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megwritesriddles · 1 month ago

Text

Call Me (Anytime!) ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 17 - Sexting/Phone sex. Reader and Mike only ever text about work but they both want to change that. Once they do, things escalate very fast and Mike can only hope to keep his head.

Tags: Sexting, Phone sex, Masturbation (f and m), Dirty talk, Flirting, Coworkers, Friends to lovers, Developing relationship, Not canon complaint (no evil animatronics).

Word count: 2.6k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Your texts are purple, Mike's are blue!! Yes, I switched this around with my Spencer fic because I needed more time on it, sorry!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

PART 2 HERE !!

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You had his number purely for work reasons. To let each other know when you were running late or calling off sick. A mutual agreement, to make sure neither of you came to work one day and had two people’s jobs sprung on you unannounced. A show of worker solidarity. Texts were few and far between, especially because you saw each other almost daily, but mostly because there wasn’t much to talk about.

“Hey, problems with Abby’s sitter, running ten mins late. Cover for me,”

“Off sick today with the flu! Hope you didn’t get it from me yesterday! Cya!”

“I got the flu from you. Now it’s my turn to take a few days off. Thanks,”

“Did you see they are changing our insurance provider?”

“Cheapskates,”

“Tell me about it!”

The conversation was never about anything but work, occasionally you heard a little about his sister Abby, but only if it was in some way related to him needing to miss work. You liked Mike a lot, you had fun working with him. Although your job was to watch the monitors in the office and his to patrol the building, you saw a lot of one another. He stopped by the security office much more than was strictly necessary, but no one was there to chase you up about it. As long as he could still respond to a threat (not that any ever came), you were fine. He was not very talkative, but would still hang around in the doorway of the office, expecting you to speak to him. So you did, and he listened well, whatever it was you landed on. Sometimes you liked to gossip with him since you had no mutual friends and he couldn’t spread the word. He pretended not to care about the drama you provided him with, but would always subtly try to enquire more about it. He didn’t have much going on in his own life. Or rather, he had a whole lot going on, which meant he had time for nothing else. Working nights and taking care of Abby took up all his time, and he’d always been a bit of an introvert, so socialising had fallen to the wayside for several years now. Living vicariously through the stories of your friends' love lives was fun for him, as much as he loathed to admit it. He was grateful for you, that you were kind and willing to talk to him while on shift, even if he was a bad conversationalist. He considered you a friend, perhaps his best one, even though he knew he was far from the same thing to you. He was your coworker, considered a friend if he was very lucky. Unbeknownst to him, you did truly consider him a friend, even if you weren’t quite in the desperate position he was.

Every time you picked up your phone, you debated texting him about something not work-related. You talked about plenty more than just work at work, so why did this seem like such an impossible boundary to cross? You’d always thought he was cute, from the moment you’d started working together and from all the information you’d gleaned from him over time at work, you knew he was a lonely guy. You were sure he would want your friendship and maybe even more than that, but the transition seemed impossible somehow. You wanted him to feel less lonely, whether through friendship or more. So one day, after he texts you something innocuous about getting to work late next week due to Abby’s school play (you found his dedication to his sister very sweet and were always happy to cover for him so he wouldn’t miss important things like this), you bite the bullet. You start small.

“Cute! What’s the play?”

“Robin Hood. Abby’s shy so she only made the sets, but still wants me to come see,”

You’re happy he doesn’t immediately shut you down, but you’re aware he might simply be being polite, or happy to talk about his sister like he always is. You think for a moment then text back, even though you’re sure he assumes the conversation is over now.

“I suppose I’ll have to miss this one :( Hold me a ticket for the next one!”

You immediately wonder if you’ve gone too far, trying to insert yourself into his life, into his future like this. No, you tell yourself, you’re overthinking, he’ll just interpret you as being polite but not serious. It would be fine. It’s a while until he texts back, so long that you assume he isn’t going to and continue about your day.

“Sure thing. What are you up to atm?”

Mike’s heart pounds as he sends the message. He’s not used to carrying a conversation forward like this, but he’s also not used to you talking to him about more than work, he has to take this chance. The fear of rejection consumes him for the next few minutes as he waits. He knows it’s barely anything, that there were a hundred riskier options for what he could have texted you, but he’s still anxious.

“Folding laundry! You?”

