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String of Fate

Again, I'm posting last month's prompt late. I just got back from an eight-day trip and needed to make some final touches. @thelaundrybitch took my suggestion for the prompt this time, so of course I had to write it!

Soulmates - red string of fate, soul marks, matching marks, first words, names, tethers. Or make up a new one!

In her words: Time to be souled to your favorite turt.

Special thanks to @adebauchedsloth for beta reading this monster and to everyone who helped me brainstorm ideas. I appreciate you all so much!

In my version, it is a red string of fate, and I have put my own twist on it. Our TOC is Donnie this time, he's the one my muses decided to stick to and there's no arguing with the muses. Our Reader is female, no use of y/n, and I tried to portray her so that most people could picture themselves as her.

Summary: Bound by strings of fate, humans have quietly accepted this as a normal part of life, something to look forward to, but for a certain bale of turtles, such a thing appears to be entirely unattainable. Especially Donnie, who has merely accepted that his fate will be one of solitude... until he sees something appear on his wrist. Something that shouldn't be there.

Warnings: Contains smut, all characters are aged up, 30+years old. 18+ minors DNI. Acts include oral, female receiving, penetrative (p in v) sex and descriptions of Donnie's different turtley anatomy. Also warning for minor SA to our reader including using a knife to threaten her.

If you enjoy my work please consider leaving a like, or comment or reblogging, thank you!

In this world of modern living, where everything has changed so quickly and people rely on science-based explanations for life’s mysteries, one unexplained phenomenon remained constant: that all people were connected, bound by shining strings of fate that would suddenly appear on their wrists, leading them to the one they were meant to be with. It was a mystery that had long confounded science, yet no one could deny its existence.

It was not a perfect process no, rarely anything in life was. The string had the danger of being cut or torn away as a direct result of your life choices. Fate was merely a guiding hand; humans maintained their full autonomy in all matters of their existence, as they always have. Mistress Fate had standards and intervened only when absolutely necessary.

A mass murderer, for instance, would lose their fate string as punishment for crimes against humanity. The same would be true for anyone with true evil in their hearts. Most people lived by the unspoken agreement that a life well-lived would be rewarded. The fate string was akin to a legend, whispered among the people but never truly spoken aloud.

Some people waited their entire lives for a string to show up, while others had theirs as long as they could remember. There were individuals who crossed oceans and traversed their entire country for the chance to meet their soulmate, and those who thought otherwise. Whether it be from fear or an unwillingness to uproot themselves from their current lives, some never acted on that chance to find true love. Change could be a frightening thing, after all, and settling into familiar patterns was sometimes easier than facing the unknown. Most, however, ran headfirst into the proverbial ocean of chance, eager to follow their string at whatever the cost.

For a certain bale of mutant turtles, however, their existence in the game was not foretold. They were an anomaly, a perfect example of what one could only describe as a ‘happy accident’.

They were neither human nor animal; it made sense that none had received their fate strings and likely never would. As the brothers approached their thirtieth year, the cold, hard truth would further cement itself in their subconscious.

Mikey had taken it the hardest. Initially, he’d loved the idea that someone, somewhere, might be waiting for him, but with each passing year, the hope he’d been clinging to had steadily dimmed. He’d been so sure that by the time he hit thirty, his string would appear. On the morning of his thirtieth birthday, he’d quietly emerged from his room to explain to his brothers that he hadn’t felt up to celebrating that day.

The cruel mistress of Fate herself had seemingly decided that he and his brothers would be exempt from this whole soulmate business.

Leo had remained nonplussed; after all, he was motivated by duty, honour-bound to protect the city, and accepting his lot in life for what it was. It gave him purpose, stepping up when needed, especially when their father had fallen ill. The old rat had grown frail and weak in an alarmingly short amount of time.

Before he passed, he’d called his sons to him to impart one last piece of advice.

Do not lose hope, my sons. My story has come to an end, but yours are just beginning. Think not of what fate has denied you; instead, you must focus on what she can give. She may yet surprise you.

It was a difficult time; their father was cremated, and his ashes were released during a pilgrimage to the place of his birth—Japan. The Brothers had all gone to pay their respects in the land where cherry blossoms were plentiful and the air was as fresh and sweet as the petals that gently danced in the breeze.

Mikey had at least perked up a little in the months following his death and had even begun to reclaim some of the hope he’d lost. He’d taken to serenading his brothers with a carefully curated playlist of uplifting songs—ones that emphasised leaving love up to chance. Although it drove his brothers nuts, they never stopped him. There was a silent, collective agreement to let Mikey be Mikey. They saw little purpose in trying to ground him in reality, and by allowing him to retain this spark, they paved the way for his smiles and positivity to return.

Raph knew better, though. He’d fully accepted the fact that no stupid string of fate was going to show up on his wrist. They weren’t human, so why would it? Better not to hope for something so pointless.

Donnie viewed this phenomenon through an analytical lens of common sense. By all accounts, it made little sense for him and his brothers to be included in this.

Living underground, hiding, burrowed beneath an unforgiving city where there was no such thing as true love. He could be content with that; after all, he and his brothers weren’t made for this world- why would this be any different?

So sure that the string of fate would be an impossibility, the day it did show up, he thought he was hallucinating.

“I’m not supposed to have this.”

*****

Your string of fate was a conundrum, pointing in confusing directions ever since it had appeared five years ago, red, shining, and pulsing with life, occasionally carrying the hint of an emotion. Though it was distant and did not affect your daily life, you could sense how the other person was feeling. Sadness, anger, and happiness seemed to be the most prevalent, a sure sign that you were connected to this person, but it was the direction that confused you.

No matter where you’d gone in the city, your string stubbornly refused to move, always pointing down and, on some occasions, pointing straight up as though your soulmate possessed a pair of wings.

“He’s not human,” you’d muttered the last time your string had changed direction, pointing at an unnatural angle. Impossible to follow. You had to assume this was why they’d never looked for you.

This was just one of the reasons why you hadn’t tried to seek out whoever or whatever lay on the other side of that string either. Not only were you in a committed relationship, but you also lacked the courage to take part in such an endeavour.

Your partner had not received his string and had been content in believing that you hadn’t received yours either. You hadn’t told him; instead, you’d bought into the notion that many had fallen into that hadn’t received their string or chose to ignore it. Abject contentment. Settling. Acceptance for a life that was good enough but not fulfilling in the way having a soulmate would bring.

Taking into account that the recipient of your string seemed superhuman, you also couldn’t bear the thought of hurting your partner. He wasn’t a bad person; he treated you kindly, was supportive as a long-term partner should be, and seemed happy with you. This was why you were sure your relationship would stand the test of time, and yet, sometimes, in quiet moments when he hadn’t noticed you yet, you saw otherwise: his vacant gaze staring out into the city, a subtle glance at his wrist, and a quiet sigh of longing. A distant hope that someday his fate string would show up.

You really shouldn’t have been surprised by how quickly he’d left you the moment it showed up. Within twenty-four hours of its appearance, he’d packed his things, quit his job, and thrown away all five years you’d spent together with nothing more than a hastily applied kiss and a poorly worded goodbye. He was gone, and you were alone.

It took you a full five minutes to stop staring at the door, still in a good amount of shock from the recent course of events. So surprised, you were unable to even cry for a minute, a few angry tears slipping down your cheeks as you glanced out at the equally tumultuous sky, distant thunder rumbling as a precursor to an oncoming storm.

With your lip trembling, you wiped your cheeks, wondering why you’d been so naïve to think he’d stay. Of course, the string of fate would usurp anything the two of you had built together.

You were nothing compared to a soulmate, you thought bitterly, bound to be alone eventually. Yours couldn’t even be bothered to come find you, after all.

As lightning flashed, cracking across the distant clouds, the string on your wrist pulsed, a gentle reminder that you weren’t alone. It remained steadfast and true, flashing with life, pointing out into the city. That’s right, you’d almost forgotten.

If you were honest with yourself, you did want it. For a long time, you’d felt a deep ache, an emptiness that had nothing to do with your recent breakup. A sense that you’d never truly be whole as long as you refused to follow the path. Your soulmate was out there, somewhere, and maybe this was the push you needed.

Suddenly, your apartment felt too small, too suffocating to stay in, sad and dark with the absence of warmth and comfort that it used to have when your partner was there.

Fuck it. You had nothing to lose, and if they weren’t going to find you, then you swiftly made the decision to find them, no matter where the stupid string was pointing.

After making sure you were properly dressed and packing a small bag with a change of clothes for yourself, you left. The storm was closer now, rumbling in warning, but you were determined; this time, you were going to be brave.

*****

Over the past five years since his string had appeared, Donnie had somewhat obsessively thrown himself into researching the phenomenon of fate and was no closer to explaining how or why it existed. There was no scientific basis for what could safely be described as a series of small miracles, and Donnie didn’t believe in miracles.

He took stock of what could be recorded and measured, something he could apply the scientific method to in order to make sense of it. This string did not conform to any of it. He was inclined to ignore it, to refuse to acknowledge its existence because he could not explain it. This proved to be extremely difficult, and worst of all, he could feel their moods transferred through the damn string like a telephone wire.

