#‘MIKEY!’ he screeches | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anisespice · 4 months ago

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“ hate your boyfriend ” || tokyo rev. pt. 3

one two

synopsis: “ just drop your boyfriend. ”

pairing: college!toman x gn!reader

warnings: mature language, sexual themes, MDI. toxic!toman, cheater!reader (pumpkin eater!!!), mikey and baji’s are fairly long, mitsuya’s short and sweet, not proof-read, mild mention of violence, mild angst (for the exes), and i think that’s it

notes: whew wasn’t sure where to take some of these, but i’m fairly satisfied with this conclusion for hate your boyfriend! thank you all for showing it love and i hope y’all enjoy! <333

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @spacegirl05, @neverlandlostchild , @darks-pet-shadow, @captaincyberqueen

The sun was the first to greet you as it peeked through your curtains.

Awaking with a soft groan and a stretch, you winced at the immediate ache in your muscles that answered instead of relief. You began to slowly sit up, hissing through your teeth as you did. Blinking groggily at your naked form, you could vaguely make out the bruises painted along your inner thighs. The longer you examined them, the more memories that came flooding in:

Your legs were high enough to nearly touch your shoulders, spread wide and unabashed with your back pressed into the mattress, fingers tangled in silky tresses that curtained over your hips like spilled ink while an experienced tongue fluent in your pleasure buried itself deep in your…

You remembered. MIKEY had paid you a visit last night.

When your mind eventually caught up with your body, you turned to the other side of the bed hoping to be met with the comforting presence of your still sleeping companion. You grimaced.

Empty.

Tears slowly welled up in your eyes. Biting your lip to push back the whimper you so desperately wanted to let out, you hit the pillow where his head laid instead, then a couple more times for good measure. To think that this visit would’ve been any different, that for once you would mean more to him than just someone to fool around with whenever he felt like it.

But, before you could wallow in self pity any further, there’s a knock on the bedroom door. You jumped, tugging the covers up to salvage what little decency you had in your vulnerable state. With your heart thumping wildly in your ribs, your breath hitched…Did he stay after all?

A second knock. This one a little more persistent.

With a stuttered intake of breath, you answered, “C-Come in.”

There’s a brief pause, as if the person on the other side hesitated in case they heard you wrong. You called out again, this time more confidently, your fists bunching up the sheets in anticipation at the sound of the doorknob turning; hope bloomed where dread had been planted. A watery smile grew on your face, however, the person who ended up peeking around the door wasn’t at all who you were expecting.

“Wha—Takemichi?!”

Your screech made the blonde startle, jerking back into whoever was standing behind him causing them both to yelp in pain before he was promptly shoved further into the room. Stumbling over his footing, Takemichi fell flat on the floor with a large thud. You winced, reflexively pulling the covers closer to your chin. Shortly after, the culprit revealed himself, a disgruntled Chifuyu holding his nose in pain as he glared down at the offender.

“Jeez, dude, s’your head made outta freaking stone?”

Takemichi grunted from below, “You were the one breathing down my damn neck!”

Like a deer in headlights, you watched the two of them bicker back and forth for a good second until the realization of your very nakedness beneath the covers caught up with you. With fire shrouding beneath your skin, you squeaked, “U-Uh excuse me!”

The two blondes froze, as if they just remembered what they were supposed to be doing. When their eyes darted in your direction, faces lit up like Christmas, Chifuyu and Takemichi swiftly turned on their heels with stiffened bodies while profusely apologizing as they faced away to give you privacy. Nervously, you searched around for a shirt or something, seeing clothes already waiting for you on your nightstand. You knew based on how haphazardly folded they were, Mikey left them there.

Your chest didn’t feel as tight anymore.

Without hesitation you snatched the shirt and sweats and quickly threw them on. Now somewhat decent, you gave the devastated pair the okay. “You can look now…”

Even from behind, you could tell how flustered they were, their ears red and demeanor meek as they hesitantly turned back around. Chifuyu scratched his cheek and Takemichi rubbed the back of his neck, both avoiding eye contact. The former was the first to break the awkward silence, “Sorry ‘bout that, [_____].”

He elbowed the latter. “Guht!… right. Sorry [_____].”

You nodded, offering a small smile. “It’s fine…you did knock. I just…wasn’t expecting to see you two.”

“Oh, right. Mikey called us. We arrived a few minutes ago, actually.”

“Yeah, he told us to check on you to see if you were awake—”

“He’s still here?” You perked up, hopes raised high to the ceiling. The duo finally looked at you again to show their confusion. Were you not aware of that?

Clearly from your elated expression, that seemed to be the case. Both nodded firmly, and they could’ve sworn the room grew brighter from your smile alone. However, it soon dissipated when an unanswered question still hung in the air.

With a confused blink, you asked, “Wait but…why’d he call you?”

They avoided eye contact again. Takemichi answered.

“You uh.. you’re needed in the living room.”

—

Though you struggled to get out of the bed and walk, you were grateful neither of them commented on it as they escorted you out of the bedroom. From down the hall, you could faintly make out a few other voices coming from the living room, nerves beginning to raddle as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt—More people?

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight you’re greeted with. Your eyes locked on the individual tied to a chair in the middle of the room, first. His head hung low, as if he were on the verge of unconsciousness, but there was no mistaking it. “A-Aki..”

Your presence was acknowledged instantly, every pair of eyes now on you. You felt rooted to the floor, utterly gobsmacked as you scanned the small area with alarms sounding off in your head—Draken, Mitsuya, even Baji came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of ice before halting in his tracks upon noticing you. He greeted you with a wordless, fanged grin before the one man you’ve been wondering about since you woke up trailed out from behind him.

His low, tired gaze slowly sparked to life when it landed on you, lips spreading into a warm grin as he opened his arms and said, “Mornin’, angel. Sleep well?”

You widely blinked.

“Mikey…what’re you.. what is—what,” you stammered, having difficulty choosing what question to ask first as you vaguely gestured.

Your boyfriend sluggishly lifted his head, revealing his taped mouth and swollen face. Your jaw dropped, hand flying up to catch it; man’s was fucked up. And to add insult to injury, the former blonde practically floated over to you to happily engulf you in his strong embrace, as if the scene in front of you wasn’t there. You hesitated returning his affection, perturbed as you watched Baji set the bowl of ice on the coffee table and submerged his fists in it to numb his knuckles.

You gasped before gently pushing Mikey back to shout at the ravenette, “Don’t!”

Baji paused, looking over his shoulder at you. With mild annoyance, he said, “But t’s my turn.”

“Fuck your turn,” you looked back at Mikey, practically staring into his soul. “Explain yourself. Right now.”

He frowned. “No good mornin’ kiss?”

“Mikey.” You pressed, making him pout. When he didn’t say anything in response, you huffed before quickly pecking his lips, face boiling at the fact that there was an audience; you could feel Aki’s glare trying to burn you both. Mikey, on the other hand, beamed with satisfaction. “Now, will you please-”

“One more.”

“Wha—No.”

He pouted again. “One more, and then I’ll explain-”

“Right now, Manjiro!”

Your volume was unexpected, the room startling to a halt. Before Mikey had a chance to speak, you cut him off by lightly shoving him while spewing questions at him, “What the hell is Aki doing tied up in my living room like a fucking hostage? And why are you giving our friends turns?—Turns for what? Is this what you’ve seriously been doing while I was asleep? Trying to make some stupid point? Sneaking around with you wasn’t enough?”

“[_____]-”

“Why did you make me wake up thinking you left again without saying goodbye, you asshole?!”

That last part resulted in you beating your fists against his chest, and Mikey took every hit without protest.

Draken went to speak, since obviously their leader was taking his sweet time providing explanation, but swallowed his words when the shorter delinquent merely wrapped you in his arms again, placing a kiss on your forehead to smooth out the stress lines. He lingered there for a moment before resting his chin upon your head, hands soothingly rubbing your back as you shakily returned the hug, tightly clutching onto his shirt.

Gazes respectfully averted from the vulnerable display, aside from Aki as he continued to watch the two of you, overcome with despair when it all sunk in; you were never his. He had always been second place when it came to Manjiro Sano.

“Don’t be upset, angel. ‘m not going anywhere.”

You sniffled. “Then why-”

Mikey replied, coldly. “Seems your little plaything’s been busy. He paid off a couple of third-rate gangs to try and ‘stomp me out for good’.”

You stiffened, pulling back to search his eyes for any hint of a joke, but the abyss merely stared back. With a slight shake in your head, you attempted to deny the information, not wanting to believe Aki would do such a thing. But, after getting confirmation from the others, there was no room for any doubt.

“Only took us minutes to find out,” Mitsuya said. “Some of their members were cocky enough to go around running their mouths in hopes of recruiting other guys.”

“We tracked down every single one of the bastards involved. Took a few days, but a success nonetheless.” Draken added.

“And guess whose sorry ass was at the root of it all.” Baji sneered, kicking the side of the chair and sending Aki toppling over. He landed with a large thud, moans of pain following shortly after, muffled under the tape on his mouth.

You winced slightly at the sound, but weren’t able to dwell on it for long when Mikey redirected your focus back on him with a gentle nudge under your chin. His expression spoke a thousand words, ranging from solemn to devotion.

Reaching down to hold your hands, he explained.

“That’s why I left town the night after your party. Didn’t want you getting caught up in anything until we got this shit sorted out.”

With a blink, your eyes briefly shifted over to the groaning figure on your living room floor. “A bit late for that.”

Draken shook his head. “Told him we could’ve gone somewhere else to do this. Dumbass just wanted to wave his dick around.”

Mikey flushed, glaring at his second in command. “Did not!”

“Did, too.”

“Shut up, Ken-chin...” he huffed, pouting. “I just knew he wouldn’t suspect anything if [_____] asked him to come over.”

Your brows furrowed. But, your questions are answered when Mikey pulled said device from his pocket, handing it back to you.

“Might’ve borrowed this while you were sleeping.”

Taking the phone in one hand, you could only stare down at your reflection in the screen as it felt like a heavy weight in your hand. Your eyes trailed over to Aki, meeting his pained gaze as he breathed heavily through his nose. A large part of you felt horrible. With him receiving a beating on top of discovering your unfaithfulness, there was no ignoring the lump in your throat as you struggled to swallow. "I...I didn't want things to get this bad..."

Mikey squeezed your other hand, "It's not your fault, angel. Aki just forgot his place, that's all." He shot down an indifferent look at his pathetic form, Aki's blood running cold as he attempted to make himself appear smaller to avoid it. The former blonde directed a softer look at you, rubbing your arm as he assured you. "But the boys'll take care of it, so don't worry your pretty head."

Draken nodded at Takemichi and Chifuyu, the two of them making quick work to sit the guest of the hour upright, each grabbing at the chair's legs to lift Aki up and carry him out of the living room. He slowly began to panic, eyes wildly looking around the room and then landing on you as he pleaded with them, yells muffled by the tape around his mouth. "Mmmh! Mmfh! Mmfhh!"

You gaped, nervously taking a small step forward, "W-Where are you taking him?"

"Relax. Pah's lending us his truck, we're gonna load the fucker up and drop him at the hospital. I wanted to let him stargaze by a dumpster somewhere, but I was outvoted." Baji grumbled.

You allowed yourself to find relief in his statement, although it only sparked another concern. One that Mitsuya picked up on as he waved a hand. "We'll have Michi and Fuyu keeping tabs on him, make sure he behaves."

Mikey scoffed. "Even if he's stupid enough to run to the cops, we've got a few of his buddies ready to pin a bunch of shit on him, if necessary."

Without realizing just how much adrenaline you were running on, you could feel your legs buckle under you. Mikey was quick to steady you, bringing you over to the couch to sit you down, gently. He gestured for someone grab something to drink from the kitchen, Draken being the closest doing just that while Baji and Mitsuya trailed Takemichi and Chifuyu out the door to help with the truck.

Sitting there, lost in your thoughts, eventually the cold sensation of the glass of water pressed to your cheek snapped you free. Absentmindedly taking it from Draken, you muttered a soft thanks before chugging it down. Mikey sat beside you, rubbing your back as he let you take it all in. The second in command was dismissed shortly after to give the two of you some alone time, him placing a hand on your shoulder before taking his leave and closing the front door with a slam.

You jumped, blinking for a moment. Mikey took the empty cup from your shaky hands, taking them into his own as he held them. “What’s on your mind, angel?”

Closing your eyes, you deeply inhaled. Everything. Everything, everywhere, all at once, that’s what. However, you merely exhaled a small chuckle in disbelief, shaking your head as you eventually lifted your gaze to meet his attentive one. Squeezing his hands back, you softly, tiredly, responded. “Can you come back to bed now?”

Mikey looked at you, caught off guard. Then, he offered you a small grin of which soon turned into a yawn of his own. “Of course, angel.”

“So. This a thing now, or..?”

Inui’s eyes darted between you and DRAKEN, all cuddled up on your side of the booth. He was sipping his drink nonchalantly with you wrapped around his bicep, playing with his free hand while scrolling through social media. Both of you exchanged looks, him swallowing and your thumb stopping mid-scroll, then back at the confused blonde.

“Yeah.”

“Pretty much.” You chirped.

Inui heavily sighed. “Great. Means ‘m officially a third wheel. I’ll think twice before agreeing to hang out from now on. I’ve been traumatized enough when you were just on friendly terms. And I use that label lightly.”

Draken rolled his eyes. “Tsk. We were not that bad.”

“Need I remind you of the time I came into the shop earlier than normal, and you had them spread across the—Ngh!”

“Whoops. My foot slipped.” You coyly hummed, going back to scrolling. Inui’s brow twitched, reaching down to sooth his poor shin.

Draken snorted, face subtly flushed having remembered that day, vividly. It was one of the times you and your boy toy got into an argument; give you one guess about who. He cleared his throat, fist up to his lips to hide the growing smirk as Inui shot him a small glare, mouth opening to say more…until he’s loudly interrupted.

“You should’ve seen ‘em. I had that loser running for the hills!”

All three of you paused, exchanging looks of bewilderment. Peering over the booth you could see a group of guys entering the cafe, their leader instantly being recognized by both you and Draken; Takeru. You blinked in surprise, the two mechanics watching with mild interest as the boastful nuisance picked a nearby table, completely oblivious to the attention they've drawn. His friends appeared annoyed, groans leaving their lips as they slumped in their seats.

"Yeah, man, so you've said...for the hundredth time already." One had said, the other shaking his head.

"I still don't buy it. I mean, you, of all people, scaring off the Draken? No shot in hell."

Inui's eyes widened to the size of plates, you nearly choked on air whilst the forementioned man merely raised his eyebrow at the slander. Him? Running from that wet napkin? Damn straight no shot in hell. Takeru, on the other hand, was very adamant on the events being true.

He gave a smug laugh, sounding like a cartoon villain as he crossed his arms in triumph. "Well, you better believe it! I told him off for getting too friendly with [_____] and left him picking himself off the floor afterwards. It was light work."

His friends didn't look convinced in the slightest. "Mhm." "Sure, dude."

"I'm serious!"

Draken set his drink down, wry smirk growing on his face. He then cracked his neck and his knuckles as he readied himself for a much-deserved confrontation. Inui sighed, following suit as he rolled his shoulders back before standing. You sat up on your knees, whining at him as you tugged on his sleeve. "Don't kill him, Ken, I still need to get some of my things from his place..."

