heymrspatel

[heymrspatel]

Mickey Milkovich, Shameless 3×02

#his eyelashes oh god oh lord oh jeez oh fuck

[heymrspatel]

warm orange windows and blue night in the background save me. save me warm orange windows and blue night

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"A little biting never hurt nobody." pwease & ty 🖤

"A little biting never hurt nobody."

Lip and Tammi are staying in their guest room for a few days while something gets figured out at their new place. Something gas-related. Ian doesn't get it fully, but he doesn't need to. All he knows is he's not about to let his brother blow money they could be using on that on a hotel or AirBnB.

After only a minimal amount of coercion, Mickey agrees to host them. And now that they're well on their way to their fifth day of cohabitation, he's more than comfortable with having those two around again. It's like old days, but better. Because this time it's his and Mickey's own home, and this time they'll eventually be getting out of their hair.

So Mickey's adjusted. Very well. Maybe a little too well.

While Lip and Tami are going over something at the dining room table a few feet away, they're stretched out on the couch, good and cozy with something flickering on the TV.

Mickey's practically in his lap he's so comfortable - a normal position for him when they're alone, and finally making its appearance again now that Mickey's adjusted to people being in his space. Fuck, he's so at ease from that wine at dinner that he's even got a little nibble going on, soothing himself with a soft, mindless graze of his teeth over Ian's knuckle. They do this sometimes, his big hand rests against the bottom half of his mouth. Almost like he's a step away from covering it.

It's not all that crazy. Ian almost doesn't say anything. But a brief moment of awareness has him second-guessing. In protection mode of Mickey's peace, as always.

"Hey..." he says very quietly down to him, "...you care that you're doin' that...? Around them...?"

What he's doing seems to register in Mickey's brain then too, his teeth relaxing from a gentle bite. He pulls his head away to look up at him, expression easy. "There somethin' wrong with it...?"

And, "No," Ian insists, "course not..." It is routine for them, after all. He just knows how Mickey is. Doesn't want him to feel weird, is all - if a certain brother of his noticed and decided to make a stupid comment about it.

"Little bitin' never hurt nobody," Mickey murmurs then. And it's all Ian needs to hear to soothe his concern, a lazy smile working to his lips to match his husband's.

At the dining room table, the discussion is starting to heat up a bit.

But on the couch, Mickey slips right back into business. Grabs Ian's wrist and helps his hand back into place over his mouth so he can nibble on the knuckle of his pointer finger for good measure.

It's calming for him. Ian knows that. But what really surprised him over the years is how calming it is for himself too. The warmth of Mickey's mouth. The light touch of his tongue every once in a while. The easy pressure, his fears of getting his finger bit off subsiding long ago, even when he needs to bite a little harder.

He likes it. And Mickey likes it. They both like it. And they're in their own house on their own couch, so of course they're gonna do it! Mickey is so right.

The episode ends. Another begins, blasting them right away with a raunchy scene of sweaty, grinding bodies.

And it's not like they haven't been having sex while Lip and Tammi are here. They've definitely been having sex while Lip and Tammi are here. It's just that they haven't been able to honor their full potential - haven't had the space to just go apeshit - another one of their routines, but this one filled from top to bottom with creaking furniture and loud, nasty moaning.

It's their house, but that shit is just for them. So they're refraining. For now. Which means when the guy on the screen lets out a throaty moan, the camera panning over his sweaty back, Ian feels that shit right in his dick.

He's not the only one. He can feel Mickey's tongue dart out along his finger down there, tracing along it just a touch too purposefully for it to be considered mindless and soothing.

Ian lets it go. Lets him do it. Lets the moment play out on the TV, the scene feeling like it's reached the ten minute mark holy fuck, Netflix just kinda lets anything fly these days, huh?

When the camera breaks away into a different location - different people - the relief that should come with it never lands. Because they may have entered a different scene, but Mickey's settled into this new vibe and seems good and comfortable in it, his lips parting to suck lightly into the side of Ian's finger - warm and wet and pleasant.

"Mick..." he says, quiet enough that it's just for them again.

But he doesn't really know what he's saying, to be honest.

Because now that they're here - now that those lips are dragging heavily over his finger until reaching the tip, and then wrapping around and taking the whole thing into his mouth - fuck, it feels good. He maybe doesn't need it to stop, actually. This is okay.

It's their house and their couch and if his husband wants to suck on his fingers, of course he's going to! Mickey is so right.

So Ian lets him, enjoying the little thrills that uncurl in his belly as Mickey's licks between two of them and then lets them sit heavily in his mouth.

