Work Text:
“Damn it all to hell.”
You look up from the book you were reading just in time to see a screwdriver clatter to the floor with a frustrated groan. A miniscule amused grin tugs at the corner of your mouth as you bookmark your spot and set the book down where you were previously sitting. “Everything okay D?”
“Just… peachy,” he mutters through gritted teeth. He slumps forward, resting his forehead on his desk. “I'm never going to fix my battle shell.”
“What did we say about speaking in absolutes, Donnie?”
“What did we say about you annoying the shit out of me?”
You chuckle. You knew he didn't mean it, even if the delivery was completely deadpan. It was just his unique way of showing affection. “What are you having trouble with?”
“I don't know, maybe the smoldering remnants of the outer hardware? Or possibly the severed wires that still occasionally shoot sparks? Take your pick,” he spits, whipping around to look at you. Upon seeing your hands on your hips and your raised eyebrow, he softens. “I'm sorry my love. I didn't mean to snap at you.”
“I know you didn't D,” you respond gently, placing a light kiss on his forehead. A quiet chirp escapes his chest at the gesture.
“I'm just… stressed, is all,” he sighs, poking absent-mindedly at the edge of the destroyed shell. “You know I don't like going around without my battle shell on. Especially because, y'know…” He trails off.
“I know,” you assure, filling the empty space left by his anxiety. Donnie was insecure about his soft shell. He let it slip once, early in your relationship when you both had drunk a bit too much. You could count on one hand the amount of times you had seen him without his trusty battle shell, and the confession made it make sense. It was something you decided not to push, lest it make him shut himself out. Since that day, he'd slowly let his trust develop, and now, when it was just the two of you, he rarely kept it on.
However, you still had never touched it. Not to say that curiosity hasn't gotten the better of you. You always wondered how the texture would feel under your delicate fingertips, and what Donnie would think of it too. Would it possibly be soothing to him? Relaxing? Maybe even-
You shake your head, attempting to focus on the present. “I'm sorry you're having such a tough time with this D. Maybe you should take a break? When was the last time you slept?”
“When was the last time you were over?”
“Like, two days ago I think?”
“Oh, then two days ago.”
“Donatello Hamato!”
Donnie smiles up at you sheepishly. The anger burning in your chest subsides at his grin. You can't stay mad at him, and he knows it. “I told you, I sleep better when you're around,” he mumbles quietly, and your heart flutters. You reach out and take his hand, lifting him up from his workbench.
“Then come on, idiot.”
~
Donnie’s head slowly rises and falls with your gentle breaths. You had convinced him to move to bed by agreeing to snuggle in your underwear (he claimed he felt warmer that way, being able to soak in your body heat directly, but you knew that was just a paper-thin ruse). He insists on curling up into your side with his head on your chest and his arms wrapped around yours. It makes you feel craved, like he can't bear to have one square inch of him not in contact with you. Well, besides his shell.
“Donnie?” you start, caressing your fingertips absent-mindedly up and down his bicep.
“Hmm?” Donnie hums sleepily, churrs rumbling deep in his chest.
“Has anyone else ever touched your shell besides you and your brothers?”
The churring stops. “Wh- why do you ask?”
“I dunno, I just-” you stutter, nervous at his sudden emotional switch. “I figure if we're gonna stay together long-term, it's something we have to address.”
Donnie pauses a moment, and you can see the inner workings of his mind racing. “I… guess that's fair,” he responds, his voice slightly hesitant. “Well to answer your question, no. And the only times my brothers have touched it were always accidents. I reacted poorly because of my anxiety, and they became extra cautious. Which is why, ever since I could hold a screwdriver, I've made myself some layer of protection.” He began rubbing his thumb rhythmically along the back of your hand, a classic Donnie self-soothing action. “Which is why being able to have it off around you is such a huge step for us. However, I suppose we would have to move past that at some point.”
“It doesn't have to be now D, I just wanted to-”
“Do it.”
You're taken aback by his sudden switch in tone. “A-are you sure Donnie? I don't want to do anything outside of your comfort zone.”
He cups your cheek with his hand, meeting your eyes with a warm smile. “I wouldn't tell you to do it if I wasn't comfortable. And I know you'll stop if I ask.”
