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Secret Santa, Double Trouble
Story Prompt: “Secret Santa” [NSFW]
“Raphael x Fem!Reader x Michelangelo” (Sunset Duo x Fem!Reader)
(Cover Art by ThePinkPanther83)
🧺 Prompt: Secret Santa – This can be anything from a gift swap to a secret admirer. Turtle tots, turtles with tots, or even tots finding out about turtles. Anything. ‘Tis the season of giving, and all ideas are welcome!
CW: Here there be cloaca's! Oral sex male and female receiving, thigh riding, penis in vagina sex, unprotected sex, cum swallowing. Not T-Cest! 🤣
💌 Author’s Note: This fic was written for @thelaundrybitch’s December TMNT Writing Challenge, “Secret Santa”, marking my seventh month participating in her fun prompts. Laundry, thank you, as always, for continuing to challenge and menace us with ideas that refuse to be small. And to everyone who clicked on, read, and stuck around, thank you endlessly. Your support, comments, and enthusiasm mean more to me than I can ever properly put into words. I hope this little holiday chaos made you smile. 💚🐢🎄 ~Pinkie 🍒
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❤️🎁🧡 Summary: December in the lair means tangled lights, half-finished decorations, and Michelangelo fully embracing holiday chaos. When a Secret Santa gift exchange begins, you start receiving presents that feel a little too thoughtful… and a little too personal. The only problem? You’re pretty sure they’re not coming from just one turtle. What starts as playful mystery slowly turns into something deeper, as unspoken feelings surface beneath the glow of Christmas lights and the hum of the city above. Sometimes, the best surprises come in pairs.
Click "Keep Reading" below the cut to read. 😘
Secret Santa, Double Trouble
The lair, as usual in this time of the year, smelled like pine needles, pizza grease, and piss poor decision-making.
That was your first clue that something had gone very wrong.
You stood on a step stool in the middle of the living space, arms raised, wrestling with a string of Christmas lights that had somehow knotted themselves into a glowing, spiteful mess. Half the bulbs blinked. The other half were aggressively green.
Below you, Michelangelo laid back on his shell, holding up the extension cord like it was some sort of sacred artifact.
“Okay, don’t panic,” he said, far too cheerfully. “This happens every year.”
“This happens every year because you refuse to wrap the lights properly,” you shot back, tugging at a stubborn knot. “I swear, Mikey, these things were straight when I grabbed them.”
“That’s what they want you to think,” he replied gravely. “Christmas lights are sentient. Vengeful. Honestly, this is on Donnie for not inventing self-untangling bulbs yet.”
“Wow,” you said. “Bold words from someone who taped a candy cane with duct tape to the microwave and called it ‘festive.’”
Mikey gasped, sitting up so fast he nearly yanked the cord from the wall. “Excuse you. That was conceptual décor.”
You laughed despite yourself, but this was how it always went. You could be mid-complaint, mid-task, mid-why do I now live with four mutant turtles crisis, and Mikey would say something ridiculous, and suddenly it didn’t matter anymore.
He popped up beside you a second later, chin resting on your shoulder as he peered up at the lights. “You know,” he murmured, “if you fall, I will absolutely catch you. Very heroically. Possibly with a fancy spin.”
“You are not spinning with me in your arms,” you said, though you didn’t move away from him.
“Chicken.”
From the couch by your side, Raphael watched the whole exchange in silence, arms crossed, posture relaxed in a way that fooled no one who really knew him. His eyes tracked the wobble of the stool. The way Mikey hovered too close. The way your balance shifted when you laughed at his jokes.
“Careful,” Raph said at last, his voice low. “Stool’s crooked.”
You glanced over at him. “It is not.”
“It is,” he replied calmly. “Left leg’s shorter.”
Mikey frowned. “How do you even notice that?”
Raph shrugged. “I look.”
Before you could argue, Raph’s hand was on the stool, steadying it with quiet certainty. The movement was small, casual, protective in a way he’d never want to call attention to.
Your breath eased without you realizing it had tightened.
“See?” Mikey said smugly. “Team effort. Christmas miracle.”
Raph shot him a look. “You’re still not in charge of decorations.”
“Temporary setback,” Mikey said. “The night is young.”
You finally freed the lights with a victorious tug, holding them up like a trophy. “Ha! Behold. Order from chaos.”
Mikey grinned at you like you’d just hung the star on top of the tree at Rockefeller Center yourself.
Raph’s mouth twitched… just barely.
Somewhere between the blinking lights, the laughter, and the way both brothers’ attention stayed locked on you, the lair felt warmer than it had a moment ago.
Christmas, it seemed, had officially begun.
The rest of the afternoon blurred into a frenzy of holiday prep. Leo orchestrated the tree trimming with military precision, barking orders like a general while Donnie tinkered with a gadget that promised to make the ornaments levitate… spoiler, it short-circuited and sent fake snow exploding across the floor. You and Mikey mopped up the mess, giggling as Raph grumbled from the sidelines, occasionally handing over tools with a grunt that passed for encouragement.
By evening, the lair transformed. Strings of lights draped the concrete walls, casting a soft glow over the mismatched furniture. A lopsided tree stood proud in the corner, topped with a cardboard box star Mikey had fashioned from a pizza box and tinfoil painted with yellow highlighters. The air hummed with the scent of Splinter's eggnog, spiked just enough for you to still handle easily, and the faint twang of holiday tunes piping from Donnie's jury-rigged speakers.
Everyone gathered in the main room, sprawled on cushions and the worn couch. Splinter perched on his favorite armchair, a serene smile creasing his face as his whiskers twitched, he surveyed his sons and their human companion. You squeezed between Mikey and Raph on the couch, feeling the solid warmth of Raph's plastron against your side and Mikey's playful nudge with his elbow.
Donnie cleared his throat, standing at the center like a professor about to unveil a theorem. He held a battered Santa hat in one hand and a stack of folded papers in the other. “Alright, family,” he began, adjusting his glasses with a flourish. “To add some structure to our festivities, and because Mikey begged for it… We're doing a Secret Santa exchange this year.”
Mikey whooped, pumping his fist in the air. “Yes! Secret Santa! This is gonna be epic!” He bounced in his seat, nearly jostling you into Raph's lap.
Raph snorted and crossed his arms tight over his plastron. “Secret Santa? What are we, kids? Pass.”
Donnie ignored him, plowing ahead with the enthusiasm of someone who'd spent the afternoon coding the name-drawing algorithm. “The rules are simple, anonymous draws, thoughtful gifts only, no prank items or last-minute pizza vouchers. Budget's twenty bucks max, sourced from our collective funds, handmade presents are a bonus. No revealing your identity until the big reveal on Christmas Eve night. We'll draw names now and have until then to shop or craft.”
He shook the Santa hat, the papers inside rustling like conspiratorial whispers. One by one, everyone reached in, Splinter first, his draw met with a nod of quiet approval; Leo next, unfazed as ever; then you, pulling a slip that read 'Michelangelo' in Donnie's neat scrawl. Mikey for you? Easy. You already had ideas bubbling, something fun, personal, maybe a custom skateboard decal with a cheeky holiday twist. But you thought it would be nice to get each brother a gift also, either way.
Mikey dove in headfirst, literally, his hand vanishing up to the forearm. He emerged triumphant, clutching his paper like it held the codes to the universe. “Oh man, this is perfect! I'm gonna nail this. Thoughtful, anonymous, mind-blowing. My giftee's gonna freak… in a good way!” His eyes sparkled with manic energy, already plotting. “Do we have glitter? Finger paints? Oh, wait… is edible underwear too much?”
You elbowed him. “Mikey, thoughtful. Not... whatever that is.”
He winked at you. “Thoughtful and fun, sweetheart. You'll see.”
Leo chuckled, folding his draw away. “Just don't turn it into a circus, Mikey.”
“Circus? This is holiday magic!” Mikey countered, launching into an impromptu list, pros and cons of gift-wrapping techniques, debates on whether mistletoe counted as décor or sabotage. He was all in, gears turning visibly behind those bright baby blue eyes, turning a simple exchange into a full-blown operation.
Raph rolled his eyes. “This is stupid. Buncha grown men playin' with names in a hat. I'm out.” He shifted, his thigh pressing firmer against yours as if anchoring himself against the tide of cheer.
Donnie arched a brow, holding out the hat. “Come on, Raph. It's a tradition. Builds camaraderie.”
“Yeah, right. Camaraderie, my ass.” But Raph's gaze flicked to you, then away, jaw tightening. The room waited, the air thick with unspoken challenge. Splinter sipped his eggnog, watching with that knowing glint.
With a huff that echoed off the walls, Raph snatched the hat and yanked out the last paper. He unfolded it slowly, green eyes narrowing at the name. “Fine. Whatever.” He crumpled it in his fist.
Mikey leaned over you to slap Raph's shoulder. “That's the spirit, bro! Secret Santa squad, assemble!”
Raph shoved him away. “Touch me again, and you're drawin' your own name next year.”
You smiled, warmth spreading through you as the group dissolved into chatter. Donnie recapped the rules one more time for good measure, Mikey brainstorming out loud about 'epic reveals,' and Raph... well, Raph just sat there, solid and brooding, his presence a quiet promise amid the holiday chaos.
The next few days passed in a flurry of secretive activity. Mikey had taken to sneaking around the lair with a suspiciously large duffel bag, dodging questions with exaggerated winks and finger guns. Meanwhile, Raph had been unusually quiet, more so than usual, spending long hours in his room, or the dojo, or even just disappearing into the city without a word.
But back in that moment, right after the draw, Mikey's mind had raced ahead like a freight train on holiday express. As Raph crumpled his paper and shoved him away, Mikey flopped back onto the couch, a grin splitting his face wide. Oh. Oh, this is how I win Christmas. He'd pulled your name, just pure luck, or maybe holiday fate, and now he had the perfect shot. Gifts that would make you blush, laugh, maybe even pull him into a mistletoe ambush. No more of Raph's brooding shadow stealing the spotlight. This was his arena, fun, flirty, unforgettable. He'd craft something epic, drop hints like snowflakes, and by reveal time, you'd be seeing stars, orange ones, specifically.
Raph, on the other hand, played it cool in front of everyone. “Yeah, right. Camaraderie, my ass,” he'd muttered earlier, but that was all bluster. The paper in his fist burned with Leo's name… fearless leader, eternal pain in his ass. Thoughtful gift? For Leo? He'd grab some fancy sword polish or a meditation scroll, or whatever. But as the chatter died down and the group scattered, Raph lingered on the couch, your warmth still ghosting his side. He didn't care. Not about some dumb exchange. Not about Mikey turning it into a clown show. Except... he did. The way your eyes lit up, pulling your draw, the laugh that bubbled out when Mikey hyped his plans, it twisted something in his gut. Alone later that night, slamming through a heavy bag in the dojo until his knuckles ached, Raph admitted it to the empty air. He cared. Too damn much. And if Mikey was gunning for you with whatever goofy surprise he cooked up, Raph wasn't about to sit back. Leo's gift was mandatory. But you? You'd get something from him too… anonymous, under the radar. Something real. Something that said what his words never could. He'd hit the city, find materials, and make it himself. No way was he letting his baby brother outshine him.
Neither brother clocked the overlap, of course. Mikey holed up in the kitchen, sketching wild ideas on napkins, scented candles shaped like shells, a playlist of cheesy carols mixed with surf rock, convinced he had the inside track. Raph vanished into shadowed alleys up top, scavenging leather scraps and a small carving tool from a forgotten junk shop, his mind fixed on crafting without a trace leading back. Splinter noticed the tension, a subtle arch of his brow over tea, but said nothing. Leo drilled katas with extra focus, Donnie buried himself in lab tweaks. You navigated the lair's sudden cloak-and-dagger vibe, wrapping Mikey's gift in secret, a glow-in-the-dark skate grip etched with turtle power symbols, while wondering at the hush that followed Raph like a storm cloud.
It started innocently enough, two days before Christmas Eve. You returned from a quick supply run topside, arms laden with tinsel and a fresh stack of holiday DVDs, to find a small package waiting on your bed. No tag, no note, just red wrapping paper tied with a plain white string, tucked against your pillow as if it belonged there. Your heart skipped a beat, curiosity buzzing as you shut your door.
You peeled back the paper carefully, revealing a small wooden box. Inside was a handmade bracelet. It was simple, sturdy leather with a single charm, a tiny, intricately carved turtle shell. The edges were rough-hewn, like it'd been shaped by callused hands in a rush of focus, the leather worn soft from what felt like real use. It fit perfectly when you slipped it on, the weight grounding, the shell charm cool against your wrist. A Secret Santa drop? Early? You glanced around the empty room, half-expecting Mikey to pop out with jazz hands, but nothing. Just the faint scent of oil and city grit clinging to the box, and a warmth that settled deep inside you, untraceable. You smiled, tracing the carving with your thumb, unaware of the green-eyed shadow slipping away, mission accomplished… for now.
The next morning, you woke to the sound of something sliding under your door. A small bundle, a bright orange envelope with little doodles of Christmas trees and skateboards along the edges, and attached to it by a thin ribbon, a quirky keychain. The charm dangled playfully, a miniature skateboard etched with a grinning turtle face, painted in bold orange and green, the kind of handmade trinket that screamed Mikey's chaotic creativity. You scooped it up, fingers brushing the smooth edges, a giggle escaping as you imagined him hunched over it late at night, tongue poking out in concentration.
When you opened the envelope, the handwriting was unmistakably Mikey's, all loopy, energetic, and punctuated with little hearts.
"Yo, Angelcakes! Secret Santa’s got NOTHIN’ on me. Meet me at the skate ramp after breakfast. Wear something cozy. And bring that sweet smile of yours. ;) Your FAVORITE Turtle."
You could practically hear his voice as you read it, the playful lilt, the way he’d wink if he were standing there. The bracelet from last night still sat snug on your wrist, the shell charm catching the dim light. Two gifts? Wait… was Mikey your Secret Santa? But then who left the bracelet?
Down in the kitchen, Mikey was already in full holiday chaos mode, flipping pancakes shaped like snowmen while singing Jingle Bell Rock off-key. He spun when you walked in, spatula in hand. "Mornin’, sunshine! You get my note?" His grin was wide, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
Before you could answer, Raph’s voice cut in from the doorway, gruff and dry. "Yeah, we all got your note. Loud and clear." He leaned against the frame, arms crossed, his usual scowl in place, but his gaze flicked to your wrist for half a second, then away.
Mikey gasped, pointing the spatula at Raph. "You peeked?! Bro, that’s against the rules!"
Raph rolled his eyes. "Didn’t peek. Just heard you scribblin’ like a maniac at 3 AM."
Mikey shook his head in disappointment, dramatically. "My artistic process is sacred, Raph."
You bit back a laugh, watching them bicker, the bracelet warm against your skin.
Raph pushed off the doorframe, snagging a pancake off the stack. "Whatever. Just don’t blow up the lair with whatever ‘surprise’ you got planned." He took a bite, chewed, then paused. "...These are actually decent."
Mikey beamed. "A Christmas miracle!"
The keychain now dangled from your fingers, its tiny skateboard wheels glinting under the kitchen lights. Mikey’s note burned in your pocket, a promise of whatever wild adventure he had brewing at the skate ramp. But the bracelet... it didn’t match his vibe. Too rugged, too deliberate. Your mind spun with possibilities as you grabbed a plate, piling on a snowman pancake that Mikey slid your way with a flourish.
“Dig in, beautiful. Fuel for the fun ahead!” Mikey said, his voice dripping with that infectious energy. He leaned on the counter, watching you take the first bite, his blue eyes locked on your face like he was gauging every chew for approval.
Raph snorted from his spot at the table, demolishing his stolen pancake in two bites. “Fun. Right. Just don’t drag her into one of your wipeout disasters, Mikey.” His tone was gruff, but there was an edge to it, like he was staking some invisible claim. His gaze dipped to the bracelet again, brief, sharp, before he shoved a fork into another flapjack.
The morning blurred into holiday prep after that. Donnie enlisting your help to debug twinkling lights that kept shorting out, Leo overseeing the tree’s final ornaments with military precision, and Splinter meditating through the noise with a serene expression. Mikey vanished mid-morning, only to reappear with armfuls of garland, winking at you every time your paths crossed. Raph stuck to the shadows, hauling boxes of decorations without a word, his muscles flexing under the strain as he knocked Mikey’s makeshift star off the tree with a sneer and wedged a proper star on the tree top.