It's not a new sensation by any means, but Ian's always taken away by how fucking good it feels. Mickey's tongue is so soft... So warm... So wet and welcoming as it gently laps over the pads of his fingers, just like it does when his mouth is a little lower.

Another swirl of interest, working down through his belly and between his legs this time...

Fuck...

Okay, maybe they should stop actually. Before Ian hauls him off to bed for one of those extra loud and nasty fucks they've been keeping under wraps.

But Mickey looks so hot when he tilts his head to look up at him, his eyes pretty and heavy-lidded while he quietly sucks to the tip of Ian's fingers, and then flattens his tongue and drags it purposefully up the underside of them, spreading tingles in Ian's hand and Ian's lap.

"Jesus..."

Mickey arches a lazy eyebrow at him. Smirks as he presses his lips to Ian's wet, glistening fingers. 'You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?' without a single word.

And yeah. They're definitely on the same page, the couch groaning beneath them as they both get to their feet, trying their best to act natural.

Or - well, Ian is at least. Mickey doesn't give a fuck.

"We're uh..." Ian motions toward the back of the house, not even pulling his brother's attention, "We're just-"

"They don't give a fuck," Mickey insists, and then starts directing Ian into the hallway with helpful shoves. "Come on."

Once their bedroom door closes, the biting gets a little harder.

[ send me a smutty one-liner ]

#i read this on the train on the way to work and for what?! i was out of commission for most of the morning because this DID THINGS TO ME #something about them being so comfortable and mickey being soothed by ian's hand on his face and his fingers in his mouthhhuuhhh #look. i am... a simple creature. #i read certain words in a certain order and i'm gone. that entire couch scene were the right words in the right order. #'But Mickey looks so hot when he tilts his head to look up at him' HELLO?????? #'his eyes pretty and heavy-lidded while he quietly sucks to the tip of Ian's fingers' FUCK YOU HELLO?????? #I'VE BEEN A WRECK ALL DAY I TELL YOU! #also everyone say thaaaank youuu raaayyy for giving us so much!

[heymrspatel]

"i told you, you would eventually start begging" :iancheeky:

"I told you, you would eventually start begging." + "Come on, please, do it" (from anon)

Ian may be the love of his whole life, but god damn is he a stubborn bitch.

Mickey's known this about him since the day they met. And even now, a decade later, this man is still sticking to his guns, yappin' about how he's in complete control when it comes to their sex life - how he'd never, ever, evvvver stoop to having to plead for something in bed, let alone beg. All those times it's happened in the past were just an illusion, apparently. Something he's never done.

Ian's a stubborn motherfucker.

And the only one worse than him is Mickey.

Ian groans in frustration, his top half squirming where he's been bound at the wrists and tied up to the top of their headboard.

No touching. No manhandling to get his way.

If he wants something, he's gonna have to use his words.

"Ugh...Mickey..."

From his leisurely slouch over his lap, Mickey grins up at him. That's right. It's starting. "Lookin' a little antsy there, Tough Guy..." he teases, "There somethin' you wanna say to me?"

Because he's gonna have to. Mickey's tied him up and turned him on without even touching him. And now they play the waiting game, Ian's cock hard and red and damn near twitching as Mickey makes a loose circle with his fingers, barely even brushing over him with each slow, teasing hover up and down.

He's showing him what could be. If he tightened his hold. If he was actually stroking over him and not just pretending with feather light touches.

He's playing dirty and he knows it and it's driving Ian fucking insane.

"Mickey..." he huffs, his hips trying to chase after it but getting nothing - just fucking up into the air as he bucks. It took a while to get here, but the wait was definitely worth it. "Fuck - I fuckin' hate you..."

Mickey grins. "No ya don't." That's funny though. Poor guy. "You're just finally realizing how much you need me, ain'tchya?"

Another sway of his hips upward, and then Ian's bottom half is collapsing back into the mattress, his frustration clear. "Why the fuck are you doing this to me..."

But, "Ain't doin' shit to you, sweetheart," Mickey says and it's true. "Told ya exactly what you need to do to get it, didn't I?"

"Ugh-"

"Didn't I?"

Ian exhales loudly, his head falling backwards to lean against the headboard. Stubborn bitch.

That's fine. Mickey's got all night.

And it's about time he ups the ante anyway.

The pop of their bed springs as Mickey leans over his lap has Ian looking back down, his strung out curiosity getting the best of him.

