Silliest

Happy Pride Month!

This month is for every LGBTQIA+ person—whether you're out, questioning, celebrating loudly, or supporting quietly from the sidelines.

Pride is about community, resilience, self-discovery, and the freedom to be yourself. It's a celebration of how far we've come, a reminder of those who fought before us, and hope for the future.

You don't have to prove your identity to anyone. You don't have to fit a certain mold. You belong, and you deserve to be respected and loved for who you are!

To everyone celebrating this month: stay safe, take pride in who you are, and remember that your existence matters!

- This message has been brought to you by a bisexual demigirl 🩷

soooooo imagine the turtles save a kid and their form of saying thanks is making them as game characters!!

(it doesn't have to strictly be rise!tmnt, that's just what i was basing mine off of)

Soo I did more of a 2012 take but it's not really specified!! Thank you for the request!!

The kid they'd saved couldn't have been older than ten.

Tiny backpack. Missing front tooth. The kind of kid who bounced instead of walked.

After the whole incident—some runaway Mouser bots, a lot of screaming, and one very dramatic rescue—they'd expected maybe a thank you card.

Instead, the kid came barreling into the lair a few days later with April.

"GUYS GUYS GUYS LOOK!"

The turtles immediately crowded around the phone.

"...Why do I have anime eyes?" Raph asked.

On the screen was a Gacha character.

A very recognizable Gacha character.

Red bandana.

Green skin.

Twin sai.

A permanent angry expression.

The kid proudly pointed.

"That's you!"

Leo

Leo stared at his character.

The kid had somehow managed to make him look even more heroic.

The pose had a glowing sword.

The background was dramatic.

There were sparkles.

Why were there sparkles?

"Am I... standing on a mountain?"

"Yeah!"

"...Have I ever stood on a mountain?"

"No, but it looked cool."

Leo secretly loved it.

Absolutely saved a screenshot.

Would deny it forever.

Raph

Raph's was hilariously inaccurate.

The kid had made him huge.

Bigger than normal.

Way bigger.

Like comic-book impossible levels of huge.

"Kid."

"What?"

"I ain't that big."

The kid stared.

Then looked at him.

Then back at the screen.

Then back at him.

"They're pretty close."

Donnie and Mikey immediately started laughing.

Raph never recovered.

Donnie

The kid had spent an absurd amount of time on Donnie.

There were goggles.

Headphones.

Tech accessories.

A floating hologram.

Three separate gadgets.

A tiny robotic turtle pet.

Donnie blinked.

"That... actually looks incredible."

"I made the robot myself!"

Donnie immediately sat beside them.

For the next hour they discussed character customization and game design.

The kid left with a list of app recommendations.

Donnie left with a new favorite human.

Mikey

The kid's version of Mikey was chaos.

Pure chaos.

Rainbow effects.

Pizza accessories.

Confetti.

A skateboard.

A pet cat.

A second pet cat.

Nobody knew why there were cats.

"Because cats are awesome."

"YOU GET ME."

Mikey looked genuinely touched.

He immediately changed his lock screen to the Gacha version.

Splinter - bouns

The kid was nervous about showing Splinter.

Very nervous.

"Um... I made one of you too."

Splinter adjusted his glasses.

The character appeared.

Tiny robe.

Tiny walking stick.

Tiny whiskers.

The most adorable little Gacha rat imaginable.

The room fell silent.

Splinter smiled.

A rare, warm smile.

"You have honored me greatly."

The kid looked like they'd just won the lottery.

The Best Part?

A week later the kid came back.

This time with a whole story.

An entire Gacha series.

The turtles gathered around the TV while the kid excitedly played the episodes.

There was drama.

Villains.

Friendship speeches.

Power-ups.

At one point Leo and Raph had an emotional brotherly moment that made both of them immediately cringe.

"WE WOULD NEVER SAY THAT."

"You literally said something almost exactly like that yesterday," Donnie said.

Leo and Raph both shut up.

The kid just giggled and kept playing the next episode.

And honestly?

After everything they'd been through, after all the fights and danger and secrets—

being turned into little Gacha characters by a kid they'd helped was probably one of the sweetest thank-yous they'd ever received.

Even if Mikey's character somehow ended up marrying a pizza slice in Episode 12.

{A Bayverse! Raph x Reader Mini Series}

꒰Estimated Parts - 2-3꒱⸒⸒

The cursor blinks.

And blinks.

Another match found, another loading screen, another thirty seconds of silence from the massive figure hunched at the desk. You scroll past another photo on your phone—some couple you barely know posing at a pumpkin patch, his hand on her waist, her smile genuine—and the knot in your chest pulls tighter.

