Chapter Text
EVICTED. EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY.
I stared at the email. As if looking at it would change its contents.
The words sang like a mocking chorus in my brain.
Evicted.
Evicted.
Evicted.
I imagined all my things had been thrown out onto the street. People and garbage collectors would come to collect whatever they could get their hands on. I would have mourned all the stuff but I had almost nothing left. Anything even remotely valuable had been pawned long ago.
I didn’t bother reading the rest of the email. I tucked my phone onto my pocket and looked out of the train windows, watching the buildings flash by, the neon city lights blurring together as my eyes unfocused.
Evicted.
I sighed. I had expected this. It would have been nice for my dickhead landlord to at least wait until I got home to tell me in person, instead of sending me an email. Then again, what did I expect? I had been late my payments a few times, and the fat old man had been banging on my door every night, threatening me for the last three months. And today, I could barely afford a street hot dog.
How the hell did New York still have so many people living in it? Even with two jobs, both that paid shit combined, I couldn’t keep a shitty apartment in the south side. When I was first kicked out of my folks’ house, I had stayed with roommates, and I saved up a small amount of money. Until one of the roomies “wandered” into my room in the middle of the night and grabbed my ass, saying that he thought he was reaching for his own pillow. Still, it wasn’t as bad as living with my old man. At least I got to leave that apartment after punching my roommate, instead of simply being thrown out for having a personality that wasn’t “sit still, serve, and speak only when you’re spoken to.”
The train screeched to a stop suddenly, and I lost my balance for a second. I hissed as my ankle twisted at an odd angle. Stupid heels. I straightened, checking my legs, hoping to god that my nylons hadn’t ripped. This was the only job interview outfit I had. Having to eat whatever I could afford had given me a little chub around my hips, and my old slacks didn’t fit anymore. So that left me with a pencil skirt I had to hike up to my ribs.
I wondered if that was why the hiring manager at today’s interview hadn’t looked pleased when I walked in. My skirt wasn’t any shorter than hers. So she could see my knees, so what? Was that a good enough reason not to give me the damn office job?
My nylons were fine, but by the time I had stopped freaking out, I had missed my stop. I pulled on the strap of my heavy purse. Maybe I should just go straight to a shelter and try to figure out my next move. I wasn’t in the mood to see the big red “evicted” sign on my apartment door.
I looked down at my phone, searching for a shelter nearby, when suddenly, the crowd around me started shuffling out of the train car as though it were on fire. I moved out of the way before a wave of moving bodies could trample me. I was jostled in the rush. Spinning, I grabbed onto a nearby pole and then realized that I suddenly had a whole train car to myself.
Well. Almost to myself. I stood near the back of the car, gritting my teeth against the pain of being in high heels all day, when I saw them.
Four men had walked into the train car.
I blinked.
Not just any men.
Yokai.
So that was why everyone in the train scrambled out like someone had been infected with the plague. It had been a few years since the Yokai first came to the surface and quickly proved that they were a force to be reckoned with, quickly gaining both political and financial power that made sure none of the humans would mess with them, even the typical racists, like my old man. Can’t exactly mess with a new species when they had endless amounts of muscle and financial power. I ran into yokai from time to time at the coffee shot, and every one of them had been nice to me so far.
I wasn’t afraid of yokai.
The men in question looked reptilian. Each of them wore suits that likely cost more than my monthly rent, covering various shades of green, scaly skin. The color of their ties matched the color of their masks. Red, blue, purple. The shortest, the young one with the orange mask, still would have towered at least a head over me. He turned, his eye appearing over his shoulder, and I felt static jitter over my skin as his gaze landed on me. I looked away, fast, but I was sure I had seen something else. Something that looked a lot like a smile spreading over Orange’s soft features.
I risked a quick glance back.
He had moved his body to the side, half of him in line with his comrades, and the other side for me. But his face had turned completely in my direction.
A wink.
Hot blood rushed from my heart and straight into my legs. I gripped the pole with both hands, suddenly feeling as though I might collapse to my knees.
What the hell?
Four more men came in. Three guys, three more professionally tailored suits, surrounding a short, fat, balding man. The train car quickly filled with his cigar smoke.
My heart started to thud. My eyes started to burn.
If I coughed, would they all turn my way?
Lone woman in a train car with eight men. Talk about a recipe for disaster. I tried not to look at the yokai with the orange mask. Instead, I stared straight ahead, begging that the train would stop somewhere, anywhere. The telltale signs of a station appeared ahead and relief cooled my chest like mint mouthwash, which quickly turned into a burning sensation as panic took over.
The train kept going. There wasn’t even an announcement stating that a stop had been coming.
“Well, let’s get to the heart of things.”
That voice sounded as though a chainsaw had shredded his vocal cords. I tipped my head forward, trying to see the yokai through my hair. The old, fat man smacked his lips.
“Gotta say though, you boys got a weird way of doing business.”
“Weird, Mr. Rockefeller? How you figure?”
The blue masked yokai had spoken. There was a red crescent mark on the side of his face. His voice was playful, confident.
Mr. Rockefeller blew out a long puff of smoke, and I wrinkled my nose. “You know, most men would just have their meeting in an office. Not a public train.”
“We had places to be and a busy schedule. We fit you in where you could.”
“Fit me in? Do you know who I am, boy? I’ve been in this business since before you were born.”
“Technically, we were hatched,” mumbled Purple.
Mr. Rockefeller bared his teeth. “You’re the funny one, eh?”
“Yes, actually.”
The big yokai with the red bandana gave Purple a look.
“Sorry about him,” said Blue, smiling. “Accountants, am I right? Must make sure everything is perfectly precise.”
“Like the product that you will give me?” Rockefeller took another puff from his cigar. “I’m starting to doubt the shipment is real. I haven’t seen any of what you’ve promised so far.”
Blue reached into his suit jacket. The three big men around Rockefeller tensed.
“Easy there,” Blue chuckled. “It’s just a box.”
He opened a small, velvet box and I tried not to gasp at the sight of the biggest emerald I had ever seen. It glimmered across the train car like a beacon. He gave the gem to Rockefeller. I saw something shiny on the man’s chin. Was he drooling?