Generally, the string remained neutral, but on occasion, the warmth of happiness and contentment would bleed through, calming him instantly and making him want to pause and bask in the feeling. However, when he felt anger or sadness, he fought the urge to toss his insecurities aside, find whatever was creating those feelings, and get rid of it. Ignoring the string at moments like this left him unsettled and restless until the feeling passed.

With a stark realization, it was easy to deduce that if he could feel their emotions, they could feel his as well. From that moment on, he did his best to stay as neutral as possible.

He never told his brothers. He’d seen Mikey’s despair and didn’t want to spark jealousy or worse: hope for something that might never happen for Mikey. Leo and Raph didn’t need to know either; no point in stirring up something that was unnecessary to discuss.

When he could no longer find ways to explain how or why he had it, he recorded what he could, documenting the pattern of the string, taut and pointing straight up, revealing this individual’s daily walks through life.

The pattern would repeat on weekdays, likely outlining the commute to work and back home. On weekends, it varied, but whoever this person was, they mostly stayed close to home. He could recall one time when the string stretched diagonally across the city and beyond, a sure sign they’d travelled far.

His hesitation to follow the string stemmed largely from a deeply rooted fear of rejection. The thought that they might take one look at him and refuse to believe their mate was a giant, freakishly tall mutant turtle haunted him. He also hated the idea of disturbing whoever it was. Statistics suggested they were likely in an established relationship with someone else, and tearing them away from that made him feel physically ill.

No, he had to think about it and consider all the variables before he went ahead and found this person. Unfortunately, pondering this notion had turned into nearly a year and a half of doing absolutely nothing.

Perhaps it was pure curiosity or his constant thirst for knowledge that drove him to finally take a chance. Regardless, he’d still needed to build himself up to go above-ground for that search to commence.

His intent had been innocent enough, just a glance to see who lay on the other side of this pesky string on his wrist. He’d followed it to a modest apartment building not too far from his own home. There, he kept his distance, set his goggles to binocular mode, and could easily see straight into the apartment window. It was a decision he regretted immediately, for what he saw only confirmed the fears he’d been grappling with for months. There was his mate, beautiful and shining like the sun…in the arms of another, laughing and smiling. She looked…happy.

So, his intuition had been correct, and for once, he was cursing himself for always searching for answers and poking his nose into things he should’ve damn well left alone. The price of knowledge in this case was a sobering reminder that he was always meant to be alone.

He saw no good reason to pursue the matter any further. After all, he’d thought bitterly, why would she choose to be with him when she could be with someone normal?

What he didn’t see upon leaving, however, was you quickly turning to look out of that very window, your expression sad and contemplative, for that was the closest your mysterious partner had ever gotten and you could feel everything, especially the turmoil of thoughts that had to be present, leaving you unsettled and wondering what just happened.

From that moment on, Donnie had decided to bury himself in his work. He was so set on forgetting and moving forward that he refused to look up anything pertaining to the woman he’d seen. He could have very easily hacked into the apartment building manifest to see its occupants, but even just knowing her name would only add to his suffering. Better just to drop the idea completely and move forward with his life.

His resolve had stayed strong for a whole five years since his string had appeared, until the night he felt it pulse violently, shocking him out of whatever task he’d been absorbed in. Something was wrong: ever since this stubborn string had appeared, he’d felt many things, but never real fear.

Donnie stood so abruptly that his well-worn office chair shot back against his workbench, loud enough to alert his brothers.

Before they could emerge to question him, he had already gone.

*****

You’d been on the streets for nearly an hour, steadily following the path. Still pointing down, the string acted like a compass, leading you exactly where you needed to be. You’d never realized it before, but it was almost as if it needed to know you’d finally decided to embrace what was essentially your destiny.

Instinctively, you knew exactly where to turn, walking with purpose towards your intended goal. If only the weather conditions were more ideal. Rain slaked down around you, darkness blanketing the city as the sun had set over an hour ago, but at the very least, the thunder and lightning had ceased. Weather aside, you expected this to be difficult. The danger was very real for those who decided to attempt their long journey in the dark of the night.

However, with great risk came great reward they said, and it was moments like this that tested your faith and how brave you could be.

Your string was now pointing down an alleyway, and while you were so absorbed in your search, you nearly ran into a questionable group of individuals blocking the entrance.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I was just—” you stammered, but they’d seen what you were doing and knew exactly where you were headed. Then a large hand clamped down on your shoulder.

“Oh, we know exactly who you’re planning to see, sweet thing. Too bad you’ll never get the chance to meet him.”

String-Rippers, you suspected, the cold rush of fear invading your senses and causing you to panic. Those who had either lost their strings or never received them. Bitter people with darkness in their hearts and vengeance on their minds. This self-proclaimed group aimed to find people in the process of searching for their person and to prevent them from ever meeting them in the worst possible way. Scorned by the Goddess of Fate herself, these people were full of rage and predatory intent.

“Don’t worry, we’re not gonna kill you…yet, we’re just gonna take a little taste of what you have to offer.”

“Then, we’ll kill you,” the other one chimed in with a tone that sounded much too pleased for your liking.

No, no, no, no, no! Your heart leaped into your throat as they dragged you further into the alley. With three of them and one of you, there was little chance you’d get out of this unscathed. The only course of action you could hope to take was to look at that damn string on your wrist and try to send a message, because whoever was on the other end would never hurt you. You somehow knew this.

If you’re listening, if you’re there, help me, please!

Donnie had never run so fast in his life. He’d gotten the message. The pulsing of the string on his wrist grew stronger, more urgent, as a fresh wave of fear poured through him. He could feel it more intensely the closer he got.

Finally reaching the ladder and manhole cover that he’d need, his string was pointing straight up, pulsating rapidly. His mate was right above him; he was almost there.

That’s when he heard her scream.

The three men had you cornered, crowding you with their imposing frames and leering stares. One of them pulled a switchblade from his pocket, the blade glinting menacingly in the harsh electric light. The one closest to you began ripping at your clothing while you fought hard to stop him, even though you were outnumbered. You scratched, kicked, and even tried to bite if the opportunity presented itself. You were not going to make this easy for them; you’d rather die than let him violate you like this.

Finally, growing impatient with your unruly display, the one with the switchblade growled in frustration and slashed the knife across your cheek. By a timely movement of your head, the sharp edge of the knife did less damage than your assailant had intended, but the sudden sting of the graze caused you to freeze.

“Bitch, that’s enough!”

Warm liquid began to ooze slowly from the wound as you stood, quivering with fear.

Satisfied that he’d secured your compliance, he motioned to the other two to finish what he’d started.

They began to pull at your jeans, trying to shove them down your hips. They were almost successful, having gotten the zipper down and just about to proceed when an absolutely menacing growl emanated from the shadows far back in the alley, causing them to pause.

It was him!

“Step. Away. From. Her.” He spoke, intent on sounding as threatening as possible.

The supposed leader sneers, motioning to his lackeys to draw hidden weapons in preparation for an impending fight.

“Who the fuck are you? Trying to be a hero?” he scoffed.

Donnie menacingly stepped out of the shadows to reveal himself, his next words delivered with deadly conviction. “For her, yes. For you, your worst nightmare.”

The three men did appear taken aback by the appearance of this tall, nonhuman, turtle…man? They even looked slightly intimidated for a moment.

For you, it was as if the air had been sucked from your lungs as you stared. The string on your wrist pulsed wildly, pointing to him. The string on his wrist was doing the same, only towards you. Nothing had prepared you for how it would feel to finally reach this moment. To feel such relief and elation, and the immediate need to go to him. Everything clicked into place: why you could never make sense of where your string led and why he never ventured out to find you. He probably thought you’d never accept him, but to actually see him? He was truly a magnificent sight to behold. Even the rain had decided to let up at that moment, allowing you to see him clearly.

He was about to kick some serious ass on your behalf.

The tall turtleman seemed to be wielding a long wooden staff with some kind of tech modification at the end that crackled with electricity.

All at once, your captors released you and rushed at him. You quickly took the opportunity to adjust your clothing and pressed the sleeve of your hoodie against the cut on your cheek, wincing in pain but hoping the added pressure would help slow the bleeding. For a moment, you worried you might need stitches, but the battle unfolding before you had drawn your full attention.

You watched the turtleman move with practiced grace and athleticism, perfectly dodging their attacks while delivering incapacitating blows laced with electric shocks. Those three men didn’t stand a chance against him. Within what seemed like seconds, all were unconscious, and you were left staring in wonder as he retracted the weapon into itself and tucked it into his belt.

He approached you carefully, stepping toward you, almost as if you were a wounded animal that might bolt at any moment from fear, but you weren’t afraid.

Instead, you felt a deep sense of peace, coupled with soaring hope and acceptance. He looked extremely nervous, licking his lip and drawing a shaky breath. Funny, really, that this encounter was more anxiety-inducing than taking down three armed men.

He cleared his throat, his tongue poking out nervously as he spoke. “A-are…you okay? Don’t be afraid…I’m…your…I’m Donatello.” You saw his tongue dart out again as he continued, regret showing on his face. “I…understand you’ve been waiting a long time for me.”

“Yes…” You whispered, telling him your name. “You’re not the only one to blame…I hadn’t exactly been trying to find you either. I just decided it was time.” You let out a rueful laugh, still holding your cheek. “I picked a bad time to start looking, apparently.”

