#yandere mike schmidt

[janitorhutcherson]

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt

surprise, bitches!!! im giving yall a lil taste of some more writing. im not really on hiatus (obvi, i post every 5 minutes) but i've been sooooo busy that i haven't been able to post half as much. with that being said, here are some more in depth headcanons ab yandere!mike. :p could not have done this without @futturmand literally helping me (coming up w/) most of these. thank u bae.

warnings: drugging, violence, sex, daddy kink, abusive tendencies

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olderbfyandere!mike schmidt was kinda an asshole. to his coworkers, random customers at the mall, anybody who came too close to you, and yes, even sometimes to you. he was the kind of guy who had a semi-permanent grimace on his face. the corners of his mouth would turn into smiles typically only when he was with abby or you two were alone and he could let his guard down. of course, even then, the moment you caught an attitude, that grimace would appear right back on his face. his demeanor was typically gruff. he was the kind of guy most people didn't want to mess with. this meant any male coworkers around you would be tested their fate to even glance at you the wrong way and god forbid mike saw one of them brush something off of your shoulder. that would truly be the end of them.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt is very obsessive over safety. after losing garrett, he has this urge to do nothing but to protect. this means that mike is the type of guy to want your location at all times. not only that, but he wants to know what you're doing, who you're with, and what time you'll be home. he expects a text when you leave, a text when you get there, an hourly check-in, then a text on your way home. it brings him a sense of peace, knowing where you are. he watches life360 obsessively when you're not in his sight, watching your little bubble move through wherever you may be. he's constantly checking the speed of the car you're in, occasionally stalking your friend's instagram stories to see where you are. he's overprotective to the extent that it can be overbearing, but at the end of the day it's endearing knowing he cares that much.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt uses the fact that you're younger than him to manipulate you. he's less about violence or anything physical and instead uses his words. he will constantly remind you how helpless you are without him, how he has so much more life experience than you. he'll point out randomly when you mention not knowing how to do something, saying something like, "see, babydoll, where would you be without me? that's right, nowhere. you need me to take care of you." he's also the kind of guy to eventually make you financially dependent on him if he could ever afford it. he would never put you in that spot until he was comfortable enough to do so, though, meaning it might be a loooong time before that ever happened.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt treats you less like a partner and more like a little sibling, kinda like he treats abby. as strange as it is, he also feels a paternal instinct to protect you. it comes from his deep-rooted feelings of abandonment. he lost garrett, his mom, his dad, and sometimes he feels like abby hates him. he loves that you listen to him, that he can command you to do something and you'd be so good for him. he absolutely adores being able to control different aspects of your life, making you completely reliant on him. it makes him feel special and needed, which he hasn't felt in a very long time. he loves nothing more than when he gets to scold you almost like a parent, your eyes falling to the ground, that adorable wounded puppy look he loves so much taking over your face.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt is incredibly clingy and touch starved. he wants to have a hand on you 24/7. forget having personal space, because you are not getting it with him. he'd follow you around, watching you everywhere you'd go. his hands would grip onto your hips so tightly sometimes it'd feel like they were glued to them. he'd always have his arms around you, kissing at your neck, nipping in a way you felt shouldn't be shown in public. mike didn't care, he wanted everyone to know you belonged to him in every single way. he controlled you, and if he wanted to embarrass you and turn your face red by leaving purple marks on your neck in the middle of a shopping plaza, then so be it. you would take it or be punished.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt who of course uses his sleeping pills on you when you're being a little brat. he isn't violent with you for the most part except for the rare occasion when he will hold you down onto the bed until you'll listen, but otherwise he opts for something simpler. when you're being a little too frustrating for him, going against his every command or you're not feeling like being held, mike will simply crush up his sleeping pills, slip them into your water. he's careful with you once you doze off, never abusing you in any way. all he will do is tuck you into your shared bed and hold your body in his arms, whispering sweet nothings as you're off in your own sweetly drugged up world.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt would most definitely have a thing for being called daddy. sorry guys, it had to be said. hot take, i guess. considering he did want to protect you so thoroughly, he loved when you'd call him daddy. it made him feel like your protector, like you knew he was the one that did everything for you. it was so crazy how such a simple word could change his whole day. he loved hearing it fall out of your lips as he'd brush through your hair or wash your body off in the shower. "thank you, daddy," you'd hum and he'd grin ear to ear. "you're welcome, babydoll," he'd always say, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

[mo0nfairy]

ᥫ᭡ .  #  ۫  ,  ⸺  A HOUSE IN NEBRASKA  !  

summary :: mike schmidt did not realize the weight of his mistake before it was too late. when he had first met you, his baby sister's beloved teacher, he couldn't imagine ever leaving you. with his aunt's demands to see her niece, however, he had no choice. now, a year later and two states over, everyday is spent suffocating on misery and memories. mike does not know how much more of this he can endure before he breaks.

word count :: 9.2k.

content warnings :: obsessive!mike, yandere!mike, fnaf movie spoilers, drugging, kidnapping, violence, stalking, & insinuations of s3x.

mike schmidt's yandere traits are . . .

obsessive, paranoid, & nervous

──── Everything is hazy.

Fuzzy. Blurry. Serenity in its sheerest form. The absolute definition of tranquility.

That April morning in Nebraska. The scent of sugar and crayons, the sounds of children playing outside, the scattered toys left on rainbow carpets. You're sat at the desk in your classroom. Warm light bleeding through the window behind you, framing you with flowering leaves and sunshine.

Across the room, Abby Schmidt sits on the floor. Her small fingers tap the glass enclosure where the class pet is. Mr. Cupcake, your iguana. Or, as you like to refer to him, your teaching assistant. His claws plunge into his food dish, copper-colored eyes scrutinizing his surroundings. Abby watches as the reptile chows on the fruit and foliage left for breakfast.

Sitting in the chair opposite your desk is Mike Schmidt. Sweat beads on his forehead, ineluctably distressed beneath your gaze. The suit he wore for this occasion juts uncomfortably into his skin. His fingers fidget with the trim of his tie. He looks at the woven basket of exotic butters sitting on your desk, wondering why he had gotten you such an aimless gift.

Mike is quiet, as usual. Austere, his permanent disposition. Despite his tireless efforts to express his thoughts to you, the words remain nestled in his throat. Conjuring any syllable in your presence is impossible.

You, however, do not have any wavering confidence. You reiterate the legal documents obligatory for Abby's complete transition to a new school. Noting how all necessities are now in your possession (albeit languidly, as Mike has been painfully trying to buy more time here), the relocation was complete. The obvious insinuation of your words, however, brings crippling dread like no other.

The last time you would ever see one another. Your goodbye.

Standing to your feet, you make your way to Abby and bend down beside her. You will miss your star student, as you have a soft spot for all the children in your classroom. In the process, you do not take notice of the way Mike instinctively reaches out to you. He's sure your touch would kill him, but it does not stop him from wishing for it. Even just a sliver of the precious rarity.

"I think Mr. Cupcake is going to miss you." Abby looks at you with wide, curious eyes.

"Don't tell the others, but you're definitely his favorite." That earns you a smile before she averts her attention back to the iguana.

When you stand, you find Mike breathing down your neck. Horrifically, as this memory still haunts him, he thought it'd be a good idea to hug you. And he practically throws his entire body weight on top of you. When you reject him by placing your hand on his chest, offering a handshake instead, fire spreads with your touch. Knowing he will never know what it feels like to hold you close to him is more excruciating than he is willing to admit.

Abby skips out of the classroom, an adorable pep in her step. At the same time, every step Mike takes from you feels like walking through an avalanche. Dragging him backward, begging to return to you. Almost as if it were his instinct, his body is trying to reject his advances of leaving you.

"Why do you always look at them like that? Like... Like they're a dinosaur or something?"

Abby's question causes Mike's brows to furrow. His feelings for you were certainly discernible. Even his young sister had taken notice of the odd behavior. Had he made it that obvious? He answers her with a weak, affirmative grunt. Too emotionally fatigued to find words to speak.

A sudden flare of biliousness deluges through his body. The hallway walls adorned with children's paintings have morphed into a colorful blur of vertigo. The floors disturbingly stretch in size, making the journey away from you all the more torturous. The suit he had tried to wear confidently sticks to his hot skin. Nausea squirms in his stomach like a dying cockroach. The room begins to spin, lights sway in his vision, and his knees fight for balance.

Mike hears his sister shriek his name before he falls to the ground.

One year later, Mike wakes from this same dream, once again.

Every night of this past year, he has dreamt the same thing. Your final goodbye and the sheer impact it took on him. It is a gut-wrenching memory, but he welcomes the echo of you with open arms. To feel your hand on his chest, see your eyes looking into his. This yearning heartache is the only thing keeping him alive.

