Work Text:
When Michelangelo, cheeky and his grin a carbon copy of the Cheshire cat, happily declared, “I’m gonna get you pregnant.”
Raphael, dazed from creaming himself for the third time sitting on his big brother’s thick cock, had only dumbly nodded in response. It wasn’t like he could verbally respond anyway, the orange turtle’s own dick had been down his throat at that time.
Leo had hummed then, idly, laying back on his shell as he rubbed soothing circles against the blossoming bruises on his immediate younger brother’s thighs from his earlier grip, resisting the urge to dig his fingers into them. “Not if I get him pregnant first.”
Michelangelo stuck his tongue out at the oldest, “I came in him first dude!”
Pointedly, the oldest looked at the mess between the red turtle’s thighs, smirk smug, “I’m pretty sure that doesn’t matter anymore. He’s still on my dick, Michelangelo.”
“Doesn’t matter!” The orange turtle rolls his hips to push his length further into his mate’s mouth, and relishes at the muffled whine the action receives, a churr leaving him at the sensation of his mate’s tongue running along the underside of his hard dick. He had orgasmed less than five minutes ago and the heat simmering low in his belly was far from being extinguished. “He likes having me in him the best, don’tcha Raphie?”
‘Raphie’, with his mouth full, was busy grinding his hips downward on Leo, and the eldest tipped his head back with a pleased sigh, a churr rising in his throat, “See how eagerly he wants me to put a baby in him? Guess you lose, little brother.”
The youngest huffs, eyes narrowing, “Nu-uh! You’re only still inside ‘cause I let you! I wanted him to blow me.”
“Sounds like a you problem, maybe instead of cumming down his throat, you should have kept his pussy to yourself.”
Although a logical argument, Mikey shook his head, grimacing as if the mere thought pained him, “But then I wouldn’t get to see him cry!” Then he turned his attention away from the eldest to chirp at his red mate, “You’re just so pretty when you cry bro, I can’t help it.”
“Again, sounds like a you problem.” Leo mused, and only laughed when the youngest hissed down at him, “Maybe you need better discipline.”
“How about you discipline my di–”
Growling, Raphael pulled his mouth off his youngest mate’s still hard member to hiss at the both of them, though the intimidation factor he was going for was significantly lessened when he leveled a watery glare at them, voice hoarse, “Stop sayin’ dumb shit, I can’t get pregnant anyway you idiots!”
Leo tutted and shook his head, faux disappointment clear, “Uh-oh, hear that Mikey? Raph is doubting us. Guess we gotta try harder.”
Raphael scoffed, “I’ma guy, dumbass. Regardless of how persistent you are, I can’t– ah!”
He was cut off by the sharp thrust up into him, catching him off guard and making him moan. Fingers tangled themselves into his mask tails before gripping the fabric and forcefully tilting his head back, and he met the eyes of his youngest mate with a snarl. “I was talking!”
“Less talking!” Mikey cooed, right hand gripping the mask tails and left hand holding his dick, stroking himself and grinning when poison eyes tracked the movement, gaze hungry despite the annoyance on his face, “Biology smology, we ain’t stoppin’ until you're full of eggs.”
Leo took that moment to finally stop resisting and firmly pressed his fingers against the faint imprint of bruises and moaned when his mate’s walls tightened around him in response, “You’re gonna look so beautiful pregnant, Raph.”
The youngest turtle guided his mouth back onto him, the eldest thrusted up into him again, and alright, fine, whatever, his mates could indulge in the stupid fantasy all they wanted. The promise of ongoing pleasure was enough to quiet his protests for now and go with the flow.
It didn’t matter what their perverted fantasy was, what they had to say, or how many times his mates came in him, he was a male turtle. Ain’t no way that shit was gonna work.
“I can’t believe that shit actually worked.” He hisses out not for the first, second, or fifth time, but probably for the hundredth or so time since it was discovered he was well and truly pregnant a month ago.
He should’ve bitten their dicks off.
Raph didn’t know if all the pregnancy talk had gone to his brothers’ heads since it first came up all those weeks ago, but ever since he rarely went more than a day or two without one or both of his mates touching him in some capacity.
It wasn’t like he was complaining, per say, they weren’t above bodily wants and he sure as hell wasn’t gonna deny himself when he had two mates around.
But for fuck’s sake! Sometimes a turtle just wanted to watch some TV in peace without getting railed into the couch or eat breakfast at the kitchen table without getting bent over it.
He twists his body this way and that way in the hallway’s mirror and grimaces at what he sees: A big belly hanging low, stretch marks decorating up and down his sides as his plastron softens and stretches to accommodate his continuing change in size. He trails his hands up and down his front, then squeezes the new rolls of skin on his hips and frowns.
He’s so fuckin’ fat now, this shit sucks.
His feet hurt, his ankles hurt, his back hurts, he can’t bend over and touch his toes, gone are his hard earned muscles and it makes him sick to see how soft his body’s rapidly gotten. He hisses at his reflection, completely miserable and put off and stalks off to the living room.
There were signs leading up to this that he should’ve paid more attention to.
