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#fnaf movie fanfiction
sundrop-writes · 6 months
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Picture Perfect
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(Perv)Sub!Mike Schmidt x Dom!Fem!Reader
Summary:
You and Mike have been dating for a few months now, and you have a great thing going. You're both very horny people who are more than happy to indulge in your desires with each other. So why is it that you find him hiding a dirty picture from you when you catch him masturbating one morning?
(Perv)Sub!Mike Schmidt x Dom!Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut. Takes place outside the movie's canon.
Word Count: 5,100
Horror Characters Masterlist | AO3 Link
Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: This is primarily a smut fic; this can be read with or without considering the events of the film, and has no spoilers for the plot of the movie. There are dom/sub dynamics here - Mike is more submissive and the reader is more dominant; because this is a pre-established relationship, the characters have been settled into these dynamics for a while and even though it's not discussed during the fic, we can assume they have established safewords and fully talked about each other's boundaries so everyone is safe and well cared for; she reader has female anatomy, and uses she/her pronouns (but with all my fics, most of the pronouns used are you/yours); this fic does use Y/N. 
For the main smutty parts: some dubious consent - Mike took a picture of the reader’s underwear/up the reader’s skirt before they were dating (when she was sleeping and could not consent) she was physically attracted to him at the time and would have consented to the photo being taken if he could have asked and finds the idea of this happening to be hot but he never asked permission and hid this from her well into their relationship; the reader finds this photo and ‘punishes’ Mike for it even though she likes the photo and enjoys his perverted thoughts about her; descriptions of masturbation - Mike jacks-off when the reader is not looking/not in the room and she walks in on him; mentions of Mike being gagged; mentions of Mike being tied up and overstimulated (multiple orgasms); mentions of Mike eating the reader’s pussy; Mike is called ‘good boy’, ‘Mikey’, ‘baby’; mentions of the reader riding Mike, mentions of creampie kink; mentions of orgasm restriction (toward Mike); marking kink - mentions of the reader biting/marking Mike during a previous sexual encounter; Perv!Mike; mentions of sexual photos being taken with consent (of the reader and of Mike); hair-pulling (towards Mike); thigh riding - Mike rides the reader's thigh as his punishment; mentions of a cock cage (not actually used in the fic); mild pain kink; some descriptions of subspace (even though it’s not called that in the fic); degradation kink (the reader verbally degrades Mike); mentions of spanking; undertones of humiliation kink; mentions of underwear stealing (Mike stole a pair of the reader’s panties in the past); (mild) Mommy kink - Mike calls the reader Mommy (once or twice, it’s not all that prevalent in the fic); finger sucking.
A/N: Here, I did go far beyond what was in the original request, but I saw the mention of Polaroid pictures in the request and my mind immediately went to perv!Mike?? I’m not even sure why. But I had fun with this lmao. And I keep thinking of writing a kind of ‘prequel’ fic of the situation where he originally took the photo, but idk. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! If you want to see more Mike Schmidt fics from me, definitely let me know by reblogging this or commenting on it.
...
When you got out of the shower, the last thing you were expecting to hear was the distinct sound of moans coming from the bedroom. 
Not that you were at all disappointed by the needy, choked off sounds that your boyfriend Mike made. You were just… surprised. 
After the night the two of you had before, the fact that Mike had the desire to masturbate was surprising to say the least. 
You thought that you would have tired him out and left his cock sore and worn out for at least a good day to follow. It had been a rare night when the two of you had the house all to yourselves - Abby was sleeping over at a friend’s place (Mike often credited you with Abby being more open and sociable and feeling up to doing things like this where she wouldn’t have before) - and so, you had certainly taken advantage of that. You enjoyed a night where you could get him in bed without having to gag him or shove his face into a pillow in order to assure his silence. 
You had indulged in his sounds, in fact. 
You had spent the night with him tied to the bed, curious about how many times you could make him cum before his body outright gave up. The answer to that burning question was four, which was a record for him. After the forth orgasm spurted up over his belly, covering him in even more mess, you continued to milk him through it and his softening dick gave you nothing but pathetic clear drips of non-cum - he wept and begged you to stop, threatening that he might pass out from the efforts. 
With the satisfaction of the answer under your belt, and taking in the sight of him so debauched one last time, you finally untied him. And then he spent some time between your thighs, enjoying a reward for being such a good boy, shoving his tongue deep inside of you while the morning sun warmed the curtains, signifying that the two of you had truly been at it all night. 
The two of you eventually slept for a few hours in the morning. After waking up from the haze, you had peeled yourself out from under his heavy grip on your waist when you read the numbers on the digital clock sitting on his nightstand, seeing that it was almost noon - Abby would need to be picked up from her friend’s house soon, and you wanted a shower while Mike was still asleep. 
The last thing you were expecting was to emerge from the shower to the sounds of him getting off yet again. One thing you knew for certain since you had started fucking him - he was insatiable. He was seemingly always horny the moment that he got you behind closed doors. (And often, he couldn’t even wait to get you behind closed doors - something you loved, even if it was inconvenient.) But you thought that a night like last night would tire out the libido of someone even as horny as him. 
But you liked a challenge. 
If he wanted his cock to be truly sore, if he wanted his balls so thoroughly drained - then you would pin him to the bed and ride him with harshness and haste before you had to go pick Abby up. It would be a waste of a shower, but you usually found the feeling of his cum sticking to the inside of your underwear to be a fond one. 
“Mikey,” You called out the playful nickname as you walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. 
You had a towel wrapped around your chest - mostly to keep the chill of the air off you and to keep your wet body from dripping all over the carpet. Modesty wasn’t really a thing between you and Mike, not when you were so intensely familiar with each other’s naked bodies now. 
At the sound of your voice, Mike let out a choked sound, and you saw his movements pause - which was entirely strange. It’s not like you hadn’t seen his naked cock before. It’s not like you hadn’t seen him masturbate before - several times, you had him do so just for your viewing pleasure. 
If he wasn’t allowed to touch himself as a punishment, you always told him so very clearly. But last night, you made no such rule. You simply expected that he wouldn’t want to after the thorough fucking you had given him. So you had to wonder why he was trying to hide from you. 
You walked to stand on his side of the bed, and he stared at you with wide, startled eyes, covering his hard cock with both hands. The sheet was draped around his thighs, revealing his nakedness, as well as showing off the many purpling bite marks that you had left on his chest, stomach, hips and thighs the night before. He was an absolutely perfect picture of sweet debauchery that you would hold fondly in your mind forever. 
“Baby, what are you doing?” You inquired gently, entirely curious as to why he had stopped. “You don’t have to hide from me.” 
“I - I thought you would be in the shower… longer.” He breathed out, pure guilt on his voice. It was almost adorable, seeing how he could go from fucked-out and begging to completely shy about his own desires. 
“I would have invited you to join me in the shower if I knew you wanted more,” You chuckled, stepping forward and running your fingers through his hair, petting him like the sweet puppy that he was. “Needy little thing, aren’t you?” 
Mike leaned into the touch, closing his eyes - the surge of soft pleasure that your simple touch pushed through him caused his arms to go loose, dropping away from shielding his crotch. This made him inadvertently drop something onto the sheets that he had been hiding from you in his closed fist. 
You noticed the ruffle of what sounded like paper and saw the object fall out of the corner of your eye. So you abandoned gently stroking your fingers across his scalp in favor of investigating what it was. 
Mike’s eyes widened in horror and he froze up, completely stiff as you picked up the polaroid picture, and raised it up to get a better look at it. 
Immediately, you knew it was a picture of yourself.��
You knew that Mike had a collection of dirty shots of you. It had only been a few weeks into your sex life when he had pulled out the camera and shyly asked to take pictures of you. You had bargained that he could take as many as he wanted, if you could take some photos of him in return. He kept his pictures of you in a shoebox under his bed and you kept yours in a special jewelry box on your vanity. 
But this picture wasn’t one that you recognized. 
It was your ass - a shot of your dress pulled up from behind, revealing you wearing a simple pair of cotton panties (not something you would have worn for the other ‘photoshoots’, not some impressive lingerie). In the photo, your legs were lazily parted, revealing the way the underwear was slightly caught between the lips of your cunt, even showing your pubes sticking out slightly from the fabric. If you weren’t mistaken, based on the color, that was Mike’s couch you were laying on. 
But when had the photo been taken? 
“Look, Y/N, please, I’m so sorry-” Mike swallowed harshly, desperate to get some air into his lungs as he begged for your forgiveness. “You were just so pretty - and - and - I couldn’t help myself. I know it was awful, just - please, please, don’t be mad.” 
That was when it clicked in your mind. 
You recognized the pattern on the fabric of your dress. You had worn it on the first night you had babysat Abby for Mike - back when the two of you weren’t even dating yet. That night, you had fallen asleep on the couch after you put Abby to bed. And later in the night, you thought nothing of it when you saw Mike’s polaroid camera sitting on a random side table when it hadn’t been there before. It hadn’t even crossed your mind as suspicious after he had woken you up, thanked you for helping out, and let you out the front door for the night. 
That dirty little pervert. 
You resisted the urge to grin at this realization, putting on a stony face and faking anger. You couldn’t have him thinking that this action would pass without punishment. Even if you heavily enjoyed the idea of being a perverted little admirer of you before the two of you even got together. 
You reached over and put your hand on the back of his head, this time digging sharp nails into his hair in a fierce, unforgiving grip instead of petting him so gently. He winced as this, and you noticed a distinct bit of precum weeping out of his still hard cock at the action. You yanked on his head harshly, forcing him to look up at you while you turned the photo around and shoved it in his face. 
Instinctively, knowing that it would likely only make his punishment worse to oggle over his mistakes, he looked you dead in the eyes, resisting the temptation to stare at your ass in the photo. 
“When did you take this?” You asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting him to say it. To emphasize your words, you yanked on his hair again and jabbed the picture closer to his face. 
He breathed out harshly, but didn’t fight against your grip, keeping his large, glossy, guilty eyes staring up at you. 
“Look, I know I did a bad boy thing, I know it was bad, but please, please, I’ll make it up to you.” He begged so beautifully. “I’ll be a good boy, I’ll be a good boy for you, I promise.” 
His words were pitched soft with need, and it was a unique tone that made your stomach clench. As tempting as the offer was, you couldn’t go soft on him now. 
“Answer the question!” You pressed, tugging his neck back even harsher with your grip on his hair. 
“It - it was a long time ago!” He rushed to answer. “I - I shouldn’t have done it, I know that! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” 
“Why did you do it if you knew it was bad?” You asked. 
This was the most interesting question to you. The thing you were most curious about. 
You wondered why Mike felt the need to invade your privacy with something like this when you simply would have given in to his advances if he had asked. 
You had been attracted to Mike since you met him. The entire reason you had taken on the job of babysitting his sister was because you found him to be so intensely attractive, and you wanted to get to know him better. At the time, he was someone who seemed shy and generally anti-social, you yearned to be closer to him. That night, if you had woken up and caught him staring at your panties, you probably would have taken them off and given them to him as a gift just to see his reaction. 
You were too curious to know why he felt that he had to sneak such a dirty photo of you and to this day, even after all that the two of you had done together - still kept that photo a secret. 
“I - I -” 
Mike’s whining stutters were cut off by the sound of the phone ringing. 
You heaved out a sigh and let go of him. On your way along to answer it, you shoved the photo into your purse, which was sitting open on his dresser. He was curious as to why you chose to keep it from him rather than destroying it. He heard your voice brightly from down the hall as you answered the phone and spoke to whoever it was on the other end, and he tattered with nerves as he heard you walking back down the hall. 
“Get dressed.” You barked at him when you reentered the bedroom. “We have to go pick Abby up. We’ll finish talking about this later.” 
Later. That certainly left a lovely slice of doom hanging over his head. 
You had your back turned to him, picking clothes out of the drawer he had cleared for you in his dresser (one step closer to you moving in, he had thought wistfully while moving your stuff into that drawer) - but this left one thing on his mind. 
“Okay.” Mike croaked quietly. “How should I-?” 
He trailed off, and you turned back around with a tee shirt and panties in your hand to see him loosely gripping his still hard cock, slowly beginning to touch himself again. 
You realized that he was asking you how he should finish off, and this caused a wave of spite to roll through you. He thought he still deserved to cum. 
“I didn’t say anything about your dick.” You said, tone harsh and biting. “You don’t get to cum right now. I said get dressed, so get dressed.” 
You dropped your towel casually, moving to get dressed for yourself. This caused a whine from him as your nakedness was once again revealed - something he had seen so many times now that still caused his cock to throb and weep precum, his eyes utterly fixated on the tantalizing sway of your breasts as you leaned down to hook your feet into the fresh panties you had picked out. 
Mike let out a breathy whine, but took his hand off his cock. He looked at you with utterly pleading eyes, clearly wanting you to reconsider - but you wouldn’t budge from the subject. When he didn’t make a move to get up from the bed, you said something that you knew would put some urgency in him. 
“Don’t make me get the cage.” You threatened quietly. 
Mike was up in a moment, moving toward the bathroom to freshen up, eager to follow your instructions. His dick ached at the thought of the cock cage that you had gotten just for him - it was one of the most torturous punishments you had thought up yet. Sometimes he spent whole days with his dick trapped in the metal, unable to get hard, absolutely dizzying - making him silently resent the key worn around your neck that everyone else perceived as an innocent piece of jewelry. 
The two of you got ready for the day and the conflict was soon forgotten when you had Abby in the car. You took her for lunch at some cute little diner that one of your friends had recommended - Sparky’s - and while you ate, you listened to Abby chatter on excitedly about everything she and her friend had done the night before, including ordering pizza, watching a PG13 rated movie (which Mike pretended to disapprove of), painting their nails, and staying up all night telling ‘scary stories’. You were proud of how far she had come, sharing her imagination and joy with others and having some true friends of her own age now. 
After lunch, you and Mike had taken Abby to get some new shoes because she complained that hers were getting too small, and then after some browsing around the mall, it was time to go home and make dinner (if it wasn’t for you, those two would rarely eat anything that wasn’t pre-packaged). After dinner, you helped Abby work on a solar system project for school while Mike napped on the couch (and you couldn’t blame the guy, he had a tiring time the night before). 
You had since put Abby to bed, and busied yourself with cleaning up, glad that Mike was still asleep while you did the dishes. It always pleased you when he slept well - one of the reasons you liked to wear him out with sex was because it was a more natural sleep aid than his medication, and caused him to have a deeper, dreamless sleep without the stupid nightmares. You were more focused on the tasks in front of you than thinking about any possible punishment you might give him over it. 
The fact that Mike had taken a pervy photo of you was all but forgotten in your mind even as you were cleaning up the kitchen later that night. 
The photo and the controversy, the burning questions you had about it only came back to mind as you were attempting to scrub a combination of dried glitter glue and pasta sauce off the table and you noticed Mike not-so-subtly creeping around behind you - attempting to reach into your purse. 
He was trying to take the photo back. 
You quickly tossed down the cloth you had been using to clean up and moved toward Mike instead. You were on him before he could blink, taking his wrist in a bruising grip before his hand could successfully come out of your purse with the photo. 
“What are you doing?” You asked, even though you already knew exactly what he was up to. 
With your thumb pushing harshly into the pulse point of his wrist, and your eyes glaring daggers into his - he was quickly becoming light-headed and soft, the way he always did whenever you were on top of him or when you called him baby boy in that fond, sweet way that you often did. He couldn’t conjure up any real explanation, not when he was feeling this way. 
All he could manage was: 
“But - it’s mine.” He breathed out softly, almost a whiny protest - as if you had taken one of his most precious toys and stashed it away because he had misbehaved. 
In a sense, that was exactly what you had done. 
You could only imagine how many times he had masturbated to the photo before you had caught him. How many times had he cum, looking at that picture of your barely covered ass and pussy before the two of you even got together? Before he even saw you naked for the first time? How many times did he make himself cum when that was his only source of sexual material for his fantasies around you? 
It was these burning questions and the thumping ache between your thighs that spurred your next move. 
You used your hold on his wrist to handle him how you pleased, knowing that a little bit of pain made him so easily pliant to your wills. You shoved him into the small kitchen and shoved him up against one of the counters, beside where your purse was sitting, and he huffed out a quiet whine as you trapped him there. You easily caged him in with one of your hands on either side of his waist, slotting your legs around his so that your thigh was right up against his denim clad crotch. 
You pressed forward slightly with your knee, applying a slight bit of pressure that might be painful on his tender cock and balls (especially after last night). But the roughness of the hard seam of his jeans pressing against his tender flesh, even through his underwear, only lit sparks through him and added to that soft, mushy headspace that he was in. 
He refused to look at you now, shifting his gaze off to the side as you pressed further into his personal space, pressing your nose against the side of his unshaven face. 
“It’s yours?” You posed in response to what he had said, your tone utterly mocking. “It’s yours, is it?” 
You reached off to the side and flawlessly grabbed the photo inside your bag without looking (the texture of a polaroid very unique to feel for) - and you held it up in his view, forcing him to look at it while you spoke again. 
“Then surely, you can explain to me how a good boy like you came to own something like this,” You said, your voice dripping with satire toward the ‘good boy’ title he had given himself earlier that day. 
“I’m sorry,” He whimpered, clearly apologetic about the subject. But- 
“That doesn’t explain how you got this, baby.” You told him, clicking your tongue in a scolding manner. “Come on, tell me about it.” 
You used a hand to grab him by both cheeks between your fingers, forcing him to look at you while he explained it. 
“I - I took it.” He admitted quietly. “I took a picture of you. When you weren’t looking. When you were… sleeping.” 
Again, something you already knew. But it was more satisfying to hear him say it, especially with the sharp bob of his throat as he gulped around his fear. 
“You just looked so pretty, I - I couldn’t help myself.” He whispered, clearly timid to admit his lack of self control. 
Though him lacking self control around you was an intense turn-on for you. 
“After everything I’ve given you, you just had to go and take. You had to be a greedy, filthy, bad boy,” You scolded him sharply. 
“It was different then.” He said quietly. “Then… I - I thought I couldn’t have you. I thought you wouldn’t give me anything at all. I - I didn’t think you’d ever want to fuck me.” 
“Oh?” You huffed quietly, your breath puffing out across his cheek, surprised by this revelation. “So you took this picture because you wanted a filthy little piece of me? You didn’t think I’d ever touch your pathetic needy cock so you had to perv on me in secret, huh?” 
He let out a sharp whine at this. It was rare that you degraded him so harshly, rather than praising him sweetly. Surely enough, even if it was unconsciously fueled by lust, his hips bucked toward you, dragging his cock along your thigh, still trapped inside of his jeans and rapidly hardening from the state of the conversation. 
“Look, I’m sorry-” 
“If you say ‘sorry’, one more time, I’m gonna spank you so fucking hard that you won’t be able to sit down for a week.” You threatened, your voice low and dark. 
He let out a whimper at this, and you weren’t entirely sure if the idea appealed to him or sounded like a true threat. He didn’t tempt you by speaking up again, so you continued. 
“Enough with the sorries.” You told him sharply. “How many times did you jack off to this picture without telling me? How often did you look at it, touching your hard, needy dick and thinking about what my cunt might feel like? Huh? Tell me, baby.” 
Mike jutted his hips again, grinding his hard cock against your thigh. 
“Please-” He croaked out. 
Clearly, he was begging for you to release him from the conversation, and to attend to his aching dick. But you didn’t have plans to do either. 
“If you want me to touch you again anytime soon, you’re going to get off against my thigh.” You demanded harshly. “Or you’re not going to get off at all.” 
Mike let out a pathetic, warbling whine in protest, sounding a lot like a kicked puppy. But still, he began to move more consistently against your leg - you stiffened your muscles on purpose and raised your thigh tighter against him, pushing your leg further into his crotch. This movement forced a puff of air from his lungs as you put more pressure on his hard cock. 
“And you’re going to answer my questions.” You added on, reaching behind him and grabbing his hair like you had earlier that day, knowing that a tight tug on his roots would certainly make him more pliant. 
“Ah! O-okay!” He shouted in return, and you hushed him gently. 
“When were you gonna tell me that you’re a dirty little pervert?” You asked, a mocking laughter dancing in your voice. 
Mike started up a rhythm as he fucked himself on your thigh. He whined in the back of his throat, his brow creasing - partially from the heat stirring in his gut and partially from the embarrassment of your interrogation - before he managed an answer. 
“I - I wasn’t.” He answered honestly. 
“How many other secret pervy pictures do you have of me?” You asked. 
“N-none!” He was quick to respond, eager to clear himself of this guilt. 
He definitely wasn’t going to tell you about the pair of your panties that he had stolen the first time he was over at your place. He also wasn’t going to mention the fact that he had snooped in your bathroom to see what brand of shampoo you used and bought the same one just so he could have your scent on tap. He didn’t need you thinking that he was totally pathetic.  
“Don’t lie to me!” You demanded, giving a sharp tug on his hair. 