For the umpteenth time, Mike faces the harsh, violent reality of his current life. Now, he is somewhere in Utah. Praying straight to God he'll somehow wake up back in Nebraska. Where he could see you again, where he could be happy again.

Tearing the headphones of his Walkman off, the song he had played on repeat comes to an end. He rubs his sleepy eyes. With newfound clarity, Mike shifts his gaze upwards. Taped to the ceiling is a drawing Abby drew. It's of you and him beneath a flowery altar, Mr. Cupcake as your marriage officiant. The picture aids him in his efforts to feel closer to you.

Mike doesn't even know how he survived seeing the drawing for the first time. Someone else validating his feelings for you and the realness of your nonexistent relationship was too much for him to handle. Even if it is a child doing so through a frivolous drawing.

When Mike shuffles over to place his Walkman on the bedside table, he skims over the assortment of clutter left there. Several bottles of sleeping medication had been indolently thrown onto the surface. The pills help his dreams feel more real, as though he were at your side once again.

A glance over, Mike's heart wrenches at the sight of the picture frame. Beside the mess of pills is a photograph of you he had torn from Abby's yearbook. As if you were watching over him while he slept, reaching out to him in the presence of his dreams. It's a comforting thought of his, to imagine you watching over him. Like his personal guardian angel.

Surely, he would prefer to have you physically with him, instead of just relying on these fantasies to hold him over. His stomach flutters at the mere idea of you being in his bed with him. Mike feels empty without your warm weight beside him.

Laying against his chest, huddling up to him for an early-morning cuddle before the day starts. He would ensnare his blanket around your still-sleeping form. He'd press ardent kisses to the top of your head and inhale the aromatic scent of your signature soap. Massaging his hands across your back. Caressing the balmy flesh of your body. It is the physical manifestation of nirvana brought directly into his palms.

Mike shakes the thoughts out as quickly as they come. So cheesy... What on Earth is he doing?

Although he has tossed around the idea of giving in and leaving Abby in their aunt's care, what kind of man would you think him as if he abandoned his family? And if he were to take Abby back to Nebraska, Social Services would surely hunt him down. The mere idea of being locked behind a prison cell is terrifying, but the prospect of never seeing you again provokes terror like no other.

Mike's head pounds as these thoughts haunt him. Reveries of brighter days in your presence, trepidation of being separate from you forever — this is how every morning usually begins. His dreams nestled in a nightmare. The chaos in his head brings him to where this story had begun altogether.

February. Two months before the last time he would ever see you.

Jane had demanded Abby live with her in Utah, threatening legal action in the process. Mike had no other choice but to succumb to her orders. It had begun as a minor inconvenience, considering his life in Nebraska was futile to begin with. However, it would soon become the worst decision he has ever made. He knows he should have fought harder, but Mike hadn't met you until after he verified their relocation. It wasn't until he had stepped foot into your classroom for the very first time had he realized the weight of his mistake.

With the start of his shift at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza approaching, he struggled to bring these rampant thoughts to rest. Resentfully, Mike rises from his bed. The sun has begun to set and his unsatisfactory power nap has come to an end. He trudges over to the foot of his bed and begins his usual set of push-ups. Triggering adrenaline through his body is essential to his daily routine. It helps ease his brain from all the chaos. An area he is in dire need of assistance.

For a moment, his thoughts are blank. It is such an oddity, that Mike is left stunned. Having a silent mind is a privilege that is unknown to him.

And just when he thought he had found coherence, the memory of you comes sprinting at him from the shadows. Mere seconds of emptiness pass before thoughts of you invade his mind.

A week after your final goodbye.

His disposition has suffered from a harsh descent since then. Mike is now irritable and aggressive to anyone who even faintly nudges his buttons. Snapping like a feral dog. Rough like a calloused hand.

Acknowledging weakness has never been his strong suit, but Mike is not a fool when it comes to how he feels around you. The overwhelming nerves stirred together with unwavering devotion make for a sugary-sweet, poisonous concoction. Something he could get drunk off for years to come.

Although his mind is stained in consideration, he cannot storm through the school doors and take you with him to Utah. Merely standing in your presence is enough to make him stop breathing. Contriving an abduction, one that includes you, no less, would fail miserably. And as he stated before, the prospect of being stuck behind bars and never seeing you again provokes terror like no other.

So, he gives in. He resentfully gives in to what his Aunt Jane wants and goes about his life.

There was only two more weeks before he'd leave his job as security at the mall forever. Mike meanders through the large expanse, actively averting his gaze from all the happy couples. Hands held together, eyes brimming with adoration, feeding each other ice cream. It never fails to make him bitter, which he prefers to assume it is because of how sappy the sight is.

He wonders what flavor of ice cream is your favorite, the look in your eye as he feeds you a spoonful. What kind of sweet words you'd give him and the way you'd blush when he drowns you in adoration. Within the safety of his mind, he has molded himself into the man of your dreams. You will just have to look past all the sweat and nerves to find him.

A flicker of movement captures his attention. Something strangely familiar in his peripheral. When he turns, his breath gets caught in his chest.

His wide eyes stare at you. Standing alone across the mall.

All Mike can do is gawk. Like a newly-born fawn, staring goggle-eyed and weak-kneed as he takes in the sight of the world for the very first time. A gasp of your name parts from his lips. He sways in his stance like a boat on the sea, his body melts like snow beneath the sunlight. Stood still in place, he feels that familiar sense of light-headedness return. He embraces the dizziness as a comfort, this time around.

Mike could almost laugh at this. At the same time, he could cry his heart out.

Of course, your roads would intersect. Of course, you would find each other in the end. Even when he had fully accepted he would never see you again, you return to him. Like a cloud of happier days, here to hide the torment for all.

And then, he's interrupted.

Walking uninvited into the scene is a stranger. A man approaches you, daring to drape his arm around your shoulder. Mike's eye twitches as he watches. The stranger then plants a kiss on your cheek, something Mike has wished to do since the first time he stepped foot in your classroom. With this man's hands all over you, the two of you begin to walk away.

The word "heartbroken" was something Mike had never felt before. It was something he never understood. He only heard of the word through brainless movies, where he swore he'd never let himself fall apart like the dumb characters do. At this moment, however, that term is stamped all over him in thick ink. A vivid exhibition of all the good and bad you have done to him.

Without another thought, Mike takes a step. Then another. Before he is breaking into a full sprint toward the love of his life and the parasite latched onto them. It's as if a puppeteer was controlling him, grasping hold of his spine and snatching a fistful of nerves. He shoves past any shoppers in his way, a few losing balance and falling to the floor. His speed accelerates with every hastening step, growing closer and closer.

The stranger looks over his shoulder a second too late before he is tackled. The two fall into an adjacent fountain with a loud clamor. Mike's fist clenches, before it surges down into his face. Then, he does it again and again and again.

Again. Again. Again.

And again.

Grunting like an animal, Mike can't stop himself.

Fuck you. Fuck you. 

Fuck you.

Don't you ever fucking touch them.

It is blinding, how enraged he is. In a mess of blood and water. The mere thought of someone laying a finger on you boils red-hot rage like he has never felt before.

Someone ensnares their arms around him and drags him away from the mess he created. When the splashing water eases down to calm ripples, he finally looks over to you to ensure your safety and- who is that? A different person is standing there, utter horror plastered on their face as they watch the scene play out.

They have the same height, the same clothes, almost the same everything. But, now that Mike is able to scrutinize who he thought to be you, he realizes he was completely wrong. He had only formed a desperate personification of you from memory. What has he done?

The dread is soul-crushing as the weight of his mistake crushes him. Other bystanders watch in shock. Mike's fists are bruised red, his clothes are wet and stained with blood. What on Earth was he thinking!? All he ever wanted was to protect you! To protect you from men like that!

Mike's vision doubles and his body shivers. All he ever wanted was to protect you. The only thing he can think about is you and the sheer devastation you have rained down into his life.

This memory playing through his head is abruptly cut short. Mike is then forcefully shoved back into reality when his hand slips during his set of push-ups. He falls face-first into the carpet, grumbling from the harsh contact.

It is a vile memory to have, as it is the reason he lost his job at the mall and truly eradicated any chance of staying in Nebraska. However, it showed him how irrevocably devoted he is to you. How the feelings he has for you are completely and utterly real. Someone like him, who prides himself in being aloof and controlled, was capable of causing such calamity. All for your safety.

It was a terrifying revelation, but it soothed him in a way he had never felt before.

Michael Schmidt needs you.

And unfortunately, his feelings are not powerful enough to stretch into physical reality. Even though it feels as though they are capable of doing so, they cannot mold the world to bring him back to you. They cannot protect him from the inevitability of leaving his home and being dragged to Utah.

Now, he stands at the entrance of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Ivy grows amongst the bricked walls. Bright paint fades from years of neglect. Mike breathes in the scent of midnight brume as he unlocks the doors, trying once more to rid his brain of the thought of you.

