Can we have more of Mickey being uhhh “well endowed” ? How would he react to getting called big boy?
🤤 Mickey is just the perfect subby boy. I love himmm.
+
Mickey was a fascinating man. One moment, he was devising outlandish get-rich-quick schemes, mapping out the schematics with inventive precision until he had nothing short of a multi-level heist drawn out on a table napkin, and the next, he was empty-headed, pouting because he couldn't think beyond the realm of arousal. It was like those two words pulled the plug from his head and his brain flushed out like pink lemonade. All one had to do was call out this name, and he defaulted into a sex toy on legs.
"You wanna get naked for me, big boy?"
The theory proved itself time and again. It almost started to get boring how easy it was to make him drop everything for a little fooling around. So, like Mickey, you found ways to keep it interesting, new and exciting ways to work this pet name into every day life.
The first time had been in the grocery store on a midnight run to buy movie snacks. You said it near the chips and nuts, and Mickey had to flip his hard-on into his waist band until after checkout. The second time, you were watching him negotiate a deal for a new junker, and before the salesman came with the keys, you had him at full-mast, scrambling to find his composure. It had been too late, and the salesman caught wind of his excessive bulge and kicked you off the lot with no deals or wheels. Birthday parties, meetings, on the phone with his mom--teasing Mickey became your favourite past time. But the most fun you had was when you could follow through and milk him for all he was worth.
Sometimes, Mickey liked to kneel on the floor with his hands behind his back while you made him as hard as possible with only words. It was a special form of torture that licked hotter than any whip across his skin. He loved the sound of your voice when you called him a big boy, a good boy, a very big, very good and special boy whose only purpose was offering a pole for you to bounce on. Tonight was one of those nights.
"Look at you, just sitting there, unable to move. That beautiful dick standing at attention. Such a good boy."
His cock swayed and skin crawled with millions of warm little kisses.
"Is that what you like, big boy? You want compliments?"
"Yes, ma'am," Mickey said.
"That shouldn't be too hard. Not when my big boy listens so well."
"What do you wanna do to me?" His tone went breathy.
"What don't I? To start, I'd want to make you lie down on the bed, no hands touching, and just slide down on that nice big cock until I'm all full. Then, to really tease you, I'd squeeze around you until you couldn't take it."
A blush ran up his chest and stopped at his cheeks. Mickey nodded for more, tongue unwilling to stay in his mouth.
"Then, once you were soaked, I'd start fucking that big boy cock real slow."
"Mmm, god, I want it so bad," said Mickey. "Please, please. I've been good."
"You're always a good boy, aren't you? Never a naughty bone in your body... Well, I stand corrected. Rather, you stand corrected. My, my... Such a big, big boy. So beautiful and well behaved. I think you deserve a little treat, don't you?"
Mickey struggled not to crawl closer, but the idea of getting what he wanted excited him. He knew better than to come out of line. After all, big boys had good manners, and big boys with good manners always got to play with their toys.
For the lovely @grandpa-sweaters follower milestone🖤I truly cannot express how happy I am that you’re a part of this fandom and to be able to read the amazing content you put out!! This is my first long spooky piece, and I had a lot of fun with this writing challenge and getting into the Halloween spirit. I hope you can all enjoy some spooky!Mickey👻
WARNINGS: 18+, slight smut and some spooky goings-on!
They had been in the car for at least four hours, she surmised. Not that she was complaining, car journeys with Mickey were anything but tedious. His Halloween playlist was blasting in the car, with Mickey enthusiastically tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the tune of ‘monster mash’, flashing his girl a large grin as he noticed her leg start to bounce to the rhythm of the chorus.
“I swear we passed that tree an hour ago.” Mickey’s playful expression dulled as he pushed his foot on the brakes, leaning over to the backseat to grab the pile of maps his father had bestowed them with when he heard news of their secluded weekend away.
“Do you know which one we need?” She peered over to look at the crinkled maps, feeling a pang in her stomach when she realised she had no idea where they were. Before waiting for Mickey to answer she grabbed her phone, letting out a quiet groan when she saw she had no cell reception.
“Uh...” Mickey’s brows furrowed as he turned one of the maps round in circles, bringing one of his forefingers up to his lips as he chewed on his fingernail anxiously.
“There’s no reception on either of our phones. How much gas do you have left?”
“An hour, give or take.”
