Before I let go
Bayverse Donatello x Reader
Started as a little Drabble but somehow it evolved and got kind of lame. Sorry about that.
UPDATED WITH THE MISSING ENDING YALL IM SO SORRY
Falling for April had been like watching a really good movie and proclaiming it to be your favorite.
It was a rush, excitement that bubbled and fizzed and left him wanting to feel it over and over again.
It was nice, but it didn't last.
April was nice, she was pretty and smart and never really treated them different than the rest of her friends. But he was young and awkward and when he saw how happy Casey made her, he found that that crush was more admiration than love. The love he had for her, it was just like the love he had for his brothers.
When they accidentally crushed through the roof of April's apartment and right into the room you rented from her...well they had no option but to make you a part of the team.
It took a long time for you to get used to them, for you to slowly get comfortable and find a home in the lair, in them.
Raph made it hard for you. He didn't like you, but to be fair he didn't like April at first either. Learning that she was their Hogosha, the very reason they were alive, certainly eased the tension between them. You didn't have that cushion to ease Raph's unease.
But where Raphael was all rough edges and biting attitude, Donnie took quite a liking to you, even though the majority of the time you were around he was locked in his lab, hunched over his screens or a new project.
Like right now for instance, he was fixing April's watch, the one he had gifted her a few years ago for her Birthday. The sensors were off, and the screen barely registered a touch. It was honestly garbage, too old to even bother with. But April was adamant in keeping it, in having him fix it.
He was touched, that she seemed to hold the watch so close to her heart. So he'd fix it as best as he could.
"Donatello?"
He jumps, dropping the screwdriver on the ground. You were probably the only person that called him by his full name. Where it anyone else, he would insist on Donnie. But he liked the way his name sounded on your lips. Setting the watch down he spins around in his chair to face you.
You're standing at the little makeshift door he had created, your hand pressed against the wood.
"Hey," he starts, adjusting his frames. "When did you get here?"
You make a face and Donnie deduces that its somewhere between disappointment and embarrassment. "I, uh, came in with April."
Your reaction makes a lot of sense and he suddenly feels like an absolute jackass. He had been out in the lair when you both had arrived, yet somehow he hadn't noticed that when the lair door opened you were right behind April. "Sorry," he says quickly, the feeling only growing as he feels his face heat up. "It's been a rough week. I didn't mean to ignore you."
"Its okay. The rest of them went with April to the surface to pick up food... is it okay if I stay here with you?"
"You want to be in my lab with me?" No one ever wants to be in the lab with him, especially when he was working. According to Mikey he could be a real jerk when concentrating.
"I'll be quiet. I just don't want to be alone. Splinter is meditating, otherwise I would go spend time with him. I know you like being alone so I get it if you want me to go aw-"
"No! I don't mind, not at all. Let me get you a chair!" He quickly stands, suddenly excited to have you sit with him.
"Are you sure?" you ask, but he's already sliding a chair across the small space, holding it out for you.
"I could use the company," he starts, retrieving the screwdriver he had dropped. "I'm, uh, not working on anything too exciting so I'm sorry if you get bored."
He watches you sit, pulling yourself closer to the desk he had been hunched over and peering at the dismantled watch. Every piece had its perfect little spot on the table, every tool laid out in a neat line.
"I like watching you work." you say softly, scooting to the side as he pulls his own chair close. "I always learn something, even though I'm positive I'll never be able to do half the things that you do."
Donnie feels his cheeks warm at your compliment, and he's grateful for the mask covering part of his face. "I, uh,-" what was he supposed to say to that? No one ever said they liked watching him work.
You giggle, bringing your legs up to your chest and leaning closer. "Is there anything I can help you with?"
He's grateful for the question, grateful for the chance to stop thinking about how your words had completely thrown him off. He fixes his frames, a habit he could never seem to break, and takes a seat, moving his chair close to yours. "Actually, there's something you could help me with."
You lean in even more, dropping a foot. He can smell the softness of your perfume and he inhales a little deeper. "What do you need?"