Pre discovery, he hadn’t known what to make of his attitude change. He’s always been the hot headed one, fists and sai over compromises and peace talks. But even he had to admit it to himself that, he had been more short tempered than usual on their patrol and at anyone around him. He’d sneer and hiss at enemies more than usual, more brutal force behind his attacks than what was strictly necessary. Okay sure, fights always spiked his adrenaline and he hated the Foot anyway, so his behavior could somewhat be excused, though that didn’t stop Leo from reprimanding him from breaking formations and plans just to pummel the losers.
His increased aggression towards enemies didn’t end there. Mikey’s usual annoyingness levels that were somewhat tolerable quickly became unbearable, and ended with the two tussling less for the sake of action and more for punishment. Donnie’s winded explanations about whatever doohickeys or whatchamacallitthats that he was working on that he’d typically tune out, earned him snapping at his immediate brother to stop fucking talking already.
Don’t even get him started on what would happen if Leo was remotely within six feet of him…
What also couldn’t be explained was the amount of food he was craving. It seemed like no matter how many pizza gyozas, pizza slices, and pizza bagels he’d consume, less than an hour later he’d be starving for something to munch on.
He raided the fridge enough times to devour any and all leftovers, and whatever food prep Michelangelo was preparing for the next day, and blamed the missing food on Ice Cream Kitty to piss off the youngest.
And really, honest to God, the worst thing that’s developed is his relentless craving for goddamn cranberry juice. He usually loved the Canada Dry version, but one sip had his beak wrinkling and demanding for them to stock up on the juice after every patrol.
Breakfast, lunch, dinner, watching the game, playing pool, out on patrol– didn’t matter, he had cranberry juice within immediate reach and when he didn’t, his brothers had to deal with his attitude.
Much like his precious juice, he'd finish off his own snacks in record time then go and steal Mikey’s stash from behind the fridge and Leo’s from under his bed. He never cared for his youngest brother’s cheeto puffs and skittles or Leo’s collection of strawberry pocky and sour cream and onion pringles. But damn were they delicious when they needed to be.
Hell, he had even raided Donnie’s lab for his stupid ass nutri-grain bars.
And he would’ve kept his observations himself and just dealt with it on his own if it wasn’t for Donnie’s security cameras.
The nerd didn’t like his stash being stolen and immediately confronted him, which he had to give him props for, the guy was standing his ground more and more.
Mullishly, after being chewed out for a while after their initial confrontation screaming match attracted the eldest and youngest to check on them, he admitted, “I dunno what the fuck’s up with me…I’m just always hungry and irritated.”
Michelangelo, just happy that he wasn’t the one getting the brunt end of Raphael's ire, had chirped, “Sounds like pregnancy cravings to me bro! Maybe it’s working!”
Donatello rolled his eyes, opened his mouth to point out the obvious that they were all male and therefore, couldn’t get pregnant, then paused. He tilted his head, irritation about his loss of snacks momentarily taking a back seat as he studied his immediate brother. His mutant brother. “...huh.”
That led to him being dragged to the purple turtle’s lab to endure several bodily tests for what felt like hours.
It was only bearable because after twenty minutes of his two mates hovering around him in concern, a medical trip rarely spelled good news for them, Donatello had promptly booted them out. Annoyed enough at the loss of his snacks and now with everyone crowding his space to watch his work, he snapped at them to make themselves useful and go get more cranberry juice and snacks if they wanted to make their mate happy.
They hesitated, reluctant for anything to change in their absence. Then Raphael’s stomach chose that moment to gurgle, and the two made themselves scarce. Duty calls.
Upon his mates’ return with their arms full of Ocean Spray cranberry juice, Donatello was able to conduct the tests he wanted while Raphael sipped his juice via red crazy straw straight from one of the many bottles, idly kicking his feet while sitting on Don’s home made rotobed.
Then when another half an hour rolled by, the juice was promptly spat out when the genius held up a long piece of paper, squinted at it, then shrugged. Announced, “Congrats, you’re pregnant.”
He’s coughing harshly, spluttering while the youngest squeals, “He’s pregnant!?"
“I’m pregnant!?”
Leo, for all his dirty talk and bravo for the last couple weeks, was dumbfounded, “Mikey was actually right?”
“I know! I’m shocked too!” Donnie gestured to the paper while completely ignoring the indignant ‘hey!’from the youngest, “But I ran the tests six times and uh, yeah, Raph is pregnant, which, might I add: Ew.”
He rolled his eyes and waved off the stink eye from his brothers, “Calm down. It’s not the pregnancy being ew, because life is precious and beautiful and blah blah blah. But now I have the knowledge that you all are having sex.”
“But you knew we were together.” Leonardo points out, but to that his purple brother just shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I needed to know your business.”
Michelangelo whoops and bounces up to the genius to snatch the paper away, completely ignoring the indignant ‘hey!’ like his brother did to him earlier, and scans the writing. He doesn’t understand any of the words or even tries to pay that much attention to it, but the only words that matter are the pregnancy detected printed neatly at the end. “Dudes! Do you know what that means?”
Raphael, eyeing the unopened bottles of juice and wondering if there was enough liquid to drown himself, looked up with a scowl, “What!?”
“My sperm is built different! And! We’re gonna have a little cranberry!”
Leo, who hasn’t looked away from Raph’s abdomen since the announcement, still doesn't look away at his youngest brother’s antics. “Cranberry?”
“Ya know,” He gestures to his red mate then to the full bottles of juice by his dangling feet, “Because of all the juice you’re drinking! They’re gonna be our little cranberry!”
