#mike schmidt x f!reader
Text
ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒
ㅤㅤghostface!mike schmidt x afton daughter!reader
genre: smut, minors dni, dark content, ghostface au
word count: 4.5k
summary: how were you supposed to know one of your closest friends was also the one in desperate need for revenge?
warnings: dubcon (this can also be considered noncon to some since there's the fear of death in place so if that's not your thing please don't read), knife use, manipulation, voyeurism but no one actually sees, daddy kink, piv, blowjob, nonconsensual somnophilia, male masturbation, reader doesn't know what william did, dirty talking, creampie
a/n: a day late but happy thanksgiving everyone 🖤 i am thankful for my josh hutcherson phase (normally I was going to post this yesterday but oh well you get it)
**dividers made by @saradika xx
How long has it been since you came here? How long has it been since you witnessed the clean beige exterior that now looked more suffocating than liberating?
You observe the dust over the picture frames as you drop the suitcases, the sudden release of weight making your back bend back like a bow. You stare for a while. Your dad had bought this particular vacation home ages ago. Ironically he had done it so the family could spend some quality time together over the summers. That was before the incident. Before your mom left, only leaving you and him.
Now the dirt outside was muddy from the pouring rain. Leaves turning to mush under the pressure of tires and boots. You hear the faint sound of the car door closing. Moments later Mike stands behind you. You can feel his breath tickling the back of your neck. It soothes you.
“So this is the famous summer house huh?” he looks around, not bothering to close the door behind him, he takes a step further. “God, it’s cold in here. Please tell me there’s a heater somewhere.”
“Probably in the basement. Remind you this place wasn’t meant for winter.”
“Yeah I can see that from the windows,” he turns and finally closes the door. “It’s a bit eerie that anyone might just watch us from down there.”
You scoff, “Who’s gonna watch? This house is the only one. Besides it’s just a couple days.”
Your dad was finally selling the place. Meaning you had limited time to pack the things you wanted to keep before the rest was torn out. You knew packing all the old pictures would be overwhelming so you asked Mike to join and he was more than eager to help out—which was a bit surprising but you were grateful nonetheless. He was always kind to you. Always so gentle. He made your heart jump whenever he looked into your eyes, observing, searching them for something more. You never knew what he was searching for.
Mike walks ahead with just his backpack, he’s wearing all black: black hoodie, black pants, black jacket. . . he’s completely contrasting his surroundings. He turns to you with rounded eyes and you melt a little.
“So where am I staying?”
“Let me show you,” It’s odd being in the halls again, you remember them feeling endless when you were a kid. The floor underneath you creaks. “Luckily we have a bunch of rooms. I don’t know what my parents were thinking, it’s not like we entertained a lot of guests.”
“Well, it worked out in the end. Now I have a place to say.”
“Silver lining,” you agree, showing his room. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to head to bed and we can brainstorm where to start in the morning.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he steps inside the room and you can’t help but be reminded of how out of place he looks. “Good night.”
“Good night, Mike.”
He stands at the door with furrowed brows and downturned lips. Not that it’s important what his expression is. It’s not like anyone can see it underneath his mask. The mask that he’d bought last second. It is now or never. And this is his chance to avenge his brother, his broken family. This is the solution to all of it.
It doesn’t help that you’re soundly sleeping. Your lips slightly parted, more skin showing with each rise and fall of your chest. Mike takes a step further inside. The wind howls against the naked windows. Yet, your room managed to stay warm. You turn around to lay on your back and he sees you parting your legs underneath the comforter. His cock grows hard at the sight, he’d love to take you right now. Fuck you until you gasp awake, your sweet cunt dripping with arousal—you’d tell him to stop, not recognizing who he is and he’d go on until you’re creaming around him. Your body becoming sweaty and warm.
Mike licks his lips and rubs a palm over the outline of his cock. His eyes search your room. You hadn’t unpacked yet. Your suitcase open with clothes pouring out the edges. You probably just picked that flimsy shirt you were wearing and headed to bed. He slowly walks to the pile of clothes, within, he finds a pair of black lace underwear. Mike picks it up. A gloved thumb follows the patterns of delicate flowers. His lips curl upward, just what you were planning on doing with him here? In your old family home where it’s just the two of you?
He stands at the edge of your bed. He’s amazed at how much he can get away with without waking you. It’s amazing how much you trust him without a second thought.
Too bad he doesn’t trust you.
With your panties, he fists his cock, the fabric catches against the head prompting the jerk of his hips. He strokes himself fast and hard. Precome seeping into the delicate fabric. His eyes are glued to your lips, the pacing of your breath, your body that’s sprawled underneath the sheets. His cock twitches. Balls tightening as he imagines the sounds you would make for him with a knife against your throat and him deep inside your cunt.
The smallest of groans manage to escape him as he spills into his fist and the fabric, thick ropes of come staining your panties, he inches closer. Hips stuttering helplessly while wishing to see himself dirty your pretty parted lips. He knows he will soon enough. He sees the way you look at him, how desperate you are for affection and a sense of belonging. Mike enjoys the sense of control he has over you. It makes it all that much more sweeter.
He’ll take you. Break you. And pull you back together again.
He’ll ruin William Afton’s precious little girl.
You’re blessed with a little bit of sun today. Bits of dust sway in the air, boxes upon boxes standing around you and Mike. Two empty coffee cups lay idly on the floor. You slept like a baby last night, which was something you hadn’t expected, yet when you woke up you felt a bit off. Your door was open for starters. And you definitely remember closing it. Mike had just shrugged it off, saying that you were tired and probably forgot.
Which is likely, now that you think about it.
Mike picks up one of the framed photos of you and your dad. Despite the sunlight filling the living room, a chill settles over your skin. He observes the photo longer than necessary. Then he traces the engraved name underneath the picture.
“Afton,” he murmurs. “I keep forgetting you’re an Afton.”
He doesn’t let go of the picture as his eyes meet yours, you don’t like the look in them. He almost seems angry.
“What does it matter?” you say in a sheer tone. “It’s not like it means anything whether I’m an Afton or not.”
“I’d beg the differ. And I know some other people would too.”
Mike places the photo in a box, eyes dropping to the floor. Heat rises to your cheeks. You’re confused. Very confused. “Are talking about Freddy Fazbear’s? You know I don’t like talking about that Mike.”
“No need to get defensive. I’m just saying that your surname isn’t nothing,” he gives you a small smile but it does little to calm your nerves. “You were never suspicious of him?”
“Of what?”
He gives you a blank stare, “Of the murders.”
Your mouth opens and very promptly snaps shut. Mike was never interested in this before. He hadn’t even asked about it, not once. Your shoulders drop and your heart feels heavy in your chest—Were you ever suspicious of him? Of your own father? To be fair you never thought about it. You shut your eyes and plugged your ears. You never wanted to think about that wretched pizzeria and all the things that happened in it.
Your stomach jumps when he reaches out, curling his palm over the slope of your knee. You release a long breath.
“Sorry for bringing it up,” he says, his eyes now soft. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“That’s okay.” It wasn’t. You get up, feeling the weight of his gaze as you do. “Alright, I think I’m gonna take a brisk shower then we can make pasta or something.”
“I can start on that,” he answers. “Pesto or marinara?”
“You can pick. I’m fine with either.”
He nods and you leave before he stands. You feel icky all over. The dust and the sudden reality check about your father’s pizzeria and his role in all that had happened make you desperate to scrub yourself clean.
You swiftly enter the bathroom, shutting the door behind you, giving it a hard shove until you hear the satisfying click. The inside smells of lavender.
You strip and throw your clothes into the washing machine. The water warms up easily when you step inside. You draw the curtain shut and sigh at the clean water caressing your skin. Warm showers are the solution to everything. Even daddy issues. You begin to wash your hair, a soft moan dropping from your lips as you massage your scalp. The water trickles down your neck and between your breasts. With soapy hands, you give yourself a firm squeeze and graze your thumbs over the pebbled nipples.
“That’s nice,” you sigh, hands moving up to rinse your hair. Maybe after the shower you can lay down and treat yourself until lunch is ready. Your vibrator’s fully charged, and the prospect of Mike hearing the faint buzz of it makes your pussy throb.
Just as you reach for the loofah a soft click echoes in the steamy room.
Your body tenses. Your heart suddenly beating a mile a minute.
Your eyes turn in the direction of the door but you can’t see well with the curtain. All you see is the blurry darkness of the hall thanks to the open entrance. “Mike?” you call out, voice trembling. “If that’s you it’s not funny.”
Of course, it’s not him. Even from here, you can smell the pasta sauce. Pesto. You desperately search for any kind of weapon you can use but all you see are shampoo bottles and the loofah you’re currently holding. You swallow. Turning back to the curtain, you see a faint shadow. It tilts its head.
You need to attack. Need to do something before they do. How did they even get in here?
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
But you’re frozen with fear as the stranger curls their fingers around the shower curtain. The rest happens suddenly. The curtain is ripped open and you see who it is—Mostly. You see the mask, two pitch-black eyes staring back at you. Instead of screaming you jump away, the porcelain slips from underneath you, you fall and as soon as you do, you’re swallowed by darkness.
Your eyes flutter open. There’s a sharp sting against your forehead.
“Thank god you’re awake.”
“M—Mike?”
Your vision stops shaking and you finally see him. Mike, and his two soft brown eyes staring down at you. He’s holding a ball of cotton, the white stained by a bit of red. “What. . .” You attempt to get up but quickly forgo your decision when your head throbs. Mike clicks his tongue and presses the cotton to your head, your eyes tear up as it stings, but it slightly subsides seconds later. Looking down, you notice a towel was thrown over you.
“I should be asking you that, how the hell did you slip?”
“I. . . I didn’t.”
“What do you mean you didn’t?”
“There. . there was someone in the shower,” Your blood freezes as you remember. “He. . .I think it was a he? He was wearing a mask and he opened the curtain and fuck—I was so scared Mike.”
Your arms move on their own and wrap around his neck, pulling him close. It takes him only a second to mimic your movement, wrapping his arms around your cold shivering body. His fingers trace your spine. A pleasant shiver runs up your back. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now,” he murmurs. “But. . . the door was closed.”
What? “What?” You shake your head as you pull away from him, ignoring the towel slightly sliding lower. “There’s no way. How did you see me then?”
“Well, I shouted for you but you didn’t respond. Then I knocked and you didn’t respond again. The door wasn’t locked so I let myself in.”
“And you found me unconscious? No one was here?”
“Only you.”
You shudder. That’s absolutely terrifying.
“Come on let’s. . .” he swallows and you notice his eyes lingering where your towel has fallen. The swell of your breasts exposed. Looking away, you pull the fabric up and properly wrap it around yourself. His eyes move up to meet your gaze. “Let’s get you dressed and then we can eat.”
Your last night here. Finally.
After the unfortunate fall in the shower, you never managed to shake the feeling of being watched in your own house. You didn’t say anything to Mike but you knew he saw how freaked out you were from your eyes, by the way you would jump at every sound. Every time you closed your eyes you saw the stranger’s mask—those damn black sockets and open mouth staring back at you. It didn’t help that every morning you found your door wide open. You could’ve sworn that you closed it. But without fail, the door was open in the morning.
And you’re so grateful to be done with it all.
Stacks of boxes stand tall near the door. You were adamant about having everything ready tonight so that as soon as the sun peaked through the two of you could leave. Which was why you had ordered Mike to pack his suitcase— you’re doing the same, folding clothes with shaky hands and hoping the morning would come faster.
Throwing your shirt into the suitcase your brows furrow, “What the hell?” you murmur as you lower yourself to your knees. The drawers and closet are emptied out, so why the hell do you only have three pairs of underwear?
Sweat beads at your forehead. With panic, you rummage through the neatly folded clothes. You don’t care about the mess or the fact that you’ll have to fold them again—why can’t you find the other pairs?
You’re completely defeated as your entire body deflates. Just three. You remember packing ten. They’re gone. All gone. Stolen.
Your heart lurches and you feel it beating in your throat. You want to leave. You want to leave. You want to leave.
The phone rings.
It’s loud and booming. Your eyes shot towards the hallway. It’s the landline. A phone that hadn’t been used for god knows how long. You weren’t even aware that it was still connected.
You blink rapidly, forcing the sting of tears to fade. You stand on shaky legs as you head towards the phone in the living room. You vaguely hear Mike mumbling a melody that’s familiar but also not at the same time.
You stare at your reflection in the widows as you pick up the phone. Normally you’d appreciate the view. The dark sky, the swaying pine trees. But not today.
You clear your throat, “H—Hello?”
You hear a faint static, a low internal breathing, then the silence talks back, saying your name. You shudder at the rasp in his voice, fear weighing you down and gluing you to the floor. “Who is this?” you ask.
“You know who I am,” he murmurs and takes a deep inhale. “We’ve met before remember? That moment in the bathroom.” Your body freezes all over, he chuckles, then speaks as if reminiscing a fond memory. “You looked so amazing. Nipples hard, body wet. Were you touching yourself?”
You remain silent, eyes glued to the hall that is lit by Mike’s room. You want to call out. You really do. But you’re terrified.
“Was it him you were thinking about?”
“That’s. . .” you swallow. “That’s none of your business.”
“Everything you do is my business,” he snaps but then the harsh baritone of his voice quickly softens. “Fine. Don’t. I know the answer anyway.”
“What do you want?”
“I want the truth, Miss Afton.” Your breath catches, your knees begin to shake. “Just answer my question and maybe you won’t die.”
You remain silent and you hear the smile in his voice, “Good girl. Now, do you know your father is a murderous piece of trash? Yes or no?”
You close your eyes, shake your head, you can’t answer. “Fine,” he huffs. “Do you think you deserve to live?”
“I. . .” Your mouth goes dry and your fingers tighten around the phone. “I do.”
Honestly, you’re not sure if you believe that.
“Oh, I’m sorry but that’s just not correct,” he answers with a melodic lilt. “You don’t deserve anything. Why should your life matter more than the other kids that were killed by your father?”
“It shouldn’t.”
Your voice barely comes out in a whisper now. Your eyes drop to the floor, maybe if you run and get to Mike in time you can save you both?
“Is your dad a killer yes or no?” then he adds. “You better answer correctly this time.”
“I don’t know,” you say this time, he clicks his tongue in annoyance.
“Wrong.” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath you open them again. All you see is your reflection. “I’ve been watching you,” he says. “You sleep like a log. I watched you. Fucked my fist while you were sleeping soundly, dreaming of sunshine and rainbows,” he sighs. “Or whatever the fuck girls like you dream about.”
You’re appalled by the sudden gush of wetness that courses through you. You shake your head, trying to push the images away. “Please don’t do this,” you beg.
He stops speaking for a good while, for a second you think he hung up, but then you hear his breath in your ear and know that he’s still there. “I keep forgetting.”
“Forgetting what?”
“That you’re an Afton.”
Your heart drops to the pits of your stomach. Every fiber of skin burning and tingling with the realization. You’ve heard those words before. You’ve heard the hidden accusation in them. Your ear burns from the phone pressed against it, you press it harder, not wanting to miss a second of dialogue. Your lips brush against the plastic as you do.
“Mike?”
The line goes dead. Silent. And you realize you preferred words coming from the other line. Tortorously slow, as if in a dream, you place the phone back in its cradle. You feel him before you see him. Your head turns. You feel every muscle pulling as you do.
And there he is.
The man with the mask.
“Mike?” you say again with less conviction. He tilts his head, not moving, not saying anything. Your body stiffens and your eyes drop to his hands where you see the sharp edge of a knife. You drag your gaze back to the mask, hoping that you’re staring into his eyes, “Why?”
He takes a step forward and you take a step back. You’re inches away from the wide windows. “I had a brother,” he says, you’re surprised to find yourself relaxing upon hearing his voice. “I’ve tracked down the suspects. Looked at similar cases for years. Every bit of information leads to Afton.”
“I had nothing to do with it.”
Another step. The glass is cool underneath your palms.
“You father did,” he answers. He stands only an inch away now, your stomach jumps when he presses the sharp edge of the knife against your neck. You hold your breath. “The day he took him is the day I lost everything. My family shattered. All because of him. And now. . .” Mike presses the knife harder, a hint of pain blossoming from where he’d cut. Your eyes snap shut. “Now I’ll take his little girl. Eye for an eye.”
“Mike, please,” you whisper. Then you say something that surprises you both. “Take off the mask. If I’m going to die, I want to see you.”
He tenses but obliges anyway. The mask falls to the floor, his hair mussed, soft curls fall over his forehead. A bit of stubble on his chin from not shaving at all since you two arrived. He doesn’t look scary, not at all. He looks vengeful, yes, but the softness in his eyes is still there.
“What are you going to do to me?”
Mike’s nostrils flare as he inhales, he exhales through parts lips, you feel his warm breath on your skin. “I’m going to ruin you.” The knife is replaced with his hand, he squeezes your throat, pulls you away from the glass, and slams you into it. “You’re mine now. I own you.”
You shudder as he lets you go, his hands fumble with his jeans, and the fabric pools at his ankles. “Get on your knees and suck daddy’s cock.”
You stare at him, wide-eyed but do as you’re told anyway. You drop to your knees. His cock achingly hard in front of you. He holds himself and drags the wet tip across your lips. He slides the underside of his cock against your face and without thought you dart your tongue out, tasting him. Mike groans, the sound rattling in his chest. With no warning given, he slips his cock between your lips and stops halfway. Your eyes water at how thick he is.
When you look up you see he’s holding his phone, camera directed at you with his cock in your mouth. “Sorry,” he says with a faint smirk. “I need a souvenir to remember how good you look with my cock in your mouth. Who knew Afton’s precious daughter was such a slut.”
Your eyes flutter as he shoves the phone back into his jacket pocket. He cradles your head and starts fucking himself deep into your mouth. “You know,” he rasps. Mike pushes himself especially deep and smiles broadly when you choke around him. “You really should be thanking me for not slitting your throat during all the nights I watched you.”
He suddenly stops and pulls out until it’s only the head between your lips. His cock throbs on your tongue, he forces your gaze up to him, “Thank me for not slitting your throat.”
“Thank—” It’s hard to speak with him still between your lips. You swallow and try again, your nipples tight. “Thank you for not slitting my throat.”
