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#FNAF fanfiction
sundrop-writes · 5 months
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if Mike fell asleep with you...
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Word Count: 750
Horror Characters Masterlist
Warnings: this is mostly pure fluff - Mike and the reader are in an established relationship, the reader's gender is not described in any way (the main pronouns used are you/yours), Mike calls the reader angel, the reader takes on a caregiver role for Abby, mostly just short and fluffy. This is set before the main events of the movie, when Mike is working as a security guard at the mall.
A/N: So, I've seen so many people in the tags going 'just let him sleep!!! that man is so exhausted!!' and saying that he's too tired to fuck in the way that people are writing fanfics about him. And as much as I love super horny fics, I do thought this up, because I agree - the man should be allowed to sleep. This is largely inspired by that scene in Grey's Anatomy where Meredith walked in and Owen was asleep on Cristina's chest while she was reading a book (I think it was when she was reading through Mer's mom's diaries?) - anyway. I love that scene so much because it shows how easily he sleeps around her because he's so comfortable around her. And that's why it deeply inspired this. Let him sleep.
...
Mike was exhausted when he came in the door. 
He heaved out a sigh as he closed the door behind him, toeing off his shoes - pure, stiff tiredness radiating through his whole body in the worst way. 
You knew that sound anywhere. 
“Long day?” You inquired gently from your position on the couch, lightly craning your neck to look at him. 
He shuffled further into the house in an almost zombie-like fashion, only giving you a solitary grunt in response. 
You felt kind of bad that he had been stuck at work late when you had been lucky enough to have a morning shift and been treated to a relaxing evening with Abby. She was a relatively easy kid to take care of, and generally fun to be around. 
And after you had put her to bed, you laid out on the couch, relaxing and reading a novel that your friend had recommended. Generally, you were having a nice evening. And it seemed that Mike was not. 
As you kept an eye on Mike, you folded over the page of your book to mark it and put it on the coffee table for later. 
“Dinner’s on the counter.” You told him. “I made lasagna. I can heat it up for you if you want.” 
You hated that before he started dating you, all he knew was freezer burnt crap - but you were slowly showing him how to cook, and a world of vegetables that didn't come in a can. 
Mike took off his jacket and the heavy belt he had to wear for work (his large walkie talkie and his taser were in his locker at work, as mandated, but the thing was still damn uncomfortable) and he hung them both up. 
He didn’t respond to your queries about dinner as he walked around the couch. Instead of speaking, seeing you laying there so relaxed - the sight was all too inviting, and he eased himself to lay on top of you in a form of very natural intimacy before he grunted a few words into your neck. 
“Did Abby eat?” He asked softly as he laid on top of you. 
It was oddly comforting to have the bulk of his weight on top of you, especially as he melted against you, letting out a small moan as the tension melted out of his bones. He adjusted himself to get more comfortable and his face rested against the softness of your chest - you glanced down to see that his eyes were drifting closed. 
“She ate two platefuls, and had some peas.” You assured him. “Did her homework, had a bath, and she practiced her spelling words before she went to bed.” 
Mike grunted again - a more positive pitch to this one. He couldn't ask for anyone better than you. Sometimes he worried about her - all the time. But when Abby was with you, that worry lessened a lot. 
“You’re an angel.” He hummed against your chest. “I don’t-” He let out a gentle yawn. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.” 
“You look hot in a uniform and my job at the bookstore gets boring.” You replied, half-joking about the circumstances of how your relationship with Mike had formed. 
You reached out to him and began running your fingers through his hair, soothing him even further into the realm of sleep with the comforting touch. 
He let out another tired moan in reply - something that almost stretched into a rolling sound with the gentle pleasure of your hand in his hair. With the way his body was so slack against yours, his breathing even and quiet, you knew this was only leading one place. 
“You wanna go get ready for bed?” You asked gently. 
“In a minute.” He answered softly, barely parting his lips to get the words out. 
You glanced over to the table and reached out, picking your book back up as his breathing deepened and his body went even more slack. You were preparing to get comfortable for the next few hours. You weren’t all that tired yourself, and you still had a few chapters left to go. When you got to the next chapter, he began to snore lightly and you felt drool dripping down your neck - which didn’t bother you all that much. You found it cute, in fact. 
You were comforted by the fact that he relaxed enough around you to get such a good sleep. You knew that he needed it. 
...
A/N: also, this is my first time posting a fic completely from mobile by copy/pasting something from google docs on my phone. So hopefully the formatting isn't too messed up and hopefully this goes well! And I hope you guys enjoy this short fluffy fic 💖
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scribblesandsherlock · 5 months
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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…
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• • •
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.
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jokeringcutio · 4 months
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Stepdad! William Afton x Reader – ‘Boyfriend’ (SMUT)
Summary: You bring home a boy. Your mother is excited. Your stepdad…not so. Cue to stepdad William Afton staking his claim and reminding you who you truly belong to.
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Fandom: FNAF (inspired by the movie verse) Pairing: William Afton x Reader Rating: Explicit Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (SMUT), Age difference, Older man x Younger woman, stepdad x daughter!reader, dub-con, implied con, taboofic, spanking, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, secret!sex, jealousy!, threats, hair pulling, unsafe sex, creampie, breeding!kink implied, infidelity, implied established stepdadxreader, William Afton is not a nice man, William Afton is a bad dad.
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Boyfriend
Flashing him an encouraging smile, you stepped into the warmth of your home, the chill from the outside air dissipating. Your mother bustled about in the kitchen, the familiar scents of her cooking enveloping you like a comforting embrace. As she turned to greet you, her gaze fell upon Sam, who stood just behind you.
"Mom," you said, motioning towards the young man beside you. "Remember Sam?"
Sam was undeniably handsome; his blond hair framed a chiseled face adorned with bright green eyes that seemed to capture every bit of light in the room. His tall frame filled out the doorway, exuding a quiet strength that immediately caught your mother's attention. Her eyes twinkled as she looked him over.
"Nice to meet you,” Sam said politely, extending a hand that your mother eagerly shook. Her eyes traced over his broad shoulders and the white toothy smile.
"You are on the football team, aren’t you?" she replied warmly, her excitement barely contained.
“I am,” Sam confirmed, his smile broadening, reminiscing you of ancient statues of Greek Heroes and Gods. He was picture-perfect. Just the right type of boy to take home to impress your mother with.
"Actually, Mom," you hesitated for just a moment before continuing, voice shy and eyelashes fluttering, "Sam and I are dating.”
"Really?" Her eyes widened, a grin spreading across her face. "Oh, how wonderful!" She clapped her hands together in delight.
“Your daughter is a gem,” Sam said smoothly, words slipping out like velvet. You could just see how your mother seemed to approve of him.
He placed his bag on the kitchen counter and seemed to look around for something, then his eyes traveled to you, a question within them. You tried to suppress a grin and shook your head, and Sam’s eyes traced back to your mom.
"Excuse me," Sam said, "Can I use the…?”
"Of course, dear." Your mother pointed down the hallway. "Second door on the right."
As soon as he disappeared from sight, your mother pulled you into a tight hug. "So spill, when did this happen? Didn’t you tell me you didn’t like that boy?”
“Just today,” you said with a small grin. “And perhaps I changed my mind. Try and date. Like someone kept nagging I should.”
“Finally,” your mom said, raising her palms in the air. “I have been praying you would go on a date, even if it was just once. You really need to get some experience. And Sam seems… nice.”
“I know,” you said, tongue pressing against the back of your teeth pensively. “He’s not my type…”
“I wasn’t going to say that,” your mother said hesitatingly, though you could tell she had been thinking it. Then she flashed you another smile and gently placed her hand on top of yours. “I am happy you are finally crawling out of your shell. You’re a pretty girl,” at this you scrunched your nose and she caught sight of it, “yes, you are. Even if you think differently.”
Then she let go of your hand and let out a happy sigh. “Oh, I remember when I was your age.”
You rolled your eyes as you both said, “Dated a new boy each week.”
You looked at your mom and you both laughed. “I know, mom,” you said. “I know. But I’m not like that.”
“I know,” she replied with a gentle smile, her head resting on her hands and her elbows leaning on the kitchen counter as she looked at you. “I'm so happy for you, sweetheart! He seems like a great guy."
You couldn't help but smile. "He really is, Mom."
Sam returned to the kitchen, a sheepish grin on his face, and you both settled down at the table to work on your homework assignment. Your mother, sensing that you two might want some time alone, gave you both a teasing smile.
"If you get hungry you may take from these,” she gestured at the food she’d been making. “I'll be working in the attic if you need anything," she said before exiting the kitchen.
Sam eyed the snacks your mother had been making and picked one up, taking a bite. You followed his example.
The assignment before you was boring, and quite soon both of you were sighing. You noticed how Sam was moving closer to you with every opportunity he got, brushing an arm against you or a leg. It was exactly why you had chosen to date him. You just knew he would make a move and never took schoolwork seriously. He was that type of guy. Hands-on. Thinking of one thing only.
"God, I hate this assignment," Sam mumbled as he flipped through his textbook, his green eyes filled with annoyance.
"Tell me about it," you agreed, rubbing your temples. "Let's take a break and put on some music."
"Great idea." Sam pulled out his phone and connected it to a small speaker. Soon, the sultry sounds of bachata filled the air, and you couldn't help but sway along to the rhythm.
"Come on," Sam stood up, offering you his hand. "Let's dance."
You grinned, taking his hand and allowing him to lead you into the dance. His strong arms guided you effortlessly, the heat between you two palpable as your bodies moved in sync. The world around you seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the music and Sam's embrace.
The sound of a door slamming shut jolted you back to reality and you looked straight into the fury blue eyes of your father.
William Afton, your stepfather, stood in the doorway, his face twisted with anger. You immediately felt a knot of fear tighten in your stomach.
"Uh, hi Dad," you stammered, trying to sound casual even as your heart raced.
"Who is this?" he growled, his cold blue eyes narrowing as they fixed on Sam. Pretty young boy. Everything the opposite of what he was.
"Th-this is Sam," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "He's my boyfriend." Not quite, but dating counted, right?
"Boyfriend?" William sneered, his distaste evident. "And that makes this okay? You think I'd let something like this happen under my roof?"
"Sir, we were just—" Sam began, only to be cut off by the sharp, icy glare William shot him.
"Enough," William snapped, his tone making it clear that there would be no further discussion. You could see Sam's jaw clench in frustration, but he wisely held his tongue.
You forced yourself to take a calming breath and lowered your gaze submissively. "I'm sorry, Dad," you murmured, hoping that would be enough to placate him for now.
William's lips curled into a sneer as he paced the room, his anger radiating in waves. "You're too young to be dating," he spat, his words like venom. "Don’t know what you’re getting into, do you? So eager for a boy’s cock."
You felt your cheeks flushed and shyly stared at the floor, letting your stepdad’s words wash over you like waves.
“And you,” he then said, aiming his fully attention at Sam now. “I know your type. Think you can seduce a naïve young girl, fuck her on your cock once and then throw her aside like a cheap whore. Laugh about it afterward with your friends. You think my daughter’s easy like that?”
Sam shifted uncomfortably under the weight of William's gaze, visibly shrinking back from him. You felt your cheeks burn with humiliation, wanting nothing more than to disappear.
"Maybe your mother thinks it's cute," William continued, turning back to you again, his voice dripping with disdain. "But I know better. She'd love to see you become a whore, wouldn't she?"
"Hey, that's not fair—" Sam started to protest, but a single raised hand from William silenced him.
"Enough." The word was barely more than a growl, and it sent shivers down your spine. You couldn't help but feel betrayed by Sam's inability to defend you, even as you knew that standing up to William was like trying to stop a hurricane with an umbrella.
"Look," Sam muttered, avoiding your eyes. "I should go. We can finish the homework later, or something."
And it was exactly this something that had the hope inside if your tummy plummeting. As Sam rushed to your front door, you followed him with featherlight steps.
Somehow this was what you had expected of him. All tough and popular in school, but when facing a bigger man he would shrink away.
It irked you that he didn’t even try to stand up for you, that he accepted this defeat without so much as turning to your dad and telling him off. Nope, he just went to the door. Left you to your dad. Coward.
You slammed your hand on the door before he could open it, forcing him to lock eyes with you.
"Wait," you whispered. "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you stand up for me?"
"Your dad,” Sam spoke through gritted teeth but hesitated, as if he were uncertain why he even had this conversation with you. At the end of the hallway, you could feel your stepdad’s towering presence, heavy and dark.
Like a shadow watching over the two of you.
“Your dad’s just...too much for me," Sam finally admitted, his voice tense. He paused and looked at you. "I'm sorry."
"Stepfather," you corrected him softly, feeling a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. "He's my stepfather."
Sam shrugged, his bag on his back, the zipper open still, showing the folders and maps you were supposed to be working on.
"Either way, I don't want to be around him." With that, Sam stepped out the door, leaving you alone to face the storm that was William Afton.
You slowly turned around, the shape of your stepfather like a dark shadow at the end of the hall. The displeased curve of his lips was visible from where you stood.
He only needed to point a finger to the floor, signaling that you had to return to him. No words were needed. Step after careful step, you walked closer, entering the room before he closed the door behind you.
“Well now,” the words came out low and rasped as your stepdad placed his large hand on the small of your back, guiding you back to the kitchen table before roughly pushing you toward it. You tumbled over by the sheer force, chest pressed against the cold wood as items that had still been on the table now clattered to the floor.
Strong hands moved past your hips, pulling your pants and panties down in one swift motion, exposing your neither regions. Cold air brushed past your skin and you subdued a shudder.
"You think it's okay to bring someone else home, hmm?" William asked, his voice cold. "Think I wouldn't find out?"
"Dad, I-" you began to protest, but he cut you off.
"Quiet." He didn't give you a chance to respond before he delivered the first spank, sharp and sudden. You gasped at the mix of pain and pleasure that shot through your body. His hands were big, even against the supple flesh of your ass.
"Count," he instructed, his breath heavy.
“One,” you said, words forced out through gritted teeth. Another slap, the stinging slightly fiercer than before. Your hands curled into fists in front of you, trying to support your weight on your elbows as you stood bent forward over the table. Another smack. “Two.”
You heard the deep breathing of your stepdad as it increased. He was getting excited. “You brat,” you heard him murmur in between slaps. The stinging increasingly becoming worse, the pain a delightful pleasure that made you hum.
“It’s clear Dad here has got to teach you a lesson not to be such a little slut,” each of those final words was punctuated by another firm slap to your buttocks, making you see stars and wheeze with pleasureful pain.
You whimpered out the numbers, bracing yourself for another smack. As the spanking continued, your cheeks burned and your arousal grew. There was something thrilling about being at his mercy, about submitting entirely to him.
Finally, your stepdad stopped, and you waited in anticipation for another slap. But it didn’t come. Instead, you felt his strong hands massaging your tender flesh. His fingers, rough from years of working on animatronics, sent shivers down your spine as he caressed your sensitive skin, separating your now sore cheeks and pushing them back together again.
"Such a pretty little thing, aren't you?" he purred, his hot breath fanning across your wet pussy. You could tell by the tone of his voice that he'd gotten exactly what he wanted, and it both terrified and excited you. He leaned down, his tongue teasing your slit before he captured your clit between his teeth, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.
"Dad," you moaned, unable to contain yourself any longer. He hummed in response, his lips working expertly on your most sensitive spot. The nibbling the flick of his tongue to your sensitive clit, it was all too much, and you had to bite the back of your hand in order to keep from crying out loud. Suppose your mom would hear.
