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futureman · 5 months

Text

don't wanna leave this play date

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

summary: you and mike find a way to make a boring shift at freddy's a little more interesting

warnings: 18+ MDNI, coworker!reader, smut, pwp, overstimulation, edging, blowjob, extremely rough oral, throatpie, fwb

word count: 1.9k

(based on these two requests, tysm for sending them in!)

"Thank you. God, thank you so fucking much."

You can't respond to him with your mouth as full as it is, but he picks up the acknowledgment in your next extra-hard suck. He probably wouldn't have heard you anyway, not with how loud he's gotten over the last half hour.

Should you both be working right now? Yes. Could something go terribly wrong because you're too busy blowing your coworker to watch the security monitors? Oh, absolutely.

But when his curly mop of hair appeared at the edge of the doorway midway through your shift, you knew you'd end up doing whatever he asked you to. It might just be your fatal flaw—you can never say no to Mike Schmidt.

He buries his fingers in your hair, tensing but not tugging, as you steadily work him the way you know he likes. He's surprisingly gentle for someone so eager to get his cock in your mouth every night, but you figure there's not much else to do during a midnight to 6 a.m. security gig at a closed-down pizzeria no one gives a shit about anymore.

Plus, you like doing it. You like him. It's cute how unashamed and unapologetic he is about how badly he wants you, and he makes you feel so good, you've never even thought about turning him down.

Even on nights when he just needs a quick release to ease the boredom or relax him enough to squeeze in a nap, just the taste and weight of him on your tongue has you soaking right through your panties. And he always makes it up to you.

But you're bored tonight, too. With three hours left to go, you'd been sitting in your shitty folding chair wondering how the hell you were going to stay awake and pass the time when Mike offered you an enticing solution. Except, you're still feeling antsy, and you don't want this to be over as fast as it usually is. Tonight, you want to play a little longer.

You pull off of him with a lewd pop and jerk him off languidly, loosening your grip to stave off his quickly approaching orgasm.

"That feel good?" you ask breathily, inhaling a lungful of air after letting him rut into the inside of your cheek for the past ten minutes. His fingers twitch against your scalp as he nods.

"S'good, feels so good," he slurs, his head tipped back as he bucks off the chair and into your fist.

"You want more?" You start to twist your wrist whenever you get close to the tip, and you can see and feel the shudder that wracks through him.

"Yes, god, yes. Please," he pleads, just short of begging.

"More what?" you goad experimentally. It wasn't your intention to make him beg when he walked into your office asking for help, but now you don't want him to stop.

"Y-your mouth," his head lolls forward, and he bites his lip hard at the sight of you licking away the precum streaming from his tip.

"Deeper, can I—," he tries to ask, but you shift to tease the underside of his head, and he chokes out a groan. "Wanna fuck your throat so bad."

"Are you gonna cum if I let you?"

"Fuck, probably," he admits reluctantly.

"Then, pick something else," you give him a teasing smile, a little charmed by his honesty.

Continuing to stroke him, you duck down to press a wet kiss to the base of his cock, then surprise him by sucking one of his balls into your mouth.

"Jesus, fuck," he gasps, leaking more precum that dribbles onto your cheek as you alternate between harder suction and softer swipes of your tongue.

He tastes salty and heady, and you were right. You're wet as fuck and so tempted to shove your other hand down your pants to toy with your clit, but you know he'll do that later. And you're not even close to being done with him yet.

Your grip tightens as you pick up your pace and focus closer to the head, maintaining eye contact that seems like it's setting him off just as much as your mouth or hand. His whole body vibrates with those telltale whimpers, and he finally starts to tug at your hair.

"M'gonna cum. Shit, keep going, I'm gonna cum," he grits out, his chest heaving.

His eyebrows pinch and his lips part, and he looks like he's seconds away from blowing his load all over your face—but then you release him again. You slide your hand under his shirt to stroke his heated skin comfortingly as he squeezes his eyes shut, panting like he just ran a marathon.

"Shit...shit," he keens, and you can feel his abs tensing and relaxing under your palm. His cock jerks pathetically next to your face, and you grip the base to make sure he doesn't accidentally topple over the edge.

"Shit," he whines again frustratedly, half-heartedly trying to pry your fingers off him. "Why?"

You rest your head against his thigh and smile, watching him pout down at you. He really is so cute when he gets fussy like this.

"You really wanna cum that fast? What happened to wanting to fuck my throat?" you tease him, beginning to jerk him off again. He sighs in relief, and his hips jut forward to meet your hand on every downstroke.

"You already said no," he replies dejectedly.

"I said not yet," you correct. "If you give me one more, I'll let you do whatever you want."

He eyes you curiously like he thinks you're baiting him, and you guess in a way you are. By now, he knows you've been edging him on purpose, but he has nothing to lose and everything to gain if he accepts your deal. He knows you'll make him feel good no matter what.

"You can choke me," you continue, slurping messily around the tip. "You can be as rough as you want," you trail your lips down his spit-slick length to the base and lick a wide stripe back up, "and you can cum in my mouth, and I promise I'll swallow all of it."

He's nodding frantically before you can even finish, and his eagerness reminds you of a golden retriever.

"You're gonna be good?" you confirm.

"I'll be good, I'll be so good," he blurts out, his urgency slurring his words again.

"I know you will. Just one more time, I know you can handle it," you encourage him.

Then, you swallow him down without warning. He lets out something guttural and animalistic, both hands tensing to hold you in place, and you let him.

You never planned on making this easy, but you meant what you said. He can handle this. He can handle the tightness of your throat constricting around him, contracting intermittently to mimic how your pussy feels fluttering around him.

Or, at least, you hope he can. You feel his balls draw up dangerously under your chin, and when you peer up through your watery lashes, his eyes are starting to cross. That's not good.

Slowly but steadily, he nudges the back of your throat harder and harder until tears and drool are streaming down your cheeks and chin. He's mumbling incoherent strings of praise and curse words between drawn-out whines, but you can barely hear him over the wet sounds of your own gagging.

"Fuck, that's...good, that's so fucking good," he pants raggedly, picking up his brutal pace. It's like he's lost all control of his body, and all he can do is chase the high you've been denying him all night.

You gurgle around him, grasping his thighs to ground yourself against the force of his thrusts, and briefly contemplate trying to stop him. But it's too late and he's already too close. His face screws up, and then you know it's coming.

"I'm sorry—I'm...fuck, I'm s-sorry, I'm so sorry. I can't—," he whimpers, fucking into his fist, "—m'gonna cum, I'm so close."

Moaning around him in response, you dig your nails into his skin, hoping the unexpected pain distracts him enough to keep him from cumming, but that only makes it worse. So, you let him.

The subtle vibration combined with the sharp bite of your nails sends him reeling. His expression goes completely lax, and then—

"I'm cumming...oh my god—," he all but sobs, burying himself as deep as you can take him.

You struggle to breathe through your nose as he empties down your throat, swallowing as much as you can, but you've been edging him for too long.

Viscous fluid leaks out of the corners of your mouth and down his cock, adding to the wet mess in his lap, and your harsh grasp on his thighs only seems to prolong his orgasm. After what feels like a lifetime, his whimpers taper into soft pants and he starts to rub soothing patterns into your scalp, an apology for his rough treatment.

You blearily meet his eyes, and they're glassy and unfocused, watching you reverently like he can't believe you just let him do something he's only ever seen in porn. And that you actually liked it. Shakily, he reaches out to thumb away the release dribbling down your chin, and you pull off of him briefly to suck it off his finger before returning to his cock.

That's why you do this night after night—that look right there. It's the awe and hunger that linger even after he's already thoroughly blissed out and softening in your grasp.

Except tonight, he's not. Mike is somehow still hard as a rock and thrusting weakly into your mouth, trembling like a leaf now that his aftershocks have subsided and the sensitivity is setting in.

Tentatively, you grip him at the base and swirl your tongue around the tip to gauge his reaction, and when he doesn't push you away, you take him further into your mouth. But on your next hard suck, his lips part and a violent shudder wracks his entire body, so you hesitate and pull off.

"Too much?" you wince, slowly uncurling your fingers from around his cock, but he shakes his head furiously.

"N-no, feels...so much," he says, dazed, his voice scarcely above a whisper. "Feels good. Can you keep going? Please."

His face is screwed up, as tense as the rest of him as he struggles with conflicting feelings of intense pleasure and pain, but he's not fighting it. He's actually enjoying it.

He flinches as you resume your movements, toying under the ridge with the tip of your thumb, and begins to squirm the longer you continue to play with him. A quick glance at the clock tells you there's still an hour and a half left of your shift—that's plenty of time.

In the four nights you've worked here, the security monitors haven't shown a single sign of activity and you doubt they're going to start now. Your gaze drops from his pained, yet hopeful expression to his twitching cock, and you make a decision.

You'll go as long as he wants. After all, you can never say no to Mike Schmidt.

"Mhm, whatever you want," you hum, then sink back onto him. He sighs gratefully, shivering at the sensation and your words, and verbalizes his gratitude repeatedly like a prayer.

"Thank you, thank you."

thanks for reading!

(dividers by @saradika-graphics)

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt #fnaf imagine #fnaf smut #fnaf movie #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson x reader

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love-toxin · 6 months

Text

bonus night - mike schmidt

plot: jk it's just por-//SHOT

(cws: fem!reader, FNAF movie spoilers!!!, rough sex, riding, begging, a teeny tiny taste of dom mike, tit sucking, bruising, protected sex w/ a twist, post-fnaf canon, established relationship)

wc: 2k

There's absolutely no question that it's been a long fucking day. One of many, in fact, both behind him and yet to come.

Aside from his sleep schedule still being tremendously fucked from that five night ordeal, Mike's also had the stress of landing a new job and keeping it this time. He's lucky–god, he's lucky that an old friend of his just happened to have a connection–but that just puts more pressure on his ability to keep a level head and not lose this one. Plus, with his meds cut out as well as a whole host of new traumas to keep him up at night it's almost more stressful than fighting for his own life. With today being the end of orientation and the first real shift on the job, it's finally sinking in that a new chapter of life has started but his problems are still an uphill battle.

Bills, backpay, rent, Abby's therapy, pacifying their aunt who was quite aghast at waking up disheveled on their living room floor…it's been a process to say the least. His one saving grace has been you. You. His beautiful, gentle angel, with a voice like sugar and honey and skin as soft as velvet, warm like a shallow pool on a summer's day that he'd want to float in for hours. You're so precious he can't think of a single thing he's done in life that tops being your lover, or even comes close.

Well…maybe there's one thing.

“Mike,” The squeaking of the bed beneath you just barely drowns out the high, sweet whimper that your voice has melted into. “Please baby, slow down-”

A squeaky “ah!” flies from your mouth regardless of that insistent plea, your lover's hips like stone pistons as he bucks up and topples you over to land back against his chest. He loves you there; the feeling of your tits squished against his chest as he holds your ass in an iron grip. Thumbs dig into each cheek, palms splayed out to keep you spread but still in your place–stretched enough to take him but tight enough not to let him slip out. Not even now, an hour after he carried you through the door over his shoulder, when his spit and cum and sweat have coalesced into a damp sheen spilling over his lap. Fuck the mess. He'll clean it up later, if he doesn't just throw his whole bundle of sheets into the wash to scrub away the evidence.

Each thump, thump, thump of your body thrown down rings more in your ears than his, but both of you feel it equally. Your womb kissed with hard, stinging passion on every thrust, and Mike's stomach twisting and flexing as his cockhead beats that spot raw, instincts begging him to drain all he has left inside. He's got lots of pent-up energy to spare, and on the one night that his sister's gone to a sleepover you can bet he took the chance to let some of it out. He'd barely had time to grab a condom–as eager as he was, it pales in comparison to the heat between your thighs when you see him get all riled up. If he'd let you put it on for him, you'd probably have it off in a second. Now he's just at the mercy of your needy and downright addictive pussy.

“Fuck!” Your mewls shift into a spitting, hissing curse when he bites down on one of those beautiful breasts of yours. Unlike what a weaker man would do, Mike isn't averse to leaving bruises–what else could be expected? He tries to be a gentleman in public and you always tell him he is, but the desire to put hands all over those pretty tits and mark his claim on them is second nature now. And no matter how much you'll complain about them being sore afterwards, you'll still push them in his face with that devilish look that's daring him to do it all over again.

Besides, he can't resist those things swinging right in front of him. And you'll forget the sting so quickly, his tongue will make short work of those shallow wounds you feel as he latches his lips and starts to suck. Greedily.

“Mike!”

Your hands in his hair won't stop him. But they don't really want to–as always you love to tug but you never push him back, you don't try to get any more space between you because what's already there is still not close enough.

God your whiny voice is so cute. He couldn't feel more lucky to have picked you up when he did. How would he know that the girl he helped out once for an ice cream would end up being his girlfriend? He just thought you were cute, and he felt bad seeing your face fall as you counted out your change in line, so he hadn't thought twice about the dollar he put down on the counter in your stead. Such an adorable little ditz, and now he's got you riding his lap and kissing him awake nearly every morning. If he wanted to catch a break, this is it.

“M-Mike, m'gonna cum,” Your whimpers dig into his ear and tug at the strings of his heart, his head already turned to soothe you with a low, soft shush brushed by your cheek. There there. With a stroke of your hair, you're melting again.

“Mhm,” He hums again, his warmth a lull following the furious heat that's been sparked by the friction of his hips pumping at a violent pace. “Shh, sh sh. We’ll go slow, I promise.” His murmuring muddies your head, his fingers descending quickly towards their destination. Once they reach it at the crest of your soft, pudgy mound that's been brutalized by his cock, he's glad to see you finally let that tension go as you slump forward into his chest. You just need to cling to him for awhile, and he certainly won't be complaining.

The smell of your sweat, your heat, your sleek, soft tongue wetting the bruises your teeth leave in his throat, all that whining and groaning and high, girlish squealing as your hips hump his lap–these and more are all reasons he has to absolutely worship you. Your starry-eyed gaze as you look upon him in ecstasy etches itself into his very soul. He won't ever forget this…he won't ever forget you. Not the warmth of you both being cheek-to-cheek, your hand coaxing out his end as it trails reverently from his jaw down his heaving chest.

“Pleeeeease,” You whisper, so achingly sweet he could cry as easily as cum. “Please, baby?”

Please. Such a pretty word. Prettier from your mouth most of all, so pretty it hurts–nearly stings as he digs his nails in and leaves marks on each cheek, though it will moreso for you when you wince at sitting down at your desk tomorrow morning. You're shaking, trembling more like, and even if he made you wait for it you wouldn't be able to obey. The spasms wracking through you can't be controlled, nor can the grind of your hips down as you let those strong hands drag you all the way to the base. So far that it causes a twinge in your expression as the orgasm passes, your ecstasy blotting out the stretch that you're gonna feel all the way up to your hips in the morning.

But he's got to get in deep, has to make it ache, so he's got a grip so firm it's trembling up his arms and you're shaking even harder on top of him as he digs in and lets loose. There's no question he's hit your womb, it's more curious to whether he's broken through it or not…by the way you bite down on his shoulder and bear the pressure, though, he must be nearly there. Nearly squeezing through that tight, tight wall so he's draining his seed right where it's meant to be. And you paw at him all the while, lower lip quivering, tears threatening to spill, yet you won't let up on rubbing yourself back on his thighs–it just isn't enough until you've taken all he has to give, and even then he can spot that gleam in your eyes that begs for even more. The fact that the condom's split isn't even in his mind, it's floated so far away he won't think of it until it's too late to stop.

