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afreakingdork · 1 year

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Crush Too Much - Part 2

RotTMNT Donatello x GN!Reader

Warnings: Light Angst, Fluff, Embarrassment, Overbearing Siblings, Aged-up Turtles

Synopsis: So you met a customer three times at work and that made a pretty big impression on you? That’s nothing to necessarily get worked up over, but when you’re all prepared to ask for his number the next time you see him and his brother gets involved instead, you might be in for something more than you bargained for.

FIRST

A/N: Hey, guess what? I did it again. Totally not on purpose, but this is a second chapter in my donniexreader where Donnie is not present. I’m a monster, I know. Anyway, I SWEAR he’s in part 3. It’s called build-up, trust me. Plus it'll be a long one. Hang in there!

Closing up was usually an oddly cathartic experience, but after your previous encounter you couldn’t help but replay the events of the evening over and over. It was during one of these rehashings that you realized Leo was presumptively announced he was coming to meet you here tomorrow. Thankfully you indeed had another shift, but did he even know what time? Your frustrations with yourself misplaced, you cursed his intuitiveness. It was like he knew exactly what was going to happen and was just playing out the steps. The grudge took your through the end of your shift and you bid farewell to the cook as he locked up. Welcoming the non-grease soaked crisp air of late autumn you pulled your jacket tight around you. You decided you’d wasted enough time worrying about everything today and would let tomorrow pick-up where agonizing left off.

A morning class and an afternoon shift preoccupied the forefront of your conscious thoughts, but there was a nagging sense of stand-by as many seemingly human and certainly not blue themed customers filled through. On one hand the waiting was driving you insane, but on the other you wouldn’t have had time to talk to Leo which would have been its own form of torture. It left you in a dull pizza slinging rock and hard place that went right to your 4pm clock out. He hadn’t shown. As you headed into the back to grab your backpack, a new form of irritation built up bitterness in your throat. You had been so concerned with the strange meeting and second convergence that it never occurred to you that he could have been playing you all along. Folding up your apron and harshly shoving it into a side pocket of your bag, you pictured a Leo, dripping with charismatic venom, retelling your tale to his purple themed brother. You didn’t have the heart to picture what his response was, but you had gleaned enough from your run in with Leo to paint a menacing portrait. You wondered if the two of them would come in and snicker at your picking up their order next week. Shouldering your bag, it also dawned on you that they may stop coming all together. There’s a million pizza places in New York and no reason to keep going to the one where the creepy employee has decided they like you after a few chance encounters.

The anger fizzled out into a deep ache as you emerged from the back on the restaurant. This was exactly why you hadn’t wanted to talk about it prematurely. It hadn’t had time to grow into anything substantial to justify conversation. You had just been caught up of the euphoria of puppy love. It was the definition of shallow attachment. With your head down you would have let these thoughts carry you home until a voice broke through.

“Hellooooo! Y/N! Over here!” That sing-song tone was identical to last night.

A flicker of hope sparked in your chest as you looked up to find Leo reclined at a table with his feet up and the chair tipped back at a dangerous angle. He continued to wave as you approached.

“Well this is a nice change of pace.” He swung his legs off the table and the chair made a loud clack as all four of its legs met with the ground once more. “You look surprised to see me this time. If you’re keeping track, and you should, awe is one of my preferred emotions to be graced with.”

You feigned a gag at him as you sat down. He chuckled at the reaction and folded his hands under his chin. It gave him the appearance of an all-knowing mob boss. You looked away to put your bag beside your seat. “How did you know when I was going to get off?”

He shrugged, but there was that smarmy smile on his face that said there was more to it.

Frustratingly, you were still nowhere near ready to take him on. “How was your work then?”

“Oh, same ole’, same ole’. Missions, patrol, reconnaissance, training…” He counted off the items on what you realized was a three-fingered hand. The thought was trumped by his phrasing which reinforced the earlier Mafioso image.

“Can I even ask what you do?” You gave him a tired sweep and it wasn’t just because you’d been up since 7am.

His dismissive smile and half-lidded gaze told you that was off the table. Instead, he cocked his head to the side atop his hand perch. “Let’s cut to the chase. I’ve given it some thought and you want my bro’s number, but what are you planning to do after that?”

You perked up at the question. Everything had happened so simultaneously fast and slow, you hadn’t even thought that far ahead. Your lips parted slightly, but closed as you couldn’t come up with a response quick enough.

Leo nodded thoughtfully. “Would you say you have a crush on him?”

“A crush?” You parroted the phrase back unconsciously.

“Based on what you told me yesterday, I doubt you could say you like him substantially. You don’t even know his name.”

You didn’t mean the slight wince that twitched across your brow. He wasn’t saying it with malice, but it made you feel guilty about your intentions even if you didn’t know what they were. The superficial sentiments you’d had right before this second meeting floated back to you. You wondered if Leo had conferred with his brother and found out he wasn’t interested. Maybe this thought exercise was a way to dissuade you. You looked down at the worn table and picked at a scratch mark. “You’re right.”

“About…?” There was a melodic note again.

“I haven’t thought it through. I don’t know if it’s a crush. I don’t…” You paused and took a deep breath to calculate your next sentence. You chanced a glance back up at Leo who watched you patiently with a clear gaze. It made you want to gamble on honesty with him again. “All I know is there is something about your brother that draws me to him. I’d like to find out what that is.” The stoicism you had projected when saying the sentence immediately buckled under the weight of the embarrassment from its content. You would have sunk down into an amorphous blob in your seat if you could.

Across from you, however, Leo smiled so brightly and with such authenticity that it blinded you from your own anxieties. “That’s what I was hoping to hear.” His eyes closed as he placed both his hands on the table with purpose. You watched with mild astonishment as he stood up causing his chair to give a commanding screech. He kept his hands planted firmly and opened his eyes to stare down at you with purpose. “I’ll set you up with another chance, but in return you have to do something for ole’ Leon. How does that sound?”

He was so unbelievably precocious. A million thoughts ran through your mind, but you certainly weren’t going to let him get away with a full tilt manipulation of the conversation again. You held you hands up in front of you and waved them for a time out. “Wait, wait, wait…”

“Hey, don’t blame me if the deal doesn’t last long-“

“You were hoping I wouldn’t know how I felt about your brother?”

He blinked and you relished in the fact that for once you hadn’t finally caught him off guard. He sat back down methodically in a means that read to you as cover up for the slight crack in his façade. “If you really want to know, it says a ton about you. You’re honest. You’re cautious. You’re not stubborn. There were a lot of things you could have said and nothing was necessarily a right answer, but what you chose was pleasantly telling.”

It wasn’t that you were flattered, but something about what he said did make you feel better. It gave you enough of a boost to ask your next question that you weren’t sure how he would handle. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I kind of got the vibe you were acting as a protective brother, but you want a favor out of it?”

“Hey, I can look out for him and me at the same time.” Leo gave a flourish as he threw his hands up in a shrug.

That made a ton of sense coming from him. There was really only one last question you had left. “So… It’s Leon now?”

His eyes seemed to shine at the mention of his name. It made the corner of your mouth upturn after he had tried to nag you for the same thing yesterday. “You can think of it like a game of H-O-R-S-E. I’ll slowly reveal my name one letter at a time!” As he spoke you could tell he was falling in love with the idea.

“Ok” You chuckled out, shaking your head. He was simultaneously incomprehensible and as easy to please as a child. “But what do you want? Like a favor?”

“Good question.” He kicked back, tilting his chair once again. “You reek of poor college student and I was kinda hoping for a good negotiation.”

“You want me to barter with you so I can get your brother's number?” You already knew those were the terms, but you thought if you repeated it back to him he might realize how incredulous it sounded.

“Pretty much!” A hand shot up in the air and he spun it at the wrist for you to commence the bidding.

“Uh…” It felt like you were put on the spot so you scanned the table as you rooted through a mental folder of what you had to offer. Seeing the choices laid out, something occurred to you. “Other than pizza and yourself, I have no idea what you like.”

The mention of his ego caused a bark of laughter to burst from him. “Ah, I wasn’t sure, but the more we talk I see you’ve got some wits about you. That’ll help, for sure.”

The way he said it made you remember what you were doing all this for. You turned your head to look out the window to partially hide your smile. The quiet that followed from across the table meant you hadn’t done a good job, but at this point you didn’t really care.

“While I would love to list my many incredible hobbies and interests, I guess I won’t bombard you with the details.” You felt him shuffle in his seat through the table. “Free pizza?”

“I wish.” You turned back to him with a mildly haunted look. “I’m lucky if I get the leftovers at the end of the night. The pizza brothers really pride themselves on quality and no free hand outs.”

He matched gape and folded slightly into himself with resentment mumbling something that you could have swore was about not getting free pizza for saving the world. As far as you knew, this family sure loved telling outrageous tales. You were about to mention it when something about the repeated mention of 'free' jogged your memory. “Wait, I think I might have an idea you’ll like.”

“Go on?” Leo leaned forward with tempered excitement.

“I have a friend who’s having a few of her pieces shown at a local gallery. I don’t know how you feel about art, but the openings are always schmoozy with free cheese plates and stuff!”

Leo’s eyes closed as he digested the information. You watched his mouth crinkle and could tell he was imaging some elaborate scenario where he was the star of the party. When his eyes popped back open, you knew it was in the bag. “Eh, depends on the art, but I love a good schmooze and especially free food. You’ve got yourself a deal, Y/N!” He reached a hand out across the table and you shook it confidently.

“So-“

“Give me your phone for a second.”

You blinked, your hand slowed as your parted the shake. “What?”

“Your phone, I need your number so you can tell me when the opening is and I can tell you if anything changes on my end.” His hand stayed in place, but turned into an awaiting palm. Mechanically you unearthed your device from your backpack and deposited it into the waiting green appendage. He thumbed through the phone with impressive speed and handed it back to you. “Welp, duty calls!”

“You’re just running off again? Well-When?” He stood and you mirrored him, desperately taking an extra action to grab your bag as he made it one step closer to the door. “Couldn’t you just give me his number?”

That gave him pause as his finger tips made content with the door’s metal frame. “That ain’t it, compadre.”

“That… what?” You wondered how long it would be until he couldn’t throw you off with just a simple change of word choice.

Leo turned and walked back over to you with a seriousness hanging overhead. “Look, this is fun and all, but it isn’t actually a game. I am looking out for my brother, but there’s no way I would actually bet him. All I’m doing is creating a chance for you to ask him for his number. If he says no, then that’s what happens. His feelings are his own.”

You shrank slightly under the gravity of his aura, but your mental approval of Leo ticked up several notches. “O-of course.” You squawked, flustered that you might have ruined your chance by misspeaking. Thankfully, whatever sincerity you had internally must have telegraphed across your face between Leo softened with a nod.

“Just keep it in mind.” He shrugged a shoulder at you that read you could calm down and he made for the door once more. It opened with that all familiar bell and you watched as he tossed one last thing to you. “Make sure you’re on schedule for next week’s Hamato family pick-up!” He disappeared onto the street and your bag sagged in your finger tips. A small smile played on your lips as you shouldered a strap and followed suit.

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afreakingdork · 1 year

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Crush Too Much - Part 7

RotTMNT Donatello x GN!Reader

Warnings: Light Angst, Fluff, Embarrassment, Overbearing Siblings, Aged-up Turtles

FIRST 💜 PREVIOUS

“This would happen in New Jersey!” Donnie griped from underneath the van.

The street it had broken down on was desolate so you sat beside him on the road leaning against the large rear all-terrain tires. “How did you get your driver’s license?”

“Like anyone else.” He responded in time with the soft clicking of something being tightened.

“It’s hard to picture you standing in line at the DMV.”

“Oh, you meant legally?” Though you couldn’t see him you could tell he was joking. Kicking your leg out, you tapped your shoe against his ankle. “Ow. Oh. Oh no. I have been mortally wounded. Now you’re stuck in this tragic place.” His dry wit brought a lazy smile to your face.

You leaned your head back against the rubber and looked up at the sky. “We’re not gonna make it.”

“Time.”

You pulled out your phone. “Almost 8.”

“A surprising lack of faith from the individual that asked acquaintance to trust them before dragging them to arguably one of the most seedy restaurant fronts in the city.”

Staring at the lock screen photo of the two of you from your rooftop rendezvous, heat pooled in your cheeks. You wouldn’t have asked just any acquaintance to do that. The eventualities had been on the fringes of your thoughts since your meeting with Leo. For now you’d change the subject. “Tell me more about the van.” You shuffled your legs into a straight line and clicked your sneakers together. On the quiet road, you could just hear your aglets clatter against one another.

Donnie slid out from under the vehicle and posed on his side in a French girl manner. “I acknowledge that by changing the subject you are avoiding an admission of guilt, but hoo boy!!” He shouted and jumped to his feet. “I’ll take any opportunity to talk about the Dream Van!”

He held out a hand to help you to your feet and you took it. As soon as you were righted, he released you in favor of hugging the car. You tried to curb your smile by biting your lip.

“I spotted her like a glittering jewel in the desert of Repo Mantis’ scrap yard!” He ran a hand along the side door. “Still mostly intact, though obviously broken down, she called to me in a sweet language only I can hear.”

You were so glad you were already chewing on your bottom lip. “Purple?”

He stopped and shot you a scandalized glare.

The distant streetlight just barely illuminated the pearlescent paint job in said shade. “You mentioned restoring the original color when I complimented her earlier.” Tipping to one side you let your shoulder bump up against the vehicle.

“Hey!” Donnie pried himself off the van to shoo you away. “Insult the Dream Van and you don’t get to touch the Dream Van.”

Maybe it was the relaxed boredom, but you just wanted to press his buttons a little more tonight. You took a step back, hands raised in defeat. He gave a curt nod and just as he was about to return to his explanation, you reached out a single digit toward the van.

“Don’t…” He warned, throwing up a challenging finger of his own.

As soon as your pointer made contact with the cold steel, you were both off. You kept a hand to the vehicle as your rounded the rear. Donnie forwent the obvious straight chase line and lept straight over the van, cutting you off on the other side. His smug smile turned to dismay as the worn tread on your sneakers skidded on an unknown sidewalk puddle. The two of your unceremoniously collided. You waited for gravity to take over, but the world didn’t seemed to rotate around you. Blinking you looked up to find Donnie had reflexively caught you and was staring at your with a self-satisfied smirk.

“I’m starting to get the feeling that you don’t actually want to hear about the van.”

From your current proximity, you had a clear shot of the just barely marred shred of sadness in his otherwise deadpan gaze. “No, I do!”

He raised a single brow in question.

“I-“ You started and sighed, your eyes cast down from your delinquency. “It’s just we’ve been here for about an hour and I’m no help when it comes to this.” You nodded a head toward the vehicle and Donnie blew a relaxed puff of air out his nose.

“’Idle hands.’” He shook his head. “I have 3 brothers or did the prospect of an exciting night of science distract you from that?”

“You’re used to it.” You shook your head, parsing out his meaning. “I would say I’m a normal amount of excited for LSC After Dark.”

“It’s true.” Donnie tipped his head to the side with mild dismay. “If the Gilder Center had an afterhours event, that would be better suited to my tastes.”

“Are you telling me the science speakeasy and dance floor with a touch of science aren’t your speed?” You put on your best puppy dog eyes knowing full well Donnie had shot down the third Thursday party transformation at the Liberty City Science Center over text.

“Maybe if it actually had a modicum to do with science.” He rolled his eyes, but a thought seemed to strike him. “A techno rave where the beats per minute were set in a way to mimic heart rate.”

“Oh, it could be a five senses sort of thing!” You brightened, catching wind of his idea.

“A full body experience manipulation of one’s faculties.” You watched as he seemed to already be creating a mental map. “The ultimate implementation of jams!”

“Club owner has now been added to Donnie’s to-do list.”

“As if it already wasn’t.” His brows wiggled in a way that said he thought of everything. You smiled cheekily and felt a hum in his chest as his brain switched gears. That exact sound made you realize that he was still holding you. You cursed yourself for not taking the proper time to appreciate the moment. On the other hand, it was jarring that it’d felt so natural you hadn’t noticed it was happening at all. “Most of tonight’s events are placating stunts for masses that’d like to portray themselves as having scientific prowess. I’m more interested in gaining access to the planetarium and picking the brain of tonight’s Space Talk speaker.”

“Which we will miss if you don’t get the van running again.” Any hesitation you had about shifting his attention was immediately eclipsed by the guilt of causing him to miss the events he'd listed. He’d been willing to come all the way out to New Jersey to attend and that said more than enough about his excitement.

“Yes, of course.” He released you and brought a hand to his chin as he rounded the vehicle to gain access to the hood. “I regret having not installed a monitoring system!”

“Why didn’t you?” You followed him at a much slower pace.

He shot you a quick look that said you didn’t need to bother before scouring the engine.

You deserved that. “I wasn’t lying. I did want to know more about the van.”

He made a sound of wry sound of uncertainty, but spoke anyway. “It took many hours of negotiation, but I got the van and fixed her up.” He leaned back and you watched him disappear around the passenger side. “The Turtle Tank is my true baby, but her and Shell Cycles are more team oriented vehicles.” The back door slid open and you watched Donnie through the driver side window as he climbed in. “This is for my own personal use only. As such I retrofitted the interior with a miniature lab, but I left the exterior and major components street legal.”

“The dash certainly has a spaceship vibe.” You mused, turning your window attention to said lights and knobs.

“Mostly street legal.” He corrected himself and disappeared into the very back of the van. “I would have needed to rehaul the suspension to add a monitoring system!” He raised his voice to compensate for his distance. “The frame is basically just flat steel so the weight of the tech would have overtaxed the current build!”

“But because it’s an older car it was able to survive being junked to get into your hands, right?”

“Absolutely.” The vehicle shook as Donnie shuffled back out the door and rounded to the engine once more. “As Michael described it, I trend toward the ‘shiny and new,’ but there is a slew of merits to certain older technology. The first of which, in our current case, is there’s only so many things that can be wrong…”

You nodded, having not quite followed all the checks he had done so far.

Planting one hand on either side of the engine block, Donnie huffed. “The battery isn’t dead because the lights work, I tightened the terminals so those are fine, no sign that the alternator is bad, it turns over so ignition and starter work, and no sounds indicate timing belt or distributor…” He trailed off, clicking his tongue.

“So what’s left…?”

“That’s just it.” He lifted and smacked his hands down in frustration. “With my own two hands, I put every single part in this beautiful creature. I know where they’ve all been and where they all go-"

You watched as his face froze up. You blinked rapidly, making sure your vision was still good. Everything else seemed to be fine; it was just Donnie that had gone statuesque. “Uh…” You moved to his side. “Donnie? Earth to Donnie?” He was unresponsive so you waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello?” You were just about to touch him when his left eye twitched.

“That…”

“Wha-?”

“AbsolUTE IGNORAMUS!!!!” He roared back to life and you stumbled backward. Your heel caught the sidewalk and you sputtered to keep from falling. Donnie moved in an instant, snatching both of your wrists. You would have thanked him, but the look on his face said he had not done it for you safety. “Vacuum cleaner.”

“Vacuum cleaner?” You probably looked as pale as you felt.

“I was intensely focused on building the engine block!” Releasing you, Donnie whipped around and all but flung himself back into the van. The car bounced comically until he emerged with a small tool in his hand and dove straight into the engine. “Mikey had just finished his first whittling project and Raphael offered to vacuum up the saw dust.”

“Uh huh…?” You stared, mouth slightly agape. You had no idea what he was talking about, but you could hear something pop and the sound of a little trickle of liquid.

“It’s delicate work!” Donnie growled, pieces moving out of your view. “It takes a lot of focus!!”

“You rebuilt an engine from scratch…” You could only affirm what you knew for sure.

“They know how focused I can get! Which is why-" Donnie emerged with a small cylinder in his hand. “-when I was asked if the vacuum’s new filter had come in, I just brushed it off. Anyone of them is more than capable of opening packages!” He growled and held the cylinder out for you to see. As he jostled it the top popped off. “It’s not supposed to do that!” He hissed.

“What is-?”

“I had to special order some parts because of their age.” He reached down and grasped the lid of the object. “One such item was a fuel filter.”

“Which is…” You brought a feeble finger up. “That?”

“The filter that goes into the vacuum is cylindrical also.” He pulled the top off and blackened gunk clung to the ridges of the filter inside. “But why…?” Donnie dropped to his knees and held the object out in front of him in dismay. “Why did Raph think you had to saw through metal to get to a filter?! Why did he presumably put it in the vacuum, use said vacuum, then take it BACK OUT, PUT IT BACK INTO THE METAL CASING, AND INTO THE BOX FROM WHENST IT CAME?!”

You stared in twisted awe. You had never seen Donnie both this mad or this distraught before. “P-probably because it didn’t work…?”

“It didn’t…” Donnie’s voice had dropped down low along with his head. You leaned in slight. “OF COURSE IT DIDN’T WORK, IT’S FOR A CAR!!!” He screamed at you while snapping to his feet.

Now under the direct fire of the fury, you froze.

The fear must have translated to your face because Donnie dropped out of the snarl and you watched his eyes dart around your features. He pulled back and closed a hand around the filter. “I apologize. I’m not mad at you… I just…” He hung his head and went silent.

Still coming off the frightened adrenaline rush, you shifted your shoulders. “It’s… ok…”

“No, it’s not.”

“Donnie…” Tightened restraints wrapped around your heart as you realized he was distraught in a different way now.

“I’ll order you a ride home.” With his free hand, he unearthed his phone from his hoodie’s pocket.

“Wait!” It wasn’t just your mouth for once. Your whole body moved before your mind could process it. You leapt forward and covered his phone with your hands.

“It’s probably better for you to go home. I’ll wait here with the Dream Van until an auto shop opens up and get the part.”

You might have let him get away with it if had he moved even a muscle. Instead, he continued to keep his head down, staring at your hands. “Worries was one of the things we promised to discuss, remember?”

He was quiet, but gave a single tight nod.

“You were really excited for tonight.”

Another nod.

“Do you want to ship me off and let it end like this?” You wished so badly that he would look at you,

“It’s already 9, we really weren’t ever going to make it.”

“What did you say before?” You put force down on the phone. Like a pulley system, as his hands went down and his head lifted up. “Changing subjects was admitting guilt?”

“Incorrect.” His gaze was guarded.

“Ok, I didn’t get the exact words you used…”

“No.” He shook his head. “Incorrect as in I was not admitting guilt. I don’t want the night to end like this.”

“So, you just want to ship me off?” You didn’t mean for it to sound bitter, but maybe it was just the inherent content of the sentence.

“Absolutely not!” You were taken back by his sudden sternness. “I just…” He turned his head away. “I find it hard to look at you right now because when I do I’m reminded of the face you made earlier.”

You weren’t sure what to say.

“I snapped at you and you were scared of me.” You could feel the slightest tremble of his hands through the phone. “Your easy going temperament means you’re quick to forgive, but the same can't be said about me.”

“I don’t know if I would call myself easy-going…” The notion seemed ridiculous given your ever present anxieties.

“You put up with me.” He turned and gave you a serious glance. His tone dripped with scornful sarcasm.

“Is that what you think?” You pushed his phone down all the way and stepped right into his personal space so he was forced to look at you. “I love spending time with you. Our banter, discussions, even when you just come in to pick up your weekly pizza order! Did any of that seem like I was just dealingwith your existence?”

It was a logic query that you knew he had no chance of rationalizing himself out of.

It took several moments, but the creases in his brow softened. “Emotions tend to be a grey area for me. When I feel them, I am often swept and bested.”

You tilted your head. That was familiar. “You must be joking.”

He was taken aback, but before he could protest, you continued.

“Yes, this time you got too heated, but this whole situation is beyond frustrating!” You swung your arms in a wide gesture. “It’s a very normal reaction.” He was so close you could see your reflection in his eyes. “I have never once thought of you as emotionless. You’re not heartless; you just struggle with articulating your emotions sometimes.”

He stared down at you with such intensity that you thought you might wilt under his gaze alone. Just as the speed of your heart rate was reaching critical levels, he took a step back and centered himself deep breath. “Since, and you won’t hear me often admit this because it almost never happens, but I am not in my right mind. What do you propose we do now?”

You cleared your throat to get ahold of your own emotions before looking at him ruefully. “We make the guys, specifically Raph, pick us and the Dream Van up. When we’re on our way home, explaining what happened, you should show him the part without letting on that you know what happened.”