“Such an obedient girl,” he muses. “I’m going to fuck you in every corner of this house. Get up—”
He says that but lifts you himself, impatient, he presses you against the window, your cheek smushed against the clear surface. Your neck strains a little. His breath caresses the back of your neck, his lips on your ear, “Time to pay for your father’s sins.”
Mike lifts your shirt and pulls down your sweats. His cock lays heavy above the small of your back. Warm and wet. You clench as he pushes you forward, your breasts fully pressed against the glass. He kicks your legs apart, holding your arms back, Mike slips inside you with ease. Your breath halts in your throat. You only feel pleasure. You drip down his length, and with a groan, he buries himself to the hilt.
“I knew you’d been waiting for this,” he groans. “So fucking wet—”
“M—Mike—”
He clicks his tongue and cocks his head to the side, his forehead brushing against the back of your head. “Not Mike.”
“Daddy,” you moan as he pulls out and slams back in. You choke. “Daddy—”
Mike fucks into your harder, the sound of skin against skin echoes in the room, wet squelches following. Your knees shake as you find yourself completely immobile against the glass. His fingers curl around your neck and he yanks your head back, hips relentless.
“Look at that, anyone could see you now. I wish we had an audience.” Your cunt squeezes him like a vice, his hips stutter forward, a sharp moan rattling in his throat. He laughs. “Does that turn you on?” Helpless, you nod. “That’s it, take it. Daddy’s whore.”
“Kiss me—please—”
The plea takes him by surprise, he stops, hand tensing around your neck, you feel the pulse of his cock deep inside you. He drags his hips down your neck and teases you with his teeth. Goosebumps rise over your skin. And finally—finally—those perfect plush lips meet your own. It’s cruel really. The red strings of fate that tie you two together. You’re still not sure what to make of it all. Or of him. But you surrender. You surrender to his mouth and tongue. Mike swallows you whole. His tongue moves lavishly over yours, sliding and sucking as he presses harder inside you.
“Gonna come inside,” he breathes into your mouth. His hand drops between your legs, your body shaking as he draws tight circles around your clit.
Mike’s lips meet your throat, gentle then ravenous, making their way to the blankets of your clavicle, scraping the delicate skin. You arch against him, pleasure building, craving more. He thrusts harder, deeper, the pleasure increasing with each movement. His fingers grab your hips, and you can feel yourself tightening around him, his cock slamming against your core inside of you. Obscene sounds come from where he’s playing with your clit. You feel like a rag doll. And soon the coil snaps, you’re falling.
Your entire body goes tense, his name leaving your lips in an urgent plea as the pleasure overtakes you. You shake and tremble, Mike continues to hammer into you, hand leaving your core and bracing itself near your head. Briefly, you manage to look outside. See the darkness that looms over the forest. Then you notice his reflection in the glass, eyes meeting yours.
He smiles.
Mike moans loudly, lips parting, his hips stutter over and over, spilling himself inside. Your eyes roll back, a whimper falling from your mouth as you take all of it. He holds himself there until his come starts to drip from where he stretches you. Your forehead finds purchase on the glass. Cold and soothing. His lips brush the back of your neck.
“You look so tired already but we’re not done yet,” he parts your lips with his fingers and pushes them inside. Teary, you find his eyes in the reflection once more. He’s pleased. “I was serious in what I said, Miss Afton. I own you, now.”
“Mike. . .”
“And no matter where you run off to,” he murmurs, cutting you off. A hint of annoyance in using his name. “I’ll always come back.”
#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x fem!reader#mike schmidt x f!reader#dark mike schmidt#ghostface au#ghost face!mike schmidt#josh hutcherson character fanfic#fnaf fanfic#five night at freddy's fanfic#tw daddy kink#tw dubcon
654 notes
·
View notes
Text
every rose has its thorns
1.6k / pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader
← masterlist | notifications blog
summary: mike really likes your white panties with the pretty rose on the front.
warnings/information: soft/sub!mikey whilst still being on top (king), thumb sucking, pet names (angel!), mike using reader to unwind, panty play, size kink, coming wherever he likes ;)
A/N: holy hell just realized this is my first non-pedro-universe-character piece! woohoo! I finally watched fnaf with a girlfriend of mine and with inspiration from a naughty twitter video, I wrote this! I have to give @cupofjoel a huge thank you, please read her entire mike schmidt masterlist, you will not regret it! I wrote this very ill with covid and on mikey brain rot (it's so bad I might have typed mark schmidt instead of mike x.x) so if there’s any errors, apologies are stated now. also thank you to @saradika-graphics for the fnaf banners!
It all started with a pair of panties. A simple brief-style pair, the material rounding around the curves of your ass and ducking pretty between your thighs. White cotton. A small rose embroidered on the front. Untouched, perfectly clean, pristine. Just like you. Unlike Mike.
Mike was all dark boxer briefs, the kind that clutched onto his thick thighs and cupped his lower half for dear life. Or the plaid purple and black boxers he was wearing now accompanied by a bowl of cereal that he was eating after a late night at work, now an early morning. Often shirtless when he was in the privacy of his own room, you had the opportunity to admire his dark, curly chest hair that was speckled across his chest and thinned out across his torso before filling out again at the start of his happy trail.
“Thanks for taking care of Abby,” he said with his mouth half full of Trix, “did she get on the bus alright?”
You nod weakly, gently nudging the back of your hand against your tired eyes.
“Yeah. But I think she misses you at night. I can never soothe her like you can when she has nightmares.”
You watch as Mike sighs and tips the cereal bowl back, the sweet milk dribbling at the corners of his mouth and making small trails around his pretty pink lips. The ceramic bowl chimes as he sets it down on his bedside table, watching from the pillows as he crawls up the bed to join you. The early morning light peaks through his curtains and highlights his dark eyes amber. Your thumb traces his lower lip, and he truly can’t wait any longer. He needs you now.
He spent all last night fantasizing about you. Head down with his arms folded along the security desk, eyes previously on the security monitors now heavily closed as he listens to the sounds of nature. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about you, he had more important things to dream about. But you kept appearing, enticing him, wearing those pretty little panties that he can’t get enough of. The white pair with a rose on the front. The pair he comes home to most mornings once Abby has left for school. The pair you’re wearing now.
Knowing how desperate you both are, you let him guide you how he pleases on the bed. After long night shifts, his routine is to come home and fuck you in the comfort of his dark grey sheets before he falls asleep with your body cuddled in beside his. He pulls you by the ankle to the edge of the bed, legs spread and bent as you nip at your lower lip with a certain eagerness unfolding in the base of your belly.
Mike’s thumbs hook into his plaid boxers, pushing them down until they do the rest of the work, naturally falling and looping around his ankles. He’s already half hard just from looking at you, dreaming about you. He wouldn’t last long looking as wrecked as he was. Tight jaw and fixated eyes, drunk on need and just a little bit of control with his tornado of a life.
“Mike,” you whisper, cupping his cheeks and letting him fold over your body as you feel his hips rest heavily between your thighs, “s’okay, want you to get off however you like.” You cradle his face and kiss the tip of his nose while his long eyelashes flutter in comfort.
“I know, angel. I’m here with you.” His voice is like heaven, drenched in a sweet honey that you’ve found yourself addicted to. You sit up on your elbows as Mike helps navigate your shirt off, admiring the curve of your breasts and the embellishment of your collarbones. So perky and pretty. He praises them with his warm mouth and tongue that can’t help but swirl around your taut peaks. He grunts softly against your soft skin as his hips lightly rut into yours, making your head drift back and forth in his sheets with bliss.
“Fuck, I just,” he mutters quietly against your goosebump-riddled skin, “I love these.” He whispers as he slowly moves to stand up straight once again, his cock resting over the material of your white panties. He’s entranced by the red petals of the rose, the two dark greens that make up the stem and its thorns. Your eyes trail down to his beady red tip, leaking precum that you desperately yearn to kitten lick.
“Every rose has its thorns,” Mike whispers, a raspy edge to it from the lack of sleep he desperately craves. You run your hands down your delicate body, hooking your thumbs in at your hips to your underwear, but Mike stops your movements.
“However I like?” He echoes your statement from earlier, to which you give him a soft nod.
Mike’s always been soft with you, gentle, caring. You think he gets it from being an older brother, the type that has to be the parent most times instead of an actual brother. But when he steps into the bedroom, and Abby is elsewhere, his mind can drift away into being whoever he likes, however he likes. Merciless, rough, desperate, needy, sweet. Everything that made him unwind was all shared with you. And for that, you felt thankful. You could be the key to his lock, the one that kept his head up from drowning with the overflowing responsibilities he always managed to juggle at the final second. You were the one person he could fall apart with, and everything would be completely fine.
So when his hand started to stroke up and down his cock, making your mouth water for a certain desire, you were eager to help him unwind. Lose his mind in a little slice of heaven. The pad of his thumb slowly begins to stroke up and down your clothed center, eliciting a desperate whimper from your lips as he circles over your sensitive nub. He could see it through your underwear with how aroused you were growing. Your clit swelled for affection.
A small wet spot starts to grow, an embarrassing little pool that shows through the white cotton of your panties, just at the sprout of the rose. You let out a shaky breath as Mike traces the looping pattern with his forefinger. He then peels the material gently away from your sticky center, laying his thirsty cock between your folds before he lets the underwear blanket you both. He barely fits inside the dainty material. His cock swells with volume and makes your panties stretch to accommodate. He was large. And all yours.
You whimper in need, hoping for more but realizing you could get off just like this.
His breaths are already labored as he starts to thrust, feeling his tip nudge your clit with every beat. You fist the sheets, letting him use you like a wet little toy. He’s not sure what to do with his hands at first. They start on keeping your legs spread at the underside of your thighs, before one settles on your hip and the other is cupping your cheek. Not long after, his thumb pushes past the plushness of your lips, forcing you to suckle and moan around the intrusion.
Your eyes stay connected, a silent bond between you both. This is a safe space for you, come unraveled before me.
The next time you look down, the pooling of liquid from his cock has stained your panties. And he has no remorse. Your lips part at the truly dirty sight. He’s leaked so much that your panties have become nearly translucent. You can see the pink of his tip with each thrust and the curve of his shaft.
You grow even wetter, feeling him slip up and down your arousal-filled heat, each thrust making you moan weakly. A shiver rolls up your spine, your walls squeezing around nothing as the coil inside of you twists tighter and tighter.
Mike cages you with his body as he leans down and kisses you in a distracted way, one that leaves his lips parted against yours as he airs out a few soft grunts while his thrusts slowly falter.
“Mike, please,” you moan softly against the stubble that lines his cheek, your nose gently gliding against it as you tilt your head back into his mattress, feeling yourself come undone to his thrusts.
His forehead clustered with sweat sinks desperately into your neck, sponging kisses and moaning weakly as he rids himself of his latest dirty fantasies. He gasps and grunts against your throat as he finishes with hot spurts against the material of your panties, making your jaw drop as you feel the seething warm cum spill and dribble along your stomach and inner thighs.
Your hearts race in sync, feeling the post-orgasmic high that you catch every morning these days. His cock is still buried in your panties, your hole untouched, and your clit singing with fresh sensitivity. You kiss his earlobe and smile against his skin.
“You’ve been wanting to do that for a while?” You ask curiously, coiling a dark curl around your finger before it springs loose.
“Shit,” he mutters weakly, hazy eyes meeting yours as you sweetly kiss his parted lips once more. “M’sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
You simply shake your head and wipe the small bead of sweat that neared his eyebrow. “Don’t have to apologize for anything. You already know that.”
He sighs weakly, but it’s of appreciation. He smiles despite how tired he feels, sponging your cheeks and chin with gentle kisses as he interlocks your hands by your head. “I love you. Mean it.”
“With all your heart?” You ask.
He nods tightly and pulls your clasped hands to his warm chest. “With all my heart.”
hellishjoel masterlist | notifications blog
#mike schmidt#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt x f!reader#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt fanfiction#mike schmidt x reader#fnaf#five nights at freddy's fanfiction#fnaf fanfiction#five nights at freddy's
324 notes
·
View notes
Text
Soft Spot
Derek Danforth x GN!Reader
Summary: After a long, frustrating day of work, Derek comes back home to you for comfort. Being the tough, asshole-ish, and reckless man he was on the outside, he easily melts into you with sweetness and submission. After all, he had such a soft spot for you.
Word Count: 1.7k
Content: fluff, gender neutral reader, cuddling, cursing, reader babying Derek, reader feeding him cherries (putting their fingers in his mouth, wow) but it’s not sexual (maybe only slightly suggestive), reader and Derek are engaged already, basically tooth-rotting fluff and intimacy, short but sweet, inspired by a scene from S02E06 of The Bear
-
You were laying on the mattress in the bedroom that you and Derek shared, looking down at your phone while eating cherries from the nightstand. There was a sweet domesticity to it—you in your pajamas, snuggled up in bed, waiting for your boyfriend (or rather, fiancé) to come back home.
Derek had a long, exhausting day of work. He thought today was going to be like every other day, relaxed and held back, but instead, he had to deal with so much bullshit from Danforth Enterprises, including international affairs and money complications. And his employees made things even worse, their incompetence driving him insane until every sentence he spoke had at least one “fuck” in it. And not only that, but UDG and Nine Star were experiencing setbacks and issues that could have probably been easily fixed if it wasn’t for his idiotic employees. After an entire day of yelling at his absentminded workers with hostility, he was so desperate to just come home to you.
It was only until the evening when you finally saw Derek in the doorway of the room, letting out an exasperated sigh. He looked… rough, to say the least, despite the fact he was wearing a fancy and highly expensive black suit. He was still very attractive, of course, especially in that suit, but right now he just looked utterly exhausted. You turned off your phone, placing it face down on the nightstand to give him your full attention.
“Hey, my love,” you coo softly, smiling up at him.
“Hey, babe,” he mumbles tiredly, slowly walking towards you.
“Rough day?”
“Yeah.”
“Come here,” you grin, grabbing him by his black necktie to bring his lips to yours, sharing a brief, soft kiss. Then he lazily went into bed, melting into your arms with his head buried in your neck. He melted into you entirely. He felt comforted and warm in your embrace, the tension in his muscles gradually dissipating.
“They didn’t keep you too long, did they?” You ask gently, holding him closely as you caress his hair.
“They totally did, Y/n. Today was a fucking mess,” he huffs, yet already too relaxed to even raise his voice. “I swear, baby, these guys are so fucking incompetent and can’t do their goddamn jobs. Those fucks give me such a migraine.”
You continue to stroke his hair and then his face. “Aww, my poor baby,” you coo soothingly. Derek loved all of it, leaning into your touch and just being limp in your arms. However, he would shoot anyone else who witnessed him in this state. “Westwyld just hired a whole bunch of idiots. He’s even an idiot himself. It’s none of your fault, my love.”
He sighs softly, nuzzling into your neck further. “I know,” he mumbles dismissively. “But it’s just so fucking frustrating because I feel like I always have to do everything ‘cause they keep fucking things up. Like, what are we even paying them for if they can’t do their fucking job?”
You chuckle under your breath. “I know, honey, I know,” you whisper. “Well, that’s why you’re the CEO, yeah? To keep everything, you know, all balanced and orderly?” He hummed in understanding. You look over to the nightstand, then grabbed a cherry from the box. Derek noticed this action and pulled his head out from your neck, now sitting up against the bed frame. You then guided the small, red fruit to his lips. “Open,” you order in a gentle voice.
You watched him open his mouth and you placed the cherry in, letting the stem rip off, placing it in a bowl for stems and pits. He began to chew it slowly, indulging in the sweet and juicy sensation in his mouth while also enjoying the fact that you were feeding him. The cherry tasted different than any others he had tried, all sweet with no bitter or even slightly tart aftertaste. “Mm, these are good, where did you get these?” He asked with a mouthful of cherry flesh, his speech slightly muffled.
“Hm, it was a shipment from Japan,” you answer. “I think they’re, like, the most expensive cherries in the world… Open,” you say again, letting your fingers enter his mouth to grab the pit, placing the seed in the bowl on the nightstand. In the few seconds your fingers were in his mouth, it was arousing and suggestive, to say the least. But all you wanted to do right now was to take care of him with the least amount of energy possible. If he was fatigued, then you should let him rest.
“I can’t believe I’m going to marry you,” he murmurs, his eyes flickering down to his shiny silver engagement ring.
“And I can’t believe I’m marrying you, my love,” you chuckle, kissing his cheek, reaching over to the nightstand to grab another cherry. His lips parted, letting you place it in his mouth, eating it contently. “How did your day go, baby? Like, before everything went to shit. Tell me all the good.”
After he ate most of the cherry’s flesh, he let your fingers in his mouth once more, removing the pit and placing it in the bowl. There was something so curiously intimate about this moment, feeding him, removing the pit for him, and holding him close.
“Had my usual coffee,” he answers quietly.
“Oh yeah? Your flat white with oat milk?”
“And extra shot of espresso—”
“—extra espresso, yes,” you giggle, stroking his hair once more. “How much espresso does one need? Like, flat whites are meant to have a higher espresso-to-milk ratio, yet you still want more.”
He pouted, looking at you from the side. “But it’s good.”
“Do you even need to say ‘extra shot of espresso’? Like, as a flat white, I’m pretty sure they’re adding more espresso than, say, a latte,” you grin.
“I know, but I want more than usual, like, more than a flat white,” he reasons, yet his delivery suggesting that he was lying.
“Wow. You’re just greedy, aren’t you?”
“You know me,” he mumbles.
“You don’t know the difference, do you? Is that why you always ask for an extra shot, just to make sure?” You say, calling him out.
He just pouts silently at your teasing, which only amused your further. “You’re a dork,” you giggle.
“Meanie.”
“You’re the meanie. You never answered my call,” you utter. It was true. He was too caught up with work that he didn’t even know you called him up at that time.
“Oh, shit…” he sighs. “I’m sorry, babe. I was just so busy today, I totally forgot to get back to you.”
You frown. “Hey, no, don’t—don’t apologize, I was just teasing. I know how busy you were today and I’m sorry that you were surrounded by idiots. You’re okay.”
“Okay.”
For one last time, you grab a cherry, guiding it into his mouth. You wait for him to chew it until you’d take the pit out from his mouth. You wipe some of the fruit’s juice off the corner of his lips, but suddenly, his mouth welcomes in your fingers once more, sucking lightly on your fingertips before you pulled them away to kiss his lips passionately. It was a patient, loving kiss, your lips moving slowly with his as you savored the cherry taste on him.
