softmick - Tumblr blog

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Miss me? Mickey?

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"but she hit her with a car" cute aggression

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I WILL BE GOOD AS LONG AS YOU WANT ME, 1/28/24

image from wikimedia commons

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ian never comes harder than when mickey is crying - from overstimulation or gagging or a little pain, desperation, emotional release, etc - and develops a pavlovian response that is entirely inappropriate at sad movies, births, funerals, or any time mickey is overwhelmed.

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Maybe #6 ...on a falling tear.

But maybe smut 😅

Ahem. Um. Yes.

Putting this under a read more cut for obvious reasons 😶

6. ...on a falling tear (but definitely smut)

It’s Ian’s day off, the house is empty, the vibrating anal beads they splurged on finally arrived in the mail, and they're having a great time.

It’s obvious, from the way Ian is grinning wide, eyes sparkling, laughter huffing from his lungs, that he’s enjoying this. 

Mickey’s enjoying it too, of course. It’s just that he expresses joy a bit differently than most people. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck you, fuck you, Ian, gonna fucking kill you, fuck.”

Ian laughs again, and his warm breath puffing against Mickey’s spit soaked nipple gets an interesting response, so he follows it up by pursing his lips and blowing out a long, cool stream of air.

“Fuck. Ian,” Mickey whines, voice keening and plaintive once more. 

It’s one of the many, many things Ian loves about his husband: the way his mood flips on a dime even during sex, especially during sex, how he’ll go from growling threats to pathetic pleading to blabbering praises and back again.

“So good, it’s so good, Ian, please, love you, you're so good.”

“Yeah? You like this, baby?” Ian pulls back to get a better view of Mickey’s face. It's quite the sight to behold: skin flushed and brows furrowed and mouth swollen and slick, plush lower lip bitten hard by one sharp little canine tooth. 

Mickey tips his head back against the pillow. Shakes it frantically. “No, I don’t fucking like this, I hate this, fuck, I hate you.”

“Oh? You don’t like this?” Ian hums. Rubs one big hand soothingly up and down Mickey’s heaving chest. “Hm. Maybe we oughta try a different setting, then.”

“Wait–”

Mickey’s eyes fly open just in time to see Ian grin as he presses the button on the remote.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck, Ian, Ian, please–”

“Please what? Put it higher?”

Ian presses another button without waiting for an answer. Watches in awe as Mickey’s back arches, as his muscles tense, limbs straining against the restraints, as his cock jerks untouched against his stomach, come dribbling down to join the other spatters in varying states of drying.

Ian clicks the remote again. Drops the strength to the lowest setting, switches the pulse pattern to something steady and predictable.

Mickey sobs, just once, and Ian’s grin widens. 

When Mickey cries during sex, that means Ian is doing his job really, really well. 

It’d freaked him out the first time. Made him panic. Made him think he’d hurt Mickey in a way he hadn’t intended to.

But that was years ago.

Nowadays, making Mickey cry is one of Ian’s favorite activities.

“So good, baby,” he gushes, leaning in to kiss Mickey’s forehead. “You’re doing so good. You were fucking made for this, Mickey. Made to be tied up and pleasured and used all day long.”

Ian can physically feel Mickey’s skin heat up against his lips. Can feel him shudder and shake. Can feel him nod, just a tiny, jerky little motion. 

Ian pulls back again, wanting to drink in the sight of him, wanting to see it forever and ever and ever. “Fuck, baby. I should take a fucking picture. Actually, I should just keep you like this 24/7.”

Mickey’s breath stutters, his eyes fluttering open to peer up at Ian blearily, the tiniest little noise clawing from his throat. 

Ian smiles softly at him. Brings a hand up to cup his face and swipe at his tears with his thumb. “You want that, baby? Yeah. Maybe you’re right about not needing a job. Maybe I should just keep you tied up like this all day instead, ready for me to use whenever I want. Would be a great stress relief, after a long day of work. ‘Course, some days I’d be too tired to fuck you, but that’s okay. I can just leave you like this, right?”

Mickey whines in protest. Shakes his head. 

“Shh, it’s okay, Mick. I’m just teasing,” he soothes, ducking down again to kiss the fresh tear rolling down Mickey’s cheek. “I’d never be able to leave you completely untouched. I’d have to do something. Something like this, maybe.”

He clicks the remote again, ramping the vibrations back up to level five, switching the pattern to an unyielding bzzzzzzzzzz.

“Fuck!”

Ian laughs. Palms at his own dick, just to take a bit of the pressure off. “We’re almost done, babe. Promise.”

“Yeah?” Mickey pants, melting a bit in relief even as his wrists flex against the leather cuffs fruitlessly.

“Ian! Fuck, fuck you, please please please, I need you, I love you, Ian–”

“Yeah,” Ian assures him. “Just gonna make you come one more time with these in.” He pauses. Cocks his head. “Well, and then of course I’ll have to pull these out of you, one by one, and fuck knows how many times you’ll come during that. Plus, I’m obviously going to have to fuck you at least once. Maybe twice. I’m feeling pretty worked up, y’know?”