With the lighting of the alley being dim at best, it was difficult to make out his facial features, but he wore a thick pair of tortoise-shell glasses and a band of purple fabric over his eyes. He was shirtless, aside from a pair of suspenders holding up tan cargo pants and large, heavy-looking leather combat boots on his feet. There were wraps around both forearms, and a tech device rested on his right. His weapon had been slipped into a belt that wrapped snugly around his shell and across his chest, and he had a backpack as well. He was so tall.

Donatello took you in as well, immediately zeroing in on your covered cheek and the presence of blood staining the sleeve of your hoodie.

“Are you hurt?” At your nod, he suddenly looked very concerned and slowly reached for you, “May I take a look?”

Gingerly, you lowered your hand, wincing at the sensation of peeling the fabric away from the slightly oozing wound on your face. “One of them cut me when I was fighting them.”

For a moment, he looked upset, a brief flash of anger in his eyes as he drew a controlled breath and released it. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner. Let me. I can take care of that.”

“It’s…it’s okay. It’s my fault for walking late at night, and—”

He cut you off with a shake of his head, while bringing his large hand to carefully cradle your cheek so he could see. “No, it’s not. I should’ve—”

The moment his hand made contact with your skin, you both gasped. His touch was like fire, the kind that burns with passion, and your fate strings glowed hotly, pulsing once and then disappearing. It was as though the act of touching each other was the catalyst that finally made the strings retreat, still present but no longer visible.

“Whoa…” Donnie breathed, keeping his hand there with an expression of pure reverence. “It really is you…”

You had tears in your eyes as you choked out an answer. “Yes…finally…”

He stroked your uninjured cheek with deep affection, looking you in the eyes with a softness reserved only for you. “Why did I wait so long when I could’ve had you years ago?” he knew why, but still felt this deep-seated regret from not even entertaining the notion of what could have been.

You blinked back a few tears, wincing as they made contact with the torn flesh on your cheek. “We’re both idiots.” You laughed haltingly, wiping your eyes with your other sleeve.

The slight pain in your expression had him reluctantly take his hand away and swing his backpack off so he could rifle through it. Pulling out a small white box, he guided you to sit on an old wooden crate while he knelt in front of you. He cleaned your cut and secured it with butterfly bandages, his long fingers gentle and precise as he cupped your chin again, angling your head gently to survey his work.

“There…luckily it wasn’t too deep. I have some cream back at the lair that should keep it from scarring; we just have to—” he stopped, realizing you had no idea what he was rambling on about.

It was easy to forget that the two of you had just met and knew next to nothing about each other. “Where is the lair? What is the lair? Your home?” you asked, three questions in quick succession, then stopped him before he could answer. “Wait, it’s underground, isn’t it?”

“Yes…but if you’re not ready, we don’t have to go down there. I…honestly don’t know how all of this is supposed to work,” he said, chuckling softly.

Considering your options, you’d rather not return to your lonely apartment that still held memories of your recent ex, and his ‘lair’ did fill you a sense of intrigue.

“I’ll go,” you said calmly, watching Donatello look surprised by your choice. “I need to see why my string was always pointing down to the ground.”

“Okay,” he answered, relieved. “It’s not far from here; we will need to go down into the sewers, so I apologize in advance for the smell. I’ve installed a state-of-the-art air filtration system, so everything will smell a whole lot better once we get there.”

With that, he moved to a heavy manhole cover you had just noticed was left ajar. Donatello lifted it as if it weighed nothing, gesturing for you to come over.

“So,” he began, “climb down first and I’ll follow after you; just wait for me at the bottom.

Nodding, you moved to the ladder, accepting his help as his large hand took yours and held on until you’d disappeared below the ground. When you were halfway down, you heard him slip the cover back into place, climbing down after you.

It was almost pitch black when your feet finally touched the ground, and you felt a shiver of fear in the unfamiliar territory. There were a few yellow electric lights in the distance, but none where you stood.

“It’s alright.” His quiet voice sounded as he climbed the rest of the way down. “Nothing to fear, I’ll guide you there safely.”

His assurance was calming, and you turned to him once you heard his boots touch down on the smooth bricked floor. It was then that you realized you’d never thanked him for saving you, and you quickly said, “Thanks, Donatello.”

“Oh, please call me Donnie, or Don if you prefer, Leo is the only one who uses my full name when he’s in lecture mode…Mikey does sometimes too when he’s being annoying...” he rambled, forging on ahead with you following next to him.

“Leo?” you questioned, causing him to slow down while turning to look at you again.

“Oh, right, you don’t know, um, Leo and Mikey are my brothers. I live with them.”

“Oh…” You were not expecting brothers. Surprised at this turn of events, you hadn’t thought there might be others like him. “Just the three of you?”

“Four, actually,” he corrected, gently. “I also have a brother called Raphael, or Raph.” He drew out a soft breath as he paused a moment. “They’re…going to be really surprised to see you.”

“Do none of them have…” The term you were searching for hung in the air as you grasped for it from your scrambled mind. “Partners? Mates?”

“No… as far as I’m aware, I’m the only one who managed to get a fate string,” he said quietly, continuing to lead. “And I didn’t tell them because… well, I wasn’t sure this was going to work out for me.”

His admission tugged at your heartstrings, and you found yourself reaching for his hand, brushing your fingertips against his unique, scaled skin. “I understand,” you whispered, hoping he’d accept your offer with your hand next to his.

Donnie gave you a brief but genuine smile as he took your hand in his, holding it tightly throughout your trek. It felt comforting and warm, the connection filling you with a sense of calm.

“Thank you,” he said. “Please don’t take their initial reactions personally; we don’t have much interaction with other humans, so they may be slow to trust…except Mikey, but he’ll be…”

He stopped, and you felt a flash of guilt through your connection. You decided not to pry, confident everything would be explained once he brought you into his home.

“I’m looking forward to meeting them,” you replied, trying to sound reassuring.

Donnie seemed satisfied with that and continued guiding you through the damp, dimly lit tunnels beneath the city. True to his word, the rest of the journey was uneventful, with nothing jumping out to scare you. The smell wasn’t that bad; it was mostly wet and earthy, with a hint of something oily or industrial.

Upon arrival, it looked like every other tunnel you’d been through, nothing to suggest a lair was present. Donnie explained that their entrance was hidden for their safety and revealed a hidden panel in the wall. A code was punched in, and you jumped back slightly as the wall itself opened right in front of you.

“Welcome,” he said, leading you in and closing the entrance behind you.

All you could do was stare, wide-eyed, at his home. It was incredible, larger than you had thought it would be, with all the common areas of a home: kitchen, living room, bedrooms, and other rooms you could not yet see.

There was little time to appreciate it, as the brothers he’d told you about almost immediately decided to make themselves known.

“Don,” a sharp but cool voice said. “Where did you rush off to in such a…” His slightly shorter brother, wearing a blue mask, entered the room and fell silent at the sight of you. His deep blue gaze hardened for a moment before he addressed his brother again. “Who is this?”

Before he could answer, another turtleman walked in from a different direction. His body bulged with muscle, and he wore an expression of both confusion and distrust, along with a mask of red. You shivered slightly in his presence; he oozed intimidation, and you felt Donnie take your hand again.

“Who’s she?” he asked in a low voice.

Now a little flustered, Donnie tried to speak again when the third brother bounced into the room. He seemed much friendlier, positively vibrating with energy. “Yoooo, who’s this? Didja rescue a new friend, D?”

Donnie let out a harsh breath, never releasing your hand, and finally able to address his brothers. “She’s my…soulmate,” he said, holding up your clasped hands, where the invisible string of fate still connected you both.

All three showed varying degrees of shock at the sudden news. Leo was the first to recover, nodding to Donnie and you, then approaching you both and extending his hand in greeting. He didn’t question it; instead, he chose acceptance, knowing Donnie would never make such a claim unless he was absolutely sure. “Welcome to our home.”

You took his hand while letting go of Donnie’s, told him your name, and confirmed what Donnie had just said. His brother introduced himself as Leo or Leonardo and said either was fine to use.

The Red one approached next, but he didn’t bother to shake your hand; instead, he introduced himself as Raph and quietly bid you welcome before disappearing.

The last one, ‘Mikey,’ whom you identified by process of elimination, said nothing. Along with shock, his expression showed apparent betrayal and sadness. He left the room abruptly, turning towards his own bedroom and closing the door behind him.

Donnie winced, turning to you with an apologetic look. “Um, sorry about him. He just needs some time. It’s not you.” He took your hand again, leading you somewhere else to explain further.

It was a large room with an automatic sliding door he must’ve installed at some point. Inside, a large computer station and workbenches filled with tools and unfinished projects. Your soulmate liked to tinker, it seemed. The doors slid shut, and Donnie clicked a button to lock them, sealing you both away from his nosy brothers.

“Mikey was the one who believed in it the most. He was so sure he’d get a string and was crushed when he never got one,” Donnie explained.

This broke your heart. No wonder Mikey had left; it hurt to know you were indirectly the cause of this, and there was nothing you could do to fix it.

Still, you apologized. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s not your fault,” Donnie said, giving your hand a squeeze. “He’ll be alright. I’m sure he’ll be up bright and early, ready to apologize to you.”

