Neon lights blinked across half-disassembled screens, wires hanging like vines from the ceiling around his little corner of organized chaos. The smell of soldering metal, old pizza boxes, and energy drinks practically belonged to him at this point. And right in the middle of it all sat Donatello.
Huge shoulders hunched forward. Fingers moving impossibly fast over a holographic keyboard projected from the gauntlet on his wrist. Blue light reflected off the sharp angles of his goggles while lines of code flickered over the lenses. He’d been sitting there for hours already, barely moving except for the occasional twitch of irritation whenever something on-screen didn’t cooperate with him immediately.
“Okay,” he muttered under his breath, voice rough from disuse. “If you crash one more time, I swear to God—”
The monitor immediately glitched. Donnie stared at it. Then slowly leaned back in his chair with the exhausted expression of a man one inconvenience away from becoming a supervillain.
From the couch behind him, you snorted.
“I heard that,” he said without turning around.
“You threatened a computer.”
“It started it.”
You smiled a little to yourself, watching him rub a hand over his face. He looked tired. Not physically — not the kind of tired his brothers got after patrols and fights — but mentally drained. Donnie always pushed himself too hard in ways nobody noticed at first. He carried the responsibility of fixing everything, understanding everything, solving everything. Even now, surrounded by glowing screens and half-finished inventions, his shoulders looked stiff enough to crack.
“You’ve been here all day” you said.
“I took a break.”
“You walked to the fridge.” you raised an eyebrow.
“It counts.” he replied.
“It doesn’t.”
He clicked his tongue softly, still typing. “Very judgmental environment tonight.”
You got up from the couch anyway, crossing through the maze of cables carefully. Donnie didn’t notice you approach at first — or maybe he did and just assumed you were grabbing something nearby. Either way, he only paused when your hands settled gently onto his shoulders.
He stiffened instantly. Not because he disliked it. The exact opposite, actually. You felt the tension packed into him immediately, hard as stone beneath your fingers. His muscles practically jumped at the contact before slowly, slowly giving way under the pressure of your thumbs. A quiet breath escaped him. His head dipped forward slightly.
“Oh my God,” you murmured. “You’re terrible at relaxing.”
“I’m multitasking,” he muttered weakly.
“You’re decomposing in a chair.”
“That too.”
You laughed softly and kept going, fingers working deeper into the tight muscles near the base of his neck. Donnie made this tiny sound under his breath — barely audible at first. A restrained exhale. Then another. His hands stopped moving over the keyboard completely now.
The room glowed blue around both of you. And then it happened. A low, breathy whimper slipped right out of him. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just one startled, helpless little sound punched out of his chest before he could stop it.
The effect was immediate. Donnie froze so hard it was almost violent. Silence. Then he straightened abruptly in the chair, nearly knocking your hands away as he cleared his throat with painful seriousness.
“…Mechanical issue,” he said flatly.
You stared at the side of his face. “…A mechanical issue.”
“Yes.”
“That came out of your mouth.”
“No, it didn’t.”
Now you could see it — even through the dim neon lighting — the faint darkening across the exposed parts of his face. Embarrassment. Immediate, catastrophic embarrassment. Donnie refused to look at you now, suddenly hyperfocused on a random screen that definitely wasn’t important two seconds ago.
You slowly smiled. “Oh,” you said quietly. “That was cute.”
“It absolutely was not.”
“It absolutely was.”
“It was a vocal cord malfunction.”
“You whimpered.”
“I breathed incorrectly.”
You laughed harder this time, and Donnie groaned under his breath like this was genuinely the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Which only made it better.
He adjusted his goggles unnecessarily. “Can we erase the last thirty seconds from existence.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No,” you repeated, leaning down slightly closer to him. “Because now I know something.”
Donnie finally glanced back at you carefully. Suspiciously. “What.”
You tilted your head innocently, fingers returning to his shoulders just enough to feel him tense again beneath your touch. “That you make really pretty noises when you relax.”
The poor guy short-circuited. Actually short-circuited.
His jaw opened slightly before shutting again. His entire body locked up while the processors around him hummed louder in the silence. Somewhere across the lair, you could hear Mikey yelling about frozen pizza, but it sounded miles away compared to the way Donnie suddenly refused to breathe normally.
“You,” he said slowly, voice cracking once, “are enjoying this far too much.”
“Oh, definitely.”
Donnie groaned and dropped his face directly into his hands while you laughed behind him, still rubbing circles into his shoulders just to feel the way he kept trying — and failing — not to melt underneath your hands again.
Donnie tried to recover his dignity after that first sound. He really did. For the next ten minutes, he acted like nothing had happened. Like he wasn’t sitting unnaturally stiff in his chair while you continued massaging his shoulders. Like he wasn’t very obviously trying to focus on his screens while his breathing kept subtly hitching every time your fingers pressed into another sore spot. He kept pretending to type things just to seem occupied, but half the time his hands hovered over the holographic keyboard without actually touching it.
You noticed. And worse for him — you noticed exactly how sensitive he was.
“Relax,” you murmured behind him.
“I am relaxed.”
“You look like you’re preparing for surgery.”
“That’s just my face.”
You smiled to yourself. He was trying so hard to sound normal, but there was this tension underneath his voice now. Thin. Fragile. Like one wrong touch would snap whatever composure he’d managed to rebuild after embarrassing himself earlier.
Which, honestly, only made this more entertaining.
Your hands moved lower, thumbs dragging slowly along the heavy muscles near the middle of his back. Donnie sucked in a quiet breath immediately. The muscles there were unbelievably tight beneath his plastron straps, years of carrying gear and leaning over machines practically knotted into him permanently.
“God,” you muttered. “You’re a disaster.”
“I’m efficient.”
“You’re one bad day away from fossilizing in this chair.”
“That’s future Donnie’s problem.”
You laughed softly again, and he visibly relaxed for maybe half a second at the sound. That was when your fingers accidentally found the spot. Right between his shoulder and neck. The second you pressed into it, Donnie jerked. A sharper whimper tore right out of him this time.
Louder. Breathier. Absolutely impossible to mistake.
His entire body folded forward slightly in the chair before he caught himself with both hands gripping the armrests hard enough to creak the metal underneath his fingers.
The room went still. Donnie’s eyes widened behind his goggles in pure horror. You stared at the side of his face for one long second before slowly biting back a grin.
“…Oh, you are kidding me.”
“Don’t,” he said immediately.
“I barely touched you.”
“That’s irrelevant.”
“You whimpered again.”
“No, I—” He stopped himself, visibly flustered. “It was a startled reaction.”
“That sounded pretty needy for a startled reaction.”
His head dropped back against the chair with a low groan of humiliation. “You are never letting this go.”
“Absolutely not.”
And honestly? You couldn’t. Because there was something ridiculously unfair about this version of Donnie. Most people saw the giant mutant turtle covered in armor and weapons and assumed intimidation first. Strength first. The sarcastic genius with the deep voice and sharp mouth who always seemed one step ahead of everybody else.
But underneath all of that? He folded so fast under attention. Not openly. Not intentionally. Donnie still had too much pride for that. But every tiny reaction gave him away anyway — the way his shoulders twitched under your hands, the way his voice got rougher when you praised him, the way he completely stopped functioning whenever you touched him gently instead of teasingly.
And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the hell out of it. Because seeing someone that massive melt in your hands a little? Seeing Donatello — stubborn, sarcastic, intimidating Donatello — trying desperately not to make sounds while you worked the tension from his body?
God. It did something to you.
“You’re smiling,” he accused suddenly, still refusing to turn around fully.
“I wonder why.”
“You’re evil.”
“You like it.”
“I tolerate you.”
“Mhm.”
You pressed that same spot again deliberately this time. Donnie immediately let out another broken little sound before clapping a hand over his own mouth in genuine disbelief, goggles practically flashing blue from how fast his systems reacted.
You nearly lost it laughing. “Oh my God,” you whispered. “There it is again.”
“This is slander.”
“You are literally whining.”
“I am not whining.”
Another slow press of your fingers. Another helpless noise punched out of him. Donnie looked seconds away from throwing himself directly into the East River.
Meanwhile, you were having the time of your life watching this giant six-foot-something turtle absolutely crumble because somebody rubbed his shoulders correctly.
And Donnie was never going to recover from this.
That much became obvious the moment you leaned closer again and felt him tense underneath your hands before you’d even touched him properly. He knew exactly what you were doing now. Knew you’d realized how reactive he was, and worse, that you enjoyed it.
And Donnie hated losing control of a situation. Unfortunately for him, he was also very bad at stopping you once you got like this.
“You’re impossible,” he muttered, still staring stubbornly at one of his screens even though nothing was moving on it anymore.
“You keep making cute noises. What did you expect.”
“They are not cute.”
“They absolutely are.”
A defeated groan rumbled out of his chest, low and embarrassed, and you smiled immediately because there it was again — that subtle yielding underneath all the attitude. The thing nobody else really noticed about him. Donnie barked sarcasm and confidence at the world constantly, but the second somebody cornered him with genuine attention? Genuine affection?
He folded. Slowly. Reluctantly. But completely.
You moved before he could overthink it. One second you were standing behind the chair, and the next you were climbing carefully into his lap, settling sideways across the broad space of his thighs. The gaming chair creaked underneath both your weight and his immediate panic.
Donnie froze so hard he almost stopped breathing. “Wha—”
His hands hovered awkwardly near your waist without actually touching you, like he couldn’t decide whether holding you would make this better or catastrophically worse. His goggles flickered faintly blue while he stared at you with wide eyes.
And suddenly the giant mutant turtle built like a tank looked painfully shy.
“You’re blushing again,” you murmured.
“I am not.”
“You literally are.”
“That could be a heat response.”
“Donnie.”
“Fine,” he muttered. “Maybe a little.”
You had to physically stop yourself from laughing too hard because God, this was unreal. The same Donatello who could threaten criminals without blinking was now avoiding eye contact because you were sitting in his lap. Your hands slid slowly up his chest harness, fingers brushing against the straps there. He inhaled sharply immediately.
“There it is,” you said softly.
His face somehow got darker. “You are enjoying this way too much.”
“Maybe because you’re adorable when you get flustered.”
“I am many things,” he said weakly, “but adorable is not one of them.”
You tilted your head. “You whimpered because I rubbed your shoulders.”
“That was a biological accident.”
You grinned. Then leaned closer until your forehead nearly touched his.
“Tell me something,” you murmured quietly.
Donnie swallowed. “What.”
“What other sounds can you make?”
The poor guy completely malfunctioned. Actually malfunctioned. His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. Every coherent thought visibly abandoned him while he stared at you in absolute stunned silence. One massive hand finally settled hesitantly against your side, almost unsure of itself.
“You can’t just say things like that,” he said finally, voice rougher now.
“Why not?”
“Because—” He stopped, visibly flustered beyond repair. “Because you know what you’re doing.”
“Oh, I definitely know.”
And that was the problem. You were too confident about it now. Too aware of the effect you were having on him. Donnie shifted slightly underneath you, huge shoulders tightening while he tried desperately to regain some composure. But every time your fingers brushed him, every time your voice softened like that, another crack formed in whatever dignity he still had left.
“You’re being mean,” he muttered quietly.
But there was no real bite to it. If anything, he sounded almost nervous. You noticed that too.
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“And yet you’re not telling me to move.”
That shut him up instantly. Because he wasn’t. Not even close. If anything, the hand at your waist tightened slightly, almost instinctive. Careful. Tentative. Like despite all his embarrassment, despite how overwhelmed he clearly was, he still wanted you there.
The realization softened something in your chest for a moment. Then you watched him glance away again after accidentally making another tiny sound when your thumb brushed the underside of his jaw, and the affection mixed immediately with amusement all over again.