“‘m not! I’m not! That’s the only one!” He slurred out, becoming more hazy and pleasure drunk as he ground himself harder into your thigh and his cock leaked into his underwear. His brain was absolutely fuzzy from the streaks of pain coming off his scalp when you pulled on his hair like that. 
“How many times have you jerked off to the picture?” You asked. 
More than once a week since he had taken it. It was his favorite guilty pleasure. 
Earlier that day, he hadn’t even meant to take out the photo and jerk off to it. He had been more than satisfied with everything that happened the night before. But when he had opened his nightstand looking for his watch to put it on for the day, and the photo fell from its place stuck underneath the drawer (a perfect hiding place, in his mind). And just like when he had taken the photo, as soon as he saw you so perfectly posed there, he just couldn’t help himself. The sight of your panties sticking out from under your dress just got to him. 
His cock was hard in seconds and next thing he knew, he was sitting there pumping his cock in one hand and holding the picture in the other, listening for the sound of the shower running and hoping he would finish before you did. 
Something about you was so absolutely intoxicating to him, sent his brain back to caveman levels of hormonal and caused him to make the stupidest dick-driven decisions ever. 
“Mommy,” He begged quietly. “Mommy, please.” 
Your stomach clenched - it was a name he used in an attempt to soften you up, trying to make you pliant to his big eyes and whimpering breaths. 
He grabbed both of your hips and tried shoving his face into your neck to hide himself as his hips stuttered against your leg, humping hopelessly like a needy puppy. You yanked him back by the hair before he could fully hide himself and he exhaled in a needy, simpering tone, deflating like a balloon as his shoulders sagged. For a moment, he stopped the movement of his hips altogether - as if expecting you to take over in some way and make him cum. 
“Mommy is only sweet to good boys.” You whispered in his ear. “Mommy punishes dirty little bad boys who can’t take their head out of their dick long enough to behave.” 
He squeezed out a hot breath, seemingly deflating more. You used your free hand to grab his hip, and began guiding him to hump along your thigh once again. 
“Come on, baby.” You encouraged him. “If you don’t cum like this, you don’t get to come for a week.” You gave a gentle warning. “Are you gonna be a good boy? Or are you a stupid little perv? Hmm?” 
The harsh degradation behind your words, the motivation for him to be seen as a good boy in your eyes - that truly got him going again. 
“I’m a good boy.” He said quietly, fucking himself against you, moaning quietly as the friction caused sharp tingles against his cock. “I’m - I’m a good boy.” 
“Show me.” You told him firmly. “Show me what a good boy does.” 
“Please,” He breathed out. “Fuck, Mommy. Please!” 
You knew that he needed more, and you did pity him to an extent - so you gave another tug on his hair and slipped your other hand under the back of his shirt, raking your nails across his back, making claw marks that you knew he loved. The stinging feeling of your nails biting into his skin causing pure sparks that sent heat straight between his thighs. When you leaned in and sharply bit his neck, that truly sent him over the edge, causing him to lose all sense of rhythm and having him bucking wildly, mindlessly against your thigh as he flooded the inside of his underwear with cum. 
“Fuck! Y/N!” He shouted. 
“Shut up!” You bit back. 
You stood back up to your full height, shoving your fingers between his lips to gag him. You knew that you had to be mindful of his volume when she was so deep in it, so absolutely lost in the pleasurable haze that he didn’t care how loud he was being. 
He rode out his orgasm gagging slightly with your fingers pressed against his tongue, his eyes tightly screwed shut, a light sweat gathered on his brow as he continued to hump against your leg, carrying himself through it. 
After a few moments, Mike’s rattling moans turned into harsh, open-mouthed pants around your fingers as he caught his breath, and you eased your fingers out of his mouth, enjoying the thread of spit that came off his lips far too much. 
When he collapsed his head onto your shoulder this time, you let him. 
“You’re - you’re not really mad about the picture, are you?” He asked, gently huffing the words into your shirt as he struggled to catch his breath. “Because if-” 
“I’m not mad about it.” You clarified, moving your hand from under his shirt to pet through his hair calmly, wanting to reassure him of this. “In fact, I think it’s pretty hot.” 
“Really?” He asked, his gaze shooting up to inspect your expression, almost not believing your words. Even though you were always very honest and transparent when communicating your feelings to him. 
“Yes.” You answered honestly. “I think it’s hot that you found me so attractive from the moment we met.” 
“‘Attractive’ is a bit of an understatement.” He mumbled quietly in response. 
Interesting.
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tenpintsof-sundrop · 6 months
Note
Vanessa x sub gn reader? something with handcuffs please 🙏
FULL FIC NOW POSTED!!!
okay so I know I was supposed to be working on This Request - but I got sidetracked. and I had an idea in my head that I really wanted to write, and this request worked well with that idea, so I am now working on an entirely different fic. but it's still a Vanessa fic, so I think it still counts!
anyway, here's a quick preview of the fic (which I am really excited about)
Damn The Man, Save The Empire - (Dark)Vanessa Shelly x GN!Reader (Preview)
(I think the only warnings for this are Vanessa and the reader having a toxic co-dependent dynamic, Vanessa being generally dark and kind of mentally unstable, the power imbalance in a relationship that comes with one of them being a police officer, Vanessa's general daddy issues, and I think that's it?)
...
“How is dear old daddy, by the way?” You asked, picking at the raw nerve out of spite. “Has he missed me at family dinners?” 
“Shut up!” Vanessa barked. Then after a heavy moment, she let out another quiet, mousy sentence. “I haven’t seen him in years. You know that.” 
“Oh, but your bank account says otherwise.” You replied. “The new apartment is so nice. I know you’re not bankrolling all that on a cop’s salary. What kind of dirty work does he have you doing these days?” 
Vanessa’s silence was painfully knowledgeable. 
He had sucked her back in somehow. 
“I knew that you always had a soft spot for him.” You sighed. “You probably wish he had gotten rid of me all those years ago.” You mumbled quietly. “It’s not like you ever actually cared about me.” 
Of course, you were feeling hurt by her putting you in handcuffs, threatening to turn you in, something that felt like the ultimate betrayal - so the words slipped out. 
You were shocked when Vanessa slammed on the breaks and the car came to a screeching halt - and if not for your instincts (even while slightly inebriated) to put your foot against the cage, keeping yourself from smacking forward, then you likely would have had the harsh shape of that mesh imprinted on your cheek. 
“I never cared about you?” Vanessa asked, her voice filled with an intense, dark rage. 
You caught her eye in the rearview mirror, and save for the tears dancing on her waterline - she had a look almost identical to that same crazed look her father had worn all those years ago. You almost would have mocked her for it if you didn’t feel your stomach clenching up with fear. 
“I never cared about you?” She repeated, so utterly insulted by what you had said that she could feel her reality tearing apart - she almost could believe that you had said it. 
“Vanessa-” You choked out, calling her by her full name for the first time in so long, but before you could beg for mercy or apologize, she abruptly cut you off. 
“No.” She said. “Shut up.” 
The pure force of her voice sent chills through you, and this time you couldn’t help but to comply. 
You sat in a dizzying silence as she slammed on the gas pedal again, and the car went speeding off - she seemed very determined with where she was going, and after a minute or two, where you were becoming increasingly light-headed from your worry, Vanessa whipped the cruiser into an empty lot - a random patch of dirt that looked like it was on the back end of a place used to keep scrap cars. It was dark and secluded. Nobody would find you here. 
108 notes · View notes
crazyk-imagine · 5 months
Text
Take Care of You while you're Sleeping
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Pairing: Michael Schmidt x Childhood friend!reader
Characters: Michael Schmidt, Childhood friend!reader, Abby Schmidt, Janet Schmidt, Steve Raglan (William Afton), Vanessa, Freddy, Chica, Foxy, Bonnie, Max, Doug the lawyer (not mentioned)
Warnings: Angst, fluff, slow burn, classic fnaf movie things, things get interesting, bits of the movie, Afton is a psycho, Mike and reader need to get their shit together, the lawyer isn't mentioned but he's an icon in my eyes, no one wants to deal with the aunt, Max is conflicted, and her death isn't mentioned, mentions of past traumas
Word Count: 8,860
*if you're not a good cook, pretend
This idea would not leave my mind for a long ass time guys.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You wait in the hallway waiting till he finishes talking to his job counselor.
Since you were a kid and it- you've never been good at waiting for too long.
Part of you wants to text him and ask if he's almost done but you can’t do that and ruin his chance to keep Abby.
You bite the skin on the side of your thumb, foot bouncing as the clock ticking a few feet away goes in one ear and out the other. You drop your hand at the slight painful sensation that comes from where you were biting.
You glance down and see the small spot of red, rubbing the area to get rid of it. You close your eyes, bending forward with your head down and your hands on your knees to keep you upright.
The door opens.
Your head snaps over in his direction.
He looks even more worn out than before.
He briefly holds eye contact with you and gestures for the two of you to go.
You stand up before he passes you, you glance over his shoulder and find the counselor, standing there with a cup of coffee.
His stare sends a shiver down your spine.
You lower your head, spin around and follow Michael, who was waiting by the door for you.
-
You don’t want to upset him by asking but if you don’t, who knows when he'll tell you what happened.
Another red light and you’re still debating on asking.
"Was it helpful?"
"No."
"There's nothing out there?"
"No," he sighs. "There was- he had a job, but the hours aren't good. It's a night job."
"Oh."
He sighs, "yeah."
"Maybe I can see if we have an opening?" You offer.
He shakes his head. "No. It's- it's fine. I’ll figure out something."
"Mike-"
"I don't want to start this again."
"I just want to help you. I know how much it means for you to have this job."
"I'll figure it out."
You reach over and squeeze his hand, offering a small smile. "I know you’ll figure it out. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do it alone. It's not all on you." You open the car door. "Thanks for the ride again."
He watches as you walk into your work, always making sure you're exactly where you should be.
-
You walk through the door with dinner. "Hey." You greet Max, giving her a small portion of what Michael owes her.
She shakes her head, denying the money.
"You've been helping him out for so long now, please take it. He doesn't need to keep worrying about this," you whispered to her.
She glances down at the thin wad of cash in your hands; she closes her eyes, thinking about the Schmidt’s aunt and their deal. “Thank you,” Max whispers.
She’s going to pay you back and then some.
“I brought dinner.”
“We were just about to eat,” he tells you, standing in the kitchen.
“Not anything edible,” Abby mutters.
Her brother sighs.
You smile at her while setting the bags on the counter. “Scoot, I got it.”
“I’m gonna have to learn how to cook at some point.”
“Not tonight, I’m excited. Scoot.” You push him out of your way, amusing the young girl at the table.
She continues working on her recent drawing, one with you in it, of course.
-
“I think I’m going to take it.”
You turn away from the TV to look at him. “Take what?”
"The job."
"The night one? I thought didn't want that one?" He shrugs, glancing at the wall. "It's better than nothing. I'll still be able to fight my aunt with this job."
"I understand why you're doing this but are you sure you can handle it?"
He glances at you with furrowed brows. "What do you mean?"
You tilt your head, staring at him with sad eyes.
"I worry about you enough with your shitty sleep schedule now. This is just going to send me into old age."
"Who says you aren't already?"
You scoff, shoving his shoulder. "Don't be a dick." You cover your mouth, hiding your yawn. "I'm gonna clean the dishes and then crash on your couch."
He pushes himself off the couch, following you. "I can do that. You should start getting ready for bed."
You take the other dishes from him. "Mike, stop. Go to bed. I've got this and you," you boop his nose causing him to scrunch his face in confusion. "Need to go to bed. Start preparing for work. This is the least I can do for the number of times you've let me stay here… and the car rides."
"You know I don't mind doing it."
You sigh, placing your hands on his shoulders. "I know but this is the only way I can show how much I appreciate it." You wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly. "Stop stalling and go to bed."
"Yes, ma'am."
You shake your head. "I'll see you in the morning. Why don't you sleep in, and I'll take Abbs?"
"I don't know."
"We got this. If you're not up. I'm taking her."
"Okay."
-
He's out cold when you open the door to check on him.
You shake your head, walking down the short hallway. "He's out. Looks like I'll be taking you, sweet pea."
"Are you and my brother dating?"
"Has my answer changed since the last time you asked me?" You ask, setting her plate in front of her.
She shakes her head, "no."
"And what do you think now?"
"Yes?"
"Abby-"
She groans. "Come on, you two are like perfect for each other. He really likes you; you know."
"I would like to think so, otherwise our friendship is a lie."
"No," she shakes her head. "He really likes you."
"Where'd you hear that?" "
I asked him."
"You did?" You raise a brow.
"No, but I know these things."
"You've never had a boyfriend; how would you know?"
"My friends."
-
You went to work and came back just in time for the brother and sister duo to walk through the door, keeping you on the phone.
"What happened?"
They both shrug, neither wanting to give you an answer.
"Max isn't answering," he says through the phone.
"Did you try her again?"
"I've been trying all day."
You sigh. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm just- I'm a little stressed right now."
"Do you want me to watch her?"
"No, it's fine."
"Mike, I can watch her. It's no problem."
“No, no. I- what if you come with us? You can watch her there.”
“Wouldn’t it be smarter if I watched her at your place?”
“I- I don’t want you two to be alone.”
You sigh, “Mike, nothing will happen. You know I’ll do whatever I can for her.”
“I know but maybe it’ll be better if you two get out of the house in- instead of being all cooped up, right?”
You know you’re not going to win with him. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in a few.”
He shakes his head, although you can’t see it. “No, we can come get you. Your house is on the way.”
It is, in fact, not on the way there but he doesn’t want you walking in the cold. “Okay, call me when you’re about to leave.”
“We’ll be there soon.”
“Okay. Bye, Mikey.” You groan as soon as the call ends. “Mikey. Seriously?"
Abby notices her brothers’ flushed cheeks. "Did you finally ask her out?"
He turns to her with furrowed brows. "Wh- what? No. Why would you ask that?"
She shrugs and searches through the drawers, needing something for her drawings.
He walks down the hallway and enters his room, searching for his work clothes.
-
You walk through the door (even after he told you not to walk to their house) and see the previously jammed drawer fall onto the floor.
You slam the door shut and rush to her. "Oh my god." You grab her by her shoulders, checking her over. "Are you okay?"
She nods before trying to clean up.
You help her until your eyes stop on the yellow paper.
Michael rushes out of his room. "What happened? Are you okay?"
"I made a mess," she mumbles. "I'm sorry."
You stare at him with raised brows, waiting for him to explain himself to her (and you).
He's been working too hard to give her up to someone you know doesn't care about her or her well-being.
He tries his best to explain to her that it's not what she thinks.
Abby gets upset and runs to her room.
You clean up the mess and jam the drawer back into its place. "Are you serious, Mike?"
"What?"
"You've worked so hard to keep her in your life and you have the other, terrible option might I add, within reach for her to find!?"
"It's not like that."
"Then tell me because sometimes I don't know what's going on in your head no matter how hard I try to figure it out." You take a deep breath. "Just- tell me you're not really thinking about this?"
"I- I'm not. It's just- my aunt is really pushing this and-"
"If she's giving you guys problems. Tell me, I might be able to figure out something to help, okay?"
"Okay," he rushes out, sounding annoyed.
"I'm sorry for this, Mike. I am but believe me when I say that this is not the way to do things."
"Did you-"
"I'm gonna go check on her. You need to figure things out." You brush past him, shoulder knocking into his chest.
You softly knock on the door. "Abbs?" You turn the handle and walk in. "Are you okay?"
She sits in her chair unable to color.
"Sweetie, you can tell me." You sit on her bed. "You know, when I was a younger, my parents did the same thing, but they didn't get far."
"They did?"
You nod.
"Why?"
"Something happened when I was a kid and I just," you wipe your hands on your knees. "I don't like to talk about it often. How about we go make cupcakes before we go to work with your brother?"
"We're going with him?" She asks as you open the door.
You nod. "Yeah, he doesn't want you to be here alone and since I'm the only one nice enough to talk to him, he doesn't want us to be alone while he's out."
"That makes sense."
"Does it? I think he just likes to be in control just a little too much."
She giggles and grabs your hand, pulling you down the short hallway.
You narrow your eyes at him as he sits at the table, slumped in the chair.
You know your look made him feel worse, but you don't care, putting that someplace where she could find it so, she can up with the worse scenarios is a horrible thing for a child to go through… other than- Abby calls out for you.
You blink once and hum. "Any requests?"
Neither of the Schmidt siblings answers you as they glance at one another, curious as to what just happened.
Dinner was more silent than normal, but it wasn't completely unbearable.
It was kind of, therapeutic. Then it was time to go.
“Alright, grab your stuff. We won’t be there long and we’ll be back soon.”
-
A child’s whisper calling out for Abby alerts you, even more so when two children’s voices call out yours.
You’re scared to open your eyes, reminding you of the one time you asked your parents to check your room for monsters when you heard something coming from your closet. You pull the blanket closer, having it act as a barrier.
You take a deep breath and focus on the light coming from Abby’s fort, thinking back to when- she softly shakes your arm, whispering your name. “Yeah, Abbs?”
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
You nod, tossing the blanket off you, holding your hand out for her to take. “Let’s go.”
-
You walk through the vaguely familiar hallways and stop at the bathroom.
“Do you want me to come in with you?”
She shakes her head, “I’ll be fine.”
You nod and watch as she goes in, keeping an eye on her until the door closes.
You turn and nearly jump out of your skin when you see the stage curtain moving.
Your eyes wander around the stage while you silently think a little hail Mary… and for Abby to hurry.
“All done.”
“Great, let’s go back before your brother realizes you’re gone.”
“But there’s someone else here.” She walks towards the stage and you chase after her.
“Abby, you need to stop running-”
Your jaw drops and you can’t speak anymore once you see the glowing red eyes staring back at you.
They walk down and huddle around the two of you.
You wrap your around her, pulling the girl closer to you not knowing how to protect her or get her out of this situation safely.
“I don’t think they want to hurt us.”
“And how would you know that?”
“They’re my friends.” She pushes your arms off her and greets them, they start tickling her, easing a small portion of your fears and concerns.
Then the fox and chick animatronic start tickling you and you two are giggling your heads off.
This was definitely not what he was expecting when he heard you two screaming from the security office.
All he sees are the large animatronics which trigger his fight or flight mode. He raises the chair higher at the sight of Freddy, who glares at him in return.
“Guys, this is my brother Mike.” Abby smiles, introducing everyone to each other. “Mike, these are my friends.”
His eyes wander around the room, checking over everyone to make sure everything is okay before he starts searching for you.
He slowly calms down at the sight of your head when you turn around. All he sees is the big smile on your guys faces and slowly, places the chair back where he found it.
He doesn’t know what else to do and grabs the two of you before anything else can happen.
The little girl breaks free and places a drawing in the bear's hand.
“They like drawings,” she explains to her brother.
“Bye guys. We’ll be back soon.” She waves and the two who seem to have taken a liking to you, wave more excitedly to you.
-
You wave back before her brother grabs your hand and pulls you two back to the security office to grab all your stuff.
"Abby, get in the car."
She settles into the back but not you, he pulls you back to talk to you.
"What was that?"
After making sure she was all settled in, you turn to him. "What do you mean?"
"You just let her get too close to those- those things. What if she had gotten hurt?"
"Don't do that to me. You're the one that wouldn't let me watch her at home, Mike. You brought us here."
He wants to apologize because he knows he's upset and taking it out on you which isn’t fair.
You get in the car, careful not to slam the door (no matter how hard you want to) because you don’t want to disturb the sleepy girl.
He walks back to the car with his head down, knowing he royally screwed up.
You don't try and talk to him like you normally do and keep your gaze on everything around you.
-
As soon as the car is put in park, you get out and grab all the bags.
He sighs, watching you basically run into the house and checks on Abby.
You get started on making breakfast because you're hungry and know the other two will be as soon as they smell it.
The moment the last plate touched the table, the Schmidt siblings are out of their rooms and sneaking towards the kitchen.
You gesture for them to sit down so they can get started.
The clinking of your utensils hitting the plates is the only noise echoing throughout the kitchen. Abby finishes and runs back to her room to draw more.
You start cleaning up, leaving the man in silence.
"I'm sorry."
You don't acknowledge his apology and continue cleaning up.
"I know what I said was wrong and I shouldn't have taken it out on you, but you know, she could have gotten hurt."
You glance at him over your shoulder and nod. "I know that, and I wouldn't have let anything happen to her. You know that and that's why I'm hurt."
The chair scooting across the floor alerts you.
His presence calms you even with how angry you are. He leans closer, "I know but I was- I was scared I was going to lose-"
"Abby like you did, Garrett, I know," you whisper, letting the tears trickle down your face.
"It's not just that. I mean, yeah it was mainly that, but I was also scared I was going to lose you too."
You wipe your cheeks.
His hand inches towards you.
You spin around and throw yourself into his arms, he takes a step back before balancing himself. "You're an idiot," you mumble.
The vibrations coming from his chest as he chuckles send a shiver down your spine and you pull yourself away from him.