You nodded, still feeling a bit guilty for inadvertently upsetting him. So many things were on your mind: your ex leaving, the thunderstorm, being attacked, meeting Donnie, and being in his home with his brothers. It was almost too much. Your brain felt like an old computer struggling to load Windows 95.

“Hey…” Donnie said, gently squeezing your hand again to pull you out of your thoughts. “Let’s just get you cleaned up. I’ll find something to eat and a place to sleep.”

“Okay.” You said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s start with that.”

Attached to the lab were Donnie’s bedroom and an attached bathroom, handy and convenient. He gave you some privacy to change and shower if you needed to. You were grateful to peel off your wet jacket and bloodstained sweatshirt, shower, and change into the dry clothes you’d packed. When you peeked out, you found Donnie sitting at his computer and noted the chair he sat in. It was made from skateboards and its unique curving design accommodated his large, curved shell.

He turned to look, smiling as you emerged fresh from the shower and looking a little more human.

“I got you something to eat if you’re hungry. I’m sorry I’m not much of a cook; that’s more Mikey’s area,” he said, showing you a plate with a sandwich and some chips.

You smiled a little shyly and replied, “That’s perfect, and I am hungry.”

There was a conveniently placed stool beside him for you to sit on. His thoughtfulness was appreciated as you began to eat quietly and observe what he was doing. It was no surprise that Donnie delighted in explaining his interests and the projects he was currently working on. You were astounded at how smart he was and got the complete lowdown on his origin story, how he and his brothers came to be, and what his life was like growing up as a mutant turtle.

It was almost regrettable to tell him you were tired, because you just wanted to hear him talk more. His voice was calming, a perfect blend of softness and a slightly nerdy lilt that was adorable.

Donnie moved to walk you to his room, intent on letting you have the bed and taking the cot in his lab just in case you weren’t ready to share a bed with him yet. At first, you took him up on the offer, slipping into bed and trying to let sleep take hold, but it felt wrong. With your connection holding strong, you couldn’t ignore that Donnie needed to be in that bed with you.

The lab was dark, with only the hum of his electronics breaking the silence, making it feel both calm and slightly eerie. You could faintly make out his dark silhouette on the cot, his shell facing out, and for a moment you nearly abandoned the idea of asking him to join you.

“Donnie?” you quietly called.

You heard him shift, turning over in the cot, making the springs squeak as he went to a sitting position. It was a movement that told you he hadn’t fallen asleep either.

“Everything okay?” he asked, standing and heading toward you.

His feet and torso were bare, and he’d traded his cargo pants for a pair of grey sweatpants.

You swallowed, gathering your courage. “I couldn’t sleep…I was wondering if we could…cuddle for a bit?”

He answered with a bit too much enthusiasm for his liking, but it made you smile. “Yeah! Yeah, I mean, of course we can… anything if it’ll help you sleep.” He stepped in behind you and gestured for you to get into bed first.

You did, slipping under the covers with your heart thumping in nervous excitement. Donnie entered behind you, shifting to lie on his side while inviting you to cuddle up against him.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly while moving his arm to slide around your middle.

“Yes…” You cuddled against him as the small spoon in this equation, feeling instantly calmer. He’d moved his arm up so you could lie on the pillow with his bicep above you. You tucked your head under his chin, and you felt him inhale the scent of your hair and tighten his grip on you slightly.

This felt right. He belonged right here, next to you with you in his arms. Sleep came easily after that, and you woke feeling infinitely better. Your cheek still throbbed slightly, but it was healing, and you felt comfortably warm and relaxed, still in his embrace.

Donnie still appeared to be asleep, except now both of his arms were wrapped around you, and his breath came in soft puffs against your hair. You were content to let him keep holding you until he finally woke, but the pressure in your bladder said otherwise. As carefully as you could, you tried to extricate yourself from his arms without waking him.

He snorted once, adorably, but otherwise stayed asleep, shifting so he was lying back on his shell. Quietly, you padded to the bathroom to relieve yourself and have a drink of water from the sink. Glancing up at the mirror, you noticed the cut on your cheek still looked a little angry, but you otherwise looked okay. You took a moment to smooth your hair and seriously considered brushing your teeth, just in case he was awake and… wait, what were you thinking? He barely knew you. There was little chance he’d want to kiss you yet, right?

Deciding to brush your teeth later, you returned to his quiet room and admired its simplicity for a moment. His bed was very large, no doubt to accommodate how ridiculously tall he was. There was a bookcase stacked with all kinds of books, including an encyclopedia set, books with older, worn spines bound in leather, and newer ones mostly on different sciences. He’d grouped them by author and type rather than strictly by author, just like a library would. The room was clean and minimalist; you surmised he was only in here to read or sleep, preferring to spend most of his time in his lab.

Donnie still appeared to be asleep when you approached the bed. Still half on his shell, he now had one long arm slung over his middle and the other curled around his head. The covers had been pushed down, leaving his entire chest exposed, and you could see that the waistband of his sweatpants hung lower than it had last night. You were immediately drawn to his exposed torso, including the front of his hips, and how the muscle dipped beneath the fabric in a very aesthetically pleasing V. Wait, there’s a term for those muscles. Your brain scrambled to find it as you were mesmerized by the perfection. It came to you a second later—the Adonis belt! Fitting, for he was quite possibly the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on.

His entire body was long and packed with lean muscles, honed by years of training. With a flash of shame, you averted your gaze, feeling the stirrings of arousal from just looking at him.

Wait, he was your mate, right? You needed to remind yourself that it was okay to look at him and admire his body. As you slowly drew your gaze back, starting with his impossibly long legs and moving up to his beautifully toned upper body, you jumped back with a squeak of surprise. His lovely hazel eyes were open, staring at you, and he looked highly amused.

“S-sorry!” you stammered, turning around immediately, your face aflame with embarrassment. Donnie chuckled deeply from behind you, saying your name and telling you to turn around.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s just… interesting to be the object of admiration, especially to someone as pretty as you.”

Oh, that was very smooth. You turned to see he was in a more reclined position, propped up by the many mismatched pillows on his bed for comfort.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, finding his glasses and slipping them on his face.

“I did, actually, really well.” Now that the embarrassment had faded, it felt awkward to stand there with him still in bed. You badly wanted to go back and be in his arms again. After just a taste of what being with him could offer, you were craving his closeness, and he seemed to be watching you with a curious expression, waiting to see what you’d do.

Slowly, you inched your way over to him while still making conversation. “Did you? Sleep well, that is.”

“Best sleep I’ve had in a long time,” he replied, trying to keep his tone light and neutral, though he was highly amused. When you got close enough, he reached for your hand and gently pulled you in.

Your knees hit the mattress first, and you scrambled to avoid landing completely on top of him. Donnie just laughed softly and tucked you against his side, throwing the covers over your bare legs and pressing his snoot against your hair again. You felt him inhale deeply, his large chest flexing as the plates expanded, then settling back down as he exhaled.

“You can cuddle with me any time you want,” he said, rubbing gentle circles into your arm.

As you settled in, calm on the surface, your mind was whirling; you had so many questions and were unsure if you’d have the nerve to ask them all.

Donnie made it easy, though, his calm energy flooding you through your connection and giving you the courage you needed.

“Donnie?” you asked and he hummed in response, prompting you to continue. “Do we just…jump right into the relationship? Should we just start all of that physical stuff too?”

His chest rumbled as he spoke. “I think… we just go with how we feel. We can do whatever we want, but if you’re asking what I think about it all, I’d like to date you, court you properly. Just because we’re ‘soulmates’ doesn’t mean we need to automatically be boyfriend/girlfriend.”

You felt infinitely calmer, something he noticed as he hugged you a little more tightly. “I won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” he finished. “So, please don’t worry about that.”

“I’m not uncomfortable. I feel very safe here.” You said, honest with your words.

Donnie was quiet for a moment, breathing calmly, his chest rising and falling beneath your head as he rubbed your bare shoulder. You were flooded with warmth when he pressed a soft kiss to your head.

“Good.” He shifted a little, inhaling again, “Mikey is cooking breakfast, but I’m finding it hard to leave the bed.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. Although you felt the pull to stay with him and cuddle a little longer, you felt the need to apologize to his brother and clear the air, if that was even possible.

“I should talk to your brother.” You moved to get up, feeling Donnie release you with a hint of reluctance.

“You don’t have to. I can speak with him.” Donnie had moved to stand behind you, his presence warm and solid, like a wall of comfort.

Damn, he was tall. You turned to look back at him and had to look up to meet his gaze. “I’d like to try. If it doesn’t go well, you can talk to him.”

“Alright.” His fingertips brushed against the small of your back. “I’ll hang back then.”

You nodded and picked out a few new items of clothing to wear before slipping into the bathroom. It felt a bit silly to get dressed in there instead of with Donnie, but baby steps, you supposed. Plus, you needed to brush your teeth and fix your hair.

Donnie was dressed in a familiar pair of khaki pants when you emerged, having gathered up your dirty clothing into a pile.

“Oh, I can do that.” You reached for the bloodstained clothing, embarrassed that he was seeing it, and figured it was beyond saving when he stopped you, gently placing his hand on yours.