No, she could never find out!
Chapped lips curved against your sensitive sticky-wet skin. The little hairs of his beard tickled you as William continued to pleasure you with his mouth. You felt a familiar tension building within you. Desperate for release, you wriggled on the table, wishing you could somehow grasp his hair and urge him on. But he held your hips tightly in his hands, grip strong enough to create finger-shaped bruises, his head buried between your legs. All you could to was squirm against the table, wishing you could see him as he ate you out.
"Please," you begged, the sound nearly a sob. William chuckled darkly, slipping his fingers inside you and curling them just right. It was all too much – the pressure, the pleasure, the pain – and suddenly, you were falling apart, your orgasm washing over you in a tidal wave of sensation.
Your body trembled, pussy pulsing wildly around his finger and tongue, slick gushing forward and into his awaiting mouth, coating his lips.
As he withdraw, you heard a dark chuckle. Your world spun and slowly got back into focus, and you realized you were still on the table, your weight resting on your elbows as you stared at the photographs of your family hanging on the wall.
You were grateful that the table supported you, because your legs were shaking and you didn’t think you could stand on your own right now.
"Good girl," William praised, his voice low and dangerous as he withdrew his fingers from your quivering core. As you lay there, catching your breath, you could feel the lingering pulse of your orgasm still radiating through your body. But William wasn't finished with you yet.
"Stay bent over," he commanded, his voice rough and demanding. You obeyed, anticipation causing a shiver to run down your spine. The sound of his zipper being undone filled the room, and you couldn't help but feel both nervous and excited for what was about to happen.
"Such a tight little pussy," he growled as he positioned himself behind you, one hand gripping your hip while the other tangled in your hair. He pulled you back, forcing you to arch your back even more as his cock pressed against your entrance.
"Please," you whimpered, desperate for him.
"Who do you belong to?" he asked, his voice dark and dangerous.
"Y-you," you stuttered, feeling your face flush with embarrassment.
"Say it," he demanded.
"I belong to you, Daddy."
"Good girl," he praised before thrusting into you without warning, his cock splitting you open and filling you completely. A gasp tore from your throat as you struggled to adjust to his size, but William didn't give you any time to recover. He set a brutal pace, pounding into you like an animal, his grip on your hair keeping you in place.
"Fuck, you're so perfect," he snarled, his breath hot on your neck. His words sent a shudder through you, and you couldn't help but push back against him, wanting to take him deeper.
"Harder, please," you begged, needing to feel his complete control.
"Greedy little thing," he chuckled, somehow managing to drive into you even harder. "You love this, don't you?"
You parted your lips to answer, the feelings overwhelming you. But he was quicker.
“Quiet,” he snarled in your ear, “We don’t want your mother to hear what we’re doing here, do we?”
Hard as it was, you managed a nod – even with the way he kept a grip tightly on your hair. Your body ached for him, and every thrust of his hips seemed to drive you further under his spell.
"Tell me who you're gonna fuck from now on," he demanded, his voice a low growl.
"Only you, Daddy."
"Damn right," he muttered as he continued to pound into you, each thrust making your body shudder with pleasure. You felt the firm outline of his hips, the softness of his belly pressing against your back as he thrust inside of you. It shouldn’t feel so sinful, but it did. Your much older stepfather was making you feel so good, that it dazed you.
You could feel another orgasm building, but before you could reach that peak, William's grip on your hair tightened as his own release approached.
"Fuck!" he snarled, his hips slamming into you one last time as he came, filling you with his hot seed. His grip changed on you while you cried out, walls fluttering around his hard shaft. His hand on your hip and the one pulling your hair ensured that you were pulled flushed against him, making sure he stayed buried deep inside for just a little longer than needed while your cunt pulsed around him.
Slowly, your vision started to stabilize again. The warped pictures on the wall came back into focus and your pussy’s grip on his cock became looser, not pulsing as frequently as your body started to relax.
His panting breaths filled the room as he slowly pulled out, releasing your hair from his grip.
“Now, what do you say?” you heard his low voice rumble as you slumped forward on the table, catching your breath.
"Thank you, Daddy," you murmured, feeling the slick escape from the depths of your core, sliding all the way down your legs. You slowly got up and pushed yourself away from the table, facing William.
He stood a few feet behind you, his pants resting on his hips, cock and balls proudly on display. Liquid coated his softening shaft, and you watched entranced as he started to tuck it back inside his pants before zipping his fly.
You followed his example, bending over to pull your pants up, wincing at the discomfort you felt deep inside your core where he had been battering your cervix without a care in the world. You prayed your mother wouldn’t walk in right now, but luckily, she didn’t.
When you were presentable enough again – making sure your hair wasn’t quite the mess and ignoring the cold sticky liquid that ran down the inside of your thigh – you took a step closer to your stepdad.
“Mr. Afton,” you said, knowing he liked it when you addressed him so formally. And it worked. You saw the spark in his blue eyes. Licking your lips, closed the distance between you, standing on your tiptoes to give him a gentle kiss.
Once the kiss broke, your eyes met his blue ones. The pupils so dilated they seemed almost black.
“That’s better,” your stepfather said, his hand resting on the small of your back, keeping you close to him whilst towering over you. Just the height of him made you feel small, but then there was that gaze and the firm tone he used when he spoke to you. So demanding, so in control.
"Remember," he warned, his eyes dark and intense. "I don’t ever want to see you take another boy home again, or the consequences will be far beyond anything you can ever imagine.”
As a spark lit off in your eyes, he caught sight of it and his grip on you tightened. The corners of his lips pulled into a tight line. “I am serious, do not challenge me on this one. It is unlike what you are thinking of.”
And somehow, those words brought with them a sense of danger that made you actually feel cold on the inside, like he wasn’t threatening to fuck you hard as a punishment, but that he was threatening whatever man you might want to take home in future times. Like a death sentence. Would he kill them?
“You're mine, and I don't share," he rasped.
You nodded, your heart racing at his possessiveness. Somehow, it felt both terrifying and thrilling to be so completely claimed by this dangerous, powerful man.
And as you looked into his eyes, you knew your plan had worked.
“I promise to be good for you, Dad,” you said, words a whisper.
He let go just in time before the door flung open and your mother entered the room.
“Ah, sweetheart, you’re back,” she said, bright smile on her face as she walked over to give William a hug and a kiss on his lips. His blue eyes darted past her to meet yours and you quickly glanced aside.
Once they broke apart, your mother turned toward you. “Where’s Sam?” And then a frown formed on her face as she sniffed the air. She must have been quick in recognizing the scent and deducing what must have happened, for you could see her lips curl into a small smile and her eyes twinkle,
“Well, at least I hope you’ve used protection,” she muttered as she brushed past you to return to the snacks she prepared earlier in the kitchen.
“Want a taste of something sweet,” she curiously asked your stepdad, holding up one of the plates with prepared snacks.
William’s grin widened. “Oh,” he murmured, “I think I already have.”
~ Fin ~
AN: I am open for prompts. Want to read more? Why not check my masterlist, I write a lot of reader-inserts, including x William Afton, Arthur Fleck, The Grabber, Arthur Harrow, Severus Snape, and many more. ~
Taglist: @likoplays @2pacl0ve
AN: For more, follow me (:
~~ Support me on Ko-Fi - Masterlist - Request Box ~~
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x-emoloverofthings-x · 7 months
Note
william breeds his s/o after seeing the souls of the children he killed in the restaurant without his s/o knowing about his secret.
"There's a small boy in that area, asking for a hug. So, I gave him one. William, can we have a baby?"
HOLY FUCK THIS REQUEST IS AMAZING
EXPLICIT Content, 18+, Dark-content (ish), Breeding, Taking to ghosts, William Afton is a bitch (and I love it)
-You had been tiding up the restaurant just after closing so you could get some cleaning done.
-When a young boy, no older than none of ten had appeared before you. You hadn't even heard him approach you.
-He seemed lost and very sad. "Sweetie, are you okay? Where are your parents?" You asked him
-The boy sniffled and told you that he couldn't find them. He was close to tears.
-"I'm scared." He said. "Can I have a hug?"
-Your heart melted when he asked you this, poor little boy. You knelt down and opened your arms and he ran into your embrace.
-You said to the boy if he waited here for you to get your keys, you could drive him around to look for his parents.
-He nodded and you left the room to grab your purse. But when you had come back the boy was no where to boy found.
-Assuming his parents came back, you continued to tidy up the restaurant.
-The thought of the boy never let your mind through. Making you realize how much you longed for your own child.
-Later at home you approached your husband William, telling him you run in with the child today.
-A glint appeared in his eye when you mentioned the child, you asked him to start a family with you.
-"There's a small boy in the area asking for a hug, so I gave him one. William, can we have a baby?"
-His response was scooping you up bridal style in his arms and carrying you into the bedroom.
*****
-William wasted no time with you, he was as eager as you has ever seen him.
-He tossed you onto the bed and threw his clothes off, damn near pouncing on top of you.
-The love he made to you was ravenous, he was rough without being painful, his desperate-ness to get your pregnant turned you on.
-He had never treated you like this before, this time he was holding nothing back. The way he fucked you this time had orgasm after orgasm rolling through your body.
-You had gone multiple rounds all throughout the night but refused to stop. You saw starts and could only chant his name. It turned you on how hard he was trying to fertilize you.
-You were so turned on from how excitable he was to start a family with you.
*****
-William recognized who the brat was instantly when his wife described the boy to him.
-Not even a month ago he had stuffed its corpse into one of his believed robots.
-And now his dumbass wife was gullible enough to mistake it for a real child and let him breed her over it.
-William was drunk with power, feeling like a God among men. He was able to do whatever he wanted, there were no consequences for any of his actions.
-He held nothing back this time while fucking his wife. The dumb cunt was so cock drunk that he could have done anything to her and she would still be praising him for it.
-An insane expression distorted his face as he repeatedly slammed into her. His adrenaline allowed for hi to shot load after load into her eager womb.
-William got to claim her as his own, just from this one night she would have to be dependent on him for nine months. He owned this bitch.
-Madness poured off of him in waves, his delusions were all encompassing. Animalistic instincts took over and he could feel another orgasm build as he pounded into his wife.
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psychedelic-ink · 5 months
Text
ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄
ㅤㅤmike schmidt x nanny!f!reader
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genre: smut, minors dni, mutual pining, hurt/comfort
word count: 3.5k
summary: juggling your role as abby's nanny, tensions rise as mike's fixation on the past leads to a heated argument between the two of you. unspoken emotions linger, pushing both you and mike to the breaking point.
warnings: some arguing, tension, piv, oral (reader receiving)
**dividers made by @saradika xx
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A soft knock is enough for Mike to stir in his sleep but not enough to wake him. Abby is drawing happily in her room, content for now after you bribed her with chicken nuggets and a lengthy story time to come after. She’s been missing Mike. And she’s been wanting to go to work with him. You’re not sure how much longer you can tempt her to stay at home instead of going to the pizzeria. 
You close the door, a soft click following suit. He’s still sound asleep, completely unaware of your nearing presence. He asked you to wake him up. But it’s hard when he looks so peaceful. The sounds of birds and crickets reach your ear. You sigh. How long was he going to chase the past?
“Mike,” you say gently. “Time to go.” 
His brows furrow, a murmur falling from his lips. With a smile you shake your head, the bed creaks as you take a seat. “Come on dummy,” you pinch his cheek and his eyelids flutter. “You’re going to be late.”
“So close,” he mutters, his head moving to rest on your lap. Your heart jumps. All you want to do is thread your fingers through his hair and keep him exactly where he is but you know it’s not likely. As soon as he’s fully awake he’ll pull up his walls. “Can you help me take off my poster from the ceiling?”
As he talks his lips move above your thigh, the soft fabric of your sweats leaving little to the imagination. “Why?”
“Gonna take it to work,” his voice is hoarse with sleep. 
A sudden annoyance prickles over your skin, heat building in your stomach— Again with the dreams. Again with wanting to change the past. You’ve been working for him for months now (though can you really say you’ve been working for him when he hasn’t been paying you?) and he’s always been the same. You understand. You really do. But Garett isn’t here anymore, Abby is—you are. 
“No, Mike,” you say, your eyes following his sharp jawline dusted with a bit of stubble. He stirs a bit, legs moving underneath the covers one leg pops out. You swallow. It’s unbelievable the things he doesn’t notice about the people around him. His eyes finally open and you lean back, you’re not a fan of the angle. “Look, the poster is on the damn ceiling. What do you want me to do? Carry you on my shoulders?” 
“I was thinking the opposite.”
“Whatever you have in mind my answer is still no,” you eye the book on the bedside table. “You shouldn’t be sleeping on the job, you know that.”
“It’s called decorating,” he answers with a hint of annoyance laced into his voice. Well, he’s not the only one. He peels himself away from your lap and leans against the wall, you miss the heat of him already. “Besides what do you care about what I do during the job?”
“That place gives me the creeps. I’d prefer it if you’re fully awake.”
Mike sighs and stretches, the soft fabric of his shirt sliding up, a sliver of skin shows. Your knees brush against one another. It almost feels like you’re kids just hanging out with the parents still sleeping. It’s reminiscent, in a way. He runs a band over his face. 
“You don’t need to worry about me.”
“Too late for that.” 
“I’ll pay you with my next paycheck promise.”
You turn to him, eyes narrowing, “Don’t change the subject. You know I don’t care about any of that at this point. It’s been months, Mike. I would be gone if that was what I only cared about.”
He seems distraught by your answer, even more so than normal. “I... I know that. But you're always here, looking after Abby, taking care of the house. . . I want you to have a life and not be stuck here for Abby’s sake.” 
Ouch. Have a life? You don’t think Mike realizes that he basically shoved a knife in your chest. 
You slide off of the bed, your heart beats quick, a bit too quick for comfort. “Sorry that me helping out is a sign that I have nothing better to do,” you snap. You hear the start of an apology escaping his lips, both feet touching the ground as he contemplates if he should get up or not. “And if you’re so guilty about me being here maybe you should be here yourself.”
The regret settles even before you leave the room. You know he’s going to be thinking about what you said and twist it into the worst possible meaning his brain can fathom—which can be quite dark knowing Mike. 
You’re halfway down the hall, heading to the kitchen when Mike catches up to you. He takes hold of your wrist, slightly tugging you back until he’s got your full attention. You give it to him. Eyes fluttering as you find it hard to look into his eyes. He’s too expressive. You hate being able to see every emotion flickering in them, and likeways you’re scared he can read you just as clearly. 
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 
Oh, you’ve never heard him this mad before. Your eyes drop to where he’s holding you, his fingers an iron vice around your wrist. Your pulse races, the tips of your ears warm. His gaze follows where you’re staring, you expect him to let go but he doesn’t, instead, he squeezes harder, his thumb following the vein on the inside of your wrist. “Is this why you’re here? To play hero to my life?” 
Your eyes narrow, “Fuck off, Mike,” you yank your wrist away, a bit of skin catching on his nail. It stings. “Just go to work. I’ll see you in the morning.” 
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You had just dropped off Abby to school and promptly doing the dishes before you head out. You didn’t need to wash the dishes perse, but you were hoping Mike would show up before you left. Alas, it was almost noon, and still no signs of him. Not even a phone call. Which he would usually do if he was coming back later than normal. 
