Hey may 31th anon!! How are you doing? (´｡• ω •｡) Another year over! This year John and Sherlock are waiting for the bus in the rain rain waiting for the bus in the rain. The bus is actually not coming, which Sherlock knows. I hope you're having good weather and that your bus is coming! (♡˙︶˙♡)
I got asked what Burning Spice and Pepper Jack's relationship is like and honestly, I have a LOT to say. Like a lot. Seriously.
But that's gonna take a huge post all on its own, so take this for now. It's a crazy short and reductive portrayal of what's going on between them but it's not incorrect at all so haha
OG image under cut
I didn't save the link to the post itself, even though I thought I did 💔 so if anyone can help me find who and where this came from, I'd really appreciate it so I can link and credit properly
Fun at Work | Michael Afton x GenderNeutral!Reader | (Mild) Smut
hi there!
I just wanted to write about Michael cumming in his pants. and then it turned into this, so. there! dsfhsdjkfhs
hope you enjoy! take care! <3
summary; Michael gives you a tour at the Freddy's location he works at, and you end up making out in his office.
Minors Don't Interact, please!
contents: GenderNeutral!Reader; Established Relationship; Still Early into the Relationship; Fluff and Smut; Making Out; Dry Humping; Cumming in Pants (it all happens very quickly).
“I don’t give tours to just anybody,” Michael commented when you stopped to take a closer look at the animatronics on stage after he introduced each one by name to you.
Smiling to yourself, you responded in a light-hearted manner while staring at Bonnie’s bright green eyes, “Aw, I must be really special, then!”
There was a beat of silence.
Then, “You are.”
It was the earnestness with which Michael delivered those words that caught you off-guard.
Your relationship was still pretty fresh. You were happy with him. But that made you all the more afraid of losing him, so you constantly tried to downplay his importance to you; and even more so how you might be just as important to him. Moments like these, in which either of you acknowledged the ever strengthening bond between you and him, felt especially grave because of it.
Turning around to face him, you saw the corners of his mouth twitch ever so slightly. He wore a tight smile. Apparently, the gravity of those words wasn’t lost on him, either.
With one step, you closed the distance between you two. You raised your hand to cup his cheek in it, feeling him flinch momentarily upon your touch, but he soon leaned into your palm. The slight stubble on his cheek pricked your skin. It was a sensation you came to love in the time you’ve been with Michael.
You pressed your lips against Michael’s. It was just a peck, but you could feel him relax under your hand all the same.
“You’re just as special to me,” you told him softly.
In response to your words, Michael’s cheeks heated up. You could feel it under your palm, smiling slightly.
He cleared his throat and took a step back, while you let your arm fall back against your side, the warmth of his cheek and the feeling of his stubble pricking your skin still lingering.
“I’m not done showing you around yet,” Michael smiled, turning his back to you when he walked off the stage. He looked back at you, “Shall we?”
Giving the animatronics one last look, you followed after Michael.
He led you down the hall to Kids Cove, explaining the “take-apart, put-back-together” attraction that eventually turned Foxy into an unrecognisable mess of wrongly put together animatronic parts. When Michael talked about it, mentioning how heartless kids could be, he seemed especially emotional about it. The way he’s been talking about the pizzeria let you think that he probably spent a lot of his childhood there. Maybe he liked the activity with Foxy and hated that other children ruined it for him.
You didn’t ask about it, though. In the short time you’ve been with Michael, you learned that he quickly shut down if you asked him personal questions. It was better to just let him talk if he felt like it. He would tell you whatever he was ready to share with you, then.
At the end of the tour, you found yourself behind Michael’s desk in his office. Although, office might have been the wrong word, you thought. There weren’t even any doors. It was just a desk at the end of a long hallway that led directly into the main area of the pizzeria.
“What kind of weirdo designed this office space?” you asked jokingly, letting your eyes wander across the expanse of the hallway, vents, desk, computer, and telephone.
Michael let out a short, awkward laugh, shrugging slightly. He didn’t say anything, but you noticed that he wanted to, and that he seemed strangely nervous. If the latter was due to what he might have wanted to say or not, you couldn’t tell. It could have also been the proximity of your bodies, you mused.
He was leaning against his desk, half-sitting on top of it. You were standing between his legs, wanting to be close to him. Sometimes, when you stood as closely to him as you did then, he would soon change positions again and put some distance between you and him. It seemed to often make him uncomfortable to let you into his personal space, but that was why you cherished those other times when he wouldn’t move an inch away from you.
“Do you want me to step back?” you asked gently, just wanting to make sure that you weren’t causing him any discomfort when his moods were already so unpredictable most of the time.
Michael shook his head quickly. His hands settled on your waist, then, as though to emphasise his response.
Feeling encouraged by this, you loosely wrapped your arms around Michael’s shoulders and neck. Then, you leaned into him to peck his lips a few more times, simply enjoying the proximity and being with him. His hands tightened around your waist, keeping you close to him. Your bodies were touching; chests, bellies, and lower. You smiled against his lips, kissing him again. Michael reciprocated, keeping one hand on your waist, holding on tightly, while his other palm stroked your back. Up and down, travelling further down, until it settled on your ass.
A soft moan escaped your lips as you deepened the kiss, pushing your tongue into his mouth and eliciting a groan from him as well. Driven by the heated arousal of making out with Michael, you rubbed your crotch against his, feeling his growing erection through both of your clothes. Bucking his hips, Michael whined, grabbing onto your buttock and pushing you further against him almost desperately.
Your hands roamed over his back, up and down, to his shoulders, his neck, into his hair, where you lightly tugged on it, nipping his lower lip when he moaned before resuming the kiss. Keeping one hand in his hair, your other palm settled on his hip, stroking and squeezing, all while you continued rubbing your crotch against his. The movement of his hips became more erratic, more desperate.
Until, just a few moments later, he stilled completely.
His moans came out staccato. He was panting. You could feel his chest rise and fall in quick succession. And you could feel him twitch against you ever so slightly, holding tightly onto you, like you were his lifeline.
Breaking the kiss, you leaned back just enough to get a good look at Michael. His eyes were squeezed shut and his cheeks have taken on a deep red tint.
Soothingly, you combed your fingers through his hair. You took a step back from him, staying between his legs, but your bodies weren’t touching anywhere except for where your hands were still holding onto each other. Arousal continued to course through your body like a wildfire; Michael’s quick orgasm was like an accelerant to it. Nonetheless, you decided that you would wait.
You took a steadying breath, feeling overwhelmed. “You should probably clean yourself up,” you suggested gently to Michael, “or you’ll feel uncomfortable for the rest of your shift,” you added light-heartedly.
Michael opened his eyes to look at you when you started talking. Shame and embarrassment was written all over his face.
In response, you gave him a warm smile, “Don’t worry about it, okay? I thought it was really hot, actually.”
For a long moment, Michael just stared at you, seemingly trying to gauge if you were being honest. He visibly relaxed once he seemed to find what he was looking for in you. His shoulders slumped and he let out a soft sigh, which turned into another short, awkward laugh.
Letting go of you, Michael adjusted his jeans, grimacing as he did. “I’ll be right back,” he murmured and hurried down the hallway to the bathroom.
With a small smile on your lips, you watched him go, the increasingly familiar warmth spreading in your chest whenever you allowed yourself to simply enjoy those growing feelings you had for Michael. You could certainly get used to this.