Hours later, as the lair settled into a lazy afternoon lull, you wandered into the common area. The TV hummed with some old Christmas special, forgotten popcorn scattered on the couch. There, on the coffee table amid the clutter, sat another package, small, wrapped in festive paper dotted with snowflakes, your name scrawled across the top in bold, looping letters that screamed Mikey’s handiwork. No envelope this time, just the gift, waiting like it had been placed there with purpose.
You picked it up, the paper crinkling softly, and glanced around. Mikey lounged on the arm of the couch, pretending to scroll through his phone, but his eyes snapped up the second your fingers touched the wrapper. He straightened, barely containing the bounce in his posture, like a puppy eyeing a treat.
“What’s this?” you asked, turning it over. The weight felt light, teasing, something fun, no doubt.
Mikey shrugged, all casual innocence, but his grin betrayed him. “Dunno, sunshine. Secret Santa magic? Open it! C’mon, I’m dyin’ here.” He leaned forward, elbows on knees, blue eyes wide and gleaming with barely suppressed excitement.
You tore into the paper, revealing a soft bundle, a pair of fuzzy socks, striped in orange and green, with little turtle faces peeking from the cuffs. A laugh bubbled out of you as you held them up, the fabric plush against your palms.
“Whoa, these are adorable! Wonder who these could be from...” You trailed off, shooting Mikey a knowing look.
He threw his hands up, feigning shock. “No idea! But man, that Secret Santa’s got style. Total artist. Bet it’s someone who knows you inside and out… like, knows you’d rock these while zooming down the ramp later.” His voice pitched higher, the act over the top. “Wow, just wow. This person must really get you. Like, favorite turtle levels of get you.”
From the corner, where he’d been sharpening his sais with methodical scrapes, Raph’s head lifted. His green eyes narrowed, locking onto the socks, then flicking to Mikey’s beaming face. His scowl deepened, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he filed it away, the eager watch, the hammed-up surprise, the way Mikey’s gaze lingered on you like he’d already won. Raph’s grip tightened on the whetstone, the scrape turning sharper. He didn’t say a word, just watched, brooding silence coiling like a spring. If Mikey thought he was the only one playing this game, he had another think coming.
You slipped the socks into your pocket, still chuckling. “Well, whoever it is, they’re on a roll. First the bracelet, then the keychain, now this? Christmas is getting mysterious.” The words hung in the air, innocent to you, but Mikey’s grin faltered for a split second… bracelet? He recovered fast, launching into a rant about how epic the reveal party would be, but Raph’s stare burned from the shadows, plotting his next move in the quiet war neither of you knew was brewing.
The tension simmered under the surface like a pot left too long on the stove. Mikey’s gifts were bright, loud, impossible to ignore, just like him. The socks, the keychain, the way he’d “accidentally” bump into you with mistletoe held just above your heads, grinning like a madman.
Raph, on the other hand, was a shadow. His gifts appeared like ghosts, small, quiet, always when you least expected them. A thermos of hot cocoa left by your bedside after a late-night training session with Leo, still steaming. A worn copy of your favorite book from your childhood, tucked into your bag with a dog-eared page marking your favorite passage from when you were a kid. No notes, no fanfare. Just... there.
Mikey noticed, of course.
“Dude,” he stage-whispered to Raph one evening, elbow deep in wrapping paper, “I see what you’re doing, bro, but you’ve got nothin’ on me. You gotta commit. Where’s the flair? The drama? The romance?”
Raph didn’t even look up from sharpening his sai. “Ain’t about flair. It’s about meaning.”
Mikey tisked. “Meaning?! Bro, meaning is built on flair! You can’t just-”
“Watch me.”
And so the battle raged on.
A few days blurred by in a whirlwind of holiday frenzy, the lair decked out in twinkling lights that Donnie swore were “energy-efficient,” Leo’s impromptu carol sing-alongs that devolved into laughter, and Splinter’s quiet stories by the fire pit that wrapped everyone in a blanket of nostalgia. Mikey’s antics kept the energy high; he rigged a whoopee cushion under Raph’s weight bench, earning a chase through the tunnels that ended in breathless giggles. But beneath the chaos, those secret deliveries kept coming, each one pulling at the threads of curiosity in your chest.
It was late one evening, after a group movie night where Mikey hogged the popcorn and Raph sat just close enough that his arm brushed yours during the scary parts, that you retreated to your room. The day had been long, helping Mikey test out holiday-themed skate tricks that mostly ended in spectacular falls, and exhaustion tugged at your limbs. You kicked off your shoes, flopping onto the bed with a sigh, only to notice a package propped against the wall near your door. It hadn’t been there when you’d left that morning.
Simple wrapping, brown paper, tied with plain twine, no frills or doodles. Your name was etched on the front in careful block letters, the kind of handwriting that looked deliberate, unhurried. You sat up, heart skipping a beat as you untied the string. The paper unfolded to reveal a folded bundle of soft fabric, deep red wool, knit with even stitches that spoke of hours spent in focus. A sweater, sized just right for you, the neckline wide enough to slip over your shoulders without snagging, the sleeves long enough to cover your hands on chilly nights. You ran your fingers over it, feeling the warmth already seeping through, and lifted it to your face. It smelled faintly of leather and smoke, like the workshop where the guys tinkered away their frustrations.
This wasn’t flashy. No jokes, no orange and green colors screaming for attention. But it knew you, the way you shivered in the lair’s drafty corners, how you’d mentioned once, offhand, craving something cozy to burrow into during winter late nights. The fit would hug your curves just so, the red a bold echo of Raph’s bandana, protective and fierce. You slipped it on, the wool settling against your skin like an embrace, soft and enveloping. It hit deeper than the other gifts, stirring something warm and aching in your chest, a quiet intimacy that made your breath stall momentarily.
You stood, smoothing it down, and caught your reflection in the small mirror. It looked right, like it belonged. The bracelet’s rugged charm, the cocoa’s thoughtful heat, the book’s personal touch... and now this. Your pulse quickened, fingers tracing the knit pattern, a subtle shell motif along the hem, hidden unless you looked closely. Raph? The thought sent a flush up your neck, imagining his large hands working the needles, brows furrowed in concentration, all that raw strength turned to something so tender.
Down the hall, muffled voices drifted, Mikey’s laughter cutting through Raph’s low grumble. You smiled to yourself, pulling the sweater tighter, the mystery wrapping around you as snugly as the gift itself. Christmas Eve loomed, and with it, the reveal. Whatever came next, this one lingered, a silent promise etched in every stitch.
You stood there for a long moment, the sweater's warmth seeping into your skin, chasing away the chill of the lair's stone walls. But as you traced the subtle shell pattern along the hem, a puzzle piece clicked into place. The gifts... they didn't align. Mikey's were explosions of color and chaos, the keychain dangling with its goofy pizza charm, the socks patterned with cartoon turtles doing holiday flips, each one arriving with a flourish, like a small surprise party you couldn't miss. Bright, bold, impossible to forget.
The mystery gifts, though? They whispered. The bracelet's rough-hewn wood and leather, sturdy against your wrist. The thermos, appearing after you'd complained about the cold, its lid etched with faint initials that looked like yours. The book, slipped in silently, pages worn from what felt like repeated reads. And now this sweater, knit with a precision that screamed quiet nights alone, needles clicking in rhythm with thoughts.
The timing, too, never overlapping, always spaced just right, like two different hands at work. Mikey's dropped during the day, amid laughter and spills in the kitchen. These others materialized in the quiet hours, when the lair hushed and shadows stretched long. Your heart raced as the realization settled. This wasn't one Secret Santa. Rules were bending, maybe shattering. Donnie's whole anonymity schtick? Only one Secret Santa per person. Someone was ignoring it, going rogue for you. The thought sent a thrill through you, mixed with a flutter of nerves. Who would risk that? And why? Your instincts screamed, Raph.
You folded the sweater carefully, tucking it away, but the questions buzzed like holiday lights flickering to life. Down the hall, the brothers' voices rose again, Mikey's animated chatter about a "surprise midnight snack run," Raph's gruff retort cutting through. You smiled, slipping out to join them, the mystery pulling you closer to the fire.
The next morning dawned with Mikey's energy cranked to eleven. He burst into the common area, arms loaded with a suspiciously wrapped bundle that jingled like wind chimes in a storm. "Rise and shine, bros! Or should I say, rise and unwrap?" He thrust the package at you with a wink, his blue eyes sparkling under the fringe of his mask. Inside, a set of handmade ornaments, each painted with inside jokes from your adventures, one showing you and him mid-skate crash, another with tiny figures tangled in Christmas lights, just like that first tangled mess. "For the tree," he declared, helping you hang them with exaggerated flair, his shell brushing against you as he reached high. "See? Personal touches. Makes the whole lair feel like our holiday spot."
His attention ramped up from there, stealing glances at you during breakfast, draping an arm around your shoulders while critiquing Leo's pancake stack, even challenging you to a mistletoe dodge game that ended with him "accidentally" pinning you against the wall, grinning down with that infectious charm. "Oops. Guess I win this round." Every move screamed effort, playful but pointed, drawing you into his orbit like a comet's tail.
Raph watched from his corner, jaw set, green eyes narrowing as Mikey preened. He didn't say a word about the ornaments, but when you shivered later during a group game of charades, Splinter chuckling at Donnie's dramatic falls, Raph was there. A blanket materialized over your lap, his callused hand steadying it without a glance your way. "Drafty in here," he muttered, voice low and rough, but his presence loomed solid, a wall against the chill. During afternoon training, he paired with you unasked, correcting your stance with firm grips on your hips, his breath warm against your ear. "Like that. Keeps ya balanced." No grand gestures, just him, close, watchful, his bulk a quiet shield that made your pulse stutter.
The air between the brothers thickened, whispered barbs hanging like fog. Mikey shot Raph sidelong looks during dinner, his foot nudging yours under the table while boasting about his latest "epic gift idea." Raph's fork scraped his plate harder than necessary, his knee brushing yours in response, a subtle claim, possessive in its restraint. They didn't clash outright, not with the lair buzzing around them, but the tension hummed, electric and heavy, like the quiet before a storm.
You felt it all, caught in the crossfire of their rivalry. Wanted, god, so wanted, their attentions weaving around you like vines, pulling tight. Mikey's light, teasing pull made you laugh, eased the holiday whirl. Raph's steady anchor grounded you, stirred something deeper, raw. Conflicted? Absolutely. Each glance from Mikey sparked butterflies; each quiet act from Raph ignited a slow burn. As Christmas Eve crept closer, the reveal party loomed, and you wondered if the secrets would unravel or tangle you further in their web.
The night before Christmas Eve, the lair was alive with last-minute preparations. Leo had somehow convinced everyone to participate in a "family talent show," which mostly involved Donnie demonstrating his latest invention (a "holiday hologram projector" that kept glitching into terrifying demonic faces) and Splinter performing an ancient ninja dance that left everyone in awe. Mikey, of course, had planned something spectacular, a one-turtle acrobatic routine set to a remix of Carol of the Bells that he swore would "blow your mind, babe."
Raph, however, was missing.
You noticed it halfway through Donnie’s malfunctioning hologram display, scanning the room for his familiar scowl. He wasn’t lurking in the shadows, arms crossed, rolling his eyes at Mikey’s antics. He wasn’t even brooding in the corner, sharpening his sais like usual. The absence prickled at you, an itch you couldn’t ignore.
Mikey noticed your wandering attention and sidled up, still catching his breath from his backflip finale. "Looking for someone?" he teased, nudging your shoulder.
You shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Just wondering where Raph disappeared to."
Mikey’s grin faltered. "Aw, don’t worry, Angelcakes. Big bro’s probably off doing something super mysterious." He wiggled his fingers dramatically. "Or maybe he’s just scared of my unstoppable holiday spirit."
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. Still, the curiosity nagged at you.
Later, when the festivities wound down and the others drifted off to bed, you found yourself wandering the tunnels, the red sweater you were reasonably sure Raph had gifted you wrapped snugly around you. The lair was quiet, the only sounds the distant hum of Donnie’s machines and the occasional drip of water from the pipes.
Then you heard it.
A low, rhythmic thud from the dojo.
You followed the sound, your footsteps silent against the stone. Peeking through the half-open door, you saw him.
Raph.
Shirtless, gearless, sweat glistening on his plastron, fists wrapped in tape as he pounded into a heavy bag with controlled, brutal strikes. His breathing was steady, his expression focused, but there was something else there, too.
Pain. Or frustration. Maybe both, etched into the lines of his face, deeper than the usual scowl. His muscles flexed with each punch, green skin taut over ridges of power, the air thick with the scent of sweat and exertion. You hesitated in the doorway, the sweater's wool soft against your arms, but something pulled you forward. The need to bridge that gap, to touch whatever storm brewed inside him.
You pushed the door open wider, the creak announcing you. Raph's head snapped up, fists pausing mid-swing. His eyes locked on yours, dark, intense, flickering with surprise that softened into something warmer, unguarded when they took you in from head to toe and noticed you in the red sweater. He straightened, wiping his brow with the back of his taped hand, chest heaving.
"Couldn't sleep?" His voice rumbled low, gravelly from the effort. He didn't move to cover up or grab a towel, just stood there, under the dim dojo lights.
You shook your head, stepping closer, the cool floor grounding you. "Noticed you bailed on the show. Everything okay?"
He grunted, turning back to the bag but not hitting it, fingers flexing against the leather. "Needed to clear my head. Mikey's circus was givin' me a headache." He was quiet for a moment, then quieter, almost reluctant he said, "And... other stuff."
The air between you thickened, charged like the moments before a fight. You closed the distance, your hand brushing his arm, solid, warm, slick with sweat. He tensed but didn't move, his gaze dropping to your touch, then lifting to meet your eyes. Up close, you could see the flecks of gold in the green, the way his breathing deepened.
"This sweater," you said softly, tugging at the collar. "It's... It's perfect. Feels like you made it for me." Heart pounding, you waited, the words hanging.
Raph's jaw worked, a muscle ticking. He reached out, his rough fingers grazing your cheek, thumb tracing the line of your jaw. His hand cupped your face, tilting it up, and he leaned in, slow, deliberate, his plastron brushing your chest. The heat of him enveloped you, his scent earthy and masculine, stirring something deep in your body.
Your lips parted, breath mingling with his, the world narrowing to the space between you. His eyes searched yours, vulnerable in a way that twisted your gut. "I..." he started, voice a husky whisper, forehead nearly touching yours. "You drive me crazy, y'know that? All this holiday crap, and all I can think about is…"
He stopped, eyes squeezing shut for a second, then pulled back just enough to break the spell. His hand dropped, curling into a fist at his side. "Forget it. It's nothin'. Just... get some rest. Big day tomorrow." He turned away, grabbing a towel to wipe down, shoulders rigid, the almost-confession lingering like smoke.
You stood there, lips tingling from the near-miss, a flush creeping up your neck. The rejection stung, but beneath it, the spark of what he'd almost said burned bright. You nodded, slipping out without another word, the dojo door clicking shut behind you. Sleep came fitfully, dreams tangled with green eyes and unspoken promises.
The next day dawned crisp and buzzing, Christmas Eve sunlight filtering through the lair's grates like golden confetti through the tunnels. The common area thrummed with final prep, Leo barking orders for the feast, Donnie troubleshooting his hologram fix, Splinter meditating in serene ignorance. Mikey, ever the whirlwind, cornered you by the kitchen counter, a sprig of mistletoe dangling from his finger like a dare.
"C'mon, babe," he grinned, blue eyes twinkling as he backed you against the fridge, the toe of his boot nudging yours. "One little peck for luck? Secret Santa's got nothin' on this tradition." His voice dropped playful, but laced with intent, hand hovering near your waist. The lair's chatter faded, his warmth pressing close, hinting at the reveal he'd been building toward. "Or hey, maybe I'll spill who your Secret Santa is right now…"
A shadow fell over you both. Raph loomed in the doorway, arms crossed, glare sharp as a sai. "Mikey. Back off. We got work to do." His tone brooked no argument, eyes flicking to you, possessive, stormy, before locking on his brother.
Mikey straightened, grin slipping into a sneer, but the challenge sparked in his eyes. "Whoa, easy, Raphie. Just holiday cheer. Right, Angel?" He shot you a wink, but the air crackled, the brothers exchanging a loaded glance, unspoken barbs flying, rivalry coiling tight.
You caught it all, the undercurrent slamming into place like a puzzle locking. The gifts, the attentions, the way they orbited you without colliding… until now. Mikey's flirtation wasn't just play; Raph's interventions weren't just brotherly. They were competing. For you. The realization hit like a warm wave, flushing your skin, stirring a conflicted thrill low in your belly. Wanted by both, pulled between fire and flash, as the Eve's festivities ramped up around you.
