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fortheloveoffanfic · 3 years

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Protective Service

John Wick x Reader (A/n-What happens when you click on instinct without looking you ask? Well, you delete a perfectly edited chapter. At least that's what happened to me the first time I tried to post this.)

Masterlist Protective Service Masterlist

Warnings- The tiniest NSFW mentions, infidelity (sort of)

Chapter 10 All of Nothing

Y/n sat at her vanity, sifting through an antique jewelry box in search of a pair of earrings that would suit the outfit she'd picked. For the most part, she was so consumed with her menial task that Y/n hadn't noticed the person coming to stand behind her until he placed one hand on her silk clad shoulder, using the other to sweep her hair away from her neck. "Hi," her mirth was audible and her lashes fluttered as she raised her head, meeting John's softened gaze through the rounded mirror.

"Hey," he threaded rough fingers through her soft locks, moving on to trailing them along the column of her neck when he’d swept her hair away, “You look beautiful this morning, you always look beautiful,” he corrected, grinning at the blush painting her cheeks. No one had ever made her feel what John did, the giddiness, the glee, the little flutter in her heart when she recognized another thing in him that complemented her perfectly.

“Thank you,” Y/n leaned into his touch, admiring how relaxed and at ease John looked; no shirt, hair still damp from his shower and exuding this warm aura of safety that made her just want to lose herself beside him. “What are you doing?” She taunted lightly when he started edging the top of her robe open, never breaking their shared gaze.

Smirking, John licked his lips when one side of the garment finally gave way, revealing the top of one lace clad breast, the scalloped edges of the fine material standing out against her skin exquisitely. “That depends on what you want me to be doing,” his low, husky words were intertwined with desire and when he slid his finger beneath the strap of her bra teasingly, a shiver ran up Y/n spine. She watched closely as John crouched down behind her, just so he could lean forward and press his lips to the back of her shoulder, his straying hand travelling lower to undo the knot holding her robe closed as the other felt around her curves.

“Why don’t you put this away for now?” He probed quietly, weaning the carved box out of her smaller hands before letting a calloused palm venture to the valley between Y/n’s silken thighs, “Do you have anything important this morning?”

Reluctantly, Y/n recoiled, knowing that if they continued, she would certainly be late. “I do actually,” she cringed, her expression only falling further when John pulled away altogether, bracing himself with a grip on the cushioned armrest, offering her a look that suggested that anything but ‘no’ was the wrong answer, “I have a meeting with Balinski and his head of campaign finance. It really is important,” shifting slightly to face him, hooking one leg under herself, Y/n reached out, laying an affectionate touch on his arm, hoping he’d understand.

Huffing an exasperated sigh, “Fine,” John leaned forward to quickly peck her lips, “Rain check until this evening then,” already, he’d repositioned his hand to her lower back, his thumb rubbing absent circles into the fabric.

“Uhh,” hesitating, Y/n gnawed on her lower lip, only succumbing to telling the whole truth after John’s gentle nudging, “Maybe later in the night?” Scrunching her nose, she broached the matter with great caution, bracing herself for the worst, “I’m having dinner with Donavan tonight, we might be a while.”

Even if they’d lapsed into some semblance of a relationship, things had really just happened unconsciously; one night together turning into waking up in Y/n’s bed, intimate touches became unconscious caresses in quieter moments and steamy kisses turned to sweet endearments. They hadn’t discussed mutual exclusivity though, yet John had somehow assumed that the talk they’d had at the Continental had implied it. Or maybe he just hadn’t thought of Y/n’s relations with Donavan at all.

Sensing the shift in his mood, Y/n searched his features, “John, it’s….it’s just….we know we haven’t really figured this out yet.” In that moment, Y/n knew that whatever the right words were, she had not just used them. She did however, manage to make things worse, in record time too.

"Oh," standing abruptly, he was about to stalk off when Y/n grabbed his wrist, her eyes pleading with him to stay and hear her out as she tried to fix things, "I should go finish getting dressed," he mumbled when she wouldn't let up.

"Can we talk about this later?" Her plea was genuine, Y/n really wanted to make things right, even if she didn't quite know how to do that.

Shaking his head, John resisted, "You don't have to say that because you think it's what I want. I know what I mean to you," he huffed, finally breaking away from Y/n, "And clearly it's not the same as what you mean to me. You can do whatever you want later," he grumbled, snatching his shirt off the foot of her bed.

The legs of the little bench scraped loudly against the tile as Y/n stood, following John as he neared the door, "That is not true and you know it. But things are complicated with me and Donavan, I need to work them out and what I want later is to talk about this, about us, with you." He stopped, his hand closed in over the knob and his stance stiff, "Please John."

When he released the knob and turned back to her, Y/n let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, the tingle of relief spreading to her toes and fingers. "Fix this, by tonight, or we're done."

She wasn't used to ultimatums, or at least, Y/n wasn't used to receiving them. But she knew that arguing with John wouldn't fare well and all she wanted to have things go back to the way the were mere minutes ago, "Okay, I'll fix it and not because I think it's what you want," stepping forward, Y/n took his hand again, bringing it up to her lips and pressing a kiss to his knuckles as she drew closer, "But because of how much you mean to me and because I don't want anything or anyone to make you question that, okay?"

Swallowing thickly, John nodded slowly, bending his head so his forehead was pressed against hers, "Okay," he kissed her, his free arm engulfing Y/n as they continued, smiling at how she sighed against his lips and melted into his chest. It felt right when they were like that, as if every moment tangled up in Y/n’s arms had been meticulously orchestrated to ensure that there was nowhere else that he’d rather be. She was becoming his safe place, his haven, his peace. John didn’t know how she’d react if he told her, but he didn’t have any plans of letting her know soon anyway. Though, he did, for dear life, hang onto the hope that she felt the same, after all, what was the point of a second chance if it was going to slip right out of your grasp in the end?

She shouldn’t have felt guilty, just over a month ago, she wouldn’t have. But that evening, laying there in the mess of sheets with Donavan, right after they’d touched each other in the way they had for years, Y/n had never felt dirtier. Of course, she’d never guaranteed him exclusivity, and she had also firmly reminded herself that she had done the same with John, but still, the thought gnawed at Y/n. The wounded expression he’d flashed her that morning before playing it off and the way John had kissed her when she promised to fix things for them, like he trusted her. Not a lot of people trusted her, but knowing John did paled everything else. She did want from others what she’d found in him.

So she had to fix things. For him, for them.

Shoving the sheets down her bare body, Y/n worked on easing off the bed, ignoring Donavan until he roused her attention, “You’re leaving already?” They’d gone to his place in Manhattan and Y/n had found herself preferring it that way, at least she could leave when she wanted to, not have to pay the extra effort to drive him out. “I thought you’d stay a little longer,” he stated, a strange air about his tone as he followed her out of the bed, pulling on a pair of sweats.

“I can’t,” Y/n offered briskly, already pulling on her grey, tweed slacks, quickly looking for her blouse after closing up the front, “And I uh-”

“I have a proposal,” he cut her off, surprising Y/n just as she was shrugging on her black shirt, pausing before she could do the buttons.

Taken aback, Y/n eventually continued with the task at hand, though slowly, keeping her eyes on her old friend as he approached his dresser, rummaging through a drawer in search of a t shirt, “Okay,” she encouraged, “Well what is it?”

He was just turning, pulling on the cotton jersey before finally approaching Y/n. Donavan only stopped when he was less than a foot away, towering over her, leaving her face to face with his broad chest, “Will you marry me?”

To say the least, Y/n was definitely not expecting a literal proposal, worse yet one that casual. Though, she supposed that Donavan wasn’t the get on his knees type anyway. And she wasn’t the marry her fuck buddy type either. “Excuse me?” Was perhaps the most polite thing Y/n could muster up.

“I said-”

“I heard you,” heading to an accent chair near the bedroom door to collect her suit jacket, Y/n got into it as she spoke, chuckling and hoping her dismissiveness would speak for itself, “Donny, I think you’re mistaking this for something it's not. Why would I marry you?” Y/n chortled again quietly, her grin faltering when she met his more serious expression.

“Because I-” He cut himself off, presumably before saying something they would both regret, “Because, this partnership with Balinski could expand your enterprise, I just thought that you might need help running things. And seeing as I’m the only one that knows the ropes almost as well as you do, I thought it would be the most logical way forward.”

Smirking, Y/n shifted her weight from one leg to the next, folding her arms, “So you’re suggesting some sort of political marriage?”

“In a nutshell,” he nodded.

Humming, Y/n straighten her back, ready to clear the air once and for all so she could get back to trying to make things work with John, “The sentiment is……sweet,” she hadn’t meant for her words to sound so taunting, but they had, and there was no taking them back, “But I’m not interested. I don't want you to help run things, I’ve got this.”

Sighing heavily, Donavan seemed desperate to get her on board, “Vila,” he pleaded, “Please, just consider it.”

But Y/n was already done with the conversation, and not knowing how to let him down easy, and not thinking that he needed it anyway, she did things the way she thought best, letting her icy disposition ring through, “I don’t need to. This conversation is over,” she started out the door, collecting her handbag as she entered his living room, “And we need to stop seeing each other like this.”

“What?” Confused, he probed incredulously, following her to the door.

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow Donny,” Y/n pulled his front door open, not even sparing him one last glace, “And only at work.”

Merely two hours later, Y/n stood in front of John's door, swallowing down the events of the evening before knocking in three brisk taps. He didn't need to know the specifics, he just needed to know that she'd ended things with Donavan. Before she could even raise her fist again, he was pulling the door open, "Hi," she smiled softly, hoping he'd returned the gesture.

John took a minute to drink Y/n in. She looked so young, more like her age actually, dressed simply in a black lace robe with a short matching nightgown beneath it, her fluffy slippers not affording her much height and the absence of makeup allowing the glow of youth to radiate unhampered. She looked lovely like that, softer somehow. "Hey," John breathed, longing to reach out, but wanting to know for sure where they stood first.

She'd showered before coming to him, and that in itself said so much, too much. "How was dinner with Donavan?"

Quickly, her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, barely glancing down at herself before meeting his stare again. Y/n knew what he was thinking, and they both knew he was right. In retrospect, she couldn't really put her finger on the reasoning for having Donavan one last time; maybe it was her way of trying to soften to blow. As if to tell him that it wasn't his fault, but he just wasn't the man for her. "It went well," she began stiffly, not knowing how to continue. Y/n wasn't used to that sort of thing, and knowing that John could tell she'd been with Donavan before coming to him was making things harder. "It's over now, but John-"

She was so, so close to telling him everything. Everything that he knew, and then probably much more that he didn't. And deep down, or perhaps right on the surface, John knew it would hurt him; he didn't want to see her differently or hear her reasoning for why she'd done things that way. Besides, as long as she didn't confirm it, it could all just be in his head, and he would much rather keep guessing until he could manage to bury it down instead of hearing the painful truth. "Doesn't matter," John cut her off before anything too damaging to depart from her lips, "You're here now," he bent, pressing a slow, sensual kiss to her soft lips.

"And I wouldn't rather be anywhere else," she mumbled against John's bourbon flavored lips, letting him lead her into his bedroom, kicking the door closed behind her.

******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

#keanu reeves #john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick fanfic #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #protective service.#fanfic #fanfiction

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aurora-the-kunoichi · 4 years

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The Forgotten - Part One

So this is a self indulgent story with my OC Aurora and the guys. I’ve been thinking about this story for about a year now and I figured it was time to get it out. This angsty bullshit is S.A.I.N.W inspired. And yes it will have smut.

Feel free it put yourself in the place of Aurora

As she awoke from a restless slumber Aurora felt them shift around her, Raphael was behind her, a large arm draped protectively over her hip while her head rested on Leonardo’s lower plastron. Mikey had finagled himself between her legs, six fingers locked around her thigh in a vice grip and Donnie, the genius had somehow gotten under Leo’s legs with his face pressed into her naked midriff.

No matter how much she wanted to move the thought of disturbing their peaceful slumber seemed wrong. The bed was a mess, the aftermath of their coupling the night before prominent and the scent of their activities still heavy in the air. Not to mention the wonderful dull ache at her core.

Aurora was content and the happiest she had ever been, it didn’t matter what happened around them as long as she had them everything would be alright. Being with all four of them was constant rollercoaster of ecstasy and adventure mixed with their own brand of chaos, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. Being with four brothers willing to be intimate with one woman at the same time was extraordinary, mind blowing to say the least. Somehow, she managed to take them all in the same sitting, sometimes twice with their inhuman stamina. She had never known the possibilities of a sex life with four massive mutant turtles but usually by the end of their escapades she was exhausted, smiling like an idiot and filled with their seed. There was nothing better.

When fingers began to wind through her hair combing through her blonde locks Aurora smiled contently knowing Leonardo had woken.

“How are you feeling?” the terrapin whispered, his voice still hoarse from sleep, or perhaps from their exuberant romp from the night before?

She shifted a bit getting some annoyed mumbles from the other brothers. “I’m good, a bit sore but that is to be expected when you take four mutant turtles in one night.”

The terrapin chuckled giving her locks a gentle tug, “It’s your fault coming out the shower naked in front of four males with very high sex drives.”

“Is there another way to come out of the shower I’m not privy too?”

“There is no other way I want you to come out of that shower, that is unless your impaled on my cock.” His large green hand lifted from her hair and traveled down her cheek before a thick digit demanded entrance to her mouth. Aurora pressed her lips together tightly refusing the terrapin making him growl his displeasure. He pressed again and her lips parted taking the finger into the warmth of her mouth. Leo rumbled and rolled his hips as her tongue ran over the green invader sucking it further into her mouth.

“Fearless, you’re gonna kill her.” Raphael mumbled softly pulling Aurora closer to his chest. “I thought I’d never say this but no morning sex today. We nearly tore her in two last night.”

“I’m not made of glass Raph.”

“In that case.” Raph grunted playfully moving quickly to roll Aurora towards him and capture her mouth in a heated kiss. They ignored Leo’s protest and deepened the gesture moaning into each other’s mouths. Their lips parted and tongues collided while Raph’s hand moved down her midriff searching for her warmth but found Donnie’s head instead.

“Hey, what’s the big….oh….hey……ok, ok I’m up for another game of hide the zucchini.” The genius reached down palming his morning wood stroking himself to full mass. “Don’t let Mikey hog her this time.”

As Leo cupped a breast rolling the dark flesh of her nipple between his fingers Mikey began to stir, “Aurora.” He called gently pulling at her leg.

Raph refused to give up his prey and pushed away Donnie’s head returning to his previous quest for Aurora’s cunt.

Aurora’s thighs pressed into Mikey’s skull as Raph’s fingers slipped through her folds already soaked with her arousal sinking down to the first knuckle with ease.

“Aurora.” Mikey called again but more urgently with a hint of something she wasn’t used to hearing from the naturally happy turtle.

Breaking the kiss much to Raphael’s aggravation Aurora looked down at the youngest brother. “Yes Mike…”

Everything came to a screeching halt, the atmosphere shifted in the room quickly and unexpectedly. There was Mikey dressed in tactical black armor with a long blade pressed to her inner thigh.

“Mikey!” Aurora yelped trying to pull away from the blade but found herself pinned down by Raph and Leo’s hands unable to gain any distance. “What are you……” the words died on her lips as she looked up the eldest brothers finding them dressed in the same black garb. Gone were the soft looks and kiss bruised lips and replaced with malice and rage sending Aurora into full blown panic.

Aurora yanked at their hands, “Donnie!?” She looked to the tall turtle for help but to her horror the genius was gone. “Donatello!”

“Aurora!” Leo yelled at her with his blue eyes wide and angry. His strong hands gipped her shoulder squeezing until she screamed from the bone crunching pressure.

With a shout Aurora lurched from her bed and was met with a concerned April holding her back from racing from her sheets.

Aurora’s chest heaved in the dim lighting of her room, her heart hammering against her chest and fresh tears stinging her eyes. Her hands frantically searched around the large bed finding only cold sheets, empty of their bodies reminding her of the cold reality she had to face every time she woke.

“You were dreaming of them again weren’t you?” April’s friendly voice reminded her she wasn’t completely alone. It was a small consolation in the grand scheme of things, but Aurora was grateful for her.

“Was it that obvious?”

April’s hand left Aurora’s shoulders and sat on the edge of the bed, “You were saying their names.”

Aurora’s hand ran over her face wiping away the stray tears and huffed out her frustration. When their eyes met again April nodded seeing the kunoichi wasn’t in any mood to talk about it.

“Casey just got back; said he has something to show us.”

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll meet you in the war room.”

“Take a cold shower Aurora, it’s hot out there.”

Soon the room was empty leaving Aurora with her thoughts and a very big and very cold bed. With a heavy sigh Aurora laid back down, they haunted her almost every day, but the past few days had gotten to the point of torture.

Five years, three months and thirteen days of hell. In her mind it had seemed longer than that, but it had been that long since a man that went by the name Bishop had taken over New York. From there his reign spread like wildfire until the western seaboard was painted in blue and black.

Anyone that had been captured by Bishop’s regime resurfaced loyal to the megalomaniac a few days later but with no memory of their previous life and with an innate ability to fight. It was a mystery, even to Don.

Thankfully with the four mutant ninja turtles on the side of the resistance they stood a chance, they were the beacon of hope everyone needed. Leonardo quickly took up charge of the ground zero faction while Donnie took up the science and tech portion of the resistance. Raphael and Michelangelo followed their leader wherever he went his two right hand men followed by Casey making sure he didn’t get left out. Aurora found herself in surveillance and intel extraction while April ran the secret compound under Leonardo’s carful watch.

In the chaos of Bishops surge of domination, the unthinkable happened, Donatello disappeared from the face of the earth. One day the genius had been in his lab trying to figure out how Bishop was converting his victims in such a short time and a few hours later when Mikey had gone to check on him the genius was gone. No trace, no note, no sign of a struggle, just ….gone. Left them all without closure. Did he abandon them, did something terrible happen? All of their conclusions seemed atrocious to think about. All they knew was the genius was gone leaving giant hole in their family. It had left the resistance without their chief scientist and engineer and Aurora and his three brothers heartbroken.

That day they lost Donatello wasn’t the end of Aurora and the resistances loss, as the war began to shift in Bishop’s favor their cause was rattled to the very core with another blow. Two years, ten months and two days to be exact…..but who was counting right? It had been nearly three years since that fateful day Bishop sprung his trap. Taking the remaining three brothers from the resistance, taking them from her. That day was burned in Aurora’s memory like a hot knife slicing through her every day she woke without them.

It had been bad intel filtered through the enemies ranks to a one of their scouts, it was a testament to Bishops strategic genius. It was supposed to be a snatch and grab of a shipment of guns and ammo they so desperately needed for their cause. But as turtle luck would have it, a trap was waiting for them; a well thought out trap that left Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo captured struggling for freedom inside an electric charged lined box and Aurora along with the rest of their team fighting for their lives.

Aurora didn’t remember screaming as they were stolen away in that turbulent storm but Casey and several of her men remembered. It haunted the men for days afterwards making most of them to avoid the frantic kunoichi.

It took four consecutive days of no food or sleep and hysterical unsuccessful searching for the turtles for April and Casey to finally force Aurora to bed with a well-placed sedative in her tea. It proved just how exhausted Aurora was to not notice the drug in her tea. She was trained to sense foreign substances in her food but when April set the warm cup in her hands Aurora drank the tea without thought.

She slept for two days straight afterwards and woke with new determination and a fiery anger. But it fizzled after two longs years of searching, reconnaissance and research. They were no closer to finding the location of the turtles then they were when they were first taken. It was becoming hopeless and the hope the turtles instilled had faded from the rebellion.

It wasn’t until they hit the two-and-a-half-year mark when Aurora, Casey and a handful of their men were staking out a truck loaded with some unknown tech when their world came crashing down around them.