You had him in an embrace in one arm and the other was occupied by cupping his face gently. Your touch was tender, making him feel comforted and warm. You looked closely at his face, absorbing all of the details. You could see the faint freckles spread across his nose and cheeks. He was so close to you. And he was beautiful.
“Hi,” you whisper, looking deeply into his eyes.
“Hi,” he whispers back.
“You’re so cute,” you comment.
You caress the side of his face as he enjoyed feeling your soft palm and fingertips graze his cheek. His eyes closed sleepily, completely infatuated with your soothing touch and the way you encompassed his body. You pressed a kiss on the top of his head. And again. And again.
He felt small.
Like, smaller than usual.
He was completely vulnerable with you and it was freeing. This was a part of him that nobody else but you knew about. He could curse and be a privileged, arrogant dickhead whenever he pleased, but at the end of the day, he is always succumbing to your embrace and warmth. He was indisputably smitten with you—infatuated, even. You were the only person he could be fragile around.
“You know, your mom is always on my ass about you,” you chuckle, pressing two soft kisses on the top of his head as you pet his curls.
“Huh? I thought she liked y—”
“No, no, it’s not like that. She just asks me about you all the time. How you’re doing and everything.”
“Oh.”
“I think it’s because she knows you only open up to me,” you point out.
“Yeah, well… She’s been busy her whole life. I’ve never gotten the time to… You know… Actually have a full, authentic conversation with her.”
You kiss the top of his head once more, then let your head rest on it. “Mommy issues?”
He hums in response.
“Does the fact that she and Westwyld having some weird thing—in the past, at least—also affect your relationship with her?” You ask curiously.
“Well, sort of. I don’t know, he always acts—”
“He tries to act like a dad to you, yeah,” you giggle.
There was a silent pause as you two just cuddled each other, Derek, especially, feeling safe in your arms.
“Stop investing in crypto,” you murmur, stroking his hair.
“Mm, stop crushing my dreams,” he grumbles wearily.
“Your ‘dreams’ would get us broke if you weren’t already a billionaire.”
He chuckles and you proceed to caress him gently, observing him silently.
“S’it too hot, my love?” You inquire gently, beginning to help him remove his tie and then his blazer once he nodded. “Better?” He hummed as you placed the clothes at the end of the bed and went back to cuddling him.
He was closer than before, laying down beside you with his face buried into your neck. He held onto your waist tightly as if you’d disappear any second, and your arms wrapped around him generously. You press a soft kiss to his forehead and hold him warmly.
“You’re going to be my husband…” you whisper sweetly, kissing the top of his head once more.
“Mm, you’re going to be my spouse…” he mirrors.
“I love you so much.”
“I love you too. So, so much.” Derek mutters sleepily, melting into your touch.
You rubbed his back, letting your head rest against his. Until finally, after peppering his face and head with kisses, you two fell asleep in each other’s arms, feeling safe and secure.
#derek danforth#derek danforth x reader#derek danforth x gn!reader#derek danforth fluff#The beekeeper#the beekeeper movie#the beekeeper fanfic#josh hutcherson#josh hutcherson x reader#Josh hutcherson x you#josh hutcherson fluff#derek danforth x you#fluff#mike schmidt fluff#peeta mellark fluff#clapton davis fluff#m!reader#f!reader#gn!reader#nb!reader#mike schmidt x reader#clapton davis x reader#josh futturman x reader#josh futturman#peeta mellark x reader#reader insert
248 notes
·
View notes
Text
Saw the FNAF movie not long ago. To say the least, I loved it! I love Mike and Abby and their sweet sibling relationship!
Also, special mention to when me and my friends watched the movie in theaters (the second time I saw it) and when the part where Mike beat up the dad in the water fountain came on, I told my friends, “I wish I were that guy right now.”
#five nights at freddy's#fnaf#fnaf movie#mike schmidt#abby schmidt#violence mention tw#movies#2020s movies#horror movies#universal pictures#blumhouse#fictosexual#fictoromantic#f/o#romantic f/o#f/o x self insert#f/o x y/n#f/o x you#f/o x reader#fictional crushes#self shipping#self ship
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
BEAUTIFUL THING
mike schmidt x f!reader
word count; 2,573
warnings; smut, no plot, just porn :D
summary; there was nothing in the world she wanted more than mike schmidt. but what were the chances he'd ever make a move on her?
She wanted Mike Schmidt.
Don’t get her wrong, she absolutely adored Abby, she was sweet, funny, and overall not a hard kid to take care of. But she knew all too well what her intentions were when she agreed to take up the babysitting job— how could she say no when he looked at her like that with those big, deep brown eyes?
It was another late night spent at the Schmidt house— Mike had just gotten himself a new job with unholy hours, some late night security gig he had no choice but to take. Her mouth opened in a yawn and through her bleary vision, she blinked down to the watch on her wrist.
4:30 AM. Mike wouldn’t be back for another hour and a half or so.
She sighed and threw her head back against the cushions, staring absentmindedly at the television as some old cartoon played, audio soft and muffled. She wasn’t sure why she even bothered trying to stay up for Mike— she’d been babysitting for him for months, (without pay, might she add) and still, neither he nor she had made any moves. She wasn’t even sure if he ever even intended to make a move on her.
But she was just so certain that he felt at least some sort of attraction towards her. She could see it in the way he looked at her, how his eyes would absentmindedly trail down her body against his better judgment, how he’d pull the inside of his bottom lip between his teeth while he did. She could see it in the way his body would react when she came too close, like when she gave him a handshake or playfully shoved his shoulder.
It was the same way she reacted when he was close.
Surely it couldn’t all be for nothing?
Her eyelids were falling heavy against her eyes and she slowly slumped further into the cushions of the couch, hands tightening around the blanket around her body. Sleep was so close that she could reach out and feel it, and she would’ve slipped into the arms of slumber if it hadn’t been for the opening and closing of the front door.
She grumbled and furrowed her brows down at her watch.
4:35 AM. Mike wasn’t supposed to be home yet.
At the notion, she jolted and snapped her head towards the entrance, her heart thrumming against her chest as she prepared herself for the sight of a total stranger, ready to make a run straight for Abby’s room. She blinked and narrowed her eyes at the dark silhouette of the figure as it hung its coat on the rack bolted on the wall.
“Sorry. S’ just me.”
She knew that voice. It was a voice she always dreamed about, a voice belonging to someone she’d seen practically everyday.
“Mike?” Her voice came out rough, having not spoken for hours, not since Abby had gone to bed. “What are you doing home so early?” She asked as she pushed herself further up the sofa while Mike made his way towards the recliner, wiping a hand down his face before plopping down into the seat. She could only make out his face through the light from the television but even then, she could sense something was off.
Mike tapped his fingers against the armrest of the recliner, “I… I just… needed to leave… I guess,” he replied and she frowned, scooting to the far side of the couch closest to him. “Is… is everything alright?” She questioned, unsure whether or not he needed consoling. Mike leaned further back into his seat and let his eyelids flutter closed, inhaling deep through his nostrils.
“Just… is Abby asleep?” He finally asked after a moment and she nodded, humming. “She went down earlier than usual. Actually managed to get her to eat something,” she replied, her lips curving into a smile but quickly faltering again when she realized Mike wasn’t going to reciprocate. He looked almost… distraught.
Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she pondered her options. She’d known Mike for some time but even then, she still knew little to nothing about him. He slept a lot, that was for sure. And he loved his little sister and was trying so hard to be exactly the type of person she needed. But she knew nothing about him, Mike Schmidt himself. She didn’t know what he did in his free time, what he liked to eat, if he had hobbies, nothing.
Hell, she’d spent so much time fantasizing about him and filling in all the holes herself, she hardly even acknowledged that he could be somebody entirely else. She didn’t know the first thing about him.
But she could learn to try.
She leaned forward, a steady hand warily finding his on the armrest of the recliner and she flinched when Mike snapped his eyelids open, looking between her and their touching hands. Their gazes surged into one another and she made no moves, as if seeking any sign that she should stop.
Mike’s heart thrummed so hard inside his chest, it was a miracle that she couldn’t hear it. She looked at him as if she were asking permission— permission to what, he hadn’t even the slightest clue. But in spite of the voices inside of his head telling him he shouldn’t, that he shouldn’t let her, that he was wrong for her, he did. How could he say no when she looked at him like that, as if he were the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid eyes upon?
His silence gave her the confidence to let her fingers creep further down to the back of his hand, flipping it around until they rested against the heel of his palm. Slowly, she soothed the tips of her fingers up his palm until they fell between the cracks of his, letting her digits curl around his knuckles. Mike shuddered at the touch and let his own fingers press down against hers and he watched as she raised their intertwined hands to her mouth, their gazes molded together as she pressed her lips against his skin. His lips trembled as they fell open and he narrowed his eyes, clinging onto the last bit of restraint he had left.
“You can relax with me, Mike,” she whispered against his skin, pressing another soft kiss to the knuckle of his ring finger. “You don’t have to worry while I’m around.”
Mike pressed his lips back together and fought back the urge to groan at her words, his eyes wandering from their hands, down her arm, to her chest where it pressed against the edge of the sofa. His breath shuddered when he exhaled and the rubber band stretched inside of him finally released and with it, the last of his restraint.
Fuck it, he thought. It’s been long enough.
Mike tugged her closer by the hand and her lids widened, a squeal slipping from her lips, in which he was swift to eat right up, pressing his mouth against hers. With his hand not intertwined with hers, he gripped her hip, working his way up to her waist to squeeze. The sound she made was muffled inside their admittedly messy kiss and he pulled her even closer, her knees having nowhere to go but on the outside of his thighs.
Mike groaned and pulled away to catch his breath as her hips ground down against his, already feeling frustrated with the growing erection in his jeans. He blinked up at the woman on top of him, her arms thrown over his shoulders, her chest heaving as she chased air back into her lungs. She stared down at him with hazy irises, still bleary from lack of sleep.
“Sorry,” Mike finally managed to breathe out, his palms resting on either of her thighs. “Probably a little much, wasn’t it?”
He watched as the corners of her lips curved into a grin and she chuckled breathlessly, shaking her head. “Not enough,” she tittered as she surged her lips back into his, one of her hands on his shoulders slithering their way into his mess of dark tendrils, fingers curling and tugging at his roots. He hissed inside her mouth and dug his fingernails into her skin, a whimper falling from her lips, allowing him to take control of the situation.
He pressed himself forward and reached for the end of her t-shirt and she briefly broke away to allow the fabric up and over her head, her own fingers already working at the buckle of his belt. Mike leaned forward to pepper kisses all across the tops of her breasts and she threw her head back as he took over in undoing his belt, ripping it from his loops and throwing open the button and zipper of his jeans.
She clambered off of him as he raised his hips to tug his pants and boxers down just enough to allow his erection to spring free of its restraints, feeling her stomach do a somersault at the sight as she stripped herself of her own shorts and panties. Mike fought the urge to wrap his hands around his cock as she reached behind her back to undo the clasps of her bra and time seemed to slow as the straps fell from her shoulders, the lave toppling to the floor altogether.
He swore he could feel his mouth water and never before this moment had he wanted something, or someone, more. He blinked up at her, following her gaze down to his lap and at his erection that stood tall, waiting for her, dripping with pre-cum.
Mike cocked an eyebrow, “you just gonna stand there or you gonna take it?” He asked, voice low and husky and fuck, she thought she’d drop dead right then and there. Still, this was a dangerous game they were playing. “What about Abby?” She whispered, glancing towards the hallway where Abby’s room was. “What if she wakes up?”
Mike pressed his lips together and bucked his hips, raising a leg to softly give her calf a kick. “You can be quiet, right?” He murmured in question and she felt herself clench from his voice alone. Here Mike Schmidt was, cock out and erect, all because of her. This was something she had only dreamed of— never did she think that this would become reality.
Mike cocked his eyebrow again and she shook herself from her thoughts, taking his hand as he guided her back onto his lap. Her body shuddered and her bones rattled as she began to sink herself down, jolting when the tip brushed against her cunt, teeth sinking down into the plush of her bottom lip to contain her sounds.
“It’s okay,” Mike whispered. “I got you.”
Her eyes about rolled in the back of her head at that as his hands kneaded at the flesh of either of her hips, guiding her further down his length, making sure to go agonizingly slow to ensure she felt every single fucking inch of cock inside of her. Tears brimmed the outskirts of her eyelids as she finally sat still on his lap, filled to the brim with cock. Mike let her head fall down against the curve of his shoulder, burying her nose into the crook of his neck as she allowed time to adjust to his size, simultaneously trying to keep her sounds to a minimum.
“You’re so tight,” Mike’s breath shuddered in her ear and his voice made goosebumps litter her skin, his fingertips like the icy breath of a ghost against her back. “You think you can handle moving now?” He asked in a whisper against the shell of her ear and she nodded, letting him grab her thighs and push her further up his cock until just the head remained. She cried against his neck when he sank her all the way back down his length, the lewd noise of their wet skin slapping together making her clench around him. “Fff… uuck,” he dragged his curse out as he snapped his hips up against her.
“Shit!” She gasped as he thrusted again and again and again. And she let him. She let him use her in whatever way he pleased.
“Gonna be good for me?” He muttered next to her ear. “Gonna let me take care of you, hm?” She nodded, bobbing her head up and down against his shoulder as he snapped his hips up to hers again and again, daring the coil inside her belly to snap. “Think you can handle it?” He asked again and she nodded once more, crying and biting down on his collar. “Yes!” She cried, fortunately muffled against his skin.
So Mike thrusted again, harder and harder, chasing that high, that release he so desperately needed. He could tell she was close— it’d probably been so long since she’d been stuffed by cock like this. She’d probably been waiting for this moment just as long as he has.
With the pad of his thumb, he pressed down against her aching bud and Mike could feel a fresh new set of tears soak his skin as she cried, bucking her hips into his touch. His thrusts were as sloppy as they were powerful and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.
“Mmm… Mike… I’m… I’m gonna…” she hardly managed to stutter out, slowly feeling the coil inside her stomach as it began to unravel.
“Yeah?” Mike said, his other hand wrapped around her neck and pushing her forehead down against his, gazing up at her closed eyelids. He rolled his head against hers, “look at me,” he breathed out and watched as she slowly fluttered her lids back open, just as more fat tears beaded down her cheeks. The sight was enough to get him to teeter on the edge himself.
“Gonna come?” He asked and she nodded, sweat-slicked forehead lolling against his. He nodded too, already feeling her release around him as she spawned around his cock, relying solely on him and his body to keep herself up. She buried her face in the crook of his neck again as she whined and cried, Mike’s thrusts speeding up as he gave himself that final push he needed to send himself reeling, spiraling and shaking with the force of his release.
“Fuck,” he growled into the skin just below her ear, squeezing his eyelids shut tighter as he willed himself to keep his sounds on the low, for the sake of his little sister sleeping just in the other room.
Silence fell over Mike and the babysitter for a good, long moment as they both recovered from their highs, chasing air back into their lungs as the realization of what they had just done began to sink in. Mike should be mortified— she was his sister’s babysitter, he doesn’t have time for this, she doesn’t deserve him, he shouldn't have done this.
But the woman in his lap settled herself closer into him, nuzzling her nose against the crook of his neck, her lips like a crescent moon against his skin as she placed a soft kiss to his flesh there.
“I hope you’re okay, Mike,” she whispered and he threw his head back, an arm thrown around her body as he stared up at the ceiling. How could he push her away now?
a/n; so yeah!!! i watched fnaf on friday and it kinda sorta just brought back my whole josh hutcherson phase so enjoy!! this was just a quick little something i wrote up and there's like no plot at all and not proofread LMAO
#mike schmidt#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt imagine#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt fnaf#five nights at freddy's#fnaf movie#fnaf#josh hutcherson#michael afton#michael afton x reader
9K notes
·
View notes
Note
can you write a smut fic with mike x reader where he eats you out?? thank you!!
°∘❉∘° °∘❉∘° °∘❉∘° °∘❉∘° °∘❉∘° °∘❉∘° °∘❉∘°
Eating In (It's good for you)
pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader
summary: mike is a munch always why would i write anything else???
warnings: 18+!!! NSFW!!! MDI!!! oral sex (f!receving), fingering, squirting (kinda?)
word count: y'all already know 1.3k+
authors note: you guys really speak my language. the beginning of this got a lot fluffier than i was expecting lol still filthy though. 18+ content mdi!!! hope you love it anon mwah <333 also pretty sure i flipped flopped between perspectives sorry babies i'm dumb
°∘❉∘° °∘❉∘° °∘❉∘° °∘❉∘° °∘❉∘° °∘❉∘° °∘❉∘°
it's no secret that mike lives for eating you out. he could live between your thighs if it was up to him, spending hours drawing out those desperate noises from your lips when he does that thing with his tongue that you love.
the feeling of your hands tugging his hair and your thighs tightening around his head because you just feel so good make his eyes roll back in his head every time he thinks about it.
tonight was no exception, but it was a little different.
as soon as the two of you put abby to bed he was on you. pinning you to his bed as you lazily made out, grinding against each other in slow relaxed motions.
“baby,” mike breathes between kisses, “can you do me a favor?”
you hum in acknowledgement, not wanting to pull away from kissing mike enough to reply.
mike chuckles against your lips, breaking the kiss to nip teasingly at your lips. “i want you to ride my face.” he whispers dirtily, licking a stripe over your lips.
mike watched as his request sinks in, your eyes widening and mouth dropping open just a bit. “mike…” you whisper, he can hear the hesitation in your voice. he can’t have that.
“come on baby, please?” he pleads, moving his hands to rub soft circles into your hips. “you’ll love it, baby. i’ll make it so good for you.”
mike can see the moment your pupils completely dilate, fully swallowing your iris’. your chest heaving as your adrenaline kicks up.
after a beat, you nod slowly. your soft “okay” barely audible, mike grins like he just won the lottery.
“well hop on baby,” mike says, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “we don’t have all night.”
mike pulls away, falling on his back on the bed. laying his laced hands on his stomach, waiting patiently for you to give him what he wants.
he waits as you take a steadying breath, gathering up the courage before you rise up and start to shuffle over to him. mikes hungry eyes watch you swing your leg over his lap, making your way up his body.
you stop short, sitting on his stomach with a timid look. mike places two grounding hands on your hips, squeezing them reassuringly.