“Oh, you’re gone,” you whispered with a grin.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
Donnie looked back at you finally, flustered beyond belief, shoulders tense, face warm, absolutely trapped underneath the weight of your attention. And very quietly, almost painfully honest, he muttered:
The first time one of his machines failed, it wasn’t dramatic.
No explosion. No sparks flying everywhere. Just a small, quiet click… and then nothing.
Little Donatello had stared at it for a long time, tiny hands hovering over wires he barely understood yet. His brothers had already lost interest—Michelangelo had wandered off, Raphael had shrugged it off, and Leonardo had told him he’d “get it next time.”
But Donnie hadn’t moved.
Not until you sat beside him.
You hadn’t fixed it for him. You hadn’t even touched the machine. You just stayed, patient, calm, letting him think, letting him feel without rushing him through it.
He leaned against you eventually.
Not asking. Not explaining.
Just… needing.
⸻
Years later, not much had changed.
Well—everything had, really.
The machines were bigger now. More complex. Screens glowing, wires running across every surface, half-finished inventions scattered across his workspace like a mind that never really shuts off. The lair constantly hummed with his presence, with his ideas, with the quiet genius that never stopped building.
And Donatello?
He’d grown into it.
Taller, sharper, faster-thinking than anyone around him. Always ten steps ahead, always solving something before anyone else even realized there was a problem.
But frustration?
That never left.
⸻
You hear it before you see it.
A loud clang echoes through the lair, followed by a string of muttered complaints—fast, clipped, barely controlled.
“…no, no, that should’ve worked—”
Another sound. Something hitting the table harder than necessary.
You don’t rush.
You already know.
⸻
His lab is a mess when you step in.
Wires pulled apart, screens flickering, one of his drones lying dismantled on the table like it offended him personally. Donnie stands over it, shoulders tense, goggles pushed up onto his forehead, hands moving too fast—fixing, adjusting, undoing, redoing.
He doesn’t notice you at first.
He’s too deep in it.
“I calibrated the output, I checked the frequency—this doesn’t make sense,” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else. His voice is tight, frustration bleeding through every word.
You lean lightly against the doorway.
“Donnie.”
It’s soft.
That’s all it takes.
He freezes.
Not completely—his hands still for a second, then slowly lower, like his brain is catching up to the fact that you’re there.
He doesn’t turn right away.
“…It’s not working,” he says finally.
There’s something different in his voice now.
Less sharp. Less defensive.
More… tired.
“I know what’s wrong, I just—” he exhales, pushing a hand through his headband. “It should’ve been fixed already.”
You step closer.
Careful not to disturb anything, not to invade his space in the wrong way. You’ve learned that balance with him—when to give room, and when to close the distance.
“I’m probably missing something obvious,” he continues, quieter now. “I don’t— I don’t usually miss things like this.”
There it is. Not anger. Not really. Just frustration… with himself. You don’t look at the machine. You look at him.
And gently, you reach out—your hand resting against his arm.
Grounding. Familiar. He stiffens. Only for a second. Then his shoulders drop. Just a little.
“…Hey,” you murmur.
That’s all. No lecture. No correction. Just hey. And suddenly, it’s like something in him gives. Donnie exhales—long, slow, like he’s been holding it in for too long. His hands fall completely away from the table, fingers flexing once before going still.
“…I hate when it doesn’t work,” he admits, voice quieter than before. “I know that sounds stupid, it’s just—”
“It’s not stupid.”
He stops. Finally, he turns. There’s no anger on his face now. Just that familiar frustration, softened by something more vulnerable—something he doesn’t show his brothers, something he barely lets Splinter see.
But you? You’ve always seen it. He hesitates. Then, almost awkwardly—
He steps closer. It’s not like Raph, not instinctive and immediate. It’s careful. Measured. Like he’s still deciding if he should. Until he doesn’t.
He leans into you.
Not fully at first—just his shoulder brushing yours, testing, grounding himself in something that isn’t broken circuitry or failed calculations. You don’t move away. So he relaxes. More weight settles in, his head dipping slightly as he exhales again, softer this time.
“…Can I just— stay here a minute?” he murmurs.
He already is. And when your arm comes around him, gentle and familiar, Donnie doesn’t tense this time. He melts. Just slightly. Just enough.
Because no matter how complex the world gets, no matter how many things he can build, fix, or understand—
There’s one thing Donatello has never needed to figure out: How to find his way back to you.
AN: Is Bay Raph constantly on my mind? Yes. Should you be on his mind constantly? DAMN STRAIGHT! I need not say more 😘
(NOTE: I had to delete the last post and reupload because for some reason it wasn't coming up on Tumblr under any of the tags. If the world doesn't need my smut just tell me now 😭)
Raphael x Reader
All characters are aged up
Warnings: NSFW, smutty content, 18+, MDNI, swears (though that's probably the least of your concerns in a fic like this), dirty thoughts, bordering on obsessive, masturbation, angsty because, damn it, I can't help myself, this got weirdly biblical for some reason, idk how to tag nsfw content, an insomniac trying to grammar, my first official smut so apologies if it stinks :'D
You’re a damned distraction, and Raphael doesn’t know what to do about it. He isn’t without his distractions. In fact, he’s classically known to get torn up in his head over things, especially when there’s an injustice thickly rooted in whatever nameless problem ails him. You, on the other hand, agitate him in ways he wishes not to be true. You’re everywhere he goes, just not physically, like a phantom limb - a subjugator who has conquered his very being.
Many times, over and over, he has tried to categorise you, label you, so he can file you away and forget; anything in an attempt to get you out of his mind, as abnormally pragmatic as it is for him to go such a route. Are you a friend? Best friend? Something more? He bristles at the thought. ‘More’ is dangerous. ‘More’ is a bridge he’s not sure he wants to cross because of how deep this goes, how dark it is.
He catches himself thinking about you at the most inopportune moments. When he’s supposed to be strategising with his brothers, he’s replaying a conversation with you in his head, dissecting your words, searching for hidden meanings. He sees you in the flickering neon lights of the city, a fleeting silhouette blending into the urban tapestry of this concrete jungle. When he’s meant to be watching a game, he’s picturing your hands intertwined with his, your voice fluttering out his name, your body…
You’re not just a distraction, you’re a disruption, and the universe is hellbent on finding ways to toy with his teetering lucidity.
Grumbled curses and wet footsteps can be heard long before you’re seen, but silent curiosities would have been better left when you eventually appear in the lair. Three of the four brothers find themselves around you, each snickering at the pressed spring that is your body. Your crossed arms only tighten further into themselves, lips pulling in between your teeth at their lack of sympathy, but then you remember, they are boys.
Leo is the first to compose himself, matching your exaggerated stance with a raised grin. “You’re not looking very weather-appropriate.”
“I was up until about five minutes ago.” Your hands wipe away at your scrunched-up face. “One moment, sun.” You fling them down, the water hitting the ground with an offensive slap. “The next, a bunch of angry clouds piss on me.”
Laughing semi-heartedly, you loosely gesture at yourself, but dilated pupils behind red cloth have been trained on you the moment you walked in. Head-to-toe, you’re soaked: your clothes stick to you in a way that feels intrusive, accentuating every curve and contour he's learned to admire from a distance, only daring to steal glimpses when you’re not looking. The damp fabric clings to you like a lifeline, his of which is fleeting, and it just highlights your shape, each detail so clear, too clear. It shatters the fragile walls he’s fought to keep intact, a crude violation of the mental boundaries he's desperately trying to maintain. Raphael can’t stand it, and he loathes how the rain has matted your baby hairs to your forehead, a small, insignificant feature compared to the rest, and yet it leaves you looking the most exposed.
In the hazy realm of conversation woven between you and his brothers, he drifts, utterly unaware now. He thinks he catches a flash of Donnie hurrying away, yet the essence of it all slips through his fingers like mist. His form is anchored to this corner, while his thoughts wander far beyond the grasp of the present moment. He wants to lick the rain off your cheek and whisper unspoken secrets he never knew he could keep, what he’s been aching to do to you for so long. He can almost picture how you would taste against his tongue, how soft your skin would be compared to his calloused touch.
As his gaze drops out of focus, you inch closer, lowering to a crawl. Staring up through your lashes, you stop on your knees in front of him, eyes glazed with his deliverance and his destruction all at the same time. He can practically see everything from this angle, each wet crease of material grasping closely onto your body, impersonating one of those marble statues that seem impossible to make by hand. Your damp palms press into his thighs to hoist yourself up, the cold doing little to cool him, doing the opposite, in fact - warm puffs of air feathering against his starved face. His breath shortens, but he does nothing. This should stop; he can’t find it in himself to press that big red button, but this needs to stop. As you close in on him, lips ghost over his own with expectant sighs mixing between each other, and then-
The towel draped over your shoulders is the fire blanket to his perverse absorption; he’s pulled back into reality, where he is, but it doesn’t completely snuff out the embers. His eyes have had a taste of you now, a sample of the meal that he hungers so hopelessly for. You glance around, your gaze lingering on Raph for a fraction of a second before panning away, and he jolts, like a live wire has been threaded through his veins. In that second, he thinks you know, he thinks you’ve caught a glimpse into his vulgar mind, and he expects you to run off, but you don’t. Instead, you pull the towel closer and laugh at something Mikey says, the short spit of eye contact already falling from your awareness whilst it nails into his with a hammer.
Raphael’s fists clench under the table, knuckles paling beneath the wraps. You have no idea. He's thankful for that but it almost pisses him off that you have no clue just how much you invade his everything. He doesn’t quite know when this all started, but he hopes to God it has an end because he’s not sure how much longer he can handle it.
There's a deep shame that comes with these daydreams, an itch that burns within the lowest parts of his belly every time his mind so much as wanders. Unfortunately, the image of you, any image of you, scorches him worse than that guilt, which is why he can't resist those long nights of rutting against his pillow, endless scenarios flicking behind his eyes like a roll of film that goes on forever. There were many reasons that he was thankful for finally getting his own room, more so now than ever. It doesn’t matter what you do, he finds himself in the same place by the end of each day. There’d be the occasional brush of arms, a weightless touch that would burden his skin with gooseflesh, or moments when he’d manage to make you laugh, and the sound itself would drive a tremble through his shell. He thought this was an innocuous crush to begin with, all signs pointed that way, and then it happened.
Shit.
He remembers how this all started now.
It was one of those instances when you didn’t want to go home, too tired after a particularly harrowing shift at work. You had gotten a decent amount of TLC at the lair, but arguably too good, as you found yourself drooping on the couch. The boys would have happily escorted you back home, even volunteering to carry your sluggish form if that’s what it meant, to which you threw out some languidly-humoured remark about them trying to kick you out. Not even. Not ever.
“Take my bed,” Raph had offered without a second thought.
The proposition felt harmless at the time, and his intentions were so. There was no way he was going to let you sleep on the worn mound of springs and pillows that had endured the weight of four mutant behemoths for so many years. He could take it for the night, no big deal. It wouldn’t have been the first time, and truthfully, he was more than willing to sacrifice his comfort for yours. He hadn't even considered the implications of you sleeping in his bed, nor did he think of the consequences: this seed of yearning that would be planted that night to bloom and blossom into the twisted, prickly vine that now chokes his thoughts.
You, bless your oblivious heart, had accepted readily, a tired smile gracing your lips. "As long as you’re sure, Raph. I don't want to put you out."
"Positive," he'd confirmed, a little too quickly perhaps, and then retreated to grab a blanket and pillow.
That night, he barely slept. The couch was uncomfortable, sure, but there was something else: something that nagged at him. He couldn’t quite place his finger on it. His first thought was the lack of activity from the day, barely any thugs had tried their hand at disturbing the peace, or whatever peaceful looks like for the streets of New York. Chances are, he was just restless from how many skulls he didn’t crack. Maybe not. At the time, he was stumped for an explanation, and that only secured his inability to suspend consciousness.