And fuck, the way he watches with those blown pupils... How his lips part in a heavy breath, waiting as Mickey makes a show out of letting drool pool and then drip right onto the head of his cock... Christ, you'd think his spit has some kinda magical powers or something.

"Oh..." Ian breathes out, from high up in his lungs. "Shit..."

They both watch it dribble down the side of his aching dick, and Mickey just knows that shit feels crazy right now. The tease of something wet and warm tracing all the way down to his balls, but never giving any pressure like he wants. A little prep, but for what?

Ian's cock pulses between them. The chain of his restraints pulls above his head. And oh...his tiny voice... "...Mick..."

"Mm...?" Mickey hums, smart enough not to fall for the change in his tone right away. He's known to do this. Ian's stubborn and greedy, but he's also a manipulative little brat if he thinks it'll get him what he wants.

So Mickey waits... Slips the loose ring of his fingers back up and away, so loose that he doesn't even get spit on them.

"Mick..." Again. Small, again. "I don't hate you...like I said I do..."

Mickey doesn't look up at him. Doesn't need to see those big faux doe eyes right now. "I know that, darlin'..."

"I don't-..." he shifts against the bed, fighting the way his hips try to buck up into nothing as Mickey blows a stream of warm air into his lap, getting his spit to glisten. "I love you..."

He's doing a decent job at trying to baby his way out of this. Sounds all cute and innocent and everything. Mickey could really fall for it and give him everything he wants, if he didn't hear the desperation in the fringes of his voice like that when he says it.

"Love when you touch me..."

Mickey can't help the grin that pulls to his face - knowing and amused. There it is. "That right?"

"Love it-..." he shifts on the bed again, trying to get himself closer to some friction. "Love when you jerk me o-....oh fuck..."

Ian's mouth drops open for good as Mickey drools all over his cock again, his eyebrows lifting with his heavy blink.

It's hot, Mickey's gotta admit. Even if it's torture.

Probably because it's torture.

A moment of silence, filled with heavy breaths as they both watch Mickey's spit drip down the side of his cock. He can practically hear his heart hammering away from here, poor guy...

Ian's chest rises as he fills his lungs, pressing the side of his face into his elevated bicep. It's to hide his groan of desperation, probably, but there's simply not enough coverage. "Come on..."

Any time now. "'Come on' what...?"

"Mickey..." He buries further into his arm, clearly trying to save face. But... "Please..." he finally begs. "Please - just fucking do it..."

It's got a rush of victory sweeping through Mickey's chest. Because there it is. Fucking finally. "Ohh, that's what you been wantin' this whole time?"

"Fuck..."

"What..." Mickey teases, and then after what feels like forever, finally closes the circle of his fingers so he can slowly stroke Ian's poor neglected cock. "Like this?"

And holy shit, you'd think he was fucking him with how immediately Ian's entire body tenses up, a moan slipping desperately through his bitten lips. "F-... Fuck!" Nice and slow. "Yeah - fuck... Please, Mickey..."

"'Please' what?"

"More..." He's already trying to fuck up into Mickey's hand, all the spit making it sloppy and wet. "Please - feels so fuckin' good..."

A war of attrition. And as usual, Mickey's come out on top. "Told ya you'd eventually start begging..."

Now, he'll take a little video - proof for the next time Ian's stubborn ass starts yappin'.

[ send me a smutty one-liner ]

#did you guys read this? i think you should read this. #this is a scheduled post. i'm commanding you to read this while i die slowly in an office cubicle. do it for me.

[heymrspatel]

Hiiii gallavich and 20? Kiss on a scar?

Hiiii!!! Your wish is my command:

+++

Ian’s on top of him, warm and heavy and so fucking good. Mickey wiggles a bit, tipping his head back to try and get a better angle, but the fact is that it’s pretty hard to have a successful makeout session when you have a huge grin stretched across your lips.

Ian doesn’t seem to mind. He’s smiling too.

Mickey nips at his lower lip, and Ian hisses and pulls back slightly, one hand still pinning Mickey’s wrists to the cot, the other cupping Mickey’s face.

Ian glares at him for all of one second before melting like a fucking sap again.

“Mickey.”

Mickey’s smile widens. He cocks his brow. Nibbles on his own lip instead of Ian’s. He lets himself look, really look, drink in all the details. “Your hair looks stupid as hell.”

Ian blinks, eyes flitting up as if he’ll be able to see. Fucking dork. “Oh. Yeah. I was uh… thinking about making a run for it. Maybe head down to Mexico…”

“Thank fuck you didn’t.”