“I got it. We’re quite adept at removing bloodstains from clothing.” He cleared his throat. “For…obvious reasons.”

“Alright, thank you.” You smiled gratefully because you really did like that hoodie. “Okay, I’ll…see you in there.”

“Be there in a minute,” he assured you, following behind you but turning down a different hallway to take care of the laundry while you found your way to the kitchen.

Donnie’s brother was indeed in there, softly humming to a Bob Marley song as he flipped pancakes in the pan with effortless ease. Though you were trying to enter quietly, he still turned to see who was entering his space. He was so surprised he yelped, and the pancake he was cooking launched into the air and landed with a plop right at your feet.

You both just stared for a moment with Mikey looking mortified and about to apologize, but then you snerked with laughter, unable to contain yourself at the hilarity of the situation. The floodgates were open as Mikey laughed too.

After laughing together for a few minutes, Mikey finally went to clean up the fallen pancake before tossing it out. He apologized before you could, looking earnest as he spoke. “Hey, listen…I’m really sorry about last night. I have no excuse. I was just…upset that Don didn’t tell us.” He left unsaid that he was also slightly jealous that it didn’t happen for him, but he was trying to be fair to you and to accept that none of that was your fault.

“Thank you, um, Mikey, right?” You told him your name and held out your hand. “Let’s start over.”

Mikey shook your hand happily, with a bit more strength and vigour than you’d expected. He was more than relieved to make things right. After all, you were important to his brother; therefore, according to him, you were already a member of the family. He told you as much, inviting you to sit at the breakfast nook while he served you pancakes that didn’t fall on the floor.

It had been a long time since you’d felt this kind of support and connection. You were the result of a non-string pairing; your parents were ‘happy’ but always lacking in affection, and both seemed committed to a tolerable marriage. Your upbringing was normal, and both of your parents loved you, but you could always tell they didn’t really like each other.

It would be later that you would discover a deep-seated resentment between your parents. For nearly the entirety of their marriage, your mother had ignored her string for the sake of the family. She’d never thought to look until you were grown, and by then it was too late. It had been a long time since you’d spoken to either of your parents.

Mikey had reminded you how family is supposed to feel.

He handed you a glass of orange juice and served two fluffy pancakes with syrup, fresh strawberries, and whipped cream. Everything tasted delicious. Mikey was quite a good cook and regaled you with tales of their ‘adventures’ from when they were younger. It was like dinner and a show.

Eventually, his two brothers, the ones you’d met briefly last night, joined you in the kitchen. Raph went straight for the coffee pot, making himself a cup with a generous splash of cream and sugar before dropping into a seat. Leo seemed mildly relieved that Mikey was back to his usual animated self and getting along with the new arrival. He made himself a fragrant pot of tea and offered you a cup. Since hot coffee wasn’t your thing, you gladly accepted, sipping it carefully.

When Don finally entered, he was freshly showered and wearing a different pair of pants, a pair of relaxed jeans with suspenders and purple socks on his feet. His expression brightened the moment he saw you, and you felt a small flip of excitement in your lower belly when he sat down beside you.

Mikey served breakfast to all his brothers, apologizing to Donnie and telling him everything was ‘cool’ between him and you now. Your mate was glad to hear it, enthusiastically digging into his huge stack of pancakes with plenty of syrup, strawberries and whipped cream. The man had a serious sweet tooth.

All of them ate a lot, one of the many things you were discovering about them, and afterwards they gave you a tour of their home. The lair was much bigger than you realized, with a full gym, a dojo, and a garage to house their vehicles. They also spoke a little about their deceased father and brought you to his old room, where a small shrine had been set up in his memory. It was a lot to take in.

Later, you’d gone to take a nap, still weary from the previous night’s events, and slept for a little over an hour. You returned to find the brothers sitting around the table, deep in discussion about you. Instead of making yourself known, you hung back a little to listen, the nosy, anxious part of you curious to hear what they were saying.

“Well, obviously, she needs to stay here. You can’t guarantee her safety if she continues to live above ground,” Leo’s voice cut in.

Don spoke next, his voice a bit sharper than he meant. “I’m not going to take away her freedom, Leo. I can outfit her apartment with a security system, and she can split her time between here and there if she chooses.”

“That sounds… reasonable,” Leo said with a resigned sigh. “I just worry about the ones who attacked her. If they tried once, they’ll try again.”

A cold shiver ran through your body at the thought of meeting them again. Leo had a point, but so did Donnie. You weren’t sure whether you were ready to leave everything behind and move. You still had a job you enjoyed, too.

“She’s family now,” Mikey piped up. “We just gotta make her feel more welcome, and then she’ll wanna stay!”

Raph scoffed. “Oh, like it’s that easy, numbnuts. As if stayin’ down here is more appealing than livin’ up there with actual people.”

“Regardless,” said Donnie again. “It’s her choice, and I’ll know where she is and how she’s feeling through our connection. For instance, she’s been right there this entire time.” He gestured to the space just outside the kitchen and called for you. “You can join us; this discussion requires your input.”

Your cheeks were pink as you emerged, ashamed of being caught eavesdropping on their conversation. “Sorry…”

They all shrugged, no judgement from any of them. You were invited to sit next to Donnie and take part, although you still needed a minute to compose yourself.

“I…” you began, trying to sort your thoughts before taking a breath. “I would like to split my time between my apartment and here for now, until… things progress a little more.” Donnie’s hand found yours under the table, and he squeezed it gently.

“That’s fine,” he said kindly. “I’ll get started on that security system right away.”

Leo’s expression was neutral, his lips a thin line until he spoke, trying to inject some of his hard-earned leadership logic into the discussion. “May I suggest we lay down some… let’s call them safety protocols? For example, walking alone at night may call for an escort. You wouldn’t see us, but we’d ensure your safe arrival. It might also be prudent to begin teaching you self-defence, and you should carry at least a can of mace or a concealed weapon.”

Although the idea of using a weapon, even pepper spray, on someone seemed unnerving, Leo did have a point. In your last encounter, you would’ve done anything to get those men off you. You nodded in approval, turning your head to make eye contact with him. His stormy blue gaze softened, and some of the tension he’d been holding in his huge shoulders eased at your willingness to go along with his suggestions.

“Thank you. Mikey is correct; you’re now part of our family, and we will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety,” he finished.

Both Raph and Mikey nodded in agreement, with Mikey especially promising to keep the bad guys off your back. He exaggerated his claim with air punches and audible sound effects accompanying his moves until Raph flicked him in the head, telling him to knock it off.

Their openness and willingness to help and provide this kind of support made your heart clench as you struggled to contain the torrent of emotion threatening to spill over. Your mate squeezed your hand again, feeling everything through your connection and perhaps worried that you were upset.

You tried unsuccessfully to swallow the lump in your throat as you thanked them. It almost felt like you were building connections with them, despite the fact that Donnie was your soulmate.

“This is…more than I ever could’ve expected, and I’m…just so grateful.” You were trying not to cry and pathetically choking back a sob. “Jeez, I’m such a mess…”

Donnie seemed to know exactly what to do, leaning in to kiss your cheek as a tear slipped out, adding an acute saltiness to the taste of your skin. His brothers suddenly had other places to be than at that table, chairs scraping lightly on the concrete floor as they all left the room. Mikey tried to coo a sound of reverence, but Raph dragged him out without another word.

“You’re perfect,” he said softly, his expression warm and brimming with affection. Instead of having the desired effect of soothing you, it only made you cry more. Donnie looked concerned before scooping you into his arms and taking you back to his bedroom.

“Hey…it’s okay.” He whispered, sitting on the bed with you cradled in his arms. Of course, he fretted that the kiss was the reason for your upset and stammered out an apology.

“I’m sorry if I…if the kiss…”

“No…” You shook your head, sliding your arms around his neck and curling into him. “It’s just… everything is a lot right now, not in a bad way… just… a lot.”

“You’re not wrong, but I have a feeling this is more than what happened last night. Call it a hunch.”

Smarty pants, you thought, laughing softly. “You’re right. Before I began searching for you, my…partner left me.”

Donnie took a breath but otherwise stayed silent, waiting for you to continue.

“He and I had been together for five years; neither of us had found our partners. He hadn’t gotten his string, and I was afraid to look for you because my string made no sense…” There was a modicum of shame in admitting it, even though you knew he hadn’t tried to find you either. “I thought I could be content with him and he with me, but the second he got his string, he left…”

“I see…” Donnie sounded thoughtful, absentmindedly rubbing your arm. “It happened last night, didn’t it?”

“Yes…” you whispered, burying your face in his front. “That’s why I feel so guilty about everything… I feel… so many things right now.”

“Then, let’s just go through them one by one.” He didn’t sound like he was judging you for your decisions; he was coming from a place of understanding, hoping to learn more about you and the life you came from.

“I feel… stupid for being sad about him leaving now that I’ve found you. I feel… overwhelmed by everything that’s happened, from being attacked to finding you to meeting your brothers…I feel… emotional; my heart is so incredibly full at the prospect of developing a relationship with you, but it’s all slightly terrifying at the same time.” A sob caught in your throat as you finally said, “I feel… guilty… this is supposed to be something amazing and life-changing and wonderful, and it is, but then why am I crying, why am I feeling like this?”

