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afreakingdork · 3 months

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Weak Spot - Chapter 55

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Don is hard at work just like @garbagemilkshake with this week's chapter art!

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis: A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Shout out to @damniteggs for helping me out with technical questions!

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

LAST WARNING FOR THE 🍋 UNDER THE CUT. MINORS DNI!

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: folds, couple cunts, slit, pussy, cum drinking, and pregnancy mention

“I think it’s an easy comparison to make with what’s happening with the current climate.”

“The sociocultural norms are incomparable.”

“Are they? If we look at-” Several noises came from Donnie’s person to interrupt you.

You blinked wide as he searched around, clearly looking within his glasses. He then shot his gaze across the room toward where his computer had lit up red before he turned a similar shade and stormed over to it.

“What’s… happening…?” You knew he probably needed a moment but the tanking in your stomach offset your rational thought.

“Some mite is attempting to hack my system.” He seethed in a way that you could hear the grind of his teeth.

“Is that…?”

“Impossible.” In a shift, his screens switched from alerts to data. That not being enough, he raised a hand where several holographic screens also appeared and he began typing out on a semicircle of information. “A paltry attempt, but it has been awhile.”

You sank into the couch to watch his display.

Teetering on an edge of fervor, his hands swiped through the air in a contrasting fluid dance to his furious aura and he cracked his neck at the ready. “Let’s decimate this microbe that thinks themselves an encroacher.”

You gave Donnie a generous 15 minutes to clear that up and got onto your phone to beef up your facts for the discussion that had been left behind. Not really checking the time for your countdown, you instead drifted to fill the space until you got a sense that it had been awhile. Looking up found your partner still going through marshaller motions, but clips of his face said his anger had subsided. Villainous ice now ran through his expression and the work held all his attention.

Wondering about whoever it was that could eat up Donnie’s time, you gave him space and moved to busy yourself. It was sometime around the two hour mark where you checked in to find him nearly identically placed. With code flying around him as if he were playing multidimensional chess, you had once had plans to go out that evening, but you canceled for his sake.

He continued to toil through dinner where you scrounged up something for both of you. With a bowl for him, you approached slowly and tested his space at a low volume “They still giving you trouble?”

He flicked you and the bowl quick glances before resuming his work. “Hardly, I kicked them out within the first few minutes.”

You nodded and were left holding not a bag, but a dish.

“You can put that up.” He said simply and with a toss, he pushed all the screens aside and leaned down to peck your cheek. “I’ve uncovered something and I need to focus.”

He stayed just long enough for you to return his gesture. “Eat this at some point.”

Donnie’s silence as he brought his displays back up said there were no promises.

In three days time, Donnie had become a fixture. Not moving from his desk unless absolutely necessary, he worked with a level of obsession. It was easy enough to give him space, but you worried about his well-being. Since he wouldn’t step away, you were left to bring him necessities. Starting with drinks, if you left him a glass, he would sip it as it was something he could do without thought. Food, on the other hand, was not something he would divide enough attention for. It meant that after the second day of not eating, you switched to giving him meal replacement shakes to make up for the lost calories.

If he noticed, he said little and only drank down whatever you offered him.

Sleep a bargaining chip you’d had to secede on, you relegated most of your interactions to ones in passing. You could get a quick prick of affection before leaving for work, coming home, and heading to bed. It was the most you could wrangle out of him and that was fine. You wasted little time during these moments for details as to what exactly he was up to were similarly scarce, but he’d been able to pass off minute notes on how he was building a sort of program.

The question of why was still up in the air, but it was in washing dishes on the fourth night that Donnie leaned back. A heavy toss of his body weight in his chair, he rolled a few feet away and folded his arms satisfied behind his head.

You kept your excitement to a minimum even though the smile on his face said there’d been some level of competition.

He allowed one single exhale before his expression fell to an abysmal one.

Your heart sank with suds and you scrubbed a dish to temper yourself.

He allowed his tongue to appear as he exhaled revulsion and then stood. “Disgusting.”

You watched him before a certain smile came to your lips. “You?”

“I detest how these jaunts make me forget basic hygiene.” He waved a hand in parting as he headed towards the bathroom.

You finished up the dishes and were lounging on the couch by the time he returned, showered and pressed. You saw him swim over the back of the sofa like a shark before, with little warning, you were hoisted up and he exchanged his body for yours with you in his lap. He then rooted his warm washed form into yours, drinking in your scent greedily for a single moment before he found the lack of his and began to scrub.

“Ack! Donnie!” You feigned swatting at him when in reality you were taking in those muscles of his with eager squeezes.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke into your throat.

“It’s okay…” You told him truthfully. “I get it. I was only worried about your health.”

He hummed a curious rumble that teetered on a churr. “I do usually come to weaker.”

“I’ve been sneaking you those meal drinks.” You peppered kisses along his masked temple.

His air said he was impressed with the idea, but he buried himself further into you.

“I am pretty curious what happened though…?”

The attentive sounds he was making soured.

“Whenever you’re ready.” You shook your head hopelessly against him.

He relented with a final squeeze before surfacing. “You’re owed that and more.”

You reached up and brushed his cheek slowly.

He lulled, sleep rushing him against your hand.

“Better hurry before you pass out.”

“The hacker wasn’t a single entity.” Donnie explained, fighting his lids. “As soon as I shut down and ousted the one that got through, I found ties to a sort of coalition; some pitiful new group wanting to make a name for themselves.”

“By attacking the best?” You switched your grip so your nails were scratching just under his jaw bone.

“Harder. There…” He hummed dreamily.

You added your other hand to mirror the itch.

He gave a loud euphoric churr that he had to fight to continue speaking. “Not just… me… Doubt they knew… it was me… Were… going down… an account… listing…”

You leaned in to kiss his beak and rouse him to a point.

He chased your lips, but you kept him at bay.

He made a small noise of irritation before reluctantly pulling your hands from him.

“They were hitting diversified holdings and happened to tap one of my own.” He gave you a gorgeous smile that barely hid malcontent. “How unfortunate for them.”

“Bad luck.” You copied him to an extent.

He was especially pleased and used his weight to tug you down onto the couch with him. “Their program and team were interesting enough. After breaking down their code, I began to investigate if there was more and indeed there was.”

“The coalition you said?” With a wiggle, you were snuggled on top of his pectoral scutes.

“They’re employed.” He rose an interested brow as he finally let his eyes shut. “I thought I might find a familiar player behind it all, but they were smart enough to employ a league of shell corporations.”

“I’m assuming you found the source by following the money?”

He gave a sleepy smile. “Yes, a newcomer. Made by parent’s money, raised by capitalism, schooled with the best, and interestingly enough, hungry.”

“Hungry?” You tapped his plastron to keep him awake. “I don’t want you sleeping here.”

He groaned first in his throat and then loud out of his mouth. “I care for your needs, but keep interrupting!”

“Sounds like me.” You pushed down on him to get up and he grunted after you.

Not looking back you walked straight over to the bed and readied yourself as he tackled you through the canopy and into the sheets.

Giggling all the way, you fought against him to get him tucked in. “You’re almost there. Go on.”

His eyes rolled under his lids. “Those types of brats typically come out lazy, but this one had plans of grandeur. Ambition.”

“Past tense ‘had’…?”

“He’s still alive.” Donnie quirked a brow.

“What did you do?”

“True…” He had a comedic sort of guilt to him. “I am getting ahead of myself.”

You bopped his beak.

He nipped lazily at you and cracked an eye. “What I’ve described encapsulated the first evening's research. The rest was used to build a program. Tomorrow I will enact it, ruining the construction of what he hoped to be his empire.”

You stared down at him and felt conflicted by how impressed you were.

“His family. His connections. All destitute. I’m excited to see if that hunger is a real one.”

“You’re making another villain…”

“Why bother being one if you aren’t prepared to lose it all?”

“Donnie…”

“Morality.” He spoke simply. “The worst case scenario is I gain a new foe. I calculated that chance heavily.”

You scooted up to send a frown down at him.

He opened his eyes to accept it and pet your back. “I would never make a move if it could jeopardize you in the slightest. While I may not have attended to you. I thought of you often.”

“How selfless of you.” You retorted dryly.

He was inclined to agree and got up enough to nudge your head. “This event has made me think about my own holdings.”

“Yeah…?” You leaned against him.

He nodded. “Ones… I… I’m not sure I’m ready to discuss.”

“Oh…”

“I need more information. Taking down this entity is part of that.”

“You’re also having fun.”

“I admit it has seemed a nice return.”

You let a bubble of doubt surface.

He’d appeared so comfortable.

Had you been keeping him from doing what he loved?

In closing your eyes, you reassured yourself.

There was more than what was said and you trusted him.

This was also the first time you’d actually seen him in his element.

You excluded turtle interaction as mortal enemies had another place in a villains’ rogue’s gallery and whatever happened with Big Mama had so many layers of polite society slapped on top of it, it hardly seemed a fair judgment of what he was like on his own.

This was Donnie toying with those beneath him and delighting in it.

You leaned your lips against his head. “Be safe.”

“I will. My life is no longer solely my own.” He gave you one last reassuring nudge before falling back into the bed.

“I need you.” You tacked on.

“And I you.” He made sure his eyes were open enough to translate his honesty.

You took it with a hopeless sort of smile. “Alright, that’s enough. You sleep.”

He hummed appreciation and let himself drift off.

