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𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐓 𝐇𝐂

꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ft. mike schmidt (fnaf), mentions of Abby and Vanessa. ꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ content warnings: pet name used once in descriptive text (baby), suggestions to smut (no theres no smut im sry), very very fluffy. like incredibly fluffy ꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ a/n. i think something healed inside of me when i wrote this lmao. also, im not fully back to writing but i felt like i had enough energy. enjoy!

This might be considered a personal HC but I believe when speaking about Mike's affection styles and having intimate moments, it isn't all rough and tumble. It's something so much more than anything.

Based on his own traumas from childhood and then working with a murder case (and of course, the haunting stories of the innocent children's souls being snuffed out); I'd bargain he's an avoidant person at base but shoves through it to make it though each day. It would take a lot for someone to actually spark something in his soul and stay in there. I mean, you saw how he was with Vanessa, right?

His way of loving would be so cautious but sincere. Perhaps the right person could light up his world with Abby. Someone he might call his wife/husband one day but for now, his partner would be just fine. He would prefer their name as to any pet name, but once in while the 'ole baby might make an appearance if he's exhausted or worn down.

"I'm home. ." Mike called out softly, shutting the door behind him softly as to not wake Abby. He knew you'd be up, waiting to hear about his night and then about what he dreamt about on shift. (You know he falls asleep by accident sometimes but that's okay).

His eyes softened when he saw your sleeping form on the couch, curled up in a blanket that was supposed to be on the comfy bed. . like you were supposed to be. Mike never asked you to stay up, he encouraged you to get some rest properly so that you didn't become sleep deprived like he was. Yet, it was like chiding a cat that would swipe playfully at a wagging finger. Pointless but it warmed his heart and made it ache at the silent dedication from your end.

Mike hung up his coat and vest, taking off his shoes afterwards. The smell of chemicals and lavender filled his nostrils, signalling that you had cleaned at some point in the evening or early morning to stay awake. It seemed fruitless as there you were, breathing softly with your hands curled into your chest.

He padded over quietly and bent down to be on your level. His fingers brushed some hair from your face, tracing shapes over your cheek as he waited for you to wake up. He didn't want to shake you awake, he'd prefer you to open your eyes on your own so he could see the joy brighten your iris'. That's a thing he loved about you; your eyes and how they seemed to admire his work or how he was in general. He could be doing nothing and he'd catch you staring at him silently with a dopey grin on.

You stirred softly in your semi-conscious state, taking a sharp inhale. Limbs shifting to feel the air that came from an open window, your body took its sweet time waking up. The sun had barely been peeking over the edge of the world when he knelt before you, waiting patiently. When your eyes did flutter open, your heart jumped in happiness. He made another night without you.

A smile formed on his face as he watched you realize that fact, thumb slowing down the pattern swiping. "Good morning." Mike whispered quietly, pecking your forehead before tilting his head to meet your eyes boyishly. "Good morning to you too." You said quietly, scrunching your nose at his stinky breath. It smelled of coffee and whatever else he ate before the shift. Even then, it was blissful.

The adoring nature would bleed heavily into the bedroom, especially since he viewed it as something that shouldn't be seen as just 'relief' or something similar. He has the blessing to see you as who you are without clothes; the dimples, rolls of skin, freckles, stretch marks, tattoos. Those are things he doesn't skim over, he appreciates them with kisses and massages with calloused fingers.

It's an act that temporarily unites you physically, through sweat and fluids, kisses too. Mike isn't a sex god though, he would never harm you either. He's clumsy and nervous, scared to screw this up and cost you the out of body pleasure. He relies on your validation and guidance, hoping to understand and not just memorize what makes you twist and churn inside. If you can't experience pleasure, he will avoid his own pleasure.

Even after months, his subconscious is belittling his abilities and pours doubts into his brain. Your words help, hands too.

Mike's lips were cautious against your skin, not wanting to cause discomfort or anxiety. The fingers in his hair had told him otherwise, guiding him forward with nails massaging his scalp gently. His lips trembled on your chest, pulling away to lean his ear in the center of it to listen to your heartbeat. The thumps soothed his doubts, warmth adding to his own body temperature.

"Mike?"

He lifted his head to look up at you with mesmerized eyes. "Yeah?" He spoke softly, waiting for your words. "You okay?" You inquired playfully, brushing his messy hair from his forehead. He smiled and nodded his head, hands rubbing your sides affectionately.

Was he drunk? No. But he might as well be with the way his chest is burning with pure adoration for you.