
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11355795.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Teenage_Mutant_Ninja_Turtles_(TV_2012)
  Relationship:
      Donatello_(TMNT)/April_O'Neil
  Character:
      Donatello_(TMNT), April_O'Neil
  Additional Tags:
      sensual, Smut, heaven_in_hiding, apriltello, NSFW, TMNT_NSFW, Apriltello
      NSFW, Sex, fixing_donnie, One-Shot
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-06-30 Words: 1977
****** Heaven in Hiding ******
by lukeyandlou
Summary
     Donnie and April have an unknown desire to be touched.
     (NSFW: BONUS FROM FIXING DONNIE CHAPTER 29)
Notes
     Hey guys, this is a continuation excerpt from Fixing Donnie – the
     Apriltello scene in chapter 29. The scene there was watered down, but
     I decided to release this as a more NSFW version, in case you were a
     fan of Fixing Donnie and wanted to see more on this scene or if
     you’re just here for the this.
     Either way, hope you enjoy!
Cold.
Cold was the wind that eased against the crooks in his skin, cold was his
clothes that were still soaked from their dip in the ocean, cold was his blood
when he struggled to figure out why his mind was so damn hot.
Cold was the chills that sprinkled his spine every time that he could hear the
soft puffs of her breathing, each breath a caress to the very surface of the
tiny hairs which littered his back and the new warmth that was harvesting deep
inside his body, an asset to the smoke inside his brain.
Oh.
Everything had felt so light just a minute ago, like he was floating on the
canal that the gravity tucked them both inside of and like the atmosphere was
smothered in colors and sunshine and laughter, so much of it that it rotted his
tummy from the inside out until he was a fool, but only as foolish as she was.
Yet somehow and miraculously enough the butterflies which invested his brain
had been let loose under the flowers that grew in his lungs, so now not only
was it hard to breathe but there was space for the little sparks to spread into
wildfires, which may or may not spread to other parts of him as well.
The sound of the creak of his bed made him jump, his almond eyes prying open
with a shade of desire that at this point, he didn’t even completely
understand. He turns and sees that she is now there beside him, her wavy red
hair gleaming over her smooth and pure skin, the tip of her fingernail’s
lightest pressure on his flesh enough to drive him insane.
She was an art, not only to be looked at, but to be consumed in the loveliest
of ways.
Her eyes were creamy and keen at once, delicate and beautiful enough to heat
him up and keeping the potential power to eat him whole, and although he didn’t
understand it all too well he was starting to think that he was feeling
something even stronger in taste than being in love.
Each freckle and scar and curve on her skin made up the masterpiece of April
O’Neil, a masterpiece with the power to leave Donatello Hamato speechless.
Her presence floating among an angelic cloud of pureness which was contained in
the desire to rip that pureness apart.
“Donnie?”
Her voice was acquiescent with just a tint of fear, and he couldn’t help but
notice the heavy undertone that he never heard in her before. She was staring
at him now, so still in movement and in attempts to mask her rapid pace of
breathing, a single gland of sweat dripping down her skin. She was feeling on
fire, any inch of ice that could have still been present entirely melted off by
her growing thirst for his and touch, and the match that could ignite it. Her
eyes were half engaged in the burning vulnerability in his and the way that his
mouth hung slightly open, saliva lacing his lips, and the slow and steady
rising of his chest in rhythm to her own.
He was like a gift that was waiting to be unwrapped, ready for her to tear
apart.
“Yes April?” he asks, his anxiety desperately convincing him to turn his focus
but his body forcing him to stay locked on the curves of her hips. He was at
mercy to her in every way, so devoted to her affection that it could make him
cry.
Anything in the world.
She dazes back at him, her hair falling over her cheek and her mouth hanging
slightly open, like the words were suspended and blocked by the wetness of her
tongue. She had a mind full of words and a heart full of thought, but the aroma
which had stung her took all of that away – leaving nothing left but the
passion between their two bodies.
She moves a finger first, sliding it gently across his cheek and feeling the
way his breath dropped, and the restraints couldn’t hold her back anymore.  She
grabbed his chin and kissed him, biting against his lip and he instantly
tightly grips both sides of her hips. His cheeks turned red and his lips
trembled, his bloodstream melting and boiling all at once, and although he had
kissed her over and over again somehow this time was different. Somehow this
time he was paralyzed with words, yet so captivated by the art of touch and
movement. He couldn’t breathe, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.
It only fired higher, the feeling of her tongue sliding against his cheek, when
she only pushed more forward instead of pulling away.
She leaned towards him, maneuvering until she lay on top of him, feeling so
light and so delicate yet so fiery and magic, convincing him that pixies were
very much real and that there is one right in front of him. She guides his hand
up her waist, tracing it up her chest.
“April are you-
“Shh,” she sedated him, sliding her fingers along his temple and sliding it
around, gracefully swiping off his bandana. “Let’s do it right this time.”