He stutters, telling you that your hands are much smaller than his, better suited for dealing with such tiny little pieces. If you would be willing to follow his instructions, he thinks there's a way he could better fix the touch screen sensor.
"Sounds fun, lets do this."
He walks you through it, telling you what tools to use and what to look for. You follow his directions, working slowly and deftly.
Donnie finds himself staring. A lot. He doesn't know if you're aware of it or not, but you frown when you focus and it's rather adorable. It's rare for him to let anyone work with him in his lab, but he finds that with you, it feels natural. You actually pay attention, ask questions when you don't understand what he's saying, and most importantly, you aren't getting frustrated with him.
He knows he's a lot, that the way he's leaning over you and watching you like a hawk is tethering on the edge of being slightly overbearing, but its fascinating, watching you work. It comes to a point that he could take over and finish, but he takes a peak at your face; sees the way your eyes are almost glowing in concentration, and he decides against interrupting.
Who cares that he could finish in under a minute, he wasn't about to take this moment away from you.
"You're staring at me." you say softly, your eyes flicking up to meet his. "Am I doing something wrong?"
Guilty that he's been caught, he touches his glasses and inches away. "No! I was just admiring you." he blurts out before freezing.
He was not supposed to say that. He was not supposed to say that.
You tilt your head, raising an eyebrow at him. "Admiring me?"
He feels the heat on his face grow and grow until its oozing out of him. He can't look at you anymore, his eyes finding a spot on his desk that was suddenly so very interesting.
"I mean the way you work. I was admiring the way you handle yourself with such skill," he stammers, trying to backpedal.
You don't say anything back, but he can feel your eyes on him and it takes a lot to look over at you. He finds you smiling, and he swears he feels his heart skip a beat. "Do you want to finish?"
You were so good at making his awkward moments feel less awkward. Donnie nods eagerly, relieved for the change of subject. His fingers brush against your palm when he grabs the watch and he swears he feels his heart skip a beat.
"I-" you start to say but at that exact same time Mikey barges in through the door.
"Guess who's back! That's right, we're here and we've got food! So I need you two nerds to come follow me 'cause I can't guarantee left over pizza."
You laugh, turning in your chair to face the youngest turtle. "Nerds, Mikey, really?"
He holds his hands up. "Hey, I said it with love, angel. Now come on, Raph's picking a movie."
Donnie bends over, slipping his goggles over his glasses. "I'm going to stay here. I'm almost done with April's watch." he says, for some reason agitated at his brother interrupting. Sure things had been a little awkward, but he wasn't ready to let go of you just yet.
"You heard him, Mikey, I'll see you in a bit."
At that both turtles have the same reaction, looking at you with surprise.
"You want to stay here?" they both ask simultaneously, both with different tones. Mikey's was more skeptical, while Donnie had asked it with such surprise that you couldn't help but laugh.
"I want to see this to completion, Donatello."
"Oh-"
"I guess I can save you guys a slice... but I can't make any promises." Mikey fake sighs, talking over his brother before shaking his head and walking out of the lab.
Your smile is wide as you face Donnie. "Do you think he will?"
"Absolutely not. You don't have to stay here with me though. Honestly, this is going to take no time at all. You should go eat and hang out with-" he rambles, but you stop him, placing your hand on his bicep. Its still something he hasn't gotten used to, the feeling of a human's touch against his skin. Where he was scales and bumps, you were smooth and warm. An interesting contract. The five fingers always threw him off though.
"Unless that's your way of telling me to leave you alone, I actually prefer being here with you. It's..." you pause, working the words around your mouth. "I like being around you, its calming in a way."
Donnie's heart swells at your words and he can feel a warm sensation spread throughout his body. He's not used to someone wanting to be around him just for the sake of his company.
"I...I.. do you want to share a Pop-tart?"
Smooth Donnie, very, very smooth.
Something in Donnie changes, suddenly he finds himself looking for you, thinking about you, wanting to be with you.
