- Anything taking place in high school (Minors DNI)
- Anything involving rape, homophobia, misogyny, transphobia, racism, fatphobia, or anything remotely bigoted. This is a no tolerance zone.
Other than that, anything goes tbh. Please feel free to leave requests in my inbox. I write just about anything. If I’m uncomfortable writing something, then I won’t.
All of my x reader stories will either be gender neutral or x male reader. As a transgender male myself, it’s hard to find representation within the writing community, so I pride myself in writing stories with inclusive language to ensure readers of all walks of like can enjoy my work. I can write x female reader stuff, but tend to lean toward gn or male reader content.
How far is Mike willing to go to get his vest back in time for work?
✧ Jealous Mike Schmidt (gn! r)
jealous Mike Schmidt headcanons
✧ What’s in the Bag? (nsfw ; ftm! r)
ftm! mike Schmidt x ftm! reader. Mike accidentally brings the wrong bag to a sleepover…what do you do when you find out? *nsfw*
✧ We Fight, We Make Up (gn! r)
Months into dating your boyfriend, Mike, you trigger one of your first fights. How well do you two handle it?
✧ Try it Out (nsfw; ftm! r)
After searching porn one night, you stumble across breeding and develop a new kink. How will you let your boyfriend know that you want to try it out? *nsfw*
✧ Sweetheart (gn! r)
Mike comforts the reader after a bad day.
✧ Necklace (gn! r)
Valentine’s Day necklace with Mike.
✧ Lazy Mornings (gn! r)
Lazy Morning headcanons with Mike.
✧ Behave (ftm! r)
All the best puppy boys (Mike) can only behave if they’re trained properly. *nsfw*
✧ You’re Mine (gn! r)
Jealous Mike Schmidt headcanons turned into a fic. *nsfw*
✧ Anniversary Picnic (gn! r)
One year anniversary with Mike (headcanons)
✧ Subtle (gn! r)
Mike isn’t so subtle about his feelings for you.
✧ Baby (gn!afab!r)
You and Mike have been together for the past 8 years, engaged for one year, Abby now officially being 18 and going off to college, leaving you to be empty nesters. Feeling lonely and missing Abby, Mike brings up a discussion you once had and proposes an idea: maybe it’s time to try for a baby. *nsfw*
✧ Invested (gn!r) | pt1 | pt.2
You struggle with BPD and maintaining stable relationships. Your biggest frustration is your obsessive nature. You vow to take a break from relationships, but then you meet Mike. You swear things will be different this time around, but will that really end up being true, or will things end in flames like they always do? *nsfw*
✧ Binders (nb! or ftm! r)
You and Mike have finally taken a big step in your relationship: you two move in together. When moving into his house, a few of your personal boxes got stolen in the moving truck: so you were without a very important clothing article…your binders. Destroyed and dysphoric, Mike is determined to help you feel better. He saves up his money to buy you a new binder.
✧ Defensive (gn! r)
Mike and Abby had moved in next door to you a week before you met them. After becoming friends with Mike over the course of a few months, he calls you up one night needing help. With him and Abby in danger, how will you handle your own encounter with animatronics at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria?
✧ The Night Shift (gn! r)
You’re the new hire at Freddy Fazbear’s pizza, starting just about a week after Mike did. However, he was not fond of you from the get-go and made it blatantly obvious. But, when the animatronics start to wander at night, your lives are at stake. Will he put his feelings aside to save you, or will his stubbornness put you in jeopardy?
✧ How Will This Work? (gn! r) | pt. 1 |
Everyone knows of the trope where Abby loves you, but what happens when Abby meets you in a less ideal situation and hates you right off the bat?
✧ Pervy Best Friend (ftm! r)
Modern Day College AU! You and Mike are roommates in college, living together to make ends meet. Mike knows about your OnlyFans profile since you openly talk to him about it. He works at a grocery store. But little do you know he uses some of his paycheck to stay subscribed to your page so he can get off to your content...all the time. What will you do when you come home and find him getting off to your pictures? *nsfw*
✧ Couldn’t Be Happier (gn! r)
You and Mike are forced to work a tense night shift together at Freddy’s despite your deep mutual distrust. When the power suddenly goes out, you’re trapped in the security office with danger looming outside, forcing you to rely on one another to survive. What begins as hostility slowly shifts into something more complicated, setting the stage for a fragile truce and emotions neither of you are ready to admit.
✧ Notice (gn! r)
Working the night shift at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza was never supposed to mean anything—until it did. Armed with cryptic post-it notes and a growing sense of dread, you survive each shift guided by the unseen watchfulness of your quiet coworker, Mike Schmidt. As the animatronics grow restless and the nights more dangerous, Mike’s careful distance gives way to something far more personal: protection, sacrifice, and a bond forged in flickering lights and whispered confessions. When one long night forces the truth into the open, you discover that survival isn’t just about making it to 6 AM—it’s about choosing who you stay for when the sun finally rises.
Coming Soon….
✧ Meet Again (ftm! r)
After years of not seeing your ex boyfriend, Mike, after a nasty breakup, you bump into him in a bar. Needless to say, he takes out years of pent up aggression during a wild one night stand. *nsfw*
✧ I'll Be There (gn! r)
supernatural/cursed au
For Mike Schmidt, immortality is not a gift—it’s a curse carved into every lifetime he’s forced to endure. He doesn’t have fangs, magic, or superhuman abilities; he simply cannot die. Centuries pass, eras change, the world resets around him without warning… but one thing never changes. He always meets you. In every life, no matter the year, country, or version of himself he wakes up as, he finds you again. And in every life, the pattern repeats: you meet as strangers, you grow close, too close, and just when your bond deepens into something undeniable, tragedy steals you away. You die—sometimes suddenly, sometimes slowly, but always before him. Always in his arms. Always with him powerless to stop it. Then the world goes dark. Time fractures. A new life begins. And Mike carries the memory of you into the next existence, while you return with no memory of him at all. It’s a relentless cycle he can’t escape. A cruel joke of the universe. A soulmate bond corrupted into a curse—one that ensures he must fall for you over and over, only to lose you the moment fate decides he’s gotten too close. And now, in this lifetime, it’s happening again. Mike can feel it: the familiarity, the pull, the fear. You’ve crossed paths, and the curse has already begun its slow tightening around the both of you. This time, though… he’s not sure he can let the universe win.
✧ You (gn! r)
hospital au
Mike Schmidt isn’t the type to talk to people—he never has been. Quiet, withdrawn, and constantly running on the edge of exhaustion, he keeps his distance from everyone. Everyone except you. You work the night shift at a nearly empty hospital, used to treating the occasional emergency without much conversation. But one night, Mike stumbles in—bloody, shaken, and refusing to explain what happened. Every attempt the staff makes to question him is met with silence or a flinch, and he seems prepared to walk out rather than say a word. Until they assign you as his nurse. With you, something shifts. Mike watches you like he recognizes something familiar. He listens to you. And, slowly, he speaks—softly, reluctantly, but only to you. You’re the only one he trusts enough to let near him, the only one he’ll allow to patch him up despite injuries that don’t match any explanation he’s willing to give. As you try to treat him, you begin sensing that whatever hurt him isn’t something normal, or safe, or human. And Mike seems terrified that the truth—whatever it is—will put you in danger simply by being close to him. But even so, he keeps coming back. And you’re the only person he’ll talk to. Little by little, you realize that you’re not just healing him—you’re unraveling the secrets of his nights, the trauma he carries, and the reasons he keeps choosing you, even when he barely chooses anyone at all.
✧ Deserve (gn! r)
soulmate au
In a world where soulmates share identical scars, you’ve always wondered what yours would look like—and who it would connect you to. One night, the mark finally appears: a sharp, jagged line carved across your forearm, as if fate had dragged its nail through your skin. A few days later, you meet Mike Schmidt. Quiet, guarded, and strangely tense, Mike seems nervous around everyone… but when he catches sight of your scar, he freezes. His eyes widen. His hand instinctively goes to his own forearm—where the same jagged scar hides beneath his sleeve. Instead of being relieved or overjoyed, he steps back as if burned. He mutters, “You don’t want me,” already turning away, already trying to sever whatever invisible thread ties you together. But you refuse to let it snap. You catch his wrist gently, grounding him in place. For the first time, Mike forces himself to meet your eyes, the fear in his expression stark and raw. This connection terrifies him—because he feels unworthy of it, unworthy of you. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, like a confession. “Let me decide that,” you whisper back. And in that fragile moment, the bond between you begins—not as destiny demands, but as you choose.
summary: Working the night shift at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza was never supposed to mean anything—until it did. Armed with cryptic post-it notes and a growing sense of dread, you survive each shift guided by the unseen watchfulness of your quiet coworker, Mike Schmidt. As the animatronics grow restless and the nights more dangerous, Mike’s careful distance gives way to something far more personal: protection, sacrifice, and a bond forged in flickering lights and whispered confessions. When one long night forces the truth into the open, you discover that survival isn’t just about making it to 6 AM—it’s about choosing who you stay for when the sun finally rises.
pairing: mike schmidt x gn! reader
word count: 4,647
warnings: thriller/horror elements
requested: nope! leave some requests tho!
Why you kept coming back here was beyond you. The pay wasn’t good, the building was a disaster, danger peeks around every corner, and something always seemed to shift after midnight, ironically the time you started your shift there.
Maybe it was the consistency you liked: the predictable factor of working the night shift as a security guard at an abandoned entertainment pizzeria. However, predictable was a generous word, considering all the mishappenings that occurred on the clock. Or maybe it was him, Mike Schmidt, your coworker and fellow security guard, that kept you there, though you’d never fully admit it.
You and Mike weren’t strangers, but you weren’t exactly friends, either. You didn’t know what to make of the dynamic.
You were hired at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza a few weeks after Mike started, ever since the break-in incidents gained frequency. That fact you were unaware of upon hire. You were instead left alone in the office with the monitors, oftentimes finding post-it notes attached to the screens, heeding warnings and giving advice where you might need it. Short, rather blunt instruction in his messy scrawled handwriting.
Don’t touch the red joystick.
If the lights start to flicker, stay where you are.
Don’t move if you hear them coming.
Don’t waste too much power. The generator doesn’t work.
Who “they” were and the business of the lights were unknown to you, eeriness settling in.
But, you took caution and advice and acted accordingly, making it out of every shift unscathed, despite your rampant heartrate.
You didn’t see Mike, at least not at first. You thought he was another tired employee, too drained to properly train you and relied solely on the concept of your common sense to get you through the shifts. You considered him to be withdrawn, someone who was just there for the paycheck.
But, Mike looked at it differently.
Mike noticed everything.
Mike Schmidt was incredibly observant, let alone when it came to things related to Freddy’s. Ever since the encounter with Springtrap with his sister Abby, he vowed to continue to protect the pizzeria and the animatronics for the sake of his sister, even if it meant continued chaos and unexplainable phenomena.
Why he continued to do it, he would never fully understand, but made sense of it when it came to cherishing something his sister cared about. He knew deep down he couldn’t break her heart that way, even if it meant getting hurt every night.
Mike noticed everything.
He noticed how quickly you’d walk from the main entrance to the office for the night. He noticed how you wouldn’t come out. And from his own corner of the pizzeria, he watched the security office camera, watching you, noticing how well you responded to his notes and instructions, slight pride emanating from him.
Mike smirked to himself, certain he had figured out the game. All he had to do was keep you safe while making sure the pizzeria and Abby’s friends stayed intact.
The problem? The animatronics viewed you as a threat.
One night, they started moving a little too early in the night. That was when you finally met Mike. Fifteen minutes after your shift started, one of the camera screens reduced to static, causing your heart to race. As you go to investigate, the office door opens, a yelp emitting from your throat as you bring the swivel chair in front of you, a futile attempt for protection.
“Take a break.” Mike says, tone demanding. You raise your eyebrow, confused as to who he was, but when you see his security jacket with the name “MIKE” embroidered in white writing, you sigh in relief. He worked here. He wasn’t a stranger here to hurt you.
“What?” You ask, confused. “I just got her-”
“I know. Just…take a break.” He sighs, pointing to a chair and desk away from the monitors where you could sit. He stood between you and the monitors.
You caught on rather quickly, and nodded, moving away from the monitors and to the desk shortly across the small room. Mike sat in the monitor swivel chair, his body blocking your view of the cameras. He flicked through them, eyes scanning every screen for potential danger. But when the animatronics begin to settle down, he realizes something:
They won’t hurt you when you’re with him.
When you come back for work the next day, Mike is shocked.
But it meant more to him than you would ever know.
Mike starts the night shift cleaning the mess from a break in that occurred at the end of the day shift, the mess unable to be tended to with the chaos of the police and shenanigans from hooligans.
He didn’t start it without leaving you notes, though.
He made sure to prepare you for whatever may be thrown your way that night.
But when he hears the animatronics start to move shortly after you enter the building, his heart begins to race. What if the warnings and instructions aren’t enough and they get to you anyways?
Mike couldn’t stomach the thought, so he rushed to the security office where you were. You were unpacking some items from your bag, shivering due to the cold, back turned to the monitors, the animatronics rushing across the building, turning the camera feeds into static. Mike jumps on the control panel, fingers racing across the buttons and joysticks as he clicks through the camera feeds, curious as to who is moving and where they are in proximity to the office.
“Is everything okay?” You ask, teeth chattering as you approach Mike. But he holds up his hand without facing you. You stop in your tracks.
“Don’t. Stay where you are.” He says firmly. Your stomach twisted.
But you listened. You always did.
His breath hitches, jaw clenched so tight he thought it might break. Bonnie was in the east wing, Chica in the kitchen, Freddy approaching the door. They were moving too quickly. Too early. Mike jumps up and locks the door. You didn’t dare look at the monitors.
That was the strange thing about this – about Mike. You trusted him, although you weren’t sure why you did. Maybe it was the notes, and how they were careful, never condescending, always considerate. Maybe it was the way he’d stand between you and the monitors whenever things began to grow uneasy in the establishment. Maybe it was because you could tell he was trying to protect you.