Before long, the early morning had arisen, and you along with it. Raphael’s failure to nod off meant he caught your freshly woken self tiptoeing out of his room. He made no effort to greet you, playing into the idea that he was genuinely asleep as you thought him to be, some parts convinced that he might have been. You slid through the lair with a swan-like equanimity he didn’t want to disturb; each clip of your shoes against the floor calculated and measured to soften the blow of your steps. He probably would have woken up were he soundly snoozing, but the attempt was still appreciated. Raphael never regarded himself as the type to silently observe, to pick up on the little details with such ease, but he had found that he was a little more introspective about these things since you’d been around.
Once you had disappeared completely, he rose from his “slumber” and slipped into his room. He figured he’d be able to get at least a couple of hours' sleep under his belt. He was very wrong about this, however. Upon entering his room, he quickly realised that sleep would be much harder to come by now. The lacklustre day had left him restless, that’s what he kept telling himself at the time, but that wasn’t the real reason. The real reason was the apparitional warmth of your presence on his bed, and if he tried really hard, he’d almost be able to perfectly emulate your body lying in his company. Moreover, it was the lingering scent, faint as it was, that had truly undone him - sweet, undeniably yours, intoxicating. Slowly, he had descended atop the mattress on his side, his cheek brushing against the pillow that you had previously lain on. He could picture you in his place, as you had just been minutes before, curled up in his blankets, comfortable in his space.
He inhaled deeply, committing the fragrance to memory. Succumbing to this was crossing a precarious line. He thinks he knew that, but he couldn’t help himself. A thick rope had taken hold of him without his knowledge, narrowing its taught breach the more he let himself surrender. As he took another heavy breath in, his hand crept down to the beating, almost painful throb that had somehow alluded him until that moment.
This was wrong. Perverted. He was taking advantage, in a way, of your trust, of the virtuous act of offering you comfort when you needed it. You wouldn’t want this. You wouldn’t want him thinking of you this way. And yet, he just could not stop. The essence of you clung to his sheets, whispering promises he had no right to entertain.
A groan escaped his throat, muffled by the pillow he was now pushing into his face, practically suffocating himself in the hints of you that were lingering deep within it. He imagined you hearing him, recoiling in disgust, the trust in your eyes replaced with disappointment, with something akin to fear. The thought was a sharp, painful stab, but still, it wasn't enough to halt his sudden fit of impure mania. He was too far gone, caught in the undertow of his appetite.
He came quickly, shame immediately washing over him in a freezing wave. The pleasure was fleeting, unsatisfying, tainted by the knowledge of his transgression. He lay there, panting, the scent of you now heavy and cloying, no longer intoxicating but strangling. He wanted to scrub himself clean, to erase the moment, to rewind and never offer his bed in the first place.
In his post-nut clarity, it hits him, the disgrace of it all: how badly he wants you, how desperate he is to feel the weight of your body on his, how much he needs every plush piece of skin to become tainted under his hands.
The days that followed were torture; worse than torture if there’s a word for it. He knew he had to avoid you, at least for a while. There was no way he could bear to face you, to see the innocent trust in your eyes. He needed time to process, figure out how to reconcile the image he had of himself with the reality of his actions, but any moment of closure would be met with opposition. Annoyingly, small things: a hair clip in the dojo, a book on the kitchen counter, a faint smudge of lip gloss on a discarded coffee cup. In your absence, these tiny objects served as landmines to his crime, a reminder of what he had done and what he couldn’t have.
Instances in which you were present to share the same air as him, however, were worse, and they still are. If you’re reading, he’s watching the curve of your neck. When he hears you laugh, he hears a calling that simply doesn’t exist. He may catch you licking your lips when they dry, an inattentive habit that makes him envious of your tongue. Each one of these details slots into a catalogue, stored away in the private chambers of his mind to be revised during those lonely nights.
Even his epiphany about stepping back and admiring from afar has been contaminated. Productive revelations have been spoiled and replaced with this thing he doesn’t know how to name. That act of defiling a space you occupied had undeniably tarnished any interaction with you, and in doing so, he had tarnished himself.
He’s a terrible person. People don’t have thoughts like this about their friends. Or, if they do, they’d at least stand a better chance of enacting these thoughts. He should just exonerate himself from you entirely, retreat to the shadows as he has always been taught to. The temptation itself almost makes him laugh. That would imply he has the will strong enough to remove himself from your life, a will he no longer possesses now that you’re in his.
Why can’t it be so easy?
That morning that started this all, something inside him had irrevocably broken. A dam had burst, unleashing a torrential wave of depravity he never knew existed within him. Before that, he’d just thought of you as someone who occasionally wracked his nerves in confusing ways if the circumstances were right. Now? You are everything: his obsession, his undoing, his most profound and concealed secret.
If only this were a simple crush, he could settle for that. It would come with its own problems, he knows, but he could at least sustain it with more prudence; deal with it.
He remembers a time, before you, when his nights were his own, when he could lay his head down after a job well done and bid the day farewell. His skin twitches if he tries to keep any urge at bay, fever lurches behind his eyes any time they close, and if by some miracle he can find his way to sleep without giving in, you all but manage to torment his dreams, too. Vivid, explicit, and utterly mortifying. He’ll wake up drenched in sweat, heart pounding, and worst of all, with morning wood just to add more to this mess for atrocities' sake. He really shouldn’t be thinking about you in this way. You’re a friend, that’s the operative word he strains to keep in mind, but his body, his innate calling, doesn’t care about propriety.
It’s especially bad when he wishes he could practise his older brother’s restraint and condition himself to keep you out of his head. Leonardo’s calm, almost serene detachment is a lifestyle away from his turbulent fixations. Leo, the picture of divine patience, can seemingly shut off any unwanted thought with the flick of a wrist, whilst Raphael is a wildfire, and you the kindling. It’s not as though the routine tactics of his brother would serve him aid in this situation, anyway. Meditation has never done him any good, and it’d only give you the space to tangle yourself up in his imagination again. Instead, he buries himself in his workouts. He tries to sweat it out, tire himself to the point of mindless exhaustion, but the sweat itself stings, and the ache in his muscles is a feeble attempt to dull the sharper ache in his shell.
When he isn’t riddled with pliable what-ifs and maybes, when there is a moment that these lascivious infections decide to leave him be, he has the camera peering down at himself. How long can he actually keep this up? How long will it be before he cracks, before he says or does something he’ll live to regret, regret more than what he’s already done in the dark corners no one dares tread? He’s a ticking time bomb, and you, naively unaware, are holding the detonator.
One way or another, you’re in everything he does, absentminded things like fiddling with his sai; the touch of cool steel against his palms imitates the delicate curve of what he imagines your jawline to feel like. Even the harsh rasp of his father’s voice during sparring matches can't silence the whisper of your name, a prohibited prayer that lingers in his ears. He can't keep you out of his head. He hates it, this constant, burning awareness of you – a forbidden fruit he longs to taste but knows he can't. The self-disgust, the guilt, the painful longing; all of it is a cruel torment, a self-inflicted wound he can't seem to staunch.
He wants to scream, especially on these restless nights, to shatter the silence and break free from the invisible bonds that chain him to this impossible, unbearable infatuation. Yet, all he can do is lie there, a prisoner of his desires, and you visit him once again, not as the friend he knows, the one who laughs easily and quips back with no effort, but as a vision of his indecency. Your smile is a siren's call, eyes a bottomless reservoir of promise. You say things he can only ever dream of hearing from your lips.
This is a fantasy he’s played out innumerable times, but each rerun feels like the first.
You lie back, sprawled across his bed like a fallen angel. Is he your rescuer, or the bastard who shot you down just so he could have you? He can fool himself into thinking this is a mutual salvation, but his jealousy of the stars will have you dragged into the pit with him, where he can savour your divine spirit all to himself. You would never willingly step away from heaven’s light to meet him, of course you wouldn’t, but at least he can pretend, even for a short while, that he has somehow convinced you to fall into this madness with him. He can delude himself that he isn’t quite so alone, and so he follows the illusion of you and takes, moving like a man possessed, lacking dignity, lacking regard.
He stops fighting these premonitions now. He thinks that if he wholeheartedly appeases this greed, abandons all virtue to the fever dream that paints you as his willing partner, that he’ll be set free. He lets the imagined warmth of your skin banish the cold reality of his isolation. He allows the phantom scent of your hair to fill his airless room, drowning voluntarily so that he can fall to the ocean’s depths where he may finally find peace.
This dance with delirium, sometimes culminating for hours, eventually has to conclude, however. Your mirage blurs into nothing the closer he gets to the end, hoping with a crossed jaw that this will be the last time he sullies your good name inside his fist.
It never is.
No matter how many times he relieves himself to your notion, it never alleviates the want, the need, the dependency that’s been conceived on this idea of having you. It only makes it worse. His stomach empties more each time, and his head bloats with new possibilities just to mock him. Every instance in which he falls victim to his imagination, he staggers closer to Hell, and Earth’s core will burn him alive long before he ever admits to the degeneracy of his vestige’s mind. This false impression of reality is much sweeter, bitter in its aftertastes, but easier, a dark bubble without complication, without an outward looking in to tell him how wrong this is.
You’re a damned distraction, and at the cost of his sanity, Raphael can’t find it in himself to do anything about it.
This is kind of an idea I coined off of @moxfirefly (called Obsesión on AO3) when I realised the similarities halfway into writing, so go read that!! It's a good one yo 🙏
➸ Bay!TMNT X War of The Worlds (2005) crossover.
Rate/Warnings: Mature audience, NSFW/ANGST, violence, blood, argues, etc... but don't worry, there will be SFW stuff as well
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"No one would have believed, in the early centuries, that all worlds were being watched by intelligences greater than our own". Krang murmured, his gelatinous body too weak to withstand the intense pain inflicted upon him. The prototype - what had once been his body - lay completely destroyed a few meters away.
"As my race busied themselves with their various concerns, the invasors observed and studied the way Earthlings with a microscope might scrutinize the creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water". He struggled to raise his eyes and noticed how completely his ship had been annihilated, its remains strewn in every direction.
Looking farther ahead, he finally understood that everything was gone - everything he owned, everything he knew - while many massive Tripods marched on different directions, unleashing laser fire, their terrifying mechanical cadence reverberating through the red-stained world he once called home. "With infinite complacency, we went to and fro about the globe, confident of our empire over this world."
Suddenly, one of the giant machine's three legs slammed down onto the destroyed prototype. A blinding white light loomed over his weak, light-pink body. The machine slowly lowered itself toward Krang, pointing its neon-blue weapon at him.
It was the most beautiful shade of blue he had ever seen.
"Yet across the gulf of space, intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic regarded our planets with envious eyes...", the weapon draws even closer, its laser's heat intensifying and burning his fragile skin. "and slowly, and surely, drew their plans against us."
The laser was finally unleashed, wiping away the existence and legacy of his being.
This fanfic is a crossover between one of my favorite alien movies War of the Worlds (2005) and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows (2016). After watching WoTW for the 'thousandth time', I couldn’t stop thinking: ''What if the turtles went through an alien invasion like that? Honestly, I think it would be way worse than Krang''. That’s when I started imagining how both stories could fit together. But just to be clear: I’m not just copy-pasting Spielberg’s story and throwing the turtles in. What I’m writing has new twists, fresh scenarios, and even some extra characters.
Important:
➳ This fanfic is for mature audience! NSFW/ANGST: Violence, blood, argues, etc... but don't worry, there will be SFW stuff as well;
➳ Multiple-chaptered fanfic;
➳ The mutant turtles are 24 years old here. I won't accept "but they're underage" comments;
➳ The story is set in present day;
➳ No reader and no OC insert. It's focused on the original characters in both movies;
➳ It will be posted on Wattpad (mythicalninjas) and AO3 (Chimarruts). All links are in the pinned post <3
DISCLAIMER: This fanfiction is a work of fan creation. I don't own the TMNT movies nor War of the Worlds (movie or book). The original characters, original settings, and original story elements belong to their respective creators. Only the plot of this fanfiction belongs to me. All credits go to the directors Steven Spielberg (WoTW 2005) and Dave Green (TMNT 2016) and to their teams.
