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#mike schimdt x you
legitclaptondavis · 2 days
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taps mic is this thing on?
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⋆。°✩ I'm the one and only Clapton Davis! give me sum time to get used to this platform
⋆。°✩ Riley practically begged me to get an account, so here I am! she also just said my blog looks atrocious, but I think it's pretty cool B)
⋆。°✩ A fun fact about me is that I ate 61 hotdogs in 3 mins, which I think says a lot about my pure and utter dedication to the grind
⋆。°✩ I love skateboarding, music, girls and guys, movies, and getting froyo [ specifically in that order ;) ]
⋆。°✩ I don’t rlly like dancing and conforming…and a couple of people, but i’m chill about it
⋆。°✩ Ask me anything!! or dm me? I could be in class tho :/
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Yolo!!
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sameschmidtdiffname · 3 months
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What's One More?
Mike Schmidt x AFAB! Reader
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Summery: The house is all to you and Mike, which is a strange feeling to Mike as he begins to realize how things are changing. But change isn't always a bad thing, is it?
Tags: Porn with plot barely, no use of Y/N, Reader has female pronouns, set after the events of the FNaF movie, pre-established relationship, breeding kink, dirty talk/talking through it, oral sex (fem recieving), face fucking, vaginal fingering, pet names, possessive sex/actions, marking, hair pulling, mentions of drinking, multiple rounds, aftercare, multiple orgasms, teasing, dumbification, overstimulation, this is possibly filthier than Princess imma be fr.
Notes: Yes I'm working on requests. Yes I'm working on part II for 'Easy Money.' Yes I'm working on 50 million different projects + writers block that's preventing me from posting as much as I'd like. But in the meantime, *rattles can* COME GET Y'ALLS DICK.
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The front door opened at the same time it does everyday, Mike slipping in quickly to evade the cold, bitter Febuary air that has turned his cheeks red while he called out his usual 'hello' to the house. His easy smile instantly appeared as soon as our eyes met, me standing at the stove giving the large pot of chilli its final stir just in time for his arrival home.
"Hey!" I said cheerfully, looking up from the boiling pot briefly before setting the lid back down, crossing the floor quickly to come collect his coat.
"Hey," he returned, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to my cheek as I undo his buttons, his hands coming to rest on my silk covered hips. "Never seen you in this before," he mumbled, pulling away slightly to get a better look.
"You like?" I ask, pushing the jacket off of his shoulders and folding it over my arms. "I've had this since freshman year. Found it in one of my boxes from the move." The robe is simple, thrifted but It'd been new when I'd gotten it. Emerald green and made from silk, if not silk like material- I'm no expert on fabrics, -reaching down to my ankles and showing off my curves, drawn tight around my waist to accent my figure. Simple floral patterns sewn into the collar decorate the robe, slightly darker than the rest of the fabric. His eyes wandered over my body, taking in the sight as he slowly removed his items from his pockets.
"You look nice," he said, almost sounding as if he was in a trance.
"Just nice?" I tease.
"The word 'motherly' comes to mind," he said. "Not- not in a weird way," he quickly added, blushing slightly. "Just- you cooking, dressed in that. Just kinda...." He's flustered, scratching at the back of his head as he tried to clarify what I already understand.
I smile at him, leaning closer. "Well, it's fitting," I teased.
It had been about a year since I moved in. Mike and I had met during a night out, our friends recognizing each other. Initially I thought the blonde he had been with- Vanessa, I would later learn, -had been a bit more than a friend. But after spending the night round a table, laughing and getting up one by one for drunken karaoke, Mike and I had made eye contact enough times to warrant my request for his number after I confirmed she wasn't.
"Seriously?" He asked when I'd passed him the notepad specifically meant for numbers that I kept in my purse.
"Yeah," I'd laughed, slightly- okay, maybe more than slightly -drunk. "You're hot."
I was three beers and one shot of straight tequila into the night when I'd asked, everyone beginning to debate who would call a taxi and who would ride with who. I felt rather confident.
His eyes narrowed, his cheeks red most likely from alcohol. Although he'd only had the one beer.
"Oh shit," I giggled stupidly. "Did I read things wrong? Because I thought-"
"No! You didn't," he quickly said, cutting me off. He scribbled his number down quickly, scratchy enough that I could barely read it, and he could sense that.
"You want me to write it again?" He asked sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.
"Maybe," I giggled. "Or I can have my friend ask Vanessa if I get it wrong."
I got it wrong. Twice. But that was my fault since I called as soon as I'd gotten home, bleary eyed and claiming to just be checking to see if he got home alright, which wasn't a total lie. Then he asked if I wanted to get Chinese the next day. And how am I supposed to say no to an offer like that?
When he first brought up his sister I think he expected me to run for the hills. God, no. Not a man committed to caring for his baby sister. Please.
When I'd met the girl she was sly, simply saying "Oh, you're who he won't talk about." Mike seemed ready to throttle her, and I was ready to step in and help take care of her however much they needed me to. Who could say no to a kid like that?
Three years in and Mike had been nervous asking for me to move in. We'd both had the idea, but we both were terrified that the other would immediately shoot it down. But it was almost ridiculous to worry about such a thing. Mike had visited me all the time with Abby in tow, I visited Mike. Eventually we were at the point that I was at his house more often than I was at my own apartment. And with Abby getting older and beginning to have a life of her own, one that I could tell Mike was anxious about her having, it was about time a serious talk be had about the future of our relationship.
"You know, married couples have better taxes," I said casually one day while huddled around the kitchen table, papers strewn all over the place and some even on the floor while I punched numbers into a calculator. I think that nearly killed Mike, who shot out air through his nose hard enough all of his coffee covered his face and hair.
Then a week later he'd flipped through channels lazily, commenting on how awful the channels were before landing on the one of the marketers selling jewelry for prices that could make you shit.
"That's a nice ring," he commented. "Don't you think?"
I looked up from my book, narrowing my eyes to focus my vision. "Ooh, it is," I agreed.
"What kind of rings do you like? Like, what's your favorite?" He asked.
"Subtle," I deadpanned, smiling. "I'm coming with you to pick it out."
We picked up a new set of housekeys first.
"Get a room," Abby groaned, wandering in to flop onto the couch.
"Don't flop, you'll hit your head," Mike and I both scolded, smiles growing as we heard the other. Abby simply groaned louder, rolling her eyes.
"Yeah, that's punishment enough," I muttered, giggling slightly. I moved to the coat closet, hanging up Mike's jacket. "How was work?" I asked him.
Mike shrugged, leaning against the wall. "It was good. Long. Shop gets cold this time of year," he said.
"Well, dinner will help. It's done, by the way. Timed it just right," I said with a wide smile. Mike returned it, stepping closer to wrap his arms around me once more and say a soft 'thank you' before pressing his lips to mine.
"Seriously, a room," Abby groaned.
"There's one right there with a table that needs set. Go on," I said to her, gesturing towards the adjacent room. She rolled her eyes once more, getting up off the couch and grumbling as she made her way to the cabinets.
"Wow," Mike chuckled. "She's got attitude."
"She's fourteen, we should be lucky she hasn't killed us in her sleep," I said into his ear, laughing.
"Don't you mean ours?"
"No."
The dinner is nice. A scene right out of a book, all of us gathered around the table eating the warm food as we discuss our days, Mike and I shooting each other glances here or there when we think Abby, who's in the middle of some long story neither of us are truly able to give our attention towards, won't notice. Eventually his hand found mine under the table, grasping it gently and squeezing as I hold his gaze, smiling in the same idiotic manner he always brings out of me.
"It's tonight. I know it's short notice but all of my friends are going and her parents will be there," Abby said quickly, inturrupting our mental conversation with her pleading eyes.
"Wait a minute, back up. What's happening?" Mike said, blinking and refocusing.
"The sleepover," Abby said emphatically. "I didn't find out about it until today and my friends invited me. Can I go?"
Mike opened his mouth to respond, his eyes worried and glancing over to me.
"Who is this?" He asked.
"Lisa."
"Lisa?"
"Lisa Browning," I reminded him.
"Oh. And this is at her house?" He asked.
"Yes," Abby moaned in frustration, clearly impatient for her answer.
Mike and I glanced at each other. His eyes are unsure, looking to me for my thoughts.
"She visits them all the time, I don't see why not," I said. I turn to Abby. "Is her mom picking you up?"
"She can," Abby said quickly.
Mike is still unconvinced, I can tell by his grasp on my hand.
"You have that phone we bought you for Christmas?" I asked her. She nodded. Since recieving the cheap, purple Motorola she hadn't let it out of her grasp. "If you go, will you call us when you get there, when you guys are going to sleep? Any location change you'll run by us first?" I asked. Abby nodded again, her eyes shifting to Mike once more, wide with teenage desperation.
It was hard for Mike watching her get older. It would scare any parent, but take a man who'd watched his brother be kidnapped and his parents wilt away leaving him to step up? There were days Mike would wake hyperventilating, terrified something would happen to her if he didn't do something. It took convincing, but over time I had convinced him to relax, told him she was smart. Once I'd told him all the trouble I'd survived, he finally learned to catch his breath before jumping into several questions about how I was still alive with a new panic.
With a squeeze of my hand, he nodded.
"Check in. If you don't, I'll call her mom."
"Unnecessary, I'll call," Abby said, leaping from her seat and already dialing a number.
"Wash your plate!" Mike tried to tell her, but she was already gone.
"I'll get her plate, let her go," I chuckled. Mike sighs beside me, wiping his face with his hand.
"You think she'll be okay?" He asked me.
"I think fourteen year olds spend their days watching scary movies and MTV, nothing she won't do here," I said, taking a spoonful of chilli into my mouth. After I swallow I add, "Besides, it gives us the chance for some alone time."
That solidified the decision in his mind.
Much to Abby's embarrassment, Mike reminded Mrs. Browning to have Abby call us to check in, and with her reassurement he finally relaxed, walking back into the house once they're out of sight.
As I finish drying the dishes, I feel his hands settle on my hips, warm and large as he sinks his head into the crook of my neck.
"Where did the time go?" He mused, moreso to himself than to me.
"Feeling old?" I teased.
"Yes."
"Hot."
"Shut up," he groaned, laughing into my neck.
"'Oh my God, get a room,'" I groan in a fake voice, my laughter joining in.
"Are we gross?" He asked, wrinkling his nose.
"A little," I concede. "I mean, imagine how you're gonna feel when she brings home a boyfriend."
At that his eyes widen and he groans. "I don't wanna deal with teenage boys," he moaned, pulling away to lean against the counter in front of me.
"Oh, they're coming. Just you wait. I was this age when I got my first boyfriend," I warned him.
"Teenage boys are idiots," he said.
"Teenage girls are terrifying," I add. At that he nods, eyebrows raised in agreement. "Oh, she could bring home a girl instead!"
"You know what, I'd prefer that. Less trouble actually," he decided.
"You'll survive," I tell him, shaking my head as I set the dish inside the cabinet with a small clatter. He sighed, smiling to himself in thought.
"I remember when she was a baby. So tiny," he said softly. "You should've seen her. So cute. Smelled good, too."
"You've been smiling at babies a lot, you know," I teased, shutting the cabinet and putting away the dishcloth. "Something on your mind?"
Mike blushed, waving his hand. "Nah." He paused. "...kinda," he admitted. I chuckled. Every time we'd passed a couple our age walking through the store with a baby in tow, Mike was instantly softened. His usual automatic glare giving way to a little smile as he'd wave at the tiny human, maybe even making a face to make them laugh. It'd been entertaining when ones mother once caught him with his cheeks puffed out and eyes crossed, the baby letting out a huge shriek of laughter at the sight. He hid in the soup aisle for awhile after that while I tried not to cry from laughter.
"We still have plenty of Abby's old baby stuff in the garage, you know," I said. It wasn't a new conversation, we had both agreed it was something we wanted when the time came. "Spare room, stable jobs, great sex."
Mike's wide eyes watched me as I slowly trailed closer. "Good genetics," he mumbled.
"I don't see any reason we couldn't put any use to those things," I mused, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and leaning into him.
"I can't tell if you're serious," he said, his eyes narrowing.
"Even Abby would like it. Said we're taking forever as is," I said cooly. He laughed at that.
"No she didn't," he said.
"She did!"
"Abby, the one who can't even see us in the same room without threatening suicide?"
"Listen, babies are different," I laughed, shrugging. He eyed me carefully, looking me up and down before saying anything.
"You'd like that?" He asked finally, wrapping his arm around my waist.
"I'm living in your house, wearing a ring and making dinner for you and your little sister that I've been helping you raise for four years. What is one more commitment?" I asked.
"It's a human being," he pointed out.
"Oh, fuck that then. None of those shits are gonna live in my house," I deadpanned. He laughed, leaning in to catch my lips in a kiss.
"Be our human being," he said softly.
"That means it'll be funny," I said just as soft.
"It could have your eyes."
"Could have your nose."
"Yours is better."
"You're right."
He smacks my ass gently, chuckling as his eyes darken pleasantly. "Should we give it a try?" He asked, his voice low and rough in my ear.
"I'd say it's about time you asked."
Mike hiked me onto his shoulder, carrying me through the house and pushing open the door to our room as I giggled wildly, feeling the bed underneath of me as he flung me down, fingers searching for the ties of my robe.
"You're sure about this?" He asked, eyes watching me carefully. "This isn't just some sex thing?"
I laughed, feeling him struggle with the knot.
"Not a sex thing," I clarify. "Although admittedly hot. Do you need help?"
"The fuck did you do to this thing?" He asked, laughing but brows furrowed in frustration. I reached to pull on the string and give it one simple tug, making it come undone to reveal my simple underwear underneath.
"I like coming home to this," he said, his voice deep and husky. "You look so comfortable here. So perfect. House is so much brighter with you in it. Just so perfect."