She stops her movement and leaves his hand on the curves of her chest, the heat
on the bottom of his shell impossible to control. He whimpers at the touch,
even if the still soaked texture of her t-shirt was blocking his hand from
caressing her bare flesh. The gleam in her eyes enhances at his surrender to
submission, and she aggressively wraps her fingers around the wrist of the
other hand.
She guides him to the corner of her shirt and shuts his fingers against the
curve, pushing gently until he finally rips the shirt off, freeing her chest to
his grasp. His face was painted in crimson, rushing through every inch of his
veins, his heartbeat audible and his limbs beginning to shake.
His hand still rested on the hot pink bra that secured her together, his thumb
tracing along the white lace and the bow in the center. It was almost as
beautiful as she was.
She leans back over him to kiss him again, keeping his hands in circular motion
over her sheltered breasts. She nibbled on his lip and pulled it downward so
that her mouth was against his neck, tenderly sucking against the sensitive
skin, making sure to leave marks to signify the light sinking of her teeth and
the way her tongue ran along his collarbone until he finally released a soft,
subtle moan. He is unable to contain his inside, feeling it resting stiffly
against his thigh and the thought of it touching hers only made it harder. He
sits up and holds her closer to him, causing her to yelp at the sudden
aggression, sloppily unhooking the little lacey bra and throwing it to the
floor and turning her back over, slamming her against the mattress so that he
finally can lay eyes on the bare curves of her breasts.
They were so much softer this way, perking against the brim of his arms and
fitting so perfectly into his palms. He couldn’t help but to sink his face into
her chest, absorbing her scent as his own and growling softly as her nails sink
lightly into his shoulders. His eyes lit from the presence of both of her bare
breasts against both of his cheeks, and her fingers caressing the top of his
scalp. He turns his face to the slightest to kiss both of them, the complexion
of his blood-filled lips matching the pinkness of her nipples and the taste of
her struck him to a hum and her to a halting of breath. He sucks them lightly
and looks up to her innocently, blinking his eyes, and nuzzling the side of his
head against her ribcage.
“Can I touch you?”
She asks so plainly, so simple, yet her eyes were engulfed by lust and the
desire to hold him down and make her his. His confidence shrivels back to a
submissive state, crawling back beside her and nodding. She rubs her fingers up
and down his chest, teasing lower and upper again until she is lacing against
his thighs. Without hesitation she moves her hand deeply to stroke his tail,
and he is not able to halt the moan which releases his body into her grasp. She
traces against it carefully, following up and down the shaft to tease the stars
in his eyes so that she can lean over and kiss him only to hear him whine.
Whine for a power that only she had.
Donnie breaks away, setting her onto the mattress and getting up to reach for a
drawer which temporarily changes her expression to confusion until she catches
on from the falling of a wrapper.
“This is okay?” he whispers, holding the condom and sliding it amongst his
length.
“Of course it’s okay,” she whispers, stroking the side of his face in comfort.
“I love you.”
Donnie moves to silkily slide her shorts and thong off of her and onto the
floor, leaving her completely bare and exposed. He stops a moment to stare at
her curves, appreciating the most beautiful thing that this universe had ever
known.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, taking a second to appreciate every mark
and curve that made her up which he couldn’t comprehend during that last
mistake, when they were both far from sober.
She smiles and pulls him closer to her, nuzzling his cheek with her own and
wrapping her thighs around his hips. She gestures for him to push forward, and
he slides inside her, deepest as he can until she is completely full with him.
Once he had entered her body, every last bit of pain had completely drained
from his own.
She pulled down with her legs in a gesture for him to move, and he begins a
slow rhythm, assuring that she has grown comfortable and waiting for her to
take control. Once a soft moan escapes her lips, he takes it as a signal to
move faster, continuously moving faster until she moans at every thrust.
They had no words, only the chemistry between their intertwined bodies, the
gasps and moans and whines that she gave leading his heat to move forward. The
heat was warming and warming and he knew that soon it would burst, but only
when he saw her shake would he be able to release.
Creak. Creak. Creak. Creak.
She struggled to muster the letters to put together his name, shaking
uncontrollably until he released against her pelvis and stomach after pulling
out of her. The two lay for a second in an attempt to catch their breaths,
their bodies crimson red and completely worn out.
Donnie regained the strength to move beside her, pulling the blanket over their
bodies and spooning her to his chest.
  “I love you, Donatello. I love you and you only, and I will never be prouder
to be yours,” she whispered.
A tear fell down before his eyelid fluttered down, a soft sloppy smile forming
on his face as he tucked her closer to his chest. It was the words he always
wanted, he always craved, he always starved for and that he finally had
obtained.
He didn’t need to say any words, only caress her hair and hum peacefully until
she fell asleep. His head still pounded with the memory of her, the feeling of
her warm skin and soft body and the way her curves fell under his touch, the
sounds she makes and the way she moved to hypnotize him into a spell that would
overtake him forever, for eternity. He was hers, and she was his, and tonight
had proven that.
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