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.”
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In hindsight, you probably shouldn't have let Mickey chase the valium down with a six pack of beer and a bottle of Svedka, but you weren't exactly sober yourself. He had disappeared halfway into the concert and vomited through an entire set list in a grimy port-a-potty. But he caught a second wind on your way back to the car and managed to give you a piggy-back ride halfway across the fairground before you remembered you were parked on the other side.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, okay," he said as you struggled to hang onto him.
"Take me hoooome," you whined in his ear.
Mickey set you on your feet and tapped at his lower lip, muttering, "Think, think, think, think, think, think, think," as though it would help.
And then you were in the backseat of a car being driven by a couple of lesbian rocker chicks who were more than happy to give you two a ride home in exchange for the last of Mickey's coke. You didn't remember how you made it up the two flights of stairs to your apartment or what possessed you to dress one of the big stuffed bears Mickey bought you last Valentine's day in your bra and set it on top of the television, but that was the first thing that swam into view when you opened your eyes later.
You were laying on the couch, completely topless, and you could hear Mickey's panicked swearing from the bathroom. You heaved yourself up and wobbled to the door on rubber legs, grabbing the doorframe for support. Mickey was sprawled on the tile floor in his boxer shorts, and the whole bathroom seemed to be flooded from his attempt to cool himself off with the detachable showerhead without actually stepping into the tub. Now he was trying to sop up the water with a tiny pink crop top.
"Is that my shirt?" you asked.
"No," he said a little too insistently, realizing that maybe he should've been using a towel to mop up the mess rather than his girlfriend's laundry. "This... this is my shirt." As if to emphasize his point, he held the wet garment up to his chest. Screen printed cherries hovered over each of his hairy nipples.
You grabbed the edge of the sink as a fit of giggles seized you. Mickey decided to double down. "What? It's my shirt, babe!" he said. It took a few steadying breaths before you could speak again.
"Then why don't you put it on?" you managed to say. Mickey didn't even hesitate. He tried to pull the shirt on and quickly got his arms stuck straight above his head with the shirt smothering his face, unable to pull it down far enough to find the hole for his head. The wet fabric clung to his skin and his shoulders were way too broad for the petite cut.
"Babe!" he cried. "Babe, I'm stuck!"
You couldn't help it. You erupted with laughter even as you dropped to your knees on the wet bathroom floor, trying to get a purchase on the shirt as he kept flailing.
"Hold still, baby," you said in between bursts of giggles.
"Ohhhhhhhhhh," he groaned, and you knew he was primed to vomit again at any moment.
"Don't you dare throw up on my shirt, you drunk idiot!" You yanked the shirt off him with such force you went flying into the bathtub, landing with your legs dangling over the side.
"False alarm," Mickey said with a hearty belch. He pushed himself up and leaned against the bathtub, giving you a sheepish look. You worried your tongue piercing as you took in the mess on the floor and the state of the two of you.
"We gotta get sober, baby," you said, stretching out your hand to push a wet lock of hair off his forehead.
Mickey sighed softly, the mirth draining from his eyes. "I know."
I’d love a little somethin about making Mickey cum in his pants 🤤
His jeans did little to protect him from your rutting hips. A bulge pressed up against the zipper, growing by the second as you moaned against his lips and raked your nails down the back of his shirt. Mickey was so very fine-tuned, and you couldn’t help but take advantage of it once in a while. His whimpers were candy for your ears and the way he pushed up against you sent shocks zinging through your body.
He snatched his hips back, but your hand followed, frisking the crotch of his jeans until you knew for sure every bit of him stood hard and desperate. You rose your knee, and he threw his over, pressing himself against your thigh so he could rub against it.
“Mm, feels so good. Feels like I’m gonna... I’m gonna—”
“Are you going to make a mess?”
