#donnie 2014

[wolfroks]

[mojimallow]

countdown

bayverse! mikey, raph, and donnie on a mission. ~1k words. [ao3]

"Five..."

These moments were what Michelangelo lived for.

The pulling-back of the slingshot, the loading of the cannon- the way the night seemed to wrap around him and nudge him forwards. Saying go. I've got you.

"Four..."

The tails of his mask floated into his peripheral, flowing in the breeze and almost golden in the harsh, fluorescent lighting flowing up through the skylight.

"Three..."

Donnie was counting on Mikey's left, Raph twirling his sai on his right, and he felt all three of them take a steady breath that seemed to slow the tick of seconds.

"Two..."

It was the calm before the storm. Everything faded out, even in Mike's own mile-a-minute brain.

It was what he figured meditation was probably like for Leo, but with about three thousand percent more oomph.

"One..."

The lights cut out in the warehouse below, and it felt like every single watt of electricity had surged up into Mikey's body instead, crackling and thrumming and urging him to move.

Here we go.

"Now!"

At Donnie's signal, the three of them leapt down through the skylight, shattering it in the process. Shrieks and shouts filled the warehouse below them, punctuated by the shower of glass on cement, and the drop painted a grin onto Mikey's face.

Tuck, roll, plant feet outside the wreckage, launch himself forward. Simple, familiar beats, things he'd been doing since he was fifteen- things he'd been training for for much longer than that.

Nunchuck to the side of a guy's head, another guy's ribs, firm kick to a third goon's chest- firm enough to send him flying, Donnie stepping smoothly out of the way before using his bo to disarm another- dodge the swing of a crowbar, relieve goon of said crowbar, relish in goon's wide-eyed stammer. It was like a dance- not practiced and polished like a waltz or ballet, but fluid and intuitive like his favorite freestylers. It came naturally to him, even more so after years of practice and training and learning exactly what rules he could bend and which he could break.

With the fight being second-nature, all but autopilot, something in the loft area above caught his attention.

"Leo, give-" No Leo. He was still- had better be- resting a broken leg at the lair. Mikey recovered from the muscle memory quickly with a shake of his head, a fist to another bad guy's head. "Raph, give me a boost!"

Like magic- and with a loud groan from whatever poor soul had been in his way- Raph was there, and before Mikey had even fully registered his own movement, he was planting a foot in Raph's outstretched and intertwined hands and being propelled upwards.

Catch the catwalk, pull up, barely even land before launching after the Foot soldier hauling ass towards the exit.

Ignore the fight echoing below. Focus.

That last step sounded a lot like Leo in Mikey's mind, so he trusted it. He threw himself over a line of crates and tackled the guy in a clumsy-but-effective motion, knocking his cargo free of his arms and scrambling after it.

The guy groaned something that was probably supposed to sound threatening, something about "the Master" and "get you."

"Sure thing, brah!" Mikey called over his shoulder, making his way back to the catwalk. "I'll tell your boss down here you deserve an A+ in Threatening 101." He paused for just a beat, tuning back into his brothers' violence. "...assuming he's still awake. "

"Mikey, status!"

"Ready to roll, Don. One freaky chemical thermos coming right up!"

"Then let's get out of here before the surprise part of surprise attack wears off," he yelled, jerking his head upwards. "Raph!"

Raphael grunted, throwing one of the Foot henchmen into two others. "I never get to have any fun, y'know that?"

"You want fun, then you can give Leo a mission report!"

In Leo's defense, none of the brothers took well to being sidelined; not even Mikey, who relished the chance to lay around. Milking an injury to get out of chores (and get gift bags of the good snacks from April) could only hold his attention for so long.

And Big Blue didn't even do that, so really it was no wonder he was fifty kinds of pissy under his calm cool demeanor. Sweeping with a broken leg would do that to a person, Mikey figured.

Either way, it was enough for Raph to groan and retreat, following Mikey and Donnie up to and out of a window.

It was a quick trip back to the rooftops, fading back into the night's familiar grip and out of the sights of goons with guns.

