Hey I wonder. What would happen if the Turtlesâs crush was dating someone for a long time but hereâs the twist: that person was working for the Foot and was using that person to get close to the Turtles. And the Turtlesâ crush doesnât know about it, of course. It may be a little angst but Iâm trying to get ideas for my fanfics and I would like to read from your version.
Oh, this sounds super interesting. Lemme see what I can do.
Genre: Angst, some fluff near the end
Note: I wasn't really going anywhere with these, I pretty much let the story lead me and its not EXACTLY what the ask was but I feel its close enough. I hope you like! And as per usual, Raph's is longer ( ͥ° ÍÊ ÍĄÂ°)
Also, do tag me on your fic if you ever get around to doing it.
The Spy (GN!Reader finds out their boyfriend is a Foot Clan spy and the turts have to deal with that)
Mood Song: Fun. - All The Pretty Girls
How could you fall for the oldest trick in the book?!
That sweet boy you met in a coffee shop by accident once and who you instantly fell for was a spy for the Foot. Because of course he was! Good things just don't happen to you, at least not without a caveat.
"Hey." there's a voice you usually love to listen to but which you now dreaded the sound of.
"Hi." it felt inappropriate, your response, after everything that had just happened this type of casual tone felt forced.
"How are you feeling?" his steps were so quiet that you hadn't realised when he'd walked through the room and sat on his bed next to you.
Well, apart from betrayed, stupid, and just absolutely devastated, you felt a crushing amount of guilt.
You just shrugged, eyes still pointing at the soft blanket he'd covered you with.
You'd led the Foot Clan to the turtles.
What was wrong with you?! How could you not see the writing on the wall? How that man just seemed to mold into whatever you liked? How he adopted all the mannerisms, quirks, interest and personality of a certain someone? How he failed to tell you anything too specific about himself as he let you tell him everything about yourself?
How could you not see that he was trying to replace Leo, so you could let your guard down?
You should have spotted the red flags immediately, the moment he started talking about Japanese Warfare and History, or the weird amount of blue he was wearing, or the fact that he was into martial arts, or that he was homeschooled and had three brothers. Any one of these would have been a total coincidence on their own but all of them in total should have flagged up and you were an absolute moron for not realising it.
Or was it because you didn't want to realise it.
After all, that was one way to be with Leo, even if it wasn't really him, just a discount version of him.
A tough, cool texture brushed at the bottom of your chin, pushing it upwards, and there was Leonardo. Those clear, crystalline eyes with that razors-sharp focus stuck to your own gaze.
Of course he knew what you were thinking. He was your best friend, after all. Isn't that what started this mess in the first place?
But he was wrong. It didn't ofter happen, but it was bound to happen eventually.
It was entirely your fault.
It was fully your fault that you fell for that man's tricks, and not only that but you encouraged him to do them more. It was fully your fault that you let him into your life willingly, because in hindsight you supposed this man was in for the long run - he was a spy after all - but you were so willing to buy into this fantasy, that you could have your cake and eat it too, that you just rushed head-empty into a relationship with him.
It was fully your fault that you became careless the moment you became a couple and now, look at where you ended up.
And instead of doing the decent-person thing and trying to apologise to the Hamato clan, trying to make it up to them, comforting them - here you are, being taken care of by Leo, like you were the fucking victim.
And what were you supposed to say to make things better anyway? 'Sorry I nearly led the enemy to your doorstep and risked your and your family's murder. Good thing your brother has security cameras and tracking devices all over the city or this would have gotten out of hand!'
"(Y/N), none of us blame you for this!" he rarely ever raised his voice at you, but you felt he realised he was not getting through to you, "You could not have known he was a spy."
You could have known there was only one person that caring, yet strick; emotional, yet stoic; someone who was capable of so much but showed very little of it. Brave, and, generous, and kind, and still somehow so humble.
"I think..." you only realised you were sobbing once your throat betrayed you, hiccuping, shrinking, burning, just as your eyes were, but you muscled it down - that's the least you could do, "I think I should go."
Subtle worry and anger disturbed the oceans in his eyes, the shift was minute but it was there.