Aurora entered into her private bathroom that was meant for her and four giant behemoths and turned on the shower. The racks that held their towels were empty. The towels long ago lost their scents so they were packed away in little hope of their owners returning. Leaning into the lukewarm spray Aurora ran her fingers over the long scar on her abdomen remembering that horrid day. The day they found the three missing brothers and the agony of losing them all over again.

It had been a cold fall night in late October and the intel they had gotten showed a manifest of unknown tech that required a special unit to make sure it made it to its destination. It had to be important so they had to intercept it, it might be the edge they needed to help them finally turn the tables.

There were four large SUV’s in the convoy, two in front and two tailing the large semi with no markings. Aurora and Casey followed closely on the roof tops watching the semi make its way towards its destination. After traveling to a mostly abandoned part of town they ordered the strike and the team converged on the convoy. Their team took to the vehicles while Aurora and her hockey fanatic friend took the cab of the semi.

Casey jumped on the door smashing through the glass of the driver’s door knocking the driver in the face and gripped the wheel. “License and registration!” the masked man yelled with glee punch drunk on smashing some skulls. It had been a while since they had some action, just like Raphael Casey thrived off violence. It got their blood pumping and the thrill made for a rather enthusiastic night of fucking. April and Aurora’s sore bodies the next day were evidence to their prowess.

Aurora landed on top of the cab watching her friend have his fun ready to assist when a loud shuttering bang shook the metal she was perched on.

“This party is invitation only blondie, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

That voice, that fucking voice, her blood slowed in her veins while her body started to shake uncontrollably, “Raphael?” The hockey player and mission forgotten Aurora turned around to the ominous hulking frame of the brute, her brute. He was dressed head to toe in black combat armor, but his red mask remained, a cruel jab from Bishop no doubt. On his hands were fingerless gloves gripped tightly around his twin sai and that signature smirk played on his beautiful scared lips. It was still apparent the brute still worked out…a lot, she had no idea he could become more defined. In the moonlight the ridges of his muscles seemed to stick out more. Fuck he looked good.

Her body moved on its own at the familiar sight of the red banded turtle. She allowed a choking sob break free as her arms came out reaching for the mutant. Unfortunately, the first contact from Raphael in three years was Aurora’s arm getting grabbed and roughly turned around rammed up against the front of the trailer with the business end of his sai in her spine.

His weight pressed into her body and his scent filled her senses dulling her response time. “Listen here bitch, I don’t know how you know my name but there is no touching the fucking turtle.” His deep voice had venom to it as he dug the tip into her back gaining a pained cry from his captive.

“Yeah not without buying him a drink first.” Another familiar voice came from above taking another painful squeeze of her heart.

“Mikey!” Aurora screamed looking up to the vibrate baby blues of the youngest brother. “It’s me…oww fuck..it’s Aurora!”

“Sorry lady you’re easy on the eyes in all but I got no clue who you are? All I know is you’re some place you’re not supposed to be, and we have a problem with that.” The end of Mikey’s chuck came down tapping at the top of her head. “But if you ask real nice, I’m sure I can convince Raphael here not to rip your arms off.”

As if on cue the brute tugged back on her arms painfully. “Not likely. It’s been a grip since I’ve had some action.”

The semi shuttered as the gears ground to a rolling stop, Casey must have gotten the driver out or subdued. She hoped the man had brought an extra pair of underwear because he was about to shit himself. The door opened and her unsuspecting friend began to climb up to where she was, “Aurora, what are you doin…holy fucking shit! RAPHAEL! MIKEY!”

Aurora pushed back into Raphael to give herself some room to move, “They don’t know us. They’re with him, be careful I haven’t seen Le…” as the color drained from Casey’s face and the cold steal of his katana pressed against her throat Aurora knew they had found the leader, or he had found them.

“We don’t deal in mercy,” Leo’s cold voice came from next to her, she hadn’t even heard him get on the truck. “Especially with thieves. Secure her Raphael, Mikey get Friday the 13th there.”

Casey yelped out his alarm and jumped back just as the smallest of the brothers tore after him.

“I love when they run.”

Raphael secured her arms more pulling her away from the semi so Leo could get a better look at their prisoner.

Aurora’s heart was going crazy as she looked upon his handsome face. He had the same dark clothes, but his protective armor was blue differing from Raph and Mikey’s black. His long sleeves had been pulled up to his elbows showing off his tattoo Mikey had given him so many years ago. Just like Raphael he had kept to a strict workout routine. Every part of him looked thicker, dense and mouthwatering. The scowl on his face on the other hand made the leader look dangerous, something Leo wasn’t supposed to look, not to her anyways.

“She knew my name and Mikey’s.”

“Is that so? We have never crossed paths; how do you know my brother’s names?” Leo stepped closer adjusting the long blade of his katana so it rested on her carotid artery.

“I know you’re name too Leonardo.”

His mouthed opened to speak but an explosion rocked the trailer knocking both terrapins off balance. Aurora took the opportunity and lifted her knees and kicked the blue banded turtle in the plastron sending her and Raphael back and off the truck.

Raphael’s shell took the brunt of the impact as they connected with the worn-out asphalt and with the momentum of their fall they rolled. In the commotion Raphael’s grip loosened allowing her to escape and roll free from his arms. As she pulled her katana free and readied herself bullets began to rain down.

“Casey!”

“Over here with our little ball of sunshine! If I’m not mistaken, I think he’s gotten better!”

Aurora looked to the front of the parked semi and saw Casey struggling against Michelangelo.

“I could use a little help!”

“She’s a little preoccupied at the moment.” She heard Raph growl to her friend as Leo joined him.

Aurora retreated with each step they took towards her. They looked like to jungle cats stalking their prey, every step smooth and calculated. No matter the situation it was breath taking to witness even if she was at the receiving end of their wrath. Both of the alpha males had that look in their eyes as they stalked forward, hungry and determined. Usually that look sent heat to her core but today it only instilled fear because they were here to make her scream in another way today.

“Come one Leo, Raph, how do you not know who I am?” her hands adjust the hilts in her palms and lowered her stance. “I need you to remember me, you love me.”

This made both the terrapins bark with laughter.

“Love you? Fuck lady I wouldn’t mind seeing what’s under that outfit of yours, but I don’t love ya.” Raphael howled in jest coming closer. “I could love parts of ya.”

Leo’s smile faded quickly and advanced on Aurora lifting his katana to his shoulder, “A trick no doubt, she must be part of the resistance we need to take her for questioning. Capture do not kill, are we clear?”

“Yeah yeah fearless, crystal clear. She needs ta be breathin’.”

Then it began, both attacking with the speed she knew all too well. The only advantage to this fight was they didn’t remember Aurora had trained with them; hell, she had even taught them moves in their years together.

Per usual Raphael advanced first sai out searching for the soft meat of her torso. He was predictable always straight forward so she knew what he was going to do next. Aurora dropped to one knee spinning from the jab just in time to block the twin blades belonging to Leonardo. Keeping the pressure on his blades the kunoichi turned her hips and kicked the brute in the chest plates sending him back on his shell with an angry grunt. She returned her attention to the main threat and pushed back against him. The metal sang and sparked from the force of their combined strength and the stoic frown plastered on Leo’s lips twisted up into a delighted leer.

“You have skills.”

“You have no idea.” Lunging up her skull connected with his and she pushed. Startled by her quick move the terrapin gave to her strength and his blades went up losing one in the process.

Dropping to her knees she spun kicking his feet out from under him and Leo went down hard. He responded in kind using his shell to his advantage spinning to return the favor. Jumping to his feet Leo took up his lost blade and advanced on Aurora who was already at her feet.

By now Raphael had recovered and was just behind her and didn’t wait for an invitation. He lunged forward wrapping his arms around her shoulders. Aurora sheathed her weapons and used his momentum against him. Turning her body she gripped the thick forearms and bent forward pulling the terrapin up and over her shoulders. The move caught the brute off guard and unwittingly followed through nearly hitting his older brother who side stepped the hurtling green mass.

“Impressive, you just lifted 400 pounds over your shoulders. Only Michelangelo and I can manage that. Who taught you how to do that?” Leonardo lowered to a ready stance and cocked his head.

“You did.”

“Impossible.”

“Is it now, do you want another demonstration?”

Leo nodded, “Indeed I do.” He shot for her but this time Aurora grabbed a wrist and kicked forward, the bottom of her foot colliding with his knee. It gave out and she pulled him to her and flipped him over her knee and onto his shell.

Wasting no time Aurora straddled his waist and with the flick of her wrist a katana came free pressing the blade to the thick column of his neck, “Your down fall was underestimating me. I know more about you then you do of me.”

The massive terrapin relaxed under her weight keeping his hands at his side. “Perhaps, but you have done the same. You tell stories about us knowing each other, even talking about love which means you won’t do anything to hard us. My brothers and I on the other hand have no knowledge of the fact which means we won’t extend the same courtesy.”

Before she knew it the cold sheet of his kunai sliced through the soft tissue of her midriff spilling warm blood across his lower stomach. And the man who had told her he would never harm her pushed her onto her back wrapping his hands around her throat. He shifted his weight which sufficiently pinned her under him unable to free her body .

As her oxygen was cut off she could hear Raphael behind him, “I thought you wanted this one alive?”

“This one is dangerous, it’s best to rid ourselves or her. Hopefully Mikey kept that human male alive.”

She could maneuver around him and match his skill set but when it came to brute strength Leo had her beat 10/1. There was no way she was going to pry his hands from her throat. Her nails dug into the green scales of his wrists hoping to get a few inches to get air but only managed to gurgle a whimper. She could feel the warmth of her blood slipping down her sides and pooling under her body, Leonardo was going to kill her.

His blue eyes bore down on her watching the life leave her body but it brought him no pleasure. Something inside him screamed for her release but Bishop wouldn’t be pleased with that outcome. She was the enemy and any high ranking resistance members were to be illuminated.

Pressing down on her wind pipe Leo leaned down taking a pull of her scent. He froze and took a few deep breaths against her shoulder. It was familiar, her scent warmed his insides, and it was a strange feeling.

“AURORA!”

Her vision began to fade as her brain began to shut down, her throat was on fire and her body began to seize. Then her chest began to hurt like it was caving in on itself, this was death, it hurt. At least she got to see them one last time.

Suddenly a barrage of bullets came their way ricocheting off Leo and Raph’s shells. Back up had arrived and swarmed the space. Leo’s hands released Aurora’s throat as Casey came hurtling towards him knocking Leo from her body.

The next thing Aurora knew she was in the infirmary back at headquarters waist wrapped in bandages and unable to speak due to the swelling in her throat. April had told her that the truck was lost and Leo, Raph and Mikey had gotten away. The mission was a bust but at least they knew they were still in New York. That was something.

That was six months ago and they had yet to run into the brothers again.

With the water running cold Aurora finished up her shower and got dressed in a black leggings and a soft grey tank top. When she reached the war room she found it filled with April, Casey and a handful of their most trusted men and woman.

“Welcome back ya goon.” Aurora wrapped her arms around her friend’s shoulders kissing his cheek. “Took longer then you planned. She’s been driving me up the wall with her mother henning.”

April’s hands went to her hips scowling at the kunoichi. “Hey!”

“Better you than me!”

“No it’s not… so what did you find out?”

Casey hoisted a bag up on the large table centered in the middle of the large room with a thud. His fingers hesitated on the zipper and smiled wickedly, “We know how he’s controlling them.”

@imthegreenfairy88 @ravn-87

Here it is on AO3

#tmnt #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt fandom #tmnt fic #TMNT TMNT fanfiction #The Forgotten #Part One #Aurora the kunoichi #fivesome #relationship with all four

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donatello-writes · 4 years

Text

Not Quite Human - Part IV

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Mystified by your date's bizarre actions, you wandered about your apartment, racking your brain as to where you'd gone wrong. Overthinking was your specialty, and you feared that perhaps you moved too fast, making him feel uncomfortable. Mortification painted your face as you hoped that wasn't the reason. Noticing Noodle sniffing around excitedly by the couch, you walked over to see what he was so interested in. Kneeling down for a closer look, you found a few pale green flecks dotting your carpet. They were lightly iridescent with a rough texture, almost like the skin of a snake. "...Are these...Scales?"

The sound of labored breath, laden with guilt, echoed through the otherwise silent midnight alleyways of New York city. Donatello felt like a fugitive fleeing from the scene of a crime as he darted from rooftop to rooftop, further distancing himself from you. The crisp October air burned his throat, but not as badly as the words left unsaid. He failed to have the courage to finally come clean about what he actually was: a mutant. The fear that surrounded him admitting his truth to you was paralyzing, knowing the outcome would most likely result in him never seeing you again. There was no chance that someone as perfect as you would want to be with a freakish reject like him. Beauty and the Beast is a lovely story, but things like that never happened in real life.

Engrossed in thought, he was unprepared when his two-toed feet split through the small converse shoes, causing him to lose footing and tumble across the next rooftop. As he laid face-first on the cold and unforgiving concrete, he vowed to replace the shoes he'd destroyed, they were Mikey's after all. The human-turtle hybrid moved to get up, only to remain on the ground when a sharp pain shot down his back. He involuntarily coiled into a ball in preparation for the worst part of the change. The smooth skin on his back began to crawl before hardening as it reformed into his carapace.

Wincing, the Donatello hugged his own body for comfort. To distract himself from the pain, he focused on the sound of the sweatshirt slowly tearing apart as it surrendered to his expanding form. He felt terrible for destroying your belonging, but due to the intense stress of the moment, he was unable to remove it in time. It wasn't long before his shell triumphantly burst through the clothing, regaining it's rightful place on his back. The mutant breathed a sigh of relief, it was all over. Removing his glasses, and retrieving his mask from his pants pocket, he tied it back onto his face. Surveying his surroundings, he located a nearby manhole and quickly slipped down into it.

Staggering through the sewer tunnels, vision doubled, Donatello struggled to even keep himself upright. Sewage splashed up onto his bare legs with each heavy step that he took. What little material that remained of his tattered jeans clung to his larger mutant form snugly, making movement difficult. This wasn't good. For the first time, he actually felt woozy following his change. Why are the after effects so adverse this time? He thought, mind swiftly consumed by worry. Thankfully, the journey wasn't long, and the lights of the lair soon illuminated his path.

The fatigued terrapin stumbled back into the lair, breathing still strained. Wobbling legs that had been threatening instability the entire jaunt home, finally gave out, and he collapsed like a newborn baby deer. Normally he would have rested before returning home, but he wasn't thinking clearly in his agitated state. Alarmed by the less than graceful entrance, his brothers rushed to his aid. Leonardo was the first at his side, followed closely by the others.

"Donnie, what happened? Where's all of your tech?" the leader in blue questioned.

"I...was attacked by foot soldiers...They ambushed me, I barely escaped...They took everything, but thankfully I awoke before they could do anything else." He lied again, something he abhorred, but had been doing a surprising amount of lately. Mikey tried his best not to react, knowing full well that his older brother's story was likely untrue.

Somehow the genius managed to convince his brethren that he was fine, and stole away to his laboratory. How was he going to explain this to you? After leaving without so much as a goodbye out the bathroom window of your high rise apartment unit. That, in and of itself, would be quite difficult to explain without telling you the truth. Worst part of all being the very moment at which he departed. The two of you were getting rather intimate, and if not for his pesky changing form, he would have stayed. The last thing he wanted you to think was that he wasn't interested in you that way. As if any of that even mattered at this point. Once you saw his true form, that flame of desire would surely die.

Clearly his homemade ooze was unstable, it's effectiveness dwindling with each use. Time was a cruel mistress and refused Donatello any leeway. There was a limit to how many more times he'd be able to turn human, and honestly, he wasn't sure how much much more of it he could take. The formula was still incomplete. There was a key ingredient missing, and he couldn't figure out what.

***************************************

Back at your apartment, you collected the cluster of scales discovered after Donatello's bizarre and hasty departure. Digging a microscope out of the closet and unboxing the device, you carefully set it up. Slipping the scales between slides and under the lens, you examined them. Following some tests, the scales were identified as being of the common North American box turtle. Perhaps Donatello has a pet turtle? It was just odd, as turtles usually shed similarly to snakes, in large sloughs rather than individual scales.

As with most cases where you were in need of immediate answers, you turned to the internet. While navigating the seemingly unending information on box turtles, you happened upon a video. It was an excerpt from a nature documentary explaining their mating habits. The narrator prattled on in his proper English accent about how the males emit what was described as a churr, followed by footage of a male box turtle making an extremely familiar sound. Immediately recognizing it, you sat at your desk for a moment, completely stunned. It was almost identical to the sound you'd heard coming from Donatello.

This new bit of intrigue encouraged further investigation. With the few supplies that you had, you assembled everything needed to conduct a rudimentary DNA test. Running into your laundry room, you retrieved his signature flannel shirt. Upon careful inspection of the garment, you managed to find a hair that you could use for analysis. You placed the hair besides the scales under the lens and had a look. Moving your eye from the microscope, you gasped. Somehow, the structural appearance of each seemed to almost match.

"But that would mean...There's no way."

The tools required to conduct a proper test were not at your disposal, so you were quick to doubt the accuracy of the results. If your hypothesis was correct, Donatello would easily fit the description of those beings you'd heard about on the news. Considering the strides in genetic research that had occurred within the past decade, the existence of such a genetic marvel wasn't completely ludicrous. However, one fact remained: all of this was nothing but speculation until proven. This realization brought your wild theorizing to a halt.

Perhaps a goodnight's sleep would help to clear your restless mind.

Merely an hour or so after your head hit the pillow, a ruckus reverberated down the alley outside of your apartment, stirring you from fitful slumber. Understandably irked by the rude awakening, you grumbled and rolled over in your bed. The sound of a familiar voice among the others swiftly quelled your annoyance, prompting you to venture out of bed and over to the window.

"Donnie...?"

The name came out in the form of a whisper as you gazed skyward to the origin of the commotion. It was difficult to make out detail in the veil of night, but what you could see were four humanoid silhouettes on the rooftop of a neighboring building. The longer you stared, the more you came to realize that these figures weren't human. They had what appeared to be shells on their backs...turtles? Your eyes were drawn to one of them, specifically. The one who appeared to be decorated with various pieces of electronic equipment.

Why do I feel like I know him somehow?

Further investigation was in order. Clumsily stepping through the window, you made your way out onto the fire escape. Still hazy from sleep, little attention was paid to your footing. One misstep was all it took to send you over the rail with a yelp. Thanks to quick reflexes, you managed to grab onto it, leaving you dangling from a dangerous height.

Fingers losing grip with every passing second, it wasn't long before you finally began to fall. Knowing ground impact was immanent, you shut your eyes tight. But instead of hitting the hard pavement, you found yourself being whisked upward. Someone had caught you. Rough, scaly arms surrounded you, holding on tight and trembling ever so slightly. He didn't speak, but he didn't need to, his expression spoke volumes. Jaw dropped, releasing ragged breath, and eyes visibly ravaged by worry from behind his...tortoise shell glasses. This realization came too late, however, as you made the mistake of looking down. Dizziness assaulted your vision and the world swiftly went dark.

Once he climbed your fire escape, his tension eased to see that you had fallen unconscious. That eliminated any awkward questions that he couldn't answer. His voice was too recognizable to you. It could give him away or, at the very least, cause suspicion.

Gently, he laid you down onto the bed. Bringing the covers over you, he then lovingly tucked you in. He couldn't resist resting a hand softly on your cheek. So warm against his cold palm, a reminder of how different you were. It was easy to forget at times while waltzing around in human skin.

Just as he turned to leave, you shifted in your bed and mumbled, "Donnie..." He shuddered at the sound of his own name. Peering over his shoulder, a sigh of relief left him to see that you were still out cold.

It was just a coincidence, he told himself.

***************************************

Awakening with a start, you were bewildered to find yourself in bed. "B-but...impossible."

Throwing off the covers, you ran back to the window, gazing up to find the mysterious creatures had long since vanished. Before falling you could have sworn that you heard Donatello, but it all happened so quickly that you started to doubt yourself. With your crack theory regarding the nerdy lad all but consuming your thoughts as of late, you weren't all that surprised.