The flashlight in his hands illuminates the inside of the pizzeria. Specks of dust permeate the air. Flashy arcade games are riddled with age. Toys on the prize shelf are covered in a blanket of cobwebs. The once gaudy carpets are caked with dirt. And those God-awful animatronics still stand on that rickety stage. Mike takes note of all these little things with a sigh. If this place was still alive today, he knows you'd adore taking your students here.

As his nights have been spent for the last year, he walks through the dilapidated establishment as usual. On the desk is a stack of chunky monitors displaying several angles of the pizzeria. The "CELEBRATE!" poster on the wall mocks him. He plops down on the adjacent swivel chair. The old fabric peels and the wheels whine from his weight.

Unzipping his ragged backpack, he grasps hold of the book he had taken with him, Dream Theory. Adjusting the headphones of his Walkman on his head, Mike then flicks the dog-ear over and resumes his reading.

God only knows how many times he has read this damned book. And every time he rereads it, he prays he can somehow find an anecdote for this torment. A magic step-by-step guide that will bring him back to you.

Despite perusing this book from front to back, he still searches for more. He hates being awake. He'd much rather be asleep, where he can return to you. Any second not spent with you, even if the moment is not tangible, is a second gone to waste. No matter what the circumstances are, he could only ever wish to be with you.

Lethargy hits Mike like a slap across the face. The book in his hands is now reminiscent of a brick. The song that plays on repeat in his Walkman soothes him like a mother's lullaby. All of these sensations embrace Mike; they pacify his brain and body of any unease. And with a few more leveled breaths, Dream Theory falls from his hands and he drifts off.

With a beat, he's woken up with a sharp gasp. This time, however, he does not awaken in the same dingy pizzeria. He finds himself sitting at a picnic table. Located in the very same forest he had lost his brother years ago.

Looking down, Mike finds he is dressed in the same hunter-green sweater and jeans stained with grass. His eyes scan around the expanse, searching for the faces of his family. He cannot find his mother, his father, nor Garrett. No one. Everything is to no avail.

There's a shuffle from behind him. He looks, only to find swaying trees and fluttering birds. And then, a voice.

"I'm sad to see you both go." The familiar cadence has Mike's head snapping back forward. He is struck with desperation.

There you are, sat across from him at the picnic table.

If it weren't for the campgrounds you were both at, this moment would be identical to when he first met you. In that same classroom, on that same day. Every mannerism and timbre of your voice is a picture-perfect copy of that moment. Same look in your eye, wearing the same clothes and bead bracelets your students made for you. Same everything.

It is a precious memory. To sit here with you feels so real, as though the heavens had answered Mike's prayers and brought him back to you.

"Abigail has always been a stellar student. I have no doubt she'll flourish in her new school."

Your smile makes his heart sink. Everyone always looks at him with anger. Not you, though. You're different.

"She does have a tendency to keep to herself. But, I think she'll adapt well to the new environment." He remembers every word from your mouth.

The emotions he was struck with when he first met you come back in a near-fatal rush. Irrepressible tension and rapture plunge through the barrier of his flesh. Practically a duplicate of the exact memory.

Going to a standard school meeting for his sister was an event Mike intended to do briefly. Getting it over as quickly as possible is his standard approach to most if not all, aspects of his life. This day, however, he was thrown in a whirlpool when he found himself wishing to stay with you. Leaving you felt like something he could not bear to endure.

Mike is abnormally pale, drenched in sweat, and mere seconds from passing out. You place your hand on his arm, inquiring him about if he was feeling alright. Hook, line, and sinker. Your mere touch sent him charging away from any perceived sanity he once possessed.

The strictly platonic concern you had for his well-being is addicting. To a point where Mike abandons all morals to indulge in these newfound feelings you give him. Once a poised man has now been reduced to a gooey puddle of sheer fervor.

All he can do is nod in response, completely entranced by the sight before him. You take his assurance hesitantly, before reaching into a basket of children's toys beside your desk. As this memory usually plays out, you retrieve a bear plushie. You then tell him of how it is Abby's favorite to play with and how you wish to gift it to her before your final goodbye. He agrees, of course. Nodding once more to compensate for his inability to speak.

In these woods, however, you show him that orange toy plane his brother treasured. His gaze remains latched to you as stand from the picnic table and walk away. To his utmost surprise, you then bend down beside Garrett. When you present him with the plane, he accepts your gift with childlike elation. He is quick to abandon his recent endeavors in favor of playing with his new toy.

You stand on foot, watching with an adoring smile as the young boy takes off. Mike watches you. An emotional, muddled intensity in his eyes.

"This isn't... This isn't how it happened... This isn't real." In his state of confusion, Mike has found the ability to speak.

He captures your attention and your gaze reverts to him. In response, his mouth goes dry and all coherent thought vanishes. Just one look from you and his entire capacity to speak is robbed, once again.

"But, it could be... It's what you want, isn't it?"

You are correct. You have always been veracious and that attitude does not fail now.

So despairingly, Mike wants this with you. To raise Abby and Garrett together, he can only imagine the wonderful people they'd become under your care. Maybe you and him could even bring a few more beautiful lives into this world. He can only imagine how exultant his own life would become if this dream turned into reality.

The rest of his life would be spent with you in Nebraska, just like this. Mornings and nights spent together at the dining table, all delicious laughter and nourishing meals. He'll even let you bring that lizard, too!

Playing frivolous games in the backyard until the sun sets, dressing in ridiculous costumes to take the kids trick-or-treating, and helping them blow out the candles for every birthday cake. Hell, he'll endure the sweltering temperatures and screaming kids at Disneyland. Only if you're there with him.

And maybe after the bedtime stories and last tuck-ins goodnight, you and him can occupy yourselves with other activities. Mike is no stranger to these kinds of fantasies, after all.

You wouldn't fail Abby and Garrett. Not like he did. You could all be a family. Exactly like he has always wanted.

For a moment, Mike had forgotten how his life had inevitably turned out. He was so warped in the domestic bliss he could have with you, that he didn't anticipate how the next chapter of his life would manifest in this dream.

You are tackled to the ground. You fight, you kick, you scream — you do everything in your strength to get the man off of you. The very same man who took Garrett all those years ago.

Not a picosecond passes before Mike picks himself up, rushing to your safety. He intends to beat the man to a bloody pulp. His sole purpose on Earth is to protect you and ensure your safety, after all. In his efforts, his foot gets caught against the legs of the picnic table, sending him to the dirt floor. Mike is quick to scramble to his feet. His heart races a mile a minute; his eyes are blown wide in crazed worry.

When he stands, he finds that somehow within the few seconds spent on the ground, you had been shoved into the back of a car. You bang your fists against the rear window, pleading for him to rescue you. And that, Mike desperately tries to do.

He sprints after you in a blind, blurred panic. The sudden, swift movement of his body is painful, as though needles poke and prod at his skin. It is all he can see, hear, feel, think of. Losing you and the gut-wrenching devastation that would inevitably follow.

The car begins to accelerate faster and faster. His running pace gets slower with every step forward. Mike tries, God, he fucking tries, but you slip away from him like sand between his fingers. Just the same as it was when he lost his brother.

With his speed receding, his body loses all mobility and he cannot bear to run anymore. The harsh punt of his body falling to the ground pulls a grunt out of his throat. Mike whispers mantras of "I'm sorry," hoping that you can somehow hear his pleas. He prays that by some miracle, the man who took you will have a change of heart and bring you back. Sobs plunge through his chest. The misery seeps in like water leaking through a weak dam.

Consciousness comes back to him all too suddenly. A loud yell of your name erupts from him and echoes through the security room. Mike plummets from his desk chair and splats against the ground. His mind is still plagued by that scene, he is still racing to save your life.

Cold sweat drips from his head. His hands shake with a terrified tremor. He hyperventilates, as though he had escaped the depths of the ocean and were inhaling fresh air for the first time. Mike weakly props himself up against the desk, trying to calm himself.

An entire year of agony. Over 365 days of absolute Hell. Living without you has tortured him in ways he never thought was possible.

Sitting here on the filthy floor of this old pizzeria, Mike finally waves his white flag. He has given up. He cannot do this anymore. It is more than he can handle.

And without so much as another breath, Mike springs into action.

Max is surprised to see him back home so early. Flustered and ridden with sweat, Mike explains how there is an emergency at work and he needs her to watch Abby longer. She obliges and accepts the hefty pay he shoves into her hands. He is driving away before she can process what has just occurred.

The song he plays every night in his Walkman blares from the car radio. Your song. The idea brings him ephemeral ease. A dash of excitement.

This is what his life is supposed to be and if all goes well, it's what it will be in mere hours. Mike's foot slams harder against the gas, doing what he should have done long ago.