P.S.: I won't be using anyone's fanarts (unless they allow me to). All images you shall see in this fan creation are screenshots from both movies and a few NYC pictures from the internet.
If you haven't watched War of The Worlds (2005) yet, please go for it. It's amazing! There's the full version on YouTube ☺️
Thanks for giving attention to this little but important note. I really appreciate it! Hope you enjoy my work ❤️
The reader has been crushing on donnie for awhile now and one day they both are alone together in Donnie’s workshop tech thing and the reader gets touchy with donnie while he works on his gadgets and one thing leads to another 👀 reader gives him head while donnie try’s to concentrate on his project. 😛😛.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ We Gotta Be Sneaky (Bayverse!Donnie x GN!Reader)
ᯓ★ smut, bj under the desk, semi-public (?), sub!donnie, lot's of stuttering, reader goes by they/them!
ᯓ★
You've always had a massive crush on the purple turtle. Out of all of the four brothers, he just seems to get your attention without even needing to try. How you could be in the common room and watch him make himself a cup of coffee, the muscles on his body flexing each time he moves. It's just so effortless it makes you foam in the mouth.
So today, you somehow scored yourself some alone time with the turtle.
Turns out he's been working on some new tech and he needed some extra hands around. With everybody busy or you can rephrase that as nobody wanting to assist him, you were the person he came to with the request. That's where you found yourself, sitting on his chair, spinning around without a care in the world while he walked around grabbing his things.
You're starting to think he just wanted some company since he hasn't asked you to lift a single finger.
"Where's my... okaaay... just need to... juuust right..." He mumbles to himself, his hands busying away with whatever project he's doing.
Clearly bored, you stood up to stand beside him. It was when you approached him that he was reminded of your presence. It was as though he finally remembered why he called you here, to help him, and yet he's too embarrassed to ask for your help.
"What are you working on?" You asked and his lips curved into a smile.
"I'm building a new holographic training simulator. It's designed to generate realistic fighting scenarios based on the data I feed it. With every footage collected from my camera, I can just upload it to this device and it will generate a training session replicating the style of a specific adversary" He says tinkering with it before carefully picking it up.
He walks over to his desk, sitting down on his chair as you stood close by. You watch him place it under the microscope before taking some tweezers to modify it. You tilt your head, getting a good view of everything.
And by everything.
You couldn't help but peek at his bulge. Despite being soft, your imagination was able to make out how big he was. With everybody out of the lair, you didn't had to worry about your roaming eyes getting caught.
"Isn't it cool?" He looks over his shoulder and at you, noticing how close you were to his face, his eyes shamelessly darted down to your lips.
Your lips looked so plump that he couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to kiss you. That's when he realised what he was doing. He quickly turned his head, hoping you hadn't noticed but you already did.
It was so obvious that it was hard not to.
Noticing the tension growing in the air, you placed your hand on his shoulder. He jumps a little. He's not sure whether or not if you even liked him that way. Despite his feelings for you, he highly doubted that a human like you would ever be attracted to a mutant like him.
"Are you turned on right now?" You questioned and that's when he felt it, his cock twitching bit by bit that you could see it so obviously through the baggy clothing.
He faces away from you, ashamed and very much embarrassed that this is happening to him right now. Just when he's about to open his mouth to suggest you to leave, he felt your hand on his feet and it peaked his interest. He turned to see you crawling under the desk. He panics but his body betrays him.
Now his cock was completely hard from the sight of you poking your head out from between his legs.
"We can't do this! What if someone catches us?" He opposed the idea but man as much as he hated to admit it, you looked so hot in this angle.
"Everybody's out remember? But if you're scared of getting caught then you'll have to keep quiet" Your hands teasingly roamed up his legs until you reached the top where you began unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.
You pulled his boxers down and his cock sprung free, hitting you in the face which had you chuckle at how incredibly aroused he already was. With bits of his pre-cum on your cheek, you wipe it off and tasted it in your tongue, your eyes locked to his.
"Shit..." He curses. Is this really happening? Is his crush doing this right now?
As much as he tried to focus on his work you were making it hard to. At some point he completely gives up when you slowly pushed him by the waist, his back now pressed against his chair and he didn't bother to fight back, rather he let you have your way with him. He gasps the moment he felt the wet hotness of your tongue licking the tip of his cock whilst your hand slowly jerked the rest of his length.
"Ohhh— haah—!" His chest heaves. The way you were working on him so impatiently made everything slip from his mind.
He couldn't careless if his brothers walked in at this moment because he never knew you could make him feel this good. His moans echoed throughout the lair due to the lab being an open space room. In a way, the thrill of getting caught fueled his lust even more.
By the time you were done with warming him up, you opened your mouth wide, swallowing his cock inside or what you could fit of it. What you did threw him off guard. He moans, startled by your eagerness to suck him as you were already bopping your head to make him feel good.
"Ungh— mm—!" He whimpers, feeling too much at once.
His hands moved to grip on the armrest as his eyes were now half lidded. You were slowly picking up the momentum and it just made his moans grew louder. He was embarrassed but he couldn't help it. The sound of you gagging adding with the lewd noises of your saliva and his precum was getting him off even more.
He bucks his hips, hoping you could take more of him despite how small your mouth was compared to his cock. But shit, can't you just try? For him please? You wanna make him feel good right? He thought as he cried out in pleasure, the sounds coming out of his mouth becoming more pathetic the more you went on.
His grip on the armrest tightens, that funny bubbly feeling now forming across his body like a storm.
"I-I'm close—haaah—! w-wanna come—!" He utters and you simply looked up at him.
Using your free hand, you grabbed his hand to place it over your head, giving him the chance to use you as he wishes. Getting the hint, he readjusts himself on the chair before finding the perfect angle to thrust his hips up into your mouth. You closed your eyes, feeling the way his cock hits the back of your throat each time.
If you weren't wet earlier, you were completely soaked now. You never thought you'd see the day where your crush would be using you like a feral animal like this. Feeling your own arousal, you couldn't help but rub your thighs together for any sense of friction. Your suppressed moans vibrated his cock and it just further made his moans get even louder and his hips move sloppier.
His breathing slows.
"Yesyesyesyes— 'mgonnacome—gonnacome— c-coming—! fuuuuuuck—!" His legs shake as he buries his cock inside your mouth, strings of his orgasm spraying down your throat like wildfire.
You groan, your nose pressed against his groin while feeling his cock twitch a couple of times inside before he finally pulled out. You cough, trying to catch your breath. As nasty as it seems, you couldn't help but enjoy the taste of him on your tongue. Soon, your focus shifts back to him when you could hear him throw himself back on his chair, his whole body trembling while he's trying to gather his composure.
"So... mmh..." He sighs, clearly exhausted.
Remembering where he was, he looked down at you, seeing how your chin to your shirt was soaked of both you two's bodily fluids. He couldn't help but be smug about it. He reached for his tissues and scooted over on his chair to help you wipe your face dry. As much as he hated to do so, he couldn't leave you like this.
"You enjoyed yourself?" You asked, your voice bluntly messing with him.
He blushes.
"Yeah... thanks..." He says and he stared at you for a moment, contemplating for a bit before kissing you on the lips. Instinctively, you kissed him back, your hands cupping his face delicately.
How would the boys react to their s/o getting a giant, nasty lookin bruise (from something innocent like helping friends move or something)
THE BOYS REACTING TO SEEING A BRUISE ON YOU
TW: bruising, getting hurt, the boys getting upset, GN Y/N
The Scenario is: y/n spent the whole weekend helping their friend move stuff to their new apartment. Somewhere along the lines of doing that, her friend accidentally bumped into y/n resulting in her thigh bumping against the edge of a table in the room. It was painful but thankfully no bleeding/major injuries. It did however resulted in a nasty blue bruise on the side of her thigh but she paid no mind to it.
Leonardo -
When you walked into the lair leo was doing what he always did there. Meditating. He sat legs crossed in the middle of the mini makeshift dojo and eyes closed. You could spot him a mile away, so you gently walked towards him trying your best to contain your excitement to finally get to see and spend time with him again after a hectic weekend of helping your friend. You walked, practically tip toed towards him, facing his back in anticipation.
Just as you were about to jump on him, he proceeded to turn around and looked at you straight in the eyes with a soft smile "good morning my love" he said softly. You exhaled and smiled back slightly disappointed "hi leo" you walked closer to him arms open ready to hold him again. He gets down, and stands up walking closer as well arms open ready to hold your waist. You two share a warm hug together and he mutters "I've missed this... I've missed you my love" you chuckle arms still wrapped around his neck "it's only been a weekend leo" he chuckles as well snuggling his head deeper into your neck inhaling your scent.
He then proceeds to lean down even more and surprises you by lifting you up, one hand below your thighs and the other below your waist. You gasp, arms still around his neck and shoulders "leo! you need to warn me next time! what if I stumble or something..." you expressed. He just smiles and says "I'd never let you fall love let's be real" and he walks slowly towards his room, eyes never leaving your face. You get bashful and say playfully "stop looking at my face you're making me nervous" whilst pushing his head away to not face you. He chuckles lightly and shakes his head, proceeding with your orders he looks ahead, but just as he was about to enter his room he sees your legs, more specifically your thigh and sees the bruise you got.
His eyes sharpen and you can see his expression changed from relaxed to concerned, his brows furrow as he opens the door and walks in his room. You were about to say something but he gently sets you down on the edge of the bed so you're sitting. He proceeds to kneel in front of you and holds your injured thigh "what is this? how did this happen? are you still hurt? did someone do this to you?" he says whilst caressing your thigh gently and eyes focused on you.
You sigh and smile softy, his act of caring and being concerned warms your heart. You hold his face with both hands and say reassuringly "leo it's nothing, I just got it while helping my friend move yesterday, it was a small space and we bumped into each other which caused me to bump against a table nearby. It doesn't hurt anymore love don't worry" he sighs as well and looks down at the bruise.
"I should've been there to help, then maybe you would not have gotten hurt in the first place" he says and swipes his finger gently across the bruise. You shake your head and grab his face "it's not a big deal leo, don't worry about it" you say looking at his eyes. He smiles weakly but you can tell he still feels bad. He looks down again and this time leans down gently moving closer to your thigh, he proceeds to place a gentle kiss on your bruise. He looks up at you, then slowly stands up "let me ask donnie if he has anything for this" he says and slowly walks out his room.
Raphael -
You walked into the lair looking for your boyfriend, it had been like two days since you two last saw each other. Usually as busy as you'd be you both would always try and make time for each other at least once a day even if it's a short hello and how are you. Raph was reluctant to see you move all those stuff alone, he persisted to come with and said he'd help make it easier for everyone and then you two would have more time to spend together. But you convinced him it was a bonding moment for you and your friends as well so you guys don't mind the hassle. He reluctantly agrees eventually with the promise that you'd have the whole of Monday together.
So here he is monday morning tapping on your window. No answer, he then taps even louder and more frequent. You're confused as to what noise that was and you woke up gently, you were sleeping. You heard the taps and recognized that it was raph but your room was still dark so you groggily opened your phone to see the time, it was 4am in the morning. You facepalmed and slowly stood up from your bed and walked towards the window near the fire escape, still rubbing the sleep off your eyes. And as you predicted raph was there tapping on the window before dawn and he's looking very impatient.