Mike glanced over his shoulder to check if you were still there, and found himself relieved when you stood there unscathed.
“Sorry.” He mutters, turning in his chair to face you. “They’re restless tonight.”
“So it’s not just me?” You ask, wrapping your arms around you in an attempt to keep warm. Something about the building felt even more off tonight. Maybe it was the fact that you were unaware of the heat’s malfunction, the system being off and ready for repair come morning.
“This place feels colder, too.” You remark, noticing your breath was visible in the air.
Mike is fully turned to you now, a frown on his face as he considers your words.
“Heat’s out. Has been for hours.” He says.
Which explained the numbness in your fingers and toes, and the chattering of your teeth.
Without hesitating, Mike stands up, shrugging his heavy security jacket off his shoulders. The action was precise, as if it had been practiced or done before – as if he was used to sacrificing his own comfort for the sake of another’s.
“You’ll freeze.” You reject it.
“Just wear it.” He demands. And you don’t put up a fight. He liked that you listened. He appreciated you didn’t ask any questions or pressed the situation further. Instead, you nod and do as he says, putting on Mike’s security jacket.
He fights back a smile at the sight of it swallowing you, the cuffs of his sleeves going well past your wrists, the bottom of the jacket coming dangerously close to your knees, sinking halfway between your thighs and resting there.
You can’t help your own smile from the warmth that emitted from – not the jacket itself – but from the wearer.
Mike checks back on the monitors, noticing the stillness that came from the animatronics. Not from their surrender, but from their confusion. Now that you were wearing the jacket, they could only register you to be Mike, the entity they were familiar with from their encounter with his sister, a fact you were completely unaware of.
But this added an entirely new element of danger.
Without the familiarity of the security jacket, the animatronics couldn't register who Mike was, and posed him as a threat. However, they wouldn’t react just yet. They remain confused for just a little bit.
“What’s going on?” You whisper, curiosity getting the better of you.
“They’re…confused.” Mike breathes, trying to wrap his head around the why of it all.
“This…isn’t fair, you know.” You begin, finding the courage to speak a little more when you realize the immediate danger is being kept at bay, at least for now.
Mike whips around to you, eyebrow raised in utter confusion at your words. “What?”
“You’re always helping me out…and I feel like I never do anything for you.” You say with a frown, heart racing as you feel emboldened by the confrontation.
Mike looks away, shocked by your words, but appreciative of the conversation. He glanced back at the monitors, recognizing the animatronics stillness, and decided to proceed in talking with you.
“It’s nothing, really. Don’t worry about it.” Mike dismisses.
You frown, wanting to press the issue further, but you knew enough about Mike and how he talked: if he had any sort of demand in his voice, he meant it, for your own good. You knew by now he had no malicious intent towards you. That’s the reason why you trusted him so much. Well, one of them for that matter.
Upon seeing your frown, Mike realizes he might’ve made a mistake in dismissing you so quickly.
Before thinking of his next words, he lets them flow out of his mouth.
“You do help me, (Y/N). In more ways than one.”
He knew what the words meant to him, but wasn’t sure if you’d understand them. He didn’t want to expand on it, though. He felt as if he needed to remain guarded, especially when it came to you.
You raise your eyebrow at the words he chose to speak, curious as to what he meant.
“How?” You ask.
“You keep me grounded.” Mike says, the realization dawning upon him the moment the words fell from his lips.
“Oh.” You say, but with a small smile. He notices this. He turns back around to the monitors and bites back his own smile.
By the time the animatronics stir again, thirty minutes have gone by of pure stillness and silence. The silence between you and Mike was slightly uncomfortable, but mainly tame. You wanted to ask more questions, get to know him, and especially more about his knowledge of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, but you knew you should wait for a more appropriate time. Instead, you sit there with his jacket on, finding comfort and solace in the article of clothing, let alone with him in a swivel chair next to you. You sway back and forth in your own swivel chair, turning side to side as you play with your fingers and nails, unsure of what to say or do next.
Mike is the one to break the silence.
“They’re moving again.” He says.
The clock reads 2:27 AM.
“It’s too early for them all to be active.” You say. Mike smiles at the comment. You paid attention to the notes.
He nods in agreement, switching back and forth between camera feeds to see where the animatronics are.
“I fucked up.” Mike eventually says, rubbing his head in his hands in an action you viewed to be unfamiliar.
“How?” You ask, scooting closer to him in the chair.
“They…the jacket. They recognize me in it. They’re familiar with me. We have history. But now that I’m not in it…” He begins, and you finish for him.
“You’re not safe.”
He nods.
“But..I am?” You confirm. He nods again. You stand up and begin to take off the jacket, but Mike stops you, his hands flying to grip your shoulders – not harmfully or harshly – but as if to say “keep it on.”
He just looks at you pleadingly, the words unable to leave his mouth. But the action was enough. You look at him, his gaze boring emotions you couldn’t quite comprehend, or at least come to terms with. You adjust the jacket so you’re wearing it again. He notices the animatronics slow down again, their confusion now due to how close you two were.
He notices their confusion and takes advantage of it.
“They’re confused again, slowing down again. We have to start barricading the door until sunrise. It’s our only way.” Mike says. You don’t waste a second, looking around the room for items that could be pressed against the door. He noticed this. And he was grateful. Minutes later, the door is successfully barricaded, and Mike rushes back to the monitors to find out where they were.
Mike barely has time to breathe before the lights start to flicker, capturing where each animatronics was through the screens.
Mike points to the spot next to him, and back to you. “Sit. Right here.” He demands.
You pull the chair close – too close, and sit – your knees almost touching. He liked how quickly you listened. All he wanted to do was keep you safe.
The barricade creaked softly under its own weight, the sounds of mechanical whirring emanating from the confines of the hallway. They were getting close. But the barricade would hold.
“You shouldn’t have given me the jacket.” You begin.
“Don’t start.” Mike defends, turning to face you, your knees now touching.
“I’m serious.” You start. “You said it yourself…you’re not safe. Why are you doing this?” You ask, desperate to get some kind of an answer from him. He stiffens at your words, looking to the floor, then back to you before speaking.
“I know…that’s the problem.” Mike sighs, frowning. You raise your eyebrow.
“Why are you doing this?” You repeat in a demanding tone. Mike almost flinches at your voice.
“Because I couldn’t stand watching you freeze,” Mike offers, referring entirely to the jacket. Avoiding your question.
“That’s not what I meant.” You say. And he knows it.
“I can’t stand them looking at you like they’re…deciding something.” He snaps. Your heart skips a beat. You didn’t know he was watching that closely.
“I can handle myself.” You say. The statement is weak even to your own ears.
Mike laughs a humorless laugh under his breath. “You shouldn’t have to.” He says, resting his hand on your knee absentmindedly. You lean forward to him and say: “Neither should you.”
That did it. Mike finds himself leaning forward, the room going quiet sans the sound of your breathing. It was almost too quiet, almost eerie. No sounds of mechanisms from the hallways. No flicker of the lights. No impending doom.
Neither of you pull away.
His gaze holds onto yours, fingers gripping your knee as if letting go would cause you to disappear. You continue to lean in. And so does he.
And then there’s a loud bang against the door.
“No.” Mike says, shaking his head and jumping back in surprise at the noise. You felt hurt, rejected by the comment. You move your chair back, pulling away as if you have been burned.
Mike noticed this. He notices everything. He knew he messed up. But he knew it was too dangerous.
“After tonight’s shift…we’ll talk, okay?” He offers quickly, eyes pleading with desperation. But you don’t question him. You listen and nod.
He really appreciated that.
He flicks through the monitors, scanning the screens for the potential danger. Bonnie was outside the security office door, banging their mechanical fist against the barricaded door.
“It’ll hold.” Mike says, half confident.
You nod, trusting his words. He knew you would. That’s why he said them.
It was now 3 AM. There were three hours left to survive the night.
“Mike…” You begin. “It’s 3 AM.”
He glances at the clock. “I know.”
“Will we be okay?” You ask, choking back a sob you didn’t realize you were holding in. He turns to you and looks at you, really looks at you, and feels a pang of guilt and an overbearing sense of sympathy. Against his better judgement, he reaches for your hand. He partially smiles when you take it.
“We will be. And when we’re done, we’ll talk. Right?” He says, trying his best to comfort you. Despite your trembling form, you nod and squeeze his hand. He squeezes back.
The hours pass slower than they ever have. Every sound makes your shoulders tense, metal scraping in the hallways, the flickering of the lights. Mike continues to hold your hand through the hours, occasionally letting go to use both of his hands to maneuver the control panels. But after every maneuver, his hand made his way back to yours in a reassuring embrace. He noticed how much your trembling would lessen every time his hand made its way back to yours. He didn’t want to strip you of that comfort.
The animatronics linger, but they don’t breach. They pace the hallways, they hesitate, but they don’t attack. The closeness of you and Mike was confusing to them, the jacket was still buying them time.
By 5:52 AM, the banging stops entirely.
6:00 AM approaches, the alarm blaring to indicate the end of the night.
“It’s over.” Mike comments.
“For tonight.” You finish. He lets out another humorless laugh.
You stand up, your shoulders slumping as the adrenaline of the night starts to leave your body. You don’t realize you’re swaying until Mike’s hands find their way to your shoulders, steadying you.
“Easy there.” He remarks with a smile.
“We made it through another shift.” You smile up at him.
“We did.” He nods.
His hand runs down your arm and finds its way back into yours as he leads you to the barricaded door, where you two begin to undo the barricade. Once cleaned up, you begin to leave the premises. The door of the exit opens, the cold morning air entering your lungs, the pink and purple sunrise a beautiful stark contrast to the dark dangerous night that occurred inside. In the morning light, you turn to Mike, seeing him in a different way than previously. Inside the establishment was a stoic, hardened individual who cared for you, but outside was a tender broken man who yearned to be seen.
You noticed this.
He didn’t.
You begin to shrug off the jacket, but Mike holds up his free hand to stop you.
“You can keep it, for now.” He states, biting back a smile. You look at him with slight confusion.
“Why?” You question.
“To, you know…warm up?” He says it like a question. You laugh lightly.
You meet his gaze again, and notice there’s hardly any reserve, any fear or determination to hold back. There stood a man ready to let his guard down, to be vulnerable, no matter the consequences. His honesty stood there, ready to be exposed in the pale morning light.
“Mike?” You begin quietly. He nods, knowing.
“I know.” He says. “I meant what I said about talking. Do you…want to come to my place? We can start talking on the ride there.” He says. Your heart races at the proposition. You find yourself nodding. Wordlessly, he leads you to his car hand in hand, opening the door for you upon getting there.
“There’s something important you need to know before coming over.” Mike begins, starting the car up.
“What’s that?” You ask.
As he drives, he begins to explain his home life to you. He mentioned how he will be coming home to his little sister, Abby, sleeping, along with their neighbor who babysits her for him. He went on further to say how she won’t be a bother, but there will be a point in the morning where he needs to take her to school. Upon learning this information, you grow a stronger sense of compassion and admiration for Mike, adoring the way he is able to be so noble and caring for those important to him.
“That won’t be a problem. Thanks so much for explaining that to me.” You say. Mike releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He was grateful that you were such an understanding person. That was one of the first things he noticed about you.
Mike opens the front door, the apartment quiet except for the hum of the television that emitted from the living room. Passing through the common area, you follow Mike to the living room where he gently woke his neighbor, relieving her of her duties. She smiles at you with a knowing look after introducing herself as Carrie. Shortly after the introduction, she sees herself out, leaving you and Mike alone in the living room.
Out of habit, Mike goes to shrug off his jacket, only to realize you’re still wearing it.
“Oh-” He begins, laughing at himself. “You can–I mean, you don’t have to-”
“I know.” You say. You don’t take it off.
That earns you a smile from Mike. A genuine – however tired and crooked – smile.
“I um..I’m not good at this whole…talking and explaining myself thing.” Mike begins, hand finding its way to the back of his head as he scratches.
“You don’t have to be good at it.” You begin, taking a step closer to him. “Just be honest.”
He takes your hand in his tentatively.
“I..keep people at arm’s length. Not because I want to, but because it always seems that those I care about are dragged into this mess. It started with my brother. When we were younger, he was kidnapped. I never saw him again. I still suffer from that loss, but have been better about it since..well..” Mike starts, taking a deep breath. “We should sit down.” He suggests.
You listen and nod, taking a seat next to him. Your thighs were almost touching.
He opens his mouth and begins to explain about Garret. About the kidnapping, the chasing of the culprit, the dreams, the trauma, the loss of his parents, the guardianship of Abby. And how he started at Freddy’s. He explained Springtrap, the yellow rabbit and serial killing man who went after Mike, his sister, and his friend Vanessa.
But the animatronics were only possessed by children, wandering lost in the establishment, hunting those they pose as threats due to the engrained fear that everyone is out to get them.
They were Abby’s friends. And he was there to protect them and whoever stepped foot into the pizzeria and stood in the animatronics' harmful way.
He didn’t expect you to understand it all, let alone any of it, but you nodded along, listening and holding onto his every word as he explained the horrors of his life.
After he finished speaking, he turned to you, trying to read your expression. He was unable to, which made him scared.
Instead of speaking immediately, you slowly reach for his hand, allowing him to pull away. But when he doesn’t, you intertwine your fingers and hold his hand in your lap.
“Thank you for telling me everything, Mike. You’ve been through so damn much. And you’re so…brave. I know that’s cliche, but it’s the truth. You don’t let anything stand in the way, and you protect those you care about. Those are the qualities of a truly brave individual. And I admire you for that.” You say sincerely.
“Everyone I care about seems to get dragged into this mess. Me, Abby, and everything at Freddy’s. It all gets tossed around and tampered with. And when you started the job, I was just…I was there to protect you, like I protect every new hire. But you…something about you was different right from the start. And that’s something that scared me. You weren’t supposed to matter. Not so quickly, at least. But you did.” He admits.
“Is that why you never introduced yourself to me, and why you left notes instead of training me yourself?” You remark, wanting more and more answers as the conversation progressed.