You two did end the conversation quite nastily, so you guess you shouldn’t be too surprised that he hasn’t shown up, hoping that you’d leave before he came back. 
A bit too aggressively, you knead the sponge until suds appear. He’s a moron. A complete idiot to think that you were only around just out of pity. His words stung and biting back probably wasn’t the best solution. Shaking your head, you grab a plate and rub it hard enough to potentially peel off the enamel coating. 
“Stupid,” you murmur, finding a bit of relief in letting the words slip. “Stupid, idiot, moron—” 
“You shouldn’t do the dishes if it makes you that angry.” 
Your turn with a jerk, “Mike!” A plate slips, crashing into the sink, without even thinking another cuss drops from your mouth and you dunk your hand into the water to grab it. Just as your fingers graze the sharp pointed ceramic, Mike yanks your hand out of the water. 
“Are you crazy?” he says surprisingly calm, as if he’s to tired to raise his voice or show panic within the words. “Just leave it, I’ll clean it later.” 
Your chest heaves, he holds your wrist vastly differently compared to last night. Eyes wide, you feel the rise and fall of your chest, his gaze momentarily follows the movement before sliding his hand to your elbow. A shudder runs up your spine, your breath coming in short pants, your fingers curl into your palm. 
“Sorry,” he murmurs letting go. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 
“You’re still holding me, Mike.” He looks tired. The skin under his eyes darker than usual, he even looks a bit beat up. Closing his lips, he swallows thickly and lets go. Your hands are still dripping water, you wipe them dry against your shirt. “Rough night?” 
He shakes his head, “No. Just the normal. Dreams were a bit rougher than usual.” 
“You took your poster then?” 
His lips press into a thin line and he takes a seat. Fighting the urge to close your eyes, you bring out a bowl, milk, and stale store-brand froot loops. His lips tentatively twitch into a small smile. 
“It’s Abby you’re taking care of,” he says. “I can look after myself.” 
“Can you?” 
He ignores the subtle bite in your remark and pours himself a bowl of cereal. He doesn’t eat immediately, letting the colorful hoops sit there for a while, he clears his throat. “I got my paycheck.” 
“Congrats.” 
“I can pay you.” 
“I guess you can.” 
His eyes flash, brows furrowing, “Why are you being so difficult?” 
“I’m—” Once again his words hit a nerve. Difficult. Something you often heard right before people left you. Difficult difficult difficult. “I’m not.” 
Mike shifts and stands straighter, your eyes drift to the cereal—must be soggy as hell now. “I know,” he says barely above a whisper. “Yeah, I know you’re not. Sorry.” 
“It’s fine,” You lie. “And about the other thing, you can pay me later. Get Abby a new set of crayons, she’s going so fast through those things that I’m scared she’s just swallowing them,” you smile weakly as you get up. “I’ll be back before your shift, okay? And I think I should take some time off for a little while.” 
“What?” Mike stands up with you, his shoulders rise, the muscles in his jaw flexing. “Why? Is. . . Is it because of last night? I’m—”
“You’re sorry I know,” you sigh. “It has nothing to do with you. I just. . . I just need to think for a while. I. . just a day, okay, just give me a day.” 
His demeanor changes, his shoulders drop, his eyes grow soft. He nods and you take that as your cue to leave. You grab your back off the couch and he follows you to the hallway. With your hand around the doorknob, you hear him one more time. 
“I care about you, you know,” he calls out and you swear you hear the bob of his Adam’s apple. “I don’t show it but I do.”  
You don’t know how to answer him without bursting like a bubble, exposing every setting emotion that rolls in your gut. Your fingers tighten around the metal and you nod without looking. 
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“Red crayon, please.” 
You roll your eyes playfully, a small smile playing on your lips, “Abby, it’s literally right in front of you.” She just shrugs and extends her tiny palm towards you. “Fine you little artist, here you go.” 
You place the crayon in her open palm, she slowly closes her fingers around it and starts coloring vigorously. With a smile, your eyes move back to the TV, you’re not sure what’s happening on the screen. The picture on the screen blurs a little, static growing and growing until a soft creak of the floor catches your attention. You turn to see Mike leaning against the doorframe. You wonder how long he’s been there, watching you and his sister occupy the normalcy of the living room. 
“Hey,” he says. 
“Hey.” 
Abby doesn’t bother to look up, too entranced in her drawing. Mike sighs as his gaze lingers on his sister. “Abby can you give us a minute?” 
She blinks before she looks up, suddenly startled, her curious eyes flits between the two of you. “Are you two gonna fight?” 
“No, Abby,” Mike answers, exasperated.”We’re not going to fight. Just. . . talk.” 
Surprisingly Abby leaves without much protest. She gathers her things and heads to her room, while walking past Mike, he softly ruffles her air. She sticks her tongue out and glares at him before disappearing completely. His face falls a bit upon meeting your gaze. You pat the empty seat next to you but he ends up sitting on the coffee table instead, your knees brushing together, he levels you with a soft look. 
“She’s going to ask questions you know.” 
“I don’t care,” he says hastily. “I do think we need to talk.” 
“Fine then. . . talk.” 
He seems unsure of himself now, “I know you’re mad about me because of what I said but I didn’t mean it—” 
“It’s not that,” you cut in. “Sure I was hurt, but that’s not what frustrates me about you, Mike. You have to let go. . . of him. He’s gone, Abby’s here.” 
He suddenly stands up, taking you by surprise, heads towards the kitchen. Your pulse rises as your eyes remain glued to the TV. In the distance, you hear him, “You don’t get to say that to me,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “You don’t know what it’s like.” 
You hear the fridge door opening and closing. You know he’s doing it simply to get away from you, from what you’re saying. You follow him, anger warming your cheeks, you find him leaning back against the kitchen counter, knuckles turned white while holding the edge. 
“So just because I didn’t lose a sibling I don’t get to talk about it?” you scoff. “That’s bullshit.”
“You don’t know what’s it like to lose someone and for it to be out of your control.” He’s shaking slightly, shoulders rounding as he speaks. “I need to know who did it. And I’m close, so fucking close.” 
You shake your head and finally, with a burst of bravery, you hold his face between your hands. His mouth closes shut. Your chest feels as if someone filled it to the brim with rocks. It’s heavy and overwhelming. You can barely breathe as you fix your gaze on him. Without even realizing you begin to stroke the apple of his cheeks, you swear he leans into your touch, your bodies growing closer. 
“Listen to me, Mike,” your voice trembles. “If you don’t stop you’ll end up losing everyone who cares about you.” 
His hand closes over yours, “Does that include you too?” 
“What if it did?” 
“I can’t. . .” he chokes. “I can’t stop.” 
You pull away, body feeling chilled in his absence. You blink away the tears, swallow the persistent knot in your throat. It was an empty threat. You know you won’t leave, no matter how insistently you implied that you might. “Then I think you should go. You’re going to miss your shift.” 
“Fuck my shift.” 
You feel the soft touch of his lips. It grows violent, smothering. You moan eagerly into his mouth, your wrist caught between his fingers, he pulls you closer. Mike slips his tongue between your lips and tastes you eagerly. Arousal pools between your legs, your stomach bottoming out as he whimpers and licks himself deeper into you. You melt against him. Your nipples tight and tingling with every lick. 
His hand curls around the back of your neck, the gentle pressure making you break away, “Mike—” you whisper, eyes teary. He licks the seam of your lips and teases your bottom lip with his teeth. Slack-jawed, you tilt your head back, he eagerly dips down and closes his lips around your neck. “Take me to your room.” 
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He’s gentle. So painfully gentle that you fear your heart might stop at any given moment. The back of his fingers trace the contours of your body slowly, gooseflesh rising in his wake, he buries his face into the crook of your neck and takes deep breaths as he lifts your shirt. Your eyes roll when his hands immediately cup both your breasts, thumbs toying with your pebbled nipples. The pads of his thumbs smooth over them slowly, it’s almost ticklish. A shiver runs up your spine and you gasp, he sucks the air that escapes your lungs, slanting his lips over yours. 
The seam of your panties gather with slick. You desperately rub your thighs together. Heat blossoms over patches of skin, Mike sucks on your bottom lip and toys with the waistband of your sweats. “Can I taste you?” 
“Yes,” you pant, the thought of his tongue parting you making you near delirious. Your breath hitches. 
He gives your cheek a quick peck, “You have to get on the floor. My bed is too loud.” 
“Just how hard are you planning to fuck me?” 
His eyes darken, “Until you’re a mess.”  
You drop to the ground, Mike following you close with kisses down the column of your neck. Your legs spread and he tugs down your sweats, revealing your soaked cunt. His chest heaves. You follow the movement of his tongue as it swipes over his bottom lip, his thumb dips between your folds and moves up to brush over your clit. Your legs twitch, electricity coursing over your burning skin. 
“You have to keep quiet,” he groans, fingers slipping inside. Your head drops back, your back arches. A violent breath of air rips from your lungs and before it can become louder, you cover your mouth with both hands. “Good,” he murmurs, breath tickling your throbbing clit. Mike tentatively closes his lips around it, sucking, he pushes his fingers deeper. 
Your throat constructs in of itself. Waves of pleasure washing over you like warm grains of sand. The sounds coming out of you are downright sinful and with each thrust of his fingers it gets louder. Your insides clench around him and at the same time he curls his fingers, your eyes squeeze shut, your lips moving against the inside of your hand. Too good. It feels too good. 
Without even noticing you had begun to grind your hips, the sensitive bundle of nerves pressing against his mouth harder. Mike moans wantonly into you, the sound coming out muffled. He moves his head side to side and flattens his tongue over your clit. Your fingers delve into the soft locks as you pull him closer.
He delves his tongue back and forth, rougher this time, faster. Your body goes rigid, forcing you to cry out into your hands as your orgasm takes you over. Sudden sparks of pleasure clash throughout your body, intensifying to unbelievable heights as he plays with your swollen nub. His mouth and fingers move endlessly until you’re gasping for air, shattered remnants of your desperate pleas mashed against your palm. 
Mike glances up, eyes wild yet passionate with a cheshire-cat grin. His lips and jaw are soaked, glistening under the dim light. You feel your entire body motionless. He withdraws his fingers, licking them off one by one, he moves up your body and pushes his fingers between your lips. You swirl your tongue around them feverishly. Your cheeks unnaturally warm and heart thrumming fast against your ribcage. 
He pulls his fingers out, gently cupping the underside of your chin, he rolls his hips. Your breath catches at the feel of his cock against your sopping core, you squeeze his shoulders, nails leaving crescent moons on his skin. 
Mike doesn’t bother to remove his clothes, instead, he slides his hand between your bodies and under his pants, pulling out his dripping cock, he aligns himself with your core. He pushes into you inch by inch, the sounds you make getting louder and louder—Mike covers your mouth with his hand. “‘Gotta keep silent,” he breathes into your skin. 
You nod frantically, your gasp bouncing off of his palm when he bottoms out. A loud groan escapes his lips, eyes meeting yours as his lips part. At the sight you clench around him, a fresh gush of wetness coating his cock.
Mike moves slowly inside you, finding a deep, rhythmic, steady rhythm that carries you towards bliss. His hips sway sensually, his thrusts pushing against the deepest parts of you. His hands tangle into your hair, and his eyes meet yours with a softened gaze. His breath is at your neck, and a guttural moan escapes his lips as he moves against you.
“Does—Does it feel good?” you whimper.
“Feels amazing,” he breathes into your open mouth, hips drilling into you, relentless. “You’re so fucking wet—” 
He guides both of your hands up your chest to your breasts, holding them subtly as you both explore each other’s bodies, his lips finding your neck and shoulders. Your fingers begin to move deftly over your hardened nipples. 
Breaking eye contact, he moves his lips down your neck, pressing them against your collarbone. His hips move faster now, and his hands roam over your body. You squeeze your breasts as a wave of pleasure washes over you, spilling out uncontrolled moans and cries that are subdued by his mouth above yours. He swallows the sounds you make. 
He presses himself in deeper, hips slamming into yours, you feel yourself quickly barreling to the edge. Your eyes tear up and his hand slips away from your mouth, down to your waist. You claw at his back, your toes curling. Mike breathes heavily against your skin, and his thrusts grow desperate. You lock eyes with him one last time before you come undone in his arms, your orgasm crashing around him—He quickly pulls out, making your breath hitch painfully at the loss of contact, he comes over your stomach. Cock sliding over the sweat-soaked skin. 
“Shit,” he grunts. “Fuck—That. . . that felt amazing.” 
Before you can answer he kisses you deeply. His tongue dances above yours, his hips still softly rolling as his cock softens. “Don’t go,” he whispers into your mouth, kissing you again. “Please don’t go.” 
You thread your fingers into the damp locks that are scattered over the back of his head, you tug gently, his eyes fluttering for a moment, a puff of air sensually leaving his lips. 
“I won’t,” you answer, nipping the corner of his chin. “Not sure I could even if I tried.” 
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sameschmidtdiffname · 15 days
Text
Wool Over My Eyes
Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader
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Summery: Mike always says you have such trouble getting up in the morning. You don't intend to take so long to wake, but Mike is quite confident the solution lays just at his fingertips- and lips.
Tags: No use of Y/N, no use of gendered pronouns, no genitalia specification, light bondage, pet names, dirty talk, fingering, oral (reader recieving), cum swallowing, morning sex, light breeding kink, recording sex, dacryphillia, light choking, switch! Mike, switch! Reader, facial, age-gap, interrupted sex, barely proofread and over the course of three days after my shifts right before I went to bed (cuz we die like men)
Notes: I love you gullible fucks.
"C'mere here, sweet thing."
I groan as Mike rolls me onto my side, his lips finding my cheek that has been textured from the blanket that imprinted itself upon my skin as I slept restlessly through the night. It had only been a couple hours ago that I'd finally found sleep, and it doesn't even feel like five minutes since I'd actually sunk into it.
"Five more minutes," I groan, my words slurred with sleep as I press my back further against Mike's intoxicatingly warm and inviting front, hardly even noticing anything else about my surroundings as I begin to drift back into sleep once more.
"You said five minutes an hour ago," Mike gently chides into my ear, his voice almost a full octave lower and rough with his own sleep, probably. My hand automatically raises to swipe lazily at his lips which graze so lightly against the shell of my ear, his breath tickling my skin enough to irritate my tired mind. "It's time to wake up."
"Mm," I moan in a somewhat childlike manner. He chuckles at this, his lips once more finding my cheek as his hands begin to peel the blanket away from me, slowly exposing my chest mostly.
"Don't," I groan in a soft, high voice, the cold air of the room beginning to stiffen certian parts of my body. Such as my back, shoulders.
"Be nice," Mike chuckles as his lips trail lazily closer to my own, his hand satisfied with how exposed my body is now and beginning to reverse its trail, now grazing his fingertips gently along the soft cotton of my shirt that still keeps my chest covered.
"Make me," I try to snap, too drugged with sleep to carry any venom in my voice.
Mike's lips find mine in an instant, his tongue diving into my mouth as he suddenly moves his hand to my hair, tugging at it almost harshly as a small whine escapes me from the sudden aggression. He moans into the kiss, his other hand wrapping around my throat ever so gently as our lips slide together, slick with his spit, making me pant against his kiss.
"Don't make me be the bad guy," Mike says against my lips when he pulls away for a moment. His head ducks down to tease at my neck, biting into it softly before he returns to my mouth, slipping his tongue inside of it once more and moaning loudly as he does.