He slept straight through your evening routine and woke up with you first thing in the morning. A form of making up time, he seemed particularly chipper as he joined you in getting ready for the day. Despite being groggy yourself, you couldn’t help but languish in his full attention. You’d missed this and brought your cuddles all the way to the door where you both gave deep reluctance to part.

“When’s your plan start? Think I’ll see something on the news?” You mumbled into his plastron.

“Evidence.” He scoffed into your hair.

You chuckled and turned up to kiss him.

He returned it with a faint loving churr. “10am our time.”

“Good luck.” You spoke against his lips.

He surfaced a little to look at you with an interested attention.

“What?”

He shook his head and tried to hide into you.

“Donnie…” You wedged your arms between you in an attempt to catch him.

He relented with a pout. “A foreign concept.”

“Someone wishing you luck like this?” You pressed into him.

He nodded a forlorn weight to his eyes.

“It’s… strange.” You offered. “But I support you and if you need to do this then I know it’s important.”

You saw him weigh passing you a certain special phrase before he pocketed it openly to give you another kiss.

“I’m gonna be late…” You murmured against his mouth.

“I haven’t requested you quit in a while…” He ruminated as he extracted himself.

You shouldered your bag. “Probably want to keep it that way considering I don’t do the same…”

He seemed struck by the comparison and gave a single wide-eyed nod.

“See you later.” You sent him a flirty look and slipped out.

You felt him peek his head out to watch you head down the hall before you rounded a corner and lost track of him.

You’d opened the door with full confidence upon coming home only to find Donnie a mess.

You’d dropped your things at the door to rush over to him.

An erratic energy coming off of him, he only barked for you to stay back.

You did so with raised palms and took him in. His monitors were highlighted a particularly warm shade of purple and one screen near the center ticked with a large stopwatch. Around where Donnie was spread at the edge of his computer chair, his hands were out in a flurry and his head snapped around with the speed of a small bird.

You had a question on your lips about what was happening, but a small, out of place dialog box appeared to interrupt.

“Ha!” Donnie growled victorious before numbers appeared in it and he slammed its input in and it disappeared.

The timer reset to zero.

Your boyfriend sank back into his seat.

You tested edging closer.

He lolled his head to you. “Apologies. Welcome home.”

You shook your head and gave your chest a single squeeze to translate he’d scared you.

He held out a hand and you came close enough for him to reel you in. “Please speak. I am sorry I yelled.”

“What was that?”

He gave an annoyed snort, but not at you. “I took out the usual safeties, firewalls, and the like, but he had something secretive in place. Something not tied to his usual accounts.”

You stiffened and he squeezed to soothe you.

“That coalition I mentioned.”

You nodded and slung a tentative arm around him.

“They’re putting theirs and all their contacts onto trying to find me.”

You looked down at him and caught how he was avoiding your eye. “Donnie…”

“It’s a game now.” He gestured to the screen with his chin. “This is not proper hacking. The act of which is a boring one of writing code and waiting for it to implement. Not an exact cat and mouse, instead imagine them moving blindly. They are trying to locate any of my many programs or S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. while we move the pieces away from them. The only thing they have in excess is manpower.”

“I’m not sure what you’re saying…?”

“How it should work is you set a program loose and see how it fairs. Success or not, you adjust. With this many people bringing their slew of code, as time goes on-” He finally looked up at you. “-it simply acts as a pitiful attempt to raise their chances that something may reach me. What you saw was one such executed protocol happening to get close.” He threw a thumb at the clock. “With how many of them there are, one has been doing so about every thirty minutes and it takes a… nuanced touch to annihilate them.”

“Meaning your touch and something else…”

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. could as well, but he’s currently taxed with surveillance… among other things...” In a swipe, Donnie brought up security feeds of dozens of different people. “This little gambit might set back an entire era of hacking.”

Your partner chuckled and loosened his grip.

“That’s the annihilation. You're not just kicking these people out, you're ruining them like you were trying to ruin that one guy.”

A dart of Donnie’s eye spoke a confirmation.

You looked at the screen and watched someone throw their hands up in rage before they attacked their PC.

You could feel Donnie looking at the same spot. “Data suggests he won’t give up. He’ll go to a net café next.”

“This is…”

“I know.” Donnie turned to you openly and held a strange weight to his gaze. Not quite guilt, but something similar, he didn’t try to argue his case. “Not discussed and you already know too much for culpability’s sake.”

“I don’t care about that!” You wormed your way free.

“I do.”

“Are you going to be okay? This is-!” You scrubbed your face in irritation.

“I’m sorry.”

Your hands dropped. “Are you not okay? Donnie, answer!”

“Not that!” He stood and stepped closer to you. “I’m okay. We’re okay. I meant my apology in regards to this happening. These sort of pitfalls are a commonality to me. When I jumped into this endeavor, it didn’t strike me that it wouldn’t be for you. That it would affect our time. You give me so much leeway that I assumed this fell in line with normal.”

You stood in his airspace, but refused to touch him. “I don’t like this.”

“I don’t either.”

“How does this end?” You gestured toward his computer. “How long does this go on?”

“I continue as is, program something more sophisticated between their interruptions which shall taper off as we decimate the leader’s resources.”

“I’m assuming you aren’t saying this [person's name to keep me safe?”

“Yes. He is no one. He is an easy enough search. A billionaire’s son. Public figure if only by his stocks. Best if you can say otherwise.”

“How long?”

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.?” Donnie turned and you followed to see a chat bubble appear on the far right monitor.

‘At current rate, four days.’

Donnie returned to you.

“Could be longer?”

“Yes.”

You were slow to blink. “Okay… Okay...” Bringing your hands up and away from the matter you rounded him for the kitchen. “You kill yourself for 4 days and now you’re going to do it again. I’m glad you got to sleep once at least.”

“I…” He was slow to track you. “I’m having difficulty reading the tone.”

You leaned your hands against the sink. “I’m… annoyed. I’m mad that this got out of hand, but I guess I’m glad it wasn’t a non-stop eight day thing. This is new and frustrating and…”

He continued to watch you.

“Since you’re going to do this… Since you have to…” You gestured to the space between you. “Will you eat this time?”

“I’d prefer not to.”

“The meal replacements.” You bargained.

He hesitated for a moment, but relented with a tight nod.

“Sleep?”

“There’s a micronap schedule I’ve long utilized for scenarios such as this.”

“Sounds, not great. If that’s what you were doing before, it didn’t seem to do anything.”

“It’s not ideal, but I need to be alert and on call, so to speak.”

“Okay…” The sound was huffy, but you brought your eyes up to translate that through your reluctance, you’d accepted the current situation.

“May I…?” He checked his computer and you saw, but couldn’t read another pop-up from S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.

“Yeah, sure.” You turned, not really needing anything in this room and tried to prepare yourself for another lonely stint.

He appeared close, having neglected his own question and hovered.

You looked him over before showing that in offering your arms out to him in a hug that you were deeply dissatisfied.

He was quick to fill them, but there was a withdrawn nature to him.

The hunt was what he preferred to be on.

“You are more than anything I could have dreamed.” He murmured and inhaled you deeply, as if taking one last shot for the road.

“Don’t butter me up.” You grouched.

“True, but not an incorrect statement. Clarified: I never entertained any sort of personal connection at all.” He removed himself to take you in with a withered edge.

“You are a menace.” You whispered, leaning into him.

“In this sense, I would prefer not to be.” He admitted before kissing you.

You shared one tender one before you felt his body language read that it was time. You released him for a final squeeze and bid farewell to your partner as he turned to his work.

It was easier knowing what you were in for.

For the next few days, you tended to Donnie as one might care for a goldfish. You’d check his tank and clear off his surroundings if he somehow accrued trash. You fed him twice a day as that seemed suitable for his lack of activity and overall he was mostly something you could glance at on occasion if you wanted to space out.

You missed him.

It was infuriating as he was right beside you, but the deficiency of his attention was getting to you by the fourth day. That counted eight total days since he first got the alert and even though you’d gotten a blip of him there in the middle, it still felt like an overall loss. You exercised reason and logic. He wasn’t as consumed as he was the last time. He had moments to speak, but he was still often only partially there. His responses were absent ones and you’d usually have to repeat yourself just to enforce a point.

It wore on him as well, but he had distractions.

It had also been 10 days since you had last been intimate.

Something that in the grand scheme of things was laughable, you couldn’t help the ache between your legs. Having gone from fully satiated to only wanting all too suddenly had left your body confused. A frustrating routine he’d bred into you, it compounded on top of your emotional debt for one that desperately craved affection.

Your closeness went hand and hand with coupling and without him you felt a shard of your usual self.

Still, you tried not to make it a big deal.

Not downplaying it to convince yourself, but instead in an attempt to self-soothe, you did your best to divert attentions. You weren’t so hard up and the supposed window was hopefully closing soon. Taking the knowledge to heart, but at a slight bay just in case things changed, you prepared yourself for a complicated dinner.

Something with many little parts, you had already prepared meat and were currently getting a grill pan up to a searing heat. Cracking the window to release the smoke, you chopped and prepped everything necessary. From creating a quick pickling mixture to blanching some greens, you busied yourself to keep errant thoughts at bay. Around the time you were over a boiling pot of water, you realized it had worked to an extent and faintly ruminated on why you hadn’t thought to cook sooner.

You could already have the luxury of a baked good around if you had a little more forethought.