His lips wander on my chest, first working on the valley between my breasts, his teeth nipping at the band of my bra. He tugged it upwards, snapping it against my skin harshly. A soft moan escapes me, and I allow my legs to fall open to offer him better access. He takes the opportunity, settling his body perfectly against mine as his lips begin to trail upwards to my throat.
"I love waking up next to you in the morning. I sleep so much easier with you here, feeling your breath against me as soon as I wake up. You've got creative methods to keep me up too when I don't want to be," he teased. His hands find my hips, squeezing them as he thrust our clothed hips together, making us both groan. "Are you already wet?" He asked me, nipping at my throat.
"Gotta have something to think about while I cook," I teased. He chuckled. His lips find purchase and begin sucking on my skin, creating a dark mark on the front of my throat that will only be properly covered by a sweater. I moaned slightly louder, rocking my hips slowly against his. His lips moved slightly higher, creating another, then repeating until a dotted line of dark hickies lay upon my throat, marking me all the way to just under my chin. As he sucked on the edge of my jawline, I let out a high pitched whine, digging my hands into my own hair as I tried to not rush through this.
"You sound so pretty like this," Mike said against my skin, his breath warm. "Only thing prettier is how you look." His warm hand cupped my cheek, his thumb stroking my cheekbone softly.
"Talk to me," he said softly, staying still aside from the gentle stroke of his thumb. His eyes are soft, black in the dim lighting from his blown out pupils. He looks so sweet, so ready to please. If I said the word he'd do anything so long as it made me happy.
I cup his face with my hands, pulling him towards me to capture his lips in a soft kiss. His lips are warm against mine, wet from his own spit from creating the dark marks against me. He moaned softly, his tongue swiping at my lower lip to ask permission for access. I grant it, parting my lips slightly and gasping as his tongue quickly slides in, deep in my mouth and dominating the kiss as his grasp on me tightened. It felt as though he was desperate, like a dying man trying to experience his last contact with another human being ever in his life. I tried to return the kiss with as much frenzy, but his hands on either side of my face, his grasp firm yet careful, his hips pinning me to the mattress made my mind begin to slip into a world of pleasure, not able to focus on anything except how good it felt to not be in control.
I could feel his breathing through his nose, still kissing me and exploring my mouth. It lasted a minute, two, three. When he finally pulled away, several gossamer threads of spit still connected us, disappearing into thin air as he looked down at me, his hand carefully stroking my forehead.
"I'm going to ask one more time," he said carefully. "This is your last chance. After this I'm not checking," he stressed. His breath is hot and heavy against me, and my hips roll against his in an attempt for friction. "Are you one hundred percent positive?" He asked, his eyes wide and eager as he placed carefully kisses along my cheeks. I nod quickly, desperate for more. Mike shook his head, pulling away slightly.
"Say it," he said. "Be clear."
I blushed, suddenly feeling shy for no real reason. "I'm completely sure," I said gently. "I want this."
"This as in sex or a kid?" He asked.
"Both," I answered.
"You're completely sure? Because if you want to back out that's completely-"
"Michael, I swear to fucking God if you don't hurry up and fuck me I'm gonna get you pregnant, see how you like-"
Mike scrambled off the bed, grabbing my ankles and pulling me roughly to the edge. I let out an involuntary yelp, giggling as he spread my legs wide and high, his lips and teeth pressing against my left ankle before quickly trailing downwards, biting and sucking quickly as he moaned wantingly.
"Eager?" I asked him lightly. He shoots me a look, biting down particularly hard on a spot almost under my knee before beginning his work on the inside of my thigh. His hand trailed up and down my right thigh, grazing his nails against my skin to make me shiver while he focused his mouth on the other.
"You taste delicious," he moaned, teeth sinking into my thigh as his nails dug in harshly, raking down until his hand came near my hips before raking back up to my knee. "Whatever soap you're using, keep using it."
I blush, moaning gently. My hips rolled towards his head, making him chuckle.
"Be patient," he chided.
"I am patient," I said defensively.
"Since when?" He asked, biting down on a new spot. I moan again, squirming against him as I felt a surge of warmth shoot from my head straight to my cunt. "Anytime I so much as look at you, you beg me to fuck you."
"That's not true," I said. His hand slaps my thigh, grabbing it roughly as he bit down once more, lower.
"Made me fuck you on the table last night just because you couldn't focus on your book," he tisked. "Now you're making me fuck you because you want a baby."
"You want one too," I reminded him.
"I want anything with you," he moaned against my skin. "Especially anything that makes you mine."
My hands stretch above my head, my fingers woven together. Mike's eyes caught on something, staring at my hand as his mouth drew closer to where I wanted it.
"Your ring looks so pretty," he moaned. "Love seeing you wear it. So glad I bought it. Love seeing people notice it on you."
"Yeah?" I asked. I tried to squeeze his head with my thighs, but his hands keep me open, even spreading my legs wider after my attempt.
"Remember that kid at the bar?" He asked, chuckling. The 'kid' in question had been in college, clearly drunk as he leaned against the bar next to me while I'd waited for Mike, who'd watched the interaction curiously from the window outside, asking if it hurt when I fell from heaven. A simple flash of my ring and the response of having someone catch me before I hit the ground sent him stumbling away to disappear once more into the crowd. "Poor fucker looked so disappointed," Mike said, sucking a dark spot into my thigh, making me squirm and throw my head back in pleasure.
"You like being possessive," I teased him. His hand smacked my thigh once more.
"I'm not the one who came and shoved her tongue down my throat when the bartender got a little too flirty for her taste," he said. His eyes sparkled, fingers massaging the spot tinged red from the abrasion.
"I did not shove my tongue down your throat," I said defensively.
"You pulled my hair like I was a bitch," he laughed. His hot air blew against my clothed cunt, making me gasp from stimulation. He picked up on this, blowing cold air against me before saying "She was just trying to get tipped."
"I know," I moaned. "I'd had a couple."
Mike licked at my covered pussy, flattening his tongue wide against me as he licked a long, hot stripe from bottom to top, sucking at my clit through the wet cotton once he reached it. I moaned into the pillow beside me, muffling my cries. His hand reached up and snatched it from me, throwing it off the bed as he repeatedly licked, gaining speed as his dark eyes watched me.
"Okay, maybe we're both possessive," I conceded, bucking my hips against his face. He hummed happily, his large hands cupping my asscheeks and lifting my hips higher off the bed as he squeezed the cool flesh.
"I like it," he said. "Like that I won't even have to do anything to show you're mine now after this."
I feel my stomach flutter at his words, a blush dusting my cheeks.
"It may take a couple tries," I tell him.
"We've got all night," he said breathily.
"Until Abby calls," I reminded him. He groaned at that. "She's not gonna call, we both know that," I laughed.
"Not my problem right now," he said. His fingers hooked around the band of my underwear, pulling them away from me harshly. "You are."
"A problem?" I said in mock offense. "Well, I guess if that's what I am, I'll take my goods elsewhere." I huffed haughtily, twisting away from him and turning onto my stomach. The motion helped Mike bring my underwear to my ankles as I began to crawl away. He tugged them off fully, then grabbed my ankles once more to return me to the edge of the bed. I yelped once more, grabbing at the sheets and dragging them down with me. Mike spread me open once more and immediately shoved his tongue as deep inside of me as he could, holding my hips up and legs open as he tongue fucked me in earnest. I cried out, grinding my hips against his face. I clutched a pillow to my face, crying and even screaming into it when his lips wrapped around my clit, sucking harshly at just the right spot to make me cum with barely a warning. Mike had been pleased as punch when he figured out just the right angle the very first time. It was his favorite, throwing me into orgasm without any preparation to strike me dumb and overstimulated. There were times he'd focus on my clit for what felt like hours, tugging and licking to figure out what made me cum the fastest, the hardest, sometimes even managing to make me paint his face, and once his hair. He grinned so wide I almost thought his face would split open when he accomplished that.
He pulled away from my cunt for just a moment, his voice deep and commanding. "Let me hear you," he said. He buried himself in my cunt once more. I could feel his jaw moving, his bottom lip moving against my clit as his tongue slipped in and out, creating lewd, nasty noises that filled the air. I moaned into my pillow, hardly able to think. His hand smacked my ass hard before he pulled away once more. "Don't make me ask again, woman."
I raised my head to say something, but the words escaped me as I felt his tongue dive in once more, curling to scoop my slick into his mouth. He moaned at the taste, his hand roughly grabbing at my ass. All that spilled from my mouth were long, broken moans as I fucked his face, gutturally pleading for more. He flipped me onto my back roughly before spreading the lips of my soaked pussy apart, attaching his lips quickly and sucking at that perfect spot. I screamed, shrill and high as though I'd been stabbed while he giggled in excitement against me. The vibrations of his voice against my clit sent me higher, my head digging against the sheets as my back arched high away from the bed. My hands slapped against the bed, my legs trembling as I rode his face. Lost to the world, Mike is the only thing that grounds me, his fingers gently tracing patterns against the insides of my thighs while he watched me come undone with nothing but love and pride in his eyes.
He didn't relent, releasing my clit to lap up my glistening cum eagerly before returning to the bundle of nerves, flicking his tongue against it before sucking it once more, bringing me back to the same edge as I begged for mercy.
"Gonna scream, gonna scream, gonna-" my harsh whispers turned into a scream once more as I cum again, my hands finding his dark curls to force him to stay against me, my hips grinding harshly to fuck my clit into his mouth properly. His eyes relaxed, looking completely lovesick as I muttered rapid praises to him, tugging on his hair hard enough to make his eyes water. He moaned seemingly with no control against me, face red as he obeyed with no complaint.
"So good," I tell him. "Taking me so well. Letting me fuck your face like I own you. Fuck my face."
I felt his fingers find my entrance, slipping two inside of me with no hesitation as cum dribbled out of me. I clenched around his digits, my voice breaking as he massaged my top wall, searching inside of me to help me find a new peak. He moaned against my clit, eyes wide and begging for more as he watched me carefully. When his fingers brushed against that perfect spot, the one that makes me fall silent, he knows he's struck gold. His fingers begin slamming into my g-spot, curling and fucking me until I screamed out one more time, my body going limp as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. It's like I speak in tongues, the only language I'll probably ever be able to speak again after what he's done to me. I shake terribly as he sucks a few more smaller orgasms out of me, milking me for all I'm worth before pulling away, standing tall and chuckling as he slipped his middle and ring finger into his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue. His face and chest are covered with me, the shine of his gold ring dulled from the dried cum. He pulled his soaked shirt off of himself, flinging it into a corner before walking around to the side of the bed, gently sitting down next to my head to stroke my forehead.
"You okay?" He asked gently, smiling proudly. I moan in response.
"Need some water?" He asked, leaning closer to press a kiss to my cheek. I can smell myself on him, thick and heady. I moan again, trying to nod but unable to. "Maybe a snack?"
At that I grab at him, pulling him closer to press his lips against mine. He allowed it, humming happily against me as he gives me a gentle kiss, loving and careful as though I could break easily. I probably could.
I whined when he pulled away, but I'm instantly sated as he scooped me into his arms, pulling me against his chest to rest us properly against the headboard of our bed. He leaned over to open a drawer on his nightstand, pulling out one of the water bottles we kept in there. Carefully he moved me into a better sitting position, then opened the bottle and held it against my lips.
"Drink," he said softly. I accept it, gulping the cold liquid as my senses begin to return to me one by one. "Good girl."
Once I finished he placed it on top of the nightstand, then held me to his chest once more to lay against the bed.
"Good warm-up?" He asked me.
"Not entirely sure that didn't do the trick right there," I said. My voice is rough, threatening to break with each word. Mike laughed loudly, his chest rumbling against my ear.
"That good?" He asked, smiling widely.
"I'm ruined for anyone else," I told him. His fingers grazed my jaw, tilting my face to meet his eyes.
"Good."
His lips are gentle as they guide me back into a kiss. It's me who deepens it, grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck, silently pleading for him to continue. He takes the hint, one hand holding the back of my neck to keep my mouth close, the other trailing down my chest, fingers making quick work of the clasp on the front of my bra. He pushes the item away, cupping my right breast gently as his thumb gently strokes across my nipple, making it harden underneath his calloused touch, making me gasp.
"So sensitive," he remarked, smirking. "Could do anything to these and you'd be my willing bitch. Such a pretty girl."
I moaned eagerly into his mouth, tugging at his hair and pressing my chest against his touch. He adjusts my body, guiding me to straddle his lap properly as he guided the robe off of my shoulders, letting the material fall to my elbows. He pulled away from the kiss, admiring the hickies adorning the column of my throat.
"So pretty," he mused. His finger trailed from under my chin to the valley of my breasts, then back up again. "Do you know how pretty you are?"
"You tell me every day," I laughed softly, blushing. He hummed, his arms moving to support my upper body as he leaned me back.
"Doesn't mean you know," he said. He sucked new dark spots onto my chest, continuing his trail until it ends at the bottom of my ribcage. "Dressed so pretty for me, wearing nothing under your pretty robe. Keeping yourself easily accessible like the pretty girl you are."
It was easily his favorite nickname for me, calling me 'pretty girl' more often than my own name. Sometimes I think he only calls me by my name just to remind me he does know it, although I won't lie that I'm disappointed when he does it. The first time he called me by his favorite name was the first time we had sex. He was balls deep and panting, desperate for air as he pumped in and out of me. I think it had slipped out by mistake, based on the way his eyes widened after he said it. He was so shy in the beginning, his inexperience obvious but not damning. It was cute.
His lips trailed from the bottom of my ribcage until he found the bottom of my left breast, accenting it with little marks wherever his mouth landed.
"You want my cock?" He asked me, breath fanning over my breast. I nodded eagerly. "Use your words," he reminded me.
"Yes please," I said quietly. He laughed against my skin, nipping close to my nipple.