It almost seemed like he was sad in that moment, but realistically what would he be sad over? And why was he being so coveting in that very moment? Had this been one of his brother, he would've ripped them a new asshole, he would've handed their assets to them! Rightly so, but still.
"You're not safe out there. You're not going anywhere."
Well, you couldn't stay there either, the guilt was going to eat you alive, you had to go. You had to leave. You had to keep running from your problems lest they'd catch up to you and tear you to shreds.
"I'll stay over with a friend. Don't worry."
You tried to fake a smile at the end of that, and thank God you couldn't see yourself, as it probably looked like a grimace.
You grabbed your bag, jacket and keys from the floor, jumped off it so quickly you saw stars and bolted out of the Lair.
Something grabbed onto your wrist before you could leave the room and pulled you back into a solid surface. Thick, powerful arms wrapped around your midriff and shoulders.
"You're not going anywhere." and that was a command, "You're staying here. With me."
What's gotten into him? He was never usually that forward with physical touch and he'd rather show what he meant than say it.
You could feel warmth coming from somewhere near your neck and instinctively lowered your head to give more space.
"Do you know how terrified I was that something could happen to you?" soft, warm, slightly damp lips touched ever so softly that sensitive skin of your neck, "That every next second we couldn't get a hold of you was torture?" his warm breath hit you in small waves, heating you up on the inside, hoping to expell the freezing cold fear and panic from the day, "I was scared I'd never see you again."
And you were terrified something would happen to him.
Through the solid plates of his plastron, into your back you felt his heartbeat. It was off the charts for him. It felt like the stomping of an army, the banging of battle drums, like the ground was under a destructive storm, looking to raise all life with the ground until there was only silence.
And yet you've never felt more safe.
That wasn't an order. That was a plea. One that, even if you didn't feel immense crushing guilt, you would fulfil, because you owed him so much.
"Did you ever..." he seemed to not want the answer, or worse still, be scared of it, "Did you and him..."
"No. I couldn't. It didn't feel right."
His warm, protective arms around you, so close to you, for the first time in forever.
Til this day you didn't know how he found the heart to forgive you, but you were glad he did.
Mood Song: Galss Animals - Heat Waves
Rhythmic, soft steps hit the concrete in front of you, creating a quick pace for your heartbeat to compete with.
Everyone who knew Raph knew he had a temper. They knew he could be grumpy, yelly sometimes, other times he even just burst out of nowhere. Most of his social circle have seen him hit, crush, break, smash, scream, and fight with whatever the source of his distress was. What they didn't know is that that was the better option.
The worry was when he turned silent. Because his silent anger was far more catatonic.
Pompei, you'd called it once - a silent, deadly force of nature, just sitting, stewing, brewing under the surface, waiting for a moment to bleed out crushing, drowning, burning all within its reach.
And there you were, at the lip of the vulcano, waiting for the fire to come.
He was usually so silent in his steps.
But in his pacing, his anger only intensified, overriding all his training, all his years of practice.
Your heart was about to burst out.
Of course, you didn't want to be on the receiving end of Raphael yelling, no one did. The problem here is, you deserved it. You deserved far more. You deserved to have him cut you off completely. But you weren't gonna tell him that.
"What..." you could hear the strain, the dam desperately trying to hold back an incoming flood, "... we're you thinking?"
And that was a good, tough question.
What you were thinking is that you could replace him.
What you were thinking was that a random guy who'd waltzed into your life less than a year ago, could take the place of someone you'd known for years, who you trusted with your life, and who had trusted you with his.
Trust that you evicerated with your reckless, shameless actions.
How do you respond to that?
"I don't know." that was a lie too.
Like you'd lied that things weren't serious between the two of you, when you'd been so emotionally-invested in that relationship. You also lied about many of the things he told you about himself, so the boys wouldn't think he was suspicious.
And of course that was one of your largest mistakes. Had you told any one of the Hamato clan who this man told you he was, they'd have clocked him immediately.
But then there was the shame you felt.
What? We're you gonna tell Raph that that guy was virtually the best replacement for him you could find? Well, while you're at it, why don't you tell him that knowing him for years, having had all sorts of memories with him, having all of that emotional infrastructure between you, him having saved you more than once, had led to the birth and growth of your feelings for him.