The tension between the brothers was now a living thing, crackling in the air like static before a storm. Mikey, ever the showman, had taken to "accidentally" brushing against you at every opportunity, his fingers lingering when he passed you a mug of hot cocoa, his shoulder bumping yours during movie night, his laughter warm and close in your ear. Each touch was a challenge, a dare to Raph, who watched with a simmering intensity.
Raph, on the other hand, had shifted tactics. No more lurking. Now, he inserted himself, his presence a wall of heat at your back when Mikey got too close, his low growl of "Move, Mikey," when his brother tried to slide into the seat beside you. His gifts had grown bolder, too, a hand-carved wooden hairpin left on your pillow, the edges smoothed to perfection, the design unmistakably his. A note tucked into your jacket pocket, Stay warm. Stay safe. Simple, direct, so Raph.
Christmas Eve arrived in a flurry of snowflakes drifting through the sewer tunnel grates, the lair was transformed into a twinkling wonderland of lights and laughter. The family gathered for the feast, Splinter at the head of the table, Donnie’s holograms finally working (mostly), Leo leading a toast to family and brotherhood.
His voice carried steady and sincere, the clink of mugs echoing through the room as everyone raised their drinks, hot cider for you, something stronger for the brothers. The warmth of the feast settled down in your bones, plates piled high with Donnie's experimental holiday pizza (topped with cranberry sauce and mozzarella that somehow worked) and Mikey's chaotic vanilla cookie assortment. Laughter bubbled up, Splinter's eyes crinkling with quiet pride, but beneath the cheer, that electric tension hummed, pulling your gaze between the two brothers at the table.
Mikey sat to your left, his knee brushing yours under the tablecloth, a deliberate press that sent a spark up your thigh. He caught your eye, flashing that trademark grin, his knuckles drumming a playful rhythm on the wood. Raph, on your right, mirrored the contact but with more weight, his arm a solid barrier, his thigh firmly against yours, grounding and unyielding. Every shift of his body radiated heat, his arm occasionally grazing yours as he reached for seconds.
As the meal wound down, Leo cleared his throat, standing with a flourish. "Alright, fellas. Time for the main event, Secret Santa reveals. No more hiding in the shadows." He nodded to the stack of wrapped gifts piled in the center, each one tagged anonymously. The room buzzed with anticipation, Donnie fiddling with a timer on his tablet to keep things orderly.
Your heart kicked up, the pieces you'd been collecting all week slotting into place. The colorful chaos from Mikey, the mistletoe bomb that exploded confetti in your hair, the playlist of cheesy love songs slipped into your phone. The quiet anchors from Raph, the thermos of spiked eggnog left steaming on your nightstand, the carved hairpin that fit your hair like it was measured by his hands. Two Santas, two styles, two brothers circling you like predators in a shared territory.
The reveals started tame, Donnie unveiling a gadget blueprint from Leo, Splinter receiving a rare tea blend from Donnie. Then it was Mikey's turn to hand out his gift. But when the brightly wrapped package with exploding glitter landed in your lap, the one you'd suspected was his all along, the room's energy shifted. You unwrapped it slowly, revealing a custom sketchpad filled with your likeness in fantastical poses, each page a burst of color and affection.
"Whoa, Mikey," Leo chuckled, but your eyes flicked to Raph, whose jaw tightened imperceptibly.
Next came the simpler package, slid across the table by a large hand. Inside, a leather-bound journal, its cover embossed with a subtle emblem, pages already marked with quotes that mirrored your late-night talks. His gaze met yours briefly, intense and flickering, before dropping.
Enough. The tension coiled too tight, demanding release. You set the journal down, standing with a smile that masked the flutter in your chest. "Okay, guys. Cards on the table." The room quieted, all eyes on you. Mikey leaned forward, intrigued; Raph's posture stiffened, ready for impact.
"I've got two Secret Santas here," you said, playful but direct, holding up the gifts like evidence. "One's all fireworks and fun, glitter bombs and doodles that make me blush. The other's... steady. Things that fit just right, like they see me, really see me." You paused for a moment, letting it sink in, your voice dropping a notch. "So, which one of you has been breaking the rules?"
Mikey's laugh rang out, bright and unashamed. He threw his hands up, orange mask crinkling with his grin. "Nahh, Angel! Pulled your name fair and square." He winked, leaning back with zero regret, his eyes dancing over you like he'd won the game already.
Raph shifted, his chair scraping the floor. He didn't look at Mikey, just you, those green eyes stormy, reluctant words grinding out. "Yeah. It’s me." A huff escaped him, fist clenching on the table. "Didn't pull your name. Was s'posed to just be Leo. But... couldn't just watch Mikey hog all the shots. You deserve better than his clown show."
The confirmation hung heavy, and there it was, the glares. Mikey turned to Raph, eyes sharpening into something fiercer, a flash of betrayal in his blue eyes. "Hog? Bro, I'm givin' her the fun she needs. Not your brooding stare-downs." Raph's response was a low snarl, plastron puffing slightly, the air between them thickening with years of rivalry now laced with this new, personal edge. They were competing for you, outright, no more shadows.
You held up a hand, stepping between their stares, your pulse racing with a mix of exasperation and that forbidden thrill. "Hey. Stop." Your voice cut through, firm but soft. "I never asked you to compete. Not like this. Gifts, touches, all of it... I like you both. For different reasons. But turning it into a fight? That's not the holiday spirit I signed up for."
The words landed, diffusing the immediate spark. Mikey deflated, rubbing his neck with a sheepish grin. "Fair point, babe. But... can ya blame a guy for tryin'?" Raph just grunted, looking away.
Leo cleared his throat awkwardly, steering everyone back to the gifts, but the dynamic had shifted. No more secrets, just raw truths.
The rest of the evening passed in a tense but controlled détente. Mikey kept his playful touches light, more for your comfort rather than to avoid provoking Raph, and Raph didn’t growl again, but his presence at your side didn’t waver, a silent claim etched into the space between you. By the time the last gift was unwrapped and Splinter had retired with a warning glance at his sons, the lair hummed with a quiet, restless energy.
Then, as you moved to help clear the table, Mikey caught your wrist, his grip gentle but firm. "Hey, Angel," he murmured, pulling you toward the doorway leading to the tunnels, his blue eyes lit with mischief. "Gotta show ya somethin’. Just you. No big bro interruptions." His thumb traced a teasing circle on your skin, his grin lopsided. "Trust me. It's worth it."
Raph’s shadow fell over you both before you could answer. He stepped in close, his plastron brushing your back, a solid, possessive heat at your spine. His voice rumbled low, barely above a growl. "She ain’t goin’ anywhere alone with you, Mikey."
Mikey’s grin fell away, his fingers twining with yours in open challenge. "That’s for her to decide, bro."
The air crackled, the brothers’ stares locked in a battle older than you. Your pulse hammered, torn between Mikey’s playful pull and Raph’s grounding weight. The choice loomed, but not here, not like this, not with an audience nearby.
You squeezed Mikey’s hand once, then gently pulled free, stepping back to press against Raph’s chest whose arm curled instinctively around your waist. "Later," you told Mikey softly. "Tonight’s about family." His frown faltered for a split second before bouncing back with a forced smile, but the glint in his eyes said this wasn’t over. Raph’s grip tightened, his chin came down to rest atop your head.
"I ain’t backin’ down, Raph. Just sayin’." Mikey said then they were back to glaring daggers at each other again.
Raph’s palm flattening against your stomach, pulling you flush against him in a possessive claim. The heat of his body seeped through your shirt, his breath hot against your hair, a low rumble vibrating from his chest that you felt more than heard. Mikey’s eyes narrowed, his fingers flexing as if itching to yank you back, the playful spark in his gaze now gone, hardening into something sharper, more primal. The lair’s festive glow seemed to dim, the string lights casting long shadows that mirrored the tension coiling between them.
Silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, broken only by the distant hum of pipes doing their jobs. Mikey’s shoulders slumped a fraction, vulnerability cracking through his bravado, his blue eyes flicking from you to Raph, disgruntled hurt flashing before he masked it with a scoff. Raph didn’t budge, his grip unyielding, but you caught the subtle tremor in his hand, the way his jaw clenched like he was holding back a storm. They were brothers, bound by blood and battles, but this? This was territory neither had mapped, and it left them raw, exposed in the aftermath of their confessions.
You twisted slightly in Raph’s hold, enough to face them both, your hands coming up to rest on their arms, one on Mikey’s wrist, still warm from where he’d held yours, the other on Raph’s forearm, solid as stone. “Enough,” you said, voice steady despite the wild thump of your heart. The words hung there, drawing their stares to you, Mikey’s curious and Raph’s guarded. “I liked both your gifts. The wild ones that made me laugh, the ones that felt like a party just for me. And the quiet ones, the ones that wrapped around me like a hug I didn’t know I needed. They’re both perfect because they’re from the two of you.”
Mikey tilted his head, a slow blink processing your words, while Raph’s brow furrowed deeper, resistance etched in every line of his face. You pressed on, squeezing their arms gently. “I like both of you. Mikey, your energy, the way you light up a room and make everything feel alive. Raph, your strength, how you make me feel safe, seen in ways words don’t touch. But no one’s asked what I want. You’ve been so busy competing over me like I’m a prize that you didn’t stop to think that maybe… I want you both. Together. No more competing, no more nasty glares. Just... us.”
Mikey connected the dots first, his eyes widening as realization dawned, a confused smile creeping onto his face. “Wait... like, sharing? Me and Raph? With you?” He glanced at his brother, testing the waters, the disgruntlement easing into curious possibility. No jealousy flared; instead, his thumb brushed your skin again, lighter now, more exploratory.
Raph was still resistant, his body tensing slightly, a low grumpy growl building in his throat. “That ain’t... We don’t...” But his words faltered as he met your eyes, then Mikey’s, the vulnerability you’d glimpsed earlier surfacing fully. His hand on your stomach softened, fingers splaying wider, not as possessive. The snarl faded, replaced by a reluctant nod, his green eyes darkening with a mix of hesitation and heat. “If that’s what you want... fine. But I’m only sharin’ if it means avoiding hurtin’ you.”
The shift rippled through them, rivalry shifting into something new. Mikey stepped closer, his hand finding your hip, sandwiching you between their warmth. Raph’s chin dipped, his lips brushing your temple in a rare, tender press.
The contact lingered, warm and grounding, sending a shiver down your spine as Mikey’s hand settled on your hip, his fingers tracing idle patterns that sparked heat low in your belly. Sandwiched between them, their bodies pressed close, Raph’s solid chest at your back, Mikey’s leaner frame in front, you felt the dual rhythm of their breaths syncing with yours, the air thick with the scent of pine from the decorations and the faint, musky edge of their arousal mingling.
Mikey broke the quiet first, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, eyes locked on yours with that familiar mischief now edged with sincerity. “Okay, so... if we’re doin’ this, we gotta talk rules. No hoggin’, no sneakin’ off without the other knowin’. And if somethin’ feels off, we say it straight up. I ain’t losin’ my bro over this, but I sure as hell ain’t backin’ down from makin’ you feel good either.” His free hand lifted to cup your cheek, thumb grazing your lower lip.
Raph shifted behind you, his arm tightening just enough to remind you of his presence, the vibration of his agreement rumbling against your skin. “Yeah. Boundaries. I touch you, he touches you, fine. But no pushin’ too far without checkin’ in. And feelings...” He paused, the word rough in his throat, his hand sliding up to rest over your heart, feeling its rapid beat. “I care about you. More than I let on. This rivalry? It came from that fear of losin’ you to him. But if sharin’ means keepin’ you happy, without the hurt... I’m in.” His voice cracked slightly on the admission, vulnerability raw as he nuzzled your hair, the gesture intimate, his breath fanning your ear.
You nodded, heart swelling at their honesty, your hands covering theirs where they touched you, one squeezing Mikey’s at your hip, the other pressing Raph’s to your chest. “I feel the same. You both make me feel wanted, alive in ways I didn’t expect. Mikey, your playfulness brightens my day; Raph, your protectiveness makes me feel cherished. Jealousy might creep in, but we talk it out. No secrets, no fights. And physically... we take it slow, explore what works for all of us.” The words flowed easier than you thought, the heat building as Mikey’s fingers explored more, brushing the curve of your waist, while Raph’s hand ventured south, palm warm against your abdomen, both testing the new waters with careful intent.
Mikey’s smile returned, softer but no less heated, as he leaned in to steal a quick peck on your lips, light and teasing. “Deal. Now, boundaries set, let’s see how this plays out.” Raph grunted in agreement, his own lips finding the nape of your neck for a brief, firm kiss that made your knees weaken, his teeth grazing just enough to hint at the passion simmering beneath.
The tension eased into a charged calm, their touches withdrawing reluctantly as you stepped away, the connection lingering like an invisible thread. “C’mon,” you said, voice breathy, linking arms with both of them, Mikey on one side, Raph on the other. “Secret Santa’s not over. Let’s get back before Leo sends a search party.”
They exchanged a look over your head, not a glare this time but a nod of understanding, the rivalry tempered into alliance. Mikey chuckled, squeezing your arm. “Lead the way, Angel. But after this? We got more talkin’ to do... in private.” Raph’s hand brushed your lower back as you walked, a silent echo of agreement, the promise of what awaited hanging heavy in the festive air as you returned to the common area, the glow of lights welcoming you back to the ongoing exchanges.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, gifts, and the occasional lingering glance between the three of you. By the time the last of the presents were unwrapped and the lair began to quiet down, the three of you found yourselves lingering near the entrance to your room. The others had drifted off, Donnie to tinker with his latest gadget gifted to him. Leo to meditate, Splinter to his quarters, leaving just the three of you in the dim glow of the holiday lights.
Mikey leaned against the wall, arms crossed, as he watched you and Raph. “So,” he drawled, tilting his head. “Now what?”
Raph shifted beside you, his hand finding yours, fingers intertwining with a quiet possessiveness. “Now we talk,” he rumbled, his thumb tracing slow circles over your knuckles. “Figure out what this looks like.”
Mikey pushed off the wall, closing the distance between you in a few easy strides. His hands came up to rest on your hips, his fingers warm even through the fabric of your sweater. “And then?” he murmured, his voice low, teasing.
Raph’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, but there was no territorial snarl. Instead, his other hand came up to cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle. “Then we see where this takes us,” he said, his voice rough but sincere.
You looked between them, heart pounding in your chest. Mikey’s blue eyes were bright with something heated. Raph’s green gaze was intense, unwavering, the fire in them burning just as hot.
The air between you thickened, charged with unspoken promises, until Raph broke the silence with a low grunt. He tugged your hand gently, leading you toward your room's door, his broad frame brushing against yours. Mikey fell into step on your other side, his fingers grazing your arm. No words were needed; the mutual nod from earlier sealed it. You pushed the door open, the soft click echoing as the three of you slipped inside, the door shutting behind you with a decisive thud that muffled the distant holiday music from the common area.
Your room felt smaller with them in it, the bed unmade from earlier, fairy lights strung along the walls casting a warm, intimate glow. Raph released your hand only to turn you toward him, his calloused palms cupping your face as he leaned down. His lips met yours in a slow, deliberate kiss, firm but tender, tasting of the faint salt from the evening's snacks and something uniquely him, rough and grounding. You melted into it, your hands sliding up his plastron to grip his shoulders, feeling the solid muscle beneath.
Mikey watched for a moment, his eyes widening like he was mentally gathering his courage. Then stepped in close behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your back against his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder as he nuzzled your neck. “Room for one more?” he murmured, voice playful yet edged with hunger. You nodded against Raph's mouth, and Mikey’s lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, pressing soft kisses that trailed down to your collarbone. The dual attention sent sparks racing through you, Raph's tongue now slipping past your lips to deepen the kiss, exploring with careful strokes while Mikey's hands roamed your sides, thumbs circling your hips.
It stayed sweet like that for a moment, Raph's kiss turning languid, his thumbs brushing your cheeks; Mikey's embraces light, his body swaying you gently between them. But the tenderness cracked as Raph's hands dropped to your waist, pulling you flush against him, his growing arousal pressing hard against your stomach through his gear. You felt Mikey too, his own hardness nudging your ass as he ground subtly, a soft groan escaping him. The kiss with Raph broke with a wet smack, both of you breathing heavy, and Mikey spun you halfway to capture your lips next, his mouth eager, tongue darting in with playful flicks that made you moan into his mouth.