“Mm-hmm,” he whined. His eyes closed, jaw distended as a happy little moan left his bobbing throat. You could feel his hard-on throbbing, despite the many layers between. “Oh! I’m gonna come. Oh, baby, I’m gonna... I’m gonna come hard.”
“Do it. Make a mess, Mickey.”
His eyes rolled back, and you giggled as he crashed over his peak, arms wrapping around you while his hips continued to buck against your leg.
“Aw, did you make a nice big mess in your jeans, baby?”
His bottom lip drooped, and he nodded. “I came too soon again. I’m sorry.”
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.
Hello friends! I can’t believe it’s been so long since I’ve written a subby!mickey piece, but the inspiration for this second part hit over the weekend and I’m so glad it did because I’ve missed the big idiot A LOT. If you’re reading this, thank you for your support and I’d love to know your thoughts!🖤
Mickey had been checking his phone every twenty seconds ever since he sent his girl that video, anxiety beginning to bubble in his stomach when he noticed that she had read it, and that there was no reply. Part of him expected to hear the front door swing open, the clacking sound of heels filling the downstairs of the house before thudding steps made their way upstairs, but after an hour, there was still no sign of his girl, or of a reply.
He glanced at himself in the mirror, noticing that his eyebrows were furrowed and that his right leg was bouncing up and down. A small whine left him as he checked his phone once again, but there was nothing. Still naked, he sprang off the bed and began to pace up and down, phone still in hand as he made his way back and forth across the bedroom. He tried to hum a random tune to distract himself, shuffling his feet across the pristine carpet as he attempted his best moonwalk, resulting in a small friction burn as he collapsed back onto the bed and hurriedly tried to blow cold air onto the bottom of his feet.
Ding.
A scream almost left him as he swiftly grabbed his phone, the device flying into the air in slow motion as he tried to unlock it a little too enthusiastically. When it landed on the floor with a thud he threw himself down after it, eyes lighting up when he finally managed to access the text.
I miss you too, baby boy. Why don’t you come over to the office at lunch?
Mickey had never gotten dressed so quickly in all his life. He was still shoeless as he left the house, hopping on one foot as he tried to shove his boots on and tie the laces whilst making his way to the office. His hair was ruffled and the zipper on his jeans was undone as he bustled into the building where his girl worked, flashing a grin at the receptionist as his eyes darted around the lower floor, trying to hone in on the woman he was so desperate to see. Mickey was fully aware of the bemused glances he was receiving from his girl’s colleagues as they all made their way to the cafeteria for their lunch break, but he didn’t care, they weren’t the people he was trying to impress.
He had just began to flick through a company brochure when he felt a hand on his arm. A gentle, but characteristically firm grip. Immediately he flung the brochure down and set his eyes on her, gulping as he saw that look in her eyes. The one he hadn’t seen for a while, but the one he had been aiming for when he sent over his video earlier that morning.
“Come on, my office is this way.” Her voice was smooth, and she kept her hand on his arm as she led him to the elevator. Mickey could feel the buzzing sensation running through him as he happily followed her, gazing at the masses of buttons on the inner wall of the elevator that were practically screaming to be pushed.
“Don’t even think about it.” There was an air of amusement in her voice, but her brow was cocked, and Mickey knew it was best for him to comply. The doors began to close, so painfully slowly, and Mickey silently prayed that nobody was to interrupt their time together.
He was gazing upwards at the intricately decorated ceiling of the elevator when the doors finally closed, and was snapped out of his trance when he felt a body move against his, and a hand wrap around his throat. He was about to open his mouth to gush about how much he had missed his girl when he felt her leg press up against his crotch, her perfectly tailored pinstripe pantsuit starting to crease slightly as she applied more and more pressure, causing Mickey’s jeans to immediately tighten.
“Mommy.” His needy whine was music to her ears, and she carefully closed her hand around his throat, giving it a small squeeze before loosening her grasp to brush her thumb over his soft, plump lips.