The more time he spends with you, the harder he finds himself falling for you. It's stupid, he knows that. There's no way that a turtle like him could be with you. You were from two different worlds, two different species, but that didn't stop him from fantasizing. From staying up at night, his body thrumming with energy as he thought about you.
This was bound to end in nothing but heartache, but for right now, Donnie wanted nothing more than to suffocate himself in his feelings for you.
The more time he spent with you, the more he learned about you.
You didn't like soda, found the feeling of carbonation overwhelming, but when he'd offer you a sip from his own cup you would never say no. You were far more introverted than he first thought, and you liked being alone. You were a horrible texter, but if he'd message you on the app he created for the team, you were more likely to respond. Your favorite color was an atrocious shade of barbie pink, but purple came close. When he has asked why purple, you had simply tugged on his mask and sent his brain into overload.
He wished he was brave enough to flirt, to make you as flustered as you made him. But whenever you were around, he found himself a nervous, stuttering mess. Still, he craved those moments with you.
So when he sees April and Casey enter the lair without you, he feels a crushing sense of disappointment. They had planned this game night for an entire week, were you not coming? Were you running late? He finds April in the kitchen, putting away a box of ice cream in the frezeer and asks about you.
"I haven't seen her all day, Donnie. Last I heard, she was visiting her sister over in Stony Brook. Did you try calling her?"
He shakes his head, already patting his hands down his cargo pants for his phone. "I'll do that, thanks."
You answer on the second ring and the sound of your voice calms his panic. "Hey, whats up?"
"Where are you? We're about to start!"
There's a pause before you answer, confusion clear in your voice. "What do you mean?"
"It's game night, remember? Mikey's got that new game he's been eyeing for months. Everyone is here."
"Oh." Is all you say before he can hear you shift the phone around, your voice tight. "I...I don't think I was invited."
The silence that follows is stifling, Donnie 's heart sinking at the thought that you might have been left out. "I'm sorry, I thought Mikey had invited everyone," he finally says, feeling guilty. "I should have told you about it myself, but it didn't cross my mind, I-"
"It's okay." you say, your voice small. He can hear the pain in your voice and it's crushing him. "I'm about to go underground. I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Okay..." he says, knowing that you've already hung up. He didn't hear the train, didn't hear any sort of sound that would indicate you were outside, let alone a station. It was a lie, but he couldn't bring himself to be upset about it. The pain had been so crystal clear in your voice, he couldn't be mad at you for not wanting to talk to him. They were all supposed to be a team, a family. So how come it suddenly seemed like he was the only one that cared?
He could hear the laughter from the main room, could hear Mikey and Leo arguing with Casey. Everything seemed normal on the surface, but Donnie couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. He wondered if anyone else had noticed your absence, or if they were too caught up in the game to realize.
As he made his way back to the main room, he tried to push his worries to the back of his mind. He didn't want to ruin the night for everyone else. But as he sat down next to Mikey, his mind kept drifting back to you. He wished he had known you weren't invited, wished he could have done something to make it right.
"Everything okay, Donnie?" Leo asked, giving him a concerned look.
Donnie forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just distracted, I guess."
Leo didn't seem convinced, but he didn't push the issue. Instead, he turned back to the game, and Donnie did his best to join in. But his heart wasn't in it, and he couldn't help but wonder how you were doing, and if there was anything he could do to make it up to you.
He couldn't sit still, his leg bouncing on the floor. He kept turning his phone in his hand, hoping that you'd call him back, that you'd message him.
Finally, he cracked, unable to take anymore. He sent you a quick message asking if you were home, hoping that this was one of the nights where you'd actually respond on time.
'Just made it.' came your respond, automatically.
His fingers flew across the screen. 'Be there soon' as soon as he hit send he was on his feet, startling Raph.
"I'm heading out!" he shouts over the noise, easily maneuvering his way to the door.
"Where you off to bro?" Mikey asks, looking at him from the spot on the ground he'd claimed.
"We're missing someone, I'm gonna go get her." he shouts, already out the door.