"I'll buy you new shit, doll." He said, gun-metal eyes hardening as he looked over at the other table. "'fraid I can't make any promises this time."

With Takeru facing the opposite direction, there was no way for him to notice the impending doom behind him. His friends, however, resemble deer in headlights at the sight of the six-foot-one and five-foot-ten approaching. Instantly recognizing the infamous dragon tattoo, they knew their friend's fate was about to be sealed. One gulped and the other merely closed his eyes in prayer.

Takeru tilted his head at them, brows furrowed. He opened his mouth to speak, only for a large hand to latch onto his shoulder and squeeze, rendering him speechless as pain racked through his body like red alerts across a screen. Draken leered over him like a blanket of death, wearing a sharp grin as he spoke venomously.

"Oi. Mr. Light Work. Why don’t you tell me and Inui here all about how you had me ‘running for the hills’ and ‘picking myself off the floor’. I seem to recall a different scenario, but hey, you can help jog my memory outside, yeah?"

When Makoto first opened his eyes after what felt like an eternal slumber, it took him a moment to gather his surroundinngs. The bright, cold lights on the ceiling. The crisp smell of lemon-scented disinfectant and latex. The rhythmic beating of his heart monitor.

Hospital. He was in the hospital.

With a few confused blinks and a groan, he wracked his brain to try and remember what happened that landed him in there. How long had it been? A day? A week? He wasn’t sure. But, he wouldn’t have to ponder long when his privacy curtain is pulled back to reveal his mother and a nurse. She gasped, flocking to his bedside with tears instantly flowing out of her face, kisses being showered on his bruises that instantly made him hiss in pain.

“Ngh-! M-Mom,” he rasped, struggling to lean away. The nurse, though nervously, advised against any sudden movements due to his weakened state.

“Ma’am, it may not be wise to overwhelm the patient so soon, he’s-”

She fixed the nurse with a hard glare, tears still streaming down her face, looking rather unhinged. “My husband doesn’t donate thousands of dollars to this hospital for you to give unsolicited advice. Do your job and get him something to eat.”

Bristled, the nurse bit her tongue before saying something she’d regret. With a small bow she excused herself, leaving just the two of them. Immediately, his mother went back to wailing about his injuries, asking him a million questions, whilst cursing about his ‘no-good significant other for getting him into trouble’—

“Wait, wait, wait. What did you say?”

“Hm? Oh, that [_____]. I told you they were no good, just based on their lack of decorum and who they associate with, it was bound to have you end up in the hospital, or worse. Thank God they agreed to leave you for good after this because I don’t know what I would’ve done if-”

“What did they say happened?” Makoto asked, exasperated.

His mother blinked, then burst into tears once more. “Oh, no! My poor baby has amnesia! Nurse! Nurse!”

“Mother!” He exclaimed, latching onto her sleeve before she could cause more of a scene. “Tell me what [_____] told you!”

“Honey, they said you got into fight trying to protect them from a mugging.”

Makoto froze. Then, with the speed of a man on fire, tossed the thin, scratchy blankets off to the side and jumped out of bed. Nearly giving his mother a heart attack, her nagging fell upon deaf ears as he made a beeline for his things gathered in a chair sitting in the corner, immediately searching for his phone. Upon finding the device, his sourtude only worsened when he saw there were no missed calls, no texts, no nothing from you.

He began blowing up your phone, but to no avail. Went straight to voicemail every time. Minutes passed, and Makoto grew increasingly more irritated to where one could see steam emitting from his ears. His mother continued pestering him, and soon the nurse came back with a tray of food, shocked to see him out of bed and joining the pestering, of which turned into the both of them arguing once more. But he paid them no mind, too busy delving into white hot hatred, ready to sign a deal with the devil himself if it meant you and that BAJI paid for humiliating him.

Just as he was about to dial again, there's a knock at the door.

The nurse and his mother pause their back and forth, looking over at the doorway to see a boy with dual-toned hair and a dangly earring. He gave a small grin, but his eyes practically pierced through Makoto. He didn't recognize the visitor, but judging based on his tatted neck and unsettling aura, he knew it couldn't mean anything good.

"Excuse me," his mother soon broke the silence. "I believe you have the wrong room."

"Oh, no, I have the right room. My name's Kazutora. I'm a friend of [_____]'s."

Makoto's eyes widened. He thrusted an accusatory finger at him, "N-No, I know you! Y-You're that felon, you work at that pet store with that psycho who attacked me, Keisuke Baji!"

Kazutora tilted his head. "Hm? Baji didn't attack you. You were knocked out cold by a thief. [_____] called him to help bring you all the way here-"

"There wasn't any mugging! I was assaulted by that thug in [______]'s apartment!"

"What?!" His mother screeched. Kazutora merely shook his head.

"Mm, no, I think you're mistaken. Baji was at the shop when [_____] called him. They're both at the police station right now giving their statement. They sent me here to check in on you." Kazutora lied effortlessly through his teeth, stare unwavering as he gaslit everyone in the room. "Clearly you hit your head pretty hard, man. Maybe you should lie back down. You aren't thinking straight."

Makoto floundered, gesturing wildly. "HE'S FUCKING LYING!"

His mother and the nurse didn't make the situation any better, cornering him and ushering him back to bed. Even though he struggled, there was no stopping the strength of an overworked, underpaid nurse as she slammed him down onto the bed, wrestling with him for a moment until she secured him with his mother's help, tucking him in tightly within the blankets. His mother fawned over him, combing through his hair, being careful of the bandages. Tears welled up in her eyes again, thinking that her son had gone hysterical. "My poor baby..."

"No, mother, you don't understand! You need to call our attorneys right now, c-call the police! That b-bastard's trying to make me sound crazy!"

"Maybe some morphine will help calm him down." Kazutora casually commented to the nurse. She grunted in agreement, worn out from dealing with the both of them as she left to prepare a heavy dosage.

He continued to shout in protest, all the way up until the nurse stuck him with the morphine. He tried to fight against it, but it was no use. And the last thing he could comprehend before the world faded to black was the hazy outline of Kazutora, approaching his bed as he leaned down to whisper a parting threat.

"Don’t try anything stupid. We know where you live."

—

Baji's phone vibrated, causing him to groan as he turned to squint at the offending device. With you fucked out, laid out, and passed out in his arms, he wanted nothing more to ignore whatever asshole was texting him. But, upon further inspection, it was his favorite asshole sending him an update on his little problem.

from : tora 9:09pm “ 👍. ”

He grinned, sharply. After locking his phone and setting it back on the nightstand, he tugged you closer to his side, exhaling deeply in satisfaction. He'll be sure to visit the 'brave hero' tomorrow. May even bring Patches.

He wished he had a camera to capture the look on your boyfriend’s face right now.

When Haji came over to apologize for his behavior yesterday, flowers in his hand and everything, MITSUYA was the last thing he expected to see. Said lavender-haired delinquent looked him up and down, disinterest coloring his expression as he leaned against the doorframe, shirtless, mind you. It didn't take Haji long to notice the assortment of hickies painted across his pale torso, all the way down to his pelvis visible in his low-hanging joggers.

Haji could feel bile rise in the back of his throat. Anger soon bubbled right after.

But, before he could even think to spew out threats, Mitsuya reeled his arm back and with the strength of God himself landed one crack right between Haji's eyes, sending him and the flowers flying backward, right off the stoop. He landed with a sickening thud to the pavement, flowers spreading haphazardly as some fluttered in the air until they eventually landed on the ground. Mitsuya shook out his knuckles, turned on his heel to grab the couple of boxes sitting near the doorway, filled with some of Haji’s stuff. He tossed them out the door to land right by his unconscious body, dusting off his hands before heading back inside, slamming the door right behind him.

Like he said. He only needed one.

#🍁wasabi #*rings bell* KNOCKOUT #tokyorev #tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #tokyo rev #tr smut #tokyorev smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev scenarios #tokyorev headcanons #tokyorev imagines #mikey #baji #mitsuya #draken

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thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos · 5 months ago

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@the-cauldron-witch

THIS IS HILARIOUS

I think a really underrated trope is "character gets shrunk to adorable size and hijinks ensue," and I especially want to see this used in the 2003 iteration of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Picture this: Leonardo, either through some villain of the week, freak accident, or alien technology, gets shrunk down to roughly the size of a Barbie doll.

Donatello calls Raphael and Michelangelo into his laboratory, looking all grim and serious. The absence of their eldest brother has the younger two convinced that something horrible has happened.

Raphael: [bursts in, all worried] Donny, what the shell happened? Where's Leo?!

Michelangelo: [close on his heels, equally concerned] Yeah, where's Leo? Did something happen?

Donatello: [holding up his hands to calm them] Yes, but it’s not what you think! He’s fine. He's just... gone through a bit of a change.

Raphael: [squints] What kind of change?

Donatello: [sighs] Now, I’m going to bring him out, and you two better be on your best behavior. No laughing—this is serious.

Raphael: [crosses arms, suspicious] Serious how?

Donatello gives them a look that screams, "You'll see." He reaches under the table, carefully picks up something (or rather, someone), and gently sets Leonardo down on the table. Leonardo—now barely the height of a Barbie doll—straightens his gear and adjusts his mask, trying desperately to maintain his dignity.

Raphael: [silent, staring] ...

Michelangelo: [jaw drops] ...

Raphael: [deadpan, trying not to laugh] ...I’m not supposed to laugh, right?

Michelangelo: [slowly grins] He...is...so...AWESOME! Dude, he’s like the ultimate, super-realistic action figure! [jumps excitedly] Let me hold him! Let me hold him! Please, just for a minute!

Leonardo: [scrambles to climb up Donatello’s arm, in full panic mode] DO NOT let him hold me! DO NOT let him hold me!

#i’m screeching #you’re so fucking funny oh my god #leo in a hamster ball rolling around the lair #tiny screams as he rolls away from mikey #who just realized it’s the same size as a soccer ball #tmnt 2003 #tmnt shenanigans

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eempyreall · 14 days ago

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♪𝑂𝑏𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑏𝑦 𝑀𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑅𝑜𝑠𝑒♪

༺ The Past Follows ༻

Oneshot ~ Tokyo Revengers x Female Reader

Summary ~ You must pay your dues for leaving them.

Featuring ~ Sano Manjiro and Kurokawa Izana

This story should only be posted under eempyreall on my tumblr and ao3. Report if you see it posted under anyone else but me.

l apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Warning ~

You and the characters are 21+. Although I picture the reader as a black cis-gendered female, physical appearance will not be described at all.

Content within this story may not be realistic or factual.

I do not condone any of the behavior displayed within the story.

There may be dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit content, sexual content, non consensual and/or dubious consensual content, etc.

That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

“What is this?” You breathe out.

Your arms are tightened to your sides as your head hangs low. The rope wrapped around your upper body embeds into your skin—a bruised hue forming from its unyielding grip.

You sluggishly pull against the metal cuffs that keep your wrists constricted together. You huff in frustration as you drop your hands against your lap. Your knees are pressed together, your bare feet planted against the cemented, wet floor.

Your naked body trembles against the metal chair, your figure soaked with cold water dripping off your skin.

“WHAT IS THIS?!” you screech as you violently shake against the restraints.

You had been forced awake by a large wave of water. You search the spacious, dark room for the culprit. A flickering bulb is your only source of light.

You are confused by your surroundings. Questions appear in the space of your mind as your emotions become a chaotic swirl of anxiety and anger. Humiliation burns at the way you are forced to present yourself in this unknown setting.

The sound of footsteps grows louder the closer they get to your shivering form. They are slow, the figure taking their time to appear in front of your naked body.

The only sounds prominent are the slow footsteps echoing toward your shivering form and your ragged breathing. Your eyes widen as black shoes appear in your vision.

“Still drowning within your own rage, I see.”

That voice.

Your irises shift to the familiar male who has exposed his presence to you. Sharp eyes meet your gaze as your bewildered expression drops to a scowl. A grin stretches across the tanned male’s face, his arms hidden behind his back.

“Izana,” you hiss, hatred seething from your tone as you glare at the man. “Let me go, now.”

Fingers snatch your chin in a tight hold before his upper body bends down to your height. The corners of his mouth are still shaped upward, but you are familiar with the darkness that lurks under his guise.

“You’re the one tied down to a chair, and yet you think you can demand me to do anything?” he questions, bitterness dripping from his tone.

He releases his hold by shoving your face to the side before taking a step back.

You scoff as you watch him wipe the moisture off on his uniform.

“Why am I here? You already won. What else do you want?!” you exclaim in frustration.

“What else do I want?” he whispers to himself in mock contemplation, finger and thumb connecting with his chin. “Tell me, Y/n. What did I win?”

“Mikey, I can’t do this anymore,” you inform the blonde man who sits on the sofa in your living room with an arm slung over his propped knee.

His dark eyes shift to your own. You find the icy gaze as unrecognizable as the behavior you have recently witnessed.

“You’ve become a person that I want nothing to do with. You allowed your brother to change you.”

“What are you talking about?” he responds calmly, his expression unreadable.

“Ever since Izana came into the picture, you’ve become a completely different person. You cut off all our friends, you’ve associated yourself with the wrong crowd, and you’ve sunk deeper into the gang world. You’re dangerous, and I want no part of it,” you respond, your voice shaky as you ignore the lump in your throat.

You wonder what happened to your high school sweetheart. You understand that when people hit a certain age, a lot can change. However, this was not a normal condition.

Mikey has become cold, void of any emotions. He’s getting to know people who are associates of various drug cartels. You even overheard a conversation between him and Izana that indicated he has killed people recently. You can’t be involved with a murderer, no matter how much you care about him.

You knew that Izana was bad news when you first met him. He's always had a suspicious look to him. He was very secretive, snakelike as he slithered into your life.

The last straw was when you were completely drunk. The bedroom was pitch black. You thought you were making love to Mikey, but when you woke up the next day, you saw who the culprit was. Izana stood across from your sleeping form with a bare chest, leaning against your dresser. The smug look on his expression made you want to stab him.

You screamed, shouting and hitting him before rushing out of the room. You felt sick, violated. You wanted to scrub your skin raw.

When you told Mikey, you couldn't believe how indifferent he was to the situation. You could only stare at him in disbelief after he said, "Okay."

You questioned him and his sanity. You ranted about how crazy his brother is. You told him how Izana violated your boundaries and deceived you. You even grabbed Mikey's shoulders and shook him, tears streaming down your face in anger.

He only removed your hands before turning away. You watched as he walked out of the front door.

"He gave me permission, you know," Izana said from behind you. Your eyes widened as you turned back to him.

You didn't respond, staring into the empty space once Izana had walked back to the bedroom. For some reason, you believed him.

You knew you had lost Mikey. The man you had been with for years, since you were both in your youth, was a completely different person. This man... this man was sick.

Before you could walk off, your wrist was snatched, pulling you closer to the blonde.

The palms of his hands grasped your face as he held you with a look of intensity, desperation seeping through his words.

"I thought you loved me," he whispered, his pupils shrinking.

Your hands grabbed onto the back of his as you squeezed his skin.

"You let him violate me!" you cried. "You let him take you away from me! You allowed him to destroy everything we built-!"

"You don't know what you're fucking talking about," he growled with a scowl before throwing you back and releasing your face.

"You're sick, Manjiro! You need fucking help," you yell back, catching your balance after stumbling.

"Y/n..."