“More where that came from at the docks. Our next stop,” said Blue.
Then he took a step back, spreading out his arms. The three other yokai also spread out. The Orange one put himself between me and the rest of the men.
“You’ll get your shipment and that will be that. No more business.”
“Excuse me?”
“As of today, the Hamato Clan is no longer dealing with your organization, Mr. Rockefeller.”
“What?”
Purple spoke again. “Like Leo said, number crunchers are meticulous. We know you’ve been holding out on us. Be happy we’re giving you anything to sell to your customers at all.”
“What are you talking about?”
Red spoke, for the first time. “It isn’t very neighborly to sell information about your gem suppliers and then use part of your profits to hire hitmen.”
“Your assassin, Alberto, I think?”
I looked up, no longer hiding behind my hair. Orange had spoken.
“Sang like a canary when I had my foot on his neck.”
I hugged the pole to my chest. He spoke in such a sweet tone that it took me a few seconds to realize exactly what he had said. My unease rippled through the train car as Orange put his hands his pocket and leaned back, tapping his foot on the floor. Casual, relaxed, with a smile to accentuate his youthful features, but his eyes betrayed the cold mist in his very being.
I needed to get off the train.
We hadn’t stopped, and now we were racing along a bridge in the middle of the city.
I heard clicking.
Mr. Rockefeller growled. “Maybe I should finish the job Alberto was too stupid to do.”
Guns were trained on the yokai. Mr. Rockerfeller’s man were quick.
“You could try.”
Blue smiled. Purple rolled his eyes, and Red was as still as a statue. Orange lifted his hand from his pocket.
Rockerfeller’s men leaned into their guns, arms tensing.
Noise.
Like an avalanche, I was consumed by it, my heart and mind screaming, trying to make sense of the world. Gold, purple, and ice blue explosions of light burst around me. The glass all around me shuddering and reflecting absolute chaos as gunshots banged against my eardrums. My heart twisted along with my stomach, and my knees buckled.
But my legs didn’t hit the ground. Something warm was on my belly, across my shoulders. Blood?
Opening my eyes, I sucked in air, preparing to see crimson.
Instead. I saw gold.
A glowing, golden chain was pulled taunt right in front of my eyes. My eyes followed the chain links, widening as I saw hundreds of criss-crossing ribbings filling the train car. It reminded me of old spy movies, of a series of lasers protecting priceless art pieces in a museum, except the chain links emerged from blue holes that swirled on the walls, the windows, the floor, and the ceiling.
Following the lines, I was able to find their epicenter. Several chains wrapped around Orange’s outstretched arm. He held at least four ropes of the chain in his tight fist. Beyond him, Mr. Rockefeller and his goons were mummified in chains. Only the tops of their heads, their noses, and eyes were visible.
Blue swung a long sword over his shoulder and stepped around the old man and his crew.
“You know, it’s really sad when people choose to burn their bridges instead of walk away gracefully. I think you’re getting old, Mr. Rockefeller. Now, I could have just Mikey squeeze you into meat chunks right here, right now.”
Orange’s fist tightened. He bent his arm slightly and the fabric of his suit bulged as the muscles underneath them tightened. The chains around Mr. Rockefeller and his goons bit deeper into their skin.
“But that would be too messy,” Blue continued.
Orange relaxed his arm, just a tad. The chains were still once more.
“So,” Blue swirled his sword around him like a baton. The blade stopped, pointing at Rockefeller’s nose.
Even a few steps away, I could see Mr. Rockefeller shaking.
“Here’s what’s going to happen before I drop you into a random dumpster somewhere. First, you’re going to forget about business with me and my brothers. If you don’t, well, Donnie?”
“I liquidate your assets,” said Purple.
He spread his arms wide. I blinked. Several purple squares appeared in the sky, each showing a separate image. I was too far away to see, but some of them had graphs and numbers.
“It was pretty easy to get access to your accounts, payroll, and classified files,” Purple explained. “I bet a certain Andrea Serena would be very interested in the names of the men you employ in her legal organization, as well as access to all the names of the officers that have cleared your wrongdoings in the past. Also, I can transfer all of your stocks into my name, and give several of your enemies the locations and access codes to your mansions and safe houses.”
“I’m sure you love your money and want to keep it, isn’t that right?” Blue tapped Mr. Rockefeller’s nose with the tip of his sword. “So, no more dealings with the Hamato-Baron family, and you should probably get out of town while you’re at it.”
Blue swung his sword. Mr. Rockafeller’s muffled yelp was over just as quickly as it had started. He and his men were swallowed by a blue, swirling vortex in the floor.
The train finally stopped. Orange opened his fingers, and the golden chains disintegrated into embers. I slumped against the pole.
The doors opened and the yokai walked out.
“I hope you have a plan for what comes next,” Red was saying.
“Not a clue,” Blue sang.
“Leo! The old man isn’t the type to just give up!”
“You worry too much, big bro.”
“Don’t worry, Raph. Unlike some people, I am very good at taking persuasions.”
From the window in front of me, I saw the yokai walking out into the station. People darted away from them as they moved. Purple was still speaking. Red looked disgruntled and tired. Blue had a hop in his step as though he hadn’t just stared down the barrel of several guns. I squinted. Where was Orange?
The train jerked. I gasped, moving toward the nearest door. It closed and I drew my hand back instinctively, even though my fingers hadn’t been anywhere near the doors when they slammed shut.
“Damn!”
I collapsed into one of the empty train seats. The surreality of the last few minutes faded into dreamlike memories and reality rudely slithered back into my brain, the word “evicted” coiling in my mind once more. Now I’d have to wait to get close enough to a nearby shelter. I just hoped I could find a place in time.
“You okay?”
I looked up.
Orange was lounging in the seat right across from me. His ankle on his opposite knee, arm dropped across several seats to his right. The picture of ease, his eyes soft, his posture friendly. He was athletic and lean, the black suit and orange tie accentuating his youthful looks. He wore the outfit not like a model, but like a celebrity who used their charm and cute looks to make fans melt with a single smile.