He nodded slowly, shocked you were so perceptive. He underestimated you. He felt guilty for that.
“I told myself it was just about keeping you safe, just like everyone else. But before I knew it, it turned into something more…at least it did for me.” Mike says, now avoiding your gaze. He was worried that maybe you didn’t feel the same, despite the fact that you were holding his hand in your lap.
“I told myself I was keeping you safe and that it was all a part of the job, like it is for me with Abby, but that stopped being true.” He continues.
“I care too much about you, (Y/N). And that scares the hell out of me.” He finishes, looking to the floor.
You squeeze his hand, and he looks back at you, not even noticing that tears were pricking the corners of his eyes. You scoot closer to him, bringing your knees up on the couch so your knees slightly rested atop of his.
“I care about you too, Mike. A lot more than I think I should.” You say, not wanting the silence to deafen the room.
“But, I don’t think the problem is you caring about me.” You begin. “It’s pretending you don't, that is.”
Mike bows his head at your words, feeling ashamed, but understanding where you were coming from.
“That doesn’t mean you can’t change now.” You whisper, squeezing his hand once more. He picks his head up and turns to you, a tear running down his cheek. You take your free hand and rub it with your thumb, holding his face. He scans your gaze for anything, only finding longing and understanding, the emotions mirroring his own.
“I want to change.” Mike says quickly. You nod. You bring your hand back down to your side.
“Only if you really, truly want to. I don’t want you to change anything about yourself. I..really like you for you.” You catch yourself. “I just need you to show you care.”
Mike noticed the way you caught yourself and smiled to himself. Were you about to say you loved him?
“I just need your patience, but I can absolutely do that.” He says.
Silence engulfs the room.
It was Mike who broke it after a few moments.
“I almost kissed you back there.” He starts. “And then I panicked.”
“I noticed.” You smile.
“Figures.” He says, his smile mirroring yours. He takes this opportunity to wrap an arm around you, pulling you slightly closer to him. You melt into the touch. Mike notices.
“We don’t have to figure out everything today. We survived another night. That’s what matters, right?” You say. He nods.
“You’re right.”
“Can I…?” He asks, already leaning in.
“Please.” You whisper.
This time, there’s no interruption. No alarms, no flickering lights, no noises outside of a barricaded door.
It’s soft, deliberate, and desperate all the same.
It was slow, meaningful, and filled with love and adoration for one another.
Just a sweet, tentative kiss shared between two people.
And when you pull back, your foreheads rest against one another, looking into each other’s eyes.
“Stay?” He asks. Not just for the night. But for everything that’s to come.
“Yeah,” you begin. “I’ll stay.”
Hi friends! I have a few fnaf fic ideas and wanted to give you an option as to what gets published first!
All fics are gender neutral! reader x Mike Schmidt
(poll below the cut)
• I'll Be There (supernatural/curse AU)
For Mike Schmidt, immortality is not a gift—it’s a curse carved into every lifetime he’s forced to endure. He doesn’t have fangs, magic, or superhuman abilities; he simply cannot die. Centuries pass, eras change, the world resets around him without warning… but one thing never changes. He always meets you. In every life, no matter the year, country, or version of himself he wakes up as, he finds you again. And in every life, the pattern repeats: you meet as strangers, you grow close, too close, and just when your bond deepens into something undeniable, tragedy steals you away. You die—sometimes suddenly, sometimes slowly, but always before him. Always in his arms. Always with him powerless to stop it. Then the world goes dark. Time fractures. A new life begins. And Mike carries the memory of you into the next existence, while you return with no memory of him at all. It’s a relentless cycle he can’t escape. A cruel joke of the universe. A soulmate bond corrupted into a curse—one that ensures he must fall for you over and over, only to lose you the moment fate decides he’s gotten too close. And now, in this lifetime, it’s happening again. Mike can feel it: the familiarity, the pull, the fear. You’ve crossed paths, and the curse has already begun its slow tightening around the both of you. This time, though… he’s not sure he can let the universe win.
• You (hospital AU)
Mike Schmidt isn’t the type to talk to people—he never has been. Quiet, withdrawn, and constantly running on the edge of exhaustion, he keeps his distance from everyone. Everyone except you. You work the night shift at a nearly empty hospital, used to treating the occasional emergency without much conversation. But one night, Mike stumbles in—bloody, shaken, and refusing to explain what happened. Every attempt the staff makes to question him is met with silence or a flinch, and he seems prepared to walk out rather than say a word. Until they assign you as his nurse. With you, something shifts. Mike watches you like he recognizes something familiar. He listens to you. And, slowly, he speaks—softly, reluctantly, but only to you. You’re the only one he trusts enough to let near him, the only one he’ll allow to patch him up despite injuries that don’t match any explanation he’s willing to give. As you try to treat him, you begin sensing that whatever hurt him isn’t something normal, or safe, or human. And Mike seems terrified that the truth—whatever it is—will put you in danger simply by being close to him. But even so, he keeps coming back. And you’re the only person he’ll talk to. Little by little, you realize that you’re not just healing him—you’re unraveling the secrets of his nights, the trauma he carries, and the reasons he keeps choosing you, even when he barely chooses anyone at all.
• Deserve (soulmate au)
In a world where soulmates share identical scars, you’ve always wondered what yours would look like—and who it would connect you to. One night, the mark finally appears: a sharp, jagged line carved across your forearm, as if fate had dragged its nail through your skin. A few days later, you meet Mike Schmidt. Quiet, guarded, and strangely tense, Mike seems nervous around everyone… but when he catches sight of your scar, he freezes. His eyes widen. His hand instinctively goes to his own forearm—where the same jagged scar hides beneath his sleeve. Instead of being relieved or overjoyed, he steps back as if burned. He mutters, “You don’t want me,” already turning away, already trying to sever whatever invisible thread ties you together. But you refuse to let it snap. You catch his wrist gently, grounding him in place. For the first time, Mike forces himself to meet your eyes, the fear in his expression stark and raw. This connection terrifies him—because he feels unworthy of it, unworthy of you. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, like a confession. “Let me decide that,” you whisper back. And in that fragile moment, the bond between you begins—not as destiny demands, but as you choose.
How far is Mike willing to go to get his vest back in time for work?
✧ Jealous Mike Schmidt (gn! r)
jealous Mike Schmidt headcanons
✧ What’s in the Bag? (nsfw ; ftm! r)
ftm! mike Schmidt x ftm! reader. Mike accidentally brings the wrong bag to a sleepover…what do you do when you find out? *nsfw*
✧ We Fight, We Make Up (gn! r)
Months into dating your boyfriend, Mike, you trigger one of your first fights. How well do you two handle it?
✧ Try it Out (nsfw; ftm! r)
After searching porn one night, you stumble across breeding and develop a new kink. How will you let your boyfriend know that you want to try it out? *nsfw*
✧ Sweetheart (gn! r)
Mike comforts the reader after a bad day.
✧ Necklace (gn! r)
Valentine’s Day necklace with Mike.
✧ Lazy Mornings (gn! r)
Lazy Morning headcanons with Mike.
✧ Behave (ftm! r)
All the best puppy boys (Mike) can only behave if they’re trained properly. *nsfw*
✧ You’re Mine (gn! r)
Jealous Mike Schmidt headcanons turned into a fic. *nsfw*
✧ Anniversary Picnic (gn! r)
One year anniversary with Mike (headcanons)
✧ Subtle (gn! r)
Mike isn’t so subtle about his feelings for you.
✧ Baby (gn!afab!r)
You and Mike have been together for the past 8 years, engaged for one year, Abby now officially being 18 and going off to college, leaving you to be empty nesters. Feeling lonely and missing Abby, Mike brings up a discussion you once had and proposes an idea: maybe it’s time to try for a baby. *nsfw*
✧ Invested (gn!r) | pt1 | pt.2
You struggle with BPD and maintaining stable relationships. Your biggest frustration is your obsessive nature. You vow to take a break from relationships, but then you meet Mike. You swear things will be different this time around, but will that really end up being true, or will things end in flames like they always do? *nsfw*
✧ Binders (nb! or ftm! r)
You and Mike have finally taken a big step in your relationship: you two move in together. When moving into his house, a few of your personal boxes got stolen in the moving truck: so you were without a very important clothing article…your binders. Destroyed and dysphoric, Mike is determined to help you feel better. He saves up his money to buy you a new binder.
✧ Defensive (gn! r)
Mike and Abby had moved in next door to you a week before you met them. After becoming friends with Mike over the course of a few months, he calls you up one night needing help. With him and Abby in danger, how will you handle your own encounter with animatronics at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria?
✧ The Night Shift (gn! r)
You’re the new hire at Freddy Fazbear’s pizza, starting just about a week after Mike did. However, he was not fond of you from the get-go and made it blatantly obvious. But, when the animatronics start to wander at night, your lives are at stake. Will he put his feelings aside to save you, or will his stubbornness put you in jeopardy?
✧ How Will This Work? (gn! r) | pt. 1 |
Everyone knows of the trope where Abby loves you, but what happens when Abby meets you in a less ideal situation and hates you right off the bat?
✧ Pervy Best Friend (ftm! r)
Modern Day College AU! You and Mike are roommates in college, living together to make ends meet. Mike knows about your OnlyFans profile since you openly talk to him about it. He works at a grocery store. But little do you know he uses some of his paycheck to stay subscribed to your page so he can get off to your content...all the time. What will you do when you come home and find him getting off to your pictures? *nsfw*
Coming Soon….
✧ Meet Again (ftm! r)
After years of not seeing your ex boyfriend, Mike, after a nasty breakup, you bump into him in a bar. Needless to say, he takes out years of pent up aggression during a wild one night stand. *nsfw*
summary: You and Mike are forced to work a tense night shift together at Freddy’s despite your deep mutual distrust. When the power suddenly goes out, you’re trapped in the security office with danger looming outside, forcing you to rely on one another to survive. What begins as hostility slowly shifts into something more complicated, setting the stage for a fragile truce and emotions neither of you are ready to admit.
pairing: mike schmidt x gn! reader
word count: 2,367
warnings: none
requested: nope! leave some requests tho!
author's note: hello! after seeing the fnaf 2 movie I am deeply inspired to write more Mike content. hope y'all enjoy this!
Situations like this – less ideal ones – always managed to surface. Or at least that’s what you rationalized with.
The night just started off wrong, or at least it always did whenever you saw Mike’s name on the shift board along with yours. A crucial fact you wouldn’t come to be aware of until arriving at your shift. Of course, of all people to get paired up with, you got paired with Mike, the bum of a worker who you absolutely detested.
Mike never outright did anything directly to insult you or make you feel less than, but his presence still made you feel like he did. He was inherently hostile and bitter, an entity you couldn’t stand to be around. Something about him made you not trust him.
And he felt the same way about you.
There was something reckless about your demeanor that he didn’t like. Maybe it was your fearlessness and his envy of that fact, or maybe it was something more. Whatever it was, he didn’t care. All he knew was one thing: he didn’t like you. And you swore he never would.
The tension in the air was thick in the office far too small for two people to fit into. It was a crammed space, filled with monitors, cameras, shelves littered with varying tools and random items, and two chairs meant for whoever was on staff that night. And of course, those two chairs had your names right on them, taunting you as if to say “good luck!”
He walks in. You don’t dare look in his direction. When he notices you sitting in your respective chair, he grunts.
“You’re here.”
“And you’re alive. Guess that’s a miracle, however you want to believe it.” You retort, not meeting his gaze. He scoffs at your comment and rolls his eyes, grabbing the back of the chair and pulling it out with a swift screech against the tiled floors. You wince at the sound.
“Any louder and you’ll draw attention to us.” You remark, referring to the feisty animatronics that were growing increasingly irritable as the weeks progressed.
“Shut up.” Mike whispers, clicking his tongue with disapproval. He takes his seat and reaches for the control panel where your hand already rested. His hand brushes against yours. You retract your own as if the touch burned you.
“Easy there.” Mike says with what sounded like a laugh. But it was hard to tell with his cold expression. You huff and cross your arms, growing increasingly annoyed as the seconds dragged on.
You don’t like him and the confidence he had in what he was doing, almost like he knew how to handle the animatronics and what they’re capable of. That alone made you curious of his trustworthiness.
He doesn’t like you, and you can tell based on how tense he gets every time you mess with the door controls.
“Stop messing with those.” He says flatly, going to reach for the controls where your hands already were. Against your better judgement, you slap the back of his hand and tell him to stop.
“What the fuck was that?” Mike asks, referring to the slap. You smirk and shrug. His blood boils at your reaction, let alone the action you took. He wanted to…well, he didn’t know what he wanted to do to you. He just knew he didn’t want to be here with you, of all people.
The minutes continue to pass, the hand on the clock ticking tauntingly. You internally groan at the fact that it has only been thirty minutes into your shift.
You proceed to mess with the controls as time progresses. Two hours and some glares later, Mike speaks again.
“Fucking stop wasting power.”
“Stop acting like you’re in charge.” You retort. Just as you go to check the cameras, the power goes out without a warning, without a flicker, without a hum. Silence and stillness casts over the building.
“Flashlight.” Mike demands.
“Get it yourself.” You remark.
“Now is not the time for your stubborn games. Flashlight, now.” He says sternly, teeth gritted and voice slightly raised despite its whispered tone. Of course, working with you meant that the worst of the worst would happen. But Mike didn’t care. He didn’t care about you. He cared about himself and his sister, and would do anything to make sure both bases were protected, but you? He didn’t care. You were childish, and rather annoying to him. He didn’t care if they got to you. So, with your insistent refusal, he gets up to find the flashlight himself.
“Fine. You can die, (Y/N).” Mike says flatly.
That got your attention.
“What?!” You gasp, standing up and following him to the flashlight bin, which of course, only had one flashlight. But, Mike ignored you. He swiftly moved past you and back to the desk where he flicked on the flashlight, illuminating the room with a weak glow.
You stomp up to the desk with rage. “What the fuck do you mean I can die?” You demand, slamming your hands on the desk where Mike was now sitting.
