticed your terrified expression which started to wear off, beginning to blend into relief.

"it's just me... you don't need to worry about anything, okay? i'm right here, no one's gonna hurt you," he muttered, leaning over to press a chaste kiss on your lips, lingering longer than usual.

weight lifted off your shoulders as you began to put pieces together. now, all you needed was an answer to your burning question.

"mike, why did you come home so early? did something happen?" you asked anxiously, looking right back at your boyfriends affectionate, adoring eyes.

"oh, sweetheart..." he soothed, "i got let out early today. nothing worth worrying about. i guess they didn't need me as much as i thought they did," he let out a quick, dry laugh, shaking his head dismissively.

"fuck, i've missed you all day, i'm so damn glad i could leave that job early. anything to see you, my love," he cooed, brushing a strand of hair out of your face, delicately tucking it behind your ear

you were in awe; it was a miracle he came home early, especially today. you were fighting to hold your tears back, mouth quivering as you bit your bottom lip. mike noticed your change in emotion immediately.

"hey hey hey," he whispered urgently, quickly grabbing your hand and giving it a light squeeze, "what's wrong?" his voice drowned in concern.

"i did nothing all day. the only thing i've done is just stand around and... thought of doing something, but i couldn't. i was so tired, but of what? like, why didn't i clean our room? and the worst part is, you have to come home, tired as hell, ready to go to sleep, only to see your messy room and your partner who still hasn't done anything about it," you quavered, sniffling softly as warm tears fell from your eyes.

mike said nothing, but you could sense how hurt he felt after you talked so badly about yourself. he sighed, laying down on the plush mattress. he patted his chest, inviting you to rest your head there. you did so immediately, closing your eyes as you listened closely to his heart beat.

"you know i love you, right?" he asked gently. you stayed quiet, knowing he wasn't expecting an answer.

"i love everything about about you. but the only thing i don't love is how badly you talk of yourself. i hate it. it doesn't make any sense to me," he stressed, stroking your hair soothingly.

"so what if our room is messy? i don't think about that when i come home. all i think about is how i can finally be with you. i'm not going to let some clothes on the floor get in the way of us, ever. or anything, in fact."

you nodded in agreement silently, your tears dry on your cheeks.

"we can tackle this room together. we can do this however you want- i can pick up your clothes while you organize them into whichever area they go to, and i'll pick up my clothes too, but you won't have to organize that, i'll take care of it. how does that sound?" he asked delicately.

you instantly felt a huge weight lift off your shoulders.

"thank you so much, mike. you don't know how much i needed you today," you exhaled, "really."

he looked down lovingly at you, curled up beside him. he kissed your head tenderly, rubbing up and down your back.

goosebumps spread across your arms. you felt so loved and safe.

"the real question is," you suddenly asked, "how are you so perfect? were you made in a factory or something?"

"says you," he laughed, holding you tighter.

the two of you basked in the love you had for one another for a while. no words were exchanged, only him occasionally rubbing his thumb against your arm, while you began to doze off, which caught his attention.

"want me to turn the light off?"

you nodded, wrapping your arm around his stomach.

he turned over once more, pulling the cord of the lamp light, the room now pitch black.

"i love you," he whispered, turning to his side a little more so he could be pressed closer against you.

"i love you too, mike. always," you mumbled back, the two of you drifting off to sleep.

₊˚⊹:˚｡⋆₊୨୧₊˚⊹:˚｡⋆₊

dividers by @f-loqweres 🫶

[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!