Our kisses are not graceful, I'll admit. They're messy, hard, wet with thick desire as his hand trails to and from my neck, spreading across my chest until his calloused hand eventually dives under my shirt, searching for a stiff nipple to play with as he pulls away from me once more, his eyes glazed with want and desperation as he watches me closely, a lazy smile upon his lips.
"Make those pretty sounds for me," Mike pleads breathily as he pinches particularly hard on my nipple. A short gasp escapes me, my cheeks turning red as my eyes flutter shut once more.
"Hey," Mike says in a firmer voice, lips quickly sealing onto mine once more as his tongue slips against mine needingly before he quickly pulls away. "Stay awake."
"I am awake," I pout softly. He tugs on my nipple again, forcing a small cry from me as he bites my bottom lip.
"Don't lie," Mike warns in a low, rough, almost growling voice. "You know I hate it when you lie."
It's not a lie!... Though admittedly I could see how it would be easy to slip into such bliss as Mike uses me. It's a somewhat arousing thought, the idea of him fucking me to sleep.
"I'm recording, you know," Mike teases as his other hand slips from my hair to the other side of my chest, both of my nipples now being abused by the older man as I pant openly, my hips finding his thick thigh between my legs. "Figured I could use the proof that you just don't like waking up in the morning to see if you'll finally listen to me."
"I listen to you," I protest. His nails scratch my nipples, making me loudly cry out at the touch.
"I said. Don't. Lie," Mike reminds me. "God, its like you want to be punished."
The idea makes my legs pull together in want, my hips dragging deliciously against Mike's thigh as I moan openly, wanting for nothing more than what he'd just suggested.
"You like that, pretty toy?" Mike asks softly against my ear, his teeth nipping at my lobe while one of his hands roughly grabs my chest, the other hand swirling his thumb in quick circles around my aching nipple. Fuck, Jesus. I could cum like this and I wouldn't protest.
"Maybe I just won't touch you," Mike says low in my ear, his voice predatory as I quicken my hips against his thigh which presses harder against me. "You seem to be eager to cum just like this. So easy, so fun to play with."
Mike shoves his tongue into my mouth once more, his hands shifting. One to my throat, one to my hip. He guides my body to quicken its pace against him, his hand occasionally smacking hard against my ass and even playing with the muscle as his eyes drift open to watch me.
"You like being my favorite toy, don't you?" Mike asks in a tired, low and aroused voice as he smirks. I nod slowly, stupid and sleepy against him. Mike smacks my ass again, grabbing and jiggling it roughly after. "Open your eyes when I'm talking to you," he commands. Stupidly I obey, eager to please him as I begin to feel my stomach constrict in pleasure at his touch.
"There you go. Good plaything. You're just so eager to please, aren't you?" Mike asks in a patronizing tone, leaning forward to graze his lips against mine. I move to press harder against them, but he pulls away, still leaving them close enough to tease me, waiting for me to try to swoop in again, then pulling away far enough I whine as I realize his evil game.
"You like older men playing with you, admit it," Mike says in a cocky tone, his hand dipping under my sweatpants to play with my bare ass. I moan in response to his words and his touch, but it doesn't seem to be enough.
"Say it," Mike orders softly, smiling at the sight of me. I blush, shaking my head slightly as I glance away. Mike grabs my ass roughly again, pressing his thigh harder against me as the look in his eye shifts to something slightly darker. "Say it."
I shake my head again, an unwilling smile growing more as Mike grabs harder, leaning in close enough to whisper threateningly, but ready to pull away if I dared to take advantage of the opportunity and kiss him.
"I like older men playing with me," I say in a soft, quick whisper before he can make another threat. His eyes turn gentle once again, and he drags me into another kiss, sweet and loving while he begins to shift his body to hover above mine, moving his thigh much to my displeasure.
"Look at that," Mike praises softly. "You can be so good when you want to be, can't you?"
Mike leans down to press his lips against my neck, biting roughly into it and making me cry out. He stays there for almost a minute, ensuring that there will be a dark bite mark obvious on my skin for the next week before he moves to the other side of my neck, repeating this process. I squirm underneath of him, moaning and crying out pathetically. His hard cock grazes against my leg, and once he finds it he begins to grind against it, releasing his own soft noises as he begins to lap at my blooming marks with his warm, wide tongue.
"Fuck me!" I whine against Mike's ear, nipping at his lobe and panting openly as my hand descends downwards, my fingers just brushing past the waistband of my pants when his own hand carefully but tightly grabs my wrist, moving to pin it just above my head as he uses my body to masturbate.
Mike doesn't respond to my plea. He simply moans as his hips increase in tempo, making it obvious how close he is already. Part of me wonders if this was meant to be a reenactment of his dream last night, or if maybe he'd been fucking himself beside me as I slept for who knows how long before he finally woke me in a moment of desperation. Both ideas make me faint with want.
I use my free hand to snatch a clump of dark curls on the back of his head, pulling them roughly to force him away from my neck. The pain makes him cry out in a deliciously broken voice, his hips stuttering before resuming in a slightly increased pace as his eyes shift to meet mine, a bright red coat of blush decorating his peaceful face, creating the perfect image of such a beautiful, desperate man.
"I asked you to fuck me," I seethe, tugging harshly on his hair again, making him cry out once more. His cock twitches against my leg, then suddenly he begins trying to crawl down my body, his hands grabbing at whatever flesh he can find as he bites harshly at my being, his slick tongue quick to soothe the marks as his amber eyes watch me pleadingly, begging for praise that I don't offer to him.
Mike's hands paw at my pants, dragging them down my hips without even undoing the tight drawstring that keeps the waistline fitted to me properly. The moment I feel the cold air begin to sink into my newly exposed skin, Mike's lips are quick to warm me once again, his tongue diving between my legs as he laps greedily, moaning as he teases my entrance with it. The wet muscle probs at me, tempting me to grab his hair and shove him against me while I ride his face, but I decide instead to pet his hair in non-verbal praise, driving him wild as his blush deepens. His large hands cup my ass, raising my hips off the bed slightly and spreading my legs wider, allowing him easier access to me.
"Stop being a tease," I moan lightly, digging my hand deeper into his hair and scratching lightly at his scalp. His voice cracks as he moans, slipping his tongue into me obediently as he plays with my ass. His own hips fuck the bed, slight trembling obvious as his lashes flutter shut, spit beginning to dribble down his chin as he quickly slides his tongue out and in, swirling it around inside of me and playing with my entrance every time he slips out.
I close my own eyes, pleasure making my back stiff as I hold his head between my thighs, hyperfocusing on the feeling of him tongue fucking me, the knot in my stomach tightening with every move, big or small. The noises he makes as he eats me out are improper, through and through. His voice makes insanity inducing vibrations that spread throughout me with each pathetic, high pitched moan. The bed creeks with every thrust of his hips against the old mattress. A part of me wonders if he's being so vocal for the tape currently recording us, paranoid that the cassette player on his nightstand may not be able to hear us properly. Another part of me likes to think that he's just this into it, so driven insane by my body that he just simply can't help the noises of pleasure that escape him. The idea makes me grip his hair tighter, my hips beginning to thrust harder against his face, making his voice rise in pitch as his eyes drift open, glazed and stupid while he admires me. His nails dig into my ass, his tongue hardly moving out of me now as he fucks me.
"You like it when I fuck your face like this?" I ask him, watching his blush grow as he nods against me, his hips quickening as I thrust harder into his mouth, my thighs tightening around his head. He looks so pretty like this, so utterly desperate.
"You want me to cum on your tongue?" I ask him, tugging his hair harder. He shakes his head, swirling his tongue around inside of me, making me groan lowly. "Where should I cum then?"
Mike slips his tongue out of me quickly, raising his head slightly as he speaks. "On my face," he says sweetly before diving back between my legs, lapping greedily at my entrance while I moan.
"Oh," I drawl slowly, letting him play with me while I watch. "You want me to paint that pretty face?"
Mike moans against me, sliding his tongue into me once more as he ruts against the bed, his eyes closing once more as he puts his all into the act.
"Do you like warming me up for your cock like this?" I ask him, giggling when he dives deeper inside of me in response. "Such a good way to get me ready to breed."
This seems to do the trick for Mike, his eyes snapping open to watch me as he fucks my hole desperately, moaning and panting as his tongue slides in and out, slick noises echoing throughout the room with each movement.
My breathing hitches in my throat as I fuck his face roughly, my stomach feeling tight as my orgasm edges closer, my teeth digging into my lower lip.
"I'm not gonna last much longer," I warn Mike, thrusting harder onto his rapid tongue while one of my hands begin to play with my now neglected nipple. One of Mike's hands quickly finds the other, both of us now playing with my chest to make me whine as I edge ever close, my eyes squeezing shut as I focus on my climax, my voice ragged and high as I moan for Mike to quicken his hand. He obeys immediately, his thumbnail flicking at the hard bud while his other hand squeezes my ass, nails digging into the cheek while he moans into me. I steal a look downwards at him, locking eyes with his now possessive glare while he watches me with eager satisfaction, silently begging me to come undone onto his face. And with such a beautiful, demanding man fucking me like this, who am I to say no?
"I'm coming," I stutter as the tight knot in my stomach begins to snap. "Fuck, Jesus, I'm coming!"
Mike moans in harmony with me, eyes widening in excitement as I pull him as tight against me as I can. My own eyes flutter shut, my hand clamping down over my mouth to muffle my sharp cries, my body trembling as my muscles stiffen, pleasure ripping through me to the point I clamp my thighs tight around Mike's head, pumping into his mouth with such vigor I'm almost worried he may not be able to breathe properly. But he doesn't ask me to stop, his pants soft and desperate as his own body shakes.
The force of my orgasm takes me by surprise, relaxation kicking in hard enough that when I close my eyes, it's hard to open them again. With each tremble from the waves pulsing through me I'm coaxed back into sleep, my muscles slowly relaxing one by one, my mind shutting off, and it doesn't take long before I can hear a deep voice in my ear, whining something much too loud for my tastes.
"Mm," I groan once again. "C'mere, come cuddle with m-"
"I asked you, very politely, to stay awake," Mike whispers in my ear. My eyes flutter open, blinking rapidly to adjust once more to the morning light. "What on earth am I going to do with you?"
In Mike's hand is a small washcloth, wiping away at the leftover cum I had painted his face with. Mike's hand is rubbing my thigh as he grazes his cock over my hole, teasing me as punishment.
"I'm sorry," I say softly, a blush rising to my cheeks as I try to put on my best act of innocence so maybe he'll skip the torture and go straight to fucking me.
"No," Mike drawls, his hand inching closer. "No, I don't think you are."
The tip of Mike's cock presses against my entrance, threatening to dip in, making me moan desperately.
"Shush," Mike soothes me, wrapping his hand around my throat slowly, finger by finger. "Don't wake the rest of the house."
Mike slips his middle finger inside of me, pumping quickly and hard. I whimper quietly, which seems to be too loud for his taste.
"I said be quiet," Mike whispers patiently as he carefully squeezes my throat. I try to reach for his hair only to discover my hands have been bound to the bedframe by some sort of cloth.
"You like my tie, sweet thing?" Mike asks sweetly, slamming harder into me. I can hear the increasing volume of the smacking inside me as he fucks me with his hand, sounding so delicious as he curls his fingers just right. Mike leans in closer, running his tongue over the bottom of my lip before shoving it inside of my mouth to claim me once again. I moan loudly, giving in fully to desire as he has his way with me. Mike pulls away instantly, choking me hard enough my airflow is slightly restricted. His ring finger slips inside of me right before he begins to slam inside of me with all of his strength, making me gasp pathetically while he ruins my tightening hole, my legs trembling as I arch my back, pressing against his smooth tie. I wrap the longer end around my palm, tugging at it in desperation. Mike bites down on my neck again, and I'm about to cry out when the doorbell buzzes throughout the living room, making us both jolt in surprise at the sudden interruption.
"No, no, no, no!" I whine, my eyes wide as I feel Mike thrust into me one final time as hard as he can before pulling away, leaving me empty and trembling while he stands from the bed. "Come back, come back!"
Mike looks cocky and pleased with himself while he pulls a sweater on over his head, glancing back over his shoulder at me for just a second.
"Just go back to sleep, sweetheart. I'll handle it," he coos like an asshole.
"B-but I'm not- we-"
Mike is out the door before I can protest, our unexpected guest buzzing once more in clear irritation at the slow response to their arrival. Who the fuck even is it? It's hardly even seven!
Disappointed and frustrated, I slump against the bed, clearly pouting as I hear Mike open the front door. And Abby is slipping out of her room now too, her young voice muffled through the walls as she greets Aunt Jane, apparently.
Oh my god.
Not fucking fair!
                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤
You know, I wasn't gonna write this. I just pulled a bunch of tags out of my ass when I originally posted the fake fic, but then I decided you guys took the joke so well that you all deserved a little treat. Say 'thank you, Dani.' <3
I may be an asshole, but I'm not evil. So, I expanded my regular taglist to include the horny fucks that got trolled so they could read my bullshitted glory. You're welcome 😌 (would love to have you join the taglist full time, btw!):
@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool @laurrrelise @orchidmothh @mystargirl-interlude @freak-accident419 @fatinhadesiners06 @mrjsbunny @futureman @sleepyhutcherson @lile6969 @heartsoremania @bowerssz51 @nick-nacker @joshhutchersonsgf @kathybernice @janitorhutcherson @sofiehutch. Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3
Happy April fools day, everyone. Thanks for following, reblogging and commenting. See you next time!
                •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•
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lavenderfnafask · 1 year
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afterglow / michael afton x reader [18+]
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[contents: sub!michael, overstimulation, edging, riding, praise, begging, pet names]
wc: 942 ask box: open
“Fuck, fuck,” Michael whined under your feather light touch, shaking from the overstimulation you put him through that just wasn’t enough to satisfy him. He hadn’t cum once yet in all the time you’d been toying with him, bringing him closer and closer but never letting him go. Glassy tears welled up in his perfect blue eyes, threatening to fall as you kissed him gently.
“Pretty boy,” you hummed against his lips, drawing out another adorable sound from the man under you. “Such a mess for me and I’m hardly touching you.”
“Please,” he whispered, his hips bucking immediately as your hand wrapped around his dick. He had been so good for you, listening to every word you said and never arguing against it. His mind was focused on bringing you pleasure, yet now he just couldn’t hold back anymore. If you went on teasing and edging him like this, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take it before it became painful. 
You rubbed the head in your palm as he cried of sensitivity, kissing along his jawline and up to his ear where you whispered, “Wanna cum, Michael?”
His head nodded furiously and he clung onto you as much as you would let him, his brown locks sticking to his forehead with sweat. You were like a lifeline to him, the only thing he had to ground himself in an ocean of pleasure, he would do absolutely anything to be saved from the seemingly endless cycle. 
Your hand left his cock and came to your own entrance instead, using the precome to slick your hole before you positioned yourself above him. “I’ll let you cum if you’ll do it inside me, you can do that, can’t you sweetheart?”
His eager eyes fixated between where you were merely inches away from his lap and your piercing gaze, unable to decide which he wanted to focus on more as he confirmed, “Yes, yes I can, please I-I’ll do anything, I’ll be so good like I have been- please love, oh my god-”
You smirked at his begging, his british accent came out so thickly in his words when he was desperate to get fucked. Truthfully, you wanted him inside you as much as he wanted to be there, but for the sake of your little game you pretended this was all for him. This was his reward, you lining yourself up with his cock and slowly sliding down on it so he could feel the drag of your walls against his skin. He cried out your name as you seated yourself fully, panting while trying to hold still since you hadn’t told him it was okay to move. 