It was just a dream...right?

The next day, he called. Despite him being the one who initiated the conversation, you were the first to begin.

“Donnie! About yesterday...If I made you feel uncomfortable at any point, I am so, so sorry.”

“No! That wasn’t it at all! I called to apologize to you.” there was a momentary pause as he collected his thoughts before continuing, “I’ve never been with another person in that way and I just got a bit...overwhelmed.”

Though you maintained that jumping out a window was not the best choice, you understood. Nerves can make a person do crazy things.“Well, if that ever happens again, can you promise me one thing?”

“Of course, anything.”

“Next time, please use the front door.” snorts and laughter came from the other end as he agreed to your terms. After a bit of talking, the two of you made plans to meet up. Excitedly stuffing all of your necessities into your backpack, you immediately headed out.

***************************************

"You forgot something the other night." with a broad smile you then handed over the flannel shirt, neatly folded and cleaned. The scent of lavender and vanilla laundry detergent clung to the material, filling the air with it's pleasant aroma. "It seems as though you're determined to have me keep this."

Noticing a curious purple rag poking out of his pants pocket, you swiped it for further investigation. It looked so familiar, but you couldn't place where you'd seen it before. He jerked after feeling the item leave his pocket and turned to you. Gears were already turning in his head, preparing his answer to whatever you were about to say.

Upon further examination of the brilliantly colored cloth, you came to discover two specifically cut holes in it. Additionally, there were designs up and down both sides. One appeared to be Japanese kanji and the other...*an icon of a turtle*. That was it! The terrapin rescuer of your dreams was wearing a mask almost identical to this one.

"Is this a...mask?"

Without missing a beat, Donatello replied, "Yes, because I'm secretly a crime fighting superhero by night." He said, laughing a bit louder than necessary.

"You did mention that you work at night...The pieces of the Donnie puzzle are finally coming together." with a wry smirk, you played along with his comical hypothetical. As he reached out to reclaim his possession, you swiftly tied to onto your face.

Puckering your lips goofily, you then requested his opinion, "How do I look?" adding to the humorous display with hands on both hips and a sassy rolling of the shoulders.

"I'm not going to lie...you look good in purple. Unfortunately, now I will have to kill you because you know my secret identity. It's such a shame too...I was really starting to like you, we had a good run." as the two of you exchanged a laugh, he wrapped his arms around you; using this as a distraction to remove the mask. "Now, are we just going to fool around or are we going on a date?"

***************************************

Within the next few months, when Donatello wasn't working on the ooze formula, he was out with you. The more time that you spent together, the more he couldn't help but worry about telling you the truth. He was leaving a crucial fact out of the equation: that he wasn't exactly human...Well, not completely. Guilt ate away at his delicate conscience, his anxiety surrounding the matter only worsening with each passing day. The night that you shared together was a close call. It was only a matter of time before it somehow surfaced whether planned or unexpected. Not wanting circumstances to come to the latter, he resolved to tell you on his own terms. It was just a matter of finding the right time.

Going over the plans for the evening in his head, Donatello gathered everything he needed for the night. Dinner, a movie, and a walk through the park. That would allow more than enough time to return to your apartment, and for him to confess to you before the ooze's effectiveness wore off. Without the visual, his story would be hard to believe. A much as it pained him to think of you watching his gruesome shift in form, it needed to be done.

With a heavy sigh, he headed away from the lair and deep into the sewers to take the ooze. Following his change, he donned a Queen t-shirt and squirmed uncomfortably while fitting his suspenders over his shoulders. It felt strange wearing his usual cargo pants. Not only were they ill-fitting on his smaller human body, but they also served to mark the end. The end of being human, the end of being normal, the end of being...with you.

The final touch: his purple flannel over shirt. It would undoubtedly be torn apart when he reverted back, and he couldn't think of a better way to get rid of it. He couldn't keep the article of clothing after all that it came to stand for. The outfit was far from fashionable, but at that point in time, he was in need of functionality. He didn't bother to remove his goggles, there was no point, she'd already seen them. Bedsides, it'd be far better to be prepared in case anything happened.

***************************************

"Nice suspenders, you're really playing up the hot nerd look, huh?" You joked.

Making a point to adjust his glasses he replied, "You know you like it."

Shooting him a smirk, you grabbed hold of his suspenders and pulled him into a kiss. "Oh, I definitely do...And I surrender, the nerdy allure is too much for me to handle! Have mercy!" You both chuckled as you made your way to the restaurant.

Hopping seamlessly from dinner to movie, the date was just as normal as any other. However, once you left the theater and headed off to your next destination, Donatello leaned in and whispered, "I don't mean to alarm you, but...It appears that we have chaperones accompanying our date. They're undoubtedly looking for revenge after what I did to them before." He concluded, and you breathed a sigh of relief. He still didn't know that they were after you, specifically.

After a series of twists, turns, and misdirections that would make even the Scooby Doo gang dizzy, it seemed you had thrown the ruffians off your trail. The detour had taken a decent chunk of time, and by now it was already dark. Given how far you both were from her apartment, he was forced to find a secluded place where there'd be no threat of him being seen as he transformed.

A rooftop.

Taking your hand in his, he led you up a nearby fire escape. You didn't question it, figuring this was still part of your evading the current threat. Once the two of you reached the top, stared up at the sky wistfully before turning to you. Gazing deep into your eyes, he wasn't sure where to begin. After everything that had transpired that night, his time frame was limited. Within the hour, the effects of the ooze would cease and his true appearance revealed.

Noticing his unease, you wrapped your arms around him. The tips of your fingers traced up and down the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. You followed with a delicate touch of the lips. He savored every kiss that you granted him, knowing this would all come to an end once you knew what he really was...a monster...those words still echoed in Donatello's head from that terrible night at the Police station. His analytical brain made sense of the situation, he'd rationalized long ago that what those police had said came from a place of ignorance; however, knowing that fact didn't make their words hurt any less.

"Y/N...I...I haven't been myself lately." He began, words slow and heavy.

Puffing a chuckle, you replied, "It's okay, it happens to the best of us."

"No. You don't understand, I-I'm not hu--"

Angry shouts cut Donatello off from his confession. The Purple Dragons who had been following the two of you earlier had managed to locate you once more. Effortlessly scooping you up into his arms, your beau made a mad dash for the fire escape. While descending the stairs, your phone wriggled free from your pocket and plummeted down to the concrete below. You let out an involuntary shriek as it did so.

"S-sorry, I'll get you a new one!" He promised as you finally reached the bottom. Without hesitation, he then bolted down the alleyway with impressive speed. You looked back to see a few new thugs had joined the chase and were not far behind. The change was upon him, and in a panic, he hastened his pace. He was paying little attention to navigation, but thankfully you were. Recognizing the area, you shouted at Donatello to stop. Unfortunately, the warning came too late, he'd already turned to face a dead end.

Pain finally gripped him and he froze, allowing the pursuers to catch up. Nestled in his arms, you could feel his muscles twitching incessantly, begging to regain their proper form. Surveying his surroundings, there were no fire escapes, no windows, nothing to grab onto to make a getaway. The only thing in this alley was a faulty streetlight that flickered weakly, offering an eerie lighting to the already tense situation.

***************************************

Your piercing screech echoed down the streets, making it's way to the ears of a certain leader in blue. Out with only two of his brothers, he couldn't ignore such an apparent cry of distress. Following the sound, they came to find only the Purple Dragons all converging on one point. Clearly they were up to nothing good, so they silently followed from the rooftops. Eventually coming upon the objects of the chase: a young, unassuming couple.

Raphael tilted his head, perplexed, as he concentrated his gaze on the stranger below, "Hey, doesn't that guy look kinda familiah?" He inquired, nudging his little brother.

"Nope, nope...Haven't seen that dude before in my life." Michelangelo straightened up, trying his best not to seem suspicious. Knowing it was Donatello, and concerned for his safety, the orange masked turtle added, "Should we go down there and help them?" He then looked to his older brethren for guidance. Both of them traded glances before surveying the scene below one more time. The heroic young man was poised to fight off his attackers, and he didn't appear to be a stranger to combat, judging from his solid fighting stance, and the fierce expression on his face.

Leonardo shook his head decisively, "No, if it's not absolutely necessary for us to intervene, we won't. We are not going to risk being seen over a small skirmish." the leader had spoken, and he directed his younger team members to follow him away from the stand-off. Not but a second later, the human man prepared to dish our the much deserved beating that his assailants were begging for.

This was a dead end in every sense of the phrase. Standing between you and the enemy, Donatello held his place firmly. He would do anything it took to ensure your safety. As if some otherworldly force were at work in his favor, just as the miscreants prepared for attack, the streetlight cut out. Scant beams of moonlight streamed in from between the lofty buildings and offered little light to the scene. Low gasps and groans of displeasure came from the Purple Dragons, but not him. He was completely at home in the shadows.

Drawing in a deep breath, Donatello began fighting off the group, and defend you. They all rushed at him, despite their limited vision, and the game was set. Maneuvering through the group with calculated grace, he easily evaded the flurry of fists and weapons. His strikes were deliberate, without a hint of hesitation. There was no time for flourishes like the last fight, this time he was all business. Admittedly, he was putting on a bit of a show to impress you the last time he faced off against these thugs.

Leonardo motioned for his brothers to follow him away from the scene, and the both nodded. Turning back to catch one last glimpse of the show, Raphael's eyes widened. He recognized those fighting movements instantly, they were exactly the same as what he and his brothers learned from Master Splinter. "Guys. Check out this nerd's moves."

Well aware that his shift in form was upon him, Donatello was forced to ignore it, and focus on the fight. Scales began to replace skin, and the sound of tearing fabric rang out into the quieted night. His darkened form appeared to be growing, but that couldn't be possible. A single flash from the streetlight gave you a glimpse of your heroic beau, half-turned. It was only for a split second, but enough.

The two oldest brothers watched in disbelief as this gangly human man slowly took the familiar shape of their brother, far too stunned by what their eyes were beholding to take action. Michelangelo shifted uncomfortably, being privy to the secret, trying to pretend like he was equally as surprised. The leader was speechless, not entirely sure of what he had just witnessed. While beside him, the red brute showed the most visible reaction. A myriad of emotions swept over the red masked turtle's face--shock, fear, and disgust, before finally settling on his usual: anger.

As the transformation persisted, so did Donatello's attackers. He wanted to double over, but couldn't let up his defense for a second. All that he could do was grit his teeth, and tolerate the pain as he continued fending off the assault. There were far too many enemies for him to be concerned with his change at this point in time. Meanwhile, his practically blind assailants were oblivious to his shifting form.

It wasn't until he took down the last of his opponents, and reached for your hand, that he finally came crashing back down to reality from his adrenaline high. His three-pronged, green, scaly hand was outstretched before him, mere inches away from yours. At which point, the streetlight finally decided to remain on, shining brightly down on the newly turned mutant like a spotlight. The otherworldly force was not so benevolent after all.

The orange and red masked brothers were prepared to jump down and interrupt, but Leonardo quickly stopped them. "No...we're not needed here." He stated, knowing this was time that you and Donatello needed alone. The wise leader was able to read the situation effortlessly. Putting the disappointment that he was feeling on the back burner, he chose empathy. Knowing that his sibling was already stressed, he didn't want to compound that by getting involved at this moment.

"Whut??? Didja not see our brother just--" the burly terrapin readied his argument, but was swiftly silenced by the head of the team. "Enough, we're not interfering. We can discuss this with Donnie later, but right now...They need to be alone."

Coming to the realization that you had just witnessed him transform for the first time, Donatello's eyes grew wide with horror and he quickly withdrew his hand. He wished this had happened under better circumstances, but these were the cards that he was dealt. Dread flashed over his features as you stared back at him, transfixed. The expression on your face appeared almost identical to the one in his nightmare. Anxiety at it's peak, he backed away like a frightened animal and absconded without saying a word. There was nothing to be said, his monstrous form spoke for itself, telling the story of his deceit.

The mutant's departure was so swift that he didn't hear your plea for him to stay. By the time you'd found words, he had already disappeared into the night. You stood there, surrounded by fallen enemies, and the many tattered pieces of his flannel shirt that laid strewn about the alley. Kneeling down, one by one you carefully collected the pieces of material. After retrieving every last shred, you stepped over the unconscious men and slowly made your way home in a daze.

Once he had returned to the lair, Donatello shut himself away in his room, head reeling from what had just occurred. The look of fear on your face replayed endlessly in his head as if it were a video on loop. He didn't expect you to accept him like this, he was an abomination of both nature and science. He only wanted for you to be able to lead a normal life, and he was unable to give you that. Knowing this fact made his heart ache.

Surely you wouldn't want to see him again, he concluded pessimistically. Not after watching someone you thought was human horrifically transform into a monster before your very eyes. Someone you trusted...and maybe even...loved? He quickly erased that possibility from his mind, you'd never return your affection for him like this...as a mutant. You loved the human Donatello, and that was the reality of the situation.

You returned to your apartment, utterly dumbfounded by the recent events. From your brief infiltration of Dr. Stockman's laboratory, you knew that he made unbelievable breakthroughs in genetic engineering. Though you were not privy to the specifics of his work, rumors flew within the scientific community that he'd found a way to modify human and animal DNA with his miraculous purple serum. You didn't believe these insane claims, it was something like that seemed unachievable. Despite the fact that you'd been hired to purloin said formula, you still weren't convinced of it's effectiveness. Was Donatello really a human-animal hybrid? Even though you'd witnessed him change into his half-animal form right in front of you, if was still difficult to swallow.

"He's...incredible."

...to be continued.

Tagged a few folks who asked to be:

@ali-on-reverie @fullvoidmoon @notaliteraltoad

#aaand it's done #I sure hope it was worth the wait #cause I don't feel like it was #*dies*#I struggled with this part for some reason I'm sorry guys #I'm just happy that I finished it #bayverse tmnt #tmnt fan fic #tmnt x reader #donatello x reader #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #fan fiction #my writing #don's quill pen #not quite human

246 notes · View notes

homesweetsewer · 5 years

Text

Consolation Prize: Part 3 (Donatello x Fem Reader)

Hello! Part 3 is finally here (yay)! So glad I finally got some time this evening to work on this...its been killing me! I have one more part lined up to finish this one off and them I’m thinking of either doing an April-centric tie-in OR maybe a little Donnie x Reader intimate action OR maybe both if ya’ll are digging it. Let me know what you think :)

Anywho, I’ll drop the links to the rest of this little saga below since quite a few of you have told me you appreciate having everything in one place.

Harmless: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Radiant: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Consolation Prize: Part 1, Part 2

Donatello rolled out of bed long before his alarm had ever gone off. Truthfully, He hadn’t really gone to sleep other than an intermittent light doze punctuated by dark nightmares in which you broke up with him over his unintentional neglect. Each time he’d been jolted back into an uneasy wakefulness, lying in his bed and staring at the ceiling as his conversation with Raph played over and over in his mind. Worry ate incessantly at him. Were things really so bad that he was actually at risk of losing you?

His stomach twisted in knots as he picked his way through the darkened lair towards the kitchen, his mind focused as he worked through different scenarios to earn your forgiveness. As if on autopilot, he set a pot of coffee to brew and reached for a box of strawberry pop tarts. He hummed to himself as he ripped open the foil package and released the pastries from their confines. Absently, he licked the frosting from first one and then the other before slipping them back into the pack and replacing the box before reaching for his favorite coffee cup and pouring himself a healthy dose of the freshly brewed, caffeinated beverage.

Sipping the scalding liquid carefully, he finalized the details of his plan as he made his way toward his lab. The door swung silently open and his nimble fingers sought out the light switch with practiced familiarity, flicking it on and flooding the space with brightness before shouldering the door closed behind himself. He retreated to his chair, seating himself behind his desk, ignoring the various monitors that hummed and buzzed with incoming data and information, as well as the various half finished projects he had scattered about the room. He’d get to work later but right now he had a more important priority. The most important priority he now realized.

He took another steadying drink of coffee before reaching for his phone. In his head, he ran over the words he’d say and hoped you were in a forgiving mood. He scrolled through his contacts which were admittedly few. He was a mutant turtle after all and, as such, his social circle was limited to put it mildly. He found your name easily and tapped on it, a whimsical smile tugged at his lips as he took a moment to admire the photo he’d saved to your contact information. It was a photo that his youngest brother had snapped, long before he’d had any inkling of his true feelings for you, and it remained one of his favorites.

“Alright, fam,” Mikey had instructed, “squish together and smile!”

The two of you had already been seated closely together on the couch and you hadn’t hesitated to snuggle yourself into his side and wrap your arms around him. He’d pulled you closer, one arm around your shoulders and the other around your waist in a tight embrace. Neither of you had been looking at the camera. Instead, you’d been looking deeply into one another’s eyes, a faint blush on your faces as you both smiled timidly at each other. What had been so easily over looked then, what was so obvious to him now, was the absolute adoration he’d felt for you in that moment. It was written all over the tender expression he wore as he looked down at you and you...you were absolutely beautiful.

“How’s this?” You’d asked the question in an almost whisper, your eyes never leaving his.

“Perfect,” Michelangelo had responded with a knowing grin before digitally immortalizing the moment forever.

A sigh of longing escaped Don’s lips as he brushed a finger gently over your image. He’d loved you even then, he now knew, but he wanted to make sure you knew it, too. Taking a deep breath to fortify his nerves, he pressed the call button and waited with a gut full of nervous anxiety as it began to ring.

“Hello?” A groggy voice answered on the fourth ring. “Donnie?”

“Good morning, love...” Donatello faltered slightly at hearing your sleepy tone. “I...I didn’t wake you did I?”

The soft sound of blankets shifting preceded your annoyed grunt. “It’s six o’clock in the morning...on a Saturday,” you emphasized.

Donnie cringed slightly into his shell. He’d been so eager to speak with you and clear the air that he hadn’t even considered your love of sleeping late on the weekends. Already things were not going as well as he’d hoped. “I’m...I’m sorry...”

You sighed, “Is everything alright? You never call this early.”

“Y-Yes,” he stuttered. “Everything is fine. I just...I just wanted to talk to you. And,” he took a deep breath, “and apologize for last night. I know it’s not an excuse but I got carried away with what I was doing and lost track of time.”

“Four hours,” you uttered, sounding more awake and emotional now. “I waited on you to finish for four hours and you never came out.”

“I know,” Donnie grimaced. The slight tremor that had replaced the tiredness in your voice shot a dagger straight through his heart. He hurt you, perhaps even worse that he’d originally believed. “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean...”

“You don’t have to explain,” your voice was thick with emotion as you spoke, cutting him off. All your insecurities rushing to the forefront of your mind as you continued, “I know I’m not April O’Neil.”

Donatello’s brain faltered at that. You couldn’t possibly think...? Could you? He shook his head vehemently despite the fact that you couldn’t see it. “No, no, no, no, no! It-it isn’t like that at all...”

“It’s okay,” you sniffled. “I understand if you’d rather spend time with her. I’m just...just...second place. I always have been. I know that.”

Donnie’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as he tried to wrap his head around what you were saying. You seriously believed he’d settled for you when things hadn’t panned out with April? That you were some sort of filler? His anxiety melted into anger. Not at you. Never at you. He was angry with himself. He’d made you feel this way. Even worse, he could hear the tell-tale hitch in your breathing that told him that he’d made you cry.

“Sweetheart,” his voice cracked and his own eyes took on a glassy sheen. “Please, don’t cry.” He swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat. “I don’t know what I’ve said or done to make you think like that, but it absolutely is not true. I wouldn’t trade the time I spend with you for anyone or anything in the world! You...you are my world! You’re amazing!”

“Right.” You sounded anything but convinced. “Just not amazing enough, I guess...not like her.”

“Listen to me, love,” Don exhaled a shaky breath. “I know that I got too wrapped up in the project we were working on to realize how it must have looked to you, but April is a friend. Just a friend. I admit, I may have been slightly infatuated with her at one point in time...”