[g0ry0re0]

"Valentine", Mike Schmidt (Five Nights At Freddy's, 2023, Film) - Imagine

Description: You and Mike take the day off for Valentine's Day, spending quality time with one another. / Mike Schmidt x GN!Reader

General Notes: Established Relationship (reader lives with Mike and Abby), Gender Neutral Reader (no use of Y/N), Pure Fluff, Second Person POV, Takes Place After The Film's Events (no mention of movie plot, mostly just mentioned for the character and relationship development), Set In The Movie Year (2000), Brief Scene With Abby In The Beginning, Lots Of Physical Touch

Author's Note: The song choice is soooo not original lol, but I love Laufey and had to do something really cute for Valentine's Day (song is linked at the bottom of the post). This was also heavily inspired by a tweet from @/whycraves on twitter (screenshot at bottom of post). Also, my best friend, @anal-spaghetti-monster (I'm sorry lol) helped me choose the gif for Mike! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: The morning before posting this, I read @sleepyhutcherson's Mike Schmidt Valentine's Day prompt and noticed a lot of similarities. I just want to throw it out there that this is purely a coincidence and that I reached out to her to confirm that posting this was still okay. Besides that, check out her work as well, as she did an amazing job with a similar prompt!

Word Count: 1,693 Words

"Alright, Abbs, you got everything?" Mike turns around in the car seat to face her.

Your car is temporarily parked by the elementary school curb with a handful of others, you're sitting in the driver's seat and looking back and forth between your boyfriend and his younger sister. This was one of the rare days you and Mike could drop her off at school together, as you had both taken the day off work. The three of you spent an easy-going morning together, not as hectic as it usually is when trying to get ready as fast as possible for work and school. Mike in particular had woken up early and made a small breakfast for you and Abby. He woke you up with coffee and Abby with the promise of bacon, causing you both to rise quickly out of your beds and immediately join him in the kitchen. The time was spent enjoying each other's company and getting ready leisurely before heading out the door.

Abby rolls her eyes playfully and smiles. "Yes, Mike."

You smile as well and add, "Sounds like something you should've asked before we even got in the car. Definitely not when we're already at school."

It's Mike's turn to roll his eyes, but he quickly looks back at Abby.

"And you have your...love- heart candy letter things for your friends?"

"They're Valentine's Day cards, Mike! And, yes," she shakes a pink and red decorated, emptied-out, tissue box filled with cards and candy. "I have them right here."

Before Mike can even think about a response, Abby opens the car door excitedly and jumps out, shouting her goodbyes while running to the school entrance. Mike tries to yell something out the window about staying safe and paying attention to her teacher, but Abby is inside before he can try. You laugh while putting the car in drive and pulling out of the parking lot, Mike still flustered and slightly worried.

"She- she didn't even...I didn't get to-" Mike stutters out, speechless.

"Mike," You laugh again. "She's excited about Valentine's Day and seeing her friends. Can you blame her?" You glance at him, smiling before turning back to the road and continuing your short drive home.

Mike grumbles unintelligibly and looks out the window, but still grabs your free hand that's set on the center console and squeezes it lightly.

Getting out of the car causes a harsh chill to run through your body pulling your jacket around the front of your torso while closing the car door. Mike pulls out his keys and quickly opens up the front door, both out of anticipation for your day together and to get you both out of the cold as soon as possible. You rush in side by side, slightly stumbling and sighing as the warmth of your shared home dethaws your frozen bodies. Mike locks the door and watches you fondly as you remove your scarf, your gloves, your coat, and finally your shoes, leaving them by the front door. Not going unnoticed by you, you smirk while walking towards the living room.

"You're staring again, lover boy." You comment teasingly, walking around the couch and plopping down.

Mike blushes, a little embarrassed, but smiling at the nickname. He removes his excess layers as well, following you to the couch shortly after. He sits directly beside you and wraps one arm around your shoulders, the other snaking around your front, then burying his face into your neck.

A muffled, "I can't help it," vibrates against your neck while Mike rubs his thumb along your hip.

You lean into Mike's embrace, laughing a bit at his breath tickling your neck. He pulls you closer and starts peppering kisses along your neck, the act of affection making you giggle as you lightly try to push him away playfully.

"Mike, come on." You whine, weakly pushing at his face this time, trying to turn him away.

"What? I can't kiss you, my love?" He speaks against your throat again, his smile causing his stubble to scratch your skin a little bit.