He stays where he is, barely a foot away from you, studying you. He reaches forward, wiping your cheeks. "Better?"
You roll your eyes and return to the dishes.
He wraps an arm around your waist, leaning against you. "I'm gonna go check on Abby before I go to my room."
You nod.
"Do you need a ride to work?"
"No, it's fine. I don't have another shift for a few days."
"Okay, let me know if you do."
"I will."
He hesitates to leave or hesitates to peck your cheek.
You stand still, not entirely sure what just happened. 'Did he just-' you think to yourself. Now you're starting to question some things but don't dwell on it.
-
You sit down, relaxing on the couch, waiting for your tiredness to hit.
Your head droops every so often, waking you up each time it happens; eventually you change positions and try to go to sleep.
You open your eyes and find yourself… back there. You look around, searching for someone, anyone to help you.
Children giggling, the video games near you buzzing and beeping; you spin around when a breeze passes you. “Hey.”
The kid in orange stops looking over his shoulder.
Flashes of him and the fox animatronic flash through your mind.
You whine, falling to the ground as you hold your head.
“Are you okay?” A child’s voice manages to come through all the noise.
Your hands slide down your face as you lift your head to search where the voice is coming from. Your eyes widen, you know her. “Who-”
“Why are you sad?”
“I- I don’t know.”
“Did you not have fun?” You blink once, processing her question.
“What?”
She pouts. “Did you not have fun earlier?”
You push yourself off the ground. “What do you mean? I- I’ve never- I-” She starts walking away.
“I have to go now. The yellow rabbit’s back.”
You follow her, fighting to get through the crowd.
You reach for her, just a few inches shy of grabbing her. You push yourself back, ready to apologize for the person you bumped into.
They turn around, smiling.
“There you are, I thought you were going to the restroom?”
Your jaw drops. “Mom?”
“Come on,” she grabs your wrist. “We’re about to miss them cutting the cake.”
“Wha-”
“You and Susie were so excited for Fritz’s party. I’m surprised you forgot about the cake.”
You furrow your brows, unsure of anything that’s happening. “We missed you.”
You wake up, eyes blurred after not being open for a bit. Abby sits in front of the couch, drawing yet again. “Abbs?”
“Yeah?”
-
“Was last night real?”
She nods.
“Are you sure?”
Even though she confirmed your thoughts, it still doesn’t feel real.
Her brother wakes up to find the two of you quietly drawing and smiles at the sight, seeing you two together always made his heartbeat faster… or maybe it was you?
He tilts his head, furrowing his brows thinking back to when he quickly pecked your cheek. He hopes neither of you look over, otherwise you’ll see his flushed cheeks and he doesn’t want to have to lie about the real reason.
Maybe that’s why he was terrified for both you and Abby last night.
He wonders how long he’s been feeling this way, was it before Garrett?
Is that why he’d always invite you over and not just because you always found ways to include his brother?
Maybe when he's done with his shift and he’s saved up a little bit more he can take you out on a date, a proper one.
He shakes his head; he's getting too ahead of himself.
Why would you ever want to date him? He's not worthy of dating, you.
"Are going to come with us tonight?"
You slowly turn your head in her direction, "what do you mean?"
"Max still isn't answering so I'm going with Mike. Can you come with us? My friends really like you."
"The- they do?"
She nods, "they say you're nice and remind them of someone they used to know."
"Oh." You sit up straighter, looking over her head to catch her brother's eye.
He tilts his head, not knowing what she told you.
You push yourself off the ground and briskly walk towards him, pulling him closer towards the fridge so, the little girl doesn't see you whisper shout at her brother. "What are you doing?"
He doesn't pull his arm out of your grasp.
Is this what it means to be touch starved?
"What do you mean?"
"You're taking her again? What happened to you being pissed because I let her get too close to them?"
A sad sigh escaped through his nose. "Her friends might know who took Garrett."
You owlishly blink, wondering how your friend can be so caring but such a dumbass. You pinch the bridge of your nose. "Seriously?"
"What? You know I always try to think back to see if I can remember anything but I- it's never enough."
Your head snaps up. "Mike, listen to me, please. Don't get upset when I tell you this."
"What?"
"You need to stop. Focusing on the past it’s not good for you or," you gesture to the little girl in the living room. "Her, she is your present, okay. She should be your priority because she is still here," your voice cracks. You're doing all you can to hold back your tears. "You need to let him go."
He takes a step back, staring at you with an angered expression.
You know it wasn't your place to tell him this but no one else is. "I'll go after tonight. Let me spend one more night with her and I'll be out of your guy's hair when we get back, okay?"
"Honestly, I don't know if I should after hearing that."
You sigh, "Mike." You don’t want to beg, it'd be pointless but if you can cause a little less heartbreak, maybe it'd be worth it. "I know right now you probably hate me, but you also know that I wouldn't say anything without a reason."
You walk back into the living room when she shows a drawing of you and two other kids. "Abby?" Your voice wavers, "where did you find this?"
"I drew it. Do you not like it?"
You furrow your brows and stare at the page. "You didn’t take this?"
She scoffs, "no."
"I- I'm sorry, Abbs. I believe you-"
She shakes her head and grabs her belongings before stomping to her room.
"What's wrong with the picture?" Michael asks.
You bury your head in your hands. "Nothing."
"Well, clearly, it's not nothing."
You lift your head, using the sleeves of your crewneck to wipe your cheeks. "Do you remember when I wasn't in school for a while?"
His brows knit together as he tries to think back.
"It was a little bit before Garrett was taken," you whisper. "I- um- I think I used to go to Freddy's after school with a couple of our neighbors, but I don't remember anything after that."
“What are you trying to say?”
“Something happened when I was a kid, and I haven’t been able to get over it. That’s why I’m so freaked out. I remember drawing this but anything else after that is lost on me.”
“I didn’t know.”
“I barely remember and now I’m freaking out.”
He sits beside you pulling you in for a hug.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper.
“Don’t- don't apologize about it.” Now he feels horrible.
Abby listened to your conversation from the crack she left open in the door and knows they gotta do something to make you happy.
-
“Are you sure you want to come with us? I mean, you don’t have to,” he tells you.
You grab your bag and nod, “I got this. It’ll be fine.” You look out the door, seeing the girl in the back of his car. "And, then I'll be out of your hair."
"Don't- don't worry about it. I forgot what you said."
"Mike."
"Let's go. I don't want either of you to be alone."
-
You exited the bathroom and found Vanessa talking to Michael.
You don't know whether to walk over to them or join Abby.
The choice is made for you when the little girl and the animatronics gesture for you to come over.
You glance over at the two, your chest hurts temporarily as you think there might be something going on between the two but realize that you're not here to watch them moon over each other, you're here for Abby.
You wander closer towards them, hopping on the stage with the gang.
They start singing and you hold your hand out for Abby to take, spinning her around and she gets a brilliant idea.
-
The fort was finished and you all crawl underneath. "I think it's going to rain soon."
"Looks like we're gonna need a roof. I know where they keep the blankets when we had parties."
Michael pushes himself off the ground, "I'll come with you." He turns around to whisper to Abby, who assures him that she'll get the info he wants.
He perks over at you, wondering if he should really follow her or not. He has to talk to her and knows you'll look after his sister.
You close your eyes to try and get your mind off wondering if he and Vanessa are going to get together. You can hear their voices, but they slowly become quieter and quieter as time goes on.
-
You wake and find yourself in the ball pit. This is not where you-
"Hello?" You whisper.
It's not the smartest thing to do but you did it anyway.
You crawl out of the pit only to find no one else around.
"Great, they left me and now I'm here alone." You sigh and wander around, hoping to find someone.
Children's laughter passes by you.
You spin around, searching for the kids and find no one. "Just find a way out and you'll be fine."
The tapping on your back alarms you.
You spin around once more to find a child with a hook and red hair. You furrow your brows. "Are you here alone?"
He shakes his head, another child, a blonde little girl comes out of nowhere.
"Are you- are you two-" You cover one eye and make a hook with the other.
They nod.
"Oh, so you're- you're kids."
"We're your friends."
"What?"
-
You open your eyes and find Abby staring down at you.
"They're going to perform for us."
"They are?" She nods excitedly and continues to pull you up, off the ground.
Michael and Vanessa returned but neither of you noticed.
She notices the look he has whenever he’s near you or talks to you. “When are you going to tell her?”
He turns back to the blonde. “What are you talking about?”
“You're in love with her.”
He scoffs, shaking his head. “What are you talking about?”
“You're in love and you haven't told her, why?”
He opens his mouth to reply but falls short.
“What are you scared of?”
“I- nothing.”
She turns to check on you two, her teasing expression falls.
You heard her voice and glanced back at the girl, who's close to touching Bonnie's guitar. You were already holding her other hand and reached out to stop her but are too late.
The two of you fall backwards onto the stage, passing out for a few moments.
Abby is the first to wake, asking what happened.
Vanessa holds her, calming her, glaring at the girl's brother.
You slowly open your eyes, and his face is the first one you see. Your brows knit together, trying to figure out what happened.
“Hey, hey,” he calls out to you, holding your head. “Are you okay?”
You groan, closing your eyes trying to not think of the pain. “No.”
He huffs, lowering his head, thankful that you haven't lost your sense of sarcasm. 'Thank god,' he thinks to himself.
He doesn't know what he would have done if anything had happened to you, either of you. He can't lose anyone else in his life.
The three of you leave earlier that night, much like when you all discovered the animatronics secrets.
-
You sit in the car, staring at the house. “You can’t let her go back there, Mike.”
He looks away from her and checks you out, silently hoping nothing has happened to you physically. “I know. She won’t.”
“Take care of her, okay.” You open the door, and he grabs your arm, keeping you inside the vehicle.
“Don’t.”
You hesitantly settle back into the seat. “I told you all I wanted was one last night.”
“You’re not leaving. I- we can’t lose you. I don’t know what I’d do if we never saw you again.”
“Even after everything I said?”
He pauses before responding, “I’m not focusing on that.”
“That was the reason you were so upset,” you hissed at him, being wary of your volume with the sleeping girl in the back. “I don’t want to step on any more toes, okay?”
“You’re not… as long as you promise not to leave.”
The corners of your lips twitch. “I won’t but I do have to go home and get ready for work.”
He shakes his head, “you don’t need to. I have some of your things. You can get ready here.”
“I am perfectly capable of being on my own.”
“I know you are but I’m more concerned about you especially with everything that happened.”
“I'm fine but if it means so much to you for me to be here then I'll stay but once I'm done with my shift, I'm going home, okay? I need to grab a few things and maybe do some laundry while I'm at it.” You chuckle, wanting to give him a piece of mind.
He nods, “deal.”
You get out of the car, grabbing everyone's bags so he could put Abby to bed, giving you a sense of deja vu.
Once he's got her tucked into bed, he ventures down the hallway, checking in you… again. “Showers free, if you want it.”
You look up from the dining chair, giving him a tired smile in return. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I just got to make a phone call and then I'll head to my room.”
You nod, rubbing your eyes. “Okay.”
His heart tugs at an unusual feeling, one he never thought he'd get the privilege of having.
He doesn't stop watching until the bathroom door closes and now, he hesitates to make the call.
He doesn't want to prove her right but this just- it can't happen again. And it won't, if his aunt takes care of Abby. He can't imagine the face you're going to give him when you see her.
The water turns on and he waits for a bit until he knows it's safe to make the call.
You exit the bathroom, securing the t-shirt on your head.
“Hey,” his eyes are drawn to your head. “Is that my shirt?”
You shrug, “I don't know, maybe.”
“Okay, anyway. Don't get mad.”
Your head jerks back. “Why would I get mad?”
“I called her.”
“Call who?”
“My aunt.”
You’re face turns sour as soon as your mind processed what he said. “You're getting my foot so far up your ass, you won't know which end was what.”
“Hey, hey,” he grabs your arms. “It's for her safety.”
“That doesn’t make this easier.”
“I know it doesn't but it's the smart choice… right?”
You're at a stalemate, no matter what answer you give him, it's not going to give him the peace of mind he's looking for. “Do you think it was a smart idea?” You finally ask.
“It's better for Abby.”
“And what about you?”
“Abby is more important.”
“You both deserve to be happy.” You check on the clock, “it's almost time for me to go so I'm going to finish getting ready and I'll be out of your hair for the day. I won't be able to babysit her tonight.”
He nods, “I kinda figured which is also why I called our aunt.”
“If you two can talk and figure out a good solution that won't make her feel like she's being taken and sent to your guy's aunt, I'm right behind you.”
He nods, “thank you.”
You walk out of the bathroom searching for Michael before grabbing your bag. “Mike?”
He's not in the kitchen so you move over to the living room and then his room.
You peek in the crack of his door, finding him lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling.
You enter, closing the door behind you, not wanting to wake up Abby. “I'm gonna go now.”
He nods lazily.
“Are you gonna be, okay?”
“Yeah,” his voice comes out deep, you know he's on the verge of passing out.
“Okay, I'll see you guys tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? I thought you were coming back tonight?”
“My shift ends just as you're halfway to Freddy's. I don't want to come in and scare Abby.”
“Okay, call me when you get there?”
“I'll do you one better.” You sit on the edge of his bed, hand near his. “I'll text you on the phone you like to forget you have.”
“I don't forget I have it.”
“You do.”
“Whatever,” he chuckles. “I'll see you later.”
You exit his room, leaving it open a little (in case Abby needs him he told you once).
“Wait.”
You try to ask him if you forgot anything when his warm hand cups your cheek. “Mikey?”
He leans in, your noses are touching. “Tell me if this is a bad idea and I'll back away,” he whispers, staring into your eyes.
“It's not.”
His eyes drift down to yours.
You can't take it anymore and go for it.
His surprised squeak makes you smile. He leans in when you pull away.
“I've really got to go.”
“I know.”
“You need to let me go so I can go to work.”
He opens his eyes and stares at the ground. “Sorry.”
“Don't be. I didn't back away.”
“I- uh-”
“What is it?”
“I like it when you,” he clears his throat. “I like it when you call me Mikey. No one else does.”
The corner of your lips twitch, curving upwards. “Good to know.” You bunch the front of his shirt in your hand and kiss him once more before leaving.
You shake your head, smiling from ear to ear while ignoring the heat from your cheeks.
Work wasn’t anything more than what you expected which was nice, better with what you’d been dealing with the last few days.
-
You collapse into the chair you have in your living room, trying not to fall asleep only to wind up taking a nap.
The sound of knocking alarms you, you jolt awake trying to make sense of your surroundings.
You open the door, only to find the one person you least expected to find here. "Mr. Raglan?"
He lifts his head and smiles. "Hi, you’re Michael's friend, right?"
You nod, "I am. What's this about?"
"Can I come in?"
Your mind tells you not to let him in, you get an unsettling feeling from him. "Actually, I need to get ready for work so, if you could just-"
His hand clamps around the door as you try to close it on him. "Actually," he slams the door shut behind him. "That's not going to happen. You see, I was trying to be nice and let you come with me but then you started thinking again, just like you did when you were a kid. And now, now I'm going to kill you."
Your eyes widen, heart beating about a hundred miles an hour.
"But not yet, of course because we," he grabs your wrist and pulls you closer before you can run away. "Have a show to put on." His eyes are emotionless the more you look into them. "Nighty night."
-
You fight to open your eyes; the loud mechanical stomping hurts your ears; you whine covering them.
You're pulled away and fight the hands holding you.
She shushes you, “shut up. Shut up.” Vanessa rips your hands away from your ears, holding your head to make you focus on her. “You need to get Abby and Mike and get them out of here. Do you understand?”
“I can’t- I can’t-” You start hyperventilating.
She shakes your shoulders, trying to get you out of it. “You need to get them out of here.”
You nod. “Where are they?” You sniff, wiping your cheeks.
“Mike went to grab Abby; they should be getting back here now.”
She pulls you up, the two of you stay close to the walls as you search for them.
Abby runs out, you grab her before she could expose herself to the animatronics.
You glance back, looking for the blonde and find no one around. “Where’s your brother?”
“Back there. He fought the cupcake.”
The loud stomping sends a shiver down your spine.
“Abbs, we need to hide.”
“Where?”
You turn your head, looking around. “Ball pit.” You grab her and carry her. “Stay here.”
Her fingernails dig into your hand. “Where are you going?”
“Stay here. I’m- I’m going to be right here. If they catch me, you run.”
She shakes her head, “I can’t.”
“Abby,” you hold her head in your hands. “I need you to be strong for me.”
She stares at you with teary eyes. “Okay.”
“Good girl,” you peck her head and hide.
Foxy's footsteps alarm you.
You frantically search for something to throw that can distract him. You slowly sink down, praying your knees don't crack as you do.
You grab the lonely ball pit ball left on the ground and grip it as tightly as you can before standing up, hoping to be able to throw the ball a few feet away, just enough to get Abby out of here.
You throw the ball, knocking into a few games, setting them off.
The fox wanders in that direction and you grab the girl and start running, pushing her in front of you.
“Ru-” You glance back and find the blonde. “Vanessa.”
“Come on.” Abby legs go of you and run towards her brother.
You stop less than two feet away from him, staring at the yellow rabbit. You whimper, remembering what happened.
“What's the matter? You remember what happened,” he chuckles.
“You- you took them.”
“So, what if I did?”
“You took little kids, and you murdered them and you tried to do the same thing to me!”
Vanessa's body falls to the ground.
“Let's not get upset now.”
He chuckles, “I wouldn't want any of us to do something we'll regret.” He smiles at your humorless expression. “It's funny because I don't regret any of it. I do wish that I finished with you. It would have been the perfect ending, don't you think?”
You duck, rolling onto the floor before he could stab you but then he gets a hold of your ankle and pulls you back, closer towards him.
His emotionless eyes lit up somehow and his grip shifted from your ankle to your neck. He drags you over towards one of the machines, prepared to stab you, making an almost complete set (if only he'd have gotten Michael when he had the chance).
You wiggle in his grasp, trying to kick and shove him off you. “Stop squirming, that's why we've had this prolonged… meeting.”
Abby’s picture replaces the previous one.
His eyes widen, grip loosening giving you an opportunity to escape. “What have you done?”
You watch as the animatronics pull away the dying man before running over towards the two Schmidt siblings, helping the other one carry Vanessa out of the building.
You look around the car for anything to keep on the wound while you apply pressure. “Is there anything,” you ask through the screen.
The two shake their heads, “no.”
You sigh and use all your might to rip the bottom of your shirt. You let out a breath once you get some fabric and quickly start applying pressure, using the fabric as dressing. “What are we going to tell people?”
“Mugging gone wrong.”
“Seriously?” You glance through the screen and catch his gaze in the rearview mirror.
“Who would believe us if we told the truth?”
“Okay, well I’m sorry for asking.”
“Can you guys not fight right now?”
You avoid his gaze. “We’re not fighting, we’re strongly disagreeing with each other.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“No.”
-
“We’re here.”
“Okay, I’m going to need help getting her out.”
He nods, you notice the way he inches out of the car and know this is too much for him.
You mouth to Abby to open the door, you pull the unconscious woman out by her feet, before grabbing her arm.
A nurse behind you tells you to move.
You look around and find Abby hugging Mike’s side as they stand a few feet away from the ER entrance. “Okay. Uh,” you point to the siblings. “My fiancé has bad injuries, no stab wounds but he scratched really bad, it’s deep and I’m afraid he might need stitches,” you explain, trying not to break down right then and there.
The nurse nods, “got it. Bring him in and fill out some paperwork and we’ll check on him.”
“Okay.” You watch as they take her away, hoping you guys got her to the hospital in time. “Let’s get you inside,” you tell him.
“I’m fine.”
You raise your brows, blinking at him in disbelief. “We both know you are not, you have sustainable injuries to, who knows what extent, you are going in here and getting checked out even if I have to force you.”
He nods, “maybe getting the dressing changed won’t hurt.”
“That’s what I thought.” You wrap an arm around his waist, in case he doesn’t have enough energy to continue.
Once you get him situated, fill out the paperwork and he’s taken back; you and the little girl are left alone.
You kneel in front of her, “are you okay?”
She nods. “Abbs, I need you to tell me if you have any injuries.”
She shakes her head, trying to stay strong.
You hold your hand out for her to take and switch seats, somewhere more comfortable for the two of you. “Lay down.”
She does as you told her and rests her head on your thigh.
You place your hand on her arm, thumb brushing back and forth in a comforting manner.
“Are you and Mike together yet?”
You chuckle, glancing down at her. “Depends on if your brother will ask me out.”
“If he doesn’t, you should. He takes forever.”
“Well, aren’t you kind.” You sigh, the pain from tonight’s adventure hits you. “Close your eyes and try to sleep when the doctor tells us we can see him, I’ll wake you up.”
“You promise?”
“You’re not getting out of my sight for a while, sweetie.”
She smiles and closes her eyes.
You rest your head on your hand, watching the terrible soap opera playing on the tv in the upper corner of the room.
