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#five fanfic
c0ffee-stain · 1 year
Text
Whispers
Five Hargreeves x f!reader
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Blurb • Prologue - 1.0 • Chapter 1 - 1.01 • Chapter 2 - 1.02 • Chapter 3 - 1.03 • Chapter 4 - 1.04 • Chapter 5 - 1.05 • Chapter 6 - 1.06 • Chapter 7 - 1.07 • Chapter 8 •
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Warning: Contains: fighting, blood, the usual swearing
Nothing But a Puppet
Date: REDACTED, 1955 Location: TEMPS COMMISSION HQ Time: REDACTED
Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.
The shattering of glass rattled the Commissions first floor and everyone nearby. I reached for anything closest to me, in this case a stapler, and threw it with a great force through a large glass barrier dividing a few analysts and their seniors.
I dragged the back of my hand across the gash cut along my cheek bone and winced slightly after discovering yet again another bruise.
My tongue throbbed slightly, trying to distract my mind from formulating a well-planned murder that involved two people. A blonde with no wish other than to make my life a living hell, and- I couldn’t even finish the thought as it seemed so ridiculous in the first place. Not my plan that’d bring me nothing but glee, but the fact that I had to deal with this asshole in the first place.
I scoffed as blood slowly pooled into my mouth, the rich metallic taste forcing the corners of mouth to twist upwards in rage, forming a smile which didn't reach my eyes.
I took my gun out of my pocket and sighed inwardly, quickly remembering I was out of bullets. But that was fine. It wasn’t like a certain Handlers office was a fully loaded arsenal.
Plenty of weapons to use in there.
With every step I took, a group of eyes would avert my way, whispers of gossip accompanying their intrusive stares as they layed their eyes on my bruised, battered, and bloodied body.
Envy of my past reputation overtook my mind and any ounce of self-respect I once had left was long gone. Before, those pathetic workers didn't dare lay their eyes on me for too long in fear of my reputation and I was able to slip under the radar unnoticed and undisturbed. But it seemed that my previous engagement had circulated around the headquarters faster than I could've disposed of the evidence.
Finally reaching her office, I slammed my bruised fists against her door, repeatedly, trying to keep myself from wrenching the door out of its place and grabbing her by the neck. I slammed my fists once more until the door was pulled open, my eyes meeting the woman’s stare that was clearly trying to hide her irritation. Whether it was the fact that I was alive or that I had interrupted her beauty sleep, I would never know.
“Oh, It's you.” She looked me up and down, forcing a smile onto her red coated lips. “Come in. Or are you unable to control yourself with so many weapons present? It’ll be a shame to cut our deal short.”
“If I didn’t have any self control you would’ve been six feet under from the very moment I met you.”
The woman chuckled bitterly, her eyes drifting to the crowd now roaming behind us, waiting eagerly for her response.
“Why don’t we take this to my office. I’ve got a jar of candy calling your name.”
I followed her in, The Handlers white glossy heels clacking audibly before taking a seat behind her desk.
“You’ve got something on your teeth.” She spoke, watching her nails momentarily after inspecting my dishevelled figure. “Blood, to be precise.” With a manicured hand, she pushed a crystal vase that held mountains of hard candies towards me.
"I'm hoping you're here to tell me how..." The woman's lips faltered into a smirk as she tried to keep her expression neutral. "successful you're assignment went."
“How successful my assignment went...” Exasperation was clear in my voice.
"Yes, I suspect that everything went according to plan."
My teeth clenched as I seethed, "So being on the receiving end of an assassination order from one of your henchmen was part of my fucking mission?"
“Whatever do you mean? I helped you. Put one of the Commissions best assassins by your side.” The Handler leaned back, brushing invisible lint off of her 80’s styles dress. Her electric blue eyes narrowed as an annoyed smile pulled slightly at the tips of her mouth. She watched as I menacingly leaned in and planted my hands firmly onto her desk.
I dragged my tongue along the red staining the white of my teeth. “Now tell me,” A mocking smile adorned my lips. “why the fuck did you send one of your puppets to kill me?”
— ONE HOUR AGO - Date: 2nd of April, 2002 Location: Unknown Location, England Time: 23:55
I tied the cord around his plump neck, watching him squirm and gasp to get as much air as he could into his lungs, his blue veins bulging against the papery white of his skin. The moment the newly lifeless body dropped onto the filthy carpeted floor joining the 5 others, I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and sighed.
Here they were. The main members of the Lionheart Mob.
Dead.
I looked around the damp living room, signs of break in and fighting evident in the knocked over and broken furniture, and blood splattered along the walls and already dirty carpet. My nose scrunched automatically at the stench.
I picked up my weapons and slid them back into my pockets, letting my eyes wonder around the crime scene once more after wiping down and ridding any evidence for the police to use from the house, except from one particular strand of hair.
I had instructions to leave the bodies as they are to let the police find them. Two of them had died from strangulation, three from blood loss from stab wounds to the kidney, and the other dying from blunt force trauma to the back of the head.
Just as I was ordered.
I, on the other hand, suffered no injury of any sorts. Some may say silently bragging to the dead would bring one horrible misfortune and fate. Not that it would stop me.
With light movements, I exited the house and closed the door gently behind me, finally being able to breathe in the fresh country air.
The sky had darkened from a soft navy blue to near black, the only source of light being the distant gleams of stars and the half crescent moon hanging idly in the sky. I covered my head with the hood of my jacket and proceeded to walk down the street that dipped downhill, stuffing my hands into my pockets to hide the blood splattered over my palm and under my nails.
For a while, my near silent footsteps were all that could be heard in the midst of the abandoned countryside of England, apart from the occasional drunken screams and wails. But no matter how peaceful the country posed itself to be, the eerie feeling that someone or something was watching me never faltered once.
The blade of my dagger was placed strategically under my jacket, and my gun strapped against my side. Funny how even my most useful and deadliest asset came nowhere close to the sturdiness and swiftness of my weapons.
‘So you think a few rusty pieces of metal compares to the abilities of a God?’
My body jumped at the sudden deep vibrations rattling at the back of my skull.
“Then you shouldn't be surprised that a human like me can't control a God like yourself.” I retorted, my words dripping in sarcasm. "At least I have control over those 'rusty pieces of metal'."
No matter how satisfying it felt to snap back, I immediately regretted my decision as millions of laughs, each barely above a whisper, echoed off of the walls of my skull.
It felt like millions of needles being stabbed into my brain repeatedly.
‘What makes you think you don't have control?’
I kissed my teeth and tried to distract that little part of me that wanted to reply and engage with its forbidden words. I could hear the amusement in its question. "Everything", Was what I wanted to say. But I kept my mouth shut and looked ahead.
They laughed once again.
I didn’t reply but pondered quietly. I had never been religious. My mother had always believed in a higher power. Whether it was the all-powerful being we call God, or many more of His names, or something different all together. Nevertheless, she believed. Something I just couldn’t find myself doing.
The only person I could have faith in was myself. A proportionate fate for someone like me.
It could tell I was deep in thought, my mind wavering from one conclusion to another, oblivious to the threat mere metres away from me. Usually, the voices would warn me when something strange was afoot or of any potential dangers. But it wanted to wait. To see how long I could go without the assistance I had gotten used to having my whole life.
An experiment.
Just like my thoughts, I couldn’t keep my eyes fixed on one place for too long. Every moment my gaze was fixed on something new as if expecting something to jump out from the shadows and swallow me whole.
Finally my suspicions were confirmed once my gaze ended its useless wavering and locked onto another a pair of eyes. My mind immediately flashed back to my case file of known associates of the Lionheart Mob.
The man I was ordered to frame.
The man and I kept eye-contact longer than intended, thoughts of fight or flight running through each of our minds.
There was nothing I could do or say to prevent this from becoming a tiring chase through the isolated region of the country, so I decided on the next best option.
Before the target could give into his flight response, I removed my gun from its once strapped position and began to shoot, a bullet just grazing his cheek before he could make a run for it.
My legs had a mind of their own, sprinting towards the target the moment he ran with my arm stretched in front of me, gun in hand. I took a shot, then another, then another, each missing as the man swerved with the endless streets branching off of the main road.
I was quickly out of bullets.
For every step I took forcing me further into the chase, the feeling of danger deep in the pit of my stomach only grew. My breathing began to deepen as drops of sweat slowly pooled down the side of my head, only to be dried by the ruthless wind whipping against my face.
I watched as he jumped over a fence, and I quickly followed, a grin curving on my lips once a large gate came into view. The man was rather short, so it should take him a few seconds extra than normal to cross the barrier. More than enough time for me close the gap between us.
I grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him harshly towards the ground, smirking as his sliced cheek broke his fall. I threw my foot back and slammed it against his ribs. He released a pained groan and I kicked him again, and again, and again.
“A well deserved punishment for someone making me run for so long, don’t you think?”
The man began to cough violently after another strike to his ribs, blood splattering onto the ground with every cough.
“Seems like I’ve broken several ribs.” I kneeled beside him. “They’ve punctured your lungs. Soon you'll start to drown in your own blood, and well... die.”
“I can help you. Relieve you from your pain if you tell me how you knew I’d be here.” The man watched me cautiously, flinching as I held the back of his head, gripping his hair tightly. “All I need is a name.”
The man swallowed thickly and averted his eyes from one side and back. “It…” He opened his mouth, hesitation clear. I dug my nails into the flesh of his skull, breaking through the layers of skin.
He winced as tears threatened to spill from his eyes.
“It was...”
His eyes shifted to the side.
“…him."
BOOM
I spun my head around the direction the bullet was shot, only to be blinded by a flash of blue and a foot being swung at my face. I barely had any time to react, but was able to evade just in time.
I fell on my back and quickly leapt onto my feet waiting to be greeted by another attack which never came. I furrowed my brows and my forehead creased, letting my eyes scour the area only to come up empty handed with a mutilated corpse right beside me.
The common feeling of blood had drenched my palms in an instant once the bullet was shot through the side of his skull. My brain hadn't fully registered the moments part of his ear were blown off, making way for the bullet to exit his body. I peered down at his mutilated head, the only emotion consuming my body being annoyance and hatred for the man.
This situation, right now, right here, was supposed to be impossible. This mission was crucial to the deal. It was the only chance I had left. Without it, I was back to being The Handlers little bloodhound on a leash, ready to execute all orders with no hesitation. Back to being a creature of sin that couldn't possibly stray any further from God.
In the midst of my endless train of thought was when I saw it. The dim light from a lamppost hit against a small piece of metal a few metres away from me. I approached the bullet, taking it into my hands and held the bloodied object towards the light.
My lips parted as my gaze met a familiar imprint. "You've got to be kidding me..."
The words left my lips in a hurried whisper while I inspected the awfully familiar crest imprinted on the reddened copper. There it was, clear as day like the thousands of alter-egos that bitch of a Handler was housing.
The Commissions crest.
My lips pressed into a sneer. I dug my canines into my tongue to stop myself from saying three specific words that would end this fucked-up situation I've been living my whole life. Three simple commands and the beasts I've been housing for a lifetime would shred The Handler into pieces.
'What are you waiting for, bloodhound? Her permission? Just end it all.'
No matter how much my mind craves to see The Handler kneeled before me and begging for her life, I couldn't do that to him. I had to remind myself that I was doing this for him. Not for my own selfish gain.
It was for Jasper.
I took a deep breath in attempt to reel in my thoughts.
My fingers travelled through the knotted mess of my hair. I couldn't help but scoff. "Of course it was a fucking set up."
"So then you know what happens next." A voice spoke behind me, followed by a cock of a gun.
I didn't bother turning back to meet the hard stare of my attacker, but proceeded to watch the crest deeply, as if trying to fool myself into thinking I was dreaming. But the stench of the corpse, and the rush of the wind yanking me back to reality said otherwise.
I threw the bullet to the side and wiped the blood on my hands against my sides.
"No, I don't know actually." I slowly turned around on my heels to face the man, confronting his hard glare with my own uncaring one. I cocked my head to the side, challengingly. "Why don't you remind me?"
I felt a rush of adrenaline sore through my veins as the whispers began to get louder..
The click of his tongue rang through the alleyway. The man scoffed in agitation.
"Gladly," He began, slimming his deep green eyes, and watched my reaction once the distance between his finger and the trigger narrowed.
A familiar source of power devoured my body. The shadows that stretched against the concrete and towering brick walls shifted manically, dancing in celebration to be alive once more.
My hazed stare flickered from one thing to another as I relished in the tingling sensation burning through me.
'Kill him.'
My pupils dilated.
'Kill them all.'
My heart was racing.
'We know you want to.'
"Any last words?" He called, as if taunting me.
I snapped my head up and focussed my eyes on the target, then at the collection of abandoned buildings a good distance away.
"I think I should be asking you the same thing." My body moved on autopilot, my mind too preoccupied on the sensation burning through my veins. I was now a few measured steps closer to the assassin. "So tell me, then,"
The hardened gaze that I kept sternly focussed on the male hadn't faltered once, opposing the restlessness and unease of the shadows "any last words?"
My wrist snapped upwards before I could properly register what I was about to do. The shadows beneath the mans feet rose around him and the world seemed to stop spinning.
My eyes were pulled wide while I watched in anticipation. The shadows merged into hands as they rose from the depths of the darkness and latched themselves onto the agent, covering his body faster than I could blink. I stepped forwards, pulling my arms back before pushing them in-front of me. The shadows followed suit, launching the man they held captive into the buildings nearby.
Dust and rubble exploded from the collision, along with splatters of blood on the loose debris.
I licked my lips and sighed glad to have squished another pest crawling around in my way.
Next was The Handler.
I picked up the gun he had dropped and walked towards the collapsed building, releasing the bullets on top of the bloody debris while strolling to the agents 'burial site' as I doubted he would be anywhere but smashed under the concrete.
"Rest in pieces, asshole."
I took in several deep breaths to level the adrenaline I felt myself drown in. I couldn’t lose control. No matter how much I itched to dive deeper into the ins and outs of my abilities like I did years ago, it was too risky.
It was too soon. But it wasn’t too soon to kill The Handler as I did to her puppet. I turned around, the taste of freedom fresh of my tongue and my guard lowered.
A fatal mistake.
A hand slammed into my shoulder blade from behind to stop me from moving any further.
"Now, where do you think you're going..." A raspy voice spat behind me. "...bloodhound?"
I twisted my neck to the side just enough for my peripheral vision to catch the large pair of green eyes bearing into mine. Blood dripped from a large gash on his forehead, painting his whole face a deep crimson. His laboured breaths hit the back of my nape making my hairs stand.