You resign, defeatedly leaving your hands to rest on his chest and sighing out of fake annoyance. He leaves quick, gentle kisses along your neck, collarbone, shoulder, and trails up your jaw. Getting closer to your lips, he brings his hand up from your waist to cup your cheek, He finally presses his lips against yours sweetly, the most innocent of kisses, Mike's signature. He was pouring every ounce of his love into this one kiss, taking his time, lips moving slowly against yours. His thumb now softly grazes your cheek as he pulls away a few minutes later. He's got kind of a shy look on his face when you open your eyes.

"I got you something...for today." He whispers, glancing up from your lips to make eye contact.

"You did?" You inquire back, looking up affectionately, but feeling a slight twinge of guilt. "You didn't have to do that."

Mike gives you one final peck on the lips before pulling away. He stands up, grinning.

"Gimme one sec- " He says right before turning and walking down the hallway to your shared room.

You both had anticipated spending the day together, but you didn't expect any gifts. You loved Mike to death, but sometimes you never knew what to expect from him. All that really mattered to you was spending time together, which you didn't get to do often despite living together. If you were lucky, you got to spend time with both the Schmidt siblings, like this morning. Today was about you and Mike, though, and all you wanted to do was cuddle and talk each other's ears off until you couldn't think of anything else to say. Lost in thought, you barely notice as Mike walks back to you, holding a small object. He sits back down next to you, bringing your attention back to him. His body facing you, he smiles nervously and rubs his hand on the back of his neck.

"It's not much, but..." He trails off, holding out the item and presenting it to you.

You look down and your heart melts. In his hand is a cassette tape with your name scrawled on the front. You beam up at him while grabbing the tape, and then you look at your name written in the center. You can tell Mike put a lot of effort into printing your name as nicely as his hands allowed him to, noticing also the miscellaneous tiny, slightly sloppy, hearts surrounding it. You hold the cassette to your chest and look back up at him.

"Michael Schmidt, did you make me a mixtape?" You ask playfully.

He loved hearing you say his name. You can see a light blush spread across his face as he smiles shyly, his hand still anxiously messing with the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I tried- well, it's got, like, songs that remind me of you and stuff. Songs that remind me of us," he stammers, bashfully looking down at the tape. "Do you like it?"

He looks back up at you hopefully, using his other hand to nervously pull at the bottom of his shirt. You smirk and stand up, still clutching the cassette to your chest.

"Well, let's see..." You trail off, teasingly, walking across the living room to the cassette deck near the entertainment center.

A familiar song begins to play and you smile softly now. You turn towards Mike and walk back to the couch, standing over him. He looks up at you quizzically before you reach your hand out to him.

"Wanna dance?"

He looks slightly relieved and grabs your hand, standing up and pulling you to the center of the room. One pair of hands intertwined, his other on your waist, your other on his shoulder. You stare at one another lovingly, almost sickeningly sweet the moment being shared. The tempo of the song didn't matter, you both slowly swayed back and forth, taking in the tranquility of the scene. You squeeze his hand and he squeezes back, rubbing his thumb over yours.

"No one's ever made me a mixtape before," you comment distractedly, most of your focus being on Mike's puppy dog eyes that you loved so dearly. "it's definitely worth however much time you spent on it. When did you get a chance to do this anyway?"

A lopsided smile appears on his face.

"A little too much time," he laughs a little. "And I put it together while you were sleeping the other night. Though, most of the time I spent was thinking of songs to put on it. That took me a few weeks."

You move the hand that was resting on his shoulder up to cup his cheek. Mike leans into your touch and closes his eyes, humming in contentment. You lean forward and capture his lips in a quick kiss, his eyes fluttering in pleasant surprise, kissing you back. You pull away, using the hand holding his face as leverage to start peppering kisses all over his face. You go from the corner of his lips, to his stubbled cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his chin, and finally back to his lips. He smirks knowingly and opens his eyes to look at you.

"What are you doing, love?"

"Paying you back for earlier," you smirk back at him, pinching his cheek before resuming your hand's previous position. "And for the amazing Valentine's Day gift."