“Yeah,” Ian breathes, gaze still dancing all over Mickey’s face like he’s not entirely convinced that he’s real, that he’s here. “Thank fuck.”

Mickey wiggles again, this time in impatience. Ian’s on him, but he wants Ian on him, wants Ian in him, wants Ian. 

He’s just about to start bitching when Ian tenses, brows furrowing, smile slipping. His hand slips down from Mickey’s face, fingers glancing over the skin of Mickey’s neck.

Oh.

“What’s this?”

“Nothin',” Mickey says, wiggling again. Jesus. What is it with Gallagher and his ability to turn Mickey into a fucking worm. “Don’t worry about it. ‘S all healed up, anyways.”

Ian’s frown deepens. His gaze darts up to meet Mickey’s, then down again, to the little pink not-yet-faded scar just above Mickey’s collarbone.

It’s nothing. Really. Mickey has plenty of other scars that are far more fucking impressive. He’s been shot for fuckssake, more than once. 

“Mickey. Is this– Did someone hold a fucking knife to your throat?”

Mickey huffs. Looks away. “Wasn’t a big fucking deal or anything–”

“Wasn’t a big deal?” 

“It wasn’t! Guy was just trying to prove a point.”

“He could have nicked a fucking artery!”

“He didn’t!” Mickey twists his wrists, trying to yank out of Ian’s now-even-fucking-tighter grasp, but Ian holds steady. Great. Now Mickey has to try and use his fucking words to calm Ian down, and fuck knows he’s never been good at that. “Ian, look, I’m fine. See? Totally fine. I barely even bled at all. Scar probably only looks so bad because I was shit at taking care of it and it was getting fucking blasted by the sun.”

Ian’s face crumples.

Fuck. “Ian–”

“I should have been there,” Ian says, and his voice is low. Angry. “I should have fucking been there. To take care of you. To keep you from getting hurt in the first place.”

Mickey finally manages to wrestle one of his hands free. He brings it up, smooths it through Ian’s hair, which is just as soft as ever. It looks different, but it feels the same. They both still feel the same. “Hey. It’s fine, man. I’m fine.” He twists his lips up. Cocks his brows. “Then again… not too late for you to take care of me now. Gonna kiss me better, hotshot?”

Ian looks at him for another long, slow moment. Breathes out a shaky breath. Finally fucking relaxes a bit. 

He leans in slow. Brushes his lips over the spot, soft enough to make Mickey shiver.

It’s Ian, and it’s Mickey, so it doesn't stay gentle for long. Ian’s kisses grow firmer, grow bolder, until he’s licking and sucking like he’s trying to cover up the mark with a mark of his own.

Mickey pants and hums and fucking wiggles. “Fuck. Ian. Need you.”

Ian’s hips jerk against his own, grinding them together just fucking right, before he pulls away again.

“Fuck. Ian,” Mickey huffs, nearly fucking whining at this point but too fucking desperate to care. 

“You have any other new scars I need to kiss better?”

He does. He has at least five from the past too-many-fucking-months, littered across his body along with his countless other scars. Ian will sniff them all out, he’s sure. But they’ve got time for that. That’s all they’ve fucking got now, is time, and Mickey’s never been happier to serve it. “Hm. You know, now that you mention it… I’ve got a pretty fucking serious case of blueballs, Nurse Gallagher.”

Ian snorts, loud and jarring and goofy as fuck, and it’s probably the sappiest fucking thing Mickey’s ever thought, but the sound of his laughter and the sight of his smile and the feel of his weight is more healing than any fucking kiss could ever be.

He still ain’t gonna turn down those kisses, though.

send me a number~

#ooooh 😭😭😭 i love this so so much!

[heymrspatel]

please handle me with care i’m a very sleepy and soft creature

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might cry, might not? probably will 🧸

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Fireflies in the Woods

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#stop it STOP IT! #they're about to get married and they're standing in ian's childhood bedroom where mickey used to sleep on the floor #pretending like he wasn't dying to sneak into that twin sized bed. next to the boy that changed his life. #i need to be put down

[heymrspatel]

New Girl Rewatch: 1.22

#this is what he did to make florist mickey believe he had no idea what he was doing actually... forget what i said in that ask

[heymrspatel]

SHAMELESS CREATORS NETWORK APRIL THEME: TWO BY TWO

ian x mickey + two step - dave matthews band

bonus:

