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fake-bleach · 3 months

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million dollar man | derek danforth x reader

summary: Derek Danforth takes great pleasure in paying for your company and your company only. He’s also a grade A asshole, who doesn't know how to take no for an answer. You come to him on a strict schedule, and, usually, he respects your life aside from him. But, for some reason, you can’t ever seem to get a hold of an evening with your friends without his intrusions. Corrupted with need, Derek persuades you to come to him with an offer of something.. more. Something that he knows will get your attention. What happens when the night ends in a way you wouldn't possibly expect?

word count: 3k

warnings/disclaimers: (18+ only!) fem!reader (no use of y/n), slight spoilers for "the beekeeper", reader's a broke college student, substance use (reader & derek smoke a joint and get high), (that's the "more" in the summary if that matters to anyone btw), use of pet names (baby, babe), derek's an asshole and a bit toxic (as expected), maybe ooc derek but? in a way, reader makes derek want to be better, a bittt of angst but it's worth it i promise, kissing, yeaa i think that's it, part 2 will have smut ofc!, this is kinda all over the place but i hope it makes sense lmfaoo

authors note: hi! i've been so so occupied w/ college, so i apologize sincerely for my sudden, longgg hiatus :') i miss writing all of the time </3 but, i saw the beekeeper on saturday and felt the need to write again! i've been super into jhutch for the past few months, so i hope you guys enjoy this one <3 part two should be coming asap :) so, consider this my brief comeback? but not really? i'm unpredictable

ao3 link | masterlist

read part 2 here!

Being one of the girls Derek Danforth keeps around, you’re bound to deal with some of the bullshit that comes along with it.

But unbeknownst to you, he likes you a little more than he'd like to admit.

He hasn't seen any of the others in weeks now, his mind only occupied with his thoughts of you and when you're not around. And when you're actually with him, paying for the pleasures of your company, he can't help but want more from you when he knows that's beyond your limits.

It's simple, really.

He's a lonely man, and he knows that; knows that his personality is hard to swallow and tolerate. Knows it's pathetic that all he can do is pay for people to actually stick around.

But, there's only so much a lonely man can take.

So, that's when he starts seeing you, exclusively, ‘cause to be fair? You’re the only one who’s bothered to stay by his side for this long.

The only one who’s ever made him feel.. something.

It’s been a few months now since you started seeing Derek. The first few visits from you immediately captured his attention; your disposition being unlike any he's ever encountered before.

Being surrounded by other like-minded people such as himself, it's safe to say that it's all he's ever known. The rich and prosperous life that everyone else around him has. The ability to get anything he wants in a blink of an eye, regardless of what it was, extravagant or not.

You on the other hand? It wasn't so easy.

Maybe it was because you were so hard to get. Maybe it was because he liked the challenge.

He didn't know why he was so captivated by you. But, what he did know was the fact that he needed to.

"Hey, I know we said next week, but I need you here now."

Derek had called you, urgently as it seemed while you were out. Despite the heads up you gave him about your upcoming plans the last time you saw each other, he didn't care, and that was something you were already preparing for.

"Derek, I told you: I can't do today. We agreed that it was fine." You spoke directly into the phone, walking away from your friends at the club you were at to a quieter area; away from the deafening music that shook every inch of the perimeter.

"Are you at a club right now?"

You sighed exasperatedly, the irritation in your tone evident as you reached an empty corridor near the bathroom, body leaning against the wall. "Yes, Derek, did I have to specify my plans to you as well?"

He let out a small laugh that made you stiffen, throat tightening.

"What's with the attitude, baby? It was a harmless fuckin' question."

You were used to this with him; the casual swearing, the way he spoke to you. It was nothing new, and everything you had already adapted to.

But, God, did it annoy the fuck out of you sometimes.

"No attitude. Just wondering why the hell you need me on my day off. I'm having some fun here, is that a problem?"

"Without me? 'Course it is," He exclaimed, his voice giving off his arrogance, "Why have fun there when you could be doin' that with me here?"

You swallowed sharply and licked your bottom lip, looking up and around you as you shook your head, hesitant on his inquiry. "I don't know, Derek.. I, I'm with my friends. Promised I'd be here tonight.." You paused, "They think I 'see you too much' already, y'know?"

"Fuck what your friends think. Come on, come see me, baby. I'll make it worth your while."

He was desperate, you could tell that much.

You rolled your eyes at that, your declaration already evoking his direct persuasions. "And how would you do that, Mr. Danforth?" You teased, "You know I don't play that shit with you."

He sighed into the phone, "Got something better then. You wanna relax, clear your head a bit? Fuck, I got it all for you," He implied what you thought he did, a slight weak spot that you didn't mind partaking in once in awhile.

He knew you were stressed with college, hence why you took this job in the first place; to ease the expenses you had to deal with. He also knew what you liked.

Still, who were you if one measly opportunity to get high bought you out?

"..And?" The word trailed off your tongue, drawing it out.

"I'll pay double tonight."

Too easy. "Fine."

You straightened yourself out, preparing to make up some lousy excuse to your friends of your departure. One that you knew they'd easily figure out.

"Text me the address."

Done. You heard the ding from the speaker of his phone alert him.

"Sending a car your way. Be out in 15."

You were intrigued by Derek.

Despite how much of an asshole he was, despite the privileged life that he's been able to live; the complete opposite of what you had been given.. you were intrigued by him.

The way he ticked, the way he carried himself.

The way everyone knew so much but so little about the President's son.

You almost felt special that his desires laid with you.

The roads that grew mundane to you towards Derek's estate made your heart race, the familiarity of it all still feeling so unbelievable to fathom.

You weren't like him; you were nothing like him. So, how in the hell did you get in this position?

The abrupt stop of the car you were in snapped you out of your head, and one of the workers Derek had around opened the door for you.

"Welcome back. Mr. Danforth has been waiting for you."

You smiled at the man and nodded, thanking him gracefully as you were led into the absurdly large residence you were still foreign to.

Before you could latch your eyes onto the man expecting you, his voice introduced himself into the room first, capturing your gaze.

"There's my girl. About time." Derek spoke loudly, and proudly at that, rushing towards you eagerly. He wore a blue suit with a cheetah print button up just underneath it, and you couldn't help but admit how nice it looked on him. His outfits could be outrageous at times, but it just worked with him.

You laughed at his remark. "I saw you two days ago, Derek."

He shook his head, grinning as he pressed a small kiss to your cheek. An affectionate gesture that you agreed to in your early days with him. "Two days, too long."

You rolled your eyes and gave him a small side hug, feeling a bit more eased at his calm demeanor. It seemed like he was completely different from the Derek you spoke to on the phone. Maybe he really did just need to see you.

But you? You had no idea why he chose you.

"Well, I'm here now.. What are you gonna do with me?" You tantalized, wanting to fuck with him as much as you could. The rules you set for yourself kept him in check, but you couldn't deny how fun it was to see him squirm.

You were confident, and you knew it. You knew he wanted you. But, you knew your worth, too. You weren't going to be so easy.

At least, not unless it was on your own circumstances.

He took a deep breath and put his hand on your lower back, beginning to lead you towards the abundant living room that he had all to himself. Matter of fact, he had the entire place to himself.

He glanced at your face as you took your steps, explaining himself clearly, "Just what you agreed to, baby. Got what you want right here." He took his hand off of you, walking towards the elegant box on the sofa table that he quickly opened up.

Pulling out something small, he lifted it up to you, revealing the perfectly rolled up joint that put a slight smirk on your face.

Well, here we fucking go.

"You're staying true to your word, Danforth. Just what I like to see," You commented, walking up to him, "Well, don't keep me waiting."

He shook his head and scoffed lightly, "Get comfortable, then."

He sat on the couch and patted next to him, and you followed right along, the lighter suddenly in his hand igniting to present the orange flame that flickered in your eyes.

He placed the joint in between his lips, lighter hovering above the end of it as it makes that familiar sound, papered edges burning crisp. He takes a drag of it, shutting his eyes as he lets the smoke fill his mouth before inhaling it into his lungs. A familiar warmth already seeping into the environment around you.

Without a second to waste, he urges you to come closer, muttering out a, "C'mere baby," before he places the tip of the joint in between your lips for you.

You quickly take the chance to take a drag yourself, repeating his every move as you shut your eyes blissfully, the herbal scent of it filling your nose from Derek's own smoke escaping his mouth.

"Yeah," He draws out, "There you go," He mutters as he watches you intently, taking in your hazy state as you evidently begin to relax. "Feels good?"

You swallow as you flutter your eyes back open to him, slight butterflies spreading to your stomach.

..That was the weed. Not him. Definitely not him.

You just nodded as he pulled it away from you, sleekly mustering out, "Great. Feeling better already."

He smirked at you and cocked his head, "Already? We're just gettin' started, babe."

You huffed and leaned back against the couch, getting yourself more comfortable as you shook your head, "Alright, Mr. Professional over here. I don't smoke as much as you, you know that." You sighed.

"I know, I know, m' just fucking with you. Besides, you got me here now, anyways," He teased, scooting a bit closer to you, "C'mon, open up." He urged you, taking another drag coolly, eyes stuck on you.

You quickly listened, lips parting to open wide, expecting the sudden smoke that filled the air to hit you. He blew it out in your face, making you giggle from the feeling as your lungs took it in.

He licked his lips as his gaze lingered on yours, lips slowly closing shut as your body increasingly felt lighter, the substance overwhelming your foggy brain.

The more the seconds passed, the more his eyes darkened, consuming you completely.

A part of you couldn’t help but like it.

There was something so sensual about it. You knew that; there was no denying it. And maybe it was the weed too, but fuck, did it feel good with him right now.

Right now, Derek Danforth was not the condescending asshole that you occasionally dreaded being around.

Right now, Derek Danforth was slowly becoming the one thing that you craved the most.

Fuck, it really was the weed.

"Give me that." You distracted yourself from your heavy thoughts, reaching for the joint in between his fingers. He handed it to you and leaned back against the couch himself, body angled to face you entirely.

He couldn't take his eyes off of you, and now, it was you who was bound to squirm.

You avoided his gaze, taking one last drag before giving it back to him eagerly. There was only so much you could take, and normally you'd want more, but you couldn't help but fear the possibility of any more of it multiplying these thoughts of him.

The feelings that you continuously needed to deny.

Your eyes locked onto the center table just in front of you, suddenly feeling incredibly curious about the intricately built legs that screamed wealth.

Now, he obviously wasn't as high as you, because the next thing that leaves his mouth sounds a bit too coherent for him to be.

"Don't know how you went this long without me."

Your head snapped to him at that, stomach suddenly tightening with confusion at his words. A direct, accusative statement you couldn't have possibly expected to hear from him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just.. with college, with this, with experiences like this.. You need me. Obviously." He exclaimed confidently, as if you should’ve known that already.

There he was. The asshole.

You sharply inhaled, scoffing as you shook your head, staring down at your lap. Your hazy mind can't even help you form words, except for the one phrase that doesn’t do your defense any justice.

"I don't.. I don't need you." The tone of it is light, gentle as it rolls off your tongue, and you hate that you're not in the right headspace for this right now.

He laughs at that. The same laugh that always makes you stiffen, freezing in your place.

"You don't.. you don't need me?" He mocks you as he takes another drag from the joint, putting it out on the ashtray in front of him, "Everybody needs someone, baby.. You shouldn't try so hard to deny that." He taunts you, and you know that it's what he wants from you.

For you to lash out. For you to show him any ounce of vulnerability that you've managed to keep composed since this relationship began.

"Especially not from someone who treats you so.. Right." He whispers out, almost grimly as he leans in closer to you, face merely inches away.

You slowly turn your head now, facing him as you shut your eyes gauzily, mind still lost in your mix of emotions. You hate him; you want to hate him so badly, but you can't.

Some fucked up part of you can't let yourself.

But, that doesn't stop you from putting up a fight.

"You treat me.. right? Is that what you think?" You begin, eyebrows furrowing as you attempt to hold yourself back, "You're an asshole, who treats everyone like shit, Derek."

He laughs, a cruel noise escaping his lips; an unexpected action that urges you on, pushing you further.

"You.. You completely disregard my feelings, my, my plans, everything in my life that doesn't have anything to do with you, you're unbearable, you—"

He cuts you off then, inching closer to you as he grins at that, "Then why the fuck do you stick around? If I'm so fucking unbearable, baby, why do you bother with me?"

"Because maybe.. there's some part of me that hopes you'll stop being such a piece of shit, Derek!" You explode now, aggravated and pushed to your limits. Pushed to show you care for him in some way.

Was this his plan all along?

You don’t know, but you let out one final remark, unable to control yourself now that you've already begun, "But, I don't fucking need you. You need me." You spit out, your seething glare locked on him.

"I need you?" He spews out, almost as if it's too unbelievable to even hear.

"Yeah, you need me."

"I need you?" He repeats bitterly.

You swallow, blatantly whispering, "You need me, Derek."

He continuously denies you, his composure slowly leaving him the more you open your mouth.

“I don’t need you. I don’t fucking need anyone.” He’s quick to say defensively as he turns away from you, refusing to allow you to get to him.

But, you know it now. You’re getting under his skin.

You press further, head closing in near his to make sure he hears your words loud & clear.

“You randomly pulled me out of my plans tonight and brought me here, Derek. What fucking for? I know you didn’t just need my fucking company. Not after you persuaded me to come. I know you better than that now.”

He shakes his head, rapid and tense, unknowingly egging you on.

“Why do you care about what the fuck I do? Who I see? Hell, even my fucking life! I thought this was all just business to you. What happened to that?”

He pauses then, processing it all. Something he's never been compelled to do before.

“..What happened to that, Derek?” You push, tone composed & steady now.

Before you can continue your little speech, before you can push him any further, he crumbles instantly; voice direct and harsh as he finally reviles into your exertions.