“Cranberry my ass,” He grumbles, plopping down on the couch and immediately slumping down on the cushions to make himself comfortable, "Feels like I got a goddamn watermelon inside me…”
He hears footsteps approaching him from behind before they fall silent, whoever it is likely staring at him, but he doesn’t turn to see who it is. Instead, he puts his feet up on the coffee table, the eldest’s previous chastising about doing such a thing completely ignored while he closes his eyes and grunts, “Whoever the hell is behind me, get me my juice from the fridge. I ain’t getting up again.”
He keeps his eyes closed and listens to the steps rapidly pitter off towards the kitchen, the fridge door opening and the person rummaging around inside, then slamming the door shut. A drawer opens noisily then shuts just as loudly and his mate makes his way towards him.
He opens his eyes and sees said turtle standing in front of him, desired drink in hand. With how much he drinks the damn juice, Raphael doesn’t bother to drink from cups or glasses anymore, and simply takes the drink and cracks the bottle cap open before taking a swig.
After a few gulps, a belch, and wiping his mouth, he lets out a satisfied sigh, “Damn that’s good.”
Michelangelo is still standing there, and Raph looks at him and raises his eyebridge, “Are you waitin’ for a ‘thank you’? ‘Cause I ain’t thankin’ you for shit. It's your fault I’m like this.”
Donatello couldn’t tell them at this stage whose DNA the baby was going to take after, but Michelangelo was happy to accept any and all blame if it made his mate feel better. Even if it wasn’t technically true ‘cause Leo was also just as guilty as him if that was the case, but whatever. He made being a scapegoat look sexy.
Mikey simply shrugs and grins, unbothered, hydrated, moisturized, but definitely not about to stay in his lane. “I can’t just wanna look at you?”
“Fuck no,” Raph grunts, “I’m ugly and fat. Ain’t nothin’ to wanna look at.”
Bars. But oop, can’t have that now. “Nooooo, you’re so sexy! And cute! And beautiful! And–”
“Fat. And useless. And I got stupid fat rolls now, my back constantly hurts, and I got ankle pain. I hate standing and taking showers now, and Don had to build a bigger tub just so I can fit my fatass in it.” He took another sip then frowned down at his bulging stomach, “This shit sucks.”
Mikey frowns, tilting his head and bites his bottom lip, “Do you…not want this?”
Raphael gives him a look that clearly says you’re a fucking idiot and Mikey snorts, shaking his head. They’ve all talked extensively about this so yeah, the look was deserved. But still! “Of course I want the little tyke, I just hate being forced to not go on patrol and what I look like. I can’t wait to not be pregnant anymore.”
The orange turtle hums, “Well I’m gonna be so sad dude.”
“‘Cause you ain’t got a goddamn watermelon pressing against your bladder 24/7.”
Even as he snarks, Mikey watches the way his mate strokes his prominent bump and lounges comfortably on the couch. It makes a churr climb up his throat that he has to force down. Raph could complain and bitch all he wanted, rightfully so, but pregnancy really does suit him. It may have started off as dirty talk, but man is he glad things turned out this way.
According to the sonogram from a while back, the eggs inside of his mate were mostly empty. Their mutant genes allowed the pregnancy to happen, but only one egg seemed to have life inside of it. Which was just fine with him, he couldn’t wait to meet them! But as an observer he absolutely loved how pregnancy was affecting his mate.
Unashamedly, it did something to his hindbrain watching his mate’s pregnancy slowly develop. How his mate started to slowly but surely go from walking to waddling, how his entire demeanor and figure softened out to accommodate the life inside him. He loved watching how his brother’s stomach grew rounder and hips fleshed out. His tail plumped, sides became squishy, hell, even his pecs seemed to grow bigger as his due date approached.
It didn’t matter how many times he or Leo got woken up in the middle of the night to go on a cranberry juice and snack run, it was well worth watching his brother stuff his face and allow them to cuddle him as a reward.
Raphael would grumble about their hovering and snap at their insistent touches to his belly, but they’d see his tail wag. They knew he loved this shit.
Mikey remembers something he saw online and stands closer to take his brother’s hand, giving a little tug, “C’mon bro, stand up. I know what’ll help.”
Raphael groans, the notion of standing making him slump further down on the couch in protest, “Can’t you just go bother someone else?”
“Nu-uh lil mama, I wanna bother you.”
“Stop calling me that,” He hisses, then groans when his youngest brother tugs at him more insistently. He places his juice on the table and allows Mikey to help him to his feet. If the stink eye was capable of melting people, his orange mate would be a puddle on the floor by now. “You got me up, fuck do you want?”
Michelangelo grins and shuffles behind his mate and then nuzzles the side of his neck affectionately with a coo and chirp, then kisses the same spot. “Just relax, let daddy take care of you.”
Raphael rolls his eyes, but obligingly tilts his neck to allow the affection. “If you call yourself daddy again, I’ll bite your dick off.”
“You’re so sexy when you threaten my dick, dude.”
He folds his arms and throws a disgusted look at his brother, just to make sure he understood how ridiculous he was. The smile Mikey gives him in return says the message has been received loud and clear, and promptly discarded.
