Fyreball666

Mikey

This orange-wearing beacon of chaos and sunshine is always one hundred percent ready for sex, anytime, anywhere. Just say the word, and he’s already dropped and ready to go.

Now, it’s plain to see that Mikey tends to become a little hyper-focused, especially on things that are of great interest to him, and you are most certainly at the top of his list. The sight of you, undressed, waiting for him on the bed, wet and ready, has him completely forgetting that he meant to clean up those comic books he’d been reading—especially the ones safely packed in their shiny plastic sleeves.

They were all scattered across the cool brick floor of his room, which was partially covered by a fluffy orange rug, the perfect set of conditions to send him tumbling ass over shell into a hamper full of clean clothes he’d also meant to put away.

The plastic hamper was done for, completely cracked in half from his weight and the impact of the fall. He sat there dazed for a second, his dick flopping comically like a cartoon daisy as he tried to wiggle out of his predicament.

“Whoops! Babe, just gimme a second… I just gotta…”

“Oh my God, Mikey, are you okay?” You were trying very hard not to laugh initially, but when he stood up with the basket still attached to his shell, you lost it.

It was as infectious as it was endearing, and Mikey couldn’t keep it in either, laughing as he freed himself from the confines of broken plastic and discarded socks.

“Oh, laughing are we? Still standing, tall and proud over here.” He smirked, teasing you as he made his way over with no further issues. “First, imma wipe that smile off your face with a good, hard, dicking… then…I’m gonna clean my room.”

You had no complaints about either of those claims.

Raph

Now, this red-wearing turtleman, through no fault of his own, already had a hard time fitting into tight spaces…literally, whether it be you or your minimalist bedroom.

In the heat of the moment, Raph had shoved his shorts down to his ankles, not even bothering to remove his shoes or socks.

You were already completely undressed, ass-up on the bed, waiting for him and in his eagerness to bury himself within your waiting heat, he was not aware he needed to widen his stance and bend his knees a little because damn his height and your bed was just a bit too low. In his haste to remove his shorts, they got caught around his ankles, and like a wrecking ball off kilter, Raph quite literally crashed to the floor.

Thankfully, nothing is broken, but you whipped around so fast to see him crumpled on the floor in the most undignified position between your bed and your dresser, his dick looking like a wilted rose.

“Raph…you…” It was impossible to keep a straight face, snorting softly as you watched him look up to the ceiling, trying to compose himself.

With the sudden notion of becoming a chaos demon, you hopped out of bed and placed a white sock over his still-hard erection.

“There, the white flag of surrender.” You snorted, barely able to contain yourself. “Should we just move this to the floor?”

“Ya think that’s funny do ya?” He shot a playful glare from his sock-covered dick to you, trying very hard not to laugh. “Ain’t my fault ya live in a damn shoebox.”

The humour was fading as you took in his seemingly grumpy expression, finally beckoning him to come to the bed, his dick looking somewhat droopy as he heaved himself up, tossing the sock away.

“Hey!” You playfully protested as he easily moved you back against the headboard, his presence large and imposing. “That sock did nothing wrong.”

“Nah, but you did, naughty girl.” The rumble in his voice made your breath hitch as a large hand gripped your hip. “And now, yer in need of a good, hard, fuck, ain’t ya?”

You shivered with anticipation, allowing him to take back control of the situation, for this was not only what he needed to regain his dignity, but he was not wrong. This was exactly what you needed.

Leo

You and Blue had already been getting frisky in the shower. The smug turtleman had already made you cum once around his hand, and now you were half-wrapped in a towel on a mad dash to his room so he could fuck you properly.

Leo was in hot pursuit, having also managed to wrap a towel securely around himself as he followed you ninja-quick through the halls in the lair. It was a rare moment when Leo’s playful side emerged, as did yours, neither of you caring who saw or heard.

By some miracle, you managed to get there first, ripping the towel off and spreading yourself wide with the intent of driving him mad with your scent.

The desired effect was most definitely achieved, but almost a little too well. As he slammed the door behind him, Leo was nearly knocked off his feet by how desirable you smelled, and, as a result, he stumbled on his way to ravish you. Having not lifted his foot enough, he tried to compensate by catching himself with the other foot, but since he had a towel wrapped around his waist, his legs were essentially in a straitjacket, and he stubbed his toe, sending him flying forward.

He managed to turn enough to land on his shell and not his face, but was now spinning a little on his back, his towel askew and barely hanging on now, making it easy for you to see his once proud erection sticking up like a dandelion in a crack in the sidewalk.

The entire hilarious mishap has you closing your legs immediately and jumping off the bed to check on him.

“Oh, jeez, Leo! Are you okay?!” You found yourself kneeling down next to him and grabbing one of his large hands to pull him up as best you could into a sitting position.

Appearing somewhat dazed, you’d expected him to brush the whole thing off, possibly calling sex off as well, so you were incredibly surprised when he began to laugh, heartily and uncontrollably.

Soon you were laughing too, nearly breathless at the ridiculousness of the entire situation.

Leo pulled you in for a deep, affectionate kiss, his blue eyes shining with mirth. “Guess this means I’m falling for you.”

Snorting softly, you straddled his waist, pushing the towel off his hips and positioning yourself just there.

“I thought you already had.”

“Not in the physical sense, until today.” Leo had placed his hands on your hips with the intent of lowering you onto his cock, which was still hard.

“You could say I’ve fallen for you in all ways.”

“Show me?”

“Always.”

Donnie

In the quiet of his lab, late at night when he can only assume he’ll not be interrupted, Donnie decided to engage in some self-care.

A master of multitasking, Donnie has anywhere from three to five videos going on at once, and this is no exception. He had three videos all on separate screens, had already dropped and was stroking himself when you decided to enter the lab, completely unaware of his X-rated late-night activities.

Currently just a good friend of his and his brothers, you’d been spending the night and having the hardest time falling asleep. Given Donnie’s penchant for staying up late and working on projects, along with his basic medical knowledge, you thought he might be able to offer a solution to your insomnia. Some melatonin, perhaps? You didn’t feel confident rummaging around in the communal bathroom vanity and decided to ask him instead.

It also had nothing to do with the fact that you’d been crushing on him hard for the past six months, or that he’d been your first choice to ask about this. A quick peek at the lab told you he was still awake, the screens still lit, casting a soft glow over the various projects on his workbenches.

Perfect, you thought, and strode in, unaware until far too late that he should’ve locked the lab doors for this private affair. Coming up on him in his chair, you gasped, seeing exactly why his mutant physiology was so impressive. He froze upon seeing you. His cock was still in his grasp as he stuttered out your name before frantically trying to cover himself.

“Shit, ohhmygod, oh my God, what are you—what are you doing here?”

You were sure your complexion was only a few shades paler than Raph’s bandana as you babbled out an apology. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you’d been…!”

It was at that moment that Donnie realized that all of his videos were still playing in full view of the girl he had a massive crush on, not a good look for him.

“Ahhh, I’m sorry, I just—” In his panic, he grabbed the cord to the power strip to shut everything off, but pulled just a little too hard. The stored energy from the pull sent him reeling back too quickly to catch himself, and he fell backwards toward his chair, sending it spinning as he landed on his shell.

All you could do was stare as this series of unfortunate events unfolded, ending with him on the floor, the towel he’d used to cover himself no longer doing its job. His dick, to your amusement, looked like a sad calla lily, and you needed to rectify the situation quickly. This might be your only chance to really let him know how you feel.

Donnie was groaning softly in pain and embarrassment, but at least his computer screens were dark, and he half-hoped you’d just leave so the two of you could forget this ever happened.

You had other ideas. Carefully approaching him, you knelt beside him and picked up the towel where it had fallen, covering him again to preserve at least some of his dignity. Taking his hands, you helped him into a sitting position and brought his gaze to yours.

“Hey, it’s okay, we’re all, well, animals, and we all have needs…” You took a breath, “…myself included.”

Though he was reluctant at first, he relaxed visibly, seeing that you were not out to judge him for his actions, and breathed deeply before speaking. “I…thought you were asleep. I should’ve locked the lab doors. I’m sorry you had to see…that.”

“Oh, I couldn’t sleep. I was hoping to ask you for some… help.” Given the change in the situation, these words now carried a different meaning, one you desperately hoped he’d pick up on.

He nervously licked his lips. Donnie was no fool, but it did take him a few more seconds of buffering to process what you were trying to convey.

“I do…” he began slowly, “know of a few such methods that might help.” Tentatively, he brought one of his hands up to stroke a few tendrils of your hair.

“Do any of them involve what I walked in on you doing earlier?” Your heart was thumping in your chest as you drew your face closer to his.

“I was thinking of a more…hands-on approach, if you’re up for it.” His lowered voice had just enough of a husk to make you shiver, and the hopeful spark in his gaze was unable to be denied.

You responded by closing the gap and kissing him, pouring out months of pent-up feelings of unrequited attraction. To your relief, he responded with just as much enthusiasm, finally moving from the floor to take you into his arms and into his bed, where he intended to show you all his secrets for getting a deep and restful sleep.

A/N Hope you enjoyed, please consider leaving a like, comment or reblogging this work!

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LEO

Leo is a traditionalist at heart, so to him, colors have deep meaning; for him, they represent alignment, loyalty, and clan. Seeing you in his specific shade of blue hits him right in his deeply ingrained sense of duty and devotion.

He notices the exact second you enter the lair. He stops mid-sentence or mid-kata, his eyes widening just a fraction. A warm, incredibly soft smile breaks across his face, and his posture immediately relaxes.

He won’t make a loud scene about it. But he’ll walk over, smooth down the shoulder or collar of your shirt, and linger a little closer to you than usual.

If Mikey or Raph tries to tease you about it, he’ll calmly step in, wrap an arm around your waist, and say with absolute, quiet confidence: “I think the blue suits them perfectly. Leave them alone.” He feels an intense wave of pride knowing you are openly representing him.

RAPH

Raph is a creature of intense emotion and possession, but he is also incredibly easily flustered. Red is a loud, bold color, and seeing you wear it is an immediate shock to his system.

When he sees you, his face instantly matches his mask. He will literally choke on his words, sputter, and look away, rubbing the back of his neck to try to hide how much he is blushing.

He gets defensive because his brothers will roast him immediately. Mikey will start making kissing noises, and Raph will threaten to throw Mikey into a sewage tank. But once his brothers leave you two alone? He can’t keep his hands off you. He’ll pull you against his chest, tucking you under his chin.

He’ll mutter into your hair, trying to sound gruff but failing completely: “Hey, listen to me. Don’t wear that outside the lair, alright? Unless I’m with you. I don’t need every punk in New York knowing you belong to me when I’m not around to break their jaws.”

DONNIE

For Donnie, purple isn’t just a color; it’s his identity in a household of loud personalities. He is used to being the tech guy in the background, so you choosing his color feels incredibly validating to his sweet, slightly insecure heart.

He’s usually hyper-focused on a monitor or a disassembled engine. But when you walk into the lab wearing his shade of purple, he drops his wrench. He blinks, and a huge, endearing grin spreads across his face.

He gets a little shy but incredibly affectionate. Then he’ll immediately pull you onto his lap or drag an extra stool over so you can sit next to him while he works. He loves the visual of you matching him while you both hang out.

He’ll look at you with total adoration, tapping your nose. “Is that … my shade? You know, scientifically speaking, purple represents creativity and wisdom. On you, I think it looks perfect.”

MIKEY

Mikey is the hype man of the century. Orange is loud, bright, and energetic—just like him. If you wear orange, he takes it as a literal declaration of your ultimate love and allegiance to him, and he will make sure the entire universe knows it.

When he sees you, he’ll literally gasp, slide across the kitchen floor, or jump over the back of the sofa, pointing at you with dinner forks or a video game controller—whatever he currently has in his hand(s).

He’ll strut around the lair, parading you in front of his brothers. He’ll drape his arms around your shoulders, cheek pressed against yours, gloating to Raph and Leo about how he is clearly the favorite.

Leo went to wake up and move his brothers to their beds as Raph slowly sat up, shifting you into his arms, the blanket still tucked around you. Raph was stiff from not moving for so long but with his legs under him he managed to get to his bed. He laid you down softly, and despite his best efforts, you awoke, confused and a little grumpy. 

“Just going to bed,” he cooed softly. “You’re safe. Just sleep,” 

You mumbled something and made your way under the covers, curling up. Raph double checked on his brothers, seeing if Leo needed any help. He shut down the tv and made sure your Switch was charging and the controllers were back. Leo met his eyes as he closed Donnie’s door. Leo nodded at him. Something passed between them. Raph nodded back. He’d have to talk to Leo about what changed later. His brother went from being hostile and brooding to almost normal. It was a later problem. Right now you were asleep and missing him beside you and he wanted to be there more than anything. 

Raph closed the door behind him. You’d curled up with a pillow and were back alseep. His heart could have exploded in the moment for the fondness he felt for you. His thoughts ran away from him: would there be a day where this was every night? When you came home to each other and shared a bed and a home and a life? No more hidden feelings and desperate attempts to spend more time together. Just… being in your life and you’d be in his. 

But for now that was just a dream. 

When he crawled into bed next to you, you immediately tossed the pillow you were hugging and reached for him in your sleep. God that coulda killed him. But he was reveling that you wanted him for safely and comfort. Raphael held you securely and let his eyes slipped closed, knowing life was meant to be this way. 

In the morning you were still there. There were no alarms, no work for you to get to, nothing. Just sleeping. Until he moved a bit too much and your eyes opened. You always were a light sleeper. When your eyes focused on him you smiled. 

“Hi,” you whispered. 

“Hi,” he said. “Sleep well?”

You nodded and stretched, melting closer to him and he didn’t mind at all. Your eyes closed again and there was no reason for him to not do the same. It was a peaceful two minutes until Mikey barged in carrying a giant bowl covered in what looked like flour and batter. 

“Hey sleepyheads! Rise and shine! You guys want pancakes!?” Mikey was a bit too loud for whatever time it was. 

Raphael instinctively held you protectively before realizing it was just his brother. He huffed at the intrusion ready to tell Mikey to fuck off until he heard a muffled “pancakes?” coming from you. He cracked a smile and waved Mikey out of the room with a promise to be out soon. 

You wanted to shower before anything else, so he lent you some extra clothes and gave you some privacy. He went out to check on the chaos Mikey was no doubt creating. To give his brother credit, Michelangelo had become quite an experienced cook over the years and now that they could frequent bodegas with minimal panic nowadays; he’d been able to make some really good food. 

Raphael found a large stack of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and toast all in the works in the kitchen and his two other brothers digging in. Raph went over to start a pot of coffee, knowing you’d want some. 

Then he joined them, knowing you’d be out soon. And he was right. You came out, slightly damp, in his extra clothes, still half awake but smiling. 

Man how he loved you. 

Raph froze and his face got really red as he stared at the pancakes on his plate. No one was the wiser—he hoped. You went to get a cup of coffee, softly touching his arm to ask if he wanted one too. He strangled out a yes, your touch lighting his skin on fire. You hummed softly as you set the mugs out, moving around the kitchen like it was your home. Like you belonged here. Like this family was yours. Your melody was enchanting. Raphael couldn’t help but stare. His brothers however were all grinning at him. 

God fucking damn it. 

His eyes went back to his pancakes. You set the mugs down and grabbed your own plate of breakfast and started to dig in. Donnie started to ask you questions about the game and what YouTubers you’d watched about the lore and how to get to the secret bosses. You chatted happily, absentmindedly leaning your leg against his under the table. Raph wanted to die. He couldn’t take this. He was going to explode. It was so domestic and calm and nothing like he ever dreamed to have. 

He loved you. 

And it was going to kill him until he could tell you. If he could tell you. 

He should tell you.

He would. 

He needed another pancake. 

Raphael walked you home, dying to hold your hand but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Shouldn’t. 

Wanted to so damn bad. 

You disappeared into your apartment building, leaving him yearning. Wanting to scream how he actually loved you. And never wanted to lose you. That he wanted you to be in his life. He wanted to make a safe life for you so you could just be yourself. Next to him. Forever. 

But for now there was a promise you’d be over soon. He could live with that. He’d have to at least. 

When he got back to the lair all of his brothers were grinning at him. He felt himself getting red again. 

“Shut up,” he said shaking his head. 

“You’re down so bad dude!” Mikey laughed. “Oh my God how has she not figured this out!?” 

“You guys are ridiculous! She was in your lap last night!” Donnie joined in laughing. “And you’re just friends!?” 

“Yes!” Raph insisted. “Just. Friends.”

“And that’s all you want?” Leo chimed in, amused. 

Raph opened his mouth then shut it. He had nothing to say that wouldn’t make this worse. Of course he wanted more. He always had. But now it wasn’t just teenage hormones driving him, it was genuine emotions and feelings he still had toward you. 

He wanted you. 

And it would crush him if you didn’t feel the same. 

So he wouldn’t say a word. He was okay, admiring from afar. Because he didn’t know if you felt the same. 

Because he was a coward who didn’t want to get his heart broken again by the same girl. 

And it scared him more than Shredder ever could. 

………………………

It was a few days later and Raph was going to meet you after work to hang out at the lair with his brothers for another game night. So he was on his way to pick you up. He found you on your apartment steps. Your face was scrunched in thought. You totally missed him walking up. 

“You okay there kid?” Raph asked. 

“Hm? Oh! Hi!” Your entire face lit up. “Yeah I’m okay. Just had a weird conversation I guess,” 

“Wanna tell me about it?” He sat next to you on the steps in front of your apartment building. 

You nodded and began to speak:

I walked into work to find Eli and George talking tensely in Arabic before looking at me. My heart rate spiked. Holy shit what did I do? 

“We need to talk,” Eli said. He was a balding tanned man in his mid fifties with a permanently furrowed brow behind his thick framed glasses. 

“Uh. Okay,” I glanced to my coworker who shrugged. He didn’t know either. Oh God what the fuck did I do?

We went outside to a side table where we were almost alone. My anxiety clawed up my chest. 

“I hear you’re in trouble,” Eli said. 

“Um. Am I?” I asked. “For what?” 

“You’ve got Shredder after you.” George said, giving me direction for the conversation. 

“Oh! Yeah! Uh he kinda cornered me last week too,” I said. “And his bots keep finding me.” It was new information to George. 

“He did what!? Y/n! These are things you tell us!” George said. 

“Really?” 

“Yes,” Eli chuckled. “You’re part of this family Y/n. We protect our family.”

Awe. My heart softened at that. I’d been here for just a few months and they considered me family. 

“Okay. Uh. Well. Yeah.” 

“Do you feel safe?” Eli asked, leaning forward, concerned. 

“For the most part.” I said. “It is a little scary leaving my apartment sometimes.” 

“Okay. Then done. It’s handled.” Eli said sitting back, obviously hearing what he needed to. 

“Really? Just like that?” I asked. 

“Just like that,” Eli smiled. “Now get to work. And don’t worry about it anymore.” 

“And if he shows up you call me,” George stressed. “Right away. No matter the time.” 

“Okay,” I said. “Thank you,”

“Sure kid.” Eli said. 

“So yeah,” you said. “It was weird. Do I actually work for the mafia?”