Mickey’s answer filled her with a dread she hadn’t felt in a long time. They were lost, with not enough to gas to return home, or to locate a gas station. She closed her eyed for a few seconds, trying to scramble up some kind of plan in her mind, which was proving quite difficult as ‘time warp’ was blasting out of the stereo.
“Look, babe, it’s fine. If anything this is what we wanted, just us in the middle of nowhere.” Mickey leaned his hand across to tousle her hair and she let out the breath she had been holding. Mickey was right. They were alone for miles, with no phones to distract them.
“That backseat is looking pretty cosy, huh?” Mickey’s hand was now making its way down her chest, toying with the buttons on her dress as she felt a warmth between her legs.
In an instant they were both in the backseat, fumbling with jackets and belts in the limited space. Her back was pressed against the uncomfortable seats as her legs were wrapped around Mickey, who was trying his best to look sexy while wriggling his jeans and boxer shorts down to his ankles while hovering above her. She managed to hitch her dress up to her waist and kick off her woollen tights, shivering slightly as she felt the chill of the late October air hit her.
“You’re so fucking sexy.” Mickey mumbled as he pressed his lips to her neck, his long fingers trailing up her thighs until they reached her panties. She instinctively arched her back as she felt him remove them, a move which he rewarded with pressing himself into her slowly.
Her nails dug into his t shirt as he began to rock his hips back and forth, hissing a string of curses into her ear as his hips rutted against hers. She could feel herself edging closer and closer to her release with each second, her walls starting to clench around Mickey’s cock when all of a sudden he leapt upwards, hitting his head off the roof of the car as his face went white.
“What the fuck.” His eyes were fixed out of the window, his nostrils flared as he went completely stiff.
“Mickey? What’s wrong?” She shuffled upwards and craned her head around as far as she could to look out of the window, seeing nothing but the setting sun and the dense field of crops behind their car.
“Someone was there.” Mickey’s voice trembled as he hoisted his jeans up, not taking his gaze off that same spot outside the car.
“Don’t mess around, it’s not funny.” Her lips pursed together as she pulled up her panties and tights, smoothing down the creases on her dress.
“I’m not, someone was there. Some old guy, staring right at me.”
“It was probably nothing, it’s just because it’s that time of year, I told you not to stay up last night watching those horror movies.” As she climbed back into the front of the car Mickey still stayed knelt in the backseat, rooted to the spot as his eyes darted around the vast expanse surrounding them.
“Come on, Mick. If we drive along the road we might find a motel or something.” She rubbed his arm gently, slowly coaxing him into the drivers seat and turning the car engine back on.
As Mickey pressed the gas pedal, instead of going forwards, the car began to rock, making a screeching noise before going silent.
“No, please no.” Mickey’s finger’s shook against the wheel as his breathing began to quicken.
“Mickey, baby calm down. It’s alright.” She was about to lean over to kiss his cheek when she felt her blood turn cold. A glance in the rear-view mirror had confirmed Mickey’s earlier sighting. There was a man stood behind their car, face contorted with anger as he stared right back at her.
“Start the car. Try it again.” She yelled, hitting the lock as she watched the man approach her window. His fist hammered on the glass as she attempted to ignore it, her heart thudding against her chest as time after time, the car refused to move.
“You filthy delinquents. This is private land.” Both her and Mickey froze when the man finally spoke, his irate words somehow calming them both. He was just the land owner, probably a disgruntled farmer.
Mickey rolled the window an inch, gulping as he took in a deep breath.
“Sorry, mister. We’re lost and our car is stuck in something, we just need a mechanic and then we’ll be out of your hair.” Mickey’s words came tumbling out of his mouth, and the expression of the man outside the car seemed to soften slightly.
“No mechanic will come out at this hour, we’re in for a heck of a storm tonight.” They watched as he pointed toward the darkening clouds, chuckling as the first few droplets of rain started to land on the bonnet of their car, as if summoned by the imposing man who had caught them.
“I own the old farmhouse down the way. You two must’ve passed it on your way here. You better come with me if you want to survive.” Once again he chuckled, this time with slightly more rigour, gesturing for the two of them to exit their car and follow him as though this were a completely normal situation they had found themselves in on Halloween night.
When they reached the farmhouse she felt Mickey tugging on her arm, staring up nervously at the rickety, aged structure that was looming above them. Darkened, wilted vines had long since begun to scale each wall of the house, entwining themselves around every window so that was no view into the house, or out. However, what surrounded them was arguably worse. There was a vast swamp surrounding the house, filled with stagnant, oozing water that made Mickey’s girl pull the neckline of her dress over her nose.