Raph pressed in from behind, his mouth on your neck, sucking lightly to leave a faint mark. His hands worked under your sweater, palms flat against your bare skin, sliding up to cup your breasts, thumbs teasing your nipples until they hardened under his touch. Mikey broke the kiss to yank your sweater over your head, tossing it aside, his eyes raking over you hungrily before he dipped down to latch onto one of your nipples, sucking hard while Raph kneaded the other. You arched between them, fingers tangling in Mikey's bandana tails as pleasure coiled tight within you.
“On your knees, Angel,” Mikey whispered against your skin, voice dropping to a soft, yet filthy rasp as he straightened, already tugging at his belt. Raph rumbled agreement, his hands guiding you down firmly. The cool floor met your knees as you knelt, the two of them towering over you, their eyes locked on yours with shared intent. No rivalry, just raw want. Mikey moved first, shucking his shorts down his hips, without preamble, his tail lifting slightly as his cloaca parted, his thick cock emerging slick and hard, the purplish length curving upward, tip already beading with precum. He then stared at you expectantly.
You wrapped your hand around him, stroking slow from base to tip, feeling the heat and the subtle ridges along his shaft. It was different from what you were used to, but in a fascinating way. He hissed, hips bucking into your grip as you stroked him. Raph followed suit, his own clothes came off, and in no time, his tail flexed as his cock slid free from its vent, longer, and thicker, with veins prominent under the smooth skin. You leaned in, taking Raph into your mouth first, tongue swirling around the head to taste the salty drip, sucking him deep while your hand pumped Mikey faster. Raph's hand fisted in your hair, pulling you closer as he groaned low, “Fuck, yeah... just like that.”
Mikey's fingers traced your jaw, encouraging, his cock twitching in your stroking fist. “Switch for me,” he urged after a minute, voice strained. You pulled off Raph with a pop, lips shiny, and turned to Mikey, engulfing him in wet heat, bobbing your head as your free hand now jerked Raph in rhythm. They stood close, shoulders brushing, breaths mingling above you as they watched you, the sounds of your mouth working them over, slurps and moans, filling the room. Mikey's hand replaced Raph's in your hair, guiding you, their cocks throbbing under your attention, slick with your saliva.
You alternated like that, sucking one as deep as you were able to handle with their impressive girths, while stroking the other, knees shifting on the floor as arousal soaked your panties. Raph's grunts grew rougher, Mikey's praises filthier, “Suck it harder, babe, take it all,” building the heat until your jaw ached sweetly, their tips bumping your cheeks as you switched again, determined to give them equal devotion in this new union.
The air in the room was now thick with the scent of musk and arousal, the only sounds the wet slide of your lips around their cocks and their ragged breathing. Mikey’s fingers tightened in your hair, his hips giving an involuntary thrust as you hollowed your cheeks around him, swallowing him deeper. His cock twitched against your tongue, his breath hitching as he fought to keep still.
"Damn, Angel, you’re so good at this," Mikey groaned, his voice rough with need. His free hand found your shoulder, squeezing as if to steady himself. "But I ain’t gonna last too long if you keep goin’ like that."
Raph grunted in agreement, his own cock slick and heavy in your hand, his hips rolling into your grip. "She’s got a mouth made for ruinin’ a guy," he rumbled, his thumb brushing your cheek where it stretched around Mikey’s length. "But I ain’t lettin’ her do all the work."
Before you could react, Raph’s hands were guiding you to stand. Your legs wobbled slightly, but he steadied you, his palm warm against your back as he guided you toward the bed. Mikey followed close behind, his fingers trailing down your spine before giving your ass a playful smack.
"Here’s where the fun really starts, babe," Mikey purred, his voice dripping with intent.
Raph didn’t waste time. The moment your knees hit the mattress, he was turning you onto your back, his massive frame looming over you as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your pants and panties. With a sharp tug, the fabric gave way, leaving you bare beneath him. His gaze darkened as he took you in, his tongue dragging over his teeth.
"Beautiful. And all mine," he breathed, the words possessive, final.
But Mikey wasn’t having it. He climbed onto the bed beside you, his hand sliding up your thigh as he leaned in to nip at your earlobe. "Ours," he corrected, his breath hot against your skin. "Ain’t that right, Angel?"
You barely had time to nod before Raph’s mouth was on you, his tongue dragging a slow, torturous line up your slit before circling your clit. Your back arched off the mattress at the sudden contact. Raph's tongue flattened against your pussy, lapping broad strokes from your entrance to your clit, his rough hands pinning your thighs wide open. He sucked your clit between his lips, flicking it with the tip of his tongue, drawing a sharp moan from your throat as pleasure jolted through you.
Mikey's mouth crashed onto yours, capturing the sound, his tongue thrusting deep to tangle with yours in a messy, hungry kiss. He swallowed your gasps, one hand cupping your breast to pinch your nipple, rolling it until it peaked hard. His other arm braced beside your head, his body pressing close, cock still rigid against your side.
Raph grumbled against your folds, the vibration humming into your core, but he felt your focus split, your hips bucking toward Mikey's grinding weight. Jealous heat flared in his chest; he wanted all of you on him. Breaking away with a slick pop, he rose up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes locked on you. "C'mere," he rasped, voice thick, hauling you upright by your arms until you straddled his lap, your knees sinking into the mattress on either side of one of his thick thighs.
The scales on his thigh were cool and textured under your soaked pussy, a stark contrast to the heat building inside you. You ground down instinctively, sliding your wet lips along the firm muscle, the friction sending sparks up your spine. Raph's hands gripped your hips, guiding your rolls, his cock throbbing against your outer thigh, untouched but straining.
Mikey knelt behind you, his chest to your back, lips finding yours again over your shoulder. The kiss was sloppy, teeth nipping your lower lip as his hands roamed your sides, one dipping to circle your clit while you rode Raph's thigh. "That's it, grind on him, Angel," Mikey murmured into your mouth, his fingers slicking through your arousal. "Get that pussy nice and ready."
The slide of your folds over Raph's scaled skin grew frantic, your clit catching on the ridges with each pass, building pressure low in your belly. Raph's breath came in harsh pants, his grip bruising as he felt your juices smear across his thigh, the sight and feel of your arousal making his cock pulse harder. "Fuck, you're drippin' all over me," he groaned, the words guttural. He couldn't take it anymore, the way your pussy clenched against him drove him wild.
With a swift shift, Raph lifted you slightly, one hand fisting his cock to notch the thick head at your entrance. He pushed up in one controlled thrust, stretching your walls around his girth. The burn was intense, a sweet ache as he filled you inch by inch, your pussy fluttering to accommodate him. You cried out into Mikey's mouth, breaking the kiss, nails digging into Raph's shoulders.
Raph bottomed out with a shuddering exhale, buried to the hilt, his eyes squeezing shut in pure bliss. "So tight... squeezin' me so perfect," he muttered, holding still to let you adjust, though his hips twitched with the effort. Mikey pressed kisses along your neck, his hand still teasing your clit to ease the stretch, his own cock nudging your ass from behind as the three of you locked together in this heated tangle.
Mikey shifted behind you, his cock pressing insistently against the curve of your ass, but the way Raph's thick length throbbed deep inside your pussy made it clear who had the lead right now. A flicker of impatience crossed Mikey's face, he wasn't one to sit on the sidelines for long. He pulled back just enough to rise up on his knees, then planted his feet on the mattress for leverage, towering over you both.
"Hey, don't forget about me, Angel," Mikey said, his voice husky with a teasing edge as he gripped the base of his cock, guiding the swollen head toward your lips. Your mouth parted on a gasp from Raph's subtle roll of his hips, and Mikey took the opening, sliding past your teeth with a slow push. The salty tang of his pre-cum coated your tongue as he filled your mouth, stretching your jaw around his girth.
Raph's hands tightened on your hips, holding you steady as he began to thrust up, shallow at first, pulling out halfway before sinking back in, each drag igniting fresh sparks along your inner walls as you slid along his ridges. The rhythm built a steady burn, your pussy clenching greedily around him, juices leaking down to slick his cloaca. "That's it, take it," Raph growled, his voice rough as he watched Mikey's cock disappear between your lips, the sight fueling his pace.
Mikey's fingers threaded into your hair, cradling the back of your head with a firm hold, urging you forward. "Open up wider, babe… just like that," he coaxed, his hips inching deeper, the veined shaft bumping the roof of your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard as your tongue swirled around the underside, drawing a sharp hiss from him. "Fuck, yeah... deeper, you can do it. Relax your throat for me."
You bobbed your head in time with Raph's thrusts, the dual sensations overwhelming, Raph's cock pounding into you, hitting that spot that made your toes curl, while Mikey guided your head’s movements, his praises spilling out in breathless bursts. "Good girl, swallow around me... oh, shit, your mouth's so hot." His free hand traced your jaw, thumb brushing where his length stretched you, encouraging you to take more.
Raph picked up speed, his powerful thighs flexing under you as he fucked up into your pussy with wet, slapping sounds echoing in the room. Each plunge stretched you further, the sweet burn fading into pure ecstasy, your walls fluttering erratically around his length. Sweat beaded around his neck, and slid down onto his plastron, dripping onto your chest as he leaned in, nipping at your shoulder. "She's squeezin' me so good... gonna make me lose it," he rasped, one hand sliding up to pinch your nipple, twisting just enough to send jolts straight to your clit.
Mikey's breaths grew ragged, his grip tightening as he fed you more of his cock, the tip nudging the back of your throat. "Breathe through your nose, Angel… yeah, just like that. Take every inch... you're killin' me here." You gagged softly but pushed on, saliva dripping down your chin, mixing with the mess between your legs. The fullness in both ends had you moaning around him, the vibrations making his hips jerk.
The mattress creaked under the force of Raph's drives, your body rocking between them. Pleasure coiled tighter in your belly, the edge of release hovering as they used you in tandem, their rivalry melted into shared rhythm.
The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room, your muffled moans around Mikey's cock, and the brothers' ragged breathing. Raph's thrusts became more erratic, his rhythm faltering as he neared his peak. His fingers dug into your hips hard enough to leave bruises, his voice a rough growl.
"Gonna fill you up, Sweetheart... take every last drop," he grunted, his cock swelling inside you, the veins pulsing against your walls. You came then, unable to hold out any longer.
Mikey wasn't far behind. His grip in your hair tightened as he fucked your mouth with shallow, desperate thrusts, his balls drawing up tight inside his slit. "Shit… gonna cum, babe. Swallow it all for me," he gasped, his voice breaking as his cock twitched violently against your tongue.
Raph came first, a deep, guttural groan ripped from his throat as he thrust up into you one last time, his cock jerking as thick ropes of cum flooded your pussy, the warmth spreading through your core. His hips stuttered, grinding deep as he emptied himself inside of you, his fingers trembling where they gripped your hips.
Mikey followed seconds later, his release hitting the back of your throat in hot, salty spurts. You swallowed around him, milking him with your lips and tongue until he shuddered, his cock softening slightly when he finally pulled back with a wet pop.
"Damn, Angel..." Mikey panted, his fingers brushing your swollen lips. "You're too good at that."
Raph was still buried inside you, his cock twitching as the last of his cum spilled out around him. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath hot and uneven. "You took us both so fuckin' well," he murmured, voice rough with satisfaction.
You were a mess between them, breathless, trembling, and utterly spent. Mikey grinned lazily, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Guess we can make this work after all."
Raph huffed in agreement. "Yeah... guess we can."
The lair had fallen into a peaceful hush, the twinkling Christmas lights strung across the walls casting a soft, multicolored glow over everything. Outside, fat snowflakes drifted lazily in the night sky, blanketing the quiet city in white. The world above felt distant, muffled by the underground sanctuary, leaving only the warmth of tangled limbs and shared breaths in the air.
You lay nestled between Raphael and Michelangelo on the wide mattress, your body still humming from the intensity of what had just transpired. Raph's solid frame pressed against your side, his arm draped possessively over your waist, his plastron rising and falling steadily against your shoulder. Mikey spooned you from behind, his lighter touch tracing lazy patterns on your hip, his tail lazily flopped on the bed behind him. The scent of sweat and sex lingered faintly, but it was overshadowed now by the cozy scent of pine from the Christmas tree in the common room and the faint vanilla from earlier cookie baking.
Mikey nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing your skin with a contented sigh. "Y'know, Angel," he murmured, his voice sleepy and playful, "that Secret Santa thing? Totally rigged from the start. But hey, I'm not complainin'. Best draw I ever got." He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you, light and teasing as always.
Raph grunted in agreement, his fingers flexing slightly against your skin, pulling you a fraction closer. "Yeah, well... worked out alright." His words were gruff, but there was a rare softness in them, a promise woven into the quiet rumble of his chest. He pressed a kiss to your temple, lingering there as if sealing the moment.
You smiled, your hand finding Mikey's over your hip, intertwining fingers with him in a simple, grounding touch. The air hummed with unspoken futures, lazy mornings tangled like this, shared glances across the lair, the kind of bond that defied labels but felt right in every fiber. In the glow of the lights and the whisper of snow outside, it was clear, this was just the beginning of something warm, wild, and entirely yours.
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Masterlist
A Little Blue on Halloween
TURTLEDOVES!
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
and LOOK 👀👀👀
I actually participated in my own prompt challenge this month LOL
This month's prompt was Halloween Party.
This Halloween special is brought to you by the Leader in Blue (big fucking surprise).
➡️ Aged-up, adult turts
TW: fluff, pining, and Leo being a dumbass
You'd had a crush on the leader of the city's vigilantes for a long time.
Since they'd come out of hiding after the alien invasion, actually.
And that had been nearing close to two decades at this point.
They'd quickly become huge celebrities, getting interviewed and asked to attend events across the world.
He was perfect. The strong, quiet type. A little shy and bashful over the attention. And forever a gentleman.
But this man didn't just have a sea of people to choose from; he had all the seas to choose from.
So in your heart of little hearts, you knew - you had nary a chance.
And as it goes, you never found a partner who could measure up to "Leonardo" standards - I mean, how? No human could.
You remained single, and you weren't unhappy about it. Lonely? A little. But you'd rather do without than settle.
It was nearing Halloween, and you'd decided to dress up as the leader himself. Pay a little homage to the man you'd been in love with for more than half your life. The man who didn't even know you existed.
Little did you know, that he did, in fact, know who you were.
He knew exactly who you were.
As it turned out, you lived on the street that housed the manhole cover they used most frequently.
And they ALL knew who you were.
You were kind and caring. You helped your elderly neighbors. Volunteered for the local homeless shelter and soup kitchen. You fostered small animals that the humane society needed help with.
And you always stayed safe. Never got into any trouble.
Thus, Leonardo they never had a reason to introduce themselves.
Leonardo had been watching you for years. Even when you'd lived only a few neighborhoods over with your parents. You'd still been his age - early teens - when they'd taken out some scum bag who was trailing you home one night after a late-night study session, and had tried to nab you to do only God knows what. He'd jumped into action quickly and successfully taken out the guy, without you seeing him.
This was before they'd revealed themselves to the world, unfortunately, so he'd remained anonymous. And was now kicking himself in the ass for it.
You'd started to run, but stopped and turned, and thanked him, despite his refusal to show himself or explain why he'd saved you. And then, respecting his anonymity, you'd turned and walked home.
Of course, he'd followed you and made sure you made it home safe that night.
But then he also started trailing you every time you had to walk home after dark. Even if you were walking with a friend or parent.
Listening to your conversations, Leonardo soon felt a kind of kinship toward you.
He's a fucking liar. He liked you and wanted nothing more than to be a normal teenage boy who could date you.
But alas.
And here he was, more than two decades later, still trailing you home to keep you safe.
Still too afraid to introduce himself. Because there was always that possibility of rejection.
💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙
Instead of going the usual route and getting a store-bought costume, you decided to make your own.
You wanted to honor Leo, but with some feminine flair.
A cute V-neck tee, a pair of darker green pants, and a green handmade tutu. Topped off with a silk wrapped belt, a mask, and a pair of cute flats - all in Leonardo Blue. The carapace on your back you had made yourself from your lucky green backpack and foam mats. It fit snuggly against your back, lightweight, so it wasn't heavy and you didn't look too bulky. Twin plastic Katanas you had ordered online had hilts garnished with the same blue silk ribbon that was around your waist. And of course, a green and blue bow with an "L" on it to bring it all together.
You stood, looking at yourself in the mirror, proud of your handiwork, and excited to hand out candy to all the little ghouls and goblins who were about to come knocking at your door for candy.