“Fine,” I snapped.
“Where are you headed?”
I burst into laughter.
I threw my head back, tears burning my eyes as I looked to the ceiling.
“I do pride myself on making people smile, but I usually have to tell a joke first,” Orange quipped.
“You and your friends-”
“Brothers,” Orange corrected.
“Your brothers just casually broke the laws of physics, threatened some mafia guys, and you’re asking me where I’m headed?”
“Well, yeah. I want to make sure you get there.”
“Thanks, but that’s not necessary.”
“There’s no one driving this train, you know. Donnie programmed it up to keep going in circles for at least an hour after we finished our meeting. So, I’m going to have to text him and tell him where you want to stop. You’re not getting off this train otherwise.”
He moved. My brain shuttered to a stop, watching him as he moved his shoulders, freeing his arms from his suit jacket. He folded the jacket, and put it down on the seat next to him. He leaned forward on his knees, folding up his white sleeves to his elbows, revealing the strong, tight muscles of his forearms. It was then that I noticed his three fingered hands. Long, thick digits, with dark calluses that stood out against the cerulean color of his skin.
“W-who’s Donnie?”
“The purple one.”
I gaped at him. “You’re serious? Your brother can hack into a city train?”
“He can do a lot of things.” His eyes lowered down to my shoes and back up again. “So can I. Come on, let me help you. It must suck to have to take another train all the way back to your place. At least this way, you’ll stop near where you want to go.”
“Even if you could take me wherever I wanted, it wouldn’t matter.”
“Aw, why not?”
He looked so disappointed, his round, boyish cheeks dropping into a frown that looked too worried to be anything other then cute. I might as well as have told him that he couldn’t buy his preferred toy for Christmas. I didn’t want to say the next words, wanted to pretend for a little longer, but my feet really hurt and I just wanted a soft, safe place to rest my head. And it getting harder not to cry.
“I don’t have a place to go,” I admitted, not looking at him. “And it’s not like I know you.”
He tilted his head. “My name’s Mikey.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“More like, ‘nice to see you again,’ Cupcake.”
“Cupcake?”
“Yeah, because you-”
“That’s not my name. I’m-”
“I know who you are.”
He lifted his phone, and I stared at the string of letters written in the notes app.
My name. First and last.
“How?”
“You really don’t remember me?”
I frowned at him. He leaned back, arms spreading across the train seats behind him, that easy, ever-present smile on his face, a light pink in his cheeks.
“Come on! It was the last day of the semester and you gave me your only cupcake after-”
I felt my forehead wrinkle. What was he-
“The kid in the orange hoodie. That was you?”
He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “Bingo! You really helped me that night. And kid? I had just turned eighteen.”
“You’re saying I helped you?” I gaped. “You looked you had been run over by a train!”
Mikey laughed. “Instead of being on a train?”
I waved my hands, ignoring the joke. “And you didn’t listen to me when I told you that you needed to go to a hospital back then!”
“If I were human, I would have, but I heal pretty quick.”
“I didn’t even know you survived. You just, disappeared.”
“Well, as you can see,” he patted his chest, “I’m alive and well.”
I leaned back in my seat, remembering that night. I had just finished my first psychology class at community college. I had been so hopeful back then, thinking that if I worked hard enough, if I could hold down two jobs and go to school, I could make it. I wouldn’t be the failure my dad always told me I was, I wouldn’t go down the same route as he did, poor and with alcohol as my only friend.
The last class had a potluck, and I made homemade cupcakes. I only had one left and I was the last one to leave. On my way out, there was another student stumbling toward me. He took one more step and then fell flat on his face at my feet. It had been too dark to see his features. He refused to lower his hoodie, but even in the weak street lamps, I knew the shiny patches on his clothes were blood.
I helped him to a nearby bench, tried to call 911. He’d grabbed my arm to stop me. He begged me not to call for help. He told me that he was just tired, hungry, and just needed some time alone. But I didn’t leave. I couldn’t. I knew how much it hurt to be alone. I sat next to him, waiting to see if he would pass out so that she could call for an ambulance. He never did. He simply sat, and we just talked. I gave him my last cupcake and a bottle of water, thinking it would help with the blood loss.
I had been seventeen at the time. That was four years ago, before I dropped out because I couldn’t afford school. I had kept trying to go back, kept trying to work toward my dream, but money was always a problem.
“You gave me some good advice that night,” Mikey said, bringing me back to the present.
“Advice?”
“Yeah. I was talking to you about my brothers. Well, more like ranting about how they all treated me like a baby. You told me that you didn’t have any siblings, and that you would give anything to have someone in your life that loved you so much they wanted to protect you and care for you, even if it meant treating you like a baby.”
He tilted his head at me, sunshine in his golden eyes, in the tiny, yellow freckles that spotted across his snout. My face burned with heat. I didn’t remember telling him that.
“What did that to you?” I asked, waving my arm at his body. “I mean, I just saw you summon golden chains from nothing. What’s strong enough to-”
“My brother did,” Mikey answered easily, not even twitch of pain on his face.
My jaw dropped. “What?”
“Leo. The one with the sword. We’d had a fight.”
I clutched my purse to my side. “You looked like you were about to die.”
Mikey flinched a bit when he smiled. “Leo didn’t look any better, let me tell you.”
“Why? Why would you guys beat each other up like that?”
“Eh,” Mikey shrugged. “You know how it is with brothers and boys. We didn’t agree on something. It’s not as important now, but back then, tensions were high. And first we tried talking, and then we tried arguing, and then we had punch each other to try and get our point across until Raph and Donnie pulled us apart.” Mikey’s eyes glazed over, distant. “Four years ago, it was tough. We were still trying to heal, trying to get over losing our dad…and almost losing each other. That’s why what you said to me back then gave me the strength to talk to Leo later that night. We haven’t had a fight since.”
I wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about Mikey and his brother beating each other to a pulp, but butterflies were fluttering in my chest. I didn’t know I had helped him that much. At least I got to live a little bit of my dream. At least I got to help someone.