Donnie’s response to all of this was to hold you closer, kiss your forehead, and draw a deep, steadying breath. “What you’re feeling is completely normal. This is a natural response to everything you’ve just been through. Any normal person would do exactly the same thing.”

His words brought comfort, easing much of your shame and anxiety as his calm energy flowed through your connection, yet one pesky thought still bothered you: “But…if my partner hadn’t left, what if I’d never gone to find you? What if we’d never met?”

He was quiet for a moment, still holding you close, before putting his thumb under your chin while you felt a rumbling in his chest.

“Look at me,” he said gently. When you did, and your glassy eyes met his magnified hazel ones, he continued. “If you hadn’t, I would’ve braved the storm eventually and found you myself. If anyone should be ashamed, it’s me for being a coward. I must confess, after a year and a half of having this string, my curiosity finally got the better of me and I did go up just to see what you looked like, at least, that was my intent.”

Shock was evident on your expression as you shuffled through memories of the last five years, able to pinpoint the day you’d felt his presence closer than ever before. “I remember that day.”

He nodded somberly. “Yes, and I saw you were with him, you looked…happy, content with your life, and I knew it wasn’t my place to disrupt that, so I left, tried to forget, but I never really could. My hesitance was multifaceted, complicated by overthinking and misplaced logic. As a mutant turtle, I couldn’t bear the thought of subjecting another to this life, a relationship that can’t be made public, where our dates are hidden in the shadows and you’d have to pretend on the surface that you hadn’t found me.” His expression of regret nearly broke your heart in two as you cupped his face in your hands.

“Please don’t be ashamed of that; based on your logic, we were bound to meet at some point.” You paused, then brushed your thumbs over his scaled skin. “I understand this isn’t going to be a conventional relationship, but my life before you was going nowhere. For the first time in my life, I feel alive.”

That feeling had ingrained itself in you from the moment he touched you. It was that awestruck, worlds-colliding, zing feeling that could only be described as being forever changed.

Donnie smiled as you took your hands away.

“I do too, and in case if you couldn’t tell, I’m a man of science, so it took a lot of convincing for me to even believe in this higher-power fate-string phenomenon. But now that you’re here, I believe. And you know what else?” He waited for you to shake your head no before replying. “I’m scared, too. There’s no rule book or list of peer-reviewed journals for me to research this subject. This is uncharted territory for me…” He paused and corrected himself. “For us.”

It brought you comfort to know that he was just as ‘green’—literally—on this subject as you were. Donnie seemed to possess a wonderful gift for helping you feel heard and for validating your feelings. You were quiet when he spoke again.

“Maybe you need a change of scenery. How about this: after dark, we get you packed up, and I take you back to your apartment so you have some time to think in your own space.”

You considered this, idly tracing the lines of his chest. On the one hand, you didn’t really want to go home and be reminded of your ex, but on the other, you did want to show Donnie your place. You also had a job to return to on Monday morning.

“Okay.” You felt him nod as his chest rose with each breath.

“Then, it’s a plan,” he said, holding you as long as you needed him to.

*****

Donnie ended up staying overnight at your place. You were relieved to see that your ex had returned to clear out the rest of his stuff, leaving his key and a small note wishing you well and thanking you for all the happy memories. The note also offered a sincere apology for how quickly he’d left, emphasized that this was for the best, and said he was sure that one day you too would find your own happiness. You were surprised to read that he’d known all along that you’d had a string, and bless his heart, he’d believed he’d been the one holding you back from looking. Now you no longer had to do it for his sake. You were free to look because surely someone was waiting for you.

Everything clicked into place: why he’d left so suddenly and seemingly without care. He had known all along that this was necessary to spur you into looking. His note made it clear that he wanted nothing but the best for you.

Not only was the note a welcome reminder that you didn’t waste the last five years with him, but it was also a source of closure, clearing the way for you to explore this new relationship with Donnie.

Full of relief and happiness, you’d been so overcome that you’d thrown your arms around his neck and pressed yourself close, initiating your first hug. Donnie had automatically put his arms around you, lifting you off your feet slightly because of his ridiculous height. In doing so, he’d brought your face right up to his, and that moment of eye contact seemed to knock the air straight from your lungs.

You really wanted to kiss him, and you didn’t need your connection to tell you that Donnie’s brain was also racing along the same train of thought. His pupils seemed to have shrunk as his breath came out shakily, his hands shifting with nervous intent. He was just like a teenager seconds away from his first kiss.

He’d already flicked his gaze down to your lips, but he appeared frozen with indecision, waiting for your consent before closing the distance between his mouth and yours. When you ever so slightly tilted your face toward his, that was all the confirmation he needed.

Your first kiss with Donnie was careful, tentative, a barely-there brush of his larger lips against yours before a more deliberate press that somehow ignited every neuron in your brain.

If you’d thought the first time he’d touched you was intense, you had no idea how intense everything else could be. Kissing Donnie was like jumping off the diving board at the deep end of the pool. You were simultaneously burning with a passion you’d never felt and drowning in him.

After a few minutes, Donnie pulled away with a deep intake of air, his eyes wider than you’d ever seen them, as if he were trying to form words but unable to make his brain cooperate.

It was that good.

You managed a breathless laugh. “Wow… now that’s a kiss…”

Donnie wheedled out a wheezy little laugh of his own, finally able to speak. “I…yeah…I really liked that.”

Instead of answering, you leaned in to kiss him softly before pulling away. “I could get used to it…”

Donnie held you for a long time after that, content to keep you close, slowly lowering you until your feet were firmly planted on the floor again.

A soft rumbling sound began emanating from the hard plates of his chest, sort of like purring? It was strangely calming, and when you looked up at him in question, he was happy to explain.

In layman’s terms, the sound was called churring, a turtley behavioural act, long left over from before he was mutated. Your mate had used more descriptive terms, of course, happy to ramble on about his extensive knowledge of his own biology.

It wasn’t long before you were deep in discussion about the mutation and how wonderfully different he was from human men. The one subject you didn’t broach was more personal, directly related to the reproductive aspects of a mutant turtle. Though you were curious, it was far too soon to have that conversation.

As the night wore on, you dozed off on his shoulder, and he made the unilateral decision to take you to bed. Though it was smaller than his, he still made do by spooning you from behind and holding you close as the two of you slowly drifted off to sleep.

*****

Unlike most new relationships, which often require a probationary period to settle in, yours and Donnie’s transition was smooth, effortless, and easy in a way you couldn’t begin to describe; it just…was.

The result of two people coming together, tethered by fate, you supposed, unwilling to question it further. You both texted; sometimes he called, sometimes you did. Your conversations ranged from daily check-ins to Donnie’s current projects to your frustrations about your day at work. Donnie would always send you a little meme or a nerdy quote, something to make you smile and let you know he was thinking of you.

True to his word, he was taking things slow with you, only going as far as kissing you and keeping his touch respectful, over your clothes and never below your waist. His actions might have been innocent, but you knew better; you could feel through your connection how much he wanted you, yet he wasn’t willing to act on those urges. Not yet; he was waiting for you to be ready.

Now, weeks into the relationship, you finally felt like you were, and Donnie had planned an actual date for the two of you that night, taking you out on the town to places you’d never dream of going. Being a tech-savvy mutant turtle had its advantages, including sneaking you into the Museum of Natural History and playing you a show in the astronomy section, filling the area with projected constellations on the ceiling and floor.

It was possibly the most romantic thing you’d ever experienced, and as he looked down at you with actual stars reflected in the lenses of his glasses, you pulled him down by his suspenders and kissed him as if your life depended on it.

The hunger was there; you could feel it in the way his hands gripped you tighter and in the slight growl under his breath when you slipped your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss slowly and with more passion than you’d ever felt for another person.

Things were escalating quickly as Donnie pulled back, silently asking if he could do more, the hazel in his eyes nearly gone as his pupils widened with lust.

You nodded, quickly asking him to take you back to your apartment because you didn’t want your first time with him to be anywhere but a bed. Again, Donnie had never moved so quickly in his life, but this time for a much better reason.

The heated, desperate kisses continued once the two of you were safely inside your apartment, the curtains drawn. Finally, Donnie ventured to touch you under your clothes, his fingers skimming the soft skin of your midsection as you used your hands to explore the unique textures of his skin and chest.

You shivered when he traced the underside of your breast and moaned into his mouth from the plunge of arousal suddenly pooling in your core.

Donnie pulled back after taking a sharp inhale through the slits in his snoot, muttering that he needed to stop for a second before things went any further.

The conversation about his reproductive aspects needed to happen now. He told you about his anatomy—more specifically, his cock—how large it was, how it…emerged from his body and paused before explaining how inhuman it looked. He was telling you all of this hoping that you didn’t back down from either nerves or…possibly disgust.

You didn’t care what his dick looked like; you’d spent too many years having mediocre and mostly vanilla sex, so you were more than ready for this.

Donnie spoke with barely contained shakiness as you gave him your consent to continue. “Okay… as long as you’re sure, if you decide at any time that you want to stop, then we can stop.”

“Okay, the same goes for you.” You gave him a slight smirk, fairly confident that you would see this through to the end.

With a snort, Donnie laughed softly and kissed you again, just quickly. “Fair, then, shall we convene in the bedroom? Is there anything you’d like to do to get ready first?”