Without any warning, you began to ride him at a pace that pleased you, a rhythmic pace that had Michael moaning and unable to speak a coherent sentence. His hips tried to match yours, meeting on each thrust to be as deep inside of you as possible while his orgasm built steadily. 
“Love, I’m- I, it’s too much, I can’t,” he begged, his hands gripping your thighs both as an attempt to hold himself back and convince you to slow down. But this was his reward, didn’t he remember what you said? 
Ever the pleaser, Michael wouldn’t let himself go until you told him so, and you were busy chasing your own high. His hands on your thighs only encouraged you, and you struggled to sound dominant through your sounds of pleasure, “Mh- cum, pretty boy, cum for me.”
That was all it took for him to reach his peak, his hips falling out of rhythm as they thrust into you out of reflex. Again, your name fell from his lips like a prayer as he saw stars and finally came with a string of loud moans. You felt it inside your core, the sensation bringing you closer to your own climax and you praised him endlessly, “Good boy, oh god, Mike, so good for me- you feel so fucking good,”
You sped up your pace, recognizing that your partner wouldn’t be immune for long as he began to recover from his orgasm. All you needed was that final push, just a little bit more to get the heat building inside you to release, and Michael seemed to read your mind. He whined to get your attention, and you looked down at his face to see his ethereal fucked out expression as he sighed, “C’mon, love.” 
His words had you tightening around him in an instant, a vigorous climax washing over you as your hips stilled and you rode the wave of pleasure. You heard the man underneath you whimper at the sudden stimulation, but both of you were grinding your hips together while you came down from that insane high. When you lifted off of him and rolled to lay beside him on the bed, he turned and captured you in a deep and passionate kiss. 
“Oh god, I love you so much,” Michael laughed slightly as you parted for air, still needing to catch your breath. 
“I take it you enjoyed that, then.” You smiled back at him and gave him a few quick pecks, “I love you too, Mike. You were wonderful for me, my sweet boy.” 
He gazed at you with hearts in his eyes, holding your tired body against his. One of you would have to get up and grab something to clean up with, but for just a moment you wanted to bathe in the bliss of the afterglow.
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hellishjoel · 5 months
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every rose has its thorns
1.6k / pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader
← masterlist | notifications blog
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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!
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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.” 
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hellishjoel masterlist | notifications blog
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redskull199987 · 5 months
Note
Maybe Mike with a reader who works at the daycare Abby goes to and he has a crush on her, when Abby, shows him who her favorite teacher (?) / daycare worker she likes fem reader pls
Heat Above
Mike Schmidt x fem!reader Request: Word Count: 1.2k Warnings:all fluffy basically. there is literally nothing to say here Summary:You never thought about becoming a daycare attendant, but here you were. Drawing together with a small girl, who told you all day long about her brother. Until you finally got to meet him… Masterlist
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You never thought, you’d end up where you were right now. It hadn’t been your dream, nor had it been the thing you thought about when you were younger. It was just never on your page.
But here you were. A daycare attendant in a small dozy city, no one had ever heard of. It had never been your desire, but over the years, you had learned to adore the children who came in while their family couldn’t watch them. You had learned to appreciate the small things. For example when a child told you that they enjoyed playing with you, or that you were their favorite attendant. It always put a smile on your face, to see so many kids being delighted by the simplest things.
And those things often included drawing and sketching with the children. But one kid in particular always asked you to draw with her. The young girl you had come to known as Abby Schmidt always came running into your arms, the second she stepped foot into the daycare. And you always knew you were going to spend the rest of your day drawing with her and other children. Abby often told you about her friends and you loved to ask her questions about them, letting her come up with the most imaginative stories you had ever heard from a child.
“You know, you should meet my brother sometime.”, Abby mentioned one afternoon, while you sat with her on a small table by the window. She had been doodling for a while, but not wanting to show you what it was.
“Yeah?”, You asked with a small smile,”What’s he like?”
Abby looked up from her drawing for a second, figuring out what to say:”He sleeps most of the time. But he’s a good guy. He always protects me and is there for me.”
“You’re right.”, you agreed with her,”He does sound like a good guy. An awesome brother on top.”
“Sometimes he’s annoying.”, Abby said nonchalantly, without looking up from her drawing,”But I think he would like you.”
“You think so?”, you asked with furrowed brows, trying to remember what her brother looked like. You were pretty sure, you had seen him bring her in once or twice.
“Yeah.”, Abby nodded,”I like you, so he’ll like you too.”
You could only chuckle at her answer and lovingly ran a hand through her hair, ruffling it all out of place. Abby gave you a short look of annoyance, before her face broke and a fit of giggles escaped her.
“Now, You finally wanna show me what you drew there?”, You asked, a smile still present on your face.
She nodded strongly and pushed her pens away from the drawing before handing it to you. Your heart bloomed with joy as you realized that it was a drawing of her and you on the small table you were currently sitting at. Both of you were drawing on the picture, a big smile on your faces.
“This is beautiful, Abby.”, You smiled. Abby beamed up at you, before getting up from her chair and walking over to give you a hug. You quickly embraced the small girl, but nearly got a heart attack when she screamed into your ear.
“Mike!! You’re here already!”, Abby shouted happily. She quickly entangled herself from you and you watched how she ran over to a young man, probably your age. When You saw his face, You knew that you had seen him before.
So this was the ominous brother. 
You just looked at the two of them for a second, while Abby hugged her big brother, telling him of her day. You watched her rambling on with a smile on your face. But then you realized that Mike wasn’t looking at his sister. He was looking at you. His low gaze lingered on your face for a second longer, before he realized that he had been caught. 
You swiftly looked away too, an unknown heat rising to your cheeks. What had just happened?
Your thoughts were interrupted, when you heard Abby, calling you over to her and Mike.
You quickly got up and walked over to them. Your gaze was on Abby first as she gave you a wide grin, before you finally looked up at Mike, only to realize that his big chocolate brown eyes were already looking at you.
“Hy.”, You said shily, holding your hand out to him. Mike looked at you a bit perplexed for a second, before he seemed to break out of his trance, grabbing your hand and giving it a firm shake.
“Hey.”, he smiled,”I’m Mike, Abby’s brother.”
“Yeah, I've heard quite a bit about you already”, You chuckled bashfully.
Mike gave you a timid look:“Only good things I hope”
“Well, basically just that you sleep a lot.”, You mumbled, looking to the ground.
“You two are insufferable.”
Both You and Mike looked at each other for a second, before turning your heads to look at Abby with furrowed brows. The small girl looked back and forth between the two of you, before an annoyed groan left her lips:”And? Will you go out with each other?!
You immediately felt the heat rising back to your cheeks and you looked away from the two of them for a second. You could see that Mike wasn’t doing any better. His cheeks were clearly reddened and he nervously brushed a hand through his hair.
“I’m sorry. S-She doesn’t know what she's talking about…Miss…?”, Mike tried to explain his little sister.
“L/N. But Y/N is fine.”, You explained with a small smile. You didn’t know what came to you, but in a boost of confidence, you turned around to Abby:”Why don’t you go grab your jacket, Abby? While the grown-ups talk a bit.”
Abby gave you a knowing grin before she nodded and took off to get her stuff.
“Once again, I’m sorry about her. She really doesn’t know when to shut up.”, Mike mumbled. 
“It’s alright”, You smiled,”And besides, she isn’t wrong.”
Mike looked at you perplexed, but you only grabbed his sleeve, pulling him to one of the tables. He didn’t protest and you took that as a good sign. You grabbed a small piece of paper and swiftly scribbled down your phone number, before handing it to Mike:”You know, in case you need a babysitter…or someone to meet up with.”
Mike gave you a soft smile, while he put the paper into his pocket:”Do you have time this weekend?”
“I’m off at five.”, You answered, as the two of you walked towards the exit, where Abby was already waiting.
“I’ll call you.”, Mike uttered. You could only nod at him, as you reached Abby. The small girl grabbed Mike’s hand and with a few small goodbyes, the two of them were out of the door. 
You looked after them for a second and while Abby was already rambling on again, Mike turned around once more, giving you a gentle smile and a wave. You quickly waved back at him, before they reached his car.
With a rapidly beating heart, you finally close the door of the daycare. You couldn’t believe it. You had a date on Friday.
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New Meat
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Pairing: Mike Schmidt x Reader
Warnings: mentions of weed, reader is definitely unphased by the whole ghost kids controlling animatronics things, i'm sorry i just had to, i've watched that fucking movie over six times now, it's a disease, i don't understand why i'm being pulled back into my fnaf days, more to come most likely, piereced!reader
Words: 1187
Summary: You train Mike in being a Fazbear Security Guard.
Susie
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Mike didn't really know what to expect for this security job. Mr. Raglan said the owner was sentimental and that was why the place hadn't been demolished yet.
At least he would be paid. The first night he wouldn't even be alone either. There would be someone to train him on the night shift. A veteran Fazbear security guard that has been working there for a little more than a year. A record, Raglan exclaimed in reverence.
What kind of person would work at such a shitty job for that long? Must be as desperate as he was for employment. Beggars really couldn't be choosers.
Making sure Abby was set with Max, Mike made sure to show up at least fifteen minutes before his shift started. When he tries for the front door, there are chains that prevent him from opening it.
"Around the corner."
He jumps at the tired voice. You slump your shoulder against the corner of the building and watch him. "You'll want to enter from the backdoor." You offer him a wan smile. Underneath your heavy 'security' jacket was a metal band t-shirt. Piercings line the curve of both of your ears, studs and rings alike. A weary shadow is cast under your eyes.
You hold your hand out to him in introduction. "Nice to meet you Mike."
When he grabs your hand to shake he finds it shockingly cold.
Mike follows you as you give him the grand tour of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzaria. The main stage held three, tall animatronics. A smaller cove, you explained, housed the animatronic known as 'Foxy'. A spare closet room housed crumpled, metal forms in various stages of disassemble. More than anything in the restaurant that was the one room that really had Mike's skin crawling. Something about it didn't feel right.
Every step you take, Mike notices something bobbing along your leg. Initially he thought it was your flashlight but you held it in your hand. When you entered the lit security room, Mike finally realizes it's a large taser hanging from your utility belt.
You catch his eying and show him the taser. "I'll leave this with you for tonight."
Incredulously holding it in his hand, he feels it's heavy weight. "Is this really necessary?"
"You never know who you'll encounter here at night. Could be an aggressive tweeker or something. . . worse." Your voice trails off. "Keep it on you at all times. Trust me."
Wearily you rub at your eyes and collapse into one of the computer chairs in the security room while Mike takes the other. He leans back against the chair's weak support. You were scheduled to stay and help Mike the rest of the night shift. Then tomorrow night you'd finally be able to get some relatively good sleep. You've been awake for far too long. Feeling rather shitty, you grab for you bag of Red Vines to fill the dullness. There was little possible the Fazbear gang would act up tonight. They stayed quiet when it was someone's first night. Like they were trying to feel out the new security guard. You gave them a talk before Mike had shown up.
Really, it was Bonnie and Carl that you were worried about the most. They were particularly aggressive and wouldn't hesitate to take a chunk out of the new guy.
Eyes leisurely moving to check the cameras just to be on the safe side.
Vanessa told you that Mike wasn't allowed to know the truth. Her father instructed the both of you that much via phone call. Plus after having worked there for some time now, you knew better. William Afton wasn't someone you wanted to disobey.
But it ate away at you. The longer you were around him, the more guilty you felt for not screaming 'Run! Get out of here and don't come back!'
Many other night shift security guards have come and gone; either quitting or being killed by the animatronics. Only you have been able to survive past your fifth night.
You had an advantage though that the others didn't. One that made them more docile around you.
"Hey, if you want to leave early then go ahead." Mike says out of nowhere after some time basking in the silence. "I think I got it."
You shake your head. "I need the hours." His offer was tempting. They were shitty hours with even shittier pay but any little bit helped. Just enough so you could afford to go to college. Receive a degree and maybe get out of your little town.
That answer didn't seem to be the one he was looking for as he anxiously runs his tongue over his lower lip in contemplation.
Eyebrow arching, you tilt your head in puzzlement. He made it obvious he wanted you gone. You felt like you should take offense to that. Maybe you came off as too uncaring. Positive it wasn't your body odor. While your dietary needs were lacking you made an effort to be as hygienic as you could. When you work double shifts (which is often) you tend to sleep in your car. It worked out fairly well when you put down your back seat and cushion the bottom.
Nowadays Freddy Fazbear's felt more like a home than your actual apartment.
Mike just slumps in his chair.
"You'll be in for a long night if you don't at least bring something as entertainment."
"What do you do?" He asks after a moment.
You open up your backpack and show him the overstuffed contents, including a strong stench of marijuana.
Word searches. Crossword puzzles. An embroidery hoop with plastic bag of different colored threads. Two books. Mike could see the stitching of your backpack beginning to tear. He pulls out what he thought was a notebook but it was actually a Mad Libs. At that he glances up at you.
You shrug. You couldn't just tell him that the animatronics loved them. He wouldn't understand.
Placing your backpack back onto the floor, you go back to your licorice.
"You're allowed to smoke this here?" He gestures with his head to where you kept your weed supply kit.
"'Course not but you really think the boss stops here to check? I've never met the guy. Just spoken with him over the phone." You zip up your bag and push it under the desk.
Now Mike is staring suspiciously at you. "And you don't fall asleep?"
It makes you roll your eyes. "Relax newbie. Besides checking the cameras frequently, this job is a breeze. And believe it or not, when I'm high, I'm incredibly productive. I wouldn't recommend you taking drugs during your shift though. You're still new. At least get a hang of things before you start fucking off."
You couldn't help but add "Also- if any of them give you trouble, just tell them that you know me."
His brows furrow. "Them?"
He wouldn't believe you even if you told him everything. What sane person would?
Sighing, you reach into your jacket pocket for the playing cards you had. "You know how to play 'War'?"
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tenpintsof-sundrop · 6 months
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IM SO GLAD YOURE WRITING FOR MIKE ! And I cannot wait to read the up coming fic !
The full fic is now POSTED!!!
I am really excited to be writing for him! He's such a fun and interesting character. And right from the first time I saw the FNAF trailer, I said to myself "I am gonna get so autistic writing fanfiction about that guy" and here I am 😂
And because you're excited about it, here is a small sneak peek of the upcoming fic. The warnings for it are - Sub!Mike Schmidt, mentions of orgasm restriction, mentions of masturbation, mentions of a cock cage. I think that's it? But the warnings for the full fic are going to be much more expansive lmao
Picture Perfect - Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader (Sneak Peek)
...
“I didn’t say anything about your dick.” You said, tone harsh and biting. You dropped your towel casually, moving to get dressed, and this caused a whine from him as your nakedness was once again revealed - something he had seen so many times now that still caused his cock to throb and weep precum, his eyes utterly fixated on on the tantalizing sway of your breasts as you leaned down to hook your feet into the fresh panties you had picked out. “You don’t get to cum right now. I said get dressed, so get dressed.” 
Mike let out a breathy whine, but took his hand off his cock. He looked at you with utterly pleading eyes, but you wouldn’t budge from the subject. When he didn’t make a move to get up from the bed, you said something that you knew would put some urgency in him. 