He walks out, searching for you two and his heart beats faster. He shakes his head seeing that you were ready to shift Abby to check on him. “I’m not staying here.”
You sigh his name.
“I know, I know.”
“Do you want to go now?”
He nods.
“I don’t think we can take the cop car now.”
He chuckles and winces.
You offer a weak smile as an apology. “Sorry?”
“I can carry her.”
“No. I got it. You’re the wounded hero here.”
“What about your aunt?”
“What do you mean?”
“You really think that she let Abby leave on her own? What if- what if she’s…”
He catches on to what you’re implying. “Maybe we should stay at yours.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s closer and I know you have some things for us to use.”
“Okay.” You lift the little girl into your arms. “Let’s go.”
-
You make it back to your place and Abby rubs her eyes. "Where are we?"
"We're at my place."
"Abby, you should take a shower before going to bed," her brother says.
"Okay."
"She didn’t argue with me."
"She almost lost you." You pat his should and move around your place, cleaning up a little more.
He watches for a second before placing a hand on your shoulder. "Hey." He tells you to stop and sit down.
"I- I can't. I need to- I need-"
He gets you to sit down on the couch before you could collapse where you stood. He sits down beside you and holds your hand, which are resting on your knees. "What happened back there?"
"He killed my friends."
"You knew them?"
You nod, wiping your cheeks to get them dry but fail as more tears fall. "After they closed Freddy's, my parent's let me stay with a few other kids after school to do homework or do kid things, you know." "Yeah."
"But then, one day we were all at the park and we were playing hide and seek. I heard something and I knew it wasn't safe, my mind was telling me to get out there and I did but the next day one of the kids we were with was taken instead. They never found him."
"Do you think it was one of them?"
You shrug, "I don't know."
"Did anything else happen?"
You shake your head, letting the tears freely trickle down your face. "Hang on." You reach over to the coffee table and grab the non-labeled book, handing it to him. "My therapist said I should write down anything and I wrote what happened. I didn't want to forget it… not that I could."
He lifts your journal, "you want me to read it?"
You nod.
"Are you sure? I mean, I feel like I'm going to be invading your privacy."
"I," you take a deep breath. "Honestly, I don't know if I should be sharing this with you but if there's anyone that I want to know about what happened, it's you."
"And you're sure you're okay with this?"
"As okay as anyone can be."
He doesn't know how to respond to that.
You tell him to get his sister and clean up for dinner.
The two turn the corner and are amazed.
"It's so much spaghetti," she squeals.
"I figured we could have a happy meal tonight. This morning. What time is it?"
They shrug and sit down, ready to dig in as their stomachs growl.
The corners of your lips twitch.
"Careful now," you grab the girl's hands, pulling them back before she could slide her arm back and have the knife fall in her lap. "How about I get your plate ready?"
"Hurry up."
You laugh and scoff at her behavior. "Watch it, little girl."
She giggles.
Once you're done, she grabs your plates and sets them in the sink before walking away.
"Woah! Woah! Where are you going?"
"I'm leaving you two alone. Kids aren't allowed on dates." She closes the door to your bedroom.
Your jaw drops. "Where did she get that idea?" You ask him.
“I- I don’t know.”
“Is she right though?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is this a date? I mean, are we dating now?”
He's not sure if saying that you guys are is the right idea or not because he doesn't know what you're thinking regarding the subject of dating him.
“If it changes anything, I'd go out with you.”
He perks up, leaning forward. “Even with everything that's happened.”
You wonder if he's referring to the incident at the mall or Freddy's. You nod, nonetheless. “Yeah, you idiot.” You bite the inside of your cheek, unsure of what's going to happen here.
“I don't think that's what girlfriends are supposed to call their boyfriends.”
“Who said you were my boyfriend?”
“I did.”
“It took your sister to help you to find the balls to ask me out, who might I add, said I should ask you out if you didn’t.” You rest your head on your knuckles. “So my question for you is,” the corner of your lips twitch as you fight the urge to smile wide, “when did you ask me to be your girlfriend?”
He stutters, resisting the urge to give you an embarrassing smile because you're right, he never did officially ask. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
“I don’t know.” You shrug and push yourself out of the chair. “I think I might have to think about it.” You’re pulled back, staring into his eyes.
“I think I already know the answer, you just don’t want to admit it.”
You let out a faux sigh, “you got me.”
He’s quiet and the only thing you know is that he’s got a million thoughts running through his head, but you don’t know what. “You know I’m not asking you out just because we almost died and I want something normal for me and Abby, right?”
“I wasn’t.”
His shoulders aren’t as tense, and you can see the stress escape him.
“Now, I am.”
He cups your cheeks, keeping your gaze on him. “I would never do anything unless I wanted to, right? You know that.”
You nod, “I know but… maybe it is too soon.”
“No,” he shakes his head, disagreeing with you.
“I have been in love with you since you kicked the dodgeball in my face during recess. It just- it took me so long to realize because of the guilt I carried for Garrett.”
“That was the second time we met?”
“And the reason we became friends.”
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, bringing him closer to hug him. “Who knew you were so sappy?”
“Hopefully you.”
You roll your eyes, pushing yourself back. “Yeah, yeah. My boyfriend’s an adorable idiot.”
He chuckles, “so I am your boyfriend?”
“Don’t ruin it.” You two crash on the couch while Abby takes over your bed, until she has a nightmare and comes to grab you two which is how you wound up in bed with your boyfriend of two hours and his kid sister.
-
The next couple of days were hectic, but you guys managed.
“You were right,” he said, closing the door behind him.
“When will you stop doubting me?”
“I never said I doubted you.”
You purse your lips. “I’m pretty sure, you said, “I don’t think she’s going to want spaghetti for the fourth night in a row” and look at where we are, pretty boy.”
“Pretty boy?”
“Yeah,” you lower your voice as if you’re talking to an adorable pet, “cause’ you’re so pretty.”
She looks up from her plate, “can we go visit my friends?”
His head lowers in disbelief before turning towards you, who avoids his gaze while eating a meatball.
You followed your boyfriend into his room, rubbing your eyes more than ready to sleep.
Tonight, it takes you less than twenty minutes to fall asleep, thankfully.
You blink finding yourself back in the arcade section of Freddy’s, following the echo coming from the dark hallway. You swear you hear a voice, quite literally calling out for someone to find it.
You open the door slowly, peeking in to see who it is and freeze.
“You found me.”
A lonely tear trickles down your cheek.
Who said life wasn’t about surprises?
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jokeringcutio · 5 months
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Chapter 2: William Afton x Reader (Explicit, SMUT) - Explore: Extermination
Want to get ravished by the dirty old man?
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On popular demand I have uploaded a second chapter to my AftonxReader tale called "EXPLORE" ( full of dubious smut and Afton fucking you till you can't walk).
So yes, it is pretty dark and Afton is an evil bastard in this. Believe it or not, but I actually came up with a plot for this one.
So many of you sent in ideas or expressed your wishes for a follow-up. This tale, which came out intended as a one-shot, just had to be continued. I wrote and threw the first bit online 4 days ago, and wrote the second chapter this morning after having been bedbound since Sunday evening. I couldn't write for a few days, but I could think eventually, and I tried to puzzle all the obscure kinks and requests into this one tale and planned a few chapters ahead. So here we go. There'll be other AftonxReader stories and prompt fills, probably. So keep sending in ideas and prompts.
Might I just say that I'm really quite surprised by the difference between the sites I posted this on? Where are all my fellow tumblers at? Ya'll just horny for our old man the Grabber nowadays? I posted this fic four days ago: On AO3 I've had people comment, think along and received a pretty good number of kudos, on Tumblr, I didn't even reach 20 notes?? Wow :o
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delicioushottubpeanut · 6 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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sideeve · 6 months
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mike was terrible at apologizing. sometimes, he could barely utter the word “i’m” to start the sentence. which becomes a problem later on in your relationship. his way of apologizing was sex. though he was very inexperienced, he had a goal to fulfill.
you had told yourself that you weren’t going to accept that anymore, that in order for him to be forgiven by you, it had to be verbal. but it was a lie. each time you thought about it, you forgave him the moment his hand made contact with your body.
with apology, it was never penetrative. he was focused on your pleasure only. either your legs were on his shoulders, face buried in your cunt as you squealed in pleasure, or he was on his knees, eating you out from behind.
every few minutes, he would beg for forgiveness, still not staying the words “i’m sorry”. he let out how bad he felt, telling you he’ll never do it again. he’s begging to her the words of your forgiveness.
“please, baby. just say it.” he slurs, drunk off of lust. “i need you to say it.” he mumbles, his lips latching onto your clit. momentarily, he would squeeze one of your asscheeks like a stress ball. “please. i—i can do better.” he whines.
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taglist ;; @baumbii
i’m taking requests for mike !! just no watersports and age play
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happy74827 · 6 months
Note
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.
2K notes · View notes
sunkendreams · 6 months
Text
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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itsbuckytm · 6 months
Text
Lace Skirt. / Mike Schmidt.
summary : mike had been in a lot of under pressure lately. he needed a distraction. a distraction you will never forget of.  warning: fluff – smut a little?? enjoy! 
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.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺
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Mike made a quick phone call, asking you to fetch his security jacket. His excuse? Claiming he was too fatigued to remember it. However, you were well aware that this was just a clever ruse to slip into the restaurant unnoticed using a straightforward yet highly effective code. With full knowledge of his true intentions, you couldn't help but stifle a chuckle on the other end of the line. In response, Mike subtly cautioned you to maintain a sense of "calm" to avoid raising any suspicion. This was one of the ways he enjoyed exerting control, a concept you'd previously touched upon when discussing "alphas."
While it might have come across as somewhat cringeworthy, Mike successfully conveyed your emotions and encouraged you to embrace your fantasies, especially when it had the potential to enhance the bond between you two. If there was one thing Mike despised above all else, it was the thought of losing you.  
Upon your arrival at the Pizzeria, you took a moment to ensure your attire remained impeccable and unblemished before stepping inside. In contrast, the establishment appeared somewhat lackluster and unwelcoming, which made you consider mentioning it to Mike beforehand. Just before entering, you swiftly retrieved your phone and sent Mike a brief text message, a playful reminder that read: "Hello, handsome. I've arrived. XO."
The "XOs" at the end of your message were unmistakably your signature when Mike felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, prompting him to grab it eagerly. Without any delay, he responded with a thumbs-up, signaling that the door was ready to swing open for you. In his subsequent text, he added, "I hope you wore that Lace skirt I adore."
Certainly, you complied with Mike's request. In fact, before entering the venue, you took care to adjust your skirt a bit lower to combat the cold that greeted you. This adjustment wasn't in your favor, as you had been specifically instructed to wear the shortest skirt possible, which meant enduring the chill and the eerie atmosphere of the place. Mike was clearly in control. Another notification beep sounded just before you tried to signal him poorly with the light from your phone, and you received a message that read, "Meet me in the monitoring room, on the left." 
Clear and efficient. You quickly managed to sneak in correctly with the directive Mike had gave you. Although the animatronics did scared you shitless, you were able to finally arrive in his office. Meaning you’d have to knock on the door, unless Mike was to busy focusing in his monitors, you though. Wrong. Mike had been waiting for you all along, especially when you heard the thick metal door opening. “Coming..” And a voice so familiar, it send shivers down your spine. 
Mike's voice was noticeably hoarse and deeper than usual, and as you approached him, you could see the redness under his eyes. Though it deeply concerned you, with the hope that he would soon find some rest, seeing him in such a state oddly ignited a desire within you for reasons you couldn't quite explain. With a subtle smirk, Mike observed you as you walked closer to him, his fingers revealing an eagerness to touch your skin. However, he wanted to examine something first. He said, "Spin for me, darling."
You obliged, and as you spun around, you felt the flare of your skirt gently brushing against your skin. There was an electric tension between the transparency of the fabric and the chill in the air, and amidst it all, you could have sworn that you caught Mike sneakily lowering his head to steal a glance. In response, you deliberately made the peek more noticeable, swirling a bit longer. In the process, you lost your balance, and your foot accidentally tripped on a cable. But Mike was quick to catch you, securing you in his lap as if it were a graceful rescue. His arms wrapped protectively around your waist, and he playfully remarked, "Seems like your coordination has improved."
"Shh..." You interrupted him with a hushed tone. "I brought your jacket as you requested. Should I...?" He silenced you with a gentle gesture, his fingers lightly brushing against your plush lips, eliciting an uncontrollable blush – a quality he adored about you. As you settled comfortably on his lap, arranging your legs with his, you couldn't help but notice a growing hardness between his thighs. You smirked innocently, hoping he wouldn't notice, and you caught a few muttered curses under his breath. 
While he attempted to conceal his desire, you seized the opportunity to speak for yourself. "Seems like someone is in the mood for a little teasing, huh?" Mike tilted his head, an intriguing glint in his eye, and he contradicted your observation when his fingers sensually trailed from your lips to your thighs. Just as casually, he lifted your skirt, leaning in to place a few tender kisses along your neck. "Well, look who's talking..."
At that instant, you became acutely aware that tonight, your mission was to divert Mike's attention. Regardless of the gravity of the situation, he had mastered your tactics and was keen on applying them beyond the confines of the room. His fingers firmly cupped your butt cheeks, prompting a surprised whimper to escape your lips as your eyes locked with his. With the most wicked smirk, he declared, "I'll make sure everyone knows you belong to me, my princess. I'll ensure it." 
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send-me-a-puffalope · 6 months
Text
thinking about how the toys in Vanessa’s room are probably William Afton’s trophy case
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storiesforallfandoms · 6 months
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i need someone older ~ william afton;five nights at freddy's
word count: 3794
request?: no
description: after a bad breakup, she finds herself becoming more and more attracted to her much older boss
pairing: william afton x female!reader
warnings: swearing, age gap (reader is mid 20s, afton is 50s), power imbalance technically (but it's fine), bit of an au (so he doesn't unalive anyone in this one)
masterlist (one, two, three)
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I stormed into work, really pushing it for time. I had slept past my alarm and was incredibly reluctant to get out of bed. After the night I had, the last thing I wanted was to work eight hours in a children's restaurant, with screaming kids and the animatronics playing the same three songs all day. But I needed the money, and hopefully a distraction.
"Whoa, who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?" my coworker, Adam, asked.
"Fuck off," I muttered. "I gotta go change into my uniform. Can you punch me in so I'm not late?"
"Yeah. Be quick, though. Afton's here."
I rolled my eyes. "He doesn't even know our names. He's not going to know I'm supposed to be on the clock."
I changed as quickly as I could while having limited space in a tiny bathroom stall. I stuffed my clothes into my backpack and did a quick double check in the mirror to make sure I was work appropriate. I wasn't paying enough attention as I stepped out of the bathroom and managed to literally run into someone who was walking past. I cursed under my breath as I looked up and came face to face with the fucking owner of Freddy Fazbear's.
As if this day couldn't get any worse.
"|'m so sorry, Mr. Afton," I said.
"Don't worry about it," he said. "Where's the fire, though? You seem like you're in a hurry."
How do I answer this without getting in shit? "I'm just, uh...trying not to be late. I had to change, and bring my bag to my locker."
William looked down at his watch. I felt my heart starting to pound.
"Cutting it a little close there," he commented.
"I know."
My grip on my bag had tightened as I braced for the worst. I had never met William before. Despite owning the restaurant, he was rarely ever around. Whenever he was, he was usually tucked away in his office for most of the day and only ever spoke with our manager. Due to this, I didn't know if he would be a hard ass who was about to write me up for running late. After the events of the previous night, I didn't think I'd be able to take getting reprimanded today.
He took me by surprise when he smiled and said, "Just don't let it happen again, okay?"
I nodded, unable to form any words, and scurried around him to the lockers.
Adam looked at me when I finally returned to the floor. "What took you so long?"
"I ran into Afton," I responded.
His eyes widened. "Did he give you shit?"
"Luckily no. Just told me not to let it happen again."
"I warned you that he was here."
I flipped Adam off when I was sure none of the kids could see me.
As if my day couldn't get any worse, my manager came to tell me that I was stationed on the prize counter for the day. The prize counter was probably the worst part of the restaurant. There was never any downtime at the counter. Either there was rowdy children hopped up on candy and pizza screaming about wanting toys they didn't have enough tickets for, or there were tired parents wanting to buy tokens for the arcade games while their rowdy kids were nearby screaming. Not to mention it was right next to the main stage, so the sound of screaming children was only matched by the sound of pre-recorded music coming from the animatronics' speakers. And to top it all off, the closing duties for the prize counter took longer than any other section of the restaurant.
It was the worst section to work, and I already wanted to leave just knowing that was my station for the day.
The only plus side was that being kept busy made the day fly by. But the usual craziness of Freddy Fazbear's was extra unbearable to a point where I felt myself on the edge of tears numerous times. I knew it was going to be a bad idea for me to be at work, and I was really regretting coming in.
I let out a sigh of relief as the last family finally left and the animatronics finally powered down. Adam laughed at me as I put my head down on the cool glass that held the prizes. "You're giving yourself more work to do."
I looked at the smudge I had left on the glass before glaring up at him. "I don't think my one smudge is making things any worse."
"Okay seriously, what is up with you? You've been grumpy all day."
I sighed and shook my head. "I had a bad night."
"Do you want me to help you close up so you can get out of here sooner?"
I gave him a look. "We both know you don't actually want that."
"But I'd do it to help you."
"I appreciate it, but I'll be fine. My annoyance and desire to leave will make me work faster."
Adam didn't fight me on it anymore. He said goodnight and clocked out. Once I heard the front door close and lock, I immediately got to work with cleaning. That was the easiest part as all I had to do was clean the glass of the prize case and pick up the discarded tickets from the floor. When I finished that, I started counting the cash in order to close it off. That was supposed to be another easy task, but my mind being anywhere but the task at hand made it so much harder.
Restocking the prizes was the hardest part. I had been on my own for nearly an hour, and I was both mentally and physically exhausted, so I was trying to rush out of there but found myself fumbling a little extra. I was trying to dump a box of tiny soldier toys into their respective bin when the box slipped from my hands and landed on its side, the toys scattering all over the floor.
It was my breaking point. Everything finally came crashing down around me and the flood gates finally opened. I lowered myself to the floor, sitting with my back against the counter. I buried my head into my hands and began to sob.
"Seems like a bit of a strong reaction to dropping some toys."
I jumped and looked towards where the voice had come from. I was sure I was the only one left in the restaurant, everyone else having left while I was doing my closing duties. Even my manager had left, giving me the keys and the code to the security system. But, turns out, I was wrong, because there was William Afton leaning over the counter to look down at me.
I quickly scrambled to my feet, wiping the tears from my face. "S-Sorry Mr. Afton. I-I didn't realize - "
"Hey, it's okay," he said, cutting me off and speaking in a soft voice. "What's going on? You seem stressed."
"It's...personal things. I shouldn't have let it interfere with my work."
"Fuck the professional shit for a second here. Forget I'm your boss, forget we're on the clock. If there's anything going on that you want to talk about, I'm all ears."
I leaned against the counter across from him. "It's stupid."
"You're crying, so I don't think it's that stupid."
I sighed. "My boyfriend broke up with me last night, after admitting he's been cheating on me for the last three months."
William whistled in response. "That's tough."
I nodded. "It just...came out of nowhere. We've been together for three years, moved in together last year. There was no signs that anything was wrong. I didn't even suspect that he was cheating. He came home last night and suddenly told me everything. Packed a bag and went to his...I guess...girlfriend's house. Told me he'd be back at some point this week to get his stuff."
Tears were stinging my eyes again. I looked away so William wouldn't see me cry anymore. Upon looking down, I realized my bare arms were on the glass of the prize counter, leaving smudges again. I cursed under my breath and turned to grab the cleaner again.
"Here, let me," William said, reaching for the cleaner. "You pick up the toy soldiers and I'll help restock the prizes once I finish this."
I was a little shocked, but definitely was not about to argue over getting help. We worked much quicker as a team and, finally, I was able to clock out to leave. I stood by as William set the security system and locked the gates.
"Thank you for helping me," I said.
"You don't have to thank me," he said. "It seemed you needed help, and I wasn't about to let one of my employees struggle while I was on the property." I smiled at him and started for my car. "For what it's worth - " I paused and turned back to him. " - your ex-boyfriend is a fucking idiot. You seem like a great woman. Don't beat yourself up over him."
He smiled and turned to walk towards his own car. I watched him go, surprised by what he said. Even through the cold night air, I could feel my face burning.
~~~~~~
William was around more after that. Not just in his office, but he was actually out on the floor. Everyone was noticing his increased presence, but I found myself noticing it in a different way. Whenever William was near, my eyes were practically glued to him. I found it difficult to concentrate whenever he was around. Luckily, everyone else was so distracted by his presence that they didn't notice how useless I had become.
It was wrong. I knew that. Having a crush on a coworker was bad enough, but a crush on your boss was a whole other level of bad. Especially when your boss is so much older. I had no idea whether or not he was even married or had kids for God's sake!