“Will you keep it down? You’re going to wake them.” Mike sternly shushes you, gesturing for you to lower your voice.
“Not until you fucking explain what you mea-” You begin, cut off by the sound of mechanical whirring from outside the security room.
“That’s what I mean. We needed the power to survive the night. Now, we really have to survive.” Mike states, running a hand through his hair as his knee bounces wildly. Your eyebrow raises as you process his anxious demeanor. Was he really scared of the robots?
“They’re just kid’s robots.” You laugh, trying to assure yourself. But, the noises outside the door grew louder.
“Do you know nothing about this place?” Mike laughs with a scoff, shaking his head.
“What do you-” You begin.
“I mean we’re in fucking danger now thanks to your idiocy.” Mike retorts.
“Hey!” You say with evident offense, clicking your tongue with annoyance.
“You really think this is my fault? That I’d do this on purpose and trap us in here with those…those things?” You grit, taking a step closer to Mike as he stands up, mirroring your action, the distance between the two of you closing rapidly.
“Yeah, it’s pretty fucking clear that this is all your faul-” Mike goes to protest, but is cut off when you swiftly grab the collar of his shirt within your grasp, pushing him up against the wall. He gasps in shock but wastes no time grabbing the collar of your shirt in return.
Your noses are almost touching, chests heaving angrily as you invade one another’s personal space.
“You don’t talk to me like that.” You spit.
“I can talk to you however I want.” Mike grits.
You inhale sharply, biting your lower lip out of frustration.
He glares at you, not breaking eye contact, attempting to be more dominating despite your equal height.
Yet, despite the tension, neither of you are truly fighting.
Your heartbeat is loud in your ears, and you can almost feel Mike’s due to his proximity.
Outside the door, metal drags along the floor.
Inside the office, it’s stupidly quiet, sans for your heartbeat and jagged breaths.
“You better fucking watch yourself, Schmidt.” You grit, glaring into his eyes. He glares into yours as a smirk plasters across his face.
“Or what?” He taunts, gripping your shirt harder, causing you to fall forward a little.
Your breath catches in your throat.
You search his eyes for an explanation, but only find a tempting gaze.
Your noses are touching. You’re gripping one another’s shirts harshly, carelessly with determination.
You hear a loud bang against the door, causing you and Mike to jump apart, hands releasing each other’s shirts. Mike reaches for the flashlight at the same time as you, but you grabbed it first, picking it up. He grips it and tugs, and you tug, and start a little game of tug of war.
“Knock it off!” Mike demands in between tugs.
“Let go.” You grit through the power struggle, yanking the flashlight hard, causing Mike to stumble over, almost crashing into you. But he caught himself before your bodies would barrel to the floor. Victorious with the flashlight, you angle it across the room and scan your surroundings, Mike looking along curiously.
“Are you tracking them?” He asks.
“Shut up.” You hiss. Mike scoffs.
“Make me.” He taunts, invading your personal space to reach for the flashlight. He grabs it again, but you don’t let go. You grip it tightly and proceed to fight with him for it again.
“Let go!” You demand with frustration.
“You first.” He growls, tugging the flashlight harshly, causing your bodies to connect. You look up at him, noses touching again, breath catching in your throat as your chests touch. Your hands still grip the flashlight, but the object seems to be forgotten when your eyes connect.
“Shhh.” Mike whispers, breath slowing down as he scans your face. For a moment, a brief moment, he looks at you: really looks at you. And sympathizes with your fear.
His thumb runs across your hand.
It wasn’t an accident.
You realize you’re still fighting for the flashlight.
“I said, let go.” You whisper, the tension seeming to fade with the close proximity.
“You didn’t mean it.” He whispers, thumb running against your hand again. You want to pull away, but you don’t. You were far too stubborn to let up just yet.
Outside, something thuds against the wall close to the door, and thuds again and again.
Mike grabs your wrist with his free hand and pries your hand from the light. However, when he wrenches the light free, he doesn’t let go of your wrist. The grip wasn’t hard, nor was it soft. It was a statement of something you couldn’t quite decipher yet.
“What’re you doing?” You ask timidly, looking at Mike as you’re hyper aware of the feeling of his fingers wrapped around your skin.
“Keeping us alive.” Mike says. But, you could sense the determination and shift, whatever the reason may be.
You nod and for the first time all night, bite your tongue.
Your gazes remain locked on one another, and Mike leans in without thinking. And maybe you do, too. A smile emits on his face with a dry but genuine laugh. “This is a bad idea.”
You almost laugh.
Almost.
“Yeah.” You whisper.
Your noses touch. He pauses, giving you the chance to pull away. But you don’t. He glances at your lips, absentmindedly licking his own as his heart pounds against his chest, be it from adrenaline or excitement.
But, before your lips can properly meet, only a hairbreadth away, the office phone rings.
And then there’s a knock at the door. Not a thud, or a bang, but a knock.
It went just as quickly as it came, and it didn’t come again.
The knock itself was eerie.
The silence afterwards was worse.
Mike shifts closer to you, mindlessly standing behind you, hands resting on your shoulders as he whispers: “Stay close.”
You don’t dare argue.
You glance at the time.
5:57am. You were almost there.
You lean into Mike’s touch as the thudding against the door proceeded again.
Then, at long last, 6am rolls around and the lights flicker back on, the alarm clock blaring its tune to reveal the survival of another night.
6:02am and Mike is pushing against the door, trying to allow the two of you to leave.
Except, it won’t budge.
“The door's jammed.” Mike remarks.
“Figures.” You state with a frustrated scoff.
You join him at the door and slam your body against it in hopes to help him open it, but your combined efforts were futile.
You make the mistake of turning to Mike and meeting his gaze. He was already looking at you.
“What?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. He shrugs.
“Nothing.”
But you don’t let it go.
“Back there, you actually seemed to want to protect me. I thought you hated me.”
Mike grows a look of confusion, but smiles nonetheless.
“Haven’t for a while.” He smiles.
“So you did though.”
“Same as you hated me.” He shrugs, smirking slightly. His hand brushes against yours.
You smile to yourself for the first time that night.
You look back to Mike, whose gaze was fixated on your lips. He licks his own.
And that’s when the distance between you closed.
It wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t quick.
He brought his hand up to your face, hesitating before making contact, giving you every opportunity to tell him to or make him stop. But, when you don’t, he takes a step closer until your chests are almost touching.
You lean in, heartbeat evident and loud in your ears.
He’s fixated on you.
“Can I…?” He asks timidly, needing to know if this was okay.
And when you nod, he swore his heart bursted into flames. His lips find yours quietly, the connections soft and delicate, as if anything more could burn the two of you.
His breath stutters against your mouth. Your heart beats so loud and fast you’re sure he’s aware of it.
It’s a few seconds, that’s all. Short-lived, for that matter.
And then you’re resting your forehead against his.
He’s smiling.
“Guess we’re not enemies anymore.” You remark with a teasing tone.
He laughs. “Guess not.”
The door buzzes open a second later. Of course it does. And he takes a step back – not far – just enough to let you leave if you want to.
But you don’t. You want to stay, stay with him. Or go with him. Whatever it was, you just knew you wanted more of him.
And he did too.
So, without considering the consequences, he takes your hand in his and leads you out of the establishment.
“Let’s get out of here.” He announces with a smile. And you mirror it, following his lead to the exit.
Outside, the sun began to rise, allowing for a purple hue to cast over the horizon.
*slight fnaf 2 movie spoilers*
summary: Mike and Abby had moved in next door to you a week before you met them. After becoming friends with Mike over the course of a few months, he calls you up one night needing help. With him and Abby in danger, how will you handle your own encounter with animatronics at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria?
pairing: mike schmidt (fnaf 2) x gn! reader
content warnings: slight fnaf 2 movie spoilers, cursing, alcohol consumption, horror elements
requested? no, but pls leave some requests!
word count: 4,725
author's note: hi! i saw fnaf 2 on saturday and have sooOOOoOoOOo many fic ideas. here's one that i wrote in like 3 hrs! hope you enjoy :)
- apollo
The palpitations emanating from your heart were enough to make you lightheaded, or maybe it was from you holding your breath. Whatever the case may be, you were standing face to face with an entity much larger than you, trembling in a futile effort to stay completely motionless. Maybe playing dead would make them go away? Your racing thoughts were squashed when their mechanical eyes grazed over your form. There was no way staying still or playing dead would fool them. Their systems are far too advanced. All seems hopeless. Until you heard his voice.
You met Mike about a week after he had moved into your town, the unity being unlikely, however, fate had other plans and intended for the two of your paths to cross. Abby was outside alone one Saturday morning, the sun shining in the cloudless blue sky, the heat of the summer morning reigning for humidity surrounding everything, no matter the use of an air conditioner. However, despite the raging heatwave and imminent discomfort, Abby proceeded to spend the start of her day outside running through the sprinkler that Mike set up for her.
You were in your driveway washing your car in the 9am sunshine, sweating bullets despite how early it was in the day. You cursed yourself for your car being white and dirty in the dead of a heatwave, but complaining was useless when there were bigger things to worry about.
From across the way, your new neighbor, the brown haired girl with the contagious laugh, tripped over one of her toys in the grass and landed knees first into the driveway, the sight of blood immediately on her skin. Witnessing the fall and hearing her anguished cry, without even considering her parents could be inside, you rush to her aide to ask if she is alright.
Through a fit of tears she clutches her scraped leg, showing the wound on her knee to you just as Mike, who you assumed was her ridiculously handsome and alarmingly young father, ran out of the house and to Abby’s rescue. He scooped her into his arms and asked what happened, but she was too shocked to verbally process what had happened, so through hiccups and sniffles, she shrugs and continues to cry.
“Do you need a first aid kit? Mine is right in my car.” You say, pointing to your open car door. Mike looks at you, almost insulted, as if to say “how dare you assume I don’t have supplies to care for my child?”, but upon seeing the wound and the blood dripping onto the driveway, his face altered as he nodded quickly, thanking you. You rush to your car and take out the kit and rush back to the man and the girl, determined to help as much as you could. He sets her down on a dry patch of grass and gestures to you for the kit. You hand it to him and he takes it, opening it and shuffling through the contents to get what was needed. After a few moments of cleaning the wound through the girl’s screams, the cries eventually subsided as the wound was covered, and the first aid kit was placed back in your hands.
“Thank you so much…” He trials off, leaving room for you to fill in the blank with your name, which you do.
“(Y/N)...thanks again. I’m Mike…and this is Abby. What even happened?” He asks with an eyebrow raised towards Abby.
Abby spoke up and retold the story of how she was running through the sprinkler, slipped on one of her toys and fell on the driveway, skidding her knee against the concrete. Mike kissed her forehead and told her she was going to be okay. He asked her if she wanted to come inside for the rest of the day, where she then proceeded to get up and run back towards the running sprinkler without another word. The two of you shared a laugh as you sat in Mike’s driveway.
“Thanks for looking out for my sister.” Mike says with a smile, reaching out to shake your hand. You take his rather coarse hand in yours and give it a light shake, the soft gesture not matching the feeling of his rough hands against yours. The feeling made your heart skip a beat, but that also could be due to the fact that you’re interacting with such an attractive stranger.
Yet, just as soon as his hand found yours, the warmth of the contact was gone and replaced with the humidity of the day.
“You’re welcome.” You say, almost unfazed by the fact that this was his sister.
Almost.
“You said she’s your sister?” You inquire with slight shock. He laughs and nods.
“Yeah. No, I’m not her dad. I’m her caretaker though.” He replies while avoiding eye contact. You nod along, intrigued by how that responsibility came to be, but realized it was not your place to pry. So, you didn’t. Instead, you just smile and change the subject.
“You two just moved in, right?” You ask, gesturing to his house. He looks at it proudly yet sheepishly, and nods.
“Yeah, a little over a week ago. We haven’t exactly gotten around to neighborly introductions yet, sorry about that.” He says with embarrassment in his tone.
“Nothing to be sorry for, really.” You assure.
And before you knew it, the noon sun was beating down on the two of you amidst a shared conversation through getting to know one another, Abby interrupting by announcing her desire for lunch.
“Did you want to come inside? I don’t mean to brag, but I make a mean PB&J sandwich.” He says with amusement in his tone. You smile and nod at the proposition, excited to see where this was going.
Through the two hour conversation on Mike’s lawn, you learned a lot about him and his sister. After his experience at Freddy’s with Abby a few months prior, he had become less reserved and learned to be more open with his feelings and experiences, trying to lead by example for his sister, which was proving to be a success in itself. He had no shame in telling you about how he became Abby’s caregiver and lost his brother and parents. He also shared no shame in telling you about the trauma he and Abby went through. But, just as you were about to respond was when Abby announced her hunger, therefore Mike was left with a little anxiety about how much he unloaded onto you.
However, when you agreed to take the conversation inside, he knew that he hadn’t scared you off with such a vulnerable tale and you were still there even after learning some of the horrors, however base level the information may be.
After a few minutes in the kitchen and watching TV with an unwinding Abby, Mike emerged into the living room with three plates, one each holding a sandwich for all of you. You smile and thank Mike as he hands you the plate, Abby, curled up under a blanket with a towel in her hair, thanks Mike as well as she immediately begins to scarf down her food, the prior physical activity working up an appetite. Abby continues to watch her TV as she eats while you and Mike sit with her on the couch.
Despite the innocence of the situation, you couldn’t ignore the chemistry and ignition of emotions when Mike’s knee brushed against yours, or how his thigh was pressed against yours when he sat back down after cleaning up lunch. No shortly after was that done did he peek over to see his sister sound asleep wrapped in her blanket.
“I’m not kicking you out, but I also don’t wanna keep you here if you have things you need to do.” Mike says, avoiding eye contact once again. You start to nod and stand up.
“Yeah, I should probably get back to washing my car. But this was all really nice. I appreciate everything you’ve shared with me today, and I’d love to hang out again sometime.” You begin with a smile.
“If you ever want to, you know where to find me.” You tease. Mike gets up with you and smiles. He starts to walk you to the door.