You scoffed at his understatement, “slightly infatuated?”

“But,” the ninja continued, "in retrospect, all I really feel for her is close friendship and a sense of gratitude for all she’s done for my family...and myself,” he confessed. “If it weren’t for her and her relationship with Casey, I wouldn’t be so happy. I wouldn’t have you.”

“If things has worked out with her,” you argued, “you wouldn’t know the difference.”

Donnie stated with certainty, “It wouldn’t have ever worked out with her.”

His declaration gave you pause. “Why not?”

“Because,” Don smiled wistfully, his grip on his phone tightening, “she isn’t you. I’m right where I was meant to be. With you.”

Your breath hitched at his words and you felt like crying again. “Oh, Don...”

“I know I haven’t done a very good job lately of letting you know, but,” the turtle’s voice softened, “you’re the most incredible thing that’s ever happened to me. I can’t take back the last few weeks, but if,” he took a deep breath, “if you’ll let me, I’d like to make it up to you.”

“Donnie...” The sincerity in his voice helped to begin soothing your aching heart but your nerves felt ragged after your outburst of emotion.

The ninja pleaded. “Give me a chance to make this right between us.”

You took in a ragged breath. “How?”

“Come over tonight,” he requested. “Nine o’clock. No brothers. No April or Casey. No projects or experiments. Just the two of us.”

Your feelings may have still been hurt, but you had to admit that the proposition sounded wonderful. Still, you hesitated. “I don’t know...”

“Please,” Donatello spoke the words softly into the receiver. “I love you.” He poured every ounce of emotion he could muster into those three simple words, his heart pounding in his chest. “Only you. Always. Let me show you how much.”

You snuffled, tears once again flowing freely. “l-I love you, too.”

Donnie let out a breath that he hadn’t even known he’d been holding. Relief flooded through his veins at hearing the words repeated back in your trembling voice. “You’ll never know how wonderful it feels every time you say that.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea,” you sniffed.

Hopeful, he asked, “Will you please come over tonight? I need to see you. Nine o’clock?”

“Yeah,” you finally agreed. “Nine o’clock.”

Donnie bid you farewell but not before again telling you how much he loved you. As soon as you hung up, he was back up on his feet and moving. He had a lot to do and not much time to do it in. He grabbed his now cold cup of coffee and exited the lab, making a beeline for the kitchen. Just as he’d hoped, he found his brothers there, still half asleep and gathered around the table for breakfast.

“Guys,” he announced as he approached, “I need a huge favor...”

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles fanfic #teenage mutant ninja turtles fanfiction #tmnt fanfic #tmnt fanfiction #donnie x reader #donatello x reader #tmnt Donnie #tmnt donatello #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt mikey #tmnt april o'neil #tmnt april #tmnt casey jones

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rapeculturerealities · 4 years

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It is Donny Hathaway’s version of Leon Russell’s “A Song For You” that I am most familiar with, his husky voice painfully singing, “I've acted out my life on stages, with ten thousand people watching, but we're alone now and I'm singing this song to you.” He croons, “You taught me precious secrets of a true love.”

When you listen to the lyrics, it makes sense that Robyn Crawford — now best publicly known as Whitney Houston’s longtime best friend and one time lover — would name the book after this song that seems almost tailored for the life of Whitney Houston; a woman that acted her life out on stages for millions.

This week, Crawford revealing the intimate and romantic nature of her and Houston’s relationship shook a heternormative public where queerness is still a scandal, a thing to garner headlines and conversation. And much of the fascination is elementary: The Voice of all voices kissed a girl and liked it. Gasp.

However, what Crawford truly offered when you look beyond the lens of a tabloid, is a revaluation of why and how we lost the greatest voice American music has ever known.

During Robyn Crawford’s interview with professional gossip, Wendy Williams, she quoted Houston softly and tenderly as it concerned her awareness of a homophobic culture, “I don’t think we should be physical because where we’re going if people found out about it, they would just use it against us.”

After their romantic encounter and once Houston decided to enter the arena of pop music, she knew what she had to do, and perhaps most tragically what she could not do. Crawford in her own words says, “You don’t go around professing something that’s beautiful. You kinda keep it safe and that’s what we did. We kept it safe.” Referring to the intimate nature of their relationship, Crawford says, “We sacrificed that for where we were going and because of that, that rise was beautiful.”

With reverence and respect, it isn’t the rise of Whitney Houston that propelled Crawford to write this book and it isn’t her rise that answers why people have made an industry out of retelling Houston’s personal history even seven years after death — it is the fall. Because betraying one’s truth and remaining silent about it is swallowing poison and digesting it. And for many years, this is precisely what we witnessed, but for a long time we didn’t know exactly why.

And now, in the wake of Crawford's book, contextualziing Whitney Houston as a Black queer person opens up a long rumored culprit for her fall: homophobia.

#Houston #Crawford #homophobia #LGBTQIA

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misswildfire · 4 years

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Am I Smart Enough?

I wrote a sequel to Imagine if Mikey Ran Away. I plan on writing each of the brothers trying to help Mikey overcome his depression and low self esteem and self confidence after the battle with Krang. This is Leo’s part.

It had been a week since they had brought Mikey home, and during that week, he had been put on strict rest by Dr. Donnie, wanting to make sure that his youngest mate healed and didn’t make his injuries worse again like he had when he had fled their lair the first time. During this past week, Leo had been trying to find more ways to help the orange clad turtle regain some of his lost confidence. He knew it would be a long road, but he wanted to help his brother every step of the way.

His first thought was extra one-on-one training in the dojo. The idea had been quickly dismissed. Not only was he still healing from injuries, but the idea was to increase his self-confidence, not tear it down. With his current fragile state of mind, Leo was concerned that any training, as well meaning as it was meant, would be seen as Mikey not being good enough. That his older brother, his leader, didn’t see him as being able to keep up with them. Perhaps he could revisit the idea in the future, he did think it had merit, and he also loves sparring with the orange clad turtle (he was quick and agile and most times it ended up leading to some very good times),but his Little One would need to heal, both physically and mentally first.

He finally settled on simply spending time with Mikey. It had become an unspoken rule that Mikey was to never be left alone. One of them were always with him keeping him occupied during the day, and he shared someone’s bed, usually Leo or Raphs as Donnie was generally caught up in his work. So he started joining Mikey in activities he knew the youngest enjoyed. Videos games, baking, and just relaxing with him, whether it was watching T.V. or reading while Mikey worked on his art or read a comic book. It seemed to be working, at least to some extent.

At first, he was tense, shooting Leo side eyes. Wondering when the other shoe would drop, if I’ll change my mind and tell him that he was right, he should leave, Leo scowled at his thoughts. He knew it wasn’t going to be an easy road to turn Mikey’s mind set around, that there was no magic wand solution, but it hurt him to see his mate like this, to know that in some way, he had unintentionally caused wounds so deep that the only solution that Mikey saw was to leave, thinking they were better off without him. What he doesn’t realize is that without him, we’d fall apart. His youngest brother was truly the one that kept them all together. He always knew emotionally what his brothers needed, when to push and when to back off and give them space. He forced them to spend time together, when the three eldest turtles natural inclination was to be on their own. Mikey was definitely more social than any of them put together. And we’re better for it.

As the week wore on, his youngest lover became more and more relax, allowing Leo glimpses of how he was before. Today though, seemed to be different. Leo found himself with his eyes more on the orange clad turtle who was sitting on the floor in front of the table they used in the common area, rather than the book in his hands, sensing the younger became more and more frustrated and agitated as the minutes ticked by. He watched as Mikey threw down the pencil he was using the shade the picture in front of him in frustration, one hand raising to wipe the tears that had started to fall.

“I’m such an idiot, it’s such a simple picture, why can’t I get the shading right?” he muttered to himself, staring at the picture angrily. Frowning, Leo put the book that was all but forgotten in his hands down and went to kneel beside Mikey, taking the younger’s hands in his.

‘Hey now, you’re not an idiot,” the leader said softly. He waited until Mikey looked up at him before continuing.

“But I am, this should be so easy, but I can’t do it. I’m not smart like you or Donnie.” Mikey’s lips trembled as he tried to hold back more tears he could feel. He hated crying in front of Leo, hated his leader seeing him so weak and pathetic.

“Michelangelo,” Leo’s said, his heart breaking a little bit more hearing the self-deprecating words coming from his Little One’s mouth. “There are many types of intelligence. I excel in tactics and Donnie excels...well Donnie’s just really good at a lot of the sciencey stuff,” he grinned, thinking about all the stuff that the purple clad turtle did that Leo would never be able to understand in a million years. “Raph is really good at his body building stuff, he knows how to maximize his macros and workout regimes to push himself to his limit. Each of those are different types of intelligence. However, I can’t do what they do, so does that make me stupid?” He waited patiently for Mikey’s answer, only continuing when his brother shook his head no.

“Good, now you on the other hand. You’re really great at art. You understand how the light would hit something and know where to put the shadows, you understand colour theory, colours that compliment and contrast. The art that you do takes a lot of smarts. You’re also good with cooking. You know what flavours work well together and which ones don’t. That’s another kind of intelligence. There are many different types of intelligence Mikey. Just because the areas that you excel in differ, that doesn’t make you an idiot. You do plenty that myself, Raph or Don cannot do.” Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the picture in question. There didn’t seem to be any wrong with it, in Leo’s opinion, it looked amazing. Mikey just didn’t have any faith in his skills right now.

“Still, the stuff you guys do is important. Your tactics keep us alive in battle, Raph’s work out keeps him strong so he can protect us, and Donnie’s sciency stuff makes our lives more comfortable and helps us in so many ways,” Mikey protested, frowning. Leo smiled sadly, gather Mikey into his arms and kissing his head softly.

“I wish you saw yourself the way I do. I love your art, I love that you can express yourself in a way that I can’t. I love how you always know how to cheer everyone up, how you know what you need.” Trailing kisses down his brothers head, he stopped by his ear, whispering the next part. “I love your tail, and how responsive you are in my bed.” He placed a kiss on his cheek, before kissing his lips softly. “Let me show you how much I love you.” He hovered, lips barely touching Mikey’s waiting for his answer. He didn’t want to push his youngest, they hadn’t been intimate before the battle with Krang, but he desperately wanted to show his orange banded lover how much he loved him.

“Yes,” Mikey pleaded, having started to melt with every kiss his lover had given him. He wanted this, wanted to feel Leo around him, wanted to feel loved. Grinning, Leo picked him up in his arms and walked towards his bed, carrying his smaller brother in his arms. He didn’t care if he had to spend every day for the rest of his life proving to Mikey that he loved him. He would gladly do it.

#tmnt bayverse #tcest #leonardo #leo tmnt #michelangelo #mikey tmnt #tmnt leo #tmnt mikey #hurt mikey #leo #mikey #leo x mikey #teenage mutant ninja turtles #series: healing the runaway

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doodles-arts · 5 years

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Sarcastic!DonatelloX Reader

Type: one shot

Pairing: DonatelloX Reader

Description: your a real hardcore kinda of gal, a real Raphael type without the short fuse. Though the rough housing you liked was too much for the witty and solitaire Donnie. So he kept his distance as much as possible, but maybe one night changes all of it!

And thank you so much @incorrecttmntquotes for inspiring me with a, as you said, bitchy Donatello! I love you content! Please give this story a reblog if you like it!❤️

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If there was one thing that you and Donnie had in common, it was the sarcasm. The differences were a much LONGER list. You were an extreme badass and Donnie was a nerd. Where Donnie was technical, you were cynical. Where Donnie was soft spoken and well mannered, you were loud and straight to the point. You spent most of your time with Raphael and Mikey, rough housing like a delinquent. But it seemed to be your home, it was what you were best at.

So when the turtle family begin you spending more time with the nerd of the family, at first they were confused. But as time went on, they started to catch on to what was worming it’s way through.

Being rough was all you ever knew, with 4 of your own brothers at home, and being the youngest. You were the runt of the pack and learned from a young age to fight or be fought, and possibly bruised. All of Your brothers were big and burly boys, they got it from your dad. So keeping up with Raph and Mikey was a breeze, considering the boys were a lot more gentle with you unlike your own brothers.

As you can imagine, being hardcore can be very exhausting and leaves lots of scars and bruises. You however had no shame showing them off. Donnie didn’t really pay you any mind at first because of the way you carried yourself. It wasn’t really something he could keep up with.

One night, when all the other boys were asleep and Donnie was working through the night, you called. Unusual for you to call his phone this late, or his phone at all. You were close to the turtles but were more intimately engaged with Raphael and Michelangelo. Though noticing how late it was and in desperate need of a distraction he picked up your call.

It was weird enough you had called, but even weirder that you sounded in shambles. Sitting up in a concerned way Donatello asked what was wrong. You pleaded on the phone for him to come over, that you were in desperate need of medical attention. Claiming you couldn’t even make it down to the lair. Refusing to go to the hospital. That was what sold it for him, and possibly scared him.

When Donnie made it to your bedroom window and knocked on the glass he could see your shadowed figure limping to the window. “Oh my god.... what-what happened?” He asked sheepishly. Not knowing how to act towards this. Not use to this banged up version of you.

You were quite beat up with your bruised cheek, almost ripped shirt and cut up leg. The way you were holding your arm was his first concern. A broken arm could get serious- QUICK. You replied to his question with, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

He wanted to point out that he didn’t really care, he was just being polite, but your current expression made him keep his mouth shut. Keeping his eyes on the task and being as gentle as possible. Thankfully your arm wasn’t broken but simply dislocated. Popping your elbow back into place as you swore in pain and checking the cuts on your leg after picking out the shards of glass from your leg. As he stitched up a pretty deep cut, you groaned and sucked in your breathe. That’s when he really saw and studied your face, your cheeks were reddish with swollen eyes and wet from recent tears.

Whatever happened to you, shook you up pretty bad. And for once Donnie felt bad for you. You were always so rough that he never really cared for the bruises you sported before. He always kept his distance, thinking you’d simply try to overpower him the way you did with his brothers.

You felt bad for snapping when he questioned you and felt your heart tug as he gently spread a numbing salve on your wound before continuing to stitch your wound up. He took great care with each cut. You took a deep breathe and confessed.

“Two of my older brothers got in a huge fight. Fists and all, they were tense about some disagreement and it spiraled out of control. I was the only one in the room at the moment and tried to separate them myself. I’m not sure what I was thinking, I should have called for my other brother’s.” You took a breathe as Donnie listened, looking intently. You could tell he wasn’t judging you for once. He had a tendency of always giving quick, witty and sarcastic comments under his breathe to just about everything.

You cringed at your own weakness and looked away. “They didn’t mean to hurt me, they tried to push me out of the way, that’s how I got my elbow all banged up. But I guess at the time I didn’t feel i-it”, you choked on a sob. Wallowing in your own self pity and disappointment. Still shaken up from the situation.

Donnie placed a gentle hand on your own, “you don’t have to force yourself to explain it. I’m just glad your alright”. You smiled while the last of your tears dried up. You weren’t angry with your brothers or even upset, you were angry at how weak you felt from the incident.

Perhaps it was the fact that no matter what you did you were still vulnerable and could still be hurt. Maybe it was the fact that no matter what you did, how tough you acted, or worked out. You would still be the runt of your family. You were still just a tiny, insignificant sister who would always be below her brothers. Maybe that was hard for you to swallow, maybe it had always been hard for you accept. But at this very moment where Donnie brushed it off as if it were nothing and helped you anyway. The feeling was rejuvenating.

Having someone finally see the part of you that you tried to hide so hard was very satisfying. A weight that was lifted off your shoulders, even if Donatello didn’t exactly understand what your were so conflicted about. All he knew was that you weren’t exactly acting strong right now and he wasn’t phased by it.

“You feeling better?” He asked as he wrapped the deepest gash on your leg. You gave him a lop-sided grin and said, “i just love emotions, I have them all the time.” He chuckled at your mono-toned voice and sarcastic remark.

Since that night, you spent more time with Donatello. He appreciated your sarcastic remarks and had a few of his own to throw back. You didn’t have to act strong around him but you didn’t have to tip toe around him either. Just because he was shy and soft spoken didn’t mean Donnie couldn’t be a smart ass! He caught you off guard multiple times!

One time you were in the lab watching Donnie work as you two simply talked, chewing on bubble gum as you swung your legs from the table you sat on. As he worked on some wires the lights in the lair flickered and shuttered. You laughed it off with him and kept talking until Leo walked in. He demanded to know- “Donnie, what are you even doing?”

And your Donnie boy didn’t even falter in his response, “Leo, when you ask that you really just mean stop, you don’t really wanna know my thought process.”

Turning back around and continuing to work on whatever he was trying to do. You couldn’t even hold back your roar of laughter as Leo rolled his eyes and reminded Donnie to warn them when he was gonna mess with things like that. From that day forward, you noticed how quick wit Donnie could be. Even if he was a dork sometimes!

There was another day in which you walked into the lair, sweating from the surface sun, bringing in some things he ordered online with your address. while walking into Donnie’s lab, which was stuffier than the rest of the lair, exclaiming “god, it’s going to be so HOT today!” And Donnie hadn’t even skipped a beat when replying with, “yes, it’s good practice for hell.”

You snorted and laughed so loud that he looked at you and smiled. You just had to ask, “do you even believe in god?” You asked in between laughs. While gesturing to his lab he replied, “I believe in hell, and it feels like I’m in it”. He turned his chair fully around and watched as you laughed.

He found that cute...

Donnie had always had a smart mouth, but being around you made him think that it had encouraged him further. He couldn’t help it, things would just slip.

He was more sarcastic around his brothers as well, more than usual. And voiced them louder at times. A perfect example would be the current moment that the boys were trying to fix the TV and Donnie tried to do it by himself.

“We can help Don, ya know”, was Raph’s very gruff response to Donatello hogging the TV. As much as Donnie appreciated the help, he’d be better off doing it on his own. He just thought better that way.

“It’s alright, I always take care of it anyway”, he never meant it in an accusing way, but it was true and he was simply calling it out. Mikey was quick to try and hit back.

“Hey! You know what, we’re clever too, smarty pants.” Donnie snorted and already knew what to say, never turning his back as he spoke and continued to fix the TV. “What’s the difference between a gamete and a zygote?” The silence that filled the air made him smirk.

Raph tried to reassure his little brother, “don’t fall for it, Mikey, he’s just making up words”. Donnie almost felt the nerve of making another quick wit remark, but the sound of the TV turning on beat him to it. And filled him with all the satisfaction he needed.

However you found his remarks very funny and always knew how to give a come back. He started noticing how different you acted with him than with the others. And he found that very reassuring, special even.

He watched as you played with Mikey on mario karts and walked slower to the kitchen for his glass of water as you won and jumped up. Rough housing with him in until he let you topple him over. Laughing but punching him on the shoulder.

Thinking it over as you walked over to his lab and walked over to his desktop and gave him a quick side hug. Something you rarely did with Mikey or Raphael. Than you dragged a seat you brought from the living room to his lab and pulled out his spare laptop to play a game. Watching him from a distance, he could feel your eyes in him.

You sat quietly next to him playing a quiet computer game next to him. Watching him was relaxing, even when he pushed his adorable glasses up his snout or mumbled to himself. You were never this way with the others, though you shared a harsh joke or two now and than with Donnie you never really rough housed.

He liked that....

Days like that he treasured, though he did like the ones where you distracted him. With flirtatious words and offers like watching movies on his huge computer screen, or play games together, never the competitive ones. You were fine playing things like Gary’s mod or Minecraft. Pretty boring but it had its highlights. The days were you stayed up late texting nonsense and illogical conversation, that for some reason he tolerated and enjoyed.

He liked the ones where you’d force him to eat with you and take more breaks from his work, and to sleep and take even more breaks. You were sort of a slacker but Donnie was stubborn so it worked out. He never really had anyone think of him, in that kind of manner. A mother hen would just piss him off and you understood that. So sometimes you’d just left the food on his desk and brought him plenty of water every so often. He found it endearing, you were never this kind to the others. You were like a pufferfish, they never knew when you’d spike up, but never with Donnie.