“We can’t stay here, there’s probably gators in there” Mickey hissed in her ear, pulling her away from the edge of the swamp and toward the farmhouse.
“It’s fine, it’s just one night.” She whispered once she had regained her composure, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze and following the farm owner up the creaky, cobweb-bound stairs to the entrance of his home.
As he was turning his key in the lock, both he and Mickey’s girl instinctively turned on their heels as they heard a blood-curdling scream behind them, revealing a wiry old cat curling itself around Mickey’s legs.
“N’aw, that’s just ol’ Mr, Whiskers, he ain’t gonna do you no harm, boy.” The farmer let out a brisk tsking sound and scooped up the cat, shoving his shoulder against the door to open it and then gently placing the cat inside.
“Fucking cat.”
Mickey’s girl shot him a warning look as he brushed his hands down his jeans, wafting away clumps of hair Mr. Whiskers had left behind from his greeting.
“Now you two can take the guest room, straight up the stairs and onto your first right.” He held out the key to his guests, but quickly retracted it when Mickey landed his fingers on the rusted metal.
“I got rules in this house, and I don’t want you two thinkin’ you can do all your hanky panky in my sheets. Understood?”
Mickey gave him a curt nod and a wide, sarcastic smile, taking the key and his girlfriend’s hand as he led her to their room for the night. When she had put her bags down and perched on the edge of the bed, Mickey grabbed the chair that was in the corner of the room and propped it up against the old, rotting door.
“Mickey.”
“What? We don’t know this guy, I’m not taking any chances.” He held up his hands and kicked off his boots before jumping onto the bed, causing a loud, unnerving creaking sound to fill the room.
“You know, this never would’ve happened if you hadn’t insisted we use your dad’s maps.” She cocked her eyebrow, lying herself down next to Mickey with her head rested on his chest.
“Hey, we used to use those all the time when I was a kid, they only seemed to fail when you were here.” Mickey playfully poked her in the side, using his other arm to wrestle her beneath him as his lips moulded themselves against hers.
“Mmmm...”
“Mickey, I don’t think we should.” She tried her best to reprimand him, sucking in a deep breath as Mickey’s hands started to wander up her dress.
“Oh come on, he’s not gonna know.”
“It just doesn’t feel right, not here.”
Mickey nodded and placed a kiss on her nose before laying back down next to her, curling his arm over her shoulders as the rain outside started to lash against the wooden frame of the house from outside.
She could feel herself about to surrender to sleep when Mickey started to wriggle around on the bed next to her, tapping his fingers against the bedsheets and humming as he usually did when he needed to distract himself from something.
“What is it?” She leant up on her elbow and peered at Mickey through the darkness in the room, who was chewing in his bottom lip and fidgeting round even more frequently.
“I really gotta pee.”
“So go to the bathroom?”
“In this place? Are you kidding me? What I sit on the toilet and something either bites me on the ass or sucks me into the sewer?”
She couldn’t help but giggle, shaking her head after a few moments and letting out a sigh.
“So you’re just going to hold it until morning?”
“My Uncle Finch knew this guy who could re-absorb his pee into his body, maybe I could try that.” Mickey closed his eyes and held his breath, starting to count to what she could only assume was infinity as she felt herself begin to drop off into sleep once again.
Mickey had seemed to join her, as they both sat upright in a start as a bolt of lightening caused the whole house to shudder, and the chair that had jammed the door shut fell to the floor, but they were both frozen to the spot, neither one of them daring to move a muscle to prop it back up into place.
“Let’s go back to the car.” Mickey’s tone was desperate but she shook her head.
“We can’t, that swamp will have flooded by now and like you said, there’s probably gators surrounding every inch of the house.”
Mickey groaned and threw his head against the hard pillows of their bed, staring up at the damp spores of the ceiling as he willed the night to be over as quickly as possible. He bolted upright once more when he felt something fluffy glide across his feet, throwing himself onto the other side of the bed with a screech as a pair of iridescent eyes fixed on him.
“Mickey, it’s just the cat. I think he likes you.” His girl tried to suppress a giggle as the cat pounced onto Mickey’s legs and with a throaty purr, settled onto his lap.
“How did it get in here? The door is closed.”
“It doesn’t matter, try to get some rest.”