"Bullshit." he hissed, seething.
You could just get off the bench and get the fuck outta there...
No, that won't do - he's much faster than you, and you'd only make yourself look worse.
"I wasn't thinking, okay?" you hardly mustered a whisper, hoping that the statement would just diffuse into the air, like smoke form an open fire.
"No shit." he'd stopped pacing.
You were exclusively looking at the floor, so you only saw his feet facing your way.
The question startled you so much, you instinctively looked up at him to gauge his reaction.
"Ya heard me. What did you lie about?"
Shit, he was over-enunciating. That'd only happened once before and that was a shit show in its own right. Not like this one though.
Well, yeah, of course he knew, idiot. He knows you!
Your own anger at yourself was rising, and when added to shame and guilt, lit a couldron of bile and sulfur somewhere deep within your soul, and fuck me, did it burn.
In hindsight, he knew that too.
"That's why ya tell yer friends this shit, (Y/N)!"
"Well, I don't want you as my friend!"
Here you are making things worse!
Jesus, the hurt, the genuine pain on his face, could have, and should have killed you on the spot.
"So, what , you didn't want me as yer friend so you tried to get my family killed?!"
Here come the magmatic floods of Pompei. You might as well say what you have to say before the fire hits you.
When had you started crying?
And why the fuck was he so quiet?
"What?" his voice was so much calmer than what it had been just seconds prior.
Sure, you hadn't worded it great, but he seemed genuinely shocked.
But how? He knew you. He knew when you were lying. How had he not noticed when you'd made up reasons to stay and be with him? Or when you'd tried to force an 'Eww' when Mikey said you were like an old married couple sometimes? Or when the topic of relationships would come up and all you'd say is 'I've got my eye on someome'.
Out with it already. He hates you anyway, what's there to lose. You at least owe him that.
"He showed up one day at work, and..." fuck this was embarrassing, "just walked in with the kinda confidence I'd only seen once before. He was like..." hopefully, he'll see this as your confession; hopefully, he'll realise just how powerful of a presence he is; hopefully the next person that comes round here won't betray his trust like you had, "... so charming. And strong. And gentle. And he would listen to me ramble about the NCAA..." deep breaths, he's listening, you don't wanna fuck this up anymore than you'd already done, "and in him, I saw... You?" it sounded like a question, because you couldn't whether you were an idiot or just sounded like one.
"Yeah, you." sniff, sniff, "I though, well, what a way to keep my friendship with Raph but be with him too. All win, no risk." there was a forced chuckle at the end of that and you weren't certain as to why it came out but you felt it may make things worse. Like you weren't taking this seriously.
"What are ya talkin about?" his pitch and tone were escalation back up.
"You know what I'm talking about, Raph!"
"You calling me a liar?!"
"I'm in love with you, asshole!"
A warm hand softly touched your cheek, as if to prompt you to look at him. But you couldn't.
Well, you couldn't just not look at him, when he said your name so tenderly.
It wasn't until your eyes settled on his the floodgates truly opened.
But not the ones you thought of.
His eyes were glassy, almost teary, round with shock and curiosity, his brows were lifted as if trying to shield him of potential deceit.
Oh, my God! How many times did you need to spell it out to him?!
You knew he wasn't stupid - sure, brash, and reckless, and impatient, but not stupid - so him failing to accept your obvious affection for him wasn't so much an intellectual issue as it was his severe lack of self-esteem, forcing him to doubt your words.
"I'm in love with you. And I have been for years now." somehow even after years of yearning, the flavour of imminent rejection tasted oddly bitter-sweet, "That's why, when he posed as diet-you, I didn't want to believe something was wrong because that was as close to you as I could get. That's why I lied, so that you wouldn't spot any potential red flags and take away my only means of, in a backwards way, being with you." the tension was so high, that you felt the need to insert a joke in there, just to maintain your own sanity. "And, by the way, he was such a shitty kisser that we never even made it to bed."
Well, that half a joke. You never did have sex with him. You tried. But couldn't. Because as much as he posed and acted, as much as he postured and tried to impress you, you couldn't forget that he was not Raphael, and never would be.