The youngest idly rubs his mate’s rotund stomach, pleased and stupidly in love, then drops his hands lower to gently cup the swell of his brother’s abdomen and lifts his belly up some.
The effect was immediate, Raphael expression became one of sheer relief and he slumped back against his brother’s stature, and Mikey planted his feet to take on the extra weight. Raphael groaned, eyes sliding shut as he relaxed completely while standing, “Holy shit, that feels great. Don’t stop.”
“I saw online that this helps pregnant people feel better!”
“Huh, well maybe you’re not an idiot after all.”
Leonardo chose that moment to make his way to the living room, catching the tail end of the conversation. He took in the sight of the two of them, then quirked an eyeridge, smiling lightly. “Who’s not an idiot?”
“No one. Everyone. Shut up, I’m tryna enjoy myself here.”
The eldest shrugs, the idea of finding a snack and relaxing on the couch taking a backseat now that he was in the company of his mates. He makes his way over, briefly moving around the red turtle to kiss his orange brother’s forehead, cheek, nose, then finally his lips. Grinning when his baby brother laughs and happily returns the kiss.
Then he moves to stand in front of his red mate, hands immediately raising to slide his palms over Raphael's abdomen like he has been obsessed with doing ever since the pregnancy reveal, then rests them on his wide hips. “And how is our cranberry today?”
Grumbling, Raph cracks open his eyes briefly to glare at his older mate. “Annoying me, like you are. Didn’t I just say shut up and let me enjoy myself?”
From behind, the orange turtle chirps, “Lil mama is doing great! And cranberry is being their usual self. I’m holding his tummy for a bit ‘cause Raphie’s ankles were hurtin’.”
Leonardo nods at the youngest in thanks, and Raphael tilts his head back to glare at his brother’s smiling face, “Why are you speaking for me? Who made you the boss of me?”
“Absolutely no one bro.” Mikey says, though the statement is contrasted by the way his thumbs idly stroke the stretched plastron of the belly he was dutifully holding up, exactly where he wants to be. In charge without admittance. “I’m just letting big bro know how we doin’, that’s all.”
Raphael attempts to kick Michelangelo, but the attempt is half hearted and lukewarm at best. Being gravid is an adjustment, he’s bigger, slower, less of a threat. Weak. He growls, the relaxation he was feeling ebbing and being replaced with the frustration he was feeling earlier. Frustration he’s been feeling since he saw the numbers on the scale increase.
Leonardo leans forward and nuzzles his red mate’s cheek at the sound of the growl, “What’s eating away at you? Your aura is all sharp and pointy.”
“I’m always sharp and pointy!”
Leo doesn’t bat an eye or point out the obvious, he’s polite like that, “Of course you are. Talk to us?”
He grumbles a little longer, squirms under the eldest’s searching gaze, and looks away, “I’m ugly and fat.”
The leader blinks, a little taken back at the admission, then glances over Raph’s shoulder to the youngest who rapidly shakes his head. “I told you! No you’re not!”
“Mikey’s right, you’re pregnant and glowing.”
Raph turns his gaze back over with a huff, “That’s not the point! I’m– oi, eyes up here!” He sneers, noticing his mate’s averted gaze to his belly and grabs Leo by the chin.
“Sorry,” Leonardo mumbles unapologetically, then straightens to attention when Raph releases him. “I can’t help it, you’re perfect.”
Doesn’t help that Raphael’s new voluptuous chest is at eyeline, it’s incredibly distracting.
“You ain’t gotta lie to me.”
Nevermind. He’s no longer distracted.
Shocked, he can only meet his mate’s gaze with wide eyes, “What are you talking about?”
“I know I ain’t hot like this, you ain’t gotta lie to me.”
Mikey whines, and hooks his chin over the red turtle’s shoulder, “Hey hey hey! Are you callin’ us liars!?”
Raph scoffs, “I ain't calling you a truther!”
“Raph,” Leo says, baffled, perplexed, bewildered, and any other words that could describe his confusion, “What are you talking about? We always say how attractive you are.”
The sai wielder folds his arms, scowling, “Neither of you have touched me since this whole thing, so obviously you’re lying.”
Pointedly, Leo looks at his hands on his hips, then looks at Mikey’s holding his stomach. “Hm.”
Raph hisses, snaps, “Sex, damnit!”
And it makes sense, if he was tryna be logical and shit. His body isn’t the same as it was before the pregnancy. Stretch marks, bloated stomach, swollen joints– hell, it takes a few grunts to heave himself out of bed in the morning because of the goddamn weight he’s gained. So it’s a no brainer to see why his mates haven’t touched him in a while. They’re just tryna spare his feelings by complimenting him.
“Dude,” Mikey huffs, “Last time I tried touching you, you bit the hell outta my hand! And not in a sexy way.”
Raph sniffs, undeterred, “I was hormonal, don’t be a bitch.”
“The time before that, you tried to stab me with your sai!”
“I was hangry, okay!?”
“And what about–”
“Alright alright, settle down now.” Leo shakes his head, “Raphael, of course we think you’re attractive. We’re sorry we made you feel otherwise.”
Michelangelo huffs, but wisely stops trying to defend himself when the eldest glares at him. There’s no point in arguing, but it’s the principle of the matter. “What Leo said dude, I’m sorry for not touching you more. But! I’m just saying! I always wanna touch you.”