His trust calms your nerves. You nod and reach your arm around him, very carefully touching your index finger to the rim of his shell. The texture is unlike anything you've ever felt before: leathery yet soft, firm yet supple. You ever so lightly drag the finger down the rim, taking in the way the ridges ripple under your fingerprint.
Donnie's breath catches in his throat. “Oh,” he murmurs, eyes wide.
You pull your finger away. “I'm sorry, was that-?”
To your surprise, a faint whimper leaves his throat. “No no, do it again.”
Now it's your turn for your breath to catch. You oblige, reaching up to once again caress the outer edge of his shell, applying slightly more pressure this time. A shudder travels down his body, goosebumps prickling his exposed skin. “Are you… enjoying this?” you ask delicately.
“I- I think so,” Donnie replies, his eyes fluttering shut. “Don't stop.”
Your heart pounds in your chest as you reach around further to access more of his exposed shell. You drag your palm deliberately down the middle of his shell, the texture making your hand tingle. A garbled sound between a gasp and a groan escapes Donnie's throat.
“Th-that feels… so fucking good,” he sighs, his body practically melting into yours. “Whatever you do, keep doing that.”
Your heart races and your breathing quickens as he begins to place messy kisses along your collarbone. Of course, sex wasn't new to the two of you, but Donnie felt more comfortable being in charge and focusing on your pleasure. Not to mention he always wore his battle shell, “just in case for protection,” he claimed. But this was new, different, exciting. Watching him let himself go to a deeper sense of pleasure was exhilarating, and the warmth building in your core only served to further prove that.
You continue dragging your hand up and down the surface of his shell, light breathy moans leaving your lips as Donnie nips and sucks at the point where your neck meets your shoulder. At one particularly hard bite you dig your nails into the surface of his shell without thinking. Donnie yelps against your skin which causes you to immediately pull your hands away. “Fuck D I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to, I just couldn't help-”
He cuts you off with a surprisingly forceful kiss, slotting his tongue into your mouth without warning. Your eyes roll back into your head as you let his tongue explore inside your cheeks. After what feels like blissful eternity he pulls away, looking at you like you're his last meal on death row. “Did I fucking tell you to stop?”
The command in his voice shoots shivers down your spine that culminate in further wetness pooling in your panties. You had never heard this type of voice from him before. “N-no…”
“That's what I thought,” he purred, pulling you into his lap for another kiss. This time you wrap your arms around his slender waist without hesitation and drag both sets of fingernails down his leathery exterior. His hips buck into yours without warning, and the idea that you are driving him to a level of uncontrollable craziness has your mind reeling. You decide to push your luck.
On the way back up, you just barely ghost your fingertips along the surface of his shell, making him shiver in anticipation. He groans and buries his head back into your neck, sucking at the exposed skin. “Fucking tease,” he grumbles, cupping your ass in his strong hands and massaging it roughly. You throw your head back, jaw hanging open. “If you keep screwing with me then I will leave you here on your own to suffer. Understood?”
You swallow thickly, but throw one last move into the ring in an attempt to hold onto control. “I’ll only stop if you are a good boy,” you hum into his ear, reaching up to massage the upper rim of his shell behind his shoulders. He sucks in a breath sharply, muffled chirps clicking in his chest. You smile to yourself, realizing that you had him exactly where you wanted him. You slowly climb off his lap, running your palms down either edge of his shell as you kneel in front of him. You reach around his hips and grasp the hem of his underwear, inching them down his thighs. He lifts his hips instinctively to help you slide them off.
“I know you're just begging to drop,” you purr, bringing one hand down to trace the edges of his weeping slit. His thighs tense on either side of you and he bites his lip so hard it looks like it will bleed. “C'mon sweetheart, let me have your beautiful cock.” You drag one finger up his slit, just barely pressing it in, while continuing to massage the bottom edge of his shell with the other hand.
With a deep, rumbling groan he releases, letting his dick slip out and into your hand. “Excellent job baby,” you encourage, your heart pounding with love when another chirp slips past his beak. You drag your fingers down the underside of him and lower your head, letting your tongue loll out of your mouth and swirl around his head, making a display of the action.