“Save it for when we get to my office.” Though her tone was soft, Mickey noticed a glimmer of mischievousness in her eyes. He was panting already, the anticipation of what was to come making his heart thump in his chest, and the way his girl looked in her pristine pant suit only caused his heartbeat to become more erratic.
The elevator dinged as it reached the desired floor, and his girl gestured for Mickey to follow her once more as she weaved her way around multiple desks toward her office. Thankfully most of the workers were out for lunch, there were just a few tapping at their keyboards that gave him a knowing glance before turning back to their computer screens. Mickey walked closely behind his girl, watching as the red soles of her heels clacked against the floor, her glossy hair swishing from side to side as she strode towards the office at the corner of the floor.
She held the door open for him before letting it swing shut, her hands immediately reaching for the string to close the blinds that encased her office, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as they flitted shut, leaving Mickey at the mercy of the punishment he had spent all morning daydreaming about.
Mickey’s eyes were fixed on his girl as she moved over to her desk, leaning against it as she stood facing him, her eyes raking up and down him as she rolled up the sleeves of her jacket to her elbows. She breathed out through her nose, and Mickey could see the cogs turning in her mind as she considered each option, which would be most proportionate to his actions.
“Undress yourself.”
“Wha-”
“Do you really want me to repeat myself?”
“Can you at least turn the A/C off? You know he’s shy when I get cold.” Mickey gestured to his crotch and his girl snorted a little, reaching over to the dial to turn the A/C in her office off.
Mickey nodded and clutched the bottom of his sweater before raising it over his head, his hair ruffling even further as he wriggled his way out of the orange sweater, throwing it over the back of his girl’s desk chair before starting to unbuckle his belt. His girl watched him closely, admiring the way that his long fingers tugged at the belt buckle until it loosened, his hand curling around the leather material as he tugged it free of his jeans.
She took the belt off him, running her fingers up and down it as Mickey’s eyes widened.
“I didn’t tell you to stop.”
A blush started to spread across Mickey’s cheeks as he watched her toy with his belt while he pushed his zipper down, taking a deep breath before starting to shimmy out of his jeans. He pinched the waistband of his boxer shorts, the material becoming increasingly strained as he watched his girl’s teeth sink into her bottom lip while she wound the belt around her wrist, keeping a firm grip on the end of it.
Although he was nervous at the sight of his girl grasping his belt, the bratty streak that had plagued Mickey since he woke up that morning hadn’t disappeared, so a small smirk appeared on his own lips as he released the waistband of his boxer shorts and began to palm himself over the thin material, a guttural moan escaping from him as he felt a twitch, and then a small wet patch on the front of the strained underwear. He maintained eye contact with his girl, who seemed too shocked to react, her gaze quickly darting toward his large hand as he rolled it back and forth over his crotch.
“You like that, mommy?” Mickey’s voice was low and already thick with pleasure as he whimpered quietly, further attempting to provoke a reaction from his girl, who had remained frozen to the spot.
She took a deep breath, desperately trying to process the scene before her. It wasn’t often that Mickey was so explicitly bratty, but when he was, he went all the way. A large part of her knew that this was most likely down to the fact that it had been a while since she’d last dished out a punishment, so it was only fair that she too went all the way.
“Take them off, and bend over my desk.” Her voice was stern, and this time Mickey opted to obey her, pushing his boxer shorts down until they pooled at his ankles before striding over to her desk and bending over the cold, dark wood, his hands instinctively gripping onto the sides of the large desk as he heard the sound of his girl ridding herself of her jacket behind him.
“That’s right, so I get a good view of that pretty little ass.”
Mickey shivered as he felt her fingers ghost down his back, her perfectly manicured nails ever so slightly grazing against his skin as she travelled downwards toward the curve of his spine, taking a few moments to admire his peachy ass that was stuck up in the air.
“Did you like the video?”
She was surprised to hear Mickey pipe up once more, the cocky tone to his voice becoming more prominent as he further attempted to push at her boundaries.
