Azuljoie95 - AzulJoie95

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AN: I have so many stories to write but I had to do this. Blaming being sick, m'kay? Fever has got me bad and these meds got me loopy. Thinking we need some good, silly fun in our lives, right? Plus, now that I've watched Rise, I'm hungry for some big Raph appreciation. I know I ain't the only one

Part 2

All characters are aged up

Raphael x Reader

Warnings: near peril, easily smitten, possible errors due to fever (what kind of fever is up for deliberation🥴)

Cutting right to the chase. You like big dudes. That doesn't necessarily mean muscles, either. You just love you a big man - someone with a bit of something-something to them. More to love, you know? Given your track record with the greater world, it shouldn't be all that much of a mystery. Cats? Get yourself a tiger that you can cuddle into. Jumpers? Comfort central, baby. Beds? If you can't spread eagle then you see no point. The old-age saying does declare that the bigger the better, so who are you to disagree? How true that is may be up for debate but it’s merely as simple as understanding what your preferences are.

However, this makes dating a difficult ballpark to play in. No matter how tall, jacked, or voluptuous someone is, it never feels like enough. Human biology and genetics can only go so far in the conceivably possible sense. You just want to be absolutely engulfed when you get a hug. Is that such a crime? Apparently, it is. Unfortunately, you also seem to come across the worst jerks when you attempt to date within this set of criteria. One might argue it's your karmic justice for being so superficial and picky but a woman has needs. Not those kinds of needs, either. Get your head out of the gutter.

All hope seems lost and after yet again, another failed date, you decide to call it in for the evening and make your way home. A fresh failure and another wonderful outfit gone to waste. By no means is it anything flashy but you put a lot of work into it: pencil skirt, turtle neck sweater, and a nice pair of boots to compliment the look. The whole shebang! All of that effort for nothing. This is the last time you spend three hours doing your hair and makeup. Block after block, your feet grow heavier with every step. What you would give to come across a mountain-like man you can climb who is also a kindred spirit. Perhaps this dream guy will forever be that - a dream. Men like that don't just fall out of the sky.

"Look out!!"

The sudden shout almost scares you into tripping over and you look behind yourself, wishing you hadn’t. Two very large, very dangerous-looking figures entangled in battle, those of which are approaching your helpless little self. You quickly duck as the giants hurdle over you. One falls on its side whilst the other claws and skids against the ground, regaining its balance. It shakes its head and locks onto you, a guttural snarl rumbling past its jowls. Such a creature is surely from the stuff of nightmares. An indescribable nightmare whose sights are set on you. The smart option would be running away but it's as though your shoes have melted into the pavement. Pawing into the tarmac, the beastly thing growls and lunges for you. Great. This is how you die: torn limb from limb by a demon dog. Well, assuming your clothes join you, at least you’ll look like a total babe in the afterlife.

"Oh no ya’ don't," the other one yells from behind the predator, grabbing it by its tail. “Pretty ladies are not food!”

With a mighty tug, he pulls it back and swings it as far away from you as possible. You release a shaky breath, legs trembling beneath you. That was far too close for comfort. The fight isn’t quite over, however. Just as it approaches him, the green goliath swivels on his feet, full 180, and whacks the creature's jaw with a closed fist. His speed alone has you in awe but the force is astounding, practically earth-shattering. It completely knocks the air around you and pushes you onto your backside.

When the dust clears, the first thing you see is your saviour panting, his spiky shell(?) pointed towards you. Just past him in the distance, you notice three more figures in blue, purple, and orange taking a closer look at the unconscious tyrant. You swear one of them pokes at it with a stick. Witnessing strange beings such as this isn't entirely new. Anyone who's watched Chateau Pretenche knows about the celebrity chef turning into a grotesque pigman. To describe it in one word? Horrifying. It's just whether people choose to believe it genuinely happened or if these bizarre entities exist. Being up close and personally observing it now puts your scepticism in check.

As the humanoid turtle calms, he turns to face you, recapturing your attention. A red mask sits over his eyes and there’s a noticeable snaggle tooth poking past his upper lip. Typically, the prerogative is keeping out of sight but it’s much too late for that. He gradually advances towards you. You watch him warily and he keeps his movements slow for that very reason. It wouldn’t be a shock if you were to try and make an escape. He wouldn’t blame you. Currently, all he wants to do is make sure you weren’t hurt during that fiasco provided you don’t suddenly come out of your bewilderment and run off. You have good reason to but he just saved you. Either that or he’s as ravenous as that beast and wants you all to himself. The irrational conclusion remains as such - irrational - when he descends to one knee and outstretches a hand. There’s an irrefutable kindness in his eyes; a caring nature that can’t be replicated in the face of savage brutes.