"Aw, she has manners," he said sweetly. I groaned, rolling my eyes. "Don't be a brat." He chided at my response. I smiled at him.
"Or what?" I asked innocently.
"Or I'll find something else to do," he said.
"Like?" I pressed.
"Like fuck myself until there's nothing left for you to take," he said smugly.
"You're no fun."
"I'm very fun, that's why you're going to behave."
"It's more fun if I don't."
At that he latches onto my hard nipple, biting and lavving his tongue over it while moaning greedily, watching me through his dark lashes as I leaned back, pressing my chest against him as much as I could, rocking my hips against his as I lost all other thought.
"There she is," he said, his voice low and gravely. "There's my girl."
He layed me down gently, spreading my legs wide open for him. He undid his jeans, taking out his cock and stroking it while he admired me from above.
"Tempted to just watch you," he said, his hand slowly trailing up and down his throbbing length. "You look so perfect, all red and dazed."
I whined, reaching for him and wrapping my own hand around his cock, stroking him at a slightly faster pace.
"There you go," he crooned. "Get it ready."
I pumped with more vigor, watching his face as I felt him twitch under my grasp. Deciding he was satisfied he gently grabbed my wrist and pinned it above my head, then guided himself to my entrance.
"How do you want me, sweet girl?" He asked softly, smiling above me.
"I don't wanna remember my own name," I said quickly. "If I can walk across this room by the end of it, you need to try again."
He raised his eyebrows, smiling down at me. "Eager?" He teased.
My response is a sudden moan, my cunt clenching around his thick cock as he sinks into me, burying himself to the hilt and making me feel as though he'll split me in two.
"You're tight," he groaned in my ear. "You want it fast?"
"Yes."
He grabbed the back of my knees, pressing them to my shoulders as he pistoned in and out of me rapidly, moaning at the feeling of my cunt swallowing him eagerly, clenching at every vein, every inch, slick and desperate for his seed.
"It'll take better like this," he moaned. His jaw is slack, panting as his balls slap against my ass, heavy and making me clench with each thrust. "Been thinking about this so long.'
I tried to respond, but all that escapes me are the tongues from earlier, moaning gibberish as all I can focus on is him fucking me into stupidity.
"You'd look so pretty with a baby on your hip. My baby," he groaned. His tip finds my g-spot, making me cry out loudly.
"Right there," I chanted quickly, eyes rolling to the back of my head.
"Yeah? That the spot?" He asked. "Can you hold this knee for me, baby?"
My body automatically obeyed, quickly holding one of my knees right against my body as he moved his hand to settle on my lower stomach, pressing down as he fucked me hard enough to make a small bulge whenever he slammed his dick fully into me.
"So cute," he praised. "Such a pretty fuckin' pussy. You know that?" I moan, my vision and thought completely fucked.
"I keep telling you to use." Thrust. "Your." Thrust. "Words." His third pointed thrust tears a scream from my throat, making him smile. "Does this sound like a suggestion? Because I promise you that it's not."
"I have a pretty pussy," I moaned without second thought. My voice is soft and frail as I chant the phrase over and over, not stopping even as he cooed sweet praises in my ear.
"Gonna look so pretty with my baby," he said. The smacking of our skin is loud, echoing through the room with each new thrust. "Maybe I'll give you another." His balls stick to my skin, tacky from my cum that drips out of me onto the newly washed sheets. "Just keep giving you my kids until I can't anymore. God, I hope this fucking takes."
I'm still chanting the phrase, stupid and willing to do anything so long as it means I will be rewarded with his cock. He smiled down at me, his eyes fluttering shut as my pussy swallows him whole again and again.
"Need you to cum baby," he said, his voice strained. "It'll take better if you do."
"I'm close, Mikey," I whined. It was a nickname I only used in times like these, too stupid to say his name properly.
His hand shifts lower on my belly, thumb snaking down to rub tight circles onto my hard, pulsing clit.
"Gonna make you mine. Gonna make you a mother." He is completely lost to the world, eyes shut in bliss as his thrusts grow deep and shallow, making me begin to grow quiet as I focus on my orgasm. "Jesus Christ, I love you."
A loud cry escapes me as my muscles contract around him one final time, hard enough I can tell it almost pushes him out of me completely. At the feeling of such a strong grasp Mike comes undone too, painting the inside of my cunt a pretty, pearlescent white as he unloads right next to my cervix, burying himself as deep as he can before resuming his pace with newfound vigor, moaning with every new thrust.
"Again," he moaned. His chest presses against mine, our bodies intertwined into such a tight mating press it's hard to tell where I end and he begins. "Wanna make sure it takes. Wanna make sure it takes."
I can't help but laugh in pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of my head as I nodded happily, taking as much as he was willing to give me.
"I'm not gonna last long," I said, the overstimulation already turning my face red as I felt the knot in my stomach begin to tighten once more.
"Good," he growled. "I'm not gonna stop until I fucking break you."
His words send me over the edge again, my voice louder this time as I begged him to break me, to fill me, to-
Much to our immediate frustration, it turns out Abby did remember to call, making Mike yell into the bed in frustration before he slipped out of me to race to the living room, making quick work of the conversation before almost slamming the phone down in excitement, rushing down the hall once more to return to the immediate task at hand.
"Where was I?" He asked me, mischief sparkling in his eyes as he quickly climbed back on top of me.
"You were telling me you want like six kids right before damning the one we're already raising," I teased, smiling.
"Well, maybe not six," he admitted. He glanced down to my aching cunt, admiring the sight of our mixed cum leaking out before sliding his dick back inside to plug the hole. "But what's one more?"
¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤
This was fucking filthy. I have no apologies. Take your problems up with God, he's the one who put me on this earth.
Taglist:
@jhutchissupercool @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support! <3
Masterlist ▪︎ Read the spinoff!
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whispering-ways · 6 months
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⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾★ falling asleep ★☾⋆⁺₊⋆
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✶ summary: you're mike's babysitter and you spend night after night taking care of abby. tonight you're exhausted and mike's the one taking care of you.
✶ pairing: mike schmidt x reader
✶ tags: no warnings, just fluff :)
✶ notes: i haven't finished the fnaf movie, but i've been a fan of the series for such a long time and i absolutely love it so far!! here's a short little fic that i've been thinking about for a couple days; i just really like the babysitter reader headcanon and had to write something with that <3
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You gaze at the clock, which read 3:26 a.m. You sighed in disappointment. Although only a few minutes had passed by, it seemed like it’d be forever till Mike came home. You’d spent all night taking care of Abby and as lovely as she was, you were exhausted.
The whole night had been spent cooking and playing and looking after her and by the time she fell asleep, you could barely stay awake yourself. You couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer. Before you knew it, you felt your eyes slowly close and you fell fast asleep on the couch. 
After some time has passed, you hear the door open, though you felt too tired to care in the moment. You are a light sleeper, but in your state, you could barely decipher Mike's softly spoken words as he came in. You sense his presence moving about the kitchen and you guessed he was just fixing himself a meal. You sink into the sofa, exhausted, lying down on the couch to catch some more sleep. What felt like a couple of moments later, you felt arms around you.
At first, you assumed it was Abby, trying to wake you up for a glass of water. However, when you sense yourself being lifted into the air, you quickly realized it had to have been Mike trying to get you off the couch. It confused you, but it was far too early in the morning for you to be able to care. You drift off once again, too fatigued to comprehend much more.
You wake up in the middle of the night to find yourself on a mattress and not the couch cushions you remember seeing. You look around, taken aback to discover Mike by your side, fast asleep and limbs splayed out. Taking in your environment, you notice a few dirty shirts, a couple of books about dreams and a Nebraska poster up above you.
You deduced that this was Mike’s room, but you had no clue what you were doing here with him, in his bed of all places. That’s when you put two and two together: Mike must’ve carried you here after seeing you asleep on the couch
You laid back on the bed and looked towards him.  You had to admit, he looked pretty cute. He looked so peaceful right now; it seemed like he didn’t have a care in the world, a stark difference from his usual furrowed brows and dark circles. And for someone who didn’t have time to go to the gym, his arms were pretty muscular. You’d always thought he was attractive, but tonight definitely painted him in a whole new light.
You didn’t know what compelled you to do it, but you scooched forward so that your head was just a few inches from his chest. Although he’d been in a small sweaty office for most of the night, he honestly smelled pretty good; he smelled like pine and rain. His presence lulled you to sleep, and you soon fell back asleep.
You felt a subtle tug across your body, and to your surprise, it was his arm embracing you, pulling you towards his chest. You couldn’t complain though; it definitely felt nice. You closed your eyes again, a soft smile stretching across your face. You didn’t know where this would go when you both woke up, but for now, you were too blissful to care.
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xcherryerim · 13 days
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A Helping Hand
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Touch starved Mike x gn!reader | wc: 2.4k
“It will take a while for the scars in my heart to heal, that’s what I believed. At some point, I am in your embrace. You touch my heart baby” — Touch by Miss A
SMUT ONE SHOT | MDNI | +18 ONLY
warning: Friends to lovers | Mike is having an existential crisis | Handjob | Oral sex (only Mike) | Facial | Shower sex | porn without (much) plot | Calling mike a “good boy” | angst
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In the warm lit bathroom, illuminated only by a single soft glow of the cheap lightbulb, Mike sat on a plastic chair, his broken leg propped up on a stack of towels. The lukewarm water cascaded over his body, mingling with the salty tears that traced down his pale cheeks.
His eyes, red-rimmed and glistening, pleaded with yours as he whispered, "Please touch me."
For the past few weeks, you'd been there for Mike whenever he needed you. He was once a self-sufficient man who refused help from others, but now that his leg was momentarily immobilized, he found himself at the mercy of those around him. His job not compensating for his leave, coupled with the overwhelming weight of daily struggles, had left him feeling trapped and helpless.
The realization that his life had spiraled out of control weighed heavily on his shoulders. It was one thing to acknowledge the despair, but quite another to confront it head-on with nothing but time on his hands. In this cramped bathroom, surrounded by tiled walls, he felt even smaller, more isolated than ever.
With tenderness and care, you stepped into the shower stall, succumbing to the task of helping Mike bathe despite the challenges posed by his injured leg. As the warm water poured down upon both of you, you began to wash his hair with the specialized shampoo and conditioner, working the suds through his locks with gentle precision.
When you moved onto his back, your fingertips brushed over his tense muscles, tracing the web of pain etched into his skin. Each stroke, each caress seemed to pull at the threads of his empty heart, finally, he couldn't contain it any longer when you stood in front of him, trying to wash his neck and chest. His fragile facade cracked as tears formed into his honey soulless eyes.
Looking at his reddened eyes and the sniffling sounds emanating from his nose, concern washed over you. "Mike, are you alright?" you inquired, worry lacing your words.
"Please touch me," he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just… touch me. Please."
Your heart ached for him, seeing him like this - broken, vulnerable, and begging for human connection. His erection strained against the fabric of his shorts, an unmistakable sign of his need for intimacy.
“I know I'm asking too much, I know I've been a burden with all the favors you've done for me these past few days, but I just—" Mike hesitated, his voice breaking as he struggled to find the right words.
His admission hung in the air between you, thick with guilt and the weight of his burgeoning dependency on your kindness.
With a deep, shuddering breath, he continued, "I just can't take this loneliness any longer."
His confession struck you like a punch to the gut, his vulnerability laying bare the emotional toll his situation had taken on him. You could see the fear lurking in his eyes, the desperate plea for understanding and support. And though a part of you yearned to provide the comfort he sought, you also knew that giving in would only complicate matters further.
Instead, you opted for a different approach, seeking to ease his pain in words rather than touch.
"Mike, I understand how hard this must be for you," you said softly. "But you're not alone, and we'll get through it together. I promise."
Your hand lingered on his shoulder, a tentative gesture of solidarity, offering the smallest measure of comfort without breaching the boundaries of your friendship.
Despite the distance you maintained, you could feel the tension in his frame, the unraveling of his composure under the strain of his emotions.
"You don't find me attractive?" he asked, his voice strained as if the very thought pained him. Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to spill over as he searched your face for answers. "I... I didn't mean to push you, I just..."
Swallowing hard, you replied softly, "It's not that, Mike. It's just... your request would change things between us. Our friendship would never be the same."
Defeat washed over his features, and he shifted his gaze downward, fixating on his length before quickly looking away in embarrassment. "I just want to feel wanted, desired, useful to someone... anything..." he whispered, the depth of his anguish echoing in every word.
"It could be just once," Mike suggested, grasping at any sliver of hope he could find. His hopeful eyes locked onto yours, their pleading depths reflecting the faint light from the bathroom fixture.
His grip on your hand tightened, a silent prayer that you'd consider his desperate proposal. The air grew heavier with his unspoken desires, the weight of his needs bearing down upon both of you in the confined space.
“Our secret.”
You stood there, torn between compassion and conviction, struggling to reconcile the gravity of the situation. It was impossible to ignore the sincerity in his gaze, the raw need for human connection that seemed to emanate from him. Yet, you couldn't shake the sense that giving in would irreparably alter the course of your relationship.
Finally, you managed to find your voice, your tone heavy with uncertainty as you answered, "Mike, I don't think it's a good idea. This isn't something we can undo or ignore later.” Uncertainty lacing your words.
But his grasp on your hand tightened, his pleading gaze never wavering. "I don't want to ignore it. I want you, I truly do. Please, just do this for me." His fingers trailed along your palm, his touch lingering on your skin as he guided it towards his trembling form. When his hand paused at his pelvis, you felt the heat radiating from him, a testament to the turmoil within.
Staring into your eyes, he implored you once more, his voice quivering with the weight of his longing. You could see the torment reflected in his pupils, the raw honesty of his need. And yet, despite the yearning, you knew that giving in would be crossing a line neither of you could return from.