All he has to do is explain himself. Surely, you will listen and understand this is for the better. You will see through all his stuttered words and irrepressible nerves. You will taste the sickeningly sweet devotion dripping from his mushy, candied heart. Surely, you will understand this is all for you. And of course, you will love him, too.

Hours pass like gusts of wind. The welcome sign of Nebraska passes in a flash. Mike remembers the route like the back of his hand. He'd never forget the roads that lead back to you, after all.

Dawn is moments from rising. The sky is a dark blue, covered in blotches of dark, orange sunshine. Mike pulls into the parking lot of your school where only one car is present. Yours. And of course, he parks directly beside you. The prospect of being close to you, even with something as negligible as this, sends a hot shiver coursing through his body.

Mike tries to soothe himself as he lets out a shaky breath. A heavy trepidation is nestled in his stomach, still mixed with that crisp excitement. Sweat cascades down his face. His dark, curly hair sticks to his forehead. Nothing can stop these feelings. He may try, but his scattered heartstrings stubbornly remain ensnared around his throat.

When he stands, he has to latch onto the roof of his car to catch his balance. Any passerby would think he was drunk. Being at an elementary school would certainly not help his case, either. Fortunately, the only people here are you and him. No one else. Just the way it is supposed to be.

The path leading to you is familiar. The trees blossoming, the chalk drawings on the sidewalk, and the scent of the early-morning breeze. It reminds Mike even more of how much he missed you.

His wet palms grasp the handles of the front entrance. He pulls, only for the door to remain locked in place. A few more desperate tugs and he watches as his ploy peels apart from the seams. The consideration of breaking down the door is only present momentarily, before any and all function of his is cut short.

The door is unlocked and opened. Stood at the threshold is you.

And with more intensity than Mike had anticipated, the euphoria only you are capable of conjuring comes rushing back.

"Good morning!" is all you say. Your expression is cheerful. Kind. Gorgeous, as you always are. Exactly the way he remembered.

Now that you are finally here, Mike cannot fathom how he had survived so long without you. The pieces of you sprinkled throughout his life are brought to revelation. Your name carved into his bones, your warmth threaded through his veins, your breath stirred with his every word. It is as terrifying as it is exhilarating. The fact he had not collapsed upon making mere eye contact with you is a miracle in of itself.

"Oh! Are you the new security guard? I wasn't aware we were getting a new hire." You break the silence, referring to the yellow "SECURITY" stamped on his vest.

You...

You don't remember me?

The words don't manage to escape him. Instead, you send him into a state of stupor.

The impact your words have on him is nothing short of surreal. When Mike had memorized every sliver of you down to the tilt of your jaw and the curve of your spine, you had forgotten him entirely. For the year he spent longing for you, he was merely a bystander in the background. An apparition within your mind. You do not remember him. And no words in the English language could express the lethal heartbreak.

It has rendered Mike speechless and his inability to speak fills you with unease.

"Please, come in." Opening the door further, you try and usher him inside. All you wish to do is escape this conversation and the fervid eyes of this stranger.

Gaze still glued to you, he grasps hold of the door handles. His unconscious brain still decides to take the weight off of you. Mike has no choice now, he must convince you to stay with him. To beg you to choose him, to remind you of everything you once had with each other. To show you what losing you has done to him.

When you turn and walk away, he tries to find his voice. Mike wants to express all of this to you, but his efforts are futile. He is frozen and can only watch as you leave him again. The opposite direction of your classroom, this time. Towards the office. Most likely to ensure he was actually in the system.

Mike does not take this choice of yours for granted. Gathering up whatever morsel of strength is still left in him, he takes a few wobbly steps. He stumbles through the dark hallways, clutching his hand over his heart as he walks. His rampant heartbeat does not calm itself, no matter his attempts to soothe it.

Upon practically collapsing into your classroom, a flare of fleeting ease envelops Mike. To be surrounded by you is absolute ecstasy. Paradise is personified through flamboyant decorations and the scent of strawberries and books.

He scans every detail of your classroom. The new drawings on the wall, the jumble of recently purchased toys. He sees the new changes you have made in the past year and is shattered to know you were not thinking of him at all. As opposed to every second of his life being enmeshed with you.

Mike soon finds your desk. The first and last place he had ever truly felt happiness. On the surface, some of your clutter had been left behind. Too cute. A colorful planner had been left open to this exact date. A few papers are sat to the side, where students' assessments are in the process of being graded. Most important of all, your thermal scattered with stickers sits on a pained coaster.

Mike knows he should not consider it, no less think about it. You just need to be reminded, that's all.

With a paranoid glance at the door, he takes the orange bottle of sleeping pills from his backpack. He swiftly pours out several onto the desk. Then, he takes a stapler you had left out of reach from children's sticky fingers, crushing the thin white circles into a chunky powder. Your thermal opens with a quiet pop! and Mike pours the residue into your drink. He uses the straw to stir it around for effective measure, trying to ignore the incessant urge to take your straw for... personal use.

A storage closet resides right behind him. Mike leaves everything on your desk as it once was and is swift to hide inside. He leaves the door open a mere creak, within perfect distance to watch his plan unfold.

The minute without you feels torturous, as though it had lasted a millennia. When the aching sound of silence is filled by a creaking door, his heart practically plummets. Through the small peep, you enter his field of vision. You trot over to the iguana enclosure. Saying a quick hello to Mr. Cupcake, before making your way to your desk. Oblivious to the uninvited guest just inches away.

You take a sip from your thermal. Mike cannot find air to breathe or the ability to function.

You take another. This is actually happening.

One more sip. Your pen scribbles on your planner.

You take a sip. It is a blessing straight from God you cannot hear the hyperventilated breaths behind you.

Then, another sip. Holy shit, this is actually happening.

As you work, you reach over to grab some sticky notes. Your elbow accidentally nudges your pen, causing it to fall from your desk and roll across the floor. You stand to retrieve it with a grumble before a sudden wave of lethargy envelops you. It is all too sudden and acute. You have to lean on the edge of your desk to stable yourself.

Before you can question the sudden fatigue, your body fails you. When you inevitably fall, Mike is quick to catch you. Hell, his arms were around you before your legs even wobbled. Slowly, and with loving attentiveness, he guides your limp body to the ground. The adrenaline inside him is so penetrating, that he does not have a moment to process the fact he is touching you.

With you fully unconscious, Mike knows exactly where he'll be heading next. Only now, he'll have an additional passenger with him.

He secures your unconscious form into the back seat of his car. Fastening your seatbelt and triple-checking they are in proper function. Mr. Cookie, or whatever his name is, is in the front seat within his cage. Moving his enclosure and necessities from your classroom was a hassle, as told by the bite mark on Mike's hand. For you, though, he would endure far worse.

With the birds beginning to sing, there is little time before the world wakes up and his intentions are jeopardized. Mike drives off before anyone can see what he has done. Not even he has fully processed what he has done.

Leaving your car, your home, and your life behind, he begins the treacherous and exciting journey back to Utah.

Every car that passes has him gripping the wheel tighter, foot reader to slam harder on the gas. He had already lost you once, he cannot lose you again. Mike does not play music, either. The sounds of your breathing is his new favorite harmony.

He casts a glance in the rear-view mirror every now and then. You're draped among the back of the car, cocooned in the numerous blankets he brought for this trip. Beneath the windows, your head is rested against a fluffy pillow. He even snuggled a few plushies into your arms. The sight is so gut-wrenchingly adorable, Mike nearly crashes the car with how painfully distracting the sight of you is.

This was the state he stayed in for the first several hours of the drive. Mindless driving on freeways, checking on you (as well as continuously cooing over your cuteness), and holding his breath whenever he passes through busy areas or cops. Then, he gets knocked off course.

With blurred vision, you can barely discern where you are.

Sunlight makes you squint. Your mind is messy. You can hear the rumble of a car engine, feel the vibration against your form. The blankets wrapped around you are suffocating. You peel them off from your body, a few random stuffed animals fall to the car floor when you do so.

Mike nearly snaps his neck with how fast he turns around. His efforts to take you away were frivolous, yes, but he was sure he had given you enough pills to sleep through the trip.

"Hey, you're okay. Y-You're okay. Everything's gonna be okay. Okay? Just don't freak out... Please don't freak out."

You do the opposite of what he advised. Little by little, the pieces begin to click together. Panic settles in your stomach like a fresh sheet of snow. Hyperventilating breaths leave your shaking body, accentuated by your frightened whimpers. Who is this man? What the fuck is going on? Tears stream down your face with every question that litters your mind. And every cracked sob you let out is a fatal strike to your assailant's fragile heart.

Mike is quick to comfort you, as you can always count on him to do such. And how badly he wishes to climb into the back seat himself and hold you close. Everything he is doing is for the better, you must know that. As scary as this all may seem for you, he will do whatever it takes to convince you of this truth.