“You’re fun, (Y/N). I definitely want to see more of you.” Mike says as you put your shoes on.
“Can I get your number, too?” He asks sheepishly. You nod before he could even finish the question. You exchange numbers and get back to washing your car.
An hour after you finished and decided to go inside, you check your phone to see a message from Mike just minutes prior.
You spent the rest of your day cleaning your house and texting Mike on and off.
Through the days that followed, you and Mike would text here and there, oftentimes greeting each other in passing: whether it be in the morning when he drops Abby off at summer camp and you’re leaving for work, the afternoon when he gets Abby off the camp bus, or sometimes at night when you’d be outside on the porch enjoying the summer evening pass you by.
As the days and greetings progressed, you yearned for Mike more and more. He started to occupy a lot of your thoughts and time, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was pondering the same things you were, if he was longing in the same ways. He was your first thought in the morning and the last before bed, considering you two were now conditioned into sending one another good morning and goodnight messages.
Two weeks after your first interaction, it was Saturday again, and you were doing some gardening on that cool summer day. The skies were a light grey, the aftermath of a harsh summer thunderstorm that passed the night prior. The days and nights were growing colder as summer grew to a close, but you were not ready to let go of it yet. And neither was Mike. So, he invited you over for a last-weekend-of-summer barbecue and marshmallow roasting night with him and Abby.
However, by the time you arrived at your neighbor’s house, he opened the door with a sheepish smile.
“Hey…so uh, Abby twisted my arm and I let her go sleepover her friend’s house tonight. That happened about thirty minutes ago. So tonight is uh…just us. Hope that’s okay.” He says, looking to the floor. Your heart skipped a beat and fluttered at the prospect of hanging out with Mike alone for the night. So, you laughed and smiled a little wider than you should have.
“Damn, here I really wanted to chill with Abby. Bummer.” You tease. For a moment, Mike considered your faux sadness to be true, but when his eyes met yours, all he could see was amusement. So, he laughed with you and gestured you inside. He led you through the house to the back deck where the grill was, along with a firepit in the backyard. The desk and yard were done up nicely with string lights and mosquito-repellent candles, tables and chairs in all the right places.
The night was spent with shared jokes, continuing to get to know one another, and general camaraderie between the two blossoming friends. You let Mike in on things about your world, and he did the same for you. After dinner, Mike offered you a can of beer. After the two of you get halfway through your cans, you decide to branch onto roasting marshmallows where the cans continue to flow. Finishing a six pack between the two of you within an hour, you were giggly messes while you ate messy s’mores.
Your heart nearly flew out of your chest when Mike’s thumb ran across your lower lip to remove smudged melted chocolate that stained them. He carried on with a conversation after as if nothing happened, but you were left there in your thoughts, tuning out his words with your mindless racing of how flustered the gesture made you. But, eventually you were able to tune back in and brush off the feeling despite how on fire it made your heart…or maybe that was just the alcohol talking.
About an hour after the lip touch, you and Mike were decently drunk and ridiculously giggly messes. You two cracked childish jokes that only you two would laugh at, making the moment so much sweeter than it already was.
Yet, as beautiful as the moment was, it was short-lived when you found yourself dozing off in one of Mike’s backyard chairs.
“(Y/N)? You okay there, sleepyhead?” He asks with a smile, moving some hair from your forehead.
“Shiiit. Sorry.” You whine, rubbing your eyes with a yawn.
“No worries, I just didn’t think you’d wanna sleep outside. Wanna come in or want me to walk you home?” Mike asks, fingers crossed behind his back as he hoped you’d want to spend the night.
But when you decide to walk home, he frowns, but quickly replaces it with a smile as he nods and holds his hand out for you to take. Your heart skips a beat as his fingers intertwine with yours as he helps you to your feet, allowing your hands to hold one another as he walks you from his backyard to your front door.
“This has been really nice.” Mike says, standing awkwardly as he tries his best to weaken his beaming smile, not wanting to come on too lovestruck, despite how much he felt it.
“This has been. Thanks so much for everything, Mike.” You smile, fiddling in your pockets for your keys.
“So…I’ll see you soon?” Mike asks hopefully, cringing internally due to how desperate he might’ve sounded.
“For sure.” You smile, unlocking your door.
“Goodnight.” You say at the same time, before laughing it off. You walk inside your house, taking one last look at the smiling Mike you were coming to know and adore, before softly closing the door for the night.
Until the following night when you got a call from him.
You two had texted each other good morning as per usual, wishing each other a good day as you drove off to work and he and Abby got into his car. You went on about your day as you usually do, texting Mike on your lunch break. You got home from work and noticed he wasn’t home. You didn’t pay much mind to it considering he has his own life. But as the sun began to set and you received no text from him and were yet to see his car in his driveway, you began to grow a little nervous for your friend. You wanted to text and ask if he was okay, but it didn’t feel like your place to.
Yet, when 8:47 pm rolled around, your heart raced as your phone buzzed with a call from Mike.
“Mike?” You say into the line.
“(Y/N)!” He practically screams. You can hear mechanical whirring in the background, followed along by what sounded like Mike’s heavy breathing and running footsteps.
“Mike? What’s going on? Where are you?” You ask, getting up and searching for your keys, as something in you told him you needed to go help him.
“It’s Abby, she…fuck, there’s hardly anytime to explain. I need your help and I need it now. I’m at the original Freddy’s Pizzeria, I’ll explain everything when you get here. Just, fuck. Bring something to dismantle robots with, I don’t fucking know! Just help!” He cries out, before the line goes dead.
With a surge of adrenaline, you rush out the door and speed through the roads in a daze all the way to the original Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.
You park haphazardly and burst into the building with a flashlight and a backpack filled with varying tools you hoped would help dismantle the robots Mike was talking about. You could only assume he meant the animatronics that he talked about from his encounter at the other location.
You go to scream out Mike’s name, but realize it might be against your better judgement considering what you know about these animatronics.
Instead, you recount everything Mike has told you about his survival at Freddy’s and made your next moves based on that. You turned on a flashlight and began to illuminate the abandoned attraction, heart racing in fear and from adrenaline as you began to walk the floors, listening closely to the sounds of terror and destruction from across the building. You made your way to the noise, the screams evidently Mike’s, the anguished cries for help and screams of fight made your blood run cold, yearning for the opportunity to protect him.
“Don’t worry, Mike.” You think to yourself. “I’m here. I’m coming.”
You tip toe quickly across the floors, crushing glass beneath your shoes as you travel. You swallow hard and breathe shallowly as you make your way across the building. You turn right, then left, then left again, and right, down a hallway, down another hallway, and before you know it, there’s an exit sign, and the sounds that were once growing louder, had ceased.
You refuse to let yourself think anything other than optimism: Mike ran out the exit door to safety. Mike is hiding somewhere safely. Anything other than the fact that they might’ve gotten to him…
You step closer to the exit door and hold your breath, stepping closer and closer, then jogging, running, sprinting, until your slam yourself against the bar of the door, awaiting the cold relief of the fall air to enter your lungs, but the inhale never came, for the door was locked, and you were stuck.
You slam against the door over and over, hoping for a different result with each assault to your shoulder, but the escape never came.
“Fuck!” You scream, forgetting that your noise would only attract the animatronics.
But you were too late to begin with. They already heard you throughout the building. Toy Freddy already saw you and alerted the others. It wasn’t until you heard the familiar tune of Foxy’s song did you realize you were cornered in a hallway with nowhere to run. The sounds of whirring mechanical footsteps grew closer and closer as you panicked.
But you froze.
The palpitations emanating from your heart were enough to make you lightheaded, or maybe it was from you holding your breath. Whatever the case may be, you were standing face to face with an entity much larger than you, trembling in a futile effort to stay completely motionless. Maybe playing dead would make them go away? Your racing thoughts were squashed when their mechanical eyes grazed over your form. There was no way staying still or playing dead would fool them. Their systems are far too advanced. All seems hopeless. Until you heard his voice.
“Don’t you fucking DARE!” Mike screams from down the hallway, Foxy’s hook in the air, ready to slash you to your death, freezes at the sound of Mike’s voice. Slowly but surely, Foxy turns his head, the mechanical sound chilling to the core.
“I said…Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare.” Mike grits, his face illuminating within the red light of the exit sign.
Foxy’s servos begin to screech as he turns around meticulously.
“(Y/N). Don’t. Move.” Mike whisper-yells, crouching down slowly as Foxy’s mechanisms divert to his text target. You were no longer the one he wanted to get…it was Mike he was after.
“Mike n-” You begin to yell, but his look of pure stern instruction shuts you up and glues you to the floor.
“Don’t.” Mike hisses, shaking his head firmly.
You nod, breath coming in short gasps as your heart continues to race, watching the scene unfold, feeling helpless. You could hardly move, could hardly breathe: all you could do was stand there frozen in place.
As Mike moved closer, you could hardly see the friendly neighbor big brother you knew and deep down, truly loved. Gone was the pure hearted boy next door, replaced with a man driven by a raw need to protect the ones he cares for: the ones he loves. That fact alone sent chills up your spine…because in that moment you knew Mike wasn’t fighting for you solely because he cares about you…he’s fighting for you because he loves you.
And that was enough to shock you to your core.
Almost so you didn’t see Foxy lunge at Mike.
Almost.
It was the pure fury in his eyes and rage in his battle cry that sent chills through your core, watching as this man that you were fawning over fought for your life. With a swift motion, Mike thrust forward a metal chair towards Foxy’s chest, sending the animatronic to the floor, stunned for a moment.
“Run!” Mike screams, gesturing for you to follow. But you don’t. You remain glued to the floor, heart still racing rapidly as you ponder what the fuck is even going on.
“I said, MOVE!” Mike shrieks, the sternness in his voice starling you enough to get your feet moving, which was his intention.
You stumbled forward just as Foxy’s hook slashed upwards, a futile attempt to lacerate you.
Mike reached for your hand as you jumped over Foxy. Yet, just as you moved over the animatronic, he swiped again, and his hook caught your pant leg, sending you crashing to the ground. You land with a grunt
The gesture alone was enough to fuel Mike in an anger induced frenzy. Before Foxy could even adjust himself to attack you, Mike’s hands found the chair again and began slamming the chair into the head of the animatronics, sparks flying as Mike demanded you to run.
“Fucking RUN, (Y/N)! RUN!” He shrieks through rage as he continues his attack, hand to hand combat against a machine much stronger than him. But it didn’t seem to matter. For he needed to protect you.
You did as he ordered and ran without looking back, but not long after were his footsteps right behind you.
“We need to hide. Or escape!” Mike proclaims, grabbing your hand as he approaches you. The gesture wasn’t enough to pull you from your thoughts or ground you in anyway. You were too frantic about everything going on to even consider what the hand grab could mean. For all you cared, you were just glad to be in the presence of Mike.
After a few more minutes of running, Mike pulls you into a storage closet. He turns the light on to scope the area, and once realizing the coast was clear, he closes the door.
“You almost got yourself killed.” Mike remarks.
“You called me here! What did you expect?” You retort, a little offended by his prior statement.
“You’re right, I’m sorry, I just..fuck.” He sighs, running his hand through his hair.
“I’m just glad you’re okay.” He breathes. You nod, breath coming out shakily as you tremble.
Against his better judgement, Mike takes a step closer to you and wraps his arms around you, releasing a shaky sigh of relief.
“You’re okay.” Mike repeats reassuringly, unsure if the words were meant to comfort you or him.
You bring your arms up and grip the sleeves of Mike’s hoodie, shaking against him as he holds you close, whispering comforting words against your ear.
“I just can’t believe you actually came.” Mike eventually says.
“You called..what else was I to do?” You retort.
“Not come.” Mike suggests with half a smile: a sign of a joke amidst the horrific chaos.
“And be without you? C’mon.” You remark with a smile mirroring his.
“Oh, hush.” Mike now fully smiles, looking away bashfully. It was that moment he realized how close he really was to you: for the first time, too. The lights begin to flicker.
“You know, for what it’s worth. Whatever happens tonight…I’m glad I came.” You say, leaning into Mike’s touch as you look up at him.
He smiles warmly, and before he could stop himself, his lips land on yours, and he’s kissing you.
It wasn’t soft.
It wasn’t careful.
It was a declaration, a proclamation of what’s to come. It was shaky, desperate, and filled with longing: like he had been waiting to do that since the day of the sprinkler incident and the first aid kit.
Because it was.
And he wanted to make sure you knew it.
Until there was another flicker.
Another flash.
And then there was darkness…a noise from behind.
You pull apart and freeze, entangled in each other’s arms. Mike’s lips move against your ear with a frantic demand…
“Run.”
He opens the closet door and the two of you barrel out of the storage room, hand in hand as you sprint down the dark hallways, taking turns and corners to get away from the impending doom. Mechanical screams were heard from all areas: the ceiling, the vents, the doors, the hallways. Everywhere you turned there was danger.
Your legs ached, your lungs burned, your face was tear stained and your chest hurt from your heart racing so much.
His body staggered, his steps out of time, his attentiveness dwindling due to the adrenaline dying down – he was crashing.
“You good?” He asks, more directed at himself than you.
“Don’t stop.” You heave, determined to crawl your way to the exit if you’d have to.
Yet, your determination wore thin at the sudden shock of a new animatronic.
Their disfigured body emerged from the ceiling vents, screeching an eerie yell that caused you to cover your ears and squint with pain. You cry out in agony as the noise hurts your brain, the animatronic turning to you sharply at the sound of your voice. Its distorted vision detects you as a target acquired.
Before you could react in time, the animatronic lunged and swung at you, swiping you across the floor. You land face first with a crack, your chin instantly aching as you come in contact with the floor. You try to get up, but your effort reigns useless in the wake of the Mangle’s attack. The animatronic pinned you to the floor.
You screamed.
Mangle screeched.
And Mike roared.
Unlike anything you’ve seen before, Mike tackles Mangle with newfound vigor and determination.