You take both of your hands now and place them on the sides of his face. His eyebrows furrow but he's still smiling, both of his hands now placed on your hips to keep you both balanced. You start placing soft, quick smooches everywhere now. Rapidly placing kisses all over his face, causing you both to laugh, smiling against his skin. Your laughter in unison with the music playing sounds like heaven to Mike, knowing that moments like these are rare. Though treasuring the moment, both of you feel tenderness in knowing more memories like these will happen as your merged existences face what everyone craves more of, time.

Masterlist Link

Divider: saradika and saradika-graphics on tumblr

Gif: charlie-eppes-blog on tumblr

[dorkszn]

⋆˚✩ post fnaf movie mike headcanon

nsfw warning!! bad writing warning 😭

since mike has made with peace with his brother’s kidnapping, he didn’t really need the nature noises (he still needs the medication sometimes.) but sleeping in silence felt too weird for him, it felt off. he couldn’t stand to sit in the quiet with his thoughts.

to help him, you suggest that he find something else to listen to and then try to move away from it gradually.

mike being the perv that he is, he jokes about recording you guys while he was fucking both your brains out and listening to that. you rolled your eyes at him, not knowing how serious he was.

now, mike (sometimes) falls asleep to sounds of you moaning and crying out his name.

+ the times he doesn’t fall asleep is because he gets turned on from the audio.

[schmidtkisser]

hi there!! i just want to say that i absolutely loved your first fic, it was beautiful! regarding prompt suggestions, could you perhaps do something like the reader helping mike get a restful night's sleep following the events of the movie? no pressure ofc!!

Nightly Lullaby

pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader

word count: 1.8k

synopsis: mike has trouble sleeping due to the anxiety of dreaming the same memory he has trained his brain for over the past few years. after tucking abby into bed, you help mike finally sleep comfortably for once.

content: established relationship between you and mike, 2nd person pov, comfort, fluff, domestic fluff, love language: physical touch, insomniac mike, fnaf movie spoilers (story takes place after the events of the movie), you babysit abby, you sing them to sleep

a/n: thank u anon for the rq! this was so fun to write and was such a cute prompt to work with <3 hope i did it justice

★彡★彡★彡

It had been about a week or two since Mike resigned from being a security guard at a run-down, haunted pizzeria.

You heard all about it from Mike himself. The history of the place, the owner, animatronics possessed by the ghosts of dead children, his past with Garrett — everything. It was hard to believe at first, but the sincerity in his tone, as well as the fact that Mike wasn’t the kind of person to lie to you, led you to believe everything he claimed was true.

You could barely imagine everything he had to go through. Losing his little brother, his parents, having a difficult time finding a job, all while in the process of almost losing custody of his sister. Though he seemed to be struggling less now that it was all over, you couldn’t help but notice his struggle with sleep ever since then.

Mike always relied on a nightly routine to help him sleep up until a week ago. He told you about the dream theory, and how he’d stare at a Nebraska poster while listening to nature noises on a walkman.

The part that concerned you the most was his reliance on sleeping pills. You couldn’t even begin to describe the relief you felt when he admitted that he was ready to stop using them every night. But now, as a result of the sudden routine change and the lack of pills, he had a hard time falling asleep.

—

He leans against his sister’s doorframe, his arms folded as he watches you with half-lidded eyes. You always tuck Abby into bed after a long day, pulling the comforter over her shoulders before you give her a small forehead kiss. A little conversation exchange would occur, before she would ask a small request from you.

“Can you hum me a song again?” Abby asks, her brown eyes sparkling with anticipation. The simple routine following up to the nightly lullaby works like a charm. She’ll be asleep in no time. “They help me sleep. And you always do it better than Mike.”

You can’t help but scoff a small laugh at the stab at Mike, glancing over at him to see his reaction. He playfully rolls his eyes at you two, before continuing to observe you both.

You look back at Abby, who is hiding her obvious smile beneath the duvet covers. Your eyes soften at her, your hand reaching down to pet her head, before you begin to hum a simple, yet effective lullaby as she requested. She listens intently, her eyes beginning to flutter shut within the first minute or so of your hum.