Reluctantly, Mickey petted the cat’s head who, satisfied, closed its eyes and fell into a slumber.
She didn’t remember falling back asleep, but when she woke there were voices outside their door, and the first few rays of the autumnal morning sunshine had begun to force themselves through the tiny gaps in the vines acting as armour across the window.
“Mickey. Mickey wake up.” She hissed, gently shaking the sleeping figure next to her, noticing that their furry visitor from the night before had all but disappeared, despite the door still remaining firmly closed.
“Huh? What?” Mickey murmured as he finally started to stir, rubbing his hands over his eyes as the voices from down the hallway started getting louder, until the doorknob began to turn, revealing two men dressed in full protective work-gear, clearly bemused by the sight before them.
“How did you two get in? This place has been condemned for years, storm last night tore down the whole East side of the house. Hell, you’re lucky you’re both still here.” One of the men cautiously looked around their room before stepping foot in, ensuring both of them were careful to exit the rickety bedroom.
“What do you mean? We ran out of gas and some farmer guy who owned the place said we could stay the night.” Mickey began to explain, pulling on his jacket and lacing up his boots.
Both of the construction workers looked at each other, their faces paling slightly as they cast their gaze back to the couple.
“You saw old Farmer Jones?”
“If that’s his name then, yeah.”
“Guys been dead for over a decade.”
“What?” Mickey and his girl responded in unison, their voices laced with equal parts confusion and terror.
“As the old legend has it, he spends every Halloween night wandering around his land with his cat, inviting people into his house to shelter them from the storm that happens every year. Guess you two were lucky, now that’s a story to tell your friends back home.” The guy chuckled and led both Mickey and his girl out of the house, leaving them at the side of the swamp as he called a mechanic for their car troubles.
Mickey shoved his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath.
“I knew there was something fucked up about that cat.”
I don't know how many of your asks you answer right now but it would be amazing if you wanted to write something from my little thought.
It's angsty 🙈 what if you and Mickey have been together a while but he have lied about his background but on a big dinner a friend tell you and all of your friends the truth. The drugs, the crimes, the time in prison. And you don't know if you actually can't accept his history or his lies?
Hello, love. I couldn't resist writing a sweet little thing about Mickey. Maybe not as angsty as you'd hoped, but it's cute. Enjoy!
+
In the four months of dating him, you had never seen Mickey dressed in anything more formal than a plain black t-shirt and jeans. So, when he showed up on your doorstep in a white button-down shirt still pleated from the multipack he must have bought from the department store down the road, your eyes bulged. He handed you a cluster of daisies and dropped his eyes to the cement step, cheeks pink.
"Oh, Mickey. You look great!"
"You think so? I kinda feel like a chump."
"No, you're so handsome, it hurts. Thank you for doing this for me."
Mickey brushed off his embarrassment and kissed your cheek. "'Course, babe. I wouldn't miss it for anything."
The wedding reception was held in the banquet hall of the Garden Inn, where businesses and road shows had conventions. It was nothing special, but the way they had decorated the room made you feel like you walked into a gala for the rich and famous. The men wore tuxedos and suits, and the women wore floor length gowns, hair done up in curls and pins. Maybe you and Mickey weren't the most well-to-do in attendance, but you were closer with the bride and groom than half the other guests, so there was a sense of entitlement that put a bounce in your step.
Your table was home to a dozen other guests, and one of them was a man you dated a few years ago for only two weeks before you stopped answering his text messages. He seemed to have a rotten eye for Mickey. The first course he spent staring at you, scowling at Mickey's jokes, exusing himself constantly for the restroom. You paid him little mind until your cousins began whispering, eyes full of wine-laced glee. They pointed at Mickey and conferred with the ex who drank at the far end of the table.
"So, Mickey. What do you do for a living?" A cousin asked over the upbeat dance music.
Mickey, caught off guard, swallowed the last bit of his chicken cordon bleu, and chuckled.
"I fix computers," he said.
"More like steals them. How was your time in county?"
You hadn't known Mickey for long, but you knew the expression of a man caught in a trap. The dejected eyes, the stiff lips, the nervous laugh that revealed only guilt. Mickey scratched the back of his head and turned to you for rescue.
"No idea what this guy's talking about," he said, nudging you to get a laugh of solidarity.
"Didn't you used to sell cocaine? Or have you retired?"
"Mickey, what the fuck is he talking about?" You asked.