This time, Mickey comes with a high pitched whine and a steady stream of tears.

Oh yeah. They are definitely having fun.

send me a number~

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Tyler Knott Gregson. Wildly into the Dark: Typewriter Poems and the Rattlings of a Curious Mind

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kiss prompt: Gallavich and 36 :)

Send me a number and I’ll write a gallavich kiss 👄

36. - - to give up control (you know what episode could have had some really beautiful ian and mickey moments and didn't because fuck the writers? this one)

It plays on your mind while Lip and Debbie bitch about selling the house, while Debbie makes shitty assumptions about gay guys, while you stand with a cup of coffee in each hand because Mickey's upstairs crying over his shitty, dead dad.

And it's really fucking hard. It's hard to sympathise and it's hard to actually give a fuck, because it's Terry. It's fucking Terry, and you don't know why Mickey's crying or why he gives a shit, and you genuinely believe him when he says he doesn't know either.

So you pour him a cup of coffee and head back upstairs.

He's dressed, shoving things into his pockets before sitting down and grabbing his boots.

"Got you a coffee."

He doesn't look up. "Thanks."

You place it on the nightstand and watch him do up his boots, hands and fingers moving quickly. "Goin' somewhere?"

"Next door."

You know the face you make is mixture of confused, disgusted, and outright exasperated. "Why?"

"Someone's gotta sort out that shit," he says, not looking at you. "No one else is gonna do it."

"Doesn't mean you have to."

"Kinda does." He sits up straight and rubs his hands over his thighs. "No one else gives a shit. Not sure I do, either, but ..."

"But?"

"Dunno." He glances at you out of the corner of his eye and then says it again. "Don't fuckin' know."

He stands and moves to go, and you stupidly let him get all the way to the door before stopping him.

"Wait a minute. I'll come."

"Ain't got time for your bullshit right now, Gallagher."

And it's his tone and his words and the way he won't meet your gaze that makes you realise ... well, everything.

"I'm sorry," you say. He shrugs, and you push on. "No, I am. If there's one thing the mandated therapy in prison taught me it's that my feelings are valid, and so are yours."

He snorts. "Yeah, okay, Dr. Phil."

You place your own coffee cup down and walk towards him. "I don't get it, okay? Terry was a piece of shit who fucked us up too many times to count, who hurt you in ... in a lot of ways."

His jaw clenches at your words that say everything all while saying nothing, but you soldier on. You reach out and tangle your fingers with his.

"I don't understand why you're upset about him being dead, but I do know what it's like to be the only one who gives a shit." You tug this hand until he looks up, meets your gaze. "Someone died and you have a lot of fucked-up feelings that no one else feels and ... I get that. Okay? I understand that."

He tongues at his cheek, and then, "Monica?"

You shrug and nod, but don't say anything else about it. This isn't about Monica and it's not about you. It's about Mickey, and you don't need to understand what he's feeling or why he's feeling it. You just need to be there for him.

He sniffs. "I gotta head next door."

"Let me come."

"You don't have to, man -"

"I want to." You squeeze his hand. "I want to help you. Let me help you."

"Ian -"

"You don't have to do this alone, Mick."

He looks at you and nods, just once, real quick. "Okay."

"Okay."

He searches your eyes for a moment, then leans up and gives you a quick kiss. "Thanks."

You smile. Kiss his forehead. Let him lead the way.

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Mandy Milkovich (2.0) in every episode.

∟2.01 “Summertime”

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Mickey Milkovich | 11.01

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Mickey Milkovich smiling while kissing his husband

requested by @bazgallaghermilkovich

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Ian had been going full speed the past couple of weeks. He had been taking more shifts as an EMT to help save money for moving out of his childhood home. Ian and his husband Mickey had put a deposit on an apartment outside the Southside. They wouldn’t be far from Ian’s family,but far enough away they could live their own lives. Ian had been moving boxes over to the new apartment during the day and working at night. He had assured Mickey he was fine and was on top of everything. Ian knew Mickey worried about him when he worked at night.

That morning Ian was up bright and early. He was making bagel and egg sandwiches. Mickey was still sleeping on the air mattress. The bed frame and the mattress was supposed to be delivered today. Ian needed to go to the store to get sheets and comforters and other house stuff. Ian finishes breakfast,carrying two paper plates into where mickey was sleeping. “Good morning mick. I made breakfast.” Ian smiles placing the plate on the floor next to Mickey. Ian carefully opens the blinds letting in the light. Ian places a gentle kiss on the dark haired boys head.

@in-a-lot-of-fandoms-i-lost-count

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defending all three of them with my life every day

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Gallavich s3 cause they are EVERYTHING

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Holler if you need me. Sure...

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💚🩵

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SHAMELESS CREATORS NETWORK APRIL THEME: TWO BY TWO