"What do you propose we do then," I licked my lips. "number five."
His grip on my shoulder tightened, and I could practically feel the rage radiating off of him through the wide smirk etched across his lips. My body began to respond to the adrenaline pulsing through my veins as the corners of my mouth and fingers twitched in anticipation for another fight. Another excuse to use my powers. The only thing I wanted to do right now, right this second, was-
A flash of blue light engulfed the area, blinding me for a moment before I was able to notice the large piece of concrete being launched towards me, held tightly in his cut hands.
I shifted out of the way, relishing in my increased reaction time, and span on my heel, sending a spinning hook kick to the back of his head. I made contact but it was short lived with his fist suddenly in front of my face and punched my jaw forcing my head to snap to the side, small pools of blood building up in my mouth.
Before his knuckles could leave my face, I latched my hands onto the assassins arm, spinning on my heels so my back faced him and threw his body over mine, slamming him onto the ground. I reached for my knife and towered over the boy, ready to plunge it into his heart, but in a blink he was gone and behind me, holding a long metal pipe and smashed my head in. I stumbled forwards but quickly regained balance before he could repeat his action.
The agent was now in front of me and aimed the pipe to strike the side of my head. But I was faster.
I blocked the pipe with my lower arm and palm-striked the assassin in the nose simultaneously, preparing an elbow to his face only for him to disappear into the air leaving me to bathe in frustration once more.
Blue then caught my eye in the distance. I rapidly slammed my palms onto the earth beneath me, raising an arsenal of shadows and launching them towards the light, smirking with the thoight I had dealt serious damage and possibly killed him.
But a hand latched onto the back of my collar and I knew I had fallen for a trap. Suddenly, a gut-wrenching feeling flooded my senses and my head was being smashed into something hard. Calloused palms were wrapped around my neck as Five prepared to jump again after slamming my head into a wall as many times as he could.
"You won't escape them." Was all I said before the mans grip was torn off of me from the missiles of shadows following his silhouette and launched him into the distance.
I got up, flexed my jaw and sneered at the sight of the man still standing, covered head to toe in blood, bruises and cuts. I could tell he was tired. His shoulders were slumped and head tilted downwards. His Adams apple bounced as he swallowed thickly and took in several deep breaths.
Number Five finally looked up, and I had never been more excited in killing someone than I had now.
FWOOSH
I raised my arm and slashed it through the air, sending a rapid wave of darkness slicing towards him, allowing myself to succumb deeper into the web of voices echoing off of my skull, each of my strikes increasing in power and precision for every time he'd teleport out of the way and into a wave of new danger.
Tired of the constant game of cat and mouse, Five blinked above me, carrying yet again another large piece of rubble and released it. I sent another cut through the air for the shadows to follow, shattering the rubble into pieces.
A gasp left my lips as another gut-wrenching sensation overtook me while a pair of hands grabbed my ankles tightly. My eyes widened and jaw dropped in a mixture of shock and confusion as I felt myself being dangled upside down and mid-air from the roof of a building that was over ten stories high. I tore my eyes away from the daunting scene several hundred metres below me and snapped my head up to see the man dangling me by my ankles.
The first thing I noticed was the slyness coating his eyes as he knew he had the upper hand- literally.
"I'll ask you one more time," Five spoke calmly, trying to contain the anger desperately trying to rip through his throat. The grip on my ankles faltered slightly but tightened just as fast. "Any last words?"
"Yeah," I breathed out in a ragged breath as a plan slowly began to form in my mind. I pulled myself up as much as I could towards the man and seethed between bloodied gritted teeth, "Suck my d--"
The man released his hold before I could finish with a disgusted expression as if he had just killed a bug, sending me plummeting towards the ground.
I raised my hands beside my body as I approached closer to my demise and quickly raised an army of shadows. I twisted to face the assassin, mid-air, throwing my arms towards him with the shadows following suit.
I looked back down and landed on a cushion of molten energy raised from the patches of shadows hovering just above the ground. The shadows had plunged into Five's stomach and forced him off the roof, his body being tackled towards the ground only for a blinding flash of blue to consume him.
My eyes slimmed in annoyance and brows furrowed to the sight of the assassin stood before me with a large knife pressed against my neck.
"You look tired." I eyed him up and down, very clearly mocking him, while I admired all the damage I had inflicted as if it were a piece of art.
Five's black suit was dirty and torn in several places, more prominently at the front, revealing the blood and bruises on his stomach and muscles. His red tie was barely hanging by a thread and the white blouse underneath was all torn up and practically non-existent.
His nose was purple and blue from the palm-strike, with smudges of red streaked across his forehead and upper lip.
Five stepped dangerously close towards me and pressed the knife deeper into my neck, almost drawing blood. He was less than a few small steps away from me and by the looks of it, he seemed eager to close the gap and assert the power he desperately yearned to hold over me.
I looked up at him with a devious grin, daring him to do it.
"How about I slice those lips off of your face. Will you be grinning then?" The man snarled and glared daggers.
I raised a brow. "How about I carve out your larynx so I won't have to listen to that aggravating voice of yours?
My neck began to sting from the knife cutting deep into my flesh, drops of crimson now gracing my collar bone.
The assassin forced out a low chuckle and shook his head slowly while his hold on the knife stiffened. His forest green eyes followed the blood pooling down my neck and raised them to meet my stare.
"Who are you."
"I thought you knew who I was, number five. I'm a bloodhound, remember? Or has all that damage affected your memory--?"
I was caught off guard. Five grabbed my collar and slammed me against a brick wall, pressing the knife deeper into my wound. My nose scrunched in disgust to the smell of blood radiating off of him and the sudden boldness washing over the man.
"Listen hear you piece of shit." Five seethed. His veins bulged against his neck and his teeth were clenched and bare. "As you see, you have no fucking where to go. So you better answer my questions if you want to live the rest of your vulgar, pathetic life in peace. Got it?"
A tense silence fell between us. I felt the mans warm breath fan over my lips and his knuckles press against the end of my neck as he held my collar tightly. The distance between us was almost non-existent, causing discomfort to stir in my stomach.
I wanted to vomit.
But I did the next best thing.
I held eye contact with the assassin before I descended into laughter right in his face. I took a deep breath in and titled my head up towards him, watching his expression slowly unravel through hooded eyes.
"Even after beating you relentlessly, you still don't have the slightest idea of how dangerous I actually am. I seem to have overestimated your intelligence, Hargreeves." I neared my face up towards his, smiling cruelly at the anger he poorly contained.
I spoke before he could cut in. "Yes, I do know who you are, and you don't know who I am."
"And we're going to keep it that way."
Date: REDACTED, 1955 Location: TEMPS COMMISSION HQ Time: REDACTED
"Did you kill him?" The concern was evident in The Handlers voice, making me raise a brow. Nevertheless, I knew her concerns were directed at her future plans, not the welfare of some field agent. But then again, Five Hargreeves wasn't just some field agent.
My lack of response seemed to fuel her agitation, my eyes noticing the quick clench of her jaw and flex of her fingers as she awaited my reply. In retaliation to the assassination attempt, I decided to not ease her fears.
Not one bit.
A deep sigh caught her attention, followed by an amused scoff.
"You're seriously asking me, the bloodhound, if she spared some second rate assassin?" A twisted smile pulled at my lips and I sighed again dramatically. "After years of working together and you still don't know me at all."
"Stop playing these games and answer my question." The Handler, who usually handled things with a certain measure of grace and passive aggression, snapped clearly annoyed at my antics. She quickly realised her mistake however. The woman cleared her throat and took a long drag of her cigar, blowing the toxic fumes right at my face.
With a few steps towards the display of weapons sitting behind The Handlers figure, I decided to test the already fragile boundaries of the situation.
I traced my finger along the surface of the weapons. "I've always been jealous of your collection." My voice held a certain playfulness. One I knew the woman behind me despised. "Especially ever since I saw this glorious artifact hanging on your wall and collecting dust, never to be used again."
The sound of a blade being unsheathed echoed through the room. "The very Turkic-Mongol sabre used by Genghis Khan in battle."
The Handler flinched ever so slightly at the press of the cold blade against her exposed neck. A significant movement that most would miss.
She proceeded to look ahead, not faltering once as she said, "You know very well that even if you kill me, I'd just be replaced by another desperate senior waiting to have their shot at such a powerful position in such a powerful organisation." The woman turned to face me and a shiver ran down my spine. Even when confronted with death, her expression was void of emotion. And for a moment I saw someone I wished to have long forgotten. And The Handler knew that. "Take this cog out of a machine and it will soon be replaced by another. But they won't give you the same leniencies as I have with your dear Jasper. So I recommend you consider your decision very closely, darling."
She took the weapon from my hands as I stood there, mimicking a child frozen in a trance, realising they were in no control of their fate.
A hand crept on my shoulder and a pair of lips whispered against my ear, "Because this is the best you'll get."
She took her seat and released a relaxed sigh. "Now then, you were about to tell me what you've done with little Number Five?"
“His heart is beating.”
“Good.” She purred, coating an extra layer of lipstick on her lips. “Did you use—”
“Yes.”
I felt her tense for a split second before her shoulders relaxed once more.
This time her voice is serious. “Does he remember your… abilities?”
“No.”
“So he remembers the fight but not the powers. Interesting.”
A loud alarm screeched from outside the commission, followed by a woman's scream and the slam of a car trunk. That's when an echo of a recently familiar FWOOSH rang in the room, revealing the asshole I longed to kill.
"You." His voice came in a growl. The mans eyes were wild, like those of a predator stalking their prey. His hair was a mess with random strands stuck onto his skin from the sweat and blood in his face.
"Five Hargreeves," The Handler's voice pulled the assassin back into reality. "Meet your new partner."
I could hear the smirk and utter joy in her voice as she spoke my name, forming the deadliest partnership the Commission had to offer.
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Thank you all for your support and patience waiting for the next chapter. I know how annoying it is when fanfic writers are on some hiatus for ages but I'm finally back!
I don't have a strict writing schedule but I will notify you as accurately as I can for when the next chapter comes out.
Hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you find any errors let me know.
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tofuxtea · 2 years
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Teeny Announcement!!
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HEYY so i know it’s been forever since i’ve posted anything so i’ve come with a peace offering! to anyone who likes The Umbrella Academy or Aidan Gallagher I POSTED A SEASON 1 NUMBER FIVE FANFIC ON WATTPAD! with plenty of changes! This book is 13+ with NO smut, NO sexual content regarding Five or my OC so please give it a read and votes and feedback!! and share if you can! TYSM!!!
https://www.wattpad.com/story/275161877-mad-iqs-five-hargreeves 
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delicioushottubpeanut · 5 months
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♡ babysitter
oneshot - inspired by that one edit
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fandom: five nights at freddys (movie)
paring: mike schmidt x fem!reader
warnings: nsfw 18+, dry humping, sexual tension, kissing, friends to lovers, cumming in pants, submissive mike, foul language, teasing, smut, riding, dom reader, consensual sex, age gap, minors dni..
You've heard a lot about him from Abby, mainly bits and pieces that she's told you, but nothing really about him and the only thing he really says to you is that he's eventually going to pay you back. But you always refuse.
The old couch squeaks softly as he sits beside you, a gentle hand goes to reach your face but hesitates.
He’s been very busy for a while now that he has started his new job at a security guard that was shut down ages ago. When he comes home he's always so tired, like he's a different person. As if he cannot relax. You hear the door open and slam back as it he closes it.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't hear you come back.." You whisper, groaning whilst you move out of the position you had been in for a while. Yawning as you gently wipe your eyes.
Mike looks at you, half-smiling as he leans against the cushions. He's tired, you can tell. "Sorry if I woke you, you looked exhausted, so I just wanted to cover you," he whispers back, stretching his arms. "Did Abby go okay for you?" he asks.
"I told her it's bedtime an hour ago, but you know how it is with little ones." You joke.
"Abby was great, she missed you, though.." You smile sheepishly, shifting on the coach to face him. "How was work?" You ask, seeing the slight bags under his eyes.
Mike chuckles softly, leaning his head back and letting out a deep sigh as he stares up at the ceiling.
"It was long," he sighs. "I mean, I've gotten used to it, of course, but god, it's draining..." He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, looking off to the side and fiddling with his fingers, trying to find the right words to explain what just happened at work. He seems hesitant to say.
"You okay? You can talk to me if something is bothering you." Hesitantly placing your hand on his shoulder, slowly forcing him to look at you. You've known him for years due to babysitting Abby, but he's never opened up.
"Well... it's just..." Mike sighs again, still not meeting your eyes. "...Abby asked me some questions about stuff today."
He rubs the back of his neck, shifting in his seat as if he's about to say something and then thinks better of it. He leans back against the coach, letting out a frustrated grunt as his eyebrows pinch in frustration. "I... I just can't tell her."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" You whisper, staring at him, waiting for a response.
Mike's face softens a little, looking over at you before he sighs, shaking his head. "It's nothing. Abby asked about the job, and... well, it got me thinking..." He shrugs his shoulders again, still looking off to the side.
"Look, I'll tell Abby about it myself, I don't... I shouldn't put it on you..." He sighs one again, staring at the floor.
"If you need me, don't hesitate." You place your hand on his thigh, squeezing it for reassurance. Gaining confidence, you slowly move your body off the couch and sit on his lap.
"Oh..." Mike says quietly, his face turning bright red as you place your hand on his thigh. He looks down at you, his expression of uncertainty on his face changing as his eyebrows rise.
He's speechless, frozen in shock at your touch, and his entire face is practically bright pink. He's suddenly a lot warmer, his chest heaving as his heartbeat picks up speed. "... Y- you're..." he says with the last of his breath, his brain having trouble finding the right words to say.
"Is this okay..?" You grind against his lap, whispering against his ear.
"Shit..." He stammers, his brain desperately trying to process what you're doing. He looks confused, his eyes drifting down to you as his mind races.
"What... what are you... n- no, it's... we can't..." Mike stutters, trying to find a way to reject you. But the longer you're in his lap, the harder it is for him to say no.
"Just relax, Abby is fast asleep in her room.." You grind harder against him, using your index finger to tilt his chin up, making eye contact when you suddenly hear him whimper.
"T- this isn't the time..." he mumbles in response, his eyes closing at the sensation and his whimpers becoming more noticeable.
