#rapheal

In your tadc au .

Does gangle donnie have the same love for tommy guns as normal gangle?

Just wanted to know❤️

Bye ,have a great day ❤️

Bay!TMNT x Reader

Hellooooo:) I'm a little Wattpad writer and this is my first story here on tumblr! this is a short story of a nursing student going about life and meeting the turtles, I have a full fan fic on Wattpad about this!

Synopsis: You're Nursing student who moves to New York for a fresh start, but one late-night walk leads her to something impossible, four teenage mutant ninja turtles fighting the Foot Clan. Now you're the only one who knows their secret… and the one patching them up after every fight.

Word count: 4K

Warnings: None!

--------------------------------------------------------

 The streets of New York never failed to fascinate me. Unlike most of the people passing by, I hadn't been raised here. Maybe that was why I noticed everything.

The quiet fragments of conversations drifting from people talking on their phones. The spiderweb-like cracks running through the sidewalks. The strange characters rushing past in every direction, each one carrying their own story.

Where I came from, days like this were something to appreciate.

So while everyone else hurried along without a second glance, I paid attention—to the city, to its noise, to life constantly moving through it.

This particular day was one I knew I wouldn't forget.

I shifted the things in my pockets, feeling for the thin metal keys buried somewhere between loose change and folded receipts. My hands were already full, stacked with textbooks and papers threatening to slide free if I loosened my grip even a little.

Moving to New York hadn't been an easy decision. It meant leaving everything familiar behind, putting miles between myself and my roots.

But it was hard to turn down a full-ride scholarship.

And that was what had brought me here.

My fingertips grazed the cold coil of keys in my pocket. I pulled them out, sifting through the small cluster until I found the one for my front door. The lock clicked, and the door swung open to a cold, empty apartment.

Home sweet home.

I set my books down on the kitchen counter, the stack finally slipping from my arms, and made my way to the fridge. My course load was heavy—too many classes and far too little personal time.

The fridge door creaked open.

Empty.

Of course.

I leaned against the counter, letting out a quiet breath as the weight of everything settled on my shoulders. The semester had only just started.

New York sounded amazing when you told people about it. Until you realized it was just crowded streets and millions of people—and somehow you were still completely alone

I opened my phone, the screen lighting up to the picture of my younger brother on the wallpaper. Just seeing his face made something in my chest ache. I couldn't help but miss my family.

Ever since I'd moved here, my parents called constantly. FaceTimes, texts, quick check-ins—always asking who I'd met, how classes were going, whether I liked the city yet.

Even though the scholarship covered my tuition, they were still paying for everything else. My apartment. Groceries. Plane tickets home. They had sacrificed so much time and money so I could be here.

They wanted me to be enjoying it.

The problem was... I wasn't.

A low growl from my stomach broke through my thoughts, reminding me that I either needed to ask for grocery money or go find something to eat.

Fast food seemed like the only option right now.

I slipped my running shoes back on and grabbed my purse before heading out the door. It was only 8:30 p.m., so most places would still be open—none of them within walking distance of my apartment, though.

I didn't mind the longer walks. In fact, I preferred them. They gave me time to think—to remind myself that this was only a phase in my life. Six months from now, maybe even sooner, I might feel completely different about all of this.

At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

I walked slowly down the sidewalk, trying to decide where I wanted to eat tonight when a sound broke through the noise of the city.

Voices.

Loud ones.

They were coming from above.

I slowed to a stop, glancing up toward the rooftops lining the street.

"Please... listen," a man's voice pleaded, shaky and desperate. "I don't have anything."

My footsteps halted completely.

I couldn't see anyone up there, but I could hear them clearly.

And something about the way the man spoke made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I knew I should have stopped.

I knew I should have kept walking.

But it was in my nature to protect the vulnerable.

For a moment, I debated calling the police. But I didn't even know what was really happening up there. What would I say?

Yes, officer, I hear a man yelling on top of an apartment building.

They wouldn't come fast enough anyway. New York was a big city. Emergencies happened everywhere.

I glanced around the street, searching for some kind of solution—anything that didn't involve me climbing onto a rooftop in the middle of the night.

That's when I saw it.

A fire escape.

I hesitated, my stomach twisting with doubt. Every logical part of my brain told me to walk away and pretend I hadn't heard anything.

But there was no one else around.

Above me, voices drifted down from the roof. Several men spoke in low tones, their words sharp and quick in a language I couldn't understand.

And underneath it all, I heard something else.

Quiet sobs.

That was enough to make the decision for me.

