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xcherryerim · 3 days

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Teasing the Cute Neighbor

Mike schmidt x gn!reader

Couldn’t take my mind of Mike lawn mowing for a while now… so here y’all go 🫶🏻

tw: just suggestive :)

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As you approached Mike, who was diligently mowing the lawn on this sultry day, you couldn't help but notice the way his muscles rippled under the skimpy white tank top he wore. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, outlining the contours of his handsome face.

His breath quickened when he saw you approach, seemingly disheveled from a run that left your clothes clinging to your body in tantalizing places. The sight made his heart race even faster, fueling his already heightened senses.

"Are you thirsty?" you say, your smirk suggesting more than just concern for his well-being on this sweltering afternoon. Mike blushed at the implied invitation, momentarily speechless as his gaze unintentionally lingered on your body.

"What?!" he stammered, attempting to regain his composure while wondering if his gaze had been too obvious.

"Are you thirsty," you repeated, extending a hand holding an ice-cold bottle of water. Your eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Oh." Mike managed to say, taking a deep breath to steady himself before reaching out to accept the offered bottle of water.

The cool liquid felt heavenly against his parched lips, offering relief not only to his throat but also to his flustered nerves. "Thank you."

With a self-satisfied smirk playing on your lips, you saunter away from Mike, feeling the thrill of having successfully teased your dear neighbor. Your hips swayed enticingly from side to side, a subtle dance designed to leave him captivated and wanting more.

The look on his face said it all – a mix of curiosity and desire, a perfect culmination of all your efforts.

"Bye, Mike," you purr, your voice dripping with seduction as you walk away, leaving him behind with nothing but the memory of your flirtatious display.

Unable to resist, he watches as you disappear from view, his cheeks flushed crimson in a combination of embarrassment and arousal. All he could manage was a soft "Bye..." before you were out of sight.

#i need to do him #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt headcanons #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schimdt x reader #mike schimdt smut #mike schmidt smut #mike schimdt x you #mike schmidt x gn!reader #mike schmidt x fem!reader smut #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x fem!reader #mike schmidt x male reader

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roarsaurus · 3 days

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his stupid sock has a fucking hole in it

#mike schmidt #fnaf movie #josh hutcherson #jhutch

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joshfutturman · 2 days

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'they'd find us in a week, ( lay here for years or for hours )'

oneshot - mike struggles to let you get close, but when your hands brush against his hair, he realises that he may not be able to keep you at arms length forever (1.7k words) pairing - mike schmidt (five nights at freddy's) & gn!reader tags - ok basically this whole thing was 'mike gets sleepy when you play with his hair because my headcanon is that his mom used to do it when he was younger', pre-established friendship verging on relationship, lingering feelings, pure fluff

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

you knew mike wasn’t really the super affectionate type, or at least. . . not with you, yet. each week you’d come over, he’d inch a little closer towards you on the sofa. every time, you felt your heart rate pick up. he felt so close yet so far.

this night, he was the closest he’d ever been. your eyes drift over to the armchair where he used to sit himself when you first visited, and then to him, inches from you now on the sofa. you often treated the situation like mike was an animal, your hand outstretched waiting patiently for him to sniff, get used to your scent maybe. one wrong move and he’d scamper away. you operated on his time, at his pace.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

his leg touches yours and you feel your face heat up at the innocent touch. you dare not glance towards him, relax, you think to yourself. mike probably thought nothing of it. but when you do glance despite your best efforts, you notice the red on his cheeks too.

you try to suppress a smile.

the room was lit with only small flickers from the television in his living room, some mindless action film playing. it was his suggestion, and you let him, loving the way his face lit up when he tried to explain the plot to you in a sheepish manner. his dad used to watch it with him, he said. it felt special that he wanted to share this with you, even if it wasn’t the best movie in the world, it would turn out to be one of your favourites anyway.