"W- we shouldn't be doing this..." he whispers, his arms hesitating in the air for a moment before they eventually wrap around your waist. He's still torn between going along with it or saying no, his heart racing as he gazes at you.
"Beg for me to continue." You stop moving your hips, feeling his arousal throb against your ass. Wanting to see how he would react.
"P- please... God.." he whispers, the breath catching in his throat and his voice turning raspy.
He looks at you, his eyes pleading, his body quivering under your control. His heart is pounding out of his chest. He swallows, looking up at you as his entire body screams for you to keep going while his mind fights back.
"You can do better than that.." You tease, breathing against his neck, gently creating bruises as you feel his slightly breath hitch.
Mike whimpers loudly when he feels your bites, his muscles tensing as he tries to relax.
"H- I- please, don't stop..." he murmurs hoarsely, sounding completely different than you've ever heard before. He whimpers again, his head tilted back as he tries to hide the pleasure in his face. He can't believe what he's doing, but he can't turn away.
"Good boy.." Slowly reaching to take off your top, revealing your covered breasts as you start to grind against him, pushing your panties to the side, creating a wet spot on his jeans.
Mike looks down at you, taking in the view as your top is removed, his face getting even pinker as his heart races.
He swallows nervously in response to your wetness, his eyes trailing down your body before they eventually turn back to your face. His cheeks are bright red, his breathing heavy as he glances back down at you, looking into your eyes as you look into his. He takes a long, drawn-out breath, his entire body quivering with anticipation.
"Just take what you want, Mike, no one is stopping you.." You tease, eagerly watching his reaction.
"I- it's..." Mike starts to say, but he can't say no to you, not right now. He leans back, pushing himself deeper into you like he can't help himself, the breath catching in his throat as he takes in the sensation. His eyes are closed as he tries to ignore his own morals.
His eyes snap open, his lips parted as he whispers, "More.."
"You close?" Whispering seductively, moving harder as you feel your climax coming fast.
"Oh, god..." Mike breathes out, his face red, and his eyes roll back into his head. He moans, bucking his hips up against you, feeling himself come close to release as he cums in his pants, feeling you come down from your high.
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redskull199987 · 5 months
Note
Plzz write fnaf Michael x femreader! It starts like a fluff and then smut👀
Lucky
Mike Schmidt x fem!reader Request Word Count:2.4k Warnings:Angst to Fluff to Smut, this got way angstier than i thought SOWWWY- but I promise, fluff ensues, Smut ensues, so MDNI/18+, Movie Spoilers Summary:After you finally return from work, a few surprises await you at home…
Masterlist
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Your day had been slow. Agonizingly slow. Time seemed to go by extra slow today and by the time you finally left your office, it had felt like you had spent a week there, instead of a day. But as you slowly made your way towards your car, your mood lightened, as you remembered what would await you at home.
Your loving Boyfriend and his even sweeter little sister. 
The little family you had built over the years always managed to put a smile on your face and especially after the whole drama at that Pizza Plex, you were even more grateful for what you had.
You slightly shook your head, trying to avoid thinking of those memories. The things you had seen, while Mike and You tried to save his sister from the dead children. You hoped that they got what they wanted…and that the Monster who created them had gotten what he deserved.
Your mind was about to wander back to the memory of the springlocks violently stabbing into his chest, as a knock on your car window quite literally pulled you out of your thoughts.
A quiet gasp left your lips, as you looked outside to see who had knocked. Much to your relief, it was only your coworker, who wanted to wish you a good night. You quickly uttered your goodbyes, before finally starting the car and making your way back home.
By the time you arrived, the sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon. You quickly parked your car next to Mike´s before moving towards the entrance. 
You didn't bother turning on the lights in the hallway, as you dropped your bag to the floor and kicked off your shoes.
Before you could call out for Mike and Abby, you heard someone running towards you and as you realized what was happening, you quickly duck away, stumbling backwards.
Just in time to avoid being hit by the bat that was swung into your direction.
“Mike!! It's me!! It's just me!!”, You quickly yelled and reached for the lightswitch.
As the hallway was suddenly illuminated by the dim gleam of the ceiling light, you could make out the figure of Mike in front of you. He was breathing heavily. With the bat still in his hand, he was towering over you. He just looked at you for one more second, before finally realizing what was happening. He quickly dropped the bat, a hand flying to his face, covering his mouth in disbelief of what he had just done.
“I´m sorry…”, he mumbled, dropping to his knees,”I'm so sorry. I thought…I thought it was..that it was o-one of t-them..”
Your heart broke at the sight in front of you. You quickly pulled Mike into your arms:”It's okay, Mike. I´m alright. They're gone now. They're gone.”
You gently kissed his temple, as you saw that he tried to suppress his tears. You knew that he was having a hard time dealing with the gruesome events. It had left scars on him. Both physically and mentally.
“I´m sorry..”, he muttered once more, pulling you closer to him. You only kissed his forehead again and mumbled sweet nothings into his ear until he had calmed down again.
You gently cupped your boyfriend´s face and gave him a soft smile. To your delight, he returned the smile and leaned forward to quickly peck your lips.
The sweet moment was interrupted as the voice of Abby grabbed your attention. The young girl came running into the hallway, calling out both of your names. Your smile got even bigger as she quickly came over to you, giving you a short hug, before starting to ramble about what she had drawn today and that she wanted to show you all her artworks. You happily nodded at everything that she said. 
“Alright Abbs.”, Mike suddenly said, interrupting his sister and affectionately patting her head,”You can show her tomorrow. It's time for bed now.”
The little girl pouted for a moment and turned back to you:”But I wanna stay up and play with you.”
You gave her a mischievous smile:”I tell you something. If you promise me to go to bed now, I will play and draw with you tomorrow the entire day. And I'll make your favorite Dinner, hm?”
Abby´s face lit up in anticipation. She quickly nodded and said good Night to you and Mike, before disappearing into her room.
Mike only looked at you with admiration,”How do you alway do that?”, he asked, as the two of you also made your way to your shared bedroom.
“It´s a secret”, You grinned and let yourself fall down on the bed. A satisfied groan left your lips, as you finally felt the stress from work dissolve into nothing but hot air.
You watched how Mike pulled his Hoodie over his head and throwing it to the side. Now only left in his T-Shirt, he flopped down beside you, propping his head up on his arm and looking down at you. He didn't say anything for a few seconds, just looking you up and down, before he slowly lifted his hand and gently grasped your cheek. You gasped quietly, as he suddenly leaned forward and connected your lips in a sweet and tender kiss. It only lasted for a few seconds before he pulled back again. You looked up at him and saw that his eyes were closed, as he leaned his forehead against yours.
Finally, Mike opened his mouth to say something, but after a few seconds of silence, he closed it again and he opened his eyes. You looked at his dark orbs and almost lost yourself in all the emotions, he was trying to convey only with his gaze.
“It's okay.”, you affirmed, “I know. You don't have to say anything, Mike.”
The boy only smiled at you and it was a genuine smile. One, that you rarely got to see.
Without another word, Mike suddenly sat up, pulling you with him and into his lap. You gasped loudly at the sudden change of position, which gave Mike the chance to put his mouth back onto yours.
This kiss was different. It was passionate, hungry even. He groaned lowly as he pulled your body tighter against his. Your hands pressing up against his chest, while he explored your Body with his.
“Mike..”, you warned him, as he started to kiss your jaw, your skin burning like fire everytime his lips touched you.
“Your sister…”, You mumbled again, but you and him both knew that it was already too late, that you were already at his mercy, the gaze of yours just as hungry as his.
“We'll be quiet.”, he finally answered, as he pushed you off his lap and onto the mattress. You watched how he now also pulled his Shirt over his head, before leaning down to kiss you again. You moaned against his lips, as you felt his cold hands wander under your sweater. He squeezed your hips tenderly, while making it his mission to let you drown in his kisses. As he finally parted to help you out of your clothes, you immediately missed the feeling of his lips pressing against yours.
Quickly you pulled your sweater over your head, discarding it on the floor. Mike only admired you for a few seconds, his gaze wandering all over your Body and you felt heat rising to your cheeks.
“Don't look at me like that.”, you mumbled and gently put your hand over his eyes.
Mike only chuckled at your antics,”Like what?”, he asked, acting all innocent and letting your hand remain on top of his eyes.
After a few seconds of Silence, you slowly pulled your hand back and his eyes went back to look at you.
“Like that.”, You croaked, looking away from him.
“But why?”, Mike teased, pulling you closer to his body by your hips,”I love what I am seeing.”
Upon hearing his words, you looked back up at him. his eyes held no ounce of doubt. He was a hundred percent sure.
“I love you too, Mike”, You smiled and quickly pecked his lips. Mike only returned the smile,”May I?”, he asked, mentioning towards your bra.
You quickly nodded and mere seconds later, your bra joined the heap of clothing that was already on the floor.
Mike´s lips quickly latched onto your breast, as his hand gave the same attention to the other. With a moan, your head lolled back in pleasure.
“You like that, hm?”, Mike mumbled, as he pushed you back down on the bed. You weren't able to form a coherent sentence anymore, so you just nodded.
“Please, let me have you.”, he urged, his hands wandering to the hem of your pants,”Let me make you feel good.”
“Mike please..”, You finally pressed out,”I need you..Need you inside of me.”
That was all the confirmation he needed, before finally pulling your pants down, alongside your panties.
He slowly pushed your thighs apart and started to kiss up the inside of your calves, but never quite touching you where you desperately needed him.
“Mike please.”, You whined again, while trying to keep your voice down. But your eyes widened in surprise and you tried to suppress the loud moan that made it´s way up your throat, as Mike suddenly pushed two fingers inside you without a warning. His tongue joined mere seconds after, as he ate you out like a man starved.
Your hand wandered to Mike´s hair and you gently pulled and pushed at his head as he was working you closer to your release. You could already feel that coil form inside you and after only a few more seconds, it snapped and with a suppressed moan, you came against his mouth.
As your heavy breathing started to slow down again, Mike finally looked back up at you, the desire in his eyes bigger than ever. He quickly latched his lips on yours again and you could taste yourself on him as he kissed you hungrily.
Your hands now wandered towards his sweats and as you grabbed his already hard member through his pants. He groaned lowly, closing his eyes in pleasure.
Quickly, you pulled down his pants, leaving him now also bare in front of you. Without a second thought, you grabbed his length and gave him a few experimental pumps. That seemed to do the trick on him and you watched how Mike´s brows furrowed, as he melted against your touch.
“Wanna be inside you..”,he mumbled against the skin of your shoulder. With anticipation, you lined him up with your entrance and looked back up at him. Mike was looking at you questioningly. And as soon as you gave him a small nod, he finally pushed inside of you.
You grabbed onto his biceps, as the pain slowly dissolved into pleasure. Mike slowly started moving in and out of you, grabbing your hips tightly. You suppressed a moan by sinking your teeth into his shoulder. Not to pierce the skin, but hard enough to leave a mark.
You could hear Mike mumbling incoherent words into your ear, as he picked up his pace, desperately trying to push you over the edge again.
“Mike..”, You moaned, feeling yourself coming closer and closer to the sweet sweet relief and as you looked back into his eyes and saw the adoration that he had for you, you were done for it. You clenched around him and came all over his cock. Mike followed soon after, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm.His thrusts got slower and sloppier and he finally pulled out of you, his breath still heavy against your skin. He quickly kissed your temple, before getting up. After a minute, he returned with a damp cloth and a water bottle. With a smile still on his face, he gently cleaned you both up, before slipping back into bed with you.
You chuckled, as he nuzzled his head into your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled his body closer to yours. His warmth engulfing you fully.
“Good Night, Mike.”, you smiled and gently kissed his cheek.
“Night.”, he replied with a yawn.
It didn't go unnoticed by you, that he didn't use his pills to fall asleep today. Or the recording of nature sounds. He didn't even look up at the Poster of Nebraska, that was now hanging over his bed again.
Looking at your beloved one last time, you smiled once more before finally closing your eyes and letting sweet sleep engulf you.
Bonus:
“Mike!?”
“Miiiike!?”
“Miiiiiike!?!?”
Your eyes snapped open and within a second, you were sitting up on the bed. Your gaze wandered to the door, where loud knocks and shouts were being heard. After a few seconds of trying to understand in which century you had woken up in, you realized where you were and the events of last night returned to you.
“Mike?”, You mumbled quietly and tapped your boyfriend's shoulder, who was laying next to you,”Mike??”
With a groan, he finally looked up at you and before you had the chance to say something, he tumbled off the bed due to leaving too much over the edge.
You couldn't suppress the chuckle that left your lips as you leaned down to check on Mike.
“Morning.”, You smiled, as you realized that he was fine. You quickly leaned down to peck his lips, which immediately seemed to wake him up more.
“Miiiiike!?!”
Your sweet moment was interrupted, as you heard Abby banging against the door again.
Mike let out an annoyed groan before getting up and putting his pants back on.
“In a minute, Abbs!”, he yelled back and the banging on the door finally stopped.
“We have a lot to do today.”, you said as you finally got up too and started to get dressed.
Mike only looked at you in confusion:”What do you mean?”
“Remember how I made Abby go to sleep yesterday?”, you chuckled and softly kissed his cheek before walking to the door. Pushing the handle down, you were immediately greeted by the sight of Abby who grabbed your hand and pulled you towards her room to show you her drawings.
Mike could only look after you with a tender smile on his face. How had he gotten so lucky?
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dixieconley · 3 months
Text
How the Clone Wars should have gone, given that Anakin was canonically a slave. (wtf Lucas?)
Rex: Yeah, we all have inhibitor chips. They make us less aggressive-- Anakin: You have slave chips. Rex: No, inhibitor chips. Anakin: Slave chips. They all need to be removed. Kix! Do you have a scanner? Kix: Er, no. You need a level 5-- Anakin: Nevermind. I'll build one. They need to come out immediately.
::slave chip comes out of one trooper who volunteered, because ARCs be crazy:: (Fives. It was Fives. Because Fives.)
Anakin: Huh. Why doesn't this have any explosive? Rex: I *told* you. They're inhibitor chips. Anakin: Nuh uh. Slave chips. They gotta do something else.
::a little later, some slicing, orders discovered::
Anakin: Slave chips! All of them out! Rex: Okay, but this is just one itty bitty bit of the GAR. There's 3 million of us. Anakin: *Lots* more scanners. Rex: ::facepalm::
::Scanners sent to every ship in the fleet and the Guard::
Fives: So who activates the chips? Anakin: Depur. Fives: ::thinking that this is a reasonable name rather than a generic term for a slave master:: Where do we find them? And can we kill them?