Mikey passed Donnie the bottle of whatever evil goop the Foot had cooked up this time, shot Raph a grin, and took off across the roof like he was finally shot out of the cannon. Now that Don had The Package, Mike could afford to give the reins to the remaining sparks of electricity just under his skin- he could pour absolutely everything he had into a dead sprint just to feel the wind, could drain his battery the best way he knew how.

In the final stretch to the manhole cover of the evening, he added in some flips for flavor.

Five buildings to go.

A double back handspring was just what the doctor ordered, the familiar rattle of his nunchucks punctuating each motion.

Four.

He charged straight at an air conditioning unit, leaping right over it and sticking the landing with flair.

Three more.

Gotta make it count. As many round-offs as he could manage, just because he could. Just to feel the rooftop under his palms.

Two.

He turned, moving backwards and watching his brothers clear the roof behind him with smiles not unlike his own.

"Nice series, Mikey!" Donnie called.

"Ninja skills for the win, dude!"

One left.

A steady jog- forwards this time- to bring himself back to baseline. Let Raph and Donnie fall in step with him.

Pass him.

Mikey stopped on the lip of the roof, staring up at the moon and breathing in the city. Breathing in the night.

Raph- warm and fond, like the night had softened him too- called up to him. "C'mon, man. If I have to deal with his grumpy ass, so do you."

Michelangelo made a big show of his sigh, releasing the last of the fight into the air as theatrically as he possibly could, before following his brothers home.

[sweeneydino]

Dumdums

More redraws!

If you want me to redraw a scene with these designs just send it in asks or tag me and ill do it…some time…

They are pretty fun

[curiousaur]

a ninja so lethal he's wiping out his cousins one straw at a time

[ruru2005]

Without Glasses

+glasses

it's amazing there and funny because in glasses his eyes get bigger and it's funny hahahaha. By the way, if I'm not mistaken, he has +5 glasses for vision

[mushroomgrenade]

Nobody asked but Im delivering.

I dusted off my red bubble and uploaded almost 100 new designs for you turtle people. Grab them here!

And as a reminder, sticker sheets are always still available, grab them here!

⭐Please help reblog! Theyre super helpful and I appreciate it!⭐

[mishka-o]

Some silly sketches with my self insert <3🧡

(Raph would def use you as a spare weight)

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Me in kindergarten:

Me in uni rn:

[hitwiththefandomz]

Happy February lovelies♡

[faith-forgxtten-land]

Come to Bed | Donatello

this started with the idea of seducing donnie into healthy sleeping patterns and then just. spiralled from there. i didn't really have a specific iteration in mind but reading it back, it definitely fits bayverse most, i think, so that's what i'll categorise it under!

warnings: NSFW, swearing, general filthiness? gender neutral reader, everyone is 18+!!

summary: there is only one way to get donnie to come to bed (two if you count blackmail)

word count: 2411

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It’s nearly 3am and your eyelids feel heavy, eyes glassy and beginning to ache just a little, and Donnie is still not in bed. You look at the empty space beside you, cold and untouched, and kick the covers off your bare legs. The air is cool, goosebumps raising the moment you abandon the comfort of bed, and you almost regret getting up as your feet hit the freezing floor.

Donnie is so lucky you love him and care for his health.

He's exactly where you'd left him hours before, sitting hunched over a desk in his lab, and you wonder briefly if turtles with their shells can suffer the same complications as humans with poor posture. Perhaps you'll force him to join you and Mikey for your bi-weekly yoga sessions. “Donnie?”

The terrapin doesn't so much as flinch, instead burying his face further into a screen that is already way too close to his face. Oh, his prescription is definitely going to need updating soon, you think amusedly. You clear your throat, attempting your best grumpy Raph impersonation. “Oi, four-eyes.”

Now Donnie does flinch, beak nearly crashing into his monitor, glasses slipping as he salvages his precious technology from being assaulted by his face and spinning in his seat to glower at whoever dared disturb him. He relaxes when he realises it's just you, shooting you a scowl that's devoid of any real heat. “You need to stop doing that voice, it's creepy.”