"I don’t—I don’t fucking know, okay! Yeah, maybe you're fucking right. Maybe that's why I always want you around. Maybe that's why you're the only fucking person that I ever want to be around. I—I just—"

“You just what?” You need to hear it, desperation seething through your voice.

He bursts out now, head turning to face you as he spits out his confession. “I can’t fucking think of anything else but you. I can’t be around anyone else without wishing it was fucking you.”

There it fucking is. But, he’s not done.

“You drive me fucking crazy, baby,” He laughs at himself, pathetic with his vulnerable words that no one else has ever gotten to hear, “And I don’t know what the fuck to do ‘cause I know this isn’t what you signed up for, but fuck, maybe I.. I do fucking need you, I don’t fucking—”

You can’t control the next thing you do.

Well, maybe you can, but you really don’t fucking want to.

It's your turn to cut him off now, after the countless times he’s done it to you; by placing your lips on his, eager and desperate as your hands slip from your lap to cup his face and pull him in close, chasing the high of his lips on yours.

He shuts his eyes as you do the same, swallowing sharply once you break it apart, eyes set on him as you await his response.

His wide eyes lock onto yours now, and he whispers out your name, shocked and unsteady, and almost in an attempt to stop you.

"God, just shut up for once." You interrupt him, pushing your lips back onto his before he can protest any further. He moans into your mouth, hands moving to grip your hips eagerly, his body closing in on you completely.

Let's just say, you don't feel so high anymore. You’re no longer confused.

You're more sure of this than anything in your fucking life.

part two should be coming this week! feedback & reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

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psychedelic-ink · 5 months

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ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐒

ㅤㅤ mike schmidt x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, pwp

word count: 1k

summary: mike is asleep, and when he pulls you into his naked chest, you can't help but indulge.

warnings: established relationship, soft somnophilia, sub!mike, nipple play, body worship??? kinda, thigh fucking

a/n: thank you to @cupofjoel for sending me this image and giving me the need to bite that mans chest

Warm body. Warm breath. Soft bare skin.

All of it lulls you into a sense of safety. Mike’s sleeping soundly. Fresh out of the shower, smelling like pine and bergamot. His arms are loose around your frame, your face buried in his rising chest. He smells so good. Feels so good. All soft and pliant as he snores away.

You start with a kiss. His skin still damp from the warm shower. After every inhale you kiss him again, swallowing the dent in the middle of his torso and moving up. Your mouth grazes him slowly, a bit of tongue peeking through your lips. You cup his waist with a feather-like touch. Warm. He’s so damn warm.

Reaching his sternum, you leave a peck and brush your face against the swell of his chest. When he lays sideways like this they resemble pillows. With a smile, you graze your teeth over the flesh. A slow shiver runs up his spine. You can feel his cock firming against your stomach. He shifts a bit, pressing himself tighter.

It’s amazing just to be here with him. You don’t rush your movements, nipping and kissing until you reach a pebbled nipple. He’s fully hard now, his cock leaking, the fabric that hides the growing tent darkening. Your gaze lingers on his face. His lips are slightly parted, brows relaxed. A bit of mischief warming your veins, you kiss the peaked flesh and tighten your lips around it, you gently close your teeth around the nub.

Mike’s hips jerk, the softest of moans slipping from his lips. You smile broadly as you repeat the motion, this time flattening your tongue over the sensitive flesh. He whimpers this time, the sound directly prompting the pulsing between your legs.

“Fuck,” he breathes just as you give him another suck. His hand cradles the back of your head, nails scratching your scalp. “What are you doing?”

You move away with a pop, a string of saliva following your lips. You bring your hand to his chest and slide your thumb over his nipple. “You don’t like it?”

“I do, I do. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

He breathes heavily. Inhaling from his nose and exhaling from parted lips. His cheeks are sparsely flushed, shades of red that start from his cheeks and color a path down to his chest. You kiss the splotches of warm skin. His chest heaves heavily, your lips curling with a smile as he continues to grind against you. Your own arousal grows. Slick coating the inside of your thighs and the seam of your panties.

“So sensitive,” you murmur, closing your fingers around one nipple while licking the other. “I bet I can make you come like this.”

“‘Wouldn’t be much of a challenge,” he huffs. His hands trace the contours of your back, hips jerking when you swirl your tongue and gently pinch a nipple. His nails bite into your back, a burst of pleasure tingles at the base of your spine, you moan into his chest, your thighs clenched together. He whimpers, “Baby, let me fuck your thighs, please—”

His cock nudges right under your pubic bone, the head catching against your clothed clit, your teeth accidentally sink into flesh. His hold around you tightens. His throat bobbing visibly as he swallows. You quickly rid yourself of your sweats, kicking them off in a fervor along with your soaked underwear. Mike doesn’t hesitate at all and slides himself between your thighs, your cunt pulses as he spreads your folds. He’s needy, almost like a teenager, as he thrusts between your legs. Your entire body heats up. Your tongue laving over his abused and reddened nipple, you drag your mouth to the other one, replacing the former one with your fingers.

He moans through gritted teeth, his length shiny with slick. It feels so good to have him moving, stimulating your clit every time he pulls back and presses forward. He throbs heavily between your legs. He’s close, you can tell by the pitch of his voice, by the way he breathes out your name with every flick of your tongue. “Does that feel good, Mike? Do you feel how soaked I am for you?”

“Fuck, yeah—yeah I do—” His head falls and you feel his lips brush against the top of your head. “Please—I’m—I’m going to—”

You’re not sure what he’s asking for but instead of asking you suck his skin enough to leave a bruise, he cries out, and his hips stutter forward, his cock balls deep between your thighs. You continue to leave mark after mark, sucking, licking, leaving gently nibbles upon his skin—

But then you feel it, drops of wetness hitting the back of your thighs, the crease of your ass. Your eyes roll upon realization, a fresh wave of arousal leaving you and coating him. Mike holds you still, cock throbbing as he comes. There’s so much. It tickles as it slides down your legs and stains the sheets. Your lungs cave at how good it feels. Your violent sucks become soothing kisses. “That’s it,” you murmur. “That’s my sweet boy, making a mess.”

He shudders and more spills from him, his balls drawn tight. When he’s finally done, he lets out a stuttering breath. His hands grip your shoulders and drag you up, he kisses you deeply, tongue dancing alongside yours. Your lungs burn at the lack of oxygen but it’s a sensation you greet with open arms. Your cradle the back of his head, fisting his hair as he kisses you until your head is spinning.

And when he pulls back, it’s spinning still.

“That was amazing,” he says and you smile lazily. Before you can muster an answer, he’s flipping you to your back. “Now it’s my turn,” he disappears between your legs, your body coming alive at the first flick of his wet tongue.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x fem!reader #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt smut #five night at freddy's fanfic #mike schmidt x f!reader #josh hutcherson character fanfic #josh hutcherson characters #josh hutcherson characters fanfic

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freak-accident419 · 1 month

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you’re welcome…

this movie was brought to my attention by @xcherryerim like i didnt even know this scene existed so AGHHHH 😍😍

#vinnie #in dubious battle #Josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson characters #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson smut #mike schmidt #josh futturman #clapton davis

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via-l0ve · 5 months

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OMG UR MIKE SCHMIDT HCS ARE PERFECT!!!!!!!!! pls do a part two 🙏🙏

(btw can I be 😾 anon? )

Dating Mike Schmidt Hcs PT. 2!❣️

a/n: ABSOLUTELY!!! thank you sm 😾 anon <3 i love u! this also includes just some general head cannons of him because he’s my baby.

warnings: nothing :)

mike drinks coffee and energy drinks all the time

his favorite flavor of monster is the original or the Strawberry dreams

if you like monster (i’m an addict) he buys you one every time he buys one for himself

when he was working at freddy’s you’d patch him up if he ever got hurt :(

you teach him how to bake so he can teach Abby

You’re the only person Abby likes her brother to be with

she incorporates you into her drawings after a while of knowing you

mike is so happy when he sees you drawn in because his sister’s approval means a lot to him even if she’s only ten

it takes a while for mike to open up to you

but when he does he kinda has to break it up into small bits

he’s surprised when you hug him and comfort him bc what no one’s ever done that before

his love language is most definitely words of affirmation and physical touch

mike is so stressed with his work schedule so he can’t always be there physically but he always, without fail, every. day. sends you a good morning and good night text.

that might not seem like much but it’s everything to me okay!!!!

“hey baby, good morning :) i love you the most and i hope you have an amazing day. im on my way to work now but when i get out ill text you and when i get home ill give you lots of kisses. i love you.”

that’s so fucking cute

you guys have frequent date nights that just consist of laying on the couch or in his bed and watching a movie while he lays on your lap or on your chest

Abby usually interrupts because she “can’t sleep” but we all know it’s just because she wants to watch the movie

Mike secretly has a savings account for the two of you

he wants the best for you and when he can give you the world he will

but for right now he’ll pay for some stuff and give you kisses afterwards

he makes playlists that remind him of you

he loves to give you his clothes

or, if you don’t want those, he gives you blankets of his that smell like him

Mike notices the little things

like if you told him a story about your cousin and how they pissed you off

and then you brought them up again

he would remember the incident but he wouldn’t remember their name

“oh isn’t that the cousin who did all of that stuff to you?”

you guys have deep talks at 2am while he lays on your stomach and you comb through his hair with your fingers and you guys just talk and make out

his lips are soft but his hands aren’t

you definitely flirt with him all the time to make him blush

he hates feet

like everyone wears socks in his house or he will shoot his eyes out

he also hates canned corn

don’t ask me why i think this is just do

he’s scared of being alone

he also most definitely uses “:) :( :/ .-.” instead of actual emojis

he laughs at all of your jokes

even if they’re just not funny

he dosent want you to get sad lol

he’s always scared he’s not enough for you

he works a lot and he’s constantly tired and he makes minimum wage so it’s not like he can take you out to fancy dates or anything

he opens up about how he feels and when you tell him how much you adore your little mundane activities he gets all teary eyed and just hugs you so tight

:(((

he just wants to be the best version of himself for you

he adores you

off topic - he’s a lightweight when he drinks

he’ll stumble into the house drunk and just clinging onto you like a sloth

poor baby

he just deserves the world

#love u mwah #thank you sm for this request #😾 anon #mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt headcanons #i love this man #fnaf movie #fnaf #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson characters

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dogflowerzz · 2 months

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my friend got me a framed photo of josh hutcherson for my birthday

so obviously i carried him around school all day

#josh hutcherson #jhutch #josh hutcherson characters #whistle #whistle edit #derek danforth #josh futturman #mike schmidt #clapton davis

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chasingmidnights · 5 months

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'Tis the Season: Holiday Special

Day 10 - Peeta Mellark - what the holidays might look like with Peeta Mellark. The holidays are pretty simple with Peeta. You enjoy watching Peeta play in the snow with your little ones and when they come inside, they help frost the freshly baked sugar cookies. If it wasn't for the kids, the house wouldn't be decorated, you do everything for them. And so does Peeta. Late at night, you wonder how you got so lucky as the two of you cuddle by the fire and your babies are fast asleep all around you, the youngest laying on your chest. Peeta holds you close and softly kisses the top of your head.

#tis the season #holiday special #25 days #multi fandom #multi fandom event #holiday moodboard #holiday moodboard event #the holidays with peeta mellark #peeta mellark #peeta mellark moodboard #peeta mellark holiday moodboard #peeta mellark imagine #peeta mellark drabble #peeta mellark au #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fandom #josh hutcherson characters #peeta mellark fandom #the hunger games

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jay-wasstuff · 6 months

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#personally liked that they didnt go into it. guys some ppls motive is.... just because. thats it. i like that his character is that way loll #fnaf movie spoilers #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf movie #william afton #matthew lillard #josh hutcherson #fnaf memes #halloween #spooky season

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proxima-writes · 5 months

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SWEET TOOTH

pairing: mike schmidt x female reader

rating: explicit

word count: 1.1k

summary: mike has a sweet tooth. when he sees you come home from the grocery store with an extra bag you’re trying to hide, your efforts to keep your candy away from him turn dirty.

author’s note: i have no explanation. just a sprinkle of josh hutcherson brain rot that turned into this.

warnings/tag: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), established relationship, dry humping, desperate mike, sub mike vibes, pet names (including good boy), teasing, play fighting, kissing, mike cumming in his pants, begging.

Mike stumbles out of the bedroom when he hears the door open, the rustle of plastic grocery bags followed by the gentle opening and closing of the kitchen cabinets letting him know you’re back from dropping Abby off at school and running to the store. He didn’t sleep much but it doesn’t matter, not when he’s been missing you for the last couple of nights.

“Hey,” he says, entering the kitchen and sliding his arms around your waist. “What did you get?”

“Just the usual. Some frozen pizzas. Rice. Those burritos you like were on sale, so I got a bunch of those,” you reply. There’s a bag on the counter that’s still full and when he tries to reach for it to help you out, you snatch it away. He raises his eyebrows.

“What’s in the bag?” He asks.

“Nothing.” You step away from him, hiding the bag behind your back. “It’s just…feminine things.”

He doesn’t buy it.

“You mean the same feminine things that are fully stocked in the bathroom right now?”

You shrug. “They were on sale.”

“I don’t think you’re telling the truth,” he teases, taking another step toward you. You back up, but he moves forward. You shift to the side and he follows suit. “Is it candy?”

You stomp your foot petulantly. “Michael Schmidt, you are not stealing my candy this time. You and Abby ate all of my M&Ms last weekend!”

“Sharing is caring!” He tries to reach for you but you duck around him, running for the living room with your bag in hand.

Mike chases after you, following the sound of your laughter and watching as you round the back of the couch, using the piece of furniture to defend yourself. Every time he moves, you shift in the other direction, bag still held behind your back. He moves forward and your eyes narrow.

“Don’t you dare,” you hiss. Like a disobedient cat, he places one foot on the couch cushions, raising his eyebrows at you in defiance. “Michael Schmidt!”