Mike immediately wonders what sorts of clothes you might have. You dress very plain for the security job, jeans and hoodies, the occasional t-shirt when it’s a little warmer, but he’s always felt your body looks too good to be dressed like that. You must show it off at least a little, and god, he’d love to see it. He’s occasionally caught sight of lace at your hips when you’ve bent over at work. He imagines you touching those panties while you text him and hates that the thought excites him. He really ought to get out more.

“Watching TV.”

He responds and realises he’s been a little too short with his answer. He racks his brain for something more to say.

“Girl on my show looks like you.”

He adds, although it’s not even true. He has the news on, but he wanted an excuse to say something more, without having to comment on the miserable contents of the news.

“Is she cute? ;)”

You text back, unsure what possessed you to be flirty, you hope to God you can play it off if he reacts poorly, like you’re just messing with him and stroking your own ego. You’d sent it without thinking, the reply popping into your mind and onto your screen in mere seconds. Mike is just as shocked. You can’t really be flirting, can you? He hasn’t flirted in years and was never good at it to begin with. He really doesn’t want to mess this up with you, not only because you work together, but because he genuinely really likes you and he’s hopeful that now things have settled down a bit with Abby, he could maybe try and find some romance. Abby needed a feminine presence in her life, especially as she got older, and, selfishly, Mike wanted to be loved, someone to hold on cold nights. He also really really wanted to get laid. He was only a man, and as much as other concerns had dominated his mind for a long time, you had brought back long-dormant urges. This is the thought that drives him forward as he sends his next text.

“She’s cute. But, she hardly compares to you,”

It’s another big risk, but he wants you so badly that he’s willing to take it. He’s not thinking with his head anymore.

“How so?”

You retort, your heart fluttering a little at his compliment. But you want to be sure of how he feels, you don’t want him to beat around the bush. You need to know that he wants you.

“You’re too beautiful for anyone to compare,”

He responds earnestly. This is it, he’s been transparent, this would be incredibly hard to play off as a joke. If it was a joke it would be a cruel one, so his plausible deniability is gone, his cards are on the table. He waits with bated breath. You take a long time to respond, unsure what to say. Your instinct is to thank him, but it might end the conversation there, you need this to keep going.

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“Of course you are, no need to be modest. You could model,”

“Haha! No, I couldn’t model, certainly not runway, but thank you anyway :)”

“Maybe a magazine? Star in a film at least?”

“I could star in your fantasies ;)”

The text takes both of you off-guard, even though you’re the one who wrote it. You had been texting so fast back and forth that you once again hadn’t thought before sending. You nearly send a message back, taking back your words and apologising, but your confidence has inspired Mike’s as well and he shoots back a text while you’re formulating an apology.

“You already do,”

Mike feels hot all over when he sends the text, having to shed his hoodie before he starts properly sweating. As out of his depth as he feels, he’s positive by now that you’re flirting and he can’t lose this chance. He needs you, he needs you to want him too, and he’s finally allowing himself to believe that perhaps you do.

“How often?”

“Every night,”

He can’t understand why he’s being so brazen, he could have easily scared you off by now, but you’re still texting him. He’s not thinking with his head anymore. His words make you excited, to know he thinks of you in this way, and every night is thrilling and arousing. You figure based on his last confession, that you can throw caution to the wind. You want him, he wants you, that much should be clear by now to the both of you.

“Me too! I imagine you fucking me over the security desk,”

Oh my god. Mike’s hands shake violently as he reads the text, he can’t help but let out a strangled moan, incredibly glad he’s alone right now. Has he died and gone to heaven? Are you playing a cruel prank on him? No, you’ve always been too kind and this is a long way to go for a prank. You must want him like you say, the thought makes his head spin and his pants tighten even more. For the first time ever, he can’t wait to go to work.

“Yeah? I think of that too,”

“Shall we? ;)”

“God, yes. I don’t even care if I get fired for it,”

“I won’t tell if you don’t!”

“My lips are sealed,”

God, he wants you so bad. He wishes he could come visit you and stop this agonising waiting game that’s begun, but his car is in the shop and the public transport nearby is virtually non-existent. This has all escalated so quickly, he had only hoped a few minutes ago for a brief non-work related chat, and now you were making plans with him for him to fuck you. He had to be in heaven, there was no other explanation. He was not going to get a single minute of work done next shift, or perhaps ever again. That poor desk doesn’t know what’s coming for it if he can have it his way. He prays you’re willing because he has about a million things he’d like to try with you.

His phone rings and he tenses. He doesn’t know whether to relax or tense further when he realises it’s you calling, but he quickly picks up anyway. As soon as he hears your voice, lower and sultrier than usual, he can’t help but buck his hips into the air slightly.