“Don’t make me get the cage.” You threatened quietly. 
Mike was up in a moment, moving toward the bathroom to freshen up, eager to follow your instructions. His dick ached at the thought of the cock cage that you had gotten just for him, and he spent some days with his dick trapped in, resenting the key worn around your neck that nobody else had any clue what it led to.
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sundrop-writes · 5 months
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Damn The Man, Save The Empire
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(Dark)Dom!Vanessa Shelly x Sub!GN!Reader
Heaven is a place we can't afford.
Summary:
Vanessa has always taken care of you.
Since the two of you were kids, she has put her neck on the line for you, and you rarely knew how to return that epic kindness. One night, while both of you are raw and on-edge, the dark cloud of your strange past looming over both of you nearly swallows both of you whole - and once again, Vanessa is right there, taking care of you.
(Dark)Dom!Vanessa Shelly x Sub!Gender Neutral Reader. Toxic Co-Dependent Relationship. Smut and Angst. Takes place before the main timeline of the film (features spoilers for the movie).
Word Count: 6,100
Horror Characters Masterlist | AO3 Link
Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: This fic contains major spoilers for the film (even though it takes place before the main bulk of the film) - if you haven’t seen the movie yet and you want to watch it spoiler-free, be cautious; general toxic relationship - the two main characters have a very toxic relationship; there is a power imbalance in the relationship due to one of the characters being a police officer; both of the main characters have a lot of childhood trauma and they show it in their actions; there is underlying dom/sub dynamics - the reader is submissive and Vanessa is dominant; somewhat dubious consent - the whole interaction starts out as an argument rather than something explicitly sexual, but the reader still enjoys it the whole time (one of those safe, consensual, but not ‘sane’ situations). The reader’s gender is completely ambiguous - the only pronouns used for the reader are you/yours, and the reader’s genitals are described in a way that could be interpreted as the character being amab or afab, no specific gendered terms are used; mentions of the reader having sex with someone who is not Vanessa (a random unnamed man); mentions of the reader having sex in the back of someone’s car and being caught by a police officer who is not Vanessa (and then being passed off to Vanessa); dark!Vanessa, jealous!Vanessa, possessive!Vanessa (she hates that the reader had sex with someone else earlier that night).
The reader and Vanessa have been friends since childhood; mention of the reader drinking/ingesting alcohol - not enough to impair consent or impair the general senses; the reader calls Vanessa ‘Ness’ or ‘Nessa’ as a nickname; technically, Vanessa does ‘arrest’ the reader (she doesn’t bring the reader into a police station or file any official paperwork); Vanessa puts the reader in handcuffs in a non-sexual way, and later those handcuffs are used for sexual bondage; use of Y/N (and L/N, meaning Last Name); mention of the reader character stealing and doing other petty crimes; mentions of Vanessa’s childhood trauma - her father murdering children and forcing her to help cover it up (implications that she also participated in the killings in some way); the reader witnessed one of the killings as a child and has also kept it a secret; somewhat graphic descriptions of murder/a child being killed.
Some manhandling but nothing that would insist that Vanessa has inhuman strength; hair-pulling - kind of in a sexy way, kind of in a violent way; Vanessa literally steps on the reader (again, kind of violent, kind of sexy) - some breath restriction due to being stepped on; general pain kink; the characters in this fic have a poor attitude toward casual hook-ups; there is a hand on the neck but no purposeful choking (very little restriction of breath); nipple play - Vanessa painfully tugs the reader’s nipple; something like subspace is described, but the word ‘subspace’ isn’t specifically used; slight inspection kink; spanking - on the reader’s thighs and on the reader’s genitals; Vanessa calls the reader ‘brat’; a lot of this could be seen as brat-taming/brat tamer!Vanessa; Vanessa uses her hand on the reader - because the reader’s genitals are not described, this could be interpreted as a handjob or fingering (but there are no mentions of penetration); Vanessa fucks herself against the reader’s thigh; Vanessa edges the reader (once); asking permission to orgasm; biting/marking kink; I believe that's finally everything.
A/N: This fic is named after a Pierce The Veil song of the same name. I definitely recommend listening to the song, because the lyrics fit with this fic so so well. A very large part of her characterization in this is informed by the 'if you bring Abby back here again, I will shoot you' moment from the movie - rage fuelled by compassion and love and protectiveness for another person. I really love that part and I think it's such an interesting aspect to her character. Also, I put a lot of thought into making this completely gender neutral, making sure the reader could be interpreted as amab or afab, so I hope that everyone enjoys it! Also - I know that it might be weird for Vanessa's nickname in this fic to be 'Ness' because that's the name of Matpat's diner character (named after a character in one of his theories??) but I think it's a cute nickname, and if I actually knew her, that's what I would call her. So I am going off the idea that neither of the characters in this fic know Ness the diner waiter, and the reader has just always called Vanessa 'Ness'. So - yeah.
...
“Get in the car.” Vanessa barked - the pure anger and annoyance in her voice echoed through the night. 
You hated that it brought you a certain kind of warped joy. 
She put a hand flat on your back, between your shoulder blades, and roughly shoved you toward the back bumper of her police cruiser. 
You purposefully walked slower, just to mock her, and she let out a harsh sigh. You bit your lip to hold back a grin. At this point in your lives, this was just the nature of your relationship with your best friend. You didn’t just get under her skin, you lived there. 
“God, I can’t believe you!” She shouted. “Public indecency? You’ve gotten in shit for some pretty stupid things, but having sex in the back of some random asshole’s car-?!” 
“The back of someone’s car should not be considered ‘public’!” You argued, laughter edging on your voice. 
It was difficult to take things seriously when you knew that the consequences wouldn’t be too severe. Vanessa always swooped in to save you. She would just bring you home, scold you a bit. But she wouldn’t do anything that would leave a lasting mark. 
“Did you even know the guy you were fucking? Did you even use a fucking condom?” She screeched at you. 
Did you know the guy? Sort of. Did you use a condom? Yes, you did. 
But you were in the mood to annoy Vanessa even more. 
You shrugged. “Why does it matter? Your stupid cop friend interrupted us before we could even finish, so-” 
“Ugh, get in the car!”
She was lucky that Officer Lamontange had been on duty, and he owed her a favor. Anybody else would have slapped a pair of cuffs on you and hauled you to the station without a second thought. You’d be in processing by now, and you’d be in jail for the next few weeks before they could even get you a public defender. 
But that was you and Vanessa. You fucked up, she stuck her neck out for you. This was probably going to be one time too many. This was going to be the one that got her fired. She had already been warned about letting you off, performing ‘special favors’. 
“Get in the car!” You repeated back, mocking her voice in a silly way before you let out a chuckling howl. 
So what? You liked to party. So what? Those parties got a little out of control. 
It’s not your fault some uptight suburban yuppies called the cops on you for having fun. You didn’t even know that having an ‘open container’ of booze and having sex in the back of someone’s car was illegal anyway. Live and learn. 
“God, how much have you had to drink?” Vanessa gritted through her teeth, low and full of breath, the way she always did when she was angry. 
It was something that made your stomach twist and made you far dizzier than the alcohol did. You weren’t sure if it was from lust - from your underlying attraction toward her, or if it was from fear. Perhaps a bit of both. 
“Let me smell your breath.” She demanded. 
Truthfully, you hadn’t had that much to drink. One or two sips from a bottle, enough to get you a bit buzzed. You had been planning on having more later. But you were in a nagging mood, and didn’t want to give into her so easily. 
“Ness, I’m not a fucking teenager-” You argued, still facing away from her as you trudged toward the car with lazy steps. 
She put a hand on your elbow and whipped you around with a surprising strength, forcing you to face her. She was tight in your personal space before you could blink, and instinctively, you clamped your mouth closed and held your breath - though you knew that the smell of Jack Daniels would be apparent coming off your nose and lips whether you breathed on her or not. 
“You’re not a teenager anymore, but you’re sure as fuck acting like one.” She said harshly. 
You finally released your breath, giving another laugh and a shrug. 
“At least I know how to have fun.” You argued, entirely careless about the situation. 
You expected that you would get into the front seat of the car and she would drive you home. She’d probably make you drink some water before tucking you into bed, and you would fall asleep to her giving you a long lecture about responsibility. She would come by in the morning with coffee and bagels (despite the stereotypes about cops, Vanessa was not much of a donut person). 
But instead of partaking in this predictable routine, Vanessa surprised you with her next move. 
She put a hand in the middle of your back and shoved you toward the car again. This time you were closer - your stomach landed against the back bumper, and you let out a small grunt as you collided with it. You turned your head over your shoulder to question her, but before you could get any words out, she pulled one of your forearms to the middle of your back and you felt cold steel on your wrist. 
“Y/N L/N, you’re under arrest for Public Intoxication and Public Indecency,” She announced, her voice deadly calm, and stern. 
“Ness, you’re seriously arresting me?” You asked, insult and scorn running through your voice. 
Her answer came in the form of her bringing your other wrist to the middle of your back - she joined it into the cuffs with the harsh, echoing grind of metal as the cuffs slid into place. 
“You have the right to remain silent-” She said, continuing to go about the routine in a very unfeeling tone. 
“You have the right to fuck off.” You bit back bitterly. 
“Anything you say can and will be used against you-” 
“Is that everything I’ve ever told you from when we were kids, or is that just starting now?” You asked, feeling spite rise up in you. 
“Will you ever learn to shut up?” She replied with a sarcastic, spiteful question of her own, and grabbed you to bring you around to the back door of the car. 
You heaved out a sigh as she opened the door. As she put a hand on the top of your head and tried to push you into the car, you resisted further. 
“Ness, seriously?” You said, hoping one last push against her would get her to take off the cuffs. 
“Just get in the car.” She repeated again, her voice entirely stern. 
You sagged, and let yourself become pliant to her motions as she guided you into the backseat. 
It wasn’t the first time you had been in the back of her police car. But it was always under other circumstances. If something else was occupying the front seat, like a large tool box or her gym bag, then she would make you sit in the back. Sometimes, if you were too drunk to sit up and she was afraid you would puke on her, then she would make you sit in the back. You found it to be a decent place to fall asleep. 
However, this was the first time you had been in the backseat in handcuffs. 
This was the first time she had officially arrested you. 
You found it uncomfortable to sit with your wrists behind your back, but you knew that was currently the least of your problems. Vanessa leaned in, reaching for the seatbelt, ready to strap you in, fiddling with it for a moment before she grunted with frustration. 
“The seatbelt back here is still broken.” She said through gritted teeth as she moved to stand at her full height outside the car. “Because someone insisted on-” 
“Oh, shut up.” You barked back. “Where else was I supposed to strap in Sir Bearrington?” 
A few weeks ago she had picked you up from a carnival. 
You had been detained by security there for stealing a large lock box of money from one of the vendors - it had been out in the open, too tempting. When you had taken it with no real plan and simply started running, you had eventually been caught by the security staff on the grounds. 
And when you had been locked up in the office, you had called Vanessa - and she had arrived to bail you out without question. Earlier in the night, you had won an oversized teddy bear and refused to give it up even when Vanessa insisted that it was stupid. 
Apparently your insistence to try and strap the bear into her back seat, the ensuing argument the two of you had over it, grabbing the seatbelt and tugging at it - had broken the seatbelt. You hadn’t been paying much attention at the time. 
“You’re not cute.” Vanessa mumbled, clearly disgruntled by the whole thing. 
She slammed the back door closed, leaving you unrestrained in the back of the car, fully prone to be injured in a car accident. Though, you supposed she didn’t care about that with how angry she was at you right now. 
She walked around to the front seat and got in, leaving the two of you in a sullen silence as she started the car and drove away. She didn’t even bother putting on the radio to buffer that silence, and you hated how much it made you feel like a child sitting in the principal’s office. 
You stared at the back of her head through the metal mesh of the cage separating the front and the back - something that supposedly kept her safe from the dangerous criminal that you were. You felt a deep bitter ache form inside of you as all of it truly set in. With the handcuffs biting into your wrists and your fingers beginning to tingle with numbness, it truly hit you. 
Vanessa wasn’t going to protect you anymore. 
“You’re seriously bringing me in?” You choked out, not intending for the hurt to come through in your voice as much as it did. 
“Yes.” Vanessa replied. “You did something wrong. You deserve to see justice.” 
“Justice?” You scoffed, shaking your head. “You sure have a funny sense of that.” 
“How so?” Vanessa asked, her voice entirely timid. 
She kept her eyes straight ahead, not daring to catch a glimpse of your disappointed face in the rearview mirror. She had a feeling that she knew what you were going to say, and she wasn’t going to like it. 
“If you had any sense of justice, you wouldn’t have begged me not to rat out your father all those years ago.” You said, your voice choked off by emotion. “I would have told everyone what I saw, and he’d be in jail. You would have gone into foster care with some other family, and you’d be miles and miles away from this shithole town. And… I’d probably be in the psych ward. Making paper crafts with some nice woman named Martha.” 
“Please don’t talk about my father.” Vanessa gritted out - it was a very tender spot for her, which was something that you already knew. 
The day you met Vanessa was one of the worst days of your life. 
It started out as a day that was entirely unassuming, at best. You had divorced parents, and when your father got you on weekends, he didn’t like to try too hard. He was the type of dad who turned on the TV and fell asleep, left you to your own devices. You liked it that way. 
That weekend, he had brought you out. Freddy Fazbear’s was a place kids could have fun, and their parents could sit back and forget about them. You liked it there - just like any other kid would. You ran around, played arcade games, ate pizza. You gawked at the animatronic band and danced to their songs. 
At one point, you ran into a shy little blond girl and she introduced herself to you as Vanessa. She told you that sometimes being at Freddy’s got boring for her because her father worked there and she was there all the time. She showed you all the best arcade games, and a hack to get a free play (unplugging them and plugging them back in, which reset them to ‘demo mode’). She even snuck behind the prize counter and got you a decoder ring that you had been admiring, but didn’t have enough tickets for. 
The two of you had the best afternoon together. And you hated it when your father shouted your name and told you that you were going home. So you told him that you needed a spare minute to say goodbye to your new friend Vanessa. And then, innocently enough - you sought her out. 
This search for her mistakenly led you into one of the back rooms.
The horrors you saw could barely be described. A Yellow Rabbit mascot missing its head. A twisted, laughing face covered in blood. A horrifically large knife plunging into a small body. Bright red, thick blood. Guts, flesh. Carnage. 
Vanessa found you just as her father spotted you out of the corner of his eye. He came at you with the bloody knife at the ready. That crazed expression on his face was the most unforgettable thing about him. Whenever you closed your eyes and thought back to that day - the expression on his face was the thing that you remembered most. 
Vanessa threw herself in front of you and begged for your life. The discussion between them that followed was a blur in your mind as your heart thumped hard between your ears. Something about ‘witnesses’ and ‘loose ends’. All you knew for certain was that Vanessa had saved your life. 
At one point, using his large, yellow mascot hand, he thrust a knife toward her, forcing it into her small fist - and he told her that it was time for her to start ‘pulling her weight’. Vanessa took you by the wrist and took you to another room. 
But you never felt afraid with her, not for a moment. 
She made you swear not to tell anyone what you had seen, and you did. And because she just didn’t have it in her to take a life, especially not yours - she let you live. 
It was too weekends later when your father brought you back to Freddy’s. 