But every time I saw him, I couldn't stop my heart from racing. I wanted him in a way I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't stop myself.
During one of my shifts, I was put on the serving section. Serving was easy enough - take orders, bring food, check on tables. The hardest part was trying not to trip over a child running past while carrying a whole pizza on a hot tray. Most of us had learned the art of scanning the area before we walked, but sometimes you just don't notice quick enough and end up surprised by one of those little fuckers.
One of the cooks passed a pizza through the pass to me and told me the table number. I took the tray and balanced it against my shoulder, something I found was the easiest way to balance the bigger trays. The restaurant wasn't too busy, but there were still enough kids running around that I took in my surroundings before I started to walk. I was making a mental note about two kids who were stood by the stage, dancing to the song that Freddy was "singing", and didn't notice another kid who was racing from one of the playrooms in front of me. I stopped suddenly, just short of running into him, but found myself losing my balance after he ran past.
I felt two hands grab hold of my waist, holding me upright and saving me from a very embarrassing scene. When I turned to thank my savior, I came to face the blue eyes I had been trying to desperately to avoid today.
"That could've been a disaster," William said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Th-thank you," I managed to stutter out. I could still feel the heat of his hands against my waist, like they were burning through the clothes and searing my skin. I almost forgot the heavy tray of pizza I was carrying in that moment.
When he let me go, his eyes still trained on me, I quickly turned and hurried to my table. I tried not to seem so flustered, but I knew I had failed. I stuttered through every sentence before finally dismissing myself to the prize counter where one of my other coworkers, Beth, was snickering to herself.
"What was that about?" she asked.
"Don't ask," I responded.
"Oh, I'm asking. Are you all hot and bothered for Afton?!"
"Shh!" I snapped, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one had heard. Not like anyone would over the usual noise of the restaurant.
"Oh, you so are!" she said. "Holy shit, (Y/N), you know that's bad news right? He's literally our boss."
"I know he is. I'm not stupid. But...I can't help it!"
"At least he would be more of a gentleman than that small dick asshole you call your ex." She looked over her shoulder as the front door to the pizzeria opened. When she looked back, her eyes were wide. "Speak of the devil."
I looked over to see none other than the small dick asshole himself, Josh, walking in. I wished I could disappear into the floor and never be seen again. I tried to turn and walk away before he spotted me, but no luck.
"(Y/N)!"
I groaned and turned back to him. "What do you want, Josh?"
"I was just over getting the last of my stuff - "
"Awesome, I do not care. If you've come to give me your key back, you could've just left it on the dining room table."
"No, I came to say that I couldn't find my Springsteen album."
I furrowed my eyebrows and crossed my arms. "So you came all this way to...what? Ask me what I did with it? I have no idea, Josh, I threw everything that was yours into boxes and garbage bags. If it's not in there, you might've left it in your car or at your new girlfriend's house."
"It's not any of those places." I wasn't sure if I should've been hurt about the fact that he wasn't addressing my last comment directly, but I definitely was a little bit.
"What do you want me to do about it?"
"I wanted to see when you were going to be off work and maybe I could come by to look for it with you."
I scoffed. "Are you serious right now? Josh, I don't know what the fuck happened to your album, but you're sure as hell not coming over to the house. That is not your place anymore, and you're very much not welcome there."
"Why can't we be adults about this?"
"You lost the right to being adult about this the second you decided to cheat on me! And how dare you say that shit, but then come down to my place of work to try and, what, harass me into letting you back into my home? We're over, Josh. I don't ever want to see you again. If I find any of your shit left at the house, I'll drop it in the trash."
"What seems to be the problem here?"
I suppressed the urge to groan again. As if things couldn't get any more complicated.
"No problem, Mr. Afton," I said, turning to face William with the best, innocent smile I could muster. "Just an...unwelcome guest."
William looked at me for a moment before letting his eyes wander to Josh. I didn't have to say much else for him to recognize who the "unwelcome guest" was and I could see anger in his eyes.
"Well, time to get back to work, (Y/N)," he said to me. "Your customers are waiting."
I nodded and ducked away from the situation. As I walked away, Josh called after me, "That's fine, I'll be waiting for you to get off! We can talk more then!"
"Like hell you will."
A collective gasp from the parents and Beth cause me to spin around to see William had grabbed hold of the collar of Josh's shirt. William was easily a head taller than Josh, so even if the act wasn't meant to be intimidating, he definitely looked intimidating. I don't think I've ever seen such fear on Josh's face. William turned Josh around and basically dragged him towards the front door.
"If I see you back here, I will have your ass arrested," he said as he threw Josh out of the restaurant. "Are we clear, punk?"
He didn't wait for a response as he pulled the door shut. I could see Josh standing there, a mixture of fear and confusion on his face. William re-entered the main area, still looking angry, but tried to put on his best customer service smile as he addressed his new crowd. "Sorry everyone. Just an unruly customer. Sorry for any trouble."
To me he added, "Come see me in my office, please."
Beth and I exchanged a look before I followed William towards his office. I was so sure he was going to get upset with me. Not only had I brought my personal shit to the restaurant (even though that wasn't my fault), but it had also resulted in a not so great scene in front of the customers. People get to talking, and I was sure that this story was going to be spread through town before the night was out.
The moment I stepped into his office, I set in on the apologies. "Mr. Afton, I'm so sorry about that. I had no idea he was coming. I've been trying to avoid him while he's moving his stuff out and I guess he was getting tired of that or wanted to poke me one last time or something - "
"Did he hurt you?"
I paused my rambling to look up at him. All anger was gone from his face and had instead been replaced by concern.
"What?" I asked.
"Did he do anything to you just then?"
I shrugged. "Not physically. He was definitely still trying to mess with me mentally, though."
William nodded. "Well, he's not welcome on the property anymore. If you see him, you have my full permission to contact the police immediately."
"I...I don't think that's entirely necessary."
"I don't mean to sound like an old man or anything, but I've met plenty of assholes like your ex, (Y/N). You give them an inch and they take a mile. If you don't deal with this now, he will continue to come back and harass you. I don't want that for you. You don't deserve that."
I opened my mouth to say something else, but nothing came out. I was realizing how close we were now. We were mere inches away from one another. If I wanted to, I could just reach out and touch him right now; grab him. I could've kissed him right then and there if I really wanted to. Who would've known?
As if reading my mind, William suddenly reached out and cupped my face. Before I could comprehend what was happening, his lips were on mine. It was kind of ironic, the fact that I had just been thinking about doing this exact thing, but now that it was happening it was like my brain wasn't sure how to comprehend the situation.
William pulled away just as quickly as he had initiated the kiss. He backed away from me, suddenly worried. "I'm so sorry. I...I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have done that."
In response, I pretty well threw myself at him. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him with such force that it pushed him back into his desk. He positioned himself so that he was sat on his desk and basically pulled me into his lap. It was risky, anyone could've come by and caught us, but something about that just made the experience so much better; so much hotter.
William pulled away first again. I tried to chase his lips with mine, but he pushed me back, chuckling at my eagerness.
"Hold on," he said. "There's some things we have to discuss before this goes any further."
"Please don't tell me you're married," I said.
He laughed. "No, I'm not married. Divorced with a 10 year old daughter. That was the first thing I wanted to discuss, in case single dad is a dealbreaker."
"Very much not a dealbreaker."
"So...the age thing is also not a dealbreaker then?"
I shook my head. "If anything, I think that makes it kinda hotter."
A grin spread on his face. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind. But there is the big issue of the fact that I'm your boss."
It felt like I had been shoved off of cloud nine and come crashing down to earth. For a moment, I had forgotten that part. He was right, that was the biggest issue here. Kind of hard to get around it unless I ended up quitting, which I really did not want to do. It was nearly impossible to find a good paying job these days, and I needed this now more than ever since Josh wasn't going to be splitting rent with me anymore.
I climbed off of William's lap and stood across from him. "I guess...that is a big issue, huh?"
"I just don't want you to feel pressured into anything, and I don't want anyone to look at you any different because you're dating the boss."
I raised a playful eyebrow at him. "You jumped to dating pretty quickly there."
His smile was a little more bashful. "What can I say? I'm old school. I don't believe in hooking up or anything like that. If there's anything going on here, I want you to be able to classify it as a relationship."
In that moment, I found myself wondering why I hadn't always dated older men. I had wasted so much of my time on guys my age when I could've been dating someone who was actually a gentleman and cared about me and my feelings.
"Why don't we see where things go with this, and then we can tackle that big elephant in the room?" I asked.
"I think I can agree to that."
I took a step closer and said, "I really want to kiss you again, though."
He laughed and met me halfway, standing from his desk and taking my face in his hands again. When he kissed me, I felt like I was flying right back on to cloud nine.
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sundrop-writes · 6 months
Text
Damn The Man, Save The Empire
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(Dark)Dom!Vanessa Shelly x Sub!GN!Reader
Heaven is a place we can't afford.
Summary:
Vanessa has always taken care of you.
Since the two of you were kids, she has put her neck on the line for you, and you rarely knew how to return that epic kindness. One night, while both of you are raw and on-edge, the dark cloud of your strange past looming over both of you nearly swallows both of you whole - and once again, Vanessa is right there, taking care of you.
(Dark)Dom!Vanessa Shelly x Sub!Gender Neutral Reader. Toxic Co-Dependent Relationship. Smut and Angst. Takes place before the main timeline of the film (features spoilers for the movie).
Word Count: 6,100
Horror Characters Masterlist | AO3 Link
Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: This fic contains major spoilers for the film (even though it takes place before the main bulk of the film) - if you haven’t seen the movie yet and you want to watch it spoiler-free, be cautious; general toxic relationship - the two main characters have a very toxic relationship; there is a power imbalance in the relationship due to one of the characters being a police officer; both of the main characters have a lot of childhood trauma and they show it in their actions; there is underlying dom/sub dynamics - the reader is submissive and Vanessa is dominant; somewhat dubious consent - the whole interaction starts out as an argument rather than something explicitly sexual, but the reader still enjoys it the whole time (one of those safe, consensual, but not ‘sane’ situations). The reader’s gender is completely ambiguous - the only pronouns used for the reader are you/yours, and the reader’s genitals are described in a way that could be interpreted as the character being amab or afab, no specific gendered terms are used; mentions of the reader having sex with someone who is not Vanessa (a random unnamed man); mentions of the reader having sex in the back of someone’s car and being caught by a police officer who is not Vanessa (and then being passed off to Vanessa); dark!Vanessa, jealous!Vanessa, possessive!Vanessa (she hates that the reader had sex with someone else earlier that night).
The reader and Vanessa have been friends since childhood; mention of the reader drinking/ingesting alcohol - not enough to impair consent or impair the general senses; the reader calls Vanessa ‘Ness’ or ‘Nessa’ as a nickname; technically, Vanessa does ‘arrest’ the reader (she doesn’t bring the reader into a police station or file any official paperwork); Vanessa puts the reader in handcuffs in a non-sexual way, and later those handcuffs are used for sexual bondage; use of Y/N (and L/N, meaning Last Name); mention of the reader character stealing and doing other petty crimes; mentions of Vanessa’s childhood trauma - her father murdering children and forcing her to help cover it up (implications that she also participated in the killings in some way); the reader witnessed one of the killings as a child and has also kept it a secret; somewhat graphic descriptions of murder/a child being killed.
Some manhandling but nothing that would insist that Vanessa has inhuman strength; hair-pulling - kind of in a sexy way, kind of in a violent way; Vanessa literally steps on the reader (again, kind of violent, kind of sexy) - some breath restriction due to being stepped on; general pain kink; the characters in this fic have a poor attitude toward casual hook-ups; there is a hand on the neck but no purposeful choking (very little restriction of breath); nipple play - Vanessa painfully tugs the reader’s nipple; something like subspace is described, but the word ‘subspace’ isn’t specifically used; slight inspection kink; spanking - on the reader’s thighs and on the reader’s genitals; Vanessa calls the reader ‘brat’; a lot of this could be seen as brat-taming/brat tamer!Vanessa; Vanessa uses her hand on the reader - because the reader’s genitals are not described, this could be interpreted as a handjob or fingering (but there are no mentions of penetration); Vanessa fucks herself against the reader’s thigh; Vanessa edges the reader (once); asking permission to orgasm; biting/marking kink; I believe that's finally everything.
A/N: This fic is named after a Pierce The Veil song of the same name. I definitely recommend listening to the song, because the lyrics fit with this fic so so well. A very large part of her characterization in this is informed by the 'if you bring Abby back here again, I will shoot you' moment from the movie - rage fuelled by compassion and love and protectiveness for another person. I really love that part and I think it's such an interesting aspect to her character. Also, I put a lot of thought into making this completely gender neutral, making sure the reader could be interpreted as amab or afab, so I hope that everyone enjoys it! Also - I know that it might be weird for Vanessa's nickname in this fic to be 'Ness' because that's the name of Matpat's diner character (named after a character in one of his theories??) but I think it's a cute nickname, and if I actually knew her, that's what I would call her. So I am going off the idea that neither of the characters in this fic know Ness the diner waiter, and the reader has just always called Vanessa 'Ness'. So - yeah.
...
“Get in the car.” Vanessa barked - the pure anger and annoyance in her voice echoed through the night. 
You hated that it brought you a certain kind of warped joy. 
She put a hand flat on your back, between your shoulder blades, and roughly shoved you toward the back bumper of her police cruiser. 
You purposefully walked slower, just to mock her, and she let out a harsh sigh. You bit your lip to hold back a grin. At this point in your lives, this was just the nature of your relationship with your best friend. You didn’t just get under her skin, you lived there. 
“God, I can’t believe you!” She shouted. “Public indecency? You’ve gotten in shit for some pretty stupid things, but having sex in the back of some random asshole’s car-?!” 
“The back of someone’s car should not be considered ‘public’!” You argued, laughter edging on your voice. 
It was difficult to take things seriously when you knew that the consequences wouldn’t be too severe. Vanessa always swooped in to save you. She would just bring you home, scold you a bit. But she wouldn’t do anything that would leave a lasting mark. 
“Did you even know the guy you were fucking? Did you even use a fucking condom?” She screeched at you. 
Did you know the guy? Sort of. Did you use a condom? Yes, you did. 
But you were in the mood to annoy Vanessa even more. 
You shrugged. “Why does it matter? Your stupid cop friend interrupted us before we could even finish, so-” 
“Ugh, get in the car!”
She was lucky that Officer Lamontange had been on duty, and he owed her a favor. Anybody else would have slapped a pair of cuffs on you and hauled you to the station without a second thought. You’d be in processing by now, and you’d be in jail for the next few weeks before they could even get you a public defender. 
But that was you and Vanessa. You fucked up, she stuck her neck out for you. This was probably going to be one time too many. This was going to be the one that got her fired. She had already been warned about letting you off, performing ‘special favors’. 
“Get in the car!” You repeated back, mocking her voice in a silly way before you let out a chuckling howl. 
So what? You liked to party. So what? Those parties got a little out of control. 
It’s not your fault some uptight suburban yuppies called the cops on you for having fun. You didn’t even know that having an ‘open container’ of booze and having sex in the back of someone’s car was illegal anyway. Live and learn. 
“God, how much have you had to drink?” Vanessa gritted through her teeth, low and full of breath, the way she always did when she was angry. 
It was something that made your stomach twist and made you far dizzier than the alcohol did. You weren’t sure if it was from lust - from your underlying attraction toward her, or if it was from fear. Perhaps a bit of both. 
“Let me smell your breath.” She demanded. 
Truthfully, you hadn’t had that much to drink. One or two sips from a bottle, enough to get you a bit buzzed. You had been planning on having more later. But you were in a nagging mood, and didn’t want to give into her so easily. 
“Ness, I’m not a fucking teenager-” You argued, still facing away from her as you trudged toward the car with lazy steps. 
She put a hand on your elbow and whipped you around with a surprising strength, forcing you to face her. She was tight in your personal space before you could blink, and instinctively, you clamped your mouth closed and held your breath - though you knew that the smell of Jack Daniels would be apparent coming off your nose and lips whether you breathed on her or not. 
“You’re not a teenager anymore, but you’re sure as fuck acting like one.” She said harshly. 
You finally released your breath, giving another laugh and a shrug. 
“At least I know how to have fun.” You argued, entirely careless about the situation. 
You expected that you would get into the front seat of the car and she would drive you home. She’d probably make you drink some water before tucking you into bed, and you would fall asleep to her giving you a long lecture about responsibility. She would come by in the morning with coffee and bagels (despite the stereotypes about cops, Vanessa was not much of a donut person). 
But instead of partaking in this predictable routine, Vanessa surprised you with her next move. 
She put a hand in the middle of your back and shoved you toward the car again. This time you were closer - your stomach landed against the back bumper, and you let out a small grunt as you collided with it. You turned your head over your shoulder to question her, but before you could get any words out, she pulled one of your forearms to the middle of your back and you felt cold steel on your wrist. 
“Y/N L/N, you’re under arrest for Public Intoxication and Public Indecency,” She announced, her voice deadly calm, and stern. 
“Ness, you’re seriously arresting me?” You asked, insult and scorn running through your voice. 
Her answer came in the form of her bringing your other wrist to the middle of your back - she joined it into the cuffs with the harsh, echoing grind of metal as the cuffs slid into place. 
“You have the right to remain silent-” She said, continuing to go about the routine in a very unfeeling tone. 
“You have the right to fuck off.” You bit back bitterly. 
“Anything you say can and will be used against you-” 
“Is that everything I’ve ever told you from when we were kids, or is that just starting now?” You asked, feeling spite rise up in you. 
“Will you ever learn to shut up?” She replied with a sarcastic, spiteful question of her own, and grabbed you to bring you around to the back door of the car. 
You heaved out a sigh as she opened the door. As she put a hand on the top of your head and tried to push you into the car, you resisted further. 
“Ness, seriously?” You said, hoping one last push against her would get her to take off the cuffs. 
“Just get in the car.” She repeated again, her voice entirely stern. 
You sagged, and let yourself become pliant to her motions as she guided you into the backseat. 
It wasn’t the first time you had been in the back of her police car. But it was always under other circumstances. If something else was occupying the front seat, like a large tool box or her gym bag, then she would make you sit in the back. Sometimes, if you were too drunk to sit up and she was afraid you would puke on her, then she would make you sit in the back. You found it to be a decent place to fall asleep. 
However, this was the first time you had been in the backseat in handcuffs. 
This was the first time she had officially arrested you. 
You found it uncomfortable to sit with your wrists behind your back, but you knew that was currently the least of your problems. Vanessa leaned in, reaching for the seatbelt, ready to strap you in, fiddling with it for a moment before she grunted with frustration. 
“The seatbelt back here is still broken.” She said through gritted teeth as she moved to stand at her full height outside the car. “Because someone insisted on-” 
“Oh, shut up.” You barked back. “Where else was I supposed to strap in Sir Bearrington?” 
A few weeks ago she had picked you up from a carnival. 
You had been detained by security there for stealing a large lock box of money from one of the vendors - it had been out in the open, too tempting. When you had taken it with no real plan and simply started running, you had eventually been caught by the security staff on the grounds. 
And when you had been locked up in the office, you had called Vanessa - and she had arrived to bail you out without question. Earlier in the night, you had won an oversized teddy bear and refused to give it up even when Vanessa insisted that it was stupid. 
Apparently your insistence to try and strap the bear into her back seat, the ensuing argument the two of you had over it, grabbing the seatbelt and tugging at it - had broken the seatbelt. You hadn’t been paying much attention at the time. 
“You’re not cute.” Vanessa mumbled, clearly disgruntled by the whole thing. 
She slammed the back door closed, leaving you unrestrained in the back of the car, fully prone to be injured in a car accident. Though, you supposed she didn’t care about that with how angry she was at you right now. 
She walked around to the front seat and got in, leaving the two of you in a sullen silence as she started the car and drove away. She didn’t even bother putting on the radio to buffer that silence, and you hated how much it made you feel like a child sitting in the principal’s office. 
You stared at the back of her head through the metal mesh of the cage separating the front and the back - something that supposedly kept her safe from the dangerous criminal that you were. You felt a deep bitter ache form inside of you as all of it truly set in. With the handcuffs biting into your wrists and your fingers beginning to tingle with numbness, it truly hit you. 
Vanessa wasn’t going to protect you anymore. 
“You’re seriously bringing me in?” You choked out, not intending for the hurt to come through in your voice as much as it did. 
“Yes.” Vanessa replied. “You did something wrong. You deserve to see justice.” 
“Justice?” You scoffed, shaking your head. “You sure have a funny sense of that.” 
“How so?” Vanessa asked, her voice entirely timid. 
She kept her eyes straight ahead, not daring to catch a glimpse of your disappointed face in the rearview mirror. She had a feeling that she knew what you were going to say, and she wasn’t going to like it. 