“Sounds like it,” Raph said. 

He was a little more grateful toward your job now. And it took the pressure off him massively. This is how it should be. You should be protected and it shouldn’t have to be his job. He’d do it. No questions asked. But it just led him to getting upset and taking it out on you. And you sure as hell did want that and neither did he. Now he could be in your life because you wanted him there. Not because you needed him there. 

“Well that’s good,” he said when you didn’t say anything. “Are you okay with it?” 

“Yeah. I just—I haven’t had anyone on my side for a really long time. I… I didn’t think people cared,” 

“Well we got your back kid. And now so does the Lebanese mafia apparently,”

You cracked a smile at that. He was so glad to see you smile. 

“You ready?” He asked. You were coming over but you looked a little out of it. 

“Hmm? Yeah.” You were definitely out of it. 

“You don’t have to Y/n, you can get some sleep.” He said, knowing if you came over it would be another late night. And he loved spending time with you and his brothers but you were dead on your feet. 

“Mmm.” You were noncommittal. 

“Y/n, do you wanna go?” He asked a little more pointedly. You gave him a pathetic look. 

“No,” your voice was so small. 

“Okay,” he smiled at you. “Then we don’t. Do you want me to go home so you can go to bed?” 

“No,” you said again. “Hang out?” 

“Of course,” he said. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” He was definitely ignoring the burst of butterflies in his chest. He was not excited that you still wanted to hang out with him. Nope. Not a little bit. He had this all under control. 

You led him into your small apartment. It was clean and cozy and cluttered with whimsical trinkets and books and paintings. It was your safe haven. Your home. 

The cat couldn’t be bothered by Raphael. She was very insistent that you were late to… something. When you started to apologize for being late to feed the cat, Raph understood more of the protesting from the small cat. 

What he didn’t understand is why your cat started screaming at him like he could do anything about it. 

You cooed at the cat as you fed her. Her protests stopped as she inhaled the goopy wet food she was allowed. 

“I’m gonna shower,” You said, looking down at your work clothes. “Um… yeah,” 

It was a little more awkward this time. You had your own place—not sneaking around your parents or off to his place under the guise of a friend from school or April’s. it was just you and him. Alone. Together. 

“Um,” You rubbed your eyes trying to think. “I dunno, make yourself at home.” You gestured to the small apartment. You were exhausted, and Raph could see that. He was glad that you stood for yourself and decided to cancel tonight. You might fall over if the wind blew too hard. 

“Go shower kid,” Raph gave you a smile. “I’ll hang out with the cat.” 

“She’ll come shower with me,” you said, yawning. “Otherwise she throws herself against the door,”

“What—really?” He asked, looking up from where he’d crouched to pet the cat. The cat looked at him innocently. 

“Yeah she’s crazy,” you mused. “Imma shower,” you told mostly yourself to give her direction. 

You started your shower routine and sure enough your cat followed you happily into the bathroom. Raph looked around your apartment and ended up on your couch, scrolling through different streaming services you had before he found a sitcoms in your recents that you’d never stopped loving even after all these years. 

His eyes flickered to you when you left the bathroom, cat trotting at your feet. You smiled and threw your work clothes into your room somewhere and then joined him on the couch. You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, melting against him. Raph did hesitate to put his arm around you, pulling you closer. Your head dropped to his shoulder as you leaned into his touch. 

God fucking damnit you were going to kill him. He was so close he could smell the shampoo lingering on your hair. There was a silkiness to your skin now. He wanted to spend forever with those things in his senses. The softness and sweetness of you. It put all his dreaming to shame. 

but you were none the wiser as your eyes became heavy. And when your cat jumped up settling in the tangle of limbs the two of you were, you were perfectly content to let your eyes stay closed. You stretched and shift so your arm was across his chest, holding onto him like he was holding onto you. The smile didn’t leave his face. 

Raphael was sure you’d hit a light sleep. Your breathing evened out and even the car seemed to stop purring and just sleep. God he never wanted to let this moment go. As the hour grew later, he knew you needed to go to bed. 

“Kid?” He woke you softly. “It’s time for bed honey,” you hummed a response that made his smile grow. “Come on,” he chuckled, dislodging you before going to carry you to bed. 

The cat jumped down and led the way as he carried you to bed. You were determined to keep your arms wrapped around him. And he wouldn’t complain about it. 

Raph placed you on your bed and pulled the covers over you as you got cozy. He found your phone and plugged it in for you. 

“You have your alarms set?” He asked before letting you drift off. 

“Mhmm,” you mumbled. “Thanks Raph,” your eyes peeked open as you smiled at him. 

“Sure kid,” he said. “Get some sleep, I’ll lock up,” 

You hummed again, content. Raph wished he could stay. That it would be part of his routine too not just yours. 

Maybe soon. 

Maybe he could admit it and stand the chance of being wrong. 

Just as he was leaving, he barely heard it. 

“Love you,” you said. 

He went rigid. Raph wanted to turn around and wake you up and ask you what the hell you just said. Was it meant for him? Did you know you said it? Was it a lingering habit from someone else who had replaced us in the time between? 

Was it for him? 

Was it for him? 

Raph looked back and you were sound asleep. 

He wanted to scream. He had to know. 

But you needed sleep. 

And Raph would let you. No matter what he wanted. 

He locked up your apartment and walked home, thoughts swirling around him. But he was happy. And maybe you were too. 

Raph got a text from you to meet you after work in a couple days to maybe have another try at the game night. He promised to meet you in the alley to walk back with you. You sent him a smiley face. 

It was about twenty minutes before you got off and Raph was waiting for you, watching patrons make their way back to their cars with their leftovers. And he was alone… almost. 

“Shredder,” Raph hissed, his old enemy materializing out of the shadows.  

“Little Raphael,” Shredder said with a chuckle turning to face him. “What a surprise,”

“You need to leave Y/n alone,” Raph pulled out his sais. 

“Bold move for a lonely turtle,” Shredder said. “And Y/n is mine. I have plans for her

“No the fuck you don’t!” Raph yelled. “You leave her alone!” 

Shredder drew two lethal blades. Raphael was ready. He was no longer a teenager. And shredder couldn’t be so strong coming back from the dead right? 

“And why do you care? She left you. Abandoned in your time of need. Left to deal with the death of your father alone. And where was she?” Shredder taunted clouding his thoughts. He desperately needed to defend your honor it left him less concerned about defending himself. 

Shredder went on the offense. 

Raphael was sorely outmatched. 

………………

Shredder’s wicked laughter melted into the darkness as your footfalls raced toward him, calling his name. He didn’t have the strength to tell you it was a trap. 

“Raph!?” Your voice jumped an octave. To be fair he was covered in blood and barely standing. “What happened!?” You asked but he felt you already knew. You had your phone out and made a call as you ducked under his arm to help him walk. He was grateful for the relief. 

“George? I need you.” Your eyes flashed up and gave the street names and land marks. 

“There she is,” Shredder dropped in front of you. His blades glinted in the low light, stained with his blood. 

“Holy shit man,” you cursed and dropped from under his arm to stand in front of him—protective, not a weapon in sight. Raph wanted to yell at you so bad but even standing at the moment was too much effort. “What the fuck!?” You shouted. “You have a problem with me, not him!”

“But seeing him in pain causes you pain.” Shredder said. 

You gaped at him. “What the fuck dude!?” You were so pissed. “You stay away from him. You stay away from my friends! You stay away from me!” You were going to die defending him. There was irony in that somewhere. 

Shredder stalked forward. Raph protested, trying to get you behind him but one step forward and he collapsed again. Pain was everywhere and spots clouded his vision. You were going to die and there was nothing he could do. 

A white unmarked van pulled up and blocked the entire alley so you all were trapped. The side door opened and more guys than Raph though could fit in a van like that poured out, all armed, all dressed in navy. They created a wall between you and Shredder, backing the villain away. 

Who the fuck? 

You took a small step back but physically relaxed when a slight man stepped out of the van. You knew him. Maybe it was George? 

“You okay kid?” George asked. “That’s not yours is it?” He nodded to your blood stained shirt. 

“No,” you said. “Just a friend’s.” You looked back at Raph coming over to help him stand again. George’s eyes widened as he finally got a good look at the mutant turtle you were handling with such delicate care. 

“Holy shit girl who are you?” George laughed. “Get outta here. We got this covered.” He looked to Shredder with a stern expression. 

“Thanks George,” you smiled and led Raph out of Shredders path. Out of harms way. Back toward the lair. And in the alley that would take him home you stopped, finally speaking. 

“Holy shit Raphael what were you thinking!?” You said your voice still pitchy. You ran a hand nervously through your hair. Tears were in your eyes and stringing down your cheeks. “What happened!?” 

“I—I’m okay,” Raph stammered, not used to you being so vocal about your distress. “I’m fine Y/n,” he tried to sooth but ended up wincing. He was not fine. 

“You’re not fine!” You said calling him out on it. Your hands came to gently take inventory of his body. Raph didn’t know what was good or bad he just felt like absolute shit.

“This is not fine! If I wasn’t there! If George didn’t… if… if…” you were crying now, your hands resting on his shoulders. “Raph,” you said his name like it pained you. 

He could feel the prick of your nails against his skin with how tightly you were gripping his shoulders. He was ready for you to keep yelling at him. Hell he expected you to walk away before he ever thought you’d do what you did. 

You crashed your lips into his in an awkward panicked kiss. He froze before his brain overrode and his hands were on your hips pulling you closer to him. Fuck it all if he was in so much pain, he wasn’t letting you go now that you were here like this. Your hands cupped his face, pulling him more securely to you. And your lips were moving and your breath was hot against his. His hands dug into your sides. You kissed him like you were going to lose him. 

Soon it overwhelmed you and you were crying, breaking the kiss to stifle sobs as you leaned your forehead against his. His name was mixed in those little cries, weak and desperate. Begging him to not go. To not leave you. 

And he wanted to take it all away. All the pain and the fear that made your voice so despondent. That made you tremble against him, too consumed to think straight because you were so scared. He wanted to take it all away. Take you away. Somewhere life was easier. Safer. 

“Guys?” Mikey’s voice broke through your bubble and a strangled noise left your lips. “Holy shit guys what happened to you!? Why are you just standing out here!?” Mikey pulled you both inside. Raph firmly gripped your hand despite the searing pain of the action. You made quick work of letting him use you as a crutch again, your fingers still intertwined. 

“What happened!?” Mikey asked. 

“Shredder,” your voice was raw. “I called George. It’s fine—it’s…” you were crying again. 

Donnie and Leo and Mikey were now fussing over both of you. Raph watched you shut down and go nonverbal—too overwhelmed. Your eyes glossed over and your face became neutral. 

“Back off,” he snapped. “She’s not physically hurt. I am. She’s in shock.” Raph explained tightly so Donnie knew where to start. “You gotta give her space right now,”

“Okay, back up,” Leo ordered, pulling Mikey away. “Go double check the alley. Stay in the shadows. Do not engage.” 

Mikey gave a curt nod and took off. 

“Raph I need to get a better look at you in the lab,” Donnie said. 

“I’ll take her,” Leo said. Raph shot him a warning look. Leaving you in his brother’s hands was not his ideal scenario right now. “She’ll be safe with me. I’ll get her cleaned up.” You were covered in a lot of his blood and it probably helping your overstimulation.   There was something gentle and kind in Leo’s eyes. Something Raph knew well. Something he trusted. As much as it killed him to leave your side, there wouldn’t be space for you in the lad if Donnie was going to give him a full check up. And maybe you didn’t need to be bombarded with stats and vitals and confusing medical terms about how shit he actually felt. 

“Okay,” Raph leaned over and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Go with Leo,” he murmured softly in your ear. “I’ll be right there,” 

Your head bobbed a little as you let Leo take you out of the lab. Raph hoped to God that Leo was back to his old self. Or there would be genuine hell to pay if he did anything nefarious with you in this state. Raph would probably kill him. 

“What happened man?” Donnie asked as machines whirred around him, getting all sorts of scans only Donatello could understand the full extent of. 

“I opened my fucking mouth to Shredder and got the shit kicked out of me,” he muttered. “Y/n showed up just in time. Called the mafia in. We were able to get out.” He winced as Don started to sew his skin back together in a few places while a robot arm applied antibacterial spray to smaller wounds. 

“I thought Shredder hasn’t been hostile so far?” Donatello mused. “What changed?”

“I won’t even pretend to know.” Raph muttered. “I’m just glad she was there,” 

“Yeah man,” Donnie said. “I can’t believe she has an in with the mafia,” 

Raph cracked a smile. “She’s got a knack for finding her way into protected spaces. Like the universe knows she needs it.” 

“She needs you Raph,” Donnie said, wrapping gauze around a few minor wounds and over his new stitches. “You gotta tell her before it kills you both,”

“I know,” he said rather seriously. 

Though his brain kicked into overdrive to protect you, he was still thinking about that kiss. How desperate you were for him. How you didn’t push him away but pulled him closer. How you begged him not to leave you. 

It finally hit him. 

You felt the same way. 

The exact same way.

That little whispered ‘love you’ was for him. 

He froze. 

“Raph? You good? Did I miss something?” Donatello was concerned. 

“No. I—I gotta find her. Tell her…” Raph muttered. 

“Right now? You’re covered in blood dude and I still need the results from your CT.” His brother rose an eyebrow at him. 

“I love her,” Raph said, his face serious and soft. Donatello stopped and smiled. 

“I know,” he said. “And you can tell her as soon as I know you don’t have any broken bones or internal bleeding. I’m sure she’d appreciate that,” 

Raph smiled. “Yeah you’re right, she would.” 

Oh he could imagine you getting so upset that he abandoned medical care for any reason. You’d get stubborn and drag him back to Donnie if you had to. He smiled lazily at the thought. No painkiller was stronger than the thought of your hostile care for him. 

When Donnie finally cleared him of any major internal damage, Raph immediately beelined to find you. He saw Leo on the couch so that was where he’d start. 

“Hey where—“ Raph started to ask until he saw you were asleep on the couch, an old comfort sitcom on. You were cleaned up and in some extra pjs. Your hair was wet. He wondered if you showered. Leo was sitting with you on the couch, watching over you. 

He went to sit next to Leo. It wasn’t the conversation he thought he’d be having now, but he did need to talk to Leo all the same. And if you could sleep he’d let you. 

“What gives man? I thought you were mad at her?” Raph kept his voice low to not wake you. Leo volunteering to care for you was so odd. And he’d been… supportive of Raph’s feelings for you too. 

“I was.” Leo said. “Part of me still is, but… that day she showed up at Splinters grave… I was… seeking guidance from him. About what to do. Shredder is back and… I wanted an answer. Needed one… and…” Leo shrugged. “She walked up. Didn’t hesitate to kneel beside me. And she started crying and I could feel her grief.” Leo inhaled and looked over at you. “And I just couldn’t be mad at someone so… raw. And honest about her pain… I… I never thought she cared. I was wrong,” Leo said. He smiled a bit then. “And then she defended me to you of all people. She didn’t have to but she did.” 

“Yeah I know how that goes,” Raph smiled. “And Leo… I’m sorry, if you ever felt like you couldn’t talk to us. To me, about any of this. I…. I know when she left, it did hit me hard. And then we got busy and never talked about it and… I’m sorry I never made space for it.” Raph said. “You’re my brother and to think you’ve been carrying that alone all this time? I… I’m sorry man,” Raph blinked away tears. 

“Me too,” Leo said. “I… I should have said something. I… I didn’t even know it bothered me that much until she came back…” 

“I wanna keep her around Leo,” Raph said very sure of himself. “I—I want a life with her,”

Leo smiled. “And you should have it. But for now you guys should get some sleep. You look like shit,” Leo grinned. Raph returned it. 

It wasn’t all fixed, but it was better. It was a step toward a better relationship. Without Splinter, they were all the family they had left. 

Leo helped Raph move you to his room—Raph was barely keeping himself upright. He didn’t trust himself to carry you safely. 

Leo laid you gently down after Raph had moved the covers back. His brother made sure you were comfortable and he had what he needed to get on the mend. It was a comforting nostalgia. Raph wanted to hold you, but the way Donnie wrapped him and the lingering pain it wasn’t a good idea. But hopefully you were sticking around. 

The meds started to kick in, and his exhaustion washed over him like the tide coming in. 

~

Raph heard you gasp loudly and flinch hard, waking him up. You were hyperventilating, your eyes squeezed shut. You sat up, muttering to yourself. 

“Y/n? Honey?” Raph propped up, ignoring the pain that caused. The painkillers had worn off already. You were crying. Well shit. 

“Hey what’s wrong?” He shifted so he could pull you into his arms. Raph winced but swallowed down the pain. “I’m here, Y/n, you’re okay, you’re safe.”

You hid your face in his shoulder and he could feel the shaky breaths you took in. Your voice was small as you repeated his words. You were safe. He was here. It was okay. He was okay. It was just a dream. 

You inhaled deeply and sat back to wipe your eyes. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you said, still watery. “I’m sorry. I—it’s—“ 

“Hey, no, no,” Raph said, reaching out to stroke your cheek. “What’s goin on?”

“Just. Nightmares. I—I still get them. It’s… it’s hard to tell what’s reality after. I—I’m sorry. I—it’s—I’m—“ you took a deep breath in. “I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s usually just me and the cat and she’d let me hold her til I calmed down but she’s not here and—“ you were crying again. 

“Hey, woah okay,” Raph soothed, not wanting you to get worked up again. “Alright honey, it’s okay,” he had an idea. “Hang on,”

Raph stumbled out of bed—almost falling because of his injured incoordination—and to his closet where shoved on the top shelf was a box. And inside something you gave to him a long time ago. 

“Here,” he offered the stuffed dinosaur to you. “I know it’s not your cat but… hopefully it’ll help?” 

You stared at him and started crying again as you clutched the stuffed animal in your arms. What the hell? 

“You kept this?” You said through tears. “I can’t believe you kept this. Why—why would you do that after everything I did?” 

.

part five

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masterlist

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"Observing," Tony corrects, his voice rough with contentment. His fingers trace lazy patterns along your shoulder, down your arm, back up again. "There's a difference. Observing is scientific. Romantic, even."

You crack one eye open to find him propped on his elbow, looking at you like you're something precious. His hair is a disaster - your fault, from running your fingers through it earlier - and there's a softness to his features that the rest of the world rarely sees.

"Romantic," you repeat, smiling. "Is that what we're calling it?"

"I'm a romantic guy." He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, slow and sweet. "Ask anyone."

"Pretty sure Pepper would disagree."

"Pepper's biased." Another kiss, this one to your temple. "She never appreciated my gift-giving genius."

You hum as his lips trail to your cheek, feather-light and unhurried. Everything about this moment feels suspended in amber - the warmth of the sun on your skin, the weight of the blanket pooled at your waist, Tony's hand splayed possessively across your hip.

When his mouth finally finds yours, it's lazy and languid, the kind of kiss that has nowhere to go and all the time in the world to get there. His lips are soft, tasting faintly of the coffee he had earlier, and you sigh into it, letting yourself sink deeper into the pillows.