You were excited to see Vanessa. Her father was not excited to see you. When he pulled you into one of the back rooms and berated Vanessa about why you were still ‘around’ - you finally found your courage, and told him that you ‘wouldn’t tell’. The smile he gave you was almost as horrifying as the killing had been. He patted you on the head, and said that he liked loyalty ‘in his friends’. 
The Bonnie plushie that he gave you - a kind of reward for your silence, felt tainted. You threw it away at the closest opportunity, but you kept the decoder ring. You still had it in your jewelry box, even to this day. 
Strangely enough, that wasn’t the last time you saw Vanessa. The two of you spent more and more time together, quickly becoming best friends. You were two lost children in the world, two warped branches of a tree growing to lean on each other, desperate to find the sun. You were the only person who knew all of her dark secrets and didn’t care. You were the only person around her who wasn’t dead, or didn’t fear the rumors about her after Freddy’s shut down - even after she started going by her mother’s maiden name, desperate to escape the dark shadow her father had created over her life. 
Being around Vanessa, spending more time with her - it meant that you did see her father in passing. Every time you did, it felt like seeing a ghost. It did feel like the man with the knife and the crazed expression on his face was a completely different person from the man with the thick glasses who sat across from you at the dinner table, offering you more peas and asking about how your classes were going. 
Vanessa was always the same person. She was always stubborn. She was always a champion for the innocent. She was always someone who needed intense control over every aspect of her life. You thought she would have been destined to become a social worker - but you guessed that she had seen too many broken, dead kids for a lifetime. And she liked the security of having a gun on her belt. So that’s why she became a cop. 
You became a highschool drop-out, part-time drunk, petty criminal, sex degenerate, and general failure. 
It was a real case study of the two roads that trauma corrupted people can take. If anybody were ever willing to take a closer look. 
Vanessa fuelled her anxiety and anger into going forward, charging ahead without thinking, and your anxiety and nightmares caused you to fall more and more backward by the minute. 
“How is dear old daddy, by the way?” You asked, picking at the raw nerve out of spite. “Has he missed me at family dinners?” 
“Shut up!” Vanessa barked. Then after a heavy moment, she let out another quiet, mousy sentence. “I haven’t seen him in years. You know that.” 
“Oh, but your bank account says otherwise.” You replied, a cocky tone breaching through. “The new apartment is so nice. I know you’re not bankrolling all that on a cop’s salary. What kind of dirty work does he have you doing these days?” 
Vanessa’s silence was painfully knowledgeable. 
He had sucked her back in somehow. 
“I knew that you always had a soft spot for him.” You sighed. “You probably wish he had gotten rid of me all those years ago, huh?” You mumbled quietly. “It’s not like you ever actually cared about me.” 
Of course, you were feeling hurt by her putting you in handcuffs, threatening to turn you in, something that felt like the ultimate betrayal - so the words slipped out. 
You were shocked when Vanessa slammed on the breaks and the car came to a screeching halt. It was lucky that you were on a desolate backroad with nobody else to rear-end you at the sudden stop. If not for your instincts (even while slightly inebriated) to put your foot against the cage, keeping yourself from smacking forward, then you likely would have had the harsh shape of that mesh imprinted on your cheek. 
“I never cared about you?” Vanessa asked, her voice filled with an intense, dark rage. 
You caught her eye in the rearview mirror, and save for the tears dancing on her waterline - she had a look almost identical to that same crazed look her father had worn all those years ago. You almost would have mocked her for it if you didn’t feel your stomach clenching up with fear. 
You had to remind yourself that this was your Vanessa. This wasn’t him. 
“I never cared about you?” She repeated, so utterly insulted by what you had said that she could feel her reality tearing apart. She almost could believe that you had said it. 
“Vanessa-” You choked out, calling her by her full name for the first time in so long. 
Before you could beg for mercy or apologize, she abruptly cut you off. 
“No.” She said. “Shut up.” 
The pure force of her voice sent chills through you, and this time you couldn’t help but to comply. 
You sat in a dizzying silence as she slammed on the gas pedal again, and the car went speeding off. She seemed very determined with where she was going. After a minute or two, where you were becoming increasingly light-headed from your worry, Vanessa whipped the cruiser into an empty lot - a random patch of old pavement that looked like it was on the back end of a place used to keep scrap cars. 
It was dark and secluded. Nobody would find you here. 
She turned off the car and got out, and the back door was open before you could blink. 
“Vanes-” 
You tried to speak to her again, but she reached into the back and grabbed you harshly. One hand tight in your hair, fierce, like a catty teenage fight, and the other on the collar of your crappy old band shirt. She tore your body out of the car (once again, her strength amazed you), stretching out the neck of your shirt in the process. You pattered along with your feet, struggling to keep up and whining in pain as she tugged harshly on your roots, likely pulling hair out in some places. 
You would deny that you liked the pain, especially when it was inflicted onto you by her. 
She tossed you onto the ground and the roughness of the pavement bit into your skin. You let out a sharp groan as you felt some of the skin on your elbow being scraped away.
“Ness-” 
Before you could speak, she put a hefty boot on your hip and turned you over, turning you over onto your back. She then pushed that boot into the middle of your stomach, forcing all the air out of you. With the force pushing down on you, your arms became numb as your hands got pushed into the pavement, the metal of the cuffs biting into your wrists even more now. 
You looked up the length of her body at her, admiring her like a monument in the darkness. Oddly enough, equal parts fear and lust tingled through you as you had nothing but her in your view. Your mind became hazy from the grounding weight of her boot pushing down against the middle of your body. She was a goddess - piercing blue eyes, glassy and crazed, and the swell of her breasts, tightly pressed against her blue uniform shirt, the slight of her shoulders just barely blocking out the inky blue of the night sky as she towered over you. 
You knew that she could have killed you. She could have easily shot you and left your body there, and nobody would have cared about a petty criminal fuck-up like you turning up dead. 
But in that moment, you weren’t afraid. You never had to be afraid with her. 
“Vanessa-” 
“Shut. Up.” She ground out, the words harsh through her teeth. 
She pressed her foot down slightly, causing you to moan out in pain. 
“Do not, for a moment, even begin to judge-” She almost choked on the words, grinding like harsh knives against her throat. “Do not begin to perceive how much I do or do not care about you.” She said, the words harsh and venomous in the cool air. “If I didn’t care about you, you would fucking know it.” 
You knew there was more to it, more waiting on her tongue. Words she couldn’t say. 
‘If I didn’t care about you, you wouldn’t be here right now.’ 
You were lucky to have her. You knew that. 
“I’m sorry.” You croaked out, finding it hard to breathe around the boot pressing into your diaphragm. 
Once again, this reminded you of her power over you - the way she towered over you like a proud monument. You hated the fact that even as you struggled for air, you felt a demanding need growing between your thighs. 
It certainly didn’t help that you hadn’t been able to cum earlier. Like you had said, you had been interrupted before you and your ‘friend’ (acquaintance, a random guy you kind of knew) could finish up. And although you hadn’t been expecting that to be a very satisfying sexual encounter, you were hoping for it to be distracting and take the edge off of your general horniness, at the very least. 
Now you were here - unintentionally edged and hornier than ever. 
“Yeah, I’ll show you sorry.” Vanessa muttered, that anger still ripe on her breath. 
You thought maybe she would hit you. 
It wouldn’t be the first time that the two of you had gotten into a physical fight, volatile and wonderful as your relationship was. You did think it was unfair that this time you were so unmatched, with your hands cuffed behind your back. But she surprised you when, instead of punching you, she took her foot off your stomach completely. And then she came down to straddle you, sitting on that same sore spot above your waistband where her foot had just been. 
Oh, so it was that kind of sorry. 
This wouldn’t be the first time you and Vanessa had sex either. Frankly, you should have been expecting this. 
A lot of your arguments with Vanessa ended in fistfighting - or fucking. Sometimes a combination of both. 
She glared down the length of her body at you and you were aggravated. She wasn’t sitting low enough on your waist for you to grind yourself against her, to get any good friction where you needed it most. You whined with torment and pain as more pressure, the whole weight of her body and yours was put on your cuffed wrists and they were pushed into the ground. 
Your wrists were going to be so fucked - but you tried to make that a problem for your later self. 
You squirmed helplessly, trying to get more comfortable. Vanessa put a stop to your movements with a hand around your neck, shoving your head backwards into the pavement. You instantly stilled against the tightness of her fingers, especially as she pressed into the tender point at the side of your jaw with her thumb. 
She didn’t apply any intense pressure - as long as you sat with your head back and stayed still, she only used the touch to make you pliant and trap you there. 
She put her other hand above your head and leaned down slightly, creating a looming shadow over you as she spoke. 
“Do not ever accuse me of not caring about you.” She said, her voice still painted dark with anger. “Do you think that random guy you were fucking cared about you?” 
You knew the question was a trap. 
“No.” You said, your voice the timid one now. 
“Do you think he would give a shit if you live or die?” She asked, moving her free hand to skim her knuckles across the side of your cheek - a touch so gentle that it made you shiver. “Do you think he would give his life for yours?” 
“No.” You whimpered in return, feeling that aching need between your thighs growing more hot and prominent. 
“Do you think he would even give a fuck if he made you cum or not?” 
With these words, she reached down suddenly and - with picture perfect aim, grabbed your nipple through your shirt, giving it a harsh twist. The pain shot through you, causing you to arch up against the hold she had on your neck. This made you lightheaded, but you knew better than to keep her waiting for an answer. 
“No!” You whined out breathlessly. “No, he wouldn’t care!” 
“Exactly.” She growled out. “I care. I’m the only one who cares about you in this godforsaken world.” 
She was probably right. 
You sucked in a breath, desperate to fill your lungs when she let you go. 
You looked on with intrigue as she descended down your body. While sitting on your knees, keeping you pinned to the ground, she opened the button and zipper of your jeans. She dug her fingers into the waistband and yanked them down. 
It was a bit of a struggle with you acting as deadweight against her, becoming more dizzy as heat swelled between your legs and made you dumb between the ears. She managed to get your pants down to your midthigh before she left the fabric there. This left your bare ass scraping against the roughness of the pavement, left all of you exposed to the cool night air - open, waiting for her. 
You clenched your thighs tight together, waiting with nervous impatience as she looked down at you. Her jaw was tight, tern; her blue eyes glistening with rage and betrayal. 
“Did he cum inside of you?” She growled. 
All at once, she lifted her weight off your legs, sitting up onto her knees. She hovered above you as she put her hands on your inner thighs and ripped your legs apart - as far as they would go with the waistband of your jeans holding you in place. 
“Ness!” You protested quietly, knowing it was in vain. 
You felt open and exposed to her as she blatantly inspected you - her fingers dug in, holding tight against your squirming attempts to close your legs once again. She knew that even past your embarrassment, you were turned on by this. Blatant evidence of that came before her eyes as a bit of wetness pathetically leaked out of you, glistening in the low light for her to see, smearing across your skin as you struggled against her. 
“Stay still!” She snapped, giving a harsh smack to your inner thigh that resonated through the air, chasing air out of your lungs. You thrashed from the pain for a moment before going still upon instinct, knowing that your hole was now visibly clenching around nothing, waiting for her. “So misbehaved. Such a brat. It’s like you don’t even want me to fuck you at all.” 
She sat herself on top of you once again, sitting on your thighs right where your jeans were, causing the denim to cut into your skin as she weighed on it. She specifically barred your thighs open against the ground, and you made no protest as she placed a hand between your thighs and began touching you. She worked in slow, teasing strokes that made the muscles of your thighs quiver and made a moan get caught in the back of your throat. 
“Look at me.” She ordered - you hadn’t even realized that your head was tilting back, your body so loyal to her that the pleasure of such a simple touch from her already overwhelmed you. “Y/N. Look at me.” 
She put her free hand on your neck again, slowing down the hand that was between your thighs until she was just barely teasing her fingertips against you. She used two fingers on your jaw to force your eyes toward her, and then she put that hold back on your neck - not yet putting any pressure, but making her presence well known to you. 
You were powerless against her, perfect below her - and you knew that’s where you belonged. 
“Who’s in charge?” She demanded, her voice low, scraping against her throat in a way that made goosebumps form all over your skin. 
She was still touching you in that slow, barely there way. You swallowed down a whimper and resisted the urge to buck your hips up into her, knowing that it would only get you spanked in a very sensitive place. 
“You are.” You said, your voice cradling around the words in a very pathetic, fucked-out kind of way. 
“And who takes care of you?” She asked, ever present to remind you of this. 
“You do.” You told her. 
“Good.” She growled. 
Then she sped up her hand, her movements almost vengeful as she worked between your legs, touching you in a way that she distinctly knew would make you fall apart. 
“Ness!” You shouted, not even slightly mindful to keep quiet. If you were even slightly present mentally, you would have remembered that’s why she chose this location. She liked to hear you scream. “Oh fuck me!” 
“That’s the plan.” She chuckled. 
She worked you hard and fast, made you breathless. Your mouth gaped like a fish on land as you desperately tried to steal air into your lungs, ever mindful of the hold she had on your neck - a presence, not a hold, not yet. 
Just when your thighs were quivering and you were on the brink of orgasm, she pulled back. Before you could curse on her, she hauled her touch back from you completely and delivered a harsh, sharp spank to the most sensitive part of you. 
“Fuck!” You screamed. “Fuck you, Vanessa, I’ve been good!” You quickly argued, anger surging through you. 
You didn’t even hesitate before you gathered spit in your mouth and launched at her savagely, bitterly angry with her as the pain stung through you. You would never admit that in this state, it mixed with the pleasure in a deliriously confusing way, and might have brought you to orgasm if she had done it again too quickly. 
The glob of your spit landed on her shirt, making a small spot, and she glared down at it for a moment. She didn’t seem to pay it much mind. 
“No, you haven’t been.” She told you, her voice stern. “You need to remember how to be good.” 
She landed another spank between your legs, and as your almost-there orgasm faded from your stomach, this one stung a lot more. 
“Fuck!” You cursed again. 
“Now ask me nicely.” She demanded. “I won’t take care of some brat who doesn’t appreciate it. I’ll take care of someone who asks me nicely, and says thank you.” 
You were too far gone to argue against her. 
“Please.” You begged, tilting your head up to look at her. 
She was still so well composed, not a single hair out of place - the only evidence of sex on her being the stain you had left on her shirt and a tinge of pink coming across her cheeks from the obvious heat you were drawing out of her. 
“Please, Nessa. Please, I need it.” You begged, your voice breathy and fucked out. “I need you.” 
Those were the magic words. 
She put her hand back on you - gently, this time, and began steadily working you. 
“Oh, thank you. Thank you, thank you!” You sighed. 
You were now making a slightly sloppy sound with your own wetness as her hand moved - she pushed a steady stream of moans out of you as she worked up the rhythm. It wasn’t long before you noticed her weight shift, and felt her rubbing herself against your thigh. You loved the impressive heat coming off her cunt, even through her pants it was apparent. From the way she moved her hips with intense urgency, she needed this too. 
You felt yourself getting close again, that deadly heat curling in your gut. You knew what needed to happen, and you weren’t going to make the same mistake again. 
“Please!” You begged, breathless. “Please, Ness, let me cum!” 
“Why should I?” She growled, working her hand even faster now, vengeful as she pumped her wrist and canted her hips against your thigh. 
“Cause - cause you’re the only one who cares about me!” You replied. “Please!” 
It seemed that this was enough to satisfy her. 
“Cum for me.” She growled out. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to disobey. 