You watched as he sat on the couch, his back bent as he leaned over his legs.

"If you leave me..."

Your eyes widened, his expression blocked by the strands of hair covering his face as he eyed the floor.

He lifted his head, the look in his dark eyes penetrating your soul.

"I'll kill you."

"Don't fucking play stupid with me, Izana," you say through gritted teeth as you struggle against the restraints.

"Such choice words for someone who's tied to a chair," he chuckles, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Another pair of footsteps captures your attention as you look in the direction of a figure emerging from the darkness. You gasp when your eyes land on the man with slicked-back blonde hair.

"Mikey?"

The sound of a gun cocking echoes throughout the room as the barrel of the weapon presses against your head. Your eyes widen at the unfortunate circumstance.

"Guess you should've listened to his warning, hm? Running away with your tail between your legs wasn't such a good idea," Izana beams, while Mikey stares down at you with an expressionless gaze.

You feel your heart accelerating, the rhythmic thumps pounding in your ears. You take a deep breath and shut your eyes as you wait in anticipation.

"You're always so ready to disappear. You're not even trying to fight for your life."

Mikey's deep voice catches you off guard, and you open your eyes. You look up at him with a teary gaze.

"What's the point? You're fulfilling the promise you made," you say lowly, your voice shaky.

He only stares down at you in silence.

"Fortunately, we have a proposition for you, Y/n," Izana says as he walks closer to your figure.

You suddenly feel exposed under both pairs of eyes as you are forced to sit naked in place.

"Be ours..."

"..Or die."

“M—Mikey, please slow down!” You plead as tears stream down your face, the headboard rocking against the wall at a fast pace.

You hear deep breathing near your shoulder as you feel moisture form on your neck. You listen to his cries as his hips pistoned against yours. You could barely breathe as his arms tightened around your upper body, his cock penetrating your gushing pussy.

Your hands reach his shoulders as he pulls back, knees repositioning against the bed as his hands grasp your face. You stare wide-eyed at his teary gaze. His forehead pressed against yours as he thrusts harder, your eyes almost rolling in the back of your head as you feel the overwhelming intrusion.

“You left me,” he whispered, causing guilt to build in your chest.

“Y—you know I had to, M—Mikey,” you grunt.

“My name, Y/n. I wanna hear you say my name,” he groaned while his nails pierced your face, his grip tightening.

“M—Manjiro! Please slow down,” you cried.

“This is a result of his sorrow festering while you were gone. You should take responsibility,” Izana said as he climbed onto the bed.

Mikey’s hands release your face as he pulls your body up by your thighs, causing you to yelp in surprise. You grunt as Mikey detached his cock from you, passing you to Izana as tanned fingers grip under your thighs.

“Hold on! I never agreed to this!” You exclaim, your hands placed on Mikey’s shoulders for balance.

“Shut up and take your punishment,” Izana hissed near your ear just as the tip of his cock pierced your anal opening. You cry in agony as it stretches you uncomfortably.

“P—please, Izana!”

He pulls both of you back as he lies on the bed, lifting his hips to fit snugly into your ass. Mikey climbs in between your legs once more, leaning over your figure as he pressed himself against your vagina. You bite your bottom lip with your nose scrunched, eyes shut tightly as you breathe through the pressure from both of your inner walls.

Moments later, you couldn’t stop the cries that slipped from your mouth. The head of your former boyfriend’s cock beating against your g-spot, combining with the fullness of his brother’s cock protruding your ass. You curse as your eyes roll into the back of your head, saliva sliding down your chin as Izana whispers filthy words into your ear and Mikey gazes at you with lust-filled eyes.

Your body jolts as you release a gut clenching orgasm, your inner walls clenching around both men, causing them to fill you up with their semen, final grunts slipping from their mouths.

For the rest of the night, there wasn’t a moment for you to breathe. They fucked you, mercilessly. They used your body even when you were knocked out. They used you even when you woke back up. Mikey fucked his anger and sorrow into you. Izana fucked his frustration and anger into you.

Even when the men went to clean up in the shower, they fucked into your weak body. It was a clear message. A message of pure dominance. You knew that there would be no running away this time.

You’ve always known that the past would eventually catch up to you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x female reader #sano mikey manjiro #sano manjiro x reader #izana kurokawa #izana x reader #eetherealgoddesss #eetherealgoddess #eempyreall

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heartfullofleeches · 1 month ago

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I Wanna Shoplift sh*t from W*lmart with You

(Title Inspo - 8 Now by Food House)

Shy Male Yan + G.N "Bad Influence" Reader

Content: Shoplifting, small mention of weed. One slightly suggestive scene if you squint, but mostly SFW.

The pungent smell of freshly bleached tile. Children screaming up and down isles, guardians mysteriously void from sight. This store...

Is heaven.

"Whatcha think about this one, Mikey?"

Mischievous laughter is all it takes to drown out the screeches. The aroma of your body wash wafts off you from the close proximity, permeating his nostrils as he squeezes ever so closer to you in that secluded neck of the fashion department - accessories spread across the back wall as far as the eye could see.

"Well?" The light shake of your wrist yanks him back to attention; gems decorating the belt dangling from your grasp clicking against the beaded bracelet your partner in crime had made for you some months prior. It warms his heart to see it on your possession to this day.

"These rhinestones match pretty well with your highlights, don't you agree."

"I... I guess so..." Timid fingers course through the lilac streaks in his hair. You're so thoughtful to point out the little details like that.

"I'd love to buy it for you as an early birthday gift, but I don't get paid till the end of the week."

Micheal would offer to pay for it himself- You wouldn't even have to pay him back since he knows how tight you are on cash between checks. He walked into this store knowing full well of your end goals. The sliver of intimacy was all he needed to keep his wallet in pocket - right next to the handful of candy bars you had already deposited into his jeans.

Riding the high of your petty crimes, your smile falls as heavy footsteps pelt the isle floor. Your voice drops to a hushed whisper as you drag your friend in by his collar.

"Shit. Security guard, five o'clock. Act natural."

Micheal freezes in place- His entire body locks up, beads of sweat trickling from his rigid face. Stiff as a plank of wood, his frail figure melts at the soft stroke of your knuckles against his cheekbones.

"Babe- Stop. We're in public, we can't do that here."

Your hands crawl down to his waist, pulling him in as far as your bodies would physically allow as you slip the tip of the belt through the first loop in his pants. Mikey's grateful for the candy in his pockets as they draw notice away from the other mound in his jeans, swelling as you grip his thigh to hold him still. His eyes wander over his shoulder, further distracting himself from the issue.

The security guard half-heartedly scans the area, locking eyes with Micheal for a flicker of a second. Panicking, his hand slams against the vacant wall behind you, pinning you in place as he leans in - lips inches from your own.

"What can I say? Y-you're impossible to resist."

The guard grimaces, mumbling something beneath his breath as he marches off to another section of the store. Time stills for Michael as he stands over you- Gazing into your eyes, breathing the air you exhale. His eyelids flutter shut, lips tingling from the desire pumping through his bloodstream.

"Aaaaand, done! Good thinking pushing me against this wall, Mikey!"

"Wha?... oh...." Michael lifts his baggy shirt, the belt strapped tightly around his waist.

"Y-yeah, no problem."

"Hey, you still got that dab pen I gave you the other day?"

Of course he does- If he tries hard enough, he can almost taste you on it.

"Yeah... Why?"

"I bought a new cartridge with the money you let me borrow the other night. Let's go back to my place and have a little fun, okay?"

Micheal's certain the type of "fun" you have in mind differences from his own, but the idea of getting high as a kite and reaping the day's spoils is the second best ending to an outing with you.

"There's a shopping cart over there- Hop in, and I'll wheel you outside!"

Grabbing your best friend's hand, the world regains that lustrous tint Michael can only step through when he's by your side. Curling his fingers around yours, he'd let you drag him to the ends of the earth if you so wished.

Prison or the unknown, as long as you were there - he'd follow.

#Maus my oc #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere #yandere oc #yandere male #soft yandere #yandere x reader

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imababblekat · 10 months ago

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Ways The TmnT Boy's Annoy Their S/O; Hc's

Anon request, "hello I love your work and I hope you are well I wanted to ask you for a fic with the turtles and a fem!reader, about things they do to jokingly annoy their girlfriend because its funny for them. <3"

~xXx~

Leonardo:

Leo doesn't normally try to annoy his s/o, but occasionally he does feel a bit cheeky and decides to pester them if they're in a decent mood

the thing he does most often in these small occurrences is randomly poke at their side, and when they ask what he needs he'll pretend to not know what he just did

loves doing it if they're working at something and he's wanting attention

you know that thing dad's do where they pretend to lick their hand and then try to gross you out by putting said hand in your space? well he does that too

will chase his s/o around either the lair or their place, mischievously grinning as they run away screeching at him to not even dare!

Leo never pushes his s/o past annoyance, and will always end his shenanigans with gentle laughter and apology kisses

Raphael:

this man has messed with his s/o before they were even his s/o; he knows all the right buttons to push and to what limit as to not go so far as to actually anger them

he can't help it, it's so adorable how they get all red and puffed up when he mildly irritates them

absolutely calls his s/o shorty and other ridiculous nicknames when he's being a butt

his favorite thing to do that always gets his s/o rolling their eyes is when they ask him for help with something such as opening a pickle jar, and he dramatically flexes his muscles while wagging his brow, stating that if they wanted to see him at work, all they had to do was ask

will also purposely man spread where ever they're seated so his s/o is basically forced to sit either between his lap or on it

Raphaels messing around is always in good fun, and he knows when enough is enough, even if your death glare is the cutest thing he's ever seen

Donatello:

his favorite way of annoying his s/o is honestly so adorable that it's hard for his s/o to stay mad about it for very long

his s/o will ask him for something like a snack, and before they can grab it from his hand he quickly holds it up above his head

will wink and state they have to pay the bae toll first, and despite all their groaning, his s/o will tip toe to give him a sweet kiss

will sometimes place things in a high place so his s/o has to ask him to get it, but more often than not they know he purposely placed it there and will try to jungle gym their way up to get it

he'll stand to the side with a smug smirk and ask them if they're sure they don't need his help, finding their determination to get whatever object themselves very adorable

whether or not they say yes, he's always read to catch them if they happen to slip or fall, in which case he'll hold off on putting their stuff high up for a while

Michelangelo:

most the time when he feels like annoying his s/o it's because he's either bored, wants attention, or both

his favorite way of doing so is playing the "gravity game", much to his s/o's dismay

Mikey will locate his s/o to find them keeling over some work that can honestly wait a day or two to be done, and if he can't bribe them to step away for a break with cuddles, he'll let out the biggest sigh, an indication of what he's got planned

his s/o will shoot him a knowing glare and tell him he better not, but it's too late, Mikey has already trudged his way over to where they're seated or standing and groans loudly about how heavy the Earth is, practically leaning all of his weight onto his flustered s/o

won't put his entire weight into it because he obviously doesn't want to crush them, but Mikey also won't let up till his s/o agrees to finally take a break and spend some time with him, to which he will act victorious and act suddenly weightless as he practically floats off with his blushing s/o for some quality time

~xXx~

#bayverse leo x reader #bayverse leonardo x reader #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse raphael x reader #bayverse donatello x reader #bayverse donnie x reader #bayverse mikey x reader #bayverse michelangelo x reader #bayverse tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt #aged up tmnt #anon request #imababblekat's writing

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goobbgoober · 4 months ago

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Everybody always talks about Mace's laugh (valid) but I absolutely love Mikey and Andy's laughter, it's so chaotic, it makes me so happy. The screeches are the best. Richie does it too sometimes, but he's never as loud as the other two. I just love the genuine laughter.

#legends of avantris #once upon a witchlight #icebound #edge of midnight #stardust rhapsody #uprooted

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redsrooftopprincess · 8 days ago

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Hey so how do you think raphael would deal with a s/o who goes all out for holidays. And also they tend to throw flirty seasonal comments at him. Trying to fluster him every single time. Valentine: “I think cupid might of struck me hard years ago when I laid mine eyes on you”. Halloween they’re a vampire “the only one I want to turn into a vampire is you ;)” and xmas they’re like “All I want for xmas is you”? Or mistletoe is on the ceiling above them suddenly and s/o is like “How’d that get there?” Nearly convincingly. 😂?

Hi there!!! I'm really hoping this turned out okay. 😅

Valentine

RaphaelxFem!reader

Warnings: none, pure fluff

He arrives to an empty apartment. It's only 7, so you're probably still on your way home from work. He heads to the kitchen and grabs a beer from the fridge, before moving toward the couch to waste time with video games while he waits for you.

As he crosses to the living room, he hears keys in the lock and moves casually out of sight of the door. It explodes open with almost pressurized force, pushed by the enormous collection of plastic shopping bags barely contained by the arms in your fluffy red sweater. You kick the door closed behind you and he's taking the bags from you almost instantly.

"Okay!" you grin, striking a pose as he sets the mountain of bags onto the kitchen table, "I'm here! Now what were your other two wishes?" He rolls his eyes and sighs, but he can't help the quirk of a smile. You're adorable. And he has to admit, you look damn good in his color.

You have a... thing for holidays. You honestly love any excuse to dress up and be silly. It doesn't hurt that it usually earns you a laugh from a certain red-banded bara who is so very pretty when he laughed. You only met a few months ago, but so far, over Samhain, Thanksgiving, and Solstice, he's thankfully gotten used to you going a *little* over the top.

Somehow (surely not all the decorations at your desk and themed outfits over the last year), your co-workers have also figured out how much you love holidays, and when they approached you about taking charge of their "Valentine's Day Luncheon," you were more than happy to oblige.

Now you survey the collection of red and white and pink in plastic before you, your mind whirring with potential. You'd asked Raph to come over on his night off because you had an excuse you needed help, and he was pretty hot handy with a glue gun.

After giving him a run down of everything in the bags, along with your "vision" as he liked to call it (complete with sarcastic hand gesture), you each grab an armful of craft supplies, and move into the living room to get to work. He clears off the coffee table while you order dinner, and soon the two of you are elbow deep in pink glitter and construction paper.

Everything starts out well enough. The drinks and creativity flow and your favorite romantic comedy plays unobtrusively in the background as you eat and laugh between cutting and pasting. You feel good. Valentine's Day may be tomorrow, but tomorrow is in about three hours and you're going to get to spend your first Valentine's Day (at least part of it anyway) with a guy you actually may be falling for and-

Your stream of consciousness comes to a screeching halt, the needle in your hand stilling halfway through the felt plush heart you had been sewing. You look over at him, telling some story about Mikey and Don when they were kids, and you definitely feel... something. But love, that kind of love, is big. Important. Especially for the Hamatos. Seeming so far out of reach for them they may as well be alone on the planet. This isn't the kind of thing you should even joke about until you're absolutely sure.

But it's Valentine's Day.

And wine is happening.

And as the night goes on, your heart and your tongue form an alliance against your brain.

Over the course of the evening you develop a habit of calling him anything *but* his name, and the way words like "Hot Stuff" "Romeo," and "Heartbreaker," roll off your tongue affects him in ways that are not allowed. He's fine. A deep breath and he's back to being cool. But the spark of trouble in your eyes when you call him, "Bruiser," leaves him needing a minute.

You see it. You can't help it. He's hot, and you're single, and it's Valentine's Day, and it seems like he can't get enough of you, and you are about half a bottle in. You start shooting the occasional cheesy pick up line his way, just to see what'll happen. And you are not disappointed.