Yet all that heat hits the same end after the climax. The friction subsides, the breathing slows, and the two of you are left in content silence as you quietly come back to your senses. There's something even more intimate about losing oneself as a collective; being so hedonistic in pursuing an indulgence, yet facing the fear of baring your own heart to one you love in the process, and reaching an even more satisfying end as it all comes to a close. It's glorious. He wouldn't trade it for anything. He wouldn't trade sex for his own life now that he's had it with you. But, again, he's still coming down from the high–he’ll most certainly feel the embarrassment of losing himself so indulgently as the cool air from the AC starts setting in.

“Was that good, baby?” Your tone just drips with deliciously sinful innocence, god. You've got such a proud expression on your face as he finds the words through his post-coital haze, hands inching back down your ass to grab handfuls of it yet again. Once he's got a grip he tugs, and draws you closer to meet you in a kiss–and as wet as it still is from the exercise, the way you lean into it and giggle is just enough to send his heart burning into passionate flames yet again.

“Very. Always is.” Panting, sweaty, he'd have no trouble convincing the neighbors he was just having it out on a treadmill for the last hour. If he could afford one.

“The best you've ever had?”

“Best. Best and only. Can I get up now?”

“Mmm…” You make a show of thinking up your answer only to tap him on the nose as you lean forward over him. “...No. I like this.”

Mike claps you on the ass suddenly, the smack echoing loudly in his modest little bedroom and eliciting a squeal from you that's just as punctual. Your squirming only draws a heat up inside him again though, and he knows better than anyone that that's exactly what you want. You'd be happy if he never got out of bed again, and if he spent all day with his cock nestled nice and warm inside you.

“Up. I gotta piss. Don't make me count.”

“Fiiiiiiine.” Huffy and puffy as always, you soon relent and slip off with a bit of manoeuvring to flop into bed beside him. “Can I at least hold it?” Rather than say something equally as shameful, he just pushes his pillow over your face with reddened cheeks and ducks with laughter as you launch it back at him, already up and on his way to the bathroom to wash off–and to soon find the evidence of that broken contraception that's definitely gonna plant a seed of worry in him when he realizes. Or…maybe not. God knows how many jokes you've made about wasting his cumshots in your mouth, and how often you've jumped him with no inkling of whether he's got a rubber in reach or not.

Maybe this is just another chapter of life, one more stage he's been readying himself for unconsciously. Whatever it comes with, he's gonna be beside you either way–so in a sense, he's more prepared than he's ever been to face what lies ahead.

#mutuals if u look at me im legally required to gag u #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #spicy writing #fnaf movie #fnaf mike #ellie writes #2k

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springnote · 7 months

Text

Mike Schmidt x gn!reader smut

warnings: nsfw minors dni, cockwarming, teasing

Notes: it’s ambiguous of if its cockwarming in vagina or ass to be inclusive + let’s pretend Abby is hanging out at Vanessa’s house

You knew Mike was going to be tired when he came home, he usually was these days, even if he was feeling a little less depressed lately. He still hadn’t told you how exactly he lost his last job, but Abby has opened up more lately, and he seems less stressed since then, so you don’t question it much. Of course, you still loved to treat him to some private time when you could.

Sitting on his bed, you wait for him to come back home. You can’t help but grin a little, knowing he’s going to enjoy what you’ve got planned. As soon as you hear the door freak open, you shift a little on the bedsheets, sitting up a little straighter and tilting your head a little as you hear him walking down the hall.

“Hey (y/n), I’m back—” Mike starts with a sigh as he walks in, before pausing and looking at you.

You’re sitting there, in one of his large hoodies, and only in the hoodie. It smells faintly of his scent of light cologne and something a little woodsy, and you sigh as you bring part up to your nose to sniff at. He watches with large eyes as you spread your thighs, reaching down to your already wet and prepped entrance to trace your fingers a little.

“Hi Mikey…I’ve been waiting for you~” you say a little teasingly, looking up at him with a mischievous smile.

He looks bewildered, dropping his backpack to the floor and just blinking at you. It’s not a bad reaction at all though, and you can see his chest rising and falling a little harder as his hands flex.

“Baby…” he breathes heavily as he steps over, running his rough hands up your thighs to play with the hem of the hoodie, his hoodie. “You look so damn good…”

You gently pull him down onto the bed, and he gets the idea quick. He tosses his tie off, not even worrying about job searching right now as he grabs you. He yanks his pants and boxers down to his mid thigh, before slowly sinking into you. There’s barely any resistance since you prepped beforehand really well, and he groans at the welcoming warmth.

“Damn you’re tight,” he moans as he leans back against the headboard of the bed, closing his eyes as his brows scrunch together. “Just perfect, babe…”

You can feel him twitch a little inside you, and you shiver a little at the feeling. The fullness is comforting but also so arousing, and you bite your lip to hold back a whine. He doesn’t move at all though, his hands staying at your hips as he breathes heavily.

“Do you want me to take charge or do you just want to stay like this?” You ask gently, smiling a little as you lean closer to rest your cheek against his shoulder.

He looks down, giving you a sloppy kiss. His movements are a little sluggish and lazy, but you still moan into the kiss as he slowly runs his tongue over your bottom lip.

“This is good babe…let’s just stay like this for awhile…” Mike sighs again, pulling back a little to give you a drowsy smile.

You shift a little in his lap, feeling his cock twitch again at the movement. He holds your hips a little firmer now, but it’s not in a rough way. He grins lazily again at your teasing smile, a chuckle leaving him.

“Stay still babe, if you can do that for awhile, I’ll make it good.” He says with a bit of teasing to, giving a delicious roll of his hips that makes you moan and grip at his shoulders.

It was going to be a long night.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #michael afton x reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf smut #michael afton smut #fnaf #fnaf movie

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sleepyhutcherson · 24 days

Note

can you write a fic where Mike is so tired and reader just gently sucks his dick to help him relieve stress before he goes to sleep

eager to please.

MIKE SCHMIDT X GN!READER

summary: after a long, rough day at work, mike really needs you to take his stress away.

word count: 0.5k

tags: NSFW, 18+, blowjob (m!receiving), dirty talk, (hot, whore slut, and pretty being used towards reader), praise kink, dom!mike, established relationship, no use of y/n, hair pulling.

MIKE who gets home tired and somewhat frustrated after a late shift on a day he wasn’t even supposed to be working. The moment he gets home you can feel his mood is off so it doesn’t take much time before you’re on your knees in front of him eager to please him.

He forces himself to look up, his head against the top of the sofa—he knows if he looks at you for a moment more he’ll cum then and there. You’re between his plump thighs, your nails digging into the flesh as you bob your head up and down his cock, sputtering around his length. “Fuh-Fuck—just like that, baby.” He mumbles, his fingers tangled in your hair.

You cover him in your saliva, taking him all in, gagging slightly when he bucks up into you. He looks down at you, hissing a little when your nails continue to dig into his thighs. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t like the pain of it. He really shouldn’t be looking down at you but fuck you’re so pretty like this. Such a pretty whore for him.

“Just like that,” he moans, his fingers curling around your hair to pull it. You whimper around his cock sending a sensation to Mike that causes him to let out a loud moan that he tries to cover up with a groan but you catch the pathetic sound. Your eyes sparkle up, batting your eyelashes a little, pleased with the sounds heard making.

he could practically cum at the sight right now.

“Such a good slut,” he praises, feeling himself come closer to his release. Fuck your mouth felt so good around his cock.

Mike looked down at you, his curls messy, sticking to his forehead that was slick with his sweat. His eyes hazy with lust as he watched his pretty slut take him so good. Fuck he needed to cum. “S-So good,” he babbles, incoherent praises falling from his lips.

His cock twitched in your mouth as you gagged on his length, tipping him closer to his release. He tasted so good. He could tell how needy you were to swallow his cum. He grinned down at you. “You're gonna take it all, right?” He asks, and you eagerly nod, hungry for his load. “Good. Be a good-“

A whimper escapes his lips, cutting his praises off. He bites down on his lip trying to stop the pathetic sounds but eventually he becomes a mess. “Mmm’so good, baby, fuck, fuck, I—I’m so close.” He whines, pulling on your hair.

With a few sloppy thrusts he releases down your throat forcing you to swallow every bit of his cum. You pull off of him soon after, licking your lips before smiling up at your boyfriend, still on your knees. Mike could get hard again at how fucking hot you were like this. How good you always took him. How amazing you always made him feel.

It only seemed fair to reward you too.

☆

taglist: @cancelledkaley @stanheights-boyfriend @ploty-twist @jhutch-bf @laurrrelise @joshfutturman @gryffindorsblog @sofiehutch @obsessivemuso-withnofriends @helen-on-earth @fallingboba @cassiecasluciluce @maticka @jhutchissupercool ♡︎

#mike schmidt #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt x you #josh hutcherson fanfic #mike schmidt comfort #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt smut #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson smut #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt angst

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sameschmidtdiffname · 1 month

Text

Wool Over My Eyes

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

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

Tags: No use of Y/N, no use of gendered pronouns, no genitalia specification, light bondage, pet names, dirty talk, fingering, oral (reader recieving), cum swallowing, morning sex, light breeding kink, recording sex, dacryphillia, light choking, switch! Mike, switch! Reader, facial, age-gap, interrupted sex, barely proofread and over the course of three days after my shifts right before I went to bed (cuz we die like men)

Notes: I love you gullible fucks.

"C'mere here, sweet thing."

I groan as Mike rolls me onto my side, his lips finding my cheek that has been textured from the blanket that imprinted itself upon my skin as I slept restlessly through the night. It had only been a couple hours ago that I'd finally found sleep, and it doesn't even feel like five minutes since I'd actually sunk into it.

"Five more minutes," I groan, my words slurred with sleep as I press my back further against Mike's intoxicatingly warm and inviting front, hardly even noticing anything else about my surroundings as I begin to drift back into sleep once more.

"You said five minutes an hour ago," Mike gently chides into my ear, his voice almost a full octave lower and rough with his own sleep, probably. My hand automatically raises to swipe lazily at his lips which graze so lightly against the shell of my ear, his breath tickling my skin enough to irritate my tired mind. "It's time to wake up."

"Mm," I moan in a somewhat childlike manner. He chuckles at this, his lips once more finding my cheek as his hands begin to peel the blanket away from me, slowly exposing my chest mostly.

"Don't," I groan in a soft, high voice, the cold air of the room beginning to stiffen certian parts of my body. Such as my back, shoulders.

"Be nice," Mike chuckles as his lips trail lazily closer to my own, his hand satisfied with how exposed my body is now and beginning to reverse its trail, now grazing his fingertips gently along the soft cotton of my shirt that still keeps my chest covered.

"Make me," I try to snap, too drugged with sleep to carry any venom in my voice.

Mike's lips find mine in an instant, his tongue diving into my mouth as he suddenly moves his hand to my hair, tugging at it almost harshly as a small whine escapes me from the sudden aggression. He moans into the kiss, his other hand wrapping around my throat ever so gently as our lips slide together, slick with his spit, making me pant against his kiss.

"Don't make me be the bad guy," Mike says against my lips when he pulls away for a moment. His head ducks down to tease at my neck, biting into it softly before he returns to my mouth, slipping his tongue inside of it once more and moaning loudly as he does.

Our kisses are not graceful, I'll admit. They're messy, hard, wet with thick desire as his hand trails to and from my neck, spreading across my chest until his calloused hand eventually dives under my shirt, searching for a stiff nipple to play with as he pulls away from me once more, his eyes glazed with want and desperation as he watches me closely, a lazy smile upon his lips.

"Make those pretty sounds for me," Mike pleads breathily as he pinches particularly hard on my nipple. A short gasp escapes me, my cheeks turning red as my eyes flutter shut once more.

"Hey," Mike says in a firmer voice, lips quickly sealing onto mine once more as his tongue slips against mine needingly before he quickly pulls away. "Stay awake."

"I am awake," I pout softly. He tugs on my nipple again, forcing a small cry from me as he bites my bottom lip.

"Don't lie," Mike warns in a low, rough, almost growling voice. "You know I hate it when you lie."

It's not a lie!... Though admittedly I could see how it would be easy to slip into such bliss as Mike uses me. It's a somewhat arousing thought, the idea of him fucking me to sleep.

"I'm recording, you know," Mike teases as his other hand slips from my hair to the other side of my chest, both of my nipples now being abused by the older man as I pant openly, my hips finding his thick thigh between my legs. "Figured I could use the proof that you just don't like waking up in the morning to see if you'll finally listen to me."

"I listen to you," I protest. His nails scratch my nipples, making me loudly cry out at the touch.

"I said. Don't. Lie," Mike reminds me. "God, its like you want to be punished."

The idea makes my legs pull together in want, my hips dragging deliciously against Mike's thigh as I moan openly, wanting for nothing more than what he'd just suggested.

"You like that, pretty toy?" Mike asks softly against my ear, his teeth nipping at my lobe while one of his hands roughly grabs my chest, the other hand swirling his thumb in quick circles around my aching nipple. Fuck, Jesus. I could cum like this and I wouldn't protest.

"Maybe I just won't touch you," Mike says low in my ear, his voice predatory as I quicken my hips against his thigh which presses harder against me. "You seem to be eager to cum just like this. So easy, so fun to play with."

Mike shoves his tongue into my mouth once more, his hands shifting. One to my throat, one to my hip. He guides my body to quicken its pace against him, his hand occasionally smacking hard against my ass and even playing with the muscle as his eyes drift open to watch me.

"You like being my favorite toy, don't you?" Mike asks in a tired, low and aroused voice as he smirks. I nod slowly, stupid and sleepy against him. Mike smacks my ass again, grabbing and jiggling it roughly after. "Open your eyes when I'm talking to you," he commands. Stupidly I obey, eager to please him as I begin to feel my stomach constrict in pleasure at his touch.

"There you go. Good plaything. You're just so eager to please, aren't you?" Mike asks in a patronizing tone, leaning forward to graze his lips against mine. I move to press harder against them, but he pulls away, still leaving them close enough to tease me, waiting for me to try to swoop in again, then pulling away far enough I whine as I realize his evil game.

"You like older men playing with you, admit it," Mike says in a cocky tone, his hand dipping under my sweatpants to play with my bare ass. I moan in response to his words and his touch, but it doesn't seem to be enough.

"Say it," Mike orders softly, smiling at the sight of me. I blush, shaking my head slightly as I glance away. Mike grabs my ass roughly again, pressing his thigh harder against me as the look in his eye shifts to something slightly darker. "Say it."

I shake my head again, an unwilling smile growing more as Mike grabs harder, leaning in close enough to whisper threateningly, but ready to pull away if I dared to take advantage of the opportunity and kiss him.

"I like older men playing with me," I say in a soft, quick whisper before he can make another threat. His eyes turn gentle once again, and he drags me into another kiss, sweet and loving while he begins to shift his body to hover above mine, moving his thigh much to my displeasure.

"Look at that," Mike praises softly. "You can be so good when you want to be, can't you?"

Mike leans down to press his lips against my neck, biting roughly into it and making me cry out. He stays there for almost a minute, ensuring that there will be a dark bite mark obvious on my skin for the next week before he moves to the other side of my neck, repeating this process. I squirm underneath of him, moaning and crying out pathetically. His hard cock grazes against my leg, and once he finds it he begins to grind against it, releasing his own soft noises as he begins to lap at my blooming marks with his warm, wide tongue.