He fumbled with his tongue until your ex stood up, eyes rage-ridden and huge.
"I know you! You sold my buddy a sack of flour. Said it was the purest Columbian cocaine you could ever find. When I heard you got booked for robbing that lady's house, we all fucking laughed."
"That's not... Fuck you, man. I'm just trying to have a nice time with my girl. Who even are you?"
"Yeah, watch your purses, ladies. Mickey has sticky fingers. It's no surprise he's with you either. You're just as sketchy as he is!"
Mickey stamped the table with his fist and stood up. All the women gasped and your ex flinched, but Mickey only turned on his heel and left. You glared at everyone and fixed an especially venomous scowl at the ex whose behaviour didn't surprise you. What shocked you were the accusations he'd thrown to make Mickey walk out of the hotel faster than you could keep up.
In the parking lot, you saw him charging toward his car, and called his name. He waved you away.
"Leave me the fuck alone. This is exactly why I don't like going out on this town."
You pulled his elbow, stopping him from reaching for the car door handle.
"Tell me what the hell is going on, Mickey. Was all that stuff true?"
"Okay, that motherfucker in there has no idea what he's talking about!"
"But is it true?"
"Yeah, maybe I went to jail, but it wasn't for robbing no old lady, okay? That part isn't true."
"What parts are true then? And why didn't you tell me you were in jail?"
Mickey threw his arms up in defeat. "'Cause look at you! Look at me. A girl like you would never give me the time of day. Not unless I lied about my past and pretended like I was the total opposite of how I really am. Well, I guess it's too late now. Cat's out of the bag. You can go now. Have a nice life."
You put your arms around his shoulders and forced him to look at you even for just a second. The gloss over his eyes said everything you needed to know. It was true what they said. All of it.
"You should have told me so I didn't have to find out this way."
"Why? So you could have left me sooner?"
"No, so I didn't think I was dating a liar all this time."
Mickey shrugged out of your arms. "I don't do that shit anymore, okay? I learned my lesson."
"Are you sure? What about every other Friday when you won't come see me? What are you doing on those days?"
Mickey sighed and closed his eyes to keep from crying. He was sensitive, and you had seen him get emotional before. Now it was much more serious and you felt awful when his lip wobbled, as if he were the victim.
"I go to see my Nana. She's in a home. I promise, I'm not lying. I'll even take you to go meet her of you really want. She's not all there, but she might like the extra company."
"Oh, Mickey... Why did you keep this all from me?"
"The stealing was for her. Somebody had to pay for her prescriptions and no one in my family gives a shit. Probably explains why I turned out so great."
You jumped at him, and caught him off balance, kissing his cheeks until he started to laugh.
"You're the sweetest man I've ever met. But I don't like liars."
"Is it lying if I never say anything?"
"Yes! Lying by omission is wrong."
"Well, I'm sorry..I couldn't risk losing you. I've never been so happy in my life. I just didn't want you to be ashamed. Like dating a jailbird isn't exactly a bragging right."
The night sky had turned so black, you hadn't noticed the sooty rain clouds overhead until droplets struck the windshield of Mickey's beaten up station wagon. Soon, the drops beaded together and came down faster. One struck your eyelashes and Mickey wiped it away with his thumb.
"Come on, let's get outta the rain. I'll take you home."
Solemnly, you said, "no, Mickey."
"Why not?"
"I just wanna go home with you. Fuck those guys. And fuck this wedding. Let's go."
Mickey made a triumphant fist and ducked down to kiss you.
For all you hand lovers out there (I know there is A LOT of us) I got you.
Mickey’s girl LOVES his hand tattoos (she also loves his ass tattoo, but a little more secretly), especially when they’re laid in bed and he’s tracing patterns on her naked belly, trailing his fingers up and down, back and forth over her exposed skin while she lets out a content sigh every so often. Those are some of her favourite moments to share with him, the post-sex bliss where they’re both still slightly out of breath, sprawled out with the bedsheets tangled around their legs while they gaze at each other, silently exchanging their endless gratitude for one another.
Her body is still a little twitchy, small aftershocks from the orgasm that had rippled through her mere minutes ago making Mickey flash her his lopsided smile as his long fingers move their way to her thighs, tracing through the pool of arousal still slicked across her flesh. She feels her muscles tense as Mickey’s fingers ever so gently graze against her clit, resulting in her body jolting slightly once more. He smirks and begins moving his fingers further south, tracing small circles around her knee as she breathlessly keeps her gaze fixed on his fingers, the small tattoos now glistening with her arousal. Mickey shuffles closer to her, pressing his lips against her shoulder as he follows her eyeline toward his hands.