Yet you found yourself drawn to the sight before you: his waterlogged body, the foggy atmosphere, and the haunting desperation in his eyes.
With a shaky breath, you gave in, nodding reluctantly in agreement with his plea. "But, this never happened," you insisted, attempting to impose some semblance of control over the situation.
Slowly, your hand descended to meet his base, the warmth of his skin contrasting with the dampness of the surroundings. Each nerve in your body screamed at you to stop, urging you to reconsider the implications of your actions. But the anguish in his eyes pulled you forward, forcing you to grapple with the reality of his suffering.
Biting your lip, you closed your eyes, swallowing hard as you began to move your hand, knowing full well that this moment would forever change the course of your lives. The steamy air seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the outcome of your decision as the two of you were in the shower, bound by a secret neither of you could escape.
Mike nodded numbly, a silent agreement between you both as he attempted to stifle the rising cries of pleasure. "Thank you," he whispered, his gratitude overshadowed by the raw emotion surging through him.
Watching your hand move delicately over him, he couldn't help but feel the intense mix of shame and ecstasy coursing through his veins.
You steeled yourself against the stirrings of guilt, focusing solely on the task at hand. The water continued to pour over you both, serving as a constant reminder of the fragility of your situation.
As Mike's breath hitched and his eyes rolled back in bliss, you found yourself lost in the dichotomy of his emotions: the gratitude, the shame, and the overwhelming need for connection.
You opened your eyes, catching sight of Mike biting down on his fist, a futile attempt to silence his cries of pleasure. A small, involuntary chuckle escaped you, the sound carrying a hint of tension.
“You can make sounds, it's okay," you reassured him, a tender smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Closing your eyes once more, you hoped that the vivid imagery of their current predicament wouldn't scar your memories.
But the sight of Mike's flushed skin, his eyes tight shut in ecstasy, and the pink length curved around your hand was enough to dispel any remaining reservations. To your surprise, your grip tightened around him, your movements becoming more assured, more passionate. The water continued to fall, oblivious to the shift in dynamics between you both.
"Fuck!" Mike groaned, gripping your wrist and urging you to increase your pace. His gratitude shone brightly in his eyes as he spoke. "Thank you."
Nodding in agreement, you positioned yourself between his legs, the steamy environment providing little privacy in this intimate encounter.
Mike's head shook slightly, his eyes cast downward in a display of vulnerability. "You don't have to do this, It's okay." His voice trembled, tinged with shyness.
A smirk played across your lips. "Be a good boy and take what I give you," you instructed playfully, wrapping your hand around him once more. Your tongue danced around his tip, drawing a startled whimper from him.
"I'll be a good boy! I'll be a good boy!" he cried out, his words punctuated by gasps of pleasure.
His moans filled the bathroom, a testament to the newfound intimacy that had consumed you.
As you continued, the boundaries between friends and lovers blurred, leaving no room for regret or hesitation. Every touch, every movement was driven by an unspoken understanding, born of necessity and longing.
This time, you engulfed him fully, relishing in the way his body shuddered under your touch. It seemed as if he teetered on the edge of release, his cries growing louder and more fervent.
His hand reached back, gently guiding your head to him, a combination of shyness and desperation etched in his expression. Over time, his grip tightened, urging you to accept more of him, hungry for the sensation.
Your heart raced, the consequences of your actions weighing heavily on your mind. But the hunger in his eyes, the pleading earnestness in his touch, made it difficult to resist.
"You take me so good..." Mike murmured, locking gazes with you as he succumbed further to his desire. His appreciation was palpable, the praise you offered striking a chord in his soul.
In response, you slowed your movements, meeting his eyes as you whispered, "And you feel so good in my mouth." The compliment sparked a blush and a small, grateful smile on his face. Praise – an elixir for his wounded heart.
The water continued to rain down on you both, rendering the bathroom a sacred chamber of vulnerable admissions and simmering passions. In this cramped space, the two of you were stripped bare, submerged in a maelstrom of shifting emotions and escalating pleasures. The boundary between friend and lover had vanished, replaced by a new territory where your instincts governed your actions.
Mike's breathing quickened, the anticipation of release building within him. And though you knew this moment was fraught with consequence, there was an undeniable pull toward the ecstasy that lay just beyond the horizon.
"Can I...?" Mike stammered, his voice trembling and hoarse. After collecting himself, he asked hesitantly, "Can I come on your face or, your body?"
"You're close?" you inquired, unable to hide the curiosity from your tone.
"Yeah, I couldn't last that long with you... you know," he admitted, flustered. Taking a deep breath, he hastily added, "Sorry, I wanted to last longer." Embarrassment colored his features, but his eyes beseeched you to understand.
Mike's apology lingered in the air, but you dismissed it with a gentle wave of your hand, recognizing the power of your connection. Despite the enormity of what was happening between you, the bond that once existed seemed to transform, adapting to the new landscape of emotions and desires.
His release drew near, every twitch and moan drawing you closer to the precipice. The water continued to pour, its relentless cadence echoing the intensity of the situation. And while the implications of your actions weighed heavily on your mind, the thrall of the present moment beckoned you, the two of you locked in an intricate dance of surrender and acceptance.
Finally, Mike released a strained cry, using the last of his strength to guide his release onto your face. It painted your skin, marking you with the evidence of his passion, only to be washed away by the endless stream of water. In that brief moment of shared ecstasy, the room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the outcome.
Then, without warning, Mike hauled you in for a kiss – a desperate, yearning embrace that had years of suppressed feelings woven into it. His lips pressed against yours, a testament to the depth of your connection. The water continued its steady descent, but you barely noticed as you were consumed by the weight of the moment.
As the echo of Mike's cry faded, you found yourselves frozen in the aftermath, clinging to each other like shipwrecked sailors finding solid ground. The reality of your actions bore down on you, a stark reminder of the journey you had just embarked upon. Yet amid the chaos, there was a strange sense of calm, the two of you buoyed by the shared experience that would forever bind you together.
Mike reached for the loofah hanging on the wall, extending it to you between gasps for air.
"You didn't do my back right," he panted, half-joking.
Rolling your eyes, you rose to your feet, a soft chuckle escaping you. "Asshole," you muttered, taking the loofah and moving behind him. As you carefully scrubbed his back, you couldn't help but study the contours, each mole a tiny piece of art etched onto his skin.
"We seriously need to find you a partner or a sneaky link," you sighed, the gravity of your recent exchange weighing heavily on your mind.
"Or maybe a friend with benefits?" Mike countered, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
You considered his suggestion briefly, a faint smile playing on your lips. "Maybe," you agreed, the idea hovering between laughter and contemplation.
The water continued to flow, washing away the remnants of your uncertainty and hesitation. The room felt charged with the knowledge of what had transpired, yet there was a strange comfort in the weight of it all. Your hands moved gently over his back, the loofah a buffer between the new reality and the old normalcy.
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my dumbass forgot the taglist bro: @freak-accident419 @joshhutchersonsgf @valreanakuroo @cassiecasluciluce @jhutchismyl0verb0y
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aeoncss · 29 days
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…some more of my personal movie!mike headcanons
authors note: thank you so much for all the love on my recent mike posts omg? yall are so sweet ):
cw: not much except for like 2 nsfw hcs (18+!)
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stiff as a ROCK when he sleeps. he always manages to fall asleep on his stomach but somehow always wakes up on his back, and if you try to wake him up with just a gentle shove or a poke — he’s dead to the world.
9/10 times you have to push him out of the bed or (politely) slap his arm / cheek to get him up.
can make some of the the best pancakes ever. learned how to make them into fun shapes for abby, like mickey mouse ears or a smiley face.
mike doesn’t really like large bodies of water, and that does include pools. if abby or his partner ask to go to a lake or to a nearby pool, he’s practically hiding underneath the shade the entire time.
butttttt will get into the water eventually. just takes a whole lotta pleading.
100% the human embodiment of hangry. feed this man or he will choke someone out.
loves, LOVES using nicknames / pet names. angel, baby, honey. got to the point where mike started using it all the time rather than every once in awhile and he will stare at his partner in shock if they ever have the audacity to call him by his first name.
“mike? mike? no baby or babe? did i do something wrong?”
mike gets super shy / embarrassed if you go down on him. not because he’s insecure, but because you’re fucking going down on him. his eyes are on you the entire time, he’s struggling to keep his hands still and constantly moves them between your head or your neck. also can’t look at you swallowing him down or he will cum immediately.
unironically loves those stupid raunchy comedy movies with way too much cussing and random acts of nudity. he doesn’t even enjoy them, he likes the fact that they’re so bad that they turn out hilarious.
^ speaking of cursing, he tries hard to not have a potty mouth inside the house. if his partner is around, he asks them to not cuss as well (or as much) because he doesn’t want abby to pick up on it.
man will probably pass away if he ever heard her cuss out randomly.
surprisingly really handy when it comes to building and repairing stuff? he learned some basics from his dad, like how to change out a tire or mess with something under the hood of his car. but, he also built abby a swing-set in their backyard with little to no instructions, and it’s still in pretty good condition. things like that come super easily to him.
mike absolutely hates celebrating his birthday. don’t remind him that he’s getting older. (but maybe do get him like a small cupcake or something. he still wants a sweet treat out of it)
he likes candy corn. i 100% stand by this.
loves positions where he’s able to press right up against his partner. missionary, doggy but with their stomach flat on the bed and his chest pressed against their back. it makes it feel much more intimate with him, and he’s able to groan right against their ear…
knows how to play the guitar. not great, knows only a few songs, and refuses to play any of them with people around. has to be by himself so he has the silence to help him concentrate.
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sleepyhutcherson · 2 months
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those eyes, that mouth
peeta bakes you cinnamon rolls but can’t fight the urge to feed you…
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pairing: peeta mellark x gn!reader
word count: 1.2k
contains: food play… not sure if it counts? established relationship, fluff, reader is feeling down at the beginning but yk nothing really mentioned, not necessarily nsfw but he feeds you and has you suck the frosting from his fingers… lol.
a/n: have this short thing i wrote whilee i struggle getting to my requests aaannd part two of know it’s for the better <33 alsoo first time writing for peeta!! i feel like this blog is mostly mike and derek but istg i have a lot of requests for more jhutch characters so i’ll be bringing in more josh futterman and billy content !!!
You weren’t feeling too well, Peeta had noticed the frown on your face the moment you woke up. He pulled you closer to him, your eyes meeting his as the early sun cleared Peeta’s usual brown eyes to a tender hazel tone. “What’s wrong, honey?” He asks, brushing a strand of your hair away from your face, stroking your cheek softly with the back of his hand.
Honestly? You weren’t sure what was wrong, you woke up with a heavy feeling in your chest, a familiar sadness weighing down on you. You nuzzle your face into the crook of Peeta’s exposed neck, you hear him giggle softly at your actions. “I don’t know,” your words are muffled against his warm, precious skin. “I just feel a little down.” You admit with a bit of shame.
Peeta continues to rub your bare back comfortingly, his chin resting above your head. “Do you want to stay in bed a little longer?” He asks, his tone soft.
You nod a little, peppering a few small kisses on his neck—your way of thanking him for understanding. He stays with you, humming some made up tune to fill the silence in your shared bedroom, rubbing your back Right as you were drifting back to sleep you felt him pull away, a small whine escaping your lips making him chuckle softly.
“Please don’t go,” you mumble, half asleep. You don’t have enough strength or energy to pull him back down so he’s up before you know it. He pulls on a pair of pyjama pants and a white t-shirt, all while staring down at the lovely sight of you trying to stay awake, your eyes half lidded. You were so adorable.
He leans down, planting a loving kiss on your forehead all while smiling. “I’ll be back,” he whispers, assuring you even if you already passed out.
You wake up hours later to a rainy scenery outside, droplets of water hitting your bedroom window threateningly. You can’t help but feel a strange comfort in the gloomy weather; oddly enough, you were feeling just a little better—well, better than you were feeling in the morning. You took notice of the extra blankets that you were tangled up in, you smiled knowing Peeta had draped them over you sometime while you were asleep.
“Feeling better?” Your head perks up at his voice, you could practically hear the smile in his words. You sit up and you’re greeted with a lovely sight: a smiley Peeta wearing a dark brown knitted jumper, a smudge of—what you assume is—flour on his forehead and a warm scent of cinnamon following him in. Your eyes follow down to a porcelain plate in his hands with a freshly made cinnamon roll, your stomach growls at the sight.
You nod. “Much better,” you reply, ogling the pastry.
“Eyes up here,” he teases, but there’s something so demanding about his tone—even if it’s lathered with his usual gentle tone—it’s difficult not to find it hot. You meet his eyes and he smiles with satisfaction, making his way towards you, sitting beside you on the bed. He sets the plate down at the night stand, his hands free to caress your face, holding you so delicately. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
He rubs your cheek with his thumb, his eyes taking the sight of you. You were so beautiful to him, so precious. You could see it in his eyes alone just how much he loved you. A shade of pink tints your cheeks feeling flustered by having Peeta’s eyes on you for this long. He was taking his time, as he always did when it came to admiring your beauty. “Those eyes…” he whispers, his eyes boring into yours, “such pretty eyes.”
You feel suddenly shy at his compliment, ducking your head slightly, trying to hide the deeper shade of pink you probably are now. He lifts your head up to look at him, his pointer under your chin as he gently forces you to meet his eyes. “Hungry?” He asks, his eyes trailing down to your lips with such hunger. You nod, too overstimulated to use your words now.
He reached for the cinnamon roll, he knew how much you loved the warm bun, especially when it was made by him. He holds it there for you, there’s no fork, he glances up at you and you see this sudden lust in his eyes…a small smirk on his lips. He sets the plate down between you two, his hands reaching down to rip a piece of the warm bread for you. It’s warm and sticky against his fingers, he brings it up to your lips, holding it just a few inches away from you. “Open,” he instructs, trying to keep a stern tone. You do as told, slightly opening your mouth, and he nearly melts at the sight. “Oh, that mouth…” he says breathlessly. He feeds you the tasty roll, watching you slowly eat it and it’s such a gorgeous sight seeing you eat.