Mike had subjected him to months worth of shitty pick up lines when he discovered them as kids, but you're so damn cute that they just come out silly and endearing.

"Hey," you call over to him across the living room, "do you like raisins?"

He looks confused, "I guess?"

"How 'bout a date?" You grin.

He rolls his eyes, but the adorable smile and slight color shift in his scales as he looks away is just addicting. With that kind of reaction, the wine in your bloodstream reasons, how the hell are you supposed to stop?

So, between the beer, and the constant back and forth between him thinking you're adorable, and him trying really really hard not to think about what those pet names coming out of that pretty mouth are doing to him physically, halfway through the night he was almost regretting agreeing to help you.

But then, it does stop.

He doesn't know when, through the haze of mild inebriation, and physical and emotional turmoil it's difficult for him to track, but at some point he notices the stupid pick up lines become less frequent, and the pet names become more and more tame until they almost stop completely.

He looks over at you, jaw tight, glaring at the felt plush heart in your hands. You had to make 120, this was your second one, Raph was already sixteen in, and the tangled mess of twisted pink thread was beyond unraveling.

You sigh, frustrated, "Raph, can you toss me the scissors?"

Sewing isn't exactly your forte. It's not that you don't get the mechanics of it: needle + thread + fabric = thing. As long as you can move in a straight line and you don't stab the shit out of yourself it should be easy right? But your hands are uncoordinated and sewing machines can smell fear. You've tried. You just can't sew. Why you decided that *this* was what is needed for the party tomorrow, you will never understand. You thought it'd be easy. It was supposed to be easy.

He stares at you for a few moments, brow knitted in thought as he takes in what's happening. "Having trouble, princess?" He asks. He smirks, but not unkindly.

"Huh? Oh yeah, I guess..." You respond, taking the scissors from him and attempting to carefully cut through the tangled mass to remove it... which results in you cutting a quarter inch whole through both layers of felt. Your jaw tightens, and you sigh heavily. "I can't sew," you admit, almost shamefully.

He makes a face, "What do you mean you 'can't sew?'"

You sigh, tossing the ruined decoration into the plastic bag the two of you have been using for trash, "I mean I can't sew."

"Anyone can sew," He states, as if it's an objective fact.

You attempt not to snort derisively. You fail.

"You really don't think you can sew?"

You look pointedly at the ruined heart, before looking back at him and wordlessly raising an eyebrow.

Disengaging, you snatch another couple of felt pieces and some pink thread off the coffee table and settle back into your spot in the papasan. He watches as you try and fail to thread the needle. Three times.

You're embarrassed. And frustrated. This is supposed to be your favorite holiday and you're spending it fighting with a stupid needle and looking like an idiot in front of the guy you... something-like-love-...-maybe, and you're so stuck in your own head, you don't notice that he's moved until he's kneeling in front of you and stilling your hands.

He holds up a small metal disk. It looks slightly like a custom made swiss army knife, that has Donnie written all over it. He pushes a lever and a wire... loop? I guess? Pops out of it. You look at him quizzically.

"May I?" He asks, holding his hands out. He takes the needle and thread upon your acceptance. He flicks a small lever and a small pair of scissor pops out of the other side, which he uses to snip off the frayed two inches of embroidery thread. He dexterously replaces the scissors, and, holding the needle, you watch him push the wire through the hole, feed the thread through, and then pull it back out, the needle now neatly threaded.

You blink up at him. He smiles, holding up the disk, "Needle threader," he tosses it in your lap, "your new best friend."

You give him a stunned half smile and start working on your second heart for the second time.

Your not sure how, but somewhere between the first and the fifth stitch, your thread twists and knots itself, resulting in a smaller version of your previous tangle. He cringes.

"Y'know... I could teach you," he ventures hesitantly, "if you want, I mean."

You pick up the disc in your lap and examine it. A specialized tool that Red just happened to have on him, despite him having no idea what fresh insanity you had planned for tonight. Needles, thread bobbins, and several other things you don't recognize, all easily accessible and deployable. The kind of tool you don't have unless you do something very specific. Your frustrated gaze becomes more thoughtful.

"Do you make all your clothes?" You ask, softly, the ghost of a smile hiding in the corner of your mouth as you look back up at him.

The shift in tone catches him off-guard, and when your gaze finds his, it feels like all the breath has left his body. "Well, yeah..." He says, almost transfixed, before clearing his throat and recovering with a smirk, "you really think they make clothes in our size?"

"No," you say, your smile slightly resurrected, "no, I suppose they don't." You look down at the felt in your hands, and it dies again, "I'm afraid you may have your work cut out for you. A lot of people have failed to teach me to sew. I'm pretty sure I'm a lost cause."

"Bullshit," he says, pushing the coffee table back far enough that he can sit in front of you.

After twenty minutes of neat and simple failure, you drop the heart in your lap and cover your face with your hands. "This is hopeless. I can't make the needle do," you gesture vaguely, "whatever it is that you're doing to make this work. We need to pivot," you start looking around at what craft supplies are left, your mind trying to find something you could make as a replacement.

"No."

"What?" Your eyes return to his.

"Excuse me," he clears his throat, "Hell no."

You look confused.

"I said I was gonna teach you to sew, and that's exactly what I'm gonna do if it takes all damn night."

"Raph, it's 11:30, we are out of time for that. We need something easier."

"Please, I can knock these out by myself in an hour, this is more important." He gently places a hand on your knee, and you try to ignore the way it covers nearly half your thigh, "If you want to learn, I want to teach you," he says softly. "But only if you want." He adds, backing off slightly, afraid he might be pushing too hard.

"Look," he continues, "after D, you're probably one of the smartest people I know. So, while it's really cute watching you struggle this hard at something for once," he smirks when you glare at him, "it seems like this really bothers you, and if I can, I want to help."

Okay, this is not helping your little something-like-love situation *at all*.

"Though, I'll admit, there might be a tiny part of me that would, selfishly, really like to show off teach you something that I'm really good at I really enjoy." He gives you what he hopes is his most convincing smile. He doesn't often get to flex outside of the weight room.

You're hesitant. You really *really* don't want to look like any more of an idiot in front of Raphael, and you have zero confidence that this will do anything more than frustrate the both of you, but you can see the poorly concealed hopeful excitement in his eyes, and, Fuck, how is he so damn cute?

"Okay, fine," you relent with a sigh.

"Cool," he says, standing and trying not to grin. He grabs a stack of felt hearts and some thread from the table. "Would you be cool with me sitting behind you? It'll easier to see what you're doing from there."

It's a move he almost immediately regrets when you nod and he settles himself behind you on the papasan. You're close, very close, and he's been drinking. He tries desperately to focus as you command the attention of all his senses. Your warmth radiates through his plastron, and the shape of the chair traps your scent around him. He wills his hands to stay right where they are, as you settle against him.

It's... difficult. He tries talking you through everything, but somehow it isn't translating to your stupid hands. He can feel it, your body almost as curved and rigid as his own carapace with tension. He puts a hand on your arm. "You're pulling too tight. Here," he rumbles into your ear, his rough hands gentle as they move down your arms to your own, "like this." You hope he doesn't notice the gooseflesh that has scattered over your skin.

Over the next half-hour, he guides you through the motions, your small hands moving within his own, and it isn't long before the two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm. It starts to feel less like your fighting with the damn thing and more like you're actually capable of handling this, your smile even claws it's way out of it's grave a little.

About fifteen minutes in you start to notice something. A sound or a feeling, you can't quite figure out which, seeming to envelope you. It takes a good few minutes before you realize... It's him.

Donatello told you about this. You heard it once in the lab when Don had been tinkering, contentedly, with a new graphics card for a good while. He seemed embarrassed when you asked, but he explained, very clinically, what it was and why it was happenings.

He called it a "churr," and explained that it's something involuntary that happens when they're content, or happy, or excited, or pissed. Similar to a growl or a purr. (The squeal you had to contain when you found out they purr luckily only came out as a quiet squeak. Don gave you a look.)

And now it's surrounding you. Vibrating against your spine and down your arms. He seems to not even realize it's happening. You suppress a smile. You consider saying something, but your worried he'll get embarrassed and stop. He's pretty sensitive about the non-human parts of his life, so you instead choose to just shut up and enjoy the fact that he's evidently enjoying his time with you.

And he is. It's the first time the thought of Valentine's Day doesn't entirely leave a bitter taste in his mouth. Normally, he wouldn't even leave the lair today, but you'd asked him to come over and help with decorations, and he stupidly agreed. It was you. Of course he was going to say yes. And, honestly, it isn't as painful as he thought it was going to be. You're hot, and fun, and if his terminally single ass is going to do anything other than sulk on Valentine's Day. This ain't half bad.

Once you seem to have the hang of things, you both start working as individuals, though neither of you move far from your positions. That's when he notices it, too, in a lull in conversation, a deep rumble from within his chest. He shifts in the chair, uncomfortably, and clears his throat in hopes that it'll stop, or at least interrupt the involuntary process. But, no. He's not that lucky. Maybe if he just pretends it isn't happening. You don't seem to have noticed yet.

He continues on as if nothing is going on, and eventually settles back into a comfortable rhythm. The mild embarrassment remains, but overall if you don't mention it, maybe it doesn't bother you? You've never really flinched at his weird turtle shit, and maybe this is no different. By 3:30, all 120 hearts have been completed, and his churring has faded almost into white noise.

You steel yourself and sigh internally. You don't want to. You really don't want to. But you have to be at work in five hours, so you stand, yawning. "Okay," you grin, stretching, "thanks for the help, now get the fuck out."

He gets up and tosses the last heart onto the pile, grinning, "Well, shit, how's that for gratitude?" Tonight was a good night.

After a few minutes of both of you finding any reason to stall, you run out of them, and he makes his way out to the fire escape. Speaking, crouched, through the window, he's at eye level, and you kiss his cheek, softly, "Thank you," you say sincerely.

He tries to play it cool, but the hunter green stripes down the lines of his throat darken just a little, and his smirk shifts into something just a bit more bashful.

Gods damn it, this boyish fucking asshole.

"Hey," you say before he can run off, "so, um, it's Valentine's Day, and I'll be getting out of work after sundown tonight, so..." Play it cool, damn it. "You know, there's probably going to be a lot of creeps out, and-"

"I can walk you home," he interrupts a little too eagerly, his stripes darkening further, "uh, if you want, I mean. I'm not saying you couldn't handle some creeps on your own, I just, uh..." He laughs, nervously as he trails off, embarrassed.

You try not to grin, "I'd appreciate that," you say, blushing, and you swear he lights up like Christmas morning.

He gets back home at about sunrise, and doesn't sleep all day. At about 5:30 in the evening his phone buzzes, and he can't help the smile that blooms across his face when he sees your name. When he opens the message the smile fades and is replaced by something very different.

It's a photo of you, probably taken by one of your coworkers, posed coquettishly in front of a Valentine's Day themed step and repeat banner, in a vintage red dress that hugs your curves deliciously. Which you fully didn't pick out with a certain guy in mind, why would you think that?

If you'd been present, you would know that the dress has done it's job, and after a few minutes staring dumbly at the now saved photo on his phone, he starts prepping for a night of protecting the good people of New York City.

Okay, maybe just one, in particular.

.....

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins

#tmnt #bayverse raphael #tmnt raphael #tmnt bayverse #raphael x reader #tmnt raphael x reader #bayverse raphael x reader #bayverse tmnt #raph x reader

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dancingdonatello · 2 years ago

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HI!! 💕💕

can i request a donatello x gn reader who has a pet softshell turtle? i saw a tiktok where raph and donnie were holding their turtle species and omg it was so cute- 😭💕

have an AMAZING day/night!!

donnie x gn reader

“Donnie, it’s time you meet someone very important to me.”

That’s what you had told him a few days ago. Now, he stood at your doorstep dressed in the fanciest of clothes he could find. He was prepared to meet and impress your parent.

He wasn’t prepared for you to laugh at him when you opened the door and saw him.

“What?” He asked. You didn’t answer and instead pulled him into your house and up to a room that you had never let him go in before. “What’s going on?”

“As much as I love seeing you in a suit,” you paused as you fell into another bout of laughter, “you might want to take it off.”

“Why?” He demanded before you opened the door. Only then did he see the reason why.

The room was mostly empty, just filled with bins and food containers. But in the middle and most obviously the center piece of the room, there was a large pool of water.

“You… have a turtle.” He was flabbergasted. “As a pet?”

“And another as a boyfriend.” You patted him on the arm before you walked over. You picked the turtle up and it squirmed unhappily in your hands. “Look! It’s a soft shell too.”

“Amazing,” Donatello said flatly. “Now where is your parent that I was supposed to meet?”

“You were supposed to meet her!” You held the turtle in your hands out towards him. “Isn’t she pretty?”

Donnie turned to leave.

“Aw, Donnie…” you whined. “You’re hurting her feelings.”

Donnie scoffed again but stayed put. You smiled victoriously.

“Come on,” you sat down on the floor and patted the floor in front of you, “let’s just hang out.”

Your boyfriend reluctantly turned around and sat in front of you. He looked very unamused but you didn’t care. You set your pet on the floor and it immediately hissed at Donnie.

“Wow, she does not like you.” Her long neck reached over and she bit onto the finger of one Donnie’s hands that had been laid on his lap nearly. “She really doesn’t like you.”

“It’s because she knows I am better than her in all ways,” he said emotionlessly, even with his finger in the turtles mouth. “You are nothing compared to me,” he whispered lowly to it.

“Not true.” you shook your head. “Watch. Daphne, let go.”

“You named it Daphne?”

“Look!” You interrupted with a screech. “She let go! She listens better than compared to you.”

“What? I listen,” he defended himself but you were moving on.

“Daphne, sit.” The turtle coincidentally laid down when you said it. Donnie groaned when you cheered. “Such a good girl,” you cooed and picked her up. She bit you this time.

“Can it balance chemical equations?” Donnie scoffed.

You looked over at him, shocked at how… displeased he looked. His arms were crossed and his eyebrows were furrowed.

“Can it develop and operate highly dangerous and radioactive weaponry? I don’t think so.” Donnie’s eyes were burning holes into your poor turtle.

“No, but it is cute.” You held poor Daphne a little closer protectively before you had an idea. “Donnie, just hold her. Feel the connection.”

“Feel the connection,” he mocked you. But he still took the turtle into his hands when you passed her over. He inspected it with a grumpy look. “Looks healthy.”

The turtle reached forward with its long neck and touched its snout to his.

“Oh my god,” you breathed out and took a hundred photos. “I am printing these out and plastering them all over my walls.”

It was all fine until Daphne started to churr. She had crossed the line.

“Daphne!” You snatched her back. “That is inappropriate!” Donnie snorted and shook the mud off his hands with a sigh.

“I guess she’s alright…” He interrupted your chastising of Daphne. “Still can’t take over the world though.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Yeah, yeah, you’re one of a kind, Donnie.”

leo | raph | mikey

art

#rottmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #donatello x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #donatello hamato x reader

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selineram3421 · 1 year ago

Text

*giggles like a psycho*

First Day

Part 2

Part 1

Alastor and Child Reader

Warning! ⚠

⚠ children (lol), reader being a menace ☺, blood/gore, ALL CAPS Bold red Italics = SOUND AFFECTS, red italics= Alastor's thoughts, fake crying, food mention(desserts), mention of murder, mention of kidnapping, mention of torture, murder of test demon ⚠

You saw the school bus and it was filled with shouts and screeches of other demon children. Making sure you of the item in your pocket, you readied yourself to begin the plan.