He reaches his hand back to soothe you, only succeeding in the opposite when you cower away from his touch. Mike cannot hide how poignant your rejection is, he is shocked he hadn't broken down into tears alongside you.

"... Are you going to hurt me-?"

"I would never."

He answers without a sliver of hesitation. Your shattered, sugar-sweet voice absolutely destroys him.

The weight of his declaration is so immense that you could almost believe him. You should believe him, as he only tells the utter truth. The fact you have been drugged and shoved into the backseat of a stranger's car, however, convinces you otherwise.

Looking through the window, you take note of the rural area you're in. Nothing but miles of trees to comfort you. No distinct landmarks to help you navigate your location.

Mike oscillates between looking at you and the road. While he's occupied with the road ahead, you take action before thinking thoroughly. Sweltering blankets torn off of your body, you unfasten your seatbelt as silently as you can. You mentally prepare yourself for the turmoil up ahead. Then, within a matter of a single second, you unlock the car door and jump.

Debris slices into you as you fall deeper into the forest. The world becomes a blurred frenzy of trees and cloudy skies. Your frail body is drowsy from the drugs still pumping through your system. Your ribs ache, your ears ring, and you are covered in gashes. Still, survival is the only prospect present in your brain. You pick yourself up from the dirt and dash forward. Never looking back.

April puddles and fallen pinecones ruin your expensive work shoes. Fresh flowers are squished beneath your steps. There is no path you intend to take, you only wish to get as far as you can from that man. Poison ivy and low-hanging branches slash at your skin. You do not think, you only push and push and push. Anywhere away from him.

The second you had opened that car door, Mike slammed down on the brakes. The scream of your name hurts his throat from the sheer volume. To see you jump, leaving him again, sparked fear like no other. He does not even bother to turn off the car or close the door before he is racing after you. He cannot lose you again. He can't, he can't, he can't.

Mike barrels into the forest like a feral animal. He is met with a terrifying sense of déjà-vu. He's seen this movie before, he's heard this song a million times. This dream has haunted him forever. Just when he is inches from touching salvation, you will be snatched away from him. And he will have to watch as his life crumbles before his very eyes.

His legs grow heavier with every step. He screams for you until his voice goes raw. His lungs feel as though they may collapse into themselves. Still, his efforts to find you do not falter. You would have to kill him if you wished to keep him away from you.

A tree branch crunches.

Mike stops dead in his tracks. Listening.

There's a pained whimper. Quiet amongst the soft winds.

He dashes toward the sound. Swift in surging through the steep hills and overgrown forestry in his path.

While you were running, you failed to notice a protruding tree root. When your foot hooks beneath it and sends you tumbling to the ground, you try and scramble to your feet. However, the burst of adrenaline that had gotten you this far could not combat the lethargy still in your body. You lay on your back, exasperated with debility. Entirely paralyzed.

"Y/N! Oh, thank God!" Mike collapses beside you, all while you stare at the stranger in utter terror.

Dirt and sweat paint his body. Eyes blown wide and crazed, his hands reach for you. Fearfully searching for any wounds. One hand cradles your face, caressing your skin with his thumb. The other rests against your hairline, petting the expanse with tender intent. Cries of both relief and terror fill the empty silence. To lose you all over again is a horrifying prospect he cannot fathom the weight of.

"N-... No..." Your voice is weak. Barely able to crawl out of your mouth.

Fingers latched into the mud, you try to drag your body away from this maniac. Mike brings your attempts to a halt, hands still latched onto your body.

"I'll be good, Y/N, I will... Just-Just stay with me!"

Your assailant does not listen to your feeble demands. Instead, Mike wraps his arms around your torso. Further ensnaring you in his locked embrace. He buries his face into your neck and rocks your body back and forth. Trying to soothe you into another slumber. His sniffles are overpowered by his sharp inhales of breath. Consuming your scent.

"You're not leaving me. You're not fucking leaving me!" Mike bawls out.

He is now a complete mess. Face twisted with ugly sobs. All hot tears and running snot.

"Just sleep now, okay? I'm right here..."

Blunt nails dig into your shoulder blades. His weight on top of you is suffocating. Please just love him and never leave him. That is all he could ever ask for, all he could ever want. He has spent so long without the one he loves most, he cannot bear to ever part from them ever again.

With a choked groan, Mike lifts your limp body from the ground. Sniffling reassurances echo as you reach a state of unconsciousness. He lifts you over his shoulder and your body loses all mobility. As he takes you away, your mind fades into a peaceful rest. Escaping is now a pipe dream.

Faint sounds of shuffling are what you're next awoken to. Pipes bang and thump. It is far more quiet than your last conscious encounter.

Darkness pervades your vision. Your body feels weightless, as though you are floating through a dream. You cannot move, no matter your efforts to try. As if your limbs had been glued to the fluffy expanse you've been laid upon. All you are capable of doing is releasing a guttural moan of disdain from the back of your throat.

"Easy, cub. Easy now."

No.

The voice is fluffy and easy. Horrifyingly familiar.

This can't be real; this can't be reality. This cannot be what your life becomes: rotting away in this stranger's embrace.

You were granted several mere seconds of solitude before hands were on your body, once again. The grasp lifts your body, to where your assailant sits behind you and rests your back against his chest. His efforts are gentle. Comforting. Though, the movement still has you wincing in discomfort. You hadn't anticipated how many injuries you had given yourself.

Speckles of your sight return in short spurts. There is light against the darkness, everything is gold. Drowned in the hues of candlelight scattered around the room. The glow is cast against a fuzzy expanse, to where you could almost convince yourself you were in a dream. And my God, do you wish it was.

You miss the rich, headache-inducing colors of your classroom. The judging stares of other parents who drowned their homes in beige decor never felt more comforting. You miss the screeching children with their constant need for attention. Their dramatic tears and obnoxious attitude would bring you peace like no other.

Mike plants his chin against your shoulder and all you can think about is the beautiful life you have lived until this point. His arm slithers across your torso, tightening with vehement need. It is loving in the most suffocating manner. You then hear a bottle unscrew through static noise. shushes you as he presses the lid against your lips. Water cascades into your mouth and down your dry throat, all while Mike presses impassioned kisses to your temple.

"There you go. Very good... You're perfect..." His tone is cordial as he ushers you to drink.

As much as you had tried to fight his attempts to give you water, it has fortunately provided you more clarity. The environment surrounding you fades into something more lucid.

You've been swaddled in a thick comforter. Soft and floral-scented, fresh out of the dryer. The king-size bed is at the end of the room and provides you with a clear view of everything. The lack of windows and decrepit staircase tucked in the corner tell you this is a basement. Soundproofed and locked up, your chances of escape are minimal. He does not want to let you go, that much is for certain.

Across the room is a chunky television. Movie cassettes sit in the cabinet supporting the television, where a newly purchased GameCube is left beside, as well. There's a bookshelf to your left, which is filled with old novels and children's books. Nothing was bought recently. Is there a child in this house? Lego sets and puzzle boxes are stacked next to the shelf. You come to the chilling assumption that it is intended to be something for you to occupy yourself with when he's gone.

Much to your satisfaction, Mike leaves from his spot behind you. He guides you back onto the pillow with romantic, loving ease. A gentle caress to your cheek before he goes. As if he was your doting husband taking care of you while you are ill.

When you look to your right, your heart accelerates when you find your iguana enclosure on top of a rickety table. Thank God he is alright! You do not know what you would do if this man had harmed Mr. Cupcake.

As words have failed you consistently, you whine out like a baby to express your wants. Your assailant's attention is back on you at record speed. The persistent need he has to ensure your comfort is almost pathetic. Teary-eyed and pouty, you reach for the enclosure holding your iguana.

Mike's body goes rigid. A gentle gasp emanates from him.

Are you... Are you reaching for him?

He practically throws himself back onto the bed. Sat beside your laying form, he almost can't bring himself to believe it. His deluded fantasies have bloomed into existence.

"Yes? What do you need, cub?" Please say him. Please say you need him like he needs you.

Mike looks at you and his eyes melt into candy. A gentle smile plastered on his face, he brings his finger up and boops you on the nose. Affectionate is his natural disposition. You're too fucking cute.

Mike had wasted an entire year without you. Too much time spent neglecting you of his love. Oh, you must have been so lonely without him. This is all he has wanted, after all. To take care of you. To take the weight off your shoulders and bring you ease like no other. He will spend the rest of his lifetime making up for the lost time. He would spend forever for you, slaving away to earn your forgiveness.

When you firmly establish what it is you actually want, no amount of sleeping pills in your thermal cup could stop you from seeing how defeated he is. Your rejection cuts like a dagger. Anyone can see this genuine fact. Still, Mike abides by your request. He'd tear mountains asunder for your happiness, after all.