Once you’ve swallowed the small piece he brings up the whole cinnamon roll up to you, you giggle softly. “Big bite,” he whispers with an eagerness to his tone you can’t miss. You slowly inch closer to him, looking up at him as you gradually take a bite of the cinnamon roll all while keeping your pretty eyes interlocked with his. He lets out a pathetic moan at the mere sight.
You giggle softly, chewing on the chunk you bit off. Peeta reaches up to wipe the bit of frosting off from the corner of your lips. Then an idea occurs to him.
With his pointer finger and his middle he dips the two into the middle of the cinnamon roll, the white glaze coating his long fingers. He makes sure to get enough on them—enough to keep your mouth on his fingers for long. You watch him with hunger, wanting his fingers in your mouth now so desperately.
His fingers come up to your lips, moving his digits covered in the sweet icing around your lips, swiping them slowly. Your lips are now covered and Peeta can’t help but think of how similar the white glaze looks like…
“Open, sweetheart.” He commands eagerly, so mesmerised by the sight of you. You do as told, parting your lips, giving him access to your mouth.
His fingers enter your mouth, the icing tasting so good on your tongue or maybe it was Peeta’s fingers. Your eyes are locked with his as your lips wrap around his fingers, a grin on his face. “Suck,” he says more sternly now and you obide sucking all the sweet icing from his perfectly long fingers, lewd sounds filling the room now and fuck does Peeta almost get off from the sight alone. “So good,” he moans breathlessly as you continue to work your mouth on his fingers, attempting to clean them off from the stickiness.
You pull away with a pop! sound that makes Peeta weak. He pulls you in immediately craving your lips—a taste of you. His hands are pressed up at the sides of you face, crashing his lips into yours with a force he’s never really used before but God was he so fucking hungry for you right now. He tastes the glaze on your lips, the desire and lust all over your mouth.
“Mm’you taste so good, sweetheart.”
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jealousjersey · 2 months
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°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ⊹₊.༄ pussy pleaser ⊹₊。₊°❀⋆ೃ࿔*:・
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒ 𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒ 𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ mike schmidt eats you out
a/n: IM BACKKKKK probably won’t post as much, been busy af. more of a short blurb but i promise longer fics coming soon!
mentions: afab fem pronoun reader x munch!mike. cum eating, pussy eating,
˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚⋆.ೃ࿔*:・˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚⋆.ೃ࿔*:・˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚
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mikes been obsessed with you since you started babysitting for him. something about you in being in those tight leggings drove him mad. he keeps wondering how you taste, how you look naked, and what your orgasm face looks like. the thought alone consumes him. it gets especially bad when he’s working night shifts, staring at a picture of you from your social media for hours on end, just wondering how you look from his point of view, preferably with his face between your legs.
tonight mike comes home from work to you, sitting on the couch awake. you had already put abby to sleep and you were just up fucking around, reading a book or watching a movie, whatever the case, he’s just glad your awake.
seeing you nearly burns a whole through his jeans, just by looking at your fat ass in your tight leggings he’s already soaking with precum. you consume every waking thought he has.
“hey, surprised you’re still awake” he says softly, noticing the quietness of the room.
“yeah, i tried going to sleep on your couch but i just couldn’t” you say, eyes heavy as you yawn
“do you want me to help you…get to sleep?” he asks, almost innocently. his eyes are full of concern and lust. he needs to taste you. even if it’s just once.
as he says this you have a confused look on your face. “how?” you ask innocently
“i’m gonna eat you out.” he says nervously yet firmly. he needs to do this and he won’t take no for an answer.
“if you insist” you laugh as mike leads you to his room. as soon as you sit on his bed he rips your pants off of you and pulls your panties down just enough so he can lick a thick strip down your folds. you yelp at the warmth of his tongue on you.
mikes eyes are filled with lust and desire as he stares at your cunt, soaking wet. “holy fuck” he whispers at the sight of you. it’s more than he imagined, he worships your pussy. mike can’t get enough of your taste. he pushes his tongue deep inside you as his fingers rub your clit.
mike removes his tongue from you as he suctions himself onto your clit. his fingers curl inside you as you moan softly. “oh fuck mike” you moan softly, his free hand instinctively covers your mouth, muffling you as you bite on his finger, trying your best not to be loud but god you can’t help it.
“mike im gonna cum” you whimper through his hands, still muffling you. you feel him smile as his teeth brush against your clit. he curls his fingers inside you once more, the sensation being all you needed to cum all over his face. he moans unashamed. he gets more pleasure out of this than you think. mike sits up, his face glistening with your liquids. he smiles as he wipes his face with your underwear.
this really was the best sleep aid for you. you don’t even bother to clean yourself up, knowing mike will do it. you start to fall asleep as he gets you dressed in his clothes.
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Please write a clapton davis fic i have been ACHING to find a new one🙏🙏
If You Want It That Bad, Take It
pairing: Dom Clapton Davis x Female Sub Reader
warnings: degrading, use of the pet name bunny
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"Oh, you poor thing," Clapton cooed, holding your waist tightly. Your hips stuttered against his thigh, your clit brushing against the rough fabric of his pants, and you whimpered as he grabbed at your ass. "I haven't even gotten my cock out yet and you've already gone dumb."
"Clapton," you mewled, and your hands urged forward to try to grasp at him, but the pull of his tie around your wrists behind your back kept you from doing so. He often did this, teased you relentlessly before allowing you the pleasure of finishing, and, as awful as the teasing was, the result was always so worth it. 
“Good girl,” He said, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your hip. “You’re doing so good for me, baby. You can go a little faster, if that’s what you need.” 
“I-I can’t,” you sobbed, your thighs shaking and belly quivering. You were so close to your release, but you knew that your boyfriend wouldn’t allow you to cum before he told you to. You were certain that you couldn’t move faster without cumming, but Clapton had other plans for you. 
“I bet so,” he uttered, his eyes floating down to where your body touched his. His hand lifted from your hip and repositioned to press his palm right against your leaking pussy, and his fingers threatened your weeping channel as the heel of his hand brushed cruelly against your clit. “Oh, my dumb little bunny, can’t do it yourself? Need me to help you?” 
Tears burned at your eyes at the sensation of Clapton's long fingers stroking your wet skin, and your thighs shook again as he crashed the mound of his hand against your sensitive clit. “Yes please.." you whined. “Clapton, please, baby—“ 
“Stop that pathetic whining,” he told you firmly, and you lost the words in your mouth. “Someone might hear you. You don’t want anyone finding out we're doing this do you? Maybe you would, maybe you’d like that.” 
“Fuck me,” you gasped with a dry mouth. “Clapton, fuck me, please.” 
Clapton took a deep breath and clicked his tongue against his teeth, and he gave a soft moan as his fingers slipped inside you with little resistance. “Fuck princess,” he whispered, and his fingers started to move inside you, quick and hard, not even giving you a second to adjust to the feel of him. “So fucking tight… You’re so close, aren’t you? Can you even tell me? Or can you only ask me to fuck you?” 
You nodded quickly. “M’close,” you slurred. Your head felt fuzzy, just full of Clapton, and the sound of his fingers fucking you reverberated around your empty skull. “Close, Clapton…” 
“C’mon, sweetheart,” He told you, and he leaned forward and buried his face in your neck, kissing and licking and biting at your skin. “Cum on my fingers, baby, make a big mess. Dumb little thing only knows how to make a mess, so you might as well do it.” 
“Want your cock,” you whimpered, and Clapton laughed. 
“Of course you do,” he said. “That’s all you want, greedy little slut. I’m gonna untie you, and if you can get my cock out, then you can have it. Does that sounds good to you?” 
You nodded quickly, and you waited impatiently for him to undo the tie around your wrists. He pulled his fingers from inside you, earning him a little whine, and he muttered, “Oh, hush, you act like you’re not about to get my dick.” Finally, he untied you, and your hands frantically came to his pants to free him. You could feel that he was hard, and the thought of it made your mouth water. 
You wasted no time in unzipping his pants and pulling out his hard cock, and Clapton let out a quiet little sound as your hand wrapped around his thick cock. "C'mon, baby, sit on it," he told you. "If your dumb little brain can believe it, I need you too." 
You grabbed at Clapton's shoulders as you slowly sank yourself down onto his cock. The angle pushed him deep inside you, prodding at that spongy nerve instantly, and you hung your hand as you cried at the feeling. "Oh, my sweet thing," He pouted, clasping his hand over your cheek. "No tears, sweetheart. No baby tears, you can do it." 
"Feels good," you whined, and Jay pressed a kiss to your forehead. 
"I know it does," Clapton told you. "Now, do you think you can do something as simple as fuck yourself, or do you need me to do it for you?"
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hutchersonsgurl · 2 months
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I only want you- Mike Schmidt
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paring x fem reader and Mike Schmidt
Warnings: 18+ MNDI, smut, and some angst (NOT PROOFREAD)
Summary: you and Mike have been going through a rough patch
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You and Mike have been together for just under two years. Mike has been struggling to keep a job and is obviously depressed, but he's too stubborn to admit it. Never mind talking about his feelings; it causes you to feel like you really don't know him at all, and it's hard because he hates having conversations about his feelings, and he always goes back to shutting you out.
You woke up to a slamming door. "Mike?" You said, peering out from the shared bedroom door and rubbing your eyes. Luckily, Abby didn't wake up from it, you thought to yourself.
You could hear loud banging and clattering from the kitchen. You dragged yourself to the sound mike, who was standing there in the process of making food, and you could see smashed glass on the floor.
"Mike What the fuck? How much have you had to drink?" You half-yelled at him, not being awake enough to process what was going on. "It's almost 5 in the morning, and you are going to wake Abby up, you scolded him.
"Can you just shut the fuck up and leave me alone for once? I swear all you do anymore is lecture me, and you're not my mother, so just stop," he slurred, walking towards you.
"Oh, I'm so sorry for carrying about you, Mike. I get it. You are going through shit, but you don't need to be an asshole towards me, and people loving you doesn't give you a reason to be one either," you spat at him. It was a little harsh, but you are so sick of his bullshit lately and don't know how much you can handle. You pushed past him to grab your keys off the coffee table and started to walk towards the door, but just as you were about to open the door, Mike grabbed you by your arm and pushed you against the door. The two of you look at each other for a second and then shove his lips onto yours. You state not wanting to give in, but you end up giving in. He was your everything. "I'm so sorry, baby. I know I can be an asshole, but I don't need anyone but you in Abby's and my life," he says as he pulls his face back, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip.
But before you could process what to say next, Mike started kissing your neck, and you wrapped your arms and legs around him. He started carrying you to the bedroom. "Mike Abby is going to be up soon," you said.
"Then you just need to be quiet, baby," he says as he enters the shared bedroom and lays you on the bed on your back. He then goes over to the door and locks it.
He walks over to the bed, gets on top of you, pushes a piece of your hair aside, and starts kissing your neck again. He starts pushing your shirt up and slowly kisses from your chest to your stomach while unclipping your bra and discarding it on the floor.
"Please, Mike," you moan, pulling his face toward yours. He chuckled at the thought that you were so needy; you were just pissed at him a few minutes ago.
He took off his t-shirt and pants and admired your body for a few seconds. You placed your hand on his stomach, trying to regain his attention. His hands flew at the waistband of your shorts and started pulling them off. He gently kissed your inner thighs and scared some across your pussycat, causing you to let out a soft moan from your mouth.
"Shh, be quiet, baby," he says. You pulled on his curls, making him tighten his grip on your right thigh. The vibrations of his mouth edged you closer to your orgasm.
"Mike, please, I'm so close." You plead with this. He moves his hand, pushes his two fingers into your underwear, and shoves them into your pussy, moving them faster and deeper inside of you. He keeps up this speed to hit your orgasm and cum all over his fingers, and he pulls them out and licks them off.
As soon as he finished, you could hear Abby's alarm going off. "You go clean up and get dressed, but don't bother putting underwear on because I'm not done with you yet," he says as he kisses your nose, gets up, throws his clothes back on, and goes to make breakfast for all three of you.
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part 2
NOT EDITED
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𝐌ike Schmidt 𝓍X𝓍 𝐂urvy , reader . . . ( Headcanons )
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✵ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐛𝟒 𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 . . nsfw under the cut, reader w/ fem body, no pronouns mentioned . . p in v, oral, thighjobs, boobjob, and marking mentions . . .
☀️╔⏤⏤⏤╝❀╚⏤⏤⏤╗🪐
Thx 4 reading ~ Grace ♡︎
✩ hands. always. on. he just needs to touch u. it rlly doesn’t matter what y’all r doing he just needs to touch ur beautiful body in someway. Whether it’s ur love handles, thighs, waist, rolls, ass, tits, hips . . it don’t matter, he loves em.
✩ ⇧ if u tie up Mikes hands or restrict them it’ll drive him crazy. ( and would come with a lot of whining and begging )
✩ ass & thighs guy. missionary & eating u out? Hands on ur thighs. riding him & sitting on his face? hands on ur ass.
✩ speaking of face sitting . . pls pls pls pls sit on this man’s face. he will beg. Mike adores feeling ur weight smothering him, + gets to grab ur ass and thunder thighs. ( and will leave bruises )
✩ thinks u look so pretty covered in his bruises & cum. ✩ luvvvs thigh jobs and boobjobs. just rlly loves seeing ur thighs, ass, and tits covered in his sticky cum.
✩ Mike will just all around worship ur body and every part of it. he loves ur curves ♡︎♡︎
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Michael Afton : You’re killing my tough guy personality >:(
Y/N : . . .
Y/N : Who’s the good kitty?
