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turtlecleric · 7 months

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bay!mikey x fem reader, nsfw, no cws as far as I'm aware!

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“Are you sure?”

You roll your eyes and try not to let your impatience bleed into your voice too too much when you answer. “Yes, Mikey. I'm sure.”

He's kneeling between your legs. His hands are on your waist beneath your shirt, his thumbs brushing back and forth over the skin there. Every time his hands have started to lower, to start pulling your shorts down, he's stopped and asked, again, again, again, if you're sure you're okay with this.

It's sweet. And driving you insane.

Mikey’s hands ghost down to your hips once more, tucking beneath the waistband of your shorts. He just barely starts to slide them down before he stops. Again. You're about to groan in frustration when you see his eyes get a faraway look, his lips thinning as his brow creases. Your irritation fades into something else, old insecurities starting to creep in, and you feel the familiar need to backtrack. To give an out.

“Do you not- I mean- you know, you don't have to do this if you changed your mind. I know a lot of guys don't really like to- and I'm- I understand if-”

“No!” His frantic tone catches you off guard, making you pause. “I really want to do this,” he continues, and you’re relieved by the earnestness in his tone, in his eyes, but he still looks… distressed. “It’s not you, I just…” He takes another slow breath as he looks off to the side, and if it was anyone else you might scoff at the implication. It’s not you, it’s me. But this is Mikey. And Mikey means what he says. Always.

“Hey,” you call softly. When his eyes focus on you again, you reach out and gesture for him to come closer. He crawls forward to hover over you, and for a moment you're distracted by the sheer size of him. The way his arms are thicker than your thighs, the way just his plastron is wide enough to span the entire length of your shoulders and then some. But then you look back into his eyes and see the hesitancy that's still there. The… fear. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

He sighs again, swallowing before he answers. “What if I'm not… good? I've never- never done this before, and you deserve… I just want… I want it to be good for you.”

Oh. Your sweet boy.

You cup his face with both hands, smiling up at him when he leans into your touch. “It will be good, Mike. Because it’s you. I don’t have any expectations you have to meet. I just… I just want you. I love you. Besides,” you say, letting your smile shift into something playful. “I'm willing to put in time for you to practice as much as you need.”

His eyes widen before he giggles, and you have to take a moment to just stare. He's so handsome, you think to yourself. But then the laughter stops, and his eyes soften, and he's looking at you like you're… something incredible. Like he's the lucky one. Mikey leans down to kiss you, then. Slow and languid and wet, the kisses feel like a glimpse of what's to come. Like a promise.

When he pulls back, the brilliant smile he sends you makes you melt. A quick kiss to your nose makes you laugh, and the way his eyes shine has your chest swelling with affection.

Your sweet, sweet boy.

Mikey lowers himself back down between your legs and starts to slide your shorts and underwear down. You lift your hips and move your legs to help, pulling your shirt off at the same time. You toss it to the side, expecting him to do the same with your bottoms, but he places them carefully on the bed instead. You can see his nostrils flare, and when he speaks his tone is reverent.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispers. “God, you're- you're perfect. Just look at you.”

Large hands faintly trail from your thighs to your hips. Up your sides, cupping beneath your breasts, over your ribcage. The way his hands can almost completely wrap around your entire torso - it steals your breath, makes your lungs falter in your chest.

Fuck. He's so big.

His hands move to your shoulders, massaging gently for a moment before dropping back down to brush his thumbs across your nipples. Back and forth. Then in little circles. Then a light pinch before he starts to roll them between his thumbs and forefingers. It pulls a small, high-pitched sound from your throat, makes you instinctively try to press your thighs together, but his position between your legs keeps them open. You see his nostrils flare again, see him blink rapidly as his expression turns into something a little darker, a little more primal.

Oh. Right. He can smell you. He can smell the… right.

After a gentle squeeze of your breasts, he pulls his hands back and settles onto his stomach. You can feel his breath between your legs, and it makes you clench around nothing. He moves to hook your knees over his shoulders, and his shell is cool under your calves. It sends a minute shiver through you.

“One more time, Angel,” he murmurs into the inside of your thigh. The hesitancy is gone now, replaced by an eager excitement. You should really be past the point of butterflies by now, but. Apparently not. “You sure?”