His favorite memory so far he had of you was when you and asked him advice for pranking Mikey. He was the brains of the family after all! “I think I worked out a plan..” he mumbled while working it out in his head.

His remark sounded like Leo and you snickered while replying, “All right count me out.” He snapped his vision to you and laughed, enjoying your very well thought sarcasm. “You haven’t even heard it yet!” He said knowing he sounded like his elder brother and mimicking his voice when answering.

You stood up with a huge grin, enjoying his dorky laugh very much. “See how I’ve learned?” You laughed as you walked over towards him and resting your right elbow on his left shoulder. “Alright Doll, let’s hear it.”

Doll? He blushed and blabbered his plan, thinking and overthinking that one nickname you had given him.

Though just like the good days came, so did the bad ones. You were a tough cookie, no one could deny it. You loved training at the gym and taking kick boxing lessons. You always sported a bruise Donnie couldn’t help but look at, sometimes they looked serious, And they could be! Though it was the days you trained with Raphael that put Donatello at most unease. It’s not that he didn’t trust you could hold your own, but at what cost? Another bruise? A cut? A sprained ankle?

Though he never interrupted or interfered. He knew better than that. But one night you came to the lab, littered in cuts and a big shiner on your left eye. When you explained you had gotten in the middle of a street fight that had bets involved and got a good 70 bucks from it. Donnie had almost lost it. He couldn’t believe how careless you were being with your own well-being.

“You could have gotten really hurt! That black eye could have been a broken eye socket or a dislocated jaw! You could have been shanked!” You tried to brush it off, saying they were no match for you. The big grin still shining on your face.

But Donnie had had enough of ‘turning his right cheek’, he had to address this. “Do you hate yourself?”

You were dumbfounded at this question, “no?” You answered carefully. He had to hold back the edge in his voice, “You sure as hell don’t act like it. You could have killed yourself tonight. Your brothers would have been devastated and for what? 70 bucks? That’s no where near how much your worth” he grumbled while examining your black eye.

Something clicked... did he?

Did you?

“I’m sorry Donnie-“, this gave him pause, “-but why? Why do you help me so much? Why do YOU care?” He looked at you fondly and your heart drummed, something definitely not unwelcome, and it wasn’t unusual either nowadays. He snapped his gaze somewhere else when replying, “because my life is a mess right now and I compulsively take care of other people when I don’t know how to take care of myself”. You stared at him, knowing that was just a witty joke. “Really. That’s all?” You asked knowingly.

“Because your special to me- to me a-and my brothers of course..” he stammered and tried to cover up quickly.

Donnie didn’t want to overstep on something that may just be in his head. You grabbed one of his hands and looked at him smugly, “why? What’s so special about me?” He sighed, picking up on your facial expressions, he couldn’t believe what he was about to say.

“How long you got?” He answered with a raised eyebrow (bone?). You chuckled at his sarcastic remark that showcased his New York accent perfectly before realizing what he meant. You looked up adoringly, while he looked away bashfully. “Donnie.. do you actually like me?” He sighed while shrugging, “I don’t see why not?-why I shouldn’t” he answered while nonchalantly putting two medical butterfly clips on your busted chin.

You smiled with wide eyes, “wait. So was that a confession?” He answered quickly, “well it wasn’t some-some kind of political hearing, so I’ll assume it was.” You laughed at his joke, he was trying to keep calm, but his soft voice and tiny stutters while his hands trembled softly when putting away his medical supplies threw off his facade.

You smirked while hopping off his examining table and while he set down his medical box next to you. You slid under his left arm and hugged his plastron. “Your the only person I can really relax with. It would be an honor if you’d let me find peace with you there to help me. I’d love it if you told me off like that more often, I sorta need it” you finished with a sly smile. Donatello was frozen in his spot. So you hugged him tighter.

Donnie was speechless but slowly wrapped his arms around you. He could get use to this, you were just so different than him, but so warm. So small. Did you really want to be his? “You sure about that? You don’t always wanna hear my opinions” you grinned up at him chuckling to yourself as you replied, “if you voice them like that hell yeah!”

He chuckled along knowing you were up to something but decided to play along. Feeling strange but oddly at peace as you swayed him while you held each other. “And why’s that?” He asked, already regretting it as you smirked. “Because it’s HOT” he laughed but blushed and looked away.

“Your a handful!” He softly exclaimed while looking away. You chuckled and stood on your toes to press your lips to his cheek. Laughing again as he became even more bashful. If he could, he would of hide his face in his shell right at that moment. It was strange to see the gloomy and witty turtle so bashful, shy you were use to- but bashful? It was adorable!

As you pressed against his plastron you commented, “it takes a real man to love me even when I’m THIS fucked up. Black eye and busted chin, the whole package!” Donnie knew you were joking, but it still rubbed him the wrong way hearing you talk like that. Not able to hold back his mouth.

“They don’t bother me, I know what your really like, that’s what re-really all that matters to me.” Your heart drummed as you smiled and reached up to clasps his cheeks in both of your hands. What a sweetheart! He really was strangely-dorky adorable.

You leaned upward while he fumbled on what to do, you fluttered your pretty lashes closed and puckered your lips to meet his. Donnie’s height making it difficult for you to take the whole step, he would have a to meet you halfway. Mirroring everything you did and leaning down to you, your soft lips brushed his and he almost pulled back. Unsure of himself and his ability to even be near you in this kind of way.

From the outside of the Lair you could hear Raph yell, “MIKEY YOU OWE ME 5 BUCKS!!!” Donnie jumped backwards and when he came back to his senses flared at his older brother. You laughed, “it’s just a dumb bet they had, something about who would kiss who first.”

He looked down at you with an accusing look, “what if I just knocked him unconscious?” You gave him a look before responding, “that won’t change the past!” He snorted when saying, “but it would make the present so much nicer”.

You leaned closer to him one more time before nuzzling his plastron.

“Thank you for letting me be soft, nerd”

“Shush you big softie, I still can’t believe you got in to a street fight”

.....

“How many did you win?” You laughed while hugging him harder. You would like this very much.

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galoots · 5 years

Link

Caught in a life-threatening escapade, drugged, and facing a possible deranged foe, Scrooge does what anyone else would in this situation: Talk about how much he loves his nephew, duh.

The day had been a day like any other: Scrooge and Donald at the Money Bin, going about their daily business. Donald had been filing taxes for his uncle like he had promised prior. The task was fairly mundane, lulling Donald into a meditative trance. His focus had been so absorbed, in fact, that he failed to notice that the nigh constant hum of Scrooge’s security system had ceased. The eerie quiet was broken by the dull, heavy sound of a solid object striking a surface. Fearing the worst, Donald burst into his uncle’s office to find Scrooge face-down on his desk. For a brief, terrifying moment, Donald thought that his uncle had all of a sudden dropped dead. The panic that had gripped his heart in an icy clutch subsided when he saw the gentle rise and fall of Scrooge’s chest. Still breathing. Relieved but concerned, Donald moved closer to examine him. The last thing he could remember was the sight of a dart sticking out of his uncle’s neck when a brawny hand clamped over his beak. Briefly, he struggled wildly against that hand until he felt the sharp prick of a needle in his flesh. Everything after that was blank.

When Donald finally came to, he was bound to a pillar by thick, hemp rope around his wrists. He took stock of his situation. In dire straits, one should only worry about the immediate circumstances one could control. Nothing else mattered. Everything else were details. He tested the strength of his bindings. Tight. Competent knots tied by a skilled hand. Not much he could do there. He was unhurt, but his movement was constrained. His feet, however, had been left free. He turned his attention to his surroundings. The room he was in was unadorned, sparse with no windows, cement floors, and stucco walls. A warehouse perhaps?

A steel operating table, bolted to the floor, with a prone figure upon it. A second look revealed the figure being held in place by leather restraints. Closer examination revealed this figure to be his Uncle Scrooge, awake and similarly confused.

They’d clearly been abducted by one of the old man’s enemies. Not flashy enough for Rockerduck, too cruel for Glomgold. The criminal quality of the situation spoke to the Beagle boys, but they were far too bumbling to pull off such a flawless ambush. Magica? Seemed unlikely, witchery and deceit were her calling cards, but she’d been known to hire third-parties in the past.

The door to the room opened and in walked a man carrying a vintage-styled medical bag. He was tall and stocky, nondescript looking but threatening all the same. Placing his bag upon the ground, he clapped his hands together once and rubbed them together eagerly. “Good afternoon, gentleman.”

Oh good, Donald thought, a monologuer. He despised a villain who like to monologue.

Regardless of his disdain, the man continued his well-rehearsed introduction. “You do not know me yet, but I intimately know you. I am Dr. Hogel. You are in quite the predicament gentlemen, as I am sure you are aware, but give me your full cooperation and I assure you your time spent here will not be overly unpleasant.”

The harsh, clinical light shining down from the fixtures above cast a sinister shadow over the self-proclaimed Doctor Hogel. Opening his satchel, Dr. Hogel extracted a vial of clear liquid and a hypodermic needle. He filled the syringe, plunging the needle into the bottle, and removing it after he’d double-checked the dosage. The needle, held high, glinted sickeningly in the light. With a practiced flick, Dr. Hogel dispelled any air bubbles possibly within.

Scrooge, bound and gagged on the table, felt a cold trickle of fear spread through him. He could hear Donald, in the corner of the room, straining against his ropes, attempting to break free and save him.

“Do you know what Sodium Pentathol is?” Dr. Hogel asked, before reciting didactically. “Medically speaking, it’s a rapid-onset short-acting barbiturate, often used for anesthetic purposes. By those more inclined to fanciful worldviews, it’s often referred to as truth serum.” The doctor swabbed Scrooge’s arm, readying the needle for insertion. “Of course, there is no such thing as a drug that can force one to tell the truth. Such things belong solely to the realm of spy novels and other dime store pulp.” The doctor carefully emptied the contents of the syringe into Scrooge’s vein. “However, the drug has been found to make a subject of interrogation more… loquacious. Lowers his guard. Boosts his willingness to comply.” The doctor strolled over to his bag, pulling a thick towel from it to wrap the used needle in. He placed it to the side, turning back to Scrooge, leaving the black bag hanging open.

Craning his neck, Donald could see a host of other tools within. The bag’s handle faced towards him and while his hands were tied, his feet were not. He wasn’t exactly overly dexterous with his feet, but with some effort, he could manage to grab the handle and spill the bag’s contents. There had to be something useful within to enable his escape. A scalpel to cut his ropes, a communication device to call for help, anything at all. His course of action was clear. This Dr. Hogel was methodical, but not methodical enough.

The doctor examined Scrooge’s muscles untense, his eyelids droop, and his respiration slow to a relaxed rhythm. He began to loosen the restraints holding Scrooge and removed his gag. “I see no reason for you to suffer any discomfort during this little chat of ours. And I doubt you’ll be in a sporting mood to put up a fight after the dose I gave you.” Scrooge’s head lolled on his shoulders as he was released.

“Let’s begin the interrogation, shall we?” The doctor smiled a wolfish, predatory grin. “Mr. McDuck, I’d like you to tell me the location of your most precious possession.”

Scrooge smiled a hazy, lopsided grin before he answered in a voice thickly garbled by sedation. “He’s right over there!”

“He?” Dr. Hogel repeated incredulously.

“Him.” Scrooge pointed limply to Donald in the corner, who hastily pulled back his extended leg.

The doctor turned to look at him. “Your nephew has your number one dime?”

“No, silly.” Scrooge laughed blithely. “He is my most precious possession.” His face looked dazed and loopy.

With the deadly speed of a guillotine’s blade, the doctor’s smile dropped into a scowl. Donald affected a sheepish grin in return, hoping to pacify the man. He couldn’t risk his head being chopped off.

Dr. Hogel’s affected charm had been dropped as soon as he met resistance. He’d been courteous to his guest, up front, forthright, even attentive to his comfort, yet it seemed Scrooge McDuck would rather obfuscate and play games. “I’m not talking about your witless, slow-minded nephew, Mr. McDuck. I am referring to the first dime you ever made.”

Scrooge stared at the doctor with a glazed expression.

“The foundational artifact of your financial empire?”

Not a smidgeon of recognition in the old codger’s expression.

“The single most important physical possession you own. The coin that made you the man you are today!” The doctor’s voice dropped to a threatening growl, clearly losing his patience with this noncompliance.

“Dimes?” Scrooge slurred, “I got loads of them. Stacked to the tippy-top of my Money Bin. Donald polishes them for me. Isn’t that sweet? Working for his old unkie-dunkie when he could be out there doing whatever he’d please. Such a good boy.”

“U-uncle Scrooge,” Donald warned in a hushed tone; he needed time to enact his plan, but the old man had to stay on topic enough not to make the Doctor blow his lid.

“Shut up.” The doctor pinned him with a furious glare, spinning back to his uncle to continue his line of questioning. “I’m not looking for just any dime, McDuck.” He gripped Scrooge’s face in a punishing vise. “Focus. Listen to me carefully. I need to know the exact whereabouts of your so-called lucky dime.”

Donald started to sweat nervously as he slowly extended his foot towards the bag. Scrooge’s drugged mind sluggishly processed the request. “I used to keep it on a velvet pillow in a special pedestal in the Money Bin.”

“Good.” The doctor relaxed his grip slightly. “’Used to’ meaning you moved it at some point. Where to?”

“Well one day, back when Donnie was still a babe, I let him wade through the Money Bin. I loved a daily dip so much, I thought, heck, why not let the boy experience his first swim. A formative experience! I love to dive in it like a dolphin, burrow through it like a gopher, and toss it up and let it hit me on the head!” Scrooge drawled with a dreamy air, trying to scratch his beak against his shoulder to relieve an itch.

Scrooge cleared his throat with difficulty. “’Course you can’t be that rough with an infant. So, I outfitted him in little floaties just in case and let him wade in like it were a kiddie pool. I suppose his McDuck genes kicked in because phew!” Scrooge whistled a descending tune, “he took off like a shot from my arms. Paddled right over to the pedestal.” He mimed a look of shocked panic, effecting the expression he’d warn during the event.

“I was immediately terrified, instant panic, because what if he drowned? Or hurt himself? You can get some nasty papercuts from the greenbacks. And a baby’s head! Bit like a mushy melon, you know? One solid knock from a diamond to that soft spot babies have… er, what are they called?”

“A fontanelle.” The doctor supplied, hoping it’d lead the rambling old man to his point.

“Yes, that’s right. A frontapelle.” Scrooge nodded with a sage manner, as if he’d known the answer all along. “Well one solid knock to his frapachelle, and I thought he’d be a goner! So, I’m rushing towards him, trying to coax him back into my arms, when WHAM!” Scrooge slammed a hand against the table. “The little dickens knocked over the pedestal! He waddled right over to the pillow with the dime and—you’ll never guess what he did next.”

Scrooge waited for his captive host wager his best guess. He smiled with eager expectation like he was a comedian about to drop a killer punchline rather than a hostage in a dangerous situation. The doctor’s knuckles were clenched tight, growing frustrated with McDuck’s rambling. “What.”

“He popped it into his mouth,” Scrooge clicked his tongue, “and swallowed it.”

A vein on the doctor’s forehead pulsed, looking fit to burst.

“Then. What.”

“Let’s see…” Scrooge narrowed his eyes as he tried to recall the details under the fog of medication. “I picked him up. He was giggling like nothing had happened. I was relieved at first to see him hale and hearty, then I was furious when I realized what he’d done. Ach! I couldn’t be made at the wee bonny thing for very long though. I took one look at those sweet baby blue eyes of his and the anger melted away. He was an infant after all, he didn’t know what he was doing. I certainly learned my lesson alright! Spending the next few days sifting through an infant’s diapers was no fun t’all, I assure you. After that… well, I moved it!”

The doctor took a measured break, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Where to.”

Donald soaked with sweat, making it difficult to get a solid grasp on the doctor’s bag. His foot kept slipping off as he tried to grip the handle with his toes. He hoped his uncle’s drugged prattle would keep him occupied long enough for him to secure some handy little tool that’d allow him to break free.

“Where did I move it to? Let’s see.” Scrooge pondered the question for a moment. “I started keeping it on a chain around my neck. But—”

The doctor pulled the collar of Scrooge’s coat open with a sharp, hasty motion but found nothing underneath.

“Rude.” Scrooge huffed.

“Rude? I’m being rude?” The doctor was yelling now, inches away from Scrooge’s face. “Listen to me, you pathetic, pedantic old man. The witch did not contract me to listen to your blithering inane patter! I have a job to carry out, and I did not ensure a professional reputation of brutal efficiency by babysitting escapees from the old home. I do not care about how much you love your nephew, or the ‘darling’ little anecdotes you have about his childhood, or whatever other nonsense you’d care to spout. All I want to know is where do you keep your di—"

The doctor, wearing a look of utter confusion, reached up to his neck to pull the dart that had just struck him. He drunkenly swung around towards his other hostage who’d he had forgotten about in his agitation. The old man’s nephew was grinning back at him, the contents of his bag spilled out on the floor next to him, and the ballistic dart gun he’d used to initially abduct them underneath his foot. It had taken a good deal of fumbling for Donald to drag the device towards him and accurately aim it at the doctor. But once he did, all it took was a press of a button to fire a shot which Donald had done with his big toe. Dr. Hogel stumbled, then fell to the floor, unconscious, his head hitting the concrete with a nasty thwack upon impact. He cheered himself for saving the day, especially under duress and with less than ideal limitations.

Scrooge pulled out from his loosened restraints and slide off the operating table. “Pity,” he mumbled, “I was just getting to the good part.” Stumbling over the doctor’s prostrate body, wobbling to and fro, Scrooge made his unsteady way over to Donald.

Donald leaned against his bonds in anticipation of being freed. “Great job distracting him, Uncle Scrooge! You played the part of a doting old man perfectly. It was genius! Now untie me and let’s get out of here!”

Scrooge plopped down next to him. Donald waited for him to pull apart the ropes that bound him, but he felt no tug to set him free.

“Uncle Scrooge?”

Scrooge let loose a yawn. “I’m rather tired, sweetie… I think I’ll take a little nap first.”

“No, no, no!” Donald struggled against the ropes. “Uncle Scrooge, don’t go gentle into that good night, alright?”

Scrooge got down on all fours and crawled closer to Donald. He placed his head in Donald’s lap and, with a contented smack of his beak, nestled into a cozy position and promptly fell asleep. The drugs in the old boy’s system must have finally caught up with him for he was happily snoozing away in his nephew’s lap. The familiar feeling of embarrassment settled in Donald’s stomach as he belatedly realized that his uncle’s spiel hadn’t been the clever machination of a man accustomed to escaping harrowing situations, but the drugged prattle of a nostalgic old man. Which meant, everything he had said had been genuine, not part of some ruse. The anecdote, the compliments, his uncle’s adoration, even his misidentification of his nephew as his most precious object—all true. Donald blushed, feeling self-aware despite the fact he was the only one still conscious in this room.

He jostled Scrooge with his knees, trying to wake him up from his slumber, but the duck barely stirred. Before he’d wanted to escape from the dangerous and seemingly criminally insane man who’d trapped them. Now? Now he just wanted to run away before he had to face the utter mortification of being found like this. It wouldn’t take long for someone to realize they were missing or to locate their current position. He couldn’t bear having to tell the newspapers the tale of how they escaped, broadcasting Scrooge’s nostalgia to the entire city. He wiggled futilely against his bonds before slumping forward in defeat. In his mind, he could see the front page of the Duckburg Daily—a large photo, front and center, of Donald ducking his head, trying to hide his face while surrounded by rescue workers. All while a softly snoozing Scrooge cuddled up with him in his lap.

He’d never live it down. Surely, he’d have to skip town.

Christ, couldn’t this doctor have just killed him instead and saved him the embarrassment?