Tony shifts closer, careful of the swell of your belly between you. His hand slides from your hip to rest there instead, palm warm through the thin fabric of your sleep shirt - his sleep shirt, actually, stolen from his drawer weeks ago when your own clothes stopped fitting comfortably.

"Hi," he whispers against your mouth, and you can feel his smile.

"Hi yourself."

He kisses you again, deeper this time but still unhurried, his thumb stroking gentle circles over your rounded stomach. When you part, he doesn't go far, just rests his forehead against yours, breathing you in.

"How are my two favorite people doing?"

"Your favorite people are tired," you say, but there's no heat in it. "Someone kept us up late working in the workshop."

"Someone wanted to finish the new crib design." His hand continues its soothing motion, and you feel the baby shift beneath his touch, a flutter of movement that makes you both pause. Tony's eyes light up the way they always do when he feels it - pure wonder, like he's witnessing something miraculous. "Hey, there's my little genius."

"Your little genius is using my bladder as a trampoline."

"Gets that from me. The genius part, not the trampoline thing." He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, then the sensitive spot beneath your ear that makes you shiver. "Want me to talk to them? Explain proper bladder etiquette?"

You laugh, the sound melting into a contented sigh as he nuzzles into your neck. "I don't think they're listening to reason yet."

"They will. They're a Stark." His voice is muffled against your skin, warm breath tickling. "We're very reasonable people."

"You're ridiculous people."

"Ridiculously charming." He pulls back just enough to look at you again, and the tenderness in his expression makes your chest ache in the best way. His hand cups your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone. "Ridiculously in love with you."

Before you can respond, he's kissing you again, soft and slow and perfect. You curl into him, one hand fisting in his shirt, the other finding his hair. The baby does another little flip between you, and Tony smiles against your lips, his hand moving to cradle your belly with something like reverence.

Outside, the city hums with its usual chaos. But here, in this sun-soaked sanctuary of tangled sheets and lazy kisses, there's only this: his warmth, his touch, his love wrapped around you like a promise.

"Love you too," you whisper when you finally break apart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not supposed to have this.”

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s when he heard her scream.

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

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

“Bitch, that’s enough!”

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

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

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

It was him!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who’s she?” he asked in a low voice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still, you apologized. “I’m sorry…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Donnie?” you quietly called.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mikey had reminded you how family is supposed to feel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry if I…if the kiss…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Donnie smiled as you took your hands away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was that good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Every way you know how.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holy shit.

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

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

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

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

“Alright, brace yourself.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The End

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Tony's smile starts slow - that private smile reserved only for you, the one without performance or pretense. His hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone with a tenderness that still surprises you after all this time. The calluses on his fingers, earned from years in the workshop, catch slightly on your skin.

"Hey," he whispers, and there's a tremor in his voice you've only heard a handful of times. Vulnerability looks beautiful on him.

"Hey yourself," you manage, your own voice thick with emotion.

"So... we did it." His other hand finds your waist, drawing you closer. "You're stuck with me now. Legally binding. No returns, no exchanges."

"Tony…"

"I know, I know. Stop talking and kiss you already." But he pauses, his forehead touching yours, and you feel him take a shaky breath. "I just need a second to... God, look at you. How did I get this lucky?"

Your fingers curl into the lapels of his Tom Ford tuxedo. "Kiss me, Stark."

"Yes, ma'am."

When his lips meet yours, the world narrows to just this: the firm press of his mouth, the taste of champagne and promise, the way his hand slides into your hair, careful not to disturb the pins holding your veil. The kiss starts gentle like he's afraid you might disappear if he holds too tight.

But then you sigh against his mouth, and something shifts.

Tony pulls you flush against him, deepening the kiss with a passion that makes your knees weak and your bouquet slip forgotten from your fingers. You hear it hit the floor with a soft thud. Distantly, you register cheers and applause, Rhodey's wolf whistle, Pepper's delighted laugh. But it all feels far away, muffled by the thundering of your heart and the way Tony is kissing you like you're his salvation.

Because maybe you are. Maybe you're the person who taught him that he could be loved not for the armor or the money or the genius, but for the man underneath all of it - flawed and scarred and trying so damn hard to be better.

When you finally break apart, both breathless, Tony rests his forehead against yours again. His eyes are suspiciously bright.

"I love you," he says, and it sounds like a vow all over again. "I'm going to spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret this."

You smooth your hands up his chest, feeling his heart racing beneath your palms. "I could never regret you, Tony. Never."

He grins then - that full-wattage smile that still makes your stomach flip - and laces his fingers through yours. "Ready, Mrs. Stark?"

Mrs. Stark. The name settles over you like a blessing.

"Ready."

Together, you turn to face your future: the applauding guests, the life you'll build, the adventures waiting just beyond this perfect moment. His hand squeezes yours, warm and solid and real.

the first time you confessed that his blood smelled… different, he immediately became suspicious.

“what the hell does that even mean?” he’d cross his arms, convinced you were joking.

when you quietly admitted you were struggling not to think about biting him, his face turned bright red before he barked at you to stay five feet away.

he spent the next hour pretending it didn’t bother him while secretly wondering why you specifically wanted his blood.

when he eventually learned that vampires don’t simply “choose another person” when they’re attached to someone, everything changed.

he hated the thought of you suffering because you refused to feed from strangers, and while donnie insisted there had to be another solution, raph made up his mind on his own.

one night he simply walked over, rolled up the sleeve on his forearm, looked away with burning cheeks, and muttered, “just… get it over with.”

he tenses every single time. every muscle in his body locks the moment your fangs touch his skin. his hands curl into fists, his jaw clenches, and he lets out a low grunt through gritted teeth.

not because he regrets it—but because it hurts, and he’s never been particularly good at hiding pain. even then, he never once tells you to stop before you’ve had enough.

despite acting tough, he watches your face afterward more than his own wound. if your skin regains some color, if your eyes lose that hungry look, if you seem healthier… that’s enough for him.

he’ll quietly wrap a bandage around his arm while pretending he doesn’t notice you looking guilty.

he’d absolutely tease you afterward. “that enough for ya, vampire?” he’ll smirk, trying to lighten the mood because he knows you’ll apologize at least five times.

inside, though, he’s oddly proud that he could help you in a way nobody else could.

leo isn’t thrilled about it. he’s worried about infections, blood loss, your self-control… basically everything.

raph argues with him constantly about it. “i know what i’m doin’.”

he doesn’t, not really, but he’d rather deal with leo’s lectures than watch you slowly weaken because you refuse to feed.

your biggest fear is accidentally taking too much. one night you’re so hungry that you force yourself to stop halfway through, shaking so badly you nearly cry.

before you can apologize, raph cups the side of your face with one huge hand. “look at me.” you do. “you stopped. you were in control.” hearing him say it so confidently helps quiet the panic in your head.

he’s ridiculously protective immediately after feeding. maybe it’s because he’s slightly weaker for a little while, or maybe it’s because he knows you’re emotionally exhausted afterward, but he becomes even more possessive than usual.

one arm around your shoulders, keeping you close while glaring at anyone who gets too near, silently daring them to say something.

he absolutely refuses to let anyone shame you for what you are. if someone calls you a monster, his temper explodes before yours ever can.

“she ain’t hurtin’ anybody.” his voice drops into that dangerous growl everyone recognizes. “she’s got more self-control than most humans i’ve met.”

over time, feeding becomes strangely intimate rather than frightening. instead of treating it like a burden, raph starts preparing for it.

he’ll sit somewhere quiet, remove the wraps from his forearm, take a steady breath, and nod toward you. no dramatic speeches. no hesitation. just complete trust.

for someone as guarded as raphael, that’s about the closest thing to saying i love you.

one evening you quietly ask him why he keeps doing this when it hurts every time. he shrugs at first, avoiding your eyes like the question annoys him.

after a long silence, he finally mutters, “…because i can’t fix what you are…but i can make sure you don’t gotta go through it alone.”

then, embarrassed by his own honesty, he immediately tells you to stop looking at him like that before he changes his mind. even though you both know he never would.

ᥫ᭡

Donnie’s bed was warm. You’d spent the last three hours getting pelted by the hot, sticky New York rain as you failed in your endeavour to finish your errands for the day. First, all of the trains had been delayed because the city’s coalition of crackheads had decided today was the day they demonstrated their power. You had spent an hour outside with fat droplets bursting on your face as you waited for the bus instead, but to no avail. It seemed the bus driver just hadn’t wanted to pick up the passengers at the bus stop you were waiting at, and what’s more, drove past as such speed it soaked your legs with the grimy water collecting in the gutter that conjoined the road and the sidewalk. Another hour was spent trying to walk to a different bus station. Your phone ran out of battery midway and you resorted to very angrily stomping through the streets for shelter. Finally, thoroughly soaked through, undignified and ready to hit something, you made your way to the closest entrance down into the sewers and just prayed you’d find salvation in the lair.

Donnie had been grabbing a juice box from the kitchen when you’d squelched in looking utterly disgruntled. Mikey was closer, lounging on a beanbag by the lair’s entrance when you arrived and hopping up when he noticed your presence, bounding over with a big grin.

“Wassup, wassup, wassup! Uhh… You take a dip before you get here?”

You glumly stared at Mikey in response. Droplets of rainwater slid down the contours of your clothes and dismally dripped down onto the floor, leaving you with a personal puddle. “Funny, Angel.” You grit your teeth as you spoke, sighing heavily. You were sure the damp was entering your soul and giving you some sort of spiritual pneumonia. Donnie made his way over almost immediately after, a sympathetic look on his face. He did seem a little amused at the wet rat look you had going on, though. Adorable.

“Hey. You should get in the shower, you look freezing. How long were you in the rain for?”

You shook your head and shrugged.

“Um- maybe a couple hours? I left at 9 and I don’t know what time it is right now, so…”

“Three hours. C’mon, let’s get you dry. Don’t worry about the floor. Mikey can handle it.”

Donnie shot Mikey a half stern, half playful look and ushered you along. Mikey groaned exaggeratedly in the background as you both headed off towards the shower. Donnie’s large hands hovered beside your shoulders, unsure of whether he should touch you as he walked alongside you. You had started rambling.

“I’m sorry for turning up unannounced. My phone ran outta juice and the trains and buses were delayed and I couldn’t go anywhere to get out of the rain because apparently the stores have a limit on people getting shelter without buying something, which is ridiculous but they were full anyway so it didn’t matter if I bought something or not.”

Donnie was trying to listen, he really was, but he was more concerned about the way you were shivering and the waterlogged swell of your clothes. “Don’t worry, you’re always allowed down here. Here. If you’re okay with it, I can help you out of that?”

You hesitated, but then remembered the variety of embarrassing situations you’d been in with the turtles over the years and relented with a nod. This was just another one of those. That’s all this was.

“Right. Arms up.” Donnie peeled the heavy jacket off you, along with your sweater. He averted his eyes determinedly and busied himself with turning the shower on while you shucked off your heavy jeans. You were less than amused by the way they refused to come off and clung onto you as though suctioned by the rain.

“These- fuck- ass- jeans!” You heaved a breath once they finally came off, leaving you in your equally soggy underwear. You grimaced. Ew. Donnie almost laughed at the sound of your struggles. He rummaged until he found the nicer-smelling soap from the cabinet to leave in the shower caddy.

“Just leave them in the laundry bin, we can deal with the washing later. I’m pretty sure Mikey still has a big ass load of his stuff to be dried so we’ll need to wait anyway.”

“Thank you Don.”

Donnie left a couple of towels on the rail and very quickly exited, saying something vaguely about finding you some clothes. You weren’t listening, too busy stepping under the warm rush of the shower and sighing in relief; the steam quickly rose up to fill the bathroom. Salvation at last. As you sluiced the soap suds off your body and tried to forget the potential undiscovered waterborne diseases New York boasted, you thought about Donnie. You both had a strange dynamic. I mean, he’d literally just helped you out of your clothes like it was normal, doesn’t that count as strange? When you had first met the turtles almost three and a half years ago, you had been more concerned with keeping your distance: maintaining a decent balance of closeness while remaining apart. Your attempts to be poised had quickly become in vain with the sheer amount of life-threatening situations you’d been thrown into after meeting the turtles. There was being tracked down by foot soldiers, getting stranded underground with Raph and Donnie, having to deal with all the other problems that came with Leo’s insistence on your inclusion on patrols, not to mention the Krang’s quasi-invasion and subsequent disarray amongst the foot clan. After all of it, you had grown far closer to the brothers and less preoccupied with courtesy. Donnie was who you grew the closest to. He’d learned that he could rely on you to help him in the lab in ways the others couldn’t. Mikey was banned from the lab for a reason after all. You had the ability to reach where he couldn’t, had the same perfectionist trait that made him trust you’d do everything just as he told you to and the desire to learn and not just replicate. You loved when he taught you about complex things in simple ways and you quickly learned to get the gist of what he was talking about when he went into a lecture about planetary systems or biomechanics. After long nights working alongside him, or calls begging him to help you with your major’s material that turned into scheduled meetings where he’d help you with your assignments, things turned complicated. The calls often got sidetracked to the latest episode of a show you both liked, or the Knicks winning a game, or other ridiculous theoretical conversations. The two of you were complicated people with a complicated relationship, but you were eternally grateful to have found a friend and mentor in the purple turtle.

The squeak of the shower turning off pulled you from your thoughts and you instead focused on wrapping yourself up in one of the towels on the rack. Donnie had left you some of your spare clothes just outside, and you gratefully pulled them on. You and April had collectively decided to stash a change of clothes down in the lair for the next time you’d inevitably need it, and it had payed off once more. Though you did feel a little awkward about your underwear being right next to Leo’s stuff even if the leader in blue had insisted there was space for yours and April’s spare clothes. Mikey too had offered half of his and Raph’s shared wardrobe space, but you were a little skeptical of its cleanliness. You knew for a fact Leo religiously cleaned his room and taking up the cramped compartments both Mikey and Raph already needed to use hadn’t felt right. The orange turtle had definitely just asked for April’s sake, anyway. 

Feeling clean and far warmer than before, you padded right to Donnie’s bedroom to make use of his bed. Lord knew he hardly used it. He often opted to sleep in his lab or desk chair or the couch in the main area. The lair had a cold, damp, soggy sort of atmosphere due to the relentless rain above ground and you refused to catch a cold; you tugged the corner of the blanket around you to shield you from the possibility. Donnie wouldn’t mind. He never seemed to mind how you’d grown so comfortable regarding his things. As you huddled under the covers you spotted your phone charging in one of the ports beside the bed. You hid your smile in the blankets. The purple turtle truly was a sweetheart.

▹▹▹

“Leo, ion mess with this plan ‘a yours.”

“Yeah? Well we’re doing this anyway. Now listen up. We know Karai is taking over as leader of the foot clan, since Shredder is out of the playing field. I need our eyes across the city tonight, which means you—” Leo pointed at Raph “—need to focus on Downtown Brooklyn. Mikey, listen, you’ve got 63rd. Casey’s focusing on the NYPD gig at the bridge and April, you’re down scouting on lower east side. I’ll be around there.” The leader in blue reiterated your positions for the third time tonight, sighing heavily to himself and pinching between his eyes as Mikey gave April a big beam and thumbs up. He then turned to you.

“You’re posted near Red hook. Donnie, you’ve got the job of patrolling in the truck. But keep a low profile, would you?”

Donnie nodded in response, checking the time on his watch. You watched the way the tall turtle flexed his hands, his tridactyl fingers fidgeting to fix any loose straps on his gear. You yourself instinctively mimicked the action, checking your own comms and ensuring your pack was secured tight. The lot of you dispersed. The foot clan had become disorganised with Shredder out of the picture and only with Karai’s ascension to leader did they stand a chance. That was exactly what was happening, and tonight was the night the foot clan was going to hit the city, fully operational once more.

Initially you hadn’t been the greatest at these sorts of things. Leo and Master Splinter had seen your potential to be useful on missions and convinced you of your proficiency. Both you and April were good at remaining inconspicuous where the boys would stand out and your job tonight was to play innocent, patrol near the docks and inform the turtles of any foot clan activity by them. The lot of you were to act as a network, if one of you spotted the rise of soldiers the rest could relay it and, with the help of the NYPD, shut it down before it started. That was the plan at least. You really couldn’t stick around for long, not with the iron weight of the assignments you’d left to the last minute encumbering your thoughts. The idea of your beady eyed professor clacking on his keyboard with his grubby uncut nails to email you for the second time about your late submissions made you wrinkle your nose. One way or another you were shutting the foot clan’s shit down and finishing your pending work.

Two hours passed with no sign of any activity at all. You’d had a lovely conversation with an old man who seemed to have gotten the fancy to fish at this time of night, and you were too endeared to have any objections. Other than helping said man and his kit down to the docks there hadn’t been any further encounters. Your breath clouded as it hit the air. The cold of the evening began to penetrate your layers. The sky was dark and contrasted harshly by the lights of the city; wind blew in all directions and the endless noise of the sleepless citizens seemed to reach your ears through a muffler. You shut your eyes. The wind disturbed your hair and fluttered through your clothing. You felt your heart slow. Perhaps the sudden tranquility running through you was what prompted you to open your eyes again just in time to catch a dark shadow dropping down from a cargo container. Immediately the sound of your heartbeat entered your ears, your pupils contracted and you were as alert as anything. What was that? You had been hoping the bay would remain untouched, but the rational side of your brain knew that was implausible. The splash of the waves lapping at the edge of the bay and the usual bustle of the city were all that filled the air; gentle creaks and groans from the walled off construction site and the occasional muted yell pierced the night. Everything felt as though it was held in suspense for a moment. Before you could jump to any hasty conclusions you got closer to get a better look… Silence. Perhaps you’d imagined i- CRACK. The sudden crackle of your comms made you jump. You cursed and exhaled in relief when you realised it was just Mikey. You really needed to get Donnie on refining the long range comms system. Your relief was short lived once the sound of the orange turtle’s voice filled your ears.

“Dudes, we have foot soldiers coming out the underground. Hurry your shells over here, over.”

“Mikey we told you, you don’t gotta say ‘over’ every damn time.” The sound of Raph’s voice filled your ears and you almost let out a chuckle before Leo interjected.

“We have some trouble up here too. There was an IED that went off just a second ago. Casey, get ready, I’m gonna try to bring them to the bridge. Looks like about fifty of them. ATL Karai, Mikey.”

“ATL? Why are we talking about Atlanta right now, over?”

“Attempt. To. Locate!” You could hear the way the leader in blue was gritting his teeth even through the static-y audio of your comms.

“Guys, I’m seeing soldiers here, too. They must be all over the city.” April’s hushed voice could be heard. You scanned your perimeters, hoping she was wrong. That would really fuck up your night. Leave it to the foot clan to take a dump on your plans for peace.

“Ah fuck. Yeah, you’re right April. I got some trash downtown to take out,” Raph grunted. The blue glow from your tracker left highlights on your face. You checked their positions. Raph… Mikey… April… Leo… Your eyes flickered up away from your tracker a second too late, you were met face to face with a foot soldier. Shit! You hadn’t been paying attention. Comms. Tell Leo. You went for your comms and the soldier attempted to get a solid hit to your head with their elbow. It landed with a thump and you let out a yelp that thankfully carried through to the others.