Mikey waits for you to nod before gripping your waist and pulling you closer. Your heart does a funny little skip when he moves you so easily, like it's nothing, like he could pick you up with one arm and not break a sweat - and another shiver runs up your spine at the thought, because he could. He's done it before.

Mikey's arms are long enough that he can still reach your chest, can still squeeze and caress and pinch as he presses his snout to your heat. He closes his eyes and breathes in your scent, making a blush creep up your neck. He exhales with a rumble, a low churr that vibrates against your core and has your blush deepening at the implication that he really is enjoying this. When his eyes open again they're almost completely black. Those eyes stay trained on yours as a thick, wet tongue slides between your folds and starts to explore.

You can tell he's never done this before. He's messy and uncoordinated, but it still feels really, really nice. It almost doesn't even matter what his tongue is doing when he's staring at you like that, though. Like he's drinking you in. Like he's starving, and you are the first food he's seen in days. Like all he can think of is you, you, you.

You know the feeling. You can't think of anything but him.

His tongue is slow and careful as he explores, his eyes never leaving your face. When he laves over your clit, your sharp inhale makes him pause. Then all of his focus moves to that spot, his tongue sliding and flicking and swirling around it. Wet, obscene noises mix with your quiet sighs, with his steady rumble. He's starting to pull more and more sounds out of you, your breath becoming unsteady as he works, and you realize that he's watching your reactions. Using them to learn what feels good for you.

Mikey is a quick learner, it seems.

His tongue flattens, a delicious, textured glide over your clit making your legs tense again before it dips lower, pressing in to find your entrance. His fingers pinch your nipples again, a bit harder this time, as his tongue pushes deeper inside. You can't stop yourself from clenching around it. In. Out. In. Out. Slow, slick, and insistent. He's fucking you with his tongue, and you can't quite think, can't remember the last time you were this wet.

One of his hands leaves your chest to rub slippery circles over your clit as he continues to lick inside you. His tongue is so goddamn thick. Long and firm and driving you insane, making you squirm as the tension builds. Your toes curl, your back arching as your hips work to get him deeper. Deeper. His thumb doesn't stop, the friction pulling that rubber band inside of you more taut by the second.

A quick learner, indeed.

He does something with his tongue, something that makes electricity shoot up your spine. Your muscles tense, your mouth falls open on a gasp, and your eyes roll back in your head. That blissful high has you chanting his name as he continues to move inside of you. You can't think, can't focus past the tingling shimmer that sparkles in your blood and across your skin.

Fuck.

When you start to come down, he's still fucking you with his tongue, still moving his thumb in a circle. You can't get away, and it's too much.

“Stop,” you whimper. Immediately he pulls his hands away, pulls his tongue out of you. The steady churr he was releasing stops, as well. It's a relief and a disappointment all at once, and you're still trying to clear the fog from your mind when he speaks.

“You okay? Was that- was that wrong?”

God his voice. Husky. Deeper than usual. You pry your eyes open to see his mouth shining with your slick, his pupils still blown wide. You clear your throat, trying to get your own tongue to move the way you want it to.

“No, that's was… that was amazing, oh my god. Oh my god. Just, just needed- need a second.”

His eyes flick to your heaving chest. His throat bobs when he swallows, and you suddenly realize how much you want him inside of you. How much you want to make him feel good, too.

“Mikey,” you croak. “Mikey, please.”

His brow furrows, and he gently lowers your legs off of his shell so he can crawl forward and hover over you again. You glance down, seeing the bulge in his pants and the large wet spot there. Your hands fumble, uncoordinated still, as you reach down to palm over the outline of his cock. It twitches beneath your hand, and Mikey lets out another low rumble above you, his eyes squeezing shut as you stroke him through the fabric.

“Want you,” you breathe, still having trouble getting your thoughts together. Luckily, he seems to understand. He hops up, and within seconds he's naked and back over you.

“You sure?” This time you do groan in frustration. “Okay, okay. Sorry princess,” he chuckles, a little breathless. You watch him grasp the shaft, swiping the head of his cock through your folds, gathering your slick to mix with his own before lining himself up and pushing in.