He rushes over the furniture toward you, a shriek that turns into a giggle filling the room as closes in on you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest.

“Gotcha,” he teases. He reaches around to grapple for the bag, struggling grab it as you move it out of his reach. Your ass is snug against his hips and his cock takes notice of the contact, twitching in his sweatpants.

“You got a little problem there, Mike?” You ask, voice teasing. You grind against him and he hisses, eyes fluttering closed. His hands still, settling on your hips.

“F-fuck,” he stutters. You take advantage of his moment of weakness, breaking free from his grasp and rushing across the room. “Hey!”

He charges after you again, grabbing you around the waist again and throwing both of your bodies over the back of the couch, the two of you landing in a heap of limbs on the cushions. You hold the bag of candy up over your head and he reaches over you, success so close he can taste it.

Your hips twitch against the knee he’s got planted on the cushions between your legs and he pauses, glancing down in interest. In his distraction, you shift your weight enough to send him toppling to the ground, landing with a thump and a groan on his back.

He looks up at you, sees the little smirk on your lips, the mischievous glint in your eye, and he knows he’s in trouble. You grind yourself against him and his eyes roll back at the sensation, the friction of your body against his familiar and consuming in the best way.

“What’s the matter, Mike?” You ask, voice teasing. “Thought you wanted my candy?”

“Mm, candy can wait,” he manages to murmur, lifting his hands to slide his palms along your thighs. “I could use some sugar, though.”

You laugh, head thrown back and shoulders shaking. “That was so bad!”

“Made you laugh, though,” he counters. You smile at him, planting your hands on his chest to steady yourself as you lean close, lips ghosting over his.

He kisses you, slow at first, lips moving in a familiar dance. He swipes his tongue against yours, relishing in the heat and taste of you. You wriggle in his lap like you can’t help yourself, can’t sit still, little sighs escaping you as he kisses you senseless. You feel so good on top of him, surrounding him, grounding him to a present where he doesn’t have to worry about work and bills and money and whether he’s doing well enough for Abby.

You break away from him with a slick pop, lips glistening with spit. You move over him again, this time with intent. You drag your clothed pussy over his hard cock, slow and steady, back and forth.

“Mmm, w-why don’t we take this to the — fuck — bedroom?” Mike asks, trying to hold you still. His fingers dig into your hips but that only seems to spur you on. “Come on, lemme make you feel good.”

“Feel plenty good just like this,” you murmur. Mike bites his lip, squeezes his eyes shut, thinks about anything but the friction of your pussy against his cock but all his mind goes to is images of you splayed out in bed, leaking cum and glistening with sweat. He whines, hips bucking up against you.

“Please, f-fuck,” he bites out. “If you d-don’t stop I’m gonna—“

“Gonna what, Mike? Cum in your pants for me?”

Mike groans, long and loud, that knot in his stomach going taut. He can feel himself leaking in his boxers, an embarrassingly sticky mess that you’ve made of him without even touching him.

“Come on,” you encourage, sliding a hand from his chest up to the base of his throat. “Good boys cum when they’re told, baby.”

The slight pressure on his neck, the rocking of your hips, the dark look in your eyes, it’s all too much, too soon, too good. Mike’s hips stutter, warmth flooding him as he cums and cums and cums, cock twitching against you as you slow your movements.

You stop, sitting still on top of him. He’s panting, aching fingers flexing on your thighs as you run a hand through his hair before kissing him, soft pecks of your lips over his face that have him smiling like a dope.

“If this is what I get if I eat your candy then I hope you know it’ll never be safe,” he teases. You smack his chest, standing and grabbing the discarded bag from the floor.

“If you touch my gummy bears, you better get real acquainted with your hand,” you reply.

“Might be worth it for gummy bears.”

A handful of the gummy bears pelt his face and you laugh as he pops one in his mouth. You finish off the bag together before Mike returns the favor.

Over and over and over.

All masterlists

#mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x fem!reader smut #mike schmidt x female reader #mike schmidt fic #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt fnaf #josh hutcherson character

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yukichosodrink · 2 months

Text

c.ai when

i did not spend like hours here n bro jus goes like this omg

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cainternn · 5 months

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im so sorry guys

#rin #oc #original character #my art #artists on tumblr #my ocs #josh hutcherson #whistle #its the last 2 weeks of school and im losing my mind #drew this just to feel something

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starxxkitty · 3 months

Text

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚

Movie Nights

Mike Schmidt X Fem!Reader✧˖°.

☆ Synopsis: It's been an exhausting day and Mike finally gets a chance to unwind with you, planning to watch a movie. But the screen is the last thing he can focus on.

☆ Word Count: 1.5k

☆ Warnings: NSFW, swearing, oral (f receiving), fingering, soft smut, No use of y/n

☆ A/N: This was really fun to make, and writer's block is finally leaving me alone!!૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ﾟ.

You snapped out of your hazy state as the door clicked, looking at the clock

11:23 pm.

Mike sluggishly set his stuff down, taking tired steps from the late night. It was one of those fortunate days off for him, yet he insisted on running errands and helping out the neighbors.

Hanging up his coat, you caught a glimpse of him and he looked absolutely wrecked; hair tousled and bags under his eyes with that exhausted look written all over his face. You knew he was tired, you knew he had worked so hard, but damn did he look good.

"Hi," you whispered, earning a small, tired smile from him. “Hey.” Voice quiet, he walked over to the table, looking around, “Do you know where the–”

“The paperwork?” He nodded, knitting his brows, “I did most of it, the rest is in the first drawer.” A slight wave of shock was evident on his face as he looked your way. “You really didn’t have to..”

shaking your head, you smiled at his shy tone, “You’ve been working so hard baby. It’s the least I could do.”

He let out a tired chuckle, slumping beside you on the couch. “God, what did I do to deserve you.” His words made your heart flutter, and even when exhausted, he somehow found a way to look at you with eyes that made you feel like the finest paintings.

“I missed you” he mumbled, resting his head on your shoulder, relaxing as your hand laced through his loose curls, humming softly, “Missed you too.” The dim lighting and gentle touch did nothing to help his drowsiness, huffing as he felt you move to pick up the remote. “Anything you wanna watch?”

He sighed, burying his face in your neck, “Whatever you want.” Poor boy, he was completely drained. You clicked through the channels before deciding on something you hoped would be interesting.

Mike moved his head slightly, eyes on the screen, but his thoughts were on you. Everything about you drove him crazy. That soft voice of yours and even softer touch occupied his mind every day, craving you more than anything he’d ever tasted. The only thing he could think about was those desperate sounds that spewed from your pretty lips when he went down on you.

“Mike?” Slipping from his thoughts, he shifted against you. “Hm?” God. His voice drove you insane. “We don’t have to watch anything—I mean you seem really tired.” He shook his head, breathing in your sweet scent. “Mm…I jus’ wanna be with you.” Words slurring from exhaustion, he lost himself in your presence. You nod, trying to drown yourself in the movie, though, it threatened to put you to sleep with its nonexistent plot.

Your attempts to focus were interrupted by that familiar touch, Mike's hands caressing the dip of your waist, “What are you–” Cutting off with a sharp inhale, you felt his fingers slip under your shirt.

You bit back a sigh as his body moved closer. "Missed you so fucking much," he groaned softly, trailing kisses across your jaw. The tone in his voice was so much more desperate than before, hands teasing your hot skin with his fingertips. "Mike..." you sighed, "we can't—" He touched you with such care, dragging his fingers down to your hips, but you knew you had work in the morning. Any longer with him touching you like this, and you'd be up all night. "Focus on the movie baby," he mouthed against your neck.

You tried to protest, but your jaw went slack before you could even speak as he found that sweet spot against your skin.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Hardly processing what he was saying, your body melted at his touch. "You don't know how badly I've been wanting to do this." His words clouded your mind, making it hard to think about anything other than him. It was like he was a different person from when he first got home, his sweet nothings only making you want more. “I thought you were tired.” Your breathy whisper made his mind spiral.

“Never too tired for you.”

Inhaling deeply, you tried to keep your eyes on the screen, but no matter where you looked, your mind drifted to him and his touch. Struggling to focus, his hands glided down to your thighs, that feeling of his fingertips dancing on your bare skin making you dizzy before they slipped under your shorts. "Please," you whined.

"Mike, please—" Your desperation was mesmerizing as he drank in your soft begs, that intoxicating scent of your perfume flooding his senses.

"Please what?" Desire wrapped around him, "C'mon, baby, tell me what you want." His words were soft, silently begging to hear your lovesick voice.

You bit back a shy moan, "Touch me…Please."

Head spinning at the sound of yourself, Mike's breath hitched at your plea, slipping his fingers under your panties. You tipped your head back at the fuzzy feeling of him tracing your clit in slow circles. "Fuck..” he groaned, dipping a finger inside of you, “Look how wet you are."

He admired your parted mouth struggling to stay quiet and knitted brows before slipping another finger into you, the gentle stretch making your mind go numb.

"God, you sound so pretty," he moaned, sinking his fingers deeper, “Come on... let me hear you."

You had no choice but to let go, drowning him in your soft, involuntary sounds as his fingers curled against that perfect spot you so desperately craved.

You tried, you really did, but you just couldn’t focus on the screen when his fingers were pumping in and out of you, hitting those places that you could never reach.

"I—I can't," you whimpered, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach, you squirmed at the feeling, desperately moving your hips for more friction. He pulled his fingers out right before you could reach the edge, leaving you breathless. You couldn’t even speak, inhaling sharply as he moved off the couch and down to the floor in front of you. Tugging at the waistband of your shorts, your hips stuttered before allowing him to slip them down.

Legs closing at the sudden exposure, you looked down at him nervously.

"Keep your legs spread f’me," his voice laced with desire and desperation as he gazed up at you. He looked so pretty on his knees like this, that sleepy look filled with a drunken gaze, high off of your body. Shyly complying, you kept your eyes glued to the man in front of you, hooking his arms under your thighs, hands gripping your hips to keep you still. “Yeah, There you go..” Heart beating faster from the praise whispered into your skin, you couldn't help but bite back a whimper.

That soft sound melted into a moan as his tongue teased you, pressing your hips up against him, you quietly begged for more. Your eyes met his as you looked down, tugging at his hair, and sighing as his tongue finally pressed down on your clit. It was so hard to pay attention to anything else when he was making the sweetest noises you’ve ever heard; that pussy drunk expression driving you insane.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he groaned, blissed out and addicted from the way you tasted. He savored every sound that fell from your pretty lips, slipping his fingers back into you. A whine fell from him as you tugged on his hair once more, brain dizzy from losing yourself in pleasure. Consumed by a trance-like state, you desperately tried to control the moans spilling from your lips as he curled his fingers inside of you.

“Please" he whined breathlessly, the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of you was addicting. "Cum for me.”

That perfect movement of his tongue working against your cunt had you seeing stars as his name fell from your lips, and fuck, it sounded even better when you were moaning it. The coil in your stomach threatened to snap as his fingers moved faster, eyes shut in pure pleasure.

"Mikey," you whined, tipping your head back, "Please... I'm–" A broken moan escaped your lips as his fingers buried deep inside of you, desperate for more of those beautiful sounds.

Breathy whimpers spilled from your mouth as you teetered on the edge, finally finishing with the prettiest noise Mike swore he had ever heard. That tired gaze in your eyes made him melt, legs trembling as his fingers slipped from your aching core. He moved his head up to your flushed state, hands roaming across your body as he pressed his lips against yours so desperately; soft, needy moans muffling into the kiss. Slowly slipping his tongue into your mouth, the sweet taste of yourself on him left you weak in the knees.

Pulling back, he admired your beautiful state. Messy breathing, and tainted cheeks; he couldn’t help but bite back a smile, knowing that he was responsible for those sweet eyes and pretty sounds. "You did so good," he mumbled, still tipsy from your body as his arms wrapped around your waist. "Sorry we couldn't watch the whole movie," You collected your thoughts, shaking your head with a weak chuckle, "I enjoyed watching you more."

#mike schmidt smut #mike schimdt x reader #sub mike schmidt #i need this man #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x you #x reader #fnaf movie #josh hutcherson #smut #mike schmidt x fem!reader #fem!reader #dom!character

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fake-bleach · 3 months

Note

omg omg loved the derek fic so much, i’ll be anxiously waiting for part two ❤️🫶🏻

million dollar man | derek danforth x reader - part 2

thank you so much anon!!! so glad you liked it! :') hope you enjoy this part! <3

word count: 3.5k

warnings/disclaimers: (18+ only!) fem!reader (no use of y/n), one reference to being high, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart, girl, etc), making out/kissing, hickeys on reader, explicit consent, descriptive fingering & oral (f receiving), overstimulation (in a way), filthy dirty talk, praise w/ hardly any degradation, established control by derek, tiny bit angsty, cute fluff w/ a happy ending <3

for the biggest derek fucker i know, @sugarevans: i hope you love it just as much as i loved writing it for you 🤍

ao3 link | masterlist

read part 1 here! a lot of things might not make sense if you haven't :)

You never thought you’d ever be in this position.

Making out with Derek Danforth; hands gripping every inch of your body, high out of your mind, is something most wouldn’t ever imagine doing.

Yet, here you were, doing just that.

And hell, was it better than you ever imagined.

His lips were like fire on yours, burning you up and up the more he hungered for your kiss and touch. He was eager; desperate to taste you and everything you had to offer, something that he’s wanted for as long as he could remember.

Ever since he first saw you, he knew what he wanted, and now that he could finally have it? Nothing was stopping him.

“D-Derek,” You gasped once his lips pulled away from yours, giving you a second to breathe as your back pressed into the luxurious couch, his body on top of you, “You’re okay with this, right?”

You wanted to make sure, despite how eager you were yourself. You couldn’t help but overthink it, fighting between not wanting to give yourself to the selfish man in front of you, and wanting to give yourself up completely.