“you have to tell me if i’m smothering you or something. i don’t need to accidentally kill you.” your hands fidget with the waist of mikes pants nervously.
“what a way to go.” he says wistfully, a dopey grin on his face.
you let out a small laugh, trying and failing to hide your smile. “you’re such an asshole.” you reply, pinching his chest teasingly. your tone is too fond to hold any actual malice. mike laughs back.
finally, you start to shuffle higher up his torso, but he stops you holding your hips in place. “other way, baby.”
it doesn’t take a lot of brain power to understand what he means. you let out a soft moan, a shiver wracks your body. pleasure zings up your spine at how filthy this is.
it’s a little awkward, but you manage to swing your legs around so you're facing the rest of his bedroom, not just the wall. from this angle, you can see how his dick is tenting the front of his loose sleeping pants, a wet spot forming near the tip.
you still only hover over your boyfriend's face instead of truly sitting, scared of hurting him. mike decides not to say anything, too preoccupied with the view directly in-front of him.
“fuck,” mike whispers hotly, staring up at your clothed pussy makes his dick twitch. baby pink lace darkened by how wet you are. he leans up slightly, running his tongue over the rough lace still covering you.
"shit...mike," you shudder, legs trembling on either side of his head.
mike takes his time, laving his tongue over the soaked lace a few times, reveling in your familiar taste, but his patience wears thin. soon enough he's tugging your panties aside to get at what he really wants before returning them to your hips.
mike moans at the sight of your slick pussy, already so wet from his mouth. he can't help but softly run his pointer finger through your folds, gathering your wetness and using it to circle around your clit.
you moan softly, trying your best to be quiet so abby doesn't wake up.
mike stops his fingers assault on your clit, too eager to chase the sight of your convulsing pussy with his mouth, the tip of his tongue sliding easily through your folds. he groans, rubbing his face between your thighs, no doubt covering his nose and chin in the copious amount of wetness leaking from your pussy. he quickly gets lost in the feeling of tasting you, of licking and sucking at your clit making you moan and whine.
"shit!" you exclaim, pitching forward to steady yourself with your hands flat on his chest. the rough feel of his stubble scratching your inner thighs, most likely leaving red marks on the skin there. you hope it'll leave marks, that you'll be able to feel it every time you walk tomorrow, a reminder of what the two of you did tonight.
by now you're white knuckling the front of his shirt as you frantically circle your hips against his face, the bed squeaking quietly under your movements. mike spurs you on with small smacks to your ass, groaning into your pussy with every pass of his tongue over your fluttering hole.
you can feel the vibrations in mike's throat as he fucks you with his tongue, guttural groans making your thighs shake in an attempt to stay upright.
but it's just too much, the onslaught of his tongue making you forget all about your earlier insecurity, and you fully lower yourself onto his mouth too caught up in your pleasure to even hold yourself up anymore.
mike's eyes widen in surprise at you seating yourself on his face, moaning way too loudly at how hot it is to see you lose control.
"fuck! feels so good, mike," you slur, head hanging down to your chest, hair falling around your face. "mph- mike - ah, ah, ah,"
you realize you're going to come like this, riding mike's face like you're starved for it. you can feel it, the warmth settling deep in your belly. flames licking there way up your body.
mike realizes it too apparently, because he latches his mouth over your clit and plunges two fingers into your clenching pussy, thrusting them in and out quickly.
the lewd squelching noises that fill the room make your cheeks burn in embarrassment.
“holy fucking shit! mike fuck!” you moan, trying desperately to control your volume. “i’m gonna come, oh fuck.” mike moans in respines, speeding up both his tongue and fingers.
the combination of mike’s tongue rapidly flicking over your clit and thick fingers expertly hitting your g-spot every thrust pushes you over the edge. one final suck to your clit has you coming all over mike’s face. drenching the lower part of his face in your juices and soaking up the dirty groans mike makes as he sucks up every last drop.
mike pulls away from you clit, and takes his fingers out of your pussy to let you come down from your orgasm. kissing across the inside of your thighs as you shake and tremble above him.
after a few shuddering breaths, you lift up and off mike’s face to collapse onto the mattress next to him. the two of you lay next to each other staring up at the ceiling, panting out wet breaths as you come down.
you turn to mike, his lips are slick and red. lower half of his face shining with your come, eyes half-open and hazy. you lift your hand to trial your finger down his body, making your way to the waist of his sleeping pants riding low on his hips showing off his dark happy trail. your hand slides lower to the ever still present hard-on tenting his pants obscenely, rubbing over his erect dick with purpose.
“your turn?”
°∘❉∘° °∘❉∘° °∘❉∘° °∘❉∘° °∘❉∘° °∘❉∘° °∘❉∘°
taglist!
@yuenity @ebodebo @mfdxz
#natalia writes!#natalia cant write anything under 1.000 words#fnaf#fnaf movie#mike schmidt#five nights at freddy's#micheal schmidt x reader#josh hutcherson#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt x reader smut#josh hutcherson smut#mike schmidt imagine#mike schmidt x you#fnaf smut#smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
SWEET TOOTH
pairing: mike schmidt x female reader
rating: explicit
word count: 1.1k
summary: mike has a sweet tooth. when he sees you come home from the grocery store with an extra bag you’re trying to hide, your efforts to keep your candy away from him turn dirty.
author’s note: i have no explanation. just a sprinkle of josh hutcherson brain rot that turned into this.
warnings/tag: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), established relationship, dry humping, desperate mike, sub mike vibes, pet names (including good boy), teasing, play fighting, kissing, mike cumming in his pants, begging.
Mike stumbles out of the bedroom when he hears the door open, the rustle of plastic grocery bags followed by the gentle opening and closing of the kitchen cabinets letting him know you’re back from dropping Abby off at school and running to the store. He didn’t sleep much but it doesn’t matter, not when he’s been missing you for the last couple of nights.
“Hey,” he says, entering the kitchen and sliding his arms around your waist. “What did you get?”
“Just the usual. Some frozen pizzas. Rice. Those burritos you like were on sale, so I got a bunch of those,” you reply. There’s a bag on the counter that’s still full and when he tries to reach for it to help you out, you snatch it away. He raises his eyebrows.
“What’s in the bag?” He asks.
“Nothing.” You step away from him, hiding the bag behind your back. “It’s just…feminine things.”
He doesn’t buy it.
“You mean the same feminine things that are fully stocked in the bathroom right now?”
You shrug. “They were on sale.”
“I don’t think you’re telling the truth,” he teases, taking another step toward you. You back up, but he moves forward. You shift to the side and he follows suit. “Is it candy?”
You stomp your foot petulantly. “Michael Schmidt, you are not stealing my candy this time. You and Abby ate all of my M&Ms last weekend!”
“Sharing is caring!” He tries to reach for you but you duck around him, running for the living room with your bag in hand.
Mike chases after you, following the sound of your laughter and watching as you round the back of the couch, using the piece of furniture to defend yourself. Every time he moves, you shift in the other direction, bag still held behind your back. He moves forward and your eyes narrow.
“Don’t you dare,” you hiss. Like a disobedient cat, he places one foot on the couch cushions, raising his eyebrows at you in defiance. “Michael Schmidt!”
He rushes over the furniture toward you, a shriek that turns into a giggle filling the room as closes in on you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest.
“Gotcha,” he teases. He reaches around to grapple for the bag, struggling grab it as you move it out of his reach. Your ass is snug against his hips and his cock takes notice of the contact, twitching in his sweatpants.
“You got a little problem there, Mike?” You ask, voice teasing. You grind against him and he hisses, eyes fluttering closed. His hands still, settling on your hips.
“F-fuck,” he stutters. You take advantage of his moment of weakness, breaking free from his grasp and rushing across the room. “Hey!”
He charges after you again, grabbing you around the waist again and throwing both of your bodies over the back of the couch, the two of you landing in a heap of limbs on the cushions. You hold the bag of candy up over your head and he reaches over you, success so close he can taste it.
Your hips twitch against the knee he’s got planted on the cushions between your legs and he pauses, glancing down in interest. In his distraction, you shift your weight enough to send him toppling to the ground, landing with a thump and a groan on his back.
He looks up at you, sees the little smirk on your lips, the mischievous glint in your eye, and he knows he’s in trouble. You grind yourself against him and his eyes roll back at the sensation, the friction of your body against his familiar and consuming in the best way.
“What’s the matter, Mike?” You ask, voice teasing. “Thought you wanted my candy?”
“Mm, candy can wait,” he manages to murmur, lifting his hands to slide his palms along your thighs. “I could use some sugar, though.”
You laugh, head thrown back and shoulders shaking. “That was so bad!”
“Made you laugh, though,” he counters. You smile at him, planting your hands on his chest to steady yourself as you lean close, lips ghosting over his.
He kisses you, slow at first, lips moving in a familiar dance. He swipes his tongue against yours, relishing in the heat and taste of you. You wriggle in his lap like you can’t help yourself, can’t sit still, little sighs escaping you as he kisses you senseless. You feel so good on top of him, surrounding him, grounding him to a present where he doesn’t have to worry about work and bills and money and whether he’s doing well enough for Abby.
You break away from him with a slick pop, lips glistening with spit. You move over him again, this time with intent. You drag your clothed pussy over his hard cock, slow and steady, back and forth.
“Mmm, w-why don’t we take this to the — fuck — bedroom?” Mike asks, trying to hold you still. His fingers dig into your hips but that only seems to spur you on. “Come on, lemme make you feel good.”
“Feel plenty good just like this,” you murmur. Mike bites his lip, squeezes his eyes shut, thinks about anything but the friction of your pussy against his cock but all his mind goes to is images of you splayed out in bed, leaking cum and glistening with sweat. He whines, hips bucking up against you.
“Please, f-fuck,” he bites out. “If you d-don’t stop I’m gonna—“
“Gonna what, Mike? Cum in your pants for me?”
Mike groans, long and loud, that knot in his stomach going taut. He can feel himself leaking in his boxers, an embarrassingly sticky mess that you’ve made of him without even touching him.
“Come on,” you encourage, sliding a hand from his chest up to the base of his throat. “Good boys cum when they’re told, baby.”
The slight pressure on his neck, the rocking of your hips, the dark look in your eyes, it’s all too much, too soon, too good. Mike’s hips stutter, warmth flooding him as he cums and cums and cums, cock twitching against you as you slow your movements.
You stop, sitting still on top of him. He’s panting, aching fingers flexing on your thighs as you run a hand through his hair before kissing him, soft pecks of your lips over his face that have him smiling like a dope.
“If this is what I get if I eat your candy then I hope you know it’ll never be safe,” he teases. You smack his chest, standing and grabbing the discarded bag from the floor.
“If you touch my gummy bears, you better get real acquainted with your hand,” you reply.
“Might be worth it for gummy bears.”
A handful of the gummy bears pelt his face and you laugh as he pops one in his mouth. You finish off the bag together before Mike returns the favor.
Over and over and over.
All masterlists
#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt x fem!reader smut#mike schmidt x female reader#mike schmidt fic#mike schmidt fanfic#mike schmidt fnaf#josh hutcherson character
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
first time for everything
Drug dealer! Mike Schmidt x fem!reader wc: 4.2k
read part 2 here!
Summary: You’re a good girl. You’ve never been arrested, you don't drink alcohol, and you certainly don't smoke weed. So why were you standing on Mike Schmidt’s doorstep about to buy the very thing you swore you wouldn’t?
Warnings: 18+ content, sorta implied age gap (reader is in college, mike is like the age he was in the movie so like 28-30ish?), cannabis use, shotgunning, dirty messy sex, praise, degradation, spit, grinding, fingering (f rec), handjob, unprotected sex
Authors note: guys i am SO HAPPY with how this fic turned out, and I really hope u guys like it too!! this fic ended up being my longest so far LOL, i got carried away but i LOVED writing the dialogue in this one
You’re a good girl.
You’ve never been arrested, you don't drink alcohol, and you certainly don't smoke weed.
So why were you standing on Mike Schmidt’s doorstep about to buy the very thing you swore you wouldn’t?
—-------------------
“Y/n, it’s seriously no big deal, okay? My dealer’s name is Mike, he’s cool! Just hand him the money and he’ll give you the weed. Simple.” Your friend Sara says as she throws on her work uniform. You furrow your eyebrows at her words, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Sara, I’m not fucking buying weed for you.” You say incredulously, leaning against a wall in your dorm room. Once Sara’s shirt is pulled over her head, she gives you an insulted look.
“It’s not just for me, it's for us! You need to live a little more, Y/n. You haven’t even been to a party on campus yet and it's our third year.” Sara says, emphasising her words with her hands. She brushes her hair, throwing it up into a quick ponytail to make a flat foundation for her ‘Burger King’ cap to lay on top of.
“Well, that’s because I’m studying. I have a job too!” You say with a roll of your eyes. Of course it’s easy for Sara to judge, she’s always been very extroverted. Sara’s the type of girl who’s well loved by everyone on campus, and goes to a party almost every weekend. You can’t blame her. If you were as outgoing and charismatic as she is, you’d follow in her footsteps. However, you’re not, and making friends and being invited to parties hasn’t been an easy feat for you.
You and Sara have been roommates since your first year, and although you haven’t always seen eye to eye, you love her. She’s truly one of your only friends on campus, and even though you know it's pathetic, you think you’d be completely friendless if it weren’t for her. She’s the reason you’ve met most of your friends over your time at college, and although you get annoyed at her, you’re thankful for the times she's pushed you out of your shell enough to have some sort of social life. That being said, buying weed for her is where you draw the line. At least, you think it is.
“I study and work too, but I'm not a total hermit.” Sara exclaims. You scoff and cross the room to sit on your bed. You give Sara a defeated look and she lets out a soft laugh, joining you on the bed.
“Okay, I'll take that back. I don’t think you’re a hermit.” Sara says with a soft smile. She places a caring hand on your back.
“I just think you need to get out a little more, you know? Make some memories, fuck a hot guy, get shit-faced, whatever!” She continues with a laugh. You laugh along with her, and you know she's right. You are a hermit, and it wouldn’t kill you to break out of your shell a little. Even if that means buying weed for your very persistent friend.
“So, why do you need me to buy you weed?” You inquire.
“Because, I’m going to work. Duh.” Sara says, motioning to her ‘Burger King’ uniform. “And I promised my dealer I’d pick my stuff up today. Apparently afternoons are better for him now because he got some weird job working nights.” She continues and you bite the inside of your cheek. Sara notices your apprehension and she grabs your hand.
“Listen, don’t think of it as buying weed. Just…think of it as doing a favour for your friend.” She says softly, ducking her head to meet your gaze that is currently fixed on the floor. It’s just weed, you think. Not cocaine, or something like that.
“And your um, dealer? He’s nice?” You ask, wiping your palms on your jean clad thighs.
“Yeah, I told you. He’s cool. Dealing is, like, a side thing for him. To make enough money to support his little sister.” Sara says, getting off of the bed to collect her things. She swings her backpack over her shoulder and starts towards the exit of your dorm.
You’re not totally convinced, and you’re also not sure how buying weed for Sara will make you less of a “hermit,” but with a long, dramatic, sigh you nod your head.
“What’s his address?”
—-----------------------------------
The gust of the cold December wind that hits your face when you exit the city bus makes you recoil into your hood, and with an annoyed huff you set the hair that stuck to your lipgloss from the breeze back into place.
Mike Schmidt’s place wasn’t far, only a 10 minute bus ride away. However, that was plenty enough time for you to almost completely think yourself out of going. You walk to the address that Sara texted you, the sound of snow crunching under your feet somewhat interrupting your racing thoughts. “Just hand him the money, and he’ll give you the weed.” Sara’s voice replays in your head, and the butterflies in your stomach aren’t sure if her voice is comforting or not.
Mike Schmidt’s house wasn’t one to gawk at, at least from the outside. You start the trek from the end of the driveway to his front door and you wonder how many times Sara has done this before.
You reach the front door and your cold, dry knuckles rap on it. The cold air makes knocking on the wood hurt more than usual, and you rub your knuckles softly. You hear heavy footsteps making their way from the back of the house to the door, and you let out a big breath. The door opens and you scan the man in front of you. He’s…not what you had expected him to look like. In your naive mind, you had pictured a big, burly man, covered head to toe in tattoos. But, this man looked like he had just woken up, his eyes still adjusting to the light outside. His curly brown hair was slightly dishevelled and he laced a hand through it, attempting to make it look more presentable.
“Can I help you?” His voice comes out slightly gruff, and he clears it softly.
“Are you the…the drug guy?” You ask in a low whisper, like the title ‘drug guy’ is akin to the name ‘Voldemort’ in ‘Harry Potter.’
“Depends on who you’re asking.” Mike says, leaning against his front door. He gives you a once over with a little smirk and you cross your arms over your chest.
“I’m asking you.” You say, and it comes out a little harsh, your teeth chattering from the cold.
“Do you want me to be?” Mike says, and you narrow your eyes at him. His smirk widens and you bite the inside of your cheek, he’s enjoying this. Sara said this would be easy.
“I’m here for Sara.” You say, and Mike nods his head, a soft hum tumbling out of his closed lips.
“Oh, so you’re her druggie friend?” Mike says with a little mischievous smile, although his teasing is lost on you and your jaw drops open in shock.
“What? I, wha-, no!” You stammer and Mike lets out a laugh that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.
“I’m joking. Come in, you’re freezing.” He says, noting the way you’re shivering on his front door step. He pushes himself off the door frame and motions for you to follow him inside. You hesitantly follow him inside, but your frosty fingers thank you for the new found warmth of his house.
“Do you want something to drink?” Mike asks, leading you towards the kitchen, you following behind him. You shake your head no, even though he can’t see you.
“I won’t be staying long.” You say bluntly, and even though you can’t see Mike’s face, you swear you can picture the little smile that forms on it with your words. You sit down at the dining table, watching as Mike reaches into the fridge, grabbing a can of soda. The dining table is covered with unopened envelopes and you try your best not to snoop while Mike is in the kitchen. You look up as Mike exits the kitchen with an extra soda in hand, placing it in front of you.
“Just in case you change your mind.” He says and a small “thank you” leaves your lips.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” Mike continues, and you slowly nod your head, watching as he makes his way down the hallway and towards the back of the house. You half pay attention to the turned on television in the living room from your spot at the dining table, partly watching some sitcom that’s been left on while you wait for Mike to return. The house smells like weed and spicy cologne and your leg bounces up and down rapidly as you listen to the sounds of Mike’s footsteps coming back.