“What about you?” Mikey asked, his hand gesturing to my outfit. “Looks like you’ve gone places since community college.”
“Oh?” I looked down. “No. This is my interview outfit.”
“Going to get a job in community mental health?”
I shook my head. “I dropped out.”
“Aw, no. No way.”
He stood up from his chair, and came to sit next to me. I leaned away from him as he put his hands on the carpeted train seat and leaned forward to look at my face, his expression utterly distraught.
“What happened? You had everything planned out! A whole four year plan for getting your bachelor’s and everything.”
I did not feel shame for leaving school. Not at first. But then one gap semester turned into two, I had to move out from one apartment into a cheaper one, and then it was a year since I had taken classes, and then two years. I was never stable enough to do what I had screamed at my dad I would do the day he threw me out. And to see Mikey, looking almost heartbroken that I didn’t make it, and the fact that I was evicted, again-the tears finally fell.
“Hey.”
Mikey’s voice was soft.
He lifted my hand, holding it between his.
“Talk to me.”
He pressed the back of my hand to his cheek. It was warm.
“Everything okay?”
“It isn’t!”
My voice warbled, my words hissing through clenched teeth. With my free hand I wiped my eyes. I didn’t want to mess up my blazer by rubbing my nose on it, but the tears, the snot, it wouldn’t stop! Four years! No one had checked in on me. Four years with no friends because I had no time to make friends. Four years with no family, just days and days of back to back shifts. I had done everything right, I had worked so hard. For nothing.
I slumped forward, wanting to throw myself onto the floor, and just enjoy an epic tantrum because there was nothing else I could do. But Mikey pulled me into his arms instead, and I couldn’t think to stop him. Thoughts and memories blurred as words and cries tumbled out of my mouth. A compressed coil of pain and loneliness that had finally sprung within me. I cried and ranted and cursed until I was gasping for air, my throat hoarse, my body tired from thrashing, from fighting the invincible, unfair forces of the world.
I stopped. At some point. I was holding onto something study yet warm. I decompressed, air wheezing out of me as the last of my sobs shuddered through my bones. There was a hand on my back, sliding down along my spine and then back up to my neck. Slowly, softly. My shoulder was pressed into a strong chest, one that felt a little too hard, but one that breathed against me. Rise, fall, rise, fall, steady, like my own slowly calming heartbeat.
The train lurched.
I gasped, wriggling.
Strong arms pulled me back and Mikey nuzzled the top of my head with his jaw.
“I’m s-sorry! Did I get snot on you? Oh my god, I didn’t mean to-to throw myself-”
With a single finger, he pushed a lock of hair away from my forehead.
“It’s okay. I don’t judge.”
“I bet you’re disappointed,” I whispered.
“In you? Of course not. Why would I be?”
“Your savior turned out to be a total loser whose only talent is working a minimum wage job.”
“You’re not a loser,” Mikey soothed, rocking me back and forth. “Just human. The human world sucks sometimes.”
“And the yokai world is better?”
“I mean, it’s cool,” Mikey light up. “Like you wouldn’t believe! Mystic cities, magic spells, thrilling arenas. But it has its ups and downs too. I wouldn’t know though. I’m not a yokai.”
I squinted up at him and for the first time that night, I noticed more than just boyish good looks, and a sweet smile. He peered down at me, his expression open, playfulness in his curved mouth, and a promise of something dangerous resonating from deep within his eyes.
“Not yokai? Well, you’re certainly not human.”
“Half human,” he said. “Half mutant.”
“Mutant?”
“Mutant turtle, to be exact.”
“Oh.”
He raised an eyebrow at me, and then barked out a laugh.
“Would you rather I be a yokai? What did you think I was? Some kind of dragon?”
“N-no!”
I cringed. I’d just cried in the man’s lap and now-he must think I’m incredibly stupid.
“It’s cool. Don’t worry about it.”
My body jostled as he laughed.
“I didn’t mean to insult you. I just-”
“Not insulted.” Mikey pressed his cheek to my forehead. “I’m one of a kind, baby. Not everyday you run into someone like that. And it’s not everyday I get to comfort a beautiful girl, down on her luck, on a subway train. Talking about living that dream of being someone’s hero.”
“Beautiful?”
He looked down at me, eyelids lowered halfway, smokey appreciation swirling in his pupils. “I didn’t stutter.”
“How could you say that when I’m a total mess?”
The rough pad of his finger pressed under my chin, tilting my head back, bearing my throat to him. He licked his lips.
“I’m an artist. I know beauty when I see it.”
I tucked my face into shoulder to hide the burning in my cheeks. He smelled nice. Not wearing any cologne or body spray. He smelled like spring and sunshine. I tried to pull my legs back and shifted to stand.
“I really should get off of-”
Mikey’s hand cuffed around my calf, holding me in place.
“Hey-”
“Come home with me,” he said.
“W-what?”
“You have nowhere to go, right? Come with me. My family can help you. I can take care of you. Until you get on your feet. I owe you that much.”
“All I did was lend you an ear and give you a cupcake!”
“So? It was enough. It was what I needed.”
“I can’t just-I barely know you.”
“You could get to know me.”
He gripped my shoulder, his arm flexing across my back.
“I can give you a warm place to sleep.”
He tipped me back. I drew my legs up, worry lurching in my stomach that I might fall off his lap. Worry, and something else. A thrill? Soothing darkness settled my thoughts as he leaned down over me, golden eyes burning into mine.
“No rent needed.”
Fingertips moved up my calf, over my knee, my thigh, barely touching my skin through my nylons, leaving me tingling under his caress.
“Keep you out of the cold, dark street.”
His hand moved over my hip, my waist, his palm flattening against my side, fingertips digging lightly into the flesh of my breast, until his palm was holding my cheek.
“Keep you safe.”
His breath danced against my lips.
My voice trembled. “What’s the catch?”
“I get to keep you. My savior. The girl I’ve been thinking about for four years.”