You watched as some life was breathed back into the otherwise limp hero. “Make him stew?” Donnie craned an eyebrow up in tentative curiosity.

“Just this once I thought I’d take inspiration from someone.” You rolled on the balls of your feet while giving him occasional side eyes.

“Finally.” He rounded the van and closed the open door. You were about to follow when he hopped on top of the vehicle and looked down at you. “I was wondering when I’d rub off on you.”

You smiled up at him and he offered his hand. Curious, you took it and squeaked in surprise as he hoisted you up onto the van with him. “Is it ok to be on top of your second baby?”

“She’s reinforced.” He noted and collapsed back onto the roof. He then held his phone above his head and appeared to be typing something out.

You folded your legs up against you body and rested your chin on your knees. You listened to the soft pattering of fingers on a phone screen until there was a thump against the roof. You turned to find Donnie had let his arm collapse, phone in hand one hand and the fuel filter in the other.

“Our target will be here in T-minus 24 minutes.” He reported with his eyes drifting shut.

“When you say it like that I don’t know how long I’ll be able to play the part.” You chuckled lightly, your lids feeling a similar tug.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine.” A long swath of silence stretched out between you before Donnie broke it with a barely legible, “Thank you.”

In case that was some kind of sleepy comment not meant for your ears, you responded with a soft hum of affirmation. You thought he might have fallen asleep when another sentence slipped from him.

“This is just like when Jupiter Jim became stranded on Sectron…”

That name sounded vaguely familiar. “Jupiter Jim.” You whispered carefully. “Is that like a movie character?” You had truly meant it as a wonder for yourself.

“Yeah, you know.” He folded his phone hand over his chest. “Marcus Moncrief?”

“Huh, never seen it.”

Donnie snapped upright so fast the whole van shook.

“Par-DON!?”

You didn’t think you had ever been this tired in your whole life. The final scenes of the movie swam across your face. You tried to keep your eyes focused as Lou Jitsu tore his way through a sea of bad guys. Every time you lost focus, the image would start to blur. You squinted as suddenly the action stopped. You allowed yourself to blink for what felt like the first time in several minutes. When you opened them a snappy one-liner was quipped and then a big ‘The End’ card appeared. Sleep drunk, the room darkened as the only light source scrolled with credits.

“Did…” You own voice sounded foreign. “Did we do it?”

“Every-” Donnie’s speech seemed as affected as yours. You could hear him lick his lips, but it seemed like too much energy to turn and look at him. “Single Jupiter Jim and Lou Jitsu movie has been consumed. Congratulations. You are now caught up.”

“Hurray.” You couldn’t muster any emotion to the word. After his discovery the night of the failed museum trip, Donnie had been hyperfocused on getting you caught up on ‘all the good cinema you had missed.’ He was very lucky in several regards. The first was that it was now summer so your schedule had freed up. The second was you no longer had any summer classes to attend to with your internship on its way and, finally, that said internship did not start until the beginning of the next month. Based on Donnie incessant pestering though, you wouldn’t have lasted more than a week without succumbing to the movie marathon. In fact, you’d made it exactly three days and only had to trade one shift to squeeze the event in.

As if on cue, both of you collapsed back into the couch at the same time. When had you even started leaning forward? With only back support now squared away and lethally low energy in the tank, you body threatened to fall further. You were trying to calculate if you would hit your head on the armrest if you fell to the right when Donnie’s hand shuffled between you to unearth his phone. The simple movement bumped your shoulders and your body gave into the motion. With a soft thump, the side of your head gently plopped right onto his shoulder. You weren’t sure if it was pure exhaustion, but he didn’t seem to notice. From your new view, you could see he was now holding his phone in hand, tilted so both of you could see it. Staring at the dark screen, his thumb seemed to move in slow motion as he activated the device. It read the time and date against a glowing purple motherboard background.

“That’s…” You stared. It took so much effort to speak. “How long…?” You hoped and hoped that he understood.

“31 hours, 32 minutes, and 47 seconds…” He didn’t unlock his phone and you both watched as it went back to sleep.

“I… will never move… again…” You whined softly.

“When…” He trailed off and took a deep breath. “When do you normally go to sleep?”

That seemed like an odd question, but you couldn’t think of what a normal one would even be. “Around 2am?”

“Then we need to stay awake for 27 more minutes.”

“You’re joking!” It was so surprising that it gave you just enough energy to boost your voice.

“No.” You could see his reflection in the darkened phone screen and his face was the definition of neutral. “It’ll keep your sleep schedule on track.”

“How…?” You wanted to ask how you would stay awake, but the rest of the sentence was lost.

“I can’t... explain…” You watched his reflection close its eyes in defeat. You felt bad for mirror Donnie until it sunk in what he had said. You had to try harder, for his sake.

“No…” You shifted your head enough to just bump his. “How will we stay up… that long?”

“Oh.” His reflection’s mouth formed a perfect circle. His thumb moved again and the screen illuminated once more. He unlocked his phone and opened an internet window. It then sat there, static, with only suggested articles at the bottom.

“Donnie?” You wondered and his head flopped over atop yours.

“Thinking.” He responded weekly, his thumb hovering over the screen.

If you had a shred of your mind left, you would have screamed at your current contact. Instead you were left as a husk with no inhibitions. “I don’t think I can… make it home…”

“Sleep here.” If he meant literally right where you were on the couch, that sounded like everything good and perfect in this world. When you’d first arrived at the lair at 5pm the previous day, you’d been blown away by the short tour. His family had dropped in throughout the marathon in stages, but for the last 2 movies only you and Donnie remained.

“You say sleep…” Why were you wasting energy on this? “I say how high.” That didn’t even make sense.

“Dumb.” He responded, finally typing something into the search bar. Your eyes lost focus again. When it returned you were staring at a news feed.

“Nooo…” You whined. That was going to put you more to sleep.

“Don’t complain.” His voice was somehow flatter than usual. “You have 11 minutes and 17 seconds on me.”

“What… are you talking about?” You couldn’t see his reflection anymore in the bright screen.

“You micronapped during Punch Chowder.” He thumbed over the screen, scrolling.

“I did?” You wondered how he knew to the very second how long you were out.

“One fight sequence missed.” Another line of articles floated by.

“Did I miss… a lot?”

He shook his head and you could feel the motion as if he was settling down further into your hair. “We’ll discuss… later.”

“Many movie discuss…” You nodded also. You were really starting to lose touch with reality now that you had nothing to focus on.

“Pick one.”

“An article?” That seemed like so much work.

“16 minutes left.”

Was that an answer to your question? How had both so much and so little time passed?

With the phone balanced on Donnie’s right thigh, you managed to drag your left hand out from where it was squished between both your legs and plop it next to the device. Your index finger wobbled as you pointed at the screen and managed to flick through a few articles. A pretty picture of a starry sky caught your attention. “That one.” You pointed at the photograph while simultaneously opening the article.

“There’s a meteor shower next week…” Donnie paraphrased the headline. He then took back control of the phone and scrolled over the blur of text.

You swore an entirely different Donatello had talked about a planetarium.

“Wanna go?”

“Mm.” It was more of a hum, but it sounded like a confirmation. “Together?”

That was more concrete. “Yeah.”

“Ok.” He gave another nod and you were sure your hair was going to look like a nest. “New telescope…” There was just the tiniest dash of excitement to that. He was too cute. You wished you were more awake so you could enjoy how sleepy he was.

“It’s a date.”

His thumb stopped, but it was also at the end of the article. You watched as he moved to the back button, but hovered over it instead of clicking. Why was he hesitating?

“It’s a date.” He finally spoke after what had seemed like hours had passed.

“Think we’ll remember?” You could barely remember the last thing you said. There was a nagging feeling it was important.

Donnie made another inconspicuous noise and closed the internet browser. He then thumbed over to a calendar that was packed with dozens of multicolored notes. You had no energy to marvel at his efficiencies as he opened up a specific day next week and added a new event.

‘Meteor Shower Date’

You watched him thumb quickly through several reminders, but your eyes refused to focus enough to tell you when they were set. He closed the window and the home screen picture of both of you was marred by a atomic clock.

“Three minutes.”

“Can’t we cheat it?”

“No.”

You both fell asleep with one minute remaining.

A/N: What's the Dream Van you ask? It's a Donatello-themed Hot Wheels Toy I saw! The XGW is technically not a real car, except it is now.

So there’s like 8 Lou Jitsu movies named in Rise and in "Repo Mantis" Donnie says there’s 60 sequels to “Jupiter Jim’s Last Trip to the Moon” alone, but man there’s like only 40 Godzilla movies so… I used the number for when I did my own marathon which was watching every single episode of Ed, Edd, and Eddy in a row to the premiere of Big Picture Show so like… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#crushtoomuchfic #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #cartoons #fanfiction #my fanfiction #me

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afreakingdork · 1 year

Text

Crush Too Much - Part 6

RotTMNT Donatello x GN!Reader

Warnings: Light Angst, Fluff, Embarrassment, Overbearing Siblings, Aged-up Turtles

FIRST 💜 PREVIOUS

“You said you had roof access, didn’t you?!” The usual base volume for indoor voices was forced into shouts due to the music thumping from speakers you couldn’t quite locate.

“Ohmigosh! Take the party up to the roof?!” Your friend squealed. That isn’t exactly why you’d asked. She swayed side to side just as her mood switched from overjoyed to serious in nature. “Wait! No, we can’t do that! I’ll get in trouble and I only just got a key to put my plants up there!”

“No, no, no!” You shook your head to help enforce the point in case she couldn’t hear you. “I just want to get some air!”

"Ohhhh.” Your friend nodded as if that was the question you had asked the entire time. “One sec!” With a flourish, she wacked several people crowded around you both and disappeared. Her apartment was full to the brim. A single movement wider than a waddle meant you’d come into contact with at least three other people. A post-finals catharsis, the party had been a great start, but as the night wore on and the temperature skyrocketed, you were reaching your breaking point. With the party having spilled out into both the hall and tiny fire escape, it was sheer luck that you remembered her having raved about her newly granted amenity the week before.

Behind you, a rhythmic tap landed on your shoulder that seemed unlike the usual bustle of a large group. You turned to find your friend now behind you; the opposite direction she had departed. You would have questioned it had she not brought up the dull bronze key like the holy grail.

“Thank you!” You grinned, taking the precious item.

“Treat her right!” Your friend shouted as you wedged yourself between people in a start for the door. “Think of my plants!!!”

You felt like a cartoon character as you popped out of the funnel of people pressure cooked around the front door. In the hallway, you opted for the few flights of stairs that would take you to the roof. From there a shabby door greeted you. With only a key turn and a jiggle, the night air rushed to greet you. Welcoming it, you closed the door behind you and heaved a deep breath. Spring’s chill was losing its grip as the warmer temperatures during the day meant less severe dips at night. Making sure to tightly palm the key, you surveyed the rooftop. Besides the usual maintenance units, there was indeed a little wooden shelving unit with a few plants dotting it. You smiled at it before heading wayward to a ledge.

The twinkling city unfurled around you. Slumping down with sudden exhaustion, you folded your arms atop the ledge and leaned into it heavily. Down below, cars jockeyed for spots between traffic lights. Sandwiched in the middle, there was a Rear Window’s delight of rooms glowing with activity. Above, lay a landscape of rooftops much like the one you were currently perched. You let the calm of the moment fill you. This was exactly what you needed.

The lull of the moment tugged at your eye lids and you would have closed them had there not been a flash of orange light in your periphery. A small noise of confusion sounded in your throat and you turned to where it had just been. Dark rooftops greeted you. Deciding it must have been a trick of the light, you continued to stare out at the spot as there was no other pull for your attention. It was there, a pop of blue appeared for less than a second at the height of a parabolic arc between two rooves. Dumbfounded, you pushed away from the ledge and took a few tentative steps in that direction. A flicker of red blinked next, following the same path.

If you had blinked you would have missed it so you rushed as far as your roof would take you. The color pattern was unmistakable, but it was missing one. You’d known the statistics for something like this since your impromptu coffee meet up with Donnie last year. It was completely improbable, but if it was the turtles, they were busy with a job tonight. Remembering how you knew such a fact, your hand skirted down to the phone in your pocket. Before you were unable to unearth the device, however, the high pitched buzz of propellers hummed from where you had just been. Your heartbeat thudded loudly in your ears as you spun around.

“Salutations and good evening, citizen!” Donnie exclaimed from where he was hovering. His arms were outstretched in a pose as if he was addressing a large crowd.

“Omigosh!” You played along. “Could it be?!”

“Yes, it is I! Your humble protector!” He swept one hand down in a dignified bow.

“What a honor.” You laughed and made quick work returning to your original post. It may have been the cocktail of endorphins from the evening’s events or just the high of seeing him out of the blue, but you used the energy to hike a foot up onto the ledge. Then, with the continued momentum, you held a hand as far out to him as you could manage; as one would helping a lady down from a tall carriage. With his goggles down, you couldn’t read Donnie’s expression. A moment of silence passed between you and embarrassment settled in where adrenaline began to trickle out. He’d been flying for years and there was no way he’d have an issue landing. Plus, you had no idea if this was nothing more than a passing hello. Your fingers twitched as you were about to retract the offer when his hand slipped into yours.

The world became so bright as if the sun was making its entrance hours in advance. Your foot pushed off the ledge and he followed the movement dropping down onto it and deactivating his rotors. Taking another step back, you led him down to equal footing and he gave another grand bow. You released his hand and gave him a small round of applause.

“Why, thank you.” He folded his arms and evaluated you. “How’s the party?”

“Hot.” You mimed fanning your collar. “How’s the mission?”

“We tracked the Foot to an ice cream parlor where, you guessed it…” He built up suspense with a raised finger. “They were getting ice cream.” He let his arm collapse and gave a deadpan expression.

“Evil incarnate, indeed.” The two of you shared a look and then laughed. You had known each other a little more than half a year and in that time it felt like your rapport lasted a lifetime. Your affections for him had only grown, but your current bond was so satisfying that it didn’t feel as though it need to be addressed. Taking his hand had been a bold move on your part, but he hadn’t shunned you away. It was enough food, so to speak, to keep you fed for at least a month. “I think I saw the others too.” You pointed to where you had seen the partial rainbow.

Donnie reached up and raised his goggles to look. “That’s where I spotted you from. Good eye.”

“I didn’t see you though…” You tried to resist the pout, but it settled into your lips anyways.

“Let’s just say I was leading the pack.” He tapped one of the shoulder straps of his battle shell and you nodded knowingly.

“I liked your entrance.” You chuckled.

“I always thought I’d crush a good stage.” He closed his eyes, imagining the scene.

“I can see the marquee now…”

“My name in lights!” He pointed a finger toward the sky.

“You going straight to Broadway or off?”

“I’d have to start small. The world isn’t prepared for me to unleash my full potential.”

“It would just be a side project next to those Nobel prizes.” You rolled your eyes, maybe you were feeding his ego a bit too much.

“Absolutely. There is no way I could forget my one true love!” He swooned. “Science!”

“She is a fickle mistress though.”

“That’s what makes her more alluring.”

“There you are, D!” You jumped as a voice came from behind you.

“Michael, you are interrupting a very important discussion about my theater career.”

You turned to face Mikey and resisted the urge to stare. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t spoken to the youngest sibling. He had intercepted a few video chats with Donnie before, but it was your first time meeting him in person.

“Whoopsie!” Mikey clucked before catching a glimpse of you and gasping. “Y/N!”

“Hi.” You gave a half wave that was intercepted when he plucked your hand out of the air and started shaking it.

“Nice to finally meet you in the flesh!” The orange hero bobbed.

“Same.” The sentence warbled out of you with the force.

“Interrupting!” Donnie raised his voice as an mechanical arm came out of his battle shell and tapped his brother on the forehead.

On contact, your hand was freed and you watched the silver appendage return to its purple casing in awe. It was another thing you had yet to see in person.

“You just disappeared though.” Mikey pointed at Donnie. “Of course we were going to look for you.”

“It was just a short detour, if it was anything more than you would have been notified.” Donnie turned his head away in mild irritation.

“Aw, it’s ok. Say no more, oh bro-there!” Mikey’s outstretched digit turned to you and fired off a snapped into a finger gun. “I see exactly what’s happened!” He punctuated the sentence further by sending you a wink.

It suddenly made a lot more sense why Donnie hadn’t laughed when you’d done something similar before.

“No.” Donnie stared dryly. “I don’t think you do.”

“There you two are!” A hulking figure in a red mask dropped down between Donnie and Mikey. Your jaw dropped as he straightened to his full height. It was the third in person quick time event of the evening and video had not done Raph any justice. He also hadn’t directly interrupted chats like Mikey had, so the distance in a digital frame added to the reveal. “What are you guys doing?! I already stopped some thieves and dropped them off in front of the closest police station!”

“Raphie, look! It’s Y/N!” Mikey pointed to you repeatedly.

“That’s really not necessa-“ You raised your hands to stop the ongoing introductions.

“Oh, nice to final-"

“Nope!” Donnie announced, four mechanical arms sprouting from his back. “Michelangelo. Raphael. Y/N.” An arm pointed to each of you in time. “There, everyone has already spoken and these pleasantries are a waste of time!”

“Donnie!” Raph barked. “Don’t be rude!” The red hero turned to address you. “You’re probably already aware of how my brother can be, but I am de-lighted to make your acquaintance for real.”

“Me too.” You covered the side of your mouth to shield the reveal from Donnie who rolled his eyes. Stifling a laugh, you lowered you hand. “I didn’t mean to keep anyone.”

“You weren’t!” Donnie shouted. “Don’t pander to them!”

“I’m not!” You pursed your lips. “You're the one who ditched!”

“How many crooks were there?” Mikey turned his attention up to Raph.

“Three!” Raph puffed out his chest proudly.

“Alright!” A commanding fifth voice rose above the two conversations. “Are you having a party without yours truly!?” You all turned to find Leo looming in a power pose on the closest ledge.

“Does it look like-”

“No way!”

“As if you’d be invited.”

“Well….”

Leo gave you specifically the stink eye.

“What?!” You looked between him and Donnie who was also side eyeing you, but in a more amused fashion.

“Wait.” Leo dropped the leader-like façade and pointed a blade at you. “Are you serious right now?”

You balked at the tip for only a moment before Raph placed his body between you and the weapon. Fluidly, he threw a hand back and gently nudged you towards Donnie. “Leo!” He scowled and turned to check on you. “You ok? I swear we’re usually not this childish.”

“That’s a blatant lie.” Donnie griped before taking a noticeable step back. He gave you a look when doing so that telegraphed to follow his lead so you did.

“You’re already tall enough so why not get off that high horse?” Leo grumbled, hopping off the ledge. “It’s a simple question.” Leo’s gaze ripped through the gallery and honed in on you.

“Am I technically at a party? Yes. Were you invited? No, but you don’t know the host.” You shrugged. You were never sure how to handle Leo, but this current version of him was something else. He was usually carefree and cocky to a fault, but this was also the first time you’d seen him amongst his brothers. There were small facets of him still the same, but he was a long shot from the Leo you attended events with.

“Right.” There was a venom to the single word that popped out of Leo’s mouth. You could almost see the overlay of him at the last event you’d attended about 3 weeks prior; he had a smile on his face as you were both served a tasting menu for a new upscale restaurant.

You were about to open your mouth to question it when Donnie interceded. “Don’t bother.” The purple hero had his phone out and was scrolling.

“Well, this has all been fun and good, but I got a lead on some mystic shenanigans.” Sheathing his weapon, Leo turned to address Mikey. “Where’d we officially land with the Foot?”

“They were having ice cream as a team building exercise and party for foot soldier number 12.” Mikey saluted and then smiled. “It was his birthday.”

Beside you, Donnie waved his phone covertly to get your attention.

“Raph, how’d it go with the bank?”

You looked at the purple hero curiously and found his front-facing camera was on.

“Three guys were trying to bust open an ATM. I knocked them out in one go and dropped them off for the cops.” Raph nodded triumphantly.

Donnie gave you a questioning look and you bobbed with an excited nod. His need to document was something you delighted in. It meant you had a slew of pictures of the two of you together to peruse at any given moment.

“And no one saw you?” Leo folded his arms.

Donnie leaned in close and brought the camera up. You swallowed any excitement and shot a peace sign while he pursed his lips.

“No way.” Raph waved the sentiment off like it was nothing. “It’s not like they were trying to steal from it with people around.”

The soft click of the shutter went off a few times and Donnie shared his phone to review the photos with you.

“Ah.” You reached up and smoothed your hair. “How does hair get so messed up when you’re just out there existing?”

“I know what you mean.” Mikey was suddenly next to you causing your second jump scare at his hands. “I have a wig for One Love, my wrestling persona, and it’s like I have to style it every hour or so!”

“It doesn’t look like anything’s out of place.” One of Donnie’s mechanical arms popped out and offered you a compact mirror.

“It’s right there in the picture.” You gave him a thankful smile regardless and he held the mirror up while you fixed your hair. “I’ve heard taking care of a wig can be tough.”

“It’s all about care, baby!” Mikey put a confident finger to his chin. “You have to be careful with the fibers in whatever you’re doing from brushing, to washing, to styling…” He trailed off and grinned. “You do all that right and she’ll treat you the same.” He followed it up with a catwalk-type pose and you giggled.

“Ok, I think I got it…” You trailed off looking side to side at your mini reflection.

“Once more then.” Donnie held up his phone and the two of you got a few more photos together before letting Mikey in for his own set. Bringing his phone back down, you watched Donnie swipe back and forth between the last before and first after hair photo. “I see… When they’re side by side your coiffure was indeed messed.”

“I told you!”

“I'm sorry, are you seriously taking selfies while I’m doing status debriefs?!” Leo forced the words out of a huge faked smile. He pushed past Raph and smacked the mechanical arm still holding the mirror out of the air.

“Touch my tech again, I dare you.” Donnie seethed, baring his own teeth.

It really seemed like a fight was about to break out. You watched Raph wipe an exasperated hand down his face while Mikey weakly tried to interject between the two. You looked around rapidly for an idea to break the tension.

“Mikey!” You shouted, everyone turning to look at you.

“Yes?” The orange hero responded with melodic sweetness.

“Did you say wrestling persona? What’s up with that?!” You all but quacked it out, but the stunned silence that followed seemed to at least buy time.

Stars shined in Mikey’s eyes. “It’s been way to long, but we all have one! Raph’s the biggest wrestlehead amongst us though!”

“Aw, I don’t know about that…” Raph scratched at his chin sheepishly.

“Don’t be like that Red Reign!” Mikey flexed his muscles and then got right between Leo and Donnie. “And here we have the one-time champ Primetime and the backstabbing Dynamite Don!”

“Excuse you?!” Donnie reeled like he’d been slapped. The move put several more steps between him and the blue hero.

“Hey, you are what you do!” Mikey shrugged with his eyes closed like it was a fact, but one lid lifted like he knew what he was doing.

You could take a cue from that. “Primetime?” You tittered, hiding your snarky smile behind a hand.

Donnie had his phone out and was scrolling furiously.

“I had way better names lined up but the announcer, who-" He shot a quick glare at Mikey. “-was the real turncoat-!” His gaze snapped back to you. “-shot them all down!”

“He says even though he got to choose this outfit.” Donnie materialized by your side with his phone screen on display. It held an image of all four brothers in their wrestling outfits.

“What was wrong with my outfit!?” Leo all but screeched.

“Those aren’t shoulder pads, Donnie. Those are shoulder mountains.” You were glad you hand was still up because now you were really stifling laughter.

“Har-har.” Donnie responded dryly. “They contained missiles so jokes on you.”

“The sideways cap was a bit of a dated choice…” Mikey sympathized by putting a hand on Leo’s shoulder.

“Alright, enough of these distractions.” He glared you down before turning, stepping back up onto the ledge, and staring out over the city. His serious tone quieted the group. “Does anyone remember what I said earlier?”

“You want to be invited to a party?” Mikey wondered.

“You got a mystic tip.” Raph shook his head and stated it like it was the most obvious fact in the world.

Donnie leaned in right to your ear and cupped a hand to shield his mouth from view before whispering. “Hey, one final dig at Nardo for the road?” His hot breath against the side of your neck made every microscopic hair stand up.

Leo still had his back to the bunch, but you could tell her was about to turn so you pivoted and mimicked Donnie’s ear move back to him. “As long as you promise not to get into a real fight.”