“Here.” He says simply, tossing the baggy of weed onto the dining table in front of you. You look down at it, and you crinkle your eyebrows in confusion.
“This is it?” You ask, your eyebrows raised as you hold the baggy between your pointer and middle finger. Mike looks at you with his arms crossed over his chest and that stupid smirk that seems to be permanently painted on his face.
“This is an eighth.” He answers, like you’re supposed to know what that means.
“It doesn’t look like much.” You mumble, reaching into your pocket to fish out the $40 that Sara gave you.
“Well, you can always come back if you’d like more.” Mike says in a sickly sweet tone, and now you know he’s teasing you. You roll your eyes and you get up from your chair, holding the dollar bills in your hand.
“Is $40 enough?” You question, and Mike nods his head. He holds his hand out and you place the money in his palm. You turn to leave and you hear Mike’s voice behind you.
“Enjoy.” He says, and you can’t help yourself from turning back around.
“And just for the record, I’ve never smoked weed. So-, so don’t think this is for me. Cause’ it isn’t.” You say, and you wonder why you feel the need to explain yourself to this man that you met only fifteen minutes ago. Your eyes squint at the man as he lets out a laugh at your words.
“Trust me, I know.” He says, and you watch as he takes a sip of his soda, never breaking eye contact with you.
“How? I’m literally buying weed from you.” You say, your tone somewhat annoyed. Does everyone think you’re a buzzkill? A hermit? Is it written permanently on your forehead in big, bold, marker that you’re a ‘drag’ for everyone to see?
“I can just tell. You don’t seem like the type.” Mike says with a sort of shrug. You stand there with what can only be described as a defeated look on your face as Mike makes his way over to the living room. He sits on the couch, changing the channel to some sports game. It’s silent for a moment, save for the sound coming from the tv, and you stand in the front corridor motionless as you have a mental battle over what you decide to say next.
“...Can you show me?”
You watch as Mike turns his head, looking back at you from the couch.
“You want to get high?” He asks, and he sounds genuinely surprised. You walk over to the couch, moving to stand in front of Mike. He looks up at you with a quizzical look on his face, his eyes dancing around from your lips, to your eyes and nose. You nod your head and you watch as he swallows slowly, drumming his fingers on his knee.
“I want to try.” You say, and you’re not sure where this new found confidence has come from, but you’re not going to back down now. Maybe when you get back to your dorm and smoke with Sara, you can surprise her by showing her it isn’t your first time getting high.
“Alright.” Mike says, putting both of his hands on his knees and pushing himself off of the couch. You watch him walk over to a console table in the living room, pulling out a little baggy of pre-rolled joints. He grabs a joint and a lighter and walks back over to the couch, patting the spot beside him, motioning for you to sit.
“Have you ever smoked at all before? Like, a cigarette or something?” Mike asks softly and you shake your head. You were never really interested in smoking or getting high, even when your friends had started to do those things. You’re not really sure where that interest is coming from now, although you feel a strange need to change Mike’s impression of you. To be the opposite of what he expects. To impress him.
“Okay so, the first few hits might burn a little. And you’re probably going to cough so it’s a good thing I got you that soda.” He says, walking over to the dining table to grab the soda that you left unopened, and handing it to you as he sits back down on the couch. You watch as Mike fiddles with the joint between his fingers and you look up at him.
“Is there any way to make it burn less?” You ask genuinely, and Mike smiles at you, relaxing back on the couch and slightly spreading his legs.
“I mean, there is. But I’m not sure if you’d want to try it.” Mike says, resting his head against the back of the couch and looking over at you. You look over at the joint resting between Mike fingers and back to Mike.
“Let’s do it.” You say with almost no hesitation.
“Alright.” Mike says nonchalantly. “It’s called shotgunning. I’m going to take a hit, and then blow the smoke into your mouth. So you have to be ready for me, okay?” He continues, putting the joint between his lips and lighting it. You watch as he inhales the smoke and then blows it back out, the smoke exiting his body through his mouth and nose. He licks his lips and looks back over to you for confirmation. “Okay?”
“Okay.” You say with a nervous laugh that you try to play off. Mike takes another hit, and you watch as his chest rises with the smoke entering his mouth and lungs. All of a sudden, he’s grabbing your jaw with his hand and bringing you towards him. He opens your mouth with his thumb tugging at your lower lip and chin, and he’s blowing the smoke into your mouth. He’s so close, and this feels so intimate in a way that you try not to think about.
“Told you to be ready for me.” He mumbles as he pulls away from you, his thumb and forefinger still resting on your chin. You inhale the smoke, coughing a little but not nearly as bad as if you have taken a direct hit from the joint. The weed doesn’t taste great, and you crack open your soda to wash the taste and your semi dry throat down.
“Well, you could’ve given me, like, a countdown or something.” You mutter and Mike gives a genuine laugh at that. He shakes his head at you, and you’re not sure if it’s the weed already starting to hit but you but you stare a little too long at the way his lips turn into that charming smile.
“I can’t give you a countdown if I have smoke in my mouth, smartass.” You roll your eyes at his words but you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. You shuffle a little closer to Mike, your knee hitting his.
“Well, whatever. Can we go again?” You ask, looking up at him. He nods with a hum, putting the joint to his lips and inhaling. You’re ready this time, lips parted as you watch the way his eyes flutter as the smoke fills his mouth. He turns to you, once again grabbing your jaw, and blowing the smoke into your mouth. His lips brush your own and before you can stop it, you let out a soft moan. Mike pulls away from you slightly, looking at you with a lazy smirk. He moves his hand from your jaw to your cheek, rubbing slow circles into the skin with his thumb.
“Someone’s enjoying this, aren’t they?” Mike says, his tone sweet but you know that he’s mocking you. His eyes bore into yours and you can’t find it in yourself to look at him, your eyes fixating on your lap.
“Look at me.” He says, and you do.
“Do you want to try one more time?” He asks, and you nod. Like the last two times, he takes a hit, bringing his mouth close to yours once the smoke invades his mouth. However, as he’s blowing the smoke into your mouth, he only seems to get closer with every passing second. His lips brush against yours hesitantly but you respond by leaning closer into him. The gap is closed and his lips are soft, and the room is spinning. You know the weed is probably a contributing factor but, god, this feels so good.
Mike cups your face in his hands, cradling you like a piece of fine china. He bites your bottom lip, causing you to part your lips so he can slip his tongue inside your mouth. The kiss is needy and wet, but you don’t care. The only thing you can think about is how good his tongue feels caressing your own, and how the hand that was once on your jaw, is slowly trailing up your thigh.
Mike pulls you onto his lap, pressing you down onto him and you let out a gentle whine. He breaks the kiss to look at you and your eyes divert to the place where both your laps are connected.
“Don’t get shy on me, baby. C’mon look at me.” Mike says. You look up at him, starry eyed, and his gentle eyes are already on you. His hair is messy, his lips are swollen, and he definitely looks high.
“There you go.” He says, praising you. “This okay?”
“Yes. I want more.” You whimper, your hips softly grinding down on Mike. The weed is heightening all your senses, and your pussy is throbbing. You can’t think of anything else right now except reliving the ache between your thighs, and Mike looks more than happy to do that for you. He bucks his hips up as you grind on him, and you can feel his erection through his sweatpants. His hands have a strong hold on your hips, pulling you down onto him.
“Mike, fuck.” You choke out. You two are grinding on each other like a pair of horny teenagers, but neither of you care. You two kiss each other messily, and when you pull away, a string of spit connects your lips.
“Take off your jeans.” He simply says, and you couldn’t be happier to oblige. You wriggle off his lap, standing in front of Mike to take your jeans off. You can feel his heavy-lidded gaze on you with every one of your movements, and as soon as your jeans are off, he’s pulling you back onto his lap.
His calloused hands are everywhere. On your hips, your ass, your inner thighs. He presses sweet kisses on your neck, sucking and licking on the places you’re the most responsive to. Your hands are in his hair, pulling and tugging at it, making him groan.
“Can I touch you?” Mike asks, and you let out a quick “please.”
One of his hands trails up your inner thigh, reaching the wet spot on your panties.
“Christ, you’re soaked.” He says, and you let out a shaky breath as he starts to rub you over your panties. You buck your hips into his fingers, silently begging for more. He pulls your underwear to the side, running his middle and ring finger up your wet cunt. His fingers find your clit immediately, rubbing lazy circles. You reach down to palm Mike's bulge through his sweatpants and in response, he sinks two fingers inside of you.
“Fuck, you’re taking it so well.” He moans, pumping his fingers in and out of you. You clench around him, and the television in the background is now being drowned out by the sound of your pussy squelching around Mike’s thick fingers. The palm of his hand hits your swollen clit perfectly every time he moves his fingers in you, and you rest your head on Mike’s shoulder.
“You know, you act all innocent, but you’re not really a good girl, are you?” Mike grunts in your ear. He adds a third finger and your legs clench around his hand from the stimulation. Your hand has now ventured inside his sweats and boxers, and you pull his dick out from the confines of his clothes. His cock is so hard, with pre cum steadily leaking from the tip. You spit in your hand and then bring it back to his dick, stroking him from the base to the tip. You massage his tip with your thumb and Mike lets out a whine.
“Y-you know what I think? I think you’re a- fuck, I think you’re a slut whose finally getting the attention she needs.” Mike grits out, and with his fingers curling in and out of you reaching a spot your own fingers have never been able to reach, you think you’d agree to anything he says.
“Mike, I think I’m gonna-” You start to say, your legs shaking from your oncoming orgasm. But as soon as the words leave your lips, Mike removes his fingers from you.
“I wanna feel you cum around me, okay? Can you do that?” Mike says softly, and you eagerly agree. With your panties pulled to the side, Mike teases you with his dick, rubbing it up and down your pussy. He catches it on your clit every so often, making you jolt. Mike’s cock is glistening with a mix of your wetness and his own, and you decided to take matters into your own hands, grabbing Mike’s dick and guiding it into your pussy. You both moan out simultaneously, and the feeling of being full again makes you throw your head back in ecstasy.
Mike lifts you up, so the tip of his cock is barely in you, before slamming you back down onto him. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, and you watch as the muscles in Mike’s arms flex everytime he lifts you up and slams you back down. His cock is reaching so deep, and being high only makes it feel that much better.
“Fuck, your pussy is fucking perfect.” Mike whines, and he drops his head, letting some of his spit dribble down to where the two of you are connected. Mike brings his hand down to your puffy clit, rubbing fast circles. You let out a sob, lacing your hands through Mike’s hair and pulling him towards you to kiss him. Your moans are muffled into the kiss, and Mike slaps your ass, making you cry out.
“C’mon, baby. You wanna be a good girl? Then cum for me.” Mike says, rubbing your clit faster and fucking up into you harder. Your cunt spasms around Mike as you cum, your legs shaking and for a second you swear you can’t feel anything except for the sheer euphoria making it’s way through your body. You drop your head on Mike’s chest as he cums inside you, and his grip on your hips is so tight it would hurt if you weren’t so fucked out right now.
Mike’s soft voice is what coaxes you out of your bliss, and with his fingers running through your hair you think you could fall asleep right here on his lap with him inside of you.
“Hey, you’re okay. You were so good, baby, but I need to get you cleaned up.” Mike says sweetly in your ear, and you slowly nod your head. You let Mike take you off of his lap and place you onto the couch, his release running down your legs. You watch as Mike tucks himself back into his pants and walks down the hallway towards the bathroom. You suddenly hear your cell phone ringing, and you reach down from the couch to fish it out of the pocket of your jeans on the floor.
“Hello?” You say in your dazed state.
“Y/n? Did you get the weed? You were supposed to be back like an hour ago?” You hear Sara say on the other line, her tone laced with worry.
“Um, yeah. I got the weed.” You say, deciding that for now, you should probably keep it a secret from your best friend that you fucked her dealer.
taglist: @slutf0rmilfs, @angie-likes-to-art
#josh hutcherson#mike schmidt#josh hutcherson smut#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt x reader#fnafmovie#smut#fnaf
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
don't wanna leave this play date
pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader
summary: you and mike find a way to make a boring shift at freddy's a little more interesting
warnings: 18+ MDNI, coworker!reader, smut, pwp, overstimulation, edging, blowjob, extremely rough oral, throatpie, fwb
word count: 1.9k
(based on these two requests, tysm for sending them in!)
"Thank you. God, thank you so fucking much."
You can't respond to him with your mouth as full as it is, but he picks up the acknowledgment in your next extra-hard suck. He probably wouldn't have heard you anyway, not with how loud he's gotten over the last half hour.
Should you both be working right now? Yes. Could something go terribly wrong because you're too busy blowing your coworker to watch the security monitors? Oh, absolutely.
But when his curly mop of hair appeared at the edge of the doorway midway through your shift, you knew you'd end up doing whatever he asked you to. It might just be your fatal flaw—you can never say no to Mike Schmidt.
He buries his fingers in your hair, tensing but not tugging, as you steadily work him the way you know he likes. He's surprisingly gentle for someone so eager to get his cock in your mouth every night, but you figure there's not much else to do during a midnight to 6 a.m. security gig at a closed-down pizzeria no one gives a shit about anymore.
Plus, you like doing it. You like him. It's cute how unashamed and unapologetic he is about how badly he wants you, and he makes you feel so good, you've never even thought about turning him down.
Even on nights when he just needs a quick release to ease the boredom or relax him enough to squeeze in a nap, just the taste and weight of him on your tongue has you soaking right through your panties. And he always makes it up to you.
But you're bored tonight, too. With three hours left to go, you'd been sitting in your shitty folding chair wondering how the hell you were going to stay awake and pass the time when Mike offered you an enticing solution. Except, you're still feeling antsy, and you don't want this to be over as fast as it usually is. Tonight, you want to play a little longer.
You pull off of him with a lewd pop and jerk him off languidly, loosening your grip to stave off his quickly approaching orgasm.
"That feel good?" you ask breathily, inhaling a lungful of air after letting him rut into the inside of your cheek for the past ten minutes. His fingers twitch against your scalp as he nods.
"S'good, feels so good," he slurs, his head tipped back as he bucks off the chair and into your fist.
"You want more?" You start to twist your wrist whenever you get close to the tip, and you can see and feel the shudder that wracks through him.
"Yes, god, yes. Please," he pleads, just short of begging.
"More what?" you goad experimentally. It wasn't your intention to make him beg when he walked into your office asking for help, but now you don't want him to stop.
"Y-your mouth," his head lolls forward, and he bites his lip hard at the sight of you licking away the precum streaming from his tip.
"Deeper, can I—," he tries to ask, but you shift to tease the underside of his head, and he chokes out a groan. "Wanna fuck your throat so bad."
"Are you gonna cum if I let you?"
"Fuck, probably," he admits reluctantly.
"Then, pick something else," you give him a teasing smile, a little charmed by his honesty.
Continuing to stroke him, you duck down to press a wet kiss to the base of his cock, then surprise him by sucking one of his balls into your mouth.
"Jesus, fuck," he gasps, leaking more precum that dribbles onto your cheek as you alternate between harder suction and softer swipes of your tongue.
He tastes salty and heady, and you were right. You're wet as fuck and so tempted to shove your other hand down your pants to toy with your clit, but you know he'll do that later. And you're not even close to being done with him yet.
Your grip tightens as you pick up your pace and focus closer to the head, maintaining eye contact that seems like it's setting him off just as much as your mouth or hand. His whole body vibrates with those telltale whimpers, and he finally starts to tug at your hair.
"M'gonna cum. Shit, keep going, I'm gonna cum," he grits out, his chest heaving.
His eyebrows pinch and his lips part, and he looks like he's seconds away from blowing his load all over your face—but then you release him again. You slide your hand under his shirt to stroke his heated skin comfortingly as he squeezes his eyes shut, panting like he just ran a marathon.
"Shit...shit," he keens, and you can feel his abs tensing and relaxing under your palm. His cock jerks pathetically next to your face, and you grip the base to make sure he doesn't accidentally topple over the edge.
"Shit," he whines again frustratedly, half-heartedly trying to pry your fingers off him. "Why?"
You rest your head against his thigh and smile, watching him pout down at you. He really is so cute when he gets fussy like this.
"You really wanna cum that fast? What happened to wanting to fuck my throat?" you tease him, beginning to jerk him off again. He sighs in relief, and his hips jut forward to meet your hand on every downstroke.
"You already said no," he replies dejectedly.
"I said not yet," you correct. "If you give me one more, I'll let you do whatever you want."
He eyes you curiously like he thinks you're baiting him, and you guess in a way you are. By now, he knows you've been edging him on purpose, but he has nothing to lose and everything to gain if he accepts your deal. He knows you'll make him feel good no matter what.
"You can choke me," you continue, slurping messily around the tip. "You can be as rough as you want," you trail your lips down his spit-slick length to the base and lick a wide stripe back up, "and you can cum in my mouth, and I promise I'll swallow all of it."
He's nodding frantically before you can even finish, and his eagerness reminds you of a golden retriever.
"You're gonna be good?" you confirm.
"I'll be good, I'll be so good," he blurts out, his urgency slurring his words again.
"I know you will. Just one more time, I know you can handle it," you encourage him.
Then, you swallow him down without warning. He lets out something guttural and animalistic, both hands tensing to hold you in place, and you let him.
You never planned on making this easy, but you meant what you said. He can handle this. He can handle the tightness of your throat constricting around him, contracting intermittently to mimic how your pussy feels fluttering around him.
Or, at least, you hope he can. You feel his balls draw up dangerously under your chin, and when you peer up through your watery lashes, his eyes are starting to cross. That's not good.
Slowly but steadily, he nudges the back of your throat harder and harder until tears and drool are streaming down your cheeks and chin. He's mumbling incoherent strings of praise and curse words between drawn-out whines, but you can barely hear him over the wet sounds of your own gagging.
"Fuck, that's...good, that's so fucking good," he pants raggedly, picking up his brutal pace. It's like he's lost all control of his body, and all he can do is chase the high you've been denying him all night.
You gurgle around him, grasping his thighs to ground yourself against the force of his thrusts, and briefly contemplate trying to stop him. But it's too late and he's already too close. His face screws up, and then you know it's coming.