you try to focus, settling back into the sofa as you rest your elbow back onto the base of the sofa behind you, supporting your head as your cheek rests against your palm. your eyes drift to mike, watching him as he eyes the television with deep interest. he’s got that sleepy look he usually has and your eyes begin to study his face a little closer now that you’ve got the opportunity.

the dark bags under his eyes hadn’t gotten any better, in fact, they looked a little worse. but that leads you onto his freckles, one. . . two. . . three. . . four. . . more than you could count, dotted across his nose and cheeks. they were your favourite of his features, little constellations you wanted to connect, his face infinitely more interesting than any of the old stars in the night sky.

his stubble was growing a little long, longer than you’d seen it before - maybe tomorrow was his usual shaving day. you wouldn’t tell him, but you thought he suited it at this length. a part of you wonders what it would feel like against your own cheek, but you quickly swat that thought from your mind.

but god, his eyelashes. they were long, dark and delicate. with each blink, you wonder if mike knew how truly beautiful he actually was. he was handsome sure, but he was also incredibly beautiful. not just in looks either, he was beautiful in the way that he’d save you an extra donut - your favourite kind, he’d swerve in the road to avoid birds, he’d send you pictures of things that reminded him of you with no caption or explanation.

you loosen up, lifting your face from your hand. your fingers twitch, itching to reach out and touch his hair. that would be weird, right? but he’s so close. his head is almost resting on your shoulder. should you?

before you have a chance to stop yourself, your fingers briefly brush through a curl on his head and immediately he flinches back.

fuck. you’ve lost him. he’s scampered away.

mike looks at you with what you think to be an angered expression. his brows knit together, leaning away from you as his eyes glance from your hand to you.

“i’m. . . i’m sorry i-“ you begin to say in defence, feeling embarrassed.

mike continues to eye you cautiously. how could he tell you the kinds of feelings that stirred for him?

suddenly he’s just a boy again. he’s had another nightmare. his mom is beside him in his cramped single bed with patterned dinosaur sheets, her hand on his soft curls at the base of his head. her touch is delicate, like he’s delicate. fingers dancing through curls, mike’s eyelids flutter closed as she hums a familiar, comforting tune.

no one’s touched his hair since then. no one.

well, no one except you. right now.

he’s not sure whether to be angry or to be upset. to snap at you or to apologise for his own reaction. he can feel the sadness bubbling in his stomach, spreading up to his chest. he hadn’t thought about this in so long, convinced he’d never be comforted in that way ever again - or maybe it was that he’d never let himself be comforted like that ever again. yet here he was, craving it.

at this point, you’re convinced it’s over. he’s going to ask you to leave. you crossed a line. there was nothing here between you and him. you wanted to apologise again, but what was the use?

“did you just touch my hair?” he finally spoke up, voice softer than you expected it to be.

you swallow hard, “yeah, sorry, i just- i dunno. . .” your words fall away from you again.

mike visibly relaxes, his shoulders loosening up. “it’s okay,” he glances at your hand once more, then back to you as if he’s trying to decide something, “you can. . . if you want to.”

eyes widening, you simply stare back at him, what? you’re stunned into silence for a few moments. you’ve never heard him so soft, almost vulnerable. his gaze continues to flicker to you then away, settling back on the television and returning to the position he was in before with his head close to your shoulder. there’s a hint of red on his cheeks. you can tell he’s. . . scared.

your hand inches closer again, fingertips grazing across his dark, soft curls. immediately you see him take a deep breath through his nose, you can’t figure out what he’s feeling. secretly, he’s feeling relief.

each touch is ghost-like, hardly making contact as you switch between examining his reaction and then back to his hair. once it’s been a minute and you both relax into the interaction, you sink your hands in a little deeper as his hair glides between your fingers with ease. you flinch a little as your fingers reach scalp, splaying your fingers across his skin.

his eyes flutter closed, head slumping forward a little. you smile, drifting your nails across his head gently until you find a curl between your pointer and index finger. you twist it around, letting your fingers comb through it.