Just at dusk - and just as expected - little knuckles rapped at your front door. Excited exclamations of "Trick or Treat!" rang through your hallway as you opened the old, heavy, wooden door. Crazy masks, funny painted faces, and spooky costumes - parents and kids alike - thank you for the candy while complimenting your costume.
As the night came to an end, and the older crowd of kids - the teens who were still brave enough to go trick or treating despite their ages - waned, and you decided it was probably time to call it a night.
However, before you could, you had some clean up to do. One of the little shits had come by with silly string and sprayed it all over your car that was parked on the street right out front of your apartment. You knew if you didn't get that crap off, the paint would suffer the consequences.
With a sigh, you grabbed your broom and headed out, sweeping the mess of colored string from its windows, hood, and roof.
Standing on your tippy toes to reach the rest of the rooftop, and almost done, your body was suddenly pressed against your car, and a set of hands grabbed at your waist.
"I've been craving turtle soup all night." The voice was low, and the breath that made it to your nose from where he was whispering into your ear reeked of alcohol.
"Get off me!" you growled, bringing your elbow down and back to catch him in the gut.
But as it turns out, a carapace makes that little maneuver impossible.
The man chuckled as his hands moved lower to under your tutu to get access to the waist of your pants.
You started to yell for help, but the weight behind you disappeared with a shocked cry of pain.
Spinning, eyes wide, and with the broom at the ready, you found one of the vigilantes - standing on one foot with the other resting on top of your attacker.
His eyes slowly raked over your body from top to bottom, only to make their way back up to meet your eyes with a sassy smirk on his scarred lip.
"Cute costume. Wrong weapon, though," he chuckled, nodding to the broom.
Coming to your senses, you lowered the broom, shaking just a little as you looked at the oversized turtleman sporting a red bandana.
"Oh, god. I'm sorry. Thank you. Holy shit. Thank you for saving me."
He cocked his head and squinted at you, smirk spreading. The man under his foot squirmed and started to complain, but Raphael stooped down and squeezed the top of his shoulder until the man passed out.
Taking his foot off the man, he walked over to you and nodded at the mask, "Take that off for a sec?"
You do as he asked, and his smile widened. "Huh. It's you."
"It is definitely me," you told him, "but I'm not sure, exactly, what that might mean."
Raph extended his hand to formally introduce himself before asking if he could take a picture with you to send to his brother.
"Oh god, please don't-"
"Mikey," he clarified, "Tha one who wears-"
"Orange. Yeah. That's ok then."
Mask returned to its spot on your face, he leaned down with you, and you both smiled as he took a snapshot.
Sending it off, he excused himself for a moment, making a call to the NYPD to come pick up the scum from in front of your apartment.
Almost the moment he was off the phone, it was ringing. With a chuckle, he answered.
"YOOOOOOO!" You could hear a very excited Michelangelo on the other end of what must've been a video call, as Raph was looking at his phone screen with a smile so big it threatened to split his face in two.
"It gets bettah," he said, walking over to you. He flashed the phone in your direction, and Mikey gasped.
Raph turned the phone back to himself and laughed. "I'm invitin' her down to tha pahty."
Mikey let out a whooping laugh, exclaiming he couldn't wait.
"The party?" you inquired as he hung up.
"We have a pahty every year in our home," he told you, pointing to the street. "Only people we know personally are invited, so it's not like a huge pahty."
You were quiet for a moment as you contemplated. "But we just met."
He huffed out a laugh and shook his head. "Ya dressed like the stick in the mud 'imself. I think it might cheer 'im up to see ya, honestly."
Your eyebrows kissed the sky at this news. Curious as to why he needed cheering up. And more so, why he'd been referred to as a stick in the mud.
With a slight nod, you agreed. While Raph waited for the NYPD, you ran into your apartment to freshen up, put your broom away, and lock your doors.
Raph was just finishing up the statement with one of the officers as you came out of your apartment. The police asked you some questions, and you corroborated Raph's story.
"C'mon, kid," he said with that sassy smirk, nodding towards the end of the alleyway.
You followed him and your eyes rivaled the size of Jupiter as he squatted down to open the oversized manhole cover.
"Is this a joke?" You asked him, pulling another chuckle from him as he shook his head and signaled for you to go down the ladder first, like he was some kind of gentleman.
Looking down into the void, you hesitated.
"Not afraid of the dahk, are ya?"
You gave him a dirty look and moved to the ladder, carefully watching your footing so you wouldn't fall.
A few steps down, and lights popped on before another voice greeted you.
"I'm going to touch you. Your waist. The last few rungs aren't in the best shape."
A glance over your shoulder told you that the purple-banded one had joined you.
"Sorry it took so long," Raph said, pulling the cover over the hole and dropping down to the floor. "Kimberly was workin' and wouldn't stop asking questions," he emphasized with his brows.
The genius made an eek face before Raph continued.
"Until this one swooped in and saved the day," he said, pulling a chuckle from the pair of them.
"I didn't do anything?" you admitted, a bit confused.
Honied eyes moved up and down your body like Raph's had. "You did plenty, believe me. By the way, I'm Donatello. Don or Donnie works just fine, though."
You reached out and shook his hand, giving him your name even though you were still a bit confused. But you nodded and followed them as they headed down the tunnel.
"So. Leonardo?" Don asked, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
A bashful smile graced your lips as you looked down at your feet while you walked.
"Oh-ho-ho-ho!" Raph laughed.
"Blue wouldn't happen to be... your favorite color, per chance, now would it?" Don asked through a bit of a snicker.
You nodded and felt heat flood your face.
"It's a good conversation starter," Don paused, before continuing, "Leo's favorite color is also blue."
You couldn't help the laugh that fell out at his statement.
"I guess it would make things pretty awkward if it were red or purple, huh?" you sassed him back, making the pair laugh.
By the time you'd gotten to the lair, they knew almost everything there was to know about you, since they had asked you just about every question under the sun.
Name, birthday, job, hobbies, family, relationship status, your favorite... well, everything...
And you were now much more relaxed than you had been when you first came down into the sewer tunnel.
As you approached, you could see the spooky, yet club-like lighting adorning the lair. Halloween decor, both bought and crafted, was littered strategically around the place so it was tasteful and not over the top. Music was bumping, and a small group of people were talking, while others stood at a long line of tables full of food. Some people were dancing in the center of the open space under a shining disco ball.
"There she is!"
You looked over to find the orange bara running at you with his arms spread wide like he might bowl you over with a hug.
He didn't, though. He stopped just in front of you as he held out a hand for you to shake, and so you did.
"Michelangelo. You can call me whatever you like, though, sweetcheeks," he flirted, making his two brothers behind you groan. He wiggled his brow ridge as he took in your outfit, then asked you to spin so he could see the whole thing.
"You look amazing. I think you're the exact remedy for Cowabummer Leo."
You smirked at his overdramatics and clever use of his signature word.
"You really think this will cheer him up?" you asked, glancing around at the three of them. "I mean... I've never even met him..."
"Unequivocally. You dressed like that will certainly cheer him up."
Your brows furrowed as you squinted a little at the purple-banded brother. He sounded a little too sure. Ambiguously so.
Your accusatory gaze moved from Donatello and skimmed the room, but there was no sign of the turtleman in question.
"He's in the kitchen," Mikey informed you, that sharklike grin of his still plastered across his face.
And before you could ask, Don answered your question, "He's not big on crowds."
With a nod, you looked to the big brute, and he motioned for you to follow him.
Sticking close to the edge of the room to avoid being seen or nabbed by someone to chat and compliment your costume, Raph all but covered you in the shadow of his breadth as he delivered you to a small "hallway" where he pointed to a double-action door.
"Ignore 'im if he gets mouthy when ya first walk in. He ain't had the greatest week."
You took a deep breath and smoothed your hands over your outfit, being assured by Raph that you looked perfect.
With that boost of confidence, you strode forward, not even pausing at the door, and walked right into the kitchen.
"Go away."
Your heart broke a little at the sight of the leader slumped forward, his carapace towards the door that you'd just come through.
Without a word, and as quietly as a ninja, you moved towards him, walking around his side to look at him.
Elbows sturdied his forward position so he could shield his face while resting his forehead.
"I was told I might find you here..."
The sound of your voice brought him to an upright position, and he moved his hands away from his face. His eyes went comically wide as he got a glimpse of the pretty face staring back at him through a mask identical to his own.
It took him a few blinks before his brain seemingly returned to his noggin, and his jaw - which had made itself comfortable in his lap - had finally returned to its regularly scheduled position.
A shy smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth, and you shrugged in uncertainty.
His gaze dropped, and he took in your full appearance, his facial expression beginning to soften.
You were adorable.
He cleared his throat and forced himself to look back at the beautiful eyes staring at him.
"I heard you had a difficult week... and I know you don't know me, but I was hoping to at least make you smile," you explained, your hands grabbing one another and wringing each other.
wait... he knows your voice...
Realizing he was being rude to company, he stood up from his seat, towering over you, but smiled kindly.
"May I?" he asked, holding out his hand like Prince Charming, that boyish smirk making your stomach do backflips.
You placed your hand in his, only to be spun slowly. By the time you were facing him again, his grin had taken over his entire face - the smile reaching the shine in his eyes.
"You look amazing," he told you, still holding your hand. "Do I get to see who's behind the mask?" His eyes squinted, and a teasing smirk graced his pretty lips, "Or is this a secret identity situation?"
Heat flooded your face with the way he was looking at you. Reaching up with your other hand, you pulled your mask down and met his gaze.
For a moment, his smile faltered, and he had to resist the urge to pull you closer. A hard swallow followed his accusation.
"It's you."
His voice sounded almost devout as his hand tightened around yours.
"It is me," you said for the second time that night. "And just as I told your brother earlier, I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean." Your voice was soft, just above a whisper, as if you spoke any louder, you might frighten him away.
This pulled him from his reverie. "My brother?" He inquired, his hand loosening just a bit. "Where- How ..." He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath as he regrouped. "Who invited you to the party." It wasn't so much a question as it was an accusation.
"Raph?" You informed him, slowly gathering that it might be a problem.
Leo's jaw clenched, and he started to pull his hand from yours, but you held tight and wouldn't let him.
Relaxing, he looked back down at you - you with big doe eyes that were pleading for him to listen.
He nodded, and you continued, "He saved me from being..." You paused for a moment and thought about your next sentence. "From being another man's treat for the evening."
Leo's hand tightened around yours again, and this time he pulled you closer.
"Someone tried to hurt you?" He was on high alert, his eyes scanning you for injuries, vigilant and piercing. It was almost like he was trying to find traces of this man for vengeful purposes.
"Hey." He'd pulled you close enough now that you could rest your free hand on his chest to grab his attention.
Which absolutely got his attention, and his free hand moved to cover yours immediately.
"I'm ok. The worst he did was trap me against my car for less than fifteen seconds," you reassured him.
It took him a minute, but he nodded and refused to let you go.
"I just happened to still be dressed up in my costume from handing out candy to trick or treaters," you confessed with half an embarrassed smirk.
That devastating smile crossed his face again. A smile that screamed he found your dressing up for the kids adorable.
"And, I was your choice of costume?" He inquired, one brow quirked, making you huff out an embarrassed laugh.
His hand lifted from where it was resting atop yours on his chest, and he hooked a finger under your chin to lead your eyes back up to his. "I'm unbelievably flattered," he said softly.
"Really?" Your eyes searched his face for any signs of teasing, but you found none.
His eyes left yours, and he swallowed. His hand moved from your chin to tug at the mask hanging around your neck, pinching it between his finger and thumb.
"You have no idea."
His voice was so low. So soft. And you hoped, hoped that whatever he was holding back from saying was exactly what your dressing as him said.
But how could it?
You scolded yourself over the little fairytale you'd been having in your head, and instead allowed all the mean voices to remind you of all the fish in all the seas. And how he didn't even know you. And that clearly it was just a huge compliment to have someone dress up as him, like he was a superhero. Because he WAS a superhero.
He saw the sudden change in your demeanor, concerned.
"Well, I'm glad I was able to cheer you up," you told him, feeling your heart fall out of your chest.
However, he held you steady as you tried to pull away from him.
"You," he said quietly. "I, um... This is probably going to sound insane — Make me sound insane… but I was the one who saved you back in high school that night. The night that creep tried to –"
A small gasp left your lungs without your authority to do so, and the words tumbled from your lips. "That was you?!"
He was the one embarrassed now as he huffed out a laugh. "Yeah. After that, I kinda took to making sure you got home safely every night."
It was your turn to have your jaw make itself comfortable on the floor.
"All through high school. Into college. All those years you worked the swing shift for the hotel... Every time you walked down to Joe's to get takeout... After every date stupid enough to make you walk home alone... and maybe after every date in general…" he mumbled that last bit so soft you almost missed it.
But you hadn't missed it.
And you stood there, dumbfounded.
"I may or may not have threatened that Craig guy... You know... the one who tried to kiss you multiple times even though you told him no over and over..."
You wanted to kiss him.
He had been your knight in shining armor without your knowing. And for how long?
However, you were also incredibly annoyed with him.
"Wha —" you paused for a moment and collected yourself. "Why didn't you ever introduce yourself?!" You practically scolded him.
Eyes wide, he stumbled over his words a bit. "Well... I mean..." Gesturing to himself, he gave you a pointed look.
"Yeah. I see you. You're an enormous hot ass turtleman," you complained, giving him the same pointed look in return.
The look of surprise as his eyebrows hit the ceiling told you everything. He clearly didn't see himself how you saw him.
"I wanted to keep you safe... I didn't want to scare you!" He bargained, pulling you against him so he could move his hands to your waist.
Pouting up at him with a scowl and furrowed brows, he bit back a smirk.
You were absolutely adorable.
Then he watched as your brain calculated all the information he'd just spilled to you in his moment of panicked confessional to keep you from running away.
"Wait, wait, wait," you said, thinking back and counting how many years he'd apparently been following you. "You've been keeping me safe for... for like… TWENTY SOMETHING YEARS???"
Leo huffed in embarrassment and nodded.
"YOU." You closed your eyes and thunked your head against his plastron. "I appreciate you keeping me safe. But also, fuck you."
Leo pulled you back and looked down at you, concerned.
"Excuse me?"
"I said, 'Fuck. You.'"
"Yes. That I heard. Now, why?" It was a demand.
"You prevented me from meeting the man I've been head over heels with for most of my life," you whispered, looking down at the floor.
"Most… Most of your life?"
"I've been… Yeah. Most." You decided against telling him the obscene number of times you'd watched and rewatched every interview and talk show he'd appeared on since they'd revealed their existence.
"How long is most?"
It appeared he wasn't going to let it slide.
"Right after that alien invasion," you confessed, still refusing to look at him.
He was quiet. Too quiet.
Devestatingly beautiful blue eyes stared down at you with the intensity of a category five hurricane. Lips descended on yours, stopping a hairbreadth apart to whisper, "This ok?" before capturing your lips when you nodded.
Warm.
Gentle.
Sensual.
Clinging to him, you tried to pull yourself closer as he silently communicated the feelings he'd held in for decades.
He was the one who broke the kiss, nuzzling you as you chased his lips, wanting nothing more than another taste of his sweet affection.
He chuckled. "So, I take it that you're not seeing that guy anymore?"
His odd question made you yank away from his nuzzling. "What guy?"
Leo furrowed his brow ridge, "The one you've been going on dates with for the last six weeks?"
"Leo… I… What are you talking about? I haven't dated anyone… In years. Probably more than a decade at this rate," you mumbled the last sentence to yourself. And now you were really confused. "Who in the world? You sure you were trailing the right person?" You teased him, biting back a smirk.
A crease formed as his brow ridge furrowed further. "Not me…" he said, "My colleague Kim-" He stopped himself before seemingly coming to a realization. "I've been busy across the city helping with a special project with the homicide team, so I asked someone to keep an eye on you while I couldn't watch over you…"
Your heart was slamming so hard you were afraid it might actually crack a rib.
"…But I think I may have been given some incorrect information. For reasons I suspect may have been for selfish gain. But that doesn't matter right now. I will deal with that later," he said, his eyes softening again as they roamed your features.
He leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead.
"Can I ask why you were in such a sour mood?"
A self-depreciating huff of laughter left him, and he squeezed you tighter. "Because it was the longest you'd dated someone. I thought I'd really lost my chance… Usually by the third date, you were apologizing and telling them things weren't going to work out."
"Wow, you really are a big creep, huh?" you sassed, squeezing him.
Prince Charming made an appearance again, and the smile he gave you made you weak in the knees.
Literally.