"I'm sorry—I'm...fuck, I'm s-sorry, I'm so sorry. I can't—," he whimpers, fucking into his fist, "—m'gonna cum, I'm so close."
Moaning around him in response, you dig your nails into his skin, hoping the unexpected pain distracts him enough to keep him from cumming, but that only makes it worse. So, you let him.
The subtle vibration combined with the sharp bite of your nails sends him reeling. His expression goes completely lax, and then—
"I'm cumming...oh my god—," he all but sobs, burying himself as deep as you can take him.
You struggle to breathe through your nose as he empties down your throat, swallowing as much as you can, but you've been edging him for too long.
Viscous fluid leaks out of the corners of your mouth and down his cock, adding to the wet mess in his lap, and your harsh grasp on his thighs only seems to prolong his orgasm. After what feels like a lifetime, his whimpers taper into soft pants and he starts to rub soothing patterns into your scalp, an apology for his rough treatment.
You blearily meet his eyes, and they're glassy and unfocused, watching you reverently like he can't believe you just let him do something he's only ever seen in porn. And that you actually liked it. Shakily, he reaches out to thumb away the release dribbling down your chin, and you pull off of him briefly to suck it off his finger before returning to his cock.
That's why you do this night after night—that look right there. It's the awe and hunger that linger even after he's already thoroughly blissed out and softening in your grasp.
Except tonight, he's not. Mike is somehow still hard as a rock and thrusting weakly into your mouth, trembling like a leaf now that his aftershocks have subsided and the sensitivity is setting in.
Tentatively, you grip him at the base and swirl your tongue around the tip to gauge his reaction, and when he doesn't push you away, you take him further into your mouth. But on your next hard suck, his lips part and a violent shudder wracks his entire body, so you hesitate and pull off.
"Too much?" you wince, slowly uncurling your fingers from around his cock, but he shakes his head furiously.
"N-no, feels...so much," he says, dazed, his voice scarcely above a whisper. "Feels good. Can you keep going? Please."
His face is screwed up, as tense as the rest of him as he struggles with conflicting feelings of intense pleasure and pain, but he's not fighting it. He's actually enjoying it.
He flinches as you resume your movements, toying under the ridge with the tip of your thumb, and begins to squirm the longer you continue to play with him. A quick glance at the clock tells you there's still an hour and a half left of your shift—that's plenty of time.
In the four nights you've worked here, the security monitors haven't shown a single sign of activity and you doubt they're going to start now. Your gaze drops from his pained, yet hopeful expression to his twitching cock, and you make a decision.
You'll go as long as he wants. After all, you can never say no to Mike Schmidt.
"Mhm, whatever you want," you hum, then sink back onto him. He sighs gratefully, shivering at the sensation and your words, and verbalizes his gratitude repeatedly like a prayer.
"Thank you, thank you."
thanks for reading!
(dividers by @saradika-graphics)
#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt imagine#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt#fnaf imagine#fnaf smut#fnaf movie#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#josh hutcherson x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
"Make Me."
Mike Schmidt x fem!reader
summary: you hate your coworker. he's rude, cocky and doesn't do his job. but, god, is he hot.
warnings: 18+ content, minors dni, afab reader, swearing, pet names, finger sucking, slight choking, oral f!receiving, size kink if you squint, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it guys)
authors note: Mike is kind of an asshole in this but it's okay we love him anyway, he's just misunderstood. they're just both having a bad time and taking it out on each other. I want him.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
You wandered though the empty pizzeria, flashlight in hand. The air was heavy on your shoulders, decades of dust made your nose itch. You preferred patrolling Freddy's to sitting in the security office. There was one main reason for that.
Mike.
Your coworker Mike made your blood boil. He possessed this indescribable quality that made him insufferable to be around. It seemed every conversation you engaged in ended in an argument. Mike would barely talk to you or acknowledge you, preferring to keep his headphones secured to his head. He wasn't the best at his job either. Not long ago he had forgotten to properly lock the pizzeria, leading to a group of intruders trashing the place. This job was difficult enough as it was without having someone else there to make it even worse. What made you even angrier was how hot he was. His curly brown hair, strong arms and broad shoulder made you drool. You wouldn't admit it but your mind tended to wander if you looked at him too much.
You were plunged into sudden darkness as the power shut off. Sometimes it would go black for a moment but then the colourful neon lights would flicker back on. You stopped in your tracks, waiting for a minute. After no sign of the power coming back, you clicked on your flashlight and stormed over the the security office.
Maybe Mike was asleep and didn't notice the power going off. It wouldn't be the first time. But no, he was slouched over in the office chair, holding his flashlight up the illuminate the book he was reading with headphones adorning his head. Your night had been shitty enough already and Mike's shenanigans were only making it worse.
You shook your head in annoyance, flipping the switch to the main breaker and re-illuminating the pizzeria. Surprised by the sudden light, Mike looked around the room, giving you a small nod before returning back to his book. You stared at him in disbelief.
You pulled off his headphones, chucking them into his lap. "Are you serious right now? Did you just not fucking notice the power go off?" you questioned angrily. "Or do you just not care?"
"Get off my back. I'm having a bad night." Mike went to put his headphones back on but you grabbed his wrist.
"So am I. You sit two meters away from the breaker. You really couldn't have turned it on?" You let go of his wrist and rubbing your temples in annoyance.
Mike huffed and stood up, discarded the book and headphones on the chair. "The power was off for five seconds. It's not that big of a deal."
"I don't care. It's your job." Mike rolled his eyes and you frowned, leaning against the desk. "Asshole," you whispered under your breath.
Mike turned to face you, clearly upset by your remark. He stood inches away from you and pinned his hands either side of you on the desk. "What did you call me?" You shrugged innocently. "Say it again."
Being this close, you could smell his aftershave. Mikes hazel eyes staring into your own. Your heart pounded in your chest, cheeks burning under his intense gaze. Mike moved one of his hands up to your face, his thumb trailing teasingly across your lips, gently parting them. "Why don't you put those pretty lips to use and say it again."
You squeezed your thighs together. To say that took you by surprise would be an understatement. You stared up at Mike with half-lidded eyes. Teasingly, you closed your lips around his thumb, holding onto his wrist as you gently licked it. You saw his restraint beginning to crack. You took his finger out of your mouth, still holding onto his wrist.
You smiled innocently. "Make me."
In a split second his lips were on yours. They were soft and warm, moving against yours with an intensity you had never experienced before. Your hand moved from his wrist to the back of his neck, fingers weaving into the soft curls as you pulled him closer. Mike gently bit your bottom lip and you moaned into his mouth.
He grabbed your hips, hoisting you up onto the desk with ease and spreading your legs to slot himself in between them. Mike kissed along your jawline, trailing down to your neck as his hands reached under your hoodie.
"Don't think I don't see the way you look at me, sweetheart," Mike whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine as you let out a quiet whimper. His hands ventured beneath your bra to massage your tits. You bucked your hips forward, grinding against his cock confined by his jeans. You can feel Mike's lips smirk against your neck. "You want me so bad, don't you baby?"
You nodded pathetically, holding onto his strong shoulders and whining when his lips disconnected from your neck. Mike's hands moved from your chest to unbutton your pants, almost ripping them as he pulled them off, along with your soaked panties, in one clean move.
He knelt down in front of you, two fingers gently coming up to rub your clit. A fire burned in your stomach as his fingers moved slowly, Mike kissing along your inner thighs. Your hand came to rest on his head, holding onto his curls, resisting the urge to shove his face between your legs.
"Look how wet you are for me, sweetheart."
His mouth finally connected with your soaked cunt, tongue darting out to slide between your folds. Your breath shuddered and your hips bucked forward into his mouth. Mike groaned into your pussy, his fingers digging into your thighs, sure to leave finger prints as he ate you out like a starved man.
Your juices dripped down his chin. He sucked on you clit, earning a guttural moan from you. You felt him let out a moan of his own against your cunt. You could feel a knot building up in your stomach, your thighs quivering as he brought you close to orgasm.
Mike pulled away, giving your clit a soft kiss before wiping is face clean with the back of his hand. He stood back up and roughly kissed you and you could taste yourself against his lips.
As your lips collided, your hands reached down to desperately unbuckle his belt, tugging his jeans and boxers down. You stroked his cock, already leaking precum. Mike groaned, thrusting up slightly into your soft hands.
He pulled away from the kiss, watching as you moved the tip of his cock to rub between your sopping folds. Mike's breath was shaky and his hands gripped your hips desperately.
"Want me to put it in, Mikey?" you teased with an innocent smile.
Mike's hand travels up to your throat, squeezing it slightly. "Don't think you're the one in charge here baby girl."
You bit your lip, guiding Mike as he began to slide his cock into you. Your breath hitched at the stretch and Mike's face contorted with pleasure.
He began to fuck you, the monitors on the desk shaking with each thrust. Your head rested against Mike's shoulder, holding onto him for dear life. His cock fit perfectly inside you, hitting the spot that made you see starts. Mike reached his hand between your legs and rubbed your clit.
"Mike!" you cried out. "S'good!"
"You look so pretty fucked dumb by me," Mike puffed out. "You like being stretched out by my big cock, don't ya honey?"
His words made you legs shake, getting closer to climax as his thrusts got rougher, increasing in pace. Mike felt your cunt tighten around him, squeezing him deliciously. He let out little grunts with each thrust, his movements sloppy as he got close to cumming.
The rubbing of your clit sent you over the edge, your back arcing and legs shaking as you came. You cried out Mike's name, head lolling back, overwhelmed with pleasure.
You could see Mike was about to cum and you could feel him throbbing inside you. You leant forward slightly, whispering into his ear, "come inside me, Mikey."
And just like that, he did. He held your hips with bruising force, cumming deep inside you as he whimpered out your name. Mike stayed inside you, panting, sweat dripping from his forehead.
"We should do this more often baby," Mike said with a satisfied smirk.
#fnaf movie#fnaf x reader#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt#mike schmidt imagine#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt fnaf#josh hutcherson x reader#josh hutcherson#fnaf 2023
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
hi:D I don’t know if you take request but I like ur writing style and wanted to request a fic where the reader is having period cramps and Mike helps comfort her
yess my requests are open nonnie! tho when I write them can be questionable fgbgfbfg and thank you so much for requesting this my period is close so this was lovely to write 💜
ㅤㅤㅤ𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐘
ㅤㅤmike schmidt x f!reader
Your breasts ache, your stomach hurts—your body the most uncomfortable place to be. You turn to the side as you bring you knees up to your chest and hug yourself. Another cramp. You squeeze your eyes shut, hissing through gritted teeth. You breathe heavily as you wait for it to pass. Your nostrils flutter. Your face warming up while the pain escalates. It escalates, escalates, and escalates—then it suddenly comes to a halt.
Suddenly you can breathe again.
Taking the opportunity, you fill your lungs with air. You want to cry. Everything fucking sucks. You want to call out to Mike who’s watching TV with Abby in the living room but you feel too weak to form the words. You suppose that’s alright. He’s already exhausted and overwhelmed with everything, it’s better that he doesn’t worry about you too—
“Fuck—”
Your entire body clenches, your arms tightening around you as your nails bite your forearms. Fuck. You need painkillers, the whole bottle of them. The faintest of whimpers fall from your lips. The back of your head is throbbing from how taut your body is. You try to breathe, try to get out of bed, but even the smallest of movements add to the pressure of the cramps.
You’re so lost in the pain you don’t even hear the door opening. You only notice someone’s here when you feel the faint dip of the bed.
Your eyes snap open, your back is still turned. A hand curls around your shoulder and squeezes.
“Are you okay?” you hear Mike ask. “You’ve been here for a while. Abby is making her version of spaghetti.”
“That’s. . .” you exhale from your nose. “That’s great Mike. But I think I’m gonna skip it.”
His hand doesn’t leave your shoulder, “You didn’t answer me. Are you okay?”
You know he won’t leave without some thorough convincing. Knowing this, you turn to your other side to face him. He smiles when your eyes lock and despite the pain, your heart flutters.
Just as you part your lips, about to tell him that you’re fine and he should just help Abby with cooking, another cramp strikes again. A choked-out sound rips from your throat and you immediately pull your knees to your chest again. You know it doesn’t exactly help. But something about the position makes you believe the cramp will subside.
“Hey hey hey,” Mike cups your cheeks, thumbs tracing circles on your skin. “Tell me what’s going on. Let me help, baby.”
“I’m—I’m on my period. I’m cramping.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You relax a bit as the cramp finally softens. “We should have some advil. Do you need anything else?”
God, you want to cry. He’s such a caregiver. You look away, embarrassment warming your stomach. “Maybe. . . maybe some of that leftover cheesecake too?”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll be right back.”
Before you know it he’s back with a fresh red stain on his sweatshirt—courtesy of Abby and her cooking skills you bet. You shuffle back a bit so he can take a proper seat this time, he does and gives you the advil. “You sure you don’t need anything else?” he places the plate of cheesecake on top of the bedside table.
“I’m good,” you answer, popping the pill and taking two huge gulps of water. “Thank you. Can we. . .cuddle a bit?”
Mike smiles and you swear it’s the brightest sight ever, “If I ever say no to that feel free to smack the shit out of me.”
You manage a small laugh despite the discomfort, and Mike scoots closer, wrapping his arms around you. His warmth feels like a soothing balm against the persistent ache in your body. You rest your head on his chest, finding solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
He starts tracing gentle circles on your back, his fingers moving in a comforting pattern. The pain begins to ebb away as you focus on the warmth and love radiating from him. It's amazing how a simple touch can make everything feel a bit more bearable.
“Better?” he asks, his voice a soft murmur.
You nod against his chest, unwilling to let go of the safety his embrace provides. "Much better. Thank you for being here."
"Always," he replies, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. “You just need to say the words and I’ll be there.”
You think you answer him but you can’t tell as sleep slowly begins to take over.
All you feel is him.
#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x f!reader#mike schmidt x fem!reader#mike schmidt fluff#period fic#mike schmidt period fic#fnaf fanfic#josh hutcherson character fanfic#josh hutcherson characters fanfic#ww:drabble
446 notes
·
View notes
Text
Once Upon a Time
Mike Schmidt x babysitter!f!reader
Word Count: 1864
Summary: Like all other imagines go, ever since Mike hired you as Abby’s babysitter, you’ve made their life so much more fun. Today’s fun? Playing fairy tales with Abby. Mike thinks it’s hilarious until he’s suddenly brought into production…
• • •
There was a satisfying ‘click’ when Mike turned the key. With one little shove, the door was open and he could breathe again. Another rough shift at work, but he was so grateful to be home. Where he could relax and just unwind…
And then he heard giggling. And he had the sinking feeling this was not going to be an “unwind” kind of day. What kind of mischief was Abby getting into now? Although, he much preferred hearing her laughter over the silence he used to get. Ever since he hired that new babysitter, Abby’s brightened up a lot. So, despite the drowsy drooping over his shoulders, he smiled as he shut the door behind him.
“Hey, I’m home!” He called out.
“We’re in here!” Your voice replied, making his smile twitch just a bit wider without him meaning to. You were such a saint. After what happened with the last babysitter, he thought he wouldn’t find another half as good, but you surpassed any and all expectation. Once he got the ball rolling better with work, he’d pay you. Soon.
“What on earth…” Mike’s voice trailed off when he saw what was going on in Abby’s room.
Lights were strung about, a great big fort connected to the ceiling and strung down like a canopy. With the use of cardboard, paper, and markers, the fort was surrounded by fake towers and what he assumed was a moat. And under the strung-up blankets were two familiar faces with paper crowns.
“We’re playing fairy tales,” You quickly explained, feeling the urge to take off the crown. You hadn’t felt self-conscious when it was just you and Abby, but when a cute guy looks at you? That’s a whole different thing. The embarrassment only worsened when you saw him stifle a laugh. Crap, what could he be thinking right now?
If only you knew that he thought you both made the cutest sight he'd ever seen.
"If we're going to do Snow White, we need an apple." Abby turned to you, refusing to let Mike ruin your fun together. She was not done playing. In fact, seeing the two of you looking at each other gave her a little idea...
"I'll go get the apple." You stepped over the cardboard towers and paper moat to head to the kitchen, "I'll be in the kitchen."
"Right behind ya," Mike added as he shrugged off his jacket.
You quickly took the crown off and set it down before going to the counter. You rummaged through the bowl of fruit, going past bananas and pears to find what you wanted.
Mike pulled out a Gatorade from the fridge, "Heh, thanks again for this. You have no idea what a difference you've made to Abby."
"Oh it's nothing. She's a lot of fun." You reassured him.
"I promise I'll pay you as soon as my check comes in, this isn't going to be the usual. You know, if, uh, you still want to continue this. I get it if you don't. You're not obligated to keep coming..." He was rambling now. He hadn't gotten like this since high school. Sheesh, what was going on with him? He reached up and adjusted his shirt's collar. It was getting warm in here all of a sudden.
"Mike, stop. You're completely fine. I'm happy to be here. After all, what are neighbors for?"
He shrugged. He'd just gotten so used to you being here, so quick. You fit right in. Looking back on it, the house used to feel so empty. Abby used to go to her room and just draw by herself. Mike would go to bed early or watch a couple shows on TV. Now, there was so much light and laughter brought in. He barely recognized his life anymore. He really hoped this was a sign for better days.
"Ah! Here we are, a classic red apple. I better not keep the princess waiting." You teased and started heading back to Abby's room, with a little skip in your step. But to your surprise, upon entering in, you saw Abby wearing her darkest purple blanket over her head like a cloak.
"I don't remember Snow wearing anything that dark."
"I'm not going to be Snow, you are." Abby told you and hurried to take the apple from you, "I got to be the princess the last two times. It's your turn."
You hadn't realized you were taking turns but okay.
"Where is your crown?" Abby squinted at you and made a face, "Mikeee! (Y/n) needs her crownnn!"
"Where is it?" He hollered from the other room.
"I left it on the counter!" You rose your voice, trying not to laugh. What has your life become? You felt like a Mom or something. And hey, you kind of liked it. Even though this wasn't your blood family or anything, you'd gotten real close with Mike and Abby. You just felt so comfortable with them.
Mike came back and briefly held up the crown, "Alright, where's the princess?"
Your face reddened and you sheepishly held up your hand, "Here."
He nodded and strolled over, briefly standing on his tip-toes to set it dramatically over your head, earning giggles from his sister. But just before he went to leave, Abby grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
"Don't go yet, I want you to watch!"