“Hey Mike,” you whisper seductively. You’re lying back against your pillows, trembling with nerves and excitement.

“Hey… uh… beautiful…” he tries his best to be suave. You giggle softly, but not mockingly at his awkwardness.

“Thinking of me?

“Fuck, you can’t even imagine,” he groans.

“Touching yourself?”

“No, but… good idea… you don’t mind?” he exhales, although he’s already palming himself through his boxers, his jeans having been unzipped sometime a little while ago. He’s lost control of himself. You’re softly running your hand up and down your stomach, warming yourself up, eager to hear more.

“If I was there, I’d do it for you,” you purr, enjoying the choked breath you hear on the other end of the line. He grips himself through the fabric, starting to stroke gently.

“How long have you wanted me like this?” he groans into the receiver, embarrassed knowing he isn’t going to last long, the high of being wanted like this, by you of all people, really getting to him.

“Since we met,” you reply, your voice a little breathy. He can guess why and the thought makes him whimper.

“When I get my hands on you I am gonna worship you,” he promises, his voice low and hoarse, his hand now inside his boxers. “I don’t deserve your attention but God, if I have it, I’ll make sure I don’t lose it, I’ll please you all day and night,” he pants harshly between words and he can hear soft moans from your end that only spur him on. “I want to make you happy,” he groans. He means it in many ways, but right now, you hope you only interpret it as lust, he won’t let his stupid heart ruin this for him right now.

“I wanna make you happy too,” you whimper. The words hit him hard, his eyes squeezing shut and his whole body erupting in pleasure. He throws his head back against the couch, groaning loudly, hearing your moans pick up as a result is unendingly thrilling. He spills all over his hand, thick ropes of his need for you. He gasps for breath and listens intently as you fall apart on the other end. Your moans are like sweet music, and somehow you have his cock swelling again already. He wills it away as you come down from your high, gasping for breath, not wanting to push you too far. He needs this to not be a one-time thing, he needs you in person. In his mind, he pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead, telling you how happy you’ve made him.

“I wish you were here,” he says instead, figuring it’s a little safer. You laugh a little, but it seems more like a laugh of surprise than anything.

“Still? Even though you finished already?” you tease.

“Of course, I… I could never just be done with you like that,” he insists softly, hoping you feel similarly. It seems, now more than ever, that he’s craving love and connection and now he knows that it has to be with you in order to fill what’s missing in his life. You are perfect. He knew it before but he knows it completely now. You are everything. “I care… you know? This wasn’t just a horny thing for me,”

“You seemed pretty horny,”

“You know what I mean!” he protests and you giggle. He laughs too, though he’s still anxious about how you felt about his confession.

“I care too, Mike,” you admit with a soft sigh, rolling onto your side. “I also want you here… Would you spoon me?”

“Of course, I would, gladly,” he promises, inwardly ecstatic that you want his affection. He wants to keep you warm and safe, tucked up against his chest, safe from harm. He imagines kissing your neck and he hears you sigh happily, he wonders if you share his fantasy. “I can’t wait to see you again. I’m so… grateful for all this… that you like me like this,” he hums, slowly tucking himself away and zipping up. He makes a mental note to buy you flowers for when he next sees you, hopefully, accompanied by the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend.

“I’ll see you at work,” you smile, blowing a kiss into the receiver.

“Yeah, see you at work,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

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megwritesriddles · 1 month ago

Text

All Too Much ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x F! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 12 - Overstimulation. Mike and Reader are friends-with-benefits, but they never find much time to explore these benefits fully. When they finally get a night alone, Mike is determined not to waste it, and maybe even make Reader fall in love.

Tags: Overstimulation, Multiple orgasms, Oral sex (f receiving), Light dom/sub, Praise kink, SoftDom!Mike, Munch!Mike, Friends with benefits, Secret feelings.

Word count: 2k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Realised today was Josh Hutcherson's (my pookie bear's) birthday so swapped this and my Seb fic around (it's coming tmrw dw!!) because of this, this is a little short and maybe rushed?? Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

This friends-with-benefits idea was still new, very new. It wasn’t something you’d ever done before, but you trusted Mike wholeheartedly, he was your friend, first and foremost, and he couldn’t afford to mess this up. You were so many things to him, his closest friend, Abby’s babysitter (occasionally when he couldn’t find anyone else), and one of the only people who he really trusts. And now, you were this too. You’d never seen Mike as nervous as he’d been the day he’d suggested the arrangement to you. He’d been rubbing his clammy palms on his jeans, his voice shaky and his eyes avoiding yours. He’d told you how lonely he was, how dating had become impossible because of his custody over Abby and had already been very hard for him before that. He’d told you he thought you were unbelievably attractive, that he always had, and that he would be a very giving lover. He emphasised this point, and you mainly shook it off, thinking he was just trying to let you know he didn’t intend to use you for your body, that he cared about you too, which you knew, but he hadn’t been emphasising it for nothing.