You traded places once again and Leo began his rotation. “The most I can agree to is not starting the physical altercation myself. The two of us have been fighting like this for years, but one would be remiss not to notice how he was gunning for you. That alone means he deserves it.” The fact that he was doing this for your honor made you want to drop to his feet and confess your misgivings. Guilt crept in because while you’d hadn’t been coy about knowing Leo, it suddenly occurred to you that you hadn’t told Donnie about all the events you attended with his brother.

“Care to share with the class?” Leo whipped both his swords out in annoyance.

With Leo now playing into Donnie’s hands, you had no time to confess. Keeping pace, you leaned in for what you presumed to be the final time. “Why thank you, Mr. Humble Protector.” You couldn’t help but blow out a little extra steam as you pulled away. There was no visual effect on Donnie.

Instead the purple hero faked a snicker and gave Leo his best innocent Mikey impersonation. “Whatever do you mean, brother dear?”

“Oh…” Leo was fuming. “Oh! You’re in for it now, you-!”

The door to the roof suddenly burst open like it had been kicked. “Y/N!”

The boy’s vanished and you gaped now alone on the roof.

You friend from earlier strolled out and looked around. “What are you still doing up here?”

“I-I was about to come back down!” You spoke a little too fast as you glimpsed the reflections off the turtle’s eyes. They were all variously perched around the door in the shadows. “Just cooling off, you know!” You waved a dismissive hand at her.

She leaned into your personal space and examined you a narrowed gaze. “Hmmm, yeah?”

“Yep! Let’s go back inside!” You reached out to lead her.

She snapped upright and slammed one first into the open palm of her other hand. “Oh, I know what’s up!”

“I doubt-“ You tried to intercept.

She was dripping with wicked intent. “I bet you were on the phone! Talking to that boooooyyy you lik-“

“Noooooooooooooooooooo!!” You started the syllable and held it in a monotonous note as you spun her around and pushed her all the way back into the building. You caught Donnie giving you a half wave just before you disappeared out of sight. You didn’t stop the sound until you heard the door click shut behind you.

“Ok! Ok!” She batted you away. “I get it! Sensitive subject!” She brushed herself off. “Just lock the door and let’s get back to it!” She did a little dance and you sighed, wishing you didn’t have to skirt so many crisis at one time.

“So then I says to the guy, ‘what, you mean these apples?!’” Leo held out his hand as if he were palming the poignant fruit and the crowd around him went wild. You had to hand it to him; the schmoozing you’d first recommended when you brokered your deal with him had really taken off. The two of you were currently attending a rooftop soiree held by a prominent art buyer who had taken quite a shine to the blue hero. It wasn’t just her, because the crowd seemed to move and form an impenetrable bubble around Leo wherever he went. If it wasn’t for him making sure you didn’t get squeezed out, you would have surely lost sight of him completely. “Alright, alright!” He chuckled, raising his hands for a timeout. “My next set is in ten so don’t go anywhere!” He spun around and hooked your arm in one smooth motion. Behind you the gaggle of wealthy tittered excitedly.

“Thirsty?” You asked, falling in line as your headed towards one of several servers.

“Parched!” He snatched two flutes and passed you one before taking a long sip of his own. He flourished under the attention. It was a stark contrast to his behavior on the roof just a few weeks ago. The evening was something he seemed to neither care to or have the time to address in favor of rubbing elbows.

You delicately sampled the effervescent liquid. It was far tangier than you’d expected. “That’s some kind of citrus…” You hummed, trying to place it.

“Sure.” Leo shrugged absentminedly. He fidgeted with his glass in a way that seemed antsy. You wondered if it was ever about the drinks at all.

“You ok?” You wondered, swirling your drink.

“Yes.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “No.” He sighed. “I've been dreaming of a night like this-” He threw his hands up and gestured to the decked out event space with a twirl. “-for months, but then something else came up and now I can’t enjoy it like I should!” The resentment steeped in his words was pretty pointed.

“The rooftop, I assume?” You much preferred how Donnie would just pose his questions and not give you the theatrical run around as his brother did.

“I’m just so upset I wasn’t invited to that party.” Leo steeped his sentence in sarcasm.

“Then what else happened that night? You sort of just appeared annoyed!” You pleaded with your eyes.

His brows scrunched and his lips parted when another voice spoke.

“Oh, there you are, Leon!” The elderly host approached with gracious airs.

Leo switched to full schmooze and gave a bow while taking her hand. “You look ravishing as ever. Is that a new tennis bracelet? Don’t tell me your husband forgot the reservation plans again?”

The woman was as fizzy as your drink. “So perceptive! I can tell you all about it, but I’ve been hearing mention of apples and I knew it must be one of your delightful stories.”

“Guilty as charged!” Leo adjusted his tie with a saccharine grin.

“Shall we?” The host looked across from Leo to you.

“Actually…” Leo leaned forward, blocking the sight line before you could respond. “You know I would never think of turning down an invitation to gossip with you, but my date and I needed to work out our plans after this and you know how the reservations are at Per Se!” Leo squabbled up toward the end of his fib with all the grace of a charmless man, but the host seemed none the wiser.

“Of course, they can be so finicky and can you imagine if you were forced to walk-in at the saloon?” She seemed as though she might faint at the thought. “You darlings head down towards the bar and hook around it. That’s where the caterers are working out of the second kitchen. Drop my name if they give you any guff, but straight through there is an intimate private dining room with a look out over the city.”

The opulence of it all was outrageous.

“Thank you and I promise I won’t keep you in suspense too long!” They exchanged cheek kisses without getting anymore than a foot near one another. A server offered to take your empty drink just as Leo turned and grabbed your hand. He rushed to follow the directions and you couldn’t help but compare the feeling to lower Donnie onto the roof. The hands had a similar shape, but not a single familar spark.

No one in the kitchen seemed to mind your intrusion and as you exited another set of double doors, you stepped out into a small, dimly lit room. There was a single white clothed table pressed up against a stunning view. You drifted out of Leo’s grip to stare out in awe.

“This is absurd…” You turned back to commiserate, but instead found Leo one step away from falling over. “Woah, hey!” You stepped forward, but he averted you in favor of lurching toward the table and taking a seat.

“It’s fun and I can do it all day, but it takes its toll.” He shook his head and already seemed to be on the mend.

“I can see that…” You tapered off and took the seat opposite him. He seemed like he needed another minute so you turned and appreciated the view more. A calm settled in as only the distant sounds of the caterers could be heard.

“The prince charming routine was cute, I guess.” Leo suddenly spoke well after you’d forgotten you were waiting for him in the first place.

“Hm?” You turned to him, the words not really making sense.

“Him taking your hand was more surprising though.” He anchored an elbow to the table and dropped his chin against his fist.

“What are you-?” You stopped. There was only one of hand you had held that he could be referring to. “Were… were you watching us?”

“We were all following Donnie and then suddenly he wasn’t in front of us anymore.” Leo responded matter-of-factly. “It didn’t have the usual trademarks of emergency landing so, I broke off from the group to see what was up.”

“But that means you were watching from the very beginning.” Mercury levels were rising in your blood as you felt scandalized.

“How do you think I felt?” Leo stuck his tongue out at the thought.

“And when Mikey came?” Your hands came down to the table with a bit too much force. “Raph!?”

“To which you all immediately got off track and I had to pull rank as leader to wrangle everyone back in!” You couldn’t believe Leo was still painting himself the victim.

“So you’re upset I distracted them?”

“No!” Leo grouched and tipped back in his chair while pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s none of those things. Here, I’ll clear the board for you. It’s not that you went to a party without me, which for the record, is your loss. It’s not that your existence lured Donnie away. It’s not that you distracted the guys. It’s not the stupid little whispering joke you and D shared. It’s not the selfies. It’s not the smiles. It’s none of that!” His chair snapped forward and he banged the table.

His sudden flare of emotional quelled yours. “Then what’s wrong?”

As if deprived oxygen, Leo’s flame shrank before snuffing out. “You haven’t made a move.”

Your brows knit and your head jerked back. “What?” You were already clueless, but that statement had come from a further left field then you'd imagined.

“How do I put this?” He ran a hand over his head like he was combing through locks. “Watching the two of you was sickly in a sweet way.” He huffed and brought his hands down to the table like he was bargaining. “Don Tron yapping and tapping to his screens is one thing, but seeing him split off from a mission, though yeah sure it was a bust, was something else.”

With all the heat rushing to your head you would have thought it was properly summer. “Woah there…” Why hadn’t you grabbed another drink for the road? “I thought you weren’t going to interfere?”

“Ugh, I’m not!” Leo dropped his head down to the table before popping right back up. “Ok, let’s reframe.” He made a square with both his hands and looked through it at you. “Oh, look! What’s that? It’s two dummies sucking up all the good oxygen and making goo-goo eyes at each other! And, oh gosh, you’re going to want to see this?” He turned the hand cam on its side as if he was capturing another angle. “We have the real hero of the story-” He broke character and looked above the frame to whisper. “That’s me.” Then he went right back to his previous action. “-having to choke on their excess fumes because he’s the only one in the whole world that has the perspective to know how one of them really feels about the other.” He dropped the shtick and stared at your expectantly. “Get it now?”

You stared at him for a moment before dropping your gaze down to the tablecloth. “You’re…” You chanced looking at him once more. “…talking about me?”

“Yes! Obviously!” Leo threw his hands out as if his star monologue had finally be acknowledged. “Donnie’s feelings are…” Leo flipped his hand back and forth. “Murky, at best? And annoying at most. I’m invested in his well being. You’ve proven to me that you’ve got that handled. So, with my brother squared away that leaves you.”

You shook your head indignantly. “You’re saying that you’ve been made at me for the last three weeks, because of me?”

“Eh, you lost some the great nuisance I just explained, but it’s hard to capture my exquisite flavor of language.” He flicked his head with his chin held high. “I’m saying my partner in crime of whom I’ve become fond of and am rooting for is starting to tick me off because they are harboring quite the loaded stick of dynamite feelings and just snuffing them out.”

You jerked your head away at the mention of emotion. The blue hero was ever the stickler for forcing you to confront your feelings. “That’s not how I’d put it.”

“Is it still just ‘like?’” He smashed a single digit into the table as if he were interrogating a criminal.

There was no way to hide the guilt that painted your entire body.

Leo held his hands up to stop you from making a move. “You don’t have to say it. In fact, I would prefer you didn’t!”

Instead of wishing for a drink, you now craved an entire bucket of ice water to dunk your head in. It probably wasn’t the strangest thing the caterers had been asked for. “I’m getting some crazy mixed signals.”

“Ex-act-ly!!!!” Leo shouted, pushing off the table so violently that his chair tipped over. You scrambled to your feet and watched as instead of spilling out, the ninja did a backwards somersault out of the motion and rushed back towards the table. “That is why I’ve been just torn to shreds about it.” He clutched a fistful of his jacket in demonstration.

“You were mad at me!” The force of the exclamation would have taken you to your feet if you weren’t already standing.

“There you got getting picky about phrasing again, Y/N.” He took a deep breath and grabbed the table, hunching over. “One last time, I’ll lay it out plainly for you. I just want my cohort to be happy. I thought you were, but then I saw you have a real, authentic interaction with-“ He bit his tongue and whimpered. Shaking off the pain, he continued with a mild wince. “-with the person you care about and I could just see how you were holding back which means you’ve been holding back all this time and I hate that for you.”

You softened and withered back down into your seat.

“And I don’t want to her that blah-blah-I’m-happy-as-long-as-we’re-friends line!” He brought one hand up and pointed it straight until it just barely touched the tip of your nose. “That’s fine and well, but you know what’s better? Actually being just friends!” Leo pushed off the table and took his time setting his chair back up. “Which is where it gets complicated for me…”

You nodded for him to go on, unsure if you could even offer anything to this speech.

“Because I don’t want you to force it and I don’t want you to just ‘ask him out’ or however kids do it these days!” He alternated between touching fingers to his forehead and throwing out his hand with each statement. “I don’t want you to confess to just do it. It should be special! I just…” He trailed off and even though he’d been struggling to put his emotions into words this whole time, he finally looked truly defeated. “I want what’s best for both of you and I want you to both be happy and it feels so close, but there’s nothing I can personally do anymore to help make that happen.” He slumped with such force the chair creaked with protest under his weight.

It had been long winded and a little dicey at times, but that was the very heart of the matter. Your eyes began to water and you closed them to prevent any leakage. “I’m torn between saying I’m sorry and thank you…” You gave a dry chuckle. You didn’t feel like you deserved to be exhausted like he was, but you certainly felt like you could crawl into bed.

“Right back at you!” One of Leo’s hands shot up in a wobbly point towards the ceiling before his arm collapsed back down on the table.

“How are you ever going to get back to retelling that apple story?” The mood had relaxed enough that you felt comfortable resting your head upon your folded arms as a means to drop down to Leo’s current level on the table.

“Ugh, the apples!” He groaned, drawing a lazy circle on tablecloth. “Let’s ditch and say we need ice cream, per se.”

“What even is that?” You chuckled dryly.

Leo didn’t have enough energy for a theatrical gasp so he flicked your arm. “It’s a bougie restaurant that we’re trying to get Mikey into for his birthday.”

The statement brought your head up. “Is that the real reason why you’ve been schmoozing so hard?!” Your voice raised with excitement as the sentence went on.

“No!” Leo barked, but then groaned. “Fiiiiine. Crashing galleries is way more fun, but having these contacts can get that commis chef into places he deserves to eat.”

“Look at this soft, mushy Leon under all that shiny veneer!” You faked gushing and he followed it up with a gag.

“I’m still me! If you out me, I’ll out you!” You could see right through him now, so the tinges of fear were obvious.

“You really wouldn’t.” You remarked fondly. He rolled his eyes. “And you should know, I wouldn’t either.”

“Yeah, yeah, this was fun and all, but let’s promise never to do this again, ok? Bye!” He waved you off, but did not move an inch from his position against the table.

You settled back into your arm pillow and let the silence pour in around you both. “Let’s say…” Your mouth seemed to start of its own accord. “… that I’m not going to take your advice. I’m not going to do what you say, but hypothetically…”

“Hypothetically.” Leo agreed.

“If I were to ask you what you think the next step was, what would you say?” Your lids lifted and looked across the table at an expectant Leo. “Out of only curiosity.”

“Hm! Quite the fake scenario you've come up with.” He hummed and the question seemed to give him just enough energy to sit up. “All of this under the table, nothing leaving the room, with no actual thought put into it, I would say you should ask the smart idiot on a real date, not dating, but just a single solitary, 'let’s actually do what all the couples in the movie’s do,' date date.” He smoothed out the creases that had formed in his jacket from all the dramatics. “Just feel it out for real without holding back for once.”

You hummed in agreement and took to your feet with great care to push your chair in. “I like your very fake and not something I would ever do, probably, scenario.”

“Great, that’s what I hoped you would say. You know I spent exactly 15 seconds coming up with it?” He turned in his chair, but couldn’t quite get his legs underneath him.

“That long?” You played up astonished wonder and held out your arm for him to take.

He hooked his appendage through yours and with only minor trembling, got upright. “I’m already aiming to beat my record.”

You chuckled and lead the way back to the kitchen. “Now, all that phony stuff aside, let’s make that ice cream a reality?”

“Wooo! Ice cream black tie style?” With his freehand he snapped a lapel. “Now that’s a Leo-approved type of evening!”

A/N: I just want the record to state that I know current Donnie has 3 battle shells that all have specific tech, but let’s just say future-Don has figured out how to pack all three into one!

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afreakingdork · 1 year

Text

Crush Too Much - Part 10

RotTMNT Donatello x GN!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Embarrassment, Overbearing Siblings, Aged-up Turtles

FIRST 💜 PREVIOUS

Brooding wasn’t the right word for it. Donatello preferred to think of himself as in a tactical retreat for the sake of lucidity. He’d already thrown himself into his work for three days. Why not make it six? With dimmed pride he recalled how he’d been able to dodge his seemingly ever-present brothers’ questions. They were worried about his wellbeing for whatever reason. On one hand, it was touching. On the other, it was tiresome. He had calculated out the bare minimum amount of calories required to sustain himself which quelled Mikey. Though forced, he slept the base quota necessary to keep Raph calm. As for his fourth brother, he refused to pander at all.

He could acknowledge his relationship with Leonardo was the most antagonistic of the bunch. They both knew how they cared for one another, but they also understood each other’s boundaries and how to push them in a way that the other two didn’t seem to comprehend. They acted like it was cruel. Pausing the soldering he was doing, Donatello grimaced. Cruel was now a word that rubbed him the wrong way. It brought up things he only allowed himself to categorize during feigned slumber. It was an equation solved in the blackboard of his mind. No matter how many times he reviewed it, it was the resolved. The question of what he was going to do about it was not one he cared to consider at this time. These unfathomable dilemmas were often relegated for so long that they seemingly solved themselves. Revenge was something to plot, tribulation was not.

The mental review was tenuous enough so Donatello set his tools down. As if on cue, an alert popped up on a nearby monitor. Looking over at it, he found that it was time for his scheduled ration appearance. Pushing back from his chair, he took a long moment to compartmentalize all the disagreeable sensations that had cropped up. With them squared away he opened the door to his lab. He made it an estimated 6 feet away when he heard a voice.

“Oh no, he is NOT going to get away with it for another day!”

Stomach dropping fear was something he only felt in the face of tangible bodily harm. He’d looked Shredder in the face. He’d looked Krang in the face. The sensation that passed over him was something he’d relegate into the 'loathing' category. It didn’t quite fit, but there wasn’t a better facsimile. He’d turn, as if he had to perform the act, but he knew for a fact he’d never make it back to the lab. Finally executing the motion, a blue portal appeared. He steeled himself as the final nanoseconds ticked by.

Leonardo stepped out of it with a scowl on his face. “Hey there, Don. Long time no see.”

Even though his calculations were sound, Donatello still flicked his eyes past Leonardo to the entrance to his lab.

“Nuh-uh, don’t even think about it.” With his sword already drawn from the portal, Leonardo held it out to further block an escape.

He could work with that. Giving Leonardo a flat glance, Donatello turned and headed towards his intended destination: the kitchen.

“Are you kidding me?!” Leonardo hissed.

“I told you it wouldn’t work!” Mikey called out from across the lair.

Approximating his voice set the location identical to Donatello’s target. Having a party to his eating meant a longer reprieval time; he could work with that.

“Not helping!” Leonardo called back before a telltale metallic swish followed.

Donatello deviated his path a foot to the left and a portal appeared right where he previously would have been. Leonardo appeared and, out of the corner of Donatello’s periphery, he could tell his brother momentarily fumbled with his target not in sight.

If he wasn’t having to suppress the full spectrum of emotions, he might have allowed himself to bask in the success.

“Fine.” Leonardo ground out, spinning around to follow. “We’ll do this the old fashioned way.”

Donatello continued his trek to the kitchen. He’d ignore his brother for as long as it took for him to lose interest.

“Don, Don, Don, Donnie, Don, Don-bon, Donnie-" Leonardo continued to drone on, his feet centimeters from stepping on his brother’s heels.

It was almost disappointing that his brother had deployed repetition as his first tactic. They had a lifetime of shared experiences and yet he picked a way to annoy him that’d he’d been using since they were five.

The sound yammered on as they both entered the kitchen. Giving small glances and solitary nods to his two other brothers, Donatello regarded the spread on the table. Mikey seemed to be heading something so Donatello approached him.

“Why hello there, stranger!” Mikey gave a salutary wave.

While all three brothers were usually pretty good at dealing with his non-verbal states, Mikey was the best at it. He’d often be so compelled to fill silence with his own voice that he’d unconsciously make up for any lacking on Donatello’s part. Folding his arms, he signaled that he was curious about the laid out food.

“We’re making sandwiches!” Mikey chirped in a sing-song voice. “I took the liberty to make yours.” He shifted side to side as if he were shy. “I hope you like it!”

Clapping a hand on Mikey’s shoulder as a sign of appreciate, Donatello turned and opened the fridge. There was a wrapped sandwich on a plate with a trademark smiley face card propped on top of it. It didn’t hurt less, but there was something comforting about the care taken. As he retrieved the food, he could hear Mikey start to list the ingredients, but nothing past ‘emerald greens’ could be heard as Leonardo turned up the volume.

“Knock it off, it’s obviously not working!” Raph griped as he spread something on a slice of bread.

“Why am I the only one who seems to notice there’s a problem here!?” Leonardo broke his mantra so slam his hands down onto the countertop. Several plates clattered and brought pause to everyone in the room.

Donatello never thought he’d feel so much relief from not hearing his name. He would have relished in the silence longer had the eyes in the room not flashed from Leonardo and then back to him. This was the exact kind of attention he’d gone out of his way to avoid.

Mikey was the first to break the peace with a drawn out shrugging of his shoulders and a noncommittal whine.

“He’s sulking! Look at him!” Leonardo threw his arms out to reinforce his point.

Donatello straightened slightly and regarded the other two with his ever calculated neutral expression. He’d practiced it for years; there was no way they’d glean a thing.

“He’s been busy working on something.” Raph shrugged and returned to sandwich construction.

“Yeah, it’s not really anything new.” Mikey added, observing.

“Not anything-!” Leonardo smacked a palm to his face.

Donatello began to remove the plastic wrap from his plate. He had started a countdown of how long his presence was necessary before he could slip away without further incident. If Leonardo kept up his fight any longer, Raph was sure to intercept.

“He hasn’t been on a mission in six days!” Leonardo dragged the hand down his face and flicked it at the offender.

Donatello paused and brought his attention back to the gallery. That point might cause some contention. He needed to be prepared.

“Almost a week is a pretty long time…” After depositing his bread, Raph craned an arm behind his head and scratched.

“Has my remote attendance not been satisfactory?” Donatello despised that he’d been forced to speak. The words felt thick in his throat. When was the last time he had spoken aloud?

“The TELLO-bot did locate those bombs faster than us…” Mikey offered, but there was a hitch in his tone that said he wasn’t as content as his statement.

“It’s not the same as having you there, D.” Raph added, giving a restrained look.

“I see…” Donatello spoke again. The timer was inching closer to zero. He had to evacuate soon. “I will take your notes into account.” He turned to depart when Leonardo slid in front of him.

“Hold it right there!”

Donatello wanted to continue to avoid eye contact, but there was something in Leonardo’s face that held his attention.

“Look, you know I hate pulling rank as leader-"

“You really don’t.” Raph chimed in, swinging his knife in a long swoop that caused Mikey to duck.

Leonardo’s eye twitched but he continued. “Attendance is mandatory. You’re coming tonight and that’s final.”

The air shifted and it was unmistakable aura of a standoff. Donatello’s mental clock ran out, but he was now trapped in the official staring contest with the brother he’d most wanted to avoid. Prolonged exposure to Leonardo’s face forced open every compartment he’d carefully packed away the last few days. Images of his brother pouring over you assaulted Donatello’s mind. A bile clawed up his throat that was far worse in comparison to speaking. Backed into a corner, the first retaliation he could come up with was a petty one. He wasn’t proud of it, but it felt like all he had.

“Make me.” He steeped the command with all the venom he’d been holding back. The sound of it must have been more lethal that he intended because Leonardo jolted at the sound. Using the lapse in his resolve, Donatello ducked past his brother in a swift bob. Unfortunately, his brother had the same years of training under his belt and was able to partially counter. Trading places, the plate dropped to the floor with a loud crash as it split away.

“Noooo!!!” Mikey cried out, pointing to the lost sandwich like a fallen comrade.

“Guys!” Raph barked, starting his move to pick up the broken ceramics.

“Uh, I’m sorry.” Leo pretended to stick a finger in his ear and flick away phoney blockage. “Ha. Yeah, that must be my hearing because it almost sounded like you just challenged me?” Stepping into Donatello’s personal space, Leonardo scowled.

Unable to research the expression fully, Donatello caught a glimpse of that strange secondary emotion in Leonardo’s otherwise set features. If there weren’t a hundred other things demanding his attention, he might have asked. Instead, he was faced with a challenge. His escape window had long disappeared, but a new timer had begun in its place; he needed to get out before his carefully constructed veneer split. Already stretched thin, Donatello hadn’t considered that his mental armor had a breaking point. It was unfamiliar and unwelcome territory.

“Nardo, enough.” Donatello refused to swallow the nervous knot forming in his throat. He abhorred ignoring the call to arms, but he had little choice in the matter now.

“No.” Leonardo brought his voice down. “Let’s step outside and talk about this. We can leave the other two out for now.”

He knew.

The first crack in the façade formed as Donatello’s eyes reflexively grew wide.

