#rosemarylovert

“Are you serious?” He asks, his voice low, almost a whisper. He needs to know that you really mean it, that you're not messing with him.

He sees you playing with the hem of your sweater as you lower your gaze and bite your lip, in your typical way of showing anxiety or embarrassment. Which almost makes him smile because he's the naked one who was caught masturbating, you have nothing to feel bashful about.

You nod, then look up at Raphael again. “Yeah, I mean. If you want."

Want? Wanting it doesn't even begin to convey how he feels right now. If he wasn't terrified of making the wrong move, if this wasn't the first time that a girl, that you, showed interest in him, he would have already grabbed you and pushed you onto the mattress like he did so many times in the safety of his dreams. He's always been impulsive; everyone in his family has repeated to him over and over again how much he lacks patience and how many times he messed things up because he acted without reflecting. Yet now he feels stuck, unable to do something. Raphael never lacked courage, and he has always been faster with his body than with his brain, but when it comes to you he's afraid. You can’t even begin to imagine how scared he is. More than when he had to fight Shredder alone, more than when he, his brothers and April were falling from the Sacks’ Tower, more than when he had to jump from that stupid airplane. Vin Diesel helped him that time, but he for sure can’t help him now. You are more terrifying than a leap into the void. And this time he doesn't even have a parachute.

“Of course I want it," he breaths out, his eyes never moving from you, waiting for you to rethink your decision and walk out the door or take another step towards him. Everything is in your hands: what happens next, his dignity, his heart. Do with it as you please; he has long accepted that if there's one person he'll bow his head for, it's you.

You hesitate for only a moment before approaching him. Every step you take toward him makes his heart beat a little faster. When you finally reach the bedside and sit next to his leg, Raphael feels that if it doesn't slow down, sooner or later it will explode.

"Were you... Thinking about me...?" You ask.

This time, he's the one looking away. “I… Yes, I was.” He wonders if you're thinking about how pathetic he is right now. The big brute who shouts at everyone and never backs down from the most dangerous threats is reduced to a small, weak, trembling man in front of the woman he loves. The fact is that, deep down, there's nothing more threatening to Raphael than the idea that you might think something negative about him, that you might realize how undeserving of your person he is and that you'll walk away. But he's also a selfish man, Raphael. He doesn't think that he's good enough for you, but at the same time he wants to keep you right by his side, all for himself.

"And what I was doing, in your imagination?" While you ask this, he feels your fingertips graze the skin on his leg, the most gentle touch. His eyes settle on the hand that you placed there, watching it. You pass every ridge, scale and texture that you can find, softly, slowly, exploring his skin with your palm, and the sensation makes him hold his breath. The complexion of your hand contrasts with the green of his, he notices, and your softness clashes beautifully with his roughness. He wonders if you like it, how different you two are. He knows that he does.

He says your name. "You're killing me, you know that?" He doesn’t have the guts to actually respond to your question, to tell you what you were doing in his mind while he was fingers deep in his cloaca. His guilty hand is still open in front of it, covering it from your eyes.

Your hand travels upward, towards the inside of his thigh, closer to where he needs it the most, unhurried. Will you remove his hand once you get there? Or will you wait for him to do so by himself? What will you think when you see up close what he looks like down there? Raphael now can really feel himself trembling, made small both by the sensations you incite in him with your closeness and by the realization that in real life, unlike his fantasy, you could reject him. You must feel it too, because you stop your journey without breaking the contact and you look up at him. You must have read every insecure and scared thought behind his expression because you feel the need to confess to him: “I thought you knew that I liked you. More than as a friend."

"… What?" It’s the only thing that he’s able to say, dumbfounded by your words. You like him? Like like him? You?

"Come on, I’m not really that subtle, I'm glued to you all the time." You chuckle a little. “I had the impression that maybe you didn’t feel the same or that maybe you were more comfortable with just a friendship at the moment, so I never pushed too hard. If I knew that you thought about me this way I would have tried to flirt better, to show you more clearly my feelings for you.” He almost wants to laugh at his own stupidity, because now, looking back on all the times you spent together, he can clearly see how much you craved his presence and his touch, how your eyes always lingered on him, how you always went out of your way to be in his personal space in a way that a simple friend wouldn't. He's always thought of himself as a good observer, Raphael, and he is when it comes to other people's business, but when he gets too involved, he has to admit, a veil of uncertainty clouds his vision. A veil that is not completely lifted, because he still struggles to believe what is happening right now and what you are revealing to him.