"You okay?" he asks.

You continue to gawk without a word but, bit by bit, you reach out for his offer. Your fingers lightly trace the centre of his palm before comfortably trusting the proposal. His hand engulfs yours completely and Raph hopes to mercy that you don’t realise how sweaty he’s getting. He can feel his heart beating like crazy. He wonders how much of that is the adrenaline from the fight and how much of it is being in the presence of such a beautiful gal. As he helps you to your feet, he rises to his own. Someone of his stature shouldn’t be capable of being this delicate but he is. It has you running through a loop and you unintentionally stare at the remarkable behemoth.

Quite pathetically, you nod, unable to verbally respond to his question. How can you? You are effectively starstruck. Once you gloss over the turtle-y features, all you see is the sheer size of him as he towers over you. Height, width, the magnitude of those arms! All of it is glorious. You can hear the universe asking, “You want a big man, huh? How about one who isn’t human?” to which you answer, “Who gives a damn?”. If the only way a man can be this big is not to be human, so be it.

Amidst a whisper, your mouth moves on its own, "You're beautiful."

"What?"

"Huh?" Blinking out of your trance, you realise what you’ve said and giggle sheepishly, "I mean, you're be... ba... booming! Totally awesome with the whole- uh... saving thing." Nailed it. 

He blinks right back down at you. This is certainly a first. He can feel his face heating up and he withdraws his hand lest you endure the wrath of his bashfulness, opting to hold the back of his head. At this moment, he seems to look anywhere but you.

"Heh. Gee, thanks." His humility is adorable and you’re glad he doesn’t question your initial statement. He turns to you once more, regaining some composure. "You sure you're okay, though? That thing was pretty scary looking."

It’s clear that you haven’t sustained any physical injuries but even bearing witness to something so unsightly can have lasting effects on one's mind. His brows furrow gently in concern down at you and it occurs to you that there’s a soft heart under all of that shell and muscle. Bonus points. This makes you smile for the first time in front of him and Raphael is sure that the streetlights got brighter.

You laugh fondly, “Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you.” Twiddling your fingers, your lips purse up in his direction.  “Is there any way I can repay you?”

He places his hands on his hips and chuckles cutely, “Just doing my duty, ma’am.”

He may be indulging in his alter ego - the Red Angel of Preventing Harm - but it’s not every day he gets paid thanks when he saves someone. It’s also not every day he gets to save such a pretty woman, either. You, however, can’t just leave it at that. There must be some way in which you can properly thank him. Ulterior motives include getting to know this already loveable lug better but shh. It feels like the odds are finally turning in your favour and you won’t let this slip away from your grasp. That’s when it hits you.

Muttering under your breath, you erratically search through the confines of your little handbag. You are certain that you had one in here somewhere. In the spare pocket maybe? Ah! Found it. Fumbling to take the lid off of your pen, you hold out your hand, gesturing for his. He slowly complies, to which you jot down a series of digits on his palm accompanied by your name and a tiny 'x'. 

"Gimme a text sometime," is the last thing he hears before you disappear around a corner.

Oh? Oh. Ohhh. Wow. Getting your number is the last thing he expected. Did he get hit on the head during that scuffle or something? Was everything from the last few minutes a dream? He bores holes into the writing on his skin, scanning it over and over, scared that it’ll disappear if he so much as blinks. A dumb, wobbly smile not so gracefully decorates his lips as he trudges back to the turtle tank. He takes his seat but it’s obvious that he isn’t all there. Being so caught up in his rose-tinted bubble, he doesn’t register his brothers' voices. In an effort to gain his attention, Michelangelo jumps onto his shoulder, partly intrigued by what their leader is so absorbed by.

"Oh me gosh!” the young brother screams in shrill excitement, “Raph's in love!"

Careful not to smudge the neat ink, he’s quick to hide his hand against his chest. "That's crazy talk!”

Donatello sniffs the air and mockingly covers his nose. "The overwhelming manifestation of your nervous stink indicates otherwise, dear brother."