He knew he knew.

“Back. Off.” Donatello needed to double down. He needed to get away.

Of course, he knew. Why wouldn’t he? He was co-conspirator.

“No, I’m not letting you go hide in your cave again.” Leonardo narrowed his gaze. It was a clear sign that he was readying himself.

“One last chance.” Donatello was veritably steaming. His brother never knew when to quit.

“Look.” Leonardo broke from the machismo and lesser emotion took full reign.

Donatello immediately pinged it for pity. The second crack formed as twisted dismay tugged at the corners of his lips.

“I know you’re going through something and I can see that bottling it up isn’t going so hot for you right now…” There was sadness in Leonardo’s eyes as he gestured up and down.

It was as if he’d swallowed lead.

“Why don’t you go ask your partner then?” Donatello hadn’t meant for that to come out. Was that the third crack or had he already lost count? Either way the words sounded just as bitter as aftertaste they left.

“My…?” Leonardo drew his head back in confusion.

Donatello took two sliding, cautious steps backwards. An unintentional opening was an opening all the same.

“Parnter, what-?” The ignorance seemed genuine.

It was his curse to need to clarify. “Partner, lover, significant other…!” Donatello’s jaw was so tight from forcing the words out, he thought it might pop. “You know what I mean.”

“Love-” Leonardo started and stopped as realization struck him.

Donatello waited for the guilt to flood in, but Leonardo’s lips twitched with something else.

Leonardo started laughing. Uncontrollably.

This time the few more steps Donatello gained were not consciously planned.

“T-that! Y-you!!” Leonardo choked through the every flowing giggles. “You think that I have-” A chortle throttled him and he had to grab the fridge for support. “A-and just who do you think this person is, huh?” He couldn’t keep the wrinkled smile off his face as he forced the question out.

How could he play this dumb? He knew. He admitted it!

“I know you know!” Donatello hissed. It felt like his muscles were locking up.

For a moment Leonardo stared back incredulously. Then a bud of understanding bloomed. “Don’t tell me you’re talking about Y/N?” It was followed by a cool takeover of his body language. He traded holding on the fridge for dear life to leaning against it nonchalantly.

Donatello stiffened. His brother had the audacity to act arrogant. After everything. He did know. Everything he’d done. Everything he’d put him through. He was still playing him. The fool.

Whatever passed over Donatello’s features gave Leonardo the answer he was looking for. “Wait.” His brother’s face dropped into disbelief. “You think that Y/N and I…?” He pointed a finger into his own chest.

Everything slowed down. It started as Donatello watched the digit tremble. Like a shockwave, the vibration spread up Leonardo's arm, then his neck, before finally worming its way into his face. As the corner of Leonardo’s lips upturned, Donatello could see it. His brother was going to laugh again. That high pitched guffaw. The one that played him. The one that tricked the others. He couldn’t stand it. Leonardo’s lips began to part, but the way he inhaled said otherwise.

“Oh, Donald.” Leonardo sliced through snicker with a sharp mocking tone. “With all this theatrics you’d think you were a duck and not a turtle.” The words were steeped in how ridiculous he found the whole thing while also punctuating them with some sort of compassion.

Insult to injury. Leonardo was trying to joke.

It was like the plate had shattered a second time. He could feel the well-oiled machine of his mind shutting down. The kind of sort of reactor meltdown he hadn’t felt since he was a child; a long forgotten reason why he shunned emotions. He’d lose control. He’d be locked away as a frustrated bystander as his body raved of its own accord. It was too late to stop it. The counter reached zero.

Donatello’s fist connected with Leonardo’s jaw.

The blow caused Leonardo’s head to slam into the fridge.

As he dropped to the floor, Michelangelo was the first to move. “Leo!”

“Donnie!?” Raphael was the next.

Mechanical arms sprouted from Donatello’s battle shell.

“What the heck are you doing!?”

In one swift turn, Donatello departed from the room as his battle shell dethatched from his body. Every arm extended out and buried itself deep into the walls, floor, and cabinets; creating a webbed caged that trapped the brothers in the kitchen.

“Donnie!!!” Raphael yelled after, grabbing one of the arms and pulling at. “When did these things get so strong?!”

Leo groaned. “What happen-?”

“Donnie hit you and you hit your head! Oh and Donnie’s gone nuts!” Michelangelo worried, his hands hovering over his brother.

Leonardo pushed one of the hands away, taking stock. “Ugh!” Pulling both his swords out, he sliced open a portal and hurled himself through it. “I told you!” He leapt out in front of the open lab. “You aren’t getting away anymore!!!”

“What about us!?” Michelangelo’s voice called from across the lair.

Leonardo stared down the recesses of the lab. Pitch black darkness greeted him. Dropping down into a readied stance, he called out. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you turn your precious computers off!”

Silence followed. Then a spark of purple mystic energy illuminated a newly battle shell suited Donatello with his tech-bō ready.

Just as the inky gloom draped back down, Donatello shot forward. Leonardo blocked the attack.

“A bit much don’tcha think?!” Leonardo grit his teeth as Donatello pushed backwards off the force and skidded to a halt.

Spinning the tech-bō around, Donatello dropped down and launched himself once more. Strike after strike came with Leonardo blocking all of them.

“Donnie!” Leonardo pleaded, the sheer force of the attacks pushing him to the edge of the walkway they were on. “I’m not-!” Twisting around under the next tech-bō swing, Leonardo used two portals to swap their positions. “-going to fight you!!”

Donatello twisted over the edge of the platform and landed on his feet on the ground floor.

“I get it: you’re mad!” Leonardo shouted from the high ground. “Just-!”

Without looking up, Donatello brought the tech-bō to his side and opened his palm. Purple mystic energy split the components apart and reassembled the staff into a supercharged version of its engine-propelled mallet.

“Aw nuts!” Leonardo paled as Donatello rocketed up to his position. The impact completely destroyed the walkway and Leonardo barely skirted collision.

Spinning down through the debris, Donatello came back up and swung again.

“Would-!”

Leonardo twisted backwards, the mystic fire from the engine singeing the tails of his mask.

“You-!”

Under the guise of dodging another strike, Leonardo back flipped over Donatello and kicked out at battle shell.

“Just-!”

A mechanical arm sprouted in time and wrapped around Leonardo’s foot.

“Chill!”

A scream ripped its way out of Leonardo’s throat as Donatello used the force of the rocket to spin around and launch him across the room.

Leonardo choked on the debris kicked up from where his form now indented the wall. Just as he wearily brought his head up, Donnatello appeared midair and poised to strike again. “Since when-” He disappeared into a portal as the tech-bō made contact with the crater.

“-do you think you can beat me?” Leonardo appeared in the middle of the room.

Donatello lolled his head around to the voice. The tech-bō reassembled around him into two blocks of missile launchers.

“We are INSIDE, young man!” Leonardo balked and disappeared in a flash of blue light just as the missiles took off.

Dust flooded the atrium.

Donatello stilled.

A metallic swing came from the right.

Donatello struck, but nothing connected.

Another twang echoed from the left.

Tech-bō sliced through dusty air.

Grinding his teeth, Donatello brought his staff above his head and started spinning it rapidly. Using the momentum, he brought his weapon down and dispelled all the soot in his immediate area. Twisting around, Leonardo nowhere to be seen, the tech-bō loosened out of Donatello’s hand to rearrange itself once more.

As soon as contact was lost, a portal appeared.

Donatello dropped his weight in an attempt to catch his weapon, but it disappeared into the light.

Leonardo shot out of the last of the dust cloud and kneed his Donatello in the side, flipping him over. Landing on Donatello’s chest and held his sword out. “That’s enough.”

Donatello grabbed at Leonardo’s foot, but the latter’s weight kept him rooted in place.

“I know you’re upset about Y/N, but let me explain!”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Donatello’s voice cracked.

Leonardo’s stern expression withered at the sound.

An explosion shook what was left of the atrium.

Rubble shot forth and Leonardo stumbled back as some struck his shoulder.

“Are you guys ok!?”

“What the heck happened?!”

“Donnie was-" Leonardo looked down to find his brother gone. "Was."

“Donnie…?” Michelangelo spun around, scanning the room wildly.

Raphael approached Leonardo and put a hand on his arm. “Where’s Donnie, Leo!?”

Leonardo reached to his side where a telescoped tech-bō was attached to his belt. He held it up to Raphael who looked at it with growing concern. “We need to go after him.”

You wondered to yourself if it was too late to switch to that upscale bartender position you'd always imagined for yourself. Realistically, with only a couple weeks left until your internship, there was no way any company was going to hire you for such a short time frame. You sighed and rolled over in your bed. Your phone, ever ready, glowed 2:19am against a grey lock screen. It looked so dull, but for now you needed a bland reset. You would have done one for your whole life if the Pizza Bros hadn’t offered to hold your position just in case the internship didn’t work out long term. They were far too kind. That’s probably why the Hamatos were long time customers. Grumbling at the thought, you placed a blanketed hand over your device to block it from view.

You’d somehow lost two of them in the span of a week. The proximity of the loss was what caused you to doubt yourself. Logically whenever you ran through the scenarios, Donnie and Leo were the ones that acted erratically. It simply didn’t make any sense. Worst yet, it felt like you’d never know why. Teetering on a full week, you had doubts that Donnie would ever come forward and speak to you again. Alternatively, if Leo did come forward with an apology, you couldn’t see yourself continuing to hang out with him. You hadn’t thought you were sending him the wrong signals. He never seemed like he liked you. You screwed your eyes shut. It was like running on a hamster wheel; it got you nowhere. Your brow had just started to smooth, when your hand started to shake.

As soon as you lifted the appendage, your phone glow and shook with a phone call. You squinted at the caller: Leonardo Hamato.

Glaring at his intrusion into the real world from your thoughts, you pinched the device to silence it. You watched with a furrowed brow as the call timed out and the phone darkened once more. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. It was strange. You sat up, keeping your eyes glued to the black screen. Leonardo had never once called you in the entire time he’d had your number. Tilting your head, you wondered if it was some sort of accidentally dialing. You were debating the logistics of where on his person that could be activated when your phone lit up with a text this time.

‘EMERGENCY’

If it weren’t so alarming, you would have been even more angry with him for continuing to read your mind. As soon as you started to reach for the phone, another call came through. Swiping the green icon, you brought the device to your ear.

“DON’T HANG UP!” It sounded like he was running.

“Fine.” Just because something was wrong didn’t erase your feelings.

“You’re still mad and you should be, but we have a huge problem!”

“What?” The venom rapidly left your voice as you started to consider the possibilities.

“Yeah. No! I checked there already! The Bronx is next!” He sounded like he had turned his head away from the phone to yell at someone else. The static from his rapid movements kept you from hearing the other party.

“Leo, what’s going on?”

“We lost Donnie!”

Your heart sank. “You… what?”

“OH! Wait! WOAH THERE!” The fuzz stopped as he seemingly came to a halt. “I know how that sounded. He’s not dead!”

“He’s not…?” You shook your head.

“Ahhh!” Leo groaned with frustration. You could just picture him tearing at his nonexistent hair. “It’s a long story!”

“Leo.”

“I don’t… Ugh, how do I put it?” There was a whoosh of static from him presumably turning around in thought. “He… ran away?”

“Leo!”

“What do you want me to say!?” He sounded so frantic.

“I don’t know! You tell me!?”

“I-!” He went so silent, you pulled the phone away from your head to see if the line had gone dead. Your phone brightened at the movement and continued to tick away at a call timer.

“I messed up.”

You brought the phone back to your ear.

“I drove you both away.”

“What do you mean?” Worry brought you to your feet, but his cryptic messages weren’t getting you anywhere.

“Look, I’m sorry.” There was a shuffling sound to the audio as he moved. “That night… I really screwed up.” You heard the sound shift and he made a gagging noise that sounded far away before his voice rushed back to the receiver. “Sorry, I really hate admitting that.”

“Uh huh.” You rolled your eyes and paced. He was still him, no matter what.

“It was a spur of the moment thing. I could just picture the moment with the two of you and I thought ‘why would you put up with that?’ ‘Why should you?’ ‘Why don’t you demand more?’ What you’re worth.” He paused and sighed. “Then I got it in my head if I recreated that kind of moment then you’d see how wrong it was with someone else and how right it was with him? If that makes any sense?!” You could just sense how he threw his hands up in dismay.

“But he’s the one who ran away…” It was the first time you had said it out loud.

“Ok, but why?”

“Don’t you think I’ve been trying to figure that out?” The ice was back in your voice, but you couldn’t help it.

“Either way it was stupid and short sighted…”

“I guess it did work how you intended.” You kicked at a shirt that had been on your floor for an unknown amount of time.

“How so?” He sounded genuinely curious.

“Leo.”

“Yeah, I know! Donnie! Just tell me fast so I can get to that part!”

“It affirmed… him.” You wrapped your free arm around yourself as you took to pacing again. “I want to be with him.”

The phone hissed as Leo blew out a loud sigh of relief. “I’m so glad to hear you say that. It really helps the flow of the story for this next part…”

“About Donnie?”

“Yes!” There was more rustling and the sound of light wind. “So.. uh, let’s just start by saying that you weren’t the only one sulking…”

You paused at that. You’d tried to picture what he was doing over a dozen times, but none of the imaginary Donnie’s had moped about. “Ok…?”

“I mean, six days!? Come on! He wasn’t even going on missions! He built this dumb little robot that he’d remote in to!” Leo was teetering on exasperated again.

“Why not send S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.?”

“Right!?” He shouted in commiseration and you pulled your phone slighty away from your head. “So… tonight… I may have…” He whistled.

“What did you do?” You had to be stern. How could he be messing around at a time like this?

“I… put my foot down!” There was a modicum of faux authority in his voice. “He did not take it well and we got into a fight and he ran away.”

“What kind of fight?!” You had a bad feeling.

“A full on…” He hesitated. “You know: ninja, weapons; it was nasty. We may or may not have destroyed half the lair.”

“Leo!” You put your phone on speaker so you could get dressed.

“I didn’t fight back, but he went ballistic! I don’t know what his deal was! One minute I’m, ok this doesn’t sound great but just, pushing his buttons. It’s natural ribbing. We do it all the time and then the next minute-”

You froze, halfway into your shirt. “What was it about?”

“The time? I have no idea-”

“No!” You shoved the garment down and stomped over to your phone. “Right before the fight! What were you talking about?”

The phone went silent.

“Leo?” The screen was still counting dutifully.

The audio cracked as Leo belted out a scream of frustration.

“Leo!?” You picked up your device anxiously.

“He was there!!!”

“What?” Your hands felt clammy.

“He was there! At the gallery!” He was bordering on manic now.

“At the…?” You parroted back, trying to figure out what he meant.

“Ugh! This is why Raph is always nagging me about exits. ‘Leo, don’t forget to check for surveillance.’ ‘Leo, what about your blind spots?’ ‘Leo, did you change your underwear?’ Nag, nag!” His Raph impression wasn’t even good.

“Focus!” You hoped the urgency in your voice would get him on track.

“He saw us. He saw what I did to you!” The dire tone in his voice put the final piece of the puzzle in place for you.

“Wait… are you saying he attacked you up because you manhandled me?”

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” You could hear the soft sound of him bopping a fist to his head. “I asked what was wrong with him and he told me to ask my lover, which is a wild way of asking that, and I asked him if he meant you, but that was just to get a rise out of him! I didn’t think he would seriously think that!”

“You…” Leaning back, you had to take a deep breath to keep from yelling. If you were with him, you would have strangled the blue hero. “You did what?!”

“Oh stop! Donnie already beat me up enough for the both of you! I messed up! I’m dealing with the consequences.”

“If you thinking that your little apologies are going to make everything better you-!”

“I know.” There was an honest, exhausted resignation in his voice. “I know, but right now we need to find Donnie before I can even start.”

You closed your eyes in an attempt to quell the anger.

“You didn’t see him, Y/N. He lost control.”

You couldn’t even picture that. Though Donnie got swept up in things, he always managed it with an air of composure. “Where have you checked?”

“Dad’s got the lair covered in case he tries to sneak back in while the guys and I have been scouring the city.” His audio warped as he seemed to jostle his phone. “April is monitoring news feeds…” A small groan escaped him as you heard the sound of typing. “This is just like when he disappeared during the power outage. We never did figure out where he went!”

Your eyes widened. “I do.”

“Do what?” Leo wondered, obviously distracted by something.

“I know where he went!” You started to furiously scroll through messages.

“You’re joking?” His voice was thick with doubt.

“It was extremely unlikely, but we ran into each other.” You couldn’t help the small smile that graced your lips. That seemed like such a fond and faraway time now.

“Riiight.” He responded still not convinced.

“I don’t know the name of it…” You clicked your tongue. “But here’s the building that’s nearby!” You copied and sent the address over text. “You can’t miss it. It’s like this little food truck plaza between buildings.”

“Ok...” Leo trailed off, obviously checking the message. “I’m not far from there.” Static picked up as he started moving. “Where else?”

“Where else?” Finally fully dressed, you checked for your wallet and keys.

“Where else have you two gone?”

You stopped just short of grabbing your door handle. “You think he could…?” You stopped and ever-present heaviness in your chest bobbed. “Why would he want to go back to a place like that?”

There was a thump as Leo presumably landed on something. “Oh, I don’t know…” His sarcasm was almost palpable. “Maybe it’s Saturn’s prominent position?”

You opened your door roughly. “Not funny!”

“It’s hard not to riff when you’re the one who started the joke. It obviously has something to do with you! As soon as we find him, I’ll make sure you’re the first to ask, but until then we’re accepting suggestions because, and somehow you can’t tell, we haven’t had much luck!”

Even though what he was saying made technical sense, it wasn’t something you could emotionally accept. It was an oversimplification, but for the time being you’d let Leo off the hook. Everyone was on edge. You began to list off the places you’d met with Donnie as you finally exited your apartment. Banter was exchanged as you locked the door behind you and rushed down to the street. Shuffling you stared up and down the desolate road, unsure of what direction to take. You looked down at your shoes and found them to be the same pair you’d worn when the Dream Van broke down. The helpless you felt now was nothing compared to then.

“Oh this place is cute!” Leo suddenly tittered.

“Where are you?”

“That outdoor plaza. I’m so coming here later.”

“Is he there?”

“No, Mikey’s on route to the Laundromat and Raph is sweeping the Bronx.”

You turned left and right, utterly torn. “I want to help.”

“Ah.” You could already hear negative note to his voice. “You are helping. We’ve got more places to look that we wouldn’t have before, but it’s late and we don’t want to lose you to, ya know?”

That also made sense, but was equally not something you could accept. Tipping your head back, you stared up at the sky helplessly. Only the brightest stars twinkled dimly overhead. Your eyes slowly widened. If this was a movie it’d be terribly climatic. You brought your gaze back to the street and frowned. In a city with great public transportation, you wished you had a car for the first time.

“Did he take a car?”

Leo blew a raspberry. “Yeah right, I think we would have heard him taking off!”

“Did you check?” You tilted your head.

“Did we-” He started and stopped. Then there was a rhythmic thumping as he typed something into his device. “Did we check?” There was a harsh note of insecurity to his sarcasm.

“Did you find him?” A second, garbled harsh voice echoed from Leo’s speaker.

“No, dad, can you just check the garage real quick?”

“I have been keeping watch. There is no way he got past me.”

“S-Splinter? Are we in a three-way call?” You pulled your head away from the phone and saw the note about a third line.

“Can you just check?!” Leo ground out. “And, yes, it was faster than hanging up.”

“Who is that?” Splinter’s voice wondered.

“Hey, Mr… Master? Splinter, we met once when I, uh, watched all your movies? It’s Y/N…”

“Ah, yes, Purple’s love interest”

“That’s not-” You choked.

“Dad! GARAGE!”

“I am going! So ungrateful. You boys get into a fight and I am not allowed to watch my program.” There was clattering from the warped connection.

“Your son is missing.” Leo whined.

“And whose fault is that?” Splinter’s voice carried quite the fatherhood authority.

Leo grumbled something unintelligibly.

There was the thud of a heavy door. “Tacky van is gone.”

“What?!” There was a rush of air around Leo’s voice as if he stood up suddenly.

"It would not be my first choice to search in.” You could hear Splinter’s dismissal.

“Leo?” You jumped in.

“Yeah, I’m thinking.” His voice was strained.

“No, I think I know where he might be.” You added.

“What?!” Leo croaked.

“Did you not think to ask love interest first!?” You could envision Splinter shaking his head with disapproval.

“Dad! Just!” There was a hiss, like pressure through teeth. “Free pass to berate me later if you just hold off. Y/N!”

“Yes?” You jumped slightly from the distraction of trying to plot a course.

“I’m assuming there’s some reason you haven’t sent the address?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s not really an address. It’s where we watched the meteor shower…” You rocked on the heels of your feet.

A silence followed before a small snicker came from Splinter. “I see one of my boys has a romantic bone in his body.”

“I will hang up on you, old man!” Leo shouted so loudly he partially cut out. “So, how do we get there?”

“I mean, we don’t know he’s there for sure! It’s kind of a long shot and the search area is going to be much wider knowing he took a vehicle. I could probably retrace the route, but I don’t have a car and again I don’t want to impede-” You could feel yourself rambling, but the words just wouldn’t stop pouring out of your mouth.

“Ahem, Y/N, was it?” Splinter interjected and the sound caused your mouth to snap shut. “Blue, send out one of those silly looking motorcycles. Y/N will check the lead and you boys will continue to comb the city.”

“Do you have a class M license?” Leo asked.

“Uhh…” You swallowed hard before both other parties started to crack up.

“Oh man, gets ‘em every time!” Leo’s chuckles tapered off and there was a slap sound that was presumably his knee. “They have auto pilot. Dad can you activate it-Wait! Don’t touch anything! I’m returning to base!” Static crinkled as he took off. “Y/N, hang tight. We’re shifting gears!”

“S-sure!” You rushed to respond, but the call had already terminated. You stared at the grey wallpaper until your phone went back to sleep. You held it close to your chest and looked out at the empty street once more. Your long shot guess was rapidly sinking in as a reality. You desperately hoped that your memory of the route was accurate. There was also the matter of the motorcycle. You paced several steps back and forth as time ticked by mercilessly. The anxiety was just starting to crest when you heard a revving on the horizon. Turning, you watched as an audacious, oversize wheeled motorcycle rode up beside you with a soft screech. Atop it, Leo flicked down his sunglasses to look at you.

“Come here often?”

“It is literally the middle of the night!” You squawked, already flustered enough without his hijinks.

“It completes the look!” Leo turned up his nose as he hopped off the bike. “Get on.” He took off his shades and folded them.

Feeling pale, you looked between him and the Shell Hog.

“Just swing your leg over.” He gave a swoop of his arms to hurry you along.

You frowned and failed to exert any grace as you mounted the vehicle. Once you were on, you nervously grabbed the handlebars and looked back to see Leo holding a hand over his mouth to contain his smile. “Really?” You would have injected more disdain if you weren’t mildly petrified.

“No one let’s me have nice things.” Leo remarked and reached over to a small display. With several flicks of his fingers, he navigated to a map. “Just select about where you’re going and you can adjust when you get there. The AI is pretty sophisticated, I mean the man of the hour did write it, so…”

You nodded and swallowed hard as you drug your finger down the approximate roads. “Leo, this is feeling like a crazy idea…”

“You wanted to help, right?” His eyes were still glued to the map you were navigating.

“Yeah.”

“You still want to help, right?”

“Yes.” Even under the unbridled weight of your worries, it wasn’t a question. You slowed your finger and pictured the moment of the turn off from that night. “It’s here.”

“Then go get him!” Gently pushing your hand out of the way, Leo punched the screen a few times and the bike’s engine roared to life. Before you could process what was happening, a helmet came down around your head and the buckle snapped under your chin. Your heart leapt into your throat as Leo stepped back and the Shell Hog started to lurch forward.

“Have fun! Safe Travels! Oh-”

You watched as several sensors and a dashcam analyzed the street around you. The bike turned out onto the road and you reflexively knuckled the handlebars.

“Hit the home button to get-”

You didn’t hear the rest of what Leo said as the motorcycle suddenly accelerated to top speed. A scream died in your throat as you dropped your body down to hug the vehicle as best as you could. Wind whipped around you as the bike maneuvered streets at a breakneck pace. As your body adjusted to the force, the implications of your actions began to sink in. You were riding wildly in the middle of the night to the woods on a vehicle you did not know how to operate on a sheer hunch.