“If you had any sense of justice, you wouldn’t have begged me not to rat out your father all those years ago.” You said, your voice choked off by emotion. “I would have told everyone what I saw, and he’d be in jail. You would have gone into foster care with some other family, and you’d be miles and miles away from this shithole town. And… I’d probably be in the psych ward. Making paper crafts with some nice woman named Martha.” 
“Please don’t talk about my father.” Vanessa gritted out - it was a very tender spot for her, which was something that you already knew. 
The day you met Vanessa was one of the worst days of your life. 
It started out as a day that was entirely unassuming, at best. You had divorced parents, and when your father got you on weekends, he didn’t like to try too hard. He was the type of dad who turned on the TV and fell asleep, left you to your own devices. You liked it that way. 
That weekend, he had brought you out. Freddy Fazbear’s was a place kids could have fun, and their parents could sit back and forget about them. You liked it there - just like any other kid would. You ran around, played arcade games, ate pizza. You gawked at the animatronic band and danced to their songs. 
At one point, you ran into a shy little blond girl and she introduced herself to you as Vanessa. She told you that sometimes being at Freddy’s got boring for her because her father worked there and she was there all the time. She showed you all the best arcade games, and a hack to get a free play (unplugging them and plugging them back in, which reset them to ‘demo mode’). She even snuck behind the prize counter and got you a decoder ring that you had been admiring, but didn’t have enough tickets for. 
The two of you had the best afternoon together. And you hated it when your father shouted your name and told you that you were going home. So you told him that you needed a spare minute to say goodbye to your new friend Vanessa. And then, innocently enough - you sought her out. 
This search for her mistakenly led you into one of the back rooms.
The horrors you saw could barely be described. A Yellow Rabbit mascot missing its head. A twisted, laughing face covered in blood. A horrifically large knife plunging into a small body. Bright red, thick blood. Guts, flesh. Carnage. 
Vanessa found you just as her father spotted you out of the corner of his eye. He came at you with the bloody knife at the ready. That crazed expression on his face was the most unforgettable thing about him. Whenever you closed your eyes and thought back to that day - the expression on his face was the thing that you remembered most. 
Vanessa threw herself in front of you and begged for your life. The discussion between them that followed was a blur in your mind as your heart thumped hard between your ears. Something about ‘witnesses’ and ‘loose ends’. All you knew for certain was that Vanessa had saved your life. 
At one point, using his large, yellow mascot hand, he thrust a knife toward her, forcing it into her small fist - and he told her that it was time for her to start ‘pulling her weight’. Vanessa took you by the wrist and took you to another room. 
But you never felt afraid with her, not for a moment. 
She made you swear not to tell anyone what you had seen, and you did. And because she just didn’t have it in her to take a life, especially not yours - she let you live. 
It was too weekends later when your father brought you back to Freddy’s. 
You were excited to see Vanessa. Her father was not excited to see you. When he pulled you into one of the back rooms and berated Vanessa about why you were still ‘around’ - you finally found your courage, and told him that you ‘wouldn’t tell’. The smile he gave you was almost as horrifying as the killing had been. He patted you on the head, and said that he liked loyalty ‘in his friends’. 
The Bonnie plushie that he gave you - a kind of reward for your silence, felt tainted. You threw it away at the closest opportunity, but you kept the decoder ring. You still had it in your jewelry box, even to this day. 
Strangely enough, that wasn’t the last time you saw Vanessa. The two of you spent more and more time together, quickly becoming best friends. You were two lost children in the world, two warped branches of a tree growing to lean on each other, desperate to find the sun. You were the only person who knew all of her dark secrets and didn’t care. You were the only person around her who wasn’t dead, or didn’t fear the rumors about her after Freddy’s shut down - even after she started going by her mother’s maiden name, desperate to escape the dark shadow her father had created over her life. 
Being around Vanessa, spending more time with her - it meant that you did see her father in passing. Every time you did, it felt like seeing a ghost. It did feel like the man with the knife and the crazed expression on his face was a completely different person from the man with the thick glasses who sat across from you at the dinner table, offering you more peas and asking about how your classes were going. 
Vanessa was always the same person. She was always stubborn. She was always a champion for the innocent. She was always someone who needed intense control over every aspect of her life. You thought she would have been destined to become a social worker - but you guessed that she had seen too many broken, dead kids for a lifetime. And she liked the security of having a gun on her belt. So that’s why she became a cop. 
You became a highschool drop-out, part-time drunk, petty criminal, sex degenerate, and general failure. 
It was a real case study of the two roads that trauma corrupted people can take. If anybody were ever willing to take a closer look. 
Vanessa fuelled her anxiety and anger into going forward, charging ahead without thinking, and your anxiety and nightmares caused you to fall more and more backward by the minute. 
“How is dear old daddy, by the way?” You asked, picking at the raw nerve out of spite. “Has he missed me at family dinners?” 
“Shut up!” Vanessa barked. Then after a heavy moment, she let out another quiet, mousy sentence. “I haven’t seen him in years. You know that.” 
“Oh, but your bank account says otherwise.” You replied, a cocky tone breaching through. “The new apartment is so nice. I know you’re not bankrolling all that on a cop’s salary. What kind of dirty work does he have you doing these days?” 
Vanessa’s silence was painfully knowledgeable. 
He had sucked her back in somehow. 
“I knew that you always had a soft spot for him.” You sighed. “You probably wish he had gotten rid of me all those years ago, huh?” You mumbled quietly. “It’s not like you ever actually cared about me.” 
Of course, you were feeling hurt by her putting you in handcuffs, threatening to turn you in, something that felt like the ultimate betrayal - so the words slipped out. 
You were shocked when Vanessa slammed on the breaks and the car came to a screeching halt. It was lucky that you were on a desolate backroad with nobody else to rear-end you at the sudden stop. If not for your instincts (even while slightly inebriated) to put your foot against the cage, keeping yourself from smacking forward, then you likely would have had the harsh shape of that mesh imprinted on your cheek. 
“I never cared about you?” Vanessa asked, her voice filled with an intense, dark rage. 
You caught her eye in the rearview mirror, and save for the tears dancing on her waterline - she had a look almost identical to that same crazed look her father had worn all those years ago. You almost would have mocked her for it if you didn’t feel your stomach clenching up with fear. 
You had to remind yourself that this was your Vanessa. This wasn’t him. 
“I never cared about you?” She repeated, so utterly insulted by what you had said that she could feel her reality tearing apart. She almost could believe that you had said it. 
“Vanessa-” You choked out, calling her by her full name for the first time in so long. 
Before you could beg for mercy or apologize, she abruptly cut you off. 
“No.” She said. “Shut up.” 
The pure force of her voice sent chills through you, and this time you couldn’t help but to comply. 
You sat in a dizzying silence as she slammed on the gas pedal again, and the car went speeding off. She seemed very determined with where she was going. After a minute or two, where you were becoming increasingly light-headed from your worry, Vanessa whipped the cruiser into an empty lot - a random patch of old pavement that looked like it was on the back end of a place used to keep scrap cars. 
It was dark and secluded. Nobody would find you here. 
She turned off the car and got out, and the back door was open before you could blink. 
“Vanes-” 
You tried to speak to her again, but she reached into the back and grabbed you harshly. One hand tight in your hair, fierce, like a catty teenage fight, and the other on the collar of your crappy old band shirt. She tore your body out of the car (once again, her strength amazed you), stretching out the neck of your shirt in the process. You pattered along with your feet, struggling to keep up and whining in pain as she tugged harshly on your roots, likely pulling hair out in some places. 
You would deny that you liked the pain, especially when it was inflicted onto you by her. 
She tossed you onto the ground and the roughness of the pavement bit into your skin. You let out a sharp groan as you felt some of the skin on your elbow being scraped away.
“Ness-” 
Before you could speak, she put a hefty boot on your hip and turned you over, turning you over onto your back. She then pushed that boot into the middle of your stomach, forcing all the air out of you. With the force pushing down on you, your arms became numb as your hands got pushed into the pavement, the metal of the cuffs biting into your wrists even more now. 
You looked up the length of her body at her, admiring her like a monument in the darkness. Oddly enough, equal parts fear and lust tingled through you as you had nothing but her in your view. Your mind became hazy from the grounding weight of her boot pushing down against the middle of your body. She was a goddess - piercing blue eyes, glassy and crazed, and the swell of her breasts, tightly pressed against her blue uniform shirt, the slight of her shoulders just barely blocking out the inky blue of the night sky as she towered over you. 
You knew that she could have killed you. She could have easily shot you and left your body there, and nobody would have cared about a petty criminal fuck-up like you turning up dead. 
But in that moment, you weren’t afraid. You never had to be afraid with her. 
“Vanessa-” 
“Shut. Up.” She ground out, the words harsh through her teeth. 
She pressed her foot down slightly, causing you to moan out in pain. 
“Do not, for a moment, even begin to judge-” She almost choked on the words, grinding like harsh knives against her throat. “Do not begin to perceive how much I do or do not care about you.” She said, the words harsh and venomous in the cool air. “If I didn’t care about you, you would fucking know it.” 
You knew there was more to it, more waiting on her tongue. Words she couldn’t say. 
‘If I didn’t care about you, you wouldn’t be here right now.’ 
You were lucky to have her. You knew that. 
“I’m sorry.” You croaked out, finding it hard to breathe around the boot pressing into your diaphragm. 
Once again, this reminded you of her power over you - the way she towered over you like a proud monument. You hated the fact that even as you struggled for air, you felt a demanding need growing between your thighs. 
It certainly didn’t help that you hadn’t been able to cum earlier. Like you had said, you had been interrupted before you and your ‘friend’ (acquaintance, a random guy you kind of knew) could finish up. And although you hadn’t been expecting that to be a very satisfying sexual encounter, you were hoping for it to be distracting and take the edge off of your general horniness, at the very least. 
Now you were here - unintentionally edged and hornier than ever. 
“Yeah, I’ll show you sorry.” Vanessa muttered, that anger still ripe on her breath. 
You thought maybe she would hit you. 
It wouldn’t be the first time that the two of you had gotten into a physical fight, volatile and wonderful as your relationship was. You did think it was unfair that this time you were so unmatched, with your hands cuffed behind your back. But she surprised you when, instead of punching you, she took her foot off your stomach completely. And then she came down to straddle you, sitting on that same sore spot above your waistband where her foot had just been. 
Oh, so it was that kind of sorry. 
This wouldn’t be the first time you and Vanessa had sex either. Frankly, you should have been expecting this. 
A lot of your arguments with Vanessa ended in fistfighting - or fucking. Sometimes a combination of both. 
She glared down the length of her body at you and you were aggravated. She wasn’t sitting low enough on your waist for you to grind yourself against her, to get any good friction where you needed it most. You whined with torment and pain as more pressure, the whole weight of her body and yours was put on your cuffed wrists and they were pushed into the ground. 
Your wrists were going to be so fucked - but you tried to make that a problem for your later self. 
You squirmed helplessly, trying to get more comfortable. Vanessa put a stop to your movements with a hand around your neck, shoving your head backwards into the pavement. You instantly stilled against the tightness of her fingers, especially as she pressed into the tender point at the side of your jaw with her thumb. 
She didn’t apply any intense pressure - as long as you sat with your head back and stayed still, she only used the touch to make you pliant and trap you there. 
She put her other hand above your head and leaned down slightly, creating a looming shadow over you as she spoke. 
“Do not ever accuse me of not caring about you.” She said, her voice still painted dark with anger. “Do you think that random guy you were fucking cared about you?” 
You knew the question was a trap. 
“No.” You said, your voice the timid one now. 
“Do you think he would give a shit if you live or die?” She asked, moving her free hand to skim her knuckles across the side of your cheek - a touch so gentle that it made you shiver. “Do you think he would give his life for yours?” 
“No.” You whimpered in return, feeling that aching need between your thighs growing more hot and prominent. 
“Do you think he would even give a fuck if he made you cum or not?” 
With these words, she reached down suddenly and - with picture perfect aim, grabbed your nipple through your shirt, giving it a harsh twist. The pain shot through you, causing you to arch up against the hold she had on your neck. This made you lightheaded, but you knew better than to keep her waiting for an answer. 
“No!” You whined out breathlessly. “No, he wouldn’t care!” 
“Exactly.” She growled out. “I care. I’m the only one who cares about you in this godforsaken world.” 
She was probably right. 
You sucked in a breath, desperate to fill your lungs when she let you go. 
You looked on with intrigue as she descended down your body. While sitting on your knees, keeping you pinned to the ground, she opened the button and zipper of your jeans. She dug her fingers into the waistband and yanked them down. 
It was a bit of a struggle with you acting as deadweight against her, becoming more dizzy as heat swelled between your legs and made you dumb between the ears. She managed to get your pants down to your midthigh before she left the fabric there. This left your bare ass scraping against the roughness of the pavement, left all of you exposed to the cool night air - open, waiting for her. 
You clenched your thighs tight together, waiting with nervous impatience as she looked down at you. Her jaw was tight, tern; her blue eyes glistening with rage and betrayal. 
“Did he cum inside of you?” She growled. 
All at once, she lifted her weight off your legs, sitting up onto her knees. She hovered above you as she put her hands on your inner thighs and ripped your legs apart - as far as they would go with the waistband of your jeans holding you in place. 
“Ness!” You protested quietly, knowing it was in vain. 
You felt open and exposed to her as she blatantly inspected you - her fingers dug in, holding tight against your squirming attempts to close your legs once again. She knew that even past your embarrassment, you were turned on by this. Blatant evidence of that came before her eyes as a bit of wetness pathetically leaked out of you, glistening in the low light for her to see, smearing across your skin as you struggled against her. 
“Stay still!” She snapped, giving a harsh smack to your inner thigh that resonated through the air, chasing air out of your lungs. You thrashed from the pain for a moment before going still upon instinct, knowing that your hole was now visibly clenching around nothing, waiting for her. “So misbehaved. Such a brat. It’s like you don’t even want me to fuck you at all.” 
She sat herself on top of you once again, sitting on your thighs right where your jeans were, causing the denim to cut into your skin as she weighed on it. She specifically barred your thighs open against the ground, and you made no protest as she placed a hand between your thighs and began touching you. She worked in slow, teasing strokes that made the muscles of your thighs quiver and made a moan get caught in the back of your throat. 
“Look at me.” She ordered - you hadn’t even realized that your head was tilting back, your body so loyal to her that the pleasure of such a simple touch from her already overwhelmed you. “Y/N. Look at me.” 
She put her free hand on your neck again, slowing down the hand that was between your thighs until she was just barely teasing her fingertips against you. She used two fingers on your jaw to force your eyes toward her, and then she put that hold back on your neck - not yet putting any pressure, but making her presence well known to you. 
You were powerless against her, perfect below her - and you knew that’s where you belonged. 
“Who’s in charge?” She demanded, her voice low, scraping against her throat in a way that made goosebumps form all over your skin. 
She was still touching you in that slow, barely there way. You swallowed down a whimper and resisted the urge to buck your hips up into her, knowing that it would only get you spanked in a very sensitive place. 
“You are.” You said, your voice cradling around the words in a very pathetic, fucked-out kind of way. 
“And who takes care of you?” She asked, ever present to remind you of this. 
“You do.” You told her. 
“Good.” She growled. 
Then she sped up her hand, her movements almost vengeful as she worked between your legs, touching you in a way that she distinctly knew would make you fall apart. 
“Ness!” You shouted, not even slightly mindful to keep quiet. If you were even slightly present mentally, you would have remembered that’s why she chose this location. She liked to hear you scream. “Oh fuck me!” 
“That’s the plan.” She chuckled. 
She worked you hard and fast, made you breathless. Your mouth gaped like a fish on land as you desperately tried to steal air into your lungs, ever mindful of the hold she had on your neck - a presence, not a hold, not yet. 
Just when your thighs were quivering and you were on the brink of orgasm, she pulled back. Before you could curse on her, she hauled her touch back from you completely and delivered a harsh, sharp spank to the most sensitive part of you. 
“Fuck!” You screamed. “Fuck you, Vanessa, I’ve been good!” You quickly argued, anger surging through you. 
You didn’t even hesitate before you gathered spit in your mouth and launched at her savagely, bitterly angry with her as the pain stung through you. You would never admit that in this state, it mixed with the pleasure in a deliriously confusing way, and might have brought you to orgasm if she had done it again too quickly. 
The glob of your spit landed on her shirt, making a small spot, and she glared down at it for a moment. She didn’t seem to pay it much mind. 
“No, you haven’t been.” She told you, her voice stern. “You need to remember how to be good.” 
She landed another spank between your legs, and as your almost-there orgasm faded from your stomach, this one stung a lot more. 
“Fuck!” You cursed again. 
“Now ask me nicely.” She demanded. “I won’t take care of some brat who doesn’t appreciate it. I’ll take care of someone who asks me nicely, and says thank you.” 
You were too far gone to argue against her. 
“Please.” You begged, tilting your head up to look at her. 
She was still so well composed, not a single hair out of place - the only evidence of sex on her being the stain you had left on her shirt and a tinge of pink coming across her cheeks from the obvious heat you were drawing out of her. 
“Please, Nessa. Please, I need it.” You begged, your voice breathy and fucked out. “I need you.” 
Those were the magic words. 
She put her hand back on you - gently, this time, and began steadily working you. 
“Oh, thank you. Thank you, thank you!” You sighed. 
You were now making a slightly sloppy sound with your own wetness as her hand moved - she pushed a steady stream of moans out of you as she worked up the rhythm. It wasn’t long before you noticed her weight shift, and felt her rubbing herself against your thigh. You loved the impressive heat coming off her cunt, even through her pants it was apparent. From the way she moved her hips with intense urgency, she needed this too. 
You felt yourself getting close again, that deadly heat curling in your gut. You knew what needed to happen, and you weren’t going to make the same mistake again. 
“Please!” You begged, breathless. “Please, Ness, let me cum!” 
“Why should I?” She growled, working her hand even faster now, vengeful as she pumped her wrist and canted her hips against your thigh. 
“Cause - cause you’re the only one who cares about me!” You replied. “Please!” 
It seemed that this was enough to satisfy her. 
“Cum for me.” She growled out. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to disobey. 
She worked you through it - part skill, part knowing from exploring your body so many times before, from being the only person who knew you like this. She moved her hand from your neck and leaned down to sink her teeth into the skin there. The feeling of her canines digging into you while you arched up as the orgasm rocked your body only made everything more dizzying. 
The sharp pain of her bite was grounding, and as your body quaked through the last aftershocks of your orgasm, you whimpered out her name. She hushed you, gently petting her hands all over you before she soothed her tongue over the stinging bite. 
“It’s okay.” She whispered into your neck. “It’s gonna be okay.” 
After a few moments of stillness, Vanessa helped pull your pants up, silently admiring the mess you had made all over your own thighs. And then - she sat you up and unlocked the cuffs. Your wrists were incredibly sore and raw in some places from the metal cutting into your skin, but neither of you said anything about it. 
She opened the door for you to get into the front seat, and wordlessly, she drove you home. When you used your key for the front door, you left it open - a silent invitation for her to come inside after you, and she sighed loudly before doing so. 
That night, she slept in your bed. Both of you pretended that everything was okay. 
You and Vanessa were both very broken people. That wasn’t going to change anytime soon. You showed that brokenness in very different ways, and ultimately, she probably handled it a lot better than you did. 
But one thing would always be true - she took care of you, no matter what.
...
If you enjoyed this work, you are heavily encouraged to share it by reblogging or leave a comment (or an ask) telling me what you enjoyed about it! Commenting and reblogging goes a long way to encouraging writers and fuelling future works!
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tenpintsof-sundrop · 6 months
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FNAF Movie Requests - CLOSED
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Requests CLOSED as of November 16th, 2023.
(Requests are now closed, and I am keeping this request form up in case I have need for this again.)
So, I highly resisted the urge to fall into the fanfiction hole with the Five Nights At Freddy's Movie characters, but here I am lmao. Josh Hutcherson is so wonderfully sat, wet, and pathetic and I can't help myself.
I have tweaked my prompt list for this fandom, and you don't have to use these prompts when requesting fics, but please keep in mind that I am more likely to write and complete a request if it is simplistic and can be written in a shorter fic. I aim to keep request fics under two thousand words (around three thousand words at most).
Characters I write for: Mike Schmidt, Vanessa Monroe (Afton), and William Afton (Steve Raglan). (I may also write platonic fics with animatronic characters if people want to see that?)
Note: I will be writing for the movie version of the characters, but because I am a fan of the games, I am not against making references to the games and playing around with the canonicity. I care much more about the themes of the games than any solid sense of canon.
Requests can be sent to my ask box here or to my ask box over on my writing blog @sundrop-writes - I am probably not going to get to requests right away because unfortunately I am feeling sick right now, but I wanted to post this request form to help me get inspired. Please read all the rules/guidelines below before sending in a request.
(More information below the cut - please read it before requesting.) 
(Also - warning, this prompt list technically does have some mild spoilers for the movie.)