Though, she wasn’t the only one listening to the sweet song. Mike’s ears tune into your delicate crooning, yawning quietly as he leans himself forward. He adores the soft rumble from your throat, how it strung itself together into a beautifully crafted lullaby. He thinks you sound angelic despite not singing a single word. He can feel his heart pick up a beat as he listens. He feels his eyes grow heavier, his head beginning to nod off as he feels himself begin to drift.

But the lullaby ends almost as quickly as it began. You pull away from Abby, her soft snores slipping out in purrs; she’s out like a light. Your lips curl into a little smile when you observe her, slowly lifting yourself off of her bed as your attention shifts to Mike, who is in the most exhausted state you’ve ever seen him in. The poor man looks like he’s about to fall over any second.

You make your way over to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. The sudden contact wakes him up, his eyes widening slightly in surprise as he looks at you. His cheeks flush with warmth from how close you are, not to mention the comforting feeling of your arm wrapped around him. It made him want to melt, thinking you feel much warmer compared to any blanket he’s ever used.

“Come on, Mike,” you whisper, guiding him forward. You quietly close Abby’s door as the two of you leave the room. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods, trying his best not to drag his feet across the floor as you walk him to his bedroom. He feels heavy as he leans against you, his exhaustion making itself present with every passing second.

Making your way inside the room, you close the door behind you with the heel of your foot. You walk him to his bed while you keep him close to you. The cold air nips at your skin, and you can feel Mike shiver against you too. You reach over to click his lamp on, the warm light illuminating the room. He murmurs your name softly as you both take a seat on his mattress with a creak.

“There, there,” you rub a hand up his back. Your eyes gaze down at him, noticing even the slightest few details about him. His furrowed brows, the little frown pursed on his lips, and most notably; the dark eye bags dusted beneath his eyes. The sight saddens you. He really hasn’t slept a wink in the past week.

He casts his eyes up at you, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist as he pulls you closer. To him, it feels like having a teddy bear in his arms — something he hadn’t really felt since the loss of his childhood. The thought gets him emotional, and he attempts to hide the sudden flood of emotions welling in his face by nuzzling himself against your neck. His fingers slowly clutch onto the fabric of your shirt.

“I don’t want to dream anymore,” he utters. “Things are fine now but, what if I dream about that again, you know? I mean, I trained my brain to think of the same memory every night.” There was a slight crack in his voice, his clutch growing tighter. “Y/N, I know it sounds stupid, but I just…”

“…It’s not stupid. None of it is.” You hush him gently. Your hand trails over to his shoulder, the other reeling him in for a warm hug. You can feel his tense body begin to calm as he takes control of his breathing. The comfort of your embrace never fails to ease him. “I can’t imagine being in your position, but sudden change is difficult. I just want you to know that I’m always here for you, Mike.”

Your tone stumbled slightly as you spoke. It came out cornier than you wanted it to, and you felt your face heat up a little in embarrassment. His silence following your words scares you into a small pit of self-doubt. Did you say the wrong thing? Was it even helpful? You nervously nibble at your lower lip, waiting for any kind of response.

Then, you feel a small, amused huff against the skin of your neck, followed by a little nod from him. The fingers clutching your shirt loosened slightly, but he still kept a grasp on you. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You let out a sigh of relief, cradling Mike in your arms. Your lips curl up into a smile, pulling away from the hug just slightly to look at him again. His brows weren’t furrowed anymore, and you can even see a hint of a smile on his face.

You cup his cheek with the palm of your hand, exchanging a sudden, yet loving kiss between you two. The kiss catches him off guard, but he eases into it quickly. You savour the tender feeling of his lips, the warmth of his cheek against your palm, how he kissed back with the same amount of love in his gesture.

Oh, how he makes you melt.

You pull away at the same time, taking a breath as you look longingly into each others’ eyes. Your thumb brushes gently against the corner of his lip, your palm feeling every inch of his stubble. He leans into your touch, and you can’t help but think that he resembles a puppy with the way he looks at you. He closes his eyes, nuzzling against your palm with a yawn. Your eyes soften, beginning to realise how tired you’ve gotten also.