Now, all of those months convincing yourself that you didn’t want him were for nothing.

And, God, were you fucking okay with that.

He gave you a grin, letting out a small chuckle as he shook his head, almost as if you were crazy for even asking him that. “Been waiting for this forever, baby.. ‘Course I fucking am,” He breathed out, pressing kisses on your lips that slowly began to trail downwards; to your cheek, your jaw, then your neck, sending chills throughout your entire body.

You were sensitive when it came to his touch, and along with his kisses, his wandering hands couldn’t help but feel for every single part of you. One of his forearms held him up, keeping him steady as the other reached for your jaw, lifting your head up so he could have more access to your skin.

You shuddered at the feeling of his soft lips on your neck, forcing a light moan out of your mouth as he started to suck and lick, warning you of a feeling that was all too familiar.

You breathed heavily, letting out a small, “Wait,” as you attempted to relax. “I c-can’t.. go out like that if you.. do that,” You protested, hoping he understood what you meant.

And that, he did.

He pulled away for a split second, eyes looking up at you as he asserted himself confidently, the same Derek you’ve always known. “Yeah, you can, baby. Need to make sure everyone knows you’re mine now. That clear?”

You lick your lips, opening your mouth to protest again, but you don’t get very far. He tuts his tongue, expressing his disapproval as the action forces your mouth shut, “Nuh uh. You’re gonna let me do this, sweetheart. Been waiting too long now,” The hand on your jaw grips it just enough to make you focus on him, “Do I make myself clear?” He says, pausing with each word to enunciate it.

You nod immediately, every ounce of resistance you had in you disappearing as butterflies filled your stomach.

Normally, you’d put up a fight and maybe even walk out of a circumstance like this; But, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t like this side of him.

The Derek that just takes and takes. Nothing you can say no to, and willingly, you’d allow.

“Need to hear you,” He instructs, voice stern as his eyes lock into yours. Derek may be the type to always want control, but he wouldn’t ever do anything you weren’t completely okay with.

You exhale softly and nod again, complying, “Crystal clear.” Your eyes flicker from his lips, lingering there for a moment before finding his eyes again, “Make me yours.”

The strict expression on his lips immediately shifts into a smirk, those words giving him every ounce of motivation to finish what he started.

He pushes himself up for a second and presses one long kiss to your lips, filthy and passionate as ever, muttering, “That’s my girl,” before finding himself back on your neck, doing exactly what he’s intended to do for months.

With your heavy breaths and gasps of his name filling his ears, he accomplishes the task easily; leaving a trail of hickeys all around your neck and cleavage, hands gripping your tits through your shirt. The swelling of the marks that his lips captivate leave you wanting more.

More than just his lips.

You take the chance to stop him, gently pushing his head away as you whine softly, “Need more, Derek.”

He shushes you, nearly reading your mind as he begins to lower himself, keeping eye contact with you. He lifts your shirt up as he moves, exposing your stomach to press kisses along the skin, until he finally reaches the one spot he’s fantasized about for so long.

The action and the thought of what he might do to you leaves your body shuddering, anticipating his next move. You’d let him do anything he wanted now.

He slowly unbuttons your pants, taking his time as if his eyes were memorizing every second of it. You help him slip them off, lifting your hips so he can easily remove them, the cool air in the room hitting your exposed skin. You feel yourself grow wetter, desperate for him to do something, anything to you.

He takes no time to waste putting your pants aside, kneeling in between your thighs and spreading your legs. His gaze flickers from your face down to your panties, chest moving up and down as he processes the sight in front of him; your darkening eyes, legs wide open for him.

Oh, what a beauty you are.

You await his next move, biting your bottom lip as you feel your core tighten, and he finally moves; taking his hand and sliding his fingers over your clothed cunt just for a second, feeling you for the first time. You shudder, gasping at his touch as your arousal seeps through your panties. You’re growing impatient, squirming with need.

“F-Fuck, Derek, touch me, please,” You whine, hips moving a bit to get any type of friction. He just presses down on your stomach, keeping you still as he tuts. “Shh, baby. Gonna take my fuckin’ time with you. Make you feel real good, yeah?” He states, using his other hand to cup it over your cunt.

It makes you gasp, body shaking from the sudden contact again. You press your lips together, quickly nodding as you accept his terms. You couldn’t possibly say no, anyways.

“Now,” He pauses, “Close that pretty mouth of yours n’ take what I give you,” He mutters sternly, but he isn’t done. “I’m gonna tell you what I’m gonna do to you, and you’re gonna be a good girl for me. Is that right?” He asks, fingers rubbing ever so softly against you.

You nod, shakily agreeing as you hold back from moving, “T-That’s right.”

He grins. “Good. You’re real pretty when you listen to me.”

You breathe shakily, stomach fluttering from his words and watching as he lowers to lay himself directly in between your thighs, hands now gripping them with his head facing you.

“Am I not when I don’t?” You retort, taking your chance to bite back.

He chuckles, “You know you’re more than pretty, baby.. I just like you like this more.”

You wouldn’t expect any less from him and his need for you.. And, if anything? It makes you want to be more like this for him.

“Giving yourself up to me..” He hums, caressing your thigh sensually and slowly, eyes devouring you, “Now, doesn’t that feel so much better?”

Before you can respond, his thumb slides from your inner thigh to slip underneath your panties, feeling for your slick slit as you hiss at the sudden contact, skin to skin. Fuck, he was unpredictable.

You gasp softly, walls involuntarily clenching around nothing. The way he was talking to you.. It was driving you crazy.

“No more talking back, no more excuses.. Now that I got you like this, honey. Just how it should be.. How you’re meant to be.” He continues, making your heart race. You were giving yourself up to him the more he spoke; the more he made you realize just how much you needed him, too.

The powerful, superior version of yourself.. crumbling all by the hands of the man who wants to see you break.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, sweetheart..” He tells you, eyes on your face as his thumb slides through your folds, “’M gonna eat you out and make you cum on my tongue..”

The tip of his thumb sinks inside of you, forcing a moan out of your mouth. You need more, breathing heavily as you process his words, envisioning all the things he’s putting inside of your head.

“And then, I’m gonna do it.. Again, and again, until you can’t anymore.”

His thumb then slips out of you, moving and using his fingers to hook itself at the hem of your panties, pulling them off of you roughly. It’s quick and seamless, leaving you completely exposed for him, legs spread wide enough for him to fix on your glistening core immediately.

His fingers glide in between your throbbing lips, soaked beyond your control as he grunts at the sight and feeling. “Fuck yeah, baby.. So fuckin’ wet, shit.”

He can hardly control himself, slowly inserting two of his thick, long fingers inside of you, the lewd sound coaxing a laugh out of his throat. He pumps his fingers deliberately, eyes indecisive on where to linger; your face or your cunt. He picks the latter, gaze fixed on your walls gripping his digits, memorizing the way you take them, squelching and slick with your arousal.

Your pants drive his movements faster, moaning his name softly as your core tightens each time his fingers slowly begin to fill you to the hilt, knuckle-deep inside of you.

You whine loudly, incoherent noises escaping your lips as you look down at him, squirming. “There we go, baby.. Look at how good you’re takin’ it.. pretty pussy begging for more.” He praises, taking his sweet time to pull his fingers out of you, watching how your hole closes from how empty you are.

Before you can register the feeling, he leans forward, sticking out his tongue to lick a stripe against your folds, the tip of it hitting your swollen clit. It makes your body jolt, the shock of the sensation igniting your nerves. It’s been a long fucking time since you’ve felt this good.

He moans out, breath hitting your cunt as it sends shivers down your spine. “Tastes fuckin’ good, baby.. Gonna fuck you with my tongue now, yeah?” He mutters, words hardly coherent enough for you before he latches his mouth around your clit, sucking it softly.

You cry out at the feeling, involuntarily squirming away as it overwhelms you. He was so fucking quick; desperate and needy. Before you could pull away from him, his arms wrap around your thighs, roughly pulling you close. He traps you with his hold, tongue now exploring your folds and devouring you like a starved man.

“Derek! O-Oh, fuck!” You groan, shutting your eyes tightly as your body overtakes you, short and quick breaths filling his ears. You feel him chuckle, sending small vibrations through your core as he slides his tongue inside of your hole, thrusting it in and out of you. His thumb then moves up to your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles against it, wanting to feel you shake.

And, you do, as your walls clench around his tongue, body writhing hastily, overwhelmed with pleasure and that familiar build growing inside of you. Your hand reaches for his hair, gripping the bleached locks that give you a single ounce of control.

Your grasp allows you to push his face further into your cunt, grinding yourself against his mouth as you chase your high, crying his name out as if it were the only word you knew. Your stomach fills with warmth, breaths quickening as you cum shakily on his tongue without any warning.

You moan out his name one last time, convulsing around him as you increasingly grow sensitive, releasing your grip on his hair. He doesn’t let up though, and your nerves gradually become delicate, forcing a whine out of you; a protest. “N-No.. No more, Derek, fuck, I c-can’t, please.” You stammer out, trying to writhe away from his grasp.

He only takes a second to pull away from you, shaking his head disapprovingly as he pulls you back to him, reestablishing his grasp on your thighs even tighter than before.

He looks up at you, eyes hungry for more, “That was only one, honey. Not enough. C’mon, know you can give me another, yeah.. Just one more..” He encourages you, using one of the hands wrapped around your thigh to give it small rubs, soothing your trembling body.

Your body involuntarily twitches, overstimulated from your first orgasm and the continuous contact on your skin. You just nod at him though, letting out a small “okay” so he can verbally hear it; something you’re starting to know that he likes from you.

He grins up at you, evidently satisfied at your actions. “There we go, you’re getting it now.. Such a good fucking girl.”

His praises cause your face to heat up, his approval of you becoming the one thing you never thought you’d need from him.

Turns out, you’re finding out a lot of things about yourself tonight that you didn’t know.

You take a deep breath in preparation, watching one of his arms unrestrain your thigh, hand moving towards your core. He glances back to your face, then to your pussy, pressing the tip of his index and middle finger to your entrance. You watch his face as he licks his lips, pressing them in slowly, almost excruciatingly slow.

You whine, the force of his fingers making your walls constrict around them, and your heart beats rapidly everywhere. You’re still tight, and he can feel it too.

He lets out a laugh as his eyes flicker to your face to watch it twist, and it feels mean. “You’re still so fucking tight, holy shit,” He chuckles again, fingers pulling out of you to rest against your hole, and shoving it back in deliberately. You cry out his name, incoherent words spilling out of your lips as you squirm away from him again.

He mutters out, “No, no, no, stay here, baby, come on,” and his large arm reaches to grip your waist, pulling you back to him once again. His forearm stays against your stomach now, pinning you into the couch so you can’t possibly move away. “Yeah, yeah, there y’go.” He draws out.

“Just gotta let yourself go, sweetheart.. Don’t fight it, c’mon..”

Your eyes shut tightly, and you listen to him, letting yourself go. The control in your body begins to fade, and he takes it as a sign to continue; fucking his thick fingers back into your cunt with an increasing pace and force.

You feel so full with him, but just as you think that, he adds a third finger, stretching you out further as he quickens his thrusts.

The lewd noises fill the room, your soaked folds flowing onto his hand and growing louder the faster he moves. Your pussy takes his fingers eagerly, engulfing them seamlessly. “Wish you could see what I’m seein’, honey.. Your cunt gripping every inch of my fucking fingers, fuck, so fuckin’ pretty. Doing so good, baby, I know it feels so good, huh?” His words are too much for you, along with his fingers moving so fast from how soaked you were.

They start to pound into that one spot inside of you that has you seeing stars, and you convulse around them, body twitching, but hardly affecting Derek from his harsh grip on you. It keeps you still for him, never stopping his moves as he lets out whispers of encouragement to you, praising you absentmindedly and breathing heavily against your cunt.

“Yeah, yeah, give it to me, baby, cum on my fucking fingers, please.” He whines out, his hips grinding against the couch, almost as if he was getting off to your own pleasure. You shake against him, chest heaving up and down as that heat in your core builds and builds, finally releasing as you climax with his name on your tongue.

You nearly scream it, unable to control yourself as your eyes roll to the back of your head, your walls clenching around his fingers over and over again uncontrollably. He stops his movements now, letting you come down from it slowly, pulling his fingers out of you as you tremble.

As you take deep breaths, heartbeat slowing, you flutter your eyes open to look at Derek, watching as he inserts his fingers in his mouth to taste you. He pulls them out with a pop and moves himself to lay over you, using his clean hand to move your hair out of your face.

He praises you, pressing a small kiss to your forehead with his eyes looking at you with so much pride. “Did so fucking good for me, baby. Knew you could do it, fuck yeah.” He hums, now pressing a kiss to your lips.

You accept it greedily, placing your hands on his chest, wanting to be as close to him as possible. Your feelings for him were overwhelming; one night of pleasure causing you to confront every thought & emotion you’ve ever had of him. And the way he was treating you now? God, it made it even harder for you to feel subtle about it.

And, maybe.. Just maybe.. it was because he was the best fuck you’ve ever had.

But, despite how sensitive you were, you couldn’t help but want more. And besides, you wanted him to feel good too, after bringing you so much satisfaction.

“Thank you, Derek.. B-But, what about you?” You asked shakily, body still trembling from your peak. He shook his head, caressing your face gently as he spoke, “Nah, baby, this was all about you.. It’s always been.. about you. To make you feel good.”

You let out a small laugh and shook your head yourself, in denial of it all. Did he really care for you this much?

Before you can ask him anything, he continues, spilling out every ounce of vulnerability he could allow himself to. “Took my chance after waiting all these months. I couldn’t just let myself be so.. selfish.. Not this one time.. Yeah?” He cocked his head, trying to see if you understood or not. He seemed almost jittery; nervous and anxious to even be telling you this.

You knew he was taking such a big leap to be telling you these things.. To be acting this way.