“I did, sweet boy. But you know what I didn’t enjoy?” She grabbed his ass, the sudden movement making Mickey jolt as he felt her deliver a harsh squeeze.
“What didn’t you enjoy?” Mickey’s voice was now a mere squeak, the throbbing in both his ass and his cock beginning to make his vision hazy. He almost moaned as he felt his girl hover over his back, her chest pressed against his bare skin as leant down to press her lips against his ear.
“A breaking of the rules, which you know that I will not tolerate.” Something else was now running up and down the side of his thigh, only it wasn’t her hand. It was his belt.
Mickey wanted to respond, but as he parted his lips he found that he was unable to form a coherent sentence. He felt his girl move off him and stand up straight as she began to trace circular patterns across his ass with the end of the belt. There was a silence between them for a few seconds as she gathered her thoughts.
“I’m going to spank you four times, okay? And each time I want you to tell me which rule you broke, and that you promise never to do it again.”
Mickey nodded, already starting to pant.
“Tell me your word if you need me to stop.”
“Cantaloupe.”
She watched him tense slightly as he braced himself for the impact, and she gently coasted her hand across his soft skin, delivering a light tap to help ease him into the punishment. Mickey wiggled his ass in response, and she sucked in a deep breath.
Then, almost without warning, she delivered the first blow, the cracking sound of the belt mingling with Mickey’s yelp filled her office, echoing around the room as she studied the newly reddening patch on his ass. She was careful to be gentle, to not let herself get carried away. Though this was a punishment, she wanted Mickey to enjoy some sense of pleasure from it as after all, this was only the second time she had used something other than her own hand to spank him.
“I promise never to touch myself without mommy’s permission.” Mickey’s voice was more gravelly now, his teeth clenched as the stinging sensation began to ebb through the lower part of his body.
“That’s my good, sweet boy.” His girl purred in response, stroking over the welts that had begun to form as a result of her disciplining.
She repeated the process, and by the fourth and final smack Mickey was a mess, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as his knuckles whitened from gripping onto the desk so tightly. Small whimpers were emanating from him as his girl dropped the belt, satisfied with his repentance. She made sure to be mindful as she gently stroked her fingers over the crimson skin of his ass, bending down slightly to press a kiss between his shoulder blades as Mickey began to tremble.
“You did well, little one. I’m proud of you.” She spoke softer now, her voice muffled slightly as her lips were still partially flattened against the dip between his broad shoulders.
Mickey hummed in response, feeling as though his stomach had been glued to her desk as his body refused to allow him to move, the throbbing was continuing to flow, and every muscle in his body began to ache as he finally relaxed, pressing his damp cheek against a sheet of paper he hoped wasn’t important.
She allowed Mickey his own time to recover, watching as his eyes fluttered open and shut, every so often a twitch forming in his lower back which caused him to let out a soft, strangled groan. His girl made her way over to the front of her desk, resting her forearms in front of Mickey’s head as she lowered herself onto her knees before him. A grin immediately appeared on his lips as he noticed her presence, and he shuffled forwards to deliver a light kiss on her nose, extending his arms toward her so that he could stroke his thumb against her cheek. Her grin matched his as she felt his warmth against her face, and in that moment she decided to cancel the rest of her meetings for that day.
They spent another hour in her office, her hands starting to wander to other places on Mickey’s body as he remained perched on her workspace, the stinging pain in his ass soon overridden by a much greater sensation. They could have remained in her office for the rest of the day, exchanging kisses (amongst other things), but by that time Mickey’s stomach had begun to grumble. After all, he had come to her office under the pretence of eating lunch.
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an idea I had because of your Mickey thoughts: what if he kept misbehaving, so his girlfriend decided to have him wear a cock cage for a day? he can't touch himself, but it's all he can think about all day. when she gets home, he's a mess, but she can't resist the temptation to tease him. he's being punished, after all. when she finally frees him, he practically pounces on her.