"Fuck me!" I whine against Mike's ear, nipping at his lobe and panting openly as my hand descends downwards, my fingers just brushing past the waistband of my pants when his own hand carefully but tightly grabs my wrist, moving to pin it just above my head as he uses my body to masturbate.

Mike doesn't respond to my plea. He simply moans as his hips increase in tempo, making it obvious how close he is already. Part of me wonders if this was meant to be a reenactment of his dream last night, or if maybe he'd been fucking himself beside me as I slept for who knows how long before he finally woke me in a moment of desperation. Both ideas make me faint with want.

I use my free hand to snatch a clump of dark curls on the back of his head, pulling them roughly to force him away from my neck. The pain makes him cry out in a deliciously broken voice, his hips stuttering before resuming in a slightly increased pace as his eyes shift to meet mine, a bright red coat of blush decorating his peaceful face, creating the perfect image of such a beautiful, desperate man.

"I asked you to fuck me," I seethe, tugging harshly on his hair again, making him cry out once more. His cock twitches against my leg, then suddenly he begins trying to crawl down my body, his hands grabbing at whatever flesh he can find as he bites harshly at my being, his slick tongue quick to soothe the marks as his amber eyes watch me pleadingly, begging for praise that I don't offer to him.

Mike's hands paw at my pants, dragging them down my hips without even undoing the tight drawstring that keeps the waistline fitted to me properly. The moment I feel the cold air begin to sink into my newly exposed skin, Mike's lips are quick to warm me once again, his tongue diving between my legs as he laps greedily, moaning as he teases my entrance with it. The wet muscle probs at me, tempting me to grab his hair and shove him against me while I ride his face, but I decide instead to pet his hair in non-verbal praise, driving him wild as his blush deepens. His large hands cup my ass, raising my hips off the bed slightly and spreading my legs wider, allowing him easier access to me.

"Stop being a tease," I moan lightly, digging my hand deeper into his hair and scratching lightly at his scalp. His voice cracks as he moans, slipping his tongue into me obediently as he plays with my ass. His own hips fuck the bed, slight trembling obvious as his lashes flutter shut, spit beginning to dribble down his chin as he quickly slides his tongue out and in, swirling it around inside of me and playing with my entrance every time he slips out.

I close my own eyes, pleasure making my back stiff as I hold his head between my thighs, hyperfocusing on the feeling of him tongue fucking me, the knot in my stomach tightening with every move, big or small. The noises he makes as he eats me out are improper, through and through. His voice makes insanity inducing vibrations that spread throughout me with each pathetic, high pitched moan. The bed creeks with every thrust of his hips against the old mattress. A part of me wonders if he's being so vocal for the tape currently recording us, paranoid that the cassette player on his nightstand may not be able to hear us properly. Another part of me likes to think that he's just this into it, so driven insane by my body that he just simply can't help the noises of pleasure that escape him. The idea makes me grip his hair tighter, my hips beginning to thrust harder against his face, making his voice rise in pitch as his eyes drift open, glazed and stupid while he admires me. His nails dig into my ass, his tongue hardly moving out of me now as he fucks me.

"You like it when I fuck your face like this?" I ask him, watching his blush grow as he nods against me, his hips quickening as I thrust harder into his mouth, my thighs tightening around his head. He looks so pretty like this, so utterly desperate.

"You want me to cum on your tongue?" I ask him, tugging his hair harder. He shakes his head, swirling his tongue around inside of me, making me groan lowly. "Where should I cum then?"

Mike slips his tongue out of me quickly, raising his head slightly as he speaks. "On my face," he says sweetly before diving back between my legs, lapping greedily at my entrance while I moan.

"Oh," I drawl slowly, letting him play with me while I watch. "You want me to paint that pretty face?"

Mike moans against me, sliding his tongue into me once more as he ruts against the bed, his eyes closing once more as he puts his all into the act.

"Do you like warming me up for your cock like this?" I ask him, giggling when he dives deeper inside of me in response. "Such a good way to get me ready to breed."

This seems to do the trick for Mike, his eyes snapping open to watch me as he fucks my hole desperately, moaning and panting as his tongue slides in and out, slick noises echoing throughout the room with each movement.

My breathing hitches in my throat as I fuck his face roughly, my stomach feeling tight as my orgasm edges closer, my teeth digging into my lower lip.

"I'm not gonna last much longer," I warn Mike, thrusting harder onto his rapid tongue while one of my hands begin to play with my now neglected nipple. One of Mike's hands quickly finds the other, both of us now playing with my chest to make me whine as I edge ever close, my eyes squeezing shut as I focus on my climax, my voice ragged and high as I moan for Mike to quicken his hand. He obeys immediately, his thumbnail flicking at the hard bud while his other hand squeezes my ass, nails digging into the cheek while he moans into me. I steal a look downwards at him, locking eyes with his now possessive glare while he watches me with eager satisfaction, silently begging me to come undone onto his face. And with such a beautiful, demanding man fucking me like this, who am I to say no?

"I'm coming," I stutter as the tight knot in my stomach begins to snap. "Fuck, Jesus, I'm coming!"

Mike moans in harmony with me, eyes widening in excitement as I pull him as tight against me as I can. My own eyes flutter shut, my hand clamping down over my mouth to muffle my sharp cries, my body trembling as my muscles stiffen, pleasure ripping through me to the point I clamp my thighs tight around Mike's head, pumping into his mouth with such vigor I'm almost worried he may not be able to breathe properly. But he doesn't ask me to stop, his pants soft and desperate as his own body shakes.

The force of my orgasm takes me by surprise, relaxation kicking in hard enough that when I close my eyes, it's hard to open them again. With each tremble from the waves pulsing through me I'm coaxed back into sleep, my muscles slowly relaxing one by one, my mind shutting off, and it doesn't take long before I can hear a deep voice in my ear, whining something much too loud for my tastes.

"Mm," I groan once again. "C'mere, come cuddle with m-"

"I asked you, very politely, to stay awake," Mike whispers in my ear. My eyes flutter open, blinking rapidly to adjust once more to the morning light. "What on earth am I going to do with you?"

In Mike's hand is a small washcloth, wiping away at the leftover cum I had painted his face with. Mike's hand is rubbing my thigh as he grazes his cock over my hole, teasing me as punishment.

"I'm sorry," I say softly, a blush rising to my cheeks as I try to put on my best act of innocence so maybe he'll skip the torture and go straight to fucking me.

"No," Mike drawls, his hand inching closer. "No, I don't think you are."

The tip of Mike's cock presses against my entrance, threatening to dip in, making me moan desperately.

"Shush," Mike soothes me, wrapping his hand around my throat slowly, finger by finger. "Don't wake the rest of the house."

Mike slips his middle finger inside of me, pumping quickly and hard. I whimper quietly, which seems to be too loud for his taste.

"I said be quiet," Mike whispers patiently as he carefully squeezes my throat. I try to reach for his hair only to discover my hands have been bound to the bedframe by some sort of cloth.

"You like my tie, sweet thing?" Mike asks sweetly, slamming harder into me. I can hear the increasing volume of the smacking inside me as he fucks me with his hand, sounding so delicious as he curls his fingers just right. Mike leans in closer, running his tongue over the bottom of my lip before shoving it inside of my mouth to claim me once again. I moan loudly, giving in fully to desire as he has his way with me. Mike pulls away instantly, choking me hard enough my airflow is slightly restricted. His ring finger slips inside of me right before he begins to slam inside of me with all of his strength, making me gasp pathetically while he ruins my tightening hole, my legs trembling as I arch my back, pressing against his smooth tie. I wrap the longer end around my palm, tugging at it in desperation. Mike bites down on my neck again, and I'm about to cry out when the doorbell buzzes throughout the living room, making us both jolt in surprise at the sudden interruption.

"No, no, no, no!" I whine, my eyes wide as I feel Mike thrust into me one final time as hard as he can before pulling away, leaving me empty and trembling while he stands from the bed. "Come back, come back!"

Mike looks cocky and pleased with himself while he pulls a sweater on over his head, glancing back over his shoulder at me for just a second.

"Just go back to sleep, sweetheart. I'll handle it," he coos like an asshole.

"B-but I'm not- we-"

Mike is out the door before I can protest, our unexpected guest buzzing once more in clear irritation at the slow response to their arrival. Who the fuck even is it? It's hardly even seven!

Disappointed and frustrated, I slump against the bed, clearly pouting as I hear Mike open the front door. And Abby is slipping out of her room now too, her young voice muffled through the walls as she greets Aunt Jane, apparently.

Oh my god.

Not fucking fair!

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

You know, I wasn't gonna write this. I just pulled a bunch of tags out of my ass when I originally posted the fake fic, but then I decided you guys took the joke so well that you all deserved a little treat. Say 'thank you, Dani.' <3

I may be an asshole, but I'm not evil. So, I expanded my regular taglist to include the horny fucks that got trolled so they could read my bullshitted glory. You're welcome 😌 (would love to have you join the taglist full time, btw!):

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool @laurrrelise @orchidmothh @mystargirl-interlude @freak-accident419 @fatinhadesiners06 @mrjsbunny @futureman @sleepyhutcherson @lile6969 @heartsoremania @bowerssz51 @nick-nacker @joshhutchersonsgf @kathybernice @janitorhutcherson @sofiehutch. Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

Happy April fools day, everyone. Thanks for following, reblogging and commenting. See you next time!

•▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

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pyro-chaos · 7 months

Text

Mike Schmidt x Reader

Sometimes

Pt. 2. to This Series

Summary: How life’s going with the new roomie!! Smutttyyy, kinda smutty

Tropes: And they were roommates. Smut fluff, and a smidge of angst

Word count: 2317

A/N: Yooo, this is my first attempt at writing something… saucy. Lol, what do you think??

At first, Mike had reservations about moving in with you.

He thought it would… change the relationship dynamic.

It does, but not in the way he expects.

“Morning, Abby’s brushing her teeth,” you hand Mike a plate of toast with jam and scrambled eggs, “I have to stay late today. Our department has a project due.”

Mike nods, “Okay,” he swallows a mouthful of eggs, “what time should I go for you?”

You put the egg pan in the sink, on top of two other plates.

“Actually, I’m going out tonight. So I think you’re good until tomorrow morning”

Honestly, it surprised him a bit, when he found out you had other friends.

Well, that sounds bad, he’s just surprised by the activity within your social life. It makes him crave something he didn’t know he cared about.

“Will you be home tonight?” He asks.

You gulp down the last of your coffee like a shot. Then you shrug, “I wouldn’t count on it, but maybe.”

Mike swallows his last bite and takes his plate to the sink, “Okay, be safe.”

You smile and finish getting ready for the day. Mike does the dishes.

To be honest, Mike loves having a roommate.

You split the bills evenly. Mike takes half the rent, you take the water bill. Mike gets electric, but you have the insurance.

It’s nice. It feels like he found an island after struggling to keep afloat.

He can afford to go way down in hours. Rather than carry the weight of two full-time jobs, Mike only has to manage one, with the odd double shift.

There’s a park within walking distance from your house. It has a tire swing. Mike has the time to walk Abby there on weekends, and the energy to give her a boost.

Sometimes, You come home smelling like booze.

Sometimes, Mike stays up past Abby’s bedtime to make lunches for the next day. Or to catch up on forgotten chores.

Sometimes, he stays up just ‘cause he can do that now; without feeling mind-crushing guilt.

Sometimes, you run into each other on those nights.

It’s Friday night, a week after you successfully completed the work project, and you stumble into the house at an odd hour.

You smell like a mix of someone else’s cologne and cheap alcohol. Your lipstick is smudged and your clothes look ruffled.

Mike watches you wobble to the sink after kicking off your shoes.

He pretends not to notice the hickeys littering your neck while you chug a glass of water.

“Rough day?” He means it as a joke, but Mike doubts the concerned tilt of his eyebrows makes it seem like one.

“MMmm nuh uh” you answer; slightly out of breath, “S-sorry, just a lil’ thirsty.”

Mike chuckles. He puts a bowl of leftover pasta in the microwave.

If anyone ever asked, he’d deny it until his tongue fell out. But Mike thinks you're cute drunk, and he likes how the curve of your breasts peek out of that top.

Nights like this make him feel kind of gross. He goes to bed soaked with guilt because he knows he shouldn’t ogle anyone like he’s ogling you.

If you ever found out about how he stared at you after you slumped into a kitchen stool, he’d kill himself.

You’re wearing a skirt, and he can see… he can see the inside of your thighs. You’re slouching too. He can see the trail of purple outline your collar bones, and lead into - No.

He sets the bowl of pasta in front of you and then sits down across from you. He’s praying you didn’t see him twitch under his pants.

You slowly eat the pasta, like you’re having trouble feeling your mouth.

Mike stirs his tea.

He tries not to think about your mouth.

When you’re finished, you look a little less, unbothered. Your eyes go a little dark, and you’re holding your head up awkwardly.

“Ready for bed?” Mike questions. He hopes you don’t hear the desperation hidden in the softness of his voice.

You nod.

He leaves an old pot by your bed before heading to his own room.

Nights like this, Mike feels how long it’s been since he’s gotten pussy.

His dick is throbbing. It’s begging, and it hurts, but he fucking refuses to give in.

Mike tries to clench his legs and think about anything, other than how you might’ve looked riding someone else’s dick.

His hips buck up into nothing.

Your tits would bounce. The other guy probably loved it. Mike bets the other guy couldn’t resist popping your nipples into his mouth. Or maybe he used his hands. Maybe he gripped your tits so hard that you saw stars.

Mike rolls over - face down - his pelvis squishes his boner into the bed at this angle. He’s glad for the pillow that swallows his groan.

He thought the new position would help, but it doesn’t, the friction just makes everything worse.

Mike can’t get those damn hickies out of his head. They’ve seared into his mind like a brand that just keeps bleeding. He wants to lick them. He wants to know what you’d do if he licked them.

Oh god, and your thighs.

It takes him a moment to realize that he’s grinding against his sheets.

He huffs, practically ripping off his boxers and gripping the base of his dick.

He gives in.

He thinks about how you’d look sprawled on his bed.

What would you do? - Mike wonders - if you woke up to him between your thighs?

Mike would go slow, he’d go so slow, and he’d make it feel good. He wouldn’t leave until you shake.

He’d spread you open first; let your legs rest open like a monument. He might indulge himself with a kitten lick along your clit.

Then, he’d slide a finger through your slit.

Would you want to sit on his face?

Mike's balls go tight, his dick jumping as he imagines your weight on his tongue.

He licks his lips, hoping to taste something he’s never had.

He finishes all over his stomach, and tries not to imagine how you’d look licking it up.

He doesn’t know how he’s gonna look into your eyes tomorrow.

It's Saturday, and Mike said he’d give you a ride to a car that you found on Craigslist.

“What happened to your car?” Abby asks at the beginning of the drive.

Mike glares at his sister through the mirror, but he can’t shush her without revealing that he’s already figured out what happened to your car.

“It’s not mine anymore” you respond. Your tone isn’t sad, or forlorn, but the mood shifts anyway.

Mike fills the awkwardness by asking what Abby wants for lunch.

You don’t end up buying the car.

The guy on Craigslist listed the car under Used, Like New but the car was definitely not, Like New.

You apologize to Mike so many times he stops keeping count, but he really doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal.

He had to look for months before he found a reliable car for an affordable price.

He’s sure to tell you as much, but he still finds extra cash in his glove compartment the next day.

Sometimes it feels like you don’t think of him as a friend, just someone you’re living with.