A sudden, anxious thought about your personal hygiene came to mind, and you felt the need to quickly freshen up…just in case. “Actually…yes, give me five minutes. Wait in my room, okay?”

He nodded, grinning at you in amusement and went to do as you asked. He proceeded to take the time to undress, at least remove his gear and unbutton his shirt in what he hoped was a sexy, mysterious, cover-of-a-romance novel level of enticement for you.

In the bathroom, you’d used the toilet and then stripped off the clothing from your lower half to give yourself a quick wash downstairs. It wasn’t as if you’d assumed Donnie would even participate in the corresponding act anyway, but you were not willing to risk smelling anything less than fresh as a daisy for him should he decide to go that route.

Just a quick wash with soap on the outside, then hastily drying yourself with a towel before joining him.

Donatello, or should you say… Casanova, was lying on your bed in quite the provocative manner, somehow stretched across the whole thing. With his shirt open, he had both legs bent, one up, one down; he was on his side, his head propped in his palm, his elbow resting on the bed while his other arm rested on his upturned knee. It was sexy, but also a little…

You must have been staring for half a second too long before he broke the silence with “Too much?”

“N-no! It’s…you look good, I just wasn’t expecting…” You were fumbling hard, both from nerves and from an unwillingness to criticize his decision even a little. “I’m just gonna…stop talking…”

Donnie laughed, relaxing out of the pose as he crossed the distance between you and took your face in his hands, kissing you. “You didn’t have to say it. I could feel your sentiments exactly. I’m new at this. I wasn’t sure how to…wait.”

He really had this wonderful way of easing the tension by creating endearing situations that made you laugh. You stood on your toes to kiss him back. “I loved it. Very sexy.”

You giggled softly at the way he puffed up a little, showing his pride in making you feel more at ease with the situation. He bent his head again, drawing you in for a third kiss, rougher, hungrier, the kind that weakened your knees once again and had you fisting your hands in his shirt to hold on.

Donnie let his hands glide over your body, sliding down your back as he felt each notch of your spine until he found his way to your ass, squeezing it gently. Your sharp intake of breath made him smirk slightly, and he pressed a few kisses to the column of your neck while whispering.

“How many ways can I make you give me more of those sounds?”

The husk in his voice made you shiver, and you gripped his lapels to find an answer for him.

“Every way you know how.”

Things progressed quickly after that, with Donnie removing his glasses, carefully lowering you onto the bed, pressing hot kisses to every inch of your exposed skin as he slowly removed your top and surveyed your beauty. Soft, skin, delicate, round breasts with dusky-tipped nipples. He was in awe, admiring you while taking one of your breasts in his hand and giving it a squeeze.

Flicking his thumb over your nipple elicited a gasp from you, and after spending some time drawing more soft sounds from your lips with just his fingers. When he moved on to use his mouth, it made you cry out audibly, and he gave you a wicked grin. Where had the Donnie gone who was so careful, nervous and sweet? This one looked like he wanted to eat you alive, and he knew exactly how he wanted to do that.

While placing kiss after kiss on the smooth skin of your belly and scenting your arousal, he asked you with a desperate edge to his voice, “Can I taste you, please?”

You felt confident in giving him the go-ahead to do that. After all, you were clean and very ready for his mouth to go even lower.

Your pyjama bottoms and underwear were removed in quick succession, and he breathed shakily, licking his lips in anticipation of tasting you. When his tongue actually did lick a stripe up your center, he was in for a surprise, and you were blown away by how good it felt.

After another lick, Donnie lifted his head, his brow ridges knitted together in confusion and then understanding.

“What?” You were confused as well, wondering why he’d stopped and already spiralling a little as your brain tried to fill in the reason. Were you not as clean as you originally assumed? Did you miss a spot?

“Did you, um… clean yourself here? Using, ah, soap or something?” he rushed out the next part before you could answer. “N-not because you’re not tasting clean! In fact, you taste a little too clean… a little… soapy.”

The Lord Almighty could’ve struck you down then and there. Cause of death: embarrassment to the highest degree. You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “OhmyGod…I was just trying to…”

Now Donnie felt guilty for pointing it out and his mind spun to try to find a way to fix this and salvage the situation as much as he could. “Hey… hey… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… embarrass you; I know what you were trying to do.” He began to babble in his nervousness. “There are pre-existing social norms associating cleanliness with the act of cunnilingus, and that might be what the average man would’ve expected you to do as a requirement, likely refusing to do it unless you were showered and ready.” You’d peeked out from behind his hands as he kept going. “But as we know, I am not… average by any means, and nothing… is more intoxicating than your natural scent and the taste of your arousal.”

You relaxed a fraction as you finally took your hands away. “It was the only way I’d ever get my ex to go down on me.”

Donnie rubbed his large hands up and down your thighs as he leaned in close to you. “Then he was a fool…” He kissed you, then got up, disappearing into your bathroom for a wet cloth, which he brought back. “I appreciate what you were trying to do, but I’d much rather just taste…you.”

You gasped softly, shuddering slightly as he took the cloth, cleaning up any last remnants of soap and then slowly dragging his fingers from your hot center, bringing the wetness right from the source and circling it around your clit as your legs shook.

When he next placed his head between your thighs and gave another lick, he rumbled softly. “That’s more like it…” He was like a man starved after that, licking and sucking, thrusting his tongue inside of you while your legs tried to clamp around his head from how incredible his tongue felt, exploring every inch of your anatomy.

You emitted sounds you never knew you could make; his grip on your thighs was strong, but not uncomfortable, keeping you open while he gradually brought you to your first release of the evening. His tongue had been massaging your clit at just the right spot, bringing you higher and higher until you were deliriously begging him to let you cum.

“I’ll do anything to hear more of those pretty sounds, my darling,” he husked before going right back to what he was doing.

And then you were flying, brought to the height of your peak by your mate, drowning in one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

Donnie groaned, feeling you come apart at his touch, and you heard a sound that you couldn’t identify, a wet slide of something emerging, and you could see it tenting out from his trousers when he stood up to remove his shirt and unbuckle his belt.

Holy shit.

You were still breathless from your recent release as you propped yourself up to watch.

He gave you a shy smile and snorted softly as he noticed how intense your gaze was, completely focused on his…lower region.

“It’s…I know it can be a lot, but we can go as slow as you need.”

“I need to see it, Donnie.” You said, trying not to appear too eager to see what he was hiding under his well-pressed slacks.

“Alright, brace yourself.”

You could’ve laughed; the way he was acting made it seem like he was uncovering a hidden treasure of epic proportions. When he did finally drop his pants, you just stared, because you’d seen the size and shape of his manhood before… but not from him. From quite a different source, actually. Years ago, a very good friend of yours had sent you a link to a unique dildo of similar design that you'd purchased… and used… and loved, and now you were looking at basically its equivalent made of flesh and blood rather than silicone.

“It looks like a flower,” you blurted out, finally.

The head of his cock did flare out, similar to the petals of an orchid. The tip of him was a deep purple that travelled down the shaft—his quite lengthy shaft—fading into the green of his skin at the base. It was strangely beautiful, and you were very intrigued by what that would feel like.

“It—yes, it would look similar to that.” He laughed softly, unable to form a good argument against the comparison. “Not the worst way I’ve heard it described.”

You felt like laughing as well as you beckoned him over, both of you now completely undressed, and you needed to feel his body on yours.

Donnie was very happy to oblige you, carefully covering your smaller body with his larger one and cradling your chin with his tridactyl hand.

“So…I’ll take that as a yes, you wish to continue?”

“Yes…definitely, although I can’t promise you’ll be able to fit…all of that inside of me.” You tugged him in for a kiss. “I still want to try.”

“I can’t guarantee that either…I’ve done some fairly extensive research on the matter. I have a pretty good idea of how much the average woman can take, and I’ll be very gentle, I promise.”

He sounded so sincere you wanted to melt; you would’ve believed him no matter what, but it was really nice to hear. “I know you will, and I want this… I want you.”

Donnie, instead of answering you, was kissing you again, capturing your mouth in long, slow, sucking on your bottom lip and tangling his tongue with yours.

His hands were a different story, caressing, squeezing, fluttering over your skin, your breasts, the softer parts of your curves and finally, your thigh. He hiked it up, slowly grinding his length through your folds. The flared head of his cock was brushing over your clit, making you gasp. If possible, you had even more slick forming between your legs, and you wanted him desperately.

“Please…please, Donnie…I need to…I need…”

He was groaning softly, his control slowly being whittled away by your desperate plea.

“Yeah…? I’m gonna give it to you, darling…just…breathe…” He’d reached down to grip himself while speaking, gently aiming himself at your soaked entrance.

You exhaled sharply, clutching tightly at his shoulders suddenly upon the slow breach of his cock, digging your fingernails into his tough skin as he worked himself in inch by inch.

He needed to remind you gently to relax once again, as you hadn’t realized your entire body had gone rigid of its own accord.

“Just relax…I’m only a few inches in, I promise I won’t hurt you.” He waited for you to adjust, pressing soft, gentle kisses to your neck.

Drawing a somewhat shaky breath, you instantly felt better. Fueled by your link, Donnie was sending his calming energy directly to you, so you were not gripping his shoulders quite as hard and felt ready for him to continue.