Begrudgingly, he leaves your side. He opens the enclosure with struggle. Too many notches and slots. When he takes Mr. Cupcake into his hands, the iguana squirms and twists. Almost as if the reptile grasped what was happening. He propels his tail like a whip, reaching for the hands around him with his sharp teeth. His nails dig into whatever part of this stranger he can find.

When Mike plops him into your lap, Mr. Cupcake relaxes instantaneously. You snuggle him into your arms and are provided comfort from him, as well. His scaly flesh and jagged spine abrade your face, but you have never known a more soothing embrace. You plant a myriad of kisses and adoring nuzzles on Mr. Cupcake's skin. At the same time, you ignore the third wheel standing there.

Mike watches this and is nearly sick with want. Never in his life had he ever thought he'd wish to be an iguana this bad. The things he would give and the things he would take to be on the receiving end of your affections bridges off insanity.

Averting his gaze, he cannot watch the scene anymore. He had never expected to be so envious of a goddamn reptile. Mike grants you the time you want with that prickly bastard and leaves the basement. You hear the tumultuous clatter of all the locks and bolts being put into place once he is gone.

The time without Mike is something you do not take for granted. Silence is precious, solitude even more so. During his absence, you reel through the supercut of your life. You cannot find this man in any of your memories. You do not remember that face no matter how hard you try. He is the bad guy, the villain. The very definition of 'stranger-danger' you teach your students about.

When Mike returns, all of that disturbed turbulence comes with him.

In his hands is a cracked dinner plate with spaghetti and meatballs splat on top. The closer he gets, the faster your heart pumps. Setting the plate down on the bedside table, he takes your iguana from your tight hold. Mr. Cupcake still thrashes in his grasp, trying to bite and hit wherever he can. Good boy.

When the beast is locked away, Mike is idyllic to be alone with you again. He acts as though the current circumstances were romantic, where you and him are enjoying an amorous vacation. He then places the meal carefully in your lap, wary of the hot plate burning your precious skin.

"You need to eat, cub. You've been through so much. Too much." Mike's hand finds your face again, thumb caressing your cheek.

His mere words make you want to vomit your breakfast all over what is supposed to be your dinner. Still, you obey and begin eating. The dish is mediocre, at best. You've tasted better from the kitchen play set where your students wear chef hats and cook plastic food. Kidnapped and trapped in a basement, however, you'll take whatever scraps you can get.

Eyes glued to your plate, you do not watch as Mike takes a movie from the cabinet and pops it into the VCR. "The Immortal and the Restless" whirs to life as he returns to where you sit. Mike lays down beside you and joins you beneath the warm comforter. He takes the fork from your hands. A shiver cascades up his arm upon the faint contact made by your fingers touching. Oh, it is love. He then begins to feed you. There is nothing but sugary madness in his eyes.

Bite by bite, you are forced to watch soap operas and listen to nauseating love declarations.

"I was so alone out there without you, baby."

If only you hadn't been so fooled by a security vest and pretty brown eyes, you could be with your students right now. You could be free right now.

If only.

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

❝ PRAYING STRAIGHT TO GOD THAT

MAYBE YOU'LL COME BACK AROUND . . . ❞

no one asked for this but idc hehe.

gif creds :: mike.

[frogspond200]

Could you do some Yandere Mike Schimit hc?

𝚈𝚊𝚗!𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚝 𝙷𝙲𝚜

𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: 𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚗

𝙰𝚜𝚔: 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚝 𝙷𝙲𝚜

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛, a bit of sfw

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Mike is extraordinarily possessive of you, convinced that you belong to him and only him. He’s fiercely protective, often going to extreme lengths to keep you safe, even if it means eliminating anyone he perceives as a threat, or beating the ever-living shit out of a man in public for eyeing you…Any sign of closeness between you and another person triggers intense jealousy in him. He becomes volatile and irrationally angry, often resulting in him isolating you from the outside world.

Mike uses his affections as a tool for manipulation, employing sweet words and gestures to keep you under his control. He’ll guilt-trip or emotionally manipulate you into staying close, or even use Abby as to why you need to stay. Abby needs you of course, you are like a big sister to her. Why would you want to leave her?

He collects personal items belonging to you, considering them as prized possessions. These could range from something as simple as a hairpin to more intimate belongings…

His idea of protection extends to controlling your actions and choices, dictating what you can or cannot do to ensure your safety, regardless of your wishes.

If Mike perceives someone as a threat to you or your relationship, he won’t hesitate to take drastic measures to kill them from the picture, showing a dull and ominous side.

His behavior oscillates between intense affection and possessiveness to erratic outbreaks of bitterness or aggression, making you feel constantly on edge around him.

If you one day you were scared shitless of him Mike would likely become even more vigilant and overprotective, constantly assuring you of your safety in his presence. He might restrict your movements further, believing it’s for your own good. He may apologize for frightening you but in a possessive manner, reassuring you that he’ll never let anyone or anything hurt you, perhaps showering you with excessive attention and gifts to prove his devotion.

His treatment could be a rollercoaster of extremes—swinging between overwhelming displays of love, affection, and promises of protection to moments of intense possessiveness and controlling behavior…but In rare vulnerable moments, he might show glimpses of remorse for scaring you, promising to change or control his temper, but his possessiveness often overshadows any true change.

[spooklies]

# Taste - Yan!Mike Schmidt x F!Reader

♡ ... › Everything about you was perfect. Someday, he hopes you see yourself the way he does.

— Words - 600+

♡ ... › Warning(s) - Mentions of a previous drugging. Slight physical harm. Mike’s a bit of a perv.

— A/N - Something short I wrote to get a feel for writing again. Enjoy <3

Mike brushes away the few strands that flowed onto her face and then gently pinches those strands as if he were memorizing the texture and length to memory. He’s learned so much in the time you’ve worked under him yet somehow he had no idea about the way your hair reacted when twirled, or how feathery soft the ends were when pressed against the pads of his fingers. Ingraining the memory of your hair may have been insignificant to most, but to him it was a part of the many reasons why he found himself smitten with you.

There’s so much more to you and it's killing him inside that he’s only able to grasp what’s presented to him on the surface. Like a butterfly hit with a particularly strong breeze your eyelids flutter open. Those beautiful and glossy eyes of yours perceiving him through a sleep-induced haze that you tried to shake away with a few toss and turns of your head. Upon the groan you let slip Mike instinctively grabbed ahold of your chin, keeping your gaze on him and from wondering elsewhere.

“Hey, take it easy, there’s no rush.” As always you were stubborn. He could tell you still weren’t completely deprived of your will by the way you attempted to free your chin. But Mike’s always been someone who’s had to adapt – his willingness to compromise outmatching any of your stubborn fits you still liked to display. “I said, take it easy.” His grip became vice-like and that’s what got you to settle. You still appeared trapped in delusions, an Alice running from the world she brought upon herself.

This was your fault, after all. And much like Alice, you have no one but to blame but yourself. 

“If you move around so much you’ll probably give yourself an even worse headache.” To emphasize his point he began harshly shaking your head back and forth, only regretting it when your attention left him in favor of screwing your eyelids shut. You groaned out a quiet plea, wanting him to stop so he did. “What? Isn’t that what you wanted?” You opted to sniffle out a barely concealed sob instead of speaking. That was fine with him though, he didn’t need you to say anything to understand what you felt or thought about something. He believes he knows you well enough to be able to make these translations himself. “Doesn’t feel so nice, does it?” He flicked your chin away and stood up, feeling a drop of water land on his head and the distant echo of traffic from outside the house. His basement wasn’t the most ideal place for him to house you in but with everything you’ve done it’s the place you’re most deserving of. 

“I’ll be back after work.” He told her apologetically. The constant shifts of emotions he went through was enough to give anyone whiplash. “If Abby tells me you’ve been loud then I won’t hesitate to muzzle you. Is that what you want to happen, Y/n?” At his inquiry you squirmed, shaking your head in denial and then stopping right after. Mike smiled, pleased with how quickly you were adapting. “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t. So let’s not make this drugging thing a habit anymore, okay?” He didn’t like having to do these sorts of things but if his hand was forced then what else was he supposed to do? 

You graced him with one last look of acknowledgement before seemingly drifting back off into your little wonderland. Mike couldn’t help himself and immediately knelt back down, cupping your face in his hand and swiping his thumb against the droplet of water you produced. Mike brought that same thumb to his lips, his tongue wrapping around his fingers and his lungs contracting as he sucked the taste of you off himself. You were perfect. And the way you tasted proved that fact tenfold. 

[thornsinmycrown]

PROTECTION | HEADCANONS

YANDERE!Mike Schmidt x GN!BABYSITTER!READER

warnings: [ MDNI +18 ] kidnapping, yandere, obsessive, isolating, stalking behavior, mention of sexual themes. word count: 731

summary: he just wants his little sister's babysitter to be safe.