It bothers him.

You go out again on Sunday night, you come home smelling even worse.

Mike’s in the living room when he hears something fumble with the locks. At first, he thinks nothing of it, but then he hears a thump against the door.

Mike peeks through the peephole, and rolls his eyes after he watches you almost eat shit when you lose your footing.

You’re too drunk to stand on your own. Mike doesn’t even bother to ask if you’re okay, he just helps you to your room and puts the old pot near your bed, again.

Abby sleeps across the house, so she doesn’t hear you puke your guts out at 3a.m.

Mike does, and it makes him feel something bad. It’s a feeling he’s not used to associating with you. Disappointment? Disgust?

Something like that - there’s a bit of anger in there too - but it’s also mixed with worry. You’re not the type of person to get black-out drunk on a Sunday night.

But still, that’s two nights this week you’ve come home drunk.

In literally any other circumstance, Mike would mind his own business, but you live with Abby now.

He remembers the little furrow of Abby’s brow when he told her that you got sick. How worried would Abby get if she heard you puking in the middle of the night? How the fuck could he even begin to explain that to her?

Mike doesn’t want her to be around someone who’s drinking themselves stupid; It’s dysfunctional. Didn’t you have enough respect for Abby to understand that?

He’ll talk to you about it tomorrow night, but tonight, he checks the medicine cabinet. Just to make sure you have enough aspirin for tomorrow morning.

The next morning goes normally. You make breakfast. Abby gets ready. Mike does the dishes.

He doesn’t want to deal with the aftermath of the upcoming conflict quite yet.

Mike just picked you up from work. You applied extra makeup this morning to cover up the dark circles under your eyes, but Mike knows they’re there.

“So, wanna talk about what happened last night?” He doesn’t even bother hiding the judgment from his tone.

“What happened last night?”

Mike feels a flame of anger roll through his body. He has to take a breath before responding, “Don’t play dumb”

You stop sipping on your coffee and lean against the back of the seat. You look out the window for a moment, like you’re thinking really hard about something.

Mike’s thumbs lightly tap the steering wheel. He can feel his temper simmer under his vertebrae.

You lick your lips, and fiddle with the hem of your shirt, “Okay, but first I want to apologize.”

He stays silent, but he’s a little surprised.

“I’ve been irresponsible, and inconsiderate, and I’m really sorry. It’s not fair for you to have to deal with the fallout of my bullshit.”

Mike agrees, but he’s not sure what he could say without expressing that agreement. So, he stays silent.

You rub your eyes, “Oliver and I broke up.”

Mike knows this. You didn’t tell him, but he lives with you, it’s not that hard to put two and two together. Why does it matter?

“I thought I was gonna spend the rest of my life with him, you know?”

Oh. No. He didn’t.

“I just… I’ve been taking it kind of hard,” you sit up, and your voice gains a bit of confidence, “it’s not an excuse, though. I promise it won’t happen again.”

Mike hears your promise, and releases a long breath he didn’t know he was holding.

You wanted to spend the rest of your life with Oliver. That’s… it makes sense that you’ve been getting drunk a lot.

“It’s okay,” he adjusts his hold on the steering wheel, and keeps his tone soft; like he’s trying to caress you with words, “it’s just with Abby - you know?” he shrugs and allows his sentence to hang in the air.

“No, yeah absolutely, I get it. I’m sorry I put you both in that position.”

Your words sound genuine.

Mike literally feels the fight flood out of his nervous system. The emptiness leftover makes him want to go to sleep.

The thought of the conversation tugged on his brain all day, like he was unconsciously gearing up for a fight, and now that it’s over he feels drained.

The drive stays silent until he arrives at Abby’s school. But it’s not submissive or uncomfortable silence. Mike doesn’t feel suffocated by the lack of conversation.

He’s parked at the front of the school when you talk again.

“Are we okay?” you ask, and the softness of your tone makes Mike melt.

“Yeah,” for the first time in the entire conversation - Mike looks at you - and he’s kind of surprised to find you already looking at him, “Yeah, we’re okay.”

Mike did not expect the apology, but he’s glad he got it.

If he’s being honest, he expected you to justify why you’ve been drinking, but your willingness to take accountability came completely out of left field.

That’s not to say Mike feels the apology was unnecessary. It’s more like, he wanted a justification for your behavior; he wanted to understand why you did what you did before getting truly upset with you, but he didn’t expect you to acknowledge how your crisis affected him. But you did.

It’s like, he went into a restaurant expecting his favorite meal, but instead he gets his favorite meal plus an ingredient that he didn’t know would make the entire meal better.

It makes him feel seen.

It makes him like you more.

After that, you seem more comfortable around Mike, and you don’t go out as often.

If you do, you’re home before midnight, and you’re sober.

If you’re not sober, you call, and let Mike know you’re staying at a friend’s for the night.

You act a bit differently too.

It’s kind of strange, because Mike thought you felt comfortable around him before that conversation, but apparently he underestimated how often you try to keep a professional facade around him and Abby.

But now, you allow him to see you in pajamas.

He didn’t even know you owned pajamas.

They’re cute and baggy; fluffy sweats that pool around your ankles, and a matching sweater.

You buy a shelf for Abby’s art supplies. You put it in the living room, in case she wants to draw while she watches TV.

Mike starts to wear sweats too.

Abby’s drawings start to fill up the empty space on the refrigerator

#fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf daycare attendant #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #josh hutchinson #five nights at freddy's

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literallydontknowdontcare · 6 months

Text

Don't Try Me

[FNAF Movie] Vanessa x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: angst (happy ending), smut (rough), annoyed top!Vanessa, bottom!femreader, established relationship, Vanessa wears a strap, Mike being scared of Foxy, Reader also being a security guard

a/n: this is my first time writing since years ago. Ignore the present/ past tense f ups, I can’t be bothered to fix it sorry </3

w/c: 1663

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You should have known not to tease Vanessa. From your hand brushing against hers when Mike wasn’t looking, to you bending over to ‘help’ with building a fort Abby wanted for the animatronics, it was all too obvious for Vanessa not to notice. It just so happened to be that she was intentionally teasing you as well by avoiding your advances.

“I’ll get the sheets for the roof”, Vanessa says, rolling over and standing up from her current position underneath the fort. You looked between her walking away and Mike who was currently eyeing the Fox animatronic in fear.

“I’ll help!”, you pipe up, deciding that saving Mike from killer robots wasn’t as good as possibly getting railed. As you walk in the dark room, you find Vanessa about to bend over to reach the sheets. “Need help officer?”, you practically purr in her ear, squeezing in-between Vanessa and the box shelves at the last second, making her grind against your ass. She sighs behind you, allowing her hand to drift down your back and onto your ass as you stand back up.

“You’re needy today”, she murmured, tilting your head upwards to meet her gaze. You pouted. “That’s what happens when you ignore your girlfriend and take the shifts where you know I’m free”, you say.

Vanessa rolled her eyes, stepping away from you and taking the sheets off your hands. “I don’t choose my shifts. You act as if I’d rather lock up drunken middle aged men then wake up in our bed”. She headed towards the door.

“Maybe those men would touch me more than you do”, you grumble in a soft tone so she can’t overhear. Unfortunately, your girlfriend was sharper than foxy’s hook, meaning she immediately whipped around and narrowed her eyes. “Would you like to repeat that?”, she said strictly. Knowing you were way out of line, you should have said nothing. But being deprived from any sort of sexual touch for a good week, you doubled down.

“I said”, you took a step forward, “Maybe the same drunken men you locked up tonight could find the time to touch me more often and better than you do”. Vanessas jaw clenched, her hand drifting down her stomach in an annoying attractive fashion to her radio, shutting off the person beginning to talk on the other line. For a good solid 10 seconds, it was completely silent. No annoying static of the police radio, no animatronics singing and dancing in the background, just you and your extremely pissed girlfriend in an almost pitch black room, listening to the sounds of each others rapid breathing.

Vanessa made the first move. She pushed you roughly against the shelves, her hands immediately reaching for your breasts underneath your shirt. You gasped out loud as she ripped open the buttons and pushed her face against the top of your breasts that threatened to spill out of your lace bra. She began sucking and biting the top of the soft flesh, distracting you from her hands that were now reaching to unclasp her belt and pull out something unexpected.

“Vanessa, I-“, you began, your head spinning from the quickness of it all. She removed herself from your breasts and began pinching your left nipple with one hand, the other hand still being mysteriously missing in the dark.

“What, isn’t this what you wanted?”, you could almost see the grin emitting from her cockiness. “I hope you didn’t expect me to pepper your pretty princess pussy with kisses, did you?”, she teased. You whimper at her question, a knot starting to grow in your stomach. She stopped squeezing your nipple and quickly pulled down your shorts, slapping your panties harshly, making you jump. “Answer me”, she demanded.

But you couldn’t. With what little light was left in the room, you simply stared at her through your eyelashes, your breasts rising and falling as you plead with your eyes.

She noticed. “Not good enough, is it”, she sighed, “So disappointing”. You widen your eyes, not because of her disappointment, but because of her hand finally returning from wherever it went. *Holy shit*

In the dim light you could just barely make out a large mushroom tip strap. You looked back up at Vanessa, her hand softly stroking it, her lips now almost touching yours, and a look that made you think she was about to swallow you whole.

“Panties down”, she said, one hand heading to rest on your throat whilst the other tapped on your thighs to spread them open. You blush, your senses heightened as all you could think, see, hear, touch and smell was Vanessa. You pried your purple laced panties off of you; to no ones surprise, they were soaked from your arousal, so they took a little effort to pry off.

If you could sense a smirk, you definitely were sensing one from Vanessa right now. The initial touch from her strap was soft, almost caring. She gently rubbed it along your folds, smiling at the noises it made when in contact with your dripping entrance. She began to slowly push the tip in, before taking it back out and slapping it roughly against your already puffy clit. You jump with a loud cry before Vanessa’s hand slaps over your mouth. It’s quiet again for a few seconds as you both listen for anyone realising how long you guys were taking. The music from Freddy started. Good.

She turned back around and narrowed her eyes. “Always whining, aren’t you?”

“You ask a lot of questions”, you blurt.

With that, she roughly shoves the whole strap inside. Your breath hitched as you clasped your hands at the back of Vanessa’s neck, pulling her neck closer to your mouth as an attempt to stop yourself from making any loud noises. She thrusted the strap in and out rapidly, her hands grasping your hips and digging her fingers in so hard you knew purple bruises would emerge. Your pussy clenched harshly around the length, making it harder for Vanessa to move. You were gasping for air at this point, your legs faltering with every movement. Vanessa moved her thumb to your clit and pressed down hard, making you cry out. “Slo- slow down”, you manage to get out. Her pace slows, before realising she was still mad at you, and she picked up the pace again.

The shelves behind you began to rattle as her pace increased and you were clinging to her waist like your life depended on it. You couldn’t silence your moans anymore; it just felt too good. “Nessy, fuck, I need to-“, you were cut off as she shoved two fingers into your mouth. “Wait”, she barked.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your ability to think gone. Just as you thought you were about to lose it, she pulled out entirely before slamming back into your flooded pussy. Letting out a silent scream, you cum around her strap, scratching your nails down her clothed shirt. She let you ride out your high, slowing down her pace before pulling out to let you recover.

You flop your head beneath her neck, letting your breath get back to normal as Vanessa softly rubbed your back and hip bruises. She hadn’t really said much. She was the less talkative one of you two during sex; she preferred letting her body and facial expressions say what she needed to get across. But her not saying anything after was worrying you.

You lift up your head to her reaching for a towel on the shelf behind you. As she began to clean up your thighs and her hands, you decided to break the silence.

“Are we alright?”

Vanessa paused. “Hm?”

“Are we good? Are we okay? Is everything copacetic?”, you quote what she said to you when you first met.

The corner of her mouth twitched, though she threw the towel on the floor and began to fix her pants.

“I am trying, you know”, she says grimly. You tilt your head. “With the crime rate going up, and the shifts they are making me take, and.. all of ‘this”, she gestures to the door, referring to the animatronics, Mike and Abby. “Look, I’ll try and see if anyone can fill in for me. Alright?” She looked as if she were about to cry.

You wince. “Vanessa.. no”, you felt immensely guilty for making her angry just so you could have some attention.

“No?”

“I’m sorry”, you cup your hands around her face and she closes her eyes. “I know you’re exhausted. I shouldn’t have said what I said to make you act out. And even though I miss you, other people out there need someone like you. I can wait, I promise”, you lean in, gently kissing her cheek.

Vanessa swallows the lump in her throat. She hated crying. She hated this room. She hated what her father made her do. But she could never hate you.

“I love you. It’s just- I love you”, she says softly.

“I know”

She leans in to kiss you when all of a sudden: “VANESSA? Y/N? How’s it going with those sheets???”, Mikes voice rings from outside. In the distance, you could hear that the animatronics song had finished, and the stage was now playing disco music. Abby squealed with delight in the background.

“Yeah, Mike, we found em. Give us a second”, Vanessa called out.

You blushed as she helped you redress, fixing your hair and makeup so it looked like you didn’t go through a trainwreck. She smiled as you fixed her tie and picked up the sheets needed for the fort. As you dragged her to the door and opened it to find Mike squeezed in a corner, watching Foxy on the other side of the hallway with immense suspicion and fear, Vanessa made a mental note to remind her father that killing you wouldn’t be an option.

#fnaf vanessa x reader #vanessa shelly x reader #fnaf vanessa #vanessa shelly #vanny #fnaf mike #fnaf movie #five nights at freddys #vanessa monroe #fnaf x y/n

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aweina · 6 months

Text

ᥫ᭡. seven minutes in heaven , mike schmidt ( 17﹢ )

are you an angel ?

tags gn reader. established relationship. facefucking. pet names. reader is nonverbal. anxious + horny mike.

“okay fine. seven minutes.”

there’s a subtle click from his watch, glossy black with bulky straps, fastened with one quick hand. he looks down your face, the faint pink dusting your cheeks and eyes so sickly innocent.

you look up towards his face, your nimble fingers unfastening his belt buckle with impressive finesse — metal clicking and leather landing on the ground.

all it takes was a forceful buck of his hips and one tug at his zipper until your hands greedily pull on the base of his cock, the dripping pearlescent bitterness caught by your tongue.

mike shakily pets your flushed face, wanting so hard to be soft and gentle. but with time being so limited, the night shift around the corner, he needed your warmth so bad — wrapped around his needy cock.

he drags his hand ever so slowly, firmly gripping the base of your neck — hips already stirring from your delicate touches.

your rosy lips pecking sweetly on the swollen tip was now buried down your sputtering throat, forcing a surge of saliva to coat your filled cheeks and a muffled whine to vibrate in your ringing eardrums.

his rough hands looped into your tangled hair like it was some unbreakable rope, tugging your head like it wasn’t connected to your neck — never forgetting to hump his quivering hips onto your face. your jaw hurts, dribbles of warm saliva run down your aching neck.