You grin at him, noting the exact moment he registers what you're wearing – or, rather, what you're not wearing. His eyes go wide and his lips part, scowl melting like ice doused in salt. He swallows thickly. “You're meant to be a ninja,” you tease, stepping slowly into his space and letting his hands fall to your waist before they curl around your back as he pulls you close, palms flattening against your spine. “You can't hear when one measly human is behind you?”

“You are so mean to me,” Donnie says instead of answering.

“We both know you like it. Besides,” you look down at your naked skin, his own eyes following your pointed gaze eagerly. “I think I'm being pretty kind, actually. Someone was meant to come to bed three hours ago and ravish me, but apparently, I'm not more interesting than,” you peer over his shoulder as best you can, squinting at the tiny squiggles. Lips pursed, you look at your boyfriend flatly, not bothering to finish your sentence.

“I can explain.”

“World of Warcraft? Really, Donatello?”

He winces at the full name. “I wasn’t playing for long,” he defends himself. “I’ve been looking over some things Leo asked for since this morning, I was just taking a break.”

“Taking a break means coming to bed and not staring at a screen for even longer.” Softer, you add, “I’ve been waiting for you for hours.”

You run your hands up the bumpy skin of his muscled arms, over scars and rough tissue that you’ve pressed kisses to countless times, to rest upon his shoulders. A small part of you is resentful, but the larger, kinder part of you is concerned; his eyes are bloodshot to the extreme, and exhaustion is etched deep into the lines of his face. You dig your nails in and massage a little roughly, feeling those worried knots and doing your best to soothe them with gentle palms.

It hits him then, just exactly what he’d missed out on by getting caught up, and his shoulders sag under the tender weight of your caress, twitchy energy that can keep him up for days deserting him instantly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly.

You smile at him, fond and warm, one hand trailing upwards to cup his jaw. “It’s okay.” His skin is something you’ll never get tired of touching, you think, as you rub your thumb over the swell of his cheek. You pinch him a little, coy and mean the way you know he loves, before soothing it with a whisper of a kiss when he hisses playfully. “Although, you’ll have to make it up to me.”

“And what is my punishment?” he asks dryly, guilt pushed aside to indulge in your teasing as you lean closer to hide your smirk in the crook of his neck.

“You’ll be in bed by 11 p.m. sharp every night for the next week.” You can tell an objection is on the tip of his tongue, and you fix your teeth along his throat in warning. “I’ve already cleared everything with Splinter and Leo.” 

Donnie sighs both in pleasure and in resignation. “Are you trying to seduce me into having healthy sleeping patterns?”

You start to kiss his neck, soft grazes of your lips against his scaled skin. “Maybe. Is it working?”

“Well—”

“If the answer isn’t yes, I’ll be very offended and I’ll be forced to dump you,” you add airily, tongue flicking leisurely over his rapid pulse. “You're incredibly lucky I haven't already for ditching me for World of fucking Warcraft.”

“Oh, blackmail too. Lucky me,” Donnie mutters, but it’s full of mirth and he doesn't push his luck any further.

You grin against his skin, and you grin even wider when he starts as your teeth scrape along the column of his throat. His hands have a bruising grip on your hips, and you bite down harder just to feel his grip tighten.

“You’re such a tease,” he whines, unable to stop himself bucking up into you. His breathing has turned to panting, short and desperate gasps that make heat curl in your stomach, and you trail your nails down the keratin of his plastron slowly.

“You love it,” you murmur coyly, fingers brushing against the elastic of his waistband mischievously. “And you deserve it.”

Donnie curses loudly, head falling back as you pull on that elastic just to let it snap back against him. His pants are soaking, and you feel that familiar rush of smug satisfaction as you slot your knee between his thighs. It does terrible things to your ego seeing him like this; it makes you drunk and dizzy seeing him drenched and needy for you, and you groan under your breath as he grinds against you. 

“Please,” he whimpers.

You hum as casually as you can. “Please what?”

“Fuck, please, I need you—” He cuts himself off with a loud cry of your name as you slide two fingers past his waistband and into his dripping cloaca.

“Keep going.”