Distraction its own sort of progress, you took time in plating the many little dishes as you might get them at a restaurant. Not having all the same equipment, it looked more like a minor mish mash, but it got the job done. You then filed for a few trips back and forth to get them set up in the living room and plopped down at the coffee table to eat your decadent spread in front of the TV.

“Takeout?” Donnie wondered absently.

He’d sometimes ask questions out of the blue. It was almost as if he’d catch bubbles of thoughts outside the norm and they’d force their way through him. This one had you chuckling. “You didn’t smell all that cooking?”

He didn’t respond and you turned to find him actively writing out several things at once.

In those moments, he also rarely cared for an answer.

Giving a resigned sigh, you returned to your meal and ate aplenty.

Nearly bursting, you lounged for a long while before you were forced to put everything up.

You now had a few days of leftovers depending on when Donnie returned and you wondered by some Tupperware if you should ask him how that deadline was going. His fingers were flying at a particularly busied speed so you decided to let him be in favor of cleaning up. Avoiding still warm burners, you got everything back to a baseline before tackling a mountain of dishes which was reconstructed into a drying pyramid.

You’d rounded on a journey back to the couch when he stopped and gave a tired chuff.

You slowed and watched him.

He blinked a weight against his skull and turned to you with an affectionate smile.

Bypassing it to quell unnecessary excitement, you checked his monitors to see the timer had been recently renewed.

“A short break.” He spoke softly and with a heavy exhaustion.

“How are those micro naps?” You fussed and meant to approach him, but he got himself up first.

He approached you with loose limbs and draped himself over you with too much weight. “Ache.”

“Your body?” You did your best to hold his wobbly form up.

He nodded all around you.

“Why don’t…?” You checked the screen and then urged him toward the bedroom. “You lay down for a bit and I’ll watch your computer? I can’t respond, but I can wake you up the second something pops up.”

He grew rigid enough to think it over.

“I haven’t seen you lay down once…”

He wilted with a little more weight causing your knees to buckle.

“Don!”

With an awkward hoist, he freed himself and stumbled right towards the bedroom. “25 minutes!”

“I’m waiting for the pop-up!” You scolded and he fell straight into bed.

He also presumably went right to sleep because he didn’t move even though his legs were hanging off at an odd angle.

You watched his form with a warmth you soon realized was the one he’d pressed you with.

Shivering away from a flush of moaning images, you plopped down into his chair only to be assaulted by the heat there. One baked in from where he was sitting, it brought color to your face as your brain unhelpfully connected the dots between his slit pressed hot to these cushions you were now perched on. Stomping out horny fires in your mind, you watched data continue to write itself along with all sorts of data on the screens. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. bid you a quick hello and you responded quietly in kind only for him to not give much of a response himself.

They were both so busy.

Scooting forward, closer to the monitors brought up a scent that for a moment you couldn’t place. One that coaxed your nostrils, it was in a dreary lull that you realized it was Donnie’s natural musk. Something enhanced by days of not washing, it permeated the space and again your mind threw a tantrum regarding your neglected sex life.

Infinitely frustrated with yourself, you righted in an attempt to run from the scent and roughly scrubbed your cheeks to regroup. Perspective said how ridiculous it was to be turned on by a fading scent alone and sense told you that you needed to finally give in and masturbate. A bitter part of you complained about only wanting to get off with the best while some argumentative voice told you to get off your high horse.

Voices drowned you until a screen popped up. “Donnie!”

He shot upward with a speed that caused the canopy to billow. “Up! I’m up!”

“There’s an alert.” You got up from the chair just as he reached you.

“Understood. Thank you.” With only a glance, it was filled and closed out. “That… helped… I do appreciate it.” He passed you a quick glance that also held a pang of dismissal.

You gave a faint nod and rolled his chair up where his body was still stiff.

“I’ll stretch after two or three more cycles. I’m close to completing my code.”

“Sure.” You pecked his head just as he brought his fingers up to work.

If only he’d use those damn digits to finish something else too.

Turning with a flood of humiliation, you played it off and all but threw yourself into the couch.

This was coming to an obvious head.

You’d be forced to act soon and though grumpy thoughts wanted better, you knew your hand would get the job done. Still holding out as long as you could, you turned something onto the TV and tried not to think about how just the small kiss was stirring you. Since redirecting your thoughts had worked as only a temporary balm, you tried to skirt the subject in hopes that indulging it a little would help take the edge off. No where near imagining any scenarios, you instead plotted the logistics of getting yourself off.

It made the most sense to do in the bathroom.

It’s not like you thought you weren’t allowed to masturbate, but you didn’t want to make it obvious. Your intention was far from teasing your mate in his current state. This wasn’t about taunting him, you were just taking care of something he couldn’t. There was also the fact that, if he knew, Donnie would definitely try to help. He was steadfast in your pleasure and it wasn’t hard to imagine him jeopardizing his mission if you truly asked. Not wanting that or to tax the already similarly swamped S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. a quick shower was in order.

If only it wasn’t so cumbersome. It felt taboo to get wet and dry off without washing. Even though you weren’t dirty, you didn’t want to soil a towel and figured you’d have to get a minor lather going. That meant you’d have to get farther under the spray and you didn’t want to chance getting your clean hair wet. A rolling cause and effect, you would need to do something with your locks to keep them from getting hit with an errant spray. It all felt like a tax to pay for making yourself cum even if the pros outweighed the cons.

An annoying plan in place, you felt sort of settled and tuned back into the TV only to find a PG-13 sex scene unfolding.

Hitting the off button on the remote before your brain caught up to what you were doing, you flung the clicker back to the couch and went for your phone. Looking to microdose serotonin, you headed for social media in hopes that it would keep you level. What you found was your feed collectively screaming about something objectively horny and no matter what platform you switched to there was something similar.

That was fine.

There was a name for that.

Recency bias or something.

It was an illusion.

You were thinking about sex so you saw sex.

You just needed to unplug.

Going through your apps, you found you hadn’t cleaned out junk files in a while. There were always screenshots to clear out and stupid memes you’d downloaded for one off jokes. With Mikey a constant source of the latter, you found some solace in deleting extra images. Skipping past ones you might keep, you found a few you wanted to throw into a folder. Opening up a transfer, you mistakenly tapped the edge of your camera gallery and cursed softly as the files went to the wrong place. Going to correct that brought you to your recent photos where you slowed at a sea of green.

Not forgetting, but taking your time gathering up those misplaced pictures, you perused photos of your boyfriend. This was proof of never having a candid photo of him. You scrolled through image after image of you trying to sneak him into shots only to have him dully staring at the lens in each one. It was a fun game and made for many memories. It conjured a conflicted feeling in your chest knowing that this him was so near, but somewhere distant. You glanced up over your device to find said partner silently toiling away.

Your finger kept moving.

Returning your gaze to your phone in what was a form of melancholy comfort, you stared down at a picture of Donnie between your legs.

Instantly clamping yours shut, you’d forgotten all about this image.

From a few weeks ago, he’d just finished eating you out and he’d risen up, closing your knees together as a perch for his chin to ask you a question about something you’d been talking about before getting down to business.

He’d been so casual about the whole thing and wearing a self-satisfied smile stemming from the two orgasms he’d just given you that you begged him to hold that pose so you could immortalize it.

He’d relented with a sigh and you got an image of him looking relatively near his authentic self.

You couldn’t help, but notice now the way his face glistened with you.

Closing your eyes and fisting your phone, you needed to move up your time table. Coincidence or not, you needed to clear your mind. Rubbing your thighs together to smother the burn there, you meant to get up and head to the soak when your phone rang. Juggling the device as that so rarely happened, you saw it was one of your college friends and answered.

“Y/N! Wassup!!!” He called with an ancient lingo.

Telling him not much because in reality that was the truth, you had a quick conversation with him about how he’d be in town next week. Having not seen him much since he moved a few states over, you made plans to hang out the following weekend. Always in a rush, but with seemingly all the time in the world, he pelted you with a few more questions before he had to go. Bidding him farewell, but not for long, you hung up and stared down your phone screen where that damn image of Donnie appeared again, waiting.

Stupid turtle.

Stupid hot turtle you always wanted to bone.

Stupid.

Closing your phone, you sat listlessly for a moment until you stood.

It couldn’t wait.

You weren’t particularly ready to shower, you technically still had things to do, but this had rapidly turned into a very dumb problem.

“Gonna see Zach next Saturday for lunch.” You relayed your new calendar addition as you rounded the couch.

“Mhm, have fun. Tell me when you get back.” Donnie shifted his head to look at another screen.

You slowed to look back at him openly.

Donnie hadn’t heard the phone call.

Or rather, he hadn’t registered the contents.

With his hearing, there was no way he couldn’t have known what was said and yet he’d just responded like you were leaving now.

It was similar to how he should have known that you cooked dinner.

Dropping from curiosity, it made a sort of sense.

He was obviously distracted. He’d lost several days of actual sleep. He was operating on the bare minimum when it came to maintaining his body. He was also engaging with something that demanded all his focus. Of course he’d tuned out superfluous data. He was firing on all cylinders to complete a specific task.

Maybe you didn’t need to shower.

Maybe you could get away with a quick jaunt in bed.

Rub one out under the sheets and then clean up like nothing ever happened.

In that way it would be over and done with as fast as your fingers would carry you.

You certainly had the imagery in mind getting you most of the way there.