Cue Kamino being invaded, the Kaminoans interrogated (and Nala Se summarily executed), and relevant information discovered.
Rex: So it's the Chancellor. Anakin: No, he's my good friend. Rex: … Anakin: I'm depukrata. (The slave word for a freed slave who enslaves others.) Fives: ::no concept of natborn names:: Everyone! The general's Depukrata now! Everyone: Hello, Depukrata! Anakin: ::anakin.exe has stopped working:: Anakin: ::incoherent frothing rage:: Let's fuck some shit up! The 501st: ::cheers, gets out the heavy ordinance::
Palpatine gets wrekt. (Fuck that guy.)
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muffinlance · 1 month
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I'm barely to the massacre and I can already tell I'm going to be screaming at every this-makes-no-sense decision made by the writers (your temple is under violent attack, and you evacuate the kids... to a barely enclosed corner in a prominent temple room? Instead of to the hundreds of sky bison that were highlighted as flying in earlier? Why?) (And Aang left to clear his head and think instead of to run from his duties? That's such a less compelling plot arc?) (And the show had him briefly monologue about being a goofy kid who loves pies and his friends instead of using the extended temple scene to show any of that? Didn't want to pay more child actors, did you, Netflix?)
Yeah I'm just. Going to be screaming at the screen instead of enjoying this. Different decisions aren't necessarily bad, but when those decisions seem to be in the direction of "show a man burning alive before we even get to the on-screen massacre" this is just... not the show for me.
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rainy-nomad · 2 months
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No piece of literature had ever made my cry (I dont read all that often) but even so! I See You Sundrop by @shirajellyfish was the first! I cant begin to express how much I enjoyed the story but I drew a little snip from chapter 80 because this whole scene had me smiling like a goof.
Thank you for writing that fic! <3
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happy74827 · 5 months
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hey pookieeee, how about mike and reader are like new to dating and mike just got his job at freddy’s fazbears pizzeria as night guard. and he has trouble paying the bills and stuff and taking care for abby. and reader is like lemme help you. and mikes like no i got it. just rlly angsty to fluff? if you get what i mean? thanks xo
Resolute Hearts
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[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: All you wanted to do was to save him from drowning.
WC: 2883
Category: Angst to Fluff, Happy Ending
I absolutely adored this request. I hope you were serious about the angst, because it is there and it is heavy 🫠
『••✎••』
Tears…that's all you could feel. You felt them running down your cheeks, and you could feel your lips trembling as you sat on the tile floor, hugging your knees to your chest. The surrounding air was thick, a suffocating feeling. It was hard to breathe. Your head felt light, and your vision was a blur. You took in deep, shaky breaths, trying to hold back the sobs you desperately wanted to let out.
You never thought you would feel this way. It was like everything you had worked for your entire life had fallen through. It was like nothing meant anything to you anymore. Your life, your family, your friends. They didn't mean anything to you. You didn't care about them. You were alone, and the only person you cared about didn't seem to care about you back.
The apartment was dark and quiet. You sat in the bathroom, the door locked, the lights off, the fan running to block the sound of your tears. Your roommate had left hours before, saying she had an early morning class. You didn't know why they even had classes so early in the morning.
It felt like decades had gone by since you sat there on the bathroom floor. The bathroom tiles were cold and uncomfortable. You were cold and uncomfortable. You didn't feel like yourself. You weren't the type to get so worked up about anything. You weren't the type to sit on a bathroom floor and cry over things you couldn't fix. You were the type to keep your head held high. To smile through everything, even if the situation was tough. To be the rock for your friends to lean on.
But, you felt alone. You felt so alone.
Michael, Mike. Michael was the one who made you feel alone. You loved him. God, you loved him more than anything. You loved him so much. You loved how caring he was. How sweet he could be. How considerate he was. You loved every inch of him and every inch of what he did for you. He was so considerate of your feelings; he never pushed you to do things you weren't ready for. So, why did his words hurt you so much? Why did his actions make you feel so small and worthless?
Why?
It had only been a few months since you started dating, and everything seemed to be perfect. He was charming, sweet, and an all-around amazing guy. You were so happy with him. He was everything you wanted in a boyfriend, and you were over the moon with how everything was going. He even seemed to care for you; at least, that's what you thought.
He had been distant for the past few weeks. You found yourself seeing Abby more often than you did Mike. You would wake up, and he wouldn't be there, only to find him passed out on the couch or working on a late project in the kitchen.
He said he was fine, but you knew he wasn't. You could tell he wasn't okay. You knew something was bothering him, but he never opened up to you about what it was. You thought about telling him it was okay. That he could talk to you about anything, he didn't need to keep it bottled up. He didn't need to worry you like that.
You did eventually open your mouth to say something about how he was feeling, but before you could even get the words out, he shut you down. He said he was fine that you were overreacting. That you needed to worry about yourself more and stop thinking about his feelings all the time. You just needed to trust him.
You believed him. You foolishly believed him until it all came crashing down. During one of your many late nights babysitting Abby for him, you accidentally stumbled upon papers that he left on the coffee table. One of which was a delinquency notice dated back to last week. He was behind on rent and had a couple of other bills that were due soon. You didn't want to add to his stress, so you figured it wouldn't hurt to try and help him with those.
Apparently, it did hurt. It hurt enough to make him snap at you when you decided to approach him the night before about it. Abby was tucked into bed in her room for the night, so you decided it would be a good opportunity to talk to him just as he was about to leave. How stupid you were. How naive. You didn't know what he was going to say, but you had no idea he was going to get so angry. So angry, in fact, that it ended up waking Abby up.
You felt your stomach churn at the memory of his voice getting louder, your name getting harsher, the tone of his words getting angrier.
"I said I can take care of myself, just like I've always done." He was livid, his face red with anger. He was trying to keep his cool, but it seemed that it was just too much for him. "Why do you have to get involved? Just butt out, alright?"
"I just want to help, Mike. You shouldn't have to pay for everything on your own. I just want to be there for you, like you are for me," you said, reaching out for his hands, but he pulled away from you.
"I don't need you to take care of me. I can handle this on my own. I've been doing this on my own for a long time," he told you, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't want to be touched, you could tell.
"You're right," you admitted. "You're an adult; you've been taking care of yourself for a long time, and I shouldn't try to change that. But I'm here, okay? I'm here for you and for Abby. And I'm not trying to take care of you; I'm just trying to help you. Just let me help you."
"What the hell do you think this is?!" Mike practically screamed at you. "You think this is easy?! You think I don't want to get out of debt, huh? Do you think I like being in debt? I don't! But it's my fault, and it's my job to take care of it!"
"Mike, calm down! Abby is sleeping in the next—" You tried to reason with him, but he didn't want to hear any of it. He was too mad. He was too angry. He turned and grabbed his car keys, turning back to look at you, the hurt and anger evident in his eyes.
"Abby isn't your concern; she's my responsibility. She's my sister, not yours. You're just—" Mike stopped himself, not wanting to say the next thing that came to his head. But you were right there, in front of him, looking up at him with eyes full of hurt. You were so close, so close he could see the tears glistening in your eyes.
“I'm just… what, Mike?" You asked him, your voice hitching. The tears that you had been holding back began to fall. You were at a breaking point; you didn't know how to feel anymore. You didn't know what you were feeling. All you knew was that your boyfriend just screamed at you and hurt you with his words.
You felt a hand on your shoulder and looked over your shoulder to see Abby standing there. She looked up at her brother with wide eyes and a confused expression. She looked from Mike to you, then to her hand that was on your shoulder. You felt numb. You couldn't believe what was happening.
"Abby…" Mike took a deep breath. "Abby, go back to bed, okay? I'll be back soon." He gave her a soft smile. The one he always gave you when you needed it. She looked up at him, giving him the same sad look she was giving you. She rubbed her eyes and walked back into her room, closing the door behind her. Mike turned his attention back to you, but he didn't say anything. He looked like he had more to say, but the words just didn't come out.
And that was the last time you saw him.
You spent the next couple of hours curled up on the floor, crying until you couldn't cry anymore. You tried to sleep in the own comfort of your bed, but every time you closed your eyes, you would see his face. His angry face. The face he made at you the last time you spoke. The face he made when he screamed at you. You hated it. You hated everything about it.
It was around six in the morning when you decided to finally leave your room. It was cold outside, but you didn't care. You needed some fresh air. You needed to get out of there for a little bit. You needed to get away from the suffocating apartment, the suffocating situation. You needed to get away from everything that reminded you of Mike. You walked down the hall to the patio, and you were almost to it when you heard the faint knock on the door.
You stood at the entrance to the living room, listening to the faint knocks. It was the first time in hours that you heard a sound other than your own voice. Your eyes were glued to the door, your hands in fists as you listened. And listened. And listened. It felt like an eternity before you finally decided to get the courage to walk up and answer it, reaching for the knob and pulling it open.
There, standing on the other side of the door, was your boyfriend. Michael was standing there, staring back at you. His face wasn't angry. He wasn't mad anymore. He didn't look sad either. He didn't look like anything at all. He looked blank, empty. Like he didn't have any emotions, his eyes were void of the emotions that you loved so much.
He wore his security vest, the little medallion dangling in front of his chest. He had his name tag attached to it, and you realized he came straight from work. He had bags under his eyes, and his hair was a mess, sticking out at the side. His posture was slouched, his shoulders hanging low. He looked exhausted. But he was there, and he was standing right in front of you like he was the one who had been waiting for so long. Like he was the one who was worried.
"Hi," he spoke quietly. He almost whispered. It was soft, and it was quiet. His voice was scratchy and dry. He was trying to smile, but he was trying so hard to force one that it hurt you to see it. You felt a sharp pain in your chest at the sight of him. "Can we… Can we talk?"
"What are you doing here, Michael? You need to be home for Abby." You felt the lump in your throat rise up as you spoke. You could feel the tears coming back to your eyes, and you knew he saw them. He was always good at seeing through you.
"I couldn't go home knowing we're not okay." He looked at you with the saddest look you had ever seen. The look made you want to cry again. You didn't want to cry anymore.
"I… I can't right now," you said, moving to close the door in front of you. "I need some time to think." You started to shut the door, but his hand was quick to stop you from closing it. He put his foot in between the door and the frame and held the door open.
"Please," he begged, practically whining. He was so desperate. You knew he was desperate. You could see it in his eyes, the way his eyebrows were furrowed, and how he was clenching his jaw. "I know I shouldn't have said what I did last night. I was just… I was just angry. I didn't mean what I said, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I don't want to lose you because of my shit."
"Mike…" you started, but he cut you off.
"I'm just not used to having someone around all the time… Having someone help me. I know I get angry easily; Fuck, I know I'm stubborn. I know that I get mad at myself a lot because I'm not perfect, but I'm trying. I really am. For the longest time, it's just been Abby and I and no one else. I never really had someone who was willing to take care of me… and I've always been fine. I'm fine." Mike shook his head. "But I don't want to be just fine anymore. I want to be happy, and I want to be happy with you."
You felt a fresh set of tears fall from your eyes. You couldn't help it. The words were too much for you to handle. The sincerity in his voice, the way he was looking at you with his big hazel eyes, and how his voice cracked as he spoke. He looked like he had more to say, but he didn't. He just looked at you. He looked like he was searching for something. And you realized it was your forgiveness. He was waiting for your forgiveness. He was waiting for you to give him another chance.
You thought about all the times he opened up to you. All the times he let you in, and you helped him out when he needed it. You thought about how he was there when you needed him to be. You thought about how he would smile at you when you needed him to, how he would make you smile even on your worst days.
"I think you owe a dollar for the swear jar, maybe more," you spoke softly, looking up at him with your red, puffy eyes. He gave you a confused look, but he soon realized what you were talking about. He chuckled as he wiped the tears from your eyes.
"Yeah, I guess I do. Sorry, Abby," he apologized, acting like he was talking to his little sister. She wasn't here right now, but you knew he still felt like he needed to apologize to her for his actions, too. He always felt the need to apologize. He felt the need to try and be a better brother. To try and be a better son. He looked at you with those big eyes of his. The same eyes you fell in love with.
"Hug?" you asked, a small smile gracing your face. You didn't know why you asked, but you did. You felt the lump in your throat slowly ease up, and you finally felt the air in your lungs start to flow. He smiled back at you, opening his arms, and you stepped into them, burying your face in his shoulder.
He pulled away and kissed your forehead, resting his on top of yours. He rubbed your back as you wrapped your arms around him. He felt safe and warm. He felt like everything that was missing.
"I still don't want you covering the debt," he told you. "But… I'll take the help. I can take the help. I'll take it as long as it's you." You could hear him smiling, and you squeezed him tighter.
"Of course. Of course."
Everything was falling back into place. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't fixed. There was still so much to work out, but it was starting to feel a little better. You felt a little better. You felt a little more whole again. The ache in your heart wasn't so bad. It was bearable, and you could finally breathe again.
"You can let go of me now." Mike's voice was muffled against the top of your head, and you realized you were squeezing him too tight.
Still, you didn't let go. "No, you're warm," you said, smiling into his chest.
He let out a small sigh, shaking his head. "Is this my punishment? Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life?"
"It could be worse. I could still be mad at you," you replied, kissing the side of his neck.
"Well, in that case," he suddenly grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you up over his shoulder. He laughed as you yelped out in surprise, flailing your limbs. You felt the world turn upside down, and you screamed as he turned and walked back inside, closing the door behind him. "Let me show you how sorry I am."
He might've ended up causing Abby to be late to school that morning, but it was okay. It was okay because you were laughing. You were smiling, and most of all, you were happy.
You were happy because even though it wasn't perfect, he was trying. He was trying to make things better for himself and for you. And for the first time in a long time, it felt like you were finally home.
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bomber-grl · 5 months
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Mike Schmidt relationship headcannons !
Pairing(s): Mike Schmidt x Gn!Reader
Note! Has some plot | This is my relationship headcannons for movie Mike, stating this because I just might make video game Michael Afton headcannons aswell in the near future
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Very closed off and not looking for a relationship
He had hired you to take care of Abby when he was away and that’s how you two began getting closer.
Not the best conversation starter, however when you gave him the opportunity to speak about the dream theory he starts going on about it.
Then he apologizes and begins feeling a bit unsure and awkward.
It never really advanced from there and he’d almost constantly apologize and reassure that he’d pay you soon, but you never really cared for it.
Really peaked his interest when he realized that Abby had really grown to like you and began inviting you to do things with the both of them.