“i – i’m sorry baby,” mike manages to groan out, the trickle of coarse hair scratching the tip of your nose. “‘s so good, too good – ah fuck.”

the only way to reply is to lick obediently around the base — each forceful pass of his cock your tongue swirls and bends at all the sweet spots. coercing him into a needed orgasm.

mike’s regretful look became so needy. the spew of apologies and pitiful praises turned into incoherent babbling and blood pouring lip bites, never failing to spill out pathetic whimpers and a hushed, breathy version of your name.

but his attention was too occupied at the time, darting his watery eyes towards his wrist — counting every second of this heaven event of being wrapped with wet warmth and seeing the ungodly sight of your mouth breech by his thrashing hips and heavy cock. it’s so hard focusing on two things at once that it’s making him dizzy with lust and anxiety.

the steady tempo that he placed on his hips and the death grip in your hair began to falter like broken music notes. he’s whining every swallow of your numbed throat. the veins wrapped around the base pulsating with every lazy lap of your tongue. his heartbeat bobbing on your sunken cheeks, or was it the twitch of his cock?

he’s close.

your mouth did all the work, picking up the tempo — suckling and spitting towards his peak. making sure to breathe through your nostrils while blatantly ignoring the rain of your hot tears and oozing saliva dripping to on the carpet.

he’s loud, the obnoxious beeping tuned into his watch was left unattended — completely overtaken by his uncontrollable vocal cords, the mixtape of choked groans and soft whines set on repeat in the background. his hands fly to your hair again, forcing the steady tempo into a hasty, desperate rhythm.

“just like that baby,” mike hisses a praise, the burning sensation in your scalp now feels like scorching heat. he’s so rough, so close to where he needs to be.

“holy fuck baby i’m going to —”

before he could finish his sentence, a flood of bittersweet warmth poured down your throat — somehow soothing the raw strain left from his bullying cock. he’s practically singing your name, a white glow blinding his eyesight. a sweet imaginary, angelic tune filled his ears and enveloping warmth spreading across his skin left mike fucked out of his senses. looking down at you, he swore he saw a golden halo hovering over your head.

his softened cock was cleaned off by your obedient mouth and tucked into his jeans with your delicate hands. mike gives you a crooked smile, whispering apologies while kissing at your hairline — wiping off the saliva and stray cum off your flushed face. but the beeping from his watch blared louder and louder, reality began to finally hit mike like a rock, oh shit he had to go to work.

“f – fuck … i really need to head out.” mike immediately scrambles towards his belongings, turning off the alarm while glaring at the time like it was somehow supposed to give him a few spare seconds.

with his backpack and car keys finally on him, he’s ready. although the fly of his jeans were still down and his cheeks were still red — he needed to calm his heartbeat first.

still on your knees, you quietly spread your arms out. without a second thought, mike hugs you back — bending down to accommodate your current position. every pump of his slowing heartbeat drummed against your skin, it was weirdly comforting.

mike pulls away, brushing away the tangles of your teased hair.

“i – i’ll see you soon.” mike whispers sweetly, a little shy seeing the capabilities of his manhandling can make you look so beautiful.

you kissed his lips in reply, watching him awkwardly wave as he clumsily stumbles out the front door — tripping over his undone shoe laces. it’s going to be a long and boring night shift for mike.

add. note : the alt title was ‘heavenly head’ but it cracked me up so i didn’t put it. also, this was just a different spin from the usual ‘seven minutes in heaven’ … not exactly like it obviously ( ^ ㅇ ^ ) !!

#.୨୧ ina writes #.purple mark #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt smut #fnaf movie x reader

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t0yac1d · 4 months

Note

your Mike Wheeler fic was sooooo good I'm foaming at the mouth. Can you write another one with him please?

Can it be like, hate/jealous sex? thank youuuuu

happy new year btw 💞

Obsessed With You (M.Wheeler x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: Smut, jealous sex, possessive!mean!Mike, hickies, dacryphilia, praise, choking, degrading, mentions of voyeurism, spitting in mouth

Notes: Thank you!! I'm glad you liked the fic! I didn't know if you wanted jealous sex or hate sex or both so I squeezed in a little bit of both! Happy New Year, love!

Word Count: 1,140

Hours before, the two of you were at a party, a party for Lucas. It was his birthday and also a celebration for making the most points at the basketball game. Everything was going fine until a certain blonde waltzed up to you. It would've been fine if he just kept it all to compliments but maybe something in him just said to get close to you. Get in your space and purposefully piss Mike off. Obviously, Mike didn't like the sight of Jason being all up on you, he definitely didn't like the sight of you smiling at his stupidly pretty face.

So, he, gently, took you by the hand and lead you outside to his car. Ignoring your questions and protests he drove to his house, his parents were gone for the weekend aswell as Nancy, so, lucky him, unlucky you.

Your makeup was ruined, lipstick smeared around your lips and your mascara running down your face. He had you bent over and on your knees, ass up, face down. Your hands being held behind your back with his belt. His hand wrapped around your throat and his thrusts were rough, his pelvis smacking against your ass. "You think he'd fuck you as good as me? Think he'd make you cry on his cock like I do?" Mike asked, his hand tightening around your throat. You tried to answer him, you wanted to answer him, but it was just so hard to with the way his hips were moving and how his cock felt inside of you, dragging against your walls and prodding at your cervix.

"Fuckin' answer me" he groaned, releasing his hold on your throat and grabbing the belt, pulling on it to help you stay up. "N-no..fuck.." you moaned out, "You sure? With the way you were looking at him says otherwise."

"I'm sure- fuck Mike!" you cried, his hips snapped against you, "Oh fuck.." he moaned, cumming inside of you and releasing your hands. "But-"

"Turn around and lay on your back.' he panted. "You'll get to cum when I feel like it. Now lay on your back."

When you turned around it was almost like he was straight out of a dream. His hair lied on his forehead, sticking to it due to the sweat and his neck and face littered with kiss marks and stained due to your lipstick. He crawled on top of you, hovering. His eyes were soft for the moment, it was nice. His fingers traced your skin, he caressed your face, grazed his fingers over your collarbone, grazed them over your tits and nipples, all the way down your stomach and thighs. All while maintaining eye contact. He wiped the remaining tears that sat on your cheeks and massaged your thigh.

He grabbed your hips with both hands and with one thrust he was inside of you again, filling up your empty and needy pussy, pushing his cum further in you. Pushing your legs back, he folded you into a mating press, going deeper and hitting all the spots you know no one else could hit like he does. He dropped his head onto your shoulder, kissing, biting, licking and sucking at your skin. He teeth grazed against the crook of your neck as he moved up to the middle of your neck, the most exposed part of your body.

He left a peck against it and gently nibbled before biting down as his hips moved faster. You winced at the pain, tears falling from your eyes from the pace and sting of the bite. Your tear slid down from your face onto his, "Fuck" he whispered. His dick twitched as he saw your tears fall, "So pretty when you cry..so fuckin' pretty.."

His forehead rested on yours, "Your mine, all mine, always mine. Just mine. Say it."

"I'm..ah!" you moaned, gripping the sheets, "I'm yours.."

"That's right, just mine..not his." He grunted. Your hands moved from the sheets to his arms and back. "I'm gonna cum Mikey..please..can I cum..?" you pleaded, tears never stopping. Mike shook his head, "No..hold it.."

You whined in response, "Either you hold it..shit..or you don't cum at all."

"Be a good girl for Mikey, yeah?" he asked, leaning back, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist. His hands gripped your hips, nails digging into your skin as his head flew back. "Imagine his face if I fucked you in front of him." he thought, "How sad he'd be to hear you moaning my name. How sad he'd be seeing you cry and beg me to let you cum." he smiled as he felt you tighten around him and whimper.

"What? You want that? You want him to watch you get fucked?" he asked. You nodded, eyes shutting, "Fucking slut, of course you would."

Mike's hand trailed up your body and wrapped around your throat. You brought up a hand, wrapping it around Mike's wrist, holding it. His pace slowed, "Open your mouth for me pretty"

Opening your mouth you stuck out your tongue as Mike leaned down, spitting on your tongue. "Swallow." he demanded. You did as you were told, which is one of the things Mike loves. He loves how obedient you are and how good of a girl you are. "Good girl.." he muttered. "Might let you cum just because of that."

"Please.." you begged, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling Mike closer. "Please what baby? Use your words." he asked, his pace still slow and sensual. "Faster..please.." your eyes pleading and your pussy clenching around him making him groan. He chuckled, "That's all?" his eyes never leaving yours. "And a kiss.." you said letting out an airy breath. Mike smiled and captured your lips with his, hips picking up pace as he slipped his tongue in your mouth.

"I love you. I love you so much. It'll kill me if I lost you, especially to..him." Mike sighed, "You won't lose me Mikey." you reassured, "I better not..if I do...just kill me." he joked. His thrusts got sloppy and his hand traveled to your clit, rubbing circles as he kissed you again. Dick twitching as he moaned in your mouth. "Go ahead and cum for me baby. You've been good, such a good girl." he praised.

The knot in your stomach tightened and snapped as a wave of pleasure and euphoria washed over the two of you. Your legs tightened around him as you held him close. He continued to move his hips, helping you ride out your much wanted orgasm. "If I catch you talking to him I'll fuck you right in front of him. i don't care if it's at a party or in school." he muttered, pulling his cock out of you and heading to his bathroom to set up a warm bath for you.

#smut #smut smut fic #smut smut smut #smutty #fem reader #female reader #mike wheeler smut #mike wheeler x reader #mike wheeler #possessive #dacryphilia #jealousy

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futureman · 6 months

Text

dye this space red

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

summary: mike's a pretty sensitive guy, emotionally and otherwise, and there's a theory you'd love to test on his thighs

warnings: 18+ MDNI, established relationship, smut, pwp, marking, biting, hickeys, hair pulling, rough foreplay, thigh riding, touch-free orgasm

word count: 1.3k

You're convinced that Mike's thighs taste sweeter than the rest of him. They're softer than his stubbled jaw or the hard planes of his chest—a milkier shade peppered with barely-there freckles and sparse smatterings of hair. Thick and sweet, and begging to be bitten.

Or maybe it's the way he reacts when you're between them that's so delicious. His typically deep, monotone voice takes on a higher pitch the longer you suck, bite, and cover them in loving bruises, increasing in volume until it cracks.

Every harsh nibble is followed by a soothing swipe of your tongue and a gentle kiss until he's marked up to your liking and painfully hard, whimpering as he desperately bucks into thin air.

Sometimes you think he'd be able cum like that if you paced him just right. If you entertained his moaned instructions and let him guide you by the hair to where he needed you most, he'd probably cum untouched, longer and harder than he would even at his own hand.

So tonight, you test your theory.

He's fresh out of the shower with the fluffiest, towel-dried curls when you sit him on the edge of the bed and sink to your knees, smiling softly at the earnest anticipation on his tired face. Even after all this time, he still somehow manages to look so grateful every time you touch him.

Every groan and hitched breath sounds thankful, but he rarely asks for what he needs, always so eager to be your good boy and accept what he's given. But right now, you're encouraging him to take control. You want him to push and pull you to every spot that brings him closer to quaking with his impending release.

To see his cock pulse against his stomach, coating him in thick, heady spurts without ever being touched, would be your prize. You're so sure you can get him there, but you need him to show you how.

Taking his broad hands in yours, you bury his fingers in your hair and encourage him to pull you down, slightly lower and to the side of where he's already stiffening with interest. Your lips press into his warm, damp skin, and he inhales sharply, his fingers tugging tightly at your strands.

"Show me where it feels good," you murmur, licking away a stray droplet of water he missed when he was drying off. "I know you like it here...," you swirl your finger around a sensitive spot next to his knee, "...and definitely here," his leg hair tickles as you trail over to a patch of skin an inch or two away from his balls.

His lips part around a gasp, and he tugs your head back to his knee, holding you close. He's careful with his guidance, but his restraint is dwindling—quickly.

"H-here," he chokes out, massaging soothing patterns into your scalp, though you're not sure if that's for his benefit or yours. "Start here."

So, he's using you to tease himself. At the realization, your pussy dribbles uncomfortably down your thighs, and you clench around nothing in an attempt to dull the ache. It doesn't work, but it also doesn't matter. He's what matters tonight.

"Okay, baby. I've got you," you reassure him, meeting his eyes as you suck delicately to ease him into it, then a little harder to leave your first mark.

You swear you can feel the capillaries bursting against your tongue and painting his skin in rich reds and purples. The sweetest canvas for your selfishly possessive art. His hips jerk reflexively, and you can't help but smile after you finish soothing the fresh bruise.

A glance up at his lap tells you he's fully hard now and leaking tempting drops of precum you're not allowed to taste. His eyes are closed, brows furrowed in concentration, so you nip at him to pull his attention back to you.

"I'm sorry, I just...god, you feel good," he mumbles apologetically, tugging you inward and a smidge lower. "A little harder here, then—," he winces, his cock suddenly twitching, and you wonder if just thinking about it is getting him closer. "—shit. Then, work your way in."

You nod, kissing his skin wetly before doing as he asks, and his response is almost immediate. The further in you get, the rougher he is with his guidance, struggling not to yank you from place to place with his tensing fingers. He bucks clear off the bed when you lick a broad, curved line that grazes the underside of his thigh and has to hold you in place tighter to keep you from toppling backward.

As his cock bounces off his stomach and lands in a sticky pool of precum, he whimpers louder than he should with Abby playing just down the hall, and you give him a sharp warning slap next to a particularly abused patch of skin. It only makes it worse.

He outright groans, unable to keep himself from rocking upward steadily like he's imagining you bouncing on his lap.

"Do that again. Harder, do it harder," he grits out, and the demand sends another wave of heat crashing through you.

You fall into a rhythm: bite, slap; suck, then a harder slap. His abs tense and relax in time with each rough motion, and you can hear him muttering something dark and incoherent above you repeatedly. Wait, no—no, he's saying fuck over and over like it's the only word he knows anymore.

By now, he's littered with teeth marks and damp bruises, his tender skin tinged a pretty, rosy red, and his legs are trembling on either side of your head just like you wanted. There's a shuddered breath above you, and then he's dragging you to his favorite spot, a not-yet-tainted point just south and to the left of his balls.

"M'so close," he whimpers, sounding like he's on the verge of tears. "Babe, use your mouth. Now, ngh—now."

Bracing your hands on his thighs as well as you can with how frantically he's bucking his hips, you latch on exactly where he told you to, leeching with more suction than you have all night. Then, his fingers abruptly tense in your hair so hard it hurts.

"M'cumming...fuck—fuck, m'fucking cumming," he moans as it slams into him, and you peer up just in time.

His head lolls back, jaw dropping as the veins in his cock visibly pulse and he cums across his stomach and chest. He continues to buck into the air, simultaneously grinding into your mouth, and only slows once he's totally drained and twitching with aftershocks.

"Well, shit," he breathes out, heaving as he releases his grip to pet your tender scalp. "That was new."

You laugh, leaning up to kiss his softening length.

"Mm, but I knew you could do it," you grin, getting up from the floor and kissing his lips next.

He sighs contentedly into your mouth, coaxing it open to brush your tongue with his, and you melt into him, still a little shaky on your feet.

"C'mere," he mumbles against your lips. He splays his hands across your waist and leads you to straddle his leg. "Pretty sure my thigh owes you one."

Looping your arms loosely around his shoulders, you part from him and bury your face into the crook of his neck to muffle your whines, letting him guide your slick core up and down his leg. His five o'clock shadow is scratchy yet grounding against your ear as he works you to your peak.

"You sound so damn sweet right now, you know that?"

thanks for reading!

(divider by @saradika <3)

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt #fnaf imagine #fnaf smut #fnaf movie #fnaf #five nights at freddy's

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 4 months

Text

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 68

Part 1 Part 67

Will feels a shiver run up his spine as they all bend over Dustin’s containment unit. He’d known something had gone wrong right when Dustin had lugged the thing into first period. After the teasing they’d received over their costumes from what felt like the entirety of the student body on Halloween, Will had known none of them would ever be Ghostbusters again. Then, the thing had shaken, disrupting Mr. Clark’s class entirely, and Will had known it would all go downhill from there.