#*siiiiiiggghhhhh* look at them smooching so good *siiiiiiggghhhhh*

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hi julissa my beloved, i am forever gazing lovely at bartender ian 🫠💖 and okay so like, ian's got his tomato plants up on the rooftop garden. he's good with them! he always gets plenty of juicy tomatoes that he shares with his family and his neighbors. he knows he knows what he's doing. but *maybe* he's decided to play a *little* dumb about gardening to maybe have a pretense to get mickey over to his apartment. you know to just help him re-pot some flowers and other plants he bought to spruce up the place? get a little color on his balcony, etc etc. you know, now that he's gotten so used to the bar being so full of fresh flowers he really see's the benefit of being surrounded by them - or so he reasons. and of course he doesnt wanna fuck it up, he could really use the help of a professional. 😅 lol is this anything?? 😂

🗣 DEANNA! our florist and bartender boys are always on my mind!

is this anything, you ask?! this is everything!

i love when ian gives into his silly billy energy. it's his true form! where he shines the brightest. he can't play shit cool and it's what makes him soooo daaaamn endearing!

so, him acting like he doesn't know what he's doing in his garden just to find an excuse to have mickey over is peak Silly Guy Ian!

as if mickey isn't going to show up and notice that his plants are flourishing. as if he's not going to see the set of gardening tools neatly tucked away in the corner. the watering can. the bag of soil. the used gloves that have seen his thumbs go from brown to green.

mickey is going to try his hardest to hide the smirk that wants to take over his face. because, my god, this sexy motherfucker is bumbling like a fool now isn't he. talking about needing help re-potting plants. as if mickey didn't also catch a glimpse of the little stack of starter pots when he walked out into the garden.

no. he'll nod along for now. he's going to have to play it cool for the both of them.

he'll kneel next to ian and give him a little lesson of things he's fully positive ian already knows.

and they'll look at each other more than at their work. and they'll find their fingers intertwined in the soil. and they'll kiss right there in front of ian's garden.

his plants blooming just like their love.

#ha haaaaaaa THEM!!! #deanna thank you for sending this!! i love them so much! #flowers and brews #j ramble drabbles #deedala #asks

[heymrspatel]

#*siiiiiiiighhhhh*

[heymrspatel]

"i told you, you would eventually start begging" :iancheeky:

"I told you, you would eventually start begging." + "Come on, please, do it" (from anon)

Ian may be the love of his whole life, but god damn is he a stubborn bitch.

Mickey's known this about him since the day they met. And even now, a decade later, this man is still sticking to his guns, yappin' about how he's in complete control when it comes to their sex life - how he'd never, ever, evvvver stoop to having to plead for something in bed, let alone beg. All those times it's happened in the past were just an illusion, apparently. Something he's never done.

Ian's a stubborn motherfucker.

And the only one worse than him is Mickey.

Ian groans in frustration, his top half squirming where he's been bound at the wrists and tied up to the top of their headboard.

No touching. No manhandling to get his way.

If he wants something, he's gonna have to use his words.

"Ugh...Mickey..."

From his leisurely slouch over his lap, Mickey grins up at him. That's right. It's starting. "Lookin' a little antsy there, Tough Guy..." he teases, "There somethin' you wanna say to me?"

Because he's gonna have to. Mickey's tied him up and turned him on without even touching him. And now they play the waiting game, Ian's cock hard and red and damn near twitching as Mickey makes a loose circle with his fingers, barely even brushing over him with each slow, teasing hover up and down.

He's showing him what could be. If he tightened his hold. If he was actually stroking over him and not just pretending with feather light touches.

He's playing dirty and he knows it and it's driving Ian fucking insane.

"Mickey..." he huffs, his hips trying to chase after it but getting nothing - just fucking up into the air as he bucks. It took a while to get here, but the wait was definitely worth it. "Fuck - I fuckin' hate you..."

Mickey grins. "No ya don't." That's funny though. Poor guy. "You're just finally realizing how much you need me, ain'tchya?"

Another sway of his hips upward, and then Ian's bottom half is collapsing back into the mattress, his frustration clear. "Why the fuck are you doing this to me..."

But, "Ain't doin' shit to you, sweetheart," Mickey says and it's true. "Told ya exactly what you need to do to get it, didn't I?"

"Ugh-"

"Didn't I?"

Ian exhales loudly, his head falling backwards to lean against the headboard. Stubborn bitch.

That's fine. Mickey's got all night.

And it's about time he ups the ante anyway.

The pop of their bed springs as Mickey leans over his lap has Ian looking back down, his strung out curiosity getting the best of him.