Michael Afton : Meeeee :3
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solarissun · 15 days
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We are never, ever getting back together (pt 2)
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afab!reader x Mike Schmidt
pt 1
WC: 3k
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lover, afab reader, angst, mentions of alcohol, mentions of intoxication, slow burn, mentions of child abuse, no use of y/n, aged up character
A/N: I want to apologize for any confusion the first chapter might have caused! This fic is a Mike Schmidt fic. It's just a slow burn/somewhat(?) of a love triangle and I thought adding Clapton would be funny. (plus I’m in love with him…) Before you read, just as a warning, this chapter gets pretty deep. 
Enjoy!
tags: @h3llo-k1tt @caminterrupted @jhutchismyl0verb0y
✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩
It's been almost a month since you and Clapton's hookup. He's been texting you nonstop. Text after text floods in, and you ignore them all. You feel bad, but you’re too embarrassed to even face him. You sigh, flipping open to Clapton’s contact to read the new heap of texts.
U good?
Miss you. Hope that ur ok.
Wanna hang?
Helloooo?
Okay. Just wanted to let you know I’m thinking of u.
You groan, slamming your phone back down on the bedside table. You enjoyed the night you two had, and it felt great at the time. But now you just feel like shit. Now all you think about is Mike, and how disgusted he was with you. While you’re thinking about Mike, you realize you haven’t seen or heard him in weeks. He’s been out of his apartment way more than usual, and you’re sure he's avoiding you. To be honest, you don’t blame him. If he pulled that on you, you’d up and leave.
You lay back down on the couch, grabbing the remote and turning on a movie, desperate to think of anything else but Mike or Clapton. Suddenly, you hear frantic knocking on your door. You reach for the remote and pause the TV. You sit silently for a minute, wondering if you were hearing things. Not only is it 8 pm on a Saturday, but you also aren’t expecting any guests. Who could possibly be knocking on your door? As you're about to un-pause the TV, more knocks echo and bounce off the walls.
You slowly get up from the couch, and wearily walk over to the door. You shift to the balls of your feet, trying to peer through the peephole. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as all you see is the top of someone's head. You slowly wrap your hand along the cold metal of the knob, slowly turning it open. Your eyes widen as you see Abby on the other side.
Her face lights up, her eyes practically glowing. She squeals, bolting over to you and wrapping her arms around your waist.  “Abby!” You scream, pulling her into you.
“I missed you so much! Mike said you moved away to your castle to be a princess!” You scoff inwardly, Mike’s lie making you despise him even more. "Where is your castle, by the way?" You glance down at her, ready to make up some insane lie. Before you get the chance, you look to your left, seeing Mike skirt around the corner, bee-lining towards you. He’s panting, his face red. “Shit- I’m... Sorry. She’s so fast.” You plaster a sickly sweet smile on your face, ensuring Abby doesn’t notice the hostility between you.
Mike takes Abby’s hands, prying her off you. “Heyy! I want to play with her! Please! Please, Mike!” She whines, giving Mike her best puppy eyes. He looks up at you, a guilty look falling over his features. He shrugs at you, waiting for your response. “Okay, come in!” You say, focusing on the little girl in front of you instead of Mike. The two of them walk into your apartment, Mike clearly not wanting her to be alone with you. You give him a dirty look and he rolls his eyes. Luckily, Abby’s too focused on your decor to notice or even care.
She runs around your apartment, oohing and ahhing at every fuzzy pillow and every cute decoration lining your shelves. She opens your bedroom door, and you think she’s about to explode. She looks back at you, her eyes wide. “You can go in.” You say, giggling as she wastes no time to roll around in all the stuffed animals you still keep on your bed. You quickly follow behind her, flinging yourself in the pile. Mike leans against the door frame, smiling as he watches you both stand up and jump up and down the bed. Abby stops, her eyes catching on something on your bedside table. She jumps down, her feet landing on the plush carpet. She grabs a heart locket off your bedside table, holding it up to the light. “Woah! This is so pretty!”
You immediately freeze, your face almost lighting on fire. You quickly grab it out of her hands, stuffing it in a drawer. “Mhm, so pretty! Why don’t we get out of the bedroom?” You steer her out of the room, sliding around Mike. You loved her with all your being, but her lack of an attention span seemed like it was out to get you.
As Abby sits down on the couch, you look over at Mike. His eyes are wide and his eyebrows are furrowed. He glances back into your room, the locket he got you for your 3rd anniversary haphazardly hanging out of the drawer. You both stare at each other for what feels like forever. 
⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎
Mike opens your front door, not even bothering to announce his arrival. He sits down next to you, a huge smile on his face. “What?” You mirror his smile, confused as to what he might be so excited about. “Okay, I know our anniversary isn't for a few days but I- I just couldn’t wait. I'm sorry it's cheap, I couldn’t afford much.” He says, awkwardly. 
He reaches into his hoodie pocket, taking out a velvet box. You look up at him sweetly, gasping as you open it. You pull out a heart-shaped locket. You feel your eyes well up as you open it, reading the words engraved inside.
“I’ll love you forever and Always, Mike.” 
You fling yourself onto him and you wrap your arms around his waist. He pulls you into him kissing you sweetly. In between kisses you mumble out, “I love you so much.” You feel so loved and so grateful that you met someone like him. You didn’t care about the money, he was worth so much more than gold or diamonds to you. 
⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎
You shake your head, pushing the memories out of your mind. Mike looks away from you, his cheeks growing rosey. You sigh loudly, sitting down next to Abby. Over the next few hours, you and Abby color what feels like a thousand different sheets of paper. 
By 11 pm, you’re both lying down on the floor, markers and papers scattered all across your living room. Mike watches from the couch, telling Abby a story as she draws him. A few times, you both glance at each other, but you both quickly turn your gaze to Abby instead. After Abby finishes her drawing, she holds it up to you and him. “It's so good!” Mike says, taking the paper out of her hand. He starts pointing out small little details Abby included, gushing over each and every one. You’re utterly entranced as you watch him. 
You miss him so much.
Your eyes widen and bite your cheek, wanting to slap yourself across the face for even thinking that. He abandoned you. That’s it. 
But.. He loved you so much. Or at least you thought so. How could he just up and leave without a word? You wanted desperately for there to be any other reason. A part of you was convinced there actually was. You bite down harder, a salty metal taste erupting across your tongue.
Whatever happened, he left. That’s it. There’s no excuse. You clench your jaw, trying to ignore the roller coaster that’s running through your mind. Maybe… Maybe for now you can forget your distaste for him. Just for a few minutes.
You smile softly as he and Abby burst out laughing. 
⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎
They leave. Too soon. As soon as the door shuts behind the both of them, the apartment is filled with deafening silence. You lay down on the hardware floor, the cold wood seeping through your shirt and biting into your back.
You never realized how much you truly missed Mike and Abby until you saw them tonight. Or… Maybe you just missed having someone to wake up to every day. Whatever it is, you shake it off and crawl onto the couch, too sad to walk a few feet to your bed. You pull a soft blanket over you, the edge of it just barely covering your feet.
You slowly drift off to sleep, dreaming of a time when you and Mike weren’t basically sending bombs to each other's front doors.
⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎
You bolt awake, sweaty and shaky. You look around, your heart beating out of your chest. You’re unsure of what woke you up, but it scared the shit out of you. Listening closer, you hear crying, no, wailing. And it’s coming from next door. You quickly bolt up, running to your door. But, you pause as soon as you reach it. You don't want to get involved with Mike and Abby's life more than you have to. Plus, it could just be one of her usual tantrums. It could even just be something as trivial as a burnt breakfast. You pivot, turning back towards the couch. As soon as you hear screaming, you tear up all of your inhibitions and run into the hall. When you reach Mike’s door, it flies open and a woman storms out, dragging an inconsolable Abby out.
The woman, who you recognize as Mike’s aunt, is gripping Abby’s arm so hard that the skin around her fingers turns white. Mike runs out of his apartment pleading with her, “You can see she doesn’t want to go! Please, just-” Abby digs her heels into the ground grabbing Mike's shirt with her free hand. Jane yanks Abby to her side, pulling her away from her brother. “I guess I’ll have to go to the police and tell them you kidnapped my niece! I have sole custody, not you, Michael!” Mike’s eyes go wide, the color draining from his face. He takes a step back, putting as much distance between him and Jane as possible.
You watch in shock, beyond confused about what had gone down during the two years you were broken up. “You truly are a despicable woman.” He says, disgust dripping from his voice. Mike crouches down, getting eye level with Abby. “Abby, I’ll see you soon. I promise, okay?.” His voice cracks as he reaches out, wiping her tears with his thumb. Abby wiggles out of her Aunt’s grip, running forward to wrap her arms around him. He pulls her closer as she sobs into his sweater. Aunt Jane rolls her eyes and then rips Abby away with absolutely no remorse. She drags her down the hall, turning the corner, and disappearing completely.
He sits down, pressing his back against the wall. He exhales, tilting his head back and staring into the fluorescent lights. You cautiously take a step towards him, “Mike…?” He looks over at you, his jaw clenching as he sees you. “Still can’t seem to mind your own business, huh?” He scoffs, his eyes turning away from you. You pause, crouching next to him. You desperately want to comfort him, but you just don't know how. “Can.. Can I do anything?” He looks over at you, his face twisting into a death stare. “For starters, you can leave me alone.” You flinch, feeling a wave of sadness rush over you. You can’t even imagine how he feels. “Mike, please..” You reach out, your hand brushing his.
He slaps your hand away, and screams, “I said leave me the fuck alone!” You stand up, taking a step backward. “I’m sorry for having a fucking heart, Mike!” He laughs, standing up. “Oh, you have a heart? Did you ever tell Clapton why you called him at 2 in the fucking morning?” You look away from him, swallowing. “That's what I thought. Leave me the fuck alone, and stay out of my life!” You feel tears burning your eyes, threatening to spill over. Your lip quivers as you speak, “All... All I wanted to do was help.”
“This is exactly why I left you.” He turns away, storming into his apartment. As soon as the door hits the frame you break down, falling to your knees in the middle of the hall.
⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎
You’ve been crying for hours straight, the tears seemingly having no end. Your pillow is drenched and tissues are splayed out all over your comforter. As you wallow in despair, the sun slowly sinks further across the sky, the only light illuminating your room being the white glow of the moon.  It’s crazy to you how two entire years after your separation, Mike is still making you feel so extremely worthless. You could never be enough for him, no matter how hard you tried. What you hated most though, is that he had a point. You used Clapton. For your own sick and twisted reasons, you used him. And you hated yourself for it. 
Just as you begin to sob harder, you hear a thud against the wall, coming from the hallway. The sound echoes through the walls again, and it sounds almost like someone ran into it. You hear someone grunt and struggle, cursing. You recognize the voice and you groan, taking everything in you not to get up and check on him.
Suddenly, it feels like someone takes control of your body as you walk to your door, stepping into the hallway. You see Mike fumbling with his keys, missing the keyhole every time. He’s clearly very intoxicated. It’s surreal seeing him in such a way. He never drank when you were with him, he always told you he had to make sure Abby was always looked after and always had someone to turn to. Now that she’s not here, you guess he decided nothing is stopping him from getting shitfaced.
You walk over to him, grabbing the keys out of his hands, and unlocking the door yourself. He looks over at you, and any ounce of disdain he held for you from earlier disappeared. “Thanks..” He says quietly. You invite yourself in, making sure he gets to the couch without hurting himself. You avoid eye contact the whole time, knowing if you glance at him for even a second you’d burst out into tears.
Once he’s settled, you turn to walk away, but you feel his hand grasp your wrist, stopping you. “Please... Please stay.” He pleads. You sigh, removing his hand from you. “I can’t keep doing this Mike…” You say, finally turning towards him. He has a guilty look on his face, and he suddenly can’t seem to look at you. “I... I didn’t mean it..” He slurs, his face tipped towards the ground. 
You sit down next to him, your eyebrows raised. “You didn’t mean what..?” You question. “You know. What I said earlier. I do want you in my life…” He says, his eyes tracing the floorboards. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Mike, you’re drunk.” He shakes his head, finally making eye contact. “I swear. I do. I mean.. just look at you. I treated you like dirt and you’re still helping me? You’re just.. so.. so nice.” You frown, wishing so badly he was sober. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” He reaches out, his warm hand cupping your face. His eyes bore into yours as he speaks. “I’m not ever going to lie to you again. I promise.” You’re not sure exactly what he means by “again” but you brush it off, chalking it up to more alcohol-induced rambles. 
You stand up, Mike’s hand leaving your face and falling back to his lap. “I’m going to get you a glass of water, okay?” He nods, following your every move and watching you as you walk around his kitchen. 
Your eyes begin dancing around every framed picture he has and every drawing Abby made he has clipped to the fridge. Your eyes settle on a picture of you, him, and Abby at an amusement park, almost exactly a month before he left you. You pick it up, your thumb rubbing over the scratches in the frame. That trip was unforgettable. That was the day you knew he’d be the one you’d spend the rest of your life with. You couldn’t imagine a world without him or Abby. You put it back, wondering why he still has it. 
You fill up a glass, taking it back over to him. He drinks it in one gulp and he hiccups once it’s all gone. You place your hand on his chest, slowly pushing him back to get him to lie down. He takes the hint, lying back down on the couch. Your hand lingers there for a moment too long, but you quickly tear it away when he smiles up at you. The smile is still plastered on his face as he watches you drape a blanket over him. His eyes slip shut as he turns on his side, pulling the blanket to his chin.
You look down at him for a few moments. You just don’t understand how one moment you could hate him more than anything, and the next wish everything could go back to the way it used to be. You were half of yourself without him, and just as you started to feel complete he just had to infiltrate his way back into your life. As you watch his chest rise and fall, you just can’t help but still love him. Sadly, nothing was ever going to change that. 