“His name is d’Artagnan,” Dustin says, smiling as he finally opens the ghost receptacle. Will almost wishes it was a ghost in there, instead of the small, legless crawly thing that darts from its prison. “Cute, right?”

Everyone jumps back at the sudden movement – only Mike and Dustin stand firm. “d’Artangan?” Mike asks, looking curiously down at it.

Will shouldn’t be surprised. Mike was always the kid collecting bugs at recess in elementary school, picking up slugs and snails, and any number of squirmy things to study, often dragging Will along with him. He used to put them in Will’s hands without asking, excited to share his newest discovery. But, after the third or fourth time Will threw it on instinct, whatever poor creature he’d been holding going splat on the cement, Mike learned to hold them an arms-length away.

The feel of the slime and dirt always stuck with him for the rest of the day, no matter how often he’d washed his hands or how chafed his palms would get from wiping them on the rough denim of his pants.

“Dart, for short,” Dustin says. He’s grinning down at the squirming thing like a proud Mother showing off their new baby.

Max leans forward after a few seconds, made brave by Dart’s seeming docility. Lucas inches forward along with her, grimacing down at the table with disgust. “And he was in your trash?” Max asks, that same skeptical tone in her voice that she’d used when Lucas had fed her the bogus lost in the woods story.

Dustin nods, smiling happily over at her. He’d never been the best at picking up tones of voice. “Foraging for food,” he proudly replies. “You want to hold him?”

“No!”

“He doesn’t bite.”

Max takes a step back. “I don’t want to—”

But it’s too late. Dustin’s already plopped the thing into Max’s hands. She groans, “ugh it’s all slimy,” she says, quickly passing it off to Lucas.

Lucas’s mouth is all puckered up in disgust, “ugh, he feels like a booger!”

He tries to pass it off to Will but Mike smoothly steps in front of him, letting Dart settle into his hands with a wet-sounding plop. He raises his hands, looking the thing in the face. Will peers at it behind Mike’s protective back, intestines squirming when he realizes that it has no eyes.

“What is he?” Mike asks, fascinated.

Dustin bounces on his toes, frenetic with excitement. “My question exactly!”

Even after Mike places the thing back on the table, Will has trouble taking his eyes off it. He feels caught in its stare, barely able to focus as Dustin drones on about unidentified species and new scientific finds. The juxtaposition between Dustin’s glee and the rock sinking to the bottom of Will’s stomach makes him queasy.

“Don’t you think it’s weird to find a new species right when it starts happening again?” Will asks, cutting Dustin off mid-word.

The room goes quiet, until Max scoffs loudly enough that Will jumps. “What’s happening again?”

“Nothing!” Lucas shouts. There’s a sweat breaking out on his brow.

Dustin, paying them no mind, crosses his arms and glares at Will from across the table. “Dart isn’t from there.”

“From where?” Max demands.

This time, even Lucas doesn’t pay her any mind. They’re all too busy splitting into sides. Mike moves to his side, glaring at Dustin. Lucas, after looking between the opposing sides, slinks to the Will’s side of the table, a guilty look on his face.

“Are you guys serious?” Dustin demands, hands on his hips as he glares, eyes moving from face to face to face.

Will looks down at his shoes, can’t look Dustin in the eyes when he looks like that – anger all mixed up with hurt in his expression. “It doesn’t have eyes.”

Lucas steps forward. For a second, Will thinks he’s being abandoned for Dustin’s side. He almost hopes for it, an even divide of the party instead of this three against one that makes his guts churn. But Lucas just steps up to the table, looking down at it with squinted eyes.

He grabs the lamp, turning it so the bulb is pointing down at the thing. Any docility leaves Dart right when the light hits. For a fraction of a second, he sits in the spotlight before hissing, squirming wildly, whole body writhing.

“Do you guys see that?” Lucas exclaims, stumbling back from the thing. “”It looks like something is moving inside it!”

Dustin darts forward, plucking Dart from the table with a grotesque squelch. “He doesn’t like the light!” He cradles it to his chest, swaddling it into his baggy shirt like it’s a fussy baby.

Of course, it doesn’t. The Upside-Down was always cold, so cold it’d seep into your bones. It took days of being back for the feeling to fade. Will takes another step back. No one seems to notice.

“Will one of you stalkers tell me what the hell is going on?”

Dustin purses his lips, looking over at her. “We should tell her,” he declares, nodding like his decree should be enough. “We don’t keep secrets in the party.”

Mike groans, sharp and angry. “She’s not part of the party!” he yells, pointing rudely at Max.

“Mike!” Lucas says it like he does when he’s scolding Erica for taking his toys.

“What? She’s not!”

Lucas grimaces, even as he smiles that same smile he always uses when he finds himself in the middle of a confrontation. “You don’t have to be an asshole about it,” he mutters out of the corner of his mouth, as if that’ll stop Max from overhearing it.

She scoffs, an exaggerated look of offense on her face. Or maybe she’s just that peeved. Will doesn’t know her much at all.

“I don’t want to be in your stupid party anyway!” she says, stalking over the door and wrenching it open.

The fluorescent lights from the hallway paint across the floor, bathing the dark room an artificial white. It reaches Dustin on the other side of the table, just barely; a square of light stretching across his chest before descending back into shadow. A square of light exactly where Dart is still nestled to his chest.

Dart screeches so loud that it clicks strangely in his throat. Will takes another step back, stumbling into Max where she’s still hovering in the doorway. Because for a second, it sounded just like a Demogorgon was in the room with them.

Dart wriggles out of Dustin’s arms, legs bursting out of its squishy body just in time to catch itself on the floor. It bolts for the doorway Max and Will are still blocking. Will reels back, sending both sprawling onto the hard linoleum with a bang. His head is cushioned by Max’s stomach, but his elbow connects hard enough to make him squeeze his eyes shut.

“Grab him!” Dustin shouts.

Something wet scuttles over Will’s bare hand. He gasps, pulling it back and crawling over Max’s prone form.

“Get off me!” she yells, shoving him back.

“Did you get him?” Dustin stands in the doorway, Mike and Lucas shoving him from behind until they can squeeze past.

Will looks around wildly but Dart’s already gone. He wipes his palm on his hand, grimacing at the slimy feeling still coating his palm.

Max stands up with a huff, holding her hand out to Will. She doesn’t seem to care that his palm is sticky, or that his fingers are shaking, just yanks him up from his sprawl on the floor, glaring past him at the three still silhouetted in the doorway.

“I’m out of here,” she says, turning around with a ferocious scowl and stalking away.

Will watches her go, her hair trailing behind her like a beacon. Lucas sighs wistfully from behind him.

“Dude,” Mike says, voice all nasally. Will turns, already knowing he’ll see Mike’s eyes all squinted judgmentally just by his tone. “Her? Really?”

Lucas scoffs. “Uh, we’ve got bigger problems right now, don’t you think?” but the way he’s covering his face with both hands cuts his high horse down where it stands.

Dustin’s still standing, staring down the hallway like that’ll bring Dart back. As if anyone else wants that thing to come back at all.

He can still feel it slithering on his hand. He wipes it on his pants again, suddenly desperately wanting Steve and Eddie to be here. He turns on his heel, following in Max’s wake.

“Where are you going?” Mike demands, footsteps following him.

“I’m going to go get Steve and Eddie.”

“No!” Dustin calls, jogging to catch up with them. “They’ll kill him!”

Will stops, narrowing his eyes at Dustin. “They should already be here. We don’t keep secrets in the party. That’s what you said.” He jabs Dustin in the chest with his still-slimy finger, just once, to emphasize his point before turning and running away.

“Don’t let them hurt him!” Dustin calls frantically, voice fading out as Will sprints down the hall, footsteps echoing in the empty space.

Will doesn’t respond, just runs as quick as he can, hoping desperately the high school is already out. Everything’s gone upside down, and he’s not dealing with this thing alone. He’ll drag them both down with him, knows without asking that they’ll both descend gladly.

Part 69

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect

#steddie upsidedown au #my fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #will byers

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murdrdocs · 6 months

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hi love, could i please request a mike fic where he comforts his s/o after a failed exam? just happened to me w my pharmacology exam and im super stressed/sad about it :((

i love your fics & looking for some comfort as i sob into my pillow tbh :,)

-🪐

yes ofc ! im not much comfort when it comes to school and stuff (im a school hter) so hopefully a little ficlet will help :)

mike waits by the phone for your call.

he taps his short and dirty nails against the glass table, picking at his cuticles and hang nails to give him something to do with his hands. he itches to pick up the phone and dial your number, but he wants to give you space and time. patience. he's been practicing it lately.

in the meantime, he ogles at his rough hands, a reminder of how busy you'd been lately. your usual nail day with abby, and recently mike as well, had gone by untouched. leaving abby with chipped polish, and mike with undesirable hands, even though he never minded his nail care before you became a regular fixture in his life.

but he'd been patient, watching –– and sometimes just knowing, having not seen you for a while –– you study. watching you work yourself tirelessly over textbooks and scribbled notes. feeding you bites of food while he went through flashcards with you. waking up cold in the mornings when you left earlier than anticipated to get an early start on studying.

and today is the day. well, today was the day. but hours have passed and your exam surely was completed by now and mike hasn't heard from you. it's a sure sign of how it went, but he refuses to come to a conclusion until he hears your voice.

it's not a moment later until he gets his wish.

the phone rings and the second ring is interrupted by mike pulling the receiver up to his ear. "hello?"

it takes you a second to speak, but once you do, mike's face falls. "hey." your greeting is simple, but he hears the misery in the rasp of your voice.

"oh, baby." he doesn't say anything else, and neither do you. instead, mike reads the clock, 6:26 PM, and he looks into the living room to see abby staring at the TV.

"can we come over?"

it's just a little over an hour later and mike is knocking on your front door with abby behind him. he holds two mcdonalds bags, both soaked with grease on the bottom, in his freehand, and behind him, abby has the drink container.

"don't drop it," mike reminds her, sparing a glance over his shoulder as he waits for you to open the door.

"i won't." she grumbles through a determined frown, but her face brightens as the door swings open. abby squeals your name, and mike turns around, a small smile on his face because he'd missed you, too.

there you are in front of him, face a little puffy and eyes a little red, but you smile down at his little sister anyway.

"abby! it's so good to see you." abby thrusts the drinks out towards you, mentioning the mcflurry that sits in the fourth spot with a wide grin. you gasp, "for me?" and abby nods.

abby walks into your house like it's hers, and you don't protest, instead hovering at the door faced with mike. he doesn't mention the exam, he doesn't mention your appearance. instead he pulls you into his chest with one hand, holding the fast food bags out to the side with the other, and presses a kiss into the side of your head.

"it's good to see you," he tells you, voice nothing but earnest.

you hum and mike feels you take a deep breath, as if you're finally relaxing. he expects you to repeat his sentiment, but he's not upset when you don't.

the three of you end up sitting on your living room floor rewatching 'good burger' for at least the tenth time. at this point, abby says the infamous line, doing so cheerfully to the point where you and mike feel weird if you don't do the same.

mike shares his fries with you when you run out, you pretend to not want to share your mcflurry but you end up doing so anyway. all three of you break out into a fit of giggles when mike takes his first sip of coke and chokes with the unexpected strength of it, and more giggles ensue when abby naively does the same.

by the end of the movie, you're full from carbs and sugar and you're cuddled into mike's side, both of your backs against the couch that abby lies asleep on. the credits start to roll when you speak, voice creaky and leaking pure sadness.

"i failed the exam."

it's silent. too silent. your eyes start to water and your throat constricts and suddenly you want to run into your bedroom and shut the door. but you don't. you stay seated, staring at the black screen as the white text starts to blur.

and when mike pulls you closer into his side, it's almost impossible for you to hold the tears back. so you don't.

mike coaxes them out by rubbing along your back, soothing circles up and down your worn in crewneck. you make a mess of his own sweatshirt, snot and tears mixing into a massive wet spot just below the hood at the shoulder.

he doesn't mind one bit, never ceasing his movements even whenever you start to calm down. abby has woken up at this point, and her little voice above you almost startles you.

"is everything okay?" words small, almost timid as if she's afraid of upsetting you more.

mike's chest rumbles. "everything's okay, abs." and then to you, "it's okay."

#mschmidtsworld!#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fluff #celeste writes fnaf #–𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 🪐

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biblio-smia · 5 months

Note

i love ur writing 🥹 i was wondering if you could write about spending christmas with mike and abby? i think that’d be really cute 🫶

hii thank you so much!! in anticipation of the holiday season here you go <3 please ignore any typos

the air is cold despite the bundles of blankets on you, biting at the tip of your nose and leaving frosty kisses on your cheeks. it's merciless as it pulls you from your peaceful sleep, making you pull up the covers with a groan. your body contracts, folding into itself in an attempt to bask in the warm air you've trapped underneath your blankets.

your alarm goes off and you groan.

your head peeks out to glance at the time. 7 a.m. too early. icy air enters your nose through a deep breath as your brain attempts to catch up and remind you of today's schedule.

you're about to nestle inside your blankets and go back to sleep when your eyes find your clock again.

december 24th.

how could you forget?

there's a few final things to pick up before heading over to mike's: stocking stuffers, some more wrapping paper, pre-made cookie dough (the three of you have decided to make dessert from scratch tonight, but you're sure mike will find a way to mess it up).

another gift for abby catches your eye in glimpses between people, mike's complaining that you always spoil abby ringing in your head (so you buy him another gift, too). you should've gotten a cart or at least picked up a basket but it's too late now that your hands are full. you keep your items close to your chest, fingers going a little numb from the thawing cookie dough, pushing through the overcrowded aisles. it's a relief once you finally check out, exchanging your money for easier-to-carry bags full of your items.

the air is vicious when you step outside, refusing to mellow out. it forces you to hurry to your car, getting inside and turning on the heat hastily. after you rub a little bit of feeling back into your hands, you waste no time in driving over to mike's. 7:58 a.m. perfectly on schedule.

you should've called to announce your arrival before even stepping out of your car. you've knocked and can't expect mike to have been waiting at the door for you, but every second feels like torture when the wind is roughing you up.

your face splits into a grin when the door opens, mike tugging you inside, chilled through his red sweater from just the gust of wind that blew in with the quick opening of his door. he greets you with a warm hug, helps you hang the thick coat that is no longer appropriate for his warm home.

the schmidt house is somehow cozier than it usually feels, adorned with lights and greenery (that you'd helped put up). a christmas tree sits in the corner of the living room, decades old and the perfect size for the space, glittery ornaments reflecting the yellow lights of the small bulbs hidden between the branches of the plastic green tree. there are other ornaments, too - special ones, like old family photos mike still liked to put up, and ones abby had crafted herself. there were even some little snowmen mike had made when he was a kid, out of popsicle sticks and paint. you were proud to say there was an ornament you had gifted mike and abby on the tree, a little reindeer frame with a photo of the siblings inside.

"have you eaten yet? i'm almost done with breakfast." mike offers, resuming his role in the kitchen and attending to the eggs and strips of bacon on the stove.

you shake your head. "i haven't," you admit and mike nods, pulling out three plates from the cabinet.

"you're not allowed to look at these," you motion to the shopping bag you hold, a little lighter now that you've set the cookie dough on the counter. you're on your way to mike's room to set the gifts down before abby spots them when mike scoffs, looking pointedly at the cookie dough.