Stage one: Have some control over the school bus.

The door opened and you hop up the steps, the screams even louder now that you were inside.

It was absolutely unhinged.

I can do better. You thought, taking a quick glance to find a seat.

"Hurry up and sit down brat.", the bus driver yelled.

"Quiet before I cut you open.", you said to them without missing a beat and walked towards the back of the bus.

You were calm as the other children were acting like drug addicts.

One was bold enough to try and trip you with their leg out. Looking at them, you see that they have a cocky grin.

"Can you please move your leg? Its in the way.", you ask.

"No. Just go over it.", they laughed.

With a shrug you do just that, they try and lift their leg up higher to trip you but you jump at the last second and aim for their knee.

SNAP

They scream like bloody murder as they cry, grabbing the attention of the other children. All eyes are on you and the broken leg that's spewing out blood.

"I did ask nicely.", you say before continuing on your way to the open seat in the back.

Finally, you arrive at the school and find your classroom, now you were standing next to the teacher as your new classmates make a mess with paper planes and other items.

"Everyone SHUT UP! This is the new student.", the teacher Ms. Mayberry introduces you to the class. "Go on and say hello, then take the empty seat over in the middle."

You nod and smile as you face the children.

"Don't cross me or you might end up like Mikey!", you say cheerfully and go sit down.

Stage two: Assert dominance and be kind to those who are kind to you. *weed out any snakes*

Alastor got ready to pick up his little demon.

I wonder if they had fun. He thought before leaving the hotel.

On his way over, he picked up some pastries from their favorite bakery. Now the Radio Demon was just a few feet away from the gate that had a few lingering children, that's where he saw his little one waiting with the teacher who was smoking.

They spotted him and lit up.

"Alastor!", they cheered before running up.

The teacher had backed up a bit after noticing who he was.

"Good afternoon mon petite!", he said and picked them up. "Did you have a good time? Hm? Were there any pests?"

"I took care of it! But all of them went home alive.", they replied as he began walking back to the hotel. "Bye Ms. Mayberry!", they waved to their teacher.

They had started to tell him what happened on the school bus as they got closer to the hotel, that is when the deer demon reminded them to look sad.

"I don't think I can keep a straight face but I can still cry like I'm sad.", the little demon said. "I know what to do."

They hid their face on his shoulder and started shaking their shoulders, making convincing sniffles and sobs.

Alastor opened the hotel doors, finding the princess and her partner, one of them holding a cupcake.

"Oh no, what happened?", Charlie asked after noticing the little demon's shaking shoulders.

"There was a bully that harassed them today.", he answered and made his way over to the stairs, lifting up the bakery box. "I've already bought them sweets to cheer them up but you can leave the cupcake for dessert after dinner."

Once in the hotel room, he sets them down and put the box of sweets on the small table near the door.

"Wash your hands before getting your sweets.", he says before helping them take off their school bag.

"Ok!", they nod and run over to the bathroom.

Taking the box, the demon in red snaps his fingers to conjure some plates on the coffee table. He sets up the table before putting the pastries on the plates. Making sure to get their favorite cup for their drink.

They went to their room before coming back out with no coat and taking a seat on the couch.

"Now, tell me all about your day.", he said giving them a plate with a slice of cranberry pomegranate curd tart. "What kind of drink would you like with your sweets?"

They ask for their favorite drink and proceed to tell him about what happened after the "tripping" incident.

The deer demon prepares a cup of coffee while getting their drink.

"Some of the kids tried to act tough and pick a fight with me during reeses. The supervisors don't care if there's a fight as long as no one gets killed.", they said before taking a bite of the tart. "I broke a lot of bones today.", they add.

"Don't speak while chewing dear.", Alastor hands them a napkin, placing their cup next to their plate before sitting down.

They go into detail of all the injuries they caused with a wide smile. Telling him that they want to learn more tactics of intimidation to scare some of the staff.

"Finish your homework and I'll take you out so you can have hands on experience.", he says and sips his coffee.

"Really!?", they ask excited.

"Of course! Its the best way to learn."

After dinner (and their desert), they headed out and found a demon to test on.

"The best way to intimidate someone is through fear. Give them something that will always remind others not to try anything. Breaking the boy's leg was good, but remember that it is on school grounds that you cannot kill.", he says as both of them watch the test demon scream as they are being taken apart limb by limb. "Of course you have my permission to kill anyone that tries to kill or kidnap you. Or other terrible things.."

"Can I torture them a little bit?", they ask.

"Yes, but don't let your guard down.", the Radio Demon says, using the tendrils to rip the test demon's head off. "Remember mon petite, prey can bite back."

On the way back to the hotel, he got them a new plush, a small mouse to attach to their school bag.

"Mr. Squeaks."

Tehe.

~Seline, the person.

Extra: Dessert image

Extra EXTRA: Art

Taglist@

@willowaudreykeyes @kiraisastay @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @scary-noodlesblog @naelys-the-aster @ducky-died-inside @biromanticboba @roo-bi @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

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goodlucktai · 3 days ago

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could you please do prompt number one with the a team duo? (raph and leo!!!) i just think leo is in need of big brother love sometimes <3 prompt number one: "Shit. Shit, shit, shit, c'mere." (btw, ur writing is amazing im literally blown away every time!!! tysm for all the writing u do)

dialogue prompts

1. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit, c’mere.”

Something bad happened to Leo in the prison dimension. In the minutes—the minutes—between losing him and getting him back, something bad happened to him.

“This isn’t right,” Casey had said that first night in the medbay, staring at the X-rays on the illuminator as if he could change them by wanting it hard enough. “These breaks aren’t new. They can’t be.”

“He wasn’t running around with a spiral fracture in his tibia before the alien invasion,” Donnie replied tersely, more high strung with every second his twin remained limp and unresponsive on the infirmary bed.

Mikey was glued to Leo’s side like a miserable orange barnacle, Splinter rarely venturing more than two steps away at a time. April had been torn in two with worry for Leo and worry for her mom, and had only been convinced to leave when S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N pinkie-promised to feed live updates to her phone at the top of every minute.

If Leo had woken up even for just a minute back on Staten Island, it would have been a reassurance his family could stack all their hopes on. Instead, the brother they dragged out of the void had about as much life to his limbs as a ragdoll. His head lolled in Donnie’s hands like something out of a horror movie—and Mikey’s breaths started to shudder, and Raph thought for a fleeting, hysterical second that the world had ended, after all—and then Donnie found a heartbeat. He showed a weeping Mikey where to find it, their fingers pressed in the soft hollow of Leo’s throat where the carotid artery pulsed loud and clear. Raph kept his own hand there for the entire trip home. If that stubborn heart stopped he didn’t know what he would do. He didn’t know what he would do.

“But the bone has already formed a hard callus,” Casey said. “I know sensei and my uncles healed faster than mom and Aunt April did but still. Leo shouldn’t have reached this stage of healing for another week at least.”

Donnie’s face, already stormy, reached a level of dark anger Raph had never seen before. He studied the charts on the wall without speaking, memorizing them. Ninpo sparked around his fingers like he was only barely resisting committing violence, and only because the desired target was well beyond his reach.

“What does that mean?” Raph asked hoarsely. His hands were squeezed tight between his knees so no one would see if they started to shake.

“It means that either Nardo broke his bones in about eight different places a week ago and no one noticed,” Donnie said in a brittle deadpan, “or that monster put its hands on him in the prison dimension and Leo healed from it somehow.”

“But he was only in there for like, for like ten minutes,” Mikey warbled. He sounded heartsick and confused and too young to carry the weight of the world on his shell. “We got him right back out, we—we didn’t leave him in there long enough for all that.”

“I have a theory,” Donnie said, and then didn’t say anything else. He dragged a chair over to Leo’s bed with an unholy screeching sound, tucked his head against his twin’s at what couldn’t have been a comfortable angle, and started to tap around on his phone.

“Okay,” Casey said at length, recognizing an immovable object when he saw one. He turned to Raph instead, a child-sized soldier whose mission wasn’t quite finished yet. “Raphael, could I look at your eye?”

He had finished cleaning Raph’s eye and patching up his shoulder and moved onto wrapping Mikey’s hands when Donnie surged up from his chair so suddenly that everyone in the room jumped. His phone crunched into two distinct pieces in his hand, military-grade case and all, and he flung them away.

“Woah, hey,” Raph said, “Dee, are you—”

“I ran diagnostics on Leo’s gear,” Donnie said. It was his flat, toneless voice, the one that meant he was feeling so many things he had to shut something down to prevent a total systems failure. “The timestamps didn’t make any sense. So I ran them again. And again. And everything seems to be indicating that Leo was in the prison dimension for over three hundred hours.”

No, Raph thought. He stared at the shape of his little brother in that bed, at the vivid black and blue bruises on his face—noticing for the first time the faint yellows of much older ones around his neck.

Horror crept up Raph’s throat.

Please, no.

“What?” Mikey blurted, sounding as hysterical as Raph felt. “What? No, he couldn’t. He couldn’t have. It was only—”

“For us, thirteen minutes,” Donnie said bleakly. “For Leo, thirteen days.”

Since then, Raph has learned a lot more about temporal differentials and post-captivity recovery than he ever wanted to know. Donnie made four different PowerPoint presentations that the entire family was forced to sit through. All of them are budding experts on several subjects that they might otherwise not have been, studying as feverishly as undergrad students cramming for a final, desperate to be helpful.

So this is Raph’s fault. He knew better.

If he’d taken even a second to think before following the unmistakable sound of a turtle falling out of bed into Leo’s room, before lunging over to the crumpled-up form of his little brother on the floor, he would have recognized the blackout for what it was. He, of all people, should have seen it.

The episodes are few and far between, but only because Leo is rarely left alone when he’s awake, and sleeps even less than he did before. It’s easier for him to keep his head straight when he’s ensconced in a turtle pile, or curled up in Splinter’s lap for reruns of really bad soap operas that he mumbles along to in Spanish, or keeping Mikey company in the kitchen, taste-testing everything that gets pushed his way (handily supplementing all the meals he only picks at, Michelangelo is a genius for discovering that work-around).

It’s when he’s asleep and the nightmares come knocking that they have to worry. If Raph had known he was in here taking a nap, he would have made sure Leo had company. He probably would have curled up around the slider himself, giving Leo’s highly strung subconscious a hand, soothing him back to sleep before the bad dream could dig its hooks into him and yank him awake.

But the sleepiness probably hit him in a sudden burst, the messy pile of pillows and stolen purple blanket too tempting to resist. He must have curled up to rest his eyes and drifted off.

And he woke up alone, in the dark. The shape of someone much bigger than him looming above everything else. Raph knew better. He did. Of course a cornered animal was going to bite.

“Fuck,” he breaths out, white hot pain shooting up his arm from where Leo had buried his teeth a moment ago. It hurt, but it had nothing on the way his heart was breaking.

He’d seen Donnie lash out like this a few times before, overstimulated and fully ready to bite whoever was stupid enough to put their hands on him, but not since they were kids. Mikey used to handle all fits of temper by hiding in his shell and closing the little hinge to keep everyone else firmly out, grumbling ticked-off turtle noises until he was left alone.

When Leo was little, on the other hand, he wanted attention when he was feeling bad—he wanted to be picked up and held and would cry and pout until he got his way. Whether he was feeling upset or angry or scared, the solution was always more or less the same.

There’s no recognition in his eyes now. Leo has never looked at Raph this way before, even when Raph was the Krang’s puppet, even when Raph had him dangling by a strangling grip on his throat—even then, Leo didn’t look at him like he was a stranger.

He had to fight like this in the prison dimension, didn’t he? He had to tear survival out of that place piece by bloody piece.

Raph hates that he had to do that and loves him for it in equal measure.

“It’s okay, Leo,” Raph murmurs. “You did just right, okay? You stayed alive. However you have to do that is okay. You got mixed up just now, but it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have scared you. Raph’s so sorry.”

Leo is staring at him, eyes wide and glassy. All the gold in them is edged out to black, pupil swallowing iris whole. There’s blood on the corner of his mouth. He smacks his tongue, tasting it. Like the worst version of giving him ice cubes to hold or peppermint to smell, it grounds him, bringing him back to the present moment.

Raph watches Leo realize where he is and what he’s doing, sitting on the floor in the corner of the room with blood in his mouth.

“Raph?” he says, small and scared and sixteen years old.

“It’s me, I’m here,” Raph says, too fast, “you’re safe, Leon.”

Leo’s eyes drift lower. He clocks the teeth marks in Raph’s arm and starts to cry.

“Shit,” Raph says, scrambling forward frantically on hands and knees. “Shit, shit, shit, c’mere.”

Leo spills willingly into his hug, like it’s ten years ago and he’s had his heart broken by an argument with his twin and nothing on earth could possibly console him but he was willing to let Raphie try.

Except Raphie knew all the tricks. Raphie knew that tearful little turtles just needed to be squeezed tight and rumbled at and snuffled until they couldn’t help but giggle.

It isn’t such an easy fix this time. Leo’s shoulders shake like he’ll never stop crying, his wet sticky face smearing salt and blood where he has it crammed in the crook of Raph’s neck. He clings as if he’s half-afraid something or someone is going to wrench him away.

Not in this lifetime. Never again.

“I’ve got you,” Raph tells him. Heart settling now that his little star is in his arms, safe and sound. They could come back from anything as long as they had this much. “Raph’s always got you. Don’t be scared. Don’t be sorry. We’re okay.”

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #a team #hamato raphael #hamato leonardo #hamato donatello #casey jr #my writing #prompt #anonymous #tmnt fic

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noxturnalnymph · 8 months ago

Text

Devotion 🖤 III. Path to the Future (Ch 10)

CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader

Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?

Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.

*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*

⚠️PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE SERIES WARNINGS, ESPECIALLY: canon-typical violence/death, guns, blood/injury⚠️

III. Path to the Future

CH 10 (7.1k) Joel’s head snaps up, waking him from the sleep he didn’t realize he had fallen into. He looks directly across from him and meets Skinny’s sleepy-eyes, seemingly having just been woken up as well. They both sit frozen for a moment, startled still by the noise that woke them up. There are muffled screams coming from behind where Joel is tied up. Your screams.

Another beat passes and Skinny jumps up, grabbing the knife - Joel’s knife - off the ground, running back behind Joel’s chair. He hears grunting and cursing, a nasally voice hollering Mike, hey, Mikey, and then your panicked cries. What the fuck is happening? Joel tries to turn in the chair and look behind him but his bindings are too tight to move. He tries to move his hands towards his pants to reach for that knife he has tucked inside them but goddamnit, he’s tied up so fuckin’ tight his hands don’t budge at all.

More shuffling and crying behind him, Skinny cursing and shuffling around, then the slapping of bare feet on the wood floor, and you appear before him. Holy shit. You’re covered in blood. Not just a little bit, but an entire body’s worth of blood. You’re wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of underwear. Every inch of your exposed skin is tinted red, your hair and clothes still wet, the bottom of the shirt dripping onto the floor, pooling at your feet which have left a trail of bloody footprints behind you. Only the whites of your eyes stand out, wide open in horror.