You, of course accepted and eventually Mike had started developing feelings for you.
Just as you did for him.
He didnt act on them at first.
Primarily Because he doesn’t see himself in a relationship, especially not with someone like you with him.
You were amazing, and he was a sad grown man who had to care for his little sister, and not even in a way he saw proper.
So of course he shuts it down, telling himself it’d be better off that way.
However, some way, somehow you got involved with Freddy’s pizzeria and you not only managed to save him but also Abby.
Then from there it just went uphill.
He got a better job, better pay, and is able to connect with Abby easier.
Not only that but the custody battle has been leaning in his favor.
He had no one to thank but you.
You’d take Abby to school, occasionally cook for them, and you were always reliable.
One fateful evening you and Mike were just hanging out in the living room.
Talking and just watching whatever was on TV.
Then he brought up your relationship, and stated that he’d really like to start one with you, a romantic one, that is.
You of course, said yes, and he was relieved and happy at your reaction.
But then Abby came to mind, what would she think?
You asked him this almost immediately.
But he reassured and said that the final push was actually when Abby hinted/teased her older brother about your potential relationship, then ran off.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and an awkward atmosphere hung in the air but then Mike went to hold you hand and it made it semi better.
The next morning you almost immediately told Abby and she was so happy.
Which really relieved the both of you.
-
Things had changed, albeit subtly.
And although Mike wasn’t the most physically affectionate, probably due to him being pretty much touched starved and traumatized.
He tried his best to convey his affection towards you with teasing and joking around.
You’d often just enjoy the others company and bond mostly with Abby around.
If you were to ever do something even a little bit flirty around her she’d immediately be grossed out.
Which was funny, and was mentally noted to ever do again in her presence, even if it was just a kid friendly comment.
Your guy’s first kiss was pretty intimate
I mean Mike had never seemed much interested in kissing or doing anything further down the road.
However, after a particularly draining day, and horrible weather outside, Mike had offered you to stay for the night.
Abby was so excited and the three of you played with her just a little bit over her curfew then sent her off to bed.
When you were finally able to be alone, Mike, very awkwardly and a bit bashful, offered for you to sleep in his bed.
You, like the amazing person you were, rejected and said that it was fine and that he should just sleep there.
Not completely understanding that Mike didn’t mean separate, but together.
Once he bashfully explains that all you can do is mutter out an “oh” and go along with it.
Pretty awkward as you both just lay down as stiff as rods in silence.
Then you guys begin talking.
And it’s just you two talking about whatever at like 2 a.m, trying your best to keep it down.
If you decide to be bold and make a move by asking if you could cuddle with him, then he’d hesitantly agree.
Again, not because he hates you, but because he’s an awkward guy.
So once you’re settled in each others arms you start talking about each others traumas and mostly hidden things.
It’s the sleep deprivation getting to you guys.
Well once you’re both finished venting and just being vulnerable you decide to make a move and lean forward, giving him plenty of time to move if it’s not wanted.
But he didn’t, and the clash of your lips followed soon after and how drawed out it was won’t be mentioned by either of you either.
Things not only start changing and he’s side hugging you more (publicly)
Although not really into pda
And be more affectionate (as he can)
I’m sure at one point you get so comfortable with one another that although awkward moments occur, most of them spent together is just you saying cringe stuff and making him regret ever making it out alive of Freddy’s.
From then on, not only do you tease and get a worthwhile reaction but he’s always hugging and giving you cheek kisses in private.
He’s also grown fond of cuddling, just because of how close he gets to be to you.
If you were to ever tell him he’s hot.
He’d get really taken back but then laughs it off and says whatever.
(Saying this because I know those fans of him exist 😭)
Honestly it’s kind of hard for you to tell when he’s being sarcastic or not😔
He’s always making snarky and joking remarks and hard to tell when he’s just being his sassy self.
Honestly home dude is just trying his best and his relationship with you really lightened up his life even more.
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Note! Should I make a pt 2 with Mike as your husband?
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joshs-big-toe · 4 months
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hes so- yknow?
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mylittleredgirl · 2 years
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i love how there's the genre of fix-it fic where the author goes into great granular detail of how our heroes manage to avoid or undo whatever character death or other unpopular choice occurred, in a way that abides by the laws of the fictional universe and definitely required a substantial plot outline, and then there are fix-it fics where the author just went "that's bullshit and didn't happen," and we as readers all go "agreed. carry on."
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accidental eavesdropping (steddie ficlet)
based on this post by @imjust-that-shy. i hope i did this vision justice <3
The doors to the bathroom burst open, and - on some pure, inexplicable instinct and with nearly inhuman speed - Eddie darts back into the stall he'd just been about to come out of and leaps to perch on top of the toilet seat, crouched there like some sort of creature. 
He hears the sound of retching and the stench of vomit fills the air. He holds his breath, wrinkling his nose and trying to imagine what possible context could be behind Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley bursting in here together to puke their guts out. Eddie knows the two of them work together, he’s seen them sharing shifts at Scoops Ahoy when he's walked by. (Not that he often intentionally passes by the ice cream parlor and slows down just to catch a glimpse of Steve or anything… Although who could really blame him if he did? Like, come on, Steve in that uniform? Hello, sailor.) His mind is busy spinning stories of possible explanations, ranging from spoiled ice cream to sneaking alcohol and getting too drunk during their break. 
Eddie's leaning towards the 'drinking on the job' explanation, especially when the retching finally ceases and Robin says something about the room no longer spinning. Those little rebels, Eddie thinks approvingly.
“When’s the last time you, uh…peed your pants,” Steve is asking Robin now, in response to her telling him in a Russian accent to interrogate her. 
Eddie curls over his knees, tilting his head to try to peer through the gap between the stalls and the floor to put an image to his eavesdropping. Might as well, he’s kind of stuck here and there’s really not much else he can do right now. He can see Steve’s legs, one bent and the other stretched out in front of him, and Robin in the stall past him laying on the floor with her legs up against the stall wall as she answers, “Today…” 
“What?” Steve questions.
“When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw!” Robin says. 
Okay…what? Russian doctors and bone saws? Eddie’s now thoroughly intrigued, if a little (okay, a lot) confused. Maybe they’re talking about a movie they watched or something.
Steve’s legs shake with his laughter. “Oh my god.” 
“It was just a little bit, though.” Robin pinches her fingers together as she twists her body in Steve’s direction while he laughs again and mutters that whatever it is they took is still in her system. She pushes her feet off the stall and slides to sit against the opposite wall. Eddie can only see her legs now. “Okay, my turn. Have you…ever been in love?” 
Steve answers that he has, with Nancy, and makes a sound mimicking an explosion. Eddie remembers that, remembers seeing Steve and Nancy being all touchy and cute in the hallways at school while he was trying his damndest to convince himself that he absolutely definitely did not wish he was in Nancy’s place. It didn’t work very well. And it’s not working very well now either as Steve starts to go on about some new girl he likes now instead - some girl who’s funny and smart and can crack secret Russian codes (okay, seriously, what is it with these two and Russians?) and oh shit, he’s talking about Robin. 
Eddie very suddenly feels like he should not be here listening to this, eavesdropping on Steve confessing his feelings for someone. Not only is that, like, a private and personal thing, but also what if Robin likes him back and they start kissing or something right here in this bathroom where Eddie has to sit here and listen to it and that would just be horrible for him for so many reasons and- Eddie’s getting ahead of himself. Robin hasn’t even said anything yet, and her knees are pulled up to her chest and her voice shakes when she confirms she’s still alive after Steve asks if she’s OD’d there in the silence and she uncurls with a deep sigh. All signs that she doesn’t actually like Steve back. 
Eddie watches as Steve shifts and slides under the stall into Robin’s, and catches sight of the nasty bruise marring nearly half of Steve’s otherwise beautiful face as he does so. Now concern has been added to the list of emotions this eavesdropping experience has rollercoastered him through so far. The bruise looks fairly fresh and Eddie can’t help but wonder what the hell gave Steve a black eye like that and if he’s okay. 
After a brief spiral of concern for Steve’s face, Eddie tunes back into reality to find himself staring at Steve’s ass as Steve now sits with his back against the stall wall opposite Robin. Eddie blinks, expands his tunnel vision to include Steve’s lower back and Robin’s legs which are also visible beneath the gap in the stalls. 
“It’s not because I had a crush on you,” Robin is saying. “It’s because…she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”
“Mrs. Click?” Steve sounds confused.
“Tammy Thompson,” Robin clarifies. “I wanted her to look at me.”
Oh. Eddie should really not be listening to this. Robin is trying to come out to Steve, trying to share something deeply personal and vulnerable with him and only him, not knowing that she’s outing herself to an eavesdropping near-stranger as well. Eddie feels violating and intruding. He can’t imagine how he would feel if he found out someone he barely knew had been secretly listening in on him coming out - probably not great, probably terrified. This is something he shouldn’t know, not like this. 
“But Tammy Thompson’s a girl,” Steve says, his tone unreadable, and Eddie’s heart nearly stops, sure his own anticipatory anxiety is likely only just a fraction of what Robin must be feeling right now. 
“Steve…” 
“Yeah?” A pause. “Oh,” Steve’s voice goes soft. “Oh… Holy shit.” 
“Yeah,” Robin sighs. Eddie can see her hands nervously rubbing at her shins. “Holy shit.” 
Steve is silent for a few painfully long moments. Eddie’s hands curl nervously around his own shins. Is Steve going to be homophobic? Should Eddie be worried for Robin now? 
“Steve, did you OD over there?” Robin asks, trying to be light but Eddie can hear the anxiety in her voice. 
“No, I just, uh- just thinking,” Steve responds. 
“Okay…” Robin’s voice is barely audible. Eddie is holding his breath.
“I mean, yeah,” Steve says finally, “Tammy Thompson’s cute and all, but the only reason I never gave her the time of day was because I was too busy staring at Eddie Munson.” 
The aforementioned Eddie Munson releases the breath he’d been holding with an involuntary squeak and claps a hand over his mouth. Thankfully, neither of them heard him over the sound of Robin shouting. “What?! Eddie Munson?! You liked Eddie Munson?” she squawks, voicing Eddie’s own stunned thoughts perfectly.
“Yeah,” Steve confirms casually, completely unaware that he's throwing an eavesdropping Eddie into an absolute crisis right now. There's a soft thudding sound like Steve's hitting the back of his head against the stall wall. His voice gets kind of wistful, almost dreamy, as he says, “His rings, man. Rings and tattoos…and that long hair and those chains he'd wear… Honestly just his whole punk aesthetic thing had me mesmerized.” 
“Pretty sure he's metal, not punk,” Robin corrects him. 
Thanks, Robin. Also, what the fuck is happening right now? 
“Whatever. Still hot as hell,” Steve says. 
Eddie squeaks again and practically shoves his whole fist in his mouth to keep himself from making any more noise, his teeth knocking against his rings. The rings Steve likes, apparently. He feels like he's going to pass out, his heart beating so erratically it's making him lightheaded. King Steve - the popular, preppy, stupid, gorgeous, dumb jock Eddie's been crushing on since forever - just called him hot????  
“Did you hear that?” Robin asks suddenly, voice low and cautious. 
Shit. 
“Is anyone else in here?” Steve calls out. 
Fuck. 
Eddie bites down hard on his knuckles and holds his breath, going impossibly still. If they get up and search the bathroom, then he’s about to be caught red handed, crouched on top of a toilet seat with his fist in his mouth and his face flushed scarlet, eavesdropping on their private conversation about secret Russians and gay crushes. Eddie contemplates falling into the toilet and attempting to flush himself down it. Every god imaginable is receiving a silent prayer from him right now as he watches apprehensively through the gaps in the stall. One of those gods must've heard and taken pity on this poor gay disaster of a man crouched like a goblin in a bathroom stall, because after a few horrible seconds of silence, all Steve does is lean down to peer beneath the stalls for a moment before sitting back up and saying, “Looks empty. I think the drugs are making us hear things.” 
“Yeah, probably,” Robin says. Then she giggles, knocking her leg against Steve’s. “I still can’t believe you were into Eddie.” 
Steve flicks Robin’s knee. “I can’t believe you were into Tammy.”
“What’s wrong with Tammy?!” Robin protests.
“What’s wrong with Eddie?” Steve counters. “At least he’s actually got talent. Tammy’s a total dud - she wants to be a singer and shit but she can’t even hold a tune.” 
Eddie is going to die. He is actually going to die right here, right now, because Steve Harrington thinks he’s hot and talented. And then Steve starts mimicking Tammy, singing Total Eclipse of the Heart in a ridiculously goofy voice, and now Eddie is going to die because he finds that so stupidly endearing and adorable. Maybe he should just flush himself down the toilet, save himself from this hopelessly pathetic crush of his. Instead, he’s saved by the bathroom doors bursting open again and a new voice shouting at them, “Okay. What the hell?!” 
Steve and Robin collapse into a fit of giggles before being dragged to their feet by the newcomers and led out of the bathroom, leaving Eddie alone and reeling and struggling to process literally everything he’s just overheard. He finally hops down from his toilet perch and exits the stall like he’s in a daze. He’s not sure how long he had been camped out in there - probably only about ten minutes - but it felt like hours, so long that the world outside of that single bathroom stall almost feels foreign and unfamiliar now. 
Eddie grips the bathroom sink and stares at his flustered reflection in the mirror and whispers to himself, “What the actual fuck?” 
---
Later, years later, only after he and Steve are already dating, Eddie tells him all about this experience, and Steve laughs so hard he nearly cries.
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sunkendreams · 5 months
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WHAT COULD’VE BEEN.
( michael schmidt x fem!reader. )
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༄ ⠀𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | michael schmidt x [fem!]reader.
༄ ⠀𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 8.8K.
༄ ⠀𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭 | one-shot, not requested. potentially multiple parts.
༄ ⠀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | mentions of past trauma, depression, friends to lovers, confession of feelings, mutual pining, explicit sexual content/smut, virgin!mike, loss of virginity, mike is definitely more submissive here, vaginal sex, riding, making out, dry humping, hair pulling, light dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex (pls wrap it), cum play, mike moans a lot I don’t make the rules !!
༄ ⠀𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | you guys should’ve seen this coming from a mile away … anyway !! I hope you guys enjoy, I loved the movie & I love Mike even more! If this fic gets good reception, I would like to make a second part or more Mike fics! Please let me know what you think! Thanks so much for your love & support, you guys are just fantastic! ❤️
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❝ “What could’ve been, Mike?” You whispered, absentmindedly rocking closer until your chest nearly bumped into his shoulder.