“You want me to do something with them?” His voice is eager but slightly muffled, and he waits for her nod before walking his fingers back up her thighs.
Her eyes close as she relinquishes control to Mickey’s fingers, something that is still uncommon for her, but she can already feel herself buckling under the heavenly pressure Mickey’s thumb is applying against her clit as he pumps his middle and index finger inside of her, finding a rhythm that soon has her back arching off the mattress and a string of profanities leaving her mouth.
Beside her she could feel Mickey growing hard once again, his bulge pressed against her thigh as she felt his hips grind forwards, whimpering quietly at the friction as he continued to work his girl up to her climax, never letting up as he felt her begin to tense. Her hands were fisting the sheet beneath them, and she began to claw at it as Mickey leaned across her chest, taking her nipple into his mouth as he worked his fingers harder. His tongue rolled across the hard bud, and before she knew it her eyes were screwed shut, her jaw slack, her hips raised. The feeling was intense, and she cried out Mickey’s name until it ended, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her eyes began to flicker open, revealing Mickey’s proud, yet slightly concerned face.
“I’m good, I’m good.” She reassured him breathlessly, reaching one of her hands up to run it through his soft hair.
Mickey nodded, his grin returning as he leant up on his elbow, trailing his tongue over his fingers, the taste of her making his hard on even more prominent. His girl knew that this time, it was her who would be putting her fingers to use. Turning over onto her side so that she was facing him, she wrapped her fingers around his base, Mickey’s eyes immediately rolling back at the sensation as she gave him a light squeeze. Slowly, she began to turn her hand in a clockwise motion whilst moving it from his base to his tip, taking a second to rub her thumb along the string of pre-cum that had appeared, watching as Mickey sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and balled both of his fists.
She continued this motion, her left hand trailing up his chest until it reached its destination. Her fingers snaked around his throat, giving it a light squeeze as she let go of his cock, a small smirk forming on her lips as it slapped against his stomach. Mickey groaned, giving her look of lust-induced desperation as she ceased all touch.
“You’ve been amazingly good today, little one. I mean that.” Her voice was laced with mischief as she traced her finger down the length of his cock. But instead of once again attaching her hand to it, she latched onto something else, something that made Mickey almost levitate off the bed.
Her hand was of course cupping one of his balls, her fingers expertly massaging the skin as she applied a little more pressure around his throat, the combination driving Mickey closer and closer to the edge as he began to pant and whine.
“F-f-f-fuck.” Was all he managed to splutter as his girl released his throat, instead tending to his cock as Mickey threw his head back against the pillows, instinct taking over his every move as he began to grind his hips upwards, his eyebrows knitting together as his stomach clenched.
“Fuck baby, fucking shit, holy-” Mickey’s whole body tensed for a second, his girl contentedly watching as his release spurted onto his stomach and up his chest.
She flopped back down next to him, running her finger through the small puddle on his belly before popping it into her mouth. Mickey’s eyes glistened as he watched her, utterly spent as he felt her pick up his hand, her soft lips kissing across each little finger tattoo as his eyes started to feel heavy.
Before long they had both drifted off into a light slumber, their bodies once again entwined as though that was how they were always meant to be.
I think Mickey is really big, maybe so big he is scared to hurt his little lady. Maybe it is their first time and it is a bit of a struggle but she takes control and calm him down when he gets nervous?
Where words failed Mickey, his eyes revealed all the thoughts and emotions making circles in his head. So when his lips pressed together and the whites surrounding his green irises flashed wildly, you knew something was wrong.
“It’s fine, I promise. You can move, Mickey.”
“I know,” he said with a shiver. “It’s just... Fuck, it’s so much. How is it not hurting?”
You wiggled your hips, causing him to blush and struggle even more. “It just feels good having all of you inside me.”
“You sure?” He asked.
Mickey chuckled as you pulled him forward and rolled him onto his back. You tilted your hips forward and let almost every inch of him slip out until you rocked back and he was enveloped again. Panicked yet enraptured by the tight hold, Mickey shook his head in disbelief. “Damn, baby girl. That feels so good. That tiny little... Mmm. I can’t believe it.”
“You better believe it, big man.”