And fuck, the way he watches with those blown pupils... How his lips part in a heavy breath, waiting as Mickey makes a show out of letting drool pool and then drip right onto the head of his cock... Christ, you'd think his spit has some kinda magical powers or something.

"Oh..." Ian breathes out, from high up in his lungs. "Shit..."

They both watch it dribble down the side of his aching dick, and Mickey just knows that shit feels crazy right now. The tease of something wet and warm tracing all the way down to his balls, but never giving any pressure like he wants. A little prep, but for what?

Ian's cock pulses between them. The chain of his restraints pulls above his head. And oh...his tiny voice... "...Mick..."

"Mm...?" Mickey hums, smart enough not to fall for the change in his tone right away. He's known to do this. Ian's stubborn and greedy, but he's also a manipulative little brat if he thinks it'll get him what he wants.

So Mickey waits... Slips the loose ring of his fingers back up and away, so loose that he doesn't even get spit on them.

"Mick..." Again. Small, again. "I don't hate you...like I said I do..."

Mickey doesn't look up at him. Doesn't need to see those big faux doe eyes right now. "I know that, darlin'..."

"I don't-..." he shifts against the bed, fighting the way his hips try to buck up into nothing as Mickey blows a stream of warm air into his lap, getting his spit to glisten. "I love you..."

He's doing a decent job at trying to baby his way out of this. Sounds all cute and innocent and everything. Mickey could really fall for it and give him everything he wants, if he didn't hear the desperation in the fringes of his voice like that when he says it.

"Love when you touch me..."

Mickey can't help the grin that pulls to his face - knowing and amused. There it is. "That right?"

"Love it-..." he shifts on the bed again, trying to get himself closer to some friction. "Love when you jerk me o-....oh fuck..."

Ian's mouth drops open for good as Mickey drools all over his cock again, his eyebrows lifting with his heavy blink.

It's hot, Mickey's gotta admit. Even if it's torture.

Probably because it's torture.

A moment of silence, filled with heavy breaths as they both watch Mickey's spit drip down the side of his cock. He can practically hear his heart hammering away from here, poor guy...

Ian's chest rises as he fills his lungs, pressing the side of his face into his elevated bicep. It's to hide his groan of desperation, probably, but there's simply not enough coverage. "Come on..."

Any time now. "'Come on' what...?"

"Mickey..." He buries further into his arm, clearly trying to save face. But... "Please..." he finally begs. "Please - just fucking do it..."

It's got a rush of victory sweeping through Mickey's chest. Because there it is. Fucking finally. "Ohh, that's what you been wantin' this whole time?"

"Fuck..."

"What..." Mickey teases, and then after what feels like forever, finally closes the circle of his fingers so he can slowly stroke Ian's poor neglected cock. "Like this?"

And holy shit, you'd think he was fucking him with how immediately Ian's entire body tenses up, a moan slipping desperately through his bitten lips. "F-... Fuck!" Nice and slow. "Yeah - fuck... Please, Mickey..."

"'Please' what?"

"More..." He's already trying to fuck up into Mickey's hand, all the spit making it sloppy and wet. "Please - feels so fuckin' good..."

A war of attrition. And as usual, Mickey's come out on top. "Told ya you'd eventually start begging..."

Now, he'll take a little video - proof for the next time Ian's stubborn ass starts yappin'.

[ send me a smutty one-liner ]

#OOHOOOOOMYGOD HELLO? 911?? #the fucking teasing has taken me straight out!!! out at the knees and kicked in the stomach and shot dead ggrrrrrrrrrrrrr i loveee itttttt #the teasing and the banter and t-the spit and the warm breath and he's tied up and IT'S EVERYTHING WHAT AM I DOING LISTING SHIT #'i hate you!.... i don't hate you like i said i do'..... why is this me? lmaoo 'i know that darlin' alsdkfj shoot me dead again please #ray this has breathed new life into me BAH if only i woulda read this when you posted it i wouldn't have needed the sweet treat this mornin #i love mickey's 'come on what?' and 'please what?' idkidkidk it makes me stupid. hearing that? stupid. saying that? stupid. stupid period. #the drool though.... i need to touch dirt. not grass. i need to dig my fingers straight into the earth and reconnect..... #wtf am i saying... BYE! #FAV

[heymrspatel]

THEM

#i love them i love them i love them i love them i love them i love them

[heymrspatel]

[heymrspatel]

being alone is the best fucking thing until it's the worst fucking thing.

#the sequel #maybe i should just go to bed right now *checks time* at 8:20pm