#teamuncleweek2019 #donald duck #scrooge mcduck #team uncle #teamuncleweek #disney ducks #duck comics #duckverse #ducktales

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littlebitoffanfic · 5 years

Text

Skinny Dipping

Fandom: TMNT Character: Leo, others mentioned Relationship: Leo/reader Request: I really enjoy reading your stories. There so interesting and very cute, I love them! I was wondering if you could maybe do a Leonardo x reader story, from the 2003 version of the turtles or the new movies/Micheal Bay version of them and the two are already in a loving relationship, where the reader loves to swim but feels sad they can't swim as fast as the turtles can so Leo offers to teach them. And while they swim, both of them notices things they really like about the other being wet and in the water, like how the skin shines, the hair flows or how the bodies move, maybe Leo notices how the breasts move, which leads to some kissing then maybe some love making in the water. Sorry if I'm doing this wrong, I wasn't sure where to put the request. Thanks for sharing you're wonderful stories with us all and I look forward to whatever else you do next. You sat by the stream, huffing to yourself as you watched as Donnie and Raph raced once again. This was the winning race, the one to decide who would win. The guys had come out here with April and you to a little, private get away which allowed everyone a little bit of time to relax. you had failed straight away, barley able to get half way by the time Mikey had reached the finish. Through a few races, Donnie ended up against Raph. you loved to swim, but hated how slow you were compared to them. “You’re not normally this sore a loser.” Leos voice drew your attention away from the race as he sat at your side. “No, but I just wish I could do it as well as you guys could.” You shook your head, looking back to the race and seeing Raph emerge victorious as Mikey serenaded him. You couldn’t help but smile and clap. “I could teach you.” Leo suddenly said, drawing your attention back to him. “Yeah?” You smiled. After a few months together and nearly 3 years of friendship, you and Leo were very close. There was a joke that you were more like a married couple than only a few months into a relationship. “but it has to be a private lesson.” You turn to him, smiling as you thought of him in the water iwt you, by your side. Your request was quickly granted when Mikey said he was going to get pizza for the winner and Donnie and Raph followed him through the small stretch of trees to the house you were staying in. You jumped at the chance. Getting to your feet, you walked over to the stream, Leo following. Walking in till you were up to your waist, you crouched and began to swim out to the deeper area. Leo followed, but was still able to stand a little when you could reach the floor of the stream. you tread water as he said about how they had learned. You had an advantage because you didn’t have a shell or the same mass. you quickly grew tired of what he was saying. He spoke in jargon like Donnie did some time. So you lay back in the water, looking up at the sky. It was getting dark, but the sun still offered a little light. you didn’t notice Leo stop speaking as he watched you. Your body was only a little under the water, your head, arms and breast being the main things that were prominently out of the water. While the two of you had had sex plenty of times, he always admired your body. Even today when you had come in your swim suit. He wanted nothing more than to pull you to one side and kiss you. your hair fanned out around you in the water, reminding him of some kind of water maiden. Beautifully emerged in the sparking water at sun set. perhaps this lessons wasn’t such a good idea, seeing how the house and his family were less than a 3 or 4 minute walk away. But there was something about how beautiful you looked that made him want you even more. You looked over at Leo, smiling at him before moving in the water so you could swim to him. Once in front of him, you noticed how his eyes darted down to your breast which were very buoyant in your swimming costume. Smirking, you knew what he wanted and what he was thinking, but was too much of a gentleman to ask. “You know, I think my swim suit is too tight around my chest.” You smirk as his eyes snap to yours. Pulling your straps over your arms, you pulled down the costume, allowing your breasts to float a little, your nipples now hard from the cold water. Leo sucked in a breath, unable to believe you could be so bold. His eyes darted in the direction of the house but when he saw no one there, his hands reached for you. One pulled you closer to him in the water while the other ran over your breasts. To you, they looked better in the water as Leos fingers brushed over your nipple. You held back a groan as you reached out to grab on to his shoulder. Leo pressed you against his body so you didn’t have to worry so much about keeping yourself afloat but that didn’t make your situation any better. You wrapped your legs around his hips and instantly felt his hardened member press against the thin layer of your swim suite. your body pressed against his hard chest, and you couldn’t help but moan slightly. Both his hands moved to support your back as the small waves made the two of your move a little out of sync, grinding against each other. Your chest was pressed against his and you had never noticed how harsh a surface it was until your sensitive breasts were pressed against it and rubbing against him. your hands ran up his arms and shoulder, feeling how wet and smooth his skin was. The new sensations drove you insane as you looked up to Leo. He seemed to be enjoying this as much as you were. he liked the way you moved against him in the water, how your breast looked pressed against his chest and how the waves made you grind against him in a new way. Lowering himself down so he was at the same level as you in the water, his lips hovered above yours for a brief moment before kissing you. The coldness of both your lips was only counter by warm mouths. You locked your arms around him, pulling yourself up slightly as you kissed him passionately. His hands ran up your sides, brushing over your swim suit. You wanted to take this so much further, but you had to show him you wanted it as well. Reaching below the water, you pulled your swim suit down your body. Pulling your knees up so you could get it off your legs, Leos hands instantly found your sides once again, growling into the kiss at the feeling of your soft skin in the cold water. You shivered at the touch as you held your swim suit in one hand, the other wrapping back around his neck. you opened your legs to wrap back around him and he could feel your hot entrance now pressed against his cock. Leo shivered, his hips buckling against yours as your grinded against him. Before long, nether of you could bare any more. The two of you moved to the shore. You ended up just a little out the water. The waves were still able to reach up to your shoulders before retreating back down. You gasped as you spread your legs for Leo just as a wave came up and hit your most intimate area. Leo was between our legs in a heartbeat, lining himself up with your entrance. Unable to hold back any more, he pushed inside of you with ease. Both of your let out a soft groan of pleasure as the waves came back to the shore. From Leos reaction, he felt them too. He thrusted in and out of you as his lips kissed down your neck and back up, seeming to enjoy your wet skin. Your swim suit was still in your hands and you grasped it, the pleasure nearly unbearable. It wasn’t like leo to be so impulsive. Especially when it came to the two of you. Sex was sort of a planned thing. He had never really been into just grabbing you and taking you. No, it was planned, request. He sought full permission before even attempting anything. He didn’t fully understand that you didn’t need to give him verbal permission all the time, until now. He could feel how your body moved against his, how you wanted him. He would have stopped in a heartbeat if you asked, but you didn’t. “L-Leo.” You gasp, dropping your costume to the side as you wrap your arms around him. When he raised his head to look at you, you pressed your lips against his own, kissing him. you were so close, you knew it. The feeling of him moving inside you, the constant waves that moved over the two of you and the feeling of his wet skin against yours was just too much. You broke the kiss to moan as leo pulls back, raising himself on one of his arms by your head. The other snakes down your body and between your legs to your clit. He rubbed circles there was two fingers, making you moan helplessly below him. The extra friction was all you needed. Your orgasm claimed your body, making you shake slightly as you pulsed around him. Leo growled at the feeling as he came inside you. Panting, Leo was only just able to keep himself from collapsing on you. He leaned forward and started to kiss down your collar then up. “Would you like to stay here or go back into the water?” Leo asks, kissing your neck. “I don’t know if I could tread water.” You gasp a little at the waves again. “I’ll keep you safe.” Leo chuckles, pulling out of you to get to his feet. He offered you a hand and you accepted. He helped you to your feet and the two of you returned to the water. It felt nice, since you skin was now hot after the love-making. As promised, he kept his arms around you as he lazily guided you both through the water. Until you heard footsteps. You ducked so the water was right up to your chin. “Hey, foods nearly here!” Mikey shouted through the trees as he came into the opening by the stream. “okay, we’ll be there in a minute.” Leo called as Mikey nodded and left. “Maybe we should skinny dip more often.” You giggle as Leo leads you back to the shore. “Maybe even tonight?” Leo looked at you with a smirk on his lips. Looking like it was a plan.

#leonardo #leo #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #leo x reader #leonardo x reader #smut

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kinetic-elaboration · 2 years

Text

March 1: Orphan Black 4x04

Very tough day today. Didn’t do anything after work but rest/sleep but I did watch OB in the evening.

It was a really good episode but I feel like I have 0 thoughts... it’s all kind of a wash.

I will say that I feel like the season is coming together a little more, at least thematically. Maybe.. plot wise? I had this idea that perhaps the ultimate Neolution goal is enhanced humans like Kira. Not that they are consciously working toward Kira, because they’re not aware of her enhancements, but more like... the audience sees what an enhanced human might look like/that it’s possible in this universe. Ironically, Kira was a mistake, but she’s also a proof of concept way beyond anything else they’ve probably yet been able to accomplish.

The gene editing capability of the bots and the Neolution fertility clinic/Brightborn program are obviously related in that actual real life gene editing is done on embryos. So it makes sense they’d practice it at different stages. I’m not entirely sure how this relates to clones other than it’s all in service of the enhanced human goal: just messing around with different stuff to see what sticks. I’d say the fertility clinic is itself about restarting the cloning program but Evie and Leekie were posited as equals in 4x01, running two different, separate, parallel, and equally important projects. He has the clones, she has the gene editing project.

Clones actually seem like maybe a bad way to get an enhanced human (too roundabout), and it’s also pretty clear that the cloning experiment has been going poorly so far. It would be pretty funny if all the main characters and the main plot of the show were just a twisted, failed aberration of an experiment.

Other quick thoughts:

Sarah is so much fiercer this season. Last season she really was on her back foot. Giving her such a personal, intimate, immediate danger to confront was a good narrative choice. Also, I really like Dizzy. They make a good pair.

Still not interested in or frightened by Ferdinand. Is Leekie the ONLY good villain on this show? He might be.

I can’t decide if MK chickened out in killing Ferdinand or if she always intended only to psychologically torture him and steal his money. To be honest, that light mocking was barely even a punishment for this guy and not even stealing his millions seems equal to the loss of her friend and all of the other clones and their family. Which makes me think she chickened out. Also, who keeps 3+million dollars in ONE bank account? And why couldn’t she hack it without him? Did she just purposefully want him to see her do it, to know it was HER?

It does bother me a little that it’s hard to follow the ‘Helsinki’ thing from just the show but I’m kind of getting a better idea of what that meant and just how brutal it was.

The Hendrixes are at it again. I liked that Felix and Donnie got some bonding time, and I appreciated Felix’s lesson in not stereotyping gay people. (”The point is you can’t tell [which of your friends is gay], so don’t act gay.”) Even though I have a hard time relating to fertility-struggle story line, I did feel bad for Alison when she was describing wanting her own children. I’m a sucker for that ‘starts as a trick or a ploy but ends up real’ trope.

But obviously the MOST important part of this story line was Al Italia stewardess Alison... They are so wholesome honestly.

Uh, what else was in this episode? Nothing particularly interesting with Rachel (sorry Rachel)--and a cute Helena and Donnie scene (”Much cuddlings.”) and Helena’s goodbye to the Hendrixes. Why does it look like fall? It should be, what, like February? March? Oh, and Cosima and Scott doing some science. I tried not to look too hard at that since I was eating at the time. Scott has major balls to say Leekie “never once” gave him a raise considering he worked for him for what, like 4 months tops? Bold.

Next ep is the halfway point of the season. I’m still enjoying it a lot and I feel like it’s getting to the point where there should be some major revelations and coming together of story lines. I’m not 100% sure I trust this will all come out to something coherent--I mean the ingredients are there, but this show doesn’t have the greatest track record of tying stuff together without loose ends--but it at least FEELS thematically coherent. It feels like everything’s sort of... going in the same direction.

#the year 2022 #2022: fandom thoughts #2022: orphan black

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lwilson · 3 years

Text

our last ride in the bread truck

I remember the rain. It was coming down in silver sheets. It was September 16th, my sister’s birthday and the day I was scheduled to report to basic training. I emerged from my bedroom in the basement with a heavy heart. The news of Ramone’s suicide hung heavy on me. It had been a few weeks since Alan and I had learned of Ramone’s death and I hadn’t slept very well since.

I walked across the kitchen to the dining room. I sat my travel bags on the floor next to the table and walk across the room to my father who was standing in the front of our open front door listening to the rain. My parent’s house was quiet as time on a monument except for the faint sounds of my mother’s sniffles coming from my parent’s bedroom. It was early, I don’t remember exactly how early, but it was still dark and cool outside.

“ It’s coming down out there this morning,” my father said as I walked up beside him.

“It’s pouring,” I said.

“You got everything,” he asked without looking at me.

“I think so,” I said turning to look at his profile.

“Better check before you go.”

“ I will.”

My father had been in the Air Force and had fought during the Korean war. An experience he rarely spoke of. He was old school, he believed action spoke much louder than words. My father was a quiet man. Stoic, yet approachable. He was not the type of man who went around tossing out I love you’s like they were confetti, but if you were family you knew that you were loved. He was strong, smart, and the most patient person I have ever known. My father was a straight shooter, a guy who as far as I knew always walked on the right side of the line in life. When I was a kid, I wanted to be my father. In many ways I still do.

The economy in the 1980s, the Ronald Reagan era economy was garbage, and finding a decent paying job was hard to come by, but trouble, not so much. You didn’t have to look too long or too hard to find trouble. Because trouble was always lurking in the shadows, hanging out at all the popular hot spots, if you called, trouble would be more than happy to show himself in the form of drugs, alcohol, frustration, and anger before exploding from the shadows. Fuel by the newest and most devastating drug of them all, crack cocaine.

A destroyer of lives, past, present, and in some horrible cases future. The Reagan administration’s reaction, a real quippy new slogan “Just say no,” and legislation that unduly targeted minorities and destroyed families for generations. The effects of crack on the scene were immediate and devastating. As I look back now, I can see that this is where Alan and my views on social and perhaps racial issues were beginning to diverge for the first time. This change also coincides with us moving into young adulthood. Alan and I disagreed over the drug sentences being handed down to minorities as compared to their white counterparts.

Alan thought that people selling drugs should have the book thrown at them. I agreed if it were the same size book. Black and Hispanic offenders were getting harsher sentences than white offenders for almost the exact same crime. Friends of ours that we had grown up with were going down. We were seeing it first hand. Fat Rich Martinez, got caught selling dope and caught a hand full of years, his brother Jumbo went the same way, Flip and Solman went the same way and got sent up, Donny, a white kid in their crew got probation. Alan couldn’t see the glaring difference, I did.

“Donny wasn’t selling crack,” Alan said.

“Cocaine is cocaine, rather it’s rock or powder. They should have all gotten the same amount of time.”

“The sentences had nothing to do with race. Maybe Donny’s parents got him a better lawyer?”

“He had a state-appointed lawyer like the rest of them,” I said.

“Still, I just don’t believe that it had nothing to do with race.”

It’s funny how two people can look at the same thing, yet see something totally different. The differences in the Americas we both lived in was beginning to emerge.

*****

My father understood why I had to leave. He may not have liked it, but he understood it. My mother on the other hand, was hurt and angry and didn’t care to understand. My mother was in her and my dad’s bedroom. She wouldn’t come out. I had joined the Army against her wishes, and I was leaving again, and she wasn’t too happy about it. I had to go. For my own sanity, I had to go. I had just return unceremoniously from California where I had gone to play football, but health issues, undiagnosed asthma, put my dreams of playing in the NFL on the rack. So, back I came to Detroit, angry, dejected, and bitter at what I saw as limited options.

Alan offered to get me a job at C.Q. the laundry company he was working, but I turned him down flat. It was a dead-end job and I wanted more.

“It’s good enough for me, but not good enough for you,” Alan said bitterly after I turned him down.

“ It’s not that,” I said regretting not finding a more subtle way of turning him down.

“So what, the rackets. You saw what happened to Jumbo and those guys.”

�� I’m going into the Army,” I said. Thinking back to the shocked expression on his face still makes me smile. My girlfriend, the woman that would later become my wife had just moved to Florida, her mother’s job had been transferred to Jacksonville so nothing was keeping me in Michigan. I wanted to marry her and the Army was my way of providing us with a tangible future.

“She’ll be alright,” my dad said in his calm soothing way referring to sniffles coming from their closed bedroom door. The guilt I felt was overwhelming.

“ I have to go, ” I said with my voice quivering with emotion. He turned to me and smiled. It was a small intimate smile; one he had never given me before or since.

“ I know you do,” He put his hand on my shoulder as he spoke, “It will be good for you. Get you out of here. You go see the world.” He let his hand drop from my shoulder and stuffed it into his front pocket and turned back toward the door and looked out at the pouring rain.

“Thanks, dad.” I wasn’t sure what I was doing. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to go into the Army, but what I was sure of was this, I had to go. If I wanted any chance at a decent future I had to go. As I sit here now writing this, I remember standing with him in that doorway listening to the rain slapping down on the sidewalk in front of our house on Promenade Street. I remember staring at his unflinching profile wondering what he was thinking about. I wondered if I was what he had imagined his only son would be like. Was he proud of the man that I was becoming? I wondered if he ever saw parts of himself in me. I don’t know. I’ll never know.

My father died a few years ago while I was in Florida. We would speak on the phone, not as often as I would have liked. My dad was never much for talking on the phone. When I called my mother would always answer the phone. She would ask how I was, then ask after Carmen my wife, then our son Jamie, she would ask if I would like to speak to my father as if I would ever say no.

“Hey,” he would say. My dad had a rich baritone voice, “How’s everything?”

“Good dad, we’re all doing fine.” I would say happy to be talking to him.

“How’s the wife and baby?”

“They’re fine, Jay’s getting big.”

“ I bet he is. Is he taller than you yet?”

“Not yet, almost though, did you watched the Lion’s Sunday dad?” I’d ask referring to the Detroit Lions.

“Them old Lion’s,” he would say with a chuckle, “they have to win eventually, right? we would both laugh.

“ Alright then,” he would say still chuckling. “ I got nothing else to say, here’s your mother.”

“Alright, dad,”

“Okay then,” and he would give my mother the phone.

My dad and I stood in the doorway watching as the headlights turned into our driveway splashing light across the front of the house and us. Dad looked at me.

“You got any money,” he asked seriously. I nodded.

“I do. I have a couple of hundred dollars.”

He reached in his pocket and tried to hand me some more money.

“No, Dad. I’m good. This should be enough,” he shook his head.

“You never know,” he said, “Just take it. Put my mind at ease.” He pulled three hundred dollars out of his pocket.

“Seriously, dad, I’m good.”

“ I know that you are, but for me. Put your mother’s mind at ease.” He handed it to me. I reluctantly took the money and stuffed it into my front pocket.

“Thanks,” I looked toward the closed bedroom door. My dad put a hand on my shoulder.

“ Don’t worry about her. She’ll be alright. Go on,” he motioned toward the front door, “let your friend in.” I walked over to the front door in time to see Alan getting out of the car, hunched over running across our side lawn to the porch. I could hear the slushy sounds of his feet on the wet grass. He ran up on the porch soaking wet and breathing heavily. He looked like a soaked poodle wearing a blond helmet.

“It’s raining,” I joked.

“Funny,” he said stomping his feet and shaking off the rain. I opened the screen door and Alan entered our house. The house was dimly lit with only the light from the kitchen and a small lamp on a side table.

“Want some coffee,” I asked as I moved toward my parent’s bedroom which was just down the hall. Alan had already grabbed a cup and was pouring coffee when I asked.

“Thanks,” he lifted the cup in my direction. He knew where we kept things. He had been coming here since he was a kid. He was virtually part of the family.

“Where’s mom,” he asked. I nodded toward the bedroom and shrugged.

“Oh,” he said. There was no need for me to say more.

“I’ll be back,” I said and walked down the hall toward my parent’s bedroom.

“Thelma,” my dad called to my mother as I walked toward the bedroom door, “ Come on out now, the boys getting ready to go.” I walked over to the bedroom door and stood next to my father.

“Mom, I’m getting ready to go now. Alan’s here.”

“So, you are going to leave after all?” The muffled disbelieving voice came through the door.

“ I have to. I’ll get in trouble if I don’t.” I stood there waiting for the door to open, but it didn’t.