He’s quick to turn into a blubbering mess, drool running down his chin and words slurring as he babbles and begs you to continue finger-fucking him. “Don’t stop, please—yes, yes, right there, there, fuck—”

Your fingers pump in and out, scissoring inside him at a harsh pace you know he likes. He’s sopping wet but that doesn’t stop the tiny spikes of pain mixing deliriously with pleasure as you stretch him wide without warning. You can feel his slick coating your hand, running down your skin and over your knuckles, and he only gushes more when you add a third digit.

“Faster, faster,” he chants shakily, almost sobbing when you slow instead. 

“You’re so tight, baby,” you purr. “I wouldn’t wanna hurt you.”

He’s definitely sobbing now. “I can take it, please, please.”

“Oh?” You curl your fingers and fuck him harder and faster, just the way he wants. His cock is there, thick and heavy and ready to drop, and he shudders as you brush softly against it.

His voice is choked as he calls your name again. "Gonna drop, please–”

Your laugh is light and a little cruel and it makes him wail, the sound overflowing with need and desperation. “Don’t you dare.”

“Oh god,” Donnie gasps as your fingers rub along his length still tucked inside, a fresh wave of slick trickling down to your wrist.

“I would’ve been kind,” you tell him nonchalantly, kissing his temple and huffing another laugh when he can’t stop his hips from grinding into you, body begging you to bury your fingers deeper inside him. “But you’ve been such a bad boy.”

He drops with a guttural groan followed by a pathetic whimper, gasping apologies feebly.

You sigh and pull your hand back, your resolve faltering just a little when Donnie whines and cries louder at the action. “You’re being very bad tonight, baby.”

He’s still wearing his pants and you roll your lips to hide a smile as he tugs them down frantically, his cock finally free in the air. His hands grip the arms of his chair so hard that you swear you hear them creak, desperate to touch himself but not wanting to disobey you any further. It’s a bit late to play innocent and good now, and you shoot him an unimpressed look that makes his jaw clench. “Please,” Donnie breathes.

Your hand is still soaked, and you watch him watch you as you raise your fingers to your lips, sticky tendrils trembling as you rub your fingertips together before parting them slowly. Eyes fixed on his, you glide your tongue over his slick, sucking gently and exhaling quietly at the flavour that blooms over your tastebuds. The arms of the chair are definitely creaking now, and you smile coyly as his cock twitches.

“Please.”

As much as you love teasing him into a pathetic frenzy, you remember his weary eyes and decide to put him out of his misery. There’ll be plenty of time to punish Donnie the way he deserves later – lots of edging and whining and begging and very little relief. For now, you’ll give him what he wants.

You kneel between his legs, coquettish as you glance up at him through your lashes; he’s working his jaw, teeth clenched and eyes darting wildly as he barely holds himself together. Grasping his hard cock in your hand, slick and heavy, you begin to pump slowly.

The chirps and churrs that escape him are whining and full of ecstasy, his eyes fluttering as you squeeze your palms around his thick length, hands twisting with an obscene squelch at every stroke. The lab is quiet apart from the wet pumping and his throaty groans, and you wonder if his moaning will be loud enough to wake the others. It wouldn’t surprise you, and the thought makes your hand move faster as you rub your thumb over the sensitive head of his cock.

Donnie can’t stop the stutter of his hips, head falling back. “Fuck.” He swears louder as your lips suckle his tip, your name a rasping prayer spilling from his mouth. You flick your tongue, tasting the slightly bitter flavour of his precum and just how soaked he is, evidence of what you do to him coating your face, and he cries noisily when you suddenly take another few inches into your mouth and swallow around him. He’s hitting the back of your throat, and he feels like he’s about to faint from how tight and warm you feel.

A wave of embarrassment hits him as you pull back and smirk, his head still pressed against your flirtatious smile while you continue to work him with your hands. “Please,” he begs for what feels like the hundredth time that night.

“You’re so good at begging,” you praise, eyes sparkling when it makes him moan lewdly. Oh, that definitely woke someone up. He’s back to bucking his hips and because you’re so kind, you let him dictate the pace as you continue pumping.

“So close,” he breathes shakily. “I’m so close, please.”

“Please, what?”