"I got a girl’s number!” he continues to defend, feeling his face go all kinds of red. “'Course, I'm nervous but that don’t mean I’m in love."

Lies and slander. It was practically love at first sight. He just doesn’t like the idea of his brothers knowing that. It’s easy pickings to be made fun of.

"Don't worry, Big Red. Lucky for you, you got a guy who knows all about the charm." Leonardo points both thumbs at himself as he falls back into his seat and props his legs up on the dashboard. "First, you just need to..."

The "helpful" advice drowns out as the large snapper opens and gazes at his palm again. He just can't comprehend how a gorgeous individual such as yourself could take one look at him and give him your number. It's puzzling but he supposes there’s a first for everything? That also doesn't mean he won't text you. The only thing getting in the way of that is fear. Raphael thinks he’d rather go toe-to-toe with that mutant dog again than have to face the risk of embarrassing himself. To anyone who knows him, it’s no surprise that he caves under pressure. No. He will do it! A chance like this is one in a million.

Oh boy. What could possibly go wrong?

I’m old school I only like women

I don't own the rights to the music. Follow Me. *Blue Boy*

☀️☁️Fontaine Fluff ☁️☀️

Lil' fluff for the middle of the week! 😊

a/n: Fontaine x You (black!fem reader)

warnings: nothing much, cursing, loads of fluff and nonsense, fluff-stash, long fic, may have some mistakes 🫣

One of your favorite things about Fontaine is that he got really romantic out the blue.

Not that he wasn't always doting on you when the chance presented itself, he could just get lovey.

You made a mistake once and called him a romantic. He frowned as if you called him something else, something bad.

A lot of kisses was required to smooth things over, but it was worth it to feel how hot his face was.

It was his quietest unkept secret.

It was his biggest tell and it was your most favorite secret.

You'd gladly be the keeper of it.

He'd turn his nose up at any of the classic titles he found scattered in your home, wanting nothing to do with 'that old shit', but will utter the most heart fluttering things when you least expect it.

How you were his "forever garden," always blooming and beautiful when he's sees you.

About how he was sure God put you there for him because if it were the Devil, Fontaine would have already died for you.

When he found a ratty pile of scrap paper with all of his declarations, admissions, and promises--he bashfully hung his head and handed you a heart shaped tin to store them in.

"I need more, y'know." You teased him and eagerly shook the tin to hear the shifting paper and clips clink around.

Fontaine kissed your hand, "A library never runs outta books, baby. Imma make sure your heart is full."

------

Fontaine will always and forever deny his clinginess.

You can feel it coming in waves, keeping you snug in his arms and feeling you up all over. Putting his hands into your back pockets or up under your hoodie whenever he could. It'd be up to you to escape less you be late for work or any other engagements.

So, you should have saw it coming.

Once you sat down to put on your socks, Fontaine's arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you back into him. It was a hilarious angle and you felt one of the socks you managed to put on get left behind as the Fontaine-Dragon drug you back into his horde of blankets.

"Tell 'em your man said you can't come in."

"Hm. That's very tempting but I don't see HR taking that even in writing."

Fontaine huffed but didn't release you. Sighing, you rolled and rolled until you splayed across his chest.

He was half-asleep and indignant. You pinched his cheek and pouted your lips at him.

"C'mon, you gotta let me up." When he cracked open an eye, you widened both of yours going, well?

"I thought you wanted a working lady!"

"...I meant if you worked for me."

"No you did not!"

It was Fontaine's turn to roll over, trapping you beneath him with a comfortable sigh, "Did too. Now go to sleep."

You laughed because it was wild that this man thought going back to sleep would erase your workplace obligations. You did allow yourself to lay there. What was a few more minutes?

How could you tear yourself away from someone who wanted nothing more than you to stay.

-----

If something kept you away from each other for the day, Fontaine would often think of you.

If you had time to eat breakfast, if your coworkers were stressing you out. If you were bored, if you were angry.

Were you thinking of him as much as he was of you?

To keep the restlessness at bay, Fontaine would pick up things. Bits and pieces that reminded him that he would see you soon enough.

There was a soothing effect of looking over and seeing something in his passenger seat that he knew you would like. If he put a seatbelt over it-- that was just for safety, y'know?

He frequented the Eastside of the Glen where a market place would appear a few days out the week. He remembered when his Ma would take him and his brother there to support her homegirl that sold wigs and shoes.