In the three times you’d hooked up now, you’d kept it very brief. There were only short periods of time that you were both available that you could also be alone during. There hadn’t been time for more than a little making out and then straight to sex. It was perfectly fine by you, he was very sweet and attentive, always rubbing your clit as he fucked you to make sure you felt good. He was full of praise, kissing all over your shoulders and telling you how much he had needed this, needed you. He told you how beautiful you were a little too much for the casual relationship you were trying to maintain, but you didn’t complain, loving the way his eyes softened when he told you that you looked beautiful, even if he was pounding into you at the same time. He was good, one of the best partners you’d ever had, no, the best. So when he’d asked you to set aside some time for him this Friday night because Abby was going to a sleepover, you obliged happily.

You’d gotten to his place and he’d pulled you straight into his arms, kissing your neck needily. It had made you giggle, you’d had to push him off just to properly take off your coat and put your bag down. As soon as you had, he was on you again, grabbing your waist and dragging you to his bedroom. He kissed up and down your neck, lowering you onto the bed.

“We finally have enough time for me to eat you out,” he growls excitedly, bunching your shirt up over your chest, and leaning down to kiss all over your breasts. All the attention made you squirm. Sure, he was usually a conscientious lover, but he didn’t usually have time to pay you this much attention. He suckles on each of your nipples in turn, flicking his tongue tantalisingly, a promise of how it might move elsewhere.

He smiles up at you, loving how flushed and breathless you are, knowing he hopes to bring you ecstasy tonight. He wants more than just a friendship with you, but he doesn’t know how to bring up the discussion. He will ensnare you by other means, methods that he will absolutely love. He kisses down your stomach, leaving a lovebite just under your belly button. It’s somewhere you can cover, so it’s only a message for him and you, but he hopes you get the message later, when you get home and shower, washing the remnants of him away, this will remain. Your jeans and panties are quickly torn off of you, his eagerness startling you a little as he spreads open your legs, coming to lie comfortably between them. You can only hope you smell okay, but by the blissful look on Mike’s face, the fear vanishes.

“My mouth is watering, you look so good,” he husks, kissing the soft skin of your inner thighs, tracing his tongue up a couple faint stretch marks there. You sigh, leaning back against him pillows, shifting them so you can look down at him. He grins. “Watching the show?” he teases, giving a small hickey right at the top of your thigh.

“Yeah, excited to watch,” you giggle. A genuine smile crosses his face and his eyes soften. He has a million sweet things he wants to say, but instead he settles on his usual.

“You’re beautiful, I haven’t got a proper look at your pussy before but God…” he groans, leaning in and placing a soft kiss against your folds, making you twitch. “As beautiful as the rest of you, and just as sweet too,” he grins, licking gentle broad stripes between your folds. You gasp and shiver, blood rushing to your cheeks. He watches your reactions, eyes slightly hooded. It feels like a victory when your hand moves into his hair, softly gripping and keeping him in place between your legs. He keeps up his gentle broad strokes, wanting to make you properly wet and needy before he gives you what you want, to heighten the sensations for you. He wants you completely addicted to him by the end of tonight. “You taste like heaven,” he moans against you, letting the vibrations wash over you. When you start to pant, he picks it up.

He starts to lap at you a little more intently, letting the tip of his tongue gently flick your clit on each upstroke. His hands wrap around your thighs, keeping you in place when you start to squirm. He happily lets you hook one leg over his shoulder as he buries himself deeper between your legs. He draws out your pleasure, building you up slowly, incrementally applying more and more pressure with his tongue, before he focuses solely on lapping at your clit. He occasionally dips his tongue down to lick up the wetness that trickles from you, moaning at the taste. He needs more of that. He begins to gently suckle at your clit. The action makes your back arch and you cry out his name in a choked-out way that makes him shiver. He loves his name on your lips, almost as much as he loves you on his. He slurps at you needily, needing more of the sweet nectar you’re providing him. His hands gently rub up and down your thighs and hips, soothing you toward that edge. With a few more gentle sucks, you cry his name again, twitching furiously under his tongue, the knot in your stomach snapping in searing pleasure all through your body. Your release oozes slowly out of you and he laps it up eagerly, the taste making him dizzy with desire, holding you down for more as you try to buck.