He totally has a "crush" on you, something innocent at first. It's undeniable to this point, Abby draws you with them and her friends, there's a big wall wrapped in her drawings like wallpaper, her big brother and yourself holding hands with cute little red hearts all around you.

He talks about you at dinner time, asking Abby how did you treat her and if you were nice for the day, he promised her that you will always stay with them, that he would find a way to make you stay forever.

You know he hasn't had an easy life, talking to you in confidence about Garrett and how he couldn't save him, the way he feels about failing his own family and you admire his compromise over Abby.

Sometimes he takes it to extremes, overprotecting her and doing what you and the little girl consider dismissing fun time.

At first it seemed to be something normal to you, she was the only of his family left, the constant reminder of how lonely and how lucky he was to still have a bond with his parents at the same time, but with time you grew tired of wiping Abby's tears that were actually cried over nothing.

The first time you two had the talk and spoke about it, he was in denial. Mike assured he wasn't controlling Abby's life, he was keeping her safe from the dangers of the world.

You try to remind him what is obvious, that she is a kid and kids need to play and make friends, have fun and enjoy childhood.

He immediately felt bad watching you yell at him to make him take in count the child's feelings, and that's when he realized how important you were — how much of his tiny family needed a mediator like you.

He resents —and admires— your humanity. He is aggressive, cunning, rough to any edge, and deep down he knows you are too, except you don't let that take away your compassion.

Mike yearns for every piece of you now, any kind of affection is well received, whether it is a simple greeting or a friendly waving hand, he even prepares himself to gently smile no matter how awkward it feels, your small confused nodding gesture gets him every time.

You don't judge his incapacity to retain any job and he feels maybe you're the only person in the world who actually understands his struggles — his failures.

When he starts working at Fazbear's he fears he could be loading you too much responsibility, working the night shift wasn't his ideal and, though you'd never let him down, he felt worried you two were going to be alone for so many hours.

The first three nights everything was alright, until the fourth happened.

Animatronics chasing down his little sister was the last straw, it made him snap inevitably, you and Abby weren't safe at all, any time you could be murdered by any of them and there wouldn't be a way to save you.

He fears losing you, what would he do without you?

You help him get rid of them for the little girl's sake, temporarily disabling the animatronics like Vanesa instructed, but you get hurt in the process.

The yellow bunny twists the knife inside you, you let him in order to protect Abby, and it doesn't cost you as much as it costs Mike.

The idea of your loss only fuels Mike's grief, it's like losing his family all over again, but this time will be different — this time he has the chance to change the ending.

You wake up in a hospital bed, your ribcage hurts and you have an injured leg, the first thing your eyes see are his, red puffy eyes full of pain.

A week passes so you can leave the hospital, and he has a room for you in the house.

You try to explain to him you have a place to live since you rent a shared room with another person, but he insists you're not safe there.

"What if he comes back and tries to hurt you again?" "What if this time he—?" He cannot even end the sentence, he can only imagine the worst.

You agree to stay for a couple of days while your injuries heal, yet the unsettling part is just about to begin for you.

Author's note: I had in mind this headcanons since the first time I saw the movie and once I left the theater I started working on them but just release them now because I couldn't finish them in a way I like until today. I'll do a second part to this just because I think it has more potential to add to his character.

[myussytastelikeapple]

look if I’m going to be fr I haven’t watched all Josh husterson movie (the movie that he has been) and so I going to base everything from my own little eye that have read some of his characters. 😭the only character Ik is Mike and peeta. But I need to rewatch hunger games so it only one. ☠️

Clapton x (Kinda shy) kind/sweetheart!reader (female)

And so I wanted to request a Clapton where he is a ghostface whos killed his bullies and those who’s touch reade. his obsession. like reader is a sweetheart towards Clapton and she was the only person who’s help him out when he was being bullied. Not even the people that was walking by the hallway or seeing him on the floor getting his ass beat. NO only you did and I feel like Clapton would have a crush on you when you save him. and by now he had a huge crush on you. Literal dreamed about you on his laps. And having wet dreams about you. But the way the guys talk to you,making you laugh,smile, just wanted to kill that person.it should be him.only him. and so he killed his bully.one.by.one. (And it’s reader and Clapton at his house sitting in the couch.Idk if he have parents I havent watched the movie 😭) And soo it scared reader from the sudden death in which reader overthink that she be next,but Clapton was always there for you. which you hug him and always holding his hands or when calpton hair is in the way front of his head,which you move it behind his ear.and lord I bet this loser of a guy and a killer would definitely be flustered.which make him to the unexpected a kiss you on the spot and it turn into a make out session 🤭. And which he become more of aggressive and was ripping reader shirt off and start licking,marking, and kissing reader kiss, as reader become more nervous and shy and is covered her face with her wrist. And- and -a-

you probably know what else is happening 🤭. ( smut/fluff ? can you make clapton eating out of reader ? Oral f and m ? both are virgin pls.) I’m SO SORRY if this is out of character and pls correct me. I literally tried😭 I will watch the movie of this character (one of Josh husteron AND I HOPE I SPell his last name right) also I’m so sorry if this request is long😭. And I’m really sorry if this is bad at explaining this. I tried.

I ABSOLUTLY LOVE THIS IDEA ANON I ALWAYS WANTED TO WRITE SUM LIKE THISSS OMG OMGGG BUT YOU CHOSEE THE RIGHT PERSONN I am working on pt.2 of are you jealous!

Should I do shared POV’s like Clapton’s POV then readers POV?

[cry1ngchild]

Yandere Michael Afton Headcanons

hehe yandere brain rot at the moment

- He is a very obsessive yandere however not that possessive

- Considering his background he could never bring himself to try and isolate you from family- friends? he’s perhaps a bit more vocal about however if he doesn’t like one of your friends, maybe he just doesn’t mesh well with them or they try say something about him, he will make sure they never see you again. You’ll most likely be non the wiser to why they started ghosting you

- He’s sweet to you, always doing small things for you and big things, really anything he can do he will do it with no hesitation

- He always wants some sort of attention from you, he may not say it but his body language is very obvious, he’s either leaning on you, randomly hugging you, pouting, may even just pick you up and hide you somewhere with him

- You could be a close friend or a lover

- He would never go to hurt you or anything, he would never hurt anyone else in front of you. You being scared of him is probably one of his biggest fears so he’s extremely careful and sneaky

- He wishes he could just have you all to himself all of the time

- After all, you are his. after everything you are his compensation :)

[nonalcoholicbeer]

my attempt to draw Mike Schmidt (the eyes of an unrequited man in love?)

this is the first version (here is the look of a man tired of life)

[salfishersstuff]

Hi, welcome to my Tumblr. I love to interact with different people and I'm very receptive (⁠ ⁠･ั⁠﹏⁠･ั⁠) I also have a another blog dedicated only to The Sims contents and gossip about my sims called @livinsims

My special interests are:

•alt culture (I'm emo, so posts about this are very common here)

•The Adventures of tintin

•Josh Hutcherson (my main and favorite interest, he's my entire life ๑⁠♡♡⁠๑)

•Sally Face (Larry 🖤)

•Stardew Valley (Sebastian 🖤)

•Evan Peters

•The old Dream Smp members (Quackity, Dteam, Karl) but Wilbur stans DNI

•Minecraft

•Five Night at Freddy's

•Yandere Simulator

•BTS⁷

•Exo⁹

•Bigbang⁵

•Shinee⁵

•seventeen¹³

•Kpop boy groups in general

[janitorhutcherson]

i love clapton davis send all clapton davis content to me plz asap i need more

[mo0nfairy]

𖥔 ࣪ ㅤ۪ 🪷 🪺 ⸺   𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐭    !

♫ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭 — 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞

˚ ✩ 🥕 ｡ ˚ ✧ * ｡ 🧤

𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

( 📦 ) . . .  𝗔 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘 𝗜𝗡 𝗡𝗘𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗞𝗔, 𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗺𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗺𝗶𝗱𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝘀 𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

( 📦 ) . . .  𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗲𝘁.

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

( 📦 ) . . .  𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗲𝘁.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬

( 📦 ) . . .  𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗲𝘁.

[frogspond200]

HI! Hello, I was wondering since you had your requests open if you could do a Yandere Mike Schmidt fic? If not that’s fine! :)

𝚈𝚊𝚗!𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚝'𝚜

Requested by: @bisoudoll

Ask: Hi! Hello, I was wondering since you had your request open if you could do a yandere Mike Schmidt’s fic?

Warning: General Yandere's behavior, a pinch of sfw

Word count: 238

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

As I stepped into the dark room, my heart raced with a mix of paranoia and fear. The animatronics stood before me, their glowing eyes piercing through the darkness. Their menacing laughter echoed through the halls, sending shivers down my spine.

Without warning, the animatronics began to move. They lunged towards me, their metal limbs clanking against the floor. Hysteria consumed me as I ran, trying desperately to escape their relentless pursuit.