It felt like confirmation when he suggested y'all stroll there on your first not-date.

He's brought you candles, silly looking hair clips big enough to handle all of your hair comfortably and Girl scout cookies from two different scouts ("I ain't wanna cause no drama, baby, they were twins!"). He found the Copper Man and hurriedly brought you a few bangles with hoops to match before he vanished again for another few weeks.

Fontaine has brought you enough potted plants that he's probably paid off Mrs. Emerald's house and made quite the name for himself as a "doting boyfriend" at the Coney Island that had the only chili dogs you liked eating.

You weren't surprised when you were handed a heavy, noisy tote bag filled with miscellaneous trinkets and snacks after your shift was over. You were called in unexpectedly and you knew Fontaine wasn't happy about it, and it made you feel bad that he missed you so much.

Deciding that you would take the next day off, you began going through his love-horde as told him of your sudden upcoming long weekend that you planned on spending with him.

----

"Saw these an' thought of you"

You gasped and dropped the book pile somewhere on the shelf you called yourself 'organizing'.

Fontaine had that look on his face when you came closer and you narrowed your eyes at him.

Still, the bouquet were gorgeous. Peonies, your favorite flower and one you knew he had to travel to get. All deep pink and fragrant.

Fontaine leaned in to kiss your cheek and nipped your ear lobe, "Pretty n' pink, just like you."

Confused, you looked down at your clothes. You weren't wearing pink today, but when you heard him chuckle--it clicked.

"You scoundrel!" You swatted his shoulder and hid your hot face in the beautiful petals.

-----

Fontaine could be very playful as times. He reminded you of the cute videos of cats walking up to their playmate and hitting them with the skippity-pap before loping away.

It would, more often than not, result in some tusslin'.

When you turned from the fridge and saw Fontaine edging into the kitchen--full you can't see me mode. You hurried but wasn't fast enough to avoid being snatched up.

"No, wait! My juice!" You yelped as your cup was disturbed. To his credit, Fontaine did back off long enough for you to place your innocent apple juice onto the counter.

You tried to skirt past him but Fontaine caught you again with your arms kept to your side. He lifted you off of you feet despite your flailing and skidding feet.

"C'mon now, 'Taine! I still got my fuzzy socks on!

"I know, I know-- I see 'em! It's the only time yo' lil ass is slow!"

"What is even happening?!"

The sternness of your voice was cracked by your laughing as Fontaine tried knocking you over the arm of the couch. You took hold of him and launched you both over yourself.

"Gahdamn, woman, why you fighting me? I'm tryna cuddle!"

"Cuddle? I was minding my own business tryna drink some juice!"

"That's yo' problem right there, always minding your business but not mindin' your man."

"Oop--don't you get out ya pocket, now!"

Tangling, huffin' and puffin'--shocks of laughter as it went to the floor. You had your legs wrapped around one of Fontaine's arms, trying to keep him from using both hands to pinch at your sides.

"I'll snap it off!" You were breathless and a little dizzy, but triumphant.

Fontaine could very well overpower you but judging from his own heavy breathing and mad grin, a truce was more likely.

"Fine, don't cuddle with me then." Fontaine huffed and went ridiculously limp, making you cackle. You saw the mischief all up and through the pout he was trying to pull off and felt him tensing to spring again.

"Oh nah, we gonna cuddle alright! You done made me sweaty and wasted good juice--time for the choke out!"

-----

You both were sitting on your back porch stares, sharing a blunt and watching the starts start to wake.

Your idle conversation stilled into a pleasant silence, listening to the sounds of birds and the neighborhood settling down for the day.

When passing back the blunt, you caught Fontaine watching you with smiling eyes. Fontaine caught your hand and put it to his chest.

"Yours be beatin' like that?"

He spoke to you quietly, as if he didn't even want the clouds to hear and you pressed closer. Wrapping your arms around his waist and putting your ear to his thumping heart.

"Mhmm. Seems to happen all the time these days." You closed your eyes to relish the sound, "Never been like that before."

Fontaine's answering kiss tasted like agreement.

--------

PHHEEEWWW!

TYSM for reading!!! Im trying to get myself back into the swing of writing and not being so serious sometimes, lol! Thank you to all who supported and encouraged me during this drought of mine! Tell me what you think!

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