“They’re at the docks!”

Donnie was coincidentally near the bay when the comms crackled to life and everyone clashed as they reported the foot clan activity popping up across the city. He swerved the truck the second he heard your voice. His heart rate spiked. The tone of your voice had sounded pained and he was starting to freak out a little. “Hang tight, I can get to the docks. Leo, what’s the plan?”

“Our mission is to minimise damage and lock up Karai. Focus on the objective people.”

You ducked under the second swing the soldier aimed at you, getting up close to hit the figure hard in the gut; the ninja doubled over and you used the butt of your trusty taser to hit them over the head. Thank god you’d curated your own set of essentials to bring on these missions. You spotted a couple of other shadows in the dark and, cursing, ran for cover. Despite the situation your mind was still on how screwed you’d be if you got home late. You ran through the different options you had in your mind: email your profs and say you were indisposed and hadn’t had a chance to finish, go radio silent until your next lecture, pull an all-nighter. None of the options seemed feasible and you silently lamented your poor decision to do your work tonight. The thought of employing Donnie’s help very briefly ran through your mind, but you knew full well you couldn’t bring yourself to keep the poor man awake. He had his own work to do. Quit being selfish. You ducked behind the rusty corrugated metal scrap left over from the construction site, sandwiched between a wall and the scrap with your head throbbing where the guy’s elbow had connected with your cranium. Holding your breath, you waited and listened for any sound. The others were talking over each other on the comms and you winced at the stuttering audio, praying it was inaudible to anyone who got close to your hiding spot, shutting your eyes for a second while you regained your bearings. Footsteps echoed. Their volume increased incrementally until you were sure if you didn’t move you’d be a sitting duck. Moving quickly, you sidestepped out from your hiding spot, holding the handle of your taser and keeping your elbows tucked close. I can do this, you thought. A throwing knife shot right in your direction as you emerged and the glistening edge grazed your arm, zipping past. Oh hell no, I can’t do this. You instinctively flinched away in anticipation of the second, but instead heard a dull twang as it ricocheted off a metal surface and you were left unscathed.

“You okay? Oh thank goodness. Right. Turtle time!”

Donnie had arrived. You felt a giant wave of relief flood your body. He kicked back and spun around, a couple more silver blurs rebounded off his shell; he used his staff to sweep two of the foot soldiers off their feet, hitting the advancing ones with the end of the bo. Spin, sweep, thwack, kick. You always loved watching him fight, the speed at which the movements were performed and the analysis and execution all at once baffled you. Donnie moved with a kind of fluidity that made you forget his size, he looked like he was floating. His combat skills were a form of art. The shadowy figures lay slumped on the ground and the tall turtle whipped back in your direction, coming back over to you once he’d ensured no one else was close by. Exertion made his voice a little lower. 

“Hey. We need to get out of here before any more ninja turn up. I was thinking if we use the truck, we might just be able to get across the city and rendezvous at the—you’re hurt. Hey, no, let me see.” Donnie frowned when he noticed your arm and you rolled your shoulder back so he wouldn’t fuss over it.

“Donnie, I’m fine, I’m just glad you’re here. You don’t have to-” You let out a big sigh as Donnie’s large hand gently pressed against your upper arm. He inspected the sliver cut into your clothing and the line in your skin that beaded glistening drops of red. His thumb swiped some of it away and he sucked in a breath at the same time you sharply inhaled. He fumbled for a patch in his tool belt, pulling down on the opening in the fabric to stick the sterile strip on your wound. He pushed to ensure it stuck properly.

“So. What d’you think?”

“What I always think. You’re amazing.” You inspected the patch and experimentally moved your arm. Donnie smiled.

“Not the greatest patch job in the world but I’ll take care of it once we’re in a safer location. Good to go for now. Let’s get to the truck.”

The two of you made it to where Donnie had parked after taking out several other soldiers. Donnie had a steadfast focus. The yellow and red ’Tartaruga brothers’ emblazoned across the side of the modded van stood out in the dim light of the streetlamp and you hopped in the passenger seat. You remembered doing the spot welding on the wires above the centre console a while back with the tall turtle; you’d had a gnarly crick in your neck after spending hours on the welding. It had been left untouched for a while before he’d enlisted your help. Donnie’s arm flexed as he started the van up and turned the steering wheel to round the vehicle onto the main roads, and you watched. You absentmindedly wondered if in the future you could do this again in a different context. Just you and Donnie on a night drive. That sounded nice. You’re on a mission, focus. You leaned over to switch on the main gps. Did Donnie really need so many buttons on the display? You eyed the little coloured dots that indicated where everyone’s location was. “There won’t be much traffic. Our ETA to the bridge is 20 minutes, but I’m gonna speed.” Donnie paused, looking over at you, then the road, then back at you. “You okay?” There was a faint ringing in your ears and you blinked. Your head pricked uncomfortably. The coloured dots of Donnie’s gps left light trails in your vision when the truck bumped over a pothole; long exposure was not on your list of effects your vision had. That wasn’t great. You blinked it away.

“I’m okay. Long night.” You tried to give him a smile. Donnie kept his eyes fixed on the road, not buying your response, but not able to press further, either. It was always like this with him. He could never find the courage to invade your mind, to ask the questions that actually mattered. He could touch you under the guise of helping you, but he couldn’t reach over to hold your hand. Now that he thought about it, there were all sorts of inconsistencies with the careful balance you both had. He’d helped you out of your clothes: that succeeded hand holding, right? No. You trusted him to help you and he had. That was all. He was the one agonising over every little detail and blowing things out of proportion. That had been to help you. Holding your hand now would just be presumptuous. But he wanted to. Greedy. The silent support would’ve probably helped him, too, but he kept both hands firmly on the wheel. Responsibility came first, like Leo said.

A good 15 minutes later you both reached the Manhattan bridge where the NYPD had gathered officers in charge of the operation. There had been a sort of barricade set up at both ends of the bridge that would serve to close in any hostiles who got in close. Leo had brought the foot clan to them; Mikey and Raph had also intersected with their respective groups of foot soldiers on their tails and were 2 minutes out from the force. If all went smoothly things would be wrapped up in the next hour. You hopped out from the truck, jogging over to where Casey stood beside Bureau chief Vincent with his hands on his hips. The man shook his head, cursing. “Dang it. No Karai.” You surveyed the scene: several black-clad figures bound together and being pushed down into the back of a police van. You looked to Donnie who was frowning but gave you a nod when he caught your gaze. As if sensing your want for information, he checked the holographic display on his watch.

“Mikey and Raph are a mile out. With the police covering the city attacks seem to be lower than the average at which they were when Shredder was in charge. We can only surmise that tonight the foot clan was… operating separately from Karai, probably with expendable recruits. It looks like she has some self-preservation.” He frowned again, eyes scanning your surroundings for Leo. You shut your eyes for a moment. Your head was still twinging, a relentless, cyclical pain that told you here and now to give up on your already half-hearted plans of an all-nighter. A touch to your shoulder snapped your eyes open once more.

“We’re moving.”

▹▹▹

The way back from the police department almost lulled you to sleep. Donnie offered to drop you to your apartment on the way back to the lair. You had gratefully accepted, leaning against the truck door and staring out of the window as Donnie drove. The quiet sound of the brother’s voices drifted from the back.

“I’m sayin’ they knew that we knew about their little stunt tonight. If Leo had listened when I said-”

“Alright, enough. I can admit tonight didn’t exactly go as planned, Raph. Now cut it out.”

“Did you guys see the amount of soldiers though? I was totally freaking out for a second there but it was like takedown city. I don’t even think they were trained, just guns in the hand and go.” Mikey gestured exaggeratedly, leaning back in his seat with a sigh and continuing to press his thumbs to his phone screen; a faint laser sound emitted from the game he was playing.

“Karai’s roping innocents into her ranks.” Leo spotted Mikey’s concerned expression and shook his head, stepping around to put a hand on Mikey’s shoulder. “Don’t worry little brother. We’ll handle this.”

“Man I’m tired of this junk. I ain’t doin’ the dishes tonight Leo, ’s your turn.” Raph mumbled. He ran a hand over his face to rub the sleep from it. Leo deadpanned.

“We have a rota.”

Raph imitated his voice under his breath “‘We have a rota.’ Control issues much?”

“Dudes I’m trying to beat my score on here would you please postpone this argument?”

“Shut up Mikey.”

Donnie parked in front of your dingy student apartment building, shifting in his seat and leaning across to open your door for you while you unbuckled. Your chest was warm where it had touched his forearm. The warmth of his skin lingered over your heart as you got out of the car and watched Donnie drive off. A tired walk later, you were back home. The door to your apartment creaked with effort as you opened it and closed it behind you. You kicked off your shoes, hopping in a frustrated circle to tug off the second one and almost falling over. The extractor in your little bathroom whirred to life and started up its loud humming while you attempted to wash your hands and splash water on your face. ‘Just a quick shower and I can start my work’ you reasoned, stripping out of the now dirty clothes from the mission. You took a minute to stare at yourself in the mirror. No bad bruises from the mission, thankfully, but you had a sneaking suspicion your hair was covering up a hefty splodge of dark purple. The ache in your skull told you as much. The shower washed away the sweat that had collected down your back. You towelled yourself off, flopping down onto your sheets completely bare and exhausted. A dog barked down the street. The tick of the boiler cooling down set a familiar pace to the evening, the cool night air flowing in from the old fire escape window and a warm, soft glow from the lamps you had everywhere spilled out over the floor. You reached for the neatly folded pile of clothing on the bed, hardly moving to tug on a pair of panties and a shirt before unceremoniously rolling over to sit up and locate your laptop and phone. It was late. Your head hurt and you still had inordinate amounts of work to do. You took a look at your phone screen and were met with the sight of several notifications: an email, a few messages in the group chat from Leo, the persistent settings notification asking you to update your phone for the umpteenth time and the latest notification was from Donnie. Huh. 3 minutes ago. You clicked on the notification, unlocking your phone to read it.

Don🔬: Hey. I’m available tonight if you wanted some help to finish your assignments.

You looked at the message with a completely blank face. Then you read it again and the tiniest of smiles began to form. God, Donnie was a lifesaver. You’d complained about the work before the mission earlier that evening to Raph with no idea at all that Donnie had been listening. You held your breath and typed out a reply.

You: Are you sure? It’s late and I don’t want to keep you up.

You set your phone face down, arm flung over your face as you lay there. His response came quicker than you expected.

Don🔬: I’m sure. Join the call when you’re ready, I’ll be waiting. 

You scrambled off your bed, sitting down on your squeaky desk chair and turning on your monitor. You winced at the sudden glare from the screen and blindly fumbled for your glasses to put them on. A couple of clicks later you were staring at yourself in the grainy video feed of a zoom call, preparing to join. You tugged your wrinkled shirt. The mini you in the box mimicked your movements. Donnie had called you like this countless times and every time felt just as nerve wracking as the first, the anticipation of seeing him got your gut all twisted. You clicked once more and were met with the usual sight of Donnie in his chair. The blue glow from his nook of monitors cast his face in soft shadows. You could see the other screens in the background as he scooted his chair closer and the fact that he was stripped of his usual gear. Donnie smiled at the sight of your rumpled appearance. “Hey. You ready?”

You had to swallow down your nerves, nodding and rummaging around for your notebook and a pen that hadn’t run out of ink. You preferred taking your notes physically even if half of them were illegible. The three assignments you had, two of which were almost third of the way complete, were promptly pulled up. “I’m trying to hunker down on my argument for the essay and I think I’ve almost got it so I’m good on that, but for um… this one,” you shared your screen so Donnie could take a look, “this one I have no clue how to start. Or finish. Or anything, really. I just don’t understand how to apply the stupid Herfindahl-Hirschman index in this context or what econometric and statistical modelling even is anymore and I’m sick of it. How is this even relevant? I also wrote down-” you pushed up your blue light glasses awkwardly as you rifled through your notes, “-this, about what the professor said on the assignment. I can’t actually make out the first half so it’s useless, but if you can decipher it then by all means.”

You had a stressed expression on your face that made Donnie want to simultaneously laugh and fix everything immediately. He swallowed, focusing on the material you’d provided him. He’d spent a while familiarising himself with the concepts you had to learn, and with his affinity for the mathematical sides of things he’d whizzed through it without issue. You on the other hand had always been the more creative sort, thinking largely in complex, abstract branches that looped around than focused, linear cognitions. He understood, he himself was similar, though he made more sense of certain equations than you did.

“Okay, let’s start by going through the concept and then you tell me how you tried applying the HHI to this context, sound good?”

You nodded. Donnie adjusted his glasses and pulled up the good old whiteboard function. “Sweet. Okay, so imagine you have uh- um, let’s say, a bunch of grapes.” Donnie began to scribble something vaguely resembling grapes on the white screen. The pen lagged on your end and after a glitch some misshapen purple blobs appeared. You smiled. “You split it so you have 1 grape, 2 grapes, 3 grapes and 3 more grapes. These are going to represent hypothetical market shares; 10%, 20% and so on, and you have to square these numbers.” Donnie squiggled little ‘2’s that looked more like mirrored ’S’s next to the poorly drawn grapes. He knew full well you were well acquainted with the topic, but knew the best way to teach you was to start from the beginning. Besides, this way was more engaging both for him and for you.

“Add them up and there’s your HHI. 2300. This one’s a moderately concentrated index since it’s less than 2500.”

“So 23 grapes,” you responded, and Donnie nodded with a smile. “Precisely. I’m not drawing 23 grapes so don’t get your hopes up,” he quickly added when he caught your hopeful expression. “We need to focus. Now, I won’t further insult your intellectual prowess by continuing, I think you got the point. Tell me how you tried applying it to this question?”

Hours passed without your awareness. Notes filled your lined paper. A lukewarm mug of tea sat on your desktop; you’d gotten up at some point to put the kettle on to keep you going. You had slowed down considerably, encompassed by the warmth of the duvet you’d dragged off the bed and the pillow you had atop your desk to save your elbows. The bruised-eye-blue of predawn clouded the sky and you had long since submitted your work, started completing the essay, and yielded to your drowsiness. Donnie himself was still awake. The long caffeinated nights and endless energy drinks had given him a sort of nocturnal ability that he found useful in moments like these. He was watching you slip away on his screen. The lightening sky was filtering in through your curtains and leaving your room with a comforting fuzzy quality that bathed your figure in deep blueish grey shadows. The clutter around his setup had increased overnight; a box of pop tarts was tipped over on his desk, several charts lay discarded with brown espresso rings staining their diagrams and an old knitted blanket Raph had made was hanging over the armrest of his chair and swung every time he swivelled around. He was speaking at a quieter volume so as to not stir you from your imminent slumber. You were squinting at your screen, trying to navigate the infuriating submission system your uni used while Donnie rattled on about the pros and cons of his ‘compact mechanic’ robotics project.

“-and bam! I got it. I knew it would be awesome when I printed the first prototype, but the detail on the final model really exceeded my expectations, inter alia. It’s still a work in progress, it’s just the outer shell- pun not intended- that I’ve completed. But enough about me. All done?”

You tiredly nodded; eyes straining as you went to click the final submission button of the night. You were very visibly nodding off. Your duvet was slipping off from around your shoulders along with your shirt sleeve. You suspired, gazing at Donnie on your screen with a look that made his heart stutter.

“Mmhm. ’Took forever.”

Donnie blinked himself back to his senses, watching you contentedly settle your head down on your arms, glasses askew. How he wished he could be there to take them off and put you to bed. But Donnie was a coward and in lieu of his wishes opted to longingly stare at you through his screen. “I’m beat.” You yawned, hair curling over your forehead. Donnie’s fingers twitched, itching to push it out of your face. He sighed. He needed to stop.

“You did it, though. Hard part’s all over.”

An almost delirious, satisfied smile formed on your sleepy face. “You helped. I don’t know…” you yawned again, “…what I’d do without you, Donnie. You’re the best. I love you.”

The words had slipped from you so casually Donnie hadn’t even registered them for a moment. You’d said it once or twice before in a joking manner, but nothing compared to hearing you say it in a soft, sincere tone, on the verge of dreamland and eternally grateful. He knew you were. You were always so thankful for the simplest of things he did. He felt like an idiot: here he was getting covetous and you were just grateful he was helping you. His own feelings were the anomaly. He buffered. You had fallen asleep, the imperceptible sound of your breathing entered his ears. He turned his computer’s volume to the maximum and just sat there for a minute. Your breathing evened out, not at all like the way you breathed when you were awake. He watched the neckline of your shirt shift as you slept, the bare skin of your shoulder showing. He ached to kiss it. He’d been aching to be near you for so long that he was going insane. An invisible line held him back. Respect, guilt, insecurity, hell, just straight up cowardice; all of it held him back. He moved one of his large hands up, slowly reaching his fingers towards the screen. You looked relaxed when you slept, your brow was no longer clouded with worry and your facial muscles were completely slack. Ignoring the possibility of smudging fingerprints onto the display, Donnie gently brushed his fingers over your image. His breathing was shallow, afraid of making any noise that could cause you to stir as he stroked the screen. Fuck. He couldn’t tear his gaze away. Quietly, he went to leave the meeting. The black ‘this meeting has ended’ screen left him in a dimmer light than before, and he felt the loss of your presence along with it. He rubbed the hand that had been outstretched over his face.

“I love you, too.” Donnie whispered to the darkness of the lair.

▹▹▹

The New York skyline burned a fiery orange that melted up into a blue ombre. The city was alive tonight, more so than usual, with the brimming excitement surrounding the parties being thrown across the city. Vern had invited the turtles along to a friend’s private party, claiming they needed to take a leaf out of his book and make ‘friends in higher places’; presumably he’d meant the very same friend who would be throwing the party when he’d invited them to come along. The turtles were to be in safe hands, the party consisted mainly of rich sponsors, select NYPD officers looking to move up in the world, all sorts of models and friends of friends and extravagant New Yorkers who made party-going their thing. Vern relayed that he’d been granted the opportunity to bring 50 people of his choosing, 4 of which the host had insisted needed to be the ‘heroes’ of NY. Leo had been incredibly skeptical, as had Raph, but with Mikey’s budding excitement at the prospect of actually being part of the party for once they’d all begrudgingly accepted. They’d need to get used to being at least a little in the spotlight. Even if Leo had decided they needed to keep mostly to the shadows, these kinds of things were still expected occasionally. Besides, Donnie was double and triple checking that all the guests had signed some form of paperwork that involved not publicising the turtle’s attendance. It was rigorous. You and April were extended invitations.  You stressed about dresses. You loved and hated dressing up; the idea of getting all glammed up was fun, but in practice it was often the first of many stressors. Not to mention being around so many people while dressed up made you nervous. Being around so many people in general made you nervous. Since the two of you were heading to the party together, you went over to April’s to get ready. Makeup items were strewn across the bathroom counter of her apartment, April’s speaker blasted hype-music and after singing along and actually putting your dress on you felt far more confident about the evening. You took deep breaths in the car, smoothing over the bust of your dress. It was a little thing, flattering your body and glittering even in the dim lighting. You were a little wobbly in your elegant heels as you hadn’t had much practice walking in them, but you liked how the sparkly detailing matched your dress.