It didn’t go unnoticed by you at all.

You took the chance to joke with him, trying to ease the tension in the room. “Derek Danforth.. Not.. being selfish? Never thought I’d see the day.” You giggled, hoping he’d take it how you intended it to.

His head lowers to look down at your hands on him for a second, licking his lips as he takes his time to think about what to say to you. He takes a deep breath, looking back up at you as he sighs out.

“I’m trying..” He pauses, inhaling sharply, “Not.. to be.”

Your smile fades from your face, lips parting as you take in his words. It hits you, making you realize just how much he’s trying.

“At least.. Not with you, baby,” He purses his lips, swallowing, “Don’t wanna be selfish with you.. Not.. not anymore.”

You give him a small, gentle smile, nodding slowly in hopes to encourage him. You want him to open up to you; it’s all you’ve ever wanted from him.

“Derek, I..” You start, but he cuts you off.

“I know I.. I’ve been an asshole, to everyone, to you.. But, I don’t wanna be the guy.. That doesn’t deserve you anymore,” He admits quickly, almost wanting to rush it out before he bails out on it.

“I-I.. want to be the guy that does.”

He finally confesses it.. the one thing that’s been holding him down; the one thing that he’s finally managed to realize.

It wasn’t just you that captivated him.

It was the drive to change for you that did.

You let out a relieving breath, shutting your eyes as you press a passionate, genuine kiss on his lips. He takes it gratefully, sighing into your mouth as if the weight of the entire world was lifted off his shoulders.

You pull away from him, grinning as your glazed eyes glimmer at him.

“That’s a start, baby.. You’re already a mile ahead of that.” You tell him, honest and real; vulnerable yourself.

Maybe, Derek Danforth was more than capable of change.

Maybe.. Derek Danforth wasn’t so selfish after all.

Now, it was your chance to find out.

a/n: thank you so much for reading! i loved writing this and i might add onto it when writing for derek again to stay in this little world! :)

feedback & reblogs are always greatly appreciated <3

#derek danforth #derek danforth x reader #derek danforth x you #derek danforth fic #derek danforth smut #derek danforth x reader smut #derek danforth fanfiction #the beekeeper #the beekeeper fanfiction #mike schimdt x reader #peeta mellark x reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson characters #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson character fic #josh hutcherson x you #fake-bleach #my writing

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psychedelic-ink · 5 months

Text

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒

ㅤㅤghostface!mike schmidt x afton daughter!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, dark content, ghostface au

word count: 4.5k

summary: how were you supposed to know one of your closest friends was also the one in desperate need for revenge?

warnings: dubcon (this can also be considered noncon to some since there's the fear of death in place so if that's not your thing please don't read), knife use, manipulation, voyeurism but no one actually sees, daddy kink, piv, blowjob, nonconsensual somnophilia, male masturbation, reader doesn't know what william did, dirty talking, creampie

a/n: a day late but happy thanksgiving everyone 🖤 i am thankful for my josh hutcherson phase (normally I was going to post this yesterday but oh well you get it)

**dividers made by @saradika xx

How long has it been since you came here? How long has it been since you witnessed the clean beige exterior that now looked more suffocating than liberating?

You observe the dust over the picture frames as you drop the suitcases, the sudden release of weight making your back bend back like a bow. You stare for a while. Your dad had bought this particular vacation home ages ago. Ironically he had done it so the family could spend some quality time together over the summers. That was before the incident. Before your mom left, only leaving you and him.

Now the dirt outside was muddy from the pouring rain. Leaves turning to mush under the pressure of tires and boots. You hear the faint sound of the car door closing. Moments later Mike stands behind you. You can feel his breath tickling the back of your neck. It soothes you.

“So this is the famous summer house huh?” he looks around, not bothering to close the door behind him, he takes a step further. “God, it’s cold in here. Please tell me there’s a heater somewhere.”

“Probably in the basement. Remind you this place wasn’t meant for winter.”

“Yeah I can see that from the windows,” he turns and finally closes the door. “It’s a bit eerie that anyone might just watch us from down there.”

You scoff, “Who’s gonna watch? This house is the only one. Besides it’s just a couple days.”

Your dad was finally selling the place. Meaning you had limited time to pack the things you wanted to keep before the rest was torn out. You knew packing all the old pictures would be overwhelming so you asked Mike to join and he was more than eager to help out—which was a bit surprising but you were grateful nonetheless. He was always kind to you. Always so gentle. He made your heart jump whenever he looked into your eyes, observing, searching them for something more. You never knew what he was searching for.

Mike walks ahead with just his backpack, he’s wearing all black: black hoodie, black pants, black jacket. . . he’s completely contrasting his surroundings. He turns to you with rounded eyes and you melt a little.

“So where am I staying?”

“Let me show you,” It’s odd being in the halls again, you remember them feeling endless when you were a kid. The floor underneath you creaks. “Luckily we have a bunch of rooms. I don’t know what my parents were thinking, it’s not like we entertained a lot of guests.”

“Well, it worked out in the end. Now I have a place to say.”

“Silver lining,” you agree, showing his room. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to head to bed and we can brainstorm where to start in the morning.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he steps inside the room and you can’t help but be reminded of how out of place he looks. “Good night.”

“Good night, Mike.”

He stands at the door with furrowed brows and downturned lips. Not that it’s important what his expression is. It’s not like anyone can see it underneath his mask. The mask that he’d bought last second. It is now or never. And this is his chance to avenge his brother, his broken family. This is the solution to all of it.

It doesn’t help that you’re soundly sleeping. Your lips slightly parted, more skin showing with each rise and fall of your chest. Mike takes a step further inside. The wind howls against the naked windows. Yet, your room managed to stay warm. You turn around to lay on your back and he sees you parting your legs underneath the comforter. His cock grows hard at the sight, he’d love to take you right now. Fuck you until you gasp awake, your sweet cunt dripping with arousal—you’d tell him to stop, not recognizing who he is and he’d go on until you’re creaming around him. Your body becoming sweaty and warm.

Mike licks his lips and rubs a palm over the outline of his cock. His eyes search your room. You hadn’t unpacked yet. Your suitcase open with clothes pouring out the edges. You probably just picked that flimsy shirt you were wearing and headed to bed. He slowly walks to the pile of clothes, within, he finds a pair of black lace underwear. Mike picks it up. A gloved thumb follows the patterns of delicate flowers. His lips curl upward, just what you were planning on doing with him here? In your old family home where it’s just the two of you?

He stands at the edge of your bed. He’s amazed at how much he can get away with without waking you. It’s amazing how much you trust him without a second thought.

Too bad he doesn’t trust you.

With your panties, he fists his cock, the fabric catches against the head prompting the jerk of his hips. He strokes himself fast and hard. Precome seeping into the delicate fabric. His eyes are glued to your lips, the pacing of your breath, your body that’s sprawled underneath the sheets. His cock twitches. Balls tightening as he imagines the sounds you would make for him with a knife against your throat and him deep inside your cunt.

The smallest of groans manage to escape him as he spills into his fist and the fabric, thick ropes of come staining your panties, he inches closer. Hips stuttering helplessly while wishing to see himself dirty your pretty parted lips. He knows he will soon enough. He sees the way you look at him, how desperate you are for affection and a sense of belonging. Mike enjoys the sense of control he has over you. It makes it all that much more sweeter.

He’ll take you. Break you. And pull you back together again.

He’ll ruin William Afton’s precious little girl.

You’re blessed with a little bit of sun today. Bits of dust sway in the air, boxes upon boxes standing around you and Mike. Two empty coffee cups lay idly on the floor. You slept like a baby last night, which was something you hadn’t expected, yet when you woke up you felt a bit off. Your door was open for starters. And you definitely remember closing it. Mike had just shrugged it off, saying that you were tired and probably forgot.

Which is likely, now that you think about it.

Mike picks up one of the framed photos of you and your dad. Despite the sunlight filling the living room, a chill settles over your skin. He observes the photo longer than necessary. Then he traces the engraved name underneath the picture.

“Afton,” he murmurs. “I keep forgetting you’re an Afton.”

He doesn’t let go of the picture as his eyes meet yours, you don’t like the look in them. He almost seems angry.

“What does it matter?” you say in a sheer tone. “It’s not like it means anything whether I’m an Afton or not.”

“I’d beg the differ. And I know some other people would too.”

Mike places the photo in a box, eyes dropping to the floor. Heat rises to your cheeks. You’re confused. Very confused. “Are talking about Freddy Fazbear’s? You know I don’t like talking about that Mike.”

“No need to get defensive. I’m just saying that your surname isn’t nothing,” he gives you a small smile but it does little to calm your nerves. “You were never suspicious of him?”

“Of what?”

He gives you a blank stare, “Of the murders.”

Your mouth opens and very promptly snaps shut. Mike was never interested in this before. He hadn’t even asked about it, not once. Your shoulders drop and your heart feels heavy in your chest—Were you ever suspicious of him? Of your own father? To be fair you never thought about it. You shut your eyes and plugged your ears. You never wanted to think about that wretched pizzeria and all the things that happened in it.

Your stomach jumps when he reaches out, curling his palm over the slope of your knee. You release a long breath.

“Sorry for bringing it up,” he says, his eyes now soft. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“That’s okay.” It wasn’t. You get up, feeling the weight of his gaze as you do. “Alright, I think I’m gonna take a brisk shower then we can make pasta or something.”

“I can start on that,” he answers. “Pesto or marinara?”

“You can pick. I’m fine with either.”

He nods and you leave before he stands. You feel icky all over. The dust and the sudden reality check about your father’s pizzeria and his role in all that had happened make you desperate to scrub yourself clean.

You swiftly enter the bathroom, shutting the door behind you, giving it a hard shove until you hear the satisfying click. The inside smells of lavender.

You strip and throw your clothes into the washing machine. The water warms up easily when you step inside. You draw the curtain shut and sigh at the clean water caressing your skin. Warm showers are the solution to everything. Even daddy issues. You begin to wash your hair, a soft moan dropping from your lips as you massage your scalp. The water trickles down your neck and between your breasts. With soapy hands, you give yourself a firm squeeze and graze your thumbs over the pebbled nipples.

“That’s nice,” you sigh, hands moving up to rinse your hair. Maybe after the shower you can lay down and treat yourself until lunch is ready. Your vibrator’s fully charged, and the prospect of Mike hearing the faint buzz of it makes your pussy throb.

Just as you reach for the loofah a soft click echoes in the steamy room.

Your body tenses. Your heart suddenly beating a mile a minute.

Your eyes turn in the direction of the door but you can’t see well with the curtain. All you see is the blurry darkness of the hall thanks to the open entrance. “Mike?” you call out, voice trembling. “If that’s you it’s not funny.”

Of course, it’s not him. Even from here, you can smell the pasta sauce. Pesto. You desperately search for any kind of weapon you can use but all you see are shampoo bottles and the loofah you’re currently holding. You swallow. Turning back to the curtain, you see a faint shadow. It tilts its head.

You need to attack. Need to do something before they do. How did they even get in here?

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

But you’re frozen with fear as the stranger curls their fingers around the shower curtain. The rest happens suddenly. The curtain is ripped open and you see who it is—Mostly. You see the mask, two pitch-black eyes staring back at you. Instead of screaming you jump away, the porcelain slips from underneath you, you fall and as soon as you do, you’re swallowed by darkness.

Your eyes flutter open. There’s a sharp sting against your forehead.

“Thank god you’re awake.”

“M—Mike?”

Your vision stops shaking and you finally see him. Mike, and his two soft brown eyes staring down at you. He’s holding a ball of cotton, the white stained by a bit of red. “What. . .” You attempt to get up but quickly forgo your decision when your head throbs. Mike clicks his tongue and presses the cotton to your head, your eyes tear up as it stings, but it slightly subsides seconds later. Looking down, you notice a towel was thrown over you.

“I should be asking you that, how the hell did you slip?”

“I. . . I didn’t.”

“What do you mean you didn’t?”

“There. . there was someone in the shower,” Your blood freezes as you remember. “He. . .I think it was a he? He was wearing a mask and he opened the curtain and fuck—I was so scared Mike.”

Your arms move on their own and wrap around his neck, pulling him close. It takes him only a second to mimic your movement, wrapping his arms around your cold shivering body. His fingers trace your spine. A pleasant shiver runs up your back. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now,” he murmurs. “But. . . the door was closed.”

What? “What?” You shake your head as you pull away from him, ignoring the towel slightly sliding lower. “There’s no way. How did you see me then?”

“Well, I shouted for you but you didn’t respond. Then I knocked and you didn’t respond again. The door wasn’t locked so I let myself in.”

“And you found me unconscious? No one was here?”

“Only you.”

You shudder. That’s absolutely terrifying.

“Come on let’s. . .” he swallows and you notice his eyes lingering where your towel has fallen. The swell of your breasts exposed. Looking away, you pull the fabric up and properly wrap it around yourself. His eyes move up to meet your gaze. “Let’s get you dressed and then we can eat.”

Your last night here. Finally.

After the unfortunate fall in the shower, you never managed to shake the feeling of being watched in your own house. You didn’t say anything to Mike but you knew he saw how freaked out you were from your eyes, by the way you would jump at every sound. Every time you closed your eyes you saw the stranger’s mask—those damn black sockets and open mouth staring back at you. It didn’t help that every morning you found your door wide open. You could’ve sworn that you closed it. But without fail, the door was open in the morning.

And you’re so grateful to be done with it all.

Stacks of boxes stand tall near the door. You were adamant about having everything ready tonight so that as soon as the sun peaked through the two of you could leave. Which was why you had ordered Mike to pack his suitcase— you’re doing the same, folding clothes with shaky hands and hoping the morning would come faster.

Throwing your shirt into the suitcase your brows furrow, “What the hell?” you murmur as you lower yourself to your knees. The drawers and closet are emptied out, so why the hell do you only have three pairs of underwear?