The admission makes Raphael squirm, a flush beginning to rise to his cheeks as he grumbles, “...You can’t mean that. Look at me, I’ve gone all soft and useless. I’m–”
“Beautiful.” Leo interrupts, and doesn’t let his mate utter another insult towards himself because he captures his lips in a kiss, deepening it to keep him distracted. While Michelangelo’s hands hold their mate’s stomach, his own hands trail up the other’s sides, caressing the skin and shell there. “Utterly gorgeous and perfect.”
“Beautiful and plump,” Mikey coos, and lightly squeezes Raph’s belly with a giggle, “Such a sexy little mama, carrying our eggs for us. You’re gonna be the best mama ever.”
Raphael gasps when Leo finally releases him from their kiss, panting and fully flushed from it. A small whimper leaves him when Leo presses closer to him, effectively trapping him between his mates. “I ain’t no mama! I-I’m not a girl goddamn it! ”
“Your chest says otherwise, Raphael.” Leo hums, and when Raph glares at him, he only licks his lips in response, pleased when Raph looks away, embarrassed. “You’re going to lay eggs, but your body looks like it’s preparing to nurse our baby.”
“N-No it’s not!”
“Yes yes, I know.” Leonardo sighs, dejected and mournful, “Donnie already told us that your plastron is momentarily soft to accommodate the size of the eggs. You’ll return to normal once you’re no longer gravid.”
“Buuuuut!” Mikey chimes, “Until then bro, your tits look fantastic.”
Raph snaps his teeth. Unfortunately for him, his mates are used to his temper; his display is endearing, not intimidating.
It only takes a moment of shuffling, but then Michangelo is sitting on the couch with Raphael on his lap, the other’s shell to his front. He drops his hands underneath his brother’s thighs to grip them comfortably, then spreads them wide for the eldest to step between them, allowing the red turtle to slump down against him while holding him between them.
Raphael struggles, briefly, probably to save face. But Leo watches the way the youngest raises his hips to press his bulging slit against their pregnant mate’s own slit, and the fight leaves the other immediately with a whine at the sensation. The immediate surrender has Leo churring, pleased, “Just relax, Raph. Let us make it up to you.”
“Yeah,” Mikey says, voice now dipping into a husky manner that makes Raphael squirm when the youngest nips at his cheek, “We’ll show you just how much we love your body.”
“Assholes!” Raph hisses, cheeks almost the same colour as his mask. Noticeably, he isn’t struggling that hard to begin with. He could break Mikey’s hold at any point or demand they release him, but does neither and his mates do not point this out, “We can just do this in our room! Not the couch!”
“Won’t be the first time,” Leo muses, shrugs, unbothered. Their father was out and their wayward brother was gone visiting his own partners. Which means they have the whole lair to themselves, they could definitely clean before anyone returned. “And certainly won’t be the last.”
Raphael is glaring at him, so doesn’t see the lecherous grin on the youngest’s face. He’s the main offender for roping them into any sexual acts outside the bedroon, so it makes sense that eventually the orange turtle’s influence rubs off on them.
“Not gonna lie dude, the last thing on my mind is moving anywhere. Just sit back and relax. We’ll take care of you lil mama.”
Raphael doesn’t have time to refute the nickname because Michelangelo chooses that moment to thrust his hips up to insistently grind against his mate’s slit, cooing, “Feel how hard I am? It’s ‘cause of this sexy body of yours dude, of course I want you.”
“F-Fucking pervert!” He hisses, and turns his head to the side to look back at his mate to hiss at him, blushing face and all.
“S’not our fault you’re so cute like this.” He’s unapologetic, but Mikey looks to their eldest mate with a chirp, “Mind helping me out here dude? Can’t see what I’m doing.”
“With pleasure.” Leonardo churrs, then kneels down between spread thighs to get a closer look. He trails his fingers lightly across the youngest’s slit and presses lightly against his mound, freeing his cock trapped there and grasping his length. He hears his brother churr at the contact, and leisurely begins pumping his member up and down for stimulation. Dual wielding katana constantly means Leo’s good at multi-tasking, and he turns his attention to his pregnant mate’s slit.
Raphael can’t see over his gravid stomach like this, but he jolts when he feels fingers grazing over his slit and whimpers when they stroke the sensitive flesh. Embarrassed at how quickly he feels himself growing wet at the persistent ministrations. Even though he can’t see what’s happening, it’s been a while for any attention down there. He can’t exactly please himself easily in the state he’s in, and with his mates going so long without touching him, his body is just begging for some stimulation.
A finger sinks into him, and he whines at the sensation of being filled. It’s something, but nowhere near what his body’s aching for. “Ah!”
Mikey moans reflectively in response, pouting, “Ugh. I wanna see you being fingered! Leo, finger him harder. I wanna be able to hear it!”
There’s no response from their leader, but one finger quickly changes to two and Raph moans when the two thick digits begin thrusting in and out of his pussy, stretching the slick walls for what was to come. He’s so wet, flushed, and the quick pace of the fingers make slick, squelching noises that makes his face burn in mortification at the sound
“Mhm, that’s what good pussy sounds like…” Michelangelo groans, and Leo hums at the dick in his grasp throbbing at the noise. The orange turtle nuzzles his mate’s neck and nips him, “And you got the best pussy of all, lil mama. How wet is he Leo?”
