Curate, connect, and discover
bruising bites
yan, dub-con, heed the tags
he takes this opportunity to take care of you.
you're staying over the lair for a few days, waiting for the police to do their business. it's stressful to walk by your neighbour's old flat down the hall and see police tape on the door. raph offered hospitality to you and you agreed on a week or so, which should be plenty of time to let nypd do their thing. your job even let you have a break at the unfortunate circumstance that had taken place.
mikey makes sure to keep you fed and safe the most compared to his brothers. you rarely find yourself going out for the first few days, watching movies with leo or playing video games with donnie. you even find yourself having tea time with raph, having a nice conversation about what's the best way to put someone in a headlock. but mikey tended to pull you close to him the most, letting you try the meals he makes first. letting you curl into him while the two of you comfortably laze on the couch. letting you run your hands along his shoulders. the shivers he gets when the pads of your fingers press a little firmer against his markings. as if you're comparing the texture of them to the rest of his skin.
he can't help it if he turns to kiss you. he can't help it if his hands wander under that sleep shirt you've been wearing around all day. he can't help it if he soaks his shorts grinding against your leg, panting as you make out on the couch. after a moment you push him away, surprised at how things have escalated quickly. you get up from the couch, quickly walking away with a warm face, and you shut yourself off in the guest bedroom, locking the subway door and curling up in bed.
mikey hopes he didn't gross you out. he really hopes you aren't disgusted by him. he had been working so hard to bring you closer, to not let anyone get in the way. he had you in his hands, feeling your flesh, reverently tracing your contours. his heart sank when you ran away from him. it's only right he should chase you down to explain himself, right ? that he adores you. that he would sacrifice anything for you. that he would kill for you. perhaps not that last part, but he knocks on your door regardless and waits for you to open it, coming out with a shy expression on your face. his stomach erupts in butterflies and his heart hurts, attempting to escape its confines.
with a few sweet words you let him in and he has you pinned against the mattress, pyjama bottoms and underwear on the floor, so ready for him to show you how much he adores you. even if you hesitate. even if you clutch his wrists and tell him you might not be ready. he reassures he'd be gentle. he'd be good, so good for you.
the way he kisses down your throat, little nips trailing along your neck. his cloaca pressed up against you while his hands tighten on your hips. he's shaking. he's weak. he's fantasised about this for so long he's starving for it.
the first bite was agonising. the second was electrifying. the third was claiming. his tongue laps at your stinging flesh and his cock drops while you sob, digging your nails into the marks on his shoulders, a small chirp leaving his lips while he nibbles on your pulse point. mikey's cock presses in, in, in, your walls complaining at the stretch. your nails create deep crescents at this point, you're trying to take deep breaths as his praises reverberate in your ears.
he sits up to look down at your half-lidded eyes, bite-ridden neck, and he finally glanced down where the two of you are joined together. you beg him to move, he listens. watching the way you stretch and take him. he churrs loudly, moving back down again to go harder, nuzzling back into your neck with little "so perfect"s and "pretty"s. mikey's hands grip your hips to keep you in place, but he's unsure how much longer he could last when you're so much better when it's you. not some garment of yours, but living, breathing you.
he stills and watches the face you make when you come like watching the sun set, stroking a thumb against your cheek as he keeps going. you could feel when he empties himself inside, but you're too overstimulated to complain about it. he carefully cleans you up and takes care of you, holding you close to him when you drift off.
after a while you wake up from your nap to find he's not there. you find it mildly upsetting. you stand, wobbling for a moment before stepping in front of the mirror, noticing the nasty bruises and marks appearing notably on the skin of your neck. you gasp, lightly touching the scabbing teeth marks and wincing at the shot of pain you get, then feeling your thighs subconsciously clench together. you're a little sure you could get used to this.