"you don't believe in me?" he asks playfully, picking up the container to store in the fridge.

"of course not!" you call from the hallway.

you take the small slot of solitude to quickly wrap the gifts you'd bought, knowing you won't have another chance with the busy schedule the three of you had planned. as you'd suspected, mike had been on his last scraps of wrapping paper, forcing you to wrap each gift in a different design. you uncapped a sharpie, wrote abby on one and mike on the other, cleaned up your area, and set the bag aside once again. your timing is perfect - you slip out of mike's room to see mike padding down the hall. you hear the creak of the carpeted wood as he comes up behind you, hand slipping easily on your shoulder as you quietly open abby's door. the two of you slip in to the dimly lit room, overcast sky letting grey shine through.

abby is curled up into herself, arms squeezing the life out of one of many stuffed animals, tightly wrapped blankets suffocating the teddy bear in her arms even more.

you're hesitant to wake her, but you know how upset she'll be if you don't. mike sits carefully and places a hand on the lump of abby that vaguely resembles a part of her arm, attempting to wake her through gentle shaking.

abby stirs but groans, disappearing further under the covers, conserving the warmth she has there.

"abby," mike sings. "it's christmas eve."

you can almost see abby's eyes widen before she even appears, thick blankets and bear thrown aside as abby shoots up. her head moves excitedly as she just now registers your presence in the room, throwing herself into mike's lap and wrapping her arms around him, giggling ecstatically. it's not long before she's moved onto you, gripping onto you tightly like she always does when she doesn't want you to leave.

but you're planning on spending at least a few more hours with the schmidts.

"c'mon, breakfast is ready," you say sweetly, tugging abby towards the bathroom gently.

"i can smell the bacon!" abby exclaims, smiling over at mike. he follows the two of you out, a discreet arm on your back pulling you towards the kitchen to allow abby a chance to wash up.

you expect mike to pull away from you once you arrive, to begin serving the still-hot breakfast he has prepared - but he doesn't. the arm on your back slides, but doesn't leave, as mike wraps his other arm around you, hands joining at your front. he rests his head against you, hold a little lazy but warm nonetheless. your hands wiggle between his, fingers clasping his. mike makes no move to leave and you laugh, elbowing him lightly.

"get off."

this just makes mike hold you tighter.

"mike!"

mike groans against you but doesn't move, forcing you to wiggle your hands out of his grasp and learn how to walk with a new weight attached to you. you eventually make it to the stove, mike giving you the courtesy of freeing your arms and allowing you to begin plating breakfast.

mike doesn't let go until all three plates are full of warm food, straining a little to press a kiss on your face before grabbing two of the plates and moving them to the little dining table. you're just setting down the last one when abby reappears, eyes bright and body cozy in a very festive sweater.

"where's yours?" abby demands, looking pointedly at mike. his mouth forms a little o, getting up from his spot at the table to start heading to his room.

"don't worry," abby continues, uncrossing her arms and looking up sweetly at you as she slides into her seat for breakfast, smile wide as she picks up her fork. "we got you one, too."

with plates cleared and bellies full (and adorned with matching sweaters), abby seizes the opportunity to lay out the schedule for the day.

"okay," she begins, pushing her essentially clean (save for a few crumbs) plate away, folding her hands neatly in front of her. "christmas movies," abby says, looking between you and mike for confirmation. "christmas cookies." you nod when abby's eyes land on you, leaning forward in anticipation. "and... we can go look at the lights?" abby looks at mike hopefully, and who is he to say deny her request?

"there's a neighborhood, like, 40 minutes away that goes absolutely crazy with christmas decorations. abby's been wanting to see it forever." mike informs you before giving abby a smile. "we can go look at the lights."

abby cheers and you laugh, moving to pick up the plates from the table. "so, abs, what movie do you wanna watch first?"

"we can take turns picking!" abby calls as she speeds to the couch, making space for both you and mike as she tugs on the blanket hanging on the back of the couch.

"well, i think the youngest should go first," you call back as you dump the plates and cutlery into the sink, mike bringing over the cups you'd all used. mike doesn't even give you the chance to turn on the faucet before you're pushed out of the way. of course, you shove mike's shoulder (though can you really even call it a shove?).

abby pats the seat next to her excitedly and you grab the small case of dvds, finding the festive ones and discussing the various options with abby. she finally chooses the grinch (the animated one, because the real one still freaked her out). mike is just coming over when she's made her decision, taking the dvds from you and sliding the grinch into the dvd player.

mike settles next to you as the animation begins to play, arm landing around your shoulders as you relax between him and abby. the grinch ends quickly, but you all make it through an entire round of turns and almost 3 hours of animated films before mike is gently pulling away from you and standing, eyeing the clock and muttering something about dinner. it's early, but mike is back soon enough after putting something in the oven.

he's been really trying to make this year the best christmas for abby: decorating much more than he normally would, trying to budget for presents he'd normally never look twice at. making you an essential piece of their christmas.

abby adores you, obviously. almost as much (if not as much) as mike does. while mike and abby have bonded more on their own, mike credits you for making the house feel warmer. for making it feel like he has a family again.

he's really trying to not let that thought terrify him.

but he knows abby feels it, too. the more frequently you come over and the longer you stay, the more it feels like you're supposed to be living with them, an integral piece of the schmidt house that just fits.

mike knows he'd like you around for as long as you'd let him. but for now, it's christmas, and mike wants to remember every moment.

there's a small camera in one of the drawers of a cabinet, one that mike made sure to charge before today. he pulls it out now, snaps a quick photo of you and abby cuddled up on the couch, very invested in home alone on the screen. mike smiles at the result that flashes on the small camera screen, setting it down on the table that sits in front of the couch before settling into his designated spot once more.

you glance curiously from mike to the camera, reaching for it carefully to not disturb abby too much. you let go of her gently, power on the camera and point the lens towards mike. you manage to take a photo of him caught off-guard, and another as he realizes what you're doing and smiles. you make a mental note to back up the sd card before leaving as you shut the camera off again, letting it sit on the coffee table for later.

you're about halfway through home alone 2 (it's no longer abby's turn, but you're all picking movies she wants to watch, anyways), when mike shifts out from under you again, whispering that he's gonna start making dinner.

"hey, abs, think you can finish this one by yourself?" you ask quietly, motioning to the movie.

"hmm," abby hums. "only if you guys make mac n' cheese."

you laugh, press a kiss to her forehead. "deal."

mike has already started pulling out pots and pans, various ingredients from the fridge and pantry littering the counter tops. mike stands, hands on his hips and head tilted in confusion as he looked down at a small notebook.

you come over and place a hand on mike's shoulder with hopes to soothe. you peer over to see what is testing mike and find a recipe for breaded chicken.

"what are we making?" you ask.

"i have no clue," mike admits with a sigh, flipping through the book.

"abby requested mac n' cheese," you offer.

"well that i can make." mike shuts the book and you smile, moving to reach for the ingredients you know you'll need. "i've got it," mike insists, though you've learned that that means he doesn't want to bother you.

"i know you do," you say, kissing his cheek. you reach for a medium-sized pot and mike bites his lip. his chest is warm as he steps out of your way, passing you ingredients and giving you directions as you start on dish one, together.

abby groans as she lets her fork clatter to her plate. "i'm so full, but it's so good!"

you laugh, pulling abby's plate away from her and scraping the last little bites of her second helping onto your own plate. "don't worry, we have a ton of leftovers."

"start getting ready, abby," mike says, finishing his own plate and smiling as abby cheers. "make sure to bundle up! it's cold," mike calls after abby, who's already racing down the hallway.

mike shakes his head and you're grinning. the two of you shove the last few forkfuls of food in your mouths, anxious to start heading out before it starts getting too crowded. the sun has almost completely set, the winter days making the days feel shorter. today, though, has called for a packed schedule.

you insist on cleaning up this time, pushing mike towards his room to go get ready. abby and mike reappear as you're pulling on the coat you shed that morning. mike buttons up abby's thick coat, wrapping a thick scarf around her.

of course, mike has one for you, too.

it's a warm, knit black one that you've seen mike wearing on multiple occasions. he wraps it around you twice, tying it off and making sure it's not too tight. you fix the collar of mike's coat, smoothing it flat with your hands. mike's hands linger on your scarf while his eyes have caught yours.

they're still so mesmerizing, a warm shade of brown that reflects the little lights hung up around the house. he's smiling, shyly under your gaze, but it spreads through his face and creates a glint in his eyes.

abby pulls on the crook of your arm, pulling your hand off of mike's chest. "let's gooo!"

"okay, okay," mike laughs, taking his hands off you and reaching for his keys. abby's hand is in yours as you step outside into the freezing afternoon, hurrying to the car with mike right on your trail. the heat blasts before the last door even shuts, all three of you shivering despite your layers.

mike turns up the radio to the inevitable christmas music playing, though it only fuels your festive spirits. the drive is anything but quiet, between the songs on the radio and abby telling you all about the great christmas party her class had just before break, there's enough chatter and laughter to last longer than the forty minute ride.

the roads are pitch black, thick clouds covering the shine of the moon as mike makes the final turn. the world is suddenly light up, huge blowups of famous christmas characters decorating almost every lawn, houses adorned with enough lights that you're sure would triple your electricity bill. there are huge candy canes, little christmas gnomes, even fake snow - no, real snow.

"oh, my god!" you laugh, pointing at the little white dots on mike's windshield.

"it's snowing!" abby cries, begging mike to get out and enjoy it. he yields and finds a place to park near the front of the huge neighborhood. the three of you are out, joining the small crowds of people who have made it out of their cozy houses on christmas eve to come see the lights.

abby is off, though mike warns her not to go too far, the wet snow not enough to keep her from admiring the glowing displays of rudolph and frosty.

you and mike hang back, watching her from the sidewalks, arms linked. snow collects quickly on your coats due to your leisurely paces, but it's too cold to retract your hands from your pockets to wipe it off.

"look!" abby calls from the next lawn over. "hot chocolate!"

sure enough, one kind neighbor is standing with a table full of hot drinks. three of them are picked up and you know the warmth of the drink and its sugar content is going to keep abby going for a while.

you and mike comment on each house, pointing out all the small details, how one house has been made to look one made out of gingerbread, complete with fake gumdrops. you've even began to give each house a rating out of five, as if you were judges on one of those light fight shows that always came on in the evenings.

"what about this one?" you stand in front of a home that looks like a christmas disco, bright flashing lights and colorful, mismatched decorations taking over the small plot of land.

"hmmm," mike hums through a sip of his drink. "i think three stars. maybe two, it's kind of giving me a headache."

you laugh and mike pulls you along to the next house that abby waves you towards, where a real-life santa has stopped, taking a break before his next round of dropping off gifts.

mike pats his pockets, sighing. "i forgot-"

"this?" you pull out the small camera from your pocket and mike grins. the two of you take turns taking photos of abby and santa, all wide smiles as santa picks abby up.

"here, why don't you two get in there?" a voice behind you speaks, an older woman coming up, patting your arms and reaching for the camera.

"oh, thank you," mike accepts graciously, pointing out the right button to click as he hands it over. the two of you join abby, posing next to santa for a few photos, flash almost blinding you a few too many times.

"thank you so much," you say gratefully, taking back the camera as mike joins you and abby begins saying her goodbyes.

"of course, dear. you two have a beautiful daughter." the woman smiles so wide you can't bring yourself to correct her.

"oh, she's not-"

"thank you," you interrupt. "and merry christmas."

"merry christmas," the woman repeats, heading off to rejoin her own friends, who point and coo at abby even from where they stand.

mike is looking at you with a smile on his face, wondering if there's any way you could possibly share his sentiments around the energy you bring when the three of you are together. he doesn't have time to ask, though, as abby comes up to you.

"ready to go?" mike asks, recognizing the tired look on her face.

abby nods and begins walking in front of the two of your, navigating back to the car. you slide your hand, cold from its exposure to the air, into mike's, pulling him into your coat pocket. you give him a kiss, lips warm from the drink you'd finished and the two of you are on your way, following abby closely.

you'd been forced to stomp the wet mush off your shoes before stepping inside, leaving all three pairs of shoes over a towel to avoid getting the floor wet.

the three of you shed your layers, stripping until the three of you sit in the matching christmas sweaters you'd started in.

"more hot chocolate?" you ask from the kitchen, thinking it's the perfect time to start baking some cookies.

"yes, please!" abby chimes as she climbs back under the blankets on the couch.

the hot milk you pour for the drink warms your hands, but the way abby's face lights up as you set the mug in her hands warms your heart. you waited until the drink was cool enough to drink before bringing it over, knowing abby did not have a patient bone in her body. she goes in for a sip immediately, bobbing for some of the melting marshmallows that sit on top.

"thank you," abby grins, licking chocolate from her top lip.

"you're welcome," you laugh, letting her attention to fall back to the tv behind you as you make your way back to the kitchen where two more mugs sit on the counter, steam coming out in little white wisps.

you bring mike's mug over(the one abby got him, the one that says WORLD"S BEST BROTHER), but considering he has cookie dough up to his wrists, you bring the warm cup up to his lips instead. mike takes a careful sip, humming at the taste of the sweet chocolate.

"does this look right?" mike asks with a little desperation in his voice as you set his mug down a safe distance away.

you take a look inside the large bowl he's working with, tilting your head at the mixture that doesn't quite look like the cookie dough you buy from the store.

"i think you added too much milk?" you offer.

"i didn't add milk," mike sighs, trying to keep his sleeves up and out of... whatever what was in that bowl.

you keep yourself from laughing with a bite of your lip, rolling mike's sleeves up for him. "here." you reach for the flour, adding in more and letting mike mix it around until it finally begins to resemble something more akin to cookie dough. you dare to try it, making a face that mike can't discern the meaning of.

"is it good?" mike asks, opening his mouth for a spoonful of the dough from you you.

"well, it's not bad," you say, putting the small spoon in mike's mouth for him to try. mike makes a face similar to the one you're sure you made, staring down at the bowl.

"how about we just make these chocolate chip cookies instead?" you offer, already moving to get the pre-made sugar cookie dough out of the fridge.

"yeah, that'll be better." mike scrapes as much of the cookie dough as he can from his fingers, washing the rest off in the sink and grabbing chocolate chips to add in. you're pulling out sheet trays to place all the cookies out and abby is called over to help cut out shapes to decorate later.

the sugar has taken its affect. abby bounces around, barely unable to wait until the short 12 minutes on the timer go off, staring at the cooling cookies on the counter as if that'd make them cold enough to decorate, faster.

at least she's still up - you're really hoping to see her open a gift at midnight.

"can we decorate them now?" abby asks, gently pressing on one of the sugar cookies to check its temperature. "they're cool."

you press a finger on the surface of the cookie, right next to hers. she's right - they're perfectly room temperature. you nod and abby cheers, taking a bit of a chocolate chip cookie as she starts decorating a cookie in the shape of a christmas tree.

"she is going to crash so hard later," you laugh with mike as the two you of start on your own cookies.

and abby does, in fact, crash hard.

her sugar-fueled energy had finally run out, leaving her head in mike's lap and the rest of her body sprawled out on you. the laughter that echoed in the kitchen had died down, cookies eaten, frosting spread on noses wiped off and licked off lips. you laid against mike's chest, watching the holiday movie playing with half-lidded eyes.

"are you asleep?" mike whispers when he hears your breathing even out for the second time.