You slowly creep towards the door, the floorboards creaking under you. He speaks so quietly you almost don’t hear him, “There was never another girl..” You freeze and turn back to look at him. “What?” Is all you can say. He doesn’t give you any explanation for what he just grumbled. You convince yourself you’re crazy and you’re just hearing things.
That night, you don’t sleep at all. You keep replaying that moment in your head, over and over. 
“There was never another girl.”
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sameschmidtdiffname · 22 days
Text
Wool Over My Eyes
Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader
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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▪︎•
302 notes · View notes
whispering-ways · 6 months
Note
Hear me out. Softdom!Mike (fnaf) takes you to work with him and wants you to cockwarm him while he looks over the cams
˖⁺‧₊˚♡ checking the cameras ♡ ˚₊‧⁺
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◉ summary: mike takes you to work, but you become incredibly bored incredibly quick. luckily, Mike has a solution for that.
◉ pairings: mike schmidt x reader
◉ tags: cockwarming, nicknames like love and baby
◉ notes: anon I literally adore you for this, i know in my bone marrow that Mike is a soft Dom!!! hope you like this short fic!
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You were always a fan of true crime since you were little. So when your boyfriend, Mike, offered for you to come with him during a shift, you jumped at the opportunity. I mean the place was just riddled with mystery; I mean missing children at an entertainment place? You knew there had to be some sort of clue to what had happened so many years ago and you were going to get to the bottom of it.
You were expecting a fun night of snooping around, but Mike had said that was absolutely not allowed. It was understandable; he was working hard at this gig and he couldn't have anything fuck it up for him. 
Nevertheless, it actively killed any excitement the pizzeria once had. It didn't take long for you to become absolutely mind-numbing bored. You'd practically done everything you could in Mike's office. Flip through manuals, make paper swans out of old napkins, watch the training VHS tapes, there was nothing more you could do within that office.
"Well, almost nothing," you thought, looking over to Mike. You had to admit, he looked pretty good in a uniform and it's not like you had anything better to do. You walked over to his chair and climbed in his lap, thighs trapping him down to his seat. 
His focus shifted from the cameras to you, moving his hands to hold you up from the small of your back. "What's up love?" he asks with a soft but tired smile.
"Babe~!" you said dragging out each syllable. "I'm so bored...can I please just ride you?" you whine.
Mike's face flushes red, but it slowly leaves as he lets out a tired sigh. "As much as I'd love that, and truly I would, I'm too fucking tired for that and plus I've gotta watch these cameras baby."
You didn't want to push him, so you nod your head, dissapointment written all over your face. You lay your head in the crook of his neck; if you couldn't have his dick inside you, you were at least gonna cuddle him. 
Mike hated to see you upset like this. How could he concentrate on work when his love was in his arms feeling so sad? He patted your back, making you sit back up. "Why don't you just cockwarm me for a bit love? Itd be nice to have you around me while I look at the cameras."
You nodded enthusiastically, happy at the compromise. You quickly reached to pull your shorts off, leaving you in your panties as you ground down on his crotch. Mike put his hands on your hips, pulling you up just enough for him to unzip and push his pants down just enough for you to have access to him. He placed you back in his lap gently and you conrinued to grind down on him, feeling his erection poke through his boxers.
It didn't take long for you to pull down your panties and line yourself up with Mike, impatient to have him inside you. You slowly slipped the tip in, hissing at the stretch. 
"Fuck baby, you're so tight~" Mike groaned out. You loved how raspy his voice would get every time you both messed around. You slipped all of him inside you, finally bringing your hips down to his. His dick filled you up in all the right places; although it was average in size, it made up in length with thickness. 
Instinctively, you started to raise your hips to ride him, before feeling Mike's hands on your side again, pulling you back down roughly. "Remember you're just cockwarming. Don't disobey okay? If you're good for me, maybe we can mess around later after my shift."
"Ugh~ fine," you say reluctantly, sinking back into his  chest.
He chuckles at how much you wanted him. "Good girl," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 
Something about being so close to Mike managed to make you sleepy and although you did your best to prevent it, you felt your eyes close.
You woke up to Mike tapping your back again to let you know it was time to go back home. You look up at him groggily before noticing you'd been cockwarming him all shift. Mike wordlessly helped put your clothes back on and led you back to his car, letting you sleep in the back seat as he drove him.
After checking in on Abby and sending the babysitter away, he brought you to his bedroom, gently laying you down on his bed. You instinctively pull the blanket around you, only to have it ripped away a few seconds later, the cold air now jolting you awake. 
You look up to see Mike above you, blanket in hand and a smile stretched across his face. "Baby you can't go to sleep just yet. I have to reward you for being so good don't I?" he said in a low voice.
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477 notes · View notes
xcherryerim · 1 month
Text
Double The Fall, Triple The Pleasure
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- Billy x Gn!reader x Derek -
“Merrier the more, triple fun that way. Twister on the floor, what do you say?” — 3 by Britney Spears
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word count: 3.6k
SMUT ONE SHOT | MDNI | +18 ONLY
Warning: Threesome (this is a love corner with the reader, not a love triangle. I AM NOT shipping Josh characters together) | sexual tension | Penetration | Giving and receiving oral sex (no genitals specified for the reader) | Choking kink | Masturbation | Handjobs | Praise and degradation | Porn with plot | light mentions of vaping, alcohol and gambling addiction. | Reader is submissive btw | Derek is a possessive jealous fuck (but also a needy loser)
Summary: As you work your shift as a casino host Derek Danforth, the son of the co-owner, decides to begin a round of baccarat with a stranger named Billy. Somehow you end up participating in the game and emerge victorious, causing the two players to owe you financial compensation but, they end up repaying you in another way.
(if you want to go directly to the smut section look for the “✦ “ symbol.)
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There are two distinct types of gamblers. The rich make hasty decisions with their money, while the desperate lot implore and pray to the machines and chips, hoping for a miraculous windfall of riches. 
As a casino host, your responsibility is to ensure that the patrons become loyal to the establishment; however, as a bystander, when a person who isn’t a part of the one percent plays, it’s impossible to hold back the feeling of regret. While you acknowledge you are fulfilling your obligation, you know it is easy to become engulfed by obsessing gambling, and you don’t wish that on anyone. 
However, you do not care if the rich pour their monetary possessions into the abyss, and you maintained that sentiment toward Derek Danforth, the son of one of the casino’s co-owners.
He wasn’t a regular at the establishment and gambled a little, but occasionally brought his friends to indulge in excessive drinking, and smoking while toying with machines. However, now he was by himself, which was unusual. 
“Mr. Danforth, it is a pleasure to have you back. Would you like your usual?” you inquired. “Huh?” A confused response erupted from his lips, his body lurching forward with a wobbly movement. The apparent intoxication exhibited by him appeared on the edge of his consciousness as he scanned the area once more.
“Yeah, and I want a table,” he uttered the request, with minimal confusion.
“Certainly. Would the others in your group be joining us this time?”
Derek shook his head, his body appearing unsteady as he did so. “No, just me.” 
“Oh, how so?” you questioned, your tone of voice maintaining professionalism as it did during work.
“Just bored,” he responded with a shrug, unbothered by the circumstances, even as you detected a hint of inebriation.
“Oh, indeed, a casino is the ideal way to take away boredom,” you remarked with a feigned professional tone, although the sarcasm in your words was all too obvious.
“Why don’t you join me for a round?” he inquired as he seated himself at the velvety green table, awaiting your response.
“I’m here to ensure everyone’s enjoyment and prevent any illegal behavior,” you replied, concealing your hostility and disdain for a facade of civility.
“I am not a participant, but a spectator, Mr. Danforth,” you concluded, using a firm tone with a mild undertone of mockery.
“You don’t seem to have much enjoyment yourself,” Derek said as he inhaled from the vape he held, the vapor surrounding you before dissipating into the atmosphere.
“I’ve said it once, and I’ll repeat it. Drop that professional speech style. We’re around the same age, so why do you still feel the need to communicate with me like this?” he stated, sounding frustrated with continuing your formal conduct.
“If I speak like I do, I will get fired for unprofessionalism.” You retorted as you prepared the negroni and handed it over to him.
“I won’t allow that to happen,” he replied, taking in a generous sip from the glass before continuing his words. “You’re too hot to lose.”
You felt uncertain about whether to offer a genuine response to his flirtation or simply scoff at it, and you began to silently pray that he would not launch into another lecture about cryptocurrency, which had become an irksome topic of conversation during your prior interactions. 
“Thank you, Mr. Danforth. It means a lot.” You spoke, avoiding direct visual contact to avoid any implications or insinuations. While you acknowledge that he is a physically attractive man, the irritation he can induce within you is bigger than your attraction for him, or at least that is what you try to tell yourself.
“I’m assuming a solo round?” You mentioned shifting the subject. 
“Not quite...” he replied, his gaze examining the environment until he managed to pinpoint the individual of interest, a man around his same height, adorned with dark-toned hair and a jean jacket, giving an out-of-place demeanor compared to the ambiance of this prestigious gambling establishment, thus providing a vulnerable and susceptible target.
Derek walked with confidence as he had already won the game. “Hello, I’m Derek, Derek Danforth,” he proclaimed, displaying his self-assured attitude and firm grip as he shook hands with the stranger, showcasing his superiority complex.
“Billy, and yeah, I will join you.” The individual stated this with assertiveness, grasping tightly onto his gold necklace, an item he viewed as his lucky charm.
In your inner thoughts, you were fervently hoping that the gentleman with the cowboy-esque appearance would end up victorious and leave the premises swiftly and promptly. You were aware that the significant bets Derek had made in the past were so large that they could obliterate the finances of a person with the speed of light. 
“Billy would join me for a game,” Derek proclaimed as he settled into his designated seat.
“Billy, we’re delighted to have you here with us,” you uttered, the corners of your mouth rising into a pitiful smile, yet the individual seemed to have construed your gesture as a sign of flirtatious intent as he provided a subtle wink in response.
A palpable aura of awkwardness permeated the atmosphere between you and Derek, his displeasure at the sight of another man attempting to flirt with you becoming evident despite every attempt to mask his emotions on the matter. Regardless of the discomfort of the situation, it was undeniable that you experienced a certain degree of gratification and joy as you had the attention of both men.
“So, shall we begin?” you spoke, skillfully shuffling the deck with precision, as well as showcasing a few unique tricks you had acquired throughout your time spent working at the casino. You felt their eyes taking in every choreographed performance, their minds filled with various ideas and fantasies of what else someone with such masterful hands might also possess the aptitude for.
 As the game began, your eyes were filled with anxiousness as you carefully followed the steps and maneuvers that had taken place in the game of Baccarat. The interior sound of your mind urges Billy to take all the appropriate actions to win, but unfortunately, he falls short in his efforts.
Derek chuckled in mockery. “Maybe next round you can win.” 
Billy groaned in annoyance at Derek’s comment, his attention quickly turning towards you. “Why don’t you play with us?” Billy asked.
“I don’t,” you started to say, but Derek interrupted your response by uttering, “Do as I say and play.” 
The harsh look delivered by the wealthy individual in question prompted a sense of apprehension and caution within you, but you were compelled to oblige the order. 
Despite never playing, you were sure that you had a chance of winning, as you had taken the time to observe numerous matches, making you able to identify and comprehend the various mistakes and errors that tended to occur, as well as what appeared to be successful. However, the extreme bets that Derek was making and Billy’s persistent attempts to one-up them caused you a moderate degree of concern, but you tried to maintain a state of composure. 
When the game came to a close, seeing both men so sure of your failure just for you to end up winning at the end was ecstatic. Now you understand why people loved gambling in the first place. Your smirk quickly fades as you let go of the cards as if holding them down would make you more intoxicated with the high these activities had to offer. 
Derek grunted, a sound oozing with a subtle tinge of frustration as he pulled out his lousy Gucci wallet. “Is cash fine or a check?” He asked slightly annoyed. Billy, on the other hand, looked at the table, his eyes darting back and forward.
“I don’t; I don’t have that type of money.” He stuttered as he looked at you. 
“Mmh,” You leaned closer. “Maybe you could pay in another way.” You teased playfully, indicating your intent to pursue a physical means of compensation. 
 “And suddenly I have no money either. How sad.” Derek said, hiding his wallet, hoping to provide you with a similar recompense as the one you sought from Billy. 
“The expression goes: save a horse, ride a cowboy, not: save a Ferrari, ride a rich man.” You chuckled in response. 
“But wouldn’t both be great to ride?” Derek replied, his expression exuding self-assurance as he took a swig from his beverage.
You quickly looked at Billy, who didn’t seem to mind the offer. You,  on the other hand, were skeptical, but how many people win a game and have the opportunity to be fucked by two attractive guys?
“Alright!” you exhale, a hint of satisfaction coloring your voice as you reach into your pocket and retrieve the keys entrusted to you by the establishment. With a decisive click, you lock the door to the cleaning supply room behind you, effectively sealing off the space from prying eyes. 
When you turned in their direction, you felt their hands roaming against your body. Their fingers traveled the contours of your figure, triggering sensations that surged down the length of your spine, evoking chills and shivers. Billy pulls your head, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue dancing with yours in a sensual duet. His hands slide beneath your shirt, exploring the warmth of your bare skin, while Derek’s lips trail down your neck, nibbling as he leaves a trail of goosebumps in their wake. 
Derek’s hands work swiftly to unfasten the buttons of your uniform, revealing more of your body with every movement. He does this with a sense of urgency as if he cannot get enough of touching you. The sound of fabric rustling fills the air, accompanied by soft moans escaping your lips as their touches become more intimate and bold. 
With Billy’s assistance, you manage to wriggle out of your dress pants, your legs quivering with anticipation as they continue to explore every inch of your exposed skin. Derek moves lower, his lips brushing against your belly button before trailing further south, stopping briefly at the waistband of your underwear. He looks up at you, seeking permission with his eyes alone. You nod, unable to resist the intense desire that is building within you. 