“Soaked,” Is the immediate response, breathy and pleased, and Raph moans like the praise and confirmation burns him, but it just makes more new slick pool down swift fingers. and Leo pulls them out to lick it off his fingers. They know how much he likes the praise. He purposely leans back on his haunches so his pregnant mate can see how he licks his fingers clean with a grin. “Kinda wanna put my mouth on him.”
That gets a whimper and indignant huff from his immediate brother and youngest mate respectively, and he just laughs. “Another time then. But he’s all ready for you. Raise him up a bit.”
With little effort, the orange turtle does as he’s told and raises his mate up a bit further on his chest, and Raphael shudders at the casual display of strength in his little brother’s frame. His thighs are held open invitingly and unless he truly struggles, they’re caught in a vice grip that he’s unable to resist that makes a ball of shame and lust sink in his stomach. This position makes Raph slump down again with his legs damn near up at the level of his chin, and he whines at the exposure, but they both ignore it.
Mikey could make him sit there to warm his cock, and wasn’t that a dizzying thought? He could bully his way into him until the next morning, could hold him down and fuck into him displayed open like this until their purple brother or father came home.
The thought makes him arch his back, pussy clenching on nothing as his thoughts get away from him. Would he stop? Would he be embarrassed at being found like this? A stupid thought, really, Michelangelo was shameless and dirty about sex, and was quickly affecting his mates. The dumbass would probably keep fucking him to show their other family members how he got pregnant in the first place. Would goad Leo into whipping his dick out too to join in. And Raph would simply take all he’s given, incapable of doing nothing but crying and coming on his mates’ cocks until they were satisfied.
The eldest leans forward again, still grasping his brother’s thick dick and guides the appendage to their mate’s slick folds, then slaps the leaky head against his mate’s entrance just to hear him whine again. “God, you’re just hungry for it aren’t you?”
“Yeah he is,” Mikey churrs, “He wants daddy’s cock so bad.”
That makes Raph hiss, jerking in his mate’s steel grip, “I told you not to call yourself th– ah!”
He breaks off with a high pitch moan when he’s suddenly being made to sink down on his little brother’s cock, whining and whimpering as he takes all the inches in one fell swoop. The filthy moan in his ear from behind him only makes him squeeze around the invading length, and Mikey moans again in response. “Fuck yeah baby, you’re so fucking tight.”
“F-Fuckin’—” Raph curses when Mikey lifts him up again, then drops him down to meet the snap of his hips, ruthlessly pounding inside and making him helplessly. “Ah! You can’’t just– Nnng! Warn me first— ah—!”
“Nah,” Mikey gasps in his ear between thrusts, and although Raph can’t see it, he can practically hear the stupid ass grin that’s no doubt on his face in his voice, “We both know you like being man handled. Mmm, you like being made to dick.”
“No!” Raphael gasps, denies, even as he squeezes his eyes shut with a whine when Michelangelo forces him down to take short, deep pumps, “I-I don’t!”
“You’re so cute when you try to deny yourself,” He hears Leonardo say, and Raph blinks his eyes open to see the eldest standing up once more. The blue turtle grins at him then motions for Michelangelo to hold still, which the orange turtle does so, albeit reluctantly, and Leo is able to carefully maneuver himself to move his feet to stand on the couch cushions. The elevation in height makes him loom over the two turtles, and Raphael looks up at him with wide eyes, confused, then drops his gaze down to his brother’s freed erection bobbing freely in front of him. “L-Leo?”
“Can I feel your titties, Raph? Please?” Even if he’s asking, he’s already moving forward and slipping his hard cock between the artificial cleavage his extended plastron creates. He then pushes into the warm fold between Raphael’s tits with a satisfied sigh, “Been thinking about this for so long.”
Raph splutters, shocked, and ridiculously turned out even as he tries to hide it with a sneer, “W-What?! W-Why would you think about s-something like this!?”
Leonardo rolls his eyes, fond, then shakes his head, “Because you’re beautiful.”
“And! Like I said!” Mikey pipes up from below them, though the older two don’t look away from each other, “Your tits look fantastic.”
“C’mon little brother,” Leo says, nudging his cock closer and Raphael unconsciously licks his lips when the cockhead he’s intimately familiar with oozes pre-cum, “Push your chest closer for me.”
Shaking hands rise to the sides of his chest and push the softened plastron closer together, and completely envelopes the length between them. Raph bites his lip, enamoured and surprised at the sight. He sees his body every day, but he hadn’t thought he could actually do something like this. Had his pecs truly gotten bigger? Why did they fill his hands completely? The bone underneath truly had become soft. Donnie had said he wouldn’t give live birth, so why did it actually look like they could actually be filled with…?
“God,” Leo rasps, and Raph jolts out of his thoughts to look up at his big brother, and flushes at the wide eyes looking down at him with open affection and lust. But there was a part of him preening, pleased, about seeing how worked up his mates were getting over him. Confidence bleeding into the spaces where insecurities had been brewing. “I wish you could lacticate. I wish I could taste your milk. I wish your chest was bigger.”
“You’d be so full of milk, Raph.” Leo murmurs, revertent and eyes darkening. Biology or not, if they can defeat the odds of a womb, maybe if they tried hard enough, they could conquer lactation.