I will accept requests for poly ships. (Character x reader x character.) I love requests like this - I think for this fandom, the only one that really works is Vanessa x Reader x Mike (which is one that I would really love to do), but under certain circumstances, with the right request, I might write Mike x Reader x William.
In your request, please specify if the reader character is female, male, or gender neutral. When I write gender neutral fics, I do not describe what kind of genitals they have in any way, so I don’t write ‘GN AFAB’ reader fics. If you want the reader character to have a vagina, that would be a fem reader in my fics. 
EDIT: Typically, I don't write for reader characters that have specific traits - like a specific race, height, described as having specific looks, etc. but my one exception to this rule is that I love writing plus sized/fat reader fics. I love spreading love for fat bodies, especially through fics, and I love making people feel good about their fatness through the gaze of a fictional character. So feel free to send in requests for a plus sized reader character, it's one of my favourite things to write!
I will write smut, angst, or fluff, but I mostly prefer writing smut or angst. When requesting smut, please specify if you want the characters to be dominant or submissive. In your request, write ‘sub!reader’ or ‘dom!reader’ or something like this to let me know. I am a big fan of writing submissive men, so know I don’t shy away from that, but I will write any dynamic as long as it’s properly communicated to me. 
I will for a lot of dark topics and different kinks. In general, the list of things that I won’t write is a lot shorter than the list of that I will. So if you’re wondering if a request is okay with me or not, just ask!
Just for reference, my big no-nos are: virgin!reader, sexually inexperienced!reader, or innocent!reader - I am okay with doing a ‘faux’ innocent reader or writing about the canon character being a virgin and having their first sexual experience with the reader. I am okay with writing about sexual cocercion, sexual blackmail, or dubcon.
Also, I don’t write fics about miscarriages, safeword use, or extreme choking kink. While I don’t write about miscarriage, I am okay with writing about pregnancy (and it’s something I enjoy writing about). 
Smut Prompts/Ideas: 
The canon character is a virgin (ex: virgin!Mike) 
“Just the tip.” 
Stuck and Fucked/Situational Bondage 
Hate Fucking 
There Was Only One Bed
Caught Masturbating 
“Can you teach me how to do (blank)?” (ex: “Can you teach me how to give someone an orgasm?” “Can you teach me how to perform oral?”) 
Late Night Semi-Public Sex (bathroom sex, kitchen counter sex, etc.) where they shove a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet (or purposefully try to make you scream) 
Overstimulation 
Breeding Kink (or Faux Breeding Kink with a Strap-On) 
Extreme Dirty Talk
Phone Sex
Underwear Stealing
Them taking dirty pictures of you
Unknown surveillance/Perv!Canon Character/Them getting off to you doing something mundane
Dumbification Kink/Objectification 
Daddy Kink or Mommy Kink (their reaction to being called Daddy or Mommy for their first time) 
Them masturbating to the thought of you 
(There is more kinks that I enjoy writing, but this is just all that I thought to add to this list) 
Angst Prompts/Ideas: 
(You should definitely send in some of these, I love writing angst but people don’t request it as often. I will even write hurt/comfort just to write the angst part, so you can send in a hurt/comfort request if you prefer.) 
They break up with you to keep you away from danger (this one would work really well with Vanessa)
Attending to their injuries after a fight (or, them attending to your injuries after a fight) 
You are attacked (verbally or physically) and they step in to save you 
Their reaction to you being killed/your death (bonus angst: you died before they got to confess their feelings to you) 
One of you has been brainwashed and completely forgets the other 
(Directly inspired by the movie) - you are in a coma and they confess their feelings for you thinking that you can't hear them
They save you from a near-death experience (or you save them) 
They find out you are alive after thinking you had died 
Being reunited after years, but you didn’t part on good terms 
“Who did this to you?” 
Unrequited Love (they see you with someone else, they think that you’ll never love them back, etc.) 
(For hurt/comfort, I can do any of these with a sappy ending!) 
Fluff Ideas/Prompts:
They confess their love for you
Your first kiss together  
They surprise you with a cute date 
(I am really stalled for ideas for this list, I suck at writing pure fluff lmao)
(Again, you don’t have to use these prompts, I just think that these are good examples of things that will fit the 1k-2k mark.)
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justsomerandomfanfic · 6 months
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Wrapping Paper - Mike Schmidt X Female Reader
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Title: Wrapping Paper
Mike Schmidt X Female Reader
Additional Characters: Abby
WC: 2,449
Warnings: The incident at Freddy's mentioned, post FNAF movie, pining, Mike's nervous, sort of idiots in love, teasing, flirting?, ~hand holding~, mini angst, and fluff
It was Abby's birthday, and Mike still didn't have a present for her. For weeks he had been looking around craft stores when he could before heading to work or after - having found a well-paying job that he hadn't been fired from yet. But even after weeks of searching, he still had nothing to give her. Mike had probably been to the craft stores more than a dozen times at this point, checking the clearance items for anything that he thought Abby would like. But, the clearance section was a small rack at the back of the shop that had half-empty boxes of crayons from unruly children taking them in the store, scribbled on notebooks, and so on. This was all he was able to afford too, he'd go to great lengths for Abby, but it saddened him that he couldn't even afford brand-new supplies like the sixty-four pack of crayons or a nice big notebook for drawing. 
Tapping absentmindedly on the wheel of his car, Mike drove home yet again empty-handed. Pulling up to his house, Mike let out a sigh as he leaned back against the seat of his car, shutting his eyes briefly before raising his arm and reading his watch. Getting out of the car, he grabbed his backpack and headed inside. Dropping his back off into his room, Mike went to the kitchen to start making dinner before Abby came home from school. But just as he was putting the spaghetti noodles in the pot of water, there was a knock at the door. 
Shutting off the stove, Mike brushed his hands on his jeans before making his way to the front door. Opening the door, he was pleasantly surprised to see you standing before him. You had a smile on your face, and you were holding a large box wrapped in colorful paper.
"Hello, Mike," You greeted him, tilting your head to the side slightly as your grin became more of a nervous one, "I hope I'm not too early," Shuffling the present under your arm, you pulled out the folded invitation from the front pocket of your jeans. The plain piece of printer paper doodled with little pictures of what you had assumed were you, Mike, and Abby, along with the date and time of Abby’s little birthday celebration. "It says three, but I thought that maybe you might need help setting things up?"
"Oh, yeah, yeah, sure," Mike stumbled out, moving to the side to let you in. Mike watched as you placed the present on the table, dropping your bag beside it. 
You had been Mike's neighbor for the past year, recently moving in only a couple of weeks after the incident over at Freddy's. He remembered the day he met you vividly, watching Abby ride her bike up and down the sidewalk as your car pulled into the previous vacant house beside his. Stepping out of your Jeep Grand Cherokee, he watched as you opened the back of the car to begin carrying boxes into your new home. Gaining the courage after watching you struggle to unlock the front door with two cardboard boxes in your arms, Mike rushed over. 
Fumbling with your keys as you tried to unlock the door, shuffling the boxes to rest on your arm and propped-up knee as strands of your hair fell in front of your face. The way you smiled at him, grateful as he took the two boxes out of your straining arms, helping you move the rest of your boxes and furniture in. Breathily, you thanked him, offering to bake him cookies or something for him and his sister, and from then on, you, Mike, and Abby would spend a lot of time together.
You'd come over for dinner sometimes, Abby adored you, always asking about you and drawing pictures of you with her and her brother. You do the very same, inviting the two to come over for lunch or dinner, or to play board games, or to watch movies. 
Mike couldn't help but be attracted to you, ever since he watched you pull into your driveway. He didn't say anything though, pushing those rapidly growing feelings to the back of his mind, in fear of ruining the amazing friendship that you and him shared. Sometimes Mike would have to stop himself from staring at you across the table during dinners. His heart would race when he saw you spending time with Abby - seeing both of your smiling faces always brought warmth to his chest, and his breath would hitch slightly at the sound of your laugh. But he deeply cared about the friendship between you two, and wouldn't ruin the good relationship by doing anything stupid. So he held his tongue. And for the most part, you did the same thing.
Turning around to face Mike, he swiftly snapped out of the daze he had been in, meeting your eyes as you smiled at him, "So, what can I help you with? Do you need help with decorations or maybe a cake?"
Scratching his cheek, Mike shrugged a shoulder, looking around the room, "Uh, I don't have any decorations. I was about to start making the spaghetti when you arrived." He spoke, watching as you simply nodded, making your way into his kitchen. "I- I totally forgot about the cake… I’ve been so busy…" He finished, a bit embarrassed at his realization.
Noticing the pot of lukewarm water and the opened box of spaghetti noodles, you hummed to yourself before looking through the cupboards. Mike followed, leaning against the entrance of the kitchen, watching as you pulled out a small bag of flour, sugar, and a small circular pan. "Well," You huffed, a bit out of breath as you pulled out a large plastic bowl from the lower cupboards. "At least you still have some of the ingredients from our last bake day." As you began to start making the homemade cake, you glanced over at Mike, whose gaze was staring down at the floor at his feet. "You alright, Mikey?" You asked, gaining his attention.
Looking up, he let out a deep sigh, shaking his head as he pushed off the wall, "I haven't been able to find Abby a present. I've been looking for weeks but I still can't find anything for her."
You paused, pouring some flour into the bowl, looking over at the man as he began to pace the room slightly, "You couldn't find anything?" You asked, raising your eyebrows as Mike nodded his head.
"Nothing! I checked two craft stores every day after work for like three weeks." He explained, rubbing his hand over his forehead, "But I can't seem to find anything that isn't damaged or just something I think she'll like." Stopping his pacing, Mike's shoulders dropped as he let out a sigh, "I really am trying my best, y'know. It's frustrating." He admitted, glancing over at you as you turned around to look at him.
"You are doing your best, Mike," You spoke softly, slowly stirring the flour and other dry ingredients together, "And you know that Abby knows that and that she loves you." Pausing you glanced at him with a small reassuring smile, "I don't think Abby will care if you gave her a present or not, just you spending time with her, celebrating her birthday, is enough for her."
Mike nodded and walked over to stand next to you, watching you as you began to crack the eggs into a separate bowl, "You're right..."
"As always," You sang, unable to stop the grin on your face. Mike looked down at you, softly smiling to himself as you began to hum some song you liked or probably had stuck in your head. Looking up at him, your grin softened as you noticed Mike already looking at you, making your cheeks burn as you quickly looked back down at the dismantled cake ingredients in front of you. "Want to help me maybe, Mr. Schmidt?" You asked, using the remaining courage you had left to give him one last glance.
Nodding, Mike smiled lightly and picked up a whisk, beginning to help you with the mixing. He felt his heart flutter, and his mind wondered, but it faded as he began to focus on the task at hand.
It didn't take long though before the cake was finished, baked, and topped with vanilla icing and colorful candles; unlit and ready for the birthday girl. You and Mike were finishing up the spaghetti, you were working on the sauce while Mike made the meatballs. You bit your lip as you chuckled, watching as Mike almost lost his grip on the spatula he was using to roll the cooking meatballs around in the pan. Looking over at you, Mike felt his stomach twist, seeing the amused smile on your face, "What?" He questioned, glancing from you to the pan and back.
Smiling to yourself, you shook your head, "Nothing. Just enjoying my time with you, is all," Pouring the pasta sauce into a pot and putting on the lid, you leaned against the countertop to look at Mike. 
Biting the skin on the inside of his cheek, Mike turned off the stove, meeting your gaze, "Look, Y/N..." He hesitated, swallowing hard as he looked away. He was quiet for a moment before sighing and taking a step closer to you. "Thank you... For coming here today." He mumbled, his voice soft and gentle. That's not what he was meaning to say, though he did really appreciate you helping him. 
"Mikey, you don't have to thank me," You reached over to place your hand on top of his, "I'd do anything for you and Abby." You replied quietly, giving his hands a soft squeeze.
Slowly, Mike flipped over his hand, now palm to palm, he intertwined his fingers with yours, bringing your hands to his lips so he could place a light kiss on top of yours before returning your hand to the counter as the front door opened and slammed shut. 
"Mike! I'm home!" Abby called out, dropping her backpack on the ground near the door, immediately spying the brightly-colored wrapped present on the table; a smile lit up on her face. Exiting the kitchen, a warm sensation flowed throughout Mike's body as you pulled your hand away from his, greeting the young girl whose smile widened at the sight of you, "Y/N!" She cheered, rushing into your arms.
Chuckling softly, you returned the hug, pulling away after a few seconds, "Hey, Abs," Pulling away from each other, crouched down as you held her by her upper arms, "Look at you... How old are you now? Twenty-Five?" You joked, making the girl laugh as she shook her head.
"No! I'm eleven!" She told you while laughing, making you nod your head and stand back up.
"Of course, how silly of me." Turning back around to Mike, you paused, seeing that he was still standing there, watching you interact with Abby; a fondness evident in his eyes. Looking back down at the girl, you smiled at her, "So, are you hungry? We made spaghetti." She nodded her head eagerly, sitting down at the table, her eyes staring at the present in the middle of the table; her eyes sparkling. You smiled, walking back into the kitchen where Mike was already plating Abby's food. Pulling out two extra plates, you began plating yours and Mike's, peeking over at Mike who seemed to be becoming more and more nervous as he spooned spaghetti on the plate. Bumping your hip with his, you caught his eye, "You'll be fine. I have a plan." You whispered with a small grin, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his stubbly cheek before bringing yours and Mike's plate to the table. Mike blinked, slowly walking over to the table, his cheeks tinged pink as he sat beside you.
Soon enough, the both of you were singing 'Happy Birthday' to Abby as Mike sat the cake down on the table in front of her. The candles, lit and aflame, flickered before being blown out, applause erupting from you and Mike as Abby made her wish after her birthday song. Chuckling softly to himself, Mike leaned forward on his forearms, "What did you wish for, Abs?"
Rolling her eyes, she shook her head, "I can't tell you, silly."
Shaking his head in amusement, "Alright then. Cake or presents?" He then asked as you readied the cake knife and three small plates for the cake. 
"Presents!" Abby declared, beaming as Mike let out a small huff, smiling as he turned to you; you could see the nervousness in his eyes as he looked over at you.
Picking up the present, Mike moved the cake out of the way as you placed the present in its place, "Here you go, Abs," You spoke, gesturing for her to go ahead and open her gift. Mike watched beside you as Abby ripped the colorful wrapping paper off the cardboard box, pulling off the tape with amazing speed. He felt tense, hoping that she wouldn't hate him for not getting her a gift. Before his mind could run off anymore, he felt your hand cover his and he lifted his gaze to meet yours. Smiling at him, you squeezed his hand which made Mike's breath hitch as he felt an odd feeling well up inside his chest. Taking a deep breath, he gave you a small smile before turning back to Abby who gasped in shock.
"Oh my gosh!" She exclaimed, peering inside the box at the many goodies that were found within, looking up at you, she gave you a huge smile, "Thank you, Y/N!"
Mirroring her smile, you waved a hand, "Don't forget your brother, he helped pick out a couple of the items," Mike turned to look at you in surprise, causing you to chuckle under your breath.
Abby got out of her seat, rushing around to hug her brother tightly, "Thank you, Mike!" She thanked him, grinning widely at him.
"Anything for you, Abs," He said, patting her on the back. He turned to you as Abby went back to sit back down, digging around in the box; pulling out craft supplies, stuffed animals, and candy. Mike couldn't help but look at you with an awestruck expression on his face; this girl was too good to be true. "Thank you, Y/N."
Resting your cheek in your hand, you gave him your stunning smile, "Don't mention it."
Shaking his head slightly, Mike looked back at Abby who was already drawing with her new multi-colored markers in her brand-new notebook. 
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tinycozycomfort · 5 months
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some quiet evenings
pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader
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summary: If he wasn’t so far away all the time, working and worrying and wracked with undeserving guilt, you’d disassemble him completely—down to the fucking marrow.
warnings/tags: no use of y/n, sub!mike, the tone? they're in love, underwear play, c*ck grinding, finger sucking, pet names (baby, honey, etc), the socks stay on, criminally gratuitous descriptions of how good-looking this man is
word count: 2k
rating: explicit! 18+ only, mdni
a/n: huge thank you to @cupofjoel for these amazing fics that were a direct contributor to me watching the movie (and then subsequently falling into a lore hole) and to @pascalisbaby for listening to me fumble my way through this!!
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Mike is always tired when he gets home. 
Tired like the weight of his body is too much to bear, eyes wet and just-open like a seam that’s freshly split. He hangs at the end of his own rope, slumped on the line of his spine, damp across his brow as he sits and undresses at the corner of the bed. 
You don’t question him when he says it’s nothing, when he mumbles something about work being a lot of pressure and just needing to make it through the end of the week. For something so mundane—watching unwanted property—it seems off; still you kneel at his back to help him shrug off the lip of his vest and hoodie and creased t-shirt with nothing more than a sigh.
“Didn’t mean to put this on you. I know you work as much as I do—more, even,” his head lolls down towards his lap, fingers sweeping his face as he shrinks with guilt, “I just need to figure out some money for another babysitter so I can actually sleep and you can actually see me and—” 
“It’s okay. Don’t know how many times I’ll have to tell you before you believe me.” 
He works at the clasp of his pants before you can—another thing he feels the need to take responsibility for, right now—bending at the waist enough to pool them at his ankles, socked feet tapping the ground inside their halos. Nervous, like always, high-strung and erratic for reasons you can’t begin to pull out of him. 
“And everything with Abby, she just… I worry about her.” 
“She’s asleep down the hall. Got her to eat and everything. You need to worry about yourself, too, y’know.” You widen your thighs, straddling the base of his hips, left hand curling to cradle the strip of skin between his shoulder and neck. He’s warm there, too, tacky and tense when you tuck your pointer up against his jaw. “Look at me, Mike.” 
He refuses at first, pushing back against your guidance, reserve strong in the face of shame.
In return, you press harder into him, doubling down, dimpling the underside of his chin in an effort to halt his retreat.
“No,” he whispers, insistent. 
Something hot swirls in the core of your spine at his defiance, as small as it is loud, the corner of your lip tugging up in response. He can’t see you, hiding like this, but it’s like he can feel it, knocking a shoulder up to shield himself even more. 
He likes this game, you’ve realized—where you let him have his fit just to reel him back in, to prove to him he’s wrong. That special kind of attention to detail—the laborious care of taking the time to peel back his doubts to get to the tender meat of his heart, just to string up your favorite pieces of him as you go. Declarations is maybe the most correct way to put it; he likes to earn the kind of love he can hang on the fridge.
You lean in behind him, cheek brushing the hair at his temple, and his guise falters, body unfurling on instinct. What a sweet man he is, naked save for the rings of fabric on and at his feet, the thin veil of his boxers—the latter failing to hide his own interest. Opening for you like he needs to.
You drag your nose across his lobe, the flesh there raising in little welts, “You do know how much I worry about you, right? How much I want you to relax? Don’t you want that, too?” 
He swallows hard, wrist twisting in his lap—restraint, you think, or warning; Mike, ever-courteous, letting you know he’s reached his threshold, fizzing over the top. 
“What do you think I could do to make you feel better, honey?” You run the bend of your free hand along his inner thigh, chest flush to his back so you can reach the fold of his knee. 
Mike shudders, short puffs of air jutting out of his open mouth. The grip you have on his neck tilts, wrapping your thumb over the knob of his jaw, longer fingers spreading out so you can curve one between his lips. He licks at it, tongue soft where he sucks you in, skipping the gentle work-up to get to his favorite part—more tired than you thought, then.
“I don’t want to have to choose for you, but I will.” You rub the inside of his cheek like you can coax the words out, “C’mon.” 
“You could—I want, fuck. I want to be inside you.” 
The papery t-shirt clinging to your back stretches, looped material around your hips tacked down by the trickle of slick that seeps out at his words. You were ready for bed when he arrived,  more thankful than ever to have nothing else between you and his body, now that he’s ready for something else.
You drag your wandering hand across where he’s straining, hot and heavy, his only reaction a gentle tug of teeth on your knuckle, a too-deep inhale that inflates his chest. Mike’s hands sit limp where they’re glued to his thighs, waiting patiently for your next instruction, seeing if you’ve decided to grant him his request. 
It’s not until you wedge your hand free to toy at the waistband of his boxers that he sets into motion, raising off the sheets and letting you strip him of his last shred of modesty, just the slouched cuffs of his socks left clinging to him.
His cock is hard—angry—coming down on his stomach with a dull thud, a sticky pull of precome following in its wake. The muscle under his torso jumps at the impact like he forgot it was even there, too focused on what’s coming next, sold on the prospect of something better. 
You guide a leg down the slope of the bed, planting yourself on the floor by his side. He takes the hint, pushing himself higher up on the sheets and resting his weight on the flat of his elbows behind him, quick to obey.