Before I could change my mind, I grabbed the cold metal ladder of the fire escape and began climbing slowly toward the roof.

It felt like a long climb up. Each step creaked faintly beneath my weight, and I did everything I could to move quietly, keeping close to the brick wall and hoping the noise of the city below would hide any sound I made.

When I finally reached the top, I carefully lifted myself just enough to peek over the edge of the rooftop.

My breath caught.

A middle-aged man stood near the center of the roof. He looked like he had come straight from an office—white collared shirt, black tie loosened around his neck, and suit pants slightly wrinkled like he'd been running.

Around him stood four men.

They were dressed entirely in black uniforms, their faces hidden behind masks that revealed only their eyes. Even from where I was crouched, I could see the tension in their posture.

One of them held a bag, digging through it while the others kept the man surrounded.

The man's hands trembled slightly at his sides.

And suddenly, I realized something.

This wasn't just an argument.

"Like I told your boss," the man said, his voice shaking, "it's coming along very slowly. Things like this take time... and effort. I need more time."

He looked up at them, his eyes pleading.

The men surrounding him exchanged glances before one of them stepped forward. He moved calmly, almost casually, before crouching down in front of the terrified man.

"You've had enough time," he said.

This time he spoke in English, though I could still hear the faint edge of an accent in his voice.

Without warning, he grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and hauled him to his feet.

My heart lurched as he dragged him toward the edge of the building.

"Please—!" the man cried, struggling and swinging weakly at the attacker's arm.

It didn't help.

The other masked men simply stood there, watching without moving to stop it.

Then the man was lifted off the ground.

Held over the edge of the rooftop.

My stomach dropped as I looked down past them. The street below was far enough that a fall would mean certain death.

And the man holding him didn't look like he had any hesitation about letting go.

I knew this wasn't going to end well.

If I was going to do something, it had to be now.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I climbed the rest of the way onto the rooftop, stepping out from the fire escape and into the open.

"Hey!" I shouted.

My voice cut through the night.

All four of them turned to look at me at the same time.

For a second, no one moved.

The man hanging over the edge twisted his head toward me, his eyes wide with shock and desperation.

The masked men just stared.

And suddenly, I realized something.

I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do next.

For a moment, none of them said anything.

Four masked faces stared at me.

The man dangling over the edge let out a shaky breath. "Please—" he choked.

My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure they could hear it.

Okay. Think. Say something.

"Uh... you probably shouldn't do that," I blurted.

Great. Brilliant. Truly inspiring.

The man holding him tilted his head slightly, studying me like I was something strange he'd found on the street.

"I have orders to follow. Who are you to intervene?" he asked calmly.

I swallowed.

"Because... because murder is illegal?" I said, wincing immediately at how stupid it sounded.

None of them laughed.

One of the others shifted slightly, stepping closer to me.

"That is not your concern," he said coldly.

"Actually," I said quickly, raising my hands a little, "it kind of is now. I mean... I saw it. So if you drop him, that's witnesses and police reports and... a lot of paperwork for everyone."

My voice wavered near the end, but I forced myself to keep talking.

"Plus," I added awkwardly, gesturing toward the man still hanging over the edge, "he said he needs more time. That sounds... reasonable? Projects take time. I'm a student, I get it. Deadlines are stressful for everyone."

The man holding him didn't react.

The wind tugged at the dangling man's shirt as he struggled weakly.

"You misunderstand," the masked man said quietly. "This is not a negotiation."

"Right," I said quickly. "Okay. Sure. But—hypothetically—if it was, you'd want to avoid unnecessary complications. Like witnesses."

I pointed at myself.

"Which is... me."

One of the men took another step forward.

My stomach dropped.

"That can be solved."

Oh.

That was not the direction I wanted this conversation to go.

I took an instinctive step backward.

"Okay," I said quickly, my hands coming up again. "Before anyone solves anything, can we all just... calm down for a second?"

The man holding the victim looked between me and the others.

For a brief moment, the rooftop went quiet.

Then, from somewhere behind them, a voice cut through the silence.

"Yeah," the voice said casually. "I'm gonna go ahead and agree with her on that one."

I turned toward the voice, but everything happened too quickly for me to make sense of it.

A dark figure dropped from somewhere above, moving faster than my eyes could follow.

In one smooth motion, the man hanging over the edge was grabbed and pulled back onto the roof, tossed safely across the gravel. At the same time, the man who had been holding him was struck hard and sent stumbling backward.

His balance faltered.

Then he went over the edge.