Sweat beads at your forehead. With panic, you rummage through the neatly folded clothes. You don’t care about the mess or the fact that you’ll have to fold them again—why can’t you find the other pairs?

You’re completely defeated as your entire body deflates. Just three. You remember packing ten. They’re gone. All gone. Stolen.

Your heart lurches and you feel it beating in your throat. You want to leave. You want to leave. You want to leave.

The phone rings.

It’s loud and booming. Your eyes shot towards the hallway. It’s the landline. A phone that hadn’t been used for god knows how long. You weren’t even aware that it was still connected.

You blink rapidly, forcing the sting of tears to fade. You stand on shaky legs as you head towards the phone in the living room. You vaguely hear Mike mumbling a melody that’s familiar but also not at the same time.

You stare at your reflection in the widows as you pick up the phone. Normally you’d appreciate the view. The dark sky, the swaying pine trees. But not today.

You clear your throat, “H—Hello?”

You hear a faint static, a low internal breathing, then the silence talks back, saying your name. You shudder at the rasp in his voice, fear weighing you down and gluing you to the floor. “Who is this?” you ask.

“You know who I am,” he murmurs and takes a deep inhale. “We’ve met before remember? That moment in the bathroom.” Your body freezes all over, he chuckles, then speaks as if reminiscing a fond memory. “You looked so amazing. Nipples hard, body wet. Were you touching yourself?”

You remain silent, eyes glued to the hall that is lit by Mike’s room. You want to call out. You really do. But you’re terrified.

“Was it him you were thinking about?”

“That’s. . .” you swallow. “That’s none of your business.”

“Everything you do is my business,” he snaps but then the harsh baritone of his voice quickly softens. “Fine. Don’t. I know the answer anyway.”

“What do you want?”

“I want the truth, Miss Afton.” Your breath catches, your knees begin to shake. “Just answer my question and maybe you won’t die.”

You remain silent and you hear the smile in his voice, “Good girl. Now, do you know your father is a murderous piece of trash? Yes or no?”

You close your eyes, shake your head, you can’t answer. “Fine,” he huffs. “Do you think you deserve to live?”

“I. . .” Your mouth goes dry and your fingers tighten around the phone. “I do.”

Honestly, you’re not sure if you believe that.

“Oh, I’m sorry but that’s just not correct,” he answers with a melodic lilt. “You don’t deserve anything. Why should your life matter more than the other kids that were killed by your father?”

“It shouldn’t.”

Your voice barely comes out in a whisper now. Your eyes drop to the floor, maybe if you run and get to Mike in time you can save you both?

“Is your dad a killer yes or no?” then he adds. “You better answer correctly this time.”

“I don’t know,” you say this time, he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

“Wrong.” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath you open them again. All you see is your reflection. “I’ve been watching you,” he says. “You sleep like a log. I watched you. Fucked my fist while you were sleeping soundly, dreaming of sunshine and rainbows,” he sighs. “Or whatever the fuck girls like you dream about.”

You’re appalled by the sudden gush of wetness that courses through you. You shake your head, trying to push the images away. “Please don’t do this,” you beg.

He stops speaking for a good while, for a second you think he hung up, but then you hear his breath in your ear and know that he’s still there. “I keep forgetting.”

“Forgetting what?”

“That you’re an Afton.”

Your heart drops to the pits of your stomach. Every fiber of skin burning and tingling with the realization. You’ve heard those words before. You’ve heard the hidden accusation in them. Your ear burns from the phone pressed against it, you press it harder, not wanting to miss a second of dialogue. Your lips brush against the plastic as you do.

“Mike?”

The line goes dead. Silent. And you realize you preferred words coming from the other line. Tortorously slow, as if in a dream, you place the phone back in its cradle. You feel him before you see him. Your head turns. You feel every muscle pulling as you do.

And there he is.

The man with the mask.

“Mike?” you say again with less conviction. He tilts his head, not moving, not saying anything. Your body stiffens and your eyes drop to his hands where you see the sharp edge of a knife. You drag your gaze back to the mask, hoping that you’re staring into his eyes, “Why?”

He takes a step forward and you take a step back. You’re inches away from the wide windows. “I had a brother,” he says, you’re surprised to find yourself relaxing upon hearing his voice. “I’ve tracked down the suspects. Looked at similar cases for years. Every bit of information leads to Afton.”

“I had nothing to do with it.”

Another step. The glass is cool underneath your palms.

“You father did,” he answers. He stands only an inch away now, your stomach jumps when he presses the sharp edge of the knife against your neck. You hold your breath. “The day he took him is the day I lost everything. My family shattered. All because of him. And now. . .” Mike presses the knife harder, a hint of pain blossoming from where he’d cut. Your eyes snap shut. “Now I’ll take his little girl. Eye for an eye.”

“Mike, please,” you whisper. Then you say something that surprises you both. “Take off the mask. If I’m going to die, I want to see you.”

He tenses but obliges anyway. The mask falls to the floor, his hair mussed, soft curls fall over his forehead. A bit of stubble on his chin from not shaving at all since you two arrived. He doesn’t look scary, not at all. He looks vengeful, yes, but the softness in his eyes is still there.

“What are you going to do to me?”

Mike’s nostrils flare as he inhales, he exhales through parts lips, you feel his warm breath on your skin. “I’m going to ruin you.” The knife is replaced with his hand, he squeezes your throat, pulls you away from the glass, and slams you into it. “You’re mine now. I own you.”

You shudder as he lets you go, his hands fumble with his jeans, and the fabric pools at his ankles. “Get on your knees and suck daddy’s cock.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed but do as you’re told anyway. You drop to your knees. His cock achingly hard in front of you. He holds himself and drags the wet tip across your lips. He slides the underside of his cock against your face and without thought you dart your tongue out, tasting him. Mike groans, the sound rattling in his chest. With no warning given, he slips his cock between your lips and stops halfway. Your eyes water at how thick he is.

When you look up you see he’s holding his phone, camera directed at you with his cock in your mouth. “Sorry,” he says with a faint smirk. “I need a souvenir to remember how good you look with my cock in your mouth. Who knew Afton’s precious daughter was such a slut.”

Your eyes flutter as he shoves the phone back into his jacket pocket. He cradles your head and starts fucking himself deep into your mouth. “You know,” he rasps. Mike pushes himself especially deep and smiles broadly when you choke around him. “You really should be thanking me for not slitting your throat during all the nights I watched you.”

He suddenly stops and pulls out until it’s only the head between your lips. His cock throbs on your tongue, he forces your gaze up to him, “Thank me for not slitting your throat.”

“Thank—” It’s hard to speak with him still between your lips. You swallow and try again, your nipples tight. “Thank you for not slitting my throat.”

“Such an obedient girl,” he muses. “I’m going to fuck you in every corner of this house. Get up—”

He says that but lifts you himself, impatient, he presses you against the window, your cheek smushed against the clear surface. Your neck strains a little. His breath caresses the back of your neck, his lips on your ear, “Time to pay for your father’s sins.”

Mike lifts your shirt and pulls down your sweats. His cock lays heavy above the small of your back. Warm and wet. You clench as he pushes you forward, your breasts fully pressed against the glass. He kicks your legs apart, holding your arms back, Mike slips inside you with ease. Your breath halts in your throat. You only feel pleasure. You drip down his length, and with a groan, he buries himself to the hilt.

“I knew you’d been waiting for this,” he groans. “So fucking wet—”

“M—Mike—”

He clicks his tongue and cocks his head to the side, his forehead brushing against the back of your head. “Not Mike.”

“Daddy,” you moan as he pulls out and slams back in. You choke. “Daddy—”

Mike fucks into your harder, the sound of skin against skin echoes in the room, wet squelches following. Your knees shake as you find yourself completely immobile against the glass. His fingers curl around your neck and he yanks your head back, hips relentless.

“Look at that, anyone could see you now. I wish we had an audience.” Your cunt squeezes him like a vice, his hips stutter forward, a sharp moan rattling in his throat. He laughs. “Does that turn you on?” Helpless, you nod. “That’s it, take it. Daddy’s whore.”

“Kiss me—please—”

The plea takes him by surprise, he stops, hand tensing around your neck, you feel the pulse of his cock deep inside you. He drags his hips down your neck and teases you with his teeth. Goosebumps rise over your skin. And finally—finally—those perfect plush lips meet your own. It’s cruel really. The red strings of fate that tie you two together. You’re still not sure what to make of it all. Or of him. But you surrender. You surrender to his mouth and tongue. Mike swallows you whole. His tongue moves lavishly over yours, sliding and sucking as he presses harder inside you.

“Gonna come inside,” he breathes into your mouth. His hand drops between your legs, your body shaking as he draws tight circles around your clit.

Mike’s lips meet your throat, gentle then ravenous, making their way to the blankets of your clavicle, scraping the delicate skin. You arch against him, pleasure building, craving more. He thrusts harder, deeper, the pleasure increasing with each movement. His fingers grab your hips, and you can feel yourself tightening around him, his cock slamming against your core inside of you. Obscene sounds come from where he’s playing with your clit. You feel like a rag doll. And soon the coil snaps, you’re falling.

Your entire body goes tense, his name leaving your lips in an urgent plea as the pleasure overtakes you. You shake and tremble, Mike continues to hammer into you, hand leaving your core and bracing itself near your head. Briefly, you manage to look outside. See the darkness that looms over the forest. Then you notice his reflection in the glass, eyes meeting yours.

He smiles.

Mike moans loudly, lips parting, his hips stutter over and over, spilling himself inside. Your eyes roll back, a whimper falling from your mouth as you take all of it. He holds himself there until his come starts to drip from where he stretches you. Your forehead finds purchase on the glass. Cold and soothing. His lips brush the back of your neck.

“You look so tired already but we’re not done yet,” he parts your lips with his fingers and pushes them inside. Teary, you find his eyes in the reflection once more. He’s pleased. “I was serious in what I said, Miss Afton. I own you, now.”

“Mike. . .”

“And no matter where you run off to,” he murmurs, cutting you off. A hint of annoyance in using his name. “I’ll always come back.”

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x fem!reader #mike schmidt x f!reader #dark mike schmidt #ghostface au #ghost face!mike schmidt #josh hutcherson character fanfic #fnaf fanfic #five night at freddy's fanfic #tw daddy kink #tw dubcon

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freak-accident419 · 4 months

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Good Looking Boy

Billy (Burn 2019) x GN!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: On a chilly December night, you and Billy catch up. Then, you make an important decision.

Word Count: 3.1k

Content: gender neutral reader, fluff, cursing, alcohol, mention of holidays (gift giving), slight suggestive comment

(A/n: thank you to everyone for all your support for this short multiple-part fic! It means so much to me! I hope I did its finale justice :) also credit to the person who suggested a bar scene !)

You watched him take a short sip of his beer as you fidgeted with your bottle.

You two agreed that you would catch up at this bar at the corner of the street when you were done with your shift. It has only been a few weeks since you’ve last seen him, but it felt like forever to you, hence the slight awkwardness in the atmosphere.

“So… did you pay off your debt…?” You ask hesitantly, continuing to fidget with the beer bottle in front of you. You finally looked at him, observing his brown eyes softening at the sight of you. The right side of his face was still scarred by the second-degree burn that hot coffee gave him. But you’ve only ever seen him like this, and so, to you, he still looked as handsome as he was since you last saw him.

“Yeah, I… I paid them off,” he answered bluntly.

“And the thing with the bikers? Are you… on good terms with them now?”

In response, he let out a scoff and a quiet chuckle, shaking his head.

“Ugh, dude, what did you do?” You say with exasperation, though amused by his lighthearted manner.

“They wanted the money, but, um… They all sort of… still hate me, so… those assholes gave me a warning: if they see my face again, they’ll kill me, so…” He trails off, taking a fairly tame swig of alcohol before he continues. You noticed that he seemed calmer since you’ve last seen him. As if he worked on himself, his temper, and spontaneous vulgarity. You admired that. “I’m gonna have to go. Unwillingly leave town, you know.”

“Damn,” you mutter, briefly sipping your drink. “That was your initial plan anyways though, right? To, like, just leave this place?”

He let out a soft sigh, which slightly puzzled you. Why did he seem so disappointed?

“Before I was on my way to meet up with them, I just… I got the idea that maybe I just shouldn’t leave. I thought that, um… leaving someplace that’s, uh… desirable… would be a very idiotic thing for me to do,” he explains, only baffling you even more.

“Okay? But you said it yourself, after you paid them off, you wanted to leave town and start anew, have a fresh start. What makes Upstate New York so… great, I guess, that you don’t want to leave?” You inquire with a lighthearted chuckle.

He fidgets with his beer bottle anxiously before looking back at you to answer. “You…”

You were stunned. You opened your mouth slightly to respond, but no words came out. You didn’t know him too well—but after an hour of being stuck together, you knew him enough, at the very least. But why did you have such an impact on him? You guessed that you had an indubitable liking for him too—similar to a childlike crush, though fueled solely by shared trauma. But you never really thought of it that much until now.

“Billy, I…” you stuttered out. “I… I mean… You had a whole plan, I… I just don’t understand. I like you, Billy, but… why should I be the reason you would want to stay here? You don’t really know me…”

“Well…” He wanted to argue that you two already learned a lot about each other from the time you’ve spent together, but even he realized it would be faulty reasoning. “Fuck, I want to get to know you better, then,” he urged gently.

He looked down at your hands, which were on the table near your drink. He reached his hands towards yours hesitantly, giving you a look by the raise of his eyebrows that asked for your permission. You nodded, watching him finally grab your hands, observing your one wrist, in which the bruise from the zip tie was completely gone. He tenderly rubbed his thumb over your wrists and palms. You felt the warm metal of his ring run against your skin as he would move his index finger. The slightly red dent on his wrist that you last saw on the day you escaped had also disappeared entirely. So it seemed like the only thing that followed him—the only thing that haunted him ever since the gas station, was his burn scar.