Its cold, the sky a myriad of blues and purples, and Donnie knows that it's going to snow. He can feel it in the atmospheric pressure, see it in the way the sky seems to hang so heavy. It wont be a lot, it never seems to snow heavy in the city. What with all the pollution, it shouldn't be a surprise. But it starts to flurry as he reaches your apartment. He has to climb up the fire escape, seeing as you lived right in the middle of the building.
There are no lights on as he crouches by your window, and he wonders if you've fallen asleep or if you've stepped out. But when he glances at his watch and notices the time, it's more likely that you're in bed. So he knocks. Three gentle taps against the window and waits a few seconds before doing it again.
No answer. This time he's a little louder. It seems to work, the lights coming on and almost blinding him. He has to blink away the spots as he hears the window slide open.
"Were you here long?" you ask, but it takes him a long time to answer. He can smell the warmth of your skin, feel it radiating off of you in waves. There was a strong smell of Marjoram that made him inch closer to you, and when he opened his eyes he saw that your hair was wet. Something about this whole thing makes him flustered, and he starts to stutter.
"No...No I just got here." He wants so badly to reach over and grab you, to press your small human frame against his body and inhale. Instead, he leans back a bit, the hold on the window frame tightening. He came here for a reason, and it wasn't to be a creep.
"I'm sorry about tonight, I don't know what happened, why you weren't invited."
Your face falls momentarily, but you shake your head and he feels a droplet of water hit him in the plastron. "It's okay. I know I'm not exactly the most liked human in the group. I'm not mad or anything."
He wants to tell you that Turtle physiology is a lot more complex than a human's, that he can very well smell your emotions and right now you reek of sadness. But he doesn't want to freak you out, so he focuses not on the fact that you've lied to him, again, but on your words.
"You think we don't like you?" he asks, his voice heavy as he crouches down lower to meet your eyes.
You flush, looking away from him. "Look... it's not exactly a secret is it?"
"Why do you say that? Did Raph say something again? You know what he's like-"
"It's not just Raphael," you cut him off and he seals his mouth close. "I'm never invited to things, I'm always the last one to find out about stuff, and when I do show up, people act like I'm not even there."
"That's not true-"
"But it is. It's fine. I get it okay? I'm not like April or Casey, I don't really bring anything to the group. I just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time." He can hear the way you start to choke up, tears clouding your vision before you blink them away and take a shaky breath. "I wish you guys would just tell me to leave already."
Before he's fully aware of what he's doing, Donnie is reaching into the window for you, grabbing onto your shoulder and pulling you close. It's a bit of an awkward angle, and he feels the frame bite into his shoulder, but he hugs you. You're so small, pressed against him, so delicate and he wants nothing but to protect you, to make you feel better. "Don't say that. I care about you, We all care about you."
You sniff, your hand coming to rest on his shell. You don't say anything and he doesn't blame you. What could you possibly say?
He leans back a bit, cocking his head down to look at you. "You're important to me, to all of us. I'm sorry if we made you feel like you aren't."
There's a moment of silence between them, where you don't answer, you just lay your head on his plastron and take a handful of shaky breaths. He simply holds you there, his hand sliding to the top of your back.
He wants to tell you that everything is going to be different now, that he's going to go back home and talk to his brothers and make them be nicer to you. But that's not how things work, that's not going to change the fact that up to this point you've felt like a nuisance, like the spare human.
You pull away from him, breaking him out of his thoughts. "Sorry. I don't mean to get emotional."
He smiles at you a bit, running a thumb across your red cheek. "I'm glad that you did. I don't want you to feel like you can't come to me."
Your face darkens as you nod and he doesn't know what possessed him to do such a thing, but he lets his thumb fall down to your lip. His eyes never leave yours as he trails his callused finger across your bottom lip. He leans in when your mouth falls open and he can feel your gasp against his scales.
He almost breaks the distance, he almost leans in and kisses you right then and there. But he pulls away, dropping his hand from your face. "Do you want to come out here with me?" he asks, leaning away.
You blink a few times, licking your lips and nod.
Gently, he helps you climb out of the window.