I was knocked onto the cold hard ground, my head a shooting pain causing me to cry out in pain, one of the animatronics grabbed me by my shirt, and dragged me into a dark room… I struggled to break free, but it was no use. The animatronic had a tight grip and I couldn't escape. I could feel my heart pounding as I awaited my fate.

I was thrown back onto the ground, I whimpered and crawled away, holding my twisted ankle close to my body, as they left a dark figure came in…I squinted my watery eyes to find Mike…he kneeled down and stocked my cheek “Mike… what's going on? Please. I'm scared”

He showed no remorse and even smiled. He grabbed my hair and pulled me closer, whispering in my ear "I'm sorry for this baby but it's for your own good". I was confused before feeling something hit my head making me black out.

I felt a sharp pain as I came to, and I realized that I'd been hit in the head with something. I opened my eyes to see my captor standing over me, with a smirk on his face. I try to get up to face him but was yanked back down with cold chains around my wrist...

I whimpered, fear coursing through every inch of my body. He stepped closer and leaned down, his breath hot on my face. "You feel safe don't you...you'll like it momentarily, you will appreciate those tight bonds on you and how secure they keep you. I'll make sure of it sweetheart” he whispered. It would make you sound safe if your eyes were closed but in reality, it was hostile…

He stroked my face gently with the back of his hand, he was seated at the edge of the bed, the room was sluggish, and the only light was the lamp on the bedside table. His gaze was intense, as if he was looking for something in my eyes.

He leaned in closer to kiss my cheek, groping my thigh firmly to make sure I wouldn't try to shift away. I felt my heart racing as I felt my body responding to his touch. I closed my eyes, feeling a wave of enjoyment wash over me. He pulled away slowly, giving me one prior lingering look before he walked out the door.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐲𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

William Afton

Unemployed part one (yan!william)

Unemployed part two

Unemployed part three

Unemployed part four

Unemployed part five

Unemployed part six

Nside (smut)

Cute (fluff)

Partner in crime

Smoke break (platonic)

Betrayal (angst)

Doll

Flustered

No matter what

William fucking reader in suit* (18+ obvi)

William doin the deed w reader in suit w more elaboration *

One day

True love

Slippery

William w criminology major reader smut*

True love

The dark (comfort)

Mine

Mike Schmidt

Cookies

Cookies part two

Yandere!mike hcs

Relax

Mike being a much *

Mike eating pussy*

[sweets4dolls]

𝑔𝓊𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

fyi ¡! ❞

most of my fics contain submissive + crybaby coded readers and will be described as soft, cute, n small, so I will be less inclined to take asks about anything other than those types!

dni ¡! ❞

if you are anti dark content. self harm blogs. ed blogs. basic dni's.

writing rules ¡! ❞

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ love to write. fem!reader. angst. yandere. power imbalance. toxic relationships. extreme dubious consent. age gaps (legal). ddlg undertones. blackmailing. kidnapping. manipulation. ੈ♡˳nsfw. breeding. dumbification. coercion. dacryphilia. somnophilia. free use. sex tapes. virginity kink. innocence kink. dollification.

◛˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ will not write. male reader. gn reader. top/extreme dom reader. real people. pedophilia. excessive bodily fluids (piss, scat, vomit, etc). suicide. eating disorders. self-harm. pegging. ageplay & regression. pregnancy. cucking. anything I don't want to. anything I don't feel comfortable with. specific descriptions of the reader (i.e. skin color, body type, etc.), readers will always be cute, soft, n small as stated before.

fandoms ¡! ❞

hazbin hotel. helluva boss. spiderverse. avatar the way of water. dc. house of the dragon. game of thrones. asoiaf. the hunger games. pjo. harry potter. the marauders. fnaf. genshin impact. heathers. star wars. gen v. the boys. scream. yellowjackets. scott pilgrim vs the world + takes off. twisted wonderland. the sandman. blue-eyed samurai. mortal kombat. obey me!. twtptflob. deadly class. the lost boys. invincible. john wick. jjk.

fav characters ¡! ❞

lute. striker. crimson. hobie brown. neteyam. john constantine. jason todd. selina kyle. conner kent. bruce wayne. jacaerys velaryon. aegon ii. daeron targaryen. daenerys targaryen. cersei lannister. robb stark. viserys iii. maegor targaryen. finnick odair. haymitch abernathy. coriolanus snow. jason grace. luke castellan. piper mclean. tom riddle. regulus black. william afton. mike schmidt. alhaitham. neuvillette. jason dean. heather chandler. anakin skywalker. cate dunlap. sam riordan. homelander. soldier boy. micky altieri. billy loomis. lottie matthews. jackie taylor. todd ingram. envy adams. leona kingscholar. malleus draconia. floyd leech. morpheus. mizu. mileena. johnny cage. bi han. satan. mammon. belphegor. dion agriche. jeremy agriche. marcus lopez. paul. dwayne. john wick. nolan grayson. mark grayson. marquis de gramont. gojo saturo. geto suguru. sukuna ryomen.

[bluessmutifyplaylist]

A Peak Into My Inbox

Navier Trovi x Beidou!Reader - Midnight Rendezvous

Malleus Draconia x Male!Power Bottom!Reader

Navier Trovi x Male!Malleus!Reader

Luca Kaneshiro x Fem!Reader

Ei x Fem!Reader - Chubby Bunny Challenge

Vil Schoenheit x Male!Reader - Pretty Doll

Azul Ashengrotto x Reader - Sex with a Cecaelia

Sultan!Jamil Viper x Concubine!Reader

Cater Diamond x Reader x Trey Clover - Gangbang and Voyeurism

Deuce Spade x Fem!Reader - Pussydrunk

Jade Leech x Fem!Reader x Floyd Leech - "Research"

Ruggie/Jamil/Kalim/Silver (Separately) x Reader - Cockwarming

Rook Hunt x Bratty!Bunny!Reader - Overstimulation

Dancer!Jamil x Fem!Reader x Sultan!Kalim - Cuckolding(?)

Bratty!Ace Trappola x Dommy Mommy!Reader - Pegging

Kalim Al Asim x Reader x Silver - Double penetration

Jamil Viper x Fem!Reader x Ruggie Bucchi - Punishment (for Ruggie)

Mike Schmidt (Movie) x Trans Male!Reader - Praise

Everyone in TWST x Fem!Cheshire Cat!Reader - All sorts of horny

Leona Kingscholar x Fem!Reader x Overblot!Leona - Sharing

Yandere!Riddle/Kalim/Jamil x Fem!Reader - Runaway Bride

Vil Schoenheit x Fem!Doll!Reader

Malleus Draconia x Male or GN!Reader - Passionate Kisses

[cherryc1nnam0n]

Cherry's Favorites Part 3

Contains NSFW, blood, dark themes and more, just my personal favorites, many characters and topics

Take me away

Yandere!Eddie baby trapping you

Obey your master

Like an animal

A good morning to you

Hands on you

I got you baby

More bully Eddie

Worms

NSFW Headcanons of Eddie Munson

Angel and Demon AU horny blurb

Virgin!Eddie

Between four walls | Alpha!Eddie

Eddie is a grower

Alpha!Eddie fucking your brains out

Alpha!Eddie in rut

More alpha!Eddie

Eddie horny blurb

Angel!Steve fucking you silly

Eddie fucking you so hard

Spread your legs wider

Strawberries

Lazily sucking Eddie

Eat me out Eddie

Dadbod!Spencer breeding you

Eddie tying his hair with your panties

Angel!Steve fucking you again

Mommy

Eddie loves thicc

This rockstar Eddie is too hot

Taco bout it

Bottom Eddie? Nah

Masturbating Eddie

How he fucks

Foursome that's so hot

Taking care of Steve

Needy Eddie

Sub!Spencer

Stepbro!Eddie

Modern!Eddie needs to taste you all the time

John Doe pregnancy kink

Brahm's NSFW alphabet

Virgin!Bigdick!Eddie

Heaven

Lifeguard!Eddie

Sexshopworker!Eddie

Be a good girl for Daddy

Sleepy grinding

Toy Eddie

Pay attention to me

Stepdad!dark!Eddie

Better than you do

Bets with Eddie

Steve's balls

Eddie's wet hair

Treat you right

Grinding on Eddie

Older!Eddie and his big cock

Compliments

Friction

But you don't even like karaoke

Saving this for later

Private viewing

Joe is thicc

Saving for later

Hopper kinks

A hard worker

Wolf!Wilbur in heat

Cockwarming Wilbur

Collar

Saving this

Stepdad!Wilbur

Ethan breeding you

Can't get rid of me

I'm right here | Billy Loomis

First times | Ethan Landry

Double penetration

NSFW Alphabet

Angels with filthy souls

Movement | Mike Schmidt

Mike filming you

Ghostface!Eddie

Footlong

Yes pleaseee