A saccharine affection glistened within his warm stare, enough to burn a hole right through you as he squeezed your hand. “Us.” ❞
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Sparky’s Diner stands proud alongside the highway, a now-dilapidated fixture of a small town. Your parents used to take you here as a child, and at one point, it was your grandmother’s favorite place to eat. Now, it almost seemed forlorn, with the occasional gaggle of patrons or stragglers, but nothing more. You were seated in one of the creaking booths, slumped forward.
Cars whistle past a smudged window pane, slivers of daylight trickling through as they catch against the ceramic surface of your coffee mug. Your leg bounces — it mirrors that of the man sitting across from you. Silence fills the void between the both of you, a tenuous moment that seems to last an eternity until you hear a brief clearing of a throat.
“How’ve you been?”
You hadn’t seen much of Michael Schmidt since the incident at the mall — it was almost as if he’d become the resident recluse, and part of you couldn’t fault him for that. You were working at Auntie Anne’s Pretzels, now doomed as a paper-pusher at the career center. You’d run into Mike that way days prior.
It was a loaded question — you were unsure of how to proceed. Part of you wanted to inquire about his own wellbeing. Exhaustion glistened on his features as if they were a permanent fixture, from the bags underneath his eyes to the far-off look in his bloodshot gaze.
He kept his hands stuffed into his pockets, his stare momentarily trailing between you and the lukewarm mug of coffee sitting in front of him. Mike recalled the days of working at the mall with you — it almost seemed a little easier back then, when he wasn’t completely weighed-down by nightmares and job instability.
Mike still held this nagging sense of guilt for letting your friendship crumble after the mall. You’d tried to reach out on numerous occasions, even after his arrest for assault and battery — no one else had done the same. It was scorched earth wherever he stood, and there wasn’t a single soul willing to get close.
“I’m doing well enough,” Your answer finally emerged after a near-endless bout of silence. The warmth had drained from your mug, but it gave you something to hold onto. “How’s Abby?” Mike’s younger sister was his entire world — you often commended him for his undying commitment to her.
Gone were the days of you sneaking her free cinnamon-sugar pretzels and delivering the leftovers to Mike once your shifts were through. You missed it — it almost felt like some distant dream, when in reality, it was only a year and a handful of months ago.
Any mention of Abby often struck a chord within Mike, as if an amalgamation of memories had come back to haunt him. His countenance was a reflection of that — still anchored down by the ghosts of the past. His dreams were becoming more vivid — worse, even. A sinking feeling consumed him then, jaw tightening as he fought against the onslaught of emotion.
A grimace flickered across his visage, enough for you to become concerned. Your heart began to beat a little faster — had something happened to her? “Mike?” You prompted, voice dropping an octave, softening up as you tilted forward. The last thing you wanted was to bring up painful memories.
You knew about his brother, Garrett.
“She’s fine,” Mike exhaled, pocketed hands perched atop his lap. He hadn’t intended to sound harsh, gaze apologetic as he looked back at you. “I’m sorry. My Aunt, ah … She’s trying to get sole custody of Abby. It’s been an uphill battle.” He confessed, tone downtrodden.
“Mike,” You murmured, brows knitting together as you abandoned your mug, hands twisting themselves together. The pain etched into his face was unmistakable — and he was holding himself together through it all. “That’s awful. Have you talked to the courts?”
A humorless huff of laughter escaped him, followed by a more indifferent expression. “No,” He leaned back within his seat, hands withdrawing themselves from his pockets, splayed out across his lap, instead. “I’m definitely not fit to be raising a kid, I know that much.” Mike sighed, eyes fluttering in the opposite direction.
Protest formed upon the tip of your tongue, prompting you into action. “That’s not true. She’s been glued to your hip, even when we worked at the mall. I think if a Judge saw how much the two of you mean to one another, they wouldn’t take her away.” You murmured.
This was the you that he’d sorely missed — one full of tenderness and a gentle optimism. Mike wanted to believe you, but given the overwhelming circumstances and his Aunt’s persistence, it felt like a losing situation. At least, for now, he had time to work this new job and gain some rapport in the process.
“I hope so,” Mike folded his hands together, resting them atop the stained, plastic tabletop. He wanted to change the subject — for now, anyway. “Thanks for still sticking with me, even after all this time.” He murmured, a pang of guilt gnawing away at his insides. You were a good person — the best that he knew.
He felt like he’d squandered away your friendship to slip into this veil of reclusiveness, instead of still holding onto you, that little ray of sunshine. Mike wanted to make amends with you, and he wanted to start down that path before he’d inevitably ruin it again.
An empathetic smile crept onto your features, followed by a soft exhale. “I wish that we hung out a little more,” You mused, tucking a fist underneath your chin. “But I understand that you’re busy. Did that job work out with Mr. Raglan?” You inquired, eyes sparkling with intrigue.
Mike’s breath hitched within his throat, a very subtle noise — he missed you terribly. Jeremiah used to tease and torment him about the colossal crush he had on you, but those times were buried within the past. His sentiments hadn’t changed, but he didn’t think he brought anything to the table, admittedly.
The job.
A security gig of an obliterated restaurant franchise where the animatronics were operated by the spirits of dead children — that job? Even after the revelation delivered to him by his own sister days prior, he still felt drawn to that place, as if he needed to be there. Abby had fun whenever he took her there — it was comforting to see her laugh and smile again.
“Yeah, the security gig.” A lump formed within his throat. He wanted to tell you all about the haunting at Freddy Fazbear’s, but it almost seemed too unbelievable. He didn’t expect you to believe him anymore after he’d grown distant from you. “It’s going. The pay is horrible, but it’s the only place that’ll take me.”
Mr. Raglan was often attempting to lure people into this security position at Freddy Fazbear’s — it must’ve been a profession with an abnormally-high turnover rate. You recalled one instance of him trying to barter with some older man to take the job.
Your memory of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria was wonderfully vibrant — some of your favorite memories were spent at that restaurant as a child. Friend’s birthday parties, end-of-school summer celebrations, and your own birthday on a handful of occasions. Though, even with brighter times, there was always a splash of darkness.
One of your childhood friends had gone missing — everyone knew about the tale of the disappearing children. Your parents forbid you from going back to that establishment after law enforcement swarmed the place, with detectives scouring it from top to bottom. With a place as family-friendly as Freddy’s being involved at the center of child disappearances, it shut down.
“Freddy’s?” You asked, shifting within your seat. Mike’s countenance held a little spark of uncertainty intermingled with fear — enough for you to mention something about the restaurant’s gruesome history. “It’s supposedly haunted. You haven’t encountered any paranormal activity at night, have you?” You teased, head canting to one side.
Mike couldn’t help but smile — a sardonic, somewhat bemused expression that happened to evoke your curiosity once more. “Something like that.” It was difficult to discern if he was joking or not, truth be told. “Working the night shift, you think you see things — the mind playing tricks or something.” He was afraid of telling you the whole truth right away.
That explained his haggard, sunken look — the disheveled tresses and forlorn stare. He must’ve been exhausted from working nights. You never had the experience of a third shift, but you didn’t envy him. “You look tired,” You chimed, and then, a proposal came to fruition. “Would you want help with watching Abby?”
Max stopped answering her phone, as if she’d become wholly disinterested in babysitting altogether. He couldn’t really blame her — he hadn’t paid up and Abby could be just as reclusive as he was. “No, no. You don’t have to do that. Between you and me, I’ve been taking her to work with me. She likes it there.”
A gentle smile fluttered across your features. The animatronics were adorable — you imagined that Abby liked them quite a bit. “Sure, Mike. If you need help, don’t hesitate to ask. I have some downtime with my job, I don’t know if you can say the same.”
Mike’s heart skipped a beat, chocolate hues captivated by your softened visage. Your smile was mesmerizing — that was still a constant about you, it hadn’t changed whatsoever. Those inklings of affection were spiraling into tidal waves, as if he were back at the mall again, fawning over you from afar as you handed out pretzels.
“Thanks, I really appreciate it.” He chewed at the inside of his cheek, debating on whether or not he should invite you to come with him to the next shift he worked. It wasn’t a good idea — the animatronics were hostile toward adults, he realized. Maybe Abby could remedy that. “So, are you …” He trailed off.
Were you seeing anybody?
Did you enjoy your job?
Did you want to come over to his place for pizza?
Were you still planning on going to university?
Akin to a deer in the headlights, Mike’s fingers curled into the rough fabric of his jeans as he pondered on what exactly to ask you. He wanted to fully catch up, away from the public spotlight of a run-down, dingy diner — not that his house was any better, but he could clean up.
“Are you going to university?” It was a cowardly option — he could’ve chosen the emboldened route, but it felt too soon, inquiring about details of your personal life. You didn’t owe him anything. You’d talked about going to the University of Utah countless times.
Part of you wanted to inquire about the intricacies of his own life — about his Aunt, about Abby, and perhaps delving a little deeper. You really liked Mike, especially when working at the mall together, and after all this time, nothing had changed. A soft burst of laughter escaped you, followed by a wrinkling of your nose.
“No,” You sighed, tapping your fingers against the ceramic mug sitting on your left. “I don’t know if I can go and realistically afford it. I don’t want to run myself into the ground just for school, you know? I’m trying to save up as much as I can.” Your dreams were still present — just seemingly out-of-reach.
Mike could see the flicker of frustration settle into your features, and he felt for you. He’d thought about trying for engineering at one point in time, but with his parents passing away and the weight of responsibility falling upon his shoulders, it all fell through. “I understand,” He scratched at the top of his hand. “You’ve always been too smart for me.” He mused.
“That’s not true,” You protested, playfully rolling your eyes as you nudged at his shin with your foot. “You’re just as intelligent, if not more. Do you remember when you helped me fix the salt dispenser?” A sense of giddiness rippled through you when Mike smiled — nearly tangible, oozing with warmth.
“I remember,” An inkling of humor crept into his tone, accompanied by a fluctuating smile. “I don’t think you knew what the word ‘twist’ meant.” He prodded, dark eyes twinkling with mirth as the two of you engaged in banter about work — back then, at least.
A scoff left you, but your smile remained ever-present, dimples forming at either corner of your mouth. “In my defense, it was needlessly complex. You can agree with me.” You laughed, glancing outside once more. The day was still young, trees swaying with the breeze as patrons came in and out of the diner.
“Sure,” Mike chuckled, pearlescent teeth flashing in the brief hint of a grin before it began to wane. It was a disappointment, really — you would’ve liked to see more of that. “I do miss the free pretzels.” He mused, voice having lowered to a more amiable tone. Part of him yearned for the days back at the mall — it all seemed a little easier, back then. His Aunt wasn’t trying to take his sister away, and the money was better.
The Mike that you knew back during your time in the mall was laced with a wisecrack humor, as smart as a whip, and often full of conversation. You could tell that he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders — it was his eternal burden, it seemed. Selflessness and compassion were ingrained into him, a second nature or instinct, and you admired him all the more for it.
“I missed you, Mike.” You confessed, gaze seemingly forlorn as the two of you lamented about the not-too-distant past.
It was as if you’d stolen the air right from his lungs, ripped it away with your bare hand. Goosebumps formed along the column of his spine, prompting him to shift within the cracking leather of the booth. You’d rendered him speechless, enough to where he felt the need to try and recuperate, lips parting as if to speak — words turned to ash upon his tongue.
Mike missed you more than words could properly describe — he couldn’t convey whatever it was he wanted to say. He’d kick himself knowing that he let this go, let you go, when it could’ve been his all along. A bevy of emotions stirred within his chest, prompting him to dig the heel of his palms into his legs.
Maybe that lifeline, that support — it was something that he sorely needed. That was his justification, his excuse to say he needed you in a roundabout way. Finally, he allowed himself to relax, jaw clenching and unclenching within the same breath.
“Yeah,” Mike nodded, gaining the courage to look you in the eyes this time. “I missed you, too.” His confession hung heavy, like a weight dragging the both of you back into this unspoken sentiment. Whatever courage was instilled in him, he decided to go the extra mile. “You should come over sometime.”
Exhilaration happened to be a mere understatement for whatever it was you felt in that moment — it was borderline ecstasy. You were wholly prepared to launch yourself at the opportunity to spend time with him again, but you composed yourself, keeping any giddiness at bay as you nodded.
“I’d like that — I’d like that a lot, Mike. It’d be nice to see Abby again, too.” You smiled, excitement dancing across your features, barely restrained as you cleared your throat. “I don’t want it to conflict with your work schedule or anything.” You blurted, hoping that he’d be able to keep up with sleep, too.
He couldn’t recall the last time he’d invited someone over, but this was you — Mike had already squandered your friendship once before, and he wasn’t about to repeat the past again. It weighed on his conscience enough. “It won’t. Promise.” He reassured you, unable to keep from smiling this time. “Tomorrow night?”
Heat crawled across your features, sinking into your very bones as you cleared your throat. “Tomorrow night works perfectly.” You checked your watch out of habit, nearly cursing yourself when you realized what time it was. You had fifteen minutes to spare before you were officially late for work. “Shit. I’m going to be late for work.”
“I understand. Walk you to your car?” Mike offered, gesturing toward the weed-laden parking lot as you scrambled to toss a crumpled twenty-dollar bill onto the countertop.
“Of course.” Each night after work, he’d walk you to your beat-down, shitty Acura, making sure that you were safe and sound in the dark parking lot. It was comforting to know that his habit hadn’t changed in the slightest.
Once outside, Mike stuck close to your side, hands slipping back into the pockets of his faded jacket as he walked with you to your car. Trash billowed through the parking lot like a tumbleweed, narrowly missing the front of your Acura. “She’s still running?” He teased, patting the top of your decaying vehicle.
“Hey, don’t be mean to the car. It’s still chugging along. That’s more than you can say about your Accord.” You snickered, tossing your bag inside of the passenger door before turning toward Mike. Awkwardness welled inside of you — it wasn’t like you hadn’t hugged him before, but something nagged away at you this time.
Mike let out a huff of laughter, head canting to one side. “Touché.” He mused, visage softening as he looked you over. You were pretty — too pretty for him, but he decided to skip over the brief bout of self-depreciation. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” His voice trailed off in something of an inquiry.
“Absolutely. I’m excited,” You beamed, and without thinking this time, shuffled closer to give him a hug. Much to your delight, he reciprocated, arms wrapping tightly around you, bringing you in against his chest. You could’ve stayed that way for an eternity — but now, you had ten minutes to spare before work. “Thank you, Mike. For everything.”