Ohhhh sweet anon this idea is so delicious. Lets buckle up for some more subby Mickey.
A continuation of this drabble:
Mickey’s words echoed in her ears, the promise of him being on his best behaviour was almost enough to break her.
“You want to be a good boy?” Her voice was low, and Mickey could tell she meant business, so he nodded continually, his head bobbing up and down as his eyes glittered.
“Then you’ll wait until morning. I have a surprise waiting for you.”
When she turned over to resume her slumber Mickey’s jaw dropped, and he let out a groan, pawing at her arm once more in a last attempt to beg her for some form of stimulation.
“Mickey. Go to sleep.” Her tone was cold, but Mickey wasn’t thinking with his brain. His cock ached as it had done for almost a week, and he was determined to get a rise out of her.
“Please, mommy.”
She whipped round in an instant, her eyes ablaze as she grabbed a hold of his cheeks and let out a small growl. If Mickey wanted to defy her, that was fine. But he’d have to deal with the consequences that came with this defiance.
Mickey’s cheeks flushed, and he swallowed hard, waiting for her to reprimand him so he could feel something. But she knew Mickey too well, she could feel his bulge against her ass and knew that this act of disobedience was purposeful. So, once again she turned her back to him, allowing for her rage to simmer, as she knew that come morning, Mickey would receive his punishment.
-
When she awoke Mickey was laid on his back, head turned so he could gaze at her. She had to stifle a giggle when she saw the tent shape around his crotch, the sheet covering Mickey’s lower half was almost lifted up completely. When Mickey noticed she was awake he gazed at her imploringly, his bottom lip sticking out ever so slightly. She smirked, Mickey had no idea what he was in for.
“I want you to go take a cold shower. As cold as you can manage.” She murmured, reaching a hand over to run her fingers through his soft hair as he frowned.
Mickey parted his lips to respond, to grumble, but when she cocked her brow he decided to remain silent and comply. He rose out of bed, shimmying his boxers down to his ankles and letting out a small sigh at the relief, the material had been constraining his cock all night.
“He feels claustrophobic now.” Mickey mumbled, gazing down at his erection to ensure that there was no lasting damage.
She chuckled, propping herself up on her elbows to allow for a better view. “I need you soft, Mickey, okay?”
Mickey scoffed.
“I mean it. Today will only work if you’re soft, can you do that for me?”
Mickey nodded and strode over to the bathroom, and the several yelps she heard indicated to her that he was following her instructions. Good. While Mickey was distracted she took the chance to drag out her box from under the bed, the box that contained the latest toy she had purchased for Mickey.
She held the cock cage in her hand, it was heavy, but nothing that Mickey couldn’t handle. This time she’d take it easy on him, selecting the largest cuff ring to hold his balls, and ensuring she had a hefty amount of lube at hand.
When Mickey returned she was stood by the bedroom door, eager to introduce him to their new toy. She removed the towel that was hanging loosely around his waist, tossing it into the corner of the room to inspect if he had managed to keep it down.
“I’m impressed. Turns out you can be a good boy after all, huh?” She smiled at him, he had managed to keep his cock flaccid, perfect.
Mickey reciprocated her smile, relieved to be receiving her praise. He took deep breaths, keeping his gaze fixed on the wall opposite him, he knew if he looked at her for even a second it’d be game over.
“Come sit on the bed, baby boy.” She purred, guiding him over to the edge of the bed and sitting him with his legs splayed as she knelt between his knees. Mickey’s eyes widened in alarm, and he held his breath as his fists bunched up the bedsheets.
“F-fuck.” He whispered, the vein on the left side of his head was becoming more and more prominent as he refused to let his gaze fall on the women knelt mere inches away from his aching cock.
