RiseDonnie x MReader: Moth Man

                                    

                                          

Request: Hi hope you've been having a good week and had a good valentines day yesterday, I've been binge reading your rottmnt fics and I would like to request rottmnt Donnie X male reader where the reader is also a mutant but the reader is a moth mutant so he's got fluff all over his body (cause moths have fluffy bodies), and Donnie can't help but have some curiosity about how soft the readers fluff is. anyway thats it you don't have to do it if you don't want to! hope you have a great day! ^^
A/N: Just want to say sorry this took so long and sorry the actual story isn't very long. I've had/got a very busy week and right now as of writing this, I'm very tired and I have 11 more asks to get through. But I hope you enjoy!
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Donnie had always been fascinated by you, your mutant abilities being the main thing. However, he couldn't help but wonder about other things, more...trivial things.
Did you hate the light as much as your smaller brethren? Did you bite holes into everything you could sink your teeth into? 
But the thing that Donnie would lay awake at night thinking about was the fur that covered your chest. With your condition, if you could even call it that, it was rather hard for you to hide the generous amount of fluff that resided on your chest. The natural elements of a moth weren't wasted on you once you mutated.
It wasn't like he antagonised over it, no, rather it was just an odd thought he had one night that never left his brain. He has stayed up copious amounts of nights researching all there was about moths, different species, different abilities, different colours, the list goes on.
But what pained him more was how little information there was on the fur, nothing saying if it was soft, why it was there, what purpose it served other than to look like a rich women's scarf.
Donnie took this on the bright side, not something he'd usually do, it just meant he could strap on his scientific boots, metaphorically, and do some research of his own.
This started with inviting you over to the lair every other day, he didn't want to make it obvious after all. You'd hang out together, play some games, even eat pizza and each time Donnie would give you some lame excuse to touch your fur. 
It never worked though, there was always something either way too suspicious that happened or the moment felt off.
"Are you could, here, allow me to drape this blanket over your person, it would be an honour."
"Well, would you look at that huge, oddly lit, light just hanging in the middle of the lair. I wonder as to why it's there in the first place, it's so hypnotising, you just want to touch it, right?"
"Oh, I believe I have spotted something on your shirt with my extraordinary vision. Let me take care of that for you-"
"Donnie, are you ok?" it was on one of these days when you finally questioned his actions, of course, there had been the strange glances and the occasional raised brow, but nothing verbal. Somehow, through this experience, Donnie had forgotten you could even speak.
Not in a bad way, of course. Donnie just tends to get too obsessed with his work, it's something Raph calls him out on.
"Me? You're asking me if I'm ok?" he asked, taken back, palm laying flat against his chest. You shook your head 'yes' like it wasn't obvious, "H-has no one ever asked you that before?"
"Pfft, of course, someone's asked me if I'm ok. I'm not that anti-social, only the right amount," he smirked, that felt like something Leo would say, but hey, it got a laugh from you. The air felt like it had gone stale with the amount of silence in the room, though to be fair, you were in a sewer; the air was never going to be fresh.
Donnie sat down next to you, the recliner squeaking under his weight, rather rude if you asked him. He huffed out a loud sigh, definitly not deliberate by no means, no sir, not deliberate at all..
"Okay, you want to talk!" he heard you yell out, "Why however did you guess, dear sir?" he smiled back. You put the comic you held in your hands to the side of your lap, giving Donatello your full attention, the small tuffs of fur rubbing against the worn leather of the recliner.
"What is it, oh mighty Donatello?" he could see the amusement in your eyes, he played along as he had nothing else to do that afternoon. Dramatically sighing away, he slowly slipped away from the recliner and grovelled across the floor onto the beanbag; his final resting place.
"Wherefore might not but life beest so cruel, i can't standeth t any longeth'r, not while i misseth the thing i crave the most. With yond, i kicketh the bucket!" Donnie pleaded in Shakespearian English, arm outstretched before he collapsed onto the beanbags. 
You rushed to his side, hands braced against his, fake tears in your eyes "Oh no, he's on his death bed, whatever shall I do. I am just a simple man, I cannot resurrect life nor can I save his!"
Donnie's dwindling finger prodded at the air, his voice wavey "You must provide-" he faked a cough for added effect "Provide me with what I most desire-" he then pretended to die again, tongue out and all.
With what he desired the most? Now what could that be?
Well, ever since you had met the brother's they had all been interested with your mutation. You remember Mikey being very eager to see how soft the fluff on your body was, in fact, all the turtles had at some point tried it out; all except Donnie.
Was that the reason for all those weird occurances? No it can't be, Donnie isn't the type of turtle to conduct an experiment on his friend because he's too socially awkward to just ask...No, wait, that totally sounds like him.
Well, there was only one way to find out.
"Alas, dear Donald, I know how to save thee." you tried to match his Shakespearen dialect but failed miserably. You grabbed one of his hands and brought it to the fluff along your arm, gently stroking it. His fingers instinctively flexed with the new texture, his eyes shooting open as he watched you go about your business.
You were so fixated on Donnie's fingers along your arm you barely registered the turtle gobsmacked in front of you. Finally looking up, you met his gaze, a teasing smile on your lips.
"Aha! It has seemed that I have saved you, dear Donald!"
"I-it s-seems you h-have." he stuttered out, completely out of his field. He rushed to apologise but you stopped him with a hug, his limbs went slack, he could feel the fur from all over your body rub against his skin. It was a weird sensation, but one he could get very used to.
"Promise you won't conduct weird social experiments on me? Twas not cool bro." you mused, your head perched on his shoulder. You could slowly feel Donnie nod back, "Wait, but what if it's the good kind of social experiment?"
"Does that even exist?"
"Yes?"
"You shouldn't reply to a question with another question!"