Lifting your head incrementally, you watched as the display ticked through colors. A red light was coming up and the bike lurched left onto a side street. You hugged the chassis and decided that lifting your head was no longer viable. Your heart continued to race as the bike wildly took turn after turn. You opened your eyes sporadically only to see a blur of pavement cycle by. Adrenaline warping your sense of time, you didn’t realize the bike had slowed until the rhythmic tick of a blinker started. Rising up, the Shell Hog took a more leisurely speed as it turned onto the road you had marked. It was dark, just as it had been that night, but it was also somehow unmistakable.

Rolling halfway down the road, the bike came to halt. You frowned. It hadn’t quite made it all the way to the dirt path Donnie had pulled over to. Unsure of how to move the bike further, you all but fell off of it. Brushing dirt off as more of a means of saving your dignity, you unlatched the helmet and placed it on the seat. Swallowing hard, you turned down the road and started to run. You thanked the stars as you soon located the correct path and took off down it. It felt like dispelling ghosts as you ran through visions of your past self that had walked this trail. Pebbles skittered underfoot as you spied the small trio of rocks. You became very aware of the real possibility of him not being there.

Shoving it down, you pulled back the branches and wove your way through the trees. This was the part of the journey you had the vaguest memory of. Without a guide, twigs snapped against your forearms and vegetation nicked at your shins. You had just about lost all hope when you spied the night sky through the trees. With your heart beating out of your chest, you shoved your way to it and stepped out onto the clearing. Hunched over, with his legs dangling off the side of the cliff was the unmistakable figure of Donatello.

You stared at it, unblinking, until tears stung your eyes. Screwing them shut against the moisture, you opened them again to see him still there. He was really there.

Though he was facing away from you, you could tell his head was tilted upwards. You watched as it slowly fell and he let out a breathy sigh.

“So.” The syllable hung in the air. “He sent you.”

It hurt. The tone of his voice stung so much, but you also hadn’t heard his voice in days. “Donnie.”

“Wasn’t it Donatello?” He asked the forest that stretched out before him.

The stinger was traded for the sensation of a blow. “That’s not my-”

“Fault?!” Donnie voice rose with disdain.

“No, I-”

“You what?” He was practically seething, though his body still sat slack.

“Stop interrupting me!” The command snapped out of you against your heavy heart. Silence followed and you screwed your eyes shut. “Look, I think there’s been some mass confusion so if we could just-”

“Confusion?” His voice almost cracked. He got to his feet with a considerable effort. “No, I think I have a crystal clear picture of what’s going on now.”

“Donnie, you don’t-”

“I know!” His voice soared straight to the stars above. He stalked over to you and you shrank before his anger. It was totally different then the night the van broke down. “I know all about this screwed up prank you all have been planning on me! Stop lying! Stop chasing me! I broke free, but you won! So just leave ME ALONE ALREADY!”

“It’s not a prank.” You couldn’t pull your gaze away from his eyes. More emotions swirled there than you had ever seen.

“No, it’s just Leo, right?” He threw his hands up in disgust. “Let’s say I give you the benefit of the doubt and say what was true, hm?” He leaned back, bitterness steeping his person. “So, it’s not prank? I’ve considered that. I’ve considered ever single aspect! Maybe it’s that he’s not enough? I can see that. Not much room for others when you’re so in love with yourself??” He sneered. “So he pedals you off on me. Why me? Angelo would have been the better choice, but he picks me. I fill your emotional quota while he gets the fun of the fling without anything holding him down. How about that? I have several more if that one isn’t quite to your liking.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I just addressed that.” You watched as his lip quivered. “Fine, let’s see, what do we have next? Leo-”

“It has nothing to do with Leo-” The shackles of the initial shock were wearing away as frustrations at his obtuseness was setting in.

“It obviously does-”

“Donnie.”

“You have no motive to act alone-”

“Donnie!”

“Why are you covering for him, do you like him that much-?”

He just wouldn’t stop. You shoved him with all the force your weakened body could muster. “I don’t like Leo!”

You watched in slow motion as the information entered Donnie’s ears and began to twist to fit the warped scenario he’d decided was truth in his head. You could only think of one way to break the spell.

“I’m in love with you!!!”

Already quiet, it was like the forest went deadly silent at your proclamation. Even in the dark, you could see that color was rapidly draining from Donnie’s face. All the angry wrinkles smoothing out in favor of blank confusion. He had completely shut down. Burdened with emotional and adrenal fatigue, the small flicker of fondness brightened your otherwise darkened mind. You imagined he looked like anthropomorphized version of a Blue Screen error.

“Wha-?”

The sound surprised both of you.

“What are you…?” He reanimated and swallowed hard.

“I’ve probably loved you since the moment I first saw you.” Exhausted, the words came easily. “The in love part is something I can't pinpoint as easily. It was more like a series of moments that cultivated it.”

“That long…?” His brow wrinkled woth recollections.

“Yeah.” You wished you could sit down.

“But that doesn’t-” Two fingers went up and massaged his forehead. “Leo-”

“Not Leo.” You shook your head as you corrected him. “You.”

“Then I-?” His eyes started to widen and you could tell he was recalling what he done over the course of the night.

“For now, let’s just put that aside.”

“Y/N, you don’t understand…” Realization continued to dawn on him so you began to approach him. He tensed up instantly at the action and you brought your hands up in amity. His eyes darted around you wildly as you closed in on him.

“I don’t.” You brought your voice down low. “We’ll talk about it, but first, your family is waiting for you.”

His hands fisted hesitantly as his chest. He looked so much like a spooked animal; it broke your heart. Slowly and methodically, you reached out your hands. He switched between studying them and your face carefully.

“I can’t reciprocate.” The phrase came out and it felt a little like being stabbed, but having been watching him closely, you could tell it didn’t have quite the meaning that it otherwise would.

“Don’t worry about that right now.” You shook your head and dropped your gaze to your awaiting hands. “I rode a motorcycle here that I don’t really know how to drive and I’m guessing you took the Dream Van?”

He bobbed with a single nod, his veneer cracking ever so slightly.

“Will it fit in the back? Because there’s no way I’m gonna be able to ride that thing home.” You brought your head back up and beamed him a smile that was utterly riddled with every ounce of fatigue that you’d been masking.

It swayed him in the way you'd hoped. Donnie’s hand slipped into yours. “It won’t fit in the van, but I’ll set it to trail behind.”

You gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Whatever works.”

He returned the gesture. “I’ll set the van to autopilot too.”

Your conjoined hands dropped under the slack weight of your bodies, but held tightly. “Good idea, I don’t think either of us should drive right now.”

Though it had no energy behind it, his throat sounded a single dry chuckle. “Let’s go.”

A/N: A few more questions I thought of and answered while writing that other people may have too, part 2:

Where/What is this lair? It’s definitely not the one from the series since it was destroyed in the movie. I sort of had this thought when I added a couch to the ‘TV room’ from part 7 (There’s no couch in canon, just a La-Z Boy and beanbags). I’m guessing this is probably the third lair they’ve been on. I have no real floor plan other than vibes. Them still living together is because The Economy™ 😂

What’s a TELLO-bot? The Foster-Miller TALON is a real military bomb and mission robot. I just added Donnie’s name to it.

#crushtoomuchfic #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #Leonardo Hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise leo #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #cartoons #fanfiction #my fanfiction #me

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afreakingdork · 1 year

Text

Crush Too Much - Part 4

RotTMNT Donatello x GN!Reader

Warnings: Light Angst, Fluff, Embarrassment, Overbearing Siblings, Aged-up Turtles

FIRST 💜 PREVIOUS

“So….” Was the melodic tone of his voice when he was joking grating or was it just the fact that Leo had insufferably been avoiding said topic of your meeting with Donnie while heavily implying he was going to ask about it at any given moment. Either way, after the first 7 fake-outs, you were no longer holding your breath.

“Mhm?” The response was automatic at this point. Using his tiny plate as a useless middleman, you watched as 5 tiny sandwich triangles disappeared into Leo’s mouth.

“I sort of liked the huge piece that takes up a whole section over on the left.” He pointed towards the said piece and the two of your wound around the packed gallery to get closer to it.

“Is it because it’s blue?” It wasn’t that you weren’t enjoying the event or even his company, but you wished he would just rip the bandage off already.

He looked at your with genuine offense. “I will not be reduced to a mere shade. I can’t believe you would think moi to be so one-note.” He placed a dramatic hand to his chest which absolutely did not help his point. When you’d first arrived at the venue, he gushed over the same brand new trademark blue crushed velvet dinner jacket he now happened to be emphasizing. One of his eyes popped open to find you unamused by the layers of nonsense he was spouting so he straightened up as if properly inspecting the art. “I was going to say I like how you can’t see the brush strokes from far away, but you can up close.”

For the first time that whole evening, he’d had an actual astute observation. The change of pace was like a breath of fresh air. This particular topic was also something you’d heard your friend mention. “I think it has something to do with relationship between color and form.” You turned to look up at the piece. The muddled shades of blue reminded you of the good parts of the evening thus far. It felt like the two of you had successfully conned your way into what was very much a public event. You'd both snatched away a good portion of the free food and no one seemed to think you were freeloaders because of Leo’s outrageous ability to fit in amongst the art crowd by just saying the most the most ridiculous things you had ever heard. Different factions of critics ate up his nonsense and you were only alerted to the deception because every time it worked out, Leo would shoot you an obnoxious wink.

“’Color and texture are ends in themselves.’”

That one sounded like a quote, but you weren’t sure. Maybe he wasn’t all mouth and had been picking up on the cacophony of conversations that drifted amongst the high ceilings. You took a sip of a sparkling cider that you had been nursing since eating a few too many deli meats. “So what kind of feeling do you get from it?” You tilted your head to one side wondering yourself. Blue was usually synonymous with sadness, but that didn’t seem right.

“Curiosity over what happened when you kept my darling brother out for several hours last week.”

You sputtered into another sip and tried not to let your choking fit disturb the other patrons. Leo patted you on the back and after you were able to force oxygen into your lungs once again, you looked up to find him gazing down at you with an self-satisfied grin spread wickedly across his face. You wanted nothing more than to smack it right off. He'd dangled the bait in front of you all evening and you'd been able to resist. You were so mad at yourself there was little room to be mad at him. Further frustrated by your brain's lack of response, you did the next most petty thing and walked away. You dress shoes pinched your feet from their otherwise disuse.

“Aw, Y/N, come on!” He called after you and you stubbornly inserted yourself amongst a crowd of people surrounding a oozing statue of liberty sculpture. You could feel Leo catch-up, but your humility had yet to do the same. “Don’t be like that. You knew it was coming! It can be difficulty when you’re going up against a number 1 player like myself, but I’m sure by tomorrow you will deeply appreciate how hilarious that was.”

A warped reflection of the blue trickster shrugged in your glass. “But right now…?”

“You are mad, yes I got that.” The crowd dispersed to the next piece and Leo stepped up beside you.

“I thought you made the boundary lines pretty clear about Donnie the last time we talked.” You cradled the glass across your chest to telegraph that you were still closed off.

“Donnie, hm?” You weren’t looking at him, but you could just tell his eye brows were waggling.

You were just annoyed enough that you were able to mentally stomp out any flames of blush that the comment may have otherwise sparked. You had been able to strike up a few, albeit short, text conversation with Donnie since your bao meeting. The purple-themed man had even gone so far as to text you that same night about his family’s response to the food. Needless to say you lost more than a few hours of sleep just trying to get your heart to stop beating uncontrollably out of your chest.

Even though you were now only silent out of contemplation, Leo still took it as a cue to drop that particular part of the subject and return to the matter as a whole. “Fine, D is his own person! Yes, you got me! I said that, but that doesn’t mean I’m not super curious about the little impromptu date you went on!”

“It wasn’t-!”

He held up a hand to stop you. “Phrasing, don’t get to tied up in it.” He waved the hand off as if the stop signal he’d given was too serious. “I’m not saying he’s as pure as freshly fallen snow, but people don’t catch his fancy as much as things and nerd stuff do.” Leo shrugged his shoulders as if it was a silly uncontrollable fact of the universe. “So what if we don’t focus on him or the content, but maybe what you did?”

“I didn’t do anything…” You finally offered him a side glance out of how absurd the question was. He was acting like you had duped his brother somehow.

“Come on!” You hadn’t realized you were wearing Leo’s nerves thin until he actively starting to unravel. His knees buckled and his shoulders slumped down until his hands almost touched the floor. “You have to give me something. I thought you were just going to ask for his number!?”

His youthful dramatics were cute so far as it brought out the kid side of him that was far more manageable. “I asked him to go eat first is all.”

“Donnie isn’t really the one of us you can bait with food…” Still crumpled over, Leo narrowed his eyes at you.

“I don’t know what else to tell you.” It was your turn to mimic his earlier cosmically unhelpful shrug. “It’s the truth.”

Leo was uncharacteristically quiet for awhile. You lowered your drink barrier and turned to look at him. He was staring at some black and white photographs. His brow had the slightest crease in it. Just as you were about to ask, you saw his lips part instead.

“So crush, infatuation, or something else?” He was slow to turn to you for your response.

The significance of the question created a mental blowback so strong your whole frame shifted. He turned to stare and his gaze was so intense that you dropped yours to the floor. Your dress shoes shone back at you. You knocked them together at the toes ever so slightly.

“I’m still not sure.”

“Take you time…” You could hear a movement of Leo’s jacket as he presumably turned away from you. “But don’t take too long. Donnie is smart, but he’s also just as dumb as the rest of us in a lot of ways. Don’t even think about hurting him.”

“I would never!” Your gaze snapped up to meet Leo’s back. “Not intentionally… at least…”

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

Your hands fisted at your sides, but Leo did his characteristic mental 180 and bounded back into his bubbly self as a carter came out with a new tray of canapés.

Stumbling out onto the street, the darkened sky disoriented you. Hadn’t the clock rolled over to morning. You took a few weary steps before leaning against a wrought iron fence. You used the brick they were built off of to sit your backpack down. It took some fishing, but you unearthed your phone from between your textbooks and notepads to find the time around 5am; just long enough from sunrise where the sky hadn’t reflected the oncoming dawn. Both yours and your phone’s batteries where lethally low. You sighed and packed your things back up, wrapping your coat tightly around you. Your late night cram session turned video game night had run so far over that you had no hope of getting back to your apartment for any sleep before you’d need to be on your way to your morning class. You made it several steps down the sidewalk as the loaming burden of today’s test seemed as dark as the ocean above. You needed to reorient.

The street was empty so you led a leisurely pace and closed your eyes to check your most pressing needs based on importance. The omnipresent sleep was out of the questions so you shoved that top notification to the side. In its place a new item appeared in the form of caffeine. Opening your eyes and seeing you’d made it a good way down the road without running into anything meant your luck was faring well. An energy drink this early was not something your stomach would tolerate so that meant sustenance was on the menu also. At this hour and on your current budget, you could hit a cheap coffee shop. Some of your facilities returned to you as a streetlight glowed overhead. It would also be a great place to charge your phone. Walking with more purpose now that you had a plan, the next hurdle appeared instantly: without your phone you couldn’t look up the closest or cheapest shop.

You paused, doing a minor heel turn to look up and down the street. This wasn’t an area you were really familiar with. The study group had been hosted by a classmate you’d only met this semester. After brains were thoroughly stuffed with knowledge, the video games had come out. The others, weaker to sleep, had filed out on by one until only you and the host were left. They’d ushered you out, bleary eyed, and were presumably already unconscious which meant so going back for directions was out of the question. Another breathy sigh and you resumed your trudging. You’d have to find somewhere the old fashioned way. You let instinct lead you, turning corners whenever you felt like it. On one particular street, there seemed to be a two or three people mingling down the block. You carved your path outward toward the street and saw there was some sort of break between building rows. It was the most promising lead you’d had so far. If nothing else, you could try to ask the people for directions.

Reaching the break you slowed as everything took on a dream-like quality. Lights were strung all around a plaza bathing it in a golden hue. Cute café table sets were tucked into one side and two open mini food trucks were operating out of the opposite end. The brick inlay of the space shifted outwards from a center point into a mesmerizing swirled pattern. You stepped along a row watching the way your shoes followed the lines. It brought a smile to your face which was made all the brighter when you realized one of the trucks was serving coffees, teas, and pastries. You resisted the urge to run, but only succeeding in instead speed walking your way over.

There was a man hunched over with his back turned to you in the truck. It gave you time to nervously check their hand drawn chalkboard. You were pleasantly surprised to find the prices were reasonable the limited menu seemed tasty.

“Can I help you?”

You turned to him and started off your order with a warm drink. He commiserated on the ever approaching winter. When you ordered your pastry next he offered to warm it up and that could not have sounded any better. You thanked him and paid before remembering something else needed a pick-me-up also.

“This probably sounds ridiculous because we’re literally outside, but do you have a place where I could charge my phone?”

The man chuckled between grinding coffee beans. “You’d think we wouldn’t, but we actually have one outdoor outlet.” He wiped his hands on a cloth before pointing to the café tables. “Though it looks like someone’s using it so you’ll have to share.”

Following his finger and throwing a gratitude over your shoulder, you felt time slow. The only person in the seating area looked ethereal under the twinkling lights. His head was tipped down, but his purple hoodie was unmistakable. One of your hands moved up to your face and you pinched your cheek hard, wincing at the sharp sting. You couldn’t believe it was real. You crossed the bricked space and approached Donatello.

“Mind if I use the charger too?” It felt like an out of body experience.

“Knock yourself out, I’m only using one plug.”

He hadn’t noticed yet, that was somehow even better. You slowly set your bag on the table to fish out both your phone and charger. It took a little longer than it should have because your eyes were glued to him. He was hunched over and oddly enough, not on his phone for once. He was a bit too shaded to see, but it almost seemed like he his eyes were closed. Leaning over the table to where the socket was, you plugged your phone in.

“Wait… Y/N?” You wondered what had finally tipped him off.

“Hey, Donnie.” You smiled at him, straightening up.

“This is…” He straightened his posture and looked at you with a cocked neck. “How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t.” You smiled, zipping your bag up.

“I need to work out the exact calculations, but I can assure you that the odds of us running into each other outside of our respective neighborhoods in a city with a population of a little over 9 million is extremely high. There must be some kind of outside interference.” He tugged on the edges of his hoodie to cover the exposed parts of his legs.

“Trust me, I thought I dreamed you for a second.” You shook your head and took your bag from off the table.

“Does that mean you dream of me often? Your psyche better be doing me justice.” His monotone delivery didn’t read flirt, but the contents of the sentence had you swooning.

“Hm, maybe someday you can read my dream journal.” You muttered, looking back to the coffee stand.

“Ah, so you also keep a log of your dreams? There’s no exact science to it yet, but I feel as though sometime in the near future we can learn a great deal about how long-term memory is utilized in the dreamscape.” He held out a hand of glory. “Someday the future generation will look back on the data of Donatello Hamato as the greatest scholar of his time. Also, I will definitely be remembered for the presumable number of Nobel prizes I’ve been awarded.” Creating an L-shape between his thumb and first finger, he brought it to his chin as he devilishly imagined his illustrious future.

You had meant the journal bit as a joke, but you adored that he took it seriously. It didn’t keep you from being sarcastic about the rest. “Speaking of dreams…”

“I consider myself a scientist foremost and a realist after that. I've simply stated a given!”

“Ah to be young!” You crooned, shouldering you bag like it was far too heavy.

“Another unknown, I might be older than you.” He pointed out both literally and figuratively. You both shared your respective birthdays and he cackled. “I’ve got you beat!”

“Fine, but only someone with youth on their side would be out dressed like that in this weather.” You pointed down to the green branching out from between purple coverage.

The look on his face soured instantly and you debated retracting your statement. Instead he clicked his tongue and gestured for you to take a seat. You took the one across from him and could feel some sort of story coming on. “So the lair lost power and I was given not a second of peace while I alone was tasked with the repair. Unable to take the constant barrage of 'when will it be done, Donnie?' and 'what happened to the backup generator, Donnie?' nonsense any longer, I told them I needed some air. I was just going to take a walk and start anew, preferably with some music to drown them out, but my precious phone was about to die.” He groaned and wiped a hand down his face. He then reached for a drink cup that had been otherwise left forgotten. The moment he lifted it a pathetic whine struggled it's way up his throat. In an act of pure frustration, he crushed the apparently empty cup in hand. “Great! Just great!!”

“Order up!”

You gripped the table, torn between getting your much needed drink and leaving an obviously distraught Donnie behind.

“Just-" He didn’t have the energy for further words and waved you off.

“I’ll be right back!” You pressed before heading over to pick up your breakfast. Your backpack thumped against your back as you gave a meager jog to the counter. You slowed on approach, passing the chalkboard sign which gave you an idea. “Uh, can I do a last minute addition?”

“Sure! What’ll it be?” The man anchored an arm to the counter, ready. You leaned in as if it were a secret and placed the order with a hushed tone. Thankfully the barista was game and leaned into the demonstration himself. When you were done, he glanced across the plaza and pointed at Donatello. “For him?”

“Yes.” You bobbed your head.

A laugh bubbled up in the man, but he seemed to remember the classified nature of the order and cleared his throat. “That’s perfect. I love it.” You paid and he gave you a beaming smile. “Wait right there and I’ll whip it right up.”

You did as you were told with only a few nervous glances back at Donnie. The man was in a purple heap and thankfully didn’t seem to be going anywhere. You were glad you’d forgotten to take your backpack off when you had sat down.

“Here we go!” Instead of the to-go cup that both your drink and Donnie’s previous had been in, the man handed you a tall glass with a matching stirring spoon. You gawked at it in amazement. “Hurry and get it over to him before it mixes. Oh, and I’m sure you will, but be careful with the glass. We’re not actually supposed to give those out to the customers, but I figured this was a special occasion.” He punctuated his sentence with a wink and you felt almost weepy at the kindness this man bestowed upon you.

Juggling your order and the delicate cup, you brought it back over to the table. Donnie’s head was down and folded into his arms. Ypu struggled with a tinge of guilt over the fact that you were grateful for it. Hoping the reveal would at least make up for it, you steeled yourself. “Donnie…” You urged, carefully setting the glass down in front of him.

“Hrm?” He grumbled from underneath his layers. “It’s best if you just leave me. I might as well try again tomorrow.”

“Then I have bad news for you about the time.” You couldn’t keep the airy tone out of your voice. His dramatizations were too much.

“Don’t tell me it’s sunrise already!?” He raised his head and froze. His eyes widened at the concoction in front of him. In the glass was a steaming, cascading mix of rich golden coffee and purple cream. “What…?”

“It’s an ube latte.” You smiled and carefully took a seat. Setting your bag aside, you palmed your cup to warm your hands and watched as Donnie uncurled out of his ball. He gave the drink a stir with stick and you took your first delicious sip of your caffeinated beverage.

“It is my color…” He remarked with a sense of fondness. You nodded and resisted the urge to scarf down your whole pastry. The mix of food, drink, and Donnie’s rising spirits warmed your body.

He grasped the glass and took a sip. “Hmmm.” He then acted as if he were a sommelier, twirling the liquid and sniffing it between small tastings. “It’s a bit sweet for my tastes, but the nuttiness pairs really well with the espresso.”

“As long as you don’t hate it, that’s a win for me!” You nodded, just finishing off the last flaky bite.

“It’s not your responsibility to cheer me up.” Cradling the cup in a similar way for warmth, he continued to sip the beverage.

“Is that what I did? I was just thinking purple goes with purple.” You gave him a catlike grin and took a long luxurious swig of your ever emptying drink.

“I would like to reinstate the line of questioning about this being a set-up.” He pointed at you and there was an air of playfulness to the otherwise staunch delivery that was not lost on you.

“Damn, I knew the barista wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut.” You snapped your finger in frustration and both of you chuckled.

Several moments of silence passed before Donnie gave a long winded sigh. “I believe I left off when I was about to lose my phone?” His brows hung heavy with effort.

“That’s right, but you don’t have to get into it if you don’t want to.”

He shook his head. “I like to finish what I start.” He leaned back in his chair and took the latte with him. “So I change course for the nearest cafe and catch a glimpse of orange which means I was definitely followed!”

In rapt attention it occurred to you that must mean his other siblings were also color coded. It seemed like it should be obvious seeing as how the only one you knew was too, but it somehow wasn’t.