You use whatever energy is left in your body and slowly open the big window. Once you open the lock and slide it a bit raph takes over and opens the rest himself, he quietly gets in your room and closes the window behind him curtains and all. He sees you still trying to wake up and you look at him sleepily "early much raphie?" you chuckle and say to him. He just shakes his head and smirks "can't waste any time with you babe, I'm making sure we make up for lost time" he replied and slowly leaned in for a kiss. Your lips touch and his hand caresses your face, the other hand holding your back pulling you closer to him. You smile into the kiss and pull back "I missed you too babe" and rested your forehead against his.
He pulls back now looking at you whole "still sleepy huh? let's go back to bed then" he says and takes off his gear. "mhm..." you say followed by a big yawn and stretch, you raised your arms above your head and your shirt raised with it giving him a full view of your bare legs. He smirked, eyes never leaving your figure clearly enjoying the view but then his eyes notice something even in the darkness. He jerks, moves closer and kneels in front of you while you stand. He takes a closer look and gently places a hand on your thigh. He looks up at you and says lowly "who did this?" whilst suppressing a growl. He looks pissed, you're still trying to register everything with your 'just woken up' mind. You blink a couple times until you realize what she meant.
You chuckled and held his face in your hands "no one did this raph" you looked at him endearingly "then how did you get it?" he asked not entirely reassured yet. "well..." you started and began to walk slowly to the bed "while moving boxes yesterday, it was a small space and (friend's name) bumped into me accidentally" you continued cut by a quick yawn as you sit down on your bed. "and well I fell forward against one of the desks there and yeah that's how I got this" you point at your bruise.
"so... someone did do this to you" raph replied as he stood and slowly walked towards you on the bed, face still as serious as ever with his brows crunched. You chuckle finding his overprotective ness endearing, you shake your head and say "it was an accident babe please" he sees you laugh and although it calms him a bit, he's still concerned and a little pissed. I mean someone basically caused pain to his girlfriend? the love of his life? so he probably feels like it's well in his right to be pissed.
But he sees how sleepy you are so he tried his best to move on "does it still hurt now?" he asks sitting down beside you. You shake your head and yawn again "ahh.. it's fine now raphie" you say and rub your eyes while moving to a laying position on the bed, ready to sleep again. He follow suit and lays beside you, moves you so your head is laying on his chest whilst his arm holds your waist and hips closely to him, you snuggle into him. "fine I'll let it slide for now... but if I see them again I swear-" he starts but is caught off guard when you kiss his cheek "good night raphie".
Donatello -
Donnie had known about your plans for this weekend, he knew it was going to be quite a hectic scene and he did offer his help to you but you said it would be a small space so less people would be better. Donnie also knew your tendency to trip and the chances of an accident happening in that environment under those conditions would have increased the chances of you getting injured. So he was wary of the whole situation.
The night before the move donnie had paid a visit to your place wanting to give a quick briefing before you'd be gone for the weekend. So there he was in your apartment walking around almost mumbling to himself "okay so remember the tracker I gave you? You always carry it right? Make sure not to forget it okay I need to know if anything happens or worst case scenario you get in a accident and go to the hospital, I will be there asap. Also if anything does happen and you are able to contact me just press the emergency button in your tracker okay I built it in so I'll always be available for you. What else... stay away from sharp edges and don't stack the boxes too high because it will increase the probability of accidents happening and make sure to communicate effectively between your group because the last thing we want is any of you falling into each other or worse.." he just keeps going and going whilst pacing around your room as you sit on your bed just mesmerized by his whole thought process
Somewhere along the lines of him going on and on about your safety you giggled causing him to stop in his tracks and look at you, "donnie baby I'll be fine, it's not like we're planning to take down the foot clan or anything" you say finding his overprotectiveness funny. He blinks and slowly turns to walk towards you "well I'm sorry honey, It's not that I think you're not capable it's just that... there are a lot of unpredictable variables in this and I'm not there to look out for you so I can't help but be worried" he goes off and says. You look up at him with loving eyes, you grab his hand and say "don't worry too much donnie, listen if anything at all happens I'll call you okay? even if it's just a paper cut" you chuckle after finishing "promise?" he asked "promise honey" you replied.
Time flies and the accident happens, you indeed keep your promise and call donnie and the first thing he said was told you so. So here you are now in the lair, in his lab sitting on a makeshift hospital bed he made. Donnie is sitting on a low chair looking at your fresh bruise which still aches and is starting to show some hues of blue and purple. He looks concerned and proceeds to stand and scramble around to look for an ointment. He finds it, goes back to the low chair, and opens the jar "this might hurt a bit but I'll try to be gentle okay honey?" he says whilst looking up at you concerned. You nod "okay donnie" he then proceeds to scoop a bit of the ointment and gently spreads in on your bruise. You can smell a hint of mint and other medicinal herbs. His fingers tries it's best to not put too much pressure on your bruise whilst applying the ointment so you don't really feel it at all. Quick and painless.
"this will help with the bruise so that it heals faster, that way you won't have this stain on your perfect thigh for too long" he says casually as he cleans up and puts the jar away. "thank you donnie" you say smiling at him, grateful for how he (almost) always has a solution for everything. "My pleasure" he replies and fixes his glasses "now you rest, don't let your thigh do too much work now, if you need anything just tell me and I'll get it for you" he says and gestures you to lay down on the bed.
You shake your head "don't you have things to do?" you ask "well... yeah I do need to clean up some internal coding and files in my computer" he replies. You get off the bed and walk towards his desk "then let me be with you, I can just watch I promise I won't bother" you ask and smile trying to give him your iconic puppy eyes. He stares at you mouth slightly open but quickly regains his posture "F-fine... if you really want to" he says and walks towards his chair sitting down. He moves back a bit and pats his lap "come here" he says and you gently place yourself on top of his lap, he moves closed to the desk so both his hands cage you in between him and his des. For a moment he holds you, gives you a nice big hug "get comfortable honey, if you wanna shut your eyes feel free to, I'll be right here okay I gotchu" he says and he moves his hands to his computer and does his work while you enjoy his presence.
Michelangelo -
You weren’t expecting the bruise to show—honestly, you’d forgotten it was even there. A weekend of moving boxes, bumping into corners, and falling over your own feet had left you a patchwork of purple spots, but the one on your thigh was the worst.
Unfortunately, it was also the exact moment Mikey decided to scoop you up.
One second you were walking into the lair with a bag of takeout; the next, a giant orange-banded turtle was lifting you off your feet like you weighed nothing. “Babygirl! You’re back!” Mikey spun you once—gently, for him—before setting you down on the couch in his nest of blankets.
That’s when his eyes caught on it. The bruise peeked out from under your shorts, a deep purple smear across your thigh. Mikey froze.
“Uh… what’s that?” His voice dropped, no longer sing-song, no longer carefree. Just confused. And scared.
You looked down and winced. “Oh. That. I forgot about it.”
His expression did NOT say “forgotten.”
His expression said someone was about to get drop-kicked through a wall.
“Mikey, hey,” you said quickly, putting your hand on his arm before he spiraled into ninja-revenge mode. “It’s from moving last weekend. I tripped on a box and smacked into the coffee table. Not dramatic. Just me being clumsy.”
He leaned in, inspecting the bruise like it might bite you.
“You sure? Nobody hurt you?” His voice softened but kept that serious edge you almost never heard.
“I’m sure.” You poked his plastron. “If someone hurt me, you’d be the first to know.”
Mikey’s shoulders relaxed, but only a little. He still looked like he wanted to wrap you in bubble wrap and keep you in the lair forever.
"Cause, y’know,” he murmured, brushing his fingers over the bruise as lightly as a breeze, “you’re kinda important to me. And I don’t like seein’ you hurt. Even from furniture.”
Your heart melted a little. “I’ll try not to pick fights with coffee tables anymore.”
He snorted. “Good, ‘cause I swear I will body-slam your furniture if I gotta.”
You laughed, and Mikey finally seemed satisfied you weren’t secretly dying. He grabbed a blanket and tucked it around your legs, careful of the bruise.
Then—because he was Mikey—he held up a cup of bright green bubble tea.
“Official Mikey prescription,” he announced triumphantly. “Boba and cuddles until the patient recovers.”
“You’re not a doctor,” you teased.
“Girl, I’ve watched so much medical drama I might as well be one.”
He flopped next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You sank into him, warm and safe, and he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.
“Next time you move,” he said, “you call me. I’ll carry every box. Even the heavy ones. Especially the heavy ones.”
“Deal.”
“And no more bruises,” he added.
“No promises,” you laughed.
“Then I guess,” he grinned, pulling you closer, “I’ll just have to keep takin’ care of you.”
And honestly? You didn’t mind one bit.
Note: notice how mikey's part is a little different? lol I wasn't the one who wrote it bcs I don't really like mikey... and I find it difficult to write about him compared to the other 3. Anyways hope you enjoyed! Finally postin a fic after ages of silence here haha. Drop a note if you wanna see more!
Hey there! I know it might take a while, but could you maybe write an Imagine with Donnie having a Crush/GF with glasses? Only when you have enough free time of coarse :) Cheers love!
this is such a cute and simple request! of course dearest
TMNT Donnie reacts to you wearing glasses (friends who like each other, slow burn!) ft. you two working on a code together
A/N: GN Y/N who has poor eyesight, usually you don't wear glasses but instead use contacts, but on that day you couldn't find your contacts so you opted for glasses instead. Y/N is a programmer and loves computer science as well so they often times will consult with each other on tasks and missions.
1518 words
The lair was quiet, leo was out patrolling, raph was working out quietly in a corner, and mikey was sleeping in his room. Donnie was where he always was, in his lab sitting on his chair and tinkering on his computer finding endless ways to keep optimizing his software and programs. He was in his own world, he had dedicated this day to clean up the internal framework of the intricate system he developed original for his mega computer. And he was sure enjoying this time. It was already close to noon and he hadn't moved an inch. At one point raph was done with his workout and passed him "you aint move an inch since I last saw you don" he remarked and donnie just hummed in reply too focused in his work to face raph "I'm bettin nothin gon be able to move you from that position" he scoffed and walked away planning to take a cold shower before fixing himself a late lunch.
Not long after that however donnie gets stuck. He finds a particular line of code that seems to be working fine but theoretically is wrong, he's tried every possibility but every time he changes a line of code the whole thing doesn't work. He pauses and leans back in his chair, for once finally changing his position, he looks up at the sewer walls and thinks for a moment. An idea pops up, he looks at his phone but hesitates for a second. He shakes it off and decides to go through with it and he calls you.
Meanwhile in your apartment you were enjoying a very lazy day, you had your comfy pjs on and laid down on the bed while scrolling through your phone. Suddenly the phone's screen freezes, and it shows that donnie is calling, you paused and sat up, usually donnie only calls if something is wrong so you instinctually stand up as well and get ready whilst answering his call.
"what's up don?" you say while brushing your hair
"heyy... y/n... are you busy?" he says
you open your closet and scan through it "not really, I was just lazing around" and you grab a random hoodie and shorts to put on
"sweet well you mind coming down and help me with something? just some code I can't wrap my mind around" he continues
"oh? that's all?" you stood still for a moment surprised to know it wasn't anything too major
"yup" he said "I'll be here waiting for you then! see ya" and he ended the call
You stare at your phone for a bit but shook it off and got ready. You moved towards your cabinet to put your contacts on -you have difficulty seeing far away- but you notice they're not in the same place you put them yesterday. And then you start to think if you did place them here or not yesterday. Either way you open the drawers in the cabinet and can't find them. You decide it'll be too much of a hassle to look for them now so you just reach for your emergency pair of glasses and walk out your apartment. You walk towards the lair, the sky is slowly turning into hues of purple and dark blue.
Meanwhile donnie was still in the same position that he was since he woke up. He decided to keep on trying to tweak that singular code that felt like it was driving him insane. He kept on typing and deleting and typing and so on over and over again trying to focus on it but he can't help but get distracted by the thought of you coming there to help him. To say that he wasn't attracted to you would be a lie, he found you absolutely stunning and the way that you two can discuss about the things that you have similar interests him makes him feel seen and understood. For once someone actually knew what he would ramble and talk about, and the fact that you were extremely attractive just topped it all off.