Luckily, he'd decided to stoop and scoop you up like a princess.
"Yup."
His unapologetic admission had your head thrown back with laughter, as he rumbled a laugh himself.
Regaining composure, you turn your million-watt smile and sparkling eyes back at his handsome features.
He searched your face for a moment before he confessed again, "But only for you." The severity of his earnestness was sobering. "Ever."
Had he not been holding you, you would have melted in a little puddle in front of him.
"Now. Enough sulking. It's time for some fun."
Without waiting for an answer, he swept you out of the kitchen and to the party for a couple of hours before his brothers started their relentless suggestive comments, which had your face hotter than lava while you laughed at their bold stupidity at their attempts to embarrass the blue bara.
His eyes rarely left you all night — even now, as he sat beside you in a circle that consisted of you, him, and his brothers. And he always kept one hand touching you — like he was trying to make sure this was real, or maybe ensuring you wouldn't run away. Either way, the soft expression on his face clearly proved his brothers weren't having any effect on him. Actually, the smirk playing at the corner of his mouth almost implied he was enjoying their shenanigans.
A glance at his watch had Mike commenting how shocked he was that Leo was still up since it was way past his bedtime.
Pulling his hand from yours, he stretched his arms above his head and rolled his shoulders before standing up.
"You're right. It is bedtime."
You deflated a little, having hoped you could spend a little more time with him tonight, but you understood the necessity of sleep. Especially for him, since he had to remain vigilant working with the police department.
"Oh man," Mike commented, realizing he was the cause of the disappointment on your face. Then he smiled like a wolf and took one last shot at embarrassing his eldest brother, while trying to make amends. "Not even gonna see if she wants to try on the real thing?" He asked, nodding at Leo as the other two shook their heads.
Your eyes went wide, but you couldn't disguise the hope that shone in your eyes as you turned and looked at Leo.
"Well… I already know I look good on her," he declared, gesturing to your costume. A sultry smirk crept across his face as he glanced at each of his brothers before landing on you. "Now it's time to find out how good she looks on me."
He gave you a quick wink before reaching his hand out to you, asking you to join him.
"Trick or treat?" you asked him with a hint of sarcasm.
His smirk only grew wider with your playfulness.
"Treat. But I definitely have a few tricks up my sleeve if you're interested."
You slid your hand into his with a telling giggle, and as he led you towards his room, he yelled over his shoulder, "If you hear moaning… We're just getting into the Halloween spirit."
Please don't steal my work. Reblogging for others to enjoy is highly encouraged, though🤩
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Kinktober: Day 5
Frostbite
Bay!Donnie x Fem!reader
Hands + Clothed Sex + Cold
Warnings: pre-established relationship, praise, hand kink (same girl), homegirl is ovulating, clothed sex, fingering, unprotected sex, spelling mistakes, PURE SMUT
Let’s go on a weekend trip, he said. It’ll be fun, he said.
You silently huff to yourself, wrapping your blanket tighter around your shaking shoulders.
In every other way, this was a fantastic idea on your boyfriends part. A weekend getaway to Casey’s family cabin in the country, just the two of you and the bright open night in mid October air.
The one problem. You’re ovulating and haven’t had Donnie alone in ages. Both of your jobs and families had kept you busy and you were desperate for some lovin’ from this tall terrapin.
And everything he did only served to turn you on more, even if it was ridiculous. Like now, he’s simply starting a fire in the metal cage on the porch to help warm you. But your mind is stuck on his hands, how he places the logs just right, then ignites the flames and wipes the dirt on his pants.
Gods, you wanted those pants off.
“There we are,” He said, blissfully oblivious to your damp panties. Not for long.
You cuddled into his side, looking out over the lake. It was beautiful here, a rustic log cabin right on the edge of a lake with a big forest surrounding it. The sun had set, the sky a wonderful mix of navy and royal blue with sprinklings of stars among the clouds.
His arm wrapped around you, tucking you close to his warm body. You set your hand on his thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. Donnie kissed the top of your head, pressing his lips to your hairline before moving his free hand to your thigh, giving it the same squeeze.
Turning more toward him, you leaned up and kissed at his collarbones. Nipping and licking at his neck, you hear him inhale sharply. His hand tightens on your leg, his finger running along the inside seam of your jeans.
Letting out a breathy sigh, Donnie leaned down and kissed your neck, making your pulse race. “Donnie,” You moan softly, nails biting into his leg.
He pulled back, unwrapping your blanket and laying it down on the large loveseat you’re sitting on. He pushes you to lay down, looming over you with blown pupils. The fire dances over his skin, making the brown in his hazel eyes pop.
He kisses you soundly, licking at the seam of your lips. You bite his bottom lip, making him moan into your mouth. You smooth your tongue into his mouth, your hands climbing up his chest and arms.
Donnie pulls away, panting. “Let’s take this upstairs?” His breath fans across your face.
You shake your head. “I want you here,” You take one of his hands, the other bracing on the cushion above your head. You put his hands on your mound over your jeans. He groaned at the warmth coming from you. “Right now,”
He smiled up at you, leaning back on his knees to quickly undo your jeans. A breeze washed over the lake making you shiver. Maybe you should head inside-
Donnie slipped his hand under your jeans and underwear, rubbing at your folds. “Oh!” You moaned loud, bucking against his hand. Your face and neck flushed deep red, your hands gripping his biceps.
“You like that?” You nod aggressively, moving your hips in time with his hand. “I was wondering how long it would take you to jump me,”
You blink your eyes at him. “What?”
He chuckled. “You really think I had no idea? You think I accidentally planned a weekend getaway while you’re ovulating?”
Heat flashed through you, the cold October air long forgotten.
“I did it on purpose, baby,” He leaned down and kissed at your neck, sucking on your collarbones. “I’ve got you all to myself for 72 hours,”
“Donnie” You moan, your hands slipping down his jacket covered chest to his pants. You undid the belt and pulled down the zipper. He groaned softly at the movement, rubbing hard circles on your clit. “I need you,”
“I need you too,” He pulled his hand out of your pants and tugged them and your underwear down just below your ass. He grabbed your hips and flipped you on your stomach. He pulled your pants down just a little more before adjusting himself.
Looking over your shoulder you see him take himself out through the hole in his boxers and give it a hard stroke. You whined and gripped the blanket under you.
Donnie leaned over you, his weight keeping you pinned down. You felt the head of his cock tease your folds. Slowly, in a smooth thrust, he moved inside you. You moaned out, sweat breaking out along the back of your neck.
Donnie adjusted himself, spreading his knees over your legs and leaning forward, his elbows on either side of your head.
“Donnie, I need more, please,” You gripped his hand and he intertwined your fingers.
“I know, I know,” He moaned into your hair, thrusting in more. Slowly he moved and out, getting you used to the angle. “Fuck, you’re so wet,”
“I’ve needed you so bad, baby,” You moan, pushing your ass back to meet his thrusts.
“You’ve got it baby, you’ve got it,” He moans with you, thrusting all the way inside you. Your eyes cross as he does it again and again, your thighs pressing together, making him moan at how tight it made you.
Moving your hair to the side, he leaned down and peppered your neck with kisses and nips. You rolled your hips back. “Donnie,” You whine, feeling that band start to build in your lower stomach.
You’re not sure how long the two of you stay like that, watching the fire flicker and the stars glow as he pounds into you. Your thighs burn, you’re covered in sweat and you’re going to cum again. You don’t know how he’s held on as long as he as, but your body is not complaining.
“F-fuck,” His hips stutter as you clench and moan around him, nearly pushing him out. Your back arches and you squeeze his hand hard.
His hand moves to cup your face, turning you to look at him over your shoulder. He kisses you hard, sucking on your lips and stealing the very breath from your lungs. You look up at him, dazed.
“Did you cum?” You rock back and find him still hard inside you.
He shakes his head. “I wanted to make sure you came before I asked if we could go inside, it’s really cold out here,”
You laugh, smacking kisses on his lips and cheeks. “Yes, baby of course we can,”
“Thank Gods,” He murmured in your ear, scoping you up in his arms and rushing the both of you into the house. You couldn’t suppress the giggles escaping you. “I was sure I’d get frostbite on my balls,”
You kissed his neck. “Then let’s warm you up,”
@thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @thelaundrybitch @leosgirl82 @avery73 @eveandtheturtles @ninnosaurus @milykins @sophiacloud28 @yorshie
Cold Hands, Warm Lips
This is February's prompt from the lovely @thelaundrybitch just the phrase 'cold hands, warm lips'. With how cold and unrelenting this winter has been I decided to build on that, cold winter storm, your TOC stumbling into your apartment, who better to warm him up than you?
I tried to do something different for this one-shot and in the spirit of Valentine's Day this is a choose-your-own-turtle fic. Please leave a comment to let me know who you envisioned while reading this.
Happy Valentine's Day!
As always, thank you @adebauchedsloth for beta reading this!
Note: This does contain smut, all characters are aged-up. Adult activities between two consenting adults. (How else did you think you were gonna warm him up?) 😉
The predicted winter storm had arrived earlier than expected. Thick, clumped snowflakes floated past your window on their mission to cover the city in white. A sudden drop in temperature and fierce wind had everyone hunkering down indoors, waiting for it to pass.
Some of your neighbours had even stocked up on water and non-perishables in case the power went out. You’d picked up a few of these items, but what worried you more than a possible power outage was the fact that you hadn’t heard from your boyfriend, who was actually a mutant turtle, in over two hours. The last thing he’d texted you was that he was heading on a quick patrol around the city before the storm began, and it had already been raging for over an hour.
He was always a little vague about how some of his ‘turtleness’ worked, which you suspected was from a desire for you not to worry. But you did worry, so you had done your homework on him. Being a mesothermic being, he generated his own heat but had difficulty maintaining his body temperature, especially in the face of unexpected freezing temperatures. Pacing worriedly, you texted him once more, asking him to please let you know if he was safe and back in the lair. Too much cold could mean his body would go into brumation—a type of hibernation unique to reptiles.
It was another hour before you were startled awake by the scrape of your balcony door, the shock of cold and wind jolting you upright.
“F-f-fuck… s-stupid… d-door.”
It was him! You almost tripped over yourself to get to where he was still struggling with the door, his hands shaking from the cold.
“I got it.” You said, taking over for him and sweeping as much snow as you could from the bottom of the door so you could close it properly.
He took a few steps back, slowly, almost as if he was still wading through deep snow despite being indoors.
He needed some warming up, starting with a hug.
“I was so worried…” It felt like hugging a block of ice. His outerwear was freezing, and if survival shows taught you anything, he needed to get out of his wet clothes immediately and gradually raise his core body temperature.
Stiffly, he managed to hug you back and pressed his ice-cold snoot into your neck, causing you to exhale sharply. “S-sorry baby, storm started early.”
You noticed he was shaking and felt like scolding him for being so reckless. Usually, he and his brothers stayed in the lair during winter. Trips outside were strictly limited, reserved for emergencies only.
“You promised me you were going to be more careful…” you whispered, concern in your gaze and a lump in your throat as you looked up at him.
There was regret in his eyes as he hugged you tighter, still having trouble forming words from being so cold still. “I know…w-we had to, people were getting hurt.”
Likely, their mission was assigned to them by Chief Vincent herself, something that could not be easily ignored. You nodded and stepped back to unzip his coat and push the garment off his broad shoulders.
It hit the ground with a heavy thud, showing how much snow and water it had soaked up. His hat was next, then his wet gloves, and finally, his boots. As quickly as possible, his wet belongings were either hung up or placed on the vent to dry.
He was still shivering as you led him to the bathroom. With trembling hands, he tried to undo his pants while you started the shower, but his frozen fingers were stiff and uncooperative.
Gently taking over for him, you began to unzip them. “Let me.”
“Thanks,” he whispered, standing still so you could finish undressing him. He looked so tired that you had to work quickly. Pants and underwear gone, you checked the water temperature one more time before telling him to get in. Not too hot and not too cold, warm enough that it wasn’t a shock to his system.
He sighed softly as the warmth seeped into him. “Feels good…”
At first, you simply watched him, feeling relieved that he was finally warming up. Your intention was to let him enjoy his shower while you prepared something hot to eat and drink for him, but when you turned to leave, there was a quiet protest.
“Wait…”
“Hm?” Switching direction, you went back to see what he needed.
“Come in with me?” It was a seemingly small request that belied the promise of something more, and you couldn’t find it within yourself to deny him.
“Alright.” You smiled. Disrobing slowly, you placed your clothes with his. You could feel the heat of his gaze, yet he made no move to touch you until you stepped into the shower within reach.
You were pressed against his chest, a solid mass of tough plastron and muscle, still slightly chilled, causing you to shiver. His hands were cold, but as he tilted your face up to kiss your mouth, his lips were warmer.
Suddenly, the chill didn’t seem quite so bad, and you could feel him growing stronger, absorbing both the warmth of your body and the shower stream. It drew a groan from his throat as you deepened the kiss, pressing yourself closer to him.
Cold forgotten, a fire was now sparking between you two, the embers fluttering to life in your belly. His large hands were all over you, sliding down your back and cupping your ass while he broke from your lips to give the skin between your neck and shoulder a few playful nips.
You let loose a giggle and gasped out half-heartedly, “Stop…your hands are cold…” and felt him rumble back, “Mm…and you’re so warm.” Now you felt hot kisses and a soft sucking on your pulse point as he began marking you as his.
It made you gasp, especially when you felt him lift you up, pressing you against the shower wall so he could access your chest now. This was much easier, and you could tell by his wicked grin that he was far from finished with you.
Wrapping your legs around him, you cupped his face, playfully squishing his cheeks with a slight smirk. “I’m going to let you continue, but promise me you won’t scare me like that again.” You paused, rephrasing the last part since your request was perhaps a tad unrealistic, considering he's both a ninja and a vigilante. “At least try not to. I can’t have a turtlesicle for a boyfriend.”
He laughed, nodding while kissing your playful pout, as you slipped your hands around his neck. “That would make things difficult.” He sobered then, fixing you with an apologetic look as he continued. “Listen, though I can’t promise this will be the last time I come stumbling in like this, I can promise that I’ll always make it up to you.”
“Always?”
“Always.”
Overcome by the sudden urge to kiss him, you didn’t hesitate, expressing your love for him with as much enthusiasm as you could muster.
It was he who took control of the kiss, pressing you more against the tiled wall of your shower and groaning his approval while his tongue slipped inside to tangle with yours.
The shower still ran, soaking you both as a different type of slick gathered between your thighs. The need crackling between you both as he rocked against your core, his tail curling underneath himself.
Sex with him could be slow and methodical. It could also be quick and dirty, and the latter seemed to be correct in this case; you could already feel the tip of his manhood at your entrance.
Cupping your breast and pushing it up, you gave a soft cry as he nearly enveloped the entire thing in his mouth, licking, sucking and flicking your nipple with his tongue. You felt him rumble against your skin as the second breast received the same treatment as the first.
“Gonna drop into you…” He murmured, grinding against your center. “Can I?”
He was already in position, aching for you, trying to hold back from releasing himself right then and there. Ever the gentleman, he still needed your consent before continuing. “Yes… fuck, please, yes…” You quickly replied, nearly incoherent from how much you needed this.
Making extra sure he was positioned correctly, he still entered you slowly, filling you inch by inch. This part of him was a bit cold still, and you gasped with the contrast of how he slid into the confines of your warmth.
His entire body trembled, struggling to stay in control and not rut into you like an animal. Your warmth was like fire, seeping into him as if it were the most precious substance on Earth.
“So hot…you feel…incredible… I can’t…” he bucked his hips once, and you both moaned, you clamping your legs more tightly around him on instinct.
“Don’t hold back then… I need you.”
At your admission, he unleashed a growl of pure satisfaction, finally giving you what you’d both been craving. In that moment, you felt as feral as he, a slave to your primal urges. Instead of being in your modest apartment-sized shower, you imagined the two of you in a cozy, warm cave, tucked away from the blowing snow and freezing temperatures. He made you feel wild and exhilarating in a way no one else ever could.
His thrusts were unrelenting, slow at first but quick to make you gasp and tremble in his arms. Breath quickening, you cried out that you were already getting close. His cock buried deep, hitting you in all the right places.
He managed a grin of self-satisfaction when hearing you admit that, because he knew. He always could tell when you were close to your release. It was the way your breathing sped up, how your body tensed and squirmed, thighs trembling, and the ensuing string of curses that could even make a sailor blush.
“C’mon then…don’t hold back either…let me see just how good I’m making you feel.”