One last test.

You only needed to confirm one more time.

It was the rule of threes.

“Actually, I’m feeling kinda tired. I’m gonna nap.”

“Text me if you run long.” Donnie mumbled out a reply.

Your lids lowered as you watched his form with some amusement.

Sure, you would totally text him if you overslept.

Mentally thanking him for making your life easier, you ignored that he was also the source of your irritation and sauntered over to the bed. You tucked into your side and got settled under a sheet before you looked up at the canopy and squirmed lightly at the thought.

You were going to masturbate with your partner sitting in the other room.

He would be none the wiser.

A little titillated on the fact, you shimmied down and peeled your legs apart. Condensation built up through unwarranted will alone, you slid down through your pants and underwear to make work even quicker. Pushing deniability aside, you coasted over your slit and felt the percolation. Something still trapped between lips, a dotting part to your apex revealed the bounty.

Letting your eyes fall shut as you excavated with probing digits, you focused on the singular touch and minimizing any other. This was meant to be a quick chase of pleasure and as such you weren’t about to become some writhing mess. It brought back imagery of being a teen and stealing away for something fast that your hormones demanded in a life with little privacy. Far removed from a knock or even someone haphazardly throwing a door open without knowing better, now was more that this was something to get out of the way.

You still needed material.

Starting where you left off, the Donnie with his head perched on your legs appeared. The reel ran backwards. Him parting you and dropping back where he belonged and you rolled onto your hand where you were still being coy. Digit breeching that first ring of flesh, your lips parted and you blew out a cooling air. Already calming from the heated mania that had taken hold of your mind, your other hand joined your first.

Avoiding your clit as you needed a bit more sop for expansive territory, you instead went to toy with the bundle of nerves above it. Stretchier skin and not as keenly sensitive, it further worked you up to add another finger. The Donnie between your legs was doing his job, but you were skirting toward deeper penetration when you switched him up.

The next came a painting Adonis above you. Chiseled and gorgeous in soft afternoon glow, he rolled with beads of perspiration from a time when you both desperately wanted to prolong the moment. If only to have the connection a second longer, it skirted edging territory to instead go torturously slow. Its own taxing dance, the wind up was an exhaustive one that had enhanced the event on multiple levels.

You had shed tears when cumming then, but it wasn’t because of release.

It was the only frustrating part of his anatomy. You’d long grown addicted to his spread and, in a way, you were always accustomed to his length, but it was the way he retreated into his slit that your resented. Moving onto a third digit and finger fucking yourself with a metered vigor, you longed for him to go soft in you. He could in a way; the spread was loosen and revert, the knot would deflate from where it acted as a bouncer, and the stiffness that reached your recesses would shrink away from its job of reaching your womb, but it would always leave.

With only those few signs and if Donnie wasn’t aroused enough to attempt a second round, the retreat would occur. Something relatively quick, but not painful, it was a slink back into its cavern and you were left empty and wanting. You longed to keep him there. To spend a night, as impossible as it was, with him inside so you could wake and still feel connected.

As if to offset a dip in your attention, your next mental image came as a fully clothed Donnie where he’d turned to smile at you while you were picking something up at a bodega the day the dry spell started.

You vaguely recalled it’d been a quick trip for batteries after the ones in the remote had died.

It had been especially endearing to tease your partner as to why that electronic in particular hadn’t had the genius’ touch.

He vowed to make something unholy in retribution and his description of a remote that could find itself had brought laughter to you.

When you’d come down you glimpsed him as honeyed sweetness right there in public behind a confusing mixture of motor oil and cereal.

Heart buoyed, a legion of Donnie’s appeared in your mind.

All delightful moments, you saw a seemingly never ending reel of the man you loved. He shifted shape, in clothes and out. Amidst passion or sleep, but steadfast he’d be there, ready to take your hand whenever you wanted. He smiled, he fumed, and at least a thousand of him rolled their eyes, but he stayed by your side. He chose you again and again, in every way, and with all his forms, you were the one he wanted after the lifetime he’d endured so far.

You were close.

A youthful euphoria came with a certain level of embarrassment that you were about to cum at the mere thought of your partner wanting to be with you.

On another plane, you embraced it.

How lucky were you to count yourself this attracted to someone?

There was something to be said about warping the norms for a reciprocated crush.

Wanting to giggle and chomping down on your lip to keep the overflowing happiness inside, you teetered on at the top.

Seemingly one flick away from touching stars, you finally switched to your forgotten clit and, in the first touch, you thought you’d cum.

Nothing happened.

Maddeningly on the edge, you sped up to a chase a feeling that appeared to be a flattening curve.

From a mountain top to a rapidly eroding valley, a tinny sound came from you as your face scrunched in desperation.

Why?

It was all in place.

It made no sense.

He’d done something to you.

Changed you.

The images warped.

You saw the wicked him that poured through the cracks. A thick and viscous creature made for oozing where he pleased. It was the barely restrained version of him that existed just below. Not hidden necessarily, but waiting, it was always biding its time. It was his fall back in case of emergencies or his crutch were he so inclined to let the beast out for its daily walk.

Was he keeping him or were you?

The thought made both your hands go slack and your body screeched in denied agony.

Cracking an eye, leaky from force, you saw a shadow at the edge of the bed.

Already high on adrenaline, your symbolic flight switched to a literal one and you seized up at the specter. Trying to blink it away at first, you watched it amble like a blow up punching bag. The base steady and the top a teeter, the figure almost fell over before it overcorrected and took several silent steps to a corner.

“D-Donnie…?”

It stopped and returned to its original spot where it tore open the curtains to reveal who you’d spoken into existence.

Your boyfriend stood in a hunch. Stupor coating him, his arm hung threatening and his head dipped below the waning bulb of his shoulder. Looking at you through tipped down features, it manifested a wretched glare on his worn out body. Bordering on feral, a breath forced its way past his lips and he dropped his gaze to track you from your covered legs back to your face.

Snaking your hands out of your pants, you attempted to hide them as you rolled the blanket back enough to sit up. “Don…?”

He let the curtain go and trailed around the outside of the canopy to your side.

You watched him openly.

Not using the same force, this time he carefully peeled back the curtain beside you and slotted himself between panels to give you another once over. Now closer, he looked more possessed than mad. His eyes were darkened both with heavy bags and what looked to be delirium. In a slow inching where a flick of his pupils said he was surprised to see his hand raising up, he used excessive care to coax the closer of your arms to him.

You tried not to wince with guilt as you unearthed the appendage.

There was nothing to feel bad about.

You were allowed to masturbate.

You were sure of that.

You were also perplexed by the way your mate held your forearm.

An underhanded hold as if testing its density, he let your wrist limp and simply stared down at it.

“Earth to Don?”

Slowly blinking and only showing signs of life by breathing, he had to bring in his other hand to take up the first’s task. Trading your arm between holds, it freed up his left appendage where he took up your fingers. Holding them with so much delicacy that his own digits gave a nervous wobble, he brought your hand up to his beak.

You felt especially culpable.

He breathed you in lightly.

Rapidly shifting from feeling bad to only feeling confused, you watched his features smooth out.

“Better…?” You asked softly.

“No.” Came a gentle response which breathed warmth onto your fingertips.

“No?”

“I’ve been subjected to great torment.” Opening his eyes found them a tired sort of glazed and he adjusted his hold so your fingers were up and on prominent display.

At a sedate pace, he then put them in his mouth and ran his tongue over them.

Coiling up from your belly, all muscles tensed as if to force his touch through your being to where you needed it most.

“Y-you-” You didn’t even care if you stuttered. “-I thought you hadn’t noticed...”

With a sharp suck, he extracted your fingers with a needy pop. “Not notice? Not notice my mate writhing? Not notice how wave after wave of arousal was coming off of you? Not notice those little breathy gasps as you tried to bring yourself to climax without me?”

In his hold, your damp fingers curled hungry.

“The quieter you tried to be the more deafening you were.”

“Then why…?”

He was slow.

He was painfully methodical.

He inched himself down as if on a precarious crane and folded your arm back into your person. He then used his freed up limbs to steady himself and leaned a lowered version of himself into your vision.

“You called to me.”

“I…” He was so sure it made you second guess yourself for a moment. “No… I didn’t… At least, I don’t think I did…”

“You did.” You’d been captured by his gaze and hadn’t noticed his hand ghosting over the blanket. He caught the hem and pulled it back slowly to unfurl you. He paused there, drinking in the scent. “The past few days…”

“N-now wait!” You sat a little straighter which caused him to duck out of your way and you caught his hand on the blanket. “You didn’t notice me cooking for over an hour and you didn’t hear anything from my phone call, but now you’re telling me you noticed the flickers of horny!?”

“Static.” He didn’t pull free and continued to watch you.

“Static?”

“Background. White noise. Tuned out. Unnecessary.” He leaned in close and you thought you might need to hold him up, but he only barely leaned his head to yours in order to place his lips at your ear. “Not you. Your dial is turned up. My first and utmost priority.”

“One of those was me…” You protested, hand loosening unconsciously.

“The details of which weren’t.”

“What are you talking about?” You tried to turn, but only bumped him. “They’re my plans to go out.”

He huffed irritation and retreated enough to view you. “I don’t have the time to explain my procedure in regards to you. You called, I came. Let me take care of you.”

You held out for a moment before softening. “You have a procedure for me…?”