Once you’ve ridden out the waves of your pleasure, you’re surprised to find he isn’t withdrawing, starting to lick broad stripes between your soaked folds again. You whine, the feeling heightened by your previous orgasm, making you sensitive. Your legs twitch around his head and you whine louder, it feels like too much, and yet it feels amazing, the sensation leaving you reeling. You lock eyes as he looks up at you, a hint of mischief in his dark brown ones. He won’t be letting up until you’re done again. You whimper, resting your head back on his pillows. He holds your skittish hips in place, grinning as he swirls his tongue around the bundle of nerves nestled in your folds.

“Tasted so good when you came, just need more, do it again for me baby,” he pants against you, voice muffled by his unwillingness to let up for more than a second. He’s never called you baby before and shamefully, the word makes you clench around nothing. He chuckles against you, working his tongue faster. You moan wantonly, thankful you’re not at your apartment where neighbours might hear you, as you can’t keep yourself quiet for the life of you. He’s devouring you now, driven by pure lust and hunger, his eyes black as he stares up at you. The obscene noises his tongue creates against you only make you feel hotter, and the fact he’s groaning against you like he’s taking immense pleasure from this. You find yourself hurtling toward your second orgasm at breakneck speed.

It crashes over you even harder than the last, you scream out, your whole body tensing. You grip his hair and sheets so hard you think you’ll cause damage. Your vision whites out, you can barely register your own voice as you cry out for Mike in desperation. You feel the pressure on your hips mounting as he has to apply more strength to keep you from thrashing violently under him. You gasp for breath, practically sobbing, feeling as he greedily licks up all your release, his eyes closing as he lets out a moan at the taste. He still doesn’t relent. You sob.

“M-Mike! I c-can’t take more!” you plead, choking out moans as he gently kisses your clit.

“Yes you can, baby, you’re strong, I need more,” he groans. You squirm, trying to escape his grip, but he has you held too tight. It feels too good, your brain can’t process the onslaught of sensation. He’s being gentler, wanting to bring you pleasure, knowing the overstimulation could turn into pain if he’s not careful. He kisses and licks your clit gently, smiling as you whimper and squirm and cry his name. There are tears gathering in your eyes, but he can tell you feel good from the way you still have your hand gripped in his hair, holding him in place. He has you where he wants you, he knows you can only take one more orgasm, even though he’d love to bring you through more. You’ll be able to handle more over time, for now, he savours what he has, keeping it slow and gentle. Despite how soft his touches are, you react like you're being shocked with each press of lips or flick of his tongue. He watches you grab aimlessly at the sheets, trying to ground yourself, but you’re already floating.

He underestimates just how sensitive you are, with a gentle suck to your bundle of nerves, you fall apart. You sob through it, overwhelmed completely by pleasure, tears rolling down your cheeks. He gently cleans up your release, being very careful to avoid your sensitive swollen clit. You twitch and jerk with each move of his tongue and he knows he can’t push his luck and try for another. Three is a good place to start. He pulls back, gently pressing a few kisses to your inner thighs again. You wail with both relief and slight disappointment. It’s a good sign, next time he will try for four. He smiles at you as he moves to sit up between your legs, making a show of licking his lips. You look completely wrecked, your whole body flushed and shining with sweat, your hair messed up and your makeup all smudged. You look like you’re on another planet right now. He crawls up to lie down beside you, rubbing your arm soothingly.

“How was that, baby? Are you alright?” he coos softly, wiping away some of your mascara tears. “You look beautiful,” he adds.

“I’ve never- I’ve… not experienced that before,” you pant hoarsely. He smiles. He reaches for a glass of water on his bedside, pulling you up to sit and holding it to your mouth, slowly letting you sip it. You lean heavily into his side, feeling completely wrecked. The water soothes your throat and his arms wrapping around you soothe your spirit. He’s just overwhelmed you, but now you feel blissful and tired and like all you want in the world is him. He kisses your temple, rubbing relaxing circles on your back. “You’ve just ruined me for anyone else,” you giggle breathlessly, meaning to joke, but nervously realising that you kind of mean it. He goes silent for a moment, a smug grin spreading over his lips.

“I know,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

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