A few well-placed thrusts later, you were there, like the raging winter storm, drowning in white-hot pleasure and crying out his name.
Now it was his turn to curse. The feel of you clenching and tightening around his cock was his undoing.
“Fuck…fuck, I’m gonna…” clutching you so tightly it was sure to leave marks, he delivered one final, deep thrust that made you see stars.
He growled loudly enough for you to feel it in your bones as he released himself inside you. Breathing heavily, you fell limp in his arms, a testament to the intense session of lovemaking.
The shower was growing cold, yet he still held you close, kissing you with reverence and a deep appreciation for you and everything you meant to him.
“I love you…” It was whispered so softly, almost as if he was afraid someone might overhear.
“I love you too.” It was both a declaration and a promise, no matter what, even if he did come stumbling in again like this, that you’d love him still; nothing was going to change that.
Finally, he helped you get back on your feet, and after a quick rinse, it was time to dry off and get cozy. Together, you went to get dressed—you on shaky legs and him moving to steady you. He opted for a pair of soft grey joggers, while you picked the comfiest pyjamas you owned.
Outside, the storm was showing no sign of stopping, but you were both safe and cozy in your apartment. Even after dinner was eaten and you were cuddled up on the couch, a sudden power outage was of no concern to you.
After all, you had plenty of ways to keep warm.
End
Taglist:
@thelaundrybitch @iridescentflamingo @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus @the-cauldron-witch
@thepinkpanther83 @avery73 @adebauchedsloth @sophiacloud28 @definitely-canon
@scholastic-dragon @truffle-reblogs @fyreball66 @yorshie @jenuinelycurious
@chadobi @theanonymousninja247
As its around my birthday I've decided to conquer my fear and post something again. Please enjoy! I hit a bad snag at the end, so I completely rewrote this, but I'm not abandoning the idea behind it.
Thank you @imababblekat for THIS post which started the chain of ideas! (If the live link dosn't work here is the full URL:https://www.tumblr.com/imababblekat/739213659721580544/taking-care-of-baby-mutant-turtle-w-donnie-hcs?)
Summary: You're helping the turtles with a quick look around a lab. However, you find something completely unexpected and you must take it back to the lair.
Pairing: Reader x Donatello!
Warnings: Fluff! i did my best at doing a self insert without y/n. I'm using [Name] and you instead. Minimal editing.
This is a LONG POST! I am NOT kidding when I say this is 14 pages in google docs.
Sitting down on one of the lair’s couches you could finally take a moment to look down at the sleeping baby turtle in your arms and to slowly absorb how much your life has changed within the last 24 hours. With the arrival of April - and a duffel bag of your clothes from your apartment - you were finally able to give Donnie his sweater back after your shower. The baby was silent and sleeping. However, from personal experience if you weren’t holding them then there would be a crying fit. Donnie was working on his laptop just off to your right as he was looking through the data you were able to help him recover. Hopefully he was able to find lab reports of the intent behind the creation of what was in your arms. If worse comes to worse then the back doors Donnie hid in the ‘mandatory security update’ on the place you infiltrated would work to get what health reports the medical scientists took about the baby in your arms. Thinking on Splinters words on meditation you took a few calming breaths in and out through your nose. Ideally you would exhale through your mouth, but again didn’t want to wake the finally asleep baby in your arms. You were finally able to process what had happened.
~24 hours ago~
This wasn’t the first nor last time that you helped your favourite turtles with a small favour. However, this time there was the thrill of adventure and danger as you were subtly breaking into a secure lab facility to do so. Donnie found another lab studying some of the leftover mutagen from the Kraang invasion they stopped. This was a high priority as there were details of ordering animals as well. This was a large company so the unspecified animals could be heading to a different area of this building but better to be safe then sorry. The turtle brothers didn’t like to put their human friends in danger more then they had to. As April was off on a different story for her job it was up to your skills to get into the particularly unusual room. One which had hidden weights installed in the floors. Set to a maximum of 300 pounds. This room had its own internal system which wasn’t easily accessible off site. From inside the shell raiser I was listening to the last minute details that Donnie had found, while I perfected my older woman disguise. I was going in as an unassuming lab cleaner. If I was talked to I had a plethora of suitable ‘grandma’ topics to cover. Including -but not limited to- a fictitious couple of grandchildren, embroidery, quilting, a small herb garden, and even political takes which parallel the most common ideas and opinions held by women older than 55.
Donnie had finished his explanation on how the spy glasses. As per his usual perfectionist nature intentionally timed just perfectly as I finished putting on the brown and grey speckled wig. Smiling, I accepted the glasses he was holding out.
“Just double checking I’ll be able to see the expected floor layout to adhere to while on my shift at work.” I said applying visual quotation marks around shift and work. Putting on the glasses without any worry. As expected, they showed up the floor plan of the building and a small red dot outside where I could just follow the dashed red lines. “Absolutely incredible, Donnie. I can see how much work went into this, especially making it so intuitive to use;” Intentionally looking into his golden, lightly green eyes “Its genius! Thinking of possibly adding this to a spare set of your own frames?”
“Ah-Uhm Thank you, and the answer is maybe. I’m not sure how well my prescription would work with the hardware. Though I am glad that it worked out well in how small and intricate these turned out to be.”
“That's fair, now let me get into character. Anything else you think I’ll need to keep in mind?”
“No. Remember we’ll be in your ear ready to go just in case the worst happens.” Donnie replied quickly, looking away to look at the screens, one of which was showing the feed from the camera.
Leo butted in “Just in case everything goes poorly and needs an extraction; You still have your weapons right?"
“Yes I do. I gotta go now. I’ll see you in a few hours. I can’t go straight to that mysterious lab room.”
Grabbing your appropriate grandma sweater before leaving the shell raiser. The next few hours leading up to getting ever closer to the lab room are nerve wracking but also pass by quick as you listen to the brothers and overhear the conversations happening around you. As part of the daytime janitorial staff you weren’t really stopped or talked to too much by other employees and delivery drivers.
Finally the next step in this charade was entering that specific lab #17 “Action time” I muttered over the com. That was the key phrase for Donnie to specifically pay attention. The passkey was accepted the same as it was for the others. After the door closed behind me I made sure I was alone. This granny’s background was as an employee of one of the many weekend building cleaning services offered. If something goes wrong and its caught that this random identity is linked to a data breach, it'll happen to a company already corrupt and beginning to be investigated. As expected and outlined by Donnie and Leo, all of the scientists on staff go home for the weekend, but there were other services necessary for the building and so there were many other staff people. Making one more blend seamlessly into the background.
Donnie’s voice whispers across the line “Alright, I see a possible computer.” I look towards the largest computer in the room. Somethings the obvious choice is the right one “Yes, yes, great job following the source.”
To keep up the ruse, and to ensure as much safety as possible. I followed the same pattern as the other previous rooms I’ve cleaned. Grab the largest broom to sweep up spots, crevices, and the occasional spiderweb. “I approached the largest computer at the 6 desks off in one corner of the room. I take brief looks at the tables and areas I passed. As well as the typical large windows to see the city. I noticed a few clear containers with what looked like some type of ferns in. I had my curiosity peaked.
“I’ll head there next," I whispered.
At the desks I heard Leo call for quiet in the background “Alright, they’ve gone with a sleeker design for this monitor. A kept desk too.”
“They’ll likely notice if things are shuffled” I surmised for Donnie
“Yep.” He agreed, popping the P. I crouched down following the wires. The stereotypical set up, one with many USB ports, absolutely perfect. Slyly palming Donnie's USB. Still with the ruse ‘sweeping’ under the desk then outside of the camera angle having the two match.
Continuing the ruse - and halfheartedly doing the other desks. I was able to confirm initial suspicions. Chuckling a little.
“Any type of alarms set yet Donnie?” I asked.
“Negative there. It's like you doubt me” He joked back.
“Not in the least,” Walking towards the containers I saw earlier. “But this room is smaller than the other rooms.”
“True that.” He agreed easily. “Oh…” pausing for a movement to absorb what I was seeing. “Well that’s a surprise.”
Right in front of me was a mutated turtle about the size of my forearm - thankfully asleep. I knew from one of the few times that Splinter was able to show me a few of his beloved pictures of his boys growing up -always to the embarrassment of them, but knowing they couldn’t really do anything about it.
“I can’t leave them here.” I came to a conclusion first. Thinking fast “I can call for a lunch break after this room. That’s when I leave.”
Leo took over now “I agree.”
Donnie “Take them and get out.”
“ I need to put the glasses down for a moment” I dropped the camera facing the wall. I grabbed the cardigan I had on abandoning all subtly. Donnie could scrub the cameras later. I wore a flowy tank top underneath knowing it would be warm in the over layers for the disguise. I took it off and created a makeshift cloth baby carrier. Taking it off entirely using the straps to create a firm lower barrier and knotting it behind my back. I grabbed the baby and placed it in, using the loose flowy bottom hem to tie around my neck then halfway down my back, ensuring the tension was around the durable shell.
Hearing the chaos of losing sight over the com. I joked “Listen guys, its the difference of being comfortable in a bikini at the pond at Aprils farm house vs when Leo walked in on me shaving while on that same trip”
This did the trick and Mikey covered the swell of noise with his “Yea Bro! You slammed your face right into the door frame. It almost broke!”
I chuckled along with Donnie and Raph as Leo once again tried defending himself.
Chuckling along I pulled back into the cardigan - making sure they were still secure and had some measure of access to fresh air. I grabbed the glasses and put them back on as I made my way towards the computer again. Continuing to loosen the atmosphere “I said I forgive you a long while Leo. You don’t have to worry. They're as secure as I cam make them right now. How soon can you finish it Donnie?”
“Almost there. We’ll get out out asap!”
“Leo I need a new meeting location. There could be a tracking chip.” I stated as the thought came to my head.
“On it. How soon will the harness hold? Not long I assume.”
“Correct. I’ll also need to loose the jacket soon after exiting the building to disappear. Can someone please grab the emergency disguise duffel? This shirt is toast.”
Leo responded immediate “Understood.”
Donnie interrupted briefly “I still need a few more minutes before you can get out.” though I was able to hear Leo tell Mikey to grab that duffel bag.
The next few minutes grew tenser as Donnie worked as efficiently as possible. During this time Leo told me a rooftop a block and a half away. I made a private bet with myself that while I hoped it was Donnie to carry me up, ultimately Raph would be the one who carried me up the fire escape.
“Got it!” Donnie exclaimed immediately afterwords Leo “Get outta there [Name]!”
“Don't need to tell me twice.” I muttered. Grabbing the flash drive then my janitorial cart and getting out of the lab. I had a brief thought that there might be someone on the other side of the door, but despite my fears the path towards the hallway, down one of the elevators, and returning the cart to its original spot went flawlessly. Though I passed a handful of people none glanced twice in my direction.
Even exiting the building, going through the side door for staff was the next hurdle. There was a security guard. Thankfully it only took a few moments of rambling about taking a lunch break to call back an imaginary son. Before their eyes glazed over and dismissing their presence. For their disguise personality you continued on a few more minutes talking about “Oh did you know about their newest grandchild. Just barely started to roll over. They’re my first grand child I couldn’t be more proud.” Then making their way easily through the exit.
Now comes your favorite time. It makes you feel like your living the life as a paid spy. Hiding from cameras. You and April practice doing this on the fly and have Donnie suing cameras to try and find the two of you. Its like advanced hide and seek. Everyone has a great time while also flexing and practicing their skills. It certainly helps that Donnie sometimes has an extra bonus objective to see when and where either of us purchased a small treat for all of us to share afterwords.
Spotting a trash can just outside of a restaurant I preemptively started undoing buttons on my cardigan, then tossed it and the wig into the can quickly and naturally as if it never happened. Also resisting the urge to slightly shiver as the entirety of my back was exposed, Though I did notice the continuing increase of movement from the baby. I continued my walk towards the new meetup location, I subtle snagged a pair of large sunglasses off a rack, tossing the most obvious clues that it wasn’t purchased into my pocket, sliding them on my face. Before exiting the mass produced courtyard I also grabbed a hair clip. Thanking my lucky stars that there wasn’t any plastic packaging to contend with.
Feeling something warm and wet on my bare chest I took stock of it for a moment while I made a pit stop out of the way of cameras to put my hair into a sloppy up and down hairdo. Thinking back to my times volunteering in various hospitals with young children and my siblings and cousins when they were infants. Looking down I was once again thankful for how small the baby turtle was and the thickness of the tops material. There wasn't a shell visible, if I was asked I could play it off as a baby bump.
“Donnie please make a note in the medical files your probably making that the baby has a latching instinct. Side note, they’re hungry. It’ll hopefully be easier to feed them through a bottle. But then there is the matter of formula..” I trailed off.
Mikey's voice took over the om for a moment “Wait did the baby really-”
Before being cut off by his brothers “MIKEY!”
I decided to ignore the comment musing aloud “I’m not sure if formula will be alright. I only vaguely know that non-mutated turtles require veggies over fruit for their diet. Before they draw attention by crying I’m stopping by that smoothie place across the street for something veggie filled. Unless..” trailing off again. Opening the com for discussion.
Donnie immediately agreed “That'll be the best under these circumstances. We’ll make our way to you too.”
“The cameras within the room, how often do they save to an external cloud? Unfortunately I want hiding. Maybe an accidental disruption, server crash, at worst Internet goes down for a bit, conveniently interrupting the back up process? I know we were trying it hardest to avoid doing a more extreme measure” I broached as I briefly thought of my suspicious actions in the lab.
“Not to worry! I've done something to that extent.”
“Wonderful” I whispered as I strode confidently into the smoothie bar and immediately getting in like there was only two people. During the wait I looked at the menu, there was a whole section of green smoothies with things like Kale and spinach. I quickly was in front of the register.
After the mandatory customer service full force special asking what I wanted to order, I answered ‘Not gonna lie, my cravings demand that I need a smoothie with as much liquid leafy greens as possible with no dairy, no Protein powder, minimal ice, and not very sweet or bitter. Can that be made?” taking a quick look at their name tag. Their name was Sam.
“Absolutely, that can. I'd recommend the greenery menu, as you mentioned wanting kale and Spinach in particular we have the Power Rabbit with both of those and only sweetened with Apples and our berry mixture. We have several non-dairy substitutes, but I'd recommend the coconut water. It's unsweetened, but it adds a great flavor with subtle sweetness. We can easily exclude the protein powder”
“Perfect. I'll have that in the largest size you can legally give me”
“Of course, that'll be 32 oz of the Power Rabbit smoothie for $23.87. Cash or card?”
“Card” I replied quickly. Grabbing it from inside my phone case.
Noticing I was the final customer in the line up the worker asked “You said that your cravings are wanting liquid greens. Could you be pregnant?”
Unfortunately I had to ignore the boys talking over coms. (Mikey was laughing hysterically, so hopefully they'd enjoy this little show.)
“Yes, I am. I'm still in the first trimester soy doctor says the really weird cravings are still in my future.”
“Oh, cool! When we do have to satiate cravings they prefer fruit.”
Laughing I replied, “yes, mine have focused around greenery. Maybe it means the baby will be vegan in the future. As long as I don't lose to much weight, I'll be fine”
“I'm an only child so I gotta ask, what does it feel like and aren't you chilly”
“Nothing much yet, thankfully. It's just to early to feel much of anything. However I will say that one of my brothers broke or bruised mom's runs when they were in the womb. Hope this one doesn't do the same. I'm not cold at all” I lied. “When you're pregnant you experience temperature very differently. I know the news days it's supposed to be a chilly day, but I know I've been sweating.”
My smoothie drink was called, so I bid the friendly cashier Sam goodbye after trying a tent so of the smoothie.
As soon as I was out of the shop “Food acquired. Just I'm time too.”
I heard Donnie's voice from the alleyway right next to the shop. “Good timing, on many things then.”
Huh, guess I was wound about Rain coming down. Smiling I walked further into the alley to meet him. “Agreed. This one had many surprises.”
He only smiled in reply. I want sure if it was my imagination but I couldn't tell whether it was excited or nervous. Donnie gave me a moment to adjust after picking me up bridal style. Wrapping a hand around the baby's shell. Thanking Donnie for grabbing and securing the green smoothie.
We were on the roof in moments. Donnie set me down carefully as the others gathered around. “Mikey do you still have the duffel? I need to cut myself out of this shirt.”
“Here you are girly pop!” He enthusiastically replied.