“He didn’t even text me back about Saturday,” you say into the dim of Raph’s room. The only light comes from his monitors and a string of battered Christmas lights he never took down. “I sent three messages. Three. And he left me on read for two hours. Then posted a photo of his dinner.”

From the desk, a low grunt. The click of mechanical keys.

“Guy sounds like a real prize.”

You shift on his bed, your back against the wall, a pillow bunched behind you. The sheets smell like gunpowder and something earthier, something you’ve never been able to name. “He’s not always like this. I mean. He used to not be.”

Raph doesn’t turn around. The broad expanse of his shell faces you, jagged and battle-scarred, painted with red Japanese characters you asked him about once. He’d shrugged and said, reminders. The crack in his plastron catches the monitor glow, a lightning bolt frozen in dark keratin. His sai sit on the desk beside his keyboard, within reach even now.

The cursor blinks again.

“Used to,” Raph repeats, and even without seeing his face you can hear the sardonic twist of his mouth. “Real convincing.”

“Shut up.”

He snorts. The sound rumbles deep in his chest, something felt more than heard. You’ve known him long enough to catalog his silences and his sounds, the way he communicates in exhales and grunts and pointed lack of eye contact. Two years of Friday nights on this bed, on this floor, leaning against his shell while he cleaned his weapons, while he pretended not to watch the movie, while you pretended not to notice how carefully he handled things that weren’t his brothers.

Two years of pretending.

Your phone buzzes. A notification, finally—but it’s just a game invite from Mikey. You swipe it away and let the phone drop to the mattress.

“When’s the last time he kissed you?”

The question comes so flat, so casual, that it takes a moment to land. Raph still doesn’t turn. His three-fingered hand moves the mouse, clicks, drags something across the screen. The back of his head—that worn red mask tied with trailing tails, the textured green of his skin catching the light in ridges and valleys—gives away nothing.

“What kind of question is that?”

“A question.”

You stare at the ceiling. There’s a water stain in the corner shaped vaguely like Florida. “I don’t know. Two weeks? Maybe three. He was in a hurry.”

“To do what.”

“I don’t know, Raph. Leave. Whatever.”

He makes a sound low in his throat. Not quite a growl. Something adjacent. The keyboard clacks, then stops. The room goes quiet enough that you can hear the distant rumble of a train, the drip of a pipe somewhere in the lair.

Then he swivels his chair around.

You’ve seen him do this a thousand times, but something about it now makes your breath catch. Maybe it’s the slowness of the motion. Maybe it’s the way the chair groans under his weight—six foot six of muscle and shell and barely restrained attitude. Maybe it’s his eyes, that bright goo green, fixed on you with an intensity that usually gets reserved for Foot Clan ambushes and especially insulting pizza orders.

His legs spread slightly as he leans back, arms folding across his plastron. The bandages wrapping his forearms are frayed at the edges. Three fingers on each hand. Thick, blunt, powerful.

“So this guy,” Raph says, tilting his head, “doesn’t answer your texts. Doesn’t make time for you. Doesn’t kiss you. And you’re still callin’ him your boyfriend because…?”

“Because it’s complicated.”

“It ain’t complicated. It’s stupid.”

“You don’t get it.”

“I get plenty.” His voice drops, rougher now, scraping against something lower in his register. “I get that you’re sittin’ here in my room, complainin’ about some loser who can’t be bothered to put his phone down. I get that you’ve been doin’ this for months. What I don’t get is why.”

Heat creeps up your neck. His gaze doesn’t waver.

“You could just leave him,” Raph continues, and there’s something new in his tone now, something that walks the line between suggestion and challenge. “Guy like that? He ain’t gonna change. You’re wastin’ your time.”

“And do what? Be single and miserable?”

“Be single and free.”

You laugh, but it comes out hollow. “Easy for you to say. You don’t exactly date.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. That scar bisecting his lip pulls slightly, a pale line against green. “Nah. Not exactly a lotta takers for a six-foot turtle who lives in a sewer.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure it was.” But he’s not offended. There’s a glint in his eye now, something playful and predatory all at once. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and the size of him becomes suddenly very apparent. He could crush you. Everyone in this room knows it. But that’s not the energy radiating off him now.

“You wanna know what I think?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope.” His grin flashes, quick and sharp. “I think you’re scared. I think you’re clingin’ to this guy ’cause he’s familiar, ’cause bein’ alone freaks you out. But you’re already alone, sweetheart. He ain’t there. He ain’t been there.”

The word sweetheart lands somewhere in your sternum and vibrates.

“So drop him,” Raph says with a shrug, massive shoulders rolling. “Easy.”

“It’s not easy.”

“Sure it is. Watch. Hey, Raph, I’m dumpin’ your ass. Done.”