“I just…” he began, continuing to look down at your hands as he caressed them. It was something he did a lot, you noticed. You think it calmed him down. “I don’t know why I’m so… pulled to you. It’s fucking stupid, I know, and I’ve probably sounded like a dumbass this entire time, but… I mean it when I say I want to get to know you.”

You stared down at your hands in his, unsure of how you felt. “Well… The bikers, they said that they were gonna kill you if they see your face again. That’s, like… implying they want you out of town. You have to go, Billy. You can’t, shit, risk your life for me.”

“That’s why I want you to run away with me,” he urged softly.

“Billy—”

“I want you to come with me,” he pleads. In his mind, Billy thought it was quite ironic how he wanted you to go with him so badly; he rejected Melinda almost immediately when she asked to go with him. But this was different. You weren’t Melinda. You were you. And he desperately wanted to leave with you. But there seemed to be no way for that to happen.

“Billy, we already talked about this. I… I can’t just leave everything I have here behind,” you reason. “Plus, it’s been weeks ever since I last saw you. You had all this time to come see me, where have you been?”

He pursed his lips. “After the bikers gave me a few ‘friendly’ warning shots, I sort of left immediately. I just kept going west. Stayed in a couple motels. But it just… felt wrong, you know? I felt empty and… fuck, out of place… So, I guess I just… came back here to see you one more time…” he confessed, making your heart beat faster and face warmer. Nobody has ever done this grand of a gesture for you. You almost felt bad. You had made a deep connection with him back at the gas station, and suddenly you were worth a lot to him. “Shit, I… I honestly couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted to, because I knew it would be… really fucking bad if I tried to come back, but… You were always on my mind. Every second, I… thought about your laughter, and your voice, and I didn’t want to forget it. And-and most of all, you saved my life.” You frowned, because you considered it as a team effort, rather. “Something finally good in my life, for the first fucking time, happened to me and I can’t just—just stand by and let it just leave while I could do something about it.”

You were surprised, to say the least. You never knew you could be this important to someone, let alone someone you’ve only been around with for less than a day. “Billy, I—” You stammered with fluster. “I have to admit, I thought about you multiple times ever since. I sort of always wished I’d run into you whenever I went to a gas station. I think I even dreamed about you multiple times… To be honest, I always thought what would’ve happened if I said yes before and left with you.” He felt your thumb trace delicately along the back of his hand. “Never thought I’d ever think of a gas station robber as handsome and charming.” He chuckled softly in response, his lips forming into a cute, flattered smile.

“I love that you’re here, really. I love that you came back to see me,” You told him. “But… like I said, I can’t come with you.” You would love to, however, you knew it. But you couldn’t just leave everything you had here behind… Could you?

He sighed softly. “Okay, I understand,” he says. “But shit, just… Let me get to know you better before I have to leave for sure. Please. How about I just take you for a drive, then? Just around the block?”

Billy was heavily insistent. After all, he always goes for what he wants.

“The both of us have been drinking, Billy,” you say with guilt. You hated constantly rejecting him. You did want to get to know him better, you did want to spend time with him, but the circumstances and motives were utterly complicated.

You chuckled a bit, however, sort of amused by how much he wanted to be around you. “I don’t know, you can’t just, like… enjoy the moment right now?” You ask as you two look back down at your hands, which were being gently rubbed against each other, Billy’s thumb caressing the back of your hand.

“I don’t know if that’s gonna be enough for me, Y/n,” he claimed dejectedly.

“Why don’t we just take a walk, then? To, like, the nearest park or something,” you offer, feeling his warm fingertips glide softly over your nails. “We could… We could do that.”

After thinking about it for a second, he nodded compliantly.

***

It was supposed to be dark outside, however the street lamps nearby and string lights across buildings liberally illuminated the area. It has been probably half an hour since you two sat down on a park bench, just speaking to each other with occasional banter. That was probably the strongest thing you had with him: communication. Just talking about random things that led to discovering more things about one another. You’d done that while you were tied up together after all. It was how you mainly connected in that moment.

That was another thing, however. You weren’t forced in proximity anymore, but you two still wanted more of each other. Even if you didn’t show it. Your rejection did quite a number on Billy’s belief that his feelings were reciprocated, but as you two proceeded to laugh and talk together, it was reinforced.

“Okay… Quentin Tarantino.” You raise an eyebrow, grinning as you watched your warm breath escape your lips in a hazy, white mist.

“Damn. That one foot fetish guy?” he laughed.

“Yeah, the—the foot fetish guy,” you chuckle softly.

“Okay, easy, Pulp Fiction,” he answered. Met with your silence, he looked at you and you shook your head, smiling. “No?”

“No, I wouldn’t make it that obvious—”

“Kill Bill.”

“N—”

“Volume one or two?” You grin as he continued to guess wrong in your game. “Seriously, none of those?”

“From Dusk Til Dawn?” He nearly pouted, it was adorable. “I give up.”

“Jackie Brown. C’mon, man,” you snicker.

He playfully rolled his eyes, scoffing, making you giggle.

This was something you two did back at Paradise Pumps as well, while tied up and exhausted. You made a little game where you basically had to think of a movie and the other had to guess it by only knowing the name of its director.

He smiles softly as he looks at you, but then it gradually dropped, as the recurring thought that he would never see you again invaded his mind once more.

“You good?” You ask reluctantly, seeing his facial expression change.

“Yeah, I just…”

“You don’t want to leave me?” You finish his sentence with a sigh, seeing him nod in response. “It’s not so bad, Billy. You could leave, settle down, start a new life and leave behind all that crime and… biker gang beef,” you offer a small laugh before you continue.

“You could find somebody who is worthier than me. Someone who you didn’t bond with through shared trauma and forced proximity. Someone who would leave everything behind just for you, unlike me.” You wish you could, honestly. What was really stopping you? Fear? Guilt?

Billy scoffs as he listened to your statements, deeming them as bullshit. “Y/n, respectfully, shut the fuck up.” Your eyebrows raise in bewilderment. “I don’t want someone else, okay? I want you... Just you.”

Your heart nearly stopped and you looked at him with sole adoration for him.

And you had no idea what came over you in this moment, because once you heard him say this, you immediately pressed your lips to his, while hesitantly bringing your hands up to his face to gently hold it.

You heard his breath hitch as he soon melts into the kiss, moving his lips with yours and holding onto your wrists. His lips were soft and warm, and he was being nothing but gentle with you. You felt the the tender skin of his burn against your fingertips, your delicate and careful touch soothing him.

You weren’t sure what kind of confidence boost let you do something so impulsive as kissing someone. But the entire night, Billy had been relentlessly winning over your heart, expressing his immense admiration for you. You fell for him. And you had to do something about that.

“Fuck, you know, that…” he began hoarsely once your lips have separated, yet your faces were still very close to each other, switching back and forth from looking deeply into one’s eyes to their lips. “That was fucking evil. That just made it even harder for me to leave you,” he stressed as you two let out small, quiet chuckles.

He convinced you enough, you thought. What did you really have to lose…?

Or, rather, what would you gain?

“You don’t have to,” your voice was slightly raspy as you spoke with a smirk.

And what you would say next had marked your decision. “I’m coming with you, cowboy.”

He parted his lips in shock, so before he could say anything, you just kissed him again, deeply and affectionately, as you couldn’t help but smile in the kiss. You felt him pull you closer by the waist in a fairly strong grip, as if you were to disappear if he let you go. It was a sweet and affectionate kiss, the two of you expressing your admiration and fondness for each other. It was supposed to be cold, hell, it was December in New York. But you couldn’t help but feel pure warmth each second your kiss remained.

*** Two Weeks Later ***

“Open it,” you giggle softly.

“Seriously, when did you get the time to wrap a whole ass gift when we’ve been, like, on the road together this whole time?” Billy says with a smile as he examines the thin, neatly wrapped box in his hands.

“I found a service. While you were preoccupied. Now shut up. Happy Holidays. Open the damn thing.”

It’s been about two weeks since you agreed with leaving with him. After resigning from your job, you basically packed your bags and savings and he picked you up. You two didn’t face any problems so far as you traveled east. You only had an increased admiration for each other, as well as mutual understandings.

Now, you were in an empty parking lot, keeping warm inside the car during the evening. You surprised him with a wrapped gift for the holidays.

You watched him rip off the wrapping paper, making you involuntarily laugh as you saw his expression of disbelief, represented by his playful scoff and the rolling of his eyes.

‘Never Get Angry Again: The Foolproof Way to Stay Calm and in Control in Any Conversation or Situation’ by David J. Lieberman, PhD

He raised his eyebrows as he read over the cover of the anger management book and presented it to you. “Seriously?”

You snicker impishly as you see an amused smile creep at the corner of his lips. “Told you I would, didn’t I?”

“You are terrible,” Billy joked endearingly with a low chuckle.

“I know,” you retort cunningly, reaching over the center console of the car to give him a soft peck on the lips.

“But you have to admit, Y/n, I have been working on myself ever since,” he points out, making you scoff.

“Yeah, but you totally lashed out on that one guy when we were at that convenience store in Pittsburgh,” you insist.

“Okay, well, in my defense, I really didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he shrugged with a knowing grin.

“Damn, should I have gotten you a book on jealousy as well?” you sneer.

“Hey, watch it,” he warned playfully.

“You know what, yeah, you’re right. I digress,” you concur nonchalantly. “If it weren’t for him getting an intense reaction out of you, then you wouldn’t have taken me straight to the bathroom and—”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” he chuckled softly as you laughed at your own delivery. “Just…” He reached in the back, grabbing a brown box that was sealed with clear tape. “Open your gift. Sorry I didn’t have the time to wrap it, like, I still have no idea how you had the time to do it behind my back, but yeah.”

He handed you his keys so you could rip the tape, then you opened the box, being met with styrofoam packaging. You removed the top layer, and then let out a small gasp as you saw the object, taking it in your hands.

It was a small Albany, New York snow globe. You were beaming as you shook it, watching the “snow” fall down on the capitol building.

“I thought you’d be homesick, so I snatched it right before we left,” he explained, smiling as he sees your reaction.

“Oh my god, Billy, it’s perfect,” you say in awe, then reach over the center console again to hug him tightly, feeling his arms wrap around you. “Thank you so much,” you say, kissing him deeply on his lips.

“‘F course, Y/n,” he mumbled sweetly, affectionately returning your kisses.

“You’re perfect,” you nearly whispered as you set the snow globe back in the box so your hands were free to hold his face. He always loved when you would do that. It brought a sort of comfort to him, making him feel safe and secure. He leaned into your touch as you kissed the right side of his face—his forehead and cheek—which were the areas that had been mildly burnt.

“Even when I robbed a gas station?” He asked under his breath, raising an eyebrow.

“Seriously?”

He always had a problem with being defined and associated with criminality, so you found it quite ironic for him to point it out.

“I’m fucking with you.”

You shove him playfully, which only resulted in him bringing you into an intense, deep kiss. “You are so perfect too, you know that?” He mutters softly. “I’m so fucking glad you came with me.” He artfully grabbed your hand and looked at you intimately as he pressed a gentle kiss to your wrist—the one that was zip tied to his. The one where the bruise on it had now been fully healed and gone.

“Me too,” you murmur ardently.

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highhhfiveee · 6 months

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safety net [p2] (pornstar!mike schmidt x reader)

part one: 💸 | part three: 📹

are we excited???? prepare your hearts cause the feels kinda took over

tags: fluff, lots of internal pining, porn mentions but nothing graphic. mike and reader are both genuine people and that draws them to each other. should be error free bc i actually proofread this one but if there are any, my sincerest apologies

“you have to be, like, evading taxes or something.”

mike chuckles behind you as he closes the door to his apartment--sorry, penthouse.

you're stood with your jaw unhinged, eyes scanning over the wide, sweeping space of his open concept living room and all of the furniture that decorates it, expensive-looking but cozy in a way that you wish you could replicate in your own place. you stalk over to tall windows that line the farthest wall, creating a corner that allows for you to see the bustling city below; all of the flashing lights, people drunkenly stumbling around street signs, and cars zipping and weaving through traffic.

you'd never seen anything like this, just a girl used to the urban suburbs on the south side of town, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment when you feel mike's presence behind you. you don't turn to him, dropping your shoes and purse to the ground and keeping your eyes trained on a street corner below.

"the view's what sold me on the place. i'm able to watch the sunrise on that side," he points to the windows on the other side of the kitchen, offering a view of the green space nestled in between skyscrapers. "and the sunset on this one."

"must be nice," you reply, backing away from the glass and observing the rest of the space. it was the size of, like, three of your apartments combined, organized and free of mess. "i only have a view of a corner store, and a really really busy bus stop. it's super annoying."

"where do you live?"

you give him the name of the neighborhood you'd known your whole life. you didn't recognize any of the area's flaws when you were a child. it was never a red flag to you that the street off of the one you grew up on had two storefronts of the same fast food chain on either end, or that the closest supermarket was twenty minutes away. you hadn't even batted an eye when some of your school “friends” would tell you about visiting gourmet cupcake restaurants and vintage consignments stores. you just went along with it, saying, "that's so cool. the fanciest place by my house is the $7.99 buffet." they all laughed at you.

it wasn't until you were older, freshly graduated from high school and looking to be on your own that you realized the disparity across the region. only people with certain attributes got the nice things, and you'd been conditioned to be grateful to have a daycare in a plaza with a smoke shop and tax preparation office.