“Fine then, go.” I backed away from the door heartbroken. My dad followed me back into the dining room.

“Hey Dad,” Alan said to my dad and quickly shook his hand, “Can you believe this one,” he motioned toward me, “He’s in the Army now, god protect us all.” We all laughed as I gathered my bags and made my way toward the door. I shook my father’s hand. I wanted to hug him, but I’m not sure how he would have felt about something like that, so I shook his hand, and off Alan and I went. As we backed out of the driveway and turned onto the street, I could see my mother in the door watching us. I waved and she waved back as we pulled away.

*****

Alan and I rode in silence for a long while each lost in his own thoughts. We had been here before. Our friendship put to the test by time and distance. The first came when my family left the old neighborhood first. In the back of my mind and I believe in the back of Alan’s to we thought this might be it, but it wasn’t. Here we are again almost ten years later facing the same threat and once again we came through it. Neither of us could have imagined the threat Donald Trump would pose to our friendship almost thirty years later.

“You really going to go through with this,” Alan asked referring to my decision to join the Army.

“ I have to now. I’m already signed up.”

“Shit, instead of going to Metro (the airport) we could cross the bridge and before you know it you’re in Windsor.”

“I ain’t running to Canada,”

“Why not?”

“Because I already signed up. They’ll come looking for me.”

“Whose gonna come looking for you?”

“Uncle Sam,”

“Uncle…and who in the hell is that?”

“I don’t know, the F.B.I. or some shit,”

“Nobody’s gonna come looking for you if you don’t show up.” Alan and I rode in silence for a while then he said in a low raspy whisper.

“ I can’t believe he did that.”

“What,” I asked.

“ Ramone, I can’t believe he killed himself.”

“ Yeah,” I said looking out the window, “ It’s pretty horrible.”

“ I thought he was stronger than that,” Alan said glancing at me.

“Sometimes the weight is just too much to bear”

“We all got our problems, you be a man and deal with them, that’s how we were raised, right?” I nodded.

“You don’t take the easy way out.”

“How do you know it was the easy way out?”

Alan looked at me confused.

“You think walking into ongoing traffic was easy, I sure in the hell don’t.”

“Must have been easier than facing his problems like a man.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The atmosphere was radioactive in the car. We rode in silence for the rest of the way to the airport with our friendship teetering on the narrow head of a pin. I remember thinking,

“Ramone is gone, and I don’t know who this asshole sitting next to me is. Maybe it’s time to cut ties with everything and everyone from my past and start fresh. If I were going to do it, now was the time. Yeah, now is the time.” I sat back and looked out the window and watched as Chene street slid by us. Every now and again I would catch Alan stealing a glimpse of me from the corner of his eye.

“FMB bakery,” he said grinning as we passed an old abandoned building, “We had some good times up on that roof.” I smiled and let my head swivel in the direction of the building as we passed. Alan was right, as kids, we had some great times there. When we were kids our friend Billy and his mother Lexie, and his sister Lucy lived over the bakery and Billy’s mother Lexie worked as a delivery driver for the bakery. Billy’s family was from Kentucky, and I remember one of the first things he told me when I met him was that his mother Lexie was a former Playboy model, she wasn’t, but at the time Alan and I believed him. She looked like she could have been one honestly.

Billy was in our 5th-grade class even though he was a year older than the rest of us, he had Mrs. Drum the year before us and failed and he had to repeat her class. Ramone and Billy never became friends, but Alan and I became good friends with him and would often spend the weekends over his house partly because he was a fun guy, and partly to ogle his super attractive mom who liked to walk around in Daisy Duke shorts or bikini bottoms and a tee-shirt on her days off.

We never had so much freedom, as we did when we spent our weekend nights over Billy’s house. His mother would buy us a case of Pepsi and pizza and basically leave us to our own devices. Our nights were spent staying up super late listening to music, our favorites in case you were wondering were “Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting, by Carl Douglas, Shadow Dancing by Andy Gibbs, and Saturday Night Fever by his brothers, The Bee Gee’s,” and talking about girls in our classroom, Franchesca, in particular. We all had it bad for Franny. A golden brown girl with dark limpid eyes, thick black hair, a small upturned nose, and pouty blushed lips. The product of a white father and a black mother Franchesca looked about as exotic as her name sounded to us all at the time. When we weren’t pining over Franchesca we were leafing through the mountains of playboy magazines that Billy’s mom’s married boyfriend Richard had gotten for him. We couldn’t believe the stack of dirty mags he had and his mother didn’t seem to mind, and we certainly didn’t.

My parents nor Alan’s parents never knew about the dirty magazines, Daisy Duke shorts, or bikini bottoms or we would have never been allowed to stay over. On those clear summer nights, when Billy’s mother went on her deliveries, his sister Lucy and her boyfriend Otis crept off to her bedroom for the night Billy would always want to go and play one of our favorite games, “Stump the Drunk”.

“Come on guys,” he would say in his easy Kentucky drawl. Alan and I would look at each other and off we would go scurrying out of Billy’s bedroom window onto his rooftop. We would duck low and move quickly past Lucy’s bedroom window and over to the edge of the building. There was a high brick wall, a rampart of sorts, it was high enough to hide us from sight, but low enough for us to see clearly out across the main road. We would then hustle about on the rooftop gathering small rocks and pebbles to throw.

Then like clockwork starting at around 1:45 in the morning men and women would begin to wobble arm in arm out of “Max’s Lounge”, a glorified hole in the wall on the corner of Chene and Fredrick street. Giggling women in form-fitting shimmering dresses clinging to the arms of fidgeting men of all shapes, sizes, and colors, all dressed in variations of the polyester white suit that John Travolta wore in “Saturday Night Fever.” The hunched couples would stagger across the wide blacktop to their waiting LTD’s, Lincoln continentals, and Cadillacs. As they crossed we would pop up like Jack in the boxes and start chucking our rocks at them, not to hit them, we never wanted to do that. We just wanted to freak them out, and we did do that.

They would freeze like deer paralyzed in the road by approaching high beams. Brains locked, watching as the lights grew wider and brighter until something becomes nothing but a twitching stain dying on a lonely road. For our staggering friends, it was nothing quite that dramatic. Our deer would stand swaying in the middle of the road looking around bewildered and afraid as invisible objects clunked down near them. Some would stand for a moment before the brain snapped back to life and off they would dart back across the street to the safety of the lounge, others defiantly waved their fist into the night sky cursing and daring us to show ourselves, still, others stood as still as rocks in the road half-drunk looking glassy-eyed and uncomprehending.

“ Look at them,” we would all laugh pointing and throwing rocks until we ran out of them. When the last of the rocks were thrown, high and arching invisible in the black sky before falling to earth like a tiny meteor we would turn and scurry off belly laughing until the one night we heard a scream that stopped us in our tracks. We all looked at each other our smiles fading, our eyes wide and afraid. We slowly crept back over to the wall in time to see a young woman holding her head being helped back across the street. Blood was streaming down her face. People were pouring from the bar looking up and pointing in every direction.

My heart was pounding so hard in my narrow chest I thought I might pass out. Alan was as pale as a sheet of paper, his brilliant blue eyes danced wildly back and forth between Billy and me. Billy, on the other hand, seemed as calm as if nothing had happened.

“Come on,” he said as he was slowly backing away from the wall.

“What are we going to do,” I asked.

“Nothing, they didn’t see us. They don’t know where the rocks came from.”

“Fuck you, Billy,” Alan said, “We’ve got to tell someone what happened.”

We went back and forth for several minutes before our fear of getting in trouble from our parents and our pure cowardice at the time won out and we decided to keep our secret, that is until now.

This is a recent picture of Chene street, it’s sad to see how bad it looks now. The last time I was anywhere near here was when Alan and I found out about Ramone’s death and that was about six blocks away from here. When we were growing up none of these buildings were abandoned, it was a bustling fun place to spend our weekends. It’s sad. Back to the story, the woman we hit and no one knows whose rock it was that hit her was fine. Turns out she was a young woman that worked up the block at what used to be a local drug store.

The woman was okay, we saw her a few days later working at the corner drug store at the end of the block, I forget the name of the place, but like everything else, in that area, I imagine it’s been closed for years by now. The name tag hanging on the shirt of her bland brown and white uniform was Janice.

The three of us walked to the counter carrying out Better Made potato chips and Faygo sodas. I remembered thinking that she was really pretty up close and that she looked way too young and innocent to be hanging out in a sleazy joint like Max’s. She had a small bandage on the right side of her head near the hairline where she had to have stitches.

“ Is that it,” she asked, her voice bored and robotic. She sat her paperback down on the stool next to her. She was looking right at us, but she really didn’t see us. We were an annoyance, like wiping down the counter or sweeping the floor, we were a chore she needed to get done as quickly as possible so that she could get back to her book, and here Billy was asking her stupid questions.

“What happened,” Billy asked pointing to the bandage on her head. Her eyes narrowed.

“None of your business, you little redneck tard.”

“Sorry,” Billy said slowly turning up the knob on his southern drawl. He gave her a sly knowing smile that suggested that he wasn’t sorry at all. She stared at him for a minute then glanced at Alan and me.

“Yeah, I bet you are… sorry.” She said to Billy, and then rang our items up and picked up her book and began to read as if we were no longer standing there, we were dismissed. As we walked out she looked up at us and with a slight smile spreading across her thin lips and the devil dancing behind her hazel eyes.

“Bye, bye, ” she said coldly while flicking her wrist at us then went back to her book.

“Jeez, what a bitch,” Alan said as we made our way back up the block toward Billy’s house.

“Yeah, maybe she has a headache,” Billy said trying to keep from laughing.

“Next time we should throw bricks,” I said joking.

“ Yeah, smash the wicked witch of the north,” Alan chimed in. The truth be told we were glad to see Janice was okay, and although no one ever said we shouldn’t do it, we never played “Stump the Drunk,” again. If I’m being honest and I always try to be, the way Janice treated us wasn’t that out of the ordinary. Most older girls didn’t appreciate young knot heads staring at their breasts or backsides. We were a small pack of horny dogs back then and Billy’s skin magazines didn’t help.

That night we went on deliveries with Billy’s mother. It was fun we would eat cakes and cookies until we had our fill, while we visited wonderbread, Bluebird, and several other major bread company warehouses. Most of the warehouse workers were mostly men at that time of night, between eleven at night and four in the morning would always hit on Billy’s mom, women did too. His mother seemed free and open, she didn’t carry the baggage other parents seem to lug around. She was happy with the way she was and didn’t seem to mind if people didn’t like or understand it.

There would be times usually when Lexi and Richard were fighting that she would seem to stay extra long at certain stops. She would be talking to the warehouse manager off in the shadows, and then they would be gone. sometimes for up to a half an hour at least that’s how long it seemed to me at the time. She would appear out of the shadows and without a word slide into her seat and buckle in.

“You boys ready to go home,” she’d asked in that sexy southern drawl of hers and before we could answer she would be pulling out of the dock. By the end of the night, the truck would be filled with empty bread trays stacked in columns against the front wall of the truck. The truck she drove was similar to a UPS truck with open sliding side doors on both sides. On summer nights Lexi would let us keep the side doors open so that we could catch a breeze as long as we stacked our trays toward the back and away from the open doors, and we did. The ride home was usually quiet. Our stomachs were full of cookies and cakes and we were beginning to come down off our sugar highs. We would each find ourselves a stack of empty bread trays and climb in. Our butts and backs were the only parts in the tray and our legs and arms would dangle over the sides and off to dreamland we would go. It doesn’t sound like it would be comfortable, but it was. Lulled to sleep by the sweet aroma of fresh bread lingering in the summer night breeze was great. It’s one of my fondest memories from my childhood to this day.

I remember it like it was yesterday, the night I almost died. The night we went out on the route was like any other night except on this night there had been a light drizzle. Not enough for an umbrella, but enough that if you stood out in it longer than a few minutes you would be wet. We waited for Lexi’s truck to be loaded and off we went. I could tell that Lexi was in a hurry to get done because Richard was going to be there when she got home. She did her route as quickly as possible and before we knew it we were all laying in our bread trays dozing off on the way back to Billy’s house.

The highway was nearly deserted like it always was on our early morning returns, I could vaguely hear the swooshing of the tires gliding over the wet roads. Lexi was unusually quiet on this night, most nights she would play the radio softly and sing along with the songs she liked, but not tonight. I would learn later that Lexi had asked to meet with Richard that night to tell him that their relationship was over and that she was thinking about moving back to Kentucky, the bakery was closing, but that wouldn’t be for another two years. Billy told us later that when he asked her why Richard stopped coming around she told him, she wanted to get married and Richard had broken his promise to leave his wife so she was leaving him. She just wanted to be free of Richard and the harassment of his wife.

As I slept on the bread rack I noticed that the trays were beginning to sway, we had stacked them to high and they were threatening to fall over. I opened my eyes and noticed that Billy was still sleeping and Alan had already jumped down from his pile and was already removing trays from his stack.

“ Your trays are too high you better…” Alan started to say when Lexi slammed on the breaks. A driver who was starting to fall asleep had swerved into her lane. Lexi blew the horn and swerved to miss him. The other driver swerved back into his lane. All the trays in the back of the truck went flying as she swerved back into her lane. Billy fell to the floor and was slammed into the sidewall. My stack of trays slowly tilted and fell forward and I went flying toward the open door. Lexi turned and through her arm out in my direction trying to break the fall, but she couldn’t hold the steering wheel and stop my fall at the same time. I could see the wet pavement rushing toward me glimmering like black ice.

My arms pinwheeled as I grasped for anything that would stop my fall. I remember thinking that I was about to die. I closed my eyes and tried to think of one of the prayers I had heard in church on the few mornings I went, but my mind was blank. The banging and clanking from the tumbling metal and plastic bread trays were deafening. As I slid forward I opened my mouth to scream. Suddenly I was no longer falling forward. I felt a sharp tug on my right leg and looked back and saw Alan holding onto one of the nylon straps used for tying down the trays and the other holding my leg. He was on one knee, his arms were spread eagle, he reminded me of the biblical Samson pushing the pillars apart in the temple of the Philistine leaders.

He was trembling, his head twisting back and forth like a wet dog shaking the water out of its fur. His blue eyes were so light they almost looked white. His lips were pulled back into a snarl exposing his clenched teeth. The cords of muscles in his skinny arms bulged and I could see it his eyes, if I went, he was going too.

“Help him,” Lexi screamed at Billy who was just sitting there frozen. He instantly snapped to life and grab my other leg and they pulled me back into the truck.

“ I got you,” Alan said with a nervous chuckle and patted me on the leg then fell back exhausted.

“You all right,” Lexi called back to me.

“Yes ma’am, I’m alright.”

*****

As we turned off of Chene street and onto I-94 the rain had begun to slow down. I looked at Alan’s profile remembering that night I almost died. He must have felt the weight of my stare. He turned to me wearing a slightly embarrassed expression.

“What,” he said grinning.

“Nothing,” I said.

“You looking at my pimple,” he brought a hand up to cover the red pimple on his cheek.

“ I wasn’t, but now that you mentioned it.” I laughed.

The rest of the ride was filled with reminiscing and jokes. I didn’t see Alan again for nearly four years.

1 note · View note

pedrospascalls · 3 years

Text

group plot based on famous 70s + 80s songs

cast of characters:

summer of ‘69: kip novak

keep on loving you: stevie jones

jessie’s girl: elijah cohen

straight up: noelle holmes

can’t fight this feeling: cara thorne

i want you to want me: mack knight

your love: devi knight

your song: clarissa devereux

one of us: [male]

heart of glass: rivkah aaron

heroes: donnie di stefano

total eclipse of the heart: bubblegum fortescue

let’s set the scene: the year is 2013 and the tabloids love to each up the stories about this group, appropriately named “the yhb, or the young hollywood bunch.” they were frequently seen together, whether it was visiting each other on set, each others homes, or at secret underground parties that were only seen via social media stories. they were never not seen without at least a couple of them at events, and every teenager in america was obsessed with being part of “the yhb.”

kip novak and some of the other eerie occurrences cast were the ringleaders that brought them all together. some had been in hollywood since they were kids, others just starting out, and others more or less just extensions of their famous relatives. since 2013, the group has regularly vacationed together and kept up their friendship despite all the drama that has occurred in it. the yhb were there for each other during it all, especially how hard it can be to be young and in hollywood.

below is the breakdown of how all the songs/characters intertwine besides being members of the yhb too. what is important to note is that these don’t have dates on them, so that is kind of up to your interpretation for when each element started or ended, and we can definitely discuss in server about it all too.

kip and stevie met through elijah and immediately clicked. they were young and stupid and really fucking passionate. what started as a teenage fling grew into a lot more than they were willing to let on. for a long time they were “nothing serious,” despite the fact everybody in the group knew never to come in between them. but eventually something clicked for them and they made the leap into a serious relationship. it lasted longer than most people expected, but still not that long before kip decided to self-sabotage and did everything in his power to get stevie to break up with him. it was messy, painful, and stupid...and kip made an even bigger mistake by sleeping with devi after the break-up as a way to solidify that they really can’t work.

except kip has since realized that stevie is everything he wants, but can no longer have. he desperately wants to go back to before it all got fucked up, and stevie feels that in her heart too...but he hurt her badly and she can’t trust him anymore. besides, she feels she has moved on with donnie, and he can make her happy and are healthy for her. elijah didn’t know noelle very well at first. at first they barely batted an eye when noelle came around. it wasn’t until noelle started dating cara that he saw her for the first time in a different way. something about not being able to have her if he wanted to anymore was what set him over the edge. at first it started out as just lusting for the object of his affections, but then it turned into more. by now, elijah can’t stop thinking about noelle and showcases this in small ways...and by getting underneath the sheets with mack. noelle has never been more confused than she is in this exact moment. she’s been with cara for some time now, but it has gotten to the point where she isn’t sure if cara is in it anymore. she’s confused and hurt, and desperately just wants cara to admit what she is hiding from noelle. at the same time, noelle has taken to unloading her feelings on elijah in hopes that she might have an answer [being close friends with cara and everything].

meanwhile, what cara isn’t telling noelle is that she is actually in love with mack. before noelle and cara began dating, there was a moment between mack and her. they had been best friends for years, but they had shared a kiss that was left buried for the past year. [it was mack that kissed cara]. cara brushed it off in hopes that she wouldn’t have to talk about it anymore, and then went on to date noelle.

but as the months went on, and the two stopped talking, she realized her true feelings. and mack had to watch on the outskirts while just internally begging cara to want her back. she turned to elijah during this time and the two have dried their tears with each other’s beds.

after hooking up with kip shortly after his break up, devi decided she wanted more with him. the two had been friends for as long as everybody else, but devi had lusted after him for longer than she’d like to have let on. it was always a game of cat and mouse with the two. but the hook up was nothing more than that [and it stoked a fire in the group as a whole], and devi wanted more. in an effort to make kip jealous, she began to “see” clary.

it was meant to be a casual thing, but it developed quickly into something a little more intimate. devi maintains that it was just to make kip jealous, but there was something deep down that she knew was actually there between the two. so much so that clary ended up drunkenly confessing her love for devi one night. it was meant to be just a party, but the night ended abruptly with this confession...in front of everybody. devi left quickly, and clary was left to drink her feelings away even more...now stuck in limbo in what to do.

one of us and rivkah were the longest standing relationship in the yhb. they had been together for longer than anybody could remember, really. or perhaps it was just how the group felt about them, having seen them grow with each other. but what is good can only last for so long, and one of us started to feel suffocated. he wanted to separate himself from rivkah and experience life without her for once. and so he broke it off, abruptly too. it made the whole group suddenly split as well, desperate to decide whose side to take and how to still see each other without these two together. rivkah is learning to pick up the pieces of her heart now and unsure whether or not to hate one of us or love him still.

meanwhile, one of us has started to realize that life without rivkah is not all that it’s cracked up to be. he has started to regret his decision but know he hurt rivkah so badly that there may not be a way back. besides, clary and rivkah have been bonding over their mutual heartbreak and one of us doesn’t really know what to make of it.

donnie and bubbles dated once upon a time, but now donnie is dating stevie. he is really into stevie and desperately wants it to work out. he thinks they are good together, which they are, and although their relationship is new, they think they can make it work long term. unfortunately, that means donnie is also completely oblivious to bubbles’s resurfaced feelings and affections for him.

bubbles isn’t hiding her feelings either. she doesn’t quite care that donnie is dating stevie and firmly believes the two shouldn’t really be together. she’s started reaching out to one of us, who is going through a similar thing of wanting an ex back, and the two have been attempting to devise a plan to get their loved ones back. a map to help you!! https://i.postimg.cc/rmNCN9Md/New-Mind-Map.png

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h-eckers · 7 years

Text

Rough Night - Shed Your Skin Part 3

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4

A/N: I had no idea where this was going to go when I started writing and I don’t know how i feel about how it turned out but here it is because I do like this story line, serpent Jug is good.