His eyes roll back, and the arms of his chair finally give way, crumbling under his crushing grip as impressions of his hands mould into the metal. Donnie doesn’t stop rocking and whimpering. “Please let me come.”

You kiss the head of his cock once more, delighting in the way he tremors at the whisper of touch. “Be a good boy and come for me, Donatello.”

There’s nothing Donnie loves more than being good for you and he shows this by coming undone the second his name leaves your lips, body jolting and convulsing like he's been struck by lightning as you continue to milk his cock while his orgasm wracks through him. Your face is completely covered, ropes of his come painting your skin as he groans pitifully, the sound agonised and mewling. 

It’s almost silent for a few moments, the only noises are Donnie’s wheezing pants and whimpers of oversensitivity, and you watch him quietly. He’s so beautiful like this, blissed out, stress a stranger rather than a constant companion, and you wish you could both stay like this.

The moment is over too soon as the terrapin manages to open his eyes blearily, although they nearly shut again in dizzying satisfaction when he catches sight of your come-smeared cheeks. It’s dripping down your chin, threatening to spill down your neck and to your chest, and a part of you wants to leave it, relishing in the way Donnie is entirely transfixed, but you scoop what you can on your fingers and bring the sticky threads to your mouth instead.

Donnie’s lips part and his breath hitches and it’s your turn to shut your eyes in pleasure, eyes rolling and unable to stop a soft groan as you lick and swallow what he’s given you. “Mean,” he accuses again when you finally open your eyes, and you grin at how faint he sounds.

“Just for you,” you agree and he churrs instinctively, flushing as you snicker. He’s so cute, you think fondly, letting him reach out and grasp you closer, seeking comfort. And so easy.

“I think I need that nap now,” Donnie tells you weakly, and you huff another laugh against his sweaty skin, tasting salt and nuzzling further into him. 

You press a loving kiss to his shoulder and reluctantly pull back. “Shower then bed, come on.” His legs are shaky, and you purse your lips to stop from chuckling as he stumbles like a newborn lamb, begrudgingly relenting to leaning against you. “Poor Bambi,” you tease, brushing your lips against his plastron in a loving caress when he grumbles playfully. 

Hopefully, no one has been awoken by your night-time activities and, if they have, you hope they’re not up and roaming because you’d really rather not have to bump into any of Donnie’s family with his come still coating your face.

[hotheadedhero]

*peeks in here*

*walks away to check if you do bayverse*

*return*

The bay bois getting an s/o who will occasionally will randomly be cuddling and then... *Affectionate bite* then letting go and telling them they love them.

AN: As an affectionate biter myself, I gotcha babes ;)

Affectionate Biting

Bay Turtles x Reader

Warnings: very mildly suggestive, an insomniac trying to grammar <3

Leonardo

The first time you oh-so casually bit him and smiled afterwards as if it was nothing had him going for a spin. Confused is the prominent word to describe how he was feeling at the time. The action was just so unprompted. He couldn't figure out why you felt the need to do something like that, nor how it could be seen as an act of love.

He's learnt over time that it's an unavoidable urge for you. There's nothing you can do about it. You just have to bite him for whatever reason you deem necessary. Leo is all too aware of this by now and may or may not use it to his advantage.

"For every hour we're out tonight, I'll give you a free bite. No questions asked, okay?"

These are terms you can comply with. He knows how much you miss him when he's gone, so setting up this ultimatum is an effective way of letting him go on patrol more easily.

Raphael

Being with you has involved its fair share of revelations and discoveries. There's at least a handful of things he's become savvy to whilst being with you but the random biting is one of the more bizarre ones.

Actions speak louder than words and they always mean the most to him but biting? What's up with that? Humans are weird. That's the conclusion he's come to. Even now in this very moment, you've taken a hold of his wrist whilst curled up in bed together.

"What are you, a cat or something? Quit it."

Of course, he's only joking. It's just so he can see your tongue poke out and your nose scrunch up in the cute way he likes. Even if he did seriously mean for you to stop, he doubts you would. You live by your own rules when it comes to these things. And, sure, you can bite him if you like. Just as long as you expect to get bitten back.