He slid his hands down your back and over your ass, gripping your muscle, thighs and hips as you started the slow waves forward and back. Your drive soothed his frayed nerves and when he noticed the expression of pure arousal on your face, his doubts all melted away.
“There you go. You can do it, baby. It’s all you,” you said as Mickey rose his hips an inch off the bed. “I want it.”
“Fuck, I never want it to end,” he admitted with a lopsided grin.
How about some Mickey trying to dom? He gets tired of being such a good boy and wants to show the reader that he can play both sides? 😮💨
Yesssssssss. Just, yes.
Warning: drug use and daddy stuff.
+
Mickey's phone vibrated while he cleaned a line off the cracks in the screen. He jumped and sent the device flipping through the air. It landed face down on the rocks after a failed snatching.
"Slick move. Good thing there was nothing left."
Mickey picked up the phone and answered, stuffing the dollar bill in his pocket, pebbles falling onto his denim.
"Yo... Mm-hmm. Nah. Sorry about that. Not tonight. I'm out with my old lady."
You struck him in the bicep, having told him not to call you that a dozen times since he formed the habit. When he hung up, a sheepish grin wiggled onto his unshaven face.
"Tell me you love me," said Mickey.
"Shut up. You know I do."
Mickey's eyes hardened.
"Tell me."
His shoulders dropped as he closed the space between you with his fingers in your hair, yanking you closer.
"Say you love me."
A challenge excited you, but coming from Mickey, it was equally confusing. The docile man you had travelled with for weeks never bore his teeth before. Mickey's hand was a vice on your jaw, taking control. His other hand crept between your legs. Your back met concrete wall as a wave of total inhibition struck.
"You're mine, aren't you?"
"I guess so."
He crushed your lips, fingers leaving prints on your skin.
"Why're you being such a bad girl right now? Don't you wanna be good for me? Or do you want to get your ass spanked when I get you back to the car?"
"Is the alternative staying here and getting fucked behind a bowling alley?"
"Is that what you want?"
"I don't know, Daddy. You tell me."
Mickey's air chilled, and he giggled against your neck, tickling your skin with his scruff.
"I'm sorry. Am I being too gross? It's hard to tell when girls like being... You know...Told what to do."
You licked up his neck, and a moan followed from his throat.
"Ohhh."
"You can show me who's boss."
"Yeah?" Mickey laughed. "You'll take it anywhere I want? Right here, where anyone can find us?"
"If it makes you happy, I'll do it for you."
"Well, aren't I lucky tonight? Come on, baby. Let's go to my car. I need that nasty mouth on my cock, and I don't want my sweet girl kneeling on the stones and hurting her precious skin."
Mickey took your hand and led you away, throat numb, simpering as he worked his hand into your bottoms to drag his finger between your folds. He sniffed your neck, spindly hand brushing your shoulder.
"Maybe we should hit up a bed. This coke has me torqued, baby. We might be up all night, and I'd like to wreck you in comfort, you feel me?"
"Will you still finger me on the way home?"
"Of course," Mickey scoffed. "But maybe after I make use of how numb your throat probably is right now."
Imagine being with Mickey and he's really inexperienced and because of that he's all blushy, giggly and do weird things (that sometimes actually is better than you thought) ☺️
“Hey! That t-t-tickles!” Mickey cringed as you kissed a trail down to his belly button.
You looked up at him and saw his big eyes wide with anticipation and kissed the spot right above his navel. Mickey sucked in his stomach and clapped a hand over his mouth.
“Since when are you so ticklish?” You asked. “I rub your tummy all the time.”
“I know, I’m just--” Mickey paused to hiccough. “I guess I’m extra sensitive tonight?”
“Are you nervous, Mick?”
The tall man pressed his temples with one hand and nodded with a sigh. His bashfulness showed through his cheeks and you swooned as the rest of him started turning pink.
“Should I stop?”
“No way,” he murmured. “I want to, it’s just... What if I don’t do well?”
“Impossible. You’re already doing well. Just relax, and I’ll take care of you.”
Mickey relaxed in the sheets and chewed his lip while staring at the ceiling. You worked your way down, skipping his ticklish spots to his jeans. He dared a glance down as you pressed a kiss to the firmness growing beneath the thick blue material.
“Oh. Is it gonna be all slow like that?” Mickey asked.
“Why? Do you not like that?”
“I like it.”