“What did you do?” your voice trembles.

“W- What?” Joel sputters. “What th- are you okay?”

Skinny’s shoes come squeaking up behind him, Joel can hear him panting, and can feel the kid’s quick, panicked exhales blowing hot on the back of his neck. He checks and rechecks Joel’s bindings, pulling and pushing on all of the ropes. Joel can see his hands are shaking and stained with blood.

“It wasn’t him, he’s still tied up. Besides, I was watchin’ ‘im,” Joel hears Skinny say in a quivering voice, conveniently leaving out the part where he fell asleep in his chair.

Except Joel knows he didn’t do anything, he has - in fact - been strapped to this chair for hours. Where is the Big Guy? Jesus Christ, is that whose blood you’re wearing? He looks you up and down, trying to make sure you’re not wounded and the blood isn’t yours. You’re twitching and hyperventilating but you don’t look like you’re in pain. You suddenly still, and grab your head, horror washing across your crimson face.

“Oh my fucking god, he didn’t come here alone!” you screech, finally waking the sleeping couple on the other side of the room. You point your red finger toward Joel’s face. “Who’s out there?”

“I don’t know what you-”

You slap your open palm across Joel’s cheek, hard. So hard you have to shake your hand afterwards from the sting. The metallic smell of blood overwhelms his senses and Joel’s cheek bites with the sharp pain.

“Quit fucking lying and tell us how many people you brought here,” you hiss, inches from his face now. Your terror-filled eyes bore into his and he remembers how much he missed that wild look you used to give him - but not like this. You look half mad. Joel just stares at you in confused silence.

“You guys need to check the fucking perimeter,” you scream at the kids standing in the middle of the room staring at you slack-jawed. “Now!” They stumble over chairs, the legs scuffing on the floor as they hastily make their way out of the building. You turn back to Joel but address the silent figure behind him. “Why are you just standing there? You need to get this fucking asshole to talk before they kill us all.”

Skinny rounds the chair and stands in front of Joel, looking much less menacing now that the shit has apparently hit the fan. He’s pale as a ghost, the dark red blood smeared on his still-shaking hands and up his arms making a stark contrast. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat as he swallows down nothing, trying to gather courage. Hurry up, you whisper behind Skinny, you gotta hurry up. He hesitates in front of Joel, wringing his hands and patting his pockets for his knife.

Then Joel sees the knife, glinting in the moonlight just behind Skinny. In your hand.

You move quickly, drawing the knife deftly across Skinny’s throat, a ruby line forming along his ghastly complexion. Skinny’s eyes go wide as he clutches at his wound, the line dripping and then pouring blood, all over his neck, all over his hands, all over the floor. Several spurts fly out and hit Joel square in the chest. You cut deep. Shallow sounds come out of Skinny’s mouth - no words, just air - as he sinks to his knees. Joel watches him slide in the pool of blood forming on the floor and tip over onto his side, time moving in slow-motion as the life drains from the boy’s eyes in under sixty seconds.

He’s so caught up in watching the light leave Skinny’s eyes that your hand on his arm startles him. He didn’t even notice you’d moved next to him, and he watches you silently cut away several ropes with the bloody knife. He shakes his stiffened shoulders, shrugging off the restraints and pushes his body off the chair, fighting the tightness and pain from sitting tied up for hours. He turns to check on you but he’s immediately distracted by the blood-curdling scream you let out. Instinctively he ducks and swivels, looking around for the threat.

He feels you thrust the knife handle into his hand and he takes it with shaking fingers, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He wipes the handle on his thigh to make sure his grip isn’t compromised by all the blood. You’re still screaming but he can’t see what you see, even with the moonlight illuminating the darkened room he doesn’t see the danger. The two kids come running back into the building and stop short, halfway across the room. The boy slowly raises a rifle up. Joel looks left and then right… then down. Oh. Skinny lies dead at his feet in a pool of blood. Joel is covered in blood spray and holding a knife while you scream bloody-murder behind him.

He’s the danger.

He looks back up at the couple and sees the boy aiming the rifle at Joel’s head with a tremulous grip. Great, he’s probably gonna miss his head and shoot him in the gut, and Joel’s gonna die a slow and agonizing death by his own fucking rifle at the hands of a chubby-cheeked teenager. What the fuck have you done? Wait, what the fuck are you doing? Joel sees you walking a wide arc around him, skirting towards the couple in the middle of the room, towards your friends. Your friends?

They’re not even looking at you, their focus solely trained on Joel, who has dropped the knife and stands with his arms raised in surrender. He watches you get closer and ease the rifle out of the boy’s hands - which he eagerly allows - happy to give the responsibility of taking a life to someone else, to anyone else. You check the chamber and tuck the rifle butt in the crook of your arm, but instead of turning the gun back on Joel you swivel it right back at the boy and shoot him directly between the eyes. His body falls to the ground with a sickening thump.

The girl yelps from the noise and then - realizing what you’ve done - takes a breath in to let out an anguished cry. Only she never gets the chance. You’ve chambered a new round and aimed the short distance to your next target. Joel hears himself cry out as you pull the trigger, the girl’s body immediately falling over, slumping down onto the ground next to her boyfriend.

You swing the rifle around now and aim it at Joel. His hands go higher in the air. He can’t remember if you were a very good shot when you lived with him, but you’re at a distance now where it would be difficult to miss him either way. He also just watched you murder three people in front of him, so he doesn’t doubt your commitment. You stare down the barrel at him, eyes black and grip steady. Your breathing is even, your demeanor is calm and calculated. You’re still dripping scarlet but gone is the terrified creature from moments ago. Then again, why would you be scared?

You’re the scariest thing in this room right now.

You hold the gun there, aimed at Joel, and he isn’t sure if you’re going to pull the trigger. You didn’t hesitate when you shot the other two, so maybe if you were going to shoot him you would have done it by now. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, drawing it out, making him sweat. He watches your face, passive and unblinking. Maybe this is payback for the way he treated you and all the shit he put you through. Maybe the bullet will be your final revenge. He can’t say he wouldn’t deserve it.

“You didn’t have to kill those kids,” he says, working to appeal to your humanity. “They’d already given you their gun.”

“I did them a favor. They were never gonna make it. They were soft. Weak.”

“So were you, once,” Joel coos.

“Is that what you think?” Your voice is even as you take steps forward until the barrel of the gun touches his chest, right over his beating heart. “I think I just trusted the wrong person.”

You see fear flash in his eyes. Good. He always had a way of underestimating you, of treating you like a delicate little thing. You tried to be good for him, wanted to expose your soft underbelly, felt an unhinged desire to please him, wanted to earn his love and affection. But you weren’t fucking weak, not after everything you’ve been through. It was this man - insistent in his tenderness - who wormed his way past the defenses around your heart, only to turn into a venomous serpent once your walls were down.

“You gonna shoot me, baby?”

Your eye twitches.

“Stop calling me that. I’m not your fucking baby. I saw you holding your baby.”

You jerk the gun away from his chest, stalking past him and pushing open a second door that had been behind where he was tied up. He turns and watches you walk out into the moonlight, dropping the rifle in the grass as you head towards the lake, stripping off your soiled clothes as you go. You reach the water’s edge and although he knows it must be close to freezing, you march in without hesitation. He watches you until you sink beneath the rippling blackness, bubbles rising where you once walked.

Once you’re submerged in the frigid liquid you let out the scream you’ve been holding in all day, forcing all the air in your lungs out, watching it rise and break at the surface. Fuck this day. Fuck Roy for his sadistic cruelty, your lip stinging again - reopened from your underwater wail. Fuck Mike for trying to put his hands on you in the dry-storage room. He was supposed to help you, not help himself. It could have gone down differently for him. Fuck those kids for blindly trusting you, making it too easy to see your plan through. Joel was right, they were innocent and would have easily surrendered. But it was all fucked, wasn’t it?

In fact, fuck Joel most of all. Fuck him for putting you in this position in the first place. Fuck him for drawing you in and then betraying your trust. Fuck him for continuing to think he deserved you, his obsession with you making it impossible to stop thinking about him. Fuck him for getting whatever he wants, for screwing anything that moved, for putting a baby in Bianca, for wanting anything that isn’t you. Fuck him for driving you away from the only place that felt like home in a very long time, forcing you into this cursed circumstance. Fuck him for every minute of today you had to endure.

Fuck. Him.

You come up for a breath, the chill in the night air sending goosebumps all over you, making your skin sting. You draw your hands across your body, washing the evidence of your violence off of you, before you walk back out of the water. You stride naked and dripping, cold and shivering across the lawn back into the side door of the dining hall. Joel stands right where you left him and watches you pass by him, moving to the dry storage and grabbing your clothes off a high shelf. You get redressed as he watches in silence and then grab the remaining jerky and half jar of pickles from your pack.

You share the midnight snack spread out on a table with Joel among the bodies littering the floor like some kind of macabre picnic.

“Did you know these people?”

“Oh yeah, we go way back,” your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“But they trusted you. They knew you-”

“They knew what I wanted them to know,” you bark.

“And what was that?”

“I told them I could get them to safety, get them fed. I told them I could help them.”

“But why would they believe you?”

“Because it’s exactly what they wanted to hear, Joel,” you laugh. “You spend a lot of time talking. I know people like you and all, but you don’t do enough listening. I listen to people, I pay attention, and if you listen well enough people will tell you precisely what they want. You can use that to your advantage if you know what you’re doing. You can convince them the thing you want is the same thing they want.”

When you look back at him you catch him looking at you with his mouth ajar. He’s taking in everything you just said and piecing together things in his mind bit by bit. Slowly, an entirely different version of you is coming into focus. He’s been working on manipulating people for years, honing his skills and constantly making adjustments to build up his community for protection. Meanwhile, you’ve done the same thing in under a day. You had these people wrapped around your fucking finger.

Effortlessly.

He remembers the lengths Tess went through to protect you from him, even going so far as to call her loyalty to him into question. Now that he thinks about it, sending you away to the farm behind his back was probably the only move Tess ever made against him in their entire relationship. Sasha once told him she felt bad for you, since you were so helpless. But you weren’t helpless. You were calculating. Oh my god, was everything a manipulation? Was every tear you shed just a carefully planned design to tug on the heartstrings of those around you?

“Did you listen to Tess?” he asks.

You slowly nod your head.

“What did she want?”

“Someone to take care of,” you reply.

Well, shit. You gave Tess what she wanted, didn’t you? And Sasha, what did she want? Probably someone to teach. Raw clay to shape into the huntress she had been taught to be. Based on your performance tonight it looks like that was also a success. He thinks about Amber, bragging about how proud her father Hank was that you were living with them, even if her mother was less than impressed. What were you doing for Hank? Jealousy flares up in his gut, licking like a flame at his insides.

“What about Hank?” he mutters. “What did that holier-than-thou old fool get outta you?”

A sideways smile forms at your mouth at the implication he’s made. You stare dead-eyed at him and let him await your answer, let the possibilities race through his mind, a hot flush creeping up his chest at the idea of another man’s hands on you. After a long pause, you speak.

“A son.”

“A- a what?”

“He had a daughter, made in her mother’s image. He didn’t have a son to work the farm with him.”

“You did that?”

“No,” you laugh to yourself. “But he thought I did.”

“Who did your work if you didn’t?”

“The farmhands,” you shrug. “And before you make another gross insinuation, I didn’t blow them either.”

“And they helped you because…”

“I don’t know,” you sidestep the truth, shoving the last bite of the last pickle in your mouth. You let the sour, salty liquid flood your mouth as you think it over in your head, how much you should tell him, if it’s a secret worth keeping. Finally you come back around to honesty. It doesn’t matter anyways, you don’t live there anymore. “They’re gay... Danny and Diego, they’re gay. They were afraid I’d out them or something so they did all my work for me.”

There it is, more manipulation. You’re like a fucking puppet master, everyone dancing from your hands. Where does it end? Where did it begin, he wonders? He remembers how he found you, clicker on your heels and bleeding out after barely escaping what looked like a hell of a fight. If only you could have convinced the clicker to feel bad for you, it might have been a different outcome.

“Where were you before I found you half-dead at the bottom of a mountain?” Joel asks.

“Why does that matter?”

“I’m curious. You never told me much about your past, but it feels like you wanna open up tonight.”

“That’s not something I’m lookin’ to open up about, Joel. They were very bad people and I was lucky to get away from them.”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters. “Good thing you escaped.”

“I didn’t-” you pause. “I didn’t exactly escape.”

“What?” His brows knit, deepening the line between them.

“They let some of us go scouting so we could find other places to raid,” you explain.

“And who, may I ask, convinced them of this idea?”

He already knows the answer.

“I might have brought some of the finer points of the plan to the table,” you shrug.

This is it. This is how you’ve survived the last nine years. You refuse to carry a knife, you can barely cook a meal without cutting or burning yourself, he doesn’t even think you can start a fire on your own. But you’ve gotten other people to take care of you, feeding off them like a little parasite, intertwining their survival with your own.

“You’re-”

Genius. Maniacal. Sensational. Devious. Fantastic.

You’re everything he’s been trying to be.

“I’m- …what?” you ask him to finish his thought.

“You’re more like me than you’d like to admit,” he teases.

“I’m nothing like you, Joel. I’m just trying to survive.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do too, baby.”

“Cut that shit,” you slam your hand on the table, the noise reverberating in the silent stillness. “You’re a controlling maniac, lying to people so you can get your dick wet. So you can have women barefoot and pregnant in your kitchen.”

He laughs. That’s not who he is. Maybe the lying part but not the rest of it. You make him so goddamn crazy. He’s had his head in a fog for months, lost in his thoughts of you and now it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time. The new you. No, the you that was apparently always there, the you that you’ve kept hidden from him. Mouthy, capable, and fierce. In your eyes he sees fury and passion. Damp hair tied in a messy little ponytail, dried blood under your nails. Fuck, he doesn’t think he’s ever been more attracted to you.

“I love you,” he blurts out. The first time he’s said those words out loud in nearly a decade.

“That’s not gonna work on me anymore, Joel,” you sigh.

“I’m not tryin’-,” he huffs a deep breath in and out. Then he says quieter, almost to himself, “I shoulda said it before. A lot a’ things I shoulda- shoulda done different.”

“You shoulda said that shit last year,” you chuckle darkly. “I was over the moon for you. Out of my mind… stupid…” You grab a bite of jerky and chew on it slowly. “You know, I spent my whole life being mediocre. Good at some things but never great at anything. Not smart but not stupid, not ugly but not pretty, not useless but certainly not useful. I used to think about my purpose in life and wonder if anyone would remember me after I died. I’d think about if my life meant anything at all to anyone else, if anyone would miss me when I was gone.”

You pause to take another bite. Joel sees another metaphorical wall coming down between you. You continue your thought. “And then… one night I was washing dishes with you, and you told me about your daughter. When you looked at me - the grief in your eyes - I felt your sadness like I was washed in it, like it was poured over me. It wasn’t just your sadness, it was our sadness, like we were soaking in it together. In that moment, with your eyes on mine… I felt like maybe I had a purpose.

I felt like if my purpose was to rescue you from that sadness, then I’d do it. If my purpose was to drown with you in it, then I’d do that too. The more I let you in, the more sure I was of my feelings and the night you went down on me it felt like it was all made clear, everything was revealed. I thought we were united. I thought you felt it too, our bond, my purpose. That maybe I was only put on this earth for you, to be yours. To love you and be loved by you. If that was my purpose; to only live for you, to only matter to you, for you to be the only one to remember me… If true, that would be enough for me.”