Summary: Jughead has a really rough night filled entirely with a lot of serious conversations and a lil’ almost something else

Word Count: 3,999 (yeesh)

Warnings: Gang activity, (underage) drinking, swearing

"You're off your game tonight." The bar was crowded and full with smoke and the smell of cheap alcohol, it always was this time of night. Donnie looked between the dartboard and his friend, her face contorted with a look of distance, as though she was in another place entirely. "You okay?" His voice broke her from her trance, now beside her as he sat down at the bar, close enough to be heard over the other noise.

"I've been better." She admitted without hesitation, it was unlike her to lie at all, hiding the truth was a matter of difference, but lying wasn't something she had ever considered just. "Rough night."

"Was it the job? Mark said it was just a drop off but you look pretty beaten up." His eyes followed the lines of her face, observing the new bruises already blossoming in red and purple hues across her cheeks, the split in her lip still raw and close to bleeding.

"He didn't want to pay, he tried to slam a door in my face and so I beat him until he was near unconscious." She explained calmly, turning back to face the bar, turning her back on the clamouring, raucous bodies jammed into the Whyte Wyrm.

"The usual then." He shrugged back, it wasn't an uncommon occurrence that the Serpents took to violence as payment for wrongdoings, and it wasn't something they ever apologized for. After all, The South side Serpents are a gang, and dealings with gangs are never entirely free of blood. "So it wasn't the job?"

"No, and yes." She sighed, waving down the bartender who needn't ask what she was drinking, it was the same whiskey every time, "The job was easy, but I took Jughead with me. He asked to come and I knew I'd have to let him or else he'd follow me anyway. He didn't help he just watch but you should have seen how shaken up that boy looked."

"He's leaving then." Donnie sighed heavily, staring into the glass on the bar before him, "He's a gentle kid, I didn't think he'd last long."

"Actually, he's stayin'." Y/N lifted her drink to her lips slowly, hesitating as though she was about to say something else and stopping before she could. Donnie would have been ecstatic if he couldn't tell by the look in her eyes that there was more to it, that there was a big and intimidating 'but' looming over the conversation.

"But...?" He asked, pushing it himself seeing as though she didn't seem entirely keen to dwell on the matter herself.

"But I think it's because of me." She downed the rest of her drink with those words, savouring the sweet burn and bitter taste as she beckoned the bartender over again for a refill. "We got... Intimate for a minute just before. Nothing happened really, nothing X-rated at least but I think it would have."

"Why didn't it?" He was used to this, driving the conversation when she wouldn't say it herself, an unfortunate and yet often valuable trait of Y/N's is that she rarely ever spoke about her feelings, to anyone, Donnie was a rare and talented occurrence of a man who was able to get just close enough to talk to her openly when he could but he was always the driving force.

"His girlfriend showed up." Her voice remained monotonous, but somehow that one made her frustration all the more evident.

"I'm beginning to see your problem." Donnie chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair, and tapping the side of his glass.

"Yeah, well, he's been with her for the past two hours while I've been here, waiting like an idiot." She grunted softly, narrowing her eyes at the small bowl of peanuts a few feet away as though they had caused this issue in its entirety.

"Well, it sounds like they did have a lot to talk about." The older man shrugged, reaching over to pat her on the back gently, a soothing gesture that only small still managed to ease some of the tension wound so tightly in her body she was wondering when she would explode.

"He won't leave her." Y/N said bluntly, shrugging a little and letting out a bitter laugh, "Why would he? She's the picture of perfection."

"You ain't so bad yourself, kid."

"I'm in a gang, Donnie. I beat people up as part of my job, and he's just rolled in from the pretty part of town. I don't stand a chance." There wasn't much he could say to her, he didn't believe she was as bad as she thought and yet he couldn't argue with that considering it was true in part. Jughead had come from the part of town with picket fences and family dinners and now he stood in the middle of a world where split lips and leather were the most normal thing in the world.

They sat side by side in silence, listening to the sounds of scuffles and screamed conversations across a smoky room, with grey people. This was life for them and that was okay, okay until it meant that her heart, so heavily guarded, was in danger of being infiltrated and torn down from the inside out.

"I'm going outside for a smoke, you coming?" Donnie offered, the noise being a bit too much tonight despite how ridiculously often he heard it. Y/N nodded and said nothing more, simply following him out, ducking and weaving between the bodies of patrons like it was a game until they reached the door, pushing out into the crisp air of a night on the South side, somehow the breeze even seemed permeated with cigarette smoke, and they weren't about to help minimize that.

The two of them walked out to the parking lot together, finding a spot on the gravel not too far from the bar's doors, both of them sat on the ground, spread out in the empty space there as he offered her a cigarette which she gratefully took. As they often did, they sat in quiet, nothing said, no unnecessary words exchanged, their company was enough for the other and comfort enough for Y/N.

"That doesn't look comfortable." His voice came as a shock to them both, Y/N jumped slightly, turning to see none other than Jughead Jones appearing out of the darkness, and perhaps what hit her first, and definitely hardest, was the fact that he wasn't wearing his jacket. Maybe it meant nothing, but then again... Maybe it did.

"It's not the best but it ain't terrible." She shrugged, Donnie cleared his throat and stood, excusing himself.

"I'll meet you back inside." He shared a look with his friend and Y/N simply nodded in reply before Donnie turned his back and headed into the bar again as Jughead took his place on the ground beside Y/N.

"How'd things go with Betty?" She asked carefully, her mind tempting her to use other alternatives for the girl’s name.

"Tense, but okay overall." He sighed heavily, "I told her what happened and she said she understood, obviously she wasn't pleased but she said I've been through a lot and I was 'bound to lash out'." He used his fingers to make air quotes around those words, Y/N only scoffed.

"Right, I'm the emotionally fuelled mistake then?" She mumbled, taking a drag from the cigarette in her hand and watching the smoke twist away into a clouded sky as she breathed out.

"Not a mistake." He said, his eyes falling on her face, watching her eyes avoid his in their aimless staring at the sky. "It's just difficult. Betty is important to me, and this life, what you do, it's not exactly a stable choice, nor is it the most moral. You've got to understand that I would be leaving a life behind completely, and people that I care about. That doesn't mean it's a mistake."

"Then what?" She chuckled humourlessly, finally looking over at him, "A regret? A fun story for your kids when they're old enough? What am I, Jug?" Her tone never wavered in its strength, just like its owner.

"You're over-reacting. It's not about you." He raised an eyebrow and she opened her mouth to protest, closing it again immediately as anger bubbled up in her chest only to come out as a laugh.

"Not about me?" She said in disbelief, her jaw clenching as her eyes stung with tears that she refused to let fall.

"I just mean that you don't lose here, no matter what happens you get to go on with life as normal but for me, everything changes." He sighed heavily, running his fingers slowly through tangled locks, Y/N scoffed, "I can't just leave, Betty."

"Why not?" she asked, "You want to be with us, she hates us. I figured I'd made it obvious that I care about you."

"And I care about you, I think you know that." He said carefully, watching her fingers flicking away the ever growing ash on the tip of her cigarette as grey wisps fell from her lips.

"Right, I get it." She grumbled, standing in her spot and brushing off her jeans, dropping her half smoked cigarette and grinding it into the ground with her boot, a feeling she could relate to at the moment. "You care about me, but just not enough to give up Riverdale Barbie."

Jughead stood up after her, rolling his eyes, "Not right now." He said slowly, drawing it out as though that might help her understand.

"So what are you waiting for? If you're with us, and you want me, what the fuck are you waiting for?!" Y/N huffed, folding her arms across her chest in indignation.

"I'm trying to keep some of my old friendships intact, you know." He chuckled softly and Y/N groaned, rubbing her face angrily.

"But I just-" she cut herself off, shaking her head and storming back towards the bar. Jughead followed her.

"You just what?" He asked, grabbing her arm and spinning her around to face him just before she could reach the doors.

"It doesn't matter." She grumbled, letting him pull her closer to him, backing her up against the wall outside the Wyrm to hold her trapped.

"You just what, Y/N?" He repeated, that tone in his voice that made shivers brush across her skin like feathers.

"What if I want you now?" She said softly, looking anywhere but his eyes seeing as she was trapped between a wall and his chest.

"Then you can have me now." That devilish grin found its way to his face again and Y/N had to force herself not to smile back at him.

"You have a blonde, remember?" She said, testing the water for his response, though her hands had already found their way to his waist, pulling him closer by the fabric of his shirt.

"That didn't stop you last time." He ducked his head, connecting their lips, softly at first but as it always did, an undeniable need bled into them both quickly, a hunger that only each other could satiate.

His hands slipped to her hips, immediately tugging the hem of her shirt from under her jeans, seeking entry to reach her warm skin, her arms coming to wrap around his neck to keep him near as their lips moved together, "I think we're falling into a pattern." She whispered breathlessly against his lips, he smirked into the kiss, nodding.

"I'll fight with you every day if this is how we make up." He muttered, groaning softly when she bit his lip gently.

"Trust me," she hummed, leaning into his ear and kissing the side of his neck, "it gets better." She moved her hips, pulling into to grind against him harshly. He groaned into the side of her neck, attempting to stay upright in his current position and finding it extremely difficult.

"Shit, Y/N." He hissed softly, putting his hands on the wall behind her to steady himself. "We should go somewhere, yeah?" He asked her breathlessly, seeking desperate permission to feel more of her. She nodded quickly.

"Mhmm, your place." She mumbled, her hands finding his cheeks and pulling him up to kiss her again deeply, her fingers moving to trace the line of his jaw and he only reciprocated with tracing circles across the soft skin of her hips though she could feel them twitching to move elsewhere. "Now."

Never in her life had she moved so fast, or used so much energy in pursuit of something pleasurable, but the energy buzzing in her stomach was indisputable excitement. In him was the same feeling, an aching anticipation in his chest that made his whole body feel like it was on some blissful kind of fire. They had walked, having no plans of leaving so soon, the two of them had assumed they could walk leisurely home but now the need to be alone became a necessity, alone together was all that matter in both of their focussed minds.

Their hands interlinked out of sheer need for touch, such desperate hands clinging to each other as best as possible until they could be otherwise occupied. "You ever done this before?" Jughead said breathlessly, running faster than he'd ever expected his legs be able to carry him.

"No." She replied on a breathy laugh as she attempted to keep up with the eager boy, he threw back at her a disbelieving look.

"You know I didn't mean the running right?" He heaved slightly, dragging her to a stop on the sidewalk where she almost fell into his arms from the momentum of running.

"I know what you meant, and the answer is still no." She gasped softly in attempt to breathe.

"And you want to?" He asked softly, partially out of gentleness and partially out of the inability to breathe.

"I do." She hummed and he smiled, pulling her in and joining their lips, ignited with a certain sort of passion that was hard to find, especially in two people as different as them. His hands found her waist on a most primal instinct and hers came to his chest like magnets drawn to each other.

They moved together like perfection, breaking the contact of their lips only briefly each second to get as much oxygen as possible through heaving breaths from running, their air deprived lungs demanding it and their need insisting that every point of contact be made between them that was possible. "We need to go now." He whispered, though he clung to her like he'd never let go.

"Can't control yourself, Jug?" She moaned, only half falsely to tease and yet in full knowledge that this would push him further into her open and waiting arms.

"Not when you say my name like that." He grunted, grabbing her hand again, he needed to be home, alone with her, immediately. Even as they ran the short rest of the way back home, he was unbuttoning his shirt with his free hand, fumbling ridiculously but trying to make up for lost time, Y/N would have gotten started herself except a T-shirt and jeans weren't removable whilst running.

When they got close to the driveway both of them almost cried with relief and when they rounded the corner to see the house Jughead collapsed, straight to his knees into the dirt, and Y/N had half a mind to collapse right alongside him, both of them absolutely shattered in a single instant.

"I'm assuming you know who's that is?" Y/N breathed, so needy that it had become physically painful when she saw the unfamiliar truck taking up the space in front of the house.

"It's Archie's," Jughead groaned, rubbing his face, and staring at the truck hopelessly, "I guess Betty didn't leave after we talked."

"And she brought friends, how polite." Y/N was caught between complete sadness and unadulterated rage.

"We can't-"

"God, please don't say it out loud. I might pass out." She mumbled, he chuckled bitterly, letting her help him up off the ground.

"I should go in." He grunted harshly, doing the buttons on his shirt back up as he stared begrudgingly at the door he was about to walk through.

"Right, so that my cue to leave?" She asked, readjusting her shirt under her Serpent jacket. Jughead grabbed her arm before she could even think to turn around, his eyes still swimming with something lustful and possessive.

"You aren't going anywhere," he stepped forward to her, pushing her hair back from her face and putting his hands on her neck gently, "as soon as they go, you're all mine and I will do with you what I want."

"I'm so glad you're a writer," she whispered, biting her lip softly, "you always have the words to make me feel... Desperate."

"Okay, if I'm gonna go in there I'm gonna need you to stop talking like that." He said tightly, taking a small step away from her as to appear they hadn't been close at all.

"Of course, best friendship faces on for the princess." She rolled her eyes, pulling her hair back to hide it's dishevelment as best she could.

They walked a few feet apart, Jughead in front as one would expect as he walked past the door into his own home, Betty and Archie we're there as expected, and Veronica, and Kevin. All sat on the couches in the living room, waiting for him. As soon as he entered, they stood, looking at him with pitiful eyes. "Jughead, we need to talk." Veronica said carefully, like talking to a small child about serious adult issues.

"Betty told us you we're going with the Serpents, that you tried to end things with her." Archie explained, Jughead's response was overshadowed completely when Y/N finally walked inside, eyes widening slightly at the mob when she'd expected a pair.

"Woah, uh, I'm interrupting aren't I?" She chuckled softly, rubbing the back of her head, "Uhm, I'll... I'll be in FP's room so you guys can have privacy." She nodded once before retiring, hiding away in his father's room like she said she would.

"Is that her?" Kevin finally spoke up, Veronica glared at him and Kevin sunk back in his seat carefully. "I was just curious." He grumbled unhappily, he had been left out of the drama until quite recently. Now he was privy and he was absolutely starved for information that he wasn't being given.

"Yeah, it is." Betty said, her voice strong as always though her eyes betrayed anger, "You were with her again?"

"I told you, Betty, she's looking after me, teaching me to fight. If I'm going to do this, I need her help." Jughead sighed, he'd already had this conversation once tonight with her. He'd tried to explain that this was what he wanted, tried to explain that Y/N was what he wanted, and desperately she had begged him to reconsider. He had, and he came to the conclusion that as much as he loved his friends, he knew what he wanted.

"We talked about this is and I-" Betty tried to speak again but this time Jughead was taking control of the situation.

"Yeah, we did, and if I'm not mistaken we decided only a few hours ago that you and I would attempt stay together, and I would hear you out about the serpents." He said, his voice full of a power only an angered man could muster, "And I heard you out, and I'm sorry but this is what I want. I told you that."

"You said you'd think about it!"

"And I did! This is what I want. They are family, they have treated me like family and welcomed me like blood! Why is that so terrible?" He snapped back, the others we're suddenly inclined to leave them alone as well, becoming forgotten furniture in an intervention that was rapidly falling apart.

"They are a gang!" Betty spoke back with horrified anger in her voice, "And she is a-"

"Don't you dare." He cut in immediately, "Do not say a single thing about her, you don't know her! She has been nothing but incredible to me."

"Incredible at sticking her tongue down your throat, maybe, all the while you have a girlfriend!" He shot back straight away, his heart growing tired and heavy with this same conversation.

"Betty, please, I told you that I wanted to..." He trailed off at the sight of her eyes filled with crystal tears. It hurt to see her that way, he did care about her, just not the same way he thought he did, and he didn't want to see her hurt, but all the same he wasn't about to throw everything away.

"To what?" Kevin piped up, perhaps the only one of the remaining three in the room that wasn’t in a petrified state of awkwardness, but rather in a state of intense interest about the whole situation.

"He wanted to leave me." Betty finished for him, Jughead looked away shamefully, and no one was shocked. He had told Betty and the others had anticipated this from the day he showed up at Southside high instead of Riverdale, no one had the heart to tell her so.

"It's for the best." He said, weak in voice as he was in spirit, it was difficult.

"Why?" She asked softly, those tears falling onto her cheeks. Before they had made him question, now they only strengthen his convictions, however painful.

"I think you know why." He sighed softly, "We are so so different and we aren't good for each other! Besides I can't be with you if you hate them or even just her."

"Okay." She replied weakly, smiling timidly, Jughead felt a relief, a weight of his shoulders for only a moment before she spoke again, "Then if that's what it takes, I'll meet her again. We'll be friends."

"Betty, that's not-"

"Why not? If the only reason we can't be together is that I don't like her, then I'll learn to like her." Betty said, grasping violently at cut ends that we're falling away because she wanted to hang onto something that wasn't in her reach, Jughead wanted to argue though something in him suggested that would do no good.

"I want to be with her." He gave a final attempt, his heart beat faster at trying.

"Uhm, does anyone mind if I interject here?" Y/N asked nervously, emerging from the adjoining room. "Seeing as I am the 'she' and the 'her' everyone keeps referring to."

Silence followed, she took that as an opportunity to speak.

"I'll be your friend." She said simply, shrugging with that signature smirk across her lips and hands crammed into her pockets, her eyes narrowed towards Betty, "Hell, I'll be the best God damn friend you've ever had, but I have one condition."

"What?" Betty seemed unsure, I'll at ease and completely enraged and, most prominently, unsure.

"He's mine." She said sternly, "I'll be your friend, I'll even participate in whatever lame shit you Riverdale kids call fun and maybe, possibly, you and him will rekindle some spark and he'll decide he wants to be with you again but until then, and if he doesn't, Jughead's mine." She raised an eyebrow, stepping towards Betty, a devilish look in her eyes that the other girl might be scared of if it wasn't such a strangely attractive quality.

There was more silence. Betty considered the offer carefully for a moment, and her desire to win against this girl in front of her was so strong she was beginning to believe that might be the real reason she was fighting so hard.

"Fine... We have a deal."

Kevin glanced over at Veronica and Archie's equally stunned and confused expressions, matching his own awe.

"I can't believe I almost missed this for the new episode of Law and Order."

Jughead tags: @princessjughead @unicornqueen05 @andforthecoating @mrs-fangirl @aselfishllama @andywicked @riverdalemami @savygabby @emilywithroses @jugheadmaybe @tryingtobreaththroughthenose @coffeeandwhining

Everything tags: @gryffndor @itsjaynebird @vanessa-sanch-blog @lost-in-wonderland-x @annoyingsibling @bex09 @jugheadjonesatemyheart @iseestormyskiesahead @eliza-@eliza-hamilton-helpless

Shed Your Skin Tags: @myteenwolf-world @forsythe-pendleton-jones-iv @lostqueen1613 @junebug0907 @me-myself-and-my-blog @-els @aarchetypes

#riverdale #riverdale fic #riverdale imagine #jughead #jughead ifc #jughead imagine #jughead jones #jughead jones fic #jughead jones imagine #jughead x reader #jughead jones x reader

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