A groan rips through his body as he laces his fingers in your hair and pulls you away from him. “Please my love,” he whimpers, his chest heaving. The pet name makes your heart skip a beat. “I'm not gonna last, I- fuck I need to be inside you so bad.”
“Fine,” you pout, but it's quickly replaced by a smirk. “But only if you follow my rules.” You stand up and make a show of sliding your panties slowly down your thighs, earning an audible swallow from Donnie. You push him further back onto the bed and straddle his waist. Like a reflex, his hands fly to your hips. “I want to ride you, but I want you sitting up so I can… demonstrate how good you make me feel.” You punctuate your statement by scraping one fingernail down his shell's surface.
“Anything you want baby just, fuck, please give me all of you,” he begs, his hips twitching underneath yours. He's gripping your hips so tight that he's sure to leave bruises blossoming over your skin’s surface.
“Good boy using his manners.” Before he can react to what you've said you line him up with your dripping cunt and slowly slide down. You gasp for air, adjusting to his impressive girth as you always had to do when making love with Donnie. You silently pray that it was something you'd never get used to.
Donnie chokes on his groans, burying his beak into your neck and sloppily sucking at your exposed skin. Your body shudders as you fully hilt him inside you and you rake your nails down his leathery back, pulling him impossibly closer.
“Still… still good baby?”
Donnie pulls back and looks up at you with pupils dilated so wide that his eyes may as well have been black. “I swear to Newton that if you don't start moving I'm going to spontaneously combust.”
Letting out a breathless giggle, you slowly lift your hips up then swiftly slam back down, pulling a guttural sound from both of your chests as your hips meet. You grip your nails into Donnie's shell like a lifeline as you set a steady rhythm bouncing in his lap. A garbled mess of curses and your name spills from Donnie's mouth before he leans down to sink his teeth into your shoulder, causing you to reply likewise.
“God baby, you fuck me so good,” you praise, and you can feel his hips bounce upwards to meet yours in response. He leans forward slightly, tilting your pelvis so he hits that oh so delicious spot deep inside you. “Yes, just like that!! Fuck, you're being such a good boy for me, don't stop-”
Donnie lets out a high-pitched, barely audible whimper directly into your ear that you've never heard emanate from him before.
That's all it takes to make you unravel.
You clench around him as your orgasm explodes from your core and races to your fingertips and toes. Your nails instinctively dig into his shell, trying to steady yourself as your chest heaves and your legs quake. Donnie responds in kind, gripping your hips like a vice and holding you down on him as he releases inside of you, hot and thick.
You sit for a few moments, breathing heavily, with your sweat-drenched chest pressed to his plastron. You rest your head on his shoulder, burying your face in his neck, and let your breathing slow to a normal rate. At the same time you rub slow, gentle circles around his shell, soothing the spots where you had previously scratched him like your life depended on it. A deep churring rumbles in his chest, and the soft vibrations send a warm feeling rippling through your chest.
After a few moments, Donnie breaks the silence. “So, yeah. That was, uh. Wow.”
You chuckle weakly. “You're awfully articulate my love.”
“Cut me some slack,” he grumbled, but there was no bite behind his words. “I just learned a lot about myself in a very short time.”
“Well I'm glad,” you murmur. “Because I learned a lot about myself too. Namely that I like being in control every once in a while. And that I love being able to touch your shell.”
“I love it as well.” You can hear the genuine smile in his voice and it makes your heart flutter. Donnie doesn't trust easily, and he lets his guard down even less. So here, hearing that he does both for you, is special beyond words. You lift your head to place a kiss on his cheek, earning a chirp from him, then tenderly lift yourself off of him and collapse on the bed. He leans back and resumes his position of being wrapped around your arm.
“I was not ready for that,” you admitted sheepishly, resting your cheek on the top of his head.
“YOU weren't ready for that? I didn't even know I reacted that way! Jesus Christ.”
You giggle. “Well I, for one, will be taking more advantage of that discovery.” The subtle shudder you feel across his skin makes you feel powerful.
“I feel an impending sense of danger.”
“As you should.”