“Pumping milk for our kids…You’d be so beautiful. You’ll get pregnant again, won’t you? Swollen with our children… You’d make them strong. Perfect.” The words fall from his lips, hunger clawing past reason. Now that pregnancy was an option, no way could they ever go back to any sort of protection or hindrance. They’ll populate the entire Hamato clan themselves, and they’ll make sure their perfect mate was comfortable to lay eggs again and again. Little turtle ninjas in an array of rainbow bandanas.
Kink or not, he doesn’t take his words back. They stay—hovering in the heated air between them, a vow coming alive.
“Wow, you really are a filthy bastard.” Raphael snarks, self assured and grins up at the blue turtle with a bite to his smile, “If you want them bigger, maybe you should work harder to put more eggs into me.”
“Ooooouuuuu!” Mikey drawls out then laughs, “Hear that big brother? Lil mama wants to be a big mama next time.”
“Noted,” Leo rasps then snaps his hips forward, then groans when he sees the soft mounds jiggle in recoil. “Yes yes, whatever. We’ll give you as many as you can hold.”
“Sure will!” Mikey chirps, then he’s bouncing his mate back down on his dick and Raphael gasps and moans freely while Leonardo stands above him and continues his own thrusts between his pseudo breasts. “We’ll keep you all pretty and plump full of eggs. You’ll never have to doubt us again, won’t even have to do anything but give this pretty pussy to us.”
Each piston of his thrusts tears a whimper out of Raph as he helplessly bounces, the dirty talk painting a sexy, vivid picture in his mind that makes him wetter and pussy clench around the fat cock inside him. He can see it now: Raphael being fed grapes by Leo while Mikey eats him out, Mikey bringing all the cranberry juice he wants to his room and watches Leo finger orgasm after orgasm out of him. Him riding Leo for that that he’s worth while the eldest squeezes and massages his aching chest, his bigger chest that for a moment, he really does wish he could nurse their children with. He pictures Mikey gripping his fat rolls from behind while the youngest babbles about how sexy he was while he fucks into him. He could spread his legs and watch his brothers fight over who got to get their mouth on him first.
Raphael sees himself fatter, full of eggs just like his mates promised, and his brothers’ eyes never looking at him with any less affection and lust as they usually did.
That’s not such a bad future…
The angle is so so good, every single time Mikey hits that one spot inside, Raphael clenches tightly around him, pulling him even deeper, whining as his cunt flutters and squeezes his little brother’s dick in want. In need.
He keeps his eyes open, not wanting to look away from the eldest’s blissed out scrunched up face above him. He keeps his pecs pressed together to mold around the frantic dick pushing back and forth between them, and moans when Leo cracks his eyes open to look down at him. Raph grins, and he knows he must look lewd with the way Leo whimpers in response, “Wanna come on my tits, big brother? Wanna cum all over them?”
“Yeah,” Leo babbles, and a thrill shoots down Raphael’s spine at how his brother sounds so needy and breathless, for him, for his body. “Your breasts are the most perfect thing, Raph…!”
“Nnn-nn! T-They are, aren’t they?” He muses, briefly glancing down at his enlarged chest with a new perspective. But Mikey shifts then, suddenly scooting forward and flattening himself further down on the couch, to the point that Raphael is laying back completely on top of him. The position has Raph gasping at the angle change, and suddenly Leo shifts forward and thrusts his dick inside of his mouth.
He gags, briefly, but his throat adjusts to the onslaught and he’s blinking away the tears that bead at the corner of his eyes.
“He’s tearing up little brother,” Leo gasps, and Michelangelo moans loudly at that announcement, “Fat tears too.”
Fucking perverts.
“Hot hot hot, you’re so hot lil mama!” Mikey chants, fingers digging into the tender flesh of his thighs and Raph hopes they leave bruises for him to feel later. “I’m-I'm gonna fuckin’ fill you up, Raphie. And you're gonna fuckin’ take it, too, you're gonna– fuck, take it. Take my cock, Raphie, take it–!”
“W-Wanna keep you a mommy, gonna fuck you full again. Fill you up to the brim, you’ll get double p-pregnant!”
Doesn’t matter how gravid he is now, his body is screaming yesyesyesyesyespleaseplease. He moans around the twin thick cock thrusting into his mouth, desperate and horny, body tingly and needy he’s filled from both ends. And he hopes his little brother takes the rhythmic squeezing of his pussy at permission, as a need, as the silent begging to be filled.
Leonardo moans, keeps thrusting wildly into the wet cavern of his little brother’s mouth, pre-cum oozing freely and making the glide slick and filthy, “You’re so good for me R-Raph, taking my cock so w-well!”
The red turtle ducks his head down further, taking the eldest’s cock that wasn’t covered by his chest further into his mouth until Leo could feel the tight clutch of his throat squeezing him from every angle.
Raphael moans, muffled, and Leo’s eyes flutter at the sensation, “S-Shit…!”
So thrown into pleasure, Raphael doesn’t notice one of the hands holding one of his thighs up until he feels fingers suddenly rubbing over his throbbing clit. The onslaught makes him thrash, pleasure quickly spiking and making him whine loudly, a livewire of sensations but Mikey just coos at him and pinches his dick, “C’mon Raphie, cum for daddy.”