Joel watches a single tear fall out of your eye, which you quickly swipe away, muttering stupid again.

“I didn’t know you felt like that,” Joel says, his voice a whisper.

“You knew what you were doing,” you level at him. “You brought me into that house to be just another toy on the shelf. Just another broken girl to add to your collection. You didn’t care about my feelings as long as you had my devotion.”

“I was trying to help you.”

“Stop lying to me Joel. Or are you still lying to yourself? You were helping you. And the worst part was, that after everything you did to me I still felt your hands around my fucking neck when you stood up there with Bianca and your-,” you wipe another tear from your cheek. “Your goddamn baby. You still had me in a chokehold and the shattered pieces of my pathetic broken heart just turned to dust.”

“Bianca’s baby-”

“I don’t wanna hear it, Joel. I can do math, I know it was before I got there but I don’t give a fuck, ‘cuz you’re still a liar. I couldn’t stand to be there for one more day watching you with anyone who wasn’t-”

Me. You stop yourself from finishing your sentence. You’ve spilled enough of your blood on the table. He doesn’t even deserve the honesty you’ve given him, and you’ve given him all of it. You take deep breaths and long quiet stretches out between you.

“I’m an asshole…,” he breaks the silence. “...and a liar.” You make a face that tells him you’re very much not impressed by his admissions.

“I know. You already know. None of it was your fault. You know that too. I’ve been doin’ this for a long time, been usin’ people and doin’ whatever it takes to keep myself from-,” he takes a deep breath. “I pretend it’s to keep me alive but that’s not the only reason. It also keeps me detached from formin’ any real relationships. Keeps me from carin’ about anyone that I could potentially… lose.”

He sees your face melt, just for a moment. Hitting you right in the soft spot you must still have for him deep inside. You shake your head slightly.

“I’m sorry, but… that’s just not an excuse.” you say softly.

“I know. It’s not,” he affirms. “It’s just the why, doesn’t excuse anythin’.”

“Why are you tellin’ me this? It doesn’t change-”

“Bianca’s baby is not mine,” he interrupts.

Your eyes snap directly to his, narrowing in suspicion. He knows this is what seems to bother you the most, even more than his one-night indiscretion with Kerri. It’s the truth but he’s not sure you’ll believe him.

“You don’t honestly expect me to believe your bullshit now, do you?” you toss out, a cruel smirk on your lips.

“I thought she was your friend. She never told you it was mine, did she?”

“No, she-,” you suddenly feel awash with guilt. She didn’t tell you anything. Literally. She hardly ever spoke a word. You think back of all the time you spent together. You were content to sit with her in silence, daydreaming about Joel and assuming her quiet nature meant she was okay not talking about herself. But maybe you just didn’t ask. Turns out you just weren’t a very good friend. “She was pretty quiet,” you finish.

“Yeah, ‘cuz of what she went through,” he says as if you should know.

You shake your head. You have no idea what he means. “I guess we weren’t that close,” you admit.

“She wouldn’t ‘a told you either way. She was basically a mute… PTSD the doc said. We rescued her from some very bad people,” he says, copying your earlier phrase. “They were using women for their bodies, doin’ horrible things… Bianca was pregnant when we found her. She didn’t trust anyone but me ‘n Tess, so we took her in. She was too scared to be touched and I never laid a fuckin’ finger on her, not once.”

You nod your head slowly, absorbing the information he’s provided and replaying things over in your mind.

“Why did she have to leave the house?”

“Tess thought it’d look like it was my baby, that it’d look like I had some kind of ‘harem’ goin’ on at the house.” He meets your eyes and you exchange a knowing glance. “I know, but still, she thought some people wouldn’t like the idea of it, regardless of what was true and what wasn’t. Plus, she said it’d be best if Bianca had a ‘better environment’ to raise the baby in.”

You nod and then a thought pierces your mind like a needle.

“Why… why didn’t you just tell me this the other day when I asked you if it was your baby?”

He looks down, averting himself from your scrutiny.

“I wanted to hurt you,” he whispers.

He’s still looking down so he doesn’t even notice when you jump up and dive across the table, knocking him over in his chair and scrabbling your hands to his neck. You’re screaming at him, telling him he’s an asshole, telling him he ruined you, telling him you hate him. Even though you got the jump on him, he’s easily keeping your hands from squeezing too tight around his neck, gently prying your fingers off and pushing you back off him.

He gets up off the ground, hauling you up with him - thrashing and screeching - pushing you up against a column by your shoulders and waiting for you to calm down. There’s not tears in your eyes anymore, now they’re filled with fire. You grit your teeth and continue to claw at the air, trying to pluck his eyes from his head. He’s apologizing, softly repeating over and over that he’s sorry, saying it so many times that it starts to lose its meaning.

“Hurt me?” you say hoarsely. “All you ever did was hurt me.”

“I know,” he closes his eyes. “I’m sor-”

“I hate you.”

“I deserve it.”

“Fuck you. I hate you,” you seethe.

He lets you go, expecting you to attack him again - which would be justified - but you just stand there with your fists balled and your eyes aflame. Maybe you’d feel better if you hit him, if you made him bleed. Maybe he’d feel better.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I hate you.”

You collide like two stars, your heart orbiting around his until they burn supernova hot. Your cores are drawn together by the laws of the universe until they collapse, creating a black hole where your bodies once existed. All the air in the room disappears, as does every thought and doubt in your mind. Gravity itself seems to fade away until you’re nothing but a weightless void, floating through space or floating underwater. Either way his lips are on your lips and you can’t fucking breathe.

You feel his hands everywhere, hot and rough, grabbing onto your flesh like he’s going to tear pieces off and take them as souvenirs. Your tongue wraps around his, seeking his taste, craving the feel of him. His warmth, his scent, his desire. It’s there, low in your belly, the effervescent feeling of being the object of his affections. You hate him. You miss him. You hate yourself.

You shove your hand down the front of his pants and without preamble, grab his half-hard cock in your hands. Joel jerks away slightly, causing you to lose your grip, your hand slipping out of his jeans. Your faces pull back from each other and you stand there in the moonlit room, staring into each other’s eyes, the only sounds the racing of your heartbeats.

“You don’t want me?” you ask, panting.

“Of course I want you,” Joel answers.

“Then what’s the problem?

“Did you fuck that guy?”

“You think I fucked the stranger who kidnapped me?”

“I heard-”

“He was dead before you heard anything,” you let your words sink in. “Do you want me or not, Joel?”

“You’re all I want.”

“Then take me, Joel. I won’t ask you again.”

Joel grabs you by the back of the neck and pulls your face to his, making you whole again. You go for your own pants this time, unbuttoning and unzipping while he follows your lead and does the same. He pulls back to remove his shirt but you yank him back towards you, biting his lower lip and then licking your tongue across it to soothe him. He responds exactly how you’d hoped, wincing and then retaliating.

He quickly turns you around and pushes you bent over, face down onto the table, yanking your pants below your ass. You’re not wearing underwear and a vision flashes in his mind, the reminder of what happened to your underwear and what you’ve done here tonight. He resists the instinct to look around the room, to survey the carnage. This is inappropriate. This is the end of the world. This is - apparently - what you want.

He grabs your arms and crosses them over your back, your hands resting together at your lower back and with his other hand takes out his cock, now rock-solid and leaking precum. He runs his tip up and down your wet seam a few times before notching himself at your entrance. He doesn’t move his hips forward despite the burning desire to do little else. He leans over your back, bringing his mouth to your ear and gives it a few gentle kisses before you try and shrug him off of you.

“Let’s go already, what are you waiting for?” you goad him.

“Do you want this?” he whispers, placing another kiss just behind your ear, his stubble brushing your neck and causing you to shiver.

“Come on. You waitin’ around for me to change my mind?”

You try to move your hands, to reach for him, but he holds you in a firm grip.

“Tell me you want me,” Joel huffs in your ear, no more than a murmur.

“Shut up and fuck me already-”

“Please,” he begs.

“I want you to fuck me Joel, please just fuck me,” you drag out the last word as he pushes himself into you.

Every shallow thrust of his hips drives him deeper until he’s finally home, his hips meeting your backside in perfect harmony. You feel fucking amazing.

“This cunt is so fucking perfect,” he grits his teeth, head tilted back and speaking to the ceiling.

He lets go of your arms and grabs the flesh at your hips with both hands, pulling out and slamming himself back in. You reach back and clutch the edge of the table and he takes it as his sign to set a rough pace, slamming himself into you again and again, driven on by your satisfied moans. He leans over you again, puts one hand down on the table next to your head and tangles his other hand into your hair, pulling back your head to expose your neck to him.

“Tell me again,” he commands. “Tell me you want me.”

He runs his lips down your neck, nipping your tender flesh with his teeth when you don’t answer.

“Fuck,” you yelp. “I want it Joel. Give it to me,” you repeat the last sentence over and over, babbling into the table.

He places more kisses on your neck, down to your shoulders and across the top of your back before he stands back up resuming his thrusts, gentle at first. He feels you squeezing his cock as tight as a fist, feels your wetness coating him, mixing in the coarse hairs at the base of him. He grabs your hips again, driving himself harder into your center, feeling what you denied him all this time. This is what he’s needed, what he’s wanted for so long. You. You and him. This is how it was meant to be. He’s half out of his mind, grunting, wishing he could keep doing this forever, knowing he’s not going to last much longer.

He can’t wait to get you home and have you in his bed, can’t wait to properly have his way with you. He’s going to lie you down and lick you until you shake, to fuck you until you can’t walk. He’s going to take his time with you, make you come, make you scream, make you cry, make you forgive him, make you love him again. The thought nearly drives him over the edge and he lets out a long whine as he stutters his hips, quickly grabbing the base of his cock to stop his release.

“You close, baby?”

“Don’t stop,” you reply.

“I know but I’m gonna-,” he moves his hips again, slowly at first, feeling your fluttering cunt around him. God, you’re gonna be the death of him. “Are you close? Do you need me to-”

He lifts your hips up with his left hand and moves his right hand to snake under you, to rub circles around your clit the way he knows you like except you slap his hand away before he can get it under you.

“Don’t-” you snap. “Just keep going.”

You feel him grab you firmly back at your hips and resume his thrusts. He resumes grunting and groaning, muttering filth to himself about your perfect cunt and how you were made for each other. You bear down, grabbing the table edge harder and squeezing his cock in a tight clench. A noise begins in the back of his throat and builds as it comes out of him as a wail. He must be about to come. One of you should.

Not you. This feels good but this isn’t intimacy. This isn’t love. This isn’t forgiveness. This is goodbye.

Joel’s hips come to a halt and he moans over you, cursing and shouting noises you’ve never heard him make before. He’s muttering apologies in your ear, repeating that he loves you, the same shit over and over. You’re half-worried he’s going to start crying.

Joel steps back, pulling out of you slowly to admire his spend spilling out of you, unable to temper the fascination of marking you as his. This isn’t about that, the rational part of him thinks, this is so much more than that. He reaches out to help you up off the table but you’ve already pushed yourself up and are pulling your pants back up over your hips. Joel does the same, a satisfied grin plastered on his face when you turn around to face him.

“Your guns are in the kitchen,” you say. “In the freezer.”

“Oh- thanks,” he murmurs, feeling the awkwardness of the deliberate topic change.

“Are you heading out now or are you gonna wait ‘till sunrise?”

“Am I-,” a shadow is cast over his face at your wording. “What do you mean am I heading out now, why wouldn’t we walk back together?”

“Because we’re going in opposite directions.”

What the fuck? He can’t help the gamut of emotions that run across his face, exposing his vulnerability to you. Confusion, Anger, Pain. Oh, the pain. You’re rejecting him, again. All the walls that fell down over the last several hours were just built back up - and in fact - built back up while you were fucking him. How did you do that? Why did you do that?

He didn’t think you forgave him but he thought this was going to be a new chapter, that you were letting him back in and giving him another chance. Does he deserve it? Maybe not but he would do anything to get it. Anything. Give you anything, give up anything. But you never even intended to give him a chance.

You-

Did you even come?

He reaches out to you but you pull back, increasing the distance between you.

“Baby-” he whines.

“Stop it,” you say, voice even. “Nothing changed Joel.”

“But… we had sex,” he whimpers, and as it leaves his mouth he hears how pathetic he sounds.

“It’s not a big deal, Joel,” you say, mirroring the words he once said to you when you’d caught him giving himself to any willing mouth on their knees.

God, he underestimated you.

He had no idea how strong you were, how fucking hard you could grab his heart and rip it to shreds.

“Please,” he begs. “Wait… Just- please.”

“Goodbye, Joel,” you say, grabbing your empty pack off the table and brushing past him towards the door.

He grabs your arm as you pass him, placing your palm over his heart. He doesn’t speak but when you look into his eyes you see tears spilling out over his cheeks.

“I gave you everything you ever wanted Joel, how can you ask for more?”

“I need-”

“You need to let me go. In fact, I’ll give you the last piece of the puzzle.” You pull your hand back from him and take a step backwards, towards the door. You speak your name. The one you never gave him. The piece of you that you kept to yourself. A name only spoken by people who loved you, by people who are dead now. The name you wanted him to earn. It hangs between you in the screaming silence. “Now you have everything. You’ve taken every last piece of me. So just fucking let me go.”

You take another tentative step backwards and when he doesn’t move, you turn on your heels and walk out the door, grabbing the rifle off the lawn where you’d dropped it, and jogging off into the coming dawn.

---

The birds start singing before you see the sunrise peeking over the horizon. There are clouds moving in from the west and judging by the smell in the air, you’d guess rain is coming. You can weather the storm, your canteen is full and your pack is heavy. You’d found another summer camp at a different lake further south and were able to scavenge some supplies to help you in your journey.

You briefly thought about Sasha, and how she would be proud of the way you found a tarp and a bungee cord and immediately thought it would make a good raincoat, or the way that you checked the barn to find edible oats when the kitchen pantry had already been picked over. The old you never would have thought of those things.

You’re walking just in the treeline and past the overgrown grass you can see the road to your left, an abandoned vehicle scattered here and there, but otherwise empty. And still. It’s so quiet out here, the air is almost heavy with the silence. You turn down a country road as the clouds move in, attempting to go around a village ahead and avoid the chance of meeting with any more unwanted company. As the sky turns gray and the damp moves in, you spot a covered bridge on the road ahead, not an uncommon sight in these scenic New England towns.

Just as the first fat raindrop hits your head, you duck under the cover of the bridge and take a few steps into the dark. You shrug your pack off your back and begin to fish out the tarp you’d tucked away so you can cover yourself from the incoming downpour. You don’t hear any noise above the splatter of rain on the old bridge’s roof but you feel a sharp pain at the side of your skull and the world goes black.

---

Joel eases you to the ground once you slump backwards into his waiting arms. He sees some dark drops hitting the ground, running off from your temple. He rips off a strip of his shirtsleeve to wrap around your head. He swung too hard. He didn’t want to hurt you but he had to be sure to incapacitate you, he had to be sure you wouldn’t take off on him again. You’ll be alright, he’ll take you to the doc when you get back and get you all patched up. Maybe he’ll even read to you while you heal up. He still has that copy of Hitchhiker’s Guide in his desk drawer. It’ll be just like old times.