His snout pressed against my cheek, lips brushing mine but not completely touching as he nuzzled my face. His thumb was rough against my skin, hands that were hardened by power I could not even begin to imagine, but his touch, the slow, deliberate back and forth on my cheekbone, was gentle, soothing.
He was dangerous. He was powerful. Who knew what his family were up to. Whisked away into his world, giving into the temptation dancing in his golden gaze, what would happen to me?
“Say yes,” Mikey cooed. “Let me be what you need.”
“W-what do I need?”
“Something stable. So that you wouldn’t have to hustle so much to reach your dreams.”
“Is-is that all?”
His eyes shot to my lips. “Is there more you want?”
“Yes.”
“Yes to more, or yes to coming with me?”
“Yes to both,” I rasped.
“That’s my girl.”
I yelped. His hand grabbed a fistful of my hair, tilting my head back. Sharp teeth appeared in Mikey’s smile as he loomed over me, his tongue sliding from one canine to another. He leaned in, the tip of his fang lightly grazing the soft skin of my neck. Then he bit down, teeth sinking into my jugular. He didn’t break the skin, but I hissed in a breath from the sting. My sharp inhale quickly stopped when I felt this tip of his tongue against my neck. Wet, hot, a soft breath to soothe the ache from his teeth.
He suckled on the spot, branding me with his lips while his other hand wandered away from my cheek. His hand slid under my pencil skirt, nails dancing along my skin.
Alarmed, I kicked my legs.
“D-don’t rip that!”
He stilled for a moment, leaning back from me. His face neutral, but his gaze molten and burning, he turned to look at my legs. The hand on my back pushed me to sit, and I held still when I felt him press a palm on my thigh. He squeezed me, a handful of my skin, muscles and blood in his hands, eyes narrowing.
“Don’t move, Cupcake.”
His hand slipped under my skirt again, fingers hooking into the wasteland of my pantyhose. With deft fingers, he slid the garment down my legs, along with my panties. I made a small squeak when both clothes nearly touched the subway seats, but Mikey simply bundled them in his big hand. Turning back toward me, he kept his eyes on mine as he slipped the bundled up bits of fabric into the pocket of his slacks. I was stunned, but all thoughts of it flew from my mind the moment he lifted me up to his lips.
Fire raced down my throat and burned into my heart from the contact. I pressed into him, willing for him to take what he wanted, but still I couldn’t help but jump when tipped my head back again, taking advantage of my gasp of surprise. His tongue was much wider and longer than I thought, slipping easily between my lips and sliding along mine as though he’d already kissed me a thousand times.
I threw my arms around his shoulders. Hardness met my hands and I spread my fingers, exploring. The surface underneath his shirt was tough, but smooth. His shell, my remaining logic supplied. I felt Mikey’s knuckles sliding against my collarbone, and then his tie loosened form his neck. He grabbed one of my wrists and pulled, slapping my palm into his chest. The keratin covering his chest was smooth, and moved with him when he breathed. Evenly, calmly, steadily. How? I could barely breathe as he nipped my lower lip between his teeth and then surged his tongue against mine, drool slipping down my chin from the contact.
My head felt light. I was so tired, I wanted to collapse against him, submit and let him do whatever he wanted, not keep fighting to keep up with him, to stay active in a dance where I was losing track of the steps. His kiss was so inviting, the scratch of his long canine against my tongue and lips making me want to delve deeper, risk entering the viper’s den for nothing more than the rush that came from dancing with danger.
I nearly cried when his tongue slipped from my mouth, slid over my lips and down to my jaw, where he bit and sucked on the skin, turning my head to the side, taking more of my neck between his teeth and lips. My hand slip up his chest until my fingers curled over the top of his plastron. It was something to hold onto, something to ground me, something to make sure the rest of my body existed as his lips, fangs and tongue left mark after mark on my neck.
“So sweet,” he rumbled against me. “It’s such a shame.”
I tensed.
“I can’t have you the way I want. Not here.” He chuckled. “I should’ve taken you home first.”
“Mikey?”
“Hmm. Sounds nice. I wonder what it would sound like when you scream my name.”
I swallowed. “If you want me so much, why is it a shame?”
“I want so, so much. Four years of wanting, there’s so much I want to do, it’s just, I can’t wait any longer. I need you now. But even so…” His voiced dipped low, a growl rumbling through me as he spoke, “I’m not leaving this train I have you fainting against me.”
I was moved before I could even process what was happening. Sitting his lap, with his hands on my knees, my back to his chest. He was pushing my knees apart, hooking my legs outside of his, my skirt stretching. The fabric stopped my legs from opening further, and with a growl, Mikey lifted the skirt over my hips, and suddenly my legs and pussy were completely bare. On a public train. With my wetness leaking out of me and into Mikey’s slacks.
Before my mind could even dare to feel shame of being so exposed, even in an empty train car, Mikey turned my head and captured my lips again, his hands spreading my legs wider, the stale air of the train fluttering along my exposed skin. His hand cupped my neck, keeping me from escaping his kiss. I couldn’t have tried to escape even if I had wanted to, too wrapped up in him, in the way his tongue dipped deep into my throat, in the way his teeth nibbled lightly into my lower lip. It was messy, slippery saliva dripping down between the two of us, and I pushed into him, wanting more of him, to drink in his youthful and carefree energy, his easy strength, his everything.
I could have been locked in a prison of kisses and not cared for anything else. My body lit up like a thousand tiny suns and my legs shook as sweet pain began to twist deep my core. Mewling into his mouth, I shuddered for a moment, suddenly needing to rip away from him, to breathe, to scream, as the honey like pain began to pulse deep within me.
Mikey chuckled against my mouth, thumb sweeping over my jaw, pressing into my bones, keeping me locked to him even as I wriggled from need so heavy and intense, my entire body started to tremble. And then he pressed his hand into my lower stomach, long fingers reaching downward between my legs, his palm pressing inward. And then, pressure. Intense, painful, wonderful pressure that shot straight into my core.
I wasn’t sure how I found the strength to tear my lips away from his, I wasn’t even sure if the moan that came out of my own mouth was my own voice. By the time I the sounds had even echoed in my ears, I was already whining desperately as Mikey’s fingers found my clit and began to play with me as though I were some instrument that had to be manipulated to make the the most high pitched, chaotic cadenza possible.