Despite everything, a laugh sputters out of you. “That’s not— I’m not dating you.”

“Yeah, well.” He leans back again, chair creaking. His eyes never leave your face. “Maybe you should consider it.”

The sentence hangs in the air, dense and ridiculous and somehow not ridiculous at all. Your mouth opens. Closes. The Christmas lights flicker slightly—the wiring in the lair has always been questionable.

“You’re joking.”

“Am I?”

“Raph.”

“What?” He stands up, and the motion is fluid despite his size, that ninja training making every movement economical. Two steps bring him to the edge of the bed. He doesn’t sit, doesn’t crowd you, just stands there looking down with an expression you’ve never seen before. It takes you a moment to identify it.

Patience. Raph, of all people, being patient.

“Let me ask you somethin’,” he says, quieter now. “You said he doesn’t kiss you. What about the rest of it? He hold your hand? Tell you you look nice? Make you feel like you’re the only person in the room?”

Your silence is answer enough.

“Yeah.” He nods slowly. “That’s what I thought.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It’s exactly that simple.” His voice hardens, but not at you. “You deserve better. And I’ve been sittin’ here for two years watchin’ you settle for less, and I’m tired of it.”

Two years. The number echoes. You stare up at him, this impossible creature, this mutant turtle with a short temper and a longer memory than anyone gives him credit for. The lightning crack in his plastron catches the light. His hands hang at his sides, those three-fingered hands you’ve watched break bones and field-strip weapons and, once, very carefully, put a band-aid on your thumb when you’d cut it on a loose piece of metal.

“What are you saying?” you manage.

“I’m sayin’…” He exhales hard through his nose. His jaw works. When he speaks again, the words come deliberate, each one placed like a chess piece. “That guy out there? He don’t know what he’s got. But I do. I’ve known. And if you wanna know what it’s like to be kissed by somebody who actually gives a damn…”

He trails off. Raises one brow ridge.

“I’m right here.”

Your heart slams against your ribs. The phone buzzes again on the mattress—probably Mikey, probably nothing—and you ignore it completely. The whole world has narrowed to the space between you and Raph, the scant inches of air separating your bodies, the impossible offer he’s just laid at your feet.

“We can’t,” you whisper, even as something hungry unspools low in your belly. “He’d— you know he’d lose his mind.”

“Good.”

“Raph.”

“I ain’t tellin’ you to do anythin’.” He spreads his hands, a gesture of innocence that doesn’t match the sharpness in his grin. “I’m just sayin’. You complainin’ about a guy who won’t kiss you. I’m offerin’ to fix the problem. Temporary solution. No strings.”

“No strings,” you repeat, skeptical.

“Unless you want strings.” The grin softens into something almost vulnerable, there and gone. “But we can figure that out later. Right now…”

He takes a half-step closer. His knee brushes the edge of the mattress.

“Right now I’m askin’ if you wanna find out what it’s like. Just kissin’. Nothin’ you don’t want.”

Your throat is dry. Your hands are trembling slightly against your thighs. And underneath the fear, underneath the guilt and the confusion, there’s a bright, sharp flicker of want that you’ve been smothering for longer than you care to admit.

“What if I’m bad at it?” The words slip out before you can stop them. Your face flames. “I mean— he always said— I don’t know what I’m doing, I—”

“Hey.” Raph’s voice drops to something you’ve never heard before. Gentle. Gentle, coming from a mountain of muscle and scar tissue. “Look at me.”

You do.

His eyes hold yours, unwavering. “Whoever told you that’s a liar. And I’m gonna prove it. But only if you say yes.”

The lair settles around you. Somewhere distant, Donnie’s equipment hums. The train rumbles. The Christmas lights flicker.

You take a breath, nodding carefully.

2003 TMNT With Their Extremely Shy Human Sister

At first, everyone assumed she'd grow out of it.

She didn't.

If anything, she got worse.

Not because she disliked people.

Not because she was rude.

She was just painfully, catastrophically shy.

The kind of shy where someone says "good morning" and suddenly her entire brain shuts off.

April

By now, April had accepted that catching a glimpse of the turtles' sister was basically a rare wildlife sighting.

Some days she'd visit for hours and never see her once.

"Is she even here?"

"Yeah," Donnie would answer casually.

"Where?"

A pause.

"...Somewhere."

Because she absolutely was.

Just hidden.

April would occasionally hear a door softly click shut somewhere down the hall.

Maybe spot the edge of a sweater disappearing around a corner.

Once she walked into the kitchen and found a half-made sandwich abandoned on the counter because she'd heard April's voice from another room.

The poor girl had retreated immediately.

April never pushed.

If she happened to see her, she'd just smile.