You had never been with a man so talkative and shaky. Mickey pressed his lips together to suppress his hiccoughs and snickered when you gave him a coy smirk.
“What? This happens when I’m nervous.”
“It’s cute.”
“It’s annoying, I bet.”
You robbed him of his next bout of words by yanking his pants down, underwear and all. His cock laid erect against his groin, and the tremors bubbling up from his throat disappeared. You stuck your tongue out, hovering just above the tip, watching him chew his knuckle and whimper.
“Are you gonna?--Oh. Oh, fuck, don’t tease me like that!”
“I thought you said you like it?”
“But your tongue... It’s so close. Please, I’m so hard now.”
“You want it?”
Mickey nodded desperately. “Yes!”
“Say please.”
“Please, please, please!”
Once you gripped him and sank down on his cock as far as you could go, Mickey’s leg shook and his throat bobbed from swallowing his words. His attempts to stifle himself failed, and he sat up as if waking from an intense dream.
“How are you so good at that?” Mickey gasped.
You shrugged, placed your hand on his bare chest and pushed him back down. “Quiet now. Just enjoy what I give you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said and clamped his lips shut, nodding and shivering from the heat surrounding him. “I’ll shut up now.”
In this universe, Mickey is the daddy of the relationship because you’re more of a sub than he is but he is the softest daddy ever. Like a total pushover and you just love it
Mm, I've been thinking of Mickey way too much lately. Thank you, anon, for planting this seed of super soft and loving Daddy Mickey 😍
Warning: ddlg themes
His top lip snagged in amusement while he kissed you. There you were, perched on the kitchen counter, Mickey between your legs, hands on your face to pull you as close as possible. He savoured the little breathy moans, returned them, treated your lips like sweet sugary delights with a stroke of his tongue. He hummed as he satiated his craving and stroked your cheeks and hair while feasting on your mouth. When he pulled back, your lips smacked apart, and he went weak in the knees, drifting down to your height as his lashes fluttered.
"Fuck, I can't get enough of you, baby girl. Your lips taste so perfect."
"Yours do," you countered, giggling.
"No way, yours do!" He mused, eyelids drooping as he tilted inward to kiss you again. You felt his small nipples pressing into you from under his thin striped shirt, his chest eclipsing most of your upper half. Mickey made it all right for you to touch him by moaning every time you so much as grazed his shoulders or neck, and if you went for his chest or his mouth first, it was a guaranteed ordeal to stave him off. Not that you ever wanted to.
Tonight was your special night with Mickey. He posed an agreement to take you out on a proper date at least once a week other than Friday--your regular date night. With strict orders to show up with an overnight bag, you didn't fight him, and he rewarded you each time.
Mickey might not have had the nicest apartment, or the most money to spend on these nights out, but he had one thing you'd never experienced before--a raging appetite to please you, to make sure all your worries were taken care of, your fridge stocked and pussy always worshipped. But he liked to tease for hours with promises and gentle, over-the-panty strokes that only lasted until you bit your lip. It always started in the morning with a text telling you he'd dreamt about you again, and lasted until he could get his hands on your body.
You could get your way with him if you wanted, but the slow tease burned hot and sweet between your legs. The secret times he rubbed two fingers over your clit under a table at a fast food joint, the alleyway fucks behind the bar when he just couldn't wait to get you home, the shallow whispers along your neck in the movie theatre describing how badly he wanted to pin you down and lick your pussy until you came on his tongue all made the wait just as good as the pay-off.
It was after dinner when he'd urged you onto the counter so he could feel all your limbs wrapping around him at once.
"What's for dessert?" He asked.
"I don't know, Daddy."
"Hm," he pondered. "I'm thinking of something sweet. Soft. Warm... Something that gets creamier the more I lick it. Any ideas, baby girl?"
You gazed down between your legs, and Mickey looked surprised. "Oh! What's this? What delicious little treat have I found here?"
He stroked your warm panties, edged them over. He brushed the tip of his thumb gently up and down, working into the folds, finding a slit to wet his finger. When he tasted the juice, his eyes disappeared, lost in a moment of pure pleasure.
"Open your legs a bit wider, baby. Show Daddy how wet you are. Mm, you're such a good girl. Always so happy to please me. I can't wait to go down between your beautiful thighs to get a taste."
"But?" You asked.
"But you know I have to tease you a bit more. Unless... you say please real nicely. You know I can't resist making my sweet girl feel good. Especially when her pussy is this fucking wet for me."