"i'm not," you insist, blinking yourself awake.

mike laughs quietly, clearly not believing you.

"hey," he nudges you. "it's past midnight. merry christmas." mike turns his head to kiss your cheek, lips warm against your skin.

"merry christmas," you whisper back, trying to gently recover your hand from under abby to hold mike's.

but abby twists and turns until her eyes slowly blink open and she yawns, curling up closer to you and mike from underneath the blanket.

"what time is it?" she asks sleepily, though she makes no move to get up to go to bed. that's okay - mike will gladly carry her.

"merry christmas, abs. it's past twelve."

mike wasn't expecting abby to shoot up, giddy smile overriding any tiredness she felt.

"it's christmas!" abby cries, checking the clock just to make sure.

"merry christmas," you laugh, arms gently around abby to make sure she doesn't hit the floor in her excitement.

"merry christmas!" abby replies, throwing her arms around your torso and pressing her head in your neck, squeezing hard.

"merry christmas, mike!" abby moves on to mike, wrapping her arms around her neck as she hugs him tight.

abby is out of your reach quickly, untangling herself from the blankets and racing towards the christmas tree. "everyone has to open one!" abby calls, waving the two of you over.

"okay, let's see," you say, taking the blanket off both you and mike as you go to join abby. there's not a lot of presents under the tree, but both you and mike have worked together over the months to make sure that'll change by morning.

"i say, always go for the biggest," mike says, reaching for the biggest wrapped gift with his name on it - which happened to be from abby. you and abby exchange a knowing look and the two of you giggle, knowing exactly what the present mike picked up is.

you remember when abby shyly approached you with an idea in her head and a drawing in her hand. it'd taken a lot of work to put together, but abby had been so proud of you, excitedly helping you wrap it and unable to wait for mike's reaction to the gift.

well, here it was.

mike glances between the two of you with a smile as he tears the gift paper, revealing a sweater, multi-colored and uniquely decorated by abby.

"woahh!" mike grins, examining the details on the sweater before pulling it on. "it's beautiful. it fits great. it's perfect, abby, thank you. i love it." mike pulls in abby for a hug and she giggles, admiring how the sweater looks on mike. it's... definitely unique, but you know mike will wear it out anyway. the whole thing makes you smile so hard you barely register abby and mike looking at you expectantly, gesturing for you to pick a gift yourself.

"you know, i think i'll pick a small one," you reach for a small bag with both abby's and mike's names on it. you sift through the tissue paper to find a small basket filled with your favorite treats and, most importantly, a small handmade bracelet. you pick it up with a smile, slipping it on and looking up to see abby pull out two matching ones - one for her, one for mike.

"now we all match," abby grins.

'i love it!" you laugh, pulling them both in for a hug, holding up your wrists to look at the three bracelets together.

"okay, last one for tonight," mike says, fighting back a yawn. he's the only one who hasn't fallen asleep (even if only a little bit) tonight and it makes you frown ever-so-slightly.

"mmmm, i choose... this one!" abby reaches for an oddly-shaped, medium-sized gift wrapped in dark red paper with her name and yours written on it. she tears through the paper and the tape holding it together easily, eyes bright once they register the stuffed animal she's been wanting forever in her hands. abby's in your lap again, the little beaver plush you'd gotten her squished in between the two of you as she hugs you tight, thanking you profusely. you laugh, rubbing her back and saying something about the beaver not being able to breathe properly from where it's at right now.

abby lets go, plushie held tight in her hands as she stands, big yawn sending her body into a full stretch.

"okay, i think that means it's time for bed," mike says, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. "we'll open more presents as soon as you wake up."

that makes abby grin and she's in bed in no time. you clean up the area under the tree a little, picking up all the trash and putting the gifts aside for safe-keeping.

you enter abby's room to kiss her goodnight, following mike out and quietly moving gifts from mike's closet to their rightful place under the tree. the two of you clean up the living room: folding the blankets, doing any leftover dishes, saving leftovers and wiping off the counters.

the exhaustion is beginning to kick in, evident in mike's tired eyes. but the night is coming to an end and sweet sleep awaits you.

"you're staying over tonight, right?" mike asks, voice quiet and a little shy.

"well, i already brought clothes, so, yes." you're grinning and mike's face splits into a smile. you're following him into his room and into his bed, the two of you knowing how to share the small space comfortably after a few times now.

you're grateful for the warmth mike provides, for the feeling of security his arms give you. it's really been the perfect christmas already and it's only technically only halfway over. the plan for tomorrow is more or less the same, watching movies together and doing any other typical christmas activities you can think of. you're not worried about inadequate sleep tonight - the chances of abby waking up before ten a.m. are more than unlikely.

late nights in, late mornings. spending time with your favorite people in the world. it's an unbeatable feeling, warming your heart and making a dopey smile appear on your face.

mike can tell you're not sleep yet, feels you shift a little beside him. you've turned to look at him better and he's trying to figure out why when you kiss him. it's dark, but you've essentially memorized is face in this exact lighting.

"goodnight kiss?" mike asks cheekily, pulling you closer.

"something like that," you grin. "today was a good day."

"a really good day. it's been so long since we've had that much fun on christmas," mike admits, a little quietly.

you're quiet, too. you run a hand through mike's hair slowly, fingers wrapping around his curls.

"i love you," mike whispers as though it's the first time he's saying it. and even though it's not, it still makes you smile like it is.

"i love you, too." you kiss him again but he doesn't let you go as quickly as before, hanging on to you and capturing you again a few more times first.

"okay," you laugh between kisses, giving mike one final one. "last one. that's your goodnight kiss."

mike groans, tucking his head in the crook of your neck, gently leaving kisses there. "fine," he mutters against the skin of your neck.

"go to sleep," you roll your eyes playfully, letting mike rest half on you, hands on his back and in his hair.

"i am," mike insists, kissing your jaw before settling down, arm thrown over your body.

you're not quite sure who falls asleep first, but it feels like no time at all before abby is in the room, calling the both of you awake to keep opening presents.

though, her expression is worth it all, mouth agape and eyes wide upon seeing all the gifts that have magically appeared under the tree.

you and mike exchange a knowing glance when abby's not looking, very proud of yourselves.

and as the three of you sit, watching abby unwrap her presents, mike can't help but be a little impatient for the last gift you will open, a small little box from him that's been carefully hidden behind all the other presents.

because, while the past day has only further proven it, mike has known for a while that there's not a day he wants to spend without you - a promise that he hopes you'll accept along with that small piece of jewelry.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fluff #five nights at freddy's #fnaf x reader #fnaf movie #fnaf #v + mike #v writes #no reason this took almost a month to write... insane

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deathbecomesthem · 2 months

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Cat and Mouse | 1.8K

Eddie Munson x Preacher's Daughter!Reader

*This was a fic I wrote ages ago, and left orphaned. It was a Wheeler!Reader fic. I'm going to consider rewriting it as a more vague reader for inclusivity.

Warnings: Some suggestive language and ideas. Future chapters, if I continue this story, have lots of disturbing ideas about religious subjugation of women and girls.

Cat meets mouse when you see him. All rough edges and open hostility, but you see through it to his soft and sticky center. He is a treat that you want to bite into. A feast for your eyes. You know how to do this thing. How to make him weak in the knees with only a soft blink and tilt of your pretty neck. You brush a finger down, down to your collarbone, as if to brush away a stray hair, showing him where you want his lips to wander. This one will be easy; you think as you watch his glassy eyes follow your fingers.

This game is more than fun for you. It is necessary. It is life giving. It affirms your value in the world. To have a man at your mercy is powerful; you crave it just as you crave the feeling of flesh on flesh. Mouth on neck. Cock in hand. Fingers in your heat with pleasure vibrating down your spine to the tips of your fingers and toes. You know how to please yourself, of course, but to make a man come undone before you is bliss.

“Who is that?” Eddie can’t take his eyes from you, head leaned close to Steve’s ear so no one could overhear. He knows what you’re doing, it’s so obvious. In his mind, you might as well take your top off and throw your bra in his face.

“That is Nancy’s cousin. She’s hot, right? She’s also the sweetest person I’ve ever met. The kids love her.” Eddie blinks and tries to see it, any possible resemblance to Nancy or Mike. He can’t make it happen. He tries to think of this girl, this succubus, as a sweetheart that everyone loves. Can Steve not see that you’re playing with him?

“Uh, Steve, are you getting any vibes coming this way from her?” Steve cranes his neck to look back at Eddie in bewilderment. Apparently not is the thought that passes Eddie’s brain before Steve can form the words to reply.

“Uh, no man. No vibes.” His concern turns into frustration after he notices the hunger Eddie has in his eyes while he looks at you. “Listen, don’t. She’s an absolute saintl. Her dad is a minister, she teaches Sunday school for god’s sake. Just don’t even think about it.” With that, Steve heads across the room to pull you away from Nancy and lead you, protectively, outside to sit by the pool with Dustin and Will.

Angel my ass. Eddie is the most perceptive person in the party. Sure, he has an impossibly hard time understanding certain social niceties, but he can read body language. He picks up on miniscule facial expressions that give away what a person is really thinking when they’re saying they’re fine, it’s all good, how about that weather, did you catch the sportsball game last night. He knows he’s not wrong about this. Steve, on the other hand, could be as dumb as a rock when it came to those subtleties.

Eddie sidles up next to Nancy and Robin as smoothly as possible, hoping to steer the conversation with delicacy. “Hey, beautiful ladies, how are we doing this gorgeous summer afternoon?” His giant grin is met with dramatic eye rolls from both girls. Delicacy failed.

“Laying it on pretty thick today, Munson.” Nancy wraps her arm around Eddie’s midsection in a gentle squeeze while Robin moves on to join Will and El in the next room. Nancy and Eddie had become thick as thieves in recent months to the absolute bafflement of the rest of the group. Opposites on the surface, yes, but just below the two were kindred spirits. Neither were likely to miss a trick.

“So, I see we have a guest in our midst today.” His eyebrows are raised with his signature grin still plastered on his goofy face. Nancy huffs a laugh and nods, knowingly.

“I see. Yes, she's my cousin. Kinda sorta. Her dad and my mom grew up together in the same church, closer than family. She’s truly, my best friend in the world.” Her eyebrows are quirked back to mirror his and a pinch of warning between. “Were you hoping to join the Bible study she leads on Friday nights?”

His sniggers are what finally breaks Nancy’s serious demeanor. A friendly smack lands on his shoulder. “Listen, Stevie tells me she’s a little innocent angel, but I swear the look she was giving me… It’s like she was eye fu-“ Nancy’s hands are in Eddie’s face to shut him up.

“Nope, don’t tell me.” The annoyed look on Nancy’s face makes Eddie’s guilt rear up. This was not something he should be talking to her about; he’s realized far too late. “Here is what I’ll tell you. Only this, and you never say anything like that to me ever again.” Her finger is pointed directly at Eddie’s nose and there is a flash of warning in her eyes. Eddie nods in assent and waves his hand for her to continue.

“She is the kindest person I know. Generous to a fault. She’s great with kids.” Eddie’s eyes are rolling. Steve has already said all of this to him. “Steve is clueless, like pretty much everyone else. Her parents are super strict, as you can imagine. But, no, she’s not as pristine as they think.”

Nancy can see Eddie gearing up for another question, and Nancy’s hands fly to her ears. “Nope, no more. Figure it out on your own. She’s just a girl, talk to her.” Nancy makes her way to the patio doors and turns back with one last piece of advice, “For gods sake, don’t listen to Steve about anything related to girls. He’s a hammer looking for any nail to pound and doesn’t understand nuance.”

She leaves Eddie giggling to himself and feeling at least a little relieved that he wasn’t imagining things. That angel had clocked him as soon as he walked in the door. The game seemed like it might be fun. And, also, a really stupid thing for him to try to play.

The sun reflected off the pool so brightly, you could feel your skin beginning to burn. The first to succumb to the heat were El and Robin with the younger boys following shortly behind. Sweaty clothes are in piles around the pool, everyone seemed to have the same idea to wear their bathing suits to Steve’s. You and Nancy packed suits in a backpack that sat inside the house. A drip of sweat started moving down your nose, and you relented.

“Nance, I’m going to get changed. I can’t sit out here like this anymore.” You leave Steve and Nancy to whatever petty argument they were having at the moment. It isn’t until you’re opening the door to the kitchen that you realize you haven’t seen that hot guy, Eddie, since Steve had whisked you away from your flirtation earlier. That won’t do.

Rounding the corner to the front of the house, you smell it. Naughty boy, you think as you spot him sneaking in the front door. As if a deer in headlights, he freezes, and relaxes when he realizes it’s not one of the younger kids, but you.

“Well, hello there. We haven’t met yet, have we?” Eddie’s eyes are twinkling at you. Pretty man, you think. He pushes himself away from the side of the house, and he starts to move towards you. He’s stalking, that’s the word, stalking, his way into your space as he gives a dramatic bow. On his way back up, he is slowly taking in your form, with no attempt to hide what he’s doing.

You offer your name and your hand and are greeted with a gentle kiss along your knuckles. Oh, this was going to be fun. “I’ve heard so much about you.” Your eyes have gone big, and you flutter your lashes, “Although, I guess most of it can’t be true or Aunt Karen would never let her kids near you.”

The Cheshire Cat had nothing on the grin Eddie was giving you. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe I’ve got her fooled.” Up close, this boy was beautiful. His eyes are chestnut pools rimmed red from the pot smoke that still clings to his skin. The wrinkles at the edges of his smile speak to you about his humor.

“I doubt that very much.” You’re slinking past him on your toes, face turned up towards his own. Your backpack is behind him. With a hand on his arm, you bend down, allowing your Eddie an excellent view of your posterior. “There it is. Are you going to swim with us, Eddie?”

“Uh,” Eddie clears his throat, “I didn’t bring a suit. I’m not much of a swimmer.” There is a slight flush starting at the apple of his cheeks while you stare him down with your doe eyes. You give him an exaggerated frown.

“Oh, Eddie, how sad.” Sitting on the couch, you rustle through the bag to find your suit. *zip* not in that pocket, *zip* not there either, one last *zip* with no luck and you turn your gaze back on the curly haired boy that’s still watching your every movement. “I must have forgotten my suit.” With a big sigh, you add, “If only someone would be willing to run me back to Aunt Karen’s house to get it.”

“Hmm, that’s too bad. Maybe you should go ask Nancy to take you back.” Eddie’s head is tilted at you with a little pout. There was no way he didn’t know what you were doing, but he wasn’t biting. Fine, be that way.

“I don’t want to ruin her fun; her suit is right here.” You hold up her pink suit to emphasize your point. “You’re not planning on swimming; would you be willing to give me a ride?” Eddie can barely contain himself with the looks you’re throwing his way, but this was not a game he would give in to that easily.

“Oh, I don’t know, Angel, I bet your Daddy wouldn’t be too thrilled to hear about you taking a ride with me. Maybe you should just hang out with me in the loungers and while the others swim.” You’re considering your next move, thinking about making him take the bait. You can see how close he is to relenting when the back door swings open with a dramatic clang.

With a scowl on her face, Nancy approaches you with a hand outstretched. “There you are. I was looking for my suit. It’s hotter than hell out there.” She rummages through the bag, pulling out a black and white polka suit in triumph. “Come on, let’s get changed.” She says, nodding in the direction of your pink suit.

A chuckle from Eddie rang through the room, “Cute suit, Angel. Can’t wait to see you in it.” With a wink, he’s heading through the house while your cheeks burn.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things

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