He knew, feeling your body become even more open to him and pushed in those last few inches that your body was able to take. His expression was tight with pleasure as he hissed out a moan.

“S-so…tight…and wonderful…you’re wonderful…my…my love…” It was as though he was delirious with pleasure since he hadn’t confessed his feelings yet or used the word ‘love’.

You whimpered slightly, feeling so incredibly full for the first time in your adult life. It was indescribable; nothing felt as right as it did with him being inside you in that moment. Grabbing his face, where he still had his eyes screwed shut, you kissed him and tried to use your link to tell him how much you wanted him, needed him in more ways than just this, feelings you couldn’t quite find the right words for.

“I love you.” He whispered it against your lips like a reverent prayer, and you just kissed him harder; this sentiment you needed him to show you in more than just words.

“Show me your love, Donnie, I need you…”

Shifting his leg and taking hold of one of your thighs, Donnie finally began to move, a slow drag of his hips in an experimental thrust.

The air was knocked from your lungs as you gasped, tightening your grip on him briefly from that first movement alone. His eyes were blown wide open as they were fixed on yours, and you both needed more.

He began moving more, starting with a series of deep, slow thrusts, readying you for what came next.

It was so good, you were uttering curse words under your breath, urging him to go faster. Pleasure was building within your core and steadily growing with every second Donnie remained inside of you.

He was keeping his pace with soft grunts, watching you as your face contorted in pleasure, and below where your bodies were joined and seeing himself disappear and reappear from within your depths.

It was quite possibly the most erotic thing he’s ever seen, and hearing your breathless sounds of pleasure only made him want to redouble his efforts, losing a bit of control but still ensuring he doesn’t thrust too deep and hurt you.

You were already telling him to go harder, and crying out as he adjusted himself to better enhance your experience, somehow knowing that he needed to lift your hips and bend over you so that flared head of his cock would stimulate that sensitive patch of nerves within your channel. To say it bumped things up a notch was an understatement.

Your body was trembling now, legs shaking, chest heaving with quicker breaths, and the squeezing of your inner walls signalling your impending release.

“I…I’m close, Donnie!” Heat was bubbling up inside of you, painting your body in a new, flushed state of arousal as you scrabbled for his biceps, holding on tight as though you might fly away if you didn’t.

“Do it, fall apart for me, Love…” Donnie was close as well, trying to keep himself contained until you finished first, but his thrusts were becoming erratic, and with his hips snapping into you harder, he was finding it increasingly difficult to stay on track. “Mine…” The husk in his voice was almost like a growl and exactly what you needed to push you over the threshold, drowning in the most intense pleasure of your life.

Your cries had increased in pitch, and your body shook, muscles flexing and tensing as you rode your high as long as you could. In that moment, you were no longer in control of yourself; it was all heat, muscle spasms and ecstasy.

Donnie, without warning, suddenly pulled you as close to his chest as he could manage, giving you one final thrust, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix as he came, filling you with everything he had to give with a deep, guttural noise of relief.

Both of you were panting, breathing heavily as your collective heartbeats raced, almost in tandem; you could feel it even through the thick keratin of his plastron.

After what seemed like reluctance on his part, Donnie slowly removed himself and turned to his side with a soft groan while still making sure to sling at least one arm around your still-trembling body.

You were mourning the loss of him already. This could be a problem, you thought to yourself, amused.

“That…was…” you began, still mostly incoherent.

“I know…” He snort-chuckled softly, pressing his snoot into your neck and nuzzling your flushed skin. “I don’t have words for how incredible it was.”

Wiggling down a bit, you dislodged his teasing lips from your neck and captured them with yours instead. “I’ve never had an experience even come close to what I just had with you.”

Donnie held your kiss for a long moment before slowly pulling back. Without his glasses, it was slightly difficult to focus on you, and he looked adorably squinty-eyed, as if he needed to ask you something. “What I said earlier…telling you I loved you, I know it was in the heat of the moment, but…how do you feel about that?”

“I—I’m sorry I didn’t say it back.” You swallowed, suddenly feeling shy as you prepared to confess once again what you’d been feeling for far longer than you cared to admit. “I love you, Donnie. I wish I’d found you sooner.”

He looked humbled by your response, his expression giving you so much insight even before he spoke. You felt it through your connection as well. He’d loved you just as long, if not longer, possibly from the moment he touched your face.

“My love for you goes as far as the most distant galaxies, unending and eternal.” Perhaps his confession could be read as the ultimate in nerdy corniness, but to you, it was the most romantic words ever spoken. You curled into him, cuddling as close as you could while he wrapped his other arm around you, whispering more words of reverence and throwing the covers over you both.

Washing the sheets could wait; cuddle time and eventual sleep for you both was all that mattered.

*****

Your budding relationship had blossomed into something truly beautiful. Despite coming from two different worlds, you were both committed to making this relationship work. Even when separated by the many responsibilities of daily life, you never truly felt his absence. His energy was calm and unyielding, always expressed as a soft, yearning love that had settled comfortably in your heart. He appreciated your gentle energy, a constant and much-needed source of comfort and focus in his sometimes chaotic life.

Though the Mistress of Fate could at times show how fickle and fleeting life could be, your journey with your red string of fate seemed to be a test of patience, a proverbial ‘good things come to those who wait’ personified as a tall, lanky turtleman with cobbled-together glasses, a soft, shy smile, and more brains than brawn. A peaceable man who would rather tinker and research to his heart’s content than fight. Both you and he were working toward making that dream possible: a life without having to hide your love, and hope for others who had not yet found their life partners, because they might have been looking for love in all the wrong places. Sometimes you just need to look a bit…lower.

Now, the story is not quite over; Donnie still had three brothers whose strings had yet to appear, but rest assured, all did eventually make themselves known.

Mikey nearly shook down the entire lair with his scream of surprise the second his string appeared. It certainly caught the attention of his brothers, who had to stop him from immediately barrelling toward the recipient of that string. Leo insisted on a plan and some reconnaissance first, just in case. Again, he was being overly cautious, especially since Mikey had been waiting for this moment for years and he did not want his little brother to be disappointed in any way.

With Leo’s final approval, Mikey had been practically vibrating as he’d quickly followed his string to his future partner, nattering on about how wonderful, perfect, amazing and incredible—all the adjectives his ADHD brain could come up with to describe how he thought his partner would be—until he was stunned into silence, skidding to a halt on the rooftop and barely keeping himself from careening over the edge.

To their absolute surprise, she, the literal girl of his dreams, was already on her rooftop, waiting for him. She appeared nonplussed by his arrival and instead showed excitement, waving and beckoning him over. It was instantaneous on Mikey’s part, moving so fast you’d think he’d unlocked the ability to teleport to the adjacent building. It was a match made in heaven, for she was his angel in every sense of the word.

Raph was next to receive his string, and he likely wouldn’t have made a move or even told his brothers he had one until she found him. Raph’s future partner seemed to embody the same values as he, including a fearlessness that had surprised even him. The quiet, red grump had woken one morning to find his string pulsating for what could only be one reason. His mate was close, and in the sewers.

Their meeting was one of fire and passion, with him dumb enough to ask her what the heck she was thinking, going into the sewers to find him like that. She didn’t take his shit for even a second, challenging him instead and asking when and if he’d have had the balls to look for her. His being a turtleman hadn’t even registered with her as they were arguing one moment and kissing the next. Another perfect match, though he’d needed a bit of convincing.

Leonardo, Mr. Stick Up His Ass, uptight and stubborn in every sense of the word, needed his partner to be proficient in the anal stick removal business. Surprisingly, he did not take long to find her. Since his three brothers were already in long-term relationships, he saw no harm in seeking her out and…observing her. The first week of reconnaissance was spent learning her daily patterns and whether she already had a partner. He was taking no chances and, in true Leonardo fashion, trying to exert control over when and how they’d meet.

What he failed to realize throughout this one-sided mission of his was that this woman—his future partner—was already aware of his presence. Had he forgotten that their connection made this glaringly obvious? By the end of the second week, she’d had just about enough of this man, who apparently still lacked testicular fortitude, and decided to take matters into her own hands. When he next appeared, obviously shrouded from her view yet close enough for her to sense him, she’d deliberately stepped onto her balcony in her robe, posturing like royalty while daintily sipping her tea from a tumbler. To Leo’s chagrin, she’d projected her request into the night air, telling him to show himself and that she’d wait all night if she had to.

Finally deciding to reveal himself, he was stunned into silence as she asked if he was always this much of a gentleman. He was both impressed and humbled to learn that she’d been aware of him the entire time, yet she held no fear of him, merely noting that she now understood his need for secrecy. Somehow, she’d expected him to look different. He’d fallen hard for her, right then and there. Not only was she his soulmate, but she was also his equal, his other half, so to speak. After all, much like chess, a king is no use without the queen.

Four strings, four connections, and four lasting, meaningful relationships, carefully curated by the Mistress of Fate herself. To be blessed by her promise of happiness, one must embody trust and be content to give up control, though that may be difficult. You might just find yourself where you were always meant to be. In this case: in the arms of a large, mutated turtleman. Fate certainly works in mysterious ways.

The End

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