"Hi."

And immediately the girl would freeze like a deer caught in headlights.

Tiny wave.

Head down.

Quiet "Hi..."

Then she'd speed-walk away.

April honestly found it adorable.

Casey

Casey took it personally at first.

"Why does she run away every time I show up?"

"She runs away from everyone."

"Even April?"

"Especially April."

Casey was baffled.

"Kid, I've known you for like three years!"

The girl would immediately hide behind Leonardo.

Casey throwing his hands up.

"SEE?! SHE DID IT AGAIN!"

The turtles thought it was hilarious.

Leonardo

Leo worried about her.

Not because he thought something was wrong.

Just because she looked so uncomfortable all the time.

Whenever visitors arrived, he'd notice her quietly disappearing down the hallway.

Every.

Single.

Time.

"April's here."

Gone.

"Casey's here."

Gone faster.

Eventually Leo stopped trying to force interactions.

Instead he'd casually check on her.

"You okay?"

A nod.

"You don't have to hide, you know."

Another nod.

Five minutes later she'd still be hiding.

He learned that her simply being in the same room as everyone was already a huge accomplishment.

So he celebrated the little victories.

She sat with everyone for ten minutes?

Great job.

She spoke an entire sentence?

Amazing.

She asked Casey to pass the chips?

Leo was ready to throw a party.

Raphael

Raph pretended not to care.

Pretended.

In reality?

He was her biggest protector.

Because occasionally people would make comments.

"Why doesn't she talk?"

"Is she mad at us?"

"Does she hate me?"

And Raph would immediately shut that down.

"Nah."

"She's just shy."

Simple as that.

No explanations needed.

If someone pushed too hard, he'd get annoyed.

"Leave her alone."

Because he knew the second attention got focused on her, she'd want the floor to swallow her whole.

Sometimes he'd bring food to her room after guests arrived.

"You skipped dinner."

"..."

"Take the pizza."

"...Thanks."

Then he'd leave before she got embarrassed.

Donatello

Donnie understood her the most.

Not because he was quite as shy.

But because he understood social exhaustion.

He noticed all the little things.

The way she'd wait until everyone left before getting water.

The way she'd memorize footsteps.

The way she'd peek around corners before entering rooms.

One time he found her hiding behind a bookshelf because Casey unexpectedly walked into the lab.

"...Why?"

She covered her face.

Donnie sighed.

"He's literally making coffee."

She remained behind the bookshelf.

"Okay."

Donnie just continued working.

Eventually she emerged twenty minutes later.

Michelangelo

Mikey was the only one capable of getting full conversations out of her.

Not because she wasn't shy around him.

Because Mikey simply talked enough for both of them.

She could sit quietly while he rambled for an hour.

And somehow that worked.

"Guess what happened today."

Tiny shrug.

"I found a pigeon."

Pause.

"It stole my bagel."

Tiny smile.

Mikey immediately gasping.

"THAT WAS A SMILE!"

And she'd instantly hide her face.

"Mikey!"

"GUYS SHE SMILED!"

Cue the poor girl disappearing for the next two hours.

When Everyone Is In The Living Room

The funniest part?

Everyone knew she was there.

She thought she was sneaky.

She wasn't.

April would see a blanket lump on the far end of the couch.

Casey would hear footsteps behind him.

The turtles could literally smell her nearby.

But nobody acknowledged it.

Because the second attention landed on her—

Poof.

Gone.

So instead they'd all act normal.

Letting her quietly exist on the edge of conversations.

And over the years, Casey and April learned something important:

Even if she never talked much.

Even if she hid.

Even if she kept her head down.

The fact that she chose to stay in the room at all meant she trusted them.

And honestly?

That made every tiny wave, every quiet "hello," and every shy smile feel like the biggest achievement in the world.

{Fem! Reader, not smut but he definitely wants that cookie}

The kitchen was dark when you slipped inside, the faint glow from the hallway the only light cutting across the counters. You had barely taken two steps before a low growl rumbled from the shadows. Asch moved fast—his massive frame blocking the doorway, horns almost scraping the top of the frame as he advanced. He was bigger than you in every way, shoulders broad enough to dwarf you, and he used every inch of it now.

He grabbed your wrist and spun you, pressing your back hard against the counter edge. The cool surface bit into your spine while his chest pinned you in place. His hands were already roaming, one sliding up your side, the other gripping your hip with possessive force. He leaned down, ivory horns bumping your forehead as he buried his face against your neck, inhaling deep.