That same warm hand that was stationed in your cheek moved down to your neck and before you knew it, hot rough lips landed on yours.
Your breathing quickened, your eyes widened and all you could see was Raphael with his eyes closed, so close to you, that you could count his freckles. But you had no interest in doing that at the moment.
As his mouth pressed onto yours, hand holding you steady, your arms did the natural thing and snaked over his shoulders and the lip of his shell, but not before letting your hands feel up his strong arms, shoulders and neck - the rough textured skin there, every singular scale, the raw power under, with his muscles and tendons pulling and flexing to encompass you perfectly.
At a point you had to pull back but it'd felt like forever until you could get your breath back.
"Nothing like the real thing."
Mood song: Imagine dragons - West Coast
How had you fallen for such a shitty impersonation? And why? It made no sense to you.
Or at least that's what you told Donatello.
In your head, it made perfect sense.
You couldn't have what you wanted so you settled for whatever was available. And wouldn't you know it, the Foot Clan had just sent a spy to you who was trying to fish out the Hamato family.
And you, the moron, fell for it.
"You're so much smarter than this."
If it's so easy to fool you, were you really that smart?
And here he was, Donatello, the most intelligent man you've ever met, and will possibly ever meet, trying to make some sort of sense from your illogical actions.
And he was only doing that because acknowledging that they were illogical would mean that they were emotional. That would hurt.
You didn't know what he was thinking but you had your suspicions.
He probably thought that he used some sort of hypnosis on you to take your guard down, and get information on them.
But the fact is you let him in willingly.
You had to tell him, no matter how ashamed you were, no matter how embarrassing admitting this out loud would be. You owed him the truth, if not for nearly getting his family killed, then for all the years before that.
"There's nothing to understand, Don." you shook your head in disbelief and disappointment in yourself, because you were all too willing let the impostor into your head and heart, "He acted like he cared for me so I could lead him to you. And I fell for it." there were the facts. The inevitable truth that you had fallen for the biggest scam there is and this one nearly killed the closest thing to a family you've ever had.
As those big shiny golden eyes stared at you unblinking, you realised he was refusing to accept your explanation.
Surely there was something else! Some other answer, he did something to you, he forced you to comply with him, something!
You were seriously getting frustrated with his questioning. It was not a complicated thing to understand. It was tough to deal with emotionally, sure, but the facts were simple.
"Why what, Don?! Why did I let myself fall for his nonsense? Why did he turn out to be a liar? Why the Foot would send a spy to pick at the weak link? Isn't it obvious?!"
His eyes were near empty. There was none of his usual curiosity, none of the drive, none of his characteristic tiredness. They were just empty.
No, he wasn't calm. He was detached. He simply was not there.
"Hair of the dog that bit you."
His brow pulled together, and that seemed to have brought him back momentarily.
"Oh, my god, Donnie!" the floodgates had opened, his pushing - strategic or not - seems to have worked, "It's you! You're the reason I fell for his bullshit! I was trying to get you out of my head!" your throat burned from the rapid shift in volume and pitch but that was the last of your worries.
Replacing one addiction with another, some fucking adult you are.
Your breath was chasing you through the emotional tornado you were in, but it seemed to come just short of catching up.
"I was desperate to get my mind off you. And at some point you showed up and..." you didn't think you could make it any clearer.
"You mean... you... like me?"
That's what he picked up on?! Not your complete disregard for logic, not the irresponsible way in which you handled your relationship, not even the fact that this whole thing could have devastating consequences? This?!
"Yes? Obviously, Donnie?! Everyone knew!"
"Then why didn't you say anything?"
"Because I thought there's no way you didn't know! Like you're the smartest person I know, there's no way you didn't notice my blatant flirting and when nothing happened, I took that as my que to stop."
You were screaming at that point, and what your words were saying was devastating - it wasn't his fault that any of this happened, like you were trying to imply.
You hated yourself in that moment. You were the embodiment of everything you hated in people, and that added more frustration to the already hit swirling pot of bile in your tummy.
"Well, we both misjudged then."
Thick arms wrapped around you, your head fell onto the rough plates of his chest and you could feel your pulse synching up to his.
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