"Watch?" You echoed and your heart dropped to your stomach. Yeah, you were doing this for the kid, but you felt so shy playing pretend in front of Mike.
"Oh, alright, I'd be happy to watch." To your horror, Mike plopped down into the chair by Abby's desk and folded his arms. A big smile on his face.
Your eye twitched at the cocky little gesture. Oh, he was loving this, wasn't he? You didn't know if that was better or worse. But you tried to put it out of your mind when Abby got into character. She came up in her makeshift cloak,
"The evil witch approaches and knocks on Snow White's door..." Abby narrated before knocking on one of the blankets, pretending there was a thudding sound.
You stepped inside the fort then immediately poked your head out, forcing your gaze on Abby instead of Mike's amused face in the corner, "Hello?"
"Hello, young lady..." Abby ironically croaked, despite being many years younger than you, "I am giving out free apples. Would you like one?"
You heard muffled laughter again. Well, you weren't going to let him get to you. If he was going to pay you someday, you were going to earn every penny. He wanted a performance? Alright, here we go.
"Oh, how lovely! Of course!" You reached for it and held it to your mouth before taking a big bite.
"Muahaha! My plan is all coming together!" Abby rubbed her hands together and burst into a fit of mischievous giggles—that sounded a little too convincing for half a second.
"Oh no! I feel strange!" You held a hand to your head then spun around before making a dramatic 'fall' back onto the floor, bending your knees at the right second so the impact wouldn't be so bad. Besides, there were so many scattered pillows around, it wasn't harsh at all.
"Oh, bravo! Great job." Mike chuckled and clapped before starting to get up from his seat.
"Hey! The story isn't over!" Abby pointed a finger at him, "This part is important! I need your help!"
"Wait, what?"
"Snow White needs a handsome prince to wake her up." Abby explained and took off the cloak. She reached to the side for the crown she had made for herself, and handed it to Mike, "Your turn."
You had been pretending to be asleep but now your eyes were wide open. You started to sit up, "Oh, Abby, that's not necessary--"
Ohh it suddenly wasn’t so funny anymore. Was it, Mike? “Yeah, I'm really not an actor. You guys have fun, I'll just prepare dinner..."
But Abby wasn’t having it. She pointed to you first, “No! You! Lay back down! And you! Prince!”
Mike blinked down at his sister, but…apparently he didn’t have the strength to turn her down. He sighed and put the crown on his head. You honestly couldn’t believe it.
You slowly lowered back to the ground and closed your eyes. Not like you weren’t kind of hoping for a kiss from Mike one of these days, but you couldn’t say this is the way you expected to have your first one.
It certainly wasn’t the way Mike planned it, either. He had expected he’d finally get up the courage to ask you on a date. After he’d gotten around to paying you and proved he was in a better situation. But as soon as Abby found out of his crush on you, she had to push this to go a little quicker. He just had to hope he didn’t die of embarrassment in the process.
Abby took off her cloak and let out a gasp, “Oh no! My friend, Snow White is hurt! Help! Help! Prince Charming, come help!”
Mike sighed and walked over, “What’s wrong?”
“The princess has been poisoned! She needs true love’s kiss to wake her up!” Abby held her hands together and looked up at him with expectation.
“Abby, you really don’t expect me to—“ But the look she gave him told him she was serious. Was this really happening? Why didn’t he have the courage to tell her no?
He got down on his knees and looked over your features. He couldn’t tell but you were just as panicked about this. Your heart was pounding like crazy. What was he going to do? Maybe he’d kiss your forehead or your cheek. Something light just to say he did it. But no. When Mike lowered himself near to you, you were surprised by the touch of his lips. The soft scratch of his stubble. His breath was warm on your skin and made your heart flutter. This wasn’t the way you both had planned it, but it was a beautiful first kiss together.
Of course you both didn’t go crazy, Abby was right there, but it was a lingering kiss. Soft and sweet. Mike was surprisingly gentle. But just before you both could get used to it…
“Yay! The princess is saved!” Abby threw up her hands and giggled.
You both broke apart and nervously chuckled at the same time. You decided to speak first before it got awkward.
“Thank you so much for saving me!”
“Of course.” Mike dutifully bowed his head like a prince would, briefly licking his lips.
“Now the prince carries Snow White off into happily ever after!” Abby beamed.
“Heh, alright. Right this way, princess.” Mike gently scooped you up into his arms and rose to his feet with no issue. Wow, he was strong…
“Off to happily ever after?” You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Off to the spaghetti and meatballs I’m making for dinner.” He replied.
You held a hand to your chest and laughed heartily, “Oh, my hero!”
The end.
#mike schmidt fnaf#mike schmidt fanfiction#mike schmidt#josh hutcherson#fnaf fanfiction#mike schmidt imagine#Mike schmidt one-shot#mike and Abby Schmidt#mike schmidt fluff#Mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt x y/n
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Strange Honey
Billy (Burn 2019) x GN!Reader
Summary: One night at a bar, you meet a very mysterious man with a burn on the side of his face. As the tense and strained person you see him as, you decide to offer him some ease, giving the wannabe cowboy one hell of a ride.
Word Count: 2.4k
Content: 18+ Smut, MDNI, gender neutral reader, Billy the wannabe cowboy, penetration (unspecified genitals for reader), oral (male and reader receiving), swearing, reader being referred to as ‘pretty’ and ‘slut’, unprotected sex, drinking
(A/n: PLEASE PLEASE listen to this song, it’s not only by small, indie band but it’s also just so fitting!!: 60s western cowboy vibe and horniness, it’s an amazing fit—just trust me!! Also I want it to be implied that the Melinda SA scene never happened prior in this fic, otherwise Billy would have some sort of PTSD that would probably not make him ready for anything sexual for a long time :( nevertheless, i hope you enjoy!!)
-
The moment he walked in through those doors, he instantly became a mystery. Someone you have easily became infatuated with by just the mere sight of him.
Sure, his getup was quite tasteless—the denim on denim and subtle cowboy boots that screamed ‘wannabe cowboy’—but that wasn’t what really captivated you, despite the additional charm of his pretty eyes and lips; it was the red, tender burn occupying an area of skin on the right side of his face.
He lets out a gruff sigh of exhaustion as he sat one stool away from you at the bar, incoherently grumbling his order to the bartender. You observe him for a while, before getting his attention by whistling softly at him. When he turned to look at you, it allowed you to see him from a closer distance from before, and your eyes slightly widened at the clearer sight of his burn.
“Holy shit, man. You look like hell,” you scoff, raising your glass of liquor to your lips, taking a short, yet calculated sip. “The fuck happened to you?”
He looked at you with a displeased scowl, probably offended by your reaction. “I don’t wanna fucking talk about it,” he replied bitterly in a low mutter.
Only amused, you chuckle playfully. “Rough night?”
He nods quietly in agreement as the bartender gave him his drink. Bourbon, you assumed. “Alright,” you begin. “So what’s a handsome thing like you doing in a shithole like this?”
You finally saw a smile—or perhaps a smirk—creep onto the corner of his lips. You could tell he was quite flattered by the ‘handsome’ comment. And that smile only reinforced it, proving your point even more—he was incredibly attractive. “To drink,” he answered, finally looking up at you. He was exceptional at keeping eye contact. The way his brown eyes bore into yours enhanced your intrigue for him.
“To forget?” You assume, raising an eyebrow. He nodded a yes, offering an amused and knowing grin. He liked you. “Well… Bourbon’s not gonna do shit for you in this case.”
You call over the bartender. “Another firewater, please, for the gentleman,” you tell, then looking back at the man with an alluring smirk. “On me,” you wink. “I’m Y/n, by the way.”
“Billy.” He let out a pleased chuckle, already fascinated by you. “Sorry, ‘firewater’?” He asked with a curious, blank face.
“It’s just liquor.” You scoff playfully, “And you call yourself a cowboy?”
“I never—”
“C’mon,” you snicker teasingly. “The jacket? The shirt? The jeans? And the fuckin’—fuckin’ cowboy boots?” You scoff as you look at him up and down. Checking him out, almost. “The belt buckle, however, is very impressive.”
The charming, brown-haired man grinned with a self-satisfied huff under his breath. He looked to the bartender as he abruptly gives him the drink you ordered him, then looked back at you, the slight curl of his lips still intact. “So what’s your whole deal then, hm? What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in this very shithole?” He asks, referencing back to your cheeky question.
“I’m, uh… I’m also here to forget,” you pursed your lips then smirked as you answer him. The man shrugs in response and grabs his drink.
“Well, then. To the shitty events that led us to this shitty bar,” he raised his glass and then you raised yours.
“Cheers,” you mutter amusedly, and the two of you take a swig of your drinks.
Billy nearly choked on it as he scowled immediately, looking down at his glass with humorous contempt. “What the fuck is this shit?”
You felt your throat burn acidly, yet also gratifyingly as you gulp down your liquor, giggling at the sight of him. “Firewater,” you replied as you heard him mutter swears of complaints to himself.
“Yeah, no shit,” he retorted scornfully, “It’s strong as fuck.”
You raise an eyebrow, preparing to tease him. “You sure you’re a real cowboy?” You scoff with an endearing grin.
“Seriously? You’re still on about that?” He says in disbelief, yet he enjoyed the conversation nonetheless. “What, do I need a red bandana and a cowboy hat—”
“You definitely need a cowboy hat,” you chuckle. “That’s exactly what you’re missing.”
“So I need the whole getup?” He raises an eyebrow. You nod. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He was so attracted to your smile.
“Okay, so like… even a lasso?”
You laugh. “Of course. You can’t just be all hat and no cattle.”
He snickered under his breath. “I’m guessing I’m gonna need a horse as well?”
You pursed your lips, laughing once more. And he was addicted to it. “Hmm, a horse? Yeah, not so much,” you reply dismissively.
“Oh yeah? Isn’t that, like, standard cowboy criteria?” He huffs, staring into your eyes curiously, which reminded you again of his immaculate eye contact. “Why not?”
You take a confident swig of your firewater, feeling the burning sensation in your throat linger, licking your lips and returning his gaze…
“I know something else you can ride.”
* * *
He pushes you against the wall, hands under your shirt moving up and down your sides frantically as his his lips move roughly with yours. The confined atmosphere of the motel room was extremely hot, and you weren’t sure if it was from all the friction that you and Billy produced or the shitty, cheap air-conditioning. After all, you two were in a rush, drunk from arousal, and desperate for each other’s bodies. And because a dirty bathroom in a shitty bar deemed to be too unsanitary for your taste, you found the nearest motel.
“Hell,” you mutter into Billy’s lips hotly. You felt him grip onto your hips and start to grind on you, using the wall as a leverage as he rolled his hips onto yours. He muttered a curse as the friction of his jeans against yours had satisfyingly aggravated you both. The two of you whined from the grinding until you pushed him off of yourself, shoving him hard against the wall and going down onto your knees.
You begin to unbuckle the belt that you earlier regarded as impressive, due to its authentically cowboy-like quality, then unbuttoned and unzipped his tight, light-wash jeans, dragging it down to his ankles as well as his boxers. His cock sprang out immediately after you pulled down the cloth, and you held in a moan, admiring the sight.
“Fuck, Billy,” you breathe in awe, helping him step out of the clothes that were previously sitting at his ankles. You look up at him once—again, he was graceful at eye contact, and you could easily read his desperation.
You began to smear his precum around his slit, bringing out a small whimper from him. You start to hear him panting once your hand is around his dick, pumping at a slow pace. Then, his eyes rolled up to the back of his head in pleasure, letting out a sigh of arousal as the tempo of your hand increased.
You kept your hand at the base of his cock as you started to leave kitten licks on his sensitive pink tip, Billy eliciting sensual hums until your mouth eagerly welcomes in his head. He lets out a soft groan as your lips are around him, sucking the head as your hand moves up and down to stroke his shaft, your other hand resting on his thigh for support.
He bites back a moan as he choked out your name, and you feel his hands on your head once you move your mouth further down as far as you could. Now, you let both of your hands grip onto his porcelain hips for better control, your head bobbing up and down his girthy cock.
“M-mm, fuck, Y/n, you’re s-so fucking good for me, fuck,” he rasped, gripping onto your hair, letting his fingers tangle in the messy strands. Your cheeks flush as you increase your suction around him, finally hearing him moan, his vocals echoing in the empty motel room. “That’s it… yeah… fuck…” His volume increases once you fondle his balls, caressing him with your palm.
You feel yourself lose control of the entire situation as his hold on your hair tightened, him beginning to thrust his cock into your mouth, practically fucking your throat. Tears begin to well up in your eyes as you look up at him, nearly gagging on his dick.
“G-god,” he mumbled, using both hands on your head to practically use you as if your mouth was his own personal fleshlight. His moans began to increase in volume as you heard pathetic whines of desperation—but you couldn’t say anything, of course; you were the one spurring muffled moans, choking around his cock.
“Shit… Shit—I’m—fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he breathed heavily, increasing his pace until he came, spilling his white, bitter fluid in your mouth, choking on his seed as you struggled to swallow it all—but you did.
Without giving either of you time to catch your breaths, Billy manhandled you, grabbing onto you and throwing you down on the squeaky, cheap mattress that the motel had to offer. He nearly ripped off your pants and your underwear along with it, moving his head between your legs and holding your thighs onto his shoulders. You felt the cold metal of his golden ring on your skin as his hands squeezed your thighs. You moaned out his name as you felt his tongue work on you, sucking and licking at your flesh.
“Ah—f-fuck—Billy!”
Your hips jolted at the sensation of his mouth pleasuring you, your knuckles turning pale as you grip tightly onto the sheets below you. His tongue moved down to prod at your hole, wetting it before his tongue would enter, making you release a prolonged, high-pitched whine. Almost instantly, he replaces it with a finger, pushing the digit in and out steadily, not hesitating to add another, the pace of the thrusts increasing until he finally pulled them out, watching you whimper from the loss of touch.
He quickly removes your shirt, lifting it off from above, and after taking off his jacket and throwing it to the side, you frantically unbuttoned his shirt, getting him out of the sleeves until the two of you were both completely naked.
He held you down once more on your back aggressively, sitting on his knees with his hands on the mattress between your head, a thin, silver necklace dangling above your face that hung from Billy’s neck. Your cheeks were flushed red and you panted as he lined up his body with yours, and finally eased his cock through your entrance. And once he was perfectly in, that was his signal.
He thrusted his hips quickly into yours, shoving his dick inside of you deeper with every snap of his hips, abusing your hole. His loud grunts easily transitioned into whimpers to full-on moans, hearing a couple of ‘fuck’’s and ‘oh god’’s. But you—you were even worse. You were under him, being fucked into the mattress, crying, screaming, and babbling. You were sure that the other guests of this motel could hear you from the thin walls, alongside the noisy bed creaking.
“Love how you’re taking my cock… Just look at you,” he muttered before letting out a high-pitched whimper and continuing his movements. “Feel so fucking good around me.”
His hands move down to your hips, digging his nails into your skin as he pulled you to his dick, thrusting even faster and deeper than before. Your soft whines were rhythmic, synced with each motion that his hips gave. You enjoyed the delicious sensation of him stretching you and your walls, tightening around him flawlessly. His shiny, silver necklace continued to sway above you, swinging with each rapid, harsh thrust.
You abruptly yank onto that thin chain, pulling him down to meet your lips. He moved his soft, wet lips with yours passionately and fervently, your tongue exploring his mouth, dancing with his. His thrusts never faltered as he kissed down to your jaw then to your neck, even nibbling and sucking in areas to give you hickeys.
You breathe heavily as you felt your body being flipped, Billy using his strong hands to move you onto your stomach, the side of your face being pressed onto the pillow. Then he pushed into your hole once again, one hand on your hip and the other on the top of the wooden bed frame, gripping it tight as he began to move. The bed squeaked again, its sounds mirroring the motion that took place on it. You were afraid he was going to fucking break it.
“O-oh! F-fuck! Don’t—Don’t fucking stop!” You cry desperately in between heavy breaths.
You were nearly drooling on the pillow as you moan loudly, Billy pounding you forcefully from behind, on top of you as if you were a fucking horse—he was a cowboy, alright.
“You like that? Hm? You like having my cock inside of you like this? Fucking slut…”
You began to feel his rhythm falter, his body gradually giving out with stuttered hips and abrupt, deep jerks inside you, panting and moaning heavily, his face flushed and sweaty.
“Fuck, baby, I’m close,” he groans, the erotic sound of skin slapping against skin only increasing as his nails begin to dig deeper into the bed frame, fucking into you as if you were a lifeless sex doll, practically using you. But he had respect for you, of course, feeling pleasured entirely by your body and noises.
“M-me too,” you whine, clenching onto the white bedsheets beneath you, feeling a knot in your stomach slowly begin to unravel.
Billy persisted to slam his hips vigorously against your ass, ramming his thick cock inside of you as the two of you moaned desperately, your vocals arousing each other as well.
“I-I’m—I’m gonna cum,” he mutters.
“Fuck—me too—I-I’m—”
“Fuck!” He whines.
And finally, with one last, strong thrust of his hips, he came deeply and heavily inside you, his warm, white fluids painting your walls, spurting selfishly yet generously deep inside of you. A loud, lewd moan escaped his pretty lips as his eyes shut tight, focusing on all the pleasure and release that he just received.
And not even a second later, you followed, crying out his name and cumming around his length, clutching the blankets and feeling full and filled completely with his semen.
Billy collapsed beside you, and the two of you laid there, panting heavily and catching each other’s breaths, all fucked out.
“Well, yee-haw, motherfucker,” you mumble amusedly to yourself, retrieving your pants to grab a cigarette from its pocket.
#billy burn#burn 2019#burn billy x reader#billy burn x you#billy burn x reader#burn x reader#billy burn x gn!reader#gn!reader#josh hutcherson x reader#josh hutcherson x gn!reader#josh hutcherson x you#billy burn smut#josh hutcherson smut#smut#m!reader#f!reader#nb!reader#gender neutral reader#mike schmidt#mike schmidt smut#josh futturman#josh futturman smut#clapton davis#clapton davis smut
224 notes
·
View notes
Text
mike schmidt x fem!reader
contains: oral (f recieving), mike is a munch 🤗.
wc: 581
“Hmmmm,” He hums into your core, sending vibrations into it. He delved his tongue deeper into your hole, swallowing any and all of your juices that dripped into his mouth.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head and then closed when more of your arousal pushed out of your tight hole and onto his taste buds.