"You reek of him," he snarled, voice rough and low. His fangs grazed your skin, then nipped sharply, leaving a sting that made you gasp. Asch didn’t stop there. He licked the spot, then bit again, harder, sucking to mark you. His tongue traced over the fresh bruise before he moved higher, lips and teeth working along your throat until he reached your lips. Sealing his own over yours, his tongue laving against your lips to gain entry. Licking into your mouth like you were his favorite flavor.

"Mine," he muttered against your lips, the word vibrating through his chest into yours. "You’re mine, prisoner. Not some other male’s. Mine." His hands tightened, one sliding down to squeeze your ass, pulling you flush against the hard line of his body. You could feel every thick muscle, every ridge of his daemos frame pressing you tighter to the counter.

Asch’s horns knocked against you again as he tilted his head, mouth claiming more of your neck. He kissed, sucked, and nipped in quick succession, fangs scraping without breaking skin yet, but the threat was there. His breath was hot, his grip unyielding. One hand slid up under your shirt, claws tracing your ribs while the other stayed locked on your hip, holding you exactly where he wanted.

"You don’t get to leave without telling me," he growled, lips brushing your ear. "You come back smelling like another and expect me to be okay with that? No. You’re staying right here until every trace of him is gone." His mouth returned to your neck, kissing and biting with renewed intensity, practically devouring the skin there. His body caged you completely, bigger, stronger, and he made sure you felt every bit of him.

i don't remember if you've written about reader being vern's sister, (so if you already have dw about it), but i'd love to know how he'd react to her liking the turtles!

[timeline would be after shredder but before kraang]

-♡

Here! Here! Wonderful anon, have this offering! I've been slow with writing and some things might take a little longer since we've been having big storms and tornadoes but I wanted to get this out. I am working on another request as well but this one was pretty quick since I already had a good idea.

So personally, Vern would be such a menace about it.

Mostly since Vern goes from "guy who accidentally got tangled up in turtle business" to basically being part of the extended family. So if his younger sister starts getting attached to the turtles? He's going to have Opinions™.

When Vern First Notices

At first, he thinks it's innocent.

Maybe Reader asks questions.

"So... how tall are they exactly?"

"Do turtles sleep standing up?"

"Does Donnie really build all that stuff himself?"

"Do they have birthdays?"

And Vern doesn't think much of it.

Until he catches her smiling at a picture on her phone.

A picture of the turtles.

Specifically one turtle.

Vern narrows his eyes.

Reader immediately hides the screen.

Vern gasps dramatically.

"OH MY GOD."

"No."

"YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON A TURTLE."

"I DON'T."

"YOU DO."

Denial Phase

Reader spends weeks denying it.

Vern spends weeks making it worse.

Every time a turtle is mentioned:

"Oh, look who's blushing."

"I'm not blushing."

"You absolutely are."

"I literally am not."

"You wanna hold hands with the giant turtle."

"VERN."

When He Learns Which Turtle

His reaction depends entirely on who it is.

Leo

Vern sighs.

"Okay, that's fair."

"What does that mean?"

"He's basically a mutant prince."

"He's not a prince."

"Tell him that."

Donnie

Vern immediately starts laughing.

"Oh this is bad."

"What?"

"You're gonna sit there listening to science words for three hours and think it's romantic."

Reader throws a pillow at him.

Mikey

Vern looks genuinely concerned.

"You know he eats things he finds on the ground, right?"

"Vern!"

"I'm serious!"

Raph

Vern freezes.

"...Raph?"

Reader says nothing.

Vern points.

"No."

"What?"

"No."

"You don't get to decide that."

"Nope."

"Why?"

"Because he could throw a car."

The Turtles Finding Out

This is where Vern's survival instincts disappear.

Because he absolutely tells them.

Immediately.

Without hesitation.

The second he gets the chance.

The turtles are hanging out.

Reader is somewhere nearby.

Vern walks in.

Sits down.

Looks at them.

Looks at Reader.

Looks back at them.

Then casually says:

"So my sister has a crush on one of you."

Silence.

Reader nearly dies on the spot.

Leo's Reaction

Leo almost chokes.

"What?"

Reader is covering her face.

Vern is enjoying this way too much.

Leo immediately becomes awkward.

Not because he's upset.

Because now he knows.

And now he doesn't know where to look.

Donnie's Reaction

Donnie blue screens.

Literally freezes.

The poor guy just stares.

Then slowly points at himself.

"Me?"

Reader wants the floor to open up and swallow her.

Mikey's Reaction

Mikey loses his mind.

"WAIT, REALLY?"

He immediately starts asking questions.

"What does she like about us?"

"How long?"

"WHO IS IT?"

"Mikey, stop helping."

Raph's Reaction

"Vern."

Dangerously calm.

"Yeah?"

"Why would you tell me that?"

Vern immediately realizes he may have made a mistake.