That earned you a smile. “Yes. A detailed and lengthy one that constantly evolves so I can be the partner you deserve.”

“Nerd…” You choked on affection.

He hummed agreement and tugged lightly at the blanket where his hand was still under yours. “May I?”

“Your work…” You lifted your appendage anyway.

He nuzzled into the side of your head. “A required pause.”

“You don’t even pause for slee-!!” Your pitch soared to a shattering point as soon as he got his hand into your pants.

“That’s it… I love when you cry out for me.”

In a tangled shove, he got his much larger hand situated against your mons where his long fingers curled into your heat.

His arm was in an awkward bend, but he didn’t seem to care and tutted lightly “You were stopped short… How agonizing…”

You seemed to only breathe in time with him tracing your slit. “No teasing… Please!”

“I’m not.” He pressed a comforting weight against your head.

“Need you.”

“Why didn’t you call for me?” Switching to a single digit he held it just above your apex.

“Busy…” You rolled up with your hips, but his hand moved in time.

“Never too busy for you.”

“Donnie!”

“Were you…?”

You caught hold of his top and yanked him to your eye level. “Thinking of you? Yes! Fuck! I always think about you. Your stupid cock. Your infuriating smile! You! Now, please!!”

The most awake yet, he stood in a form of shock and his gaze fell surprised down your body where he pushed a finger straight into you.

You outright cried at the sensation and he supported your back to pull out and push back in.

No deft digits.

No accuracy.

No right spots.

Your soak meant he slid in easily even if your body hadn’t quite adjusted to his current shape.

Still, you came.

Right then and hard enough that you latched onto his arm as you folded forward onto the pressure.

You could feel your mate’s body raise interest around you.

Delirious, flittering thoughts wondered how you’d stayed on the edge all that time.

Stupid body.

Always waiting for him.

That was going to be a huge problem if it wasn’t psychosomatic.

Coming down came with outright waves of relief. You rose against the slack and held a dopey smile for your partner. Leaning into his arm and cuddling up to him with stupefied jitters, you pecked the underside of his chin. “Thank you.”

“Less than 15 seconds.”

“Sounds right.”

“Unfair.”

“I don’t know… Looking pretty good from here.”

He grunted irritation and bumped you off his plastron.

Grumbling yourself at having to sit up of your own violation, you turned to him. “What?”

“I barely had a hand and now my data is an outlier!”

“Data…”

“Yes!”

You looked down where his hand was still crammed into your pants. “Sex calculation.”

“Ineloquent, but yes!”

“You pull out.” You touched his arm.

You could hear him grit his teeth and his finger pressed deeper into your still sensitive core.

You gave a breathy mewl. “Don-!”

He quirked his digit.

“Stop!” You glared at him. “You have work and you did what I ‘asked’ already!”

He openly grouched.

“I worked myself up! It should only count if it’s you, start to finish.”

“You said it was me!”

You blinked at him exactly once.

That was what you said.

It also was a fact.

It might have been due to your recent release, but you felt your anger evaporate.

Left with only affection, you traced his arm up and took his tightly wound chin. “I’m sorry.”

From around irritation he surfaced with some resentment. “I don’t require an apology.”

“I know. You’re tired, stressed.”

“I’m busy.”

“You did good. You can go back.” With a few more strokes his jaw unwound.

“I could give you another…” He pursed his lip like a child being denied a second cookie.

You moved to kiss both his cheeks, one after the other. “I see. Data is probably part of it, but you’re more upset because you wanted it to last longer.”

He gave a curt nod.

“You miss me too?”

His lids raised a little at your addition to the equation. “Of course.”

“You’ll have me when you’re done.”

With a forced exhale, his lids closed. “I suppose.”

“Isn’t today the day?” You leaned back to give him room and he extracted his hand from your crotch.

“Yes, we have four holdouts. All other resources depleted. What’s left are doing it for sheer spite.”

“You’ll get them.”

“Assuredly.” Donnie straightened and sucked his moist finger with the casual nature as if it were a lollipop. “Hopefully this evening while you are still awake.”

“Wake me if not.”

“No.” He turned and the canopy trailed behind him.

“Hey!” You called after, but he didn’t stop his trek.

Getting up and shuddering as the slick soaked your underwear, you clambered after him.

“Why not?!”

“You have work in the morning.” Donnie sat down with the poise of a pianist.

“So? We’ve done it the night before a bunch of times.”

“Ten days.” He readied himself and his semi-circle of monitors appeared.

You slowed and ignored the disgusting squelch between your legs.

It seemed so obvious.

Of course, he’d be just as aware of the time without.

He’d probably felt the same ache in the small moments when his mind wasn’t occupied.

Still it felt nice to hear, out loud, that he thought the same.

You closed in, forgetting your discomfort.

He tucked his head away from you, but you caught the faintest glint of a wicked smile. “Quite a time to make up for.”

“Marathon…” You whispered, wanting to manifest.

He didn’t look, but you felt the confirmation radiate from him while he made some notes.

Chewing on your lip at the thought, you moved close just in time to watch one of the pop-ups appear.

He eradicated it without deviating from what he was already working on.

“These last few are that weak, huh?”

“That one came at…” Donnie flicked his eyes to the timer which had reset. Clicking over in time with his eyes, it presented a different number before it continued to count. “87 minutes.”

He seemed more awake and you inched closer.

“You dismissed me.”

“I did.”

“And yet…?” He finally turned to give you a faint once over and give attention to how you’d followed him.

“I’m fine.”

He arched a brow that had a dual meaning between second guessing you and also urging you to reveal the truth.

“I am.” You huffed a smile. “Really. I appreciate it.”

“Loitering?” He disliked his guess, but offered it anyway.

“I’d like to return the favor.”

He straightened the slightest amount. “Y/N, I’m still working.”

“Mhm…” You came in close waiting for him to stop you.

When he didn’t, you took it as a sort of cue and traced a finger along the arm of his chair.

He watched the digit with a certain withheld gaze.

“As paltry as the interlopers are, I am more interested in finishing my new algorithm. I am close and would appreciate to test it on these peons who have worked so hard to earn their spots as guinea pigs” He only had the energy for half his usual hostility.

“Work on it then.” You slowed your finger just before it grazed his skin and then bent at the waist to place yourself at his tympanum. “Haven’t you thought about taking me while you work?”

“I have.” He returned a modicum of your heat as a form of dismissal. “So quickly you forget what I’d considered an unforgettable call.”

“Matsushita and the wife who made pottery?” You asked with poisonous innocence.

His gaze narrowed in the corner of your eye.

“Exactly.” You tilted your head to nudge him. “A phone call is one thing. It’s boring; people multitask. Plus, cockwarming? It’s sweet, gentle. The thrill of getting caught here is pretty different, but…” You removed yourself to openly inspect his desk. “Looks like there’s enough space.”

He psychically moved a digital window before kicking off so his chair rolled him to face you.

Taking that as an invitation and not giving him the time to change his mind, you ducked under his desk. Spinning right around, you then caught the wheels of his chair and pulled him back into place. Seeing his arms minutely flail from the sudden jerk, you sat on your haunches and stared down his crotch. “Wow…”

You felt him give a little noise which you likened to embarrassment as you sank greedy hands into his calves. They tensed under you where they were already stiff from sitting too long. Working into them, you leaned heavily into his inner thigh and simply drank in the closeness. It allowed your partner some space to adjust to the position above and you eventually felt him fall into a working rhythm.

His lower legs feeling looser, you took his thighs one at a time in a two-handed effort to get any sort of grip on the wall of muscle. Donnie puffed with slight amusement at your struggle and you resisted digging your nails in for some retribution. Instead you massaged diligently, loosening him up until he grew a sort of lax puddle below the waist where he sat with otherwise perfect posture.

Wanting to ruin that, you returned to the apex of his sweats where his split position to accommodate you pulled the fabric taunt. It bounced under a quick testing and said it was several inches away from his skin and you stewed trying to figure out the best way to work them off of him.

“Need a hand already?”

You glared into the wood separating you both. “Hardly.”

He made an amused noise and you turned interest into a glower. Though darker under the desk, it wasn’t like you couldn’t see. You didn’t need to probe the fabric to know these sweats were on the older side and worn in spite of obvious care. Running a finger down the center seam, you saw a gallery in your mind of the many items he’d torn off of you and suddenly cared little for how much he liked this particular pair of pants.

Holding with a pinch of one hand, you dug a nail into the seam with the other until you could just wedge your finger in. You then rose up, bonking your head under the table which caused Donnie to chuckle at your failure. Now cemented where you were already sure, you yanked hard and fast to tear the crotch of his sweats open.

“Y/N!” He attempted to roll back in a fit of anger, but your solid grip meant he only caused the hole to widen several more inches. “Do you realize how hard it is to find clothes that both fit and suit my textural preference?!”

“Tell that to the entire wardrobe of mine that you’ve shredded…” You glowered up at him from your cavern.

“You do not have near the same restrictions!”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not annoying!” You fisted one of his pant legs and tugged him back into place.

Now grouching a dark cloud over you, it meant he would be harder to soothe, but you took that loss in stride. Your goal as of it yet hadn’t been arousal despite your insinuation. You’d dropped under here as a way to pay him back in every sense of the phrase. Satisfied, you continued to tear the fabric until you had a sizable hole all while resting your head against his thigh.