“Wonderful”
“Lemme look, I probably have something.” Donnie muttered
“Probably. I remember April or I stashing a pair of scissors in one of the outer pockets too.” I agreed easily
Gratefully accepting the duffel. By this point the baby was fully awake and aware. Squirming within the makeshift harness. Crouching I used one hand to search the sides while muttering soothing nothings and using the other to stroke their shell. Quickly finding the scissors. They were the small kind from an emergency sewing kit. But I felt they're safer the dagger or electric candle lighter he procured.
I immediately went to town on the stretched thin fabric next to the knots. Dutifully ignoring the hovering Mikey and Donnie while Raph and Leo put themselves on guard duty; though you could feel their eyes checking in frequently.
As soon as half of the knots were cut apart, you carefully maneuvered the baby out of the shirt harness through the side. “Donnie here's the little cutie pie.” Supporting the head and shell while handing the baby over after a short forehead kiss. He carefully, but eagerly took them out of your hands following the instructions to support the head and neck, just in case they had developed more like a human infant than a turtle infant. Then he started up doing - whatever he figured out to check for a possible tracking chip.
You took a moment from your position to look at your crush holding a baby, allowing yourself a moment of appreciation, before taking the disguise duffel with you to the edge of the protective circle a few feet away. Grabbing one of the larger plain t-shirts you put it over the ruined shirt, then used the scissors to cut away the final two knots from the makeshift harness. Completely preserving your modesty.
Looking over towards Donnie, you could see that he was muttering about what he was doing and what he had found-nothing so far. You caught the baby looking in your direction, and following a possible law of the universe, you smiled and waggled your fingers towards them. Then ungracefully grabbing the fabric and moving it into a separate side pocket and putting the scissors away. Then rifling through the different bottoms you were able to find the long skirt - aha!!! At the very bottom naturally. Once it was freed from the rest of the clothes, I put it on, making sure the skirt waist band was above the waist and of the pants I had on -undoing the button and zipper on the pants while I was at it.
My head snapped over to Donnie when I heard the loudest crying Ive heard from the baby. I saw Donnie taking his stethoscope quickly away, looking puzzled.
“How cold is that? The building and enclosure was pretty warm.” I asked.
A look of understanding “Ah, that's fair.” crossed over his face and he used his breath to warm up the surface. I took the duffel bag and crouched next to him again. Gently stroking my hand over the arm not currently absorbed with soaking their balled up first in their spit. “Oh, were you surprised at how cold the stethoscope was Sweetheart? I cooed “I see you're trying to eat your hand, thankfully I have something that will hopefully be tastier, but will definitely be more nutritional. Hopefully while Donnie continues your check up, Mikey can focus on how I'm temporarily feeding you with a straw so he can take over. Then I can grab bottles which make feeding you much easier. What do you think of that?”
Through my peripheral I could see Mikey snap his attention from the baby to them with a growing smile. “Hell yeah I will! I get to be the first to feed them.”
I had already grabbed the large smoothie, put my finger over the top of the straw and carefully removed it from the lid. Taking advantage of a moment when their mouth was open to remove their hand and dribble in some of the smoothie. Once again my lucky stars were shining and the baby was obviously interested in the smoothie eagerly eating the small amount then clearly searching for more.
“Good job, I'm glad you like it.” I said to the baby. “Mikey this'll be easier for you then. All you have to do is try to keep her hands away from the mouth and keep her distracted so Donnie can work his magic,” chuckling slightly “While also keeping out of Donnie's way.”
“You gotcha babes! Now let me have that smoothie!”
Easily I handed the cup and straw over. Mikey more then successfully feed them, though if I wasn't wrong the baby was highly confused at the faces he was pulling while doing so.
I took a few steps back and shimmied out of the pants still under the long skirt. Putting the pants and the snatched hair clip inside the duffel. I walked towards a fire escape while roughly adjusting my hair part. Saying “I'll be back as soon as possible. Are we meeting here or at your car? Either way I still have the com and my phone if you think of something else the baby will need.”
Leo met me by the fire escape saying without words that he can give a quick lift. Nodding in agreement I searched the nearest market which would have baby supplies. Thankfully it was only a few blocks away. Showing him this, “you got it”. He picked me up and dropped me off in the alley way next to the store. “Thanks Leo.”
“Thank you.”
I quickly walked into the store and quickly went to the infant and baby section. I grabbing the newborn and size 1 of disposable diapers and a package of reusable diapers. While there was chatting and crying from the coms, no one had directed anything towards me. Until my phone rang and it was Raph calling. While I was moving to the next isle I answered.
“Hey bud.”
‘How fast can you make your trip? The baby won't stop crying.” He went straight to the point.
Looking at the the bottles I answered “At least a few more minutes. You'll have to hang in there.”
“I got that.”
Aha there was the kind which promised to be molded to a nipple and thus let in less air.
“You still on? Have you tried getting out any gas? Also think of how large her world suddenly became.”
“The second could definitely be part of it. Nothing we can do though. What's the second?” Raph asked.
Humming I grabbed two packages of the nipple molded bottles “I think it's called baby calisthenics. Essentially it's moving their legs in a bicycle motion for a little bit then bringing the knees to the chest. There's a little more than those two though; I don't remember specifically.”
“No, no, I can do a Google. Thank you.” He replied before immediately hanging up. It was his typical response, but I heard the heartbreaking pitiful crying in the background. I could completely understand.
I saw a pair of binkies and added them, just in case. Though I glanced at the jars of baby food, I decided against them entirely - at least without figuring out what the baby should and shouldn’t eat. Walking back towards the front of the isle I grabbed a medium bottle of gentle baby soap, a bottle of gentle lotion, then grabbed the cutest towel with a ducky hood.
My phone rang again this time I was more alarmed as it was Donnie calling. Holding the phone between my shoulder and ear I barely was able to get out a “Hello” before Donnie cut me off “Raph is very right. How soon can you finish?” Idly I put two of the softest blankets available into my cart next.
“I’m almost done with the bare basics. Did anything work?” I asked. Taking a look at the nail clippers and the available mittens. Raph might want to make those for them actually. But one pair for now might work.
“She did end up expelling gas, but it didn’t help. I think they became scared as their crying is louder now.” He replied. I only put the nail clippers into the basket.
“That's not good. I’ll be out of the store within 10 minutes.” I replied, making up my mind. I couldn't dawdle, more could be purchased online anyways. These turtles haven’t been around any kind of infants. I grabbed two large packages of baby wipes, hoping they’d be enough until I could order more online. I only paused when I saw an adorable little stuffed otter with its paws underneath their chin and a seashell on its tummy. Finally grabbing a few baby cloths and bibs before deciding to call it quits.
With my phone still in one hand I used the notes app to create a list of things I probably would want.need to purchase later. Clothes, more blankets, socks, and toys were immediately added. In line for the register I added something mildly controversial: a moses basket.
This was a little longer wait for this line. But the cashier was efficient so even as I internally winced at the price I quickly paid before making my way back into the alleyway I was dropped off at. I saw Raph and Leo hop down with obvious repressed nerves which lowered to more relief when they saw me. Leo quickly accepted the plastic packages while Raph hustled me into his arms to take off towards the rooftops.
We traveled the way back to the first rooftop, finally with my feet on the roof, I non-verbally thanked Raph with a passing two pats to an arm.
“[Name]!” Donnie cried as we met in the middle between us, then crouching to hand me the still crying baby “They wouldn’t stop crying no matter what we did. I’m not sure why either. Turtles are far more independent when they’re born, and each of the sources online said something different.”
Listening to Donnie I naturally started a small bouncing motion rocking side to side, while rubbing my hand soothingly across their shell, while the other went up to support the head and neck. Through his explanation the baby quieted down. However, they continued to sniffle and rub their head into the divot by my collar bone in a lasting effect of crying.
“See, each of us tried a few minutes in the common carrying positions and it didn’t work!” Donnie ended.
“Maybe they just need more time to get used to you.” I responded helplessly. “Hey Leo, can you bring over the bags really quick. I purchased diapers. I’d like to minimize any accidents. ”
Obliging Leo placed the couple bags down, easily finding and opening the larger packages of diapers.
“You’ll have to be careful of their tail,” Donnie mentioned while I sat down on the roof with my legs straight out, creating a small divot where I laid the quieter baby.
Seeing Leo crouched next to me holding out the two sizes of diaper. I grabbed the smaller newborn size opening it up single-handedly and pacing it open as best I could in my lap. Turning my attention fully to the baby “Now, sweetie, lets see which diaper works better to accommodate you, I have a feeling you will cry again when I set you down, but I don’t want to clean up any pee or poop off of me.”
As expected the cries increased a little in volume, until they realized they were still on me. I smoothed my hand over their rump, catching the tail between their legs for nothing else to do, from what I could feel trying the other way would have been painful. Trying to close the diaper. It just barely was able to connect around their shell, and most importantly didn’t seem to cinch too tightly or loosely around their legs.
I handed the second size back to Leo, “Thank you” I said once again raising the baby back up to my chest. "Can I see the other bags? I also grabbed a fabric wrap. While I’d prefer washing them before use, it can’t be helped.” Also grabbing the nearest bag with my free hand to find it, while Raph and Mikey did the same to the other bags. Though directing the next question to Donnie “Any trackers, Donnie?”
He crouched down and sat next to me keeping his eyes on the baby in the crook of my elbow “None I could find. Though I’m keeping a track of any internal and external messages of the company. Once we get back to the lair I’m raising the security level, just in case something slips.”
“I found it dudette!”Mikey said as he passed it over. “Damn they’re still so small.”
Smiling up at him I couldn’t help myself “Yea, I can’t believe that you four were smaller then they are!”
Unfortunately with sitting down - a calming baby, and how my arms were positioned, I couldn’t access the phone in my skirt pocket.
“I’m glad there aren’t trackers. The safest place for them would be the lair. Donnie may you search up fabric wrap hold tutorial for infant please? I can’t reach my phone.”
“No problem.” came his easy reply. Leo continued to see what I purchased, while Raph took up guard duty with Mikey intermittently going between Leo and Raph.
I leaned closer to Donnie as he held his phone out to me to see the tutorial. It was a few minutes long, but had a long introduction. First I full screened it and sped through the introduction before watching, then re-watching only the part showing how to achieve the infant wrap.
I tried opening the wrap package as best as I could for only a moment before Donnie took it while putting away his phone. Then opened it easily while Leo asked “Do you think the lotion will really work?"
“I have no idea. But baby skin is more sensitive.” I immediately replied.
“Here is that middle for you” Donnie said as he handed back the now opened baby wrap.
“Perfect, thank you.” I said appreciatively to him. Flashing him a smile. I carefully started to stand up with the now calm baby, when Donnie leaped up and offered his help. Grasping one of his hands and using his other on my back as a brace it was much easier to stand up.
“She was calm when you held her earlier before I left. I need both hands to figure out this wrap. It’ll be much safer while we drive to the lair.”
Nodding Donnie held out his hands for the baby, and I transferred her into them while also informing the baby about what was happening. Seeing Donnie's puzzled expression “Talking to them about what is happening to and around them helps with speech development and recognizing conversation later on down the line.”
Seeing the baby secured I took a step only large enough to have some space to start wrapping while keeping both of them in my focus. I kept the center of the long fabric on my stomach rapping both sides behind, crossing them, then bringing them over my shoulders. Donnie had copied the movements I did when I was holding the baby. So he was lightly bouncing and rocking side to side. As I was adjusting the wrap, I couldn't help but find it endlessly adorable seeing how high Donnie had to hike the baby up for their head to rest in his shoulder. He had his phone out to the records the lab had of them and was explaining what he was on them. It was very adorable. I turned around showing my back do Donnie moving my hair out of the way, “Do you you see any twists?”
“Uh, no. I don't.” Came the surprisingly fast reply.
“Sweet.” Nodding in accomplishment. Tucking the straps underneath the starting middle. Crossing the fabric again then taking the end to the back again then back to the front. Double checking with Donnie about twists. Once again not having any. I repeated crossing in the front then tied it. There was still a ton of fabric left at the ends, but hopefully it would be fine.
Turning back to face him saying “lets try this, hand over that baby, Donatello.” I teased wiggling my fingers. Neither Donnie or I seeing the quick exchanged glances full of mischief between the other turtles.
The handover was easy, I maneuvered their legs in, tucking their diapered body into mine. Leaning down next to their face lovingly whispering “Can you breathe in here, sweetheart?” Feeling their strong breaths. I couldn’t help but curl an arm around them dropping a kiss to their forehead. Bringing the final fabric layer up from underneath their body to finish the infant hold ensuring minimal ability to fall out.
Catching Donnie's eyes before feeling a little bit embarrassed; covering it with a small smile and pretending to search for Leo. “So back to the lair?”
“Yes.” Came the easy reply.
Donnie quickly cut in closing the space and putting a friendly hand on my shoulder. “Meet up at the van.” following the typical motions of lifting me up for a quick rooftop run.
We were flying through the air not long afterwords. I naturally wrapped both arms around the baby. We were at the van in minutes, with him unlocking it before putting me carefully on the ground. With the small thuds from his brothers Donnie said “Leo you’re out of the passenger seat.”
“Yes, i know.” Raph and Mikey quickly hustled into the car in time for Leo to say “Just get all of us home safe, Donnie”
Making my way to the passenger seat after high-fiving Mikey and Raph once they put down the purchases. I buckled into the passenger seat intentionally pulling at the seatbelt long enough the engage its auto lock feature. Donnie started to drive away.
On the drive back I fully relaxed into the back of the chair gaze focused on the baby in my arms and stroking their shell while idly listening to the chatter of the brothers. Chuckling along with the jokes and camaraderie. I didn’t notice the glances the turtles sent my way - though only Donnie was able to see my face.
About halfway through the drive back to the lair I cut through the conversation the brothers were having “Hey, has anyone alerted Splinter about the baby?” Hearing the pregnant pause “Is this something we should tell him over a text or call?”
There was another moment of quiet before Leo “Actually I agree with that. I don't think he'd believe us over the phone anyways.”
“Of course it has nothing to do with trying to distract him, right.” I asked.
Immediately here was a plethora of rebuttals.
I nodded along mock seriously “Of course of course I was foolish. News of a new baby shouldn't be done over a text or call. Besides its said, seeing is believing, pics or it didn't happen, and are you sure you didn't Photoshop it, and so on.”
Donnie smirked briefly glancing over “I'm glad you get it”
We arrived at the lair in a few minutes. Splinter wasn't waiting so we were able to unload the car quickly. Though I was certain he would be here soon. Though I did make note that none of the turtles wanted me to hold anything - until I insisted on carrying the smoothie at least.
I'd like to make it clear that Leo, Mikey, and Raph see how you and Donnie became absorbed into your own little moment and are planning on teasing Donnie about it later. I'm actually really proud of how the group conversation flowed naturally between everyone, staying mostly on topic but still incorporating everyone. While writing this I worried a lot about that.
I've been lurking in the TMNT fandom for years but I don't particularly post for it, so i'd love to give a shout out to @thelaundrybitch , @tmnt-tychou , @avery73, @turtleweens, and @scholastic-dragon for their posts and headcanons. They were a wonderful balm of when the words and ideas became too much!
Hey remember how desktops/laptops used to come with little advertising stickers that said what Operating System and CPU were in it? Such as "Designed for Windows XP" and "Pentium 4"?
Well yesterday I got a new laptop, it runs Debian Trixie and has a RCORE RK3588 processor in it, and I'd like to get two little stickers made up to put on in, in remembrance of the days of old. Not a clue on where to start however.
Debian should be easy, as it's got plenty of various .png's and .svg's of it's logo around, so I'm sure I can photoshop one together. It's that RK3588 I'm concerned on.
And also a way to make the stickers. I'm sure I could make a large bulk sticker page with multitudes on it, and then print it off on vinyl sticker paper, but I'd A.) need a printer and B.) I'd need a way to professionally cut it (I do NOT have precision cutting hand coordination).
Anyways, I'm making this post as a sort of "Hey you help me out will ya?" message. How do I make these?
A Worker Approved by God
Make every effort to present yourself approved to God, an unashamed workman who accurately handles the word of truth.
Труди се да се докажеш пред Бог, како работник кој нема од што да се срами, зашто правилно ја проповеда вистината. — 2 Timothy 2:15 | Berean Study Bible (BSB) and Macedonian New Testament (MNT) The Berean Study Bible (BSB) © 2016, 2018 by Bible Hub and Berean Bible. All rights Reserved and Macedonian New Testament Copyright 1999 by HBC Radosna Vest. Cross References: Romans 6:13; Ephesians 1:13; James 1:12; James 1:18
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How do you study to show yourself approved (2 Timothy 2:15)?