Secretly?

Vern is actually pretty protective.

He jokes constantly.

Makes Reader want to crawl into a hole.

Embarrasses her every chance he gets.

But the second someone says something genuinely mean?

He's done.

Because that's still his little sister.

If Reader actually started dating one of them?

Vern would never stop complaining.

Not because he hates it.

But because his brother-in-law being a seven-foot mutant turtle is objectively the funniest thing that's ever happened to him.

"Nobody at work believes me."

"Good."

"I showed them pictures."

"VERN."

"They thought I photoshopped them."

And meanwhile the turtle in question is standing there wondering how Vern somehow became more annoying after finding out.

I hope you enjoy anon!! I've seen others do this type of thing and I love that I got to put my own twist on it! Love you guys!! ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა

Could you possibly do a pet 2 for Caught in the Act where all the turtles show reader what they like (with a bit of teasing) and then they do an anatomy lesson on the reader??

Thank you! Ozone out!- 🛸

Soo I don't love this, I couldn't really figure out what felt right but I suppose this shall do. And I apologize if this wasn't your vision. Also pretty short so I apologize for that as well! ૮(˶╥︿╥)ა

Caught in the Act {Part 2}

This is technically smut with poly reader and turtles so please be aware!!

Raph carried you into the main area of the lair with that same easy strength, your legs dangling as he set you down on the wide training mat they'd cleared for this. The others were already waiting—Leo standing with arms folded, Donnie adjusting his glasses with a faint flush on his cheeks, and Mikey bouncing on his heels like he could barely contain himself.

"She was studyin' us," Raph announced, voice low and amused as he kept one big hand on your shoulder. "Nature docs. Notes and everything. Figured we owe her the real version."

Leo stepped forward first, calm but with that possessive glint in his eye. He crouched in front of you, massive frame blocking everything else. "You wanted to be prepared," he said, voice steady. "Good. But research only gets you so far." His hand came up, fingers tracing the edge of your jaw before sliding down to your collarbone. "Lesson one starts here."

He leaned in, pressing a slow kiss just below your ear, then lower, lips brushing the hollow of your throat. His tongue flicked out once, tasting skin, and you felt the vibration of his quiet rumble. "Neck and shoulders are sensitive for us too," he murmured against you. "Light pressure here makes everything tighten up." His teeth grazed lightly, not biting, just enough to make your breath hitch. "See?"

Mikey was next, sliding in from the side with a grin. He didn't wait for permission, just hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you against his plastron. "My turn!" His hands roamed lower, palms sliding over your ribs before settling on your hips. "You were takin' notes on shells, right? Watch this." He guided your hands to the edges of his own shell, pressing your fingers there while he nuzzled into your hair. "Circular motions, slow. Feels like sparks. But for you..." He flipped the script fast, fingers dipping under your shirt to trace the same patterns along your sides. "We get to find your spots."

Donnie approached with that analytical focus, tablet in hand at first before he set it aside. He knelt, eyes scanning you like data points. "Size difference affects nerve distribution," he explained, voice clinical even as his hands moved with precision. One large finger trailed down your arm, then across your stomach, pressing just enough to map reactions. "Human skin here is thinner. More responsive to temperature changes." He demonstrated by blowing a soft stream of air over the spot he'd touched, watching your reaction with satisfaction. "Noted."

Raph took over last, pulling you back into his lap on the mat. His hands were rougher, more possessive, but careful as they lifted your shirt higher. "Enough talkin'. Time for the real anatomy lesson." He exposed your chest, calloused thumbs circling your nipples in slow, deliberate strokes. "These get hard quick. Sensitive to tongue and teeth." He demonstrated, leaning down to lick one, then suck gently while his free hand slid between your thighs, cupping you through your pants. "And here..." His fingers pressed firmer, rubbing in circles. "We learn what makes you wet."

The others watched, adding their own touches—Leo's hands on your shoulders keeping you steady, Mikey's fingers tracing your spine from behind, Donnie's precise taps along your inner thighs to test responses. They teased with words too: Leo murmuring about how small you felt under them, Mikey laughing softly about your little gasps, Donnie noting the flush spreading across your skin, Raph growling approval every time you squirmed.

Raph's hand slipped inside your pants finally, fingers sliding through your folds with no hesitation. "Tight," he rumbled. "Gonna take time to stretch you right." He pushed one thick finger in slow, curling it while the others kept their touches light and exploratory. "Feel that? That's us learnin' you."

They kept it going like that—teasing strokes, mapped touches, whispered observations—until your body was trembling from the attention, every inch of you studied and claimed under their hands.

Like they’re on a date for valentines or hanging out

Abso-stinken-lutely! I love holiday requests!!