“Bed time?” You whisper. He nods silently in response.

You draw back from the intimate cuddles to tuck him into bed. He feels your absence, and you feel it too, despite the fact that you were just a foot away from him.

He brings himself down onto his bed, resting his head against the feather-filled pillow. You carefully pull the comforter over his body, providing him with warmth against the cold air circulating in the room. He was just about ready to pass out, but his fingers clasp at the rim of your shirt.

“Can you sleep here, with me?” He croaks, turning his eyes away from you. “Please.”

Initially, you were planning to drive home after he went to bed, but you couldn’t help but soften at his request. You were growing too tired to drive safely anyway. You click his lamp off, the room getting swallowed in darkness, with the moonlight peaking through the slits of the blinds. “I can.”

You crawl into the empty spot on the bed next to him, sinking yourself beneath the covers. His bed was far more comfortable than you could imagine, and the faint scent of him has you sinking in deeper.

He rolls over to lie on his side, facing you as his arms snake around your waist again. You do the same, enveloping him in your embrace. He rests his face against your chest with a lazy hum. As he listens intently to the beat of your heart, he thinks of a small, though embarrassing request.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mmm?”

“Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t.”

He pulls you in closer, your bodies intertwining. “Can you hum me a song?” He murmurs. “Like you do with Abby.”

The question catches you off guard. You should’ve expected it, yet it still surprised you — but not in a bad way. Deep down, you knew he felt a bit embarrassed for asking you to sing him to sleep. He is a grown man, after all, not a child like Abby.

Yet, you carry no judgement, cradling him in your arms as you accept his request. It was better than listening to a nature tape on loop, or the dead silence of the house, after all.

You begin to hum for him, your lips pressed together as you craft a tune for him to nod off to. He pays close attention to every note, to the rise and fall of your chest when you croon, to how your voice would bounce off the walls back to you two. With every passing second, he can feel his eyes grow heavier. In the comfort of your arms and the sweet sound of your song, he finally lulls off to a deep, peaceful sleep.

You can feel his body relax against yours, and his soft breaths hit against the skin of your chest as he falls into a slumber. You slowly wrap up the song, keeping him in your hold as you nuzzle the top of his head. You smile to yourself, your heart full of tenderness and warmth, whispering for one last time tonight.

“Goodnight, Mike.”

[doyounggers]

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

[dragcnbreak]

AHHH THE AGE REGRESSION ONES R SO CUTE I NEED MORE!!!!! maybe one where reader is having like a breakdown/ptsd flashback which results in them regressing involuntarily and mike comforts them? could be headcanons or a fic idrc :3

IM SO GLAD PEOPLE GET THE CG MIKE VISION… here is my attempt at writing something along those lines!!! I hope u enjoy nonnie <3

◞♡࿐

The Schmidt household was practically a second home to you. You crashed on the couch more often than not and even had a drawer full of your things in Mike’s room for easy access. Your living situation was less than ideal and you felt more comfortable with Mike and Abby than anyone else so it just worked out.

That’s how you found yourself outside their door one morning, knowing it would be just Mike at the house as Abby had already left for school. You used your key and offered a shaky smile to the sleepy man on the couch. “Hey.” He says at first, taking a few seconds to look up at you. When he finally does, his eyes widen at the tears running down your cheeks and he rushes towards you.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Mike asks, using his thumb to wipe under your eyes. You don’t answer but instead, you start to sob loudly. He’s definitely awake now, all his attention on you. He helps you the best he can to the couch so you can sit down. The second he sits down with you, you fling yourself into his arms and continue your breakdown.

Mike is quick to hold you, rubbing your back softly and whispering soothing things like “it’ll be okay” and “I’ve got you”. It helps more than he knows and the both of you sit there for what seems like hours.