Just as his mind was wondering, he heard soft footsteps slowly coming from the lair's entrance. He freezes, tries desperately to calm his nerves because he knows who those footsteps belong to. I mean it's only natural he memorizes even the sound of your footsteps because they're so different from others. You try your best to walk slowly as to not disturb the others, you notice the lair's quite silent today which is usually a good sign -it means nothing is wrong-
You spot donnie a mile away, how couldn't you anyways he was sitting in front of his tall glowing set of monitors. You smile sofly facing his back and increase your pace a little to reach him faster. By the time you're right behind him you practically skip towards his side, and lean back on his desk "hey don, so what is it you need fixing? lay it on me" you say while crossing your arms.
"well here take a look yourself y/n" he says and moves back a bit
You turn around and bend over a bit, grab his mouse and skim through the code "please tell me you see what I see" he exhales and says
"I see it" you nod slowly, you say while highlighting a specific part "did you try and change-"
"yup, already did" he replies and leans to the table as well "listen I tried practically everything to theoretically possible, and it doesn't work" he continues and puts his head on his hands looking down "I'm starting to think if I should just leave it that way"
You gasp, turn to to him and see how dejected he is "Donnie... don't say that! I'm here now so we can use double the brain power yea?" you say trying to cheer him up
He raises his head to look at you, and once again he is frozen. His eyes widen and his mouth opens a bit. He's practically starstruck. He wasn't able to get a proper look at you since you walked in but now he finally does and wow does it amaze him. You raise your brow and pull back a bit "don? you good?" you ask getting slightly more self conscious under his stare. He shakes his head "uh- I-I'm so sorry for that y/n I uh I... I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything it's just ah um.." he stutters out looking away feeling embarrassed for how he reacted. He sighs, straightens up and looks at you "you just... you look really good with glasses on.. y/n" he manages to get out and say to you against every warning from each and every fibers in his body. You're slightly taken aback by his compliment "oh.. well thank you donnie..." you say to him while subconsciously fixing your glasses' frames position.
He smiles softly at the sight of you, that was totally worth it he thought to himself. You fake cough and turn back to his monitor to stare at the code, and suddenly it hits you "oh my god" you say and move the keyboard to use "what? what is it? did you find it? tell me!" he says excitingly but also worriedly "shhh just watch" you say as you're hyper focused on the monitor in front of you and start deleting a bunch of stuff and writing a new code instead, fingers moving in tandem. After a few minutes of you tinkering the format, you finish and enter to start the program. "viola!" you exclaim and sigh while pulling back standing to look at your work, donnie just sits there in awe of what just happened. "I would have never thought of that..." he says and stares in disbelief seeing the program work even better than before now with your help.
You giggle and say "your welcome don" and pat his back "now you can rest well" you continue. He looks up at you from his chair still in awe mouth slightly open, just admiring not only your beauty but also your mind. "okay but you should really move a bit, I have a feeling you haven't changed your position the whole day" you tell him concerned "did you have something to eat yet?" you ask and he just shakes his head
"let's get some pizza to celebrate? let me call delivery" you say about to walk away but before you can turn around donnie grabs your arm, you jerk slightly surprised by the action. You can feel his hands around your arm and it sends fireworks through your whole being, up until this point you two have rarely shared physical contact on purpose. "donnie?" you ask tilting your head a bit. "Thank you y/n... really I appreciate it" he say hesitantly to you.
You smile at him and chuckle, you place your other hand n top of this "don't mention it don" you reply and slowly pull away to grab your phone and order some pizza.
Summary: Some night. Things were getting spicy, then all of a sudden a 3rd wheel interrupts before the secret is revealed. Donnie wasn't the only one with a secret, though. That stalker made it clear that he wants you. The turtles will not allow that. Han cannot be forgotten either. Let's do this.......
You were on the bus, ear phones in, closing off to the stupidity of the world around you. People sleeping along the windows, old folks talking about 'those days,' and the casual dipsticks who can seem to remember how to pull up their dang pants and underwear. Despite the weirdness, you were happy to know the courthouse was further away from where you lived. In case your stalker or Han is nearby, what good what it do if they came by the courthouse.
Today, you decided to ditch your glasses and use your contact lenses. After what that freak said, you felt it was appropriate for the time being until you felt comfortable, hopefully deeming you unrecognizable.
Last night was a drag. For 2 hours you struggled to sleep, your mind clouded by a tall, terrapin who wields a very high tech weapon, sporting some sexy cargo pants. The amount of times you leaked was on par with Anna from that dirty anime you watched a long time ago. Yet, you couldn't help but wonder: What exactly did he have to tell you? That hes not like other guys? Embarrassing habits? A cannibal? For the life of you, you couldn't put your finger on it. All you knew is that you had the hots for one of New York's finest heroes. You sighed. 2 older ladies have been watching you as you stood by the door, grinning. When your stop came, you wished them a good day and departed.
"Oh how fun it must feel to be young and in love." The elder woman says to her friend. She couldn't agree more.
"Shes had that smile on her face since she boarded. He must be a fine young man to make her smile so long. I bet hes a keeper!" The lady squeaks. Her and her friend sharing a giggle.
"That and maybe a dash of 'amorous congress." They giggle. The millennial on the bus heard and looked at each other, pulling out their phones to look up the definition of what these women meant. They shared looks and started laughing to themselves.
"Kids these days, they just don't understand." The woman whispered to her friend, shaking her head.
👵🏾👵🏿😏
"A-Chooo!" Donnie sneezed, wiping his nose as he went over the last known sightings of Han. Hes been keeping tabs, writing things down, and informing his brothers on anything and everything he finds in regards the disappearances. Then he got a call from April.
Donatello: Hey, April. What's up?
It was quiet for a few seconds to which in Donnie's mind was a sign that it was bad. He heard her sighing softly.
April: You may want to turn on the news. See for yourself.
Donnie quickly turned on the news to Channel 6. Just in time to catch a story. He called his brothers over to his monitors to see as well. What they discovered made them livid.
News Reporter: Shocking News today as the body of one of the victims that have gone missing recently has been discovered in the lake early this morning. Police suspect fowl play.
The reported interviewed a few police, who believe this is the work of Han and his crew, the Purple Dragons. Urging everyone to be on the lookout and to lock their doors. The guys dropped their heads. A life was taken under their watch. Leo knew he and his brothers had to double-down and tackle this full-throttle.
As Donnie listened, he had already pieced together the evidence. Your stalker is a member a con artist who fools women into believing whatever he comes up with. In your case, he played the card of a desperate college student in need to pass a test. The goons who accompanied him at the library, are also members who've been seen around your former residence dealing in some shady business. This enhanced his motivation and also scared him, because last night he felt like he was becoming closer to you. He didn't want to risk losing someone dear to him, yet he still struggled with how he should approach this new adventure. His heart broke for the woman who was found. Wishing he and his brothers could have done something. He didn't want that to happen to you!
April: Donnie are you there?
He had to shake himself out of his thoughts to respond.
Donatello: Yes. I'm here. Me and the guys are watching it.
April: Do you know where she is right now?
Donatello: She was at the courthouse. She said she was gonna get her license to carry. She mentioned getting a firearm as well.
April: You think you can check the cameras at her apartment and the library.
He began to do some typing on his monitors and pulled up the surveillance footage, recording at the library and your new apartment. He gasped in the phone.
April: Whatta you got, Donnie?
Donatello: Some goons are circling the outside perimeter. One of them kept watch while......
He tensed up and proceeded to look at the footage of your new apartment.
Donatello: I'm not seeing anyone at her new apartment place. Seems like the guard is taking his job seriously, for now.
April: My breaks almost over. You should contact her and let her know all the details.
Donatello: Alright. Thanks April, we'll talk soon.
The call ends and the news report ended. Leonardo turned to his brothers.
"We may have to do some heavy digging on this one. Meaning patrols are going to be much longer until this gang is no longer a threat." He announced.
"That's fine. We just made a new friend, I don't wanna lose her, ya know." Mikey adds, heart broken with the death of a missing person.
"Yeah. As long as punks like dat are out there, dis city ain't safe." Raph grumbles, fists clenched, teeth gnashing, ready to fight these thugs walking around town like they own it and the women who live in it.
Donnie was silent for the most part. Thinking of you and equally wanting to end this game of cat & mouse. His mind calculated the chances of you being found, taken away, and potentially never seen again. He couldn't allow that. He got on his phone and dialed you immediately.
📱📱📱
You were about to enter the gun store outside the city when you got a call on your phone. You rummage through your backpack to find your phone. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw it was Donatello. You pressed the answer button.
Y/N: Hello?
Donatello: Hey Y/N. It's me. You know, Donatello?
Y/N: Hi Donnie. I knew it was you. Your number is saved in my phone, remember?
You could hear snickering in the background, making you laugh a little.
Donatello: Sorry, I got the guys with me.
Michelangelo: Hey SweetCakes, hope I get to see you soon. I know Donnie does!
Raph shoves Mikey to the side, trying to get him to focus.
Leonardo: Hello, Y/N. Where are you right now?
Y/N: I'm just outside the gun shop, near the outskirts of the city. I was about to head in to look around. Why, what's up?
He began to explain to you how a missing woman was found dead in the lake, believing it's the work of the Purple Dragons. This shocked you. Broke you. Scared you. Giving you another reason to get a firearm and carry it.
Donatello: If you find anything, send me some pictures. I can give you a few thoughts and details. Making your decision easier.
Y/N: Sure. Okay. I don't know too much about guns so that would be helpful. Thank You, Donatello.
Raph smirked, Mikey made kissy noises, making Donnie even more nervous when talking to you.
Leonardo: Let us know when you're almost done. Night will fall soon.
Michelangelo: Maybe we can pick you up and take you home.
Y/N: I don't wanna be any more trouble than I've already been.
Raphael: It ain't you dats trouble. We gonna come get ya, take ya home, then go on patrol!
He was gruff and firm. He clearly wasn't taking no for an answer. Could you really say no? You were outside of the city and so far one person turned up dead. What are the odds of a member spotting you and taking you away too? You sighed.
Y/N: I'll let you know. Thank you all so much.
Donatello: Absolutely.
Before anything else was said, Mikey couldn't resist teasing a little more
Michelangelo: Don't worry. We ain't gonna let my bros girl get hurt. Not on our watch!
Your breath hitched at the comment, all of a sudden the turtle's constant bickering faded out as the thought came to mind: His girl? All of sudden last night's moment came back. It felt like Cupid was slapping you in the back of your head. Hollering at you. Telling you to stop being weird and get this man.
Donnie had enough of his brother's meddling. He felt their jobs were done so he broke away to talk to you in private in the dojo.
Donatello: Y/N, I am so sorry. My brothers can be a handful. And at times, idiotic.
Y/N: It's okay. You have an amazing family and I'm happy to know all of you. You don't have to apologize.
Donatello: Take your time looking around, send me the pictures and send me your location. So I know where to find you.
Y/N: Okay, Donnie. I'll send it now so you have it. You have no idea how much this means to me. I just want things to go back to normal.
Donatello: It will. It'll be alright.
Silence.
Y/N: Donnie?
Donatello: Yes, Y/N.
Y/N: When will we talk again? There's something I need to get off my chest.
He froze. He couldn't agree more. After doing numerous calculations, analyzing many things from every interaction hes had with you. Doing multiple studies, reading up on many possibilities. Him catching you in the library. You kissing his cheek. Inviting him and his brothers into your home. His purring when he was near you. Allowing him to upgrade the security systems. Your talents as a model and dancer. He came to one very shocking conclusion.
Donatello, The Brains of the group, is in love with you💜💜. He blinked a few times before answering.