2003 Donnie x Human Vigilante Reader {Fem!}

The rooftops were quieter tonight.

Not silent—New York was never silent—but quieter.

A cold February breeze swept across the buildings as you sat on the edge of a rooftop water tower, legs swinging gently over the side.

Below, the city glittered with thousands of lights.

Beside you, Donatello was very pointedly pretending not to be nervous.

Which was funny considering you'd fought alien invasions together.

"Donnie."

"Hm?"

"You've checked that basket six times."

"I have not."

You raised an eyebrow.

The turtle paused.

"...Five."

You laughed.

The tip of his snout darkened slightly.

"Sorry. I just wanted everything to go right."

You looked down at the picnic basket sitting between you.

A rooftop picnic.

On Valentine's Day.

With a mutant ninja turtle genius who had spent an entire week secretly planning it.

Your heart melted a little.

"Don."

He glanced over.

"It already is."

For a moment, the city seemed to disappear.

It was just you and him.

Then Mikey's voice echoed from somewhere in the distance.

"DONNIE'S ON A DAAAATE!"

Donnie immediately buried his face in his hands.

You nearly fell off the water tower laughing.

"Ignore him," Donnie groaned.

"I can't."

"Please."

"You can literally hear him from three buildings away."

A second voice joined in.

Probably Raph.

"QUIT YELLING, DUMBASS!"

"LOVE IS BEAUTIFUL, RAPH!"

Donnie looked like he wanted to throw himself off the roof.

You scooted closer and bumped your shoulder against his arm.

His expression softened instantly.

"You know," you said, "this is actually kind of nice."

"The yelling?"

"The fact that they care."

Donnie sighed.

"I suppose."

"They're your family."

"They're embarrassing."

"Both can be true."

A reluctant smile tugged at his face.

You reached over and intertwined your fingers with his.

For a second, Donnie froze.

Not because you holding his hand was unusual.

It wasn't.

But sometimes he still looked surprised that you chose him.

The brilliant, awkward turtle who spent most of his free time covered in machine grease.

You squeezed his hand.

His grip tightened around yours immediately.

Comfortable.

Warm.

Safe.

"Whatcha thinking about?" you asked.

Donnie glanced at the city before looking back at you.

"You."

Your heart skipped.

"That's cheesy."

"I know."

"Very Valentine's Day of you."

"I know."

You grinned.

He grinned back.

Then his expression became thoughtful.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

Donnie looked down at your joined hands.

"When we first met, I honestly thought you were going to disappear."

"What?"

"You were a vigilante who worked alone. You trusted nobody. You jumped off buildings without warning."

"Still do."

"You absolutely still do."

You snorted.

"But then you stayed."

His thumb brushed gently across your knuckles.

"And now I don't really know what I'd do without you."

For once, you had no teasing response ready.

No joke.

No sarcastic comeback.

Just warmth spreading through your chest.

You leaned your head against his shoulder.

"Good thing you don't have to find out."

Donnie's smile became softer than you'd ever seen.

"Good thing."

The two of you sat there watching the city lights for a while.

No villains.

No missions.

No world-ending threats.

Just a Valentine's Day spent together.

And for a guy who regularly dealt with interdimensional disasters?

Donatello decided that was probably the best gift he could've asked for.

Bonus-

From another rooftop:

"Should we leave them alone?" Leo asked.

"No," Mikey replied immediately.

"Definitely not," Raph agreed.

The three brothers continued spying from a completely obvious location while shouting at the couple occasionally to embarrass Donnie.

-♡

i'd like to request for a reader who is dating the turtles (or just one if you're not trying to write a whole lot) and they've made out but haven't done much else due to the differences, but reader had a great idea to watch documentaries on how turtles are.

reader's literally just studying turtle anatomy, alone and peaceful to be a good partner, and they get caught.

you can decide how that goes further, whether there be an actual smut moment or not!

(sorry if it's rushed and doesn't make sense!)

-♡

Caught in the Act

Warning!! ⚠️- Seriously. Read this before you read the rest of this! This has a poly reader and turtles. It is said that reader is dating all of the turtles. Raph is the main interaction but it is said all of them! If you are uncomfortable with this please skip this! This isn't quite smut but it is suggestive! Please be aware of these things before reading!!!

Part 2!! - finished! Feel free to check out!

The lair was quiet for once.

Mikey was topside grabbing groceries with Donnie, Leo was meditating in his room—or pretending to, more likely—and you had the main area to yourself. The old couch creaked as you settled in, laptop balanced on your knees, a notebook open beside you filled with messy scribbles.