His scream echoed down the side of the building before it was swallowed by the sounds of the street far below.

The remaining masked men shouted in alarm, quickly turning toward the new threat. More shadows moved across the rooftop as figures landed beside the first.

The men in black rushed forward, trying to fight back.

But it was obvious almost immediately that they were outmatched.

The fight was fast—too fast for me to follow properly. Blurred movements, flashes of metal, the sound of fists and bodies hitting the rooftop. One by one, the masked men were knocked down before they could even react.

I stood frozen near the fire escape, my brain struggling to process what I was seeing.

Before I could even think about moving, a hand suddenly grabbed the back of my head, fingers tangling painfully in my hair.

I yelped, my hands flying up as I tried to pry his grip loose, but he was far too strong.

"Let go—!" I gasped, twisting and struggling against him.

I looked around desperately for help.

The rooftop had gone strangely quiet.

The other masked men were sprawled across the ground, unmoving after the fight. Whoever had attacked them had disappeared just as quickly as they'd arrived.

The man who had nearly been thrown off the building was slowly getting to his feet. He looked dazed, stumbling slightly as he rushed toward the fire escape.

He didn't even look back.

Within seconds, he was gone, clattering down the metal stairs and disappearing into the night.

My stomach dropped.

I was left standing there, trapped in the grip of the only masked man still conscious.

Completely dumbfounded.

What did I just get myself into?

My heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst out of my chest. The masked man's grip tightened in my hair, forcing my head back painfully.

"Shouldn't have come up here," he muttered.

"I—I didn't mean to!" I blurted quickly. "I just heard yelling and—"

My words cut off when something moved behind him.

A shadow.

Then a shape dropped silently onto the rooftop gravel.

"Hey," a voice said casually behind him. "Pretty sure grabbing civilians isn't part of the assignment."

The man holding me stiffened.

Slowly, he turned his head.

I couldn't see the newcomer clearly at first. The rooftop lights were dim, and whoever it was stood half in shadow.

But then he stepped forward.

And my brain completely stopped working.

Green.

That was the first thing I noticed.

Green skin. A massive shell on his back. A red bandana tied across his eyes, the ends fluttering slightly in the night breeze.

He was... huge.

And definitely not human.

The masked man clearly realized the same thing because his grip loosened for just a second.

That was all the stranger needed.

In a flash, he moved.

One second the man had me trapped, and the next he was ripped away from me like he weighed nothing. The stranger slammed him into the rooftop with a heavy thud that made me flinch.

The masked man barely had time to react before a fist connected with his jaw, knocking him completely unconscious.

Silence fell over the rooftop again.

I stumbled backward, nearly tripping over my own feet as I stared at the... thing standing in front of me.

He straightened slowly, cracking his neck like the fight had barely been an inconvenience.

Then he looked at me.

"Uh," he said.

I blinked.

He blinked back.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

Finally, my brain managed to produce the only logical response.

"uhm..hi?."

He grimaced slightly.

"hi" he said.

And then, as if that wasn't strange enough, three more figures dropped down onto the rooftop behind him

I felt my legs feel weak. I tried to stay composted as much as i could

Three more figures dropped onto the rooftop behind him.

I stared.

They looked... the same.

Well—not exactly the same, but close enough that my brain was having trouble processing it. Green skin. Huge shells. colored bandanas tied around their eyes. Each one carried weapons strapped somewhere across their bodies.

One had blue. Another purple. The last one orange.

I opened my mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

"...Okay," I said slowly, holding up a hand like I needed a moment. "I feel like I should be a lot more concerned about this than I currently am."

The one with the red bandana crossed his arms, glancing back at the others.

"Told you she saw," he muttered.

The one with the blue bandana stepped forward slightly. His posture was calmer, more controlled than the others.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

It took me a second to realize he was talking to me.

"Huh? Oh—no. I mean—my head kind of hurts from being grabbed but that's... probably normal in situations like this?" I gestured vaguely around the rooftop.

None of them laughed.

The one in orange leaned forward a little, peering at me like I was a particularly interesting science project.

"Whoa," he said. "She's taking this way better than most people."

"Most people faint," the purple one added calmly.

That piece of information did not help.

"Right," I said weakly. "That... feels like a reasonable reaction."

My eyes drifted back to the one who had saved me—the red bandana.

He was watching me carefully now, like he was trying to figure something out.

"Why'd you come up here?" he asked.

The question caught me off guard.

"I heard someone yelling," I said simply. "Sounded like he was about to die."