Donatello: Soon. I have something to get off my chest too.
Y/N: Then maybe I'll see you soon?
Donatello: You Will.
You said your good-byes and hung up the phone. Rather than standing there looking like a love-crazy wild woman, you put your phone away and went inside the gun shop.
Donnie put his phone away, sighing.
"You can stop spying now, I've known you long enough to know what you smell like. Mikey." He barked, Mikey shrugging it off as if he expected nothing less.
"So ya gonna ask her out or not?" He went straight to it.
Donnie's brain kicked into overdrive as he once again went over the idea of you and him dating. Chance of societal acceptance: 2%. Risk of endangering you by association: High. Risk of heartbreak: inevitable. He even tried to dismiss the one thing he cannot prove wrong: the feeling. The connection. Mikey noticed what he was doing, shoving him.
"Don, she's diggin' you man. I see it. We all see it." He says.
"It's easy for you to say. By the end of the day, she's a human. I am a mutant turtle. Shes got her whole life ahead of her, I have a job to do that involves protecting this city. That's not gonna change!"
"Why does it have to? She already accepted you, us, what we do, what we are. What more is there to figure out? I thought she was your clarity." Though Mikey made strong points, he doesn't know Donnie's been peeping in on you without your knowledge. He was also annoyed that Mikey was the one eavesdropping on his spar with Leonardo recently. It was complicated, but he couldn't continue this train ride of guilt either. He had to tell her soon. "You can calculate a lot of things, but you can't prove genuine love wrong. Think about that man. We leave soon. Be ready for your confession." He threw up the deuce sign and left. Says a lot of the youngest and funniest one is dishing out the facts. He felt defeated and troubled.
🌆🌆🌆
You finished at the gun shop and sent a few options to Donnie. As you sat on the stairs, waiting outside, the wind blew through your braids. You had no glasses on and it felt nice for a change. After what that creep said, you wanted to give your glasses a break. The sun was disappearing, people began looking at you as if you were bumming money off the street. You figured you'd pass the time playing your favorite game.
After a few minutes of playing Temple Run, you look up and notice a garbage truck pull up. You could see Donnie's hand waving at you. Then another set of hands, assuming it was Mikey. After checking around, you get up and enter the truck through the side door. Leo politely moved to give you room to enter. You and Donnie had another moment as he saw your attire. Your long, black braided hair in a ponytail, a lovely white blouse, blue jeans, and black Sketchers. The only thing missing was your glasses. You headed to the back, greeted by Raph punching his bag and Mikey messing with Donnie's controls.
"Hey SweetCakes, you ready?" You nodded, giving a thumbs up.
"I'm ready." You replied with a smile.
The ride was smooth. You and Mikey talked about different events going on in the city. His curiosity was amusing you so much you showed him a few of your dancing videos. Raph found your talent interesting, though he verbalized he wouldn't be caught dead doing performances on social media. You shared a good laugh, while also admiring Donnie as he drove. You weren't a passenger today but you got a good view of him driving. For some reason it had you riled. To add to the heat, the videos you were playing were the exact ones he saved in his secret file. He gulped when he heard the music.
'Her best work and I can hear it from it!' He felt tortured.
When they arrived at your place, something was off. Leonardo noticed some sketchy characters roaming around the building. With what happened, he didn't want to take any chances.
"Donnie, scan these guys. Y/N, we can't risk your safety. We have no choice but to bring you back to the lair for the night. I apologize for the inconvenience." He says in a very stern way. This was upsetting, but you didn't wanna go missing either. You couldn't get your firearm today because you don't have your license. This was going to be a challenge. Mikey and Raph seemed to be okay with it. Donnie's shell began to tighten at the thought.
'Oh no. She's gonna stay at the lair! The possibility of something happening is 79.9%. This cannot be happening, yet I can't seem to resist her.' His thoughts were getting the best of him again as she tapped his shoulder.
"Donnie, are you okay?" You were concerned. You knew he worked hard to piece together all the evidence to get to the bottom of this. You felt scared enough. You didn't want to make it worse either. He turns to you.
"I'm alright. Just gotta open the hatch so we don't get spotted." He responded. Something was strange with him, you sensed it.
They finally returned to the lair. Donnie helped you out of the truck, showing you their humble abode. Their place both fascinated you and saddened you. Reading up on turtles, at least some turtle species, people literally dump them in ponds or sewers because they can't properly take care of them. However, in Donnie and his brother's case, they're walking, talking ninjas who've managed very well.
"This is really cool. It's like your own personal mansion. Yinz really decked this place out well." You complimented, Donnie was grinning from ear to ear.
"Thanks. Much of it comes from the dumpsters or the junkyard, but......oh." Donnie caught himself. Realizing that some females may think that's disgusting fishing stuff from the trash. Your reaction was the opposite of what he assumed.
"As they say, one person's trash is another person's treasure. I see a lot of treasure here. Very well put together." You looked at him with a smile. Raph and Mikey having their side moments while Leonardo gave you some space. Donnie takes your hand and leads you to his lab, while Leonardo informs his father of your presence.
Donnie takes you to his room and you were beside yourself as you took in his entire set up. You had a good amount of questions, to which he was happy to answer. How he managed to hook everything up. How long it took to put this together. What other pieces he needed to get it up and running. Your questions amused him. His brain was scattered beyond belief at the notion of having the female hes infatuated with admiring his hardwork.
"You really are amazing, Donnie. I feel bad that it's come to this. You probably see me as a nuisance by now." Your head drops to the floor, eyes escaping his. He couldn't believe you said such a thing.
"Don't feel bad. You're a citizen who needs to be protected just like the others who are out there right now." He blurts out as he raises his hands.
"Thank you. I really don't know how else to repay your kindness." He takes you by the hand, your eyes meeting his.
"You allowing us to help you is payment enough. When I return, we'll discuss more about......" He swallowed and started fidgeting his suspenders. You found him cute when he was flustered.
"About.......us?" You answered. He nodded slowly, he still held your hand.
As if there was a magnetic force pulling in, you 2 suddenly started inching closer to one another, he glanced down at your lips, curling his. You squeezed his hand gently, as his snout was getting closer to your nose. Then you were interrupted by Leonardo announcing their departure.
"We leave soon guys!" He said out loud. You 2 blinked a few times, before pulling back. He rubbed the back of his neck as you brushed a lose braid out of your face. Raph came to the lab to give a reminder. Already having a feeling that something was gonna happen between you and his brother.
"Since she's here, may as well have her meet dad." Raph gruffed, putting his sais away. You tilted your head.
"Your.....dad?" You eked out, the guys nodded.
"Don't worry. He may be intimidating but hes a real chill guy. You're gonna love em." Mikey reassured you. It was in that moment where a large rat, walking upright, sporting a robe, eyes beaming at you in an unreadable way. His paws were behind his back, he looked at his sons.
"Is this the female I've been hearing about?" He asks, ears twitching. Donnie started to feel nervous, he was stressing enough that their had been a change of plans now you were at his place, meeting his father.
"Yes, Sensei. She lives in the apartment next to the manhole." Leonardo responded. Splinter looked at you, circled you. It felt like you were being silently interrogated. You had no fear in your eyes or behavior.
"My name is Splinter. Who might you be, my child?" His tone was soothing and kind, you answered.
"My name is Y/N. It's nice to meet you. I'm sorry for the intrusion." You spoke respectfully to the older rat. You've done a lot of reading on many rodents. But, rats are up there when it comes to intelligence. He had the vibe that he should not be messed with or disrespected. You treated him the way you would treat any human or animal: With Respect.
"The guys near the building were wearing purple colors. Seems like they're spreading to other terroritories of the city." Donnie announced after looking on his hologram screen, finding a match to one of the goons. This frightened you. Splinter stepped to you, taking your hand into his paws, patting it gently.
"Stay as long as you need. You are safe here. I was just going to have some tea, won't you join me?" He points his hand to what you assumed was his quarters. You nodded politely with a smile. With what you learned today, you weren't very tired and the tomorrow is a weekend so it gives you a chance to lie low and breathe, hopefully. Donnie couldn't fall any deeper in love with you at that moment. The percentage of women who would most likely freak out at meeting Splinter is between 45-55%. Yet, you were unfazed and chill. Only 3-5% of women would react the way you did.
Before following Splinter into his quarters, you looked back at the turtles,"Please be safe out there." You muttered, their eyes lit up with how much you cared for them. They were touched.
"Don't worry, Sweets. We got this." Mikey replied with a cocky smirk. Raph, Leo, and Donnie gave a nod, disappearing into the tunnels.
"Let's move. We gotta get to the bottom of this before someone else gets hurt. Let's move." Leonardo orders, coaxing the others to follow.
🌃🌃🌃
They made it up top, scaling the building where the goons were last spotted. The guys looked over the entire area until Mikey spotted one of them.
"There goes one of them. Looks like hes in a big hurry to get somewhere." Leo notices and a few other goons that were nearby.
"Follow them. Where ever they go, Han may be there." They all got the picture and started running from rooftop to rooftop, keeping up with the suspected kidnappers.
After an 1 hour of following, the turtles found themselves in Little Italy. The area was known for Mafia activity so it made since that the goons would go there at night. The turtles saw the goons escape into an aisle, they were posted above the building where they saw a much large punk standing outside the door. The goons approached them, holding up 3 fingers before entering.
"Simple enough. That's the password or somethin?" Mikey whispered, Raph found it convenient in a sense to where they already have 3 digits. But they weren't human nor would they dare think of joining a street gang.
"It appears so. I'm going to use my thermal scans to look through the building. Wait, I see an opening, I'll call my drone in to infiltrate the inside. We should be able to get some juicy information regarding these Purple Dragons." Donnie pressed a few buttons on his wrist controller, summoning the drone instantly, maneuvering it into the broken window 8ft above the guards head. He didn't suspect a thing. Donnie pushed a few more buttons, pulled up his hologram screen, and presto, he and his brothers had a full view of the hideout of the Purple Dragons. There were so many of them. They estimate a total of 30 members filling the bleachers of an abandoned gymnasium.
Donnie's drone found the perfect spot on the ceiling bars that overlooks the entire group. There was a boxing ring, bleachers filled with low-life thugs, punks, even hoodrats. Donnie adjusted the volume and the signal so they could see and hear clearly. It was noisy with the members rambling and rough housing. The noise intensified as the one behind the whole operation made his appearance, Han.
The guys watched from outside, studying Han's features from his tattoo to the muscles he seems to be proud of. He raises his hands, motioning for everyone to quiet down.
"Alright you Street rats, lets get down to business. Snakes!" He shouted, everyone made room for the one they called 'Snakes.' The look of anger on Donnie's face when he realized it was the same guy whose been stalking and harassing you!
"Son. Your a pro. No records. No arrests. No papers in the system. You will be my second in-command. And with that responsibility comes the proper woman. Have you located her?" He asked, the guys stilled themselves, thinking of you.
'Did he just call him 'son?' Man some family.' Raph thought to himself.
"Not yet. I got some guys keeping an eye out for her. With the amount of knowledge she has. Not to mention the talent. She'll be another beneficial asset to the group." This puzzled the turtles a bit as to what exactly they needed you for. Han smirked, motioning for the goons to bring out their newest assets. The turtles were shocked to see that the assets were in fact the missing females that have been abducted. The women were dragged out by members to the stage, mouths taped shut, flaunted for the gang to see, afraid for their lives knowing they're in the clutches of the Purple Dragons.
"Well, we have a computer hacker and a banker in our midst. Too bad the get-away driver skeezer didn't work out." He cackled, the turtles could hear the wave of mutters and snickers in the crowd. "She put up one heck of a fight, though!"
There it was. A confession that Han was responsible for the murder of the female that was on the news. Their hearts were filled with rage and sorrow. This sadistic man had little to no contrition on his face. As if the woman didn't matter to the world at all. Leonardo sighed.