“I catch up to Mikey and he says he was just worried about me, but he’s a terrible liar.” Donnie rolled his eyes. “His phone goes off and after a short grapple for the device, I find that the others are using him as a gauge to see when I had ‘calmed down’ and to give an ‘eta when the power would be back on.’” You were impressed that he was able to inject so much anger into air quotes. “Like that’s all I’m good for! They act like my emotions are just a hindrance when they pop up because I usually don’t have them!”

Your eyes widened. That was a particularly loaded sentence. You wanted to interject to reassure him that it had never crossed your mind that he didn’t have emotions, but interrupting him didn’t seem right either.

“Cue a long winded chase where Raph and Leo came topside in pursuit and…” Donnie rolled a wrist in demonstration before flattening out for the finale. “Needless to say I lost them since it’s been… Oh.” He smacked the hand to his forehead. “I had asked about the time?”

Waking your phone up, your read off the number. “It’s almost 6am.”

“I lost them about two and a half hours ago, so I would rate it as a pretty successful escape.” He took a long swig of his drink, almost finishing it off. “Since I ran out, I didn’t have time to throw on pants as I would have if I had known I was going to be stuck out in the cold for so long.” The weight of the story lightened into his characteristic dry tone.

Finishing off your drink, you ruminated over the tale as Donnie continued to recuperate. The words ‘lair’ and ‘topside’ were jumping out to you as particularly strange. Were they a family of super villains? They didn’t seem like it, but it was such a strange word choice. You really wished you knew what they did for a living. As you came out of your thoughts, you watched Donnie chug the rest of his latte and give a long breathy exhale that seemed to blow out his concerns.

“I did not yet thank you for this.” He set the glass down with the stirrer tinkling from the movement. “Still too sweet overall, but I suppose one could say it was ‘just what I needed.’” He put on a different voice for the quote and you wondered who he was mimicking. “Though to be more accurate there were many factors that improved my current mood.” He paused, his lip pursed before eyeing you. “If you did track me, you picked a very good time to reveal your location. To reiterate: thank you.”

Oh how you wished you had any liquid left in your cup to justify hiding behind it. “Any time!” You were torn between upholding the gesture and playing your skipping heart beat off with a joke. “My sensors are specifically tuned for when Donnie is in distress.” Your mouth jumped ahead of both your brain and heart. You wanted to bang your head against the table.

Donnie, on the other hand, smiled softly. “That might be something I should consider adding to my repertoire.” He tapped his device and made a quick note with nimble fingers especially considering how many he had.

“Are you saying you track your brothers?” You wondered through a laugh. This meeting might have charged you up just as much as your breakfast had.

“Nooo…” He drew out the word and looked left to right with narrowed suspicion. "I definitely do no such thing."

That was not convincing in the slightest, but also seemed to absurd to be a real thing. It wouldn't keep you from teasing him for it though. “And you said Mikey…?” You really hoped you had gotten that name right. “Was the a bad liar?”

“Yes, Mikey, but otherwise, I don’t care to know what you mean!” He retorted, folding his arms. Pale hues started to color the sky. You saw them as you craned back, enjoying the moment.

“I have a mid-term in just over an hour.” You told the single streaked cloud above.

“I’m sorry, what?!” Donnie banged the table with a sudden jolt and the glass cup tipped violently. Slow motion horror spread across your face as your brought uour gaze back down only to see the cup suddenly right itself before your eyes.

“Wh-“ You muttered in disbelief, raising a hand to feebly point at the action.

“No!” He ordered, pointing his own finger in a more accusatory manner. “We’ve been focused on me this whole time when I should have been questioning you! Why are you up so early? You look like you haven’t slept at all! You’re going to take a test in this state? Where’s your academic honor!? Did you even study?!”

You stared back at him weakly. The ever growing light overhead was certainly not helping the bags under your eyes, but all you could think about was how much he must value education. That and he apparently had the reflexes of a ninja.

“If you aren’t going to answer me then get up. Up!” He flung his arms in time with the command, picking up his glass and standing himself.

You scrambled to follow suit while gathering your trash. “In my defense, I was up all night studying.” You would just leave out the gaming part out for the time being. It was something you could consider texting him as a fun teasing surprise after your class.

“An all-nighter?” He seemed utterly revolted as he strode over to the drink truck where a line was starting to form.

After watching him deposit the glass, you pouted and turned your head away as he approached. “I’m hearing a lot of lecture from the guy who is also awake… What did you say you were doing? Electrician work?”

His inhale was so sharp he almost whistled. “How dare you!? Tradespersons have honorable professions, but my arsenal includes so much more that comparing what I do to a single line of work is utterly disgraceful!” You walked out of the plaza together, but the indignity was too much for him. He rounded you and pressed a finger right to your forehead. “Apologize to me while I’ll still accept it!”

The best you could do was crinkle your overjoyed smile.

“And stop smiling! Why are you even smiling?!”

If only he knew how lucky you counted yourself.

💜 NEXT 💜

518 notes · View notes

afreakingdork · 1 year

Text

Crush Too Much - Part 5

RotTMNT Donatello x GN!Reader

Warnings: Light Angst, Fluff, Embarrassment, Overbearing Siblings, Aged-up Turtles

FIRST 💜 PREVIOUS

Regretting your decision to opt for the less expensive pair weighed on your mind as you blew warm air into your gloved hands. Winter was in full swing, but neither the current nor impending cold of the evening had yet to freeze your warm spirits. To say the stars had aligned over your last three months would be an understatement. Though you had met up with him in a few fleeting times after work, Donnie and you now texted on a daily basis. They weren’t earth shattering conversations, but you felt confident enough to text him even if you were just bored. While he seemed borderline nocturnal, he was never one to ignore a message. He indulged you at your silliest and was there for you as much as he could be if you were stressed out. The fall semester finals had been particularly draining, but finding a care package left for you at work containing your favorite snacks and a library map on helpful books is the only time you'd almost been brought you to tears. He was never overly sweet, but he paid attention and that mattered just as much if not more.

Your hands warmed, you stuffed them into your pockets to retain the heat. Keeping your arms close to your body, you took a few lazy steps in a circle on the corner you were waiting at.

Your others friends had started to pick up on the way you stared at your phone. You were coy about it, but their cheeky smiles spoke volumes. Your ability to maneuver these goading situations had been greatly amplified by the time you had spent with Leo. In a far lower frequency than Donnie, you’d texted with the blue-themed man. He was far less interested in messages and more in the capers you executed. He often only began a digital conversation with the intent of planning the next outing. Since your first gallery crash, he’d successfully ushered you as his cohort into two other events thus far. They mostly revolved around him rubbing elbows, but he’d always sneak in that same question he’d been asking about your feelings.

Ruminating over the time you’d known the Hamatos made you realize you hadn’t spoken to Leo since your last outing. You shrank down into your coat as you remembered Leo last asking his question just as you were about to leave. You’d dropped the defining ‘like’ word to describe your feelings for Donnie before literally taking off. Had he been ignoring you because you could only admit it by essentially running away after?

“There you are.” Donnie’s voice drifted in from your left and all other concerns seemed to evaporate. You tried to keep the twinkle in your eye to a minimum as you rounded on a heel to greet him. He was, of course, dressed in his winter clothes and though you had seen them before, your heart still skipped a beat. It took a lot of will power to not play with the flaps of his trapper hat. You loved how they were just a winterized version of his goggles.

“Was I hard to spot?” It was one of the few times you were thankful for your mouth moving faster than your mind could keep up.

“Not at all.” He tipped his head to one side, his half-cocked smile stretching across his face. “At first glance with everyone bundled up you would think so, but every person carries themselves a little differently.”

“Vigilant as always.” You noted, rolling on the balls of your feet. He nodded languidly and from within your coats pockets you fumbled to locate a folded piece of paper. “I could spot you no matter how big the crowd though.”

“I would make a joke about my devilishly good looks, but I know exactly what you’re going to say.” He slumped at the missed opportunity.

“Purple?” You mused, pulling a hand out victorious.

“Purple.” He snapped back dryly. “Is that the pass? I can’t believe you actually printed it; so very archaic of you.”

“And just liked we discussed before, part of the email said you have to come with printed passes. Sure, there was also a QR code, but I didn't want to get it wrong.” You pouted and unfurled the paper.

“The fact that they have an inconsistency of that nature doesn’t reflect well on our plans for the evening.” He held out his hand and you passed him the form.

“Sure, the whole thing is really loose, but we also get to see a movie for free and before everyone else so…” You drew out the syllable goading him.

He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth was upturned. “’Win, win.’”

“Exactly! Let’s go get in line!” You spun around and marched toward the theater with Donnie in tow.

“How many of these showings have you gone to?” He wondered.

“This is my third one since I found out about it maybe… a year ago?” You tilted your head trying to remember the first movie you’d seen this way.

“So you and a guest,” He gestured to the both of you. “See a movie for free in a showing set up by the studio’s distribution department in an attempt to garner word of mouth?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” You slowed as the theater’s bright lights loomed overhead.

Donnie made a small hum of frustration as he studying the passes he still held. “I keep looking for some sort of fine print or detail on the larger machinations of the principle. The logistics of the ploy just don’t seem like they’d play out in the movie’s favor.”

“Still thinking it over?” You giggled. “You worried about it so much over text, but you’re still here.”

“I want to see this film.” His head snapped to you with a deadly serious expression.

You bit your lip to keep more laughter from bubbling up. His staunch attitude was so cute. “I mean you know the catch…” As if on cue the two of you approached the sectioned off line where about 7 people were already queued.

“Ah yes, the nefarious ‘first come, first serve.’” Donnie narrowed his eyes as the two of you maneuvered your way behind the ropes. “In this weather it is an obvious ploy to weed out the weak. Those left standing will be the harsher critics.” It was as if an ancient duty had been placed on his shoulders.

“If we’re supposed to critique it more, wouldn’t that not help the whole ‘word of mouth’ thing?” You posed the question knowing it would frustrate him.

His lips pursed in annoyance and he glared at the paper as he reclined against the brick exterior of the theater. Behind him, you pressed a shoulder against the cold wall and listened as he listed off reasons the showing took place publicity to pre-screen runs. You wondered how long he had scoured the internet for research. You’d later pat yourself on the back with how good you were at multitasking. It took great still to simultaneously absorb all his information while both using the time as an excuse to appreciate the glory of him. Using a finger to draw in the air he made a poignant note about how seats in the theater is the optimal view were reserved for critics in an official capacity. You used the motion of warming your gloved hands yet again, but this time as a means to hide the adoring smile spread on your face. The texting was fine, but being able to watch him dispense large swaths of information wasn’t even a contest. You had it so bad.

“To sum it up, there’s just a frustrating lack of clarity.” Donnie groaned, pushing off the wall and taking a few steps in place to shake off the problem that had no real solution.

“That’s probably it.” Your speech adding heated moisture to your fingertips. “I bet they keep us in the dark so they can do whichever of those they want.”

“Make the terms vague so the signing party can’t protest them since they aren’t outlined…” Donnie nodded as he digested the information. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“Who’s nefarious now?” You chuckled, now leaning your head against the brick and committing to the tilted angle your body was at.

“I never said that I wasn’t.” Donnie tilted his head and gave a nonchalant grin that caused that all familiar stomach flip you’d never get used to. He was far too lethal for his own ignorant good.

“Bad guys get ticket responsibility then.” You needed to switch gears so you nodded to the paper still in his hand.

He reviewed it lightly before folding it along the lines you had created earlier. “I’ll guard it with my life.”

“I wouldn’t go that far!” You joked, feigning to roll your eyes at the dramatics. A small silence fell and you watched Donnie shove the square into his own jacket pockets along with his hands. The cold wasn’t unbearable, but the next hour and a half standing in it would surely push your limits. You blinked before screwing your eyes shut. You had gotten so caught up in the sudden euphoria of meeting Donnie that you completely forgot your ulterior motive for the evening. You would have beaten yourself up further if it weren’t for the close proximity of your companion. You withheld a sigh and opened your eyes with renewed determination: you were going to use this time trapped in a line to finally figure out what on earth the man did for a living.

Going over the facts again, it wasn’t exactly as if he’d been dodging the question; you hadn’t asked him outright. You’d pieced together a few things. What he did, his brothers seemed to do also. He was an inventor. He’d sent photos of few minors mechanical objects he had been working on in what looked like a full blown lab setting. He’d mentioned fixing a myriad of things so he had technical ability across a tremendous amount of fields. His family seemed to consist of 2 dads, 3 blood brothers, an April O’Neil, and what seemed to be 3 separate Caseys. It all meant he had a seemingly unlimited amount of funds, schooling that outpaced his age by several decades, and the close confidence of a New York star reporter. None of those things seemed to add up to any specific career and it was driving you crazy.

Refreshed on the details, you prepared to address him. You weren’t sure if you were going to ask outright, but you at least had a solid time frame. In the time you’d been quiet, you were sure he’d already be scrolling his phone. It had never divided his focus before, but there was always a slim chance this could be the time it created some sort of conversational buffer. Sweeping your gaze to him, you jolted as he seemed to be watching you casually with his phone nowhere in sight. You shrank into the rim of your jacket and briefly wondered if he could read minds.

“How did the meeting with your academic advisor go?”

All those movies about having your breath taken away were all simultaneously right and wrong. There were correct in that it was something that could happen, but woefully mistaken when it came to the circumstances. You couldn’t believe he remembered something noted in a casual text almost two weeks ago. “It…” It took so much willpower to not physically wheeze. “It went good. I’m on track for graduation!”

“Still not sure what you’ll do after?” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. What had you done to receive such good karma?

“No, I’m still torn between masters or going straight into the work force.” You hiked your shoulders up because being tucked into your jacket was sort of cozy. “I could and should probably worry about it more, but the classes have gotten so advanced my focus just tends to be funneled into a day by day.”

He nodded in a way that seemed knowing and that’s when it occurred to you that your karma was twice what you’d even considered. He was laying out the ideal groundwork for your evening’s question. It was so perfect it felt like even meeting him initially had been leading up until now. “Y-you’d know right? Are you like a lab tech or something?” Served in a silver platter and yet you still stuttered. You imagined a picture of your face plastered under the definition of mortified.

He laughed brightly at the question. “Nothing of the like.”

You were now mentally making a list of eliminated possibilities. “Oh, then the lab is…?”

“It’s mine. I’ve had one since I was young.” He seemed amused. “I remember the first thing I ever repaired was papa’s remote. He was happy until he realized it controlled every electrical appliance in the house. You think he would have enjoyed the ease of being able to activate the stove for tea and turn on the fan with a single device, but one fire starts and suddenly your first creation is smashed into a million pieces!” The emotional charting from fond memories to trauma was a steep graph when it came to Donatello.

You balked. Was he some kind of comic book billionaire’s son genius? “Did you explain it to him?” The question seemed to fall out of your mouth.

Still at an emotional crest, Donnie seemed to freeze and then mull the matter over. “I suppose an argument could be made that I was just an innocent tot…”

“AKA you didn’t tell him.” You hide your mouth with a gloved hand to bite back a snicker.

“Look, you’re new to the subject of my delicate youth so I’ll give you some brevity, but let’s just say that trying to maneuver the confusing emotional landscape of being told that you are both not supposed to over explain a present while simultaneously being asked to create such isn’t a line that’s easy to maneuver.” He flatted his hand out in demonstration of the segment that had been drawn for him as a kid.

Considering you didn’t even know what he did for a living, asking about his childhood trauma didn’t seem like the best topic to pursue. If you ever did get that close though, you absolutely had a few choice words for whichever parent seemed to have starved Donnie emotionally. Until then, you’d skirt the topic. “Yeah, that’s a lot for a kid to process, but so is having their own lab?”

“I didn’t start out with a full-service lab.” He tipped his head as if that should have been an obvious fact. “I slowly built one up gathering materials from around the lair and expanded slowly to scrap yards and the like.”

You were torn between asking about the use of ‘lair’ again vs. the fact that he built what looked like a fortune 500 backed venture with his own two hands. Your mouth chose to land you somewhere in-between. “You must have grown up in a big place?”

He glanced away with a fond look. “You could say we grew into it.”

Now that one sounded purposely vague, but you weren’t about to give up. “Is it alright for you to be off tonight?”

“Sure, my brothers can pick up the slack once in awhile. If anything goes completely awry they can always contact me. It used to be we could barely be apart, but we’ve gotten more capable with age.” He scuffed the sole of his boot against the pavement.

How long had they been doing this? You were started to reach a breaking point, but just outright asking still seemed not quite right. “They say skill comes with experience.”

He gave a dry huff of amusement. “I can say for a fact that isn’t the only way to garner it.”

Was he trying to lead you now? You feared getting lost in the hazy conversation. “Donnie, I-”

“How long would you say that we’ve known each other?” He asked, turning a curious eye up to the clouds.

You snapped your gaze to him to find him still looking skyward. He had not only taken control of the conversation, but had steered it away from where you had wanted it to go. It was like he was purposefully trying to keep you on your toes tonight. It was confusing. “Me?” You gaped.

“Yes, I have an idea of when I would date it back to, but I was curious where’d you place it.” He nodded to the sky as if it had given him some sort of answering before turning to gaze at your once again.

Your brow scrunched as you considered his point. Leo’s ongoing, albeit confusing, dialog had Impressed upon you the importance of analyzing your feelings at each stage. A particular point of those earlier conversations had been when you’d finally gotten Donnie’s name so that seemed like the logical start point. “The night we got bao.”

He hummed lightly in agreeance. “That’s what I would say also.”

He got quiet again and your shoulders drooped as you waited for some sort of signal that he would continue. It left the two of you seemingly caught in a sort of staring contest, waiting for the other to make the first move. Your gaze was pulled downward as a twitching started around Donnie’s left shoulder. You tilted your head as you watched it spread down his arm. His right hand flew up to grab the appendage and in doing so his body tipped forward at the hips. You were finally just about to open your mouth when he sliced through the silence instead.

“Ah, this is awkward, right!? It’s awkward! You have to say it’s awkward!!” As if he had been holding himself back his arms and legs flailed away from his body.

“Huh?” Your voice was meek, but you were definitely gawking owl-eyed.

“Thiiiiiis!” he dragged out the syllable in a long whine while pointing between the two of you so quickly you could only see a flurry of moment.

You wanted to respond, but only a weak wheeze of air came out of your lips.

“Annnnd I wasn’t supposed to say anything…” He growled with frustration and swung his body until he was gazing up once more. He pinched the bridge of his nose tightly.

“You weren’t supposed to?” You wondered, feeling so very lost.

“Exactly, I can’t keep this up so I’m just going to come clean.” He turned back towards you with his whole body hung with apologetic dangling. “While completely against my character, I know, I had some concerns regarding my personality.”

You would have done a double take if you weren’t already staring right at him.

“It’s easy to acknowledge that you’ve taken the charge in most aspects of our association and, for the record, I want to clarify that this wasn’t being tallied in a competition sense. Instead, after the initial examination of the poorly executed idea of the evening, not yours, the distribution company, I realized that it would be a poor sport of me to force you to make the conversation for the course of our tenure in line.” His arms were drooping down so low that they almost touched the ground.

You were frozen in astonishment. While you had been suffering under your own self-imposed burden, he had been doing the same to himself.

“So, I then came up with a list of talking points, but as I thought about the specifics of trying to force those into a conversation the whole thing just seemed stale.” He rose up incrementally giving a face of distaste. “So I…” He swallowed hard as if bile was rising in his throat. You watched as he straightened his back before buckling immediately under the stress of whatever he was trying to get out. “IendedupconsulltingAngeloonthematter.” He choked the sentence out as quickly as possible before a shiver ran its course through his whole body.

“Mikey?” You peeped, trying to make some sound come out of your body. You were relatively familiar with the various nicknames Donnie had for his brothers, but he had spoken so fast you almost weren’t sure you’d caught the right one.

“Yes.” He retorted instantly in a heavily defeated tone. “He has this moronic doctor alter-ego that goes by many names, but always retains the same faux doctorate.”

The ridiculous nature of the statement broke through your frozen exterior and elicited a single dry chuckle from your body. “You each have your own quirks, huh?”

Donnie gave you an only mildly scandalized side glance before continuing. “In this particular session, I spoke with Dr. Friendship, who instructed me to put my phone away, pay attention, and focus on asking questions that don’t have to do with me.”

You snorted; that was even funnier. “But you do those things anyway.”

“So, I’ve been trying all evening to-" He went rigid in his otherwise continued explanation and shot you a suspicious though inquisitive stare. “What did you say?”

“I mean, minus the phone, you always pay attention and I’ve never felt not included.” It was so matter of fact your body bobbed with the point.

“You’re not just saying that?” His doubts were still prevalent.

“How many times have I lied to you?” You shot back your own question, finally getting a feel for the conversation again. Everything was falling back into line.

Donnie did some mental calculations before returning his attentions. “Based on what I know so far, everything seems on the up and up although there are claims I currently can’t verify…” He trailed off giving it once more turn in his mind before deciding. “At this present time I suppose I can say you have not.”

“Then…?” You pressed, trying to get him to say it always meant he’d be more open to an idea.

“Then I worried over all of this for nothing?” He heaved a sigh, his eyes shut with lingering irritation.

“I mean it’s not nothing. It’s ok to worry.” You gave him a reassuring smile.

“Thank goodness!” His voice raised in a means to push out the rest of his frustrations. He followed it up by giving his body a small shake as if he was dislodging the residuals. Something occurred to him in the process that piqued his interest. “It was awkward though, right?”

“I don’t know if I would say awkward, more like… unnatural?” As you tried to put it into words you realized you might have misstep. “N-Not that I would expect you to act a certain way, obviously!”

He seemed oblivious to your plight as he was caught up in his own scurrility. “Dr. Friendship may have capped the whole presentation off by stressing the importance of ‘being yourself.’” He rubbed his chin with his eyes closed. “This is why you don’t leave an important detail to closing arguments! I was already plotting my strategy by that point!”

You resisted the urge to point out that it made more sense to just wait to plan until an entire lecture was done, but it seemed like a moot point. “I’m glad that’s out of the way though. It was like I didn’t know how to talk to that not quite Donnie Donnie!”

“Exactly!” He pointed a finger towards you. “That’s what tipped me of! It was like you were trying to ask me something, but I wasn’t speaking as I normally would which meant you weren’t able to act like yourself either.” A smile finally graced his lips as all the pieces fell into place for him.

A hot flush warded off the time you’d spent in the cold because that wasn’t exactly right. He had been honest with you though, so it felt more than overdue for you to do the same. “Actually…”

You waited for him to come back from his thoughts and address you. “Go ahead.”

“I was trying to ask you something.” Your eyes dropped down, unable to hold the eye contact. Even Donnie had been able to manage that.

“Oh, is that so?” He added casually. It seemed like he was fine waiting for you to get up the courage.

With your head tipped down you thought maybe it was time to have a little outburst proclamation of your own. “I’ve been going crazy these last 3 months…” You brought your head up and fisted your gloved hands at your sides. “…trying to figure out what the heck it is that you and your brothers do?!”

“What we… do?” Donnie seemed taken aback.

“Yeah! You have a lab! All of you look like you have the muscle mass of gymnasts. You never seem to worry about money. You know a lot of powerful people, but at the same time it’s like no record of you even exists!” As the words tumbled you, you realized you had never tried to look him up, but you were too far gone in that respect. “You live with your family in what you keep calling a lair. Your hours are totally incomprehensible. I’ve heard other wild words thrown around like ‘topside’ and ‘patrol’ like that’s not a big deal! Plus, we haven’t addressed it and none of you are really hiding it, but are we like dancing around the fact that…” You leaned in close and raised a gloved hand like that you had a secret to share. Donnie blinked before lending you an ear. “…you’re mutants…?”

Donnie spit out a breath of air as a laugh took him. You jolted and he leaned back, holding a hand to his stomach. The line around you both had built up since you first queued and a few people looked at him. He wiped away a single tear from his eye before giving you a lopsided grin. “We do keep it on the down low, but we’ve found that over the years that confidence sells an image of normality. If we just act like we blend right in, we usually get less questions about the matter.”

“You laughed so hard…” You weren’t exactly slighted, but it had been weighing so heavily on your mind that the fact it was so hilarious to him seemed unfair.

“Sorry.” His grin could not be dampened. “It’s just a nice change of pace from someone that isn’t loudly talking about how gross we are. You, on the other hand, have been acting like it was a secret to guard?!” His light air tapered off as he heard the words coming out of his mouth. “Ah, no wait, I see now what you are saying…”

“I didn’t want to out you!” You knew it was childish, but your foot gave a little stomp. He turned away and you could tell he had done so to swallow another laugh. “Why you-!” You swatted at his closest arm lightly. “Now I’m the one who worried over nothing!”