His other hand found my breast, squeezing me through my shirt, and I didn’t care that my blouse was being stretched, that the buttons were popping off, or that my chest was too small for him to properly palm, as his fingers stretched over my sternum and ribs. None of it mattered. The heat from his hand traveled straight through my blouse and bra into my skin. The way his fingertips drummed along my breast, the way the squeeze matched the harsh, strokes against my clit. My head was reeling in a heady mist of lust and need, a swirling storm of please, please, please! My body needed him, so much need, so much-
“Just a little longer.”
Mikey’s words broke through the cocktail of desperation and intoxication, the sound of his voice sending shockwaves though me.
“You’re almost there, Cupcake, but not yet, just hold out a little longer.”
I opened my mouth to say that I couldn’t, not with his hands digging into all my weak spots, but if I had been stupid enough to believe that I was at my limit before, I was marvelously proven wrong when Mikey’s hand left my breast and sunk into my cunt instead.
My legs kicked, and I nearly slammed my knees together on Mikey’s hands from pure shock, but he hooked his ankles around mine and kept me still as his fingers pumped in time with his hand on my clit, sinking into me. Too thick, thicker than my own fingers, and long, reaching farther than I had ever gone on my own, his fingers separating inside me, stretching my inner muscles, curling against hidden spots I hadn’t known I had. I knocked my head back against Mikey’s shoulder, sounds I had never heard myself make escaping my mouth. Too weak to do anything in any other muscle, I bucked down onto his hands, and felt the delicious and painful surge of inner and outer nerves screaming from stimulation.
My body lit up with stimuli from other senses, but they were distant, barely noticeable as everything in me zeroed in on one spot, collapsing inward like a dying star ready to burst. My ears heard my own moans, my eyes could still see colors and shapes through blurry, teary eyed vision, my skin still felt drool leak from mouth, my back felt some kind of trilling vibration from Mikey’s chest, but my body screamed and sang, overpowering everything else, even Mikey’s words.
“There you are,” he panted, “you’re about to burst. Fall apart for me. I can hold all of your pieces. Cum for me. Right now.”
His fingers plunged, faster, deeper, invited in and with no resistance from how wet I had gotten. He pressed down, hard, on my clit, and it happened, I fell apart, my legs straining against his, my chest heaving and my back arching against hot, searing bands that were suddenly holding me down, pressing me back against Mikey even as I squirmed and bucked. Pieces of me flew out in different directions, the energy that had he pumped into me finally overflowing. A whole universe of tears, of moans and whines, and desperate pleas for more. My throat was hoarse. Air burned on the way down, but I didn’t care.
I tensed and tensed and tensed, giving up everything in the moment, until there was no more to release, until all I could do was collapse backward and pump oxygen into my abused muscles, my body boneless and buzzing with residual pleasure from the most intense orgasm I’d ever had.
How long had I been neglecting myself? Surviving meant I’d had not even had time for a boyfriend, let alone dates and one night stands. Outside of having one boyfriend in high school, a guy that did not have nearly as much confidence and talent in his fingers as Mikey had, no one else had touched me in years. It was like I had never experienced pleasure before, the sensations familiar and yet completely new all at the same time. The release was so good, it had bordered on pain, my lower belly hurt, my inner muscles clenching on Mikey’s hands, still deep inside me.
Eyes closed against him, I drifted for a bit in a heady cloud of bliss, feeling the rush of air flowing into my lungs as my breathing slowed. My own heartbeat rhythmically thumped in time with a strange, low, humming coming from behind me. My eyes fluttered open at some point, and something gold appeared in my vision. I rubbed the fresh tears out of my eyes, looking down at my body.
Mikey’s arms were wrapped around me, one of his hands cupping my groin, the other resting against my belly, his thumb rubbing little circles. Golden chains were wrapped around my waste, across my shoulders, and looped around each of my legs. They weren’t tight, but they glowed, expanding and contracting like a lung, all around me. I ran a finger along the chain links across my chest, and was surprised to see that they were warm, smooth, and definitely solid.
“D-did,” I croaked. Swallowing, I tried again. “Did you chain me down?”
“Sorry.”
Mikey exhaled, releasing the chains. They broke apart, fluttering away like flower petals in the wind.
“My hands were full, and I didn’t want you falling off my lap.”
I rolled my eyes back, looking up at his jaw in a daze.
He turned to look at me, his grin wide and brilliant. My heart skipped.
“Feeling a little better, Cupcake?”
There was nowhere for me to go, but I still shrunk away from his look as a rush of warm heat and shyness consumed me from the inside. Damn. Not even my high school boyfriend had seen me like this. So exposed. So open. Even though my shirt and blazer still covered my chest, even though my skirt was pinching a little too hard where it had been bundled up into my waist, I’d never felt more naked. More vulnerable. So completely at someone else’s mercy. I looked down at our bodies, the way the my legs were spread wide over his, air still tingling my sensitive clit and pussy from between his fingers. He still hadn’t let me go.
“M-Mikey.”
“Hmm?”
“Are we going to get off the train now?”
He nuzzled my hair. “I can’t wait that long. I’m barely holding it together as it is.”
“Can’t wait that long for what?”
“To be inside you.”
A pressed my lips together as a squeak reverberated from deep in my chest.
Right.
We hadn’t gotten there yet.
I’d been so lost in him that I’d completely forgotten that part of sex. A new rush of hot, boiling want rushed through my blood.
Mikey shifted behind me, reaching down under my ass. The sound of unzipping reached my ears. His chest heaved against my back as something wet and long slipped out between his legs. My teeth bit painfully into my lower lip.
If his fingers had been thick, then it was nothing compared to his cock. Wide, with pronounced veins that went over ridges I’d never seen before. Under the wide, heart shaped tip, were several ridges that tapered off toward the middle of his shaft. I swallowed at his length, and the way it seemed to get wider near the base, as if he wasn’t already too big.