When he heard the sound of the cap flipping off the bottle of lube, Mickey felt the ache intensify, and he silently prayed that he wouldn’t need to keep this up, or down for that matter, much longer. Mickey’s eyes then trailed further up the bed, where he saw a metal ring, and then next to it more rings, but in the form of a cage, in the shape of his-
“Ohhhhh, fuck.” He couldn’t help but whine as he felt her lube-coated fingers ghost along his cock, careful not to hold him too tightly as she smeared a generous amount of lube onto him.
“Mickey, look at me.” His gaze fell on her in an instant, his eyes brimming as his knuckles turned white, his grip on the sheets becoming tighter.
“Tell me your word.”
“Cantaloupe.”
She nodded and took hold of the cuff, carefully easing his balls into it one at a time. Mickey was already breathing heavily, the sensation of her fingers against his balls made his hips buck slightly. She clicked her tongue.
“That’s one extra hour in the cage.” She placed a light kiss on the inside of Mickey’s knee as his bottom lip quivered.
He had to close his eyes as she eased his cock into the steel structure, his breath hitching in his throat as he heard her lock the cage. She raised herself to her feet, cocking her head to one side as she assessed her handiwork.
“This is what happens when you disobey me, sweetheart. Your little episode last night means you’ll wear this today, all day.” A large smirk formed on her lips as she watched the shockwaves run through Mickey, his eyes darting between her and the cage as he felt the blood begin to rush to his cock.
That same sensation stuck with him throughout the day. He had clamped his teeth together, his jaw almost locking in place as the pain coursed through his lower half. His cock was pressed against the top of the cage, his skin trapped against the cold metal as he hissed, and for the first time he was desperate to be able to have a hard on. He snaked his hand around the cage, but this was futile. It was locked in place, with no way for him to move it or to hold himself. The cuff holding his balls made him squirm, the restrictive device making him long for her return.
Mickey had thought that getting dressed may help, that his boxer shorts may alleviate some of the pressure, but he was wrong. His jeans only seemed it worse, the material was tight against his crotch, making the rings of the cage visible and his frustration grow further.
Even pacing didn’t work, walking was almost painful as the cage slid downwards slightly each time he took a step, which made the sensation of the cuff pressing against his balls even more unbearable. Despite Mickey flicking through every television channel and every social media feed, he could only think of one thing. He thrust his head against the back of the couch where he had positioned himself, his mind racing at the thought of having his cock in his girlfriend’s hands once again. Once he had begun to fantasize, he couldn’t stop; his memory served him well as he thought of her wrapping her hand around him. One hand on his cock, the other tightly grasping at his throat as she twisted her palm and fingers around him at an agonizingly slow pace.
Mickey wasn’t sure if it was possible for him to orgasm while in the cage, but it sure felt like that’s where he was headed.
Just as he thought he could feel his balls begin to tighten he heard the front door close, indicating that she had finally returned, and he sprang up. When she saw him she couldn’t help but smile. Mickey’s thighs were quivering, his cheeks flushed as he lowered himself down onto his knees.
“Please, I’m sorry. I’ll be a good boy, just give me another chance.” He began to beg, clasping his hands together as he let out a small sob, but she was not about to relent, not now.
Instead, she backed herself against the wall, hitching her skirt up to give Mickey a full view of her naked lower half. She pressed her thumb against her clit and felt her knees buckle, the pressure was heavenly and she could feel her arousal begin to pool around her entrance. Mickey let out a soft cry, his eyes welling up as she shuffled himself closer to her. The sight in front of him made the cage insufferable, his cock was throbbing and he could feel the beginnings of pre-cum leak out of the cage as she used her thumb to rub circles onto her clit, small moans leaving her as she kept her eyes on Mickey.
Teasing Mickey was one of her favourite parts of their dynamic. She adored the way he trusted her, his willingness to try new toys, and how easy it was to get him worked up into such a state as he was in now. His hands had latched onto her ankles as he began to press kisses onto the top of her shoes, between each kiss he’d whine and tighten his grip on her.