He faced you again and held up a hand like a focus mitt. You gave it a few withheld punches before sighing. “Better?”

“Yes…” You grumbled.

“Good.” He nodded with accomplishment and then shifted into a prepared stance. “Let’s clear the air then. Ask away.”

A puff of surprised air came out of your mouth. “What kind… are you? I can see the green, but it doesn’t seem like lizard…?”

He nodded his head in a way that said he was evaluating your inquiry. “Turtle.”

You resisted the urge to groan and instead pointed to his shoulders. “Then that’s...”

He turned his head to look at what your pointing and made an educated guess. “A shell? Why yes it is.”

At that you couldn’t help but tip your head back. It really seemed obvious. Coming back down from the stars you lifted a curious finger. “Do you mind if I…?”

He raised a brow and studied the digit. “Go ahead.” The response was affirmative, but tense so you were slow about reaching out and poking the finger into his chest. Under the softness of the coat, you could feel the harder plastron.

“I feel so dumb right now…” You flushed, pulling your finger back as you hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Peeking up at Donnie, you saw him biting his lip against more laughter.

He shook his head, but you could tell there was the slightest hitch to the movement. “As for what we do…” He began before folding his arms in a way that meant he was calculating the best description for it. “We… are the protectors of this city.”

“The…?” You started and stopped. The jokes about mafia and super heroes suddenly felt much less absurd. You were sure to lose sleep tonight.

“That may have been a bit dramatic.” Donnie gave a lighthearted sigh before a serious air drew around him. “Do you remember the invasion of New York?”

“I remember being on a cruise ship and then suddenly returning to a devastated city, like everyone else-” You were stating it like a natural fact until you realized Donnie wasn’t immediately commiserating like anyone else would. You could feel the color drain from your face. “Wh-what are you saying?”

He had a faraway look to him. “That my family…” He breathed deeply and then leaned in closer to you as you had to him earlier. His voice dropped down just for you to hear. “…saved the city.”

Since he leaned into your ear and gave you no time to react, you stared ahead. Your eyes grew large as many tidbits of conversation fell into place. You only realized you hadn’t blinked when the cold air started stinging your retinas. You screwed your eyes shut and sank down into your coat. What had you heard? There was always talk of colored vigilantes over the years, but never any concrete evidence that anyone took seriously. Donatello and his brothers, from your perspective, lived in the city without a care in the world. Donnie himself had just mentioned moving with confidence. “How many other times than that?” You asked the question to the ground before turning to look at him shell-shocked.

The gentle look on his face told you more times than he could mention. “That’s…”

“It’s what we do.”

“Incredible.”

His head moved back incrementally at the passion in your voice. It fanned his ego and he brought his chin up haughtily. “I appreciate the comment, citizen!”

You laughed, but caught the eye he peeked open down at you to gauge your reaction. He seemed satisfied, but you had one last major question. “So, where do you live?”

His shiny demeanor dulled ever so slightly. “Let me pose you a question first to get you into the right mindset.”

“Okay…?” You tilted your head curiously.

“Have you ever thought I stunk?” He watched you closely.

You would have laughed if it weren’t for the clear patient gaze he was giving you. You went from disbelief to utter confusion. “No…?”

An arm jutted out right in front of your face. “No?”

You looked between the appendage and him taking the cue that he obviously wanted you to smell his coat. You leaned forward and gave it a sniff and smelled nothing but the faint scent of fabric softener. “No.” You responded firmly. “And I’ve never thought about it before now so it’s safe to say that can go all the way back to when I first met you.”

“Sewers.” He said staunchly, returning his arm to his side.

“Sew-“ You began to parrot back before the word sunk in. You weren’t only colored incredulous, but dyed in it. “H-hold on-?” You raised your hands as if to stave off the confusion. You looked to him for a hint of comedy, but he watched you uninhibited look that hid nothing. You replayed his earlier mentions of the lair and shook your head. Donnie stayed silent and continued to stare expectantly. You turned the thought over a few more times and then looked at him with renewed determination. “But-”

The smallest wince passed over his features.

“You saved the world!?” As soon as the first word left your lips you caught how loud it was going to be and muffled the rest under your gloved hands.

Donnie’s brows shot up with surprise. You weren’t sure what he thought you were going to say, but what you did caught him off guard. His expression softened and one corner of his mouth turned up. “We’ve even saved Bro’s Pizza and we didn’t even get a discount.”

“Quality and no hand outs!” You grinned with dawning memory even if it had been shared with his brother.

Donnie shook his head like it was a simple annoying fact of the universe. Any lingering tautness to his muscles seemed to melt away. He turned as if he was going to say something else when a loud voice cut through the cold air.

“Alright, folks! We’re going to bring you back in just a few minutes here and if you have two people coming in on your pass then both parties better be here or they will not be admitted! Again, be ready, we’ll call you back in just a few minutes, all parties ready! We’ll be giving out wrist bands so I’d recommend getting one, your seat, and then you can feel free to move about the cabin! Thank you!!!”

Any other point disappeared as Donnie’s face scrunched up with distaste. “That was a joke, right?”

“Nope, that’s about what they say every time.” You couldn’t help, but smile.

“Scoff! It’s beyond sloppy!” He looked to you for reassurance, but found amusement instead. He rolled his eyes away from you and narrowed at where the person had just been standing. “I’m going to find them and have a choice word with them after the film.”

“You’re going to make it hard for me to decide which I want to watch more.” You giggled.

He swept a deadpan expression back to you. “Oh, you were coming whether you wanted to or not.”

“Well good thing I do!” You felt light again.

You attitude must have been infectious because Donnie seemed to brighten also. “From now on, we agree to just ask if we have questions, worries, or what not.”

It was less of a question and more of a statement, but the terms were perfectly agreeable. You still had a slew of burning questions about his hero title, but another attendant walked out to direct the line. You could spread the questions out; it meant you had text fodder for weeks to come and that alone was enough to speed up your heart rate. Why had you ever even worried about feeling cold in this weather when you had him by your side? “That sounds perfect, Donnie.”

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afreakingdork · 1 year

Text

Crush Too Much - Part 16

RotTMNT Donatello x GN!Reader

Warnings: Longing, Angst, Fluff, Embarrassment, Overbearing Siblings, Aged-up Turtles

FIRST 💜 PREVIOUS

He had to resist temptation. Sighing, the thick damp air seemed to curl around and mimic his own breath. Peering out from underneath a straw sunhat, Donatello peered up at the humming grow lights. Studying their directionality, he frowned. The topmost leaves of a plant had reached a little too high and were started to scorch. Turning, he headed towards his tool rack to get a ladder. The fringes of his performance review inched their way into his conscious thought. He mentally crumpled a page littered with red marks and dumped it into a wastebasket. His greenhouse was supposed to be a safe haven. It was a zen sanctuary where he communed with living creatures that made the most sense. They were on their little pursuits for water, food, and chemicals to survive. They enjoyed music. They were great listeners and never judged. They were also fascinating test subjects that rarely complained. He adored the camaraderie.

Which is precisely why he shouldn’t still be ruminating over his theatrics at the club from a week ago. Sure, he had run away yet again, but there was higher purpose this time. It wasn’t as if love was completely outside the realm of diagnosable probabilities; it had been clearly established as a possible perpetrator for heart break. He knew as much. It was the timing of the whole thing that had sent him reeling. How could anyone understand how absolutely mortifying it was? The weight of his incompetence? Realizing he was in love was one thing. Realizing he was in love after having gone through a year of flirting, a date, a meltdown, a veritable breakup, and a reconnection all unbeknownst to himself was a humiliation he could hardly bare. So he had locked himself in a dingy bathroom. He had waited until the choppy waters of nausea abated and had left with several texted excuses. He hadn’t even taken the time to make the story congruent.

Never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d allow himself to be so sloppy. Without a doubt, there were thousands of mistakes that had come via his hand due to lack of forethought, but unexpected results were just a byproduct of the scientific experience. He had to test. Tests had a litany of outcomes. That process of trial and error was pure exhilaration. His emotional outpouring, however, was far from it. He valued his intelligence to a degree that was often ridiculed by those close to him. He knew it wasn’t meant to be cruel; they each had their eccentricities. Any family worth their salt found a way to navigate their differences and coexist. It just so happened that with his family, that harmony was also tested on the battlefield where it was a matter of life or death. At first, he had to be smart because that was he brought to the team. As their mystic powers grew, he’d grappled with the shift. His intelligence was what made him worthy to walk beside his brothers and their strengths. He had long come to terms with the fault in that thinking, but it didn’t mean the fringes of the long ingrained coping mechanism evaporated overnight.

He considered the current level of his emotional intelligence to be caustic. He had always been different and that had just been a simple known fact of the world. In Mikey’s words, he was better for it. There were things that brought his brothers to tears while he cast a bored, dry eye, but it could easily be written off to checks and balances. If their emotional labor clouded their vision then Donatello could swoop in and pick up the slack. The thing was, when his brothers were upset, they didn’t leave a figurative body count in their wake. Leave it to him to break another’s heart, his own, and almost physically crush someone else just because his feelings got a little out of hand. Heaving yet another sigh, the ladder creaked under Donatello’s weight. He adjusted the height of the bulb and let his fingers run over the yellow bleaching on the plant’s leaf. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about this.

Descending the ladder, his thoughts mimicked the move. What right did he have to love you after what he put you through? After coming to terms with his own heartbreak, it was difficult to think back to the fire escape without a thick coating of disdain. He’d tried to open the door for you to admit your confession was a mistake; as if it was a string of words that had come out in erroneous order. Even now it made him wince. It begged the question why you let him near you at all at this point. He’d swooped in and dressed you like a toddler that couldn’t help mismatching patterns. He faltered getting the ladder back on to its hook. He’d acted out in petty jealousy on a night that was meant to showcase Mikey. Turning away from the tool rack, he smashed his toe into a workbench. He’d manhandled you on the dance floor to the point where you’d had to remind him that his actions weren’t strange. Hissing, he doubled over. This was a modicum on the retribution he deserved, not the elated highs of love.

Straightening, he limped the short distance to properly stand in front of the desk. Reviewing his daily checklist, he moved to grab various containers and soils. Even if your tolerance to his selfish actions was opening the door to friendship, that’s all it was. Setting aside whether he deserved to have feelings for you, he certainly had missed the window to act on them. The lingering sting in his foot brought about a metaphor of stomping out of the embers for passion. He had done that swiftly and violently without a second thought. It was a fire safety etiquette that Todd would probably praise, but then again the capybara rarely spoke in negatives. Following out the formula he’d concocted in his lab, Donatello mixed the soils with gloved hands.

In yet another reason why he wasn’t supposed to keep ruminating on this subject, he’d also made a plan for himself. Just as he was preparing his plants for their autumnal rotation, he had plotted the framework of his own shift. If friendship was what was on the table then he was going to take it posthaste. He would blow any of your other friendships out of the water. Smiling wickedly, he used a dropper to extrude a calculated amount of his own micronutrient cocktail to the dirt. They’d sing the praises of his sociability for years to come. Replacing the dispenser back into its vial, he drooped slightly. His ego might be taking a hold again. He’d have to mind that.

Giving the soil a thorough stir, he ungloved a hand to acquire a pH strip. Testing the mix, he craned an elbow to the table and watched an old clock round its second’s hand. Regardless, he was going to prove that your decision to let him back into your life was not in vain. It afforded him a chance to make up for his past transgressions while also allowing him to keep you in his life. He frowned as the strip turned several shades too blue. Returning to his ingredients, he corrected for the alkaline mix. Maybe it was the accursed affection, but the thought of losing you again was a future he didn’t care to look towards. He was going to salvage and make the best of what he had now. Testing another strip, he nodded to himself. That would be enough. Satisfied with the new color, he heaved the soil up and over to a prepared planter bed. He had to hurry anyway, he’d done what any sensible person in his position would do: he invited you over.

With years of learned practice, he lost himself to the planting process. By the time he had seeded the fresh soil and adjusted the new string of grow lights, his phone was calling out to him. Struggling against the bits of loam that clung to his leather gloves, he managed to free a hand and swipe the message. It was perfect timing as you’d just arrived topside. He grinned and shot off a map directing you to his location. Resisting the urge to nervously tidy, he instead removed his other glove and started watering the seedlings. Friends act casual. Friends don’t need everything to be spick and span. This was normal. He jolted as too much water began to displace the newly laid soil. Applying his gloves once more, he nodded. He could do this.

Having exchanged the light dappling of dirt on his person for outright mud, he tried not to panic as he heard your approaching steps.

“Woah…” Your murmur came from the far entrance. There was the slightest shift in pressure as you opened the door. “Donnie? What…?”

He stood and stared down at his swampy gloves with mild perturbance. “Over here.” Frowning, he used the index finger and thumb of one had to start to pick the other glove off. The process caused a squelching noise that made him want to gag.

“Is this…?” You sounded about 4 rows away. “… did you seriously construct a greenhouse in a sewer?”

“There was the matter of location.” He responded, thankful the conversation could get his mind off the dampness that was started to leak through its barrier. “If you look up, you’ll see there’s a grate supplying natural light which I then constructed an amplifier for.”

“But there’s still electric lights?” You wondered, your voice growing closer.

“The natural light supplies the warmth, but not enough for the kind of growth I was trying to achieve.” Though it almost turned inside out from the operation, he successfully extracted one glove.

“Is that a pumpkin!?” You shouted.

He rolled his eyes. You had already gone off course. “You think I would have learned my lesson about growing superb squash underground, but who am I to step in the way of excellence?”

“How have you kept this hobby a secret?” You drew out the question, no doubt lost in your surroundings.

Even though he’d carefully constructed every inch of this space, he would often find himself in a similar manner so he couldn’t blame you. Finally ridding himself of both muddy gloves, he set them on the edge of the newly finished planter. “You never asked.”

“Because you so strike everyone as a flower guy.” You sarcasm leaked in from only one row away. He turned and glimpsed your form through twisting stalks.

“My true passion is botany.” He announced proudly as you emerged from behind the greenery. He expected curious excitement, but what he got was an ever wrinkling lip.

“Y-you…” You turned your head and tried to abate the laughter. “You look so cute in your little gardening apron and hat.”

“I’ve changed my mind.” He turned away and brought the empty soil container back to the work bench. “You have a map and can show yourself out!”

“No, no!” You chuckled, jogging over to him. “Come on, I don’t even know what you invited me over for.”

He was glad for the hat’s brim because it meant you couldn’t see the amused smile on his lips. He had been purposefully cryptic in his summons. “We’ll have to see about your resolve. I mean if you’re already making fun of my attire, then how will you fare with your own?” He slid around you without a passing glance.

“Wait, I wasn’t making fun-” You followed him, but halted when he spun around holding another, equally large hat. “We’re underground!?” You laughed at the absurdity while still taking the accessory.

“When you asked if I built a greenhouse in a sewer, I don’t think you realized to what extent.” He smirked as you donned the hat and he passed you an apron.

For a moment you turned a creased brow to the fabric and then a soft horror built up in your gaze. “You made everything in here…” You swept that fear up to his face. “Should I be wearing sunscreen?”

“You’ll be fine… probably. If I had enhanced the UV-B too much it would become lethal as most things are in excess.” He hummed in response as your wrangled with the collar of the apron. The strap hooked around your hat and trapped you inside. With you struggling under the guise of a mock scarecrow, he had to bite back budding laughter. He reached out to help and froze just as his hands were about to graze you. Hesitating, he wondered if this was something friends do.

“Uh… Donnie, are you still there?” You murmured and stopped trying to wiggle free for a moment.

“Uh yes.” Shaking his head of the internal argument, he opted for trying to keep his touches focused on fabric only.

You were free in a matter of seconds and seemed more mentally disheveled than physically. “Let’s agree to never speak of this.”

“I only speak of blackmail when it becomes pertinent.” He gave a sly grin that you in turn glowered at.

After having correctly donned your protection, you gave him an expectant look. “So, I’m gonna venture to say I’m here to help you?”

Though he was sure it wasn’t the same way, he now understood why you had laughed upon laying eyes on him. The hat and apron were quite a pair. He turned away from you. Friends thinking friends were this cute couldn’t possibly be a thing. “Yes, this way!” He cleared his voice by raising it.

“Mhm?” Your tone was dry.

He supposed someone could only be kept in the dark for so long. “I have a crops of chrysanthemums, lilies, and a particular breed of daisy that…” He turned a row sharply and slowed as a sea of flowers came into view. “…exceeded their growth expectations.”

Having a been a few steps behind, you rounded him and froze by his side when you caught a glimpse of the overflowing beds. “Donnie, what the heck?!”

“So you splice a few genes!” Shuffling slightly away from your proximity, he threw his hands up. “They're finicky. You activate this and it happens to be attached to that and sometimes they release poisonous spores and other times this happens!”

You turned to him slowly with an even gaze.

He wilted under it momentarily before bouncing back. “No one died, there was only minor rashes, and this place is fortified up to code. There is no chance of gene escape!” When you didn’t stop giving him that look he gave a narrowed one of his own. “Do you dare question my scientific authority?”

“I wouldn’t know how…” You turned back to the seemingly increasing number of flowers. “If I, somehow, set all that aside. Why on earth would you want me to help?”

He opened his mouth for what should have been an easy response but snapped it shut instantly. Under duress, his eyes shot wide. Using this as an excuse to prove his friendship skills certainly wasn’t something he could admit and he hadn’t had the wherewithal amongst all the emotional planning to come with a better excuse. He turned his head toward you incrementally and found you you seemingly doing mental math on how best to tackle all the flora. He couldn’t be sure, but he had an inkling that friends might be trusted with more information than siblings. Squinting, an odd realization came to him: almost all the friends he’d ever made had ended up becoming family to him. Snapping his gaze forward, Donatello frowned. How had he spent that whole year knowing you without ever having had to question himself? It seemed like an impossibility at this time. Without much else to go off of, he offered all he had come up with.

“I don’t trust the dum-dums to...” He blinked and bit his lip as joy flooded him. You had inadvertently given him a great out. “… follow protocol. They would surely release these unstable pollinates with one wrong move.” His legs moved in tandem with his mouth as he approached a bed of lilies. “I needed someone who I could trust to follow my instructions to a T.” He’d say he’d passed the audition, but the content he’d chosen to present was still a concern. Clenching his jaw, he waited for a response.

Slowly, he heard the sound of your footsteps as you approached. “If you think I can do, I’ll do my best.”

He blinked and turned a surprised eye to you. That wasn’t quite the reaction he’d anticipated, but at least it wasn’t a negative one. “Alright, so we just gather them all up and burn them!”

“Burn them?” You parroted, dismay on your face.

He had to clench his fist to keep a hand from reaching out to comfort you. “Well, of course. There’s an errant gene. We need to eradicate it.”

“Right…” You seemed even more dejected.

His heart clenched and he had to grip the edge of the planter to keep himself stable.

“They’re just so pretty and you grew them!” You swept that forlorn gaze up to him. “Even if they are ‘defective’ in some way, it’s just another tick on your insane list of inventions. It’s incredible.”

As soon as the words hit him, heat began to spread in his cheeks. He frowned in a desperate attempt to keep it at bay. “Let me just grab the shears!” With an excuse managed, he robotically moved away. Since when did stroking his ego elicit such a response? He usually ate up compliments with no problem. It had to be the hat he decided. It was accentuating your face is a pleasing manner that seemed totally ridiculous. After procuring two clippers, he returned to find you pouring over a particularly large Nippon Daisy. The urge to wrap you up a huge bouquet of them was absurd.

“Where do we burn them?” You asked, leaning back and brushing back the brim of your hat.

He had to shove his gaze into the petals to keep from babbling incoherently. “There’s a small incinerator on the other side of the greenhouse.”

“Small doesn’t seem like a good thing.” You chuckled and approached.

He flinched before realizing you were coming over for your shears. “It might seem like it, but they’ll catch fire pretty quick. It won’t take long.” A faster job meant you'd be leaving sooner, another miscalculation.

“Gotcha…” You accepted the clippers and turned to the task at hand. “So… I just cut them?”

“Allow me to demonstrate.” He swallowed the lump in his throat and stepped up to the daisies. He could feel your gaze bore into him. Grabbing a flower by the stalk, he tried to steady his hand before bringing the clippers up. “Just cut it at a growing point, at this case the leaves.” He then snipped the flower and took it over to a plastic bin he’d already set aside earlier. “You can get a few at a time, but don’t jostle them too much. We’re trying to minimize pollinates.”

“Alright.” You mimicked his steps and showed him your first trimmed flower.

Outwardly he nodded approvingly. Inwardly he was collapsed in a puddle of his own design.

“Why not just pick the whole plant?” You tilted your head as you collected a handful of daisies.

“I’m curious about the seed growth.” Donatello turned to dump his first batch into the bin. “Usually not every single solitary seed is viable, but in this case they were. I’m going to see if this extends to regrowth in an off-season.”

“So even though it was a failure, you'll use it to your advantage?”

“Not really an advantage. It might be good for crop stability with more testing.” He paused to think. “I believe it’s the same thought process as cognitive reframing.”

You both went on to discuss psychology, his other botany experiments, and how your job had been going. The busy work kept Donatello’s distractions to a minimum, but they were never quite gone. You’d say something off the cuff and he’d feel his heart race. Your laugh coaxed his ears and when you’d catch his eye he thought he might have to step away due to his body’s fluctuating temperature. He kept the planter box between the two of you as an impenetrable fortress. If it weren’t for that, he thought, he might give in to one of his delinquent desires to touch you. You finished the daisies and moved on to the lilies. The conversation stayed light and continued to flow as you told a story from a bar one night and he shared another of a mutant he’d met teaching tai chi. Back and forth you made each other laugh until you’d cleared another section. Moving on to the chrysanthemums, your replies grew short. Donatello’s nerves immediately seized. He reviewed the conversation to see if he had let something slip. Finding no anomalies, he panicked and, in a feat he found impressive, he was able to curb his own verbal outpouring. Silence sunk in and he wondered if he should turn on the ambient music that usually floated dreamily in the greenhouse.

“Hey, Donnie?” You mumbled, your voice low.

Tensing around a stalk, he tried to reassure himself of his earlier assessment.

“Our texts go: nothing, the flyer for the fashion show, a thumbs up, and then you asking me to come help you with something.”

“That is correct.” Keeping his head low, his eyes darted around as he tried to guess where you were going. “You also sent your confirmation of attendance and when you arrived. Oh, and I sent you that map.”

“Y-yeah…” You went silent again and the sound of the shears seemed especially visceral.

He couldn’t stand it. The sound was starting to make his skin crawl. “Were you making sure of something…?”

“Sorry... Just working up the nerve." You paused. "That sounds silly when I actually say it out loud.” You gave a nervous laugh.

“The nerve?” He mouthed.

“If we’re gonna go back to hanging out, we should…” You hesitated and turned away, prepared dump your batch of chrysanthemums into the bin. “… finally label this? Get rid of those pesky unknowns and expectations.”

He came within millimeters of cutting right through his glove. Rubbing the leather, his ears were swimming amongst his racing heartbeat. “I haven’t properly apologized yet.” His worries manifested in a dozen questions. Out of his depth, he stuck to the truth.

“Oh.” The sound popped out of you.

Chancing a glance, he found your back still turned to him as you hovered over the discarded plants.

“Honestly, I’d rather you didn’t… At least, not right now. Even if you meant it, it would seem like I was fishing for it.”

He wished he could see your face. “I hear your concern, but I brought it up. It’s something that’s been on my mind, but it can wait if that’s what you want.”

You shook your head. “Yeah, later. For now, what are we?”

His clippers hit the edge of the bed with a little too much force. He watched you jump at the sound. His body moved then. Leaving his flowers behind, he crossed the space. He hadn’t even realized he moved until he was right behind you. “Y/N?”

“Well?”

Now that he was aware of his limbs again, he couldn’t manage to move. “It should be for you to decide. I’ve… done enough.”

“It takes both parties. Don't tell me to do what I want. You should have say.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He frowned and reached out to your shoulder, stopping a hair's breadth away. “I reached out to you. I want to spend time with you. Whatever way you think that’s alright is what I want.”

His heart was so loud it was almost making him dizzy. He knew there were implications to the way he worded it. He’d left the door too open. He couldn’t help himself.

“Can we be friends?”