Getting him to a version of chaps, you reached in and traced a heavy hand over the soft skin of his pelvis. Instead of tensing, he gave a hitched sigh, obviously still upset with the state of his bottoms. Leaning in to kiss a bit of his exposed thigh, you nuzzled there not for apology, but instead hoping he’d accept that what was done was done. You knew he’d do so fighting every inch of the way, so you continued to ply his legs with little pecks and nosings until he relented.

It took several long minutes, but you never tired of the way his skin felt under your lips. A delicious drag, you kissed inward as he offered the smallest unwinding. You granted him more of you in the process, pressing several fingers into the plush skin around his slit. It caused him to adjust where, in a little flick of his hips, his tail appeared and you eased it forward until he could comfortably sit back on his shell. It presented more of him to you and you spread thankful kisses over all, but his heat.

Similar to how you’d been, you saw a faint shine of what was mostly hidden. Spreading your digits out in a sideways V around his slit, you pushed to open him further and saw the collected slick that had been trapped there. His scent hitting your salivary glands, you turned your head to meld your mouth to him and felt him tense up around you.

Holding your tongue a settled weight just at his entrance, you massaged into his inner thighs right at the sensitive joint to ease him down. A squirming in his chair meant the wheels rocked him and he planted his feet as a means to steady. It came with a slight rock onto your chin, where he took a sharp inhale and cleared his throat.

“W-withhold or-?”

You peeled away where his slick tried to hold onto you in strings. “Don’t you dare hold anything back.”

You heard only a satisfied exhale before his cock rushed your face.

Switching gears, you palmed his member to your cheek and nuzzled into his very essence.

“I missed you…” You told his cock and kissed it lovingly.

Above you there was a thump and you only smiled as you dragged your lips down his shaft. Resisting the urge to tongue him, you drank him in first. Getting high off the contact you eventually settled onto your knees for what you considered a long haul. Staring down his glans, you allowed yourself one last heart-eyed look over him before you kissed his tip.

Taking his head into your mouth, you quickly swirled and he held back an obvious buck by inching his hips in as close as he could. It meant his chair came until his plastron met the desk and you were caged between marble gams. Swirling your saliva to drink it down beside his member, he twitched at the sensation which you used as a guise to suck him.

He swallowed an obvious grunt and you felt him adjust his posture.

Imagining there must be another of those pop-ups, you took as much of him down your throat as you could at an achingly slow pace. A growly sort of churr shook on the way down to your mouth that you soaked up before you hit your limit and made a similarly slow trek out. Relishing the stretch of your jaw and wane of your lips the whole way, you came off him with a slick pop and took a moment to enjoy where you were.

You made it just long enough that when you caught him with a tight grip around his middle that he yelped. Following it right up with moving to suck the very life out of him through the straw of his cock, you saw a flash of his thumbs as he caught the table. It was in that moment that you decided that this was the time: you were going to swallow his load no matter what.

Even though you enjoyed it, sucking him off had been a few and far between activity. Despite both of you liking it, other positions were clearly preferred and the mess of him in your face was always way worse than the one down below. From the time his hose had mistakenly sent a spurt flying across the room to when he’d sprayed up your nose, his orgasm had, as of yet, not been something tamable when it came to oral.

Channeling the force of your thrusts down your back to save your neck, you caught hold of his chair arms like handles to fuck him fully with your face. It lifted you off your knees where your ass bobbed from force. Pushing through until the creak of your jaw began to protest, you eased off to partially fist him while focusing on his glans. It parted your attention enough that you could feel your own leak string, a sticky mess where it was trapped.

You checked to see his feet were still planted only to find his toes twitch and lift rhythmically as you stroked him. It sent you to smatter a new set of kisses along his length. He released another breathy stutter that was again cleared by his throat and, with him stable, you left your pumping to one hand and shoved the other down your pants for the second time tonight.

Immediately finding your slick where force had smeared it around, you cringed, but tried to keep it off the lips around him. You licked long along every bump and curve of his length to take the time to test your own folds. Usually ones abused and aching to reach this state, they were instead pumped full of useless blood and heat with little recourse. The threat of another bout of restrained arousal had you shoving a finger in yourself in hopes to offset another deprivation.

Only you toyed with that definition.

In this case depravity, the thought sunk in on how you were getting off by getting your partner off. Something that was meant to be just for him that you were now coveting, it increased your finger count while you rolled your tongue around his expanding glans. The ultimate sign of how far along he was, this was yet another hurdle in taking him to full completion with your mouth.

Calm was the name of the game and you had to relax so his spread could fill you without choking. It was flexible, you reminded yourself, and not something trying to cut off your air way. It couldn’t constrict your throat and you were safe in taking him. Lulled on that and a tizzy buzz from fingering yourself, you switched to shorter strokes to control exactly where he would spread to his fullest.

That being somewhere around the middle of your mouth for the barest level of comfort, he was rapidly expanding to fill the space. You curled your tongue back within a lap to keep it from getting stuck and in doing so you tasted the first salty sour of pre cum coaxed out of him. Sign after sign you were on the right track, it meant you were getting close to the point where you really needed both hands to siphon him. Making the faintest noise of protest as you uncurled your fingers to remove them from your sopping cunt, you readied yourself for a new angle where you palmed him with sticky digits.

Donnie was nowhere near cognizant enough to tell you touched yourself.

You weren’t even sure he was getting work done by the way you heard him routinely claw at his desk. It was like winning multiple awards and each was a new honor came for fucking out a creature that should by no means be susceptible to your inferior human form. It flooded you with pride among other things as salvia leaked from crevices and down your chin. Bumps of his glans scoured your gum line and a tight seal was nearly formed. You moved to fully jacking him off with your hands as you could no longer move your head. Your tongue swirled and flicked the best it could against what was now a fleshy wall shoving your jaw to its widest.

“Y-Y/N!”

You took that as his second to last signal and the ‘O’ of your hands pumped down to his knot where the last would come. It was there you pistoned up and down with pulsing squeezes all to coax him to his highest peak. He stuttered a quake and something beeped for his attention and you felt his frame shift as he tried to dismiss whatever it was. A fixture on his cock, he picked you up and tossed you with his movements which translated to a pulse of your nether muscles at how you were being used.

One day you would tell him to get creative with the arms that came out of his battle shell.

Unlike the stationary B.E.D.F.A.S.T., they were the perfect set of extra hands on the go, but that was all relegated to final thoughts as you felt his knot inflate. The time was upon you and you would have exhaled if you could. Instead you breathed a steady in and out in preparation and fell into the angle you prepared. One that pulled downward on his cock, it made him the pump and you the pail in which you were going to drain him. Not letting up speed, you only adjusted pressure and moved for a final rotation of your tongue before tucking it flat to make way.

He came with a chirp and a hissing breath while you squeezed your eyes for the onslaught. The first wave came with piping heat and you reminded yourself on a soft mantra to ‘let it flow.’ Fringe taste buds complained of the flavor and the spray shot discordant pumps of his seed down your throat. Loosening the chute as a means for it to slide down without encumbrance, the temperature of it activated some basal gag reflex and you could only squeeze your eyes further shut with tears in an attempt to suppress it.

Let it flow.

There was too much.

The tears streaked down your cheeks and you held onto his knot for dear life as he continued to pump load after load of his spunk into you. You wanted to gasp, but that was wholly impossible and your breathing tried to pick up against where you were holding it. It was with bitter focus that you staved off anxiety and had to remind yourself of perspective. While it seemed endless and timeless, he never actually came for minutes. The process would be quick, your senses were overwhelmed, and you could take it.

The thought of where you usually did caused you to prematurely swallow and the minor bob of your body trying to finally give into a heave was one you had to uselessly spasm around.

It was truly due to his modern marvel of birth control that you weren’t pregnant.

You’d already taken the blood test and confirmed otherwise.

There was a new worry there, but the ache it gave your chest was one you quickly deferred as his glans loosened.

Waiting down a few last spurts, you swallowed deeply and inhaled greedily on the oxygen you were deprived. It came with a sort of settling as he shrank enough for you to disengage and openly pant from your empty mouth. Still feeling the lingering heat like a hot beverage running the line down your sternum to sit heavy on your stomach, his cock softened out of your space and you slumped hard against his thigh.

Within a time space that felt like both hours and seconds, his knot slipped free from your grasp and you let your fingers loosen from their claw-like shape to flat palm stickiness against his pelvis. Head down in case those heated stomach contents decided at the last second that they wanted to upturn, you stared down a space between his chair’s legs and felt his shaking post-orgasm digits brush yours.

He tapped something out.

Still unsure of your stomach, you staved off a laugh for a light breath and returned the opposite call by signaling an ‘S.O.S.’

It spread his fingers out over yours in a comforting stroke and you could just about hear the loving churr rolling off of him.

Good.

You faintly rubbed your cheek against his leg.

He felt good.

The churn subsided and with it you did too.

You felt triumph.

You felt invincible.

You felt exhausted.

In reality having done very little, it didn’t seem earned, but your partner tapped you again and this time wasn’t in Morse code.

You hummed interest and tried to look up at him, but remembered he was pressed all the way to the desk meaning neither of you could see each other.

“I’m okay.” You said genially and moved to sit upright so he could roll back.

He did so at the first sign of your stability and tipped his head cutely to the side to glimpse you. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Your voice overflowed and you wanted to reach for him.