The turtles all glanced briefly at the edge of the building where the man had almost been thrown off.

Then they looked back at me.

"And you thought," the purple one said slowly, "that climbing onto the roof alone was a good plan."

"...In hindsight?" I admitted. "Probably not my strongest decision."

The one in orange snorted.

Red didn't look amused.

"You could've been killed," he said bluntly.

"I'm aware of that now," I replied quickly.

For a moment, the rooftop went quiet again.

Then blue sighed softly.

"Well," he said, "what's done is done."

He looked back at me.

"Unfortunately," he added, "you've now seen something that most people aren't supposed to see."

My stomach sank.

"Oh," I said quietly.

Right.

That seemed like a problem.

I stood there, completely clueless about what I was supposed to say next. The four of them towered over me, clearly waiting for some kind of reaction—panic, screaming, running away.

But my brain just... didn't have one ready.

"I mean," I said slowly, gesturing vaguely toward them, "I'm definitely processing it. There's just... a lot to process."

The one with the orange bandana tilted his head.

"Honestly, that's fair," he said.

The one with the red bandana shot him a look.

"What he means," the one in blue said calmly, stepping forward a little, "is that this situation is complicated."

"Yeah," I said quickly. "I gathered that."

The one with the purple bandana adjusted the strap of the staff on his back, studying me carefully.

"You're surprisingly calm," he noted.

"I think I'm in shock," I admitted.

That actually earned a quiet chuckle from the orange one.

"Yep," he said. "Classic shock."

My eyes flicked between all four of them again, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I was standing on a rooftop in New York talking to what looked like four giant ninja turtles.

"...So," I said slowly, "are you guys going to explain what's happening here, or is this one of those situations where I just accept that the city is weirder than I thought?"

The one in red crossed his arms.

"You climbed onto a roof to confront armed guys by yourself," he said. "You don't exactly get to ask the questions."

I opened my mouth to argue, then stopped.

"...That's actually a fair point."

The orange one laughed.

"Okay, I like her."

"Focus," the purple one said dryly.

The one in blue sighed softly before looking back at me.

"Let's start simple," he said. "What's your name?"

For a second I hesitated.

"(Y/N)," I said finally.

The name felt strangely loud in the quiet rooftop air.

I blinked a few times, the reality of the situation slowly settling in. As strange as this whole thing was, none of them had tried to hurt me. If anything, they'd saved that man—and me.

The one with the blue bandana stood closest now, watching me carefully.

That's when I noticed it.

A cut along his arm.

It wasn't huge, but it was deep enough that blood was slowly trailing down his forearm.

My eyes narrowed slightly.

"You're bleeding," I said automatically.

He glanced down like he hadn't noticed it before.

"It's nothing," he replied calmly.

I shook my head immediately.

"No, it's not. That should at least be cleaned."

The others looked between us.

"I'm in nursing school," I added quickly, lifting my hands slightly like I was explaining myself. "And that's definitely going to need attention if you don't want it getting infected."

The one with the orange bandana leaned closer to look.

"Ooo," he said. "Yeah, that's a decent slice."

The blue one shot him a look.

"It's minor."

"Minor injuries still get infected," I said, already reaching into my purse. "Especially if you just fought four guys on a rooftop."

The purple-banded one raised an eyebrow.

"You carry medical supplies with you?"

I pulled out a small travel first-aid pouch.

"Future nurse," I said simply. "We're kind of trained to be paranoid."

The one with the red bandana crossed his arms.

"She's got a point."

Blue sighed softly, clearly realizing everyone had decided for him.

"...Fine," he said, holding his arm out slightly. "But make it quick."

I stepped closer, opening the kit.

Up close, he was even bigger than he looked from a distance.

Which was still something my brain was struggling to accept.

I carefully wiped the blood away with a piece of gauze.

"Just hold still," I muttered, focused on the cut.

For a moment, the rooftop was quiet again.

Then the orange one spoke.

"So," he said casually, "on a scale from one to ten, how weird is this for you right now?"

I paused, wrapping the gauze carefully around the injury.

"...Honestly?" I said.

"Eleven."

He grinned.

"So, do you have names?"

I looked up at him while still holding his arm steady. Three thick fingers. Green skin. A shell I was actively trying not to stare at too much.

Stay composed.

One of the first things they teach in nursing school is how to keep a good poker face. Patients can tell when you're shocked, disgusted, or panicking, and it only makes things worse for them.

Right now, I was applying that same rule very, very seriously.

The one with the blue mask looked down at me and spoke calmly.