The snow starts to fall heavier, wet and heavy clumps that melt as soon as it hits his skin, but it doesn't seem to bother you. He should tell you that coming out here was probably a mistake, that you were probably going to get sick in this weather but he can't.
He finds himself still thinking about that would be kiss. Where had that boldness come from? Why hadn't you pulled away? Why did you look like you wanted it as much as he did?
His thoughts were in disarray, even as he watches you lean against the railing and look down. He wants to ask you, wants to know if perhaps you also feel the same way about him. The fire escape is tiny, and he has to hunch down so as not to hit his head as he takes a step towards you.
"Thank you for coming, by the way. You didn't have to."
He snorts, pushing his glasses up. "It didn't feel right, not having you there."
"You missed me?" you ask, and he can hear the teasing in your words.
"I always miss you." he admits, taking another step. You turn, facing him, your expression unreadable.
The snow starts to really fall now and it sticks to the ground, to the rusted metal of the stairs, to your hair. He breaks the distance, pressing himself against you, his arms falling on either side of your body.
It's... odd. The way your body seems to fit perfectly with his. You're so much smaller than him, all soft curves and fragile bones. He's careful not to apply too much pressure when he bends down, when his snout find the curve of your cheek, his glasses bumping against you. He inhales, the smell of your perfumed skin a comfort to him.
He wants to kiss you, wants to know what you taste like; if your as sweet as the rest of you. But is that even possible?
You were so different than him, even now, as he bumps your forehead with his, he's so much bigger than you.
"Sorry." he whispers, pulling away.
Your hand wraps around the back of his neck, pulling him back against you.
"I want you to kiss me." you whisper, your eyes glued on his.
Donnie feels a surge of electricity at your touch, your words making his chest vibrate. "A-Are you sure?" He's got a million excuses lined up for why this was a bad idea.
But you nod, standing up on your toes so your nose brushes his face.
He leans in, his lips gently pressing against yours. He's careful, unsure of himself, trying to recall all the articles he's read on kissing. It makes him tense, his eyes opening slightly. You have your eyes closed, your lips melting against his. He lets out a groan, his hand slipping up to your back, finding purchase right between your shoulder blades.
For a moment, its just the two of you, lost in the sensation of the kiss. It's awkward, tentative, but it's also electric. Donnie can feel his heart racing in his chest, and he can sense your own heart beating just as fast. He feels you start to pull back but he's not ready for it to end, so he moves with you, keeping your lips on his.
You let out a small whimper when he licks at your lips, your knees buckling. Donnie wraps his arms around your waist, holding you close as your lips part and your tongues touch. He feels a rush of desire wash over him, and he deepens the kiss, exploring your mouth with his tongue. You respond eagerly, your hands roaming over his shoulders and back.
He feels a shiver wrack through his body, the gentleness of your fingers igniting his skin. His hands slip lower, past the small of your back and cupping your ass, dragging your body even closer to his.
You moan against his lips, digging your nails into his scales. Donnie can't help but groan in response, the sensation of your nails on his skin sending a jolt of pleasure straight to his core. He tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as the kiss grows more passionate, sloppier.
"Donnie" you whisper once he drops his head, tilting yours with a nudge of his forehead before his lips are on your neck, your shoulder, your chest. Wherever he can find the sweetness of your skin, he presses a kiss. He wonders, as you moan his name, if this is what it was like to be intoxicated.
He felt like he was floating, yet somehow ground to the earth herself. Donnie is lost in the sensation of your touch, your scent, your taste. It's like nothing he's ever experienced before, and he never wants it to end. His hands roam over your body, caressing every curve and dip, memorizing the feel of you against him.
Every little noise you let out, every whimper, every moan gets ingrained into his brain, into his very soul. It fuels him, makes him want to explore more of your body. Finally he pulls away, searching for your eyes.
You look an absolute mess underneath him and he can't help the cocky smirk that breaks across his face.
You're flushed, your hair is all over the place, the sleeves of your shirt are falling off of your shoulders. Your chest is rising, your breath white clouds in the chilling air.
He's never seen such a beautiful sight before.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice deeper, filled with a need to taste you again.