mike feels goosebumps pepper up along the back of his neck, soft tingling raining delicately along his scalp. he focuses on the soft, tender sensation of your fingers. suddenly he realises that for once, his mind is quiet. it’s not running ahead, it’s not jumping over hurdles he’d placed for himself, it’s not reliving anything, he’s. . . simply existing here, in this moment, with you.

and he’s letting you. mike isn’t shying away from the touch, instinctively rejecting any form of care. instead, he’s relishing it. his head rests against your shoulder in a final act of defeat, breathing softening to a slow pace.

if it wasn’t so goddamn relaxing, he’d probably allow himself to feel emotional. it had been so long since anyone had cared for him like this, taken the time, or even tried. his walls had grown so high that he was convinced no one would ever dare try to climb them, and if they did he’d snipe them down with a single, devastating shot.

but you? you kept climbing, taking those shots like a champ and continuing to climb anyway. slowly, but surely. and it was almost as though mike never saw you coming. like you were over that wall in a flash - waiting patiently for him to beckon you down to the other side.

and here he was as you approached.

mike’s hand finds your leg in his sleepy haze and gently, sheepishly, lets his fingertips trail across the fabric there. like he’s trying to return the favour.

this simply makes you smile.

your fingers continue to trace small shapes in his hair, a heart, a circle, a square. . . and then all your fingers at once combing through his thick curls. you can’t help but watch the way his head sinks deeper and deeper against your shoulder as he gives in to sensation.

for the first time in forever, he feels sleep beckoning him without the use of pills or any other sleep aids. just you, your simple touch and your body heat accompanying him. it’s incredibly adorable to you, watching him settle underneath your touch. his touch on your leg falters, slowing down to a halt after a short while.

gingerly, your hand snakes to the front of his scalp, running through the curls covering his forehead and exposing the skin there as if to take a peek at his face. your eyes widen and you smile as you see his eyes gently closed, mouth half open. was he. . . sleeping? he’d fallen asleep against you, your fingers still in his hair. and you wouldn’t dare stop. you’d do this forever if time and the world allowed.

it was the most peaceful you’d ever seen him, evoking deep feelings of protectiveness. mike deserved better than what this life gave him, or rather, took from him. you’d do anything to make him feel at peace, even for a little while. what little you could offer to ease the burden, you’d give.

you rest your cheek down against the top of his head, letting your own eyes close - your hands now on the back of his head, playing with the curls that settle there naturally. trying your best, you keep up the soft touches of your fingertips as long as you’re able to before sleep inevitably comes for you too. it comes in waves, your head growing heavier against mike’s as he breathes out light snores.

before long, slumber sweeps you away. both of you laying contently against the other in a sleepy bundle.

tomorrow, you’d both have to face the world, but for now? this moment was yours. and in sleep, mike would pray you’d be there when he awoke.

little did he know, you’d never want to leave his side ever again.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. ‧₊˚ dedicated tags: @helen-on-earth @fatinhadesiners06 @boonam @laurrrelise @sun-spider13 @sammygirlism @sleepyhutcherson ‧₊˚ ily!! .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

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janitorhutcherson · 2 days

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THAT BIG ASS STRAW WITH THE WHOLE BOTTLE IS BIG AND GREEDY.

#josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson imagine #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #mike schmidt smut

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dalekofchaos · 3 days

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Garrett holding the possessed Fredbear plush can mean a few things

It's just a BTS coincidence or just Scott trolling us

Mike is an unreliable narrator and the story he told was repressed trauma for him to cope with the Bite of 83

Vanessa told the truth. He didn't die at Freddy's, but he died at Fredbear's.

#Five Nights At Freddy's #FNAF #FNAF Movie #Garrett Schmidt #Mike Schmidt #Vanessa Shelly #William Afton #Michael Afton #Crying Child #Vanessa Afton

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stop-talking · 2 days

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Can you recommend any writers for Josh that are the same level good as your fanfictions? <3

Hey so I made a list of jhutch fanfic recommendations a while back!!