The venue was glamorous. It was an elevated club kind of building, with several floors and a few balconies that overlooked large grassy lawns. Lights littered the place (confusing the insects that used the moon as guidance) along with what appeared to be thousands of flowers spilling out from the bushes and wrapped around every pilar in sight. A cluster of tables filled the outdoor area and several smaller tables dotted the inside of the building. Caterers had set up in the junction between the indoor and outdoor area, boasting a wide range of food you knew full well you’d have never been able to afford with the money from your part time jobs. This was the real deal. The indoor area was a maze of glittering rooms, each with its own bar. The bartops were made of a sleek, polished white marble in the largest room, with pelmet lighting running under the counter and casting a soft diffused downwards glow on the barstools. The venue had lots of similar lighting features, with neon blues, purples and pinks casting colourful highlights on the guests. The now dark night sky contributed to the deep, club-like atmosphere of the place and you were suddenly glad your dress matched the vibe. Classy, but still very much a party dress. Bass thumped through the speakers into the night, setting a steady rhythm that matched the movements of the idle guests.

Donnie was way out of his element. He and his brothers were expected to make an appearance after accepting so he couldn’t have just bailed, but he was starting to regret accepting in the first place. His mind was on his work, far, far away from the sparkling outfits and glitz and glamour and bubbly alcohol. He had attempted to clean up some after seeing his brother’s outfit choices and realising his usual tech wear wouldn’t slide. The lot of them had got on his ass about making an effort. Mikey and Raph had gone the traditional 2000s route. Mikey was in an orange jersey shirt that he’d in one way or another donned under his shell; a couple chains glinted around his neck and he wore extremely baggy shorts that had his nunchaku stuffed in a pocket. Raph had found himself an equally baggy pair of jeans and been convinced by Mikey that jewellery was the way to go. The red turtle had somehow found a gold ring to fit around one of his thick fingers and wore one of Mikey’s spare chains, along with tying a red bandana around his bicep. Leo was more formal, with slightly threadbare suit slacks, a belt and a watch on his wrist. Donnie had rooted through his pile of sweats and cargos to find something viable and had finally settled on a decent-looking pair of pants, a black belt that sat lopsided and his usual purple forearm straps. He refused to be roped into the jewellery wearing, not wanting to relinquish his beloved watch. No way was he wearing Mikey’s old chain that advertised him as ‘M-dawg’ to the party. The purple turtle had been loitering around the entryway for some time now but decided to do a couple of rounds to get used to the place and shake off the nerves he was feeling.

Your first thought when you saw the venue was ‘holy shit’. Your second was also ‘holy shit’. The sheer number of guests overwhelmed you immediately. There were one or two familiar faces (April had introduced you to some of her colleagues before), but the majority were unrecognisable. You followed April like a lost puppy and let her do the talking while you assimilated. There are way too many people here. No way Donnie vetted every single one. You scanned the entryway for the turtles from your position in the far corner every so often. With no sign of any of them, you decided to split off from the brunette and head for the food vendors to take a look. Large platters were overflowing with food, your mouth watered the second the scent hit you. Pasta with a number of earthy toned sauces you couldn’t even begin to know the names of, little sandwiches cut into adorable triangles skewered through with toothpicks and surrounded by a charcuterie style assortment of grapes, cheeses and cold meats, tureens of fragrant soup with bread bowls positioned strategically around them, honey glazed chicken and some odd looking foods you didn’t recognise but knew involved overpriced caviar. Glossy picture-perfect strawberries on heaps of cake and cream, miniature eclairs flaked with gold leaf, round red glacé cherries, chocolate fondue. All sorts of other foods crowded the different tables and you eyed them all with fascination. You definitely needed a plate at some point. Yeah, no, I need a plate now. You went straight to the warmed porcelain plates stacked to the side of the buffet tables. The tiny little price tags beside each dish next to the cursive catering company name showed off how much the host had spent. Better them and not me! In your distraction you almost missed Mikey chowing down on a very full plate at a table in the corner. You refrained from laughing as you came over with your own plate.

“Angel, you seen your brothers anywhere?”

“Hm? Whaschujgm-min,” Mikey garbled with his mouth full, holding up one finger and swallowing before trying again. “I don’t know, I think I saw Leo by the bar. But you totally gotta try some of this, brah.” Mikey made a high-pitched contented noise. “Free food is the best.” You snorted. Mikey shoved one of the stuffed rolls onto your already full plate. The two of you inhaled the food and you managed seconds. It was so good you were considering splurging some of your own cash at some point, which Mikey advised you against and insisted all you needed to do was go to more parties for the free food. You bid Mikey goodbye after you felt considerably fuller. The lights glimmered hypnotically as you walked. Leo was still in fact by the bar, awkwardly conversing with one of the NYPD officers. You didn’t want to intrude and sidestepped past some glowing models to enter an adjacent room.

▹▹▹

‘This conversation sucks. It really sucks,’ Donnie thought. He’d been roped into discourse with one of Vern’s connections who seemed to think themselves an innovator. Donnie had been subjected to 20 minutes of the man’s self-important rambling and he was beginning to lose it, his eyes were flicking over the room and its decor in a bored manner and the guy still hadn’t taken the hint. Politeness features in conversation stated he needed to find a way out of this without attacking the negative face of Mr-whateverhisnamewas, but he didn’t exactly feel like hedging his way out of the conversation. The man had bright green, brown and yellow stripes on his tie that clashed horribly and he kept adjusting it like he hadn’t yet figured out the right length to fit around his neck. Corporate jargon spewed from his lips between the attempts at explaining his company’s work on space probes. Donnie could tell the quack had no clue what he was talking about.

“-And I said, that’s a particle problem! Ahaha!” The man guffawed. Donnie’s waning patience caused his eye to twitch. He hadn’t even been listening to what he was on about, attributing it to the dude’s incredibly disproportionate ego and belief in his own academic superiority. He wanted to correct Mr. Self-important shmuck. Instead Donnie offered a sarcastic curl of his lip and went right back to looking around the room. Despite the dim atmospheric lighting his eyes caught onto a glimmer in the crowd; Donnie’s whole world slowed. Relief inundated his body. You were wandering around the opposite end of the room, an almost empty glass of something peachy pink in your hand and an absentminded smile on your lips as you passed the guests. You were doing a good job of keeping it together with the amount of people roaming about the venue and the drink you had was to ease the tension. Melting ice clinked against the glass in your hand. It swirled around as you moved. Donnie’s eyes were then drawn to your dress. You had a short dress on tonight. Your skin glistened a kind of bronzed colour in the lighting set off perfectly by the cerulean hue of your dress; it sparkled with each tiny little movement you made, throwing circular reflections on your skin from the tiny sequins. The manganese blue and pale azure sparkles catching the lighting glued Donnie’s gaze to you like a magnet. Your sleeve slipped off your shoulder, and in your movements Donnie caught the back- or rather- lack of a back your dress had. A thin strip of the material went over where the back of your bra would usually show, extra lines of glimmering pale gold connected it to the dress; it reminded Donnie of drop line cake icing. Fuck, was he salivating? The purple turtle swallowed. The detailing rested against your bare back and slid with your movements. Your heels sparkled the same light gold colour, casting white glints in the darker corners of the room. Donnie was hooked onto your presence, feeling reassured at the sight of you and cursing himself a thousand times for not trying to find you sooner. He reluctantly looked back to Mr. Receding hairline.

“Sorry, excuse me, but- I need to go.” Donnie hurriedly pushed past the guy. He payed no attention to the sputtering sound the self-appointed scientist was making, focusing all of his efforts on making his way through the crowed to you. You, who was shifting past a couple in order to slip into the next room and out of sight. You left your empty glass on a side table. Donnie hurried his footsteps. He narrowly avoided a waiter. All that was on his mind was getting to you.

You slid into the next room. Immediately the volume of the music increased. People milled around with one another. You looked up to see a thousand tiny lights illuminating the ceiling. They mimicked stars and you stared in wonder at them. How had the venue even achieved that effect? Some of the lights looked like they were hovering close to the ceiling and when you squinted you could just barely make out thin transparent wires connecting the floating dots of light to the ceiling fixtures. Optical fibres? Whatever they were, they sparkled from the high ceiling like suspended fireflies. You took slow steps, eyes fixed on the general splendour. Unbeknownst to you, Donnie was a few feet behind, trailing after you. He pushed past a couple more people, apologising hastily as he tried to get closer. You paused to check your phone and Donnie took the opportunity to catch up.

“Y/n!”

“Donnie! Hi. Where have you been?” You immediately shuffled closer to the tall turtle with relief plastered over your features. Donnie matched your movements, reciprocally drawing in close. He dropped his head so he could speak to you better over the sound of the music. The two of you formed your own little bubble. You looked up at him. His appearance was taken in very quickly and you wondered if his brothers had forced him to abandon the heavy tech gear and cargos he was partial to.

“I was talking to- never mind. You um-” Donnie raked his eyes over you again. You seemed to glow in the dim lighting and he suddenly found himself unable to say anything about your appearance. He rerouted.

“When did you get here?”

“I think 30 minutes ago? I lost April somewhere and I just ended up exploring. This place is so pretty! It’s a lot of people though, I’m glad I found you. Or you found me? Whichever. I’m just glad you’re here.” You were always glad to see him. You sounded nervous, clearly more put off by the crowd than you wanted to let on; your composure was sporadic. Donnie moved closer. 

“I lost Leo by the bar.” Donnie looked up at the lighting, before pulling his gaze back to you. “I like the place, but it’s pretentious. Vern really knows ‘the right people’, huh.”

You smiled. “I’m working on a plan to steal the cutlery. I bet you if I sold one fork I could pay my rent three times over.”

Donnie chuckled. “We could test it out. Distraction theft could work. I’ll go ask where to find the bathroom and you can shove some spoons in your purse?” You laughed, free hand coming up to cover your stupid grin; Donnie’s eyes crinkled at the corners when you laughed. You moved closer to Donnie to avoid the group trying to pass by, still giggling. Donnie’s hand hovered by your lower back; he’d been about to touch it to keep you out of the path of the guests but had stopped himself before he could. His fingers brushed the little sequins of your dress. Pretty. So pretty. You felt his body heat close and looked down with an affectation of decorum as the guests passed. Donnie gestured to the bar where the crowd was sparser. You nodded. He kept close as you both navigated to the shiny black counter, and you squinted at the various amber bottled lined up against the backbar. Your smile had momentarily slipped, and you put it back on, continuing to speak. “I don’t think your diversion tactics would work, Don. You’d just make it super obvious, no offence.”

“Offence taken; how would I make it obvious?”

“Act it out real quick?”

“Okay…” Donnie tried to get into character. He turned his head away and then turned back when he was confident he wouldn’t laugh. “Excuse me, do you know where the bathrooms are? I’m lost.”

You burst into peals of laughter. Donnie looked at you with a very confused expression. “What? That was good, right? Screw you, I know that was good.” He tried to quell his amusement but failed miserably and his lips morphed into a smile.

You snickered, “You sounded like a kid. We’d get caught in 5 minutes, tops.”

“Well when you put it like that it sounds ridiculous.”

Your eyes were drawn to the bar once more and as you skimmed the menu a single word stood out. On the small chalkboard sign with drink prices and names written in various colours of chalk, the word ‘milkshake’ stuck out like a sore thumb. You perked up.

“Donnie, look!”

The tall turtle turned his head away from your face to cast his gaze on what had stolen your attention away. You drummed your fingers on the bartop in excitement.

“They’ve got milkshakes! We have to get one. Strawberry, right? I’ll get us one. Stay here. Don’t move. Where’d that guy go…”

Donnie watched helplessly as you tracked down the bartender. He hadn’t even had a chance to get a word in. God, you were cute. You knew what flavours he liked, too. It wasn’t revolutionary, you remembered little things like that, but at times like these it made Donnie feel like he mattered to you so much more than he did. Quit it. She’s just being considerate, Donnie, it’s not a fucking proposal. You returned after a couple minutes with a retro style milkshake in your hands. Whipped cream. Cherry on top. Scoop of ice cream. The works. You had a massive smile on your face and Donnie could practically see the cold pink glass reflected in your pupils. He must’ve been making a stupid face because you awkwardly smiled.

“It was way more expensive than I thought it’d be, so I could only get one. I got us two straws though. You don’t mind, right?” You batted your lashes at him unconsciously, holding up the two straws as evidence. He couldn’t protest.

“Yeah, that’s um- fine.” He swallowed and took the straw you handed him. You took the first sip, squealing immediately as the fruity taste hit your tongue. You garbled something about it tasting good and took another long sip, lips pursed with the effort of trying to swallow down half the glass in one go. Donnie laughed, inserting his own straw and taking a sip once you’d moved back. “Mmh. The flavouring isn’t artificial, it’s actually,” he paused to take another sip, “really good.” You beamed at him in agreement. You alternated leaning in to take sips from your respective straws, talking about how the place sustained the flowers on long nights like these, the logistics of wheeling in the massive marble slabs that made up the bar counters in each room and how Donnie was doing with his robotics project. He was focused on creating a mini mechanic that could build, fix and maintain his other projects. He got so lost in his excited rambling that he forgot to keep his distance. His legs were intertwined with yours while you faced one another on the barstools. His hand brushed against your own where he set it down on the counter between his gesticulating. His sentences were punctuated with ‘omigosh’s and before he knew it his throat was getting dry, and he leaned down to take a sip of the pink shake at the same time you did. Your faces were impossibly close. Shit. He faltered and almost choked, his heart stuttered and certainly not because of the amount of sugar he was consuming. You scrunched your nose, pulling away from your straw to giggle. Donnie coughed once.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” Wow. Great going, Donnie. Now you’ve just weirded her out.

You laughed, though he could tell from the way you looked down and focused hard on wiping the cream off your lip that you had been taken off guard by how close your faces had got. Were you uncomfortable? He fixed his gaze anxiously on you, trying hard to ascertain your feelings, but he couldn’t figure you out; the face you’d made was confusing and all he could conclude was you disliked being so close to him. He went to detangle his legs from yours, keeping his head down. You sighed.

“Y/n!” April’s voice cut through the crowd. She clacked over in her heels, holding two glasses of some gold bubbly liquid. She was smiling. Donnie was thankful for her merciful interruption.

“Donnie, you’re here too.” She took a second to glance between the two of you and quickly hit you a raised eyebrow that Donnie missed. The atmosphere in your little corner was as tense as a stretched spring. Full of potential energy. You raised a brow right back at her and the glasses she was holding. She was too tipsy to press further and smiled. “You’re coming with me, ‘kay? Donnie doesn’t mind, right buddy?” Donnie wanted to protest. He wanted to shake his head or grab onto you and keep you there next to him, but that was childish, and he was above that. You went to stand, throwing Donnie an apologetic look. “I’ll be right back.”

April tugged on your arm and squeezed it. She’d clearly had one too many drinks. You looked reluctant to leave Donnie like this, the unresolved air between the two of you lingered and wrapped around you. He wasn’t ready to end the conversation. No matter how awkward it had been, he’d liked having you to himself. Find a reason. Any reason. Say something. Ask her for a dance later! A sense of urgency filled the tall turtle as you began to turn away and he found himself reaching out; before he could prevent it Donnie was grabbing your hand in his larger one. 

“Wait. I-”

You looked at him. He looked flustered. You took a step closer again, not removing your hand from his. The look on your face was almost hopeful, albeit confused, and Donnie couldn’t speak.

“Be uhhh- careful. Lots of people ’n stuff,” he said weakly. Any hopes you had fell, and you just gave him a gentle, understanding smile and a nod before slipping away with an impatient April into the throng. 

▹▹▹

The guy April had introduced you to 15 minutes ago was nice, even if you weren’t interested. He reminded you a little of Donnie. He was tall, had blue rimmed glasses and a shy smile that kept you from leaving. You tried to enjoy the conversation. At the very least the man had a personality and wasn’t just clinging to small talk, even if he was shy. Your mind was elsewhere. Donnie had looked like he wanted to say something earlier. What was it? The thought nagged at you incessantly and you took another sip of the soapy alcohol in your hand. It made you feel even worse, so you slowly put it down and tried to focus on the man in front of you. The mawkish remnants in your mouth made you grimace. God this was gross. Everything about this felt gross. The part of the night where everything started to feel sticky and overwhelming had arrived and having to socialise wasn’t doing you any good. You wished you were back with Donnie and the milkshake. No, you reminded yourself, none of that matters. Focus. The guy was ducking his gaze and smiling.

“I thought they’d never make a movie adaptation of booster gold, let alone on the OMAC project. I guess the whole ‘hero comes back for one more job’ trope is pretty popular!”

You forced a pleasant smile. “I wonder if they’ll leave it inconclusive or move onto the whole blue beetle thing. I feel like it’ll probably just have an uplifting tone at the end or something. Most superhero movies do these days.”

The man nodded enthusiastically in response. You fidgeted with the hem of your dress just to have something to do with your hands. Suddenly, the guy blurted, “would you want to go dance with me?”

You lifted your head, surprised. Where did that come from? “Oh! Yeah…sure, I’d be down to.” A slow smile formed on your face and you nodded your head. What was the harm in one dance? This man was sweet in a way, and you needed to take your mind off things. Your thoughts had been straying in dangerous directions; places you’d never allowed yourself to go too far down for fear of screwing things up. You needed to stop thinking about Donnie.

You felt slightly guilty for not remembering the name of the man in front of you, but you took his hand nonetheless and let yourself be guided into the crowd. The lighting was dimmer there, full of flecks of muted yellows and blues and pinks that dappled over the moving bodies. The man in front of you pulled you closer. His hands were warm. Soft. They trembled in yours and you reflexively squeezed them. He squeezed back and slipped his hands nervously to your waist.

“Is this a good time to say I can’t really dance? I just wanted to… be uh… near you.”

You chuckled in spite of yourself. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. A familiar hum melted through the speakers as a new song started up. The guy’s hand brushed your bare lower back.

I don’t wanna be alone tonight

Your eyes widened slightly. A soft bitterness sparked in your stomach and you exhaled. Just your luck. Even the music refused to help you forget. You shut your eyes and focused on the bittersweet feeling of having someone close.

It’s pretty clear that I’m not over you… I’m still thinkin’ bout the things you do

You let the man swivel you around. The steady rhythm filled you up and you lost yourself to the atmosphere.

▹▹▹

Donnie felt nauseous. He’d finished off the milkshake alone. Your straw leaned idly against the edge of the cold glass, abandoned and making the scene even more depressing. He checked his watch again. 17 minutes. You’d disappeared with April 17 minutes ago. You had said you’d be ‘right back.’ How long did ‘right back’ constitute? Certainly not this long. He didn’t want to intrude on whatever you had going on, but there was something propelling him out of his seat. He was being selfish again, the cold stab of possessiveness branching through his veins and pushing him to find you; he couldn’t stand sitting there by himself. People had started to stare; he was used to the staring, being 6’8” and a mutant turtle, but their piercing eyes seemed to be drawn to the fact that he was alone and didn’t look like he’d be joined by anyone any time soon. He needed to find you. His heavy footsteps through the crowd became more hurried with each step. There was the sinking feeling that he was too late, that he should’ve said something earlier instead of chickening out and leaving his needs and desires unspoken. He cursed himself. Thud.