You'd been dating them for a few months now. All four of them, in your own arrangement that somehow worked. The kisses were electric, the cuddling perfect, the way they handled you like something precious made your chest ache. But things hadn't progressed past heavy makeouts and wandering hands, and you knew why.

The size difference was intimidating.

Not just height—though at 5'2", everything about them was massive. But the anatomical differences. Shells, plastrons, the way their bodies were built so differently from humans. You wanted to be a good partner. You wanted to know what felt good for them, what to avoid, how to navigate the ridges and plates and sensitive spots without fumbling like an idiot.

So you'd done what any determined person would do.

You watched nature documentaries.

Specifically, turtle anatomy documentaries. Tortoise mating rituals. Box turtle courtship behavior. A surprisingly detailed deep-dive into the sensory organs of aquatic turtles that had led you down a two-hour rabbit hole.

The current video was playing softly—a British narrator explaining the cloaca and its role in reproduction for certain species. You were taking notes furiously, tongue poking out in concentration.

"Okay, so… sensitive areas around the tail base… plastron tapping as a courtship signal… noted, noted…"

You didn't hear the heavy footsteps behind you.

You didn't notice the massive shadow falling over the couch.

"Whatcha watchin'?"

You screamed.

The laptop went flying. You caught it—barely—clutching it to your chest like a shield as you twisted around to find Raph standing behind the couch, arms crossed, one brow ridge arched high. He was just there, silent as a predator, and the smirk on his face told you he knew exactly what he'd interrupted.

"N-Nothin'!"

He snorted. "Bullshit. Heard the narrator talkin' 'bout cloacas."

Your face went nuclear red.

Raph leaned over the back of the couch, his massive arm reaching past you to grab the laptop from your shaking hands. You tried to hold on, but he was Raph, and you were a tiny human with noodle arms. He turned the screen toward himself, eyes scanning the video.

A nature documentary. A diagram of a turtle's internal anatomy. Your notebook full of detailed observations.

His expression shifted—surprise, then something softer, then a deep, rumbling chuckle that vibrated through the couch.

"You been watchin' turtle porn to get ready for us?"

"It's not porn! It's educational!"

"Educational," he repeated, deadpan. He scrolled through the video timeline, landing on a section about shell sensitivity. "Uh-huh. And what's this part about?"

You buried your face in your hands. "I just wanted to be a good partner, okay?! I don't know how to—how to touch you without hurting you, or what feels good, or if there's—I don't—"

Warm, calloused fingers pried your hands away from your face. Raph had moved around the couch, dropping onto the cushion beside you, his massive frame making the whole thing tilt. He set the laptop aside, then hooked a hand under your knees and lifted, pulling you onto his lap like you weighed nothing.

"Hey." His voice was rough but gentle, a tone he didn't use often. "Look at me."

You did, eyes wet with embarrassment.

Raph's scarred face softened. He cupped your cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear.

"You're adorable, y'know that?"

"I'm mortified."

"Same thing." He huffed a laugh. "Baby girl watched nature documentaries to figure out how to fuck her mutant turtle boyfriends. That's the sweetest, dumbest thing I've ever seen."

You groaned, trying to hide your face in his chest, but he held you firm.

"Nuh-uh. Look at me."

You did.

Raph's expression was serious now, dark eyes holding yours.

"You wanna know how to touch me? You coulda just asked. I woulda showed you." His thumb traced your lower lip. "But this… this is cute. You went out of your way to learn for us. That means somethin'."

He reached down, grabbing the notebook from where it had fallen. He flipped through it, reading your cramped handwriting, the little diagrams you'd drawn.

"Plastron sensitivity," he read aloud. "Recommended approach: light pressure, circular motions." He looked at you, a slow grin spreading. "You even made notes."

"Stop reading that!"

"You got a whole section on tail handling. 'Caution: don't pull, support from base.'" He chuckled darkly. "Smart. Real smart."

He closed the notebook, setting it aside, then turned his full attention to you. His hands settled on your waist, squeezing gently.

"Tell you what. You did all this research for us. Seems only fair we return the favor."

His voice dropped, low and rough.

"Wanna put that knowledge to the test? I can teach you exactly what those documentaries left out."

He didn't push. Didn't pressure. He just waited, eyes locked on yours, giving you the choice.

When you finally nodded—small, shy, but sure—Raph's grin turned sharp and warm at the same time.

"Good girl."

He lifted you easily, carrying you toward his corner of the lair, the notebook and laptop left forgotten on the couch.

"First lesson," he murmured against your hair. "My shell's sensitive along the edges. Light touches there make my whole body shiver."

He paused at the entrance to his space, looking down at you with something vulnerable beneath the bravado.

"Second lesson: you don't gotta study alone no more. We'll teach you together. All of us."

He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"When you're ready."

-♡