Reading your mind, he did and, in a sensitive bend that caused him to wince slightly, he got ahold of you. Grabbing for his shoulders, he hoisted you into his lap and you were soon cradled. Wiggling on top of one of his thighs and minding his crotch, you wormed your way up enough that you could comfortably tuck your nose under his chin. Churrs rolled off of him and his seat moved just enough to put him back into place. His hands moved for work and you imagined both of you were wondering why you hadn’t thought to snuggle like this beforehand. It was all too easy to fit together and your lids drooped.

You might have committed to sleep had you not tried to tuck your legs up under you.

The moment you folded, you were giving a soaked reminder of the breached dam that had been flooding for far too long. It was now on the forefront of uncomfortable thought and the quietest whine escaped you as your body tried to unconsciously lift away from your plastered underwear.

“Darling…?” His voice came with gentle concern.

Right.

You were on top of him.

“It’s just… reactions…” You settled and tried to hide away from yourself into him.

He coasted over your body with light interest at the source until he pieced it together. “Ah.”

“I’ll get up eventually.”

“Do you… need me?”

You knew that hesitation.

You had already eaten up so much of his time.

It was a case and point as something vied for his attention and he had to momentarily divert course to handle it.

From the bed to what he’d surely fumbled while you sucked him off, you imagined his timetable had now shifted to the early hours of the morning. As he said he wouldn’t wake you, but you’d be lying to yourself if you weren’t dreaming of the relief of finally being stuffed with his cock in the hole that’d been begging for it this whole time.

It was a logistical nightmare.

You’d done the whole cockwarming song and dance more than once to know for a fact that when folded in a chair, you simply didn’t have the strength alone to fuck him. That meant the distracting duty would fall on him which was the only thing you were trying to avoid. The sheer size of him along with his tailor made desk meant you couldn’t manage some modified wheelbarrow even if you thought your arms could support you long enough. Anything where you hung off the front would be interrupted by unrelenting wood and a position that placed you on top of it meant you’d surely ruin his work surface as you had in the past.

You needed something new.

You needed to get creative.

You wanted to lie down.

Slumping against your mate, you almost wished you could go similarly limp like a sock to just hang off of him.

It was very much a wish for a second pair of hands.

You blinked with a sort of attention.

Turning to look past your partner, he still waited with his question, but you slid a hand up from his shoulder and onto his carapace. You felt the stiffness there of his battle shell and smiled to yourself which you quickly turned on him.

“Can I borrow this?”

He puckered a tiny frown at having been ignored.

“Yes and no.” You answered and stared your truth in his eyes.

His further narrowed.

You imagined this is what he always felt like having to explain himself in more detail when he wanted to keep amorous information scant. “I don’t want your hand. You're too busy for your mouth, but I have a very wild idea that I physically can’t do without your tech.”

He took in the information while giving a routine flick of his gaze to his computer.

“It’ll be all me.” You put a reassured hand to his plastron. “Well, all, but one part…”

“Improbable.”

“Let me… paint you a picture.” You adjusted in his lap to give yourself some space. “You’re standing, you’re working, and all you have to do is absentmindedly rock your body into a cock sleeve made just for you.”

You watched his pupils shift and expand with intrigue.

“Let me try?” You pecked his cheek. “Worst that happens is my idea doesn’t work and I do a somersault.”

“What position will you be in?” He tilted his head and studied you.

“A fun one.” You grinned in return. “A wise man once told me something about how cute it was to guess.”

He eased up on his suspicions and you gave him what you meant to be an innocent kiss for it. Leaning into it and betraying how much he wanted to stay in contact, he eventually huffed and manipulated his screens more. “I’ll need to stand?”

“Yup!”

He scooted the chair back and you were careful in hopping off. Your legs were a bit worn from stressors, but otherwise fine so you turned to find him rolling his chair out of the way. He then returned to you and reached backwards up under his top where he came away with a plate of metal that formed his battle shell.

“Is over or under better?” You twisted to highlight that you were talking about your shirt.

He looked at you in a judgmental way.

“Ah, ‘depends on the position?’” You snickered and caught your hem. “Under then.”

He watched with appreciation as you took your shirt off and then coaxed you to turn. “I have something I’ve been testing.”

With your back to him, you looked over your shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” He stepped looking over his screens one last time before doing a light jog into the other room. He quickly returned with a square box that looked like it might hold a necklace. Placing himself right where he had been, he tapped your head to look away from him and you waited until you felt something slip around the shell of each of your ears.

“Headphones?”

“Brain-machine interface.” Donnie chuckled. “Your chance at voice-free tech integration.”

“I don’t have to speak?” You tried to turn, but he caught your shoulder.

“No, but it will require the full focus of your intention. Simply put, your body moves because your brain sends signals. This will pick up these signals, but there is a learning curve. Instead of executing the commands, you have to send the signals alone. Mine is a neural implant and far more refined, but this should give you approximate aid in this… endeavor.”

“Tell me how you really feel.” You teased as he held up the warm metal between your shoulder blades.

You quieted as the tech grew in a gentle crawl over your skin. Goosebumps cropping up as they usually did when he touched you, you had to check to see his arms were staunchly by his sides. It reminded you of a sensation from long ago.

“Do… you remember when we first met the other turtles?”

“I’d prefer ‘ambushed.’”

Sliding down the curve of your spine, a supportive belt slipped around your waist and you chose to ignore him since it all felt like a caress. “When you put your battle shell on me then.”

“Yes.” You saw his head clip in your periphery as he checked how secure you were.

“How do I explain? When you put it on me it felt one way, but when it moved it felt another. Then there was the night that you came back from the hidden city. The way the arms moved then were different than when Mikey was trying to catch me.”

He slowed and very carefully touched your ear pieces.

A rich hum came from it saying it was active.

“That… might be the difference between my control and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s.” His voice had a distant quality.

“This one feels like you. It’s intimate…”

“It is me.” He slid down to your shoulder and pointed to your waist. “It is also now both of us. Focus on adjusting the thickness here.”

It took a long moment to clear other thoughts, but the band soon reconfigured into a thinner one. “Woah…”

“Very good.” He kissed the side of your head. “Any specific mechanics you desire? I imagine this is for stability.”

“Guessing.” You minded him and stood at the ready.

He took you in with a certain level of desire that he tried to reign in.

“Can I make some of those mech arms?”

He quirked out of his leer with interest. “How many?”

“Two?”

“That’s complex… You’re moving two entities on top of the shell itself…” Donnie thought it over. “I would need your gauntlet. I’ve been meaning to take it back for a while now. It’s exceedingly outdated.”

In an unconscious cross, you pulled the item close to your chest and covered it with your other hand.

Donnie gave a flat stare. “Do you still have information to hide?”

“No…” You pursed your lip. “I just… A long time ago Shelly told me not to.”

“Because I was more judgmental.”

“You’re still judgmental.” You smiled.

“But less paranoid, controlling, ill at ease… I could continue?” He leveled with you.

You relaxed at that. “True.”

“It would only be to update and upgrade. I’ll let the information file into my system and give my word that I won’t look it over.”

“Now?”

He shook his head. “A whole process, but with practice you will be able to more easily exercise additional appendages. For now, that will have to fall on me.”

You frowned.

“I know…” He took your hand in a suave maneuver and pecked your knuckles. “In time, dearest, but rest assured, they are an afterthought to me. Unconscious to a point.”

You’d seen that. “Okay…”

“Position me and yourself as you see fit.

You bobbed at attention and squared your jaw. “Okay, please don’t laugh.”

“I’ll work.” He offered and passed an eager glance at his screens.

“Good.” You took his waist and, in a little shuffle, got him about where you wanted which was just about a foot shy of his desk.

He adjusted his monitors for standing and looked to be doing some catch up.

Feeling safely left to your own devices, you examined the space. Donnie’s desk reached just above his knees and you lowered yourself to the ground. You’d only had to duck a little to easily fit under the space and then thought hard before sitting. There you stretched lightly, attempting to touch your toes and generally rolling your back to see how flexible the battle shell was. It moved in time and never pinched, which made you wonder if it was him or you.

Unable to decide, you focused on what you needed to do which started with some shoulder support. Thinking probably too hard on the topic, the battle shell lurched in a stunted way that you imagined must be your control. It crawled up, forming shoulder pads of sorts and you shimmied to see how they felt. Comfortable in spite of being metal, you settled into the set before hopping up enough to crouch. It was in that way that you got your bottoms off and felt a strange nude hunter in a prowl position.

Staving off lethality, you did a quick check of the floor before metering how you laid down. Trying your best to keep your slick from making a wet spot, you squirmed until your feet touched the wall underneath Donnie’s desk. It placed your head somewhere around his feet and you watched him give you a confused glimpse which he quickly tried to hide away.

“I saw that.”

“Saw what?” He turned his head to work on a different screen.

Rolling your eyes amused, you breathed in deep in a centering way. A pose you knew wasn’t for beginners, you had confidence with your bracing aid and laid your arms out at your sides with your palms flat to the floor. Exerting a pressure there, you exhaled before bringing your hips up and attempting to keep your feet together. With the desk in the way, you ended up having to bend your knees as you continued to lift and soon hooked your toes on the edge of the desk for a momentary breather.