When you begin to quiet down, you detach yourself from him and rub at your eyes. “Are you feeling any better?” Mike asks you and you nod lazily, a sudden tiredness washing over you. “T’ank you, Mikey.” The slurring and the nickname alerts Mike to the fact that sometime during your crying session, you slipped into littlespace.

You didn’t age regress too often, specifically around Abby. But Mike was always more than happy to take care of you when you did, especially when you were sad. “Of course, baby,” he uses his favorite nickname for you when you’re in that headspace, “how about we get you something to eat and drink and then you go take a nap?” He continues.

You nod again, “m’kay.” The idea of eating doesn’t sound too bad and you know you need to stay hydrated, even more so after crying. Mike grabs the television remote and turns on Abby’s favorite channel with all the cartoons. He gives you a kiss on your forehead and then hurries to the kitchen.

He and Abby had just had breakfast so he heats up the remaining pancakes and bacon, periodically checking on you. He slathers the pancakes with butter like he knows you like it and also cuts them up. Mike then delivers them to you on a plate.

You lighten up a bit at the food, starting to dig in as he goes to get you a glass of water. He comes back and sets it on the table in front of you. Before too long, you’ve finished your food and water and are back rubbing your eyes tiredly again.

“How about that nap?” Mike offers with a knowing smile. You nod and make grabby hands, indicating you want to be picked up. The man isn’t the most built but he works out enough to easily pick you up, knowing how much you like it when he does. You wrap your arms around his neck while he holds your thighs not too tight.

In a few seconds, you’re in Mike’s room and he deposits you carefully on his bed. He tucks you in so you’re nice and safe and comfortable. He’s about to turn away when you stop him. “Can we cuddle, please?” You ask and he already knows he’s not going to say no. He hums and slips into the bed, fortunately already in comfortable wear.

In the bed, you turn to face the wall opposite the door and Mike catches on, wrapping you up in his arms. Before he knows it, you and him fall asleep even with the sun peeking through the blinds at you both.

◞♡࿐

this was kinda therapeutic to write because ive been going through a tough time myself :( tysm for the request <3

[freak-accident419]

thinking about derek danforth doing coke off of reader’s body 😳

update: I WROTE THE FIC —> High On You

[crypticcowboys]

mike schmidt just cannot stop looking at you. (no warnings, it's fluff.)

mike was never one to hold eye contact with people— at-least, not until he learned that in adulthood his employers would very likely think he was an absolute fucking weirdo, or think he didn't care about the jobs he absolutely needed, so he had to learn to force himself to hold eye contact with his peers. he could hold eye contact with abby the easiest— considering that was his little sister. but with you, it's more than just holding your gaze. it's the fact that he can't look away from it.

it was harder when you two first met, obviously. but it was a little bit easier as you two got closer, step by step, until you two became inseparable. his avoided eye contact was no longer really intentional, only when he was deep in thought, before he'd turn his attention right back to you. and then he started holding your eye contact, not even looking away once you did. he had to pry his eyes off of you, most times. he stopped caring about his staring problem eventually.

mike woke up before you, always. it wasn't easy for him to sleep in the first place— the ambien not doing much to really keep him asleep— he always woke up with a start right after the reoccurring dream, before going right back to sleep and doing it all over again. but your face met his each time, and he'd drink in your sleeping form, his eyes absorbing every single detail on your face, like he was imprinting it into his mind. and if he was just too tired to keep his eyes open, or it was too dark in the room, he'd wander his hands over your cheeks, envisioning the face he memorized long ago. that's what'd lure him back to sleep, each time.

mike who starts to tear up every-time he looks at you for a bit too long. you just look so beautiful, he doesn't know what to do with it. close is never close enough with you— he can never hold you close enough. some days, he cups your cheeks and just stares at you, such longing in his eyes, it has you flustered as you turn your head away, before he's redirecting you with the softest "no, look a'me. please". you've ever heard.

some days, mike is so afraid that if he stops staring at you, you'll slip from his fingers just like garrett and everything else besides abby in his life has. so he drinks you in as much as he can, because if he ever loses you, he'd never forgive himself if he forgot what you looked like.