"it's just too expensive for me to move anywhere else. i can barely make rent now, with the way they keep raising it every year. kept the tag on this dress just so i could take it back." you look down at yourself and mike can see the longing in your eye, the twinkle in them that wishes you could hang it up in your closet tomorrow.

after tonight, you kind of wish you hadn't bought it at all. you thought that simon would’ve found it insatiable, wining and dining you before taking you back to his place for a night cap, but all you think about now is the embarrassment of walking back into the luxury department store, handing them your receipt for the item you wore once and couldn’t keep.

it fills you with distaste and you find yourself desperate to peel the item off your skin. “is it okay if i shower?”

mike nods furiously, apologizing for not offering. he’d just been staring at you while you talked, admiring you. he was used to people with perfect appearances around him, done up by professionals that costed $200 an hour, but you were different, uncaring about your unruly curls and smeared eyeliner. you were unbothered and carefree, and that fascinated him.

he leads you down a long hall, coming to a stop once it forks into three different directions: left, right, and slightly diagonal right. the walls are lined with paintings and photos of mike and people that share his features, and at the end of the diagonal path is a giant trophy case, filled to the brim with plaques and trophies of various sizes, shapes, and finishes.

“jesus,” you murmur, abandoning your escort. mike’s walked ahead of you, but he makes his way back when he notices you’re not behind him.

“everything okay?”

you point to his trophy case, letting out an incredulous laugh. “are all of those for you?”

mike nods, and you laugh again, shaking your head in disbelief. “okay, so you’re obviously some sports star because no way someone living like this wouldn’t be.”

mike goes rigid next to you. he never knew how to bring up his career to new people he met, sometimes ping-ponging between “i work for a world-renown production company” and “i’m an entrepreneur”. he had no problem lying to other people, his guard all the way up from years of rejection and disgust at the mention of “sex worker” and “pornstar”, but something felt wrong about lying to you. he swallows hard, racking his mind for a semi truth.

“not sports, but definitely still physical.” you scrunch your nose at this, blinking at him in confusion, but you stop when he grabs your hand and nudges his head in the direction of the bathroom. “didn’t you want to shower?”

you nod, allowing him to pull you down the hall but not without a second glance at the case. what other physical career presented you with that many awards?

the bathroom is a star in it's own right, modern in a way that you fawn over when you're watching hgtv. the gigantic, complicated looking shower invites you from the corner, nestled in between the gadget-rigged toilet and garden bathtub.

all of the decor in here was clean, pale blue, a nice offset to all of the white tile and gold-accented appliances.

you're half-listening, your conscience replaced with static as mike explains where everything is. "so...towels are over here..."

his shower had a rainforest head and a small, handheld one clipped into a holder, with a screen embedded into the wall. there was a bench and railing to hold onto, a speaker on the back tile....your eyes cut to the toilet, and the smaller one next to it. a bidet??????

"...and, the bidet remote's right next to the soap. i'll lay some clothes out for you on the hall table, but let me know if you need anything, okay?" you react a little too late, raising your hand and squeaking, "wait" right as mike's backed out of the room.

"fuck."

you try to look around for things, eventually finding the towels in a closet concealed as a part of the wall and, as a bonus, a knob to turn on the heated floor?????

you strip down, completely bare under the dress, and fold it up, retail employee coded, delicately placing it by the sink with the tag on top. it was exactly how you'd return it, with a shitty excuse and plastic smile. you do the same with mike's jacket.

you throw your hair up before wrapping yourself in the towel, delicately cloaked in what had to be egyptian cotton, and pace on over to the shower. you tap the daunting screen, and it lights up with a flourish, displaying the date, time, weather, and a host of different icons.

you don't know why it's so hard for you to turn the shower on, scrolling and bumbling through a collection of options that weren't simply turn on. why did you need to use a screen anyway? why reinvent the simple wheel that was a faucet lever?

you decide you need mike's help after a bit, though self-conscious about having to ask after he probably told you earlier. you splash cool water on your face before leaving the room, attempting to wring the anxiety out of your body.

you're at the fork in the hallway again, the view of you obscured from the living room by a wall, and you turn your attention to mike's trophy case again. you're too far to see any of the engravings on anything and you're so curious to find out what they say.

you feel your muscles attempt to pull you down the lonely hall, but you halt, reminding yourself that mike was a kind person who'd invited you into his home, and you were supposed to be showering, not snooping. still, even with the moment of morality, untrustworthy interest prodded at your brain.

mike's exiting his room with a handful of clothes for you when he catches you, arms wound around yourself to keep your towel up. you haven't seen him yet, your gaze fixed on something down the hall. he gulps softly, unaware that he would see you like this so early in your connection. your long neck cranes forward to see better, and he prematurely wonders if you're sensitive there, mind swirling with musings of bites and marks.

"something wrong?" you jolt, blinking and stammering and damn near jestering as you attempt to defend yourself. mike doesn't look at you with malice or cynicism, simply stepping closer as your eyes flitter around. "i, uh...i need help with the shower. i don't know how to turn it on."

mike huffs, squinting his eyes at you jovially. "that the only thing?" fuck.

you drop your shoulders with a deep sigh, throwing a pointed finger down the hall. "i also wanna know why you have all those awards." there's a small, almost undetectable change in mike's face, his eye twitching. you watch him shrug it off, placing a hand on your shoulder to lead you back to the bathroom. "i'll explain after you shower."

you're puzzled as to why he's so cagey about it, but you don't question it, accepting his statement and finally listening to him as he explains what to do

you're alone again after he sets the clothes down and leaves. he took your dress, easing you with "just going to hang it up. no worries" and a sheepish smile, and you're eager, ready to hear about what he does and how he's able to afford all this, including this shower that provides you with the best shower you think you've ever taken.

you're able to get the water to the perfect temp, scalding, with the perfect amount of pressure to sting your skin and make you feel clean. you wash away all of your worries; thoughts of keeping a roof over your head, being okay, and finding a genuine connection extinguished with the hum of soft jazz and lather of ylang ylang scented soap.

you lotion yourself with one of the various creams on mike's counter, soothed by the powder smell, and slip into the clothes you're provided--a pair of soft, heart-covered boxers and a university t-shirt, faded into burgundy from countless washes.

mike's sitting on the couch, scrolling aimlessly on his phone when the the demure pitter patter of your feet sounds against the floors, and he swears he almost dies when he sees you.

maybe it hadn't been totally random when he chose the clothes for you, deciding to give you two of his favorite items so he could see how they looked on you. the shirt, very lived in and from his alma mater, skirted your thighs and covered up his boxers, draping over your lithe body in a way that made his mouth go dry.

"okay," you call, dropping beside him on the couch. the wispy hairs around your hairline frame your clean face, guiding his attention to the smattering of dark moles around your eyes and temples. "tell me. what are all of those awards for?"

"do you want some water or something?" he interrupts, and while you accept, you furrow your eyebrows at him. he gets up with the swiftness of a nascar pit crew, and you hold your gaze on him, pivoting your body as he moves.

"mike, c'mon, what gives? you can trust me."

his back is towards you, filling a glass with water from the filtered water faucet. he hunches at your baffled tone, your voice all soft and downcast.

he wants to scream because it's so easy to just come out and tell you what he does. you didn't say anything at the restaurant, but maybe you'd put two and two together when he finally told you truth, remembering a thumbnail from the porn site of your choosing. he wasn't ashamed---nowhere near that. he'd been in the industry almost a decade, moving past the internalized and societally-imposed scrutiny he felt for his career. it was other people that were ashamed, other people that turned their nose up at him because of what they assumed he was; sleazy, devious, a player. he'd had so many connections blow over because of it, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to handle that happening with you.

you just stare at his back, watching it rise and fall with every laboured breath he takes. what was so bad about what he did that he couldn’t just tell you? he was obviously good at whatever it was, and you wondered if it was a front for something. maybe he disarmed you with his nice guy act, and he lured you here to kill you an—-

the clink of glass on glass brings you back to reality. mike is beside you again, staring blankly ahead while he wrings his hands.

“i’m a pornstar,” he utters plainly. he squeezes his eyes shut, expecting you to make a noise of disgust or get up and leave, but you don’t.

he opens one eye, and then both. you’re staring at him with no concrete expression, lips pursed. he closes his eyes again, counting in his head before opening them once more.

you’re still there, and it almost makes him cry.

“that checks out,” you muse. you’re fairly non reactive, but not because his admission freaks you out. you’re thinking back to the awards, the sheer amount of them in that case, and how good he really must be at what he does. “why didn’t you want to tell me?”

he runs a hand through his hair, melting into his couch with boyish reserve. his eyes are a mixed bag, bouncing between relief and despair. “people run every time i tell them. lots of them act like i just told them i killed their childhood pet and it's just so...disheartening, y'know?

"i just don't get it because it's just like any other job. you work, fucking hard, because you want to perform at your best, just like anyone else. the stigma around it never goes away, no matter how hard you try to convince people. they think you get around outside of it, having sex every second of every day, or that you're gonna mess around with your coworkers and give them something. it's like the trust level is in hell before you're even able to prove yourself." you scoot closer to mike without a word and place your hands over his. his rings are cold against your palm.

it's a gentle gesture. the airy smile you give pacifies him and he swears he's never felt anything like what he feels now.

"i'm not here to judge you, mike. i never will. sex work is a completely valid career, just like anything else. i'm sorry about all those shitty people who made assumptions about you."

"no need to apologize," he whispers, adjusting his hands so that they cradle yours now. you tilt your head down bashfully, lashes fluttering. "all those times led me here."

you two chat for a long while. mike tells you all about the production company he works for, how he got into the business, what his work schedule's like, the community of other stars that he works with, his stage name. you can tell he's passionate about it, lost in his rambles and talking with his hands. certain words segue your convo into other topics, like books and food and pop culture. you two have a lot more than coffee in common.

"i was surprised you didn't recognize me, honestly. not in a douchey way, but just because everyone does. it's usually the first thing they come up to me with." you could only imagine, being approached with "i've come to all of your work" in the condiment aisle at the grocery store.

"i don't watch professional porn really. too staged for me."

"i get that. i think you'd like our content. we really found a good balance between professional quality and ethical, genuine, safe fun."

you try to stay nonchalant, not wanting to betray the fact that you're itching to watch something of his work. "that's really nice. i bet you have quite the catalog."

"almost ten years worth so, yeah, i'd say," he chuckles, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth. "enough about me though. what do you do for work?"

"nothing as exciting and well-paying as porn. i type letters and numbers into a computer in a cubicle. it barely pays the bills, but i've worked in too many customer service jobs to ever go back." mike agrees. you're about to say something else when you're interrupted by a yawn, unhinging your jaw like an animal. you quickly cover your mouth, muttering, "jeez. sorry." you didn't realize it, but you were tired, exhausted from the night you had.

"it's okay, it is pretty late." he checks the time on his phone and turns it to you. 2:23 am. had you two really been talking on this couch for 3 hours? "i can show you to the guest room if you're tired. i have a shoot tomorrow anyway so i should get to bed too."

"sure," you whisper, grabbing his hand when he extends it to you. he pulls you to your feet like you weigh nothing at all, and you tail behind him like a lovesick puppy.

you're feeling that tingly ball of warmth in your stomach, the one you've felt with every person you thought you'd marry. you usually indulge in it, but with mike, it scares you. why do you feel like this after one night with a man you barely even know?

it's rash and inappropriate, you decide, and you're still convincing yourself as you slide under the black satin sheets and duvet on mike's king sized guest bed. you recline on the satin-covered pillows, sinking into the memory foam. it's a nice departure from your noisy childhood mattress back at home.

"do you have work tomorrow?" you shake your head, and mike claps his hands together with a cheer.

"yay. i'll be leaving around 8 or so, but feel free to sleep in and hang around as long as you want. the remote for the blinds is right there, i'll put a toothbrush out for you, and there's all kinds of food in the kitchen. help yourself. just let me know when you're leaving so i can lock the door."

your eyes squint. "you're gonna lock the door after i leave?"

mike nods, smiling excitedly and geekily diving into his rationale. "mhm, i have a smart lock. i can do it from my phone."

you're so tired that the words just foolishly tumble out of your mouth. "you must have great dick."

mike lets out a laugh that's a blend of flattered, nervous, and amused and you're both red-cheeked and flustered. "i am so fucking sorry, i, uh..y--" you stammer over all of your words, finally able to wrench out, "a smart lock just sounds expensive."

mike stares you down with fascination, backing towards the door. "watch the videos and find out for yourself, yeah?" he winks at you, and you gulp so loudly you're sure he hears. "goodnight, y/n. sleep well.”

"you too,” you croak.

you're out like a light once he leaves, but not before telling yourself to put up a new sticky note at home: “watch mike's porn."

you awake what feels like days later, refreshed and made anew. you click on the remote for the curtains, and they rise slowly, flooding the room with rich early afternoon sun. the clock on the nightstand reads 12:38 pm.

you hop to your feet and make your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face before stalking to the living room. it's filled with light, and you think about how you'd probably never be depressed living in a place like this.

a box, red and moderately sized, sits upon the kitchen counter. you think you should ignore it, but as you get closer, you see a paper with your name scrawled across it. you like your name in mike's voice and handwriting.

you pull up the lid and inside is your dress from last night with the tag missing, two fat wads of hundred dollar bills, and another note that reads, “you deserve to feel beautiful and pay your rent <3 call this number when you're ready to go home. -m”.

in this moment, you're 100% positive that you're falling in love.

wow wow wow wow. they are so fucking CUTE! i love themmmmmmm <3 hopefully this tides y'all over for a bit because i need to outline the rest of their story, and i wanna work on some other stories for a little bit 💜 more parts are definitely coming, have no fear!

i'd also like to say that while i use y/n in my stories, reader is typically a character that i'm inventing. using your own name and likeness while you read is totally fine, of course! i just use y/n as a placeholder name for my reader character bc i don't feel like coming up with character names all the time <3 sorry if that doesn't make sense 💔

i hope you all enjoyed! happy reading my seedlings 🌱💜

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtsss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fluff #fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf fic #faire is writing stuff #faire's (pornstar) mike schmidt <3 #they are so fucking cute #like omg #i get the feels from them and they're my characters #rooting for them fr #josh hutcherson

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