He was completely and utterly undeserving of you, but Mike counted his lucky stars that you still wanted to stick around. Instead, he accepted your gratitude, wanting to hold you just a little longer — if only. He reluctantly relinquished his grasp on you, gaze oozing with a saccharine warmth. “Yeah,” He nodded. “Drive safe.”
You smiled, exuberant and chipper before you squeezed his hand. “See you tomorrow.” You mused, hopping into the driver’s seat of your rattling, sputtering Acura as you sluggishly pulled out of the parking lot and out onto the road.
Mike lingered in the lot, glancing toward the fading pavement, and then toward the sky — he had so much cleaning up to do tomorrow.
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“Help me clean up around here, and I’ll buy you new crayons.”
It was the only viable bribing he could do to get Abby to help him with picking up around the house. Given his chaotic work schedule and the newfound circumstances with the haunted animatronics, there was little time to keep the house tidy.
He’d gone to work that night after you’d departed from the parking lot, slept a little bit while Abby entertained herself with her friends, and went home when the sun came up. He was tense after the first few times he’d taken Abby to the Pizzeria — the animatronics were still dangerous, but nothing bad had happened.
Yet, anyway.
“Who’s coming over?” Abby asked, collecting remnants of trash and crayon pieces from around the living room, depositing it all into the trash can. “Why do we have to clean up if it’s Aunt Jane?” She mumbled, somewhat dejected as Mike scrubbed the dishes.
“It’s not Aunt Jane,” He cleared his throat, visage swarming with heat as it turned a light shade of pink. “You remember Y/N, right? From the mall — she worked at the pretzel place. She gave you the sugar pretzels.�� Mike hoped that his sister would remember you, but there were no guarantees. It’d been awhile.
Abby gasped, realization glittering across her features as she grinned — toothy and mischievous. “You like her,” She prompted, standing by her brother as he tediously made his way through the stack sitting by the sink. “Is she coming over for a date?”
“No, it’s not a date, Abby.” Mike groaned, flicking a wad of soapy bubbles at her. She squealed, smacking at his arm before he gestured toward the closet. “Need you to run the vacuum around, okay?” He sighed, wondering if he’d end up regretting this.
“Okay.” Abby sighed, begrudgingly making her way to the storage closet, haphazardly untangling the cord to the vacuum before plugging it in. “Can we get pizza?” She asked, standing beside the couch, vacuum sitting next to her. “Please, Mike?”
“We’ll get pizza, Abs.” He hesitated, swiveling upon his heel as she sat atop the arm of the couch, watching him finish up the dishes instead of vacuuming. “Does the floor clean itself?” Mike teased with a grin, prompting his sister to hop off of her perch, starting up the vacuum as she began to run it around the living room.
By the time Abby finished vacuuming and he’d gotten the kitchen into a near-spotless state, he focused on tidying up his bedroom and getting the laundry together. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone through the entire house like this on a whirlwind just to make it tidy for you — and he’d do it all again if he needed to.
As he tucked the corner of his blanket underneath the pillow, he heard a knock at the door. Mike assumed that it was the pizza guy — or so he hoped. He wanted everything to be perfect, considering that you hadn’t really hung out together since the mall.
“Mike! Pizza!” Abby called out, sitting at the dining room table with a handful of crayons and sheets of paper. She was drawing another picture for her friends — it was all of them in a field of flowers, accompanied by a bright sun and plenty of birds.
It gave him an opportunity to check over the house as he made his way to the front door, ensuring that everything looked spotless. Admittedly, it was the best the house had looked in several months — a twinge of pride rippled through him as he opened up the door.
After Mike handed him a very weathered twenty, the man reluctantly handed the pizza boxes over before hopping off of the front steps.
The timing was perfect — ten minutes later, and the guttural lurching of your Acura could be heard pulling into the driveway outside. Mike placed the pizza onto the table, tossing a handful of paper plates beside it. Abby leaned over, peering toward the door as he lingered close by.
You were nervous — you couldn’t explain it.
Part of you felt wonderfully ridiculous, having worn something that you considered cute to his house, applied a splash of makeup here and there. As you sluggishly made your way to his front door, you smoothed your hands over your blouse, hands knitting together. You waited a beat, and knocked on the door.
Mike was there instantaneously, as if he’d somehow teleported to that very spot. The door flung open, and you were greeted by his beaming countenance. It was the happiest you’d seen him in some time, which was something of a relief. He looked attractive — the emerald sweater suited him perfectly.
“Hi,” You greeted, offering him a brief wave as you stepped inside, only to be swarmed by Abby in the process. “Abby!” You giggled, stooping down to return the girl’s hug. “You’ve gotten taller, haven’t you? You’re going to beat your brother in no time.” You teased, lips twitching into a grin.
“Did you bring any pretzels?” Abby asked, staring at you with those large, doe-like eyes. A pang of guilt struck at your stomach — you hadn’t worked at Auntie Anne’s for several months now.
“No,” You sighed, shaking your head back and forth. “I don’t make pretzels anymore. I put away lots of paperwork now.” It sounded less appealing when you said it outloud. “I did bring something else for you, though.” You unzipped your bag, revealing a very fuzzy, stuffed rabbit.
Abby gasped, taking ahold of your gift as she squeezed it against her chest. “He’s so cute!” She giggled, showing off the bunny to Mike, who couldn’t help but smile. You’d always been very good to Abby, able to forge a bond with her that he envied on occasion. “Thank you!”
Laughter bubbled forth from your lips, mirth sparkling upon your features. “Of course! I hope he keeps you warm at night.” You mused, glancing towards the pizza boxes organized in a neat row on the dining room table. “You got Greek’s? You’re spoiling me.”
As Abby hopped toward the table to dig into the cheese pizza, Mike gestured at the kitchen. You followed him over, removing your jacket as you hung it on one of the pegs along the wall. “Want something to drink?” He asked, noticing the bemused expression you wore. “I don’t have anything stronger than Dr. Pepper.”
Your nose wrinkled in amusement as you leaned against the countertop, glancing over your shoulder at Abby. The rabbit sat soundly at her side, crayons and paper scattered on the empty side of the table. “I’ll just drink Dr. Pepper.” You chimed, having a gander at your surroundings. You’d been to his place several times before, but it was abnormally spotless.
“Sure,” Mike mused, handing you a can of soda before clearing his throat. “Abby wants to watch Labyrinth, if that’s okay with you.” He’d watched the movie a hundred times before — it was one of her favorites. Unfortunately, he’d memorized most of Bowie’s quotes throughout the film.
“Absolutely,” You chuckled, popping open the drink with a soft hiss. “I wouldn’t say no to that, anyway. It’s a certified classic.” With a bright smile, you and Mike returned to the table, joining Abby as you ate pizza together. The atmosphere was beyond comforting to you — you wondered why you were so anxious to begin with.
It felt like home.
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“You don’t like it, do you?”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell that Mike was completely and utterly bored with Labyrinth. The two of you sat a comfortable distance away on the couch, Abby laying on the floor, dozing in and out of slumber. You kept your voice hushed, knees tucked toward your chest as a playful smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.
“Do you know how many times I’ve seen this movie?” Mike whispered, rolling off of the couch as he stooped down to pick up Abby, making sure to grab her rabbit, too. “I’m gonna put her to bed.” He murmured, and you decided to follow, making sure to retrieve her crayons and half-drawn doodles.
As Mike slowly crept into Abby’s room, he tucked his sister into bed, making sure that she had her stuffed animal, blankets neat around her. You stacked the crayons and drawings back onto her desk, standing at the fringes of the doorway.
Crickets chirped outside as dusk settled like a cool blanket, stars spattered across the night sky. It was peaceful, especially as you watched Mike press a kiss against the top of Abby’s head.
Once he closed the door behind him, the two of you returned to the living room. You were more than happy to help him clean up the pizza remnants and any dishes, folding up the boxes to put into the trash until you were both back on the couch again.
“I’ve had a lot of fun tonight, Mike. Thank you for inviting me over — and for buying me dinner, too.” You mused, the two of you a little closer than before. Labyrinth provided a simple background lull, the volume barely above silent. “Do you want me to pay you back?”
“I’m glad we got to do this again,” Mike felt butterflies erupt within the pit of his stomach. The sudden realization of being alone with you was tantalizing, at best. Gooseflesh spread across the back of his neck, one hand poised atop the arm of the sofa. “Don’t worry about dinner. It’s on me.”
“Okay,” A soft huff of laughter left you as you tilted your head back against the plush material, one hand within your lap as the other dangled uselessly at your side. “Could I ask you something?”
Mike nodded, swallowing the growing lump within this throat. A nervous excitement flared up inside of him, as if a match had been struck. A slick perspiration broke out on his palms — he wanted to tell you everything. About the animatronics, about Garrett, about how he felt about you — and yet, he was afraid. “Anything.”
You briefly chewed at the inside of your cheek, adjusting your position to look at him fully. “Did I do something wrong to cause you to pull away from me?” You asked, voice dropping into a soft lull. It was a question that had been on your mind since this whole rekindling.
“Absolutely not,” Mike blurted, and immediately shook his head. “It’s just — after what happened at the mall, I was afraid of what you’d think of me.” He confessed, dark hues echoing with shame. “Legal issues piled up, I was out of a job. It’s been a lot.”
What do you think of him?
Mike Schmidt was the center of your world for the longest time — and now that he was back, it was as if the Moon had come back into orbit, bright and full again. He was perfectly imperfect in your eyes, and you wouldn’t change anything at all. “Mike,” You mumbled, reaching for his hand as your fingers closed around his own. “I don’t think any less of you. I never have.”
Your skin was smooth, velveteen as he adjusted his grip, fingers twining together as you sat on the couch, closer than ever before. The distance between the both of you was steadily declining, and he didn’t mind. “I felt like I ruined things between us before,” He murmured. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”
Your heart thrummed within your chest, beating erratically beneath your breast. A subtle gasp hitched within your throat, producing only a sliver of sound. “You didn’t ruin anything. You’ve been through so much, Mike. I can’t blame you for needing space.”
“I felt like I lost what could have been.” He confessed, voice growing abnormally thick. Mike stared at you with those round, dark eyes of his — they were impossibly beautiful, like an inescapable maze. You wondered what he meant by that — what could have been.
Whatever he meant, you hoped that it meant one thing — something unspoken, the sentiment that lingered between the two of you. It was as if a flame had been stoked, roaring to life again as it steadily consumed the both of you.
“What could’ve been, Mike?” You whispered, absentmindedly rocking closer until your chest nearly bumped into his shoulder.
A saccharine affection glistened within his warm stare, enough to burn a hole right through you as he squeezed your hand. “Us.” He exhaled, jaw clenching and unclenching, a nervous habit of his.
Your lips were melded to his before either of you had a chance to properly absorb the weight of the moment. He was a gentle kisser — so sweet and oozing with compassion that you wanted to drown in it. His week-old stubble scratched against your visage, a sign that this was all very real.
Experience wasn’t a foreign concept for you, but Mike was — he was so tender, as if any movement might break you into pieces. Even his kisses were sluggish, as if he were really taking his time. You couldn’t complain about that whatsoever. You rocked forward, untangling your hands as your digits twisted into his sweater.
“Hey,” Mike breathed, doe-eyed and dazed as he withdrew, mere inches apart from you. “Are you okay with this?” He asked, ensuring that you were comfortable before going any further. He hadn’t had sex — maybe everything before, but nothing further.
“Yeah,” You nodded, keeping your voice low as you felt his arm wrap around you. “Are you? I don’t want you to push anything if you aren’t comfortable.” You murmured, and he shook his head, pressing another soft kiss against your mouth.
His fingers swept across your cheek, caressing along your jaw as he cradled your face within his palm. “I’m fine,” Mike reassured you, but his heartbeat said otherwise. Exhilaration and excitement were mere understatements. Everything else had paled in comparison to you in that moment. “You’re really beautiful.”
A soft wisp of air tore past your parted lips, gaze becoming half-lidded as you repositioned your hands, one slipping against the nape of his neck. The other remained stationary atop his chest, and you leaned in again for another passionate kiss.
Mike was warm — he was everything you’d ever wanted.
Distance became slim, next to nothing as you crawled into his lap, slotted atop one of his thighs as you continued to kiss him. It turned sultry, charged with a more intimate element as one hand settled against your hip, digits toying with the hem of your blouse. His scent was that of cologne and fresh linens, perhaps a hint of something sweet.
He switched the television off, holding you close, chest to chest as you broke away from the kiss. The way he looked at you was mesmerizing to behold — Mike stared at you as if you were some diamond in the rough. You pressed your lips against his cheek, reveling in the way he keened into your embrace.
Your mouth peppered a string of kisses along his jaw, tugging some of his sweater down as you made your way along his neck. A soft, simpering groan escaped him when your mouth met his neck, enough for you to shiver with delight. His hands began to skim underneath your shirt, feeling along your curves.
“S’nice.” Mike mumbled, able to feel the tangible imprint of your smile against his jugular. Admittedly, he hadn’t been kissed like that — he nearly asked for you to do it again, tugging you closer as your mouth crept back up, lips seamlessly melding against his.
He was sweet — you thoroughly enjoyed the way he touched you, with a gallant certainty. There wasn’t a singular domineering bone in his body, and you were all the more grateful for it. You nearly flew out of his lap when you heard a noise from the kitchen.
“Bedroom?” You whispered, watching as Mike nodded, moving up from the couch as he reached for your hand this time. It was a very short skip to his room, which happened to be impeccably clean, just like the rest of the house. It was dark and nondescript, but before you could analyze it all, you felt his hands fly back to your blouse.
You lifted your arms, feeling the weight of the fabric leave your body. Goosebumps followed like a tidal wave, scrawled across your flesh as Mike kissed you again. It never lacked passion — it wasn’t rough nor desiring dominance, just complete and utter sweetness.
Mike was hesitant to confess to being a virgin — it didn’t necessarily matter, but it came back to the whole notion of what you would think. He wasn’t clueless in the slightest, but you deserved to know. Maybe you’d be disappointed.
As you sank down onto the edge of the mattress, he followed suit, clamoring with you until the both of you ended up tangled together atop the pillows. Every kiss was heartachingly sweet, fused together with a blistering tenderness. Your heat tilted, deepening your entanglement as your hands clutched at his sweater.