“Donnie? Ay, ay, what’s got you haulin’ ass?”

“Raph- Hey, I have somewhere to be, I’ll talk later- later.”

Raph’s brow furrowed as Donnie shoved past. The purple turtle had distraction all over his face and Raph wasn’t used to seeing his brother so frenetic other than when his work got serious and he locked himself in his lab for days.

“…Huh.”

Please be there, please be there, please be there. Donnie slid into the crowd of moving bodies. Music filled his ears. His eyes latched onto you in seconds; they instinctively searched for you in every room and every crowd. His eyes adjusted to the lighting and he stepped out of the way of an exiting trio. He was about to make his way over, disregarding the fact that this was a dance floor and he was butting in when he had no intentions as of right now to dance, when he noticed the man in front of you. Donnie’s whole world went cold.

Look what you made me do, I’m with somebody new, ooh, baby, baby I’m dancin’ with a stranger.

You had a small smile on your face as the brown-haired man in front of twirled you around and moved his hands over your waist. Your shoulders moved to the music and your hips circled. Donnie’s hand flexed. His mouth felt dry and his gut felt empty. It felt like someone was squeezing the muscles of his throat until his windpipe collapsed and he lost the ability to breathe. He assessed your body language in vain and found only politeness in it. You were clearly fine with dancing. But you remained poised. Donnie clung to the knowledge that you never acted so formal around him, but the dull throbbing in his heart began to overtake any bitterness he was feeling. 

Dancing with a stranger.

You dropped your gaze from the guy to look down at his hands on your waist. The sight felt wrong. Flecks of diffused orange light caressed your skin and sparkled off your dress. The melody cascaded over your bodies, flowing through your shoulders and moving you in tandem with the man before you, and yet it felt unnatural as anything. You found yourself wishing for a minute it was Donnie in front of you with his hands on your waist, tridactyl fingers caressing your back and head tipped down to focus all his attention on you; god did you almost feel like you could be dancing with him every time you shut your eyes. The man smiled down at you. You tried convincing yourself you could be okay with this; dancing with this man you knew little about, forgetting Donnie and replacing his image in your head with thin blue rimmed glasses and messy brown hair. The guy leaned down to put his face close to yours and you kept your head down, feigning shyness in lieu of giving away your distaste. Donnie looked away. He left the room silently, foregoing plodding back to the little bar the two of you had been sitting at, blindly pushing past a blur of faces until he found a secluded balcony. He had no one to blame for the melancholy he was feeling but himself.

It had taken you another eight minutes to wrench yourself out of conversation and away from the dance floor. You downed one of the shots lets on a half full tray, wincing at the nasty taste and using it to tear your mind away from everything. A warm burning sensation courtesy of the alcohol did nothing to remove the stubborn lump in your throat. You really should’ve just stayed with Donnie. The longer that man kept you there the more grossed out you’d felt, and the persistence that seemed to have taken him over after dancing with you threw you off completely. He really had wanted to be ‘close’ to you. You felt your head spin. Thud.

“Seriously, is everyone gonna keep bumping into me, or- y/n.”

“Raph.” You cleared your throat. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, it’s whatever. I guess I gotta keep out the doorways, huh. You seen Mikey?”

“No. He might still be downstairs. Did you…” “Donnie?” You nodded. “I saw him walkin’ through here earlier, but ain’t seen him since.” You sighed.

“Thanks.”

Raph eyed you. You had the same sort of look on your face that Donnie had earlier, and he didn’t like the wateriness in your eyes. He’d never seen you seriously cry; you were tough and he knew it. Crying wasn’t your forte, sure you’d let slip a tear or two on group movie nights down in the lair, but this looked different. Were you drunk? Seeing what looked akin to intoxication set him on edge. “You aight?”

“Mhm. A-okay.” Raph noted you looked like you were looking through him rather than at him. He sighed and patted your shoulder.

“You should get some water ’n get home soon. Ain’t lookin’ too hot.”

You offered him a small nod, before slipping further into the crowd. Raph was left to wonder what exactly was up with you and Donnie. He needed a drink.

The cool respite of the open balcony called to you. No one lingered around it, all of the guests and officials mingled among one another in the larger rooms of the building. The breeze curled through the wispy pale blue curtains and beckoned you close. You didn’t notice the tall figure leaning against the metal balcony railing until you got closer. The familiar sight of the turtle you were looking for met you. His eyes were red, though you couldn’t notice through the dark filter the night overlayed and your own distraction. His eyes flickered over to you. They widened. He didn’t know whether to act normal or not. He didn’t feel normal. No, he felt petty and heartbroken and stupid. Again he had to remind himself he was making a mountain out of a molehill. You were free to dance with whoever you liked. It wasn’t like he’d had the courage to ask you, anyway. ‘What’s Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, that he should weep for her?’ Even Shakespeare couldn’t save you now, Donnie. Thankfully his thoughts were shut down by you speaking first.

“Donnie! There you are. I’m sorry I left you for so long. April wanted to show me a painting and then introduced me to some friends and I couldn’t leave.” You took some steps closer, leaning on the rail beside him. You blinked. The lump in your throat had somehow only grown bigger with Donnie there next to you.

“It’s fine, I promise. Did you have fun?” Somehow, his question made the nausea you felt worse. You tried to nod, but couldn’t. A tear spilled over when you blinked and you hurriedly thumbed it away. Donnie’s eyes widened. Guilt flushed through him, and he felt even more of an idiot for letting the tone of bitterness slip through his question when you clearly weren’t feeling well. Eyes red. Unfocused. Wobbled when she came over; there’s an 80% variable that there’s a 73% chance that it’s the shoes, but she did have a drink earlier and April probably pawned off that other drink she had. Be sensitive.

He fumbled. “Hey, what- happened? Are-are you hurt?” He gave you a once-over and you shook your head quickly. Your voice sounded small. “No, ‘m fine. I’m okay.” You fanned your face with a hand and blew out cold air. “I think I wanna go home.” Donnie nodded.

“I get it. I can drop you off, if you need me to. I feel like I’ve been here long enough.”

You swallowed.

“No, it’s okay. Leo would be pissed at you.” Your heart thumped dismally in your chest. Donnie stared. Out here in the cold night air it felt as though the two of you were in a different world. Your eyelids fluttered and the soft breeze stroked your face with its chilly hand. A respite. You turned to face Donnie. He was already looking at you. His glasses magnified his eyes a little and made it that much more noticeable when he blinked. It was endearing. He still looked worried, keeping a watchful gaze on you as though searching for any more imminent tears; he didn’t know how to handle tears, let alone yours. Rather, he didn’t know how to handle your tears without revealing his feelings. Everything in him yelled to pull you into a hug, or hold your hand, or anything that would take that dejected look off your face and show you how you could rely on him. It was foolish. He was already in a state of his own. Neither of you spoke a word, coexisting in the serene silence with your eyes on each other.

▹▹▹

Thirteen goddamn missions. How many more would you have to go through ‘till Karai was behind bars? They spanned over a month. Your university had upped your workload in the same month, and the stress you were under was immense. Leo had oh-so graciously allowed you to miss the other 5 missions they’d planned out when your deadlines came up and you couldn’t spare any time to run around the city. He was being lenient. Real lenient. You groaned into your mattress. Your body ached from the nights of running and hiding and infiltrating and scouting and decoy-ing. You were so sick of it. Ugly washed out bruises littered your knees and shins from who knew when; your body was tense and you could barely set one foot in your lectures without falling asleep. One of your lovely acquaintances had taken to silently taking your notes for you and sending them over after the lecture. Guilt rested on your shoulders. The fact that you felt more for Donnie than you wanted to admit had started to chew slowly at you, ever since the night of the party there had been a looming sense of loss in your heart. Entertaining the idea of someone else had only aggressively confirmed you couldn’t stand thinking of anyone in that way but your purple turtle. Your feelings stuck fast, insurmountable and unforgettable. There was no way to push them aside and move on the way you were so proud of being able to do with everything else. Fuck love. You were tired.

“Yo. Fellas, let’s go, let’s go.” Leo marched through the lair, banging his katanas together and sending resounding crashes bouncing off the walls of the lair. Raph reluctantly peeled himself from the couch where he’d been trying to catch some shut eye. Mikey jerked awake, falling off the tipped-back chair he’d fallen asleep at; the bag of peanuts on his lap fell to the floor along with the comic book he’d left open over his eyes. Leo had become progressively more uptight with the pressure he was under these days. Raph shot Leo an irritated look and adjusted his mask, retying it so it would be secure and suppressing a snort at Mikey’s fumbling. Donnie winced at the racket his older brother was making. He yawned and lifted his head off his desk. Drool formed a pool on his schematics. He patted around for his glasses. Ugh. What time is it? Donnie brushed stray wrappers off his desk and finally grabbed his thick framed glasses, thumbing to press down the lifted corner flap of tape that bound the bridge of his glasses together.

Getting out of the lair and across the city was a blur. Donnie did some tricks across the rooftops to wake himself up when they got out of the truck. His sleep schedule was thoroughly fucked. He hadn’t slept much at all since the night of the party; his mind was clouded with images of you in the arms of someone else, someone better, someone normal, someone human. It was ridiculous. He wasn’t the most insecure, but with time it had crept in and wormed itself into muscle and tissue like some kind of parasite and refused to leave. You acted the same way with him as always. It was just him. He was sucked back into feeling stupid for all the one-sided emotions constantly flowing through his mind; you were less than aware of the turmoil he was going through and one look at your sweet face every time he saw you only increased his resolve not to slip a peep on his state. Donnie focused on the missions, refining the tech for his robots, and helping you with your work. He threw himself into it with the abandon of a man with nothing to lose. Except, he was losing both sleep and his sanity. And probably his body’s ability to process caffeine.

“Mikey, throw me the rope.”

“Gotchu, brah. Go long!”

Leo jumped up to catch the coil of rope before it could go over the side of the building, shooting Mikey a look that the orange slider very blatantly ignored.

Donnie squinted at his watch. No messages from you. He knew you’d be there tonight; this was one of the missions you couldn’t miss. The amount of grief his older brother had given you for missing the one before was no doubt a factor in your acceptance this time. Donnie swiped at the pale blue hologram to open up the text thread from the previous night.

Yesterday, 21:58

Don🔬: Good job tonight. I can check your citations tomorrow but be proud of the work you’ve done!

Donnie cringed when he reread the message. Wasn’t that too impersonal? He sounded like an old man.

You: You’re a lifesaver Don, but I don’t wanna overwork you

You: Get some sleep big guy

Don🔬: Will do, see you tomorrow

Today, 23:20

Don🔬: We’re on top of the TCRI building, no sign of the foot yet

The purple turtle stared long and hard at the embarrassingly short text thread. He had a strong urge to delete the latest message, but that would be even more embarrassing than the text itself. You were in on this one. There had been absolutely no reason to text you, and yet he had. It wasn’t like you’d be actively checking your phone. You knew the plan. Baxter Stockman was back and working for the foot clan. TCRI and its projects had been handed off to the authority of another qualified scientist when Baxter Stockman had supposedly gone ‘missing’ after Shredder’s own disappearance. However, if Baxter was back, he’d need to get hold of his research. The best way to go about it was break back into his old workplace and steal anything he deemed a requirement for their new plan of action. Krang was still a threat, especially if the fool managed to take back his research and create a new portal opening out of spite. That’s what the foot clan were. Spiteful. Donnie ran a hand over his face and clicked off the hologram. His frustration curdled back into the ugly dredges of doubt and all he could do to keep his mind busy and focused on something other than how much he desperately wanted your attention was run through the mission plan again.

You were in the building. The unrestricted floor clearance tag you’d been given by the company for tonight was clutched in your hand and you thumbed the corner of the laminated card as you walked. You wondered if they’d let you keep it, or if you could get away with slipping it to Donnie by the end of the night. If the tech-savvy turtle really wanted to he could bypass any and all security measures, but you still wanted the satisfaction of being able to give him something useful. You inwardly groaned. Here you were, wandering the halls with one of the higher up scientists, waiting for the foot clan to burst through the doors at any second and you were busy thinking about Donnie. That seemed to be a common theme on these missions. You frowned and recited the plan. You were the boys’ eyes on the inside for tonight; the NYPD was only involved to the extent they could be without making it obvious to the foot that they were prepared for any infiltration, and had arranged for your placement in the building as a human alert button. You also suspected they wanted some extra information on what exactly TCRI were up to these days. You could do that. The people who worked late in the building were only aware that you were there to ‘help evacuate’ and needed complete clearance to be able to do so, not that you had a personal agenda to snoop.

“And this here is our modelling department. They work on theoretical models of the collider you saw at sub level 3, the basic functions of potential alternate dimensions, and scaling of our other general projects. We don’t have many people working late in here, apart from-”

“Sir!”

The older man next to you who’d been touring you around the facility sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose in a way that reminded you of the habit Leo and Splinter had. You smiled. The guy who waved was fresh faced and energetic, you could tell he was probably new from the way he looked so enthusiastic so late at night. The older man next to you gestured with raised brows. “As I was saying, apart from Mr. Walker there, no one else works late in this department.” You tried not to laugh. That made your job easier. If there weren’t many people on these floors, you wouldn’t have to worry about casualties…

▹▹▹

Donnie dropped down to crouch to the cold floor of the laboratory as the foot soldier swung an electrically charged pole at him. He grunted and swivelled so he knocked the soldier’s legs out, and as the foot member scrambled for purchase they sent a tray of beakers and pipettes crashing to the floor and leaking orange and blue liquid out onto the surface. “Look what you’ve done now! Contamination is a serious- issue-” Donnie felt a sharp prick in his calf and instinctively went to rip the cables off before he got electrocuted. The sound of his brothers fighting around him filled his ears. The alarm system blared over the sound of the chaos and Donnie heard the sound of a glass door breaking. He looked over to see Raph smashing through the hail of glass shards. Bullets sprayed and Donnie ducked down behind a metal desk, cursing under his breath at the absurdity of the mission.

“Donnie!” Leo yelled over the gunfire, “Where’s Stockman?”

Donnie stammered as he got back up and kicked a gun out of a man’s hands. “He uh- he should be held up two floors down. You guys gotta hurry up.”

“I’m workin’ on it.”

“Bogey on your 6,” Donnie ran up and thwacked the foot member who emerged out of nowhere with his bo. Leo clapped his brother on the shoulder.

“Good looking out, Donnie. Mikey, Raph, on me.”

You were lost, trapped in a maze of identical rooms that all connected to one another, full of sleek, shiny tech that you weren’t acquainted with. 2 foot clan initiates circled you like sharks. They had chased you through the laboratories; the unconscious body of the cheery Mr. Walker had been in one of the rooms you ran through. Naive. You had been so goddamn naive. You grit your teeth in irritation at the foot soldiers who stood ready to disarm you. Baxter Stockman jogged past the door. Your eyes widened. No wonder they’d wanted to corner you! This was all to clear an unobstructed path. You disregarded the soldiers and made a run for the exit; no way could you let that bumbling idiot reach the instruments and research he needed to recreate the Krang invasion, not now. A foot soldier kicked your knee in the second you tried for the exit and you groaned. Fuck, that hurt. You feigned being winded, doubled over in a show of pain greater than what you actually felt. According to Donnie’s scan of their gear, foot soldiers had concealed knives. Righttt there! You grabbed the handle sticking out by the initiate’s ankle, lifting and pulling it up out of its sheath; you stuck it in the back of the man’s knee and turned around to disable the other one before they had the opportunity to electrocute you. They collapsed at the exact moment a bang and hiss rang in your eardrums. Your blade clattered to the floor. White clouds of steam burst through the room’s vents. The clear sliding doors slammed shut and you coughed, panicked, whipping around to search for the culprit. A blur of black and red was barely visible through the smoke clouding through the room, the boiling steam suffocated you and you felt your clothes dampen and the familiar feeling of nausea. That wasn’t just water through those pipe vents. Karai’s voice rang singsong through the sealed doors.

“Poor thing. You can’t escape. Perhaps, if you had been more useful we could’ve spared you. Your apartment gave us all the information we needed.”

You gasped, avoiding the burning steam and picking up one of the tools atop the desk in a vain attempt to crack the glass. It was no use. You were going to pass out before you could crack it. Karai receded and disappeared after Stockman and you cursed, kicking the door in frustration and swivelling around, searching for any alternate exit points or anything else you could use to get out. it didn’t look promising. The boiling heat made your skin blotchy with condensation. You went for your comms.

“Leo? Donnie? Karai and Baxter are in lab,” you gasped, “7. Hurry.”

Donnie looked over at Leo in alarm at the sound of your voice.

“Leo?”

“We’ll get Karai and stop Baxter. Go find her.”

Donnie split off and his brothers ran to the lab you identified while Donnie booked it to where you had last been.

You were kneeling on the floor. Any oxygen you could suck into your lungs was inhaled with desperation. You swam in a haze, surrounded by pure white and coughing at the chemical taste filling your mouth and swamping your other senses. You folded over on your knees, pressing your cheek to the floor and wheezing. You wanted Donnie. You were terrified that these would be your last moments. Suffocation was one of the worst ways to go. You. Wanted. Donnie. You never got to ask him to go for a drive with you. You never got to tell him you regretted not staying with him at that stupid party. God that had been such a waste of your time. You choked at the sudden lump in your throat. You never got to tell him you love him. Tears pricked your eyes and you shuddered, clawing at the ground to attempt to push yourself back up and to those sealed doors.

Donnie entered the lab area, eyes wide and panting. White steam clouded the glass panels and he could only make out the silhouette of a downed foot soldier behind the glass.

“Shit! Doors, doors, doors… c’mon Donnie… no pressure, no pressure, it’s not like she could be dead in there.”

He frantically looked for the override to the sealed-off section of the laboratory. “Fuck!” Donnie swore loudly, punching in the buttons on the designated control panel hard and getting more and more urgent when it refused to work. He held his staff to the panel and with a ‘bzzt’ the wires shorted and the doors opened. Steam emerged in swathes. Donnie held his breath, squinting through the burning hot clouds and falling to his knees next to your small figure on the floor.

“Hey, y/n? Can you hear me? God, please be okay. Come here, I got you. I’ve got you sweetheart. Oh my god, oh my god, I’ll never let you go again.”

Donnie mumbled words that probably soothed him more than it did you. He cradled you in his big arms, exiting the contaminated area and finding a safe spot to crouch down.

You thought you were dreaming. Cool, clean, crisp air flooded your lungs and you gasped at the feeling of Donnie’s hands checking your pulse through your temple. The sound of his voice reached you through a silencer, gurgled and wobbly like you were underwater. Time moved slowly. Your ears popped and without warning every sound suddenly had sharp clarity to it; time sped up and you were thrust back into the present. Donnie’s voice brought you back. You pushed up with surprising speed and wrapped your arms around him the second you could move. “Donnie!” you cried.