She knew Mickey well, and she knew when he was nearing his breaking point.
She was careful when guiding him up to their bedroom, taking each step of the stairs as slowly as possible with Mickey latched onto her arm, letting out a small sniffle as they reached the top of the staircase. He didn’t need a command when they entered the bedroom, he unbuckled his belt at godspeed, his fingers gripping onto both waistbands of his jeans and boxers as he yanked them down at the same time. Through the rings of the cage she could still see that Mickey’s cock was red, the skin inflamed from spending hours upon hours pressed against the curved steel bars. She dug her hand into her pocket, and Mickey’s heart skipped a beat when she produced the key.
“I don’t want anymore disobedience, baby. One single word out of line and I’ll use the cage again, understood?”
Before she had even finished her sentence Mickey was emphatically nodding, shuffling himself closer to her to prompt her to release him. She smiled and bent down, turning the key in the lock and gently easing his cock out of the cage. Once she had removed the whole device Mickey’s erection slapped against his stomach and he fell backwards onto the bed, panting as he reached out a hand to stroke his throbbing cock.
“Ah ah ah.” She took hold of his wrist and directed his hand away from temptation, causing Mickey to screw his eyes shut.
“You wouldn’t want me to get the cage back out again, would you baby boy?”
Mickey would wake up in the early hours of the morning, perhaps 2/3am with a throbbing ache. He’d roll onto his back, licking over his lips as his brain replayed the fucking amazing dream he’d been graced with. Mickey fluttered his eyes closed, trying to force himself back into a slumber in a futile attempt to resume the dream before he was startled awake by the raging hard on his subconscious had caused.
A small groan would leave his lips when his body rendered him wide awake. He’d pout his lips and turn on his side, a hint of moonlight creeping in through the bedroom curtains allowing him a view of your silhouette next to him, chest rising and falling as your lips parted ever so slightly.
Mickey knew why the dream had occurred. It was all down to four days ago, when you’d popped out to buy some supplies for a movie night, and Mickey was left unattended on the couch, twiddling his thumbs as he eagerly awaited your return.
I shouldn’t.
He thought, his eyes scanning around the room as he attempted to find a task to occupy himself with. He stood up, sauntering around the living room for a few minutes, whistling a quiet tune as he picked up an old magazine, making a half assed attempt at flicking through the pages before launching it back onto the pile and tapping his foot, his index finger resting on his bottom lip as he reverted back to his age-old habit of biting his fingernails.
Mickey knew why he was feeling so restless. It was the dress you had changed into before you left, making it abundantly clear to him that you had no panties on, and fully intended to do a full shop commando while he was stuck at home, flicking through crummy old magazines and staring at the clock. He didn’t know how much more waiting he could take. He remembered how you’d bent over to pick up your purse, making sure to push your feet apart and give him a full view of the slick of arousal that was forming. Mickey groaned. The more he thought about it, the more edgy he became, but the more he tried to push it out of his mind, the harder the thoughts fought him.
A small huff left his lips, and he strode back over to the couch and launched himself onto it, his eyes immediately connecting with the large bulge present in his jeans. He knew there was only thing for it. He shoved his hands under his ass and sat on them, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as his right leg began to bounce at a rapid pace.
It felt like an hour had passed, but when Mickey gazed at his phone the clock almost mocked him. Two minutes. He couldn’t control his hands as they moved out from under him, edging their way over to his belt buckle as they began to undo it, the clinking sound echoing around the room causing Mickey to gulp.
He tossed his head from side to side, scoping around the room for a just in case. He was forbidden to pleasure himself without you, but the pent up feeling of pure, unadulterated horniness was eating away at him. Before he knew it he was shimmying his blue denim jeans down to his ankles, a tent shape appearing in his boxers along with a small stain of pre-cum.