He urge to wrap his arms around you said no, but his lips said something else. “Yes. We can.”

“Ok.” There was a finality to your voice. “Ok.” The repetition sounded more reassured. “Then I guess we’re friends.”

“We’re friends.” He added to the echo.

You turned then. Donatello’s body seized as he realized you hadn’t yet put down your bundle of chrysanthemums. Instead, you brought them up to your chest and gave him a bright smile. He could feel it. He could feel the mental shutter going off. The image would be cataloged in a special album. You looked ethereal, surrounded by dozens of flowers, a shining beacon in a house of his making. He wished you’d smile at him unabashed like this for the rest of his life. He never wanted you to leave. That was not friendship.

“Right! Now that that’s cleared up. Shall we get back to work?” You gave a passing glance at his still out stretched hand and moved around it to finally discard the bundle of flowers.

“Yes, we need to eradicate the rest.” He stepped aside so you could return to the table. He had far more difficulty weeding to do in his heart. Within his mind’s eye, all he could see was you amongst the chrysanthemums.

He returned to the table and you picked up conversation like you no longer had a care in the world. He pushed to be a competent partner, but part of him refused to focus. It was devastating. Soon the beds were clear of petals and together you brought the bins to the incinerator. He took the lead on preparing and lighting it. Once the fires were stoked, he began to toss in the bundles. It was a brief reprieve where there was little you could do to participate. He vaguely noticed when you had left his side to peruse the greenhouse. Though dampened, he was still glad it was interesting enough to drag you away. Once the flowers were dispatched, he dusted his gloved hands of soot. Adjusting the incinerator to a smolder, he turned to look for you. Instead of calling out, he crept stealthily. Rounding the squash, he found you at the specialty raised planter boxes rowed against one of the greenhouse’s walls. Relaxing his posture, he dropped to a stroll so his presence wouldn’t surprise you. With you occupying his mind, he tried to recall what he had planted in that space.

“What is this?” You murmured, unable to pull your eyes away.

He rounded you and as the flower appeared from over your shoulder, he felt his stomach flip.

Why had you picked that one amongst all others to admire?

“Tulipa gesneriana crossed with Myosotis sylvatica.”

That was enough to drag your attention away from the flower and to him.

“A red tulip and a forget-me-not. It shouldn’t be scientifically possible; they have a different number of chromosomes, but when faced with an absolute I am sometimes pressed to prove it wrong.”

“It’s like ‘incredible’ isn’t enough of a word to describe it, but I can’t think of anything else...” You turned back to the red and blue flower in awe.

You obviously weren’t aware of the language of flowers and for that he was thankful. For him, on the other hand, it meant that he was plagued with the knowledge.

“I don’t know how long it will survive. The fact that it blossomed is a minor miracle. I haven’t been able to recreate the experiment, however, so I won’t be able to publish my work.”

Red Tulip: I declare my love.

“So this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience?” You breathed.

Forget-me-not: I promise to always remember you.

“You could say that.” He was no longer looking at the flower.

Chrysanthemum: Friendship in spite of change.

“Wow…” You smiled to yourself and then turned to him. He watched the light dance in your eyes. “And I didn’t even have to pay admission to see it!”

Could he be anymore in love?

If he was going to make this friendship work then he desperately needed help.

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afreakingdork · 1 year

Text

Crush Too Much - Part 13

RotTMNT Donatello x GN!Reader

Warnings: Longing, Angst, Fluff, Embarrassment, Overbearing Siblings, Aged-up Turtles

FIRST 💜 PREVIOUS

Heartbreak.

It was strange how an ailment he’d been suffering from for well over a month felt so new with a proper diagnosis. Donatello had grown tired of the constant recontextualizing and recategorization of his memories he had been forced to do as of late. The past week had softened the initial blow and he was left with a single clear frame of reference: he was done with preconceived notions. He patted himself on the back for being having had the wherewithal to admit it. Fiasco after fiasco caused by his failure to make judgments on subjects that were far out of his depth had humbled him. That, though, didn’t mean there wasn’t time for research.

Heart·break

/ˈhärtˌbrāk/

variable noun

Heartbreak is very great sadness and emotional suffering, especially after the end of a love affair or close relationship.

Though there was no trace, Donatello had casually lamented the state of his browsing history. The tricky thing about these types of subjects is there is a true testable physiological response, but there is also a myriad of baseless think pieces. Sifting through them was arduous at best and comical at worst. Outside of the digital world, his brothers had retained some shreds of his dignity. He’d found that they’d placed no bets on his realization timeline and they were mostly just glad to have him present. He wasn’t sure if he would have suffered an indignity if they had tried teased him about his denseness. He felt no humiliation. He akined it to ridiculing a child for not knowing how to read if they had never been taught. He simply had nothing to compare it to. He did, however, feel immense guilt over acting out on half-baked assumptions. He prided himself on being a better scientist than that. In that regard, he’d let himself down.

Which was why, he decided, he was no longer going to make anymore guesses. Unfortunately, that ruling also meant he was stuck with different unsolved question: what was the source of his heartbreak? It was undeniably you, but in what way? The online consciences agreed that heartbreak was felt on a spectrum and he could subscribe to that logic. Where his feelings for you landed on that spectrum was a mystery. He’d warped them through a lens of dismissive science to such a degree, he wasn’t sure what was real anymore. It was yet another reason why he fatigued of pouring over the memories. He needed fresh, untainted data if he were to start the study anew. Though he’d come a long way in acknowledging his ignorance, he knew for a fact that reaching out first would be extremely stupid after everything he had done.

Frowning, Donatello stared down a long stretching rack of garments. Several rows over, he spied Mikey stretching out a blazer and squinting over it.

“Explain to me again what we’re looking for?”

There was a loud metallic clank as Mikey forcefully shoved a hanger back into its spot. “Aw, come on, Donnie! Haven’t I explained it a million times already?”

“Yes, it must be me who is failing to understand.” Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Donatello settled on drooping his lids.

Instead of going around, Mikey simply threaded himself through several racks of clothes until he reached his brother. “I need a fabric for the torso that screams ‘shaaazaa!’ Then maybe a thick retro material that kinda had a ‘ba-boo-roo’ thing going for it and, finally, I need something with that oomph factor!”

Each descriptor had been paired with a matching full body gesture. Mikey’s consistency had impressed Donatello, but that didn’t mean they made any more sense to him. “Riiiiight...”

“Glad we cleared that up.” Mikey punctuated the statement with a confirming wink before a pair of pants caught his eye.

“Does ‘ba-boo-roo’ have a English language color name?” Donatello scrunched his nose up from having to use the descriptor.

“It’s more of a pattern.” Mikey hummed, testing the elasticity of the stitching.

“Exasperated sigh.” Donatello mumbled to himself as he stared at the same rack he’d been standing at their entire duration in the store.

Mikey looked past the bottoms and to his brother. Lowering the garment, he made a move as if to grab something from in front of him, but shifted direction at the last moment to elbow Donnie's plastron instead. “Hey.”

“What?”

“You’re helping.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not, having you here helps.”

Donatello turned to give his younger brother the full extent of his doubtful gaze.

“You are!” Mikey threw his arms up, pants trailing the move. “You got up early to come shopping with me right when these stores open.” Looking around them, only a few older women of poor eye sight were milling around. “I probably should have showed you my sketches so you had more of an idea what we’re looking for, but regardless; it’s emotional support!”

“My strong suit.” He could no longer withhold the eye roll.

“Suit…” Mikey rubbed his chin with the fabric. “Great idea! See, you are helping!”

“Michael, we really need to work on your elaboration.” Donatello raised his hand with the point but Mikey hung to pants hanger on the appendage instead.

“You go find three pin-striped suit jackets or…” Mikey squinted and looked to the upper right. “Any pattern that isn’t just blah in preferably a sack silhouette.” Bringing his gaze back, his eyes shimmered with the idea. “Let’s put 15 minutes on the clock, what’dya say?”

“I’d say that’s probably the most in depth instruction you’ve given me all day.” Donatello responded dryly, hanging the pants back up on a rack.

“Great, then let’s go!” The younger brother then disappeared by diving headfirst into a clothing stand.

Shaking his head at the action, Donatello set a timer on his cuff. He then looked up at the large signs that marked each section. Following them with an upturned gaze, he located suits. To accommodate the various lengths and paired items, this section's racks were twice the height of their companions. Turning down the row, he was met with an ocean of blacks and navys. Sighing audibly at the lack of selection, Donatello headed down the line and let an outstretched finger follow along the garments.

As if sifting files, he came to a halt when his digit caught a subtle brocade that barely stood out due to its similarly dark threading. Pulling the item out and lifting it up to eye level, Donatello activated his goggles. A detailed manifest popped up with notes about the cut. With the piece held high in his right hand, he both brought up his left to compare acquisition to time and deactivated his goggles. One suit in under 5 minutes wasn’t a great start, but he could only work with what the store provided. Prepared to continue to search, he lowered the hanger and like a curtain dropping, you were revealed on the other side.

His heart stuttered in his chest.

He stared openly, wondering if he should run. He watched as you compared the sleeve lengths of two jackets, seemingly not noticing his presence. Torn between choices, Donatello felt stuck. He watched your lip purse, unsure, before finally something seemed to spark in your eyes. He leaned his head back incrementally as you turned to him in slow motion.

“Oh, sorry! Am I in your wa-?” Your words dropped off as you let go to the jackets you were examining. “Donnie.”

It felt like his brain was lagging with a spotty internet connection. The page finally began to load. As the information filed in, his first thought was another summation of the chances. Dismissing the possibility of having run into you randomly in New York City on three separate occasions, Donatello swiveled and stretched his neck out to see over the rack. If his younger brother was the mastermind, he wasn’t watching his scheme unfold which was unlike him. Blinking, he realized he’d ignored you in favor of an errant thought. Donatello turned back to find you still waiting, though no longer colored with surprise. “Y/N.”

“Looking for some new clothes?” You gestured to the jacket in hand.

He watched as each little sign of your discomforting body language seemed to note itself as if his goggles were still active. He couldn’t process the information as he was still stuck on the part about how you ended up running into each other. “Absolutely not, the thought of wearing something that someone else wore even if it’s washed?” His lip curled up with distaste. “I’ll stick to regular stores.”

You stifled a snorted chuckle. “You know people try those clothes on too?”

“Trying on is quite different than schlepping off some garms to a thrift store.” He folded his arms and the suit jacket swung with the motion.

“Hm, maybe.” There was an airy quality to your voice that sounded pleasant to his ears.

“Most second hand shops don’t even wash the clothes! I’m just hoping they were deloused.” Noting the fact caused him to scoot away from the rack.

The laughter couldn’t be held back any longer. As you giggled, Donatello could swear the sound resonated with some unknown harmony. “So what are you here for then?”

“Mikey enlisted me into some project.” Though he had moved his feet, he was painfully aware that he couldn’t seem to keep himself from facing you.

“Mikey did?” You turned your head to glance around. “Is he here?”

“It’s a long story. Presumably, he’s around.” Part of him wanted to accuse you of being in league with his younger brother, but a secondary thought reminded him that he wasn’t going to make those kinds of guesses anymore. Plus, since his gaze was trained on you, he had yet to notice a mimed action. “What about you?”

“Oh.” You seemed to remember something. “I’m, uh, ‘filling out my office wardrobe.’”

He watched as your face shifted from sheepish to quoting and then finally to a bright proud smile. Reaching up, Donatello tucked a hand underneath his hoodie to touch his goggles. They were still clicked into their stationary position on top of his head. If that was the case, why did everything around you look so colorful? “Your internship��?” He trailed off trying to recall the sparse notes he’d gotten before you both parted.

Your gaze dipped as you shimmied side to side. When you returned it, you had a sly smile. “’Full time job’ would be a better way to describe it.”

Donatello also wondered why your eyes seemed to be magnified. “They hired you on.” The information was still lagging. “Wait, they hired you on!?”

“Yep!” You chirped.

He finally pinged the harmony as being similar to a birdsong. “Congratulations are in order then!” He clapped around the hanger in his hands. “It is well deserved though I do hope that the employment comes with a moderately higher salary to afford you more than….” He looked around the store to emphasize his point. “This.”

“It does.” You turned away and ran a hand down one of the suit jackets you had been examining earlier. “Starting out is tough though and, unlike you, I think a nice hot wash will clean these up just fine.”

“Unless they are dry clean only.” Donatello tried to clear his throat stealthily in an attempt to stifle the small dip he felt in his stomach from your movement.

“Those are ‘suggestion’ labels, right?” There was a wry tone to your voice that Donatello pegged as goading.

“I see your comedy remains unchanged.” As soon as the sentence left his mouth, his eyes widened. Something about giving voice to the separation felt like an instant taboo. Looking back to you fearfully, he found your shoulders raised slightly in a move which he read as apprehension.

“Is… this really a coincidence?” Your eyes were cast down.

Though the question pricked like a nettle, it was absolutely valid. “Do you remember how suspicious I was when you found me at the food truck park?”

He watched your gaze raise with recognition. “’A little over 9 million?’”

“I swear to you that as far as I know, this is naturally the third time this has happened.”

“That can’t be…” You shook your head slightly in confusion.

“I agree, for locations that we rarely frequent, the probability of it happening is not incalculable, but the numbers are hard for even me to comprehend.” He nodded, his eyes shutting as his mind unconsciously started to do the math.

“I guess it’s not a coincidence then.” There was a tone to your voice that Donatello didn’t recognize so he brought his lids up to find you smiling to yourself. “It must be fate.”

It was only spoken softly to yourself, but something about the sentence seemed to ring loudly in his mind. “I don’t believe in that. I create my own destiny.”

You snickered. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“And what does that mean?” He leaned forward suspiciously.

“Not a thing!” You clucked and used your other gathered garments to create a barrier between the two of you.

Donatello looked down at them, wondering why he hadn’t registered them earlier. Cataloging them in conjunction with the suit jacket you were browsing, he frowned. “You’re not getting that are you?”

“What?” You shifted, looking at your items.

“Give me a quick rundown of your position.” He nodded thoughtfully as you explained and then shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stand for this. The pieces you selected are both under and over dressed and it doesn’t seem like you’re even taking utility into account!”

“Now wai-”

He heard you begin, but the bandwidth was already being diverted elsewhere. Though Donatello himself hadn’t moved far from the original rack, he had been watching Mikey sift through pieces in rapid succession. From those earlier leavings, a few stood out. “Come with me!” He turned and started walking, trying to plot out the shortest course to said clothes without having to resort to Mikey-type short-cut method. “Here!” He grabbed a top and spun around, remembering something else. “And this.”

“Donnie, are you serious?” Your voice sounded a bit distant and when he looked up he found you a whole rack away.

“Yes, just look!” He held up the top he selected and he watched as your expression shifted from confounded to thinly veiled stubbornness with an undercurrent of intrigue. “Shall I continue?”

“Is that my size?” You looked close to stomping your foot.

Something about that made his chest feel tighter than it should in his hoodie.

“What do you take me for?” He threw his hands up, raising the other item he selected into view.

“Glossing over the fact that you know that, I want you to make a note that I’m not super ok with this!”

“I’m sensing a but…?” He drew out the word, just knowing that his prowess was about to be acknowledged.

“But…” You hesitated before slumping with defeat. “I do want to see what you pick.” The statement came out of the corner of your mouth.

Donnie would have jumped for joy had he not seen another piece out of the corner of his eye. “Allow me to curate the wardrobe of your dreams!” His feet began to move and his goggles dropped down to start a running tally. At one point his cuff had an alert, but from beneath the hangers that had moved onto his forearms for the extra real estate, it was silenced. Once he had grabbed what he deemed a suitable amount of clothing, he made one last glance over his shoulder to make sure you were still in tow. He wanted to verbally acknowledge how well you had kept up, but something held his tongue. Instead he steered both of you to the shoddily constructed changing rooms.

“Alright!” He waited until you got the message to take a readied position in front of him before rifling through the garments. “Here’s outfit one, but keep the pants on because they’re going to be a staple piece you can then pair with the next top.” He thrust the clothes into your unprepared arms and used the confusion to snatch away your previous selections.

You rolled your eyes and pulled back the curtain to the changing room. “Yes, sir, Mr. Fashionista!”

“We shall see how that tone fairs once you’ve seen my work!” He snapped back, preparing the next few choices.

After an appropriate amount of rustling, the curtain drew back and you stepped out. “How…?”

“Hm…” He leaned forward, his goggles noting information about cut and shape as you shifted side to side to get a look from all angles.

“Seriously, when did you take my measurements? These shouldn’t fit so well!” There were dueling notes of astonishment and annoyance in your voice.

“Details.” Donatello waved the question off. “There’s creasing along the back.” He watched as you tried to catch a glimpse and ended up spinning in a circle like a dog trying to catch its tail. He tried not to divide his attention from the task at hand, but a fond smile pulled at his lips.

“I don’t think it's a problem.” You stuck your hands out and waved them.

“How do you feel about getting the pieces tailored?”

“Maybe down the road, but not if I can help it right now.” You stopped shuffling around and came to a neutral stance.

“I see.” He added the entry to his data points and passed you the next items. “Swap the top, keep the bottoms.”

You gave him a mock salute with the clothes in hand, causing them to obscure your face as you headed back into the changing room. Donatello shook his head, the smile growing ever wider. It’s not that he hadn’t realized he’d missed the banter; he’d ruminated on it in slivers of time, but being faced with it actively enforced the point. As you emerged from the curtain again, the repartee resumed. It was as if you had never been apart. After passing off the next selection, the moments where you changed felt like a weight. It was within the fragments of silence that the existence of your separation made itself known. It held the enormity of all his failings and the apologies he wasn’t even sure he could truly recompense. In equal exchange, he watched as your apprehension melted away as his grew. After several more costume changes, he’d twisted inward and focused more on cycling through the digital closet inventory for maximum effectiveness.

“These fit right style wise…” Your voice drifted in, signaling you’d emerged once more. “…but the waist needs….” He looked past his display and watched your nose wrinkle with thought. “Like a belt?”

Lifting his goggles, he squinted as he returned to normal view. “It looks like there might have been a matching piece of fabric that should loop here.” He pointed to a small tailored slit in the side of slacks.

“Someone probably lost it. I’m gonna go run and get a belt. Watch my stuff?” You tossed the question over your shoulder as you already started to walk away.

He nodded and returned to his catalog. He vaguely heard you return and disappear into the changing room as he put the final touches on his curation. Nodding to himself, he took a deep breath and shifted his goggles to rub his eyes. “With this you should be able to make 21 separate outfits! Did the belt work out?”

“Oh sure, but I think something else got lost in the shuffle?”

“Pardon?” He watched as you emerged from the curtain in full strut. His jaw laxed as he gazed upon the most garish combination he’d ever seen. You were donning a pair of what looked like shiny latex purple leggings that disappeared into slinky neon green leg warmers on one end and the hem of what could either be classified as a sequined mini dress or top depending on the height of the wearer on the other. On top of that, you’d slipped on an 80's blazer that had shoulder pads so high it was skimming the territory of your ears. He watched as you struck a vogue pose causing the oversized leopard print glasses that were taking up most of your face to jostle.

“I was also thinking hat, but I’m not sure if that would be too much?” From behind your back a large church crown appeared with several flowers and a fake bird sticking out of it. You brought it up over your head, but didn’t quite place it as you waited for his judgment.

Several seconds ticked by and your plastered on smile hadn’t faltered. Donatello bent forward slightly before a loud laugh tore from him. “When did you even-?” He wheezed.

“So, that’s a yes to the hat?” You put it on and made another pose eliciting more laughter from him.

Stumbling forward with amusement, he reached out for an anchor point. He found it in the pad on your shoulder and as soon as contact was made, it felt as if there was a sudden breach of contract. He didn’t feel you flinch underhand, but your gaze snapped to his with metered surprise. The sudden feedback painfully reminded him of the paradigm shift that had yet to be addressed in any way. Still high off the endorphins from the outburst, he retracted his hand carefully and brought it to his chest while clearing his throat.

“It’s…” You started, he popped one eye open from where they had closed to recompose himself. “…ok. I’m glad I was able to make you laugh. You were really getting lost in your head there for a moment.”

Giving you his full attention, he cursed himself for being so obvious. “I don’t know where we stand.”

“To be honest…” You hesitated, a vexed smile on your lips. You glanced up and removed the hat, lowering it in front if you. “I don’t either.” A small awkward laugh bubbled up in your throat. “But, what I do know is…” You trailed off again and looked straight into his eyes.

It was as if the fake flowers from the hat were sprouting all around you.

“I missed your snooty attitude.” Any contention on your lips switched to playful as you leaned forward and placed the hat on his head.

His lids dropped with feigned annoyance as you giggled at his appearance. It was a thinly held veneer because internally he was overjoyed that you had at least offered to crack the door to friendship back open. He reached up, feeling heat uncharacteristically pooling in his cheeks, and pulled the large brim down to mask whatever was passing over his face. “I missed you as well.”

He didn’t have time to analyze the sound you made because another voice emerged.

“I finally found you!”

“Angelo.” Donatello murmured, the memory of his original mission rushing back to him.

“Hey, Mikey.” You shyly responded.

Donatello removed the hat to clear his view.

“Y-Y/N?” Mikey jolted with surprise before taking in your appearance. “Ok, whatever this is is wild, but I am here for it! Are you gonna get those glasses?”

Studying his brother closely, Donatello tried to pick up any traces of nefarious intent. He watched as you waved your hand turning down Mikey’s question before taking off the glasses to pass into his excited hands. If his younger sibling had set any of this up, he was operating on a level of lie that Donatello had never seen. Today really had been an absurd coincidence.

“For the record, your disappearance is forgiven and I’m all for trying new things, but that hat…” Mikey twirled his attention around, bringing a L-shaped hand of thought to his chin.

“Maybe if it were in black and we switched out the sparrow for a motherboard?” Donatello offered wryly as he placed the hat on his brother’s head.

“Crossing styles! Perfection!” Mikey clapped his hands jostling a handful of hangers he was toting.

“I did find one piece.” Donatello remembered the brocade jacket and removed it from the collection of your clothing.

“Woah, look at that design!” There were stars in Mikey’s eyes as he grabbed the piece.

You gave Donatello a small signaling wave and bobbed your head toward the dressing room. He nodded with understanding and you left to change. Gathering up the rest of your clothes, Donatello turned to find Mikey had thrown the suit jacket in with the rest of his picks. “It looks like you faired pretty well without me at least.”

“Can we hit one more store though? I’m looking for a showpiece kind of jacket.” Mikey's gaze was distant as he imagined the garment.

“Sure, but it’s going to start getting busier.”

“This time I know exactly what I’m looking for! Speaking of…” Mikey’s head lead the way as he curved his body closer to the dressing room curtain and raised his voice. “So the two of you are…?”

“Unlabeled.”

“Undiscussed.”

You threw back the curtain in your original clothes and split a smile of agreement with Donatello.

“I see…” Mikey trailed off, his voice thick with understanding.

This time you and Donatello shared a look of skepticism.

“That means you can come to my fashion show!” Mikey bounced as Donatello handed off your clothing.

“Fashion show?” You wondered trying to heave the sudden load.

“I’ll take half.” Donatello corrected himself, separating the lot of hangers into equal parts before shooting a raised brow to his brother. “Practice elaboration, Mikey."

“Oh.” This time a real and more nervous look of comprehension passed over the younger sibling's face. “I was gonna tell the whole fam about it only after I was sure I was gonna get the pieces done in time…”

“Wait, you’re going to make your own clothes?” You lit up.

“Yeah! I’m usually not super into the concept because I’m more about letting your inner best shine, but I met this artist in my woodworking class that reframed the whole thing for me so I’m treating it like a canvas!”

“That sounds great! When is it?” You stepped forward and the group naturally begin to head towards checkout.

“Two weeks from now. Saturday night, I think…” Mikey tried to shift his clothes to one hand and fish out his phone with the other. One top started to fall from the hanger and he scrambled to fix it. “Actually, D will text you the details!”

Donatello lolled his head back before sweeping his gaze to you regretfully. “Is that alright? Don’t let him steamroll you.”

“It should be fine. I think it sounds fun.” You nodded, but he caught the slight note of reservation in your gaze.

“Now I’ll be forced to make the deadline!” Mikey spun around and in doing so took the first place in line at the cashier.

“You still weren’t sure?!” Donatello scolded.

Mikey stuck his tongue out in response and you giggled at the interaction with that same sweet melodic twitter.

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