You take your time climbing along him, bracketing him from the front this time so you can take in the full image of his want. He’s flushed across his cheeks, his neck—even the little reliefs in the skin under his eyes are touched by pink. Lips shining, hair clumped with wet at the root—he’s the kind of beautiful he doesn’t even know he’s capable of, sleepy and misty and shaky when you run your fingers against his jaw—still damp from his own mouth—marveling at the rounded edges that find their way in his angular face. 
If he wasn’t so far away all the time, working and worrying and wracked with undeserving guilt, you’d disassemble him completely—down to the fucking marrow. Clip him off at every joint just to piece him back together. 
“Pretty,” you mumble, mostly to yourself, but you know he hears it when he preens, eyes fluttering and chest squeezing tight in a long exhale.
You loop a thumb through the center of your underwear, swinging it out to fit his cock in with you, settling into his lap more firmly so that the split of your cunt presses against him. He’s trapped there, between your heat and his belly, the whine that slips out of him involuntary but solid. 
When you start to move, working up a rhythm, he spits out something like fuck, fuck yes and you nod to feign understanding.
“Oh, is this what you meant? You wanted to be inside here?” You rock into his hips with purpose, the thick shape of him rubbing at your clit like it’s all he was made for, like being inside you wouldn’t even be an idea if he couldn’t take care of you in every other way first. 
“No.” 
“First yes, now no? You have to make your mind up, baby. You’re not giving me enough to work with, here.”
“Yes. This is–yes.” 
He starts to meet you halfway without thinking, grinding up into the cradle of your body in search of a better way to communicate than words. 
“So you don’t want to fuck me?” 
Mike whines at that, the breakout of red reaching the very edges of his face, bleeding down into his collarbones. He regains some sense of his own body, then, hands fumbling up until they slot above the crease of your thigh, rubbing firmly at your hip bones. Pleading.
You tuck your knees into his side to help him along, ribs stinging where your efforts begin to hurt, happy anyway to push him closer to the edge. A thick lick of heat rises in your chest, the seat of your pelvis, flaring white when you watch him fight for something to say.
“I do—I did, I just. This is perfect. You’re perfect.” He’s panting in between each word, pressing himself to you to punctuate his point, “I’m going to come just like this, if you’ll let me.” 
It’s not so spelled out, but he is asking for permission—as he always does—and it sounds like an apology more than anything else. For being selfish, you know he’ll say; for taking his pleasure exactly like you’d asked him to.
You swipe at the curls that are starting to twist at the base of his neck, both for leverage so you can match his pace and to point out another facet of him that falls perfectly into your liking, the glide easier with how much you’ve coated him in that same favor. 
The hand you’d hooked into him earlier finds his lips again, slipping in with no resistance, passing harshly against his molars and tongue. 
Mike is eager to glean as much fondness as he can off the skin, closing his mouth and sucking fervently. 
“Go ahead, then. Said you needed to relax, didn’t I? We’ve got all morning.”
Something flashes in his eyes that reads horribly like but what about work?, as if now would be the time to worry over your schedule—as if anything could be more important than the way his cock swells in anticipation despite the thought. 
You redirect the anxiety, not wanting his orgasm to fall flat after all the convincing it took to lead him here, “You have all morning to make it up to me.”
His grip around your middle tightens, suffocatingly so, brows drawing tight, tilting his head so he can take in more of your fingers to slide his tongue against the underside of your palm as he comes in warm threads of slip. 
He makes a mess of your chests and the already soaked-through film of your underwear, legs shaking under you as he breathes his way down. 
You release yourself from him with a pop, squeezing lightly at his cheek as he cracks a meek smile. 
“Thank you,” he murmurs, freshly shy like he hadn’t been aware of what just occurred, so inside his mind he’d left his body, “I didn’t mean to not be able to, um—” 
“Fuck me?” 
He’s fully glowing by now, this time because of the weight of your accusation, loosening a little only when he sees you grinning back at him. You lean in, pecking at the corner of his mouth to not interrupt his irregular breaths, allowing him just a moment of error before appealing to the side of him that rids him of his nerves, “Get to it, then, if you’re so worried about it.”
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raspberryera · 6 months
Text
The Fall | 3
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Pairing: Vanessa Shelly x Reader
Warnings: Smut, fingering, and oral
Summary: Vanessa drives you home.
Word Count: 3.8k
Authors Note: Thank you so much for 100 likes! This is my first time writing smut so it's pretty short so please let me know if I should make another part!
Several hours had passed since Vanessa's arrival, and as you kept watch on the cameras, she quietly worked on some leftover paperwork. Her presence in the room was silent yet undeniable, her body language professional and composed but with a hint of flirtatiousness that filled you with anticipation as you waited for the shift to finish. As you continued to monitor the cameras, you couldn't help but notice her occasional glances at you, your eyes often shifting towards hers.
The clock on your desk read 4:47 am and you could feel the fatigue slowly creeping up on you, the tiredness slowly overpowering your desire to spend your shift in Vanessa's company. Despite your desire to be at home and rest, something inside you was drawn back to her, and you found yourself unable to peel your eyes away from her. You were aware that your gaze towards Vanessa was bordering on inappropriate given the context of your relationship, though something about her presence and flirtatious mannerisms made it difficult to look away. You knew you probably shouldn't be gawking at a "friend" the way you were, but you couldn't help it anyway, your eyes unwillingly drifting back towards her at every opportunity.
Vanessa saw your glances out of the corner of her eye, and she couldn't help but smile at the fact that you had your eyes on her. She enjoyed the attention that you were giving her.
A bit more time had passed and you checked the clock, which now read 5:58 am as your shift was almost over. You let out a sigh of relief at the realization.
You had unexpectedly remembered that you didn't have a ride home, and with your shift coming to an end very soon, you decided to approach Vanessa and ask her for a ride home, hoping that she would willingly oblige.
"Hey," you said, breaking the momentary standstill between you two.
"Hm?" she hummed at your gentle interruption, her tone somewhat inquisitive.
"Umm... my friend had dropped me off at work," you said, pausing momentarily as you thought about how to phrase your question. "He can't drive me home, so I was wondering if it would be possible for you to drive me home instead?"
"Ah, I see," Vanessa said, her tone mildly amused. She gave you a small grin before responding, "Of course I can give you a ride home. I'm heading that way anyway, and I wouldn't want you stuck here after your long shift." She then paused and gently added, "I guess I have an excuse to spend some more time with you now, do I?"
"I suppose so," you replied, a tinge of embarrassment mixing with the anticipation of spending more time with her.
Vanessa pushed her chair back and stood up, grabbing the stack of paperwork in front of her. "Let's go," she said, you could make out the excitement in her tone when she added, "I can't wait to get home and finally rest."
"Same here," you replied, laughing slightly, standing up from your seat as well. A small blush formed on your face, although it was more due to their growing anticipation of spending more time with Vanessa than to her sudden standing up.
As you both exited the building, the late night air hit you and the silence between you two became more noticeable, but in it, the tension and excitement of the moment was palpable, the prospect of spending more time with Vanessa giving way to a growing anticipation of spending the ride back with her as you walked side by side across the deserted parking lot.
"Do you think I can ride shotgun?" you joked playfully, causing Vanessa to giggle at your humorous response. "I don't think my ego could handle riding in the back of a cop car," you added with a teasing grin.
Vanessa let out a small giggle at your playful banter. As you both continued towards her patrol car, she gave you a playful smile before responding, "Of course you can ride shotgun.” She gave you another cheeky grin as she added, "I don't blame you for avoiding the backseat."
You both made it to the car, Vanessa leading the way towards the passenger side. She reached out for the passenger door to open it for you. You quickly got into the car nodding, silently thanking her. Your hands accidentally brushing against Vanessa's for a short moment before you settled into the seat, your body suddenly heated up at the brief physical contact.
She made her way around the vehicle, slowly circling around to the driver's side. You felt your heart skip a beat as she finally entered into the driver's side, your eyes following her every movement as your body tingled with excitement at the sudden proximity you found yourself in with her.
Vanessa shot you a soft smile as she turned on the engine and put the car into reverse, her eyes meeting yours as she backed out of her parking space. "So," she spoke up, attempting to start a conversation to lessen the tension of the closed space. Vanessa's nervousness at the closeness between the two of you was evident. "What do you usually do after you get off your shift?" she asked, hoping her question would break the awkwardness.
"Well, the obvious answer would be sleep, but sometimes that just doesn't work out," you replied with a light laugh, trying downplay your nervousness. You shrugged and looked over her way as you asked, "How about you?" You shifted slightly in your seat, the closeness between the two of you starting to affect your nerves.
She gave you a small smile. Each passing second she was becoming conscious of the closeness between the two of you. She let out a soft sigh of exasperation as she replied, "I guess that makes two of us, huh? My sleep schedule's all out of wack; I hardly feel tired after my shift at all."
"Really? You're not tired after your long shift?" You asked slightly shocked.
Her head shook back and forth. "Nope, I'm not, surprisingly." A small smile grew on her lips, making it obvious that she wasn't tired in the slightest, which caused you to tilt your head slightly.
"Honestly, I'm not that tired either," you confessed after giving Vanessa a brief glance, your gaze then moving to the road before you. She responded with a light chuckle and a small shrug as she continued to drive, the slight tension from earlier now relieved, the both of you now feeling a bit more relaxed and comfortable.
"Well, that makes two of us, then," Vanessa responded, her teasing glance towards you shifting into a seductive smirk as she continued to drive. "I can think of some ways we can spend our time together." She says teasing you, her eyes remaining fixed on the road.
"I'm sure you can," you responded in a lighthearted tone, teasing Vanessa right back with your reply before your gaze turned back towards the road.
"Oh, you have no idea," Vanessa replied, a smirk growing on her lips. Blush creeped onto your face shocked by her words. She seemed to thrive on your continued response to her teasing.
As you glanced at the road, you noticed that you were nearing your house, Vanessa pulling into your street as she drove on.
She pulled up in front of your house, parking the car before shifting her gaze towards you and speaking, "Want me to walk you to your door?" Her voice was soft yet playful as she gave you a knowing smirk, her words filled with an underlying layer of flirtation as she waited for your response, her eyes remaining fixed on you as she awaited your next move.
"I'd actually like that," you responded, your gaze fixated on Vanessa, your heart beating slightly faster as you took in her knowing smirk.
There was an unspoken tension between the two of you, your mind now filled with the anticipation of what exactly would happen next, if anything would.
You and Vanessa both exit the car, walking side by side up the pathway leading to your front door, the two of you remaining close together as your heart rate begins to increase. The two of you now mere inches apart, your mind flooding with thoughts and images of what exactly might happen once you set foot in the threshold of your front door.
You quickly shook your head away from your thoughts as you reached the front door. Your fingers grasped the handle and turned it, slightly opening it while returning your focus to Vanessa.
There was a moment of silence that lingered in the air, the tension between you two growing thicker with each passing second. You held the door open, your gaze meeting hers and your heart beating rapidly as you looked into her eyes. The desire to jump into Vanessa's arms and kiss her was nearly overwhelming.
You had opened your mouth to speak, to thank her, but Vanessa unexpectedly took control by placing her hands on your face and pulling you in close, her lips crashing fiercely against yours as she fulfilled both of your desires. The kiss was passionate, the pent-up feelings and emotions being released like a dam bursting open. There was no holding back, the overwhelming confirmation that Vanessa had felt the same for you, her lips soft and tasting of blueberry chapstick, her body heat rising with a feverish passion at the intensity of your kiss.
You were intoxicated by the kiss, and Vanessa's expertise in kissing proved to be almost overwhelming, her lips and mannerisms almost too good to be true. As your hands moved from the door to her hips, she pulled slightly back from the kiss to catch her breath and rested her forehead against yours, the two of you locked in a haze of passion as your head swirled with the intensity of the kiss and the closeness of Vanessa.
“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Vanessa says, practically panting out, due to being out a breath.
Her words catch you off guard, your face flushed and pulse racing at Vanessa's confession. You weren't sure what to say, your body still recovering from the shock of the kiss and your stomach full of butterflies at the boldness of Vanessa's words. Her panting breaths a sign of her own excitement and arousal. Her bold confession only made the butterflies in your stomach even flap harder.
Her playful demeanor was evident as she leaned back in towards you, her lips connecting forcefully with yours. The kiss became more intense and sloppy - and wet, which now wasn’t the only wet thing.
Vanessa pulled her body closer to yours, her movements becoming more deliberate as she drew you further backward and deeper into the confines of the doorway. Her lips pressed more forcefully against yours, the intimacy and closeness causing the heat to rise rapidly between the two of you. You felt the flood of passion start to overtake your senses, Vanessa's actions leading the way as she pulled you backward towards her, your mind becoming more fuzzy and disoriented due to the intoxicating aroma of her kiss.
As you stumbled backwards into your entryway, she smoothly shut the door behind the both of you with one hand, never taking her lips off yours. She momentarily pulled back to catch her breath. She breathed in heavily to compensate for her rapid breathing and the rise in her heart rate, while maintaining a firm grip on you, her strong hands now clutching your body close, you let out a gasp as she presses you against the door.
As the passion continues to build between the two of you, Vanessa's actions become more deliberate and intense, her hold on you growing tighter and her kisses becoming more forceful as your body begins to react with the sensations of her touch. Her lips press against your own in a fierce display of lust and her tongue begins to enter your mouth, the heat and tension steadily rising as you both lose control. Your breaths becoming louder and more intense as her hands roam your body.
Her hand slowly found its way to your chest, her long fingers gently circling your skin and caressing your tit though your shirt. Her touch was light and tentative at first, but you could feel it growing in fervor and intensity as she moved upwards, her fingers starting to probe and caress your tits as your arms found their way around her neck, leaning into her touch. The intensity of your actions matching the growing heat between the both of you.
The kisses shared between the both of you became more, and more desperate. Your desire for her growing immensely.
You dragged Vanessa, still in the heat of the moment, towards your bedroom, your bodies stumbling a bit as you both kissed, but neither of you cared at this point. It had felt like you had waited for this moment your whole life, and you couldn’t believe it was happening.
As you entered your bedroom, Vanessa pushed you onto the bed, climbing on top of you and smirking down at you. Her newfound position at the forefront of your shared intimate moment giving her control. You had let out a gasp at her movements as you looked up at her.
Vanessa leaned down and gave your lips another lingering kiss, she softly spoke to you, "Hmm, I can’t tell you have many times I've imagined this; you below me," she whispered with a hint of seduction in her voice. She hoped her words would get a reaction out of you.
“Yeah? What exactly did you think about?” You asked, trying to fake your confidence, while deep down you were nervous. Your face heating up slightly, awaiting her response.
She leaned in towards you again, as she whispered, "I thought about how many ways I could please you."
Your eyes widened as you heard her words, and your voice grew thick with lust and desire as you whispered back, "Well, shall we try them out?" Vanessa nodded, as she leaned in further and began leaving wet and sloppy kisses down your neck, you let out a sigh of pleasure.
Vanessa's hands slowly traveled down to the hem of your shirt, her hands gripping it gently as she looked back at you, silently asking for permission to remove it. Your face flushed as you nodded your head, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.
She pulled your shirt up slowly, her hands slipping between the fabric and your body as you sat up slightly to allow her to pull the shirt over your head.
Vanessa tossed your shirt into a corner of the room, unconcerned on where it would end up, leaving you in your bra. She took time to admire your chest and how it moved up and down as you breathed.
"God, you're so hot," Vanessa breathed out, still admiring you as she let your figure and shape sink into her mind.
You felt your body grow slightly flush at her words, and you responded saying, "You're not too bad yourself."
Vanessa leaned back in, gently kissing you at first. Her hands freely roamed your body, desiring to touch every last inch of it, both of your bodies now heating up (even more) as you responded with the same passion, your fingers running through Vanessa's hair. Your breaths becoming heavier, and the tempo of the kisses slowly growing in intensity, your body beginning to melt with pleasure and excitement as Vanessa's lips met yours.
You moaned into the kiss, the feeling of Vanessa's pink, soft lips on yours causing another wave of pleasure to wash over you. Your desire for her grew more and more intense than ever before. Never before would you think you’d even want, need a woman as much as you needed her.
As the kiss became more intense, you couldn't control yourself anymore. You grabbed the hem of her shirt, your fingers gripping the fabric as you lifted it up higher.
As you lifted Vanessa's shirt off, she held her arms over her head to help you, and her body was exposed to you as her shirt was lifted over her head. As the shirt was removed, her dark, lacy bra revealed itself, highlighting her beauty. A smirk was drawn on your face in response as you tossed Vanessa's shirt near yours.
You only had a moment to take in the sight of Vanessa, as she took no time leaning back into kiss you once more, her lips gently yet vigorously meeting yours. Vanessa slowly allowing her body to lean back as she gently spread your legs, pressing the entirety of her body against yours, her knee now rubbing against your heat.
The feeling was intoxicating, it drove you wild, your body craving more, your hips involuntarily lifting as you sought for more friction. Your hips moved in a rhythmic motion as your body begged for more contact, the intensity of the feeling overtaking you and your senses as Vanessa continued to kiss you, her knees digging deeper into your as the motions of your hips grew more intense.
Vanessa's hand quickly darted behind you, her fingers handling the clasp of your bra and unclipping it with swift motion, as you stood motionless for a second, stunned at the ease and quickness of Vanessa's actions. Vanessa then tossed your bra somewhere into the room, exposing your upper body to the open air and creating a feeling of vulnerability before her, watching your reaction to her movements with a half-smirk.
She leaned down and began to leave open mouth kisses on your collarbone, slowly making her way down to your breasts. As she reached your tits she took a nipple into her mouth and rolled the other between her thumb and pointer finger. The sudden contact almost overwhelming, you arched your back at the feeling.
Her motions alternated between swirling her tongue around and sucking on your nipple. Your soft whimpers and panting noises only encouraging her to do more. Vanessa switched sides now paying attention to your other nipple.
Your body had grown even hotter at the feeling of her hands and hot mouth on you. She began her decent down your body. Leaving soft, gentle kisses down your body. Her kisses got sloppier as she reached your naval.
Vanessa looked up at you and smirked as she began to unbutton your pants teasingly slow. As she finally unbuttoned your jeans, Vanessa began to tug downwards on the waistline - a clear sign for you to help her by lifting your hips. The anticipation was almost maddening.
She pulled off your jeans painfully slow, obviously teasing you. At this point you weren't sure if you could handle much more teasing.
Finally your jeans were off and discarded somewhere, God knows where, in the room. She leaned back in, continuing where she had left off, just below your naval. Slowly and teasingly she lowered her way down. Both of her hands found each one of your thighs, parting them a bit wider than before.
Vanessa began to leave light kisses all over your thighs and inner thighs. You were becoming restless at this point as you spoke up, "Please, Vanessa."
You were desperate for her to relieve the ache and tension between your thighs. "Please what?" She asked, although she already knew the answer she wanted to hear you say it.
"Touch me please," you begged her. You should've been embarrassed of how needy you were, but all you could focus on is how much you needed her.
"But I am touching you?" She teased, smirking slightly. But she gave in as soon as she glanced at your face.
Vanessa slowly rubbed your clit through the fabric of your underwear. You let out a sigh of relief at the sudden pleasure. She could immediately feel how wet you were, even though there was a barrier between her thumb and your heat.
Leaning down she took the waistline of your panties between her teeth she looked you directly in your eyes she pulled it down. It honestly was the hottest thing you had ever witnessed. She pulled it the rest of the way down with her hands and tossed it behind her, not giving a care where it would end up. All of her attention right now was on you.
She didn’t waste any time as she began kissing your inner thighs as she made her way closer and closer to where you had desired her most. You squirmed, waiting for something, anything to happen. As she reached your center she tested the waters by licking your clit softly. You gasped at the contact.
She had began slowly, licking you but as soon as she heard just what those gentle touches could do to you, it fueled her. She applied more pressure with her tongue, which drove you insane. Your hands made its way to her hair which you now gripped.
Testing the waters once more, she began to suck on your clit which brought out an explicit moan out of your lips.
She began to eat you out like you were her last meal. You were shocked by how good she was at.
Vanessa brought her middle finger up to you entrance as she slowly pushed it in, still paying attention to your bundle of nerves. She slowly trusted her finger in you, once in a while curling it in a ‘come-hither’ motion.
After a while she pushed in her ring finger as well, it took you a second to adjust to the stretch of her fingers but once you did your senses were overwhelmed with pleasure.
“Fuck,” you moaned out. That fueled her even farther as she sped up her movements. You were already embarrassing close to coming - but in your position who wouldn’t?
Your moans became closer and closer together, Vanessa knew exactly what that meant. She kept her movements at the same pace and her fingers kept brushing and curling against the spot the made you see stars. You were sure that the neighbors would make a noise complaint due to your noises.
Your back arched as the coil in you abdomen snapped, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. You panted as Vanessa worked you through your high as your legs shaked softly. She stopped her movements and removed her fingers.
You took a moment to recover as you looked up at her. “God, you’re amazing.” You said looking at her with your eyes half-lidded. She let out a soft laugh.
Now all you could think of was returning the favor and how hard you were falling for the blonde.
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