Mickey closed his eyes and pulled his boxers down to his mid thighs, a large gasp leaving him as he felt his erection slap against his stomach. He rose his hand up his mouth and gathered as much saliva in his cheeks as possible before releasing it onto the palm of his right hand. His hand moved slowly down to his cock, taking a hold of it firmly, causing his pelvis to instinctively roll. Mickey began to move his hand in a clockwise direction, his left hand cupping his balls as a string of groans and whimpers left him as he panted, his hips twitching as his hand connected with his crimson tip. Mickey was so caught up in his own pleasure that the sound of your key turning in the front door didn’t register with him, but the sounds of his mewls and curses absolutely registered with you.
“Well well well.” You raised your eyebrow and tutted. Upon hearing your voice Mickey sprang into action, his cheeks flushed as he tried to pull his underwear and jeans up the same time, cursing quietly as his jeans got stuck around his knees.
“Shit, I mean. Fuck.”
“I mean, I’m sorry baby.” Mickey blurted out once he had finally managed to appropriately dress his lower half, the bulge still very much visible underneath the various material constraints.
“What am I going to do with you?” You pretended to ponder over this, when in reality you knew exactly what you were going to do to Mickey, Punish him.
So now here he was, lied in bed with an irresistible urge as you slept soundly next to him. His hand twitched, and for a moment the thought crossed his mind, but he shook his head and silently reprimanded himself. He couldn’t get into trouble again.
Instead, he pawed at your arm gently, pressing a kiss below your ear as he whimpered quietly into it, giving you a quiet indicator of his current state. You let out a small groan rubbed your eyes, Mickey’s puppy dog expression causing you to giggle as you were still stuck in your sleepy haze, and his pouting lips along with his wide eyes were all too amusing. You then felt it against your hip as Mickey gave a small thrust, his bottom lip poking out further as he gazed at you imploringly.
When Mickey’s had a rough day his girl would run him a nice hot bubble bath, dimming the lights and placing a few of her scented candles around the edge of the bathtub. She’d help him undress and then lather her mud mask over his face while he’s lied in the tub (with his legs sticking out, of course). Once he’d started to relax she’d quietly tread her way downstairs to the kitchen and make him a hot cocoa in his favourite mug with extra whipped cream and marshmallows, then carefully tread back up the stairs to the bathroom, taking extra precautions to safeguard her carpet from any possible spillages on the short journey.
When she returned to the bathroom they’d sit in silence as Mickey sipped at his hot cocoa- but not an awkward silence, a comfortable one. She knew that once Mickey was ready, he’d confide in her, she’d never press him over his anxieties when he was feeling small. After he’d finished his cocoa she’d grab her flannel, roll up the sleeves of her blouse, and start to gently rinse off the mud mask, peppering light kisses over his cheeks and nose between rinses.
“Can you help me wash my hair? I didn’t get chance this morning.” Mickey would murmur, breaking the silence and gazing up at her as she wrung out her flannel.
She’d massage the shampoo into his scalp as Mickey closed his eyes, revelling in the feeling of her hands running through his hair as his lips parted, a little grunt leaving him as she moved her fingers in circular motions around his hairline. Once a few minutes had passed she’d cup the back of his head as he slid down the bathtub, using her other hand to shield his eyes as she began to rinse out the shampoo, taking extra time to ensure that all of the suds had disappeared from his hair before helping him sit back up.
When she had finished washing his hair she’d grab a freshly washed, fluffy white towel as he stepped out of the bath, long legs swinging out of the tub as water dripped down onto the tiled floor. Although his frame was much taller than hers, she began to rub the towel over his body, standing on her tiptoes as she dried over his neck and shoulders. Mickey would chuckle, resting his hands on her waist and stooping down slightly to place a kiss on the top of her head. They would stand like this for a while, until Mickey began to shiver, droplets from his hair seeping into her blouse as he pressed his body against hers, willing her to stay close to him just a little longer as everything around them seemed to melt away.