Mikey wrapped his arms around my waist and scooted forward on the seat, his shoes planted firmly on the floor, while my bare feet dangled inches from it. When had my shoes flown off? I spotted the black heels lying carelessly under a subway seat right across from me. Had I flung them off when I was kicking my legs? Images of myself, absolutely thriving in ecstasy made me flush red hot, and made my cunt pulse. I was boiling, and if Mikey didn’t do something about it soon, I was sure I would melt from it.
Just as quickly as he had done before, I was flipped, turning around to face him, my chest crashing into his plastron, my knees digging into the fabric of the subway seat. I would have winced, glaring discontent at Mikey for the new position, if his attention weren’t on me. He looked down between us, and I caught the pink head of his cock resting low against my abdomen.
With buttery muscles, I pressed my knees into the seat, lifting my ass upward, angling my body closer to him. Mikey looked up at me, his brow furrowed, eyes pleading with me, as though I held the secrets of the universe and was refusing to tell him anything. Resting my hands on his shoulders, I waited for him to align himself with me, squeezing my eyes shut and humming a moan when I felt the tip of his cock press into me. I could do this, the logical part of my mind encouraged as I imagined him sinking into me. I eased myself down.
Imagination was bullshit.
Nothing compared to the sensation of being spread wide and pulled down onto him. Mikey’s hands sunk into my hips and pushed me down. I grip my teeth, trying not to buck upward as the ridges on his cock dug into my inner walls right after his head went fully inside me.
“S-slow,” I begged.
Even wet and ready, it was not an easy descent. I hadn’t used those muscles in so long, and never with anything that big, and Mikey grunted underneath me. Whether it was affirm or deny my request I wasn’t entirely sure, but when I felt him pull my hips forward, my clit rubbing against the buttons and fabric on his shirt, I nearly forgot about the burn of being stretched passed my limit.
Mikey moved me, lifting me up, and then pulling me down, deeper. Up, relief and anguish, down, stretch, burn, more pressure, more pleasure, up again, down again, deeper, deeper, deeper. I couldn’t breathe. Mikey hissed, and with a buck of his hips, I was suddenly so full, I wasn’t sure if the liquid sliding down my jaw was sweat, drool or tears.
So much.
Too much!
My belly bulged with it, my insides compressed from both his cock and how tightly he was pressing me to him. He gasped into my shoulder.
“Knew you’d be oh so sweet.”
He groaned, a low, vibration that rippled against me. I tested my body, rocking back and forth, squeezing my eyes shut at the instant sensations that tingled deep inside my core. Mikey squeezed me tighter to him, a low groan of appreciation muffled into my shoulder. It burned, as though a star had come to life inside me, but I didn’t care. I wanted the burn, I wanted more, I needed to-
“Move,” I whispered into Mikey’s temple.
I saw his eyes widen for a moment, before he blurred into motion.
I screamed so loud when the first thrust hit me hard in my cervix. If there had been people on this train, everyone in all the other train cars would have heard me. Then came the next thrust, and the next, and the next, along with Mikey’s rising groans and growls in my ear. He wrapped his arms around my back and kept he pressed against him as he bucked up into me. My knees ached from bouncing up and down on him. He was bulky, and I couldn’t get my heels behind him. The seat was too small.
I cried out when Mikey suddenly stood, stumbling forward, his hand reaching out to tightly grab onto a nearby pole. Without the subway seat to hold him back and with me slightly hanging off him, he used his other arm to move me back and forth on his cock. I was desperate to claw something, to keep myself from sliding off his dick and crashing into the floor. Even with Mikey’s strong arm in the small of my back, a shot of fear raced through me from from how precariously I was hanging off him, only my thighs squeezing his sides and my arms around his neck keeping me in place.
Gold flashed in my eyes.
“Not going anywhere,” Mikey growled down from above me. “Except down, onto me.”
A chain wrapped around my legs, anchoring me to him. Another looped around my back. One more behind my shoulder blades. And then I was no more than a pendulum, pulled back and forth in the air so fast, with nothing beneath me and Mikey covering my whole world above. He slid me along on him, his heavy gasps and deep moans filling my ears, mixing with my own. I quickly realized how much I loved his shell, as there was so much bulk for me to grab with my hands, so much to try to sink my fingertips into. His cock hit deep, hard, fast, brutally punching my cervix thanks to the slight angle he kept us in.
He thrust down into me, and the only thing that kept me from toppling and hanging uselessly, as he grabbed my hips and pushed even harder, making stars burst inside every part of my body, were the chains tightening around us, trapping me to him.
“F-fuck!”
I fisted the fabric of his shirt, I heard ripping, I felt cool, smoothness under my fingertips, and the rock solid heat of Mikey pounding into me again and again, all while the tightening chains around us pushed me closer to him, forcing my clit to rub against something hard over Mikey’s groin and it wasn’t going to end. Time lost all meaning, nothing but the bump and pump of his cock in me mattered.
And then Mikey moved us again.
I squealed and he lunged forward, letting go of the pole so that his hand could fly up behind my head. The chains faded away, and my back hit something cold and hard. Whatever solid thing I hit didn’t hurt, because in the next second, Mikey had followed the forward momentum of his sudden lurch and used it to bury his cock cleanly into me again.
Desperate, sobbing, keening sounds erupted from my throat, I lost all the strength in my limps, hanging like a rag doll between Mikey and the wall and letting him take everything he wanted. His hands grabbed and squeezed the underside of my thighs, moving me up and down against him. Just how strong was he?
“So. Soft.”
He panted, leaning forward, his breath puffing against my cheek.
“Ah, I can’t stop,” he wheezed. “So tight. So good.”
The new angle forced him up into me, gravity pushing me back down, and there was no meaning in the act anymore. Primal, animalistic, it built upon itself, each movement more addicting then the last, my entire body tingling as thrust after thrust was never enough and-it happened before I could notice it creeping up on me, before I could stop it, before I even realized that what the agony of my heart bursting from too much physical strain even meant. I couldn’t scream anymore, the climax ripped out of me with a wordless cry, and the tightening of the muscles deep inside my core. My world blurred with white, bliss carrying me away.