The slow press inside is something you'll never get used to. The stretch, the feeling of full, full, full as he slides in further. Deeper than his tongue could reach, deeper than anyone else ever has. A dizzying mix of pleasure-pain that punches the breath from your lungs, that has every muscle tensing without your permission.

“Relax, princess,” he grits out, clearly holding back for you. You focus on his neck, on the veins protruding there. The beads of sweat that trickle down his scales. “Relax, I've got you.”

You do your best to obey, to let your muscles loosen, but he's just so goddamn big. You'll never get used to it. Never. He's not even all the way in when he reaches your cervix, running out of room and truly filling you so completely that it feels like your brain is leaking out of your skull. Like you could press on your stomach and feel him there.

His arms flex on either side of you as he holds himself up. Waiting for you to adjust like he always does, breaths harsh, face screwed up and lips pressed together. One day you'd like to see how long he can last before he loses control, but right now you need him to move.

You nod when you feel like you can take it. He shudders as he pulls out, the slow drag of his length inside of you pulling little whimpers from the back of your throat. Then back in, in, in, and out again. Slow and careful, gentle with you, always gentle, but even still you can barely breathe.

“Doing so good, Babes,” he whispers, and the adoration in his voice cuts through the fog of full full full in your head. “Doing so good for me.”

You can only moan in reply, but in your defense he's starting to move faster. Words slip from his mouth that you barely comprehend, that bounce around in your mind as he fucks into you - perfect, taking it so well for me, Babes, so good, feel so good, fuck, I love you, I love you so much, god, fuck, you're so tight - and you can feel him starting to lose his rhythm. He's close already, and a delirious grin tugs at your lips. It never fails to make you feel good, knowing that you drive him wild.

He drives you wild, too.

“Come for me, pretty girl,” he growls. His angle shifts as he holds himself up with one hand, his other hand finding your clit again to add more friction. It hits you suddenly, all at once, and you feel like you're shaking apart beneath him as he continues to rut into you. Arching up, clenching around him while your mind whites out in bliss once again. You're vaguely aware of his own release inside of you, his hips stuttering and slowing as he grinds into you, the force pressing you into the mattress.

Fuck. God. Fuck.

Mikey is still for a moment. Then he wraps one arm around you, pulling you flush against his front. Still inside of you, he rolls so that you're on top and he can collapse backward onto the bed, holding you close. Your entire body moves up and down as he pants beneath you, and once again you're reminded of just how small you are compared to him when you see your hands braced against his plastron.

Slowly, both of your breathing starts to even out. You feel him softening inside, and the moment his cock retreats you feel his come start to leak out of you. It's an odd feeling, and you let out a small sound of discomfort that has his arms tightening around you.

“You okay? Was that- was it good?”

The hint of worry is back in his voice, and you really don't understand how he can ask that question when you're still trembling from the aftershocks of your second orgasm in the last fifteen minutes.

“Better than good, Mikes. Holy shit.”

His surprised laugh jostles you, helping to pull you a little bit further back into your body. When he talks again, you feel the vibration of his plastron beneath you.

“I'm only gonna get better, Babes.” His hands grip your waist and pull you up - again, like it's easy, like it's nothing - so he can kiss you. The taste of you still clings to his mouth, and again his kiss feels like a promise. He kisses your nose, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Gotta keep practicing. I bet by next year I'll be the best you've ever had.”

You don't tell him he already is, because by the time you open your mouth he's talking again, his voice warm and bright like the sun.

“Happy birthday, Kira Kira. I love you.”

The rare nickname has you blushing again, and his smile only grows brighter at the sight of your flushed cheeks.

“Love you, too, Mikey.”

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(Kira Kira is sort of like… sparkle in Japanese, I think)

Tag list: @yorshie @khayalli @thejudiciousneurotic @mxalmighty @thelaundrybitch @justalotoffanfiction @luckycharms1701

#turtlecleric scrolls #bay!mikey #i swear to GOD if I post this tonight and notice a typo tomorrow... I'm gonna lose it. in my defense my vision is SHIT right now #anyway enjoy! it's quite long for me #;)

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