He held you close, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and squeezing you so tight you thought you’d burst. “I’m here. I’m right here.” He didn’t give a shit about the wetness of your skin or the way you constricted his windpipe, all he cared about was that you were breathing. He pulled away enough to give you a once over. His hands held your shoulders. “Let me check your pupils. Can you breathe okay? A-are you experiencing any intense nausea? Does your skin feel itchy? What happened?”

You shook your head, grasping at him with a wobbly lower lip. He shut himself up and pulled you back in.

“Don’t go anywhere, please. Please, Don.” You whispered into his neck, feeling hot tears roll down your face. Donnie leaned back against the wall, resting your wet, exhausted form against his plastron and pressing his face to the top of your head with a great, shuddering sigh. His adrenaline ebbed away incrementally and he rubbed your back.

“I won’t,” he whispered back, “I promise.”

Even now, as he held you and you matched your breaths to his, he couldn’t get out the words he so desperately wanted to say. I’ll keep you safe. I was so worried. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you. I love you.

Mikey had been the one to detain Stockman, and the guy was tied up and being subjected to Mikey flicking his face; the orange turtle was having boatloads of fun prodding at the scientist and making a mockery of him. Leo had finally caught Karai. The leader in blue gave her a serious but very subtly smug look. He was triumphant. Karai bowed her head in defeat. Raph was just relieved they’d managed to catch Karai. He couldn’t have dealt with any more of Leo’s griping. He sat on the edge of a table as the police department were radioed and a chopper arrived at the TCRI building.

Donnie refused to put you down. Maybe it was because you looked pitiful trying to walk. Your head lolled into his chest, you sniffled every few seconds and coughed when your windpipe refused to cooperate. If you had been in a more coherent state, you might’ve noticed just how easy it was for the tall turtle to carry you. How his arms flexed when he hoisted you up and the way he removed one arm for just a minute to wipe your face. He was so strong. It was easy to forget just how strong he was. Donnie let Leo drive the truck on the way back to the lair. He sat in the back with you leaning on his shoulder, arm around his thick bicep as you slipped in and out of sleep.

“Are we going home?” You murmured into Donnie’s arm with your eyes closed, and the purple turtle rested his big, three-fingered hand on top of yours.

“We’re going back to the lair. I need to check your condition and run a couple tests, but we could stop by yours. Did you need something from your apartment?”

You opened your eyes at his words, recalling your interaction earlier. “I can’t go back there, Karai said- she said- I think they broke in. Maybe. I don’t know when.”

Donnie’s face contorted into one of worry and he absentmindedly rubbed his thumb over the back of yours. “If that’s true it might not be safe for you to go back there. That might be how they avoided getting caught in the first place…” Donnie’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. “I’ll call April and ask her if you can stay at hers, but for now you’re staying with us. Is that okay?”

You nodded and shut your eyes again. You leaned against his shoulder and sighed, burying deeper into his side when the truck bumped over a pothole. Donnie picked at the hair tie on your wrist. He looked at you, then at the way you had your arm hooked under his and then back down to the hair tie. He slid a finger under it, shimmying his index along your inner wrist until he could fit his second finger in. The hair band slid until it bound Donnie’s wrist to yours, and the slider intertwined your fingers and squeezed your hand. He hoped it would say what he couldn’t. He wanted to be stuck to you.

▹▹▹

“We’re doing this again, huh.” You groaned as you sat on the sink counter and let Donnie peel off the damp clothes that stuck to your skin. He’d taken a look at you and concluded you’d be fine after you hacked out the toxic substances, drank a load of water, consumed a wide assortment of medicine and got a hell of a lot of sleep. He tried not to smile down at you.

“You know the probability of this happening this many times should be really low. You’re an outlier,” he teased as he rolled off your shirt. You hummed tiredly when you put your arms back down.

“Maybe.” You got distracted by the soft purple of Donnie’s bandana ties resting on his plastron and reached up to rub the material between your thumb and forefinger. Donnie had his head down, watching you. “Donnie?”

He blinked. “Yeah?”

You looked up at him. His eyes widened a little and flickered off to the floor, to the wall; anywhere that wasn’t your face, but his gaze kept coming back to you. You opened your mouth. You closed it. Then you shook your head. “Thank you for being there.”

Donnie just looked at your small smile and took in a short breath as if to speak, to acknowledge the atmosphere in the little bathroom between you. He resorted to patting your elbow.

“Always.” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “O-kay, shower time. I’m waiting right outside so yell if you need anything. And I mean anything, don’t ignore dizziness or blurry vision or any other symptoms. You wouldn’t believe the number of annual deaths from people falling over in the shower, it’s nuts.”

Your shower was long and miserable. You stumbled out halfway to purge the chemicals from your body into the toilet bowl and lay flat on the floor with your legs kicked up on the wall, wet and shuddering as you felt your circulation return to your head and the spasming of your facial muscles finally cease. Getting back in the shower had almost been worse. You finally emerged, woozy from the heat. The old shirt you wore as you sat on Donnie’s bed after your shower smelled like tea. Your skin was hot. The phantom feeling of Donnie’s hand in yours lingered; the purple turtle was bustling around the lair to collect a cold glass of water, some hard candy for you to suck on to get rid of the nasty taste in your mouth, and the rickety fan Mikey had commandeered and left next to the couch. At long last Donnie collapsed onto the bed next to where you sat, face smushed to his bedding with his glasses lopsided. You stared at the way his arms gathered one of his pillows to his face and how he exhaled hot air; the lenses of his glasses fogged up. You swallowed. Did he need to be this hot? Donnie pushed himself back up enough to look at you through his cloudy glasses and nervously licked his lips.

“You don’t mind if I’m here, do you? I can move if you want the bed to yourself… Actually, I think I’ll move, I- I don’t wanna crowd you.” Donnie’s voice petered off when you shook your head. Wordlessly, you reached out to take his glasses off and took your time folding down the temples and setting the pair aside. Donnie held his breath. You scooted down to lie flat on the mattress. The tips of your fingers brushed his forearm as you made a grabbing motion, and he lowered himself back down. Donnie’s heart was beating a mile a minute.

“Stay with me. You promised.”

Donnie had never folded faster in his life. He was just glad he was already lying down or his knees might’ve given out and he might’ve given himself away. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. His vision was blurrier without his glasses, but he reached towards you nonetheless and chastely held your hand. You squeezed his. He grounded you, you felt your muscles loosen and your mind shut off at last. “I won’t go anywhere,” He murmured. He pulled your hand closer, resting your joined hands by his face. You could feel his breaths hitting your knuckles. The two of you fell into slumber without another word, leaving the silence laden with a thousand unspoken words to tarry a little longer.

▹▹▹

You woke to the warmth of Donnie’s arms around you. Long, soft breaths skimmed your hair. It was comfortable in his arms, more comfortable than you’d been in a long time and you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You experimentally shifted your elbow. You didn’t think you could move, actually. Donnie’s grip was firm and impossible to wriggle free of. He had a thick leg between yours, his arms squished you to his plastron and he cuddled into you like he couldn’t bear to let you go. He was heavy. You groggily took the opportunity to nuzzle your face into the hollow of his neck. You wished this was what every night was like. A steady thump conducted through his chest to yours and you found yourself wondering if his heart ever sounded different, if his heartbeat had ever sped up or skipped a beat for the sake of love. This was painful; lying here next to him, held reverently in his arms and yet not knowing whether he felt the same way about you as you did him. You huffed against his neck and breathed in the scent of skin and grass and espresso and screwed your eyes shut tight in an effort to memorise this moment. A low grumble notified you that Donnie had woken up. You stayed very still, fearful he’d caught you in the act of breathing him in. A vibration ran from Donnie’s body to yours. He churred. You felt him nuzzle his face into the top of your head, no doubt still half asleep and probably assuming you were one of his pillows. You let it happen.

“…y/n?”

His voice. Lord, his voice. You nodded into his collarbone. “Mhm.”

Donnie’s muscles tensed and he gently pulled away from you, detaching his arms gingerly like he was scared you had been lying awake and uncomfortable for some time now. You tried not to let the disappointment show on your face at the sudden lightness where before his body had been flush with yours. He reached for his glasses. Donnie didn’t dare move his leg from between yours, feeling like removing it too would be more awkward than leaving it where it was. You spoke before he could. “Did I wake you?”

Donnie shook his head as he slipped his glasses on. “No.” The silence stretched until the two of you broke eye contact and simultaneously fell into quiet giggles. You reached for his hand and he held yours; the corners of his eyes crinkled as he stared in wonder at you next to him in his bed. Donnie took a deep breath and focused on the way you held his hand to glean some courage.

“I have to say,” he swallowed, “you look nice when you’re sleepy.” He blanched. “Not in a weird way. I guess I noticed when you fell asleep the time I taught you cointegration.”

“You watched me sleep?” You squeaked, eyes wide.

“No. Not exactly… Sort of.”

You let slip a tiny, surprised laugh. Donnie looked mortified. Your heart thumped louder in your chest. “I had the same thought when we were in the truck together. That time I was posted by Red hook and you came to get me. You look nice when you drive. Super- um- focused?” You sighed and thumbed the soft scaly outlines along his knuckles. “I wanted to go for a drive with you again.”

Donnie’s eyes were wide. He was struggling to breathe. You hadn’t freaked out at his weird admittance- you’d been looking at him, too. You clearly expressed you liked his face. His expression, same thing, whatever. You wanted to be alone with him. Shoot. Was he smiling? He hoped he wasn’t smiling. He probably looked a fool. Hope burst behind his ribs. The dam that had been blocking his ability to translate his thoughts to words broke, and months’ worth of confessions at last spilled out in a wave. “I wanted to ask you to dance at the party, but I chickened out at the last minute and I’ve been regretting it the past month. And I wanted to tell you, you looked beautiful.I actually went after you to tell you but then I saw you with some-” Donnie scrunched his nose and struggled “-guy and I thought maybe it was better not to say anything. Which was stupid. I was so insanely stupid. And I have been stupid.” Donnie’s eyes found yours and his gaze intensified. His voice dropped to a murmur, quiet and intimate like he was scared to let you hear it but couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I love you. I want to be with you.” Donnie’s brows were knitted together in a needy expression as his hand trembled in yours. “I want to take care of you. I don’t deserve any of your attention and I’ve been trying not to want it, I swear I have, but I can’t help it. I love you.”

Your breath hitched and you felt your head spin. That look on his face was criminal. Donnie’s heartbeat through his wrist was ten times quicker than what you’d felt while he slept. Love. You had never been great at feelings; they were volatile, confusing things and in your mind people were impossible to rely on, but Donnie was your constant. He was your certainty, and he wanted to be. Your own shaky hand gripped him tight and without another thought your lips slammed against his. Donnie melted. His other arm pulled you closer by your waist and he kissed you back. Your lips were hot and plush and he kissed you again and again and again until he’d pushed you into the pillows with his enthusiasm. His glasses were askew and foggy again. You held his face to adjust them. The two of you panted. Your eyes glimmered when you looked up at him through your lashes and Donnie felt weak. “I love you, too. I don’t understand how you,” you kissed him once, sloppily, “thought you didn’t deserve my attention. I thought- I didn’t deserve yours.”

Donnie pulled you in for another kiss, letting out a small sound as your exhales mingled and your pretty, pretty hands wrapped around his neck. You were smiling so hard you couldn’t kiss him properly. “I’m dreaming. I have to be,” he mumbled as he planted wet kisses against your cheek. “You’ve always had my attention, I’ve been all yours for years.”

You pulled him in to kiss you again. “Years?”

“Years.”

You hiked your knee up enough to try to wrap your leg around him and keep him close to you. Your lips met his, softly, sweetly, pouring out all of the feelings you’d been too incompetent to convey. Donnie’s hands caressed your waist the way he’d dreamed of. The two of you knocked noses and giggled. 

The faint sound of music filled the lair as Splinter got up to start his morning meditation and hummed some old tune, smiling as he heard the sound of his son up early and the air of peace at last in the lair.

Please don't steal my work. Reblogging for others to enjoy is highly encouraged, though🤩

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“Okay so maybe I like him still! Kinda… sorta… a bit. A lot.” I confessed. “…do you think we’re still meant for each other?”

“More than when we were teenagers,” she said sure of herself. “You guys grew up, and you still seem to work well together,”

“I think so,” I said. “I… I wanna give it more time.”

“And you should,” she affirmed. “Especially with everything going on at the moment… You really saw Shredder?” 

“Yeah,” I said. “Freaked me the fuck out too. He was supposed to be gone April. It’s why I felt safe enough to came back.”

“I know,” she sympathized. “Do you think you’ll go?”

That was the looming question: would I leave again?

“I can’t keep letting men decide what I do with my life! I’m tired of it,” I sighed. “I—I don’t want to leave. I want to be here. With you guys…”

“With a certain red clad turtle we know?” April baited. 

“Yeah,” I said sitting up. “I don’t want to have to leave again April. I don’t want to have to do anything. No one in my life should have that power but me.”  

“Damn straight,” she said getting me to smile. But it didn’t last long. I sighed. 

“It’s a mess again.” I said. “Also what the fuck is up with Leo?” I asked. “Raph told me a little bit but what the hell is that about?” 

“Yeah I have no idea.” April said. “I didn’t even know he felt that way til yesterday.”

We were quiet for a minute. I worried my lips as my thought started to spiral a bit. 

“Do you think it was a mistake to come back?” My voice was small. 

She didn’t say anything for a while. Then she spoke. 

“I don’t think it is.” She said. “It was never going to be easy,“

“Yeah,” I agreed. “But it might just be worth it.” I paused. “The guys aren’t mad at me for dipping are they?” 

Sure I had a great rest of my night with Raph but I did kinda storm out. It was a bit childish but I didn’t want to fight. 

“Not at all. Leo was way out of line. They actually wanna know if you’re okay. But I’m sure they’ll get that from Raph,” April said. “No one hates you here Y/n, we’re all here for you. Whatever you need,” 

“Thanks April,” I said. “That’s nice to hear.” 

“Anytime,” she said and I could hear her smile. “I still can’t believe you kissed him,” 

I laughed. 

……………………

I found myself walking alone. It was a common pastime for me since moving back. But I had never been here before. I knew it was here. I just hadn’t gone. Not since I came back. Not since the monument was built. 

Master Splinter, Hamato Yoshi left a lasting impact on this city. The mayor called the construction of his burial. It had a sister statue in Japan.  A quaint cemetery of heroes where the noise of the city was almost gone. 

My feet took me farther into the grave stones. And here I wasn’t alone. 

“Oh. I’m sorry,” I said, very nervous. “I’ll… come back.” I turned to leave, cringing. 

“It’s okay,” he didn’t turn to face me but he spoke. 

Leonardo Hamato was honoring his late father, knelt on the ground, head bowed in prayer. 

My heart pulled me forward and I knelt next to him, bowing my head as well. I let myself feel in that moment, privy to deep empathy. Tears well in my eyes as the grief swirled around me. Loss was a hollow feeling that weight deeply in the soul. Tears slid down my cheeks silently. 

“I’m sorry,” I choked out. I didn’t know who it was to. Leonardo. Splinter. Myself. And I didn’t know why. There was just pain that needed a release. 

Leo didn’t say anything. I didn’t need him to. We sat there for a while. My feet started to go numb the way I was sitting but I’d didn’t move. 

The breeze rustled the grass growing around us and the leaves of the trees. They sang a soft lullaby. Birds flitted from stone to stone. Tree to tree. I could make out a few of their calls. It was peaceful. A peaceful resting place. 

Leo’s head snapped up, alert. I panicked and looked around for what startled him. Before I could make heads of it, he was on his feet, his katanas out. 

Four foot soldiers dropped into the clearing from the trees. 

This had to stop happening to me.

“Aw man,” I whined scrambling up. I was wobbly on legs that had lost circulation and were stinging from pins and needles. 

“Get behind me,” Leo ordered. I wasn’t going to argue with that. But I was surprised he was still willing to protect me. I was safe between Leo and Splinter. 

And just like Raphael, Leonardo was honed in his craft. The four foot bots were sparking on the ground before they could make a move. Leo straightened and sheathed his blades. 

“Come on.” He said. “Let’s get you back,”

“I—okay,” I wasn’t going to argue. I was still reeling at the fact he actually protected me. It was… odd. In character for him until a few days ago. Then everything seemed all out of whack. But I was safe and Leonardo was the reason. 

Leo was on guard the whole way back to the lair. Always checking over his should to see if I was still there. We didn’t say a word to each other. I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. 

We walked in. Raph took note of the two of us together and immediately threw his game controller down. There must have been something in my face. 

“Woah, what happened?” He asked me, checking me over. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, glancing to Leo. “Um. Just some foot bots.”

“You used her as bait!?” Raphael accused going to square up with his brother. 

“No! No!” I said intervening, grabbing Raph’s arm. Now I was standing between the two brothers. My hands were on his forearms trying to get his attention off Leo. He noticed my touch and his gaze met mine. I tried so hard not to lose my train of thought.

“No we were… we were at Splinters memorial. I… I ran into him on accident there. He protected me. He… he didn’t know I was going to be there. I didn’t even know I was gonna be there,” I said. 

Raphael processed my words and relaxed. My hands fell from his skin. He looked over my shoulder to Leo. 

“Thank you,” he said. Leo nodded and went off to his room without another word. “You’re sure you’re okay?” Raphael asked, carefully tilting my chin back to check for any form of distress or injury. I resisted leaning into his touch. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I said. “He didn’t even hesitate to defend me,” 

“Really?” Raph sounded as surprised as I felt. His hand dropped as he glanced back at Leo’s closed door. 

“Yeah. I—“ my brows furrowed. “I dunno?” I shrugged. 

“Weird,” Raph agreed. “You… you went to the memorial?” He changed the subject. 

“Yeah,” I said, rubbing my arm. “I…I’ve never been and I had a lot on my mind and… I ended up there,” 

“You okay about that?” He asked his voice a little softer. His hand twitched like he wanted to reach out to me again but he refrained. 

I shrugged as a response. “It’s grief,” I said, knowing there wasn’t much else. 

“Yeah it is,” he agreed. “Well it’s still your day off. I know you said you wanted ‘me time’ I can take you home?” Raph offered. 

I thought about the laundry I had to do and the book I wanted to start and the cat who was missing me by the minute. 

“That’d be great,” I said with a smile. 

That electric energy was back between us. Sparked like the other night when I’d kissed him. Neither of us had said anything about it but there were so many stolen glances and questions that died on my tongue before they ever got to live. I just wanted to be so sure before I did something else. Before we moved on to anything else. I didn’t want to lose him because I did something stupid. And sure April was confident that we were made for each other but I just wasn’t sure myself. 

So when he walked me home and my hand brushed his, maybe I wanted to hold it. Desperately. But I didn’t. And maybe when we were outside my door I wanted to lean up and kiss him again. But I wouldn’t. Maybe I wanted to invite him in. But I couldn’t. 

At least I felt that way. 

And in the mess of my tangled thoughts about what should and shouldn’t be, Raph leaned down and pressed a kiss to my temple before whispering goodbye and disappearing into the streets. I stood there for maybe too long before grinning and heading inside. 