I was overflowing and the energy had nowhere to go but back into me, locking me a cycle of endless bliss. I vaguely felt movement, felt my body being used, but the joy of floating in white nothing, of leaning helplessly against something solid, was too tempting to come away from.
Until one last, violent thrust from Mikey brought me back to a moment of clarity and I was filled with one final climax. I thrashed against him. To come down from one explosion, only for another to burst right after-it was too much! The pleasure was so intense, that it invited pain, as my muscles clenched too tightly and my body did not know what to do with the excess.
He pushed deep into me, filling me completely, squeezing me impossibly close as though trying to meld us into one person, his body shuddering as my release washed over him and pushed him over the edge himself.
I kicked my legs and reached out for something to grab on to, My hand fisted the tails of Mikey’s orange mask. I yanked. My body was no longer my own. Nerve endings were firing endlessly. Mikey’s head snapped back, showing me his clenched teeth. His eyes were squeezed shit, still the the throes of sexual torment and complete surrender. Seeing him like that, completely lost as I had been, a small, aware part of me swelled with pride.
But the feeling washed away quick. Hot waves of release still pummeled me, and I was too tired to fight, even as pure, lovely torture burst from deep within my core, where he was still pushing against my innermost muscles. How long he kept me pressed against the wall, I wasn’t sure. How could he still be standing, even though I could feel his cum dripping out of me and onto the floor? Had I any sense, I would have wondered, and it was only later that I considered the implications of it. Much later. After I would wake up in Mikey’s bed back at his home.
All my strength was gone, and Mikey could have dropped me and I would have crumbled to the floor in a mushy heap. Instead he swiveled on his heel, turning like a top, using a nearby pole to spin us before he sat his ass down onto one of the subway chairs. I cried out, the downward motion had made him pull out of me, almost to the tip, before skewering me down to the base of his cock when he sat back down.
I hit his plastron, sobbing.
“Easy,” Mikey soothed, his jaw pressed into my air.
“I can’t anymore,” I begged. “Too much.”
“I know. You did so well. Rest for now.”
His voice was even. Sex raspy, but no longer breathless.
“Breathe deep, and relax. I’ve got you.”
I shuddered against him, leaning my head against his shoulder, appreciating the hardness against my chest, a constant, soothing thing that was there until my breathing finally evened out. There was too much to understand, too much to ask and put together. His cock, still hard, still squirting away inside me, the train starting to slow down, the humming coming from his chest and tingling into my heart. The future, uncertain, and unknown, was no longer a thought.
I’d been sapped of everything.
Everything.
I felt alive, and used, and drained. All at once.
There was a soft kiss to my temple.
Wetness was still pooling between my legs. My body still singing, but the song getting ever more distant, darkness wafting into my vision.
“Time to go home,” said a soft voice. “I’ll take good care of you, Cupcake. Then we can do this again and we can be fully naked and take our sweet, sweet time.”
That voice carried me away, and warm, loving, sleep enveloped me.
Mikey stared out the train windows, watching as the familiar graffiti and secret passages appeared beyond. They were getting closer to his family’s lair. He looked down at his prize as she slept soundly against his chest, her dark hair tussled around her face. She was sitting in his lap, her side pressed to his chest. He kept one of his hands under her knees, so that he could easily lift her up, bridal style, when their stop came. He adjusted his blazer around her. The hem of the dark coat reached the her thighs knees, hiding all the cum that had pooled in her pencil skirt when he had pulled out of her and adjusted her clothing.
What was the point in even hiding it? Once those train doors opened, his brothers would know by scent alone. Not to mention the mess they’d made on the floor when he’d taken her against the wall. He laughed silently at that, proud of himself for literally knocking her shoes off.
The train stopped, the doors across from him hissing as they opened.
Donnie, now wearing his evening hoodie and slacks, came in with a disgruntled look on his face.
“Couldn’t you have done this anywhere else?” He snapped. "Do you know how unsanitary these things are?”
“Sorry, Dee. I saw a chance and I took it.”
“You realize she’s involved in this now, whether she likes it or not. She was a witness and we have to keep her out of the underworld’s eye.”
Mikey nodded. “Thanks for not stopping the train until I told you to.”
Mikey stood, holding his previous Cupcake to him. Her head lolled against the crook of his shoulder. He could still feel the weight of her pantyhose and underwear in his pocket. He couldn’t keep the cheeky grin off his face. He’d have to get her into some new clothes. She couldn’t very well rest in tussled business wear.
Donnie wrinkled his snout.
“I’m not picking those up.”
Mikey looked down at the black stiletto shoes that were thrown about the train car.
“Leave ‘em,” he said. “I can buy another pair. Besides,” he grinned, “makes for a better art piece, don’t you think.”
Donnie looked affronted. “Gross. Between you and Leo, I can’t tell who is worse when it comes to your…escapades.”
“Don’t be jealous,” Mikey said, finally entering the lair.
“Hardly. I just prefer to be sanitary.”
“Yeah, but dirty is what makes it more fun.”
“Says you.”
The train doors closed behind him, and Mikey watched as the subway flew out the lair, back to join all the other trains that ran through the city day in and day out. He tried not to giggle at the idea of someone coming into the train car and finding clear evidence of sex in there. Can’t get any more raw art than that one.
“I’ll have S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N send some extra blankets and necessities to your room,” Donnie said.
“Thanks, Dee.”
Mikey turned toward the stairs the led to the lair proper. He took his prize to his room, cleaned her up, and watched the steady rise and fall of her chest in her new orange pajama set. He didn’t want to leave her, wanted to bask in the serenity of having her so close and safe, nestled deep in the sheets within his bed, his nest. But he wanted to have a hot meal for her when she woke up. She would have a lot of questions, and there was a lot to do to make sure she was comfortable.
He’d found her again after four years. He was not ever letting her go. He couldn’t even if he had wanted to. She’d seen his brothers and their dealings. She had no place to go now. Funny how things worked out that way.
She was his to care of now.
And he would do everything he could to make her happy.