You give a slow nod, your hands sliding down his arms.
"Do you want to keep going?"
Another nod, your fingers finding the curve of his waist before sliding up his plastron and hooking themselves around the strap of his bag. "Lets go inside," you whisper, pulling him closer. "It's warmer."
He lets you pull him close, lets your lips find his again.
It's a slightly tart, mouthwatering scent, your arousal. So strong that every inhale makes it harder to think, his brain shutting down. It's almost like there's a primal part of his brain that's decided to take charge. Suddenly he's a lot more sure with his hands, with his mouth. Something deep in his belly tightening, a need building within him to possess you, to make you his.
When you pull back, when your hands fall away from him, there's a guttural grown that escapes him, his body missing your touch.
It's rather alarming, the sudden possessiveness running through his veins. It has him swallowing, blinking past the lust, his mind racing.
You're shivering as you climb through the window and wait for him, wrapping your arms around yourself. He takes a second too long, standing there, struggling with his body and you cock your head to the side.
"We...don't have to do this, Donatello." you say softly. "It's cold out, at least come in before you freeze to death."
He thinks about telling you how his body, with the mutagen gene, has better resistance to the cold, but figures that right now is probably the right time for a lesson. So he nods, snapping out of whatever hold he was in and climbs through your window, careful not to accidentally kick you.
Inside is a lot warmer, and with the sudden warmth; its like he can think clearly again. Even though the heat does nothing for the pulsating scent of your pheromones, as its still thick in the back of his system.
"I don't have much experience with this, if I'm being honest. I've only ever slept with one guy and that was years ago. Plus, I'm sure it'll be different with you since you're a-"
"Turtle? Yeah. I wouldn't blame you if you have reservations about it," Donatello finishes for you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I understand that I'm not exactly...normal."
You shake your head, stepping closer to him. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with you, Donatello. I'm just unsure of how this would work. Wouldn't it be different than regular sex?"
Donatello nods thoughtfully, considering your question. "Physically, yes, it would be different. But that doesn't mean it can't be just as enjoyable or intimate. It would be more about finding what works for us and communicating openly and honestly about our needs and boundaries."
He takes a step closer to you, his gaze intense as he continues, "And emotionally...I think it could be just as fulfilling. I care about you, and I want to make sure that we're both comfortable and happy with whatever we do."
"Have you done this before?"
He snorts, emboldened enough by the conversation to wrap his hands around your waist and pull you to him. "Do you really have to ask that?" he lets his fingers slip under your shirt, stroking the soft skin there and inhaling deeply. "I mean, take a look at me. I'm not exactly conventional."
You smile up at him, your hands finding their way to his plastron. "I don't care about convention. I care about you, Donatello."
He chuckles softly, leaning down to nuzzle his snout against your neck. "And here I thought you just wanted to sleep with me because of my devastatingly handsome looks."
You playfully push him away, rolling your eyes. "Please, don't let your ego get any bigger."
Donatello grins, his eyes sparkling with amusement behind his glasses. "Too late, I'm afraid. You've already admitted to wanting to sleep with me. My ego has been boosted to astronomical levels."
You laugh, swatting at his arm. "You're insufferable sometimes, you know that?"
He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs, "And yet, you still want me."
You shiver, your body breaking out in goosebumps as he kisses the spot below your ear. "You know, I think I've changed my mind."
"Have you? Then how come I can still smell your arousal?" he teases, his fingers trailing up your spine.
You whimper, arching your back. "You're lying."
He nips at your skin, shaking his head.
"Nope, I'm not. Your body is giving you away, sweetheart." Donatello trails his lips down your neck, savoring the way your breathing quickens. "And honestly, I find it incredibly flattering that I have this effect on you."
You let out a low moan as he nips at your collarbone, your hands gripping onto his plastron for support. "Is this really possible? Me and you?"
Donatello pulls back, gazing into your eyes. "Anything is possible if we both want it enough. And I want you, more than anything."
"More than anything?" you repeat.
"More than anything." he reassures, leaning in to kiss you once again.