The crash was deafening. Metal against metal – bone against steel. He grabbed a fallen pipe and jammed it against the side of the Mangle’s head, slamming the bar against its skull, sparks and loose wires flying dangerously as Mike screamed an inhumane yell, each thud of the pipe earning an even louder cry from Mike. It wasn’t until the distorted face of Mangle was brittle pieces that Mike let up, shaking and crying.
You waste no time grabbing him by the wrist and taking off again.
You both scream.
You both run…
Until finally, one corridor you turned down, released you both with a burst of cold air, the night sky and sounds that emit from the bustling streetlife miles away engulfed the two of you in a welcomed embrace.
You and Mike collapse to the ground outside of the restaurant, you falling on top of him as his arms wrap around you. Ignoring the cold discomfort of the concrete, you and Mike simply sob in each other’s arms as the adrenaline of the night finally began to fade.
“I still don’t know where Abby is.” Mike eventually whispers, trembling.
“Don’t worry, we’ll find her.” You remark.
Mike shifts, you getting off him to allow him to sit up. He stands, allowing you to take his hand as he helps you up.
“And you almost…you could’ve died.” Mike says with a frown, wiping his face.
“Again…you called me here. And I wasn’t going to just let you die.” You state firmly. Mike nods, that frown still there.
“I know…I know…I just…when all of this is done and Abby is safe…I’m never going to come close to losing you ever again.” Mike says tentatively, taking a step closer to you while taking your hand in his.
You raise an eyebrow inquisitively, wondering what his words meant. But knew you could dig into the meaning of it all later.
hii, i saw you're writing for scream! i was wondering if you write something for billy?
— scream for me
pairing: billy loomis | male! reader
warnings: mdni, rough, face fucking, sub reader
side note: read part two !
(y/n) hadn’t meant to find out.
He wasn’t snooping, he swore he wasn’t. But one too many unanswered calls, one too many times Billy disappeared with a flash of something wicked in his eyes, and (y/n)’s curiosity had dragged him here. To the dusty backroom of Stu’s house. To the blood-stained robe half shoved behind a dresser. To the mask, the infamous mask, peeking out from under a pile of dirty clothes.
The pieces clicked too fast in his brain. The news reports. Casey Becker. Steve. Blood. Guts. Screaming.
And Billy. His boyfriend. His beautiful Billy, standing in the doorway now with a casual tilt to his head, a knife dangling from his fingers.
“You shouldn’t be in here, baby,” Billy said, voice smooth, lazy. Dangerous.
(y/n) stumbled back. “Billy, what the fuck..-” His voice cracked. “What the fuck is this?”
Billy just smiled, slow and wide like a wolf. “You figured it out, huh?”
(y/n)’s heart thundered against his ribs. “I’m gonna call the..-”
He didn’t even get the full sentence out. Billy was on him in a flash, hand clamping over his mouth, shoving him hard against the wall. The knife clattered to the floor, forgotten. Now it wasn’t murder in Billy’s eyes. It was something else. Something hotter. Meaner.
“You wanna scream?” Billy murmured against his ear, grinding his hips into (y/n)’s. “Scream for me, sweetheart.”
(y/n) whined low in his throat, the sound muffled by Billy’s palm. His body betrayed him, hips twitching forward even as fear licked up his spine.
Billy laughed, actually laughed,like he could read him perfectly.
“You always were such a mouthy little thing,” he said, pulling back just enough to unzip his jeans. “Guess I gotta shut you up another way.”
Before (y/n) could process it, Billy was fisting his hair, dragging him down roughly. His cock slapped against (y/n)’s lips, heavy and already leaking.
“Open,” Billy growled. No patience, no room for refusal.
(y/n) hesitated, but the punishing grip in his hair tightened painfully. Tears stung his eyes. He opened his mouth, barely, and Billy shoved inside with a grunt.
“Yeah,” Billy hissed. “There’s my good boy.”
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow. Billy fucked into (y/n)’s mouth with harsh, brutal thrusts, using his hair like reins, dragging him forward to meet every snap of his hips. (y/n) gagged almost immediately, throat convulsing around the thick length. His nails scrabbled weakly at Billy’s thighs, but Billy just chuckled low and cruel, giving a few extra rough thrusts that made (y/n)’s nose bump against the sharp bones of his hips.
“Thought you could run your mouth,” Billy panted, voice wrecked. “Thought you could tell someone.”
(y/n) could barely breathe, eyes watering, spit drooling down his chin. He wasn’t even sure when the fear blurred into something hotter, something shameful curling in his gut.
Billy slowed only to slap (y/n)’s cheek with his cock, spit and precum smearing across flushed skin. “Pathetic little thing,” he said, voice thick with affection and scorn all at once. “You’re not gonna say a goddamn word, are you?”
(y/n) shook his head, or tried to, but Billy was already pushing back in, fucking deeper this time, grinding in until (y/n)’s throat spasmed around him.
“Good boy,” Billy murmured, thumb stroking (y/n)’s tear-streaked face almost sweetly. “Knew you’d be smart.”
The last few thrusts were punishing, Billy chasing his own pleasure shamelessly. When he finally spilled down (y/n)’s throat, it was with a guttural groan and one last, bruising tug on his hair.
Billy held him there for a few long seconds, forcing him to swallow everything, before finally letting him go. (y/n) collapsed against the wall, coughing and gasping, lips swollen and slick.
Billy tucked himself away with a satisfied little hum, crouching to tilt (y/n)’s chin up between his fingers.
Summary: You’re the new hire at Freddy Fazbear’s pizza, starting just about a week after Mike did. However, he was not fond of you from the get-go and made it blatantly obvious. But, when the animatronics start to wander at night, your lives are at stake. Will he put his feelings aside to save you, or will his stubbornness put you in jeopardy?
Pairing: Mike Schmidt x GN! Reader
Warnings: foul language, mentions of blood
Requested: No, but I got this idea the other day and finally had the motivation to write. I’m not sure where I want this miniseries to go but it’s a start if anything!
Word Count: 3,730
Author’s Note: Hello! Life has been absolutely chaotic and I’ve had no energy to write. Except for tonight! It’s almost 2am and I’ve been writing since 11pm. Like I said, I’m not sure where I want this miniseries to go but if y'all have any requests as to how you and Mike can develop a relationship from this, I’d love to hear!
— The air was thick with tension as you eyed the monitors, wishing there could be some much needed distance put between you and him. You glanced over, his jaw sharp from gritting his teeth as he focused on the monitors, too. You weren’t going to lie, the guy was decently attractive. But what of it?
If there was one thing you weren’t expecting, it was being at a point in your life where you accepted the oddest job possible: a night shift guard at some kid’s pizzeria. You were surprised that with your Bachelor’s degree – having just been completed three months prior – turned out to be useless in the grand scheme of things. Here you were, fresh out of college with the prospect of student debt creeping up on you, and still out of a job. No matter where you applied, and no matter the amount of interviews, you never received a call regarding an open position, least one made available to you. So, when Freddy Fazbear’s pizza establishment inquired if you were still interested in the job you applied for, you jumped at the opportunity. They explained the hours and some necessary knowledge about the job, and of course mentioned the pay last, but, despite everything given, you agreed to work there.
Which landed you where you are now, sitting in the security office next to your new coworker who you already forgot the name of. Matt? Mark? Oh right…Mike. You didn’t care to remember because he made it pretty obvious he didn’t like you based on his first impression.
A few days after you accepted the job, you found yourself parking in the lot of the pizzeria. You couldn’t lie, the place was eerie, and looked somewhat abandoned. It creeped you out, to say the least. But, this was the right place, based on the poorly and half lit sign that read: Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria.
You go to open the door, but are startled when it swings open. You’re suddenly face to face with a stern looking, somewhat short young man. He eyes you up and down quickly, his irritated expression not faltering as he meets your gaze.
“You the new hire?” He asks, voice soft sounding despite his tough exterior. You nod, unsure of what is to come next.
“I’m Mike.” He grunts, nodding back at you.
“(Y/N).” You reply, sticking out your hand for him to shake, but he dismisses it by turning his body to the door.
“Follow me.” He demands rather than stating, but you don’t object, and follow three steps behind him.
From how his demeanor was, all you could think about was how this guy must not like you. Whether it’s the fact that he has to train you or is grumpy by working the night shift, your presence didn’t seem to make his situation any better. You frowned. You didn’t like workplaces where the environment was tense and you felt as if you were treading on eggshells. But, you couldn’t complain too much, as a job is a job, and you needed one.
So, you push the thoughts aside and pause as Mike stops once meeting a door.
“This is the security room.” He remarks, pointing to the sign that reads “Security Only”. Once again, you nod, nervous from how tense the air was. Mike ushers you inside and begins to point at things, explaining their functions and purposes as you nod and absorb the information.
“And one thing you should never do…is fall asleep.” Mike finishes, turning to you.
“What?” You ask, wondering if you heard him right.
“Do. Not. Fall. Asleep.” He repeats condescendingly. You narrow your eyes at him.
“Why would I sleep on the job?” You scoff. He rolls his eyes, which earns another scoff from you.
“Just don’t do it, alright? Now, sit down. You’re on the clock.” Mike huffs, taking a seat in a swivel chair. There was an identical one next to it. You internally groan. Frustrated and hot from anger, you take your seat next to Mike and look at the monitors.
Minutes begin to feel like hours as you just stare at the unmoving screen in silence, watching these animatronics remain utterly still. You wondered if the screen was frozen, until you caught sight of a dust particle floating across the screen, which confirmed it was a live feed.
Every now and then you would sneak glances at Mike, whose eyes never left the monitor. You begin to think about whether or not this job is worth the money if all you’re going to do is watch the animatronics to make sure nobody steals or tampers with them at night.
“Why can’t we just watch them out in the lobby?” You ask, turning to Mike, who was already facing you with an open mouth.
“Are you trying to get yourself hurt?” He inquires, confusion yet anger written on his face. He was such a mystery that you didn’t want to unravel. While you were curious what he meant, you didn’t pry. Maybe he’s paranoid, or delusional. What harm could come from this job? So, you continued to stare at the monitors, waiting for something to happen.
You’d glance at the clock, which read 2:15am, two hours and fifteen minutes since your shift started. You hid a yawn, but saw the look of a side eye from Mike. You look back at the monitor. You look back at the time. 2:16am. And back at the monitor. 2:19am. 2:20am.
One yawn, two yawns, and by the third, Mike was looking at you.
“I said, don’t fall asleep.” He grits. You roll your eyes and huff.
“Sorry, I’m fucking tired.” You grumble, looking at the clock. 2:21am. Jesus fucking Christ, won’t time move any faster?
“Just don’t fall asleep.” Mike repeats. Yet, there was something in his tone that seemed almost…like he was heeding a warning. But, considering how absolutely strange this guy was, you didn’t pry once again.
What a fool you were to not be curious to receive the explanation for Mike’s riddles, for maybe it wouldn’t have put you into this situation.
Mike stood up, announcing he'd be right back, before grabbing a flashlight and leaving the room. You scoot your chair closer to the desk and put your elbows on it, resting your head in your hands as you continue to watch the monitors. You stare at the one where you see the animatronics in plain view, their frozen eyes and smiles boring into yours. You look away, a little freaked out. But then you look back – and low and behold – nothing has changed. You glance at the time. 2:29am. You let out a loud groan and put your head on your forearms, resting yourself against the desk as your breath leaves you in a heavy sigh.
What a poor decision that was, for you stayed in that position for a little too long.
The fact of your body not being wired for the night shift yet, despite your caffeine consumption earlier, catered to the presence of your exhaustion. You’d usually be fast asleep by now with an early class to start the day. But even though those days were over, your body was still accustomed to falling asleep by midnight and waking up at 8am, the prime hours of your shift.
You had hoped that the copious amounts of caffeine would’ve helped you stay awake, but to no avail.
You fell asleep with your head resting against your arms which were on the desk.
Due to how tired you were and how much you were fighting sleep to begin with, it was relatively easy for slumber to overtake you. You really wished it didn’t.
You wish you were awake to see the animatronics sense the lack of eyes on the monitors, considering they begin to move. The first to walk off stage was Bonnie, followed by Chica. Freddy remained, waiting for his moment. You wish you were awake to hear the screams that came from Mike, who had only stepped away to use the bathroom, which was all the way across the pizzeria. You wish you were able to see the scheming between the animatronics when they saw Mike walk past them, oblivious to what they’re capable of.
You weren’t awake to hear his screamed curses towards you, knowing the damage you’ve caused for falling asleep. This was the first time the animatronics got as close as they were to him. Prior to this, it was only his dreams that were being disrupted by the children. But he knew he had to run. He knew he would be faster than the heavy metallic bodies, so he booked it, running in different directions to confuse them.
Then, you did wake up, but only when Mike burst through the room, unable to catch the door before it slammed against the wall, causing you to jolt up with a sharp inhale. He curses under his breath before looking around frantically, eyes landing on your sleepy state.
“You fucker!” Mike whisper-yells, pointing at you as he closes and locks the door. He scampers around to find things to barricade the door.
“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask, but he shushes you.
“Just look.” He whispers, pointing to the monitors. Your vision was still a little blurred from your fifteen minute nap, but it wasn’t hard to see the obvious…the animatronics were moving. And rapidly. To where you were.
“How the fuc–what the? Mike! What the fuck is going on?” You whisper-yell, heart racing as you look between him, the barricaded door and the monitors. Chica was roaming the halls and Bonnie was in the party area, the two of them searching.
“Where’s Freddy?” Mike whispers, a terrified expression etched across his face. You look through all the monitors once, twice, and by the third time, you don't need to look anymore. You turn to Mike as he turns to you, the two of you recognizing the sound of mechanical whirring and stomping approaching the security office.
“Under the desk…now!” Mike whispers, ushering you quickly as he climbs under with you and sits behind you.
“Why are you-” You begin, wanting to ask why he was using you as a human shield, but he quickly covered your mouth and told you to be quiet. That’s when you noticed the blood that soaked his sleeve.
You began to wonder what happened and tried to make sense of it all. How were they moving, did Mike know and why didn’t he warn you? As you think more, the angrier you become, and you want to demand answers from Mike. Just as you’re about to pry his hand off of your mouth, you both freeze at the sound of the whirring coming from right outside the door.