He brushes your hair out of your eyes and says your name, kissing your forehead.

“I already told you baby, you can’t run from me.”

🖤

I miss you Iris 💐 Thank you for helping with this series. Thank you SO MUCH to my darling Beef and Bug for helping me to edit this bad boy. Cult Joel (CJ) loves you!!

no taglists going forward - follow @nox-notifs & turn on notifs🫶

TAGLIST (lmk if you wanna be added or removed) @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @covetyou @iamasaddie @sr-lrn @clawdee @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @merz-8 @pinkypromisepascal @alltheseperfectimperfections @survivingandenduring @afraidtofear @millennial-teenybopper @missladym1981 @xdaddysprincessxx @lumoverheaven @ghoulettesinspace @brittmb115 @wintersquirrel @obscurexsorrows @littlevenicebitch69 @lulawantmula @pedroswife69 @joeldjarin @heimtathurss @untamedheart81 @pixielou5 @feel1n-h1gh @elegantduckturtle @koshkaj-blog @vickie5446 @lilipads

#devotion series #cult leader joel miller #noxturnalpascal #ofc!reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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biographydivider · 2 years ago

Text

Urgent Brother Business

A little gift for @somerandomdudelmao in return for their delightful Future AU, and for blessing us with Tiny Tello. I couldn’t get the image of him bossing gigantic, adult Leo around out of my head!

“So the Krang dogs were last spotted here,” April was saying, tapping at a map she’d laid out across the War Room table. “If we come around the perimeter this way, we should be able to use these ruins as cover to...”

She looked up from the carefully plotted attack plans at the ten recruits she’d assembled to go over strategy; none of which were even looking at the map. “Seriously, guys?” April huffed. “I don’t even have to turn around to see what y’all are gawking at...”

Behind her in the hallway, the Leader of the Resistance, The Greatest Ninja of All Time and the turtle who was meant to be leading this damn meeting was crawling across the floor, barely holding in a laugh as a tiny, furious green pancake led him about by the tails of his mask.

“Well,” April deadpanned, arms folded, “I’ve turned around, and I see. Master Leonardo, you wanna get involved, here?”

“Can’t, April,” Leo said, pointing down at the turtle tot, who was scowling through his custom, handmade glasses at the world around him. “I’m double-booked. Take it up with Donnie.”

Donnie - the recent victim of a severe bout of anti-aging that seemed to be going around the base of late - growled reedily and tugged on Leo’s mask tails.

“Oop, we’re off again. See you next time, Commander. Recruits.”

“The sooner Mikey works out how to change him back,” April sighed, turning back to her map, “the better. Okay, can we at least try to focus, please?”

Leo had been basically useless to the resistance since Donnie got babified; following him around and basically doing whatever his little brother (emphasis on little) wanted him to do. That or picking Donnie up and gently squeezing him around the middle, just to hear him squeak. It was so darn cute!

“Where are we going, bud?” Leo asked, as Donnie led him through the base, his face a mask of adorable determination. “You wanna go bath? S’at it? You wanna swim? Oh, we’re going to the kitchen? I can getcha a cookie, just don’t tell Raph...oh.”

They’d stopped just in front of the counter that held the battered, dinged but somehow miraculously still functional coffee machine. It was Donnie’s pride and joy - he’d rescued it from a decimated Starbucks a month or two back, painted a Genius Brand logo on it and had made it work on salvaged coffee beans, evaporated milk and a dream.

Tiny Donnie looked up at it expectantly.

“Uh, bud?” Leo said, getting to his feet and rubbing the back of his neck guiltily. “I don’t think I can get you a coffee right now. You’re just a little guy, and I don’t know what all that caffeine will do to your sensitive lil’ tum-tum.”

Donnie looked from the machine to Leo and, assuming he simply hadn’t made himself understood, jabbed a tiny finger in the direction of the machine.

“D. Coffee’s not a good idea right now.”

Donnie grumbled and pointed all the harder.

“Nuh-uh. No way.”

The turtle tot’s eyes widened in scandalised betrayal - then narrowed as he hissed out something that was obviously a very bad word in Baby-ese.

“Woah, woah, you watch your mouth, mister.” Leo bent down to scoop up his brother. “You need a time out, buddy. Away from all this --”

An entire arsenal of purple nimpo weaponry materialised around Donnie.

“...temptation,” Leo finished weakly. “Eeuough boy.”

“Okay,” April was saying back in the War Room, having finally - finally! - wrangled back the recruits’ attention. “So this next part’s important. Escape plan; this back alley is vital, everyone memorise the co-ordinates --”

BOOM BOOM BANG POW SCREECH POP BOOM BANG BANG BANG BANG

As one, the recruits snapped their attention to the doorway, just as Leo sprinted past, shrieking in terrified laughter as Donnie - somewhere in the haze of purple light and firepower that surrounded him - followed in hot pursuit.

“Donnie no, Donnie stop it I’m sorry, Donatello stand down I’m still your commanding officer--AAAAAGH!!!”

A soft, resonant boom, followed by a cloud of purple smoke. April deflated, finally admitting defeat and rolling up her map.

“Doesn’t matter. Just...don’t worry about it, guys.”

#cass apocalyptic series #rottmnt #rise leo #rise april #rise donnie #tiny tello

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afreakingdork · 2 months ago

Note

Hi-a Miss Dork! I just wanna say I absolutely adore your writing (and you’re one of my biggest inspirations on this site)! Anywizzle! I noticed your little requests thing, and figured I’d conquer my social anxiety to send this.

In light of my recent adventures last weekend where I tried to fist fight one of my friends twice my size, would you be interested in a little drabble with our beloved purple boy and a s/o who’s had a little too much to drink, like world is spinning and all types of filters are gone as they speak the first thoughts on their mind kind of drunk. And he’s kind of amused, kind of worried as they stumble around talking nonsense and try to make themselves another drink they clearly shouldn’t have.

Hope you have a great day/night!

*In batman voice* “Justice.”

Writing Request: Drunk Reader x Donnie 🍺

Thank you so much! It sounds like you had a great weekend and I ope you enjoy this as well!

From now until the poll closes, if you can prove to me that you voted Hassan/Mikey in this poll then I will write any short 100-400 word request like below or draw you a doodle of your choosing!

ᴰᶦˢᶜˡᵃᶦᵐᵉʳ: ᴵ ᵃᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶦⁿ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸ ᵃˢˢᵒᶜᶦᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵒʳ ᵉⁿᵈᵒʳˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵉᵗᶦᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵒʳ ᶦᵗˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ.

Teen rated drunken mischief below!

You were gone.

Donnie had just located you and you were gone.

You had to be somewhere.

You couldn't just vanish.

Unless you had one of Leo's emergency portals which, without question, Donnie needed to get away from you in these circumstances.

The fact that he even considered removing your emergency exit talked to what a blight this night was.

You had gone out with friends. It was not an uncommon occurrence. You had been dating far long enough for him to become more than secure. He enjoyed that you were happy and liked to go out with your buddies. You always came home a tipsy snuggle bug which made it more than worth his while; these were all average events.

What wasn't was your drunk texts.

They came in delirious spurts that were basically unreadable.

He thought of them as hieroglyphics written by your gorgeous ass.

He dismissed them as a silly mistake and then received a call.

"DOOONNIIIEEEEE!!!!" You screeched through the receiver at a volume that made him pull the phone away.

"Yes, my sweet inebriated beloved...?" He was wary in bringing the phone back.

"I like you." You giggled like a school kid telling their crush and he almost bed you were about to run away in the form of hanging up.

"Is that so?" He leaned back from the blueprints he was drawing.

"Yeah..." You seemed to ponder.

The bar rumbled static behind your pause. "Having fun?"

"Yeah, totally! They have this deal! Oh, you wouldn't believe! You get this tower. It's like a storm or something and then they serve it and you go like-!" You whooped into a gesture and someone else clearly yelled.

A deep voice responded telling you to watch yourself.

"Listen here, pal!" You shouted.

Donnie was growing pale as he didn't hear the heated response past 'pipsqueak.'

"Oh, it's on!" There was a harsh clatter before the line cut off.

The terminated call screen blinked with a choice to redial.

Donnie hit the button with a quaking thumb.

An automated voice told him the number he reached-

He was at the bar before his blood pressure lowered enough that he could see where he was going. He stormed straight through the packed club and dropped his goggles with a flick of his head. It drowned out the unnecessary noise and kicked up mapping.

There'd be a trail.

There'd be every indication where you had gone.

He had your metrics down to a science.

Heat signatures.

Scent markers.

He could track you no matter where you-

You were dancing on a bar.

He stared on, unblinking, as he brought his goggles up.

You swiveled and dropped your hips to the cheering of your friends and you looked completely uninjured.

He almost didn't even care what happened.

You were safe.

You looked to be having fun.

He sighed at the anxiety he suffered, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

He bet you wouldn't mind his company and headed toward you.

Where you promptly fell from your spot because you backstepped in beat.

You disappeared behind the counter and Donnie ran.

In two leaps he was there and the moment he looked behind the bar, you weren't.

How was that possible?

He hadn't blinked.

You'd gotten into something mystic that had to be it.

His goggles were malfunctioning for not picking it up.

He heard your sweet laughter.

He rose up to see a bartender glowering down at him where he was invading the space.

Donnie shoved right by the man because a sliver of you was sitting on the counter. "Hey!!"

You looked and lit up. "Donnie!!"

You fell straight at him and he had to catch you.

"Again? That's it. Off! Off!" The bartender shooed you.

Donnie carried you as a giggling package away.

"Boop." You tried to poke the tip of his snout and pissed.

You reeked.

Even with all the assaulting scents of the bar, you in particular were exuding a dangerous amount of alcohol. He got you off to a wall before he set you down. Taking a moment to make a mental map with you safely caged by his body, he formed a breathalyzer with his ninpo and offered it to you. "Blow."

"Oh! Demanding tonight." You tittered. "Not even your birthday..."

He waited.

"Unless..." You swayed as you looked over his person. "Did you split the days again?"

"Darling, I implore you, for a moment, could you simply blow into the device."

"What device?"

He held up the glowing object more obviously.

"Why didn't you say so!?" You giggled and grabbed it.

You tongue it more than putting your mouth around it which made him shudder despite having no senses connected to the construction and he reminded you two more times to blow before you finally did with a hefty huff.

The screen ticked and Donnie thought you might have to try again before it decided 0.23% was a good score.

He blinked at it.

He looked at you where you were sliding down out of his hold.

He watched almost mesmerized as you slunk straight to your butt and very ungracefully tried and failed to get on your feet.

"What did you have?!" He squawked.

"Storm!! Whoosh!" You swung your arms.

"That doesn't mean anything! Where are your friends?"

"Where...?" You tried to move again and almost toppled over.

He hoisted you up like a toddler.

This was his night now.

Babysitting.

You were supposed to come back so cute.

Snuggle into his bed.

Instead you were fighting him like a cat that didn't want to be held. "I'll look!"

"No. I will!" Donnie glanced out for an abysmal moment.

He switched to his goggles a second later and saw scans of their paltry analytics going out and getting a cab."

"They ditched you!?"

"No! Who!?" You held his same tone.

"What happened to your phone!?" He turned on you.

You clucked. "Your forehead gets all wrinkly when you yell."

"Phone!"

"Washboard." You sang off-key notes of a bluegrass tune as you tried to play his forehead.

"No!"

He caught your hand.

"No!"

He reinforced his point by sticking his finger in your face.

Your gaze swam and you tried to bit him.

He yanked his hand away.

"Nope! No more! I'm done! I'm calling it! Bar's closed! You're going home! Those friends of yours better not have left the tab!"

"Nooo!!" You drew out your whine. "I want another drink!"

"Absolutely not! Do you want to chance alcohol poisoning?!"

You almost answered, but he hefted you up under his arm.

"Don't answer that as you aren't in the right mind to respond adequately."

You giggled and swung your dangling arms as he brought you to the bar.

it was a struggle as you kept moving, but he eventually got you there after only knocking over a total of two people.

The moment he set you on the counter to keep you out of trouble, the bartender turned on him.

"Not you again! I said no! Get that one off!"

"Fine! After I pay! Give me the stupid tab!" Donnie snapped right back.

The man rolled his eyes and moved to pull the receipt.

Donnie sighed to one side before he rolled his head back to you. "Let's get you some water-WHERE'D YOU GET THAT!!??"

You had a shot glass to your lips

He smacked it clean out of your hand on reflex.

You stared with wide eyes and hands held up to your lips where you were holding the itty bitty cup that had now shattered on the floor.

"You're paying for that!!" The bartender seethed.

"Yeah! Well!" Donnie hated his foolish response, but he couldn't take his attention away from you again.

In this form, you were far more dangerous than any foe he had ever faced.

"You are shaving years off my lifespan." He told you.

The bartender shoved him a receipt and waited with folded arms.

You were kicking your feet to a song that clearly wasn't play.

Donnie looked at the damaged and his nostrils flared at the price.

"What is this!? How much was that tiny glass!? I can gaffer you another!"

"Three spinning hurricanes, two rounds of shots, two beers, a margarita, and that tiny glass along with pain and suffering and my tip." The bartender leaned forward to illustrate he wouldn't be moved.

Donnie wrapped an arm around you to keep you in place as he got out the bills and not so silently muttered the injustice as he paid.

"Thank you, now get the fuck out." The bartender flicked his head toward the door.

"Check your reviews tomorrow and we'll see who's laughing!" Donnie sneered and hefted you like a bag over his shoulder and on the way out.

You kicked two people in the head and he had no idea how to get you home. You were far too wily to fly with in this condition. He needed to sober you up at least a little so you'd be still. That meant locating the closest food truck, which wasn't far off for the district. He paid another exuberant price for a bottle of water and a set of tacos. He chased you down twice as you tried to escape both times and eventually ninpo'd up a leash to keep you tethered to him.

You sulked straight into the offered platter of food where you immediately abandoned all sorrow for elation.

You ate while spilling filling all over your self and the ground, but Donnie couldn't help but love you.

You were the dork to match his.

You had probably dealt with far stranger after the potion fiasco that had split up his personality.

You drank heartily from your bottle and came away with a satisfied puff.

"Good?" Donnie from where you'd eventually sat own on the dirty sidewalk to eat.

"Good..." You nodded and the motion seemed to come at least a little easier to you. "Where... What happened to my friends?"

"I have no idea." He responded.

You looked up and seemed to sort of register your location. "Ugh. Did... Did i fight a guy?"

He shook his head with the same unknown.

"Must have won." You told yourself with confidence.

"Clearly." He chuffed.

"Buzzing..." Your head tipped.

You weren't moving all that much and seemed to be in a bit of a stupor. "Let's go."

"Kay." You set your trash down to leave, but he scooped it up to toss.

You didn't run away while he did so. You actually slung your arms around his neck when he went to pick you up. He held you close and flew evenly back to the closest entrance to the lair. He counted that as a win as he descended to land.

Dreams of showers and extra steamed cuddling were close at hand.

"Gonna be sick..." You burped over his shoulder.

In an instant shattering, Donnie turned his night over to patting your back while you vomited in an alley and tending to you until you recovered enough in the morning to kiss him gratitude for his care.

He supposed that was just as good.

#me #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing request #requests open #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt Donnie #rally until the tally #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise donnie x reader #tw alcohol

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