She worked you through it - part skill, part knowing from exploring your body so many times before, from being the only person who knew you like this. She moved her hand from your neck and leaned down to sink her teeth into the skin there. The feeling of her canines digging into you while you arched up as the orgasm rocked your body only made everything more dizzying. 
The sharp pain of her bite was grounding, and as your body quaked through the last aftershocks of your orgasm, you whimpered out her name. She hushed you, gently petting her hands all over you before she soothed her tongue over the stinging bite. 
“It’s okay.” She whispered into your neck. “It’s gonna be okay.” 
After a few moments of stillness, Vanessa helped pull your pants up, silently admiring the mess you had made all over your own thighs. And then - she sat you up and unlocked the cuffs. Your wrists were incredibly sore and raw in some places from the metal cutting into your skin, but neither of you said anything about it. 
She opened the door for you to get into the front seat, and wordlessly, she drove you home. When you used your key for the front door, you left it open - a silent invitation for her to come inside after you, and she sighed loudly before doing so. 
That night, she slept in your bed. Both of you pretended that everything was okay. 
You and Vanessa were both very broken people. That wasn’t going to change anytime soon. You showed that brokenness in very different ways, and ultimately, she probably handled it a lot better than you did. 
But one thing would always be true - she took care of you, no matter what.
...
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moonliched · 6 months
Text
New friend!
BON-BON receives baby's first scolding, and you experience a microaggression :(
A big one. Some Moon shenanigans, a suspicion from last chapter gets confirmed, plus a tagged character finally makes an appearance!
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ffauthor · 1 year
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Kinda new to this whole requesting stuff so please forgive me if it’s confusing
Could you possibly write a Michael Afton x reader in which reader is Henry’s eldest daughter? Maybe Michael and reader might be kissing and Henry catches them in the act? I'll leave the rest up to you! :D
Hey! Thank you so much for requesting this! I'd love to write this! :D
It's not confusing at all!
Sorry if this isn't due to your expectations, I loved writing this.
y/f/f= your favorite flower,
In which reader is Henry's daughter/son.
Cw: Cursing, bestfriends with.. benefits?
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''No! Just, please. y/n.'' Michael has been walking around the room quickly, craving his hands over his face and covering his eyes.
''Please, just hear me out.'' You have been hearing him out, that's the whole problem. You always heard him out, and even now with your hands playing with the guitar strings and your sight glued to his. You never did anything else but hear him out, because you cared about him. You truly cared about him to the point you would be damned if anything ever happened to him.
Michael was your best friend, and you hated to know that you might lose your best friend over a stupid thing he did.
You couldn't blame Michael though, you were nothing more than friends. You weren't even together, but it hurt seeing Michael smile at a girl in your class, the girl you spend all your breaks with and do all of your school projects with. She became one of your closest friends.
It still hurt seeing Michael put effort into getting to know her. It hurt seeing him become distant from you to hang out with.. her. But what hurts the most is that you had no reason to hate her, because she was everything you wished to be. She was perfect, for Michael. She was perfect for everyone around.
So when you saw Michael, looking at you with this saddened expression and his fingers intertwined with hers you speeded out of the cafeteria. You didn't care where you were going, all you wanted was to get as far away from him as possible. You were afraid that after not talking to him for weeks would cause you to break down, to maybe be weak in the knees again, for him.
Because as much as you wanted it to not be true, you liked him. You actually caught feelings for him, and although it hurt, it felt too damn right.
And that brings you here, stuck in one of the music rooms with your 'best friend' only inches away from you. He's now fidgeting with his fingers, making you wonder if he's as nervous as you are right now, stuck in a position you wished to never get in.
Confrontation.
''I'm listening Michael... I have been listening!'' you get ahold of the sudden raise of tone as you feel your eyes burn slightly, your heart raising. ''Please, If I knew you... liked me, I wouldn't have treated you like this.'' you held your breath, afraid to bust your cover even tho it has already been blown.
''I- Michael, I don't like you. I mean.. not like that.'' you looked away, you wouldn't dare to look at him any longer. Not after those few words, not after damn well knowing you weren't only lying to him, but to yourself too.
And maybe Michael knew, or maybe he didn't, whatever it was, he would never like you back.
Michael started to chuckle as he rubbed his hand on your chin.
''Don't lie to me, sweetheart. Come on, I can see the lie written on your face.''
''You get shy when you lie, you look away. I can read you like a goddamn book y/n.''
''Don't hide from me, please.'' His voice was so desperate yet so passionate and.. truthful. He tilted your head a little bit so you were looking him in the eyes, those goddamn blue eyes that would let you drown right there at the moment.
You were desperate for his touch, maybe to even feel his lips burst onto yours but you couldn't help but push him away. ''This... This is wrong Michael.''
His hand gets lifted off your chin, and he takes a step back to keep some space between the two of you. Michael would lie if he said he didn't feel a little taken aback by you pushing him away, maybe because he didn't want anything else but to hold you and tell you a thousand times how sorry he was, in multiple different ways.
''Y/n..''
''No, Michael. We- You, can't do this. You have a.. a.. girlfriend.''
''Even though- I wouldn't want anything else but this-... It won't.. work.''
''You should probably go... if she sees u-'' Lips crashed straight onto yours, his lips. His soft light pink lips against your reddened ones.
It formed butterflies in your stomach, it caused you to widen your eyes and have your hands hang loosely, while he made its way in your hair, holding the side of your head and cheek cupped.
It is that he pulled away, otherwise this kiss would probably.. have turned into a make-out session. I mean, it's not like you would have minded tho. You already forgave him the moment his hand touched your chin. The feeling was magical, and the kiss really finished it.
''These flowers, these y/f/f's you love the most? they were for you, okay? I wanted to give them to you. I wanted to give them to the most beautiful girl right here in front of me. But I was a coward because I was too scared to give them to you because I was scared I was gonna ruin our friendship, and so I wanted to ask F/N if they could give them to you.''
''But I couldn't even ask it because she got the wrong idea... and so she kissed me. And - And I know that is not an excuse... I really know that but- I swear I pushed her away, okay? you just ran away t-''
He gets interrupted by a hard smack against his cheek, coming from your own strength. You had a tear roll down your cheek as a smile formed on your face. Michael's face was priceless to see, you have to admit.
''You really are a goddamn asshole, Michael Afton,'' you mumble, intertwining your fingers with his as you press your lips back against his. You could feel him smile against your lips as he took you by the waist and deepened the kiss a little bit, mumbling in between.
''I deserved that.''
The door of the classroom opened with a slam, making you both flinch and end the kiss in a heartbeat. The loss of his warmth makes you groan.
''You've got to be fucking kidding me.''
''Seriously? my best friend's son out of every guy you can get?'' You hear the voice of your father saying, his figure in the doorway matching it completely. He threw the well-known bouquet of flowers that Michael meant to give you on the floor just in front of you two.
''I think you forgot those'' Before you placed your head on Michael's chest, Michael's arms wrapped around your body.
''Hey- Mr. Emily.''
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Text
Imagine Michael, his head resting on your chest as is gently rises and falls as you breathe. His soft brown hair tickling your skin. The two of you newly done with lovemaking. It was never sex with Michael, because it was love. It was passionate, kind, and emotional. Michael would always shower you in praises, telling you how he loved you and you were his.
As the two of you laid there, you would gently press kisses onto the top of his head. Your arms wrapped around his back, savoring his warmth. You would murmur soft reassurances as your hand rubbed circles on his back.
It would melt your heart when Michael would snuggle his face into you more and let out purrs of pleasure. He would drift off to sleep and you were left on gratitude of such a lover you had.
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frost-queen · 4 months
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To his liking // part 2 (Reader x Steve Raglan /W. Afton)
Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers @merlieve,  @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly,@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn
Summary: Hired, you have your first glance at the old pizzaplex. To your surprise Steve is there for unknown reasons. The job description slowly becoming more clear when you finally meet what's behind the curtains. [part 1 & part 3 ]
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The car lights dimmed on the sign board. A happily looking bear waving with a mic in his hands. Eyes still glued on the sign, you opened the door, getting out. Seeing how the building was in it’s worst shape you seemed to pity it. Pity a building, strange. Nothing in the nearest range. Completely cut off from the world it felt. A hidden secret amidst the jungle. Shutting the door you approached the building more.
On your way you reached for the key Mr. Raglan had given you after your job appointment. An old key with a pizza slice keychain. Standing in front of it, you saw how dirty the windows were. With your sleeve you wiped it across the window, trying to clear it. It was helpless. So much dust and dirt collected over the years. Pressing your arm against the glass, you neared to peek inside.
How could you do your job when the place seemed deserted. Clearly no one would hold their birthday parties here anymore. Not at the state of it. – “Beautiful isn’t it?” – you suddenly heard startling you. Gasping loud you turned around, heart skipping a beat at Mr. Raglan. – “Mr. Raglan what…” – you started wondering what he was doing here.
He didn’t acknowledge your answer, looking at the building. – “It’s a shame it lost it’s glory. Oh what a glory it was.” – he spoke. You rose your eyebrow feeling as if he spoke from experience. – “Did… did you come here when you were young?” – you asked him. His eyes batted down to you. – “No.” – he answered in all seriousness. – “Shall we go inside?” – he had clasped his hands together, rubbing his palms together.
You simply followed as he gestured for you to open the door. So you did feeling his presence close by. The door opened as you walked into the dark entrance way. Mr. Raglan came standing beside you, staring with some pity at the destroyed interior. Tables and chairs flipped over. Litter everywhere. Crumbs and dust covered the carpet. It didn’t match up to why you were here.
“Mr. Raglan?” – you started wanting to speak him about it. He interrupted you only thinking of his own pleasures. – “Come I’ll show you the stage.” – he took you by the wrist, pulling you along. He manoeuvred with you through litter and fallen tables to get to the stage.
“You’ll be right in your element.” – he said pulling you along. He come to a stop at the stage, taking a moment to look at it. – “Mr. Raglan I don’t understand what…” – you began again once more cut off by him. – “Wait here.” – he said letting go of your wrist. – “But…” – you spoke words useless to his calling. Raglan disappeared in another room leaving you alone. You took a moment to look around. Is this where you needed to be? Did you even want to stay?
Something about this place made you feel uneasy. This was no place to play dress up for some kid’s birthday. You started to question what your purpose was. Was Mr. Raglan pulling a prank on you? The curtains were not evening up leaving you with a few millimetres of room to peek through the curtains. You tried looking through the small gap, wanting to know what was on stage.
It was too dark to see anything. Vaguely you could make out a few shapes. – “Mr. Raglan?” – you called out. Leaning in more, you slowly moved your hand up to the curtain. With trembling fingers you neared the curtain. Reaching for it. Wanting to know what secrets they held.
Your finger touched the fabric ready to pull the curtain back when the lights flashed on with a loud thud. It made you scream pulling your hand back when the curtains got pulled back. Revealing three standing animals. A bunny, a chicken and a bear.
You jumped back shockingly when lights started to flash on stage. The animals suddenly moving in sequences. Music blasting out of some boxes. The bunny playing the guitar as the bear moved his mic up and down. His mouth opening and closing, head turning in shocks. – “The fun is starting. A celebration that lasts eternally.” – the bear sang. The bear’s head turned to you, body moving forwards as he stared right at you. – “We are always watching.” – he sang sending a rush up your spine.
Something about his words sounding chillingly. The chicken was moving around holding a cupcake in her hand. The bear continued to sing till his voice started to deepen and slow down. Your eyes widened seeing their movement die out till they came to a stop. No more singing. You jumped when Raglan appeared from the side on the stage.
“They aren’t what they used to be.” – he said half chuckling. He came walking amongst them to the front of the stage. – “Did you enjoy the show?” – he asked. When you didn’t answer he dropped his smile. Raglan hopped off the stage to join you once more. He threw an arm over your shoulder, pulling you close to him. – “Meet Bonnie, Freddy and Chica.” – Raglan introduced. You moved your hand up not sure why you were saying hello to some puppets. – “What are…” – you started interrupted by Raglan. – “Animatronics.” – he explained.
You hummed astonished. – “So you expect me to give a little show too?” – you asked him. Raglan looked mischievously down at you. – “Let me see what you got doll.” – he spoke back with half a smile. You walked off as his arm fell from your shoulder. He watched as you went to search for something. Now that the place was lighted up, you had a better look at it. You grabbed a chair that seemed the best.
Setting it in front of the stage. You then grabbed Raglan by the arms, sitting him down on the chair. He smiled beyond himself when you went up to the stage. – “Chica, Freddy, Bonnie mind if I share the stage with you?” – you asked not sure why you were even talking to animatronics. The animatronics standing still in their worn out position. Freddy bend over.
Chica turned away from the crowd and Bonnie with one arm up. You pointed at the side hinting to Raglan if that was where you could find the music. Raglan pulled his shoulders up, not helping out. You went off stage. Raglan seating himself better with anticipation. It felt like he was about to witness his wildest dream.
The music started as the animatronics started to move again. Raglan smiled when you appeared on stage again. Positioning yourself beside Freddy. Freddy was singing as you danced by his side. Gesturing out movements with your hands and moving a bit with your hips.
Raglan inhaled deep leaning forwards. Elbow resting on his knees as his hands were pressed together under his nose from excitement. You caught up with Freddy’s words joining him. – “Come get to know me, and you won't want to leave after tonight. Down here, we're lonely, and we would love you to join us for a bite” – you sang along with Freddy.
Raglan staring hungrily and beyond happiness at you. The music died out again as you felt a bit silly now. Feeling all shy and flustered. Raglan got up clapping loudly. – “Bravo Y/n!” – he cheered, throwing you a kiss hand. You went to the front of the stage as Raglan met up with you. He helped you down the stage. Arms around your waist as he had picked you up and set you back down.
“You are a natural Y/n.” – he said. You smiled breathlessly back at him. – “So Mr. Raglan.” – you started as he had turned away from you. He hummed loud to acknowledge your attention. – “I wanted to ask you about the job description again. It seems a bit unclear to me.” – you explained wondering what your purpose was here.
He turned back to you moving his hands down on your shoulders. – “You will entertain them.” – he spoke making you frown. – “Entertain who?” – you questioned not sure. Which kids would come here at night to host a party?
Raglan turned you around towards the animatronics. – “You’ll entertain them, bunny.” – he whispered at you, pressing his fingers deeper into your skin. – “The… animatronics?” – you wondered half in shock. Raglan lowered his head to your shoulder. – “They’ll love you, just as much as I do.” – he said. You turned round back to him. – “You want me to entertain them?” – you asked again.
Raglan sighed annoyed. – “Yes dear bunny that is the task.” – he tapped playfully on your nose. Your eyes slightly widened with all the warnings going off in your head. There were so many wrongs about this. – “It’s not hard to follow instructions Y/n.” – Steve spoke cupping your cheeks. – “The stage is yours Y/n.” – he looked down at you with a smile.
“Enjoy your first night of many.” – he finished brushing his thumb against your cheek. He let go of you, walking away from you. You stood frozen. Unable to move from both the shock and his lovely touch. Raglan went back through the door disappearing into the night. He wasn’t gone for a minute as the lights fell out.
Leaving you back in complete darkness. Startled you heard some sudden noises from behind you. An uneasy feeling something was nearing. You slowly turned your head to the side. Eyes widening when you looked over your shoulder. Eye to eye you stood with shiny eyes. Those of an animatronic.
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