You were immediately regretting the bulky shoulder supports and screamed in your mind to change them. Without shape they loosened in a confused way, but with each loud signal of discomfort, they tried over and over to manifest something suited for your needs. You knew, in a fringe sort of way, that if you thought more distinctly the process would go smoother, but you didn’t know what sort of shape would work. It eventually ended with something flattening out against the floor and coming around to brace your neck in a molded arch shape. With your knees floating above, you were an odd sort of comfortable still gripping the desk the best you could with your feet.

“Gonna need those arms in a second.”

From below him, you watched obvious hesitation pass over his face.

“I think the most embarrassing part is over. You can look.”

His gaze immediately went to you with a sense of relief before his brain kicked in to register how you were set. In a flick of his pupil, he gave an interested hum.

“Gonna do a plow position.”

“The one our yoga instructor specifically said not to do?”

“Yeah...?”

“Not like that.”

“Huh?” Before you could do anything more, the shoulder brace you had worked so hard on remade itself from the ground up. Into something new and infinitely more comfortable than anything you imagined, you sent a begrudging frown up at him.

“I will not have you injure yourself.” With a quick check that he had time, he knelt down and stroked your closest leg in a comforting way. “The arms will lift you?”

“I don’t have the strength to hold myself up.”

He nodded. “I believe I’ve placed the position.”

“I’ll let you have that.” You were thankful for what he’d done for your upper back.

“May I say what it reminds me of?”

“The position?”

“You’ll be between me and the desk, correct?”

“Yeah, that’s the goal.”

“Glory hole.”

Your cunt twitched to the open air.

He had to drop to a knee to kiss your hip, but he got his peck and then straightened back up to work.

Giddy that he approved and understood your intention so easily, you were about to move before you realized he’d forgotten something. “Arms, Don!”

“I’m well aware.”

“Then…?”

He said nothing and was quick to scroll through something.

You sat watching him for a second before you sighed and returned to your task. He was clearly ready for you no matter how he acted. You felt his touch through the battle shell as he eased your back with a gentle pressure. A guiding hand, it helped hold you as you kicked off his desk and threw your legs up high like a gymnast on a bar. Your hips began to bend and the battle shell changed to support your body’s inverted gravity. With your spine rapidly becoming perpendicular with the floor, your rushed your head in their descent.

Before they hit the ground, you were hoisted up and heard the soft padding of metal as arms formed out from your back. Feeling a little like a crab in your odd position, you watched Donnie step away to make room and you slotted in where he once was. In a hiking climb, your body lifted along with the arms that you saw coil out and around the legs of the desk for a solid hold. For a moment your lower back brushed the table before the battle shell grew over that point and seemed to lock in around the wood. It left you hanging upside-down, head cradled against the floor, folded in half at the hips, legs on either side of your head, and your dripping sex on prominent display for your partner.

Set between one of Donnie’s feet and his prosthetic, you trailed up him and tried not to snort as you got a new angle on his shredded sweats. A tease was on your lips about their usefulness but his cock falling heavily above you took your breath away.

A single drip of his arousal strung down his throbbing length and dripped right onto your cheek.

Love flooded your gaze as his hand appeared around his length to hold himself steady. He took a wide stance with you between his legs and the cowboy imagery multiplied as he saddled up. With a single readying swipe, he left the tip of his member against your entrance and let go to see if the angle was right. With a faint bob and his erection keeping him perfectly aligned, he opted for a hands-free entrance.

It only took an inching forward thrust and you accepted him instantly through the many layers of desire. Not just today, but from the last week, you felt your long baked ache eviscerated with each inch of him. The fold meant you could see exactly how he entered you and you felt a sort of awe at how easily you stretched to accommodate him. He moved with care that you soon realized stemmed from the one flaw of this position. While you were a hole right in front of him, your actual anatomy curved downward which tugged his cock along with it. It meant his glans pressed hard against your septum. A feeling that in any world without Donnie you imagined you would never feel, you wondered how the sensation felt for him.

Not finding your answer as you could see little more than him fucking you, your searched to find his tail at attention. Another thing you had yet to see, there was an anticipatory wave of the thin green flag. It led you further into where thick walls of muscles made up his inner thighs. You clenched in awe of his anatomy and it caused a sensitive twitch from where your cunt had an awkward hold on his cock.

You dropped as if on a rollercoaster.

Squeaking in fear, the mechanical arms whirled around you. A flurry of sound, you were walked into a lower position so your entrance was an eager door below him. Something that worked for his anatomy since his member emerged from a similar place between his legs, it also meant he could plunge straight down in the angle that worked for your body. It melded your pelvises and he only had to do a minor squat to enter with the battle shell adjusting your height.

With the first testing thrust, your pleasure tripled.

Whining, you were mesmerized to see the drag of your sex refusing to let him go. Your sensitive innards chased him with a cling in contrast to how they stretched and it sent pulses straight to your brain where you saw every vein of him disappear into you. Imagining this was what he always saw, a bumper crop of envy appeared only to be washed away by the tendrils of combined slick rapidly rushing down your mons. It fell in needy strings that dripped onto your face and you could only mewl desire as he squared his hips.

Riding you much like a saddle with a jaunty bounce, it was an easy show of his leg strength as he picked up the pace. It sounded an echoing squelch from the cavern beneath his desk and in a rocking clip you watched him move a monitor around. Knowing he was working all while felt like a sultry undermining of your person and your clenched down on the length your body was made for.

You were only a hole for him to spill into and this position marked one where you were quite literally the cum dump. It furthered your excitement and the battle shell held you steady where you tried to meet his strides. Either for control or the safety of your weight teetering on your spine, you weren’t sure, but Donnie overrode any commands, not that you could form enough coherent thought to execute them. Crying as more of you both splattered your face, you lapped at the juices and cried out in inexact need.

It earned you a heavier press where your bones screamed back in a move they weren’t made for and it was yet another enhancement. A little pain as the salt to the sweet, you imagined that this was meant to be a perfect moment. One that had a building tension, all roads led to you being fucked by Donnie and those were trips you’d take every single day.

Delirious and drunk off all your senses encapsulated by sex, you felt a wind that already sucked at him greedily to keep him in place. Your desperation channeled to your very core and you watched as Donnie must have felt it too because his arms flailed to grip the desk. He held it to pull himself out and you watched your puffy soaked sex claw against the drag before he released in a literal sense to plunge into you.

He gave up thrusting there and then, letting you squeeze the life out of him and his body shook. Too fucked out to make sense of his actions and wishing your arms weren’t under you only so you could stimulate yourself further, you watched spasms coax him deeper where he forced in his growing knot. Mouth opening, but drool pooling in the back of your throat, you got to see the exact moment his bulb expanded to lock you in.

You came without pretense, fighting for your life against your eyes rolling back so you could see the jerk of his first spurt. He came straight down into the awaiting shoot of your body where you were only ever born to receive him. You meant to relay this as the great moment it was, but the only sound you made was a lip smacking sigh that spoke of the satisfaction that was usually quenched after a long thirst.

Donnie’s hand slammed against something and he hunched forward with a feral noise before he shoved himself as hard as he could against you.

He was already cumming, but you felt him crush some very deep part of you and the feeling whited out your vision.

You slacked, your portion manipulating the battle shell going offline.

Limbs jellied, he poured his contents out until there was nothing left and held even longer until he was just starting to retreat.

He pulled out with a sudden rapidity where you got a front row seat to the show of his softening cock flopping upon exit and the waterfall of his cum rushing a confused overflow. Dumbfounded as it dripped, clingy, to your body, it ran over your stomach, filed through folds and creases, and eventually found your face where you giggled happily as you were showered.

Your pelvis eventually left your vision and Donnie appeared beside you with gentle touches in an attempt to ground you back to this reality. Very much wanting to join him though space held its own warm welcome, he seemed to phase in and out until a heated wet rag pressed your cheek. The first real sensation in what felt like hours, you made an overtaxed noise at the sensation. What initially felt like a scrub warped into what was actually a care laden brush and you realized he was wiping you off.

“… Love you…!” You got out deliriously through loose lips.

He didn’t stop his affectionate brushing and only focused on cleaning you up with a small punctuated, “You.”

“So much…!” You cooed with a bob of your head and vaguely understood it was free and you were lying down somewhere.

In a lean, he appeared as puckered lips which he used to plant a kiss to your forehead. “My glory.”

“Glory…!” You hummed back and snuggled against the air. “Did you win?”

“I did. It was quite the grand finale. I finished my algorithm just as you came.”

“You killed them!”

“I ruined them.” He corrected you with a wet bop to your nose.

You wiggled underneath him. “Owe me a marathon!”

“I don’t believe you’ll make it past the starting line.” He must have finished because you were being scooped up into his arms.

You hung the useless bride. “Just start without me. Fuck me sleeping. It’s hot!”

His drifting smile said he agreed and you were laid out into a plush wonderland.

“Oh…” You openly moaned and squirmed in the delightfully soft sheets.

“Clean enough. Feel free to slumber and we’ll cash in the marathon later, no matter how tempting your offer.”

“Glad you made it… Missed you…” You felt a dreary dark coming for you.

It might have been exhaustion, but you were sure you saw open guilt pass his features as he looked away. “I as well.”

“You’re…” Will was rapidly leaving you. “… back… right…?”

He turned a condemned sort of smile to you. “Yes. As of right now. I’m here.” It seemed an odd specification and there was a haunting quality to his face that you carried along with you as you drifted off.

I made it to February 2nd, but I think my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83 are in groundhog day editing my works!

#weakspotfic #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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