Leaning against my locked door, I rubbed my face and laughed. 

God fucking damnit. 

I was never getting him out of my head or my heart now. 

I was sure about that. 

…………………..

“Fuck! Shit!” I yelled at the tv at the game over screen mocked me. 

“You okay in here?” His timbre voice greeted me. I had invited him over fifteen minutes ago and completely forgotten. My eyes flashed over to see Raphael walk in, still mostly trained on the screen. 

“No.” I sulked. “This fucking boss battle is driving me up a wall.” I sighed and leaned back against the couch. “I’ve been at it for days.”

“Days?” Raphael was skeptical as he sat next to me on the couch like it was the most casual thing in the world (it wasn’t). “How hard can it be?”

I rose an eyebrow and offered him the controllers. He took the challenge and the game reset to the nearest save point. I told him how to get to the boss and the music began as the battle screen came on. I have him a run down of my rpg team and their strengths and the goal of the battle. 

“Come on, how hard can this guy be?” Raph scoffed, clearly overconfident. I tried to hide a smile as the battle started. 

Raphael game overed on the first attack. I was so damn smug. A grin stretched across my face. 

“Wait! Let me try again!” He said, restarting at the save point. 

I let him at it. It was a little more fun to watch him get frustrated at what had been gnawing at me for days. 

It was his fifth game over and he conceded. The controllers were back in my hands. I restarted and took a deep breath. It was days of learning attack patterns and reading Reddit threads. I could do this. 

I got to the midpoint of the battle. I was low on health and TP and healing items. I could do this. 

I could not do this. 

The game over screen flashed. I cursed and put down the controllers. 

“Fuck this,” I said closing the game completely. 

“But you got so far!” Raph said. “Come on! You definitely got this!”

“You think?” I asked. 

“Definitely. Better than I could,” 

I restarted with a new vigor.

When the game over screen hit I gently put the remotes down, seething. 

“Imma go for a walk,” I said tightly. 

Raph laughed, sympathizing with my plight. We walked outside and sat on the bench outside my apartment building, watching traffic go by. The cool night air felt nice. I leaned against him. 

“Tell me about the game,” he said. 

“What?” 

“Come on. I know you. You invest heavily in the games you play. So tell me about it,” he looked down at me with a knowing look. 

And damnit he was right. 

The next twenty (thirty) minutes was a lore dump about my little indie game who had a sister game which was another half hour of lore to explain it all. And the whole time, Raph was listening, asking questions, and reacting in a way that I felt heard. 

“So yeah….” I trailed off, a little blush on my cheeks at the fact I had just yapped for an hour about such a niche topic. But Raph was staring at me like he’d never seen anyone like me before, happy that I enjoyed something so thoroughly. 

“I wonder if Donnie knows about it,” he said. “It seems up his alley,”

“If you’re saying I should bring over my Switch and get your brother hyper fixated on it, I’m so down,” I grinned. 

“Sounds like a great Saturday night to me,” he grinned. “I’ll tell Donnie,”

That Saturday I loaded my bag with my Switch and extra charger and dock. It was gonna be a fun night.

The air was cool as I stepped out. It was a fifteen minute walk. Easy. 

Almost. 

“Tell me,” the voice came from behind me and I froze. That voice haunted my dreams. “How do you manage to find protection every time you come to this city?”

Shredder. 

My thoughts ran at a million miles a minute. There was no way I could out run him and I’d be dead before I could call for help. Maybe one of the brothers was trailing me and saw my predicament. Maybe Raph would notice I was late. I prayed it was true. I just had to buy time. 

“I’m not sure what you mean,” I said, bolder than I felt. I knew exactly what he meant but I didn’t owe him that. I turned to face him. 

Shredder wasn’t in his plated armor that hid deadly weapons. He was just in a sweatshirt with kanji script and a pair of dress slacks. It was so bizarre to see him like this. I almost preferred the armor. 

He smiled, and almost laughed. 

“You’ve always been an interesting case.” He kept going. “But now you’re just downright untouchable… and I’ve never wanted anything more.” 

“That’s creepy,” I quipped before thinking better of it. This time he laughed. 

“You sure have grown up little princess.” He taunted making my skin crawl. “For now… I can’t have you… but something has to break.” 

“What do you even want from me?” I was struggling to understand. “Dead? On your side? Friendless?” Nothing made sense to me.

“I want you to lose like I have,” 

I rolled my eyes. “Look. You’re smart enough to know why I came back or you should. Someone beat you to it.” 

“You don’t know pain,”

“Okay.” I said flatly. “Do you need anything now? Or can I go?”

“You won’t always be protected.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t you ever get tired of this?” I said exasperated. “It’s been ten years dude. Ten years. And we’re still on the vague threats and revenge? Don’t you—I don’t know… wanna be happy? Free from anger and grudges? Learn to forgive yourself?” I shrugged. “Look. Splinter’s dead. I’m pretty sure Leo hates me for it. Wasn’t that enough? What is enough?” 

“I want people to suffer like I have,”

“That’s kinda shitty dude. You got a second chance and you’re gonna do the same thing that got you killed the first time?” I scoffed. 

He had nothing to say. I started to walk away. 

“I’ll find you!”

“You already did!” I shouted back and pulled out my phone to call Raphael. I was confident that Shredder wasn’t going to strike me down for it. All those years fearing him and without the army and the power he was just… whining. It was a little pathetic. 

The call went through. Anxiety clawed up my throat, knowing I was unprotected and Shredder was out of my line of sight. Internal and external factors kicked it into overdrive. Raph answered. 

“Hey, what’s up?” His tone was casual. “Are you on your way?” 

“I—just ran into Shredder,” I choked out. “Can you—can—“ whatever bravado I had was long gone. 

“I’m coming.” His voice was hard and sure. “What happened!?”

“I… I just—“ my mind was still reeling. I couldn’t get the words out.

“Two minutes from you, just hang on,” he said. 

He found me on a little side street away from it all. 

“Kid?” He called for me. 

My eyes flashed up, grateful he was there. Tears welled in my eyes. 

“Where’s Shredder?” He asked, his eyes darting all around. 

“Gone. I think.” I said. “I…”

“You’re alone?”

I nodded. It was an easy walk to the lair from home. It was supposed to be easy anyway.  

“You’re walking here alone!? Y/n!” He reprimanded. “What were you thinking!? Why didn’t you call me!?” Oh he was livid. So beyond it. And at me. And for what? I didn’t need anyone’s permission. Certainly not from him. 

“Because I’m a fucking adult!” I shouted back. I was angry too. I didn’t need a fucking baby sitter. “You invited me over!” 

“You have Shredder looking for you! And he found you Y/n!” His voice pitched up. “That was so incredibly stupid! Why didn’t you call!?”

I gaped at him. “Excuse me!?” I said, offended. 

“It was stupid,” he said not backing down. “You have to be more careful!”

“I don’t have to do anything!” I said defiantly. “It’s my fucking life Raph and not you or anyone else can tell me what to fucking do! I’m not a fucking child to be scolded!” I said, my face falling into despondency. Tears stung my eyes as I blinked them away. We stared each other down. My face was screwed into a defiant look, tears falling here and there. 

Raph opened his mouth to say something but paused. His face fell as his lips pressed into a hard line. His resolve broke. 

“Yeah, no, you’re right,” he sighed, rubbing his face. “I just—I—“ he inhaled sharply. “I… I hate seeing you in danger… for something that’s my fault. And… I want you safe Y/n. I always have. I’m sorry,” he said. There was a deep regret and longing in his eyes. My mood softened a little at his confession. 

“I know,” I said. “But yelling at me about it isn’t what I want. I live in New York City Red. Shredder or not it’s not the safest place. And that’s a risk I’ve decided to live with,” I said, my voice shaky. “I can’t have you freaking out every time I step foot outside. I don’t want that. And if… if it’s going to be too hard for you then maybe…” I dug my teeth into my lip to stop the words that would shatter this whole thing. 

His eyes flickered to mine, his brow deeply drawn. 

“No, no you—you don’t have to go. I didn’t—I don’t…” he said very gently. “New York is dangerous. No matter how hard any of us tries.” He said. “I… I’m sorry. I’ll work on it. There’s no one I trust more than you,” Raphael inhaled deeply. “You have to know it comes from a place of deep care,”

I reached for his hand. “I know,” I said. “And I’m not ungrateful for you always being there. But come on…” I smiled a little. 

He smiled too. “Okay. I will stop helicoptering your life and… just be in it with you,”

My face warmed as little butterflies flutter in my stomach. 

“I’d like that a lot,” I said. 

“Me too,” he said. “And… I’m sorry I called you stupid,”

“Yeah that one hurt a little,” I confessed. 

“I’m sorry,” he turned his hand up and intertwined our fingers just to give my hand a little assuring squeeze. “I don’t think you’re stupid. I’m sorry I said it. You’re a strong capable woman who’s pretty damn smart.”

“Thanks,” I said with a smile, ducking my head at the flattery. 

My eyes trained on our intertwined fingers. Raphael noticed and quickly drew his hand away stammering an apology. 

“I didn’t say I minded,” I said to him, a little amused. 

“Oh—oh!” He said suddenly out of sorts. “Um—“ 

I couldn’t help but laugh and take his hand back into mine. It was still weird and wonderful holding his hand. 

“We’re a team, yeah?” I said. 

“The A Team,” he agreed with a grin. A laugh fell from my lips at a memory he drew back from almost ten years ago. Our storm had passed. 

“I still can’t believe you made me watch that movie,” I said. 

“It’s a good movie!” He insisted. 

“Uhuh,” I said unconvinced. 

“It is!” He said. 

“Yeah, no a great movie.” I laid the sarcasm on thick. 

He pouted a bit at me, ready to defend the 2010 movie with a vigor. Sometimes it was fun to rile him up about little things. Especially when he fell for it and then caught on. And it dawned on him that I was messing with him; Raph gave me an unamused look that I responded to with a cheesy grin. His dark cloud didn’t stay long. His eyes shone brightly in the dim light. 

“Are you okay though?” He asked, his eyes checking me over. “I shoulda asked that first,”

I nodded. “Yeah. It was… weird. All he did was threaten me? Taunt me? I don’t really know…” I said. “I’m definitely his target. But he didn’t say how.”

“Did he say why?” Raph asked, in thought. 

“To make me suffer like he has,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I really don’t see how I’m on his list for that. I don’t know how I’m on anyone’s lists here,” I said more pointedly. 

“Yeah,” Raph said. “Okay…” he ran a hand over his face. “And you’re sure you’re okay?” 

“All things considered… sure,” I said. “I’m just tired and stressed and confused,” it was a small truth. 

“I bet,” Raph sympathized. “I’m so sorry kid, none of this is your fault and you’re just stuck in it.” It was another small truth. 

I nodded and rubbed my eyes. “Well… you’re here so… you wanna walk me the rest of the way?” 

“Oh! Yes! You still wanna come over?” He said, surprised. 

“Do you not want me to come over?” I said. 

“No I do! I do! I just… I dunno… I thought maybe…” he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“As long as you promise no more freak outs, I’m okay,” I said surely. 

“No more freak outs,” he promised. 

“Then let’s go,” I smiled. 

Neither of us mentioned why Raph had met me in the alley. There would just be too many draining questions and I wasn’t here for that. I was here for video games and pizza and good company. And sitting next to Donnie, explaining the first chapter of the video game with the guys around me (even Leo), I had that. 

Sometime during the course of the night, Raph migrated to sitting next to me, stretched out so I was almost in his lap. I tried to not let it get to me, but it might have a little bit. It would be so easy to stretch and end up in his lap. The warmth and security he offered especially after tonight, I wanted it. Craved it. And he must have felt it too because he wrapped an arm around my middle and pulled me back. My face got hot and I was so glad Donatello was currently occupied with a random encounter enemy. Mikey definitely grinned at me though and I wanted to hide so badly. But the safety and warmth I wanted was found here and that overrode any embarrassment about unspoken feelings for the moment. 

“You wanna come sit in my lap angel cakes?” Mikey asked, waggling his eyebrows. I felt Raph tense under me and I hid my face laughing. 

“No,” I said, giggling. “No I do not,” 

“Awe, but we’re all friends here, so why is Raph special,” He faked a pout like no one would know exactly the game he was playing. Raph’s grip on me tightened possessively, not in an unwelcome sort of way. 

“Oh my god,” I groaned, still laughing. “Mikey no. I’m good right here,” 

“But if I’m your friend and Raph’s your friend then—“ 

“Shut it Mikey,” Raph hissed threateningly. Michelangelo grinned, clearly getting the reaction he wanted. 

“But—“ 

“Mikey.” 

This time it came from Leo. I looked at him, absolutely shocked. He gave me a little half smile. And Mikey backed down, grumbling about never getting to have fun. Contented, I leaned back into Raph’s arms, watching Donnie, who was completely oblivious to the entire situation because he was sucked into the colorful 8-bit world. I half-watched Donnie as the hour grew later, my head tucked against Raph’s neck. Mikey had dozed off sometime earlier, and was now snoring on the sofa and Leo had retired to his room. 

“Stay tonight?” Raph’s voice was low and sleepy in my ear. 

I had no protest against it. I didn’t want to move ever again actually. This was all too perfect for me. I nodded against his chest and his arms wrapped tighter around me, pulling a blanket over us from the couch. 

“You still okay?” He asked as I rested my head back on his shoulder. He pulled me a little closer. 

“Yeah,” I whispered but there was a question gnawing at me. “Do you think I should go?” I asked, curious, too tried to worry if it was a good question. I kept finding too much trouble in the city. 

“You’re asking me, my opinion?” Raph said. 

“Mhmm,” 

“I promised you a long time ago I wouldn’t make you stay if you didn’t make me wait,” his voice was so soft. “You can still go,” 

“But do you want me to go?” I pressed, needing to know the answer. 

“No,” he said. “I don’t want you to go anywhere,”

I nodded and my eyes slipped shut, content. “Then I’ll stay right here,” 

“Yeah?” I could hear his smile even with my eyes closed.

“Nowhere I’d rather be,” I said candidly. 

“Me either,” 

We fell asleep wrapped up in each other’s arms, our fingers still intertwined. 

.

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part four

. masterlist

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And even when he found himself in this predicament, with his plastron pressed flat against your back, your hands and knees holding yourself up and his breath fanning over your sweaty neck, he still chose to believe that you didn’t put yourself in this position on purpose.

“What do you do?” He clears his throat to be-rid the itch, licking his lips while trying to focus on anything but the way you look pressed beneath him.

You’re silent for a few seconds before arching yourself into him, a poor attempt to knock him off. Christ you’re barely putting your all into it, it’s almost like—

“Seems I’m just trapped under you.” You say, voice low and just the slightest bit gravelly. You look over your shoulder at him, the silence thickening every second and it’s like something sparks in the air with the heated gaze you’re giving each other.

Leo wets his lips again and shifts his arm to slowly cross around your front, fingers skimming just above your pelvis.

“What if I were to do this? What then?” He had leaned in closer to whisper directly into ear, his warm breath making you shiver and you didn’t do anything to repress it.

Steadily you place your hand over his, giving a small squeeze and make no attempt to remove it.

“Do you… want me to do something about it?”

His heart practically shoots out from his ribs when you ask that and his fingers curl against your body. You can hear him audibly swallow, snout nudging against your ear.

“If this were a real situation, you’d be dead by now.” He whispers, allowing himself to run his lips up the shell of your ear.

“I guess it’s a good thing it’s not then, hm?”

Oh you were playing a very dangerous game with him.

Still, there’s a nudging voice in the back of his mind, the one making him question if you were genuinely into him or just doing all this for your own fun, despite you making a glaringly obvious hint. You feel Leo momentarily tense behind you and you look over your shoulder to face him.

“Something wrong?” You murmur, taking in the detail of his scaly and scarred face. God you wanted to touch him, feel the texture under your fingertips, against your stomach, in between your thighs, on your tongue—

“No." He answers, his gaze sweeping over your face, fingers flexing against you once again. "I just..." He laughs nervously, "I don't want to do something without your clear consent." Fuck you could kiss him right there (even though the angle is a bit awkward). "You have my consent, Leo. My trust, my permission... everything." You mumble, letting your eyes trail and settle on his lips. You hear and see how his throat shifts when he swallows, how his pupils dilate. And then he's kissing you; slow, careful, methodical. The position is a bit uncomfortable on your neck but you don't care, especially not when he moves more forward and cups your opposite cheek to hold you steady. It's a sweet kiss, his far larger mouth being so so delicate with your smaller one that you forget that you're trapped beneath him. Even though you're not exactly fighting to free yourself. You're right where you want to be. The kissing was nice, wonderful even, but Leo wanted more. He wanted to touch you, taste you, make you cry and see how you'd wither from his doings. So he stops kissing you, splays his hand flat across your pelvis and nudges your ear with his snout again. "I'd like to go further if that's okay with you." His voice vibrates against your back and you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on more. "Yeah? How so?" He gives you time to back out or say something when he gives a small tug to the waistband of your bottoms, but when don't stop him that's when he takes the plunge-- literally. His other hand on your waist clutches you tightly when his palm grazes over the patch of hair on your pelvis, the texture of it has him churring directly in your ear and when his fingers trail lower and make contact with your sex? Well he just can't help but gather the slick that formed there and start spreading it all over. Leo wasn't exactly an expert on these things, admittedly his only knowledge came from books (and the rare erotic video). But he does know how to read people's expressions and right now it's crystal clear that his ministrations are doing wonders since your breathing turned heavy and you 'subtly' tried rocking back against him. So he takes it a step further and starts skimming his lips across your cheek, moving his hand faster and shifting his other one to cradle your jaw. He tries so so hard to prevent his cock from slipping out but even he can't resist the tempting thought of rutting against you while he pleasures you. So he does exactly that-- allows just the tip and some more to peek out to grind against your backside and fuck does it feel good. The rhythm, the hushed panting, the secrecy of trying to stay quiet to not alert the rest of Lair only added to the intimacy of the moment and when you hear that throaty 'fuck' from Leo? Well you just can't help it when your hips start grinding harder against his weeping cock and take one of his thick fingers into your mouth. He ends up guiding you to lay your chest flat to the ground, keeping your ass lifted so he can keep grinding himself against you. He's grunting and groaning directly in your ear, his warm breath fanning across your already sweaty skin and with every stroke you feel yourself nearing the end. "Mm'sorry, I'm gonna-- ugh, I'm gonna--!" He grunts out, putting almost his full weight against your back as he fucks against your backside harder and faster while doing the same to you with his hand. His last few thrusts are harsher against you as he climaxes, the sticky warm substance immediately seeping through the material of your pants. His hand movements grow sloppy but it's still enough to get you to finish as well, sealing your lips around his digit and whining sweetly. You twitch in his grasp when he keeps going, stroking your sensitive sex and churring deeply with every poor attempt you give to clamp your legs shut. You only succeed in trapping his hand and pressing him more against you. He finally relents when beg him softly to stop, huffing against the floor and nearly in tears (who knew the leader in blue had a thing for overstim?).

When he tugs his hand out of your pants, he brings it up to your faces and makes a show of how shiny and sticky his fingers are.