"Leonardo."

He then glanced back toward the others.

The one with the red mask stepped forward slightly.

"Raphael."

The tall one with the purple mask gave a small nod.

"Donatello."

Finally, the one in orange leaned forward with a bright grin.

"And I'm Michelangelo," he said. "But you can call me Mikey. Everyone does."

I blinked up at them.

Leonardo. Raphael. Donatello. Michelangelo.

My brain took a second to connect the dots.

"...Like the artists?" I asked slowly.

Mikey pointed at me immediately.

"See? She got it!"

Raphael crossed his arms.

"Yeah, yeah."

I finished tying off the bandage around Leonardo's arm before gently letting go.

"There," I said. "Try not to reopen it."

Leonardo glanced down at the clean wrap, flexing his arm slightly.

"...Thank you," he said.

I shrugged a little, suddenly aware that I had just given first aid to a six-foot-tall ninja turtle on a rooftop in New York.

"No problem," I said.

Then I looked between all four of them.

"...So I guess the next logical question is..."

I gestured vaguely at all of them.

"...what exactly are you guys?"

They all answered at the same time.

"Turtles."

"Mutants."

"Teenagers!"

"Ninjas."

They paused, looking at each other for a second before turning back to me, like they were waiting for some kind of dramatic reaction.

I blinked once.

"Okay. Cool."

I finished packing my supplies back into my purse.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Michelangelo open his mouth again.

"So like," he started casually, "you seeing anyone right now or will we be seeing you more—"

Thwack.

Raphael smacked the back of his head.

"Dude."

"What?!" Mikey protested, rubbing his head. "I was asking a valid question!"

Leonardo pinched the bridge of his nose.

Donatello cleared his throat, stepping forward slightly while adjusting the glasses perched on his face.

"Well," he said calmly, "since you are now aware of our presence, it would be... strategically beneficial to have someone with more advanced medical experience available to assist us when necessary."

I stared at him.

"You're asking me to be your... medic?"

Donatello nodded slightly.

"Occasionally," he said. "Assuming you're willing."

Raphael crossed his arms.

"No pressure."

Michelangelo leaned in again, grinning.

"Plus you already passed the test."

I blinked.

"...What test?"

"You didn't faint," he said proudly.

Leonardo shot him a look.

"That's not a test."

"It should be," Mikey argued.

I looked between all four of them.

Four giant ninja turtles.

In New York.

Asking a first-year nursing student to patch them up after fights.

This had to be the strangest moment of my entire life.

And somehow...

It also felt a little exciting.

"...You know what?" I said slowly.

"Sure."

Behind us, the motionless bodies on the rooftop began to stir.

One of them groaned.

Another rolled onto his side.

"Uh oh," Mikey said, smiling awkwardly.

"We need to leave," Raphael said immediately.

Without another word, he sprinted toward the edge of the roof and jumped down.

I rushed to the ledge just in time to see him disappear onto the fire escape below.

Leonardo turned back to me.

"Thank you for everything, Miss (Y/N)," he said, giving a small, respectful bow without breaking eye contact.

"You should probably go home," he added calmly.

Before I could respond, he stepped back and vaulted off the roof, landing somewhere below with a quiet thud.

Donatello followed next, adjusting his glasses as he walked past me.

"Try not to get involved in rooftop confrontations again," he said politely.

Then he disappeared over the edge as well.

I blinked, still standing there as everything caught up to me.

"Yeah... I'll get going," I muttered to myself, heading toward the fire escape.

Behind me, Mikey lingered for a second.

"Well," he said, rocking back on his heels, "guess I'll be seeing you around, shorty—"

"Mikey!" one of the others shouted from below.

"Coming!" he called back.

He flashed me one last grin before hopping over the edge and disappearing after them.

Just like that.

They were gone.

I slowly climbed down the fire escape, the metal ladder rattling softly under my feet as I descended back toward the street.

The city noise returned as soon as I reached the sidewalk—cars passing, distant sirens, people talking somewhere down the block.

Everything looked completely normal again.

I stood there for a moment, staring up at the rooftop I'd just climbed down from.

"What the hell just happened to me?" I muttered.

Because I was pretty sure I had just:

Climbed onto a rooftop...

Interrupted a group of masked criminals...

Given first aid...

This is their first time showing off to a human right? I love how Raph has lock picking skills with his sais and the way he turns to April like heh :) about to show you a cool move. pls I love him so much

It’s Raph‼️

I feel like I always draw him with that adorable smile from that one scene