Donatello

It may catch him by surprise from time to time but only because you do it in the most random of situations. Whilst he's working away and you're sitting in his lap, you'll just latch onto the closest part of him you can access. He might jump if he's in the zone but it's never an issue.

Regardless of it being a problem or not, you've had your own curiosities about why you have such a primal impulse to chomp down on your boyfriend. Luckily, Donnie being as knowledgeable as ever has the answers.

"... the desire to pseudo-bite or squeeze anything we find extremely cute is actually a neurochemical reaction. 'Cute aggression' isn't motivated by vicious intent. Instead, scientists think-"

He halts on his words, blinks out of his matter-of-fact mode, and gazes down at you. All the while, you have his forearm locked between your teeth. Your attempt to smile coyly against his skin is adorable, and he smiles back before continuing his explanation.

Michelangelo

He won't ask any questions. In all honesty, he loves it. Although, there might have been a bit of a misunderstanding the first couple of times you went to take a nip at him. Let's just say he thought you were trying to get him in the mood. Can't blame a guy for assuming his lover is a little freaky in the sheets.

Having such a strong force overcome you is something he understands, though. It's like him when it comes to pulling a fast one over his brothers. You can bite him whenever you want to if that's what you feel you need to do. Even if you turned into a zombie, he'd still let you.

"And then we could be like, zombie lovers roaming the streets together."

Mikey holds his arms out, hands dangling as he playfully groans like the undead. You aren't entirely sure how the conversation developed like that but it's cute nonetheless. Hey, he's just being honest. He loves you that much.

[wolfroks]

[oozedninjas]

Spring fleeting

A/N: Fucking rude of me not to have fed my pretty girlies in this much while. In compensation, I offer you: a mating season special!!! You can shoot in a prompt and I'll turn it into a short smut ;) ily!!

Warnings: 18+ / MDNI / Smut / NSFW / edging, orgasm denial, dom!turtles, oral sex / General verses / Mutant guys are 25-29 y/o and they're suffering from spring heat!

Leo doesn't want to breathe because if he does he might get carried away by your scent. He watches from a safe distance never leaving sight of your neck and shoulders. Fuck, he wants to bite them, suck on them, lick a stripe over your pulse line that would cut your breath sharply. Shit, he wants you to hold from the upper end of his shell, begging. Before he registers he's calling your name. Let him lure you elsewhere, yeah?

Raph loves fucking you stupid. Your eyes closed and gaped mouth have him on the verge of coming. Words scarcely coherent enough to moan for more. He's balls deep in you, aching to fill you up once more. But Raph edges himself, just for the bliss of numbing everything away with each crashing orgasm. 

He trembles inside you, cum dripping from your abused cunt as he thrusts. Fuck you love him, you're crazy about him, and he just grins, amused at your stupid failed attempts to communicate it.

Donatello's knowledge of each sensitive part in your body borders on mean when he uses it like this. From your neck to your back, to your lower half. He's held you still for what feels like ages, nibbling, marking, and kissing the bruise after. But none of what he's done equals the cruel way he's sucking your clit: just enough to make your back arch, but never quite granting release. 

Begging wouldn't suffice, it wasn't about that. It was about him showing you how fucking good he could make you feel if you let him, how hard you could come just by his expert tongue. And shit, who are you kidding? You fucking adore it.

Mikey loves how hot you look riding his cock. He's got the best of views! Everything in you is perfect. He reaches up, palming every bit of skin he can get his hands on, squeezing, pinching, scratching. He loves it when his touch makes you weak enough to lose the rhythm, seemingly tumbling over his plastron, finally giving out. 

He's softer when he's had enough, and brings your mouth to his gently, big hands covering your back, pushing you down to his chest before he thrusts up. He reaches that sweet spot so easily like this, and your clit rubs so deliciously over the lower part of his plastron. Come on, don't hold back, you don't gotta do nothing, just relax.

[sweeneydino]

Dums pt.2

Don’t think about it.

…they look like squash-

[sivy-chan-blog]

TMNT MEME

Art by me @sivy-chan-blog

DO NOT REPOST/STEAL PLEASE. Thank you.

[denerturee]

Me with TMNT Bayverse:

Everyone hates you but I love you