With renewed determination, Derek hooks his thumbs under the elastic band and slides them downward. His eyes widen in surprise at what he sees—you’re dripping and ready for him. Without waiting for confirmation, he leans forward, planting a series of open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs. Then, his tongue starts to trace slow circles around your sensitive flesh. His actions send waves of euphoria coursing through your body, making you squirm in delight. 
While Derek worships your body, making sure to not leave any part of you without licks and sucks, Billy takes matters into his own hands quite literally. He expertly undoes his belt, wrapping it around your neck and tightening it just enough to heighten your senses without cutting off your airway entirely, adding an edge of danger to this already erotic encounter.
Billy then proceeds to remove his red boxers, revealing his rigid erection pulsating with need. It jumps slightly at the sudden exposure, eager to be touched. He grasps your hand and places it around his twitching cock, guiding your movements as he leans in for a brief, passionate kiss.
“Get your money’s worth,” he whispers against your lips, his smirk widening as he watches you. 
With urgency, you begin to tease the head of Billy’s cock with your thumb, tracing its ridges and veins as if mapping out every inch. Your other hand teases Billy’s shaft rhythmically, setting a pace that pleases both of you. The room fills with the sounds of your whimpers and his groans, a testament to the intense fulfillment coursing through your bodies.
At the same time, Derek’s hunger grows as he feasts on the throbbing between your legs, his skilled tongue and lips working together to bring you to the brink of ecstasy. His light whimpers echo throughout the small space, punctuating the air with his insatiable craving.
“You’d better be quiet if you don’t want to get caught,” Derek warns, concerned about someone hearing their explicit activities. With a swift motion, he yanks the belt tied around your neck, causing you to cry out in surprise and pain. 
Your breath catches in your throat as the sudden pressure cuts off your oxygen flow. When he releases the hold, you gasp heavily.
“You liked that, huh?” he asks with a sinister smirk, reading your flushed cheeks and labored breathing. 
“Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to.” His words carry an underlying threat as if claiming ownership over you. Without waiting for a verbal response, he stands up, towering over you menacingly.
Derek reaches out, grabbing your chin forcefully, tilting your head back so your eyes meet his. “Because you fucking belong to me, remember that.” 
Despite the fear and uncertainty swirling within you, there’s also a strange thrill running through you at his possessiveness, causing you to let out a whine. 
Your weak sound made Derek smirk in amusement. His teeth were barely visible. Then, he resumes to his past attitude. 
“I’m tired of you bitching and moaning.” Derek said, “Get on your knees.” His command is firm, leaving no room for negotiation. You obey without question, kneeling before him and Billy. Their cocks are mere inches from your face, and the lines between reality and fantasy blur even further.
Their presence looms large over you; their virility and masculinity are intoxicating in this dimly lit room. Your mouth waters at the sight of their hardened members, yearning to taste them and to please them in any way possible. 
Both men watch you intently, their eyes filled with expectation and fascination. You can practically see the thought process playing out in their minds: who will you serve first? Who will you satisfy last? 
With a deep, shaky inhale, you lean forward, your lips brushing softly against the tip of Billy’s erect member. Your tongue darts out to taste the salty droplets of pre-cum glistening on its surface, savoring the flavor while your hand wraps firmly around Derek’s shaft, moving up and down with increasing speed, this motion is both a show of submission and a subtle act of rebellion, aiming to push him closer to the edge. 
Derek’s moans increase in volume, his hips bucking involuntarily in response to your aggressive stroke as his eyes roll back. The pain of overstimulation mingles with satisfaction, creating a complex mix of emotions that only adds to the overall experience.
Meanwhile, Billy’s gaze is a mix of awe and hunger, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. The contrast between your two lovers couldn’t be more apparent—one nearing orgasm, the other waiting with bated panting for his chance. But Billy isn’t content with waiting; he wants to join in the action too.
Suddenly, he grabs the collar around your neck, tugging it firmly and forcing your mouth wide open to accept his entire length. You struggle to accommodate Billy’s girth, your throat adjusting to the invasion as best it can. Saliva drips from your chin, coating your neck and body as you fight to keep up with his demands.
“You know, for such a professional-looking host, you’re taking it like a fucking slut.” 
You want to answer back at Billy’s words but, the sensation of being mouthful by his engorged member is overwhelming, but you refuse to give up. Determined to please both men, you focus on taking him deeper, and your efforts are rewarded by his low growls of approval. Meanwhile, Derek watches with a mix of jealousy and admiration, pulsating in anticipation as your strokes become sloppier on him. 
“Touch yourself,” Billy commands. Without hesitation, you use your free left hand to explore your own body, mirroring the sensations he experiences.
Your eyes lock with his, reflecting your admiration for this astounding man standing before you, dominating and directing your every move.
Your fingers caress your sensitive skin, discovering the wetness left by Derek’s earlier attentions. You moan around Billy’s shaft, the sensation intensifying as you stroke yourself in sync with your mouth’s movements. 
Billy’s eyes darken with desire, his grip on your ‘collar’ tightening slightly. “That’s it,” he encourages, spurring you on.
“Swallow every fucking drop,” he orders, his words sending a shiver down your spine. Sweat glistens on your brow, and your gasps come in ragged as you redouble your efforts, eager to satisfy him and prove your loyalty while you pleasure yourself and bob your head on Billy’s dick.
Derek watches hungrily, his length pulsating in your hand, as he impatiently awaits his turn. His grip on your hair tightens, demanding your attention. “Please!” he begs, his voice tinted with desperation. “Give it to me!”
Your eyes lock with Derek’s, and with a nod, you move towards him, ready to grant his wish. He quickly guides your mouth towards his member, and you eagerly obey, wrapping your lips around his dick, feeling him twitch in excitement at the first touch of your warm, wet mouth. His scent fills your nostrils, mingling with the musk of sex and sweat, creating an intoxicating blend.
 “Fuck, you’re better than I imagined.” Derek cries out.
Billy watches the exchange as he searches for a condom among the scattered clothing on the floor. Once it’s located, he rolls it onto his shaft, preparing himself for what’s to come. 
Moving behind you, he gently fingers your entrance, seeking silent consent. You pause momentarily, breaking contact with Derek’s length long enough to respond to Billy with a yes. As soon as your sentence ends, Derek responds by thrusting harder, face-fucking you relentlessly. 
Your eyes water and tears stream down your face as his pace increases. In the meantime, Billy positions himself at your entrance. With a single confident thrust, he enters you, filling you up. 
As he begins to thrust in and out of you, matching Derek’s pulls on your head, you lose track of time and space. All that exists is the combined sensation of two cocks inside you, stretching and filling you. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, grunts, and moans drowning the room, creating a primal symphony of desire and satisfaction. 
Your hands grasp Derek’s thighs, your nails digging into them as your body aches. Sweat trickles down your forehead, staining your face, and you don’t care. Nothing matters but the sense of belonging to these two men. 
Derek hisses at the sudden attack from your nails before he speaks. “I know I’m big, but you can take more than that,” Derek growls, forcing more of him into your mouth, attacking your throat mercilessly, while Billy picks up the pace, pounding into you faster and harder. 
His thrusts became more erratic, his hips slamming against your ass with reckless abandon. You cry out, your voice hoarse from the constant stimulation, feeling your body tense up, preparing for your orgasm.
Just as you think you can’t handle it anymore, Billy pulls out suddenly, leaving you panting and empty. Before you can recover, he spits on your entrance, lubricating it again. Then, with one swift motion, he re-enters you, filling you up once more. His size stretches you wider than ever, causing you to scream in both agony and gratification. 
“I love the sounds you make when I'm destroying you," Billy mumbles as he slaps your ass a few times before he speaks again. “So much better than the last person I was with.” 
Derek, sensing your imminent climax, speeds up his pace even more. His thrusts become faster and harder, hitting your uvula. His movements are deliberate, designed to send you spiraling over the edge. Billy, aware of the approaching orgasm, matches Derek’s intensity. Together, they push you to your limits, each thrust bringing you closer to the peak.
The combination of their movements is too much to bear. Your body convulses, shaking uncontrollably as you near the edge. You cry out incoherently, your voice a mix of pleas and curses. Finally, it happens. A wave of pure bliss washes over you, starting from your core and radiating outward. Your muscles clenched around Billy’s cock, which came undone, Derek following right after as you swallowed him entirely. 
For a moment, all three of you remain frozen in time, basking in the afterglow of your shared orgasm. Sweat covers your body, mixing with the evidence of your passions and dedication.
Then, Derek proceeds to pick you up, ensuring you’re okay and still able to walk, as Billy quickly goes to dress up again. 
“Wanna do aftercare?” Derek asks. This is different; this isn’t the usual Derek you’re accustomed to, but there’s something special about him at this moment.
“I’d love to,” you reply, unable to resist his newfound vulnerability. For a brief moment, you both stare at Billy, unsure whether to include the stranger in this intimate moment. But he speaks up, breaking the silence.
“I’m fine; I need to go anyway.” And with that, Billy abandons the room, leaving the two of you alone together.
Now it’s just the two of you, stripped bare emotionally and physically. You look at each other, unsure of how to proceed. Should you clean up? Talk about what happened. Or simply cuddle and rest in each other’s arms? 
“That was weird,” Derek says, slightly confused by Billy’s sudden departure but dismissing it. He’s glad that the two of you are alone now. 
“Get dressed up. We’ll go back to my place, and...” As Derek reaches for his pants, they feel unusually light. You exchange a confused glance, picking up your clothes and finding them similarly lacking.
Realization dawns on you both—your wallets are gone. It seems Billy took advantage of the situation to steal from you when you guys thought he was looking for a condom earlier on. You share a look of disbelief. 
“Fucking Billy,” you mutter.
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Hope you guys liked it, it’s my first time writing this sort of thing but I wanted to write something special for having 100+ followers 🫶🏻 Thank you so much for reading my stuff! (If you only want to see my smut writing consider following my side blog @xxxcherryerim where I reblog my work!)
tags: @freak-accident419 (hand in marriage, NOW /j) @joshhutchersonsgf @joshfutturman @jhutchismyl0verb0y @lile6969 @savvyotakuqueen
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aeoncss · 1 month
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…some of my personal movie!mike schmidt hcs <3
disclaimer: you dont have to agree, just don’t be an ass. thanks!
tw: parent/sibling death, mentions of insecurity, nightmares, trauma flashbacks, some nsfw (18+!), could be ooc?? idk?? don’t quote me on it
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he’s a soft snorer. like the faintest sound comes through at night, and it’s usually when he’s laying on his back. when he’s sick, however, he snores so loud that abby has definitely thrown something at him to be quiet.
used to smoke cigarettes quite heavily. started in high school, then it turned into muscle memory that escalated into a harsh nicotine addiction. the second abby complained about the smell, mike stopped cold turkey, and hasn’t picked up a pack since.
does, occasionally, smoke weed though. usually in his car or in his garage late at night. spends extra time cleaning around and getting the smell out, including doing an extra load of laundry so his clothes don’t reek. it helps him sleep, although doesn’t do much for the nightmares.
mike has one of those huge CD books shoved underneath his passenger seat (it won’t fit in the glove box). it’s filled with many broken disks that are heavily scratched from use, and a lot of them belonged to his father.
he’s so bad at folding. so bad. he either hangs it up super sloppily or straight up just throws his clothes into his closet.
he prefers dogs over cats — although he takes the time to feed one of the neighborhood stray cats that abby has named ‘mr. whiskers’ because that’s gonna become his pet goddamn it
listens to a lot of korn, foo fighters, deftones, and the offspring. mike kinda refuses to play that kind of music in the car with abby around, so he might have grown to subconsciously love spice girls and a*teens as well…
grows insecure when he finds himself in a relationship, feeling like he equally can’t be enough or that he’s doing too much. mike has such a fear of pushing away good things from him, so it takes a lot of reassurance for him to finally understand that he isn’t doing anything wrong.
falls asleep during horror and romance movies. physically just can’t do it.
he can’t ever listen to the romantics ever again. if he hears even a snippet of ‘talking in your sleep’, his body straight up shuts down and mike goes into automatic panic mode.
service switch — really, he just wants to please his partner in any way. he doesn’t have a preference for anything sexually related, but he definitely gets a kick out of how good he can make his lover feel. he might have studied one too many playboys.
he doesn’t really realize how much he craves affection until after he gets into a relationship. whenever his partner leaves for the night, he feels like a piece of him is somehow lost, and he nonstop thinks about how nice it was to just be in their arms — even if it was just for a short moment.
besides the reoccurring nightmare of garrett, mike developed a new one after the events at the pizzeria. he can’t save abby in time, the sound of spring locks echoing deep inside his brain that he wakes up so physically ill. he has to go check in on her to get himself to calm down.
has a few really shitty stick n’ poke tattoos that one of his old high school buddies did while drunk together. he has a little stick figure on the inside of his left wrist, and a horribly disproportionate star on his right.
he’s a moaner. not a loud one, but there has been times where he’s either had to cover up his mouth by a pillow or even by his partners hand. it’s not overtly obnoxious or dramatic, more hushed pants and quick whimpers that escape deep from his throat. when he’s close, that’s when he gets a bit louder, the sound almost guttural.
he really gets a kick out of seeing his partner in his clothes or just doing something in his house. sitting on the couch just TV surfing? he’s hiding behind the doorway to the kitchen just so he can try and get his hard-on to go away.
mike was the type of kid in high school that genuinely did try to pass with good grades, but he just barely managed to scrape by without getting held back from graduation. it’s a regret of his, but understands what was going on during that time.
nicknamed his honda accord ‘marvin’.
really into making out, sometimes preferring it over sex. he likes the closeness and just enjoys the action of kissing — plus, it’s really nice foreplay.
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