"Disgraceful!" He growled. Han continued rants.
"Continue to look, she has access to a lot of documents to that raggedy library. She has brains that we need for this operation. Not to mention the moves she has and being an up and coming model." Han couldn't have given them anymore than they already had. The group was expanding themselves in a way to pull of a huge heist. Donnie growled lowly as he listened to Han and the others cheer for the gangs future plans.
"They're not taking her!" He mumbled.
"I would like to make an announcement to everyone hear!" Snakes shouted, everyone quieted down, he motioned for one of the goons to come forth. It was the one who was there when you were being harassed by Snakes in the library and he did nothing. Snakes turned to him, looked him up and down then turned back to the crowd.
"The girl I'm lookin' for. My girl. She is mine. So when you see her on my arm, cross da street!" He swiftly pulls out his pistol and shot his goon directly in the face. Killing him instantly. The turtles turned their heads away as the guy fell to the ground, dead. The captive women were in shock. One even fainting. Han smiled while Snakes turned back to the bewildered crowd,"Otherwise your faces will be blown off just like his! We clear on that!" Their was silence, Han clapped for his son.
"Now this is what a true leader looks like!" He patted Snakes on the shoulder. Leonardo felt insulted, knowing that what that misguided punk did was not even in the proximity of being a leader. This guy wasn't just crazy, he was a killer. And you were in his radar.
"Donnie, get the cops on the line and have them come to this location. Then we head back!" Leo ordered, Raph looked at him.
"What the Shell! We should go in their and crack some frickin' skulls!" He argued, Mikey was still in shock that he witnessed a murder.
"Then what, Raph? Get ambushed and potentially killed too!? We need to do this right. We already have the footage, Donnie's gonna forward it to the Chief and hope for the best." He says, Donnie was all over it contacting the police, informing them of the Purple Dragons whereabouts.
His mind was overwhelming him with thoughts of you and your safety. He only half confessed to you and your life was in danger. He finished up his call, forwarded the footage to the Chief, turning to Mikey who was angered with what he witnessed.
"Did you see his face?" He grumbled,"It’s like he didn't care. Like he was nothing. So cold-blooded" Donnie heard the growl in his voice, Donnie felt it too.
"His facial expressions and body language show an apathetic killer. A sociopath. Obviously remorseful." Donnie described Snakes to a T.
"Da guy was with him in da library when...." Leo halted the conversation before it could anger the group even more causing tempers to flare and their boundaries crossed.
"We better get back now before the police arrive, from the looks of it, these clowns may be here for a little while longer." Leo said leaving the scene. Donnie called his drone back to him and they all left.
🚷🚷🚷
You were having a conversation with Splinter and have gotten comfortable with him quickly. Hes shown great hospitality and kindness during your stay. Doing his best to reassure you that his son's are on the job, while also getting to know the woman whose invaded his son's heart.
"A model, you say? And a dancer? Interesting indeed." He says, his tail pouring another cup of tea. You smile, feeling a little bashful.
"Yes. Dancing is a form of workout for me and the kids I teach are very driven. It's kind of my escape." You take a sip of tea, looking the other way. Splinter noticed your moods shifting, standing up and walking towards the dojo.
"I believe Donatello has a radio in his room. Bring it to the dojo." He says, walking away. You caught onto what he wanted, so you quickly ran to Donnie's room to find a radio. He had so much stuff it was difficult to find anything. As you looked you giggled at the many scribbles scattered about Donnie's room. Many of them were equations and different formulas. A few doodles that looked good enough to be submitted in a contest.
"He can draw. That's a good talent." You said to yourself, when you found the radio, you came across something else. A purple notebook with scribbles on the front cover, tucked away in his bed. You were already invading the sanctity of his room by taking his radio, your curiosity got the best of you and you opened it. Your eyes bulged when you saw the doodles and pictures hes been drawing.
"Is that.......is that me?" You whispered. Hes been drawing pictures of you in a suggestive way. He got your braids and face just right. He was very strategic with the eyes. You flipped through the book some more coming across a picture that shocked you. It was an image of you in your bathtub, legs straddling the faucet as the running water pleasured you. As you studied the image, you made a jaw dropping discovery.
The background was similar to the background to your other residence. The image looked as if someone was watching you. Your heart sank.
"He was there? Watching me. He saw me like that. I wonder if this was what he needed to tell me." You mumbled as you closed the book and put it back in it's proper place. Of all the things you had to discover, this was the last thing you wanted to know. Some women would probably flip their script and trash the place out of sheer anger. Yet, you didn't feel angry. Instead, you had something else in mind. You collected the radio and went to the dojo.
30 minutes later, the guys returned. Put their weapons away, immediately hearing the sound of music nearby.
"What's that music?" Leo asked, his guard completely up after what he witnessed.
"Sounds like it's comin' from da dojo." Raph walks towards the sound, inching himself close to the doorway. He was amazed, motioning with his hands for his brothers to come forth and check it out. They saw you dancing while Splinter sat calmly on the side.
Donnie's shell tightened as he watched you perform. He could tell you were focused and poised with your movements. The music was unique and seemed to be your style as you executed great balance and form.
'Shes a bookworm, model, and dancer. I want her so badly!' The thought bouncing around in his head.
Raph and Mikey smirked as they sensed how much Donnie was enjoying your routine. It looked like a dance you'd teach a group of kids. Leonardo was impressed by your talents yet the image of what they saw was haunting him. There was now people dead by this gang and he was concerned you'd be next.
Splinter sensed a presence right away using his tail to drag out the first intruder. Mikey pushed Donnie outward so Splinter's tail would nab him first. It worked as he was yanked into the dojo
"Thanks guys, real smooth." He murmurs, agitated with his brother's shenanigans as they share a high five. You turn to see Donnie at your feet looking up at you. That same feeling you had at your place came back, only this time it was much stronger.
He stood up, towering over you. Splinter cleared his throat breaking the spell.
"Ms. Y/N is very gifted. I appreciate you sharing your talents with me. You should rest here for tonight. Michelangelo, get her some warm clothes to wear." Mikey peaked out, giving a thumbs up, before leaving.
Leo suggested you go to your place, collect a few things since you'll be staying the night. It was suggested Raph accompany you while Donnie and Leo discuss with Splinter about what they found out.
Raph had to make sure the coast eas clear before entering your place. You made haste so not to take too long. Raph seemed off as if something was bothering him.
"How was patrol?" You asked with a bit of hesitation. He audibly exhaled.
"It was rough. That's all I gotta say." He left it at that, signaling it's time to go. This worried you even more knowing theres a thug on the streets who wants you. He wasn't gonna make it worse by telling you they witnessed your stalker murdering someone. Raph held you close as he jumped down to the manhole, escaping before anyone noticed.
When you returned, your mind was in knots trying to figure out what that man wanted from you. At first, you thought it was a crazed maniac with a crush now you knew he wanted more. You thanked Raph then retreated into Donnie's room. You dug through your bag and found the book you wanted to read before you went to sleep.
📖📖📖
Splinter sighed as his sons finished what they had to witness, reeling at the huge danger you were in, making a decision.
"She stays here until further notice." He says, this troubles Leonardo in a way knowing Donnie has a thing for you. But, decided to go with it for now, hoping this doesn’t blow up in their faces.
"You are dismissed, Leonardo. I would like a word with Donatello." Leo nods, leaving the dojo. Splinter studies Donnie's body language.
"It has been brought to my attention that you may have feelings for this woman? Am I wrong, my son?" Splinter calmy asks, Donnie kept his cool despite eavesdropping.
"No, sensei. You're not."
"However.......?" Splinter could tell he was struggling from his shifting feet.
"Shes in enough danger already. I don’t want to make it worse by associating myself with her more." He explains, Splinter could tell he was blocking his feelings.
"I have noticed a postive change in you as of late. This pleases me." He looks to Donnie, smirking,"I trust you will know what to do. No matter what you decide, I will respect it." He responds, patting Donnie's shell before leaving to his quarters. Donnie sat there with his thoughts. With what he witnessed, he had to find a way to protect you. After a few moments, he retreated to his room.
Upon entering, he saw you snuggled up in his bed, sleeping so peacefully. For a moment, he was awestruck with the realization that their was a human female sleeping in his bed! You wore a large jersey that Mikey left for you. Even when you were asleep, you looked like an angel. He was about to begin work on the computer when he noticed the book you were reading. It looked like one of those manga books where you begin on the opposite end opposed to how America's books and comics are made.
He could tell that you pretty much read yourself to sleep, with the book loosely in your hands. He carefully slid the book out of your grasp and looked it over. He was stunned.
The cover showed a woman on the back of a large snake! The title reading ,"The Girl Who Married the Big Snake." He crooked brow and started to skim through the book. What he came across took his breath away. His heart thumped hard against his chest as he realized the female character developed an intimate relationship with a large reptile. He looked at you then back at the book. After a few pages, he closed the book, his hand across his chest.
'She.....does she really.....want me? In that way? Is it possible....?' So many thoughts ran through his mind, then you began to stir, he stiffened himself.
"D....Don.......Donnie.....Donatello." You said his name in your sleep. The female he fell for, accepting him and his brothers, sleeping in his bed, calling his name! He felt like he won something huge. He placed the book on the nightstand beside your head, turning towards the computer, with a mission in mind.
"One way or another. I will protect you. No one is going to take you from me. I swear it!" With that in mind, he began to work on his computers, summoning the drone to make some adjustments, looking over the gun choices you made while at the gunshop, all while you sleep peacefully.
Painted four more Bay TMNT's and I think I did pretty well. Definitely more progress, and I'm learning new techniques, using new brushes and getting the hang of these paints better. I've still got work to do, but I'm proud of what I've done.
Individuals under the cut.
Messing around with more Photoshop. Raph is really hard to do and I wanted to try to give him more of a brow ridge, but my skills aren’t there. Leo and Mike are the easiest to do as they don’t have much covering their faces. My beloved Don is harder with the glasses, but I made an attempt. I was going to take the glasses off, but then his eyes would look sort of weird.
He finds you in the quiet corner of the lair, shoulders trembling ever so slightly, your face turned just enough that he sees the glint of tears on your cheeks.
Raph freezes. At first, he just watches—heart thudding hard in his chest, caught off-guard by the raw sight of you crying. Then the adrenaline kicks in.
“Who did it?” he asks, voice low and already dangerous, fists clenched at his sides like he’s about to throw hands with the air itself. “Who the hell made ya cry like this?”
You scramble to wipe your face, laughing all awkwardly to calm the situation. “It’s nothing,” you sniff, waving him off. “I just… got some dirt in my eye.”
Raph narrows his eyes like he’s just been told the most insulting lie in the history of lies.
“Some dirt my ass.”
He spins on his heel like a bloodhound catching a scent, already storming around the lair like a security system just got triggered. “Was it Mikey? I swear if he made another dumb joke—no, no wait, was it that punk Vern? Did he say something to you again? ‘Cause I got no problem payin’ him a little visit—”
“Raph—Raph, stop!” You grab the back of his shell before he can stomp up the ladder. He turns to look at you, scowl softened just enough to reveal the worry etched behind it.
“Yer seriously gonna tell me ‘dirt’ made ya look like that?” he mutters. “Come on. Ya don’t gotta lie to me.”
His voice is quieter now. Frustrated, yeah—but protective. That hard shell of his cracking just a little for you.
You shake your head and give him a small smile. “I just needed a moment. But I’m okay now. Promise.”
He doesn’t believe you. Not really. But he huffs and folds his arms, settling beside you like a bulldog on high alert.
“Fine. Ya don’t wanna talk? Cool. But I ain’t movin’.”
(｡· v ·｡) ?
You glance at him.
“I’m stayin’ right here. Just in case the ‘dirt’ comes back.”