And that’s it. The pleasure snaps and suddenly he’s creaming himself all over the dick that’s relentlessly bullying itself inside of him. Thighs shaking in an iron grip while his climax rips through him fingers keep working his clit and Mikey moans, “Ah, fuck, ah–that’s right baby. Cum all over daddy’s dick. S-Show me what a good mama you are.”
The ridiculous moniker has hot embarrassment flushing his body even as his body betrays him and listens, orgasm prelonging and leaving him hypersensitive and whining. “Too much–!” He pants, thighs trembling and tensing.
Leo suddenly pulls his cock out and Raph reflectively gasps for air, then sticks his tongue out as his brother jerks his hips and swiftly strokes himself into completion. Raphael whines, eyes fluttering as hot cum splashes on his face, his tongue, then shoots thick ropes of it all across his chest like the eldest wanted.
Fingers finally leave his aching clit and the pregnant turtle is able to moan, quite loudly now that his mouth is free, a quick series of ah ah ah shitshitshitfuckdaddyyesyespleasepleaserightthere–! Drool and leftover cum dripping down the side of his mouth ss Michelangelo fucks into him, quick and messily chasing his own orgasm, before the orange turtle re-grips his loose thigh to hold him down and finally cum inside him.
He’s trembling in his brother’s grasp, whimpering as he’s filled to the brim. Overstimulation settling in even as he weakly squeezes around the pulsating cock, desperate to milk his brother of everything he can give. Like he could wring him dry and still crave more. “Ngh–Mikey!”
His little brother lets out a deep sigh, satisfied like he’s just eaten a big meal, and Raphael feels the youngest brother shift his body again and begins to pull out. He whines when the thick pressure inside him starts to remove itself, then whines louder when he can feel his brother’s seed start to lazily drool out of him. “N-No!”
“Oh?” Mikey says, then the cock is pushing back inside him with an obscene squelch that makes him groan, “Want daddy to stay inside? Keep you plugged?”
“I-I hate you…!”
“Nu-uh, I heard you say daddy earlier. I know you like it.”
Leonardo shakes his head and on wobbly feet, lowers himself to standing back on solid ground. Says, “Behave Mikey,” then looks to Raphael with a soft smile that’s all affection and love, it’s somehow more embarrassing and flustering to be in front of than wanting his little brother’s softening dick to stay inside him. “I’ll clean up, would you like some juice?”
Raphael huffs, then admits, quietly and with tiredness now seeping into his bones, “Yes please.”
Leo nods, kisses him on the lips despite the mess cooling on his face and chest, then disappears around the couch towards the kitchen.
Mikey groans, “Okay, all jokes aside. My shell is killing me, let’s get comfortable. We can put on a movie or watch TV or somethin’.”
So they do, Michelangelo gingerly shuffling and maneuvering them so he’s no longer half way falling off the couch but not pulling out of his mate either. The movement makes Raphael whimper, but Mikey kisses him in apology and soon enough, they’re settling down with Mikey sitting full on the couch side-ways, using the end armrest as shell support.
Leonardo makes his way back to them, blankets, wet wipes, the requested juice and snacks in hand. He makes quick work of wiping their red mate down and anything that might have dripped. Luckily, nothing had stained the couch so they were good for another day.
He passes Mikey his chips, gives Raph his juice, and once he takes up the other side of the couch and tangles their legs all together, he takes the throw blanket to cover their laps and legs then picks up the remote. “All settled?”
“Yup!” Mikey chirps, and Raph nods even as he settles against Mikey’s plastron and slumps down against him. Honestly, he doesn’t know if he can make it through watching something. He’s fucking exhausted.
Leo presses the button on the remote and immediately the TV screen lights up, and colourful humans pop up on the screen and start speaking. Chipper Japanese speech fills the air along with electric music, but the sound washes over Raph, too out of it to understand what is being said as his eyes begin to droop.
“赤！
青い！
おれんじ！
混ぜたら
混ぜたら
名に 色 ？
なる かな？
クランベリー色！
STAMP!”
He hears the volume turn down to a soft murmur, the lights of the lair dim, and different pairs of hands begin to rub his stomach while another pair dips under the blankets to rub and press firm fingers against his swollen ankles. The pressure feels amazing, so Raphael doesn’t fight it and simply sinks further into the warmth beginning to seep into his mind and closes his eyes.
Mikey says, “Go to sleep lil mama, daddy will take care of you.”
Grumbling, Raphael cracks his eye open briefly to look at Leo, “Remind me to bite his dick off when I wake up.”
Leo shrugs, unbothered while he dutifully massages his mate’s swollen ankles, “I will.”
Mikey squeaks, “Then whose dick will you warm!?”
“I’m literally right here.” Leo huffs, glaring at the youngest and making Raphael laugh.
“Yeah, I have two boyfriends for a reason.” He snorts, settling down and feeling more comfortable than he has in the last few weeks. “ Now shut up, keep rubbing, and lemme sleep. Cranberry and I need some rest.”
That makes both his mates quiet down, and Raphael drifts off to the soft cheery song of mixing colours emitting from the TV and his mates quietly singing along. It brings a smile to his face, and he dreams of turtle tots running around with bandanas in the mixture of their colours.
Their family and his body may change, but now he’s secure with the knowledge that the love they have for each other will be constant.