It’s quiet.
It’s still.
Nobody is breathing.
And then the banging begins. With every pound on the door, you and Mike jump, gasping every few times. Mike squeezed his eyes shut and subconsciously held you close to him, and you wrapped your arms around him, the two of you holding one another as a terrifying ordeal ensued.
The items used to barricade the door shake with every hit the door takes. The metal begins to dent as the urgency of the pounding grows with each passing second.
All you could think about was your life, and how you weren’t ready to go out like this, nor did you want or expect your life to be taken by a possessed animatronic. Tears well in your eyes as you think about good memories and those in your life who you won’t be able to make new ones with. You wished you had a way to tell them what was about to happen.
Mike feels his shirt grow wet where your face was pressed against, and he immediately recognized that you were crying. He understood the fear of the situation, especially because he was in it with you, so he pulled you closer and rested his chin atop your head while he trembled.
As the two of you sit there holding each other silently crying and breathing as little and quietly as possible, the pounding subsides and the whirred stomping grows faint with distance. With your heart still racing, you begin to hyperventilate.
Mike takes your hand and presses it against his chest, his racing heart not bringing much comfort.
“Breathe with me.” Mike says, taking a deep breath. You mimic his actions, and within a few moments, you’re breathing normally again. Mike looks at you with an unreadable expression, and then his eyes fall on his side.
You followed his gaze and remembered the blood that was on his sleeve, realizing the blood splotch had grown.
“Are you okay?” You ask, pointing to his arm. Without answering, Mike brings his forearm to his chest and winces, slowly rolling up his sleeve to reveal a pretty nasty gash.
“What happened?” You inquire, wanting to tend to the wound.
“It was Foxy.” He whispers, glancing at the door.
“We need to get back to the monitors.” Mike states.
“We need to clean your wound first or it may get infected. Where’s the first aid supplies?” You look around the shelves for any immediate sign of the first aid kit. When you don’t find it after a few seconds, Mike walks over to one of the shelves and uses his unwounded arm to point to it. You grab it and dig through it for necessary supplies.
Mike winces as you pour disinfectant over the wound, reteaching his arm as he grits his teeth.
“A little warning, next time?” He hisses. You roll your eyes but laugh.
“I hope there won’t be a next time. Who the hell wants this shit?” I say, referring to the torment we just endured.
“Yeah. Good point.” Mike nods, shrugging.
After a few minutes, you bandage Mike up so he’s ready to go. He thanked you while looking at the floor, standing up. He takes a peek at the monitors.
Foxy was back in pirate cove as if he didn’t try to slaughter Mike with his hook, Freddy was back on stage, Bonnie and Chica both in the kitchen. They all seemed to be waiting for their next attack.
You glance at the clock. It reads 3:26am. You turn back to Mike.
“So…can we talk about what just happened?” You muse, your curiosity and concern for your safety heightened.
Mike shrugs. “What is there to talk about?”
“Are you kidding? We almost just died. You got attacked by one of the animatronics. You insisted I don’t fall asleep, and when I did, this happened. What do you know about this place that you’re not telling me?” You raise your voice on the last part, Mike taking a few steps forward to encourage you to quiet down.
“Okay-okay, okay. You’re right. You deserve some explanations.” Mike sighs, looking off for a moment.
“We should sit down.” He motions to the chairs. You take a seat and glance at the monitors. Freddy and Foxy were still in place. Chica remained in the kitchen and Bonnie was in the party room again. You turn back to Mike awaiting his explanation.
“I…I don’t really know how to say this without sounding crazy but…as you can already see, the animatronics are, well, I guess alive. First, it started with just random sounds and glasses breaking. Initially, I thought it was someone who broke in. But as the nights went on, I realized it was something that was already in the building. That’s when I noticed Chica was missing from the stage. I was confused and found it hard to believe, but accepted it as she was in the back rooms for repairs. I didn’t think twice to ask about it.” He begins.
“And then, one night I fell asleep, and I dreamt about animatronics. Except, the dream was weird. I was here, working the shift as I am, as I was, but they came to me and had the eyes of children. That was the first weird dream. The second night I dozed off, I began to dream of a blonde boy with a striped shirt. I awoke to a sound coming from the kitchen, and again, noticed Chica was missing. That time I got up and went to the kitchen to investigate if someone had broken in, but nothing was there.” He continues.
“The third time I fell asleep, I was surprised. I had a lot of caffeine before the shift to ensure I stayed up, but I swear something in the air put me to sleep. Because I dreamt about the animatronics again, but not them in their animatronic form…I’m talking about the children.” His eyes were glued to the monitors the entire time he spoke.
“What children?” You ask, invested in everything he’s saying, occasionally checking the monitors with him.
Mike takes a deep breath and looks away for a moment, before his gaze returns to the screens.
“There were a few children that went missing here a while ago. Rumor has it that their bodies were hidden inside the animatronics. Now some believe that their spirits possess the animatronics. I believe that wholeheartedly.” Mike states.
“My god.” You breathe. Mike nods.
“I don’t know why this job is up, but I’m desperate for the money. But, after tonight, I’m not so sure about that.” Mike remarks with a slight smile. You laugh and agree with him.
“What are we going to do? How will we survive the night?” You ask.
“We hide out here, and when the shift ends at 6am…we see where they are. If they’re back in their spots, we book it out of here. If they’re still roaming then…I don’t know…” Mike sighs, rubbing his face with his hands.
You take a peek at the clock, relieved when you find the hour hand resting on the four. You only had two more hours…yet, anything could happen in two hours. So much happened in the fifteen minutes you were asleep. You swallowed hard at the thought.
“What made you choose this job?” Mike asks, it being the first time in the four hours he’s known you where he leads a conversation with a question. You smiled. He must be warming up to you.
You go on to explain your situation where you graduated but can’t find a job in your field, so you chose the security gig to make ends meet. Mike remarks how he’s in a similar position. However, he gets quiet.
“Well, it’s not entirely the same. I…don’t have a degree.” Mike frowns.
“And look at us: still working the same job.” You say, offering a smile. Mike nods, looking back to the monitors. You do the same. Freddy and Foxy remained glued to their spots, Bonnie had returned to stage and only Chica was left roaming.
“I guess you’re right. I dunno, my situation is…weird. I’m not looking for pity or anything, though.” Mike says quickly, raising his hands defensively. You nod.
“It’s okay. You can talk about why you’re here. I mean, I did. So now it’s your turn.” You say with a smile. Mike can’t help the smile that was forming on his own lips.
“Well…okay, I guess I left out some major details when explaining the dream thing to you.” Mike begins. You raise an eyebrow.
“When I was younger, my little brother Garrett was…taken.” Mike whispers, staring at the monitors.
“I have had the same dream every night since it happened. I replay the kidnapping over and over, and always wake up right before I can save him.” Mike strains, the conversation hard for him, but necessary to have to inform you.
“And when I started working here, I figured it would be an easy enough job, so I slept. The first night was the dream about the animatronics with the children’s eyes. They watched me as I ran after the car that Garrett was in. The second night the children all watched me as I ran. The second night the blonde boy approached me, but I woke up before he said anything. The third night I forced myself to go to sleep in hopes that the blonde boy had answers for me. But all they want is something. I haven’t figured out what it is.” Mike trails off.
“I have a little sister. Her name is Abby. And I am her caretaker. That’s why I work here. To make ends meet for Abby. I stay to get answers about Garrett.” He finishes, looking to the floor. A single tear streams down his face and falls to the ground with a splash, before Mike quickly wipes his cheek from the dampness.
“Mike, I…” You begin. “I’m so sorry for everything that happened to you. I can’t-” You stop yourself, wanting to find more sincere words.
“You must be in a lot of pain if you dream about it every night.” You say. Mike looks at you questioningly.
“And you’re right to feel that way. It’s a terrible thing for anyone to endure. But…you’re a lot stronger than you might think. Take it from me, an essential stranger: I see the care you have for others. You’ve cared for me this whole night though I don’t mean anything to you, though you don’t reap any benefit from protecting me. Don’t let that care fizzle. It’s inspiring.” You remark after a moment of pondering. Mike’s mouth is slightly open, a tear rolls down his cheek.
“Thank you, (Y/N). That’s…wow. Thank you.” He says. You look at the monitor, and your heart drops when you notice Foxy is gone. Mike follows your gaze and his eyes dart across the screen.
“There!” Mike points, the camera in the hallway displaying Foxy running down. He runs to the door and bangs against it, Mike and you going back under the desk, pulling the chairs in front of you so as to be hidden...
Summary: You and Adam broke up 2 weeks ago, and life has been hell. After 2 years together, how could you two have become strangers again? But what happens when Adam gets drunk and comes to your apartment begging to have you back?
Pairing: Adam Stanheight (Saw) x Male! Reader
Content Warning: cursing, marijuana use, alcohol use, violence (in reference to events from Saw I)
Requested? Yes! Thank you anon I wrote this in two hours and had so much fun doing it.
Word Count: 4.056
Author’s Note: HELLO! I sincerely apologize for my lack of writing. I got a new job that occupies me Monday-Friday from 8am-3pm, then I babysit and have college work to do, so I’ve been a busy bee! But this request gave me writing whiplash with the way I went from not being in the mood to write to suddenly being super motivated by this request, so everybody say thank you anon!
Needless to say, these last two weeks have been hell, and honestly, it was the last thing you were expecting to happen - the last turn you expected to make. But after two and a half years, you and your boyfriend, Adam, broke up. And it was bad.
You and Adam met at your local university. You were a full time student studying art education with the intention of becoming a teacher. Adam was there taking a photography class or two to get some credits for a certificate he was working towards. You both met in a photography basics class.
One night early into the semester as you were walking to your evening class, you found Adam outside of the building smoking. He had himself propped up against the wall, cigarette in between his fingers, the stick to his lips as he took a slow drag. You let your gaze linger for what was longer than normally polite, and Adam noticed that, shifting around uncomfortably as he continued to smoke.
“What? Got a problem?” Adam remarks with a tone full of attitude, the harsh demeanor of his voice throwing you off.
“What?” You say, words caught in your throat.
“Cat got your tongue? I said: "Do you have a problem?” Adam repeats, holding onto the agitated tone. He continued to smoke his cigarette.
“If by problem you mean you, then yeah. I’ve got a problem with that attitude of yours. Maybe I was gonna join you. Maybe I was gonna ask for a cigarette-” You ramble, Adam cutting you off with a scoff.
“And who the hell are you to do all that?”
You freeze, a little confused by the banter you’re having with this stranger.
“I…” You begin.
“That’s what I thought.” He scoffs, smoking more of his cigarette.
You roll your eyes and storm past Adam, walking into your class. What the fuck was that? Moments later, when he walked through your classroom door and took a seat three tables away from you, your heart stopped. You narrow your eyes and glare at him, waiting for him to look at you: but he doesn’t. He just shuffles through his bag and takes out what appears to be pictures.
“Why are you staring at me?” Adam eventually says, not yet facing you. You take this as your queue to back down and do so, sinking in your seat and huffing, mumbling stuff to yourself about how awful this night is so far.
The class begins, and you’re left sneaking glances and sharing glares with Adam as the lecture progresses. Finally, once dismissed, you stand up quickly and make your way to the door, when a body stops you from exiting. Your gaze adjusts to the face of the individual, and there he was: the smoking stranger who snapped at you, for no reason, might you add.
“Uh, excuse me. I’m trying to leave.” You say, trying to push past, but he doesn’t let you.
“Do you still want that cigarette?” He asks, the question stopping you in your tracks. You meet his gaze with a questioning look.
“What?”
“I asked if you still wanted that cigarette, you know, the one I kinda freaked out on you for?”
“Kinda freaked out?” You find yourself smiling. His stone cold expression softens at the sight of your smile, and a small one plays on his lips.
“Yeah. I’m sorry about that. I was being really rude. I’m just in…a very sensitive spot right now and don’t take kindly to certain things.” Adam expresses, alluding to something else you couldn’t quite pin.
“Well…I appreciate your apology. And yeah, I would like that cigarette. Trade one for one?” You offer, pulling out your own pack. His face lights up with a smile and a nod. The two of you then make your way out the back exit of the building to a grassy spot to sit and smoke at. The two of you get settled under a tree on the warm spring night that unfolded. You trade cigarettes, light them between your lips, and start smoking.
“So, what’s your name?” Adam breaks the silence. You turn to him with an exhale of tobacco.
“(Y/N).” You reply, taking another drag.
“I’m Adam.” He answers, extending his hand out to yours to shake. You both shake hands and continue to smoke. After a few more moments of silence, Adam speaks up again.
“Do you know who I am?” Adam inquires. You extend a look of confusion.
“What? What’s that mean?” You ask, Adam immediately sighing from what sounded like relief.
“That’s good.” He breathes, lighting another cigarette. Your confused expression doesn’t budge, and Adam analyzes that before going to speak again.
“It’s just…something happened to me that has made my presence to the public more known than I want it to be. That’s…why I got mean earlier. I thought you were staring at me because you knew who I was and you were going to say something.” Adam explains breathlessly, sounding panicked.
“Oh,” You begin, trying to find the words. “I’m sorry about whatever happened to you. I can understand why you’d be on edge.” You sympathize. Adam nods and takes another drag of his second cigarette.
“Thanks.” He replies. Silence looms once more as you ponder whether to ask Adam what happened to him. It didn’t seem like something he’d want to talk about. But you were extremely curious.
“Can I know?” The words tumble from your mouth before you’re able to stop them.
“Huh?” Adam raises an eyebrow, shoulders tensing with the question.
“You don’t have to tell me anything, but, can I know what happened to you? I’m curious.” You ask, hoping that he wouldn’t get too upset with you.
Adam takes a deep breath before speaking again.
“For some reason, (Y/N), I will tell you. I feel like I can trust you…can I? Can I trust you? Can I trust that you won’t look at me differently or try to hurt me?” He says meekly, almost afraid of the consequences of talking.