All the fics on there are great, 100% on the "same level" as my work (or higher) I LOVE MY MUTUALS!! <3

Since making that list, though, I've started following a lot more jhutch writers, so here's some more people I recommend + my favorite piece(es) of work by them!!

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@starryhutcherson

"No Hablo Español" - a Clapton Davis fic (18+)

♡

@solarissun

"We are never, ever getting back together" - a Mike Schmidt (& Clapton Davis?) fic (18+)

♡

@ask-jhutchverse

(Doesn't really write whole fanfics; askbox project. Very silly little blurbs about all of the Jhutch characters living together. My fav is probably this one about Mike)

♡

@biblio-smia

(Literally just gonna link their masterlist because they have written SO much for Mike Schmidt + some stuff for Clapton that I loveee. I cannot possibly pick one or two)

♡

@freak-accident419

"Soft Spot" - a Derek Danforth fluff fic <3

♡

@janitorhutcherson

"Stoner!Mike Headcannons" (Y'all I'm obsessed with the idea of Mike Schmidt smoking I WILL be writing a fic based on this one day) (18+)

♡

@amentomensmut

"first time for everything" - another stoner Mike Schmidt fic... (obsessed) (18+)

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(To the mutuals I did not @ here, it's probably cuz you're on my old fanfic rec list and I didn't want to bother you with another tag. Still love y'all!!)

#fanfic reccomendation #fanfic masterlist #fic recs #fic reccomendations #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson x you #jhutch #josh hutcherson #jhutch1992 #smut fic #smut recs #mike schmidt #derek danforth #clapton davis

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ask-jhutchverse · 3 days

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i have some questions about this house you guys are in.

did you guys get to bring items from before you got there (derek’s vape and clothing, clapton’s skateboard i think, etc.?)

is the house big? i’m just curious haha

is there a signal to a TV or something? are there books or games of literally anything to do at all?

also can i be 🌈?

clapton has the camera, he’s outside in some kind of yard of the house. its about midday judging by the color of the sky.

“okay so all of these questions are totally valid! we had a lot of the same questions when we got here,” he starts, sitting down of the front steps of the house.

“it’s a pretty big house since it needs to fit all five of us.. 5 bedrooms, and 3 bathrooms because derek hogs one all for himself.” he rolls his eyes. he rubs a bandaid that’s on his temple.

“we all kinda just.. appeared here. no memory of how we got here, but all the memories from our original.. places.” clapton waves his hands around as he tries to find the right words, then uses them to adjust his bangs.

“most of our stuff was here. i have a collection of skateboards and some plug-n-play video games, and that was all here. derek has his vape, futturman has his pc.. the thing is, our house and rooms were completely set up and decorated when we got here!” he says, his eyes wide like he’s talking about a conspiracy.

“it’s crazy, man.”

the front door opens, and peeta peeks out to pass clapton a bag of skittles. “thanks, dude!” peeta nods as he leaves.

“but—“ clapton rips his new bag of skittles. “it’s honestly kinda nice. we don’t gotta pay taxes or anything like that.” he shoves a handful of candy in his mouth. “and our tv has cable! it kinda confused mike and i seeing all the new shows, since where i’m from, it’s still 2011, and for mike it was 2000. peeta was kinda scared since he’d only seen tvs in the context of the hunger games.” he laughs as he remembers.

“but yeah, overall—“ clapton pours the rest of the skittles into his mouth. “ifz phretty goodfh!” he says through muffled speech. he gives the camera a thumbs up and turns it off.

(the video ends)

(and yes you can be 🌈!!)

#josh hutcherson #jhutch #josh futturman #josh futturman x reader #mike schmidt #clapton #clapton davis #derek danforth #clapton x reader #future man #peeta mellark #peeta x reader

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