“I’ve never done this before,” He murmured, prompting you to pause, feeling the weight of his body partially draped on top of you. “Does that bother you?” Mike asked, earthen hues scanning your expression for any sign of hesitancy.
“No, it doesn’t bother me.” In fact, you found it to be endearing — it made everything sweeter. “I’ve done this before. Does that bother you?” It wasn’t something that you wore as a badge of honor. He was a shitty guy anyway, but what happened, happened.
Mike gently shook his head, feeling your fingers slip underneath the hem of his sweater. “Not in the slightest.” He replied, voice barely above a whisper. His hands stilled for a moment, stomach sloshing with excitement and a newfound sense of giddiness. “Can I touch you?”
His asking for consent was sweet — perhaps it was the doe-eyed, affectionate look he had or the soft tone of his voice, or both. Nonetheless, you found yourself enticed, feeling his hands dance around the waistband of your jeans. You were the emboldened one, wriggling out of the snug garment without warning.
“Yes,” You uttered, giving his sweater another urgent tug, wanting to feel more of him. Mike obliged, kneeling between your legs as he removed the emerald-colored garment, letting it join the pile amassing at the foot of his bed. “You’re so pretty.” You sighed, and he blushed.
The compliment did wonders for him, and he became visibly smitten by your words. He was all lean muscle, nothing bulky or grotesque, broad shoulders layered in a light smattering of freckles. “Thanks.” It got him to smile again, dutifully returning to you as he swallowed the growing lump within his throat.
Before you had time to conjure up a playful remark, his mouth was against yours, body closer than before as his hands felt across your form. Your arms draped themselves around his neck, fingers roaming through his dark tresses as you gave them a light tug. It elicited a soft noise from the back of his throat.
He kissed you until your lips were swollen, chasing after that sensation. Even kissing you made him aroused, cock pulsating with a dull throbbing as his thigh nudged against your clothed core. It became increasingly hot and less tactful, kisses devolving into a mess of need — teeth, tongue, and want.
It was his turn to layer the column of your throat in a myriad of kisses, stubble tickling the silky flesh of your neck. Your knees squeezed at his hips, feeling one of his hands knead into your clothed chest, gently groping at your breast. A low moan escaped you, and you only wanted more.
“Keep going.” You encouraged, voice breathy and wrought with a sultry tension. You reached back, hastily fiddling with the clasp of your brassiere, flinging the garment aside. Mike’s visage was permanently tinted with a shade of rose, lips parting as he resumed his touching.
Instead, his hand skimmed lower, and he searched your countenance for any signal of disdain as it dipped beneath the waistline of your panties. Mike’s breath hitched within his throat when he touched you, fingers finding your cunt, already slick with arousal. “More?” He asked, seeking a little bit of guidance.
“Yes,” You groaned, hips canting forward into his embrace, desperate for friction. He provided it to you with a swiftness, hunched over you as two digits slipped past your folds, stroking along your slit. “Mike!” Another simpering whine left you, one hand clutching onto his shoulder.
He was so sweet, like sticky, oozing honey as he pressed a string of kisses along the side of your face, pressing himself closer as his fingers found their rhythm. They slid against your aching core, one circling around your clit, causing you to lurch forward.
Mike appeared surprised when you reached for his belt, hastily unclasping it with one hand. Another pang of excitement struck him as you delved beneath his jeans with a neediness that he so desperately craved. He was starved for contact, ministrations slowing when your hand slipped into his boxers.
His cock twitched, bleeding heat into your palm as you felt around, experimenting at first. There was a dazed, needy look in his eyes, chocolate hues glazed-over by a sheen of want. Desperation was a mere understatement — he was starving, needing the contact like he needed air. You provided, amiable as ever.
“You — You don’t have to,” Mike mumbled, attempting to mask the complete and utter bliss he was feeling in that moment. As your soft palm wrapped around his cock, he let out a guttural whine, forehead pressed into yours. “Jesus.” He groaned, trying to keep his volume at a reasonable octave.
“Don’t stop,” You huffed, feeling him sink lower onto you, heat radiating from your entangled bodies. “Mike, please.” Another moan left you when he resumed in full swing, barely able to focus on pleasuring you and his own state of enjoyment.
As his thumb pressed into your clit, his other digits sought to gently prod at your cunt, beginning to work themselves inside of you. It was perfectly in-tandem with the slow strokes of your palm around his erection, pumping at his length with a scorching level of desire. He was panting in your ear, hips snapping forward into your hand.
It was heat and desire and passion that blossomed between the both of you, like a thick, inescapable haze. His flesh felt dewy beneath your fingertips, which found residence against the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of his disheveled tresses.
He was borderline rutting into your thigh, lurching forward into your fist, cock throbbing with a dull ache as you continued to stroke him off. Mike wanted to be loud, but there was a risk involved in that. A needy, sonorous moan left him, ghosting above the shell of your ear as his fingers gently pistoned in and out of your tight cunt.
“You’re perfect,” He breathed, mumbling an incoherent string of sweet nothings into your shoulder. Perspiration crept along the column of your spine, knees occasionally squeezing at Mike’s hips as the two of you touched one another as if it were your last time. “Perfect.” Mike mumbled again.
You tugged on his hair, dragging him closer for another sloppy, obliging kiss, to which he happily reciprocated. You could hear another whimper leave him as your lips clashed, causing you to shudder in delight. He was thrusting himself into your palm, tendrils of precum slick against your fingers.
“Want me to stop?” You mumbled, and he nodded against your shoulder. Mike knew that if you kept it up, he wouldn’t last — and it seemed completely and utterly pathetic if he did so this early on. Your grasp began to slack, hand slipping out of his boxers.
A twinge of disappointment ripped through you when his hand ceased, but it dissipated just as soon as it appeared. Mike’s hands curled into the waistband of your panties, gingerly easing them down along the length of your legs, body slipping lower as he did so. His gaze silently begged for your consent, and you weren’t about to refuse him.
“Is this okay?” Mike murmured, shuddering in delight when your head bobbed up and down several times over in an enthusiastic nod. He hadn’t done this before, but thankfully, it wasn’t difficult — and he was a quick learner. He pressed a trail of benevolent kisses along your thigh, stubble tickling your flesh in the process.
Your throat became thick, feeling his broad shoulders push past your legs, keeping them parted. “Mike,” A sigh of passion left you, hand clamoring to grasp at his tresses yet again. One hand kneaded into the pliant flesh of your thigh, the other splayed atop your hip bone until your fingers found his.
Nervousness swelled within him as he inched closer, feeling some nagging pang of hesitation. He was terrified of disappointing you, but he remembered what you’d said earlier — you’d never think less of him. “Tell me if it’s too much.” A soft utterance emerged from him before he dipped inward, breath hot as it fanned across your thighs.
Not in the slightest.
His tongue raked hot embers across your cunt, stoking the flame that burned bright within the pit of your stomach. Mike’s head became foggy with lust, swimming with desire as he kept a more exploratory pace. Your honeyed scent wafted around him, dragging him in again as he laps at your slit.
You were in disbelief — he hadn’t done this before? It almost prompted you to ask, but his mouth happened to rip those thoughts right out of your skull. A soft barrage of licks lashing against your cunt had you squirming, hips rolling forward into his mouth. A low moan left the both of you, fingers perusing through his mop of dark curls.
A myriad of whimpers left your parted lips, causing Mike to shift against the mattress, hips grinding forward to relieve some of the friction. His cock strained against his boxers, finding pleasure just in giving it all to you.
A thin layer of dewy perspiration broke out along your flesh, provided by the continuous wave of heat drifting between the both of you. Your thighs quivered as warmth pooled between your thighs, and Mike was there to kiss it all better, tongue trailing over your cunt again and again, stubble prickling at your soft flesh.
He wanted to be inside of you so bad — there was an ache present, one that only you could cure. Mike wanted to savor you, drunk upon your very being as a soft groan left him. Your digits continued to tug on his tresses, causing him to keen forward, lips pursing around your clit.
“S—Shit, Mike!” You mewled, attempting to keep your volume at a hushed octave. It was proving to be increasingly difficult, writhing against him as he hunched inward, nearly forgetting to breathe.
Mike inhaled, kissing the inside of your thigh as he dutifully lapped at your slit again. He alternated between your wet cunt and clit, suckling on the sensitive clutch of nerves. His jaw clenched, hips jolting into the mattress again as he haplessly tried to relieve some of the mounting tension.
Your chest heaved with a myriad of throaty, high-pitched whimpers as he sucked on your clit, stars rippling past your vision. No one had ever gone down on you with such reverence and passion before, but now that you’d gotten a taste, you wanted more.
Jesus — his resolve crumbled with every sound you made, each cant of your hips as you rocked into his mouth. Mike let out a whimper — he almost hoped that you didn’t hear how pathetic it sounded, continuing to lap at your core until you were seeing white.
That coil began to unfurl, blistering heat coursing through you, a white-hot rush of sheer ecstasy that caused you to moan and cry out. Mike continued to sweetly embrace your cunt, lips lightly kissing at your clit. Your body rattled like a leaf, tremors of your orgasm shooting through you.
“I need you,” Mike huffed, his voice strung-out with lust, hoarse and throaty as his fingers clamped into the pliant flesh of your hips. “Please.” You were on the cusp of cumming, hopelessly aroused by his sweet pleas as you lifted his head away, enough for him to look at you.
Those sweet, doe-like eyes of his were dilated with desire, his expression one of sheer desperation, breathing having sped up. You sat up on your elbows, enthralled by the way he hovered between your legs like a ravenous man. “You can have me,” You murmured. “Always.”
Mike sprung into action, hastily tearing his jeans off as he crawled up the length of your body, pressing a string of appreciative kisses against your velveteen skin. “You’ll stop me, right?” He inquired, nearly rendered speechless when you hitched a leg around his waist, fingers grasping at his shoulders.
“Yeah,” You nodded, feeling his fingertips ghost along your hairline, idly pushing disheveled strands aside before he stooped in for a kiss. You had no intention of stopping him whatsoever, reciprocating his affections before you plucked at the waistband of his boxers. “Just go at your own pace, okay?”
He was filled with longing, bursting at the seams as he freed his cock from its confines. He feared that he wouldn’t last long at all if he went this extra mile, but there was no turning back. Mike didn’t want to turn back, either. A moan rippled through him as he dragged the head of his length through your folds.
It reminded you of a feral animal — his countenance glistened with an ardent sensuality, pupils blown-out with lust as he slowly pushed himself inside of you. Admittedly, you loved that Mike was so needy — and he wasn’t ashamed of it, either. He lacked a single ounce of dominance, even if he was on top of you.
“You feel so good,” You moaned, forehead pressed against his own as he began to move, hips awkwardly snapping forward. It was a rocky, unstable rhythm, but you didn’t mind it in the slightest. “Mike,” A wanton sigh left you as your hands found his tresses once more.
Mike’s mouth brushed against yours, thrusting himself inside of you as he gained a rather sluggish pace. His cock throbbed uncomfortably, yearning for a release as he rocked forward again. Another low-pitched whine left him when you tugged on his hair. “I—It’s perfect.” He panted, flesh searing and damp.
His head dropped toward your collarbone, face buried within the crook between your neck and shoulder. A shudder rolled down the length of his spine as you coaxed him close, hips occasionally grinding into his pelvis, creating a friction that he wanted to chase after.
A string of incoherent babbles escaped him, enigmatic and so very breathy, hot skin melding against your own body. His pace became borderline erratic, as if he didn’t know what fit — he just wanted to be inside of you. It felt euphoric, feeling your cunt tighten around his cock as he rutted into you.
Ecstasy blistered through him like a tidal wave, and he almost felt dizzy, fucking into you at a constantly-shifting pace. He alternated from sluggish to swift, unsure of what felt right, but you were mewling into his ear. You showered him with sweetly-spoken praises, mouth seeking his lips for another messy kiss.
Mike’s hips continued to snap forward, cock aching as he neared his release. Your hand snaked between the both of you, thumb circling your clit as he bucked forward again, releasing another groan. “M’close.” Mike huffed, giving you ample forewarning as he kept up the pace.
“Please cum for me,” It was needlessly filthy, the command that tore past your mouth, but it certainly evoked a strong reaction from him. He stammered, letting out a whine as he fucked into you with a lazy passion. “Cum in me, Mike.” You moaned.
He didn’t know if he heard you right, but he rutted into you again and again, cock pulsing with warmth as he came. Mike pulled out halfway through, painting your thigh in hot ropes of his cum, flesh blazing with embarrassment.
Even in the blissful aftermath, he couldn’t help but apologize for the mess. “Sorry,” He was blushing, chest heaving with excitement as he regained his composure, slowly but surely. The rush and exhilarating thrill was still present as he rolled off of the bed, scrambling to retrieve a washcloth from his bathroom. “Here.”
His apology was endearing — sickly-sweet, too. You cleaned yourself off, making sure that the cloth ended up in the dirty laundry. You were sitting up just enough for him to press in behind you, feeling his lips pepper themselves along your spine.
You twisted around, curling into his arms as you draped yourself on top of him, swollen lips coaxing him in for an achingly tender kiss. It was pure bliss — it lacked the crazed desire from earlier, lust dissipating into affection instead. “Are you sure you’ve never done that before?” You mumbled against his mouth.
“Positive,” Mike assured, hiking the sheets up over the both of you, watching as you wormed your way into one of his t-shirts. “You’re really beautiful.” He murmured, digits stroking at your hair, caressing around your temples as you perched your chin atop his chest.
“So are you.” Your smile became saccharine, entranced by your brown-eyed paramour. “Your eyes are pretty,” You uttered, hands splaying themselves out against his chest as he held you close. “So warm.”
Crimson saturated his features as he accepted your doting compliments without question. He wasn’t used to it, but he could adjust. Your lips were swift this time, melding together in a seamless kiss as he took his time, committing every detail of you to memory. “Stay with me?” He murmured, palm lightly caressing at the back of your head.
“Of course.” You settled, limbs tangled together beneath the sheets as you made yourself comfortable within his arms. It was something that you weren’t bound to forget about anytime soon, dozing off to the sound of his steady breathing.
It was the best he’d slept in ages.
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ao3-crack · 11 months
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chiliger · 26 days
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Comic page commissioned by @the-bad-batch-baroness of her fanfic “Suckers”
This page was such a delight to draw and the fic is hilarious, so everyone go read it 🤩
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lostboysmate4ever · 5 months
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Where is all of the fanfics of this guy of movie William Afton?! I need them! 🥺 Just look at his smile!
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