BrOKen (Mike Schmidt X Runaway!Reader) FNAF

Night 1

(Your P.O.V)

We walked into the pizzeria at 11:55, making our way to the office. Mike sat in the chair while I stood behind him. The clock struck 12 and our shift began, with Mike in cameras and me on doors. The phone started ringing and the message played out, lasting until around 3:00. Seriously, that phone dude can talk. Mike told me to check the lights. Nothing.

"Time?"

"4:30"

"Power?"

"Around 70%"

"Exact figures, Mike"

"68%"

"Thank you"

We continued on like that until our shift ended. Bonnie had only tried to get us once but according to Mike, tonight would be harder. After the 6 am bell had rang, Mike stopped me on the way out. "Hey, (y/n)?" He asked. "Aye?" I returned, turning to face him. "Um. Do you have anywhere to go? As in, a house?" He asked slowly. I had forgotten about that. "Uh. Well....no... I hadn't thought that far when I ran awa- moved here!" I covered up the whole 'run-away' thing. "Saved it!" I heard Vincent yell. Mike rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I-if you wanted, you could always *ahem* stay...with...me?" His voice squeaked at the end of the sentence, which was so freakin' adorable. "Sure, if it's no problem with you?" I asked, heat creeping up my neck. "I wouldn't be asking if it was." He smiled. Wait WHAT? Mike Schmidt, the asshole is smiling at me? STOP THE FUCKING PRESS, MOM GET THE CAMERA. So after I started freaking out about him smiling, we walked to his car and got in. For once, we didn't sit in silence as we began talking about whether the Illuminati was real

(Mike's P.O.V)

We started talking in the car and got into a heated debate about the Illuminati for god knows what reason. I parked the car and unlocked the door, still debating over it. "The Illuminati is behind Fuckboys, I know it!" I yelled as I slumped onto the couch. "As much as I'd like to believe that, you have no solid proof." She said, making coffee. "Yeah I do! The Illuminati eye is the same as Freddy's!" I said. "Psht no." She said, handing me the coffee.

(Your. P.O.V)

Seriously, I think Mike's high. He's squeaking at the end of his sentences and giggling like a kid. Even though it's adorable, he's definitely hyper. "So, sleeping arrangements?" I asked, sipping the coffee. I suddenly think that giving him coffee was not a good idea. "You can have the bed, I'll take the couch." Mike shrugged, sipping his coffee and looking at me. "Nah, It's your house so you get the bed." I also sipped my coffee, bringing my knees up to my chest as I cradled the cup.

"No, you get the bed." Mike sat up

"No, you get the bed" I did the same

"No, you get it."

"Nuh uh, you get it"

"I will fight you for this fucking couch"

"Yeah, and I'll win the fight for the couch."

"Considering I'm taller and stronger than you, I'll win"

"Wanna bet on that, fluffy hair?"

"OI!"

In the end (Vincent: It doesn't even matter! Me: Stahp, the feels are too much) after a lot of grumbling and digging my heels in, I got the bed. He lent me one of his shirts to sleep in until I could buy some clothes at the weekend. Though, the weekend seemed years away.

4 nights to go