“Again, you don’t have to tell me anything, I’m just being nosy. But yes, you can trust me. I’m not going to hurt you.” You say, leaning up against the tree a little more. But Adam stands up, running a hand through his hair.
“Can we go somewhere? Somewhere safe?” Adam looks around the area, suddenly realizing how dark and eerie it all is.
You stand up with him, making sure to keep a little bit of distance so as to not overwhelm him.
“Yeah, we can. Want to go to a diner? We can grab a milkshake and fries and talk.” You suggest. At the mention of food and a safe setting, Adam visibly relaxes, nodding in agreement to the idea.
“I’d like that.” He whispers.
“Cmon, we can go to Tick Tock diner. It’s just down the road. We can walk or take my car.” You suggest. Adam ponders for a moment before answering.
“Can we take your car?”
“Follow me.” You answer, leading Adam to the parking lot where your car would be. Adam gets into the passenger side, putting his bag in his lap and buckling up. You get in the drivers side, popping in a My Chemical Romance CD before driving.
“Oh shit, I love this band.” Adam remarks once he recognizes the music.
“Me too.” You smile, focusing on the road. You spend the car ride talking about My Chemical Romance and other artists you both happen to listen to, finding another common ground to dance on. Cigarettes, music, milkshakes and fries: what a great way to bond.
After a few minutes in the car, you both arrive at the diner. You park, get out and lead him inside. The hostess gets you a table for two and hands you menus. You open it and start checking out the different milkshakes, Adam doing the same. A waiter takes your orders and menus, and you and Adam are left to wait for your food. Silence looms over the two of you as you wait for Adam to share. He looks uncomfortable.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. There’s no pressure.” You remind, trying to reassure him the best you can. He nods.
“Thank you.” He replies, taking a deep shuddered breath.
“I just…don’t even know where to start.” Adam almost whines, running his hand through his short hair nervously.
“Have you ever heard of the Jigsaw killer?”
And that’s when it all came out. Somewhere along the admission, your fries and milkshakes came, and you two ate along with the conversation. But Adam, emotional as can be, tells you what appears to be everything.
“I went back to my apartment that night to develop some photos I took. I’m a freelance photographer, and at the time, was doing a lot of sketchy gigs just to make ends meet. This one gig I was developing for: this man, a retired cop, wanted photos of a guy he was convinced was guilty of being the jigsaw killer. I didn’t know that when I said yes, I just wanted the money, so I went around taking pictures of some doctor. The next thing I know, I wake up in some bathtub in this abandoned bathroom in some abandoned building…I thought I was all alone, but that doctor I was following and taking pictures of was in there with me. We…had our ankles chained to metal pipes. We were given until 6pm to complete the game. We were to cut off our feet with saws to escape. Throughout this, fucking game, a lot went down.” Adam explains, beginning to get choked up.
“As the game neared its end,” Adam continues, tears streaming down his face. “I, the doctor shot me. That was part of the rules: kill me and escape to save his family. But somehow his family saved themselves before the end of the game. He…he still cut off his foot. He still….he still shot me thinking it would win the game. Now my shoulder is all fucked up because of it. And the worst part? I fucking…” Adam stops, a shuddered breath escaping his throat. He furiously wipes his tears and grunts, rubbing his face with his hands.
“I can’t.” He whispered, rocking himself back and forth. Your heart shattered. Here was Adam, trying to be vulnerable, but his trauma is still so fresh.
“Can I give you a hug?” You offer. Adam looks at you with confusion, but once sensing your genuineness, he nods and scoots further in his booth to make room for you. You get up, slide in the booth next to Adam and extend your arms to him. He throws himself in your embrace and sobs into your chest. Without thinking, your arms wrap around him tightly, whispering “it’s okay.” while rubbing his back and playing with his hair. He hiccups, he drools, his tears soak your hoodie as he tries to compose himself. You hold him in the diner booth, trying your best to comfort him.
“I just can’t.” Adam cries, voice muffled with his face buried in your chest.
“Just can’t what?” You whisper.
“Do this!” Adam cries out, pulling away from you to turn to the corner, turning into himself. You defy your better judgment and scoot closer to Adam, continuing to rub his back.
“Why don’t we take the food back to my apartment?” You suggest, growing worried as the diner patrons all started to sneak glances at your table. Adam nods quickly and starts to stand up. You get everything to go, pay for you and Adam and head back to your car. Adam protested your payment through his fit of tears, but you ignored him and paid anyway.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” Adam sniffles as he buckles himself in your car.
“I know.” You nod, giving him a sincere smile before driving the two of you back to your apartment. After a few minutes of driving with Adam silently crying in the passenger seat, you reach your apartment complex. You lead Adam to your building and unlock the door. You turn the lights on and invite Adam inside where he thanks you.
“Can I get another hug?” Adam asks, barely above a whisper. WIthout another word, you wrap your arms around Adam as he does the same, finding great solace in his new friend. As Adam composes himself, you continue to rub his back and tell him it’s okay. He thanks you over and over.
“Why don’t we sit down?” You offer, gesturing to the couch. Adam nods, wiping more of his tears away despite continuing to cry. You make your way to the couch where Adam sits next to you. Within a moment, his head was in your lap as he tried to control his shaky breathing with slow deep breaths. Your heart skips a little bit at the cute gesture, but you welcome it. You begin to play with his hair.
Adam was able to regain control of his breath, but only because he fell asleep. When you realized he dozed off in your lap, you smiled to yourself. You let yourself drift off despite the discomfort of sleeping sitting up.
You awoke a few hours later to Adam waking up.
“Shit, did I fall asleep?” Adam groans, rubbing his eyes and cursing to himself.
“It’s okay, Adam. If it was a problem I would have woken you up.” You answer.
“Why are you so nice to me?” Adam asks, sighing a little bit. You shrug and smile. Adam smiles back.
“What time is it?” Adam asks, looking around. His eyes fall on the clock that reads 4:32am.
“I’m not sending you home if that’s what you’re implying.” You remark, scooting a little bit closer to him. He welcomes the closeness and doesn’t move.
“Are you sure? I bet I could find my way.” Adam trails off. You shake your head and protest.
“No way dude. You’re not leaving without having breakfast with me.” You grin.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Wow, (Y/N). Thank you. I really appreciate you.” Adam sighs. He looks to the floor for a moment before lifting his head up to speak.
“Are we friends?” Adam asks quietly. You nod quickly.
“I’d like to think so.” You smile. Adam nods.
“Cool.” He breathes, sounding almost uncertain.
“Do you want to be friends?” You ask, not certain if that’s what Adam truly wanted. But his quick nod and pleading expression convinced you otherwise.
“Please. I do.” He says quickly.
You ponder for a moment before coming up with an idea.
“Adam, do you smoke weed?” You ask. Adam furs his eyebrows together but nods.
“Um, yeah? Why?”
“Want to have a 4:30am joint with me?” You smirk. Adam gasps with excitement.
“You’re kidding…”
“Follow me then.” You stand up, walking to your room where your weed was. Adam enters your room with fascination, gawking at all the cool decor and lighting you have going on.
“Cool room.” Adam says, looking at your posters and pictures of friends.
“Thanks!” You say, going to your grinder. You grind up some flower and start to roll a joint. Then, you gesture Adam to follow you, where you lead him to your balcony. You two step outside into the brisk May morning, met with the sound of waking birds and whirring cars. You light the joint, take a drag and then pass it to Adam. While smoking, the two of you make polite small talk, but focus more on the smoking. Once the joint was finished, Adam was sitting all the way back in his chair, a smile plastered to his face as he struggled to keep his eyes more than halfway open.
“Damn, that’s some good weed.” Adam giggles, you joining in. The two of you laugh at nothing, growing closer with every passing moment. It was now 5am and you were still outside together, laughing and joking about. By the time 5:30am rolled around, the munchies had set in, and you and Adam were back inside raiding your kitchen for easily accessible snacks. You make your way to the couch with your snacks and sit down together, giggling and laughing.
“This is a really fun way to start the day.” Adam remarks while opening a bag of chips.
“Agreed.” You smile, leaning into him. Adam initially tensed up when your head made contact with his shoulder, but eventually he relaxed and welcomed it. After a few seconds, he got brave and wrapped his arm around you. The gesture gave you butterflies. You turn your head to look up at Adam, only then realizing how dangerously close the two of you were, faces just mere inches apart as the pair gazes into one another’s eyes.
And without thinking, you lean in and press your lips to Adam’s. This gesture immediately causes a gasp to emit from Adam, his eyes widening in shock. But after a second, his eyes flutter shut as he purses his lips, kissing you back.
But that was two years ago. That bliss was long gone. What was once a relationship founded on vulnerability was one that crumbled on account of Adam’s fear: fear of the future, growth, change and progression. You wanted to grow and progress, and he was scared of change, and that inevitably caused your downfall, a mutual end commencing.
Now, here you were, alone on your balcony, smoking a joint while blasting Blink-182 on your stereo, wanting nothing more than to drown out the feeling of another night of missing Adam. As the days went by and you two didn’t speak, the more you wondered how something so beautiful could end so quickly. You thought it cruel that someone so special could walk into your life, creating what felt like everlasting bliss, only for it to eventually fade away. It was sinister the way you and Adam became strangers again after what was intended to be a lifelong journey of serenity. As the tears flowed and your thoughts grew rampant, you almost didn’t hear the frantic knocking at your door.
Almost.
The knocking startled you out of your depressed daze, bringing you back to your cruel reality of a life without Adam. You lowered your music and put your joint down, listening again for the knocking. And it came again, as rampant and quick as before. You were concerned and confused. You didn’t have anyone who was supposed to come over tonight. You didn’t order delivery. All the options of who could be at your door wouldn’t make sense, so where was the knocking coming from?
Evidently your door, the way it came again.
So you step inside from the balcony and make your way to the front door. Moments like this, you wished your door had a peephole.
“Who’s there?” You call out, leaning up against the door.
But there was silence.
“I…I said who’s there?” You repeat, heart pounding.
“Can we talk?” A voice emits. But that voice was like a punch to the gut, a stab to the heart: you didn’t expect it to be Adam’s voice.
Without a second thought, you’re swinging the door open as Adam tumbles inside, quite literally falling to the floor.
“Oh, fuck.” He says, rubbing his eyes as he struggles to get up.
“What the fuck, Adam? Are you drunk?” You ask, grabbing his arm to help him back to his feet.
“Mmm, maybe.” He smiles childishly, but a smile you missed nonetheless. It hurt seeing him here.
“Oh.” You frown.
“But we need to talk!” Adam whines, pouting his lower lip like a little kid. He always got ridiculously silly and babyish when he drank.
“Why, Adam? Couldn’t you just call me when you’re sober?” You say.
“Would you have answered?” Adam remarks. You hold your breath.
“That’s what I thought.” He frowns, sighing. “Look,” He begins, stumbling to the couch.
“I fucking miss you. Like, more than I could have imagined.” Adam starts, looking to the floor as he talks.
“And it’s driving me crazy. Waking up alone every morning, not being able to see or talk to you, not being able to see my favorite smile or hear the most heaven sent sounding voice scold me for getting too high or drunk on a Monday night. I miss holding you and kissing your face to wake you up. I miss complimenting you and seeing how flustered you get. I miss when you’d play with my hair. And good fucking god do I miss kissing you. I feel lost and incomplete without you, (Y/N). Please just tell me what I have to do to make this right.” Adam pleads, gazing up at you, eyes begging you to hear what he’s saying. As he spoke, all you could do was stand and listen as your heart pounds.
“Adam,” You begin with a sigh, trying to find the words.
“No, you’re not hearing me, (Y/N). I need you, I fucking need you. I’m a mess without you. You give me purpose and direction. Nothing makes sense without you.” Adam says, voice straining as he chokes back tears.
“I do hear you Adam, it’s just-”
“Please just tell me how I can fix this. Please, there has to be a way. I can’t live without you, (Y/N).” Adam continues to plead. You take a deep breath and a moment to consider everything.
Here was Adam, drunk on your couch begging to have you back. You couldn’t deny the facts: you miss each other and are finding life without one another to be hard.
So why is it so hard to let him back in?
“Please.” Adam cries, dropping from the couch to his knees.
“Anything. I’ll do anything.” Adam begs, crawling on his knees to you, taking your hands into his, where he sobs harder.
“God, I’ve missed your hands.” He cries. You allow him to hold your hands, the feeling so familiar and warm.
“Please, (Y/N). How can we fix us?”
You place your hands on either side of Adam’s face, his tears wetting your thumbs. You use your thumbs to rub circles against his cheeks, both of you not caring about the tears that plaster his face. Adam cries harder but leans into your touch. He takes one of your hands and brings it to his lips, kissing ever so softly while whispering pleads.
“Can we sit, Adam?” You ask. He nods, sniffling, getting up off his knees and moving back to the couch. He sits down and you sit next to him. Adam immediately wraps his arms around you and continues to cry.
“I’ve just missed you so much, I can’t lose you.” He sobs into your shoulder, gripping onto you tightly.
It was then where your heart shattered. Here was the love of your life, absolutely broken and wrecked without you. You thought time passing would make it easier, and while it has only been two weeks, it’s clear that the days don’t get any easier for either of you, the dusk always ending with tears and longing. You melt into Adam’s embrace, wrapping your arms back around him as the tears begin to flow from you two. You both sit there holding each other as you cry.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for everything, (Y/N). I want a future with you. I’m sorry I’ve been so scared of it. I can’t imagine this life without you, and navigating it without you these last two weeks has been hell. You’re the one for me, (Y/N). I need you, truly need you, and can’t and won’t let anyone else take your spot. You have my heart and I have yours. I wanna continue to treat it carefully. If you’ll let me. Please.” Adam conveys, resting his forehead against yours, holding your face and eye contact as he talks, making sure you know just how serious he is.
Your heart swelled from his words. All you wanted was Adam back. So you lean in and softly press your lips to his, earning a gasp from Adam. Hands still on your face, Adam holds you and pulls you closer, lips moving together in a tearful synchrony.