You gasped and your fingers tangled into his messy brown locks while the other hand gripped onto the marble counter top.
He had you on top of the counter in his kitchen, simply eating away at your pussy like a starved man. He was eating you out as if this was the first thing he’s tasted in years.
“F-Fuck, Mike..” You whimper, trying your best to stay quiet so that you don’t wake up Abby who was sound asleep in her room.
“Shhh, baby,” He pulls away, bringing his fingers to rub up and down your slit, making your hips buck. “Don’t wanna wake up Abby..”
He looks up at you and maintains eye contact as he leans forward and locks his lips around your pulsing clit, making your hips squirm and your jaw slack, gaping down at the man who was pleasuring you so messily.
You silently curse him for making you feel so good and then expecting you to stay quiet. You wish he had done this at a better time when Abby was at school or something, but who were you to deny the needy man who wanted to eat you out so bad?
“Mike,” You gasp and pant, fingers gripping his hair tighter, making him moan. “I’m so close…”
He just hummed again and buried himself deeper between your thighs, drowning himself in your sweetness. He laps almost pathetically at your cunt, desperate to make you cum on his tongue.
When he sucks harshly on your clit, your back arches and you frantically try to keep yourself quiet by biting your lip. Goosebumps litter your skin, and your hips stutter over and over again.
Finally, the heat boiling inside of you finds some relief by releasing all over his face. Your thighs close around his head and your eyes roll back at the white hot pleasure surging through you as he continues to suck and lick until you calmed down from your orgasm.
You pant and lean your head up to the ceiling; you could feel him stand up between your legs and then wrap them around him, taking hold of your ass and picking you up. You wrap your arms around his neck and allow him to bring you two to his bedroom.
He brings you over to the bed and gently places you onto it. He closes his door and locks it before he lays down next to you, eager for something.
“I want you to ride me.” He says, and you bite your lip excitedly, going to unbuckle his belt before he grabbed your wrists.
“That’s not what I meant.” He tells you, and you take a second before realizing what he was asking you.
“But, what if you can’t breathe?” You ask, shifting to straddle his waist.
He rolls his eyes and pulls your thighs to his face, making it so that your bare pussy is hovering over his face. When you keep yourself there, looking down at him, he grows frustrated.
“I said I wanted you to ride me, don’t make me ask again. Now be a good girl, and sit.”
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Missed You 18+ (Smut/Fluff)
Pairing: Mike Schmidt x F!Reader
Abby had you on the floor, coloring with her as she simultaneously watched an old cartoon. She kicked her feet back and forth, eyes slowly growing heavy as she fought back sleep.
You suppressed a smile, knowing she was waiting for Mike to come home, she always did. It was an endearing thing and showed just how much she loved him. Even if he sometimes thought otherwise.
You were growing drowsy yourself and stood with a yawn, “Let’s put you to bed kiddo,” you mumbled to her sweetly, having adopted the nickname from Mike.
She seemed to ponder over your words for a moment before she reluctantly gathering her things. You put her papers and crayons away as she snuggled into bed.
You tucked her in and turned off the lights, pausing when her voice called out to you, “Will you leave the door cracked.. please?”
You nodded, “Of course, sweet dreams Abby,” you said softly, heart melting when she whispered goodnight.
You did as she asked and left the door cracked before you made your way back into the living room. You cleaned up what little mess the two of you had made and curled up on the couch.
The house was quiet aside of mumbling voices on the TV, you were warm and cozy, cuddled so snugly in the corner that you hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep.
You awoke just as Mike was closing the front door. He gave you a tired smile as he took off his boots and joined you on the couch.
He pulled you onto him, letting you stay tucked within your fluffy blankets. You hummed, laying your head on his chest, pressing a kiss there as he sighed.
“Rough night?” you asked with a gentle frown, looking up at his pretty brown eyes.
“Yeah,” he said quietly, voice weary. He pressed a kiss against your forehead, working his way down until he met your lips.
“Missed you,” he whispered, pulling you closer as his mouth moved slowly against yours.
You gripped onto his shirt, moaning softly in response. You missed him too, terribly so.
He’d been gone more often than not recently, you’d even debated driving down to that old pizzeria just to see him.
He grabbed your legs and positioned them around his waist before grabbing your hips to rock you against him.
His head fell back, lips parting from yours as he moved you how he pleased. You hid at his neck, one hand grasping arm as the other griped his shoulder.
You whined when he thrust his hips up against you, jeans hard against your soft pajamas. The friction had you squirming, a familiar throb forming between your legs.
“Wanna fuck you,” he groaned, reaching down to slide his hand in your cotton shorts. He swiped his middle finger along your wet folds, rubbing at your pussy a little before slipping his finger into his mouth.
“M’ gonna fuck you,” he said, voice strained in a hush, “right now.”
You whimpered at the promise, letting him lift you up and carry you to his bed. He carefully kicked the door shut behind him, the action silent and swift before he laid you onto his bed.
He stripped you of your shorts and panties, leaving you in only his large, plain shirt. You bit back a moan when his hand went back to your cunt, middle finger pushing into your slick heat.
Mike cursed to himself, dick straining in his pants as he fucked you with his finger, soon adding another, rubbing and pushing into you.
Your body was hot and aching, walls clenching around his digits. You were close, oh so close when he stopped entirely.
“Please,” you nearly cried, pleas silencing when his cock replaced his fingers. The stretch of it both painful and pleasurable.
He hadn’t even bothered taking his jeans off, wanting too badly to feel your warm, wet pussy around him.
He moaned into your shoulder, “So, so good baby.”
His thrusts were slow but rough, each pushing you further into the mattress as he intertwined his hands with yours.
It didn’t take long for him to speed up, fucking you just as he’d said he would. You were a flustered mess, holding back moans after each meaningful drive into your cunt.
You squeezed around him, eyes shutting as your hands tightened their grip on his. Your hips moved up into his, needy and wanting.
He leaned down, lips pressing against your ear as soft huffs escaped his mouth, “That’s it princess, want you to cream on my cock.”
His words sent you over the edge, pussy milking him as you came undone. He ground down onto your clit, thrusting into you until he pulled out and shot hot ropes of cum on your stomach.
He let his body engulf you as he rest on top of your smaller form, the weight was comforting.
“Wish I would’ve done that weeks ago,” he mumbled, kissing the soft flesh of your neck.
You yawned, fingers playing with his as a smile crept onto your lips, “Me too..”
#smut#kind of actually filthy#trying to get back into the flow of writing!#not proofread#mike schmidt#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x fem!reader smut#mike schmidt x you#fnaf movie#fnaf movie smut#x reader#fluff#my writing#rainywriter
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
HANDLE IT
mike schmidt x f!teacher!reader
word count; 2,417
warnings; once again, no plot, just porn <3
summary; mike has a look. that's never a good sign.
“Follow Mrs Davis and her class for lunch!”
Mike watched from his seat behind the teacher’s desk as his girlfriend saw her class out the door, hand on the handle and pulling it closed behind them, making sure to twist the lock while she did. The corners of his mouth twitched as she sighed and fell back against the door, blowing a strand of loose hair out of her face.
“Long day?” Mike asked and she narrowed her eyes over at him, her lips quirked in a tired grin. “Don’t even get me started,” she grumbled as she pushed herself off of the door, heels clicking against the tile as she made her way back to her desk.
“Abby hasn’t been a problem, I hope?” Mike cocked an eyebrow to his hairline as she leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek, settling herself down in her chair. She rolled her eyes at this, “you always make it seem like she should be causing trouble,” she tittered. “No, Abby’s always great.”
She watched as Mike reached for the floor beside him, a plastic takeout bag in his hand and she grinned, wiggling in her seat as he began to unravel the knot in the handles. “Sooo… what did you bring me?” She asked, letting the smell of what she swore was tomato sauce waft through her nostrils.
“New Italian place opened in the mall. Figured we could try it out,” he replied as he handed her one of the takeout boxes in which she ripped the lid off of, grinning over at Mike. “Spaghetti with meatballs. You know me so well.”
She leaned forward as he handed her the plastic fork to press a kiss against his lips and Mike smiled, practically chasing after her mouth again when she pulled away. He watched as she spun the spaghetti around her fork, as she took a bite and moaned at the taste.
Suddenly, Mike’s jeans felt very tight.
“What is this place called? It’s amazing,” she moaned, chewing behind her fingers as she turned to glance over at Mike. “Ten out of ten. This might even be better than your spaghetti and meatballs.”
Mike, although distracted by something else entirely, furrowed his brows at this, tossing his hands up. “Hey,” he said. “Thought you loved my spaghetti and meatballs.”
She shrugged, “they’re alright.” Mike playfully shoved her shoulder and she tried to bite back a chuckle, glancing back over to him. “Hey, I don’t see you eating spaghetti and meatballs, why don’t you try and find out?” She laughed, taking a bite from a meatball as Mike pressed his lips together, curved into a grin as he shook his head. “Nah, I’m not that hungry right now.”
She raised a brow and tilted her head to eye the other takeout box in the plastic bag. “Mike, you haven’t even touched your food,” she tittered, eyeing him incredulously. She narrowed her lids, “you have a look.”
The corner of Mike’s mouth twitched— she was catching on. “I don’t have a look.”
Her face fell and she dropped her fork in the to-go box, eyebrow cocked. “Yes, you do.”
Mike leaned back in his seat and locked his fingers together on his lap, shrugging as he turned his head to face her. “Enlighten me, what look do you think I have?”
For a fleeting moment, her gaze lowered to the very evident tent in his jeans, her thighs subconsciously clenching together at the sight, cheeks growing warm when he chuckled. She looked away, soothing her palms up and down the length of her skirt and Mike watched, teeth sunken into the inside of his cheek. A scenario played in the forefront of his mind, fantasizing about ripping the skirt clean off her legs and taking her right there on top of her desk had him balling a fist, squeezing his thumb so tight, it almost felt like it’d pop.
“Mike…”
“What?” He murmured, leaning in closer, brushing away the hair curtaining away the side of her face back behind her ear. She melted like wax at his touch, as if her fingertips were flames. Her skin burned so hot now, she feared she actually would melt into a pool of magma on the floor below.
“Here?” She whispered as he rolled his chair closer, his breath a phantom looming over her flesh, sending shivers slithering down the coil of her spine. Mike peered up into the sides of her irises, “why not?”
His lips pressed against the delicate skin just below her ear and she trembled, panicking eyes darting to the door she had thankfully locked. “I’ll give you a million reasons why not,” she murmured as his kisses trailed down to the curve of her shoulder, the scruff on his chin and just above his lips deliciously burning her skin.
“I can be sneaky,” he whispered against the valley between her neck and shoulder, his lips a crescent against her skin when he playfully nipped her flesh between his teeth there. She jolted and hissed, clenching her thighs together once more as the familiar slick of warmth burned the pit of her belly. “If somebody walks in, we’re both dead,” she murmured as his palm gripped and soothed down the length of her thigh, kneading at her knee, teasing her, taunting her.
“Relax, babe,” he breathed a chuckle against the crook of her neck. “I just want a taste, that’s all. Wouldn’t want you to get all fucked out before the day is over.”
His low, raspy words had her reeling, her head in a frenzy and teetering on the edge of a mindset she knew she was at risk of falling down into. “Screw you, Mike,” she muttered through gritted teeth as he grinned, placing one last kiss against the breadth of her shoulder before sinking down to his knees on the floor, hanging his head so that he could fit beneath the desk.
Her heart drummed against her chest as he slithered his way between her legs, hands on her knees as slowly he parted them, as if he were unwrapping a present on Christmas Day. Through heavy eyelids, she peered down at him just as a silent curse fell from his mouth, teeth burrowed into the plush of his bottom lip as the pads of his thumbs rubbed circles into the inside of her knees.
“You’re soaked clean through your panties,” he chuckled and she burned brighter, sweat already beginning to bead at her hairline and her chest heaving to the unsteady beat of her heart. His name fell from her lips in a whispered sigh as he reached forward with his right thumb, pressing the fat of it straight onto her clothed clit, her back arching up off of her chair as he traced an agonizingly slow and painful circle against it, sighing at the way her slick showed through the thin fabric of her underwear.
“Fffuck,” he grumbled beneath his breath, hiking the skirt that hugged her curves until they pooled at her hips, pushing her knees further apart until he had full access to everything. His gaze was like a laser, burning through the damp fabric of her panties straight through to her pussy. He eyed her like he was starved, like he’d go hungry if he didn't get himself a taste.
Mike hooked his middle and forefinger around the hem of her underwear and tugged, although with some resistance with how wet she was. She gasped when the fabric unstuck itself from her arousal, Mike’s lips falling agape as he tugged her panties all the way down her legs until they hooked around one single ankle. He pressed himself closer, wrapping his arms around her hips and with his palms to her ass, drawing her in even closer until she sat on the edge of her seat.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he marveled at the sight before him, admiring every single inch of her as if she were an artifact. She shuddered beneath his stare. “Mike,” she mewled through a shaky breath, “please.”
With those deep, rich chocolate brown eyes, he glimpsed up at her and she gazed back, wondering when his pupils ended and his irises started. His eyes glimmered with longing, with desire, with lust. She thought she’d come from just his stare alone.
“Have to stay quiet, hm?” He nodded up at her, maintaining eye contact as he pressed a kiss just above her clit, feeling it throb against his chin as she writhed, trying to suppress her mewl. She nodded, pressing her lips together as she briefly glanced up at the door then to the windows— she was so grateful she’d drawn the blinds earlier.
Their gazes never leaving one another, Mike carefully leaned down to press a tender kiss on top of her aching bud, her toes curling in, back arching off the back of her chair. One of her hands flung to the mess of dark tendrils atop his head, the other gripping the armrest of her desk chair. Mike pulled away again, the makings of a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Think you can handle it?” He asked and she whimpered, nodding, every ounce of dignity in her body long gone, thrown somewhere far away from right there.
“Just… please, Mike,” she whined, trying to keep her voice on the low as she gripped the roots of his hair tighter, inviting him back into her warmth, his arousal like a gloss on his lips. The crescent shape of his lips fell back against her clit as he pressed another kiss to it, electricity flowing through her body and making her jolt once more.
Mike eyed her through hooded lids as he licked a stripe all the way from her entrance back up the underside of her clit, relishing in the way she’d tremble and press her lips together in a desperate attempt to silence her whimpers. The delectable taste of her arousal coated his tongue and simmered on his taste buds as if she were his ambrosia, and he hummed as he licked another line up her slit.
“Taste so damn good,” he practically growled against her cunt as he plunged his face back in, his lips around her clit and tongue swirling against the sensitive nub. Tears were streaming down the sides of her face now as she threw her head back, using every last ounce of strength inside her body to will her moans to stay at a minimum. All she could do was pray that nobody would come knocking on her classroom door now.
A string of curses, his name among the mix, tumbled from her lips as he sucked her clit, every swirl of his tongue coaxing her closer and closer to the edge. She was balancing on a tightrope now, teetering on bliss as his tongue trailed down to her entrance, slow but firm as it pushed its way in. Her fingers tightened in the mess of hair on his head, pulling harder, making him surge into her.
She could feel every inch of his tongue inside of her and he was so close, the bridge of his nose pressed deliciously down on her clit, sending her down into a spiral of pleasure. She squeezed her eyelids together so tight, she was seeing stars, a shimmering backdrop of glitter as he swirled his muscle inside of her, humming into her at her taste.
“Sh… shi… shit, Mike!” She gasped as he nodded his head, tongue swirling inside of her, the bridge of his nose rubbing up and down against her clit. Her eyes were rolling into the back of her hand, every move his tongue made and every bit of pressure his nose applied to her clit added more rubber bands to the ball pressing down against the pit of her belly, dangerously close to erupting. “I’m… I’m gonna come if you don’t… if you don’t stop.”
Mike blinked up at her and pulled away for breath, every inch of his face from the bridge of his nose down slick and shiny with her arousal. She felt herself clench at the mere sight as his chest heaved, chasing air back into his lungs, a smug smirk on his face. “I’m betting on it, babe,” he chuckled before diving back in, her pussy empty one moment and nearly full of his tongue the next.
His eagerness almost had her screaming, her nails scraping so hard against his scalp, somewhere in the back of her mind, she feared she’d draw blood. Mike hummed against her— he didn’t seem to mind so much.
Oh, how could he when he could sense she was so close? He could practically smell her orgasm, using every ounce of skill in his body to push her even closer to the edge, to knock her unsteady on top of that tightrope until it snapped below her altogether.
With her hand not tangled in his hair, she sank her teeth into the side of her hand to muffle the scream that ripped through her body, squeezing her eyelids shut even tighter as her body spasms, bones rattling in her release’s wake. Her orgasm thundered and cracked through her body like an earthquake, the sheer power of her release like a tempest. Her thighs squeezed around Mike’s head and he palmed at the sides of them as he swirled his tongue inside of her again and again, making sure not a drop of her went to waste.
He was practically drinking her, slurping every last drop until there was none left to be had. And only when that moment came did he pull away, breathless as he sat back on his heels below her desk, swiping at the slick dripping down his face with the back of his hand.
Mike gazed up at her curiously, her head still thrown back over the back of the chair, chest heaving up and down as she struggled to catch her breath. He chuckled as he pushed himself out from underneath her desk and up so that he could stand beside her, a palm cupping her cheek, the other aiding her head to sit normally on her shoulders. The pad of his thumb soothed over against her cheek, coaxing her out of her bleary state, her vision slowly beginning to clear again.
Mike tried to bite back his smile, “doing alright there?”
She huffed as her cheeks burned, “shut up, Mike.”
a/n; i ended up writing up this one in like 45 minutes while sitting in the bathtub LMAO y'all went absolutely crazy with the last mike fic, you literally broke my tumblr notifications 😭 glad to see so many others horny for josh in this movie too
TAGLIST !!
@bxbyyyjocelyn
#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt fnaf#fnaf movie#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#josh hutcherson#michael afton#michael afton x reader#mike schmidt imagine
4K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
olga-gr-blog1
Moja Prawda
piinfeathers
Loose Feathers
theladywiththeblueeyes
Theladywiththeblueeyes
mayor-jazzmindow
Mayor Jazzmindow
tiredgenshinplayer
𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕣𝕒