being an x reader writer and trying to be inclusive of all readers makes me overthink so much like should i write about you having smth with milk in it? no no what if the reader is lactose-intolerant. about the reader being the big spoon? noo what if they wanna be cuddled like a little spoon. about fingers through your hair? noooo what if the person reading it is bald
NSFW CONTENT: bondage, gagging, creampie, solo male mastrubation, male whimper audio (hehe) mask kink (Ghostface~), threesome, nipple sucking/nipple play, face sitting
Tied and gagged, turning you into his own personal sex doll. You had no choice but to fully surrender yourself to him-submitting to his rock hard cock mercilessly ramming into you.
He BEGGED you to sit on his face, wanting you to dominate him this time. except it didn't take a lot of convincing to put your whole weight on him using his mouth like a fucking chair.
ghostface szn, it's almost halloween, nothing more better then getting a little festive during spookiest and freakiest time of the month~
"Your body weight is my warm up weight when I work out~" You were really insecure about your body, you told your bf about it and he wanted to show you how much he really appreciates you! <3
"2 bad bitches at the same damn time!" You saw a really hot guy at a college party...but it seemed like his friend was also interested in you that night. well, 2 Is always better then 1 right?~
You should have known better than to tease him. Sometimes a brat just needs to be tied up and put in their place, and it seemed like he needed to give you a reminder that he was the only one who could make your pussy feel like this.
you NEEDED him to cum inside you, no birth control, no pill, not a single barrier between his cock, cum and your waiting pussy. You needed to feel his hot cum marking your insides.
what he sends you while he's away. When you're away from him for too long he physically cant keep his hands away from himself so he sends you a video to show you exactly how much he misses you <3
your boobs were his favourite body part of yours. it didn't matter how big or small, his favourite way to unwind was by gently sucking on your sweet, succulent, sensitive nipples like a lil baby~
can everyone please stop tagging movie Mike Schmidt fan fics as Michael Afton. I'm looking for game Michael Afton not movie Mike Schmidt. (I do adore both though)
Also with FNAF 2, also separate movie and game Michael Afton!
SEPARATE THE TWO MICHAEL AFTONS THEY ARE SO DIFFERENT!
Please reblog!
If this post ever gets to 1k, I'll write a game! michael afton fic myself
100% there! I'm working on it! Tell me if you'd like to be tagged! BTW my bestie who's a simp for game michael is deciding exactly what I write so oh boy
Oh my fucking god, how hard is it to use flushed cheeks instead of blushed cheeks in fanfiction. No, they didn't develop a dusting of light pink. No, I didn't turn red. I'M FUCKING BLACK.
I don't mean to be rude, but I don't know how many times dark readers of color have to make posts like this, dude. Physical descriptions, dynamics with hair...come on.
I've seen it in way too many times now, and I'm going to start calling it out every time I see it in fanfiction. There are no more excuses. It can't be x reader if it only applies to those of lighter complexions.
And for writers of smaus or text fiction, or even those making headers: If you have pictures in them, why do they only ever have white or extremely pale women in those with pictures, unless they are especially made for black people or another specific group?
Use general headers with photos that don't include people for your content. Try to use *image insert* if the reader is sending something made to include a picture of them.
Make it general!! It's for a general audience!!
I get it, nine times out of ten, you're imagining yourself in these scenarios and then writing them. So if you're someone who is lighter, it's easy to have slip ups. BUT, it's not difficult whatsoever to make general content.
Because, let me tell you, it sucks as a POC to look at content and think, "Oh well, this wasn't made with people who look like me in mind, and it's obvious."
We're not asking for anything big. So stop making us beg for it.
Hi, hi! I just saw your michael afton fic and I'm so glad theres someone out here taking reqs for Mike! I would like to make one if you dont mind,
I'm thinking of a scenario with Mike where you met him when he was in high school and had feelings for him until Elizabeth's death/Bite of 83 when you moved away and seemingly forgot about him, only to for it to return as you meet him again as adults in FNAF 3 where he's working in Fazbear's Frights and trying to stop his dad to make up for himself (And also he never got scooped cause it makes me too sad, maybe he escaped with ennard or smth?)
Until I Found You Again
Pairing. bully!newkid!mike x popular!gn!reader
Warnings/Tags.slight angst, slight bullying, set in the 80s, enemies to friends to lovers, swearing
Words.5,312
A/N.Hello anoie! ahh thank you for reading it! i had so much fun writing it! ^^ theres not too many people on here who write for mike but im glad to be among the few who do! this ended up sooo much longer than expected but the thought of teen mike x reader started plaguing my mind
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April 21st, 1983
You're 15 and currently attending Hurricane High, located in none other than the little town of Hurricane, Utah, as if it couldn't be any more obvious. This year was the same as the previous one—a few new faces, but none of them really stood out until May 10th rolled around. A new boy had transferred to your school. He looked like one of those kids your parents had warned you about when you first started middle school. He was rather shy for the first few days. You thought he just needed time to adjust, maybe needed a new friend to break him out of his shell.
You got along with most people in your school. Making a new face comfortable wouldn't hurt, right?
Once the bell rang, you walked up to the boy, your eyes accidentally falling onto his wrists. The sleeves of his hoodie were rolled up just enough to show off a nice, dark, and painful bruise. He quickly noticed and hid his hands in his pockets.
“Hi, I'm—”
“Not interested.” He stands, grabs his backpack, and leaves with the other kids. You watched as he left. “Jerk…” you muttered under your breath, making your way back to your desk and grabbing your bag.
Different day, same routine. Place your belongings into your locker, then head to the loud and overly crowded cafeteria that smelled of sweat and food you were sure was slowly poisoning the students.
Somewhere within the sea of merged voices, you heard someone call your name.
“Over here!” One of your friends waves you over, scooting herself to the side and patting the seat next to her.
Quickly you rush over and slide into the seat and place your tray onto the table. “Did you hear what happened?” Damien, who sat across from you, asked with his mouth full. You shook your head. Both of them lean in closer. Confused, you do the same. It's not like anyone could really hear you three anyway.
“There's a new kid.” Jasmine states, Your brows furrow as you look between the two.
“There are tons of new kids, Jas,” you reply, poking at the mysterious glob of green pasta that you were served. In the corner of your eye, you see Mike, seated with a group of other kids. He picks at his food. Clearly he was just there, existing, not a part of the group of boys who were talking about god knows what. Mike seemed annoyed.
“There’s always a new kid. Be specific!” You add before taking a bite of the pasta.
Jasmine sighs, and Damien shakes his head. “We mean the new new kid, the one who just transferred, Mike.”
“He’s got a funny accent, and he’s pretty mean.” Damien finishes, you nod and tsk.
“We had a run-in. I can confirm he’s mean... and British.”
“No way!” they say in unison, leaning closer.
“W-what? Why is that a big deal?” You asked, growing worried now that you might’ve gotten yourself involved in something unknowingly.
“He got into a fight after first period.” Damien whispers; you could barely hear him but were still able to make out enough.
“What does this have to do with me?” You ask, confused why this was being discussed randomly and why you haven’t heard of anything until now.
“Nothing, nothing,” Jasmine says, fixing herself to sit normally in her seat.
“Just a warning, don’t think we didn’t see your eyes glancing in his direction.” Jasmine coos as if she were onto something. But she was reaching for something that wasn't there. Mike was only nice to look at when he wasn't talking...
You barely knew him but still couldn't help but glance and think of ways to get under his skin...
Mike's eyes find yours, making you flinch. It took you a minute to register he was actually looking at you. Rolling your eyes and glancing away, albeit a bit late, but he got the memo.
All was well until Damien pointed to your face and said.
"Aw, your face is flushed!"
Well fuck.
May 18th, 1983
Mike had made a reputation for himself in school, on the opposite end from where you stood and more blunt with his words and actions. He was rebellious and loud but carried himself in a manner that screamed, ‘I’m here.’ Much different than the aura you gave off. Yours was gentle yet still intimidating. His was harsh, demanding all eyes to be on him. No matter what way people looked at him, he was still seen.
Honestly, if anyone looked at you the way others look at him, you might die right then and there.
After your first encounter with Mike, you’ve kept your distance. He was another person who occasionally found himself within your world.
‘He needn't your concern,’ as Jasmine would say. And she was right, until today.
“For this project you’ll each be assigned partners.” Mrs. Clayton rises from her chair, a clipboard in hand, you begin to fear the worst.
Please let us pick. Please let us pick. You chanted in your mind, you always made sure to pick someone you’d work effectively with, but as luck would have it, that wasn't the case today.
Mrs. Clayton began reading off the students that would be paired together for the project.
As you were lost praying to whoever might be listening, you hadn't realized your name had been called until she knocked on your desk.
“Did you hear me?”
“I’m sorry, who did you say I was paired with?”
Dread begins to set in as she points to the back of the class. Your head turns, and your eyes fall onto none other than the class commotion, Mike.
“O-oh...” was all you were able to say. She hands you your project guide as you slide into your seat.
The bell rang, and just like clockwork, everyone began to rise from their seats. You were still packing up your things. You always waited so you didn't need to deal with others shoving you. Finally, once the class was empty, you swung your backpack over your shoulder and slid out of your desk. With your eyes on the floor, your body walks into something, making you stumble back.
“Use your eyes!”
“Maybe don’t stand in the way!” You retort, finally looking up. It was none other than Mike. He looked pissed as usual. Little did he know you could be just as mean when provoked.
“People will think we’re friends. I have a reputation to maintain… Mitch.” You smirk, purposefully getting his name wrong; his lip twitches. Your eyes fell to his lips. You hadn't noticed it before, but there was a small cut on his top lip. Quickly you look away.
“Look, my dad threatened to send me to live with my grandparents if I don't graduate. You're doing this project with me, and we’re going to your place.” He was stern, but his voice sounded…off? You knew he had an accent, and a prominent one at that. His voice sounded like he had something in the back of his throat, trying to put on his best American accent.
“Why my place?”
“Our place is…”
“Is?”
“My dad is renovating it, so it’s not the best place to be for now… dust and shit.” When he swore, it sounded forced, like he was just learning how to talk. You snickered and rolled your eyes. There wasn't much you could do to worm your way out of this situation anyway.
“Fine, my place it is.” You reach the door, then turn around. Mike was a bit too close for comfort, if he was any taller you probably would’ve been intimidated.
“Also, some rules,” you begin, placing the tip of your finger onto Mike’s chest and pushing him away, earning a tsk from him.
“Don't dress like… that at my place.” You motion to his clothes. They weren't exactly bad, but you wanted to stir the pot.
“And two, we’re not friends. So if we get assigned to a project again, consider it a favor. Alright?”
Mike held back with everything he had. He needed to pass, so for now, he would groan and take some of your attitude. Once this was over, he was going to return your treatment tenfold.
The week came and went. Saturday was just beginning. Usually you’d be out with Jasmine and Damien, but today you were trapped at home, waiting for Mike to arrive.
You had your study material ready and laid out on your desk and had pop music softly playing in the background. Then suddenly, your nerves started acting up. You weren't exactly sure why, it was just mike… he wasn't worth the mental turmoil yet here he was, plaguing your mind with his stupid voice and face, maybe you were losing it because you couldn't sworn you just heard his voice.
“Please don't puke.”
You spin around towards the familiar voice. There stood Mike by your doorway. Okay, maybe you weren't that delusional. Mike was dressed differently from usual. His long hair was brushed out and fluffed. It moved with even the tiniest of movements. And his clothing choice didn't make you question whether or not he got dressed in the dark.
He was actually nice to look at…
He raises a brow, his cheeks had a slight flush to them, he turns away but finds his reflection in the mirror, making his face flush even more. He wasn't sure why he was nervous either. Mike places his hands in his pockets and clears his throat.
“Stole some clothes, I hope they’re decent enough for your superficial tastes...”
You scoff with an insult on your tongue that was ready to fire, but instead you held back and nodded, even his shoes were different and for once and they were properly laced.
“You look… not like you and somewhat satisfactory.” You did your best to find the right words without saying, 'You look good.' you motioning for him to sit on the chair, right of your desk.
He takes a seat, his eyes bounce around your room, it was like taking a step into your mind, opening up a part of yourself even if it was reluctant.
He takes note of the posters on your wall. He didn't seem to notice when you took a seat on his left.
“Hey weirdo are you still with us?” You ask, snapping your fingers in his face. Mike rolls his eyes in annoyance and says.
“You listen to 'The Rolling Stones'?” Mike points to the poster of the band. There was a slight hint of curiosity in his voice. You weren't expecting him to be so nosey but then again, none of your friends really cared much for the rock bands you listen to, this was probably your only chance to be able to indulge and share your common tastes in music with someone… even if that someone happens to be the schools wannabe bully.
“I listen to them, they're pretty rad!” you eye him suspiciously before asking. “What about 'Kiss'?”
“Dude I fucking LOVE kiss! And 'The police'.” Mike was practically vibrating in the chair from excitement and so were you.
“'The police'? Never heard of them.”
“Oh they’re another English band. I used to listen to them all the time with my friends back in Nottingham.”
“Ah, so that’s where the accent's from.” You reply, playfully wiggling your finger at him before quickly pulling it back, clearing your throat. Mike let out a breathy laugh, catching him by surprise.
“To be fair, my family moved around a lot until we ended up here. My accent was stronger as a child.”
You snicker.
“Stronger? Good thing you’re somewhat intelligible now.” You joked. Mike didn't expect you to be as quick witted as he was, but he enjoyed the challenge from someone other than his insufferable father. You two were about to continue your banter until a knock on the door startled you both.
“I don't hear much studying happening.” Your mother stands at the doorway, arms crossed. Mike went quiet, like he was trying to become invisible in his seat.
“Don't worry mom were just getting the giggles out.” you smiled at her. Your mother eyed you then Mike then left with a smirk on her face.
Whatever that was about.
May 27th, 1983
You and Mike have grown close, but not too close to raise eyebrows. At least that's what you thought. You two agreed to keep things subtle to not disturb the peace within your social circles. Ever since the school week started, you’ve seen students give you odd glances or whisper about you when you walk down the halls. It was common to have people speak about you. You were the most popular student in hurricane high after all, expect this was different, it didn't take a genius to figure that much out.
And just like clockwork, there was Mike, shoving and laughing with his friends. Until he spotted you. You flash him a smile before rushing to your locker. Mike was already hot on your trail.
He tried so hard to be cool that he almost tripped trying to lean on the locker next to yours.
You pay no mind to him as you gather your belongings.
“Aren't your friends waiting for you?” You say a bit dryly, trying to ignore his annoying presence.
“I thought we were?” Mikes voice softens slightly, feigning hurt. You close your locker, turning to face mike your eyes fall onto a brown bag, from what looks like to be a record place.
“I guess I’ll return this then, I don't even buy things for those freaks.” Mike nods in the direction where his friends had gone. You were going to say something but stopped. Your brows raise after realizing what he said.
“Hold on, bought?” You repeat, taken a back. This wasn't like Mike to just buy items.
“I thought you always got a five finger discount.” hesitantly taking the bag, you open it, expecting it to be some gag gift.
“Well, you can't really steal at a record place.” Mike crosses his arms and peers down the hall, stealing some glances at your face. He still wanted to see your reaction.
“No way! You bought me their record!” You bounced on your heels as you held the record from the band Mike mentioned, ‘The Police.’ Mike really went out of his way just to get you something you were too scared to share with anyone else.
Then the stares came, you felt everyone's eyes on you and quickly went into hiding.
Placing the album back into the bag and quickly storing it away in your locker you turn to Mike once again, now with a smile still plastered on your face.
“T-thanks Mike.” There it was again, the small flush on his face.
Annoyingly adorable.
“Do you think… I can come over your place during summer break so we can listen to it together?”
“Uh, sure?”
“Only cause our record player broke and I want to listen to music.” He quickly added, trying to cover up his intentions.
You roll your eyes, was he really pulling this?
“I said yes, now come on, we need to present the project today.”
You begin to walk to class, Mike quickly finding his way by your side, your hands just brushing against each other.
“When would you like to come over?” you ask, eyes glued ahead.
“June 15th, maybe? My little brother’s birthday is the 14th, and my old man wants me to babysit him while he works on his stupid animatronics.” Mike spat the last part bitterly. You sense there was some tension there. It was beginning to make sense now why he was keen on going to your place.
“Animatronics?” you ask, your gaze shifting to him.
“My father is one of the owners of Freddy's.” Mike says, almost humiliated by it, he wasn't expecting you to be so excited about it.
“Freddy’s?! Oh man, that place is all the buzz now! I haven't had the chance to go yet.” You beamed, hoping he'll take you.
Mike smiles, placing a hand on your shoulder. He leans into your ear. You flinch, trying to pull away but instead he gently holds your face in place. His breath was hot against your skin, giving you goosebumps at how it tickled you.
“Don't.”
Was all he said before leaving you flustered in the hall before class.
June 15th, 1983.
You waited for Mike all day, the record still in its package. You wanted to open it with him but as the day came to a close, you choose to listen to it alone in bed. What did you even expect from a guy like Mike?
After that day, you did what you could to distance yourself from him, and so did your parents. One night they were silently talking about themselves, and Mike's name was brought up a few times. You never knew why. Then Freddy's and something about a death. It was hard to make out much through your door. You knew Mike had violent tendencies, seen them first hand, but never did you think he had the capability to kill. What were they keeping from you?
Not long later your parents packed up, sold the house and moved you away to California to finish school before you could say your goodbyes and maybe even see Mike. Eventually you met new friends, feelings for new people, and found new interests.
Mike wasn't even a thought anymore.
As an adult now, you move back to your childhood home in Hurricane Utah. It’s been through many changes, your old room had lost all its charm that screamed it was yours and yours alone.
Everything ends up fading over time whether we want it to or not.
Trying to become reacquainted with your old life, you decide to take a walk in the plaza you and your friends used to ditch school in.
The summer sun beamed on your skin. Maybe it wasn't the best idea moving back to Utah in the middle of summer. You forgot how bad the heat could get.
So many old memories come rushing in. you find yourself in front of one of the old stores you used to spend time in, but just as you reached for the handle someone calls your name.
The voice was oddly familiar, turning around there stood none other than Michael Afton himself. The man you ended up falling for in high school.
He wore a security uniform that had more wrinkles than a sphinx cat. His face had changed so much, his once soft boyish features have became sharper, and his long hair that he once took pride in was now half of the length it once was.
He stands, staring at you trying to figure out whether he accidently mixed up a stranger for you. But once you spoke, those doubts were instantly crushed.
“Mike?” you asked softly, closing the gap between you. He opens his arms and pulls you tightly into a hug, you didn't hug him back, instead you just stood their, arms by your side before pulling away.
Mike looked at you confused and slightly hurt. This wasn't how he expected this reunion to go.
“You left me without a word!” There it was, the words you’ve been dying to get out. Mikes shoulders slump, letting out a pained breath before speaking.
“Can we talk… please?” Mike tries to reach for your hand, but you pulled away, turning your face.
“I'm not sure, can you even do that?” You begin, crossing your arms. “Or will you just ditch me again?”
Mike shakes his head, it was all his fault after all, he could deal with his father hating him, his brother, hell his entire family. But not you.
“Just give me a chance to explain, I didn't leave you on purpose.” There was desperation in his voice that he tried to contain. He places his hand in his pockets, anxiously waiting your answer. Mike wasn't the type of guy to give up so easily— no, that was the mike you knew from high school.
The mike you knew doesn't often ask, he would take, destroy, then when he got his way, find something else to repeat the cycle with. That was a boy who was scared and tried to cling onto anything until he felt like he was loosing control.
That was the Mike you knew, this Mike was a stranger in your eyes.
“Fine…” your voice came out weakly, mike lifts his head, moving in closer to hear you. “Fine, we can discuss whatever it was that happened. But I expect the truth.” Mike gave a hesitated nod. He looked exhausted. Dark circles under his eyes, chapped lips, his skin lighter than you remember. Life hasn't been as kind to him as its been you.
“Maybe this time we can go to my place?” You tilt your head, you buried the memories of him so deeply into your mind that you had to dig to try to understand what past event he was referring to.
“The renovations were finally finished.” he tries to joke, and luckily, it hits... kind of. You softly laugh, finally remembering what he was talking about. His pathetic reason he gave to why you couldn't go to his place at the time.
“Your place.” You reply with a nod.
“At 7pm.”
“Tonight?” You tilt your head, all this was so sudden.
“I don't work tonight.” He replies, mentally praying you’d agree. You thought about it for a second. It might be a while before you can find time to speak to mike.
“Deal.”
Mikes house wasn't anything grand unlike the one you had grown up in. it was only him for the most part and didn't need more than what he has now.
Mike rushes to the door as soon as he heard the doorbell, wasting no time opening it.
“You made it!” He exclaimed, a part of him was wondering if you’d actually show up or not, he felt a twinge of guilt for doubting you.
“No need to shout I'm right here.” You roll your eyes with a playful smirk as you step in. He could see that you’ve changed quite a bit as well, but beneath the small front you were putting up was someone who wanted to jump on Mike, to hold him in a tight embrace. You wanted to yell at him, tell him you were hurt, ask questions that he himself probably didn't even had the answers to.
Mike shuts the door and leads you to the small living room that had one couch, next to it was a chair from the dining room. You eye the set up then glance at him.
“I don't get many guests…” Mike rubs the back of his head before leading you to the couch and plopping himself onto the chair.
“Promise me what I tell you will stay between us?” Mike leans forward, like there was someone else listening in on the conversation and he didn't want them to hear.
“Is it that serious?” You ask, leaning back into the couch growing uncomfortable at the sudden closeness.
“I'm giving you a choice. If you say no, then you can leave and we can pretend this never happened. But if you say yes,” then you’re entering the hell my father created, willingly. Was what he wanted to say, but bit his tongue, he wanted you to have the choice without any prejudice.
“Yes, I promise whatever it is will stay between us.” With that, Mike moves away from your face, there was so much to tell you, so much to catch you up on, he became lost in his mind, trying to understand where it all started and how to became like this. Honestly, it all happened to fast he didn't have time to stop and process t.
So, he started with the thing he remembers vividly.
“My brother died because of me.” Mike looked like he was confessing to a crime, maybe this was his first time saying it outload and the reality hit him like a truck. His shoulders trembled. He couldn't continue, needed a moment to compose himself before he broke.
You carefully place a hand on top of his, your thumb stroking his knuckles. Mike places his other hand onto of yours, giving it a slight squeeze.
The comfort allowed him to continue.
“It was my fault, he died on his birthday because of me. I was a fucking dick and wanted to be cool around my friends. I was pissed my father made be watch him when i wanted to hangout with my friends. So i lifted him into...” he pauses, wiping away the tears, taking a breath before he continued. “Into the animatronics mouth but I didn't know it’s hinges would’ve snapped! It’s all my fault… all my fault.”
Tears stream down Mikes face. He was a wreck, you’ve never thought you’d see him like this, in shambles. You wondered how many years of grief he carried alone, how many people he’s pushed away because of what he did. Then it hit you. The day your parents were being secretive and suddenly moved away from hurricane. It wasn't because of better education, it was because they knew what happened. Now the murmurs of Mike, Freddy's and death all started to make sense.
“Then my parents made us move away. I wasn't able to contact you, I wasn't able to be there for you. I'm so sorry mike.”
Mike begins to fall forward slowly until he was a sobbing mess on the floor. You slide off the couch and held him as he sobbed in your arms. He kept apologizing for ruining your shirt, you didn't care, it was a shirt, it was replaceable, he wasn't. He was a human with trauma, regrets, and grief.
He explains what he can through his sobs, his fathers murders, the death of his sister, friends and how he’s been trying to right the sins of his father. It didn't make sense to you, it didn't feel real, everything he was saying sounded like it was something out of a movie and he was the starring role.
It was getting darker outside, you don't know how long you were on the floor for. Mikes sobs became choked as he ran out of tears to cry. His red puffy eyes finally met yours. He cradles your face in his hands and gently strokes your cheeks with his thumbs.
“You can still leave, pretend you never heard anything and continue life like normal. You don't need to stay for me.” his voice was strained, your heartache at how stripped and vulnerable he was. Mike wipes away at stray tears that fell from your eyes, leaning into his gentle touch, the hands that once destroyed, that killed, now were being used to hold and love.
If only he could see himself the way you see him.
“No…” You shake your head, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on his salty lips. Pulling away Mikes brows furrow, his glossy eyes searching yours, trying to find an answer to your actions.
“I'm right where I want to be, with you. Let me love you the way deserve, Mike.” There was pregnant pause, Mikes eyes were locked on yours, you could see all the pain and gried that he kept hidden within them.
Before you could say more, there was a strange sound coming from what you assume to be the closet. Mike scatters to his feet, pulling you up with him.
“Mike?” You clung onto the back of his shirt, afraid. Mike however was the opposite.
“I’d like you to meet someone.” He gently prys you off of his back, planting a kiss on your temple before heading towards the closet.
Opening the door, you find yourself starring into a dark abyss, white glowing eyes peering at you through the darkness.
“I’d like you to meet my uh… sister or at least the part of her.” A terrifying amalgamation of wires and metal reveals itself from the dark closet, his face moves, opening and closing slightly only adding to your fear.
“Liz, this is… The one I told you about.”
You began to fell lightheaded as the thing—his sister, took another step closer. Your face began to pale.
“The doors still—”
“No, I'm not leaving you Mike, now this is a US issue and I refuse to let you deal with this shit alone AGAIN!” you didn't mean to shout, but you were growing tired of mike trying to protect you after allowing you in to his terrifying world. You were set on your decision, and were going to stand by it, no matter how hard he wanted to protect you.
“Now tell me mike.” you take a step towards him, stopping just an inch away. now you were giving him the chance to choose.
“How can we stop William and put this nightmare to rest?” Mike wasn't expecting you to be so willing to jump right in, hell he wasn't expecting you to help him at all, it wasn't something he even alluded to. he just wanted to be honest with you, give you the truth you deserve. never once did he have anyone so fiercely ready to help him before.
“I have a plan, but it needs to be executed with caution and presession.” He explains, you hum in response.
“But—” You stopped yourself, Mike walked away, then stopped in front of a record player.
“what are you doing?” You glance towards the animatronic then quickly shuffle your way towards Mike, let out something that was between and chuckle and a choked sob.
“Something that we never had the chance to do.” He takes out an album from a worn-out cover, despite being in bad shape you could still make out the remnants of the photo.
"Terrible timing I apologize." he says as he places the record onto the record slot.
“Is that…”
“Yes! We never got a chance to listen together.” He says softly. You remember the day he ditched you, how you listened to the album once when hid it away god knows where.
The first song begins to play and Mike begins to sing along in a broke, strained voice. You wondered what he would’ve looked like that day, his long hair wildly swaying with each head bang, each jump. This felt more real and raw then what it could've been and to be honest, maybe it was better. Mike pulls you in to dance around with him as the amalgamation watched from the corner. His grief was now replaced by the happiness you two shared in the moment.
even if it was temporary, he’d hold onto this moment and to you for as long and this cursed world would allow him to.