He sees you look down at his still-covered private parts, before returning your eyes to his face. Your expression maintains your mix of sweetness and amusement. “I also know what you look like down there, for the matter. I asked Donnie to give me a mutant-turtle anatomy lesson. And it doesn’t bother me, like at all. I’m actually-“ You pause, biting your lower lip before smiling with rosy cheeks. “I’m actually really curious about it.”

Oh.

“You asked Donnie about this? Why?”

Your face glints with a new light, almost sultry. You get a little bit closer to him, your hand on his thigh slides higher in turn. “Well, I needed to know how to picture you in my own fantasies.” Your voice is low, but it echoes in his ears louder than ever. You had fantasies. Fantasies about him. He pictures you naked in your bed, in the darkness of your room, your hand between your legs in the exact position you found him in before, as you moan his name, imagining he's the one making you feel good. A sound escapes his mouth at the sight. Did you really desire him just as much as he desired you?

“I still can't understand how, why.” He admits out loud. Your eyes soften.

With the hand that’s not on his thigh, you reach for his cheek. You place your palm there and caress him with your thumb. “You think too little of yourself, Raph. I wish you could see how amazing you are in my eyes.” Looking at the reflection of himself in them, Raphael begins to believe your words. He's never seen himself better, framed by the color of your irises, with the affection you poured into them swirling all around him. That's why he finally stops doubting, breaking free from his mental paralysis, and decides to take action. He brings his clean hand to the back of your neck, pulls you close to his face, and kisses you. And oh god, your lips are softer than he imagined. He doesn't know what he's doing, but he hopes all the rom-coms he's been secretly watching will help him move in the right direction. When you open your mouth and let his tongue in, he finally gets the answer he's been looking for. He finally knows what you taste like, how you feel. It’s way better than whatever daydreaming he had before. Nothing could have prepared him for this sensation, for the wetness and the warmth and the love that you’re pouring into him with your lips.

Not to mention the offer you made him earlier still echoing in his ears, when you opened the door and found him there, touching himself with your name coming out of his mouth. The thought of going all the way for real has him becoming lightheaded, but Raphael also thinks that if you decided to stop with just that kiss now, he'd be happy anyway. After all, you've kissed him, you've confessed your feelings, you’re his now — or at least he hopes so —, all of that is more than enough, more than what he thought he deserved.

But then you moan into his mouth, the scent of arousal he'd smelled from you before becomes stronger, harder to ignore, and your hand that was still on his thigh grabs the one still between his legs and moves it away. You pull away from the kiss and Raphael pathetically tries to follow you as not to break the contact. You slip away from his attempt anyway, getting up from the bed.

He doesn't have time to think about what you're doing because he sees you take off your sweater and realizes that you're undressing. That he's going to see you naked for real. You take off your shoes and pants immediately afterward, under his attentive gaze. He can't help but drink in all your curves, all that skin you're showing him, gulping down every detail like water after hours of dehydration. And when you also take off your bra and panties, truly remaining completely bare in front of him, Raphael can't help but hold in a breath, before exhaling heavily.

You join him again in bed, this time in the same position he was imagining you in before, kneeling between his legs. Your eyes rest on his cloaca, now in plain sight before you. Its slit is still open and puffy, showing you exactly where the green of his skin under the last scutes of his plastron becomes a dark reddish purple, glistening with the fluids of his arousal. He feels a little shy under your observation, but the look that you have painted on your face — pure and raw desire — helps him feeling more confident.

Your eyes move to his face again. You smile at him, then you push him down onto the mattress with a hand and sprawl over him with your entire body. Your breasts are pressed against his plastron, your arms are around his neck, your mouth on his again in a wet open-mouthed kiss. His hands come up and cling to your hips, and yes, finally, finally he can touch you the way he has always wanted.

“Tell me what to do, how you want to continue,” you say between a kiss and the other and, fuck, he can feel your pussy moving on top of his cloaca, humping him lightly, wetting him with your own fluids too.

Fuck, you’re wet. He made you wet. And you’re grinding over his sex searching for your own pleasure, using his body, and it feels good, so so good—

That would be more than enough to get off, but he wants, he needs, to feel your fingers inside him for real, before dropping his cock on your hand.

He tells you so, adding a please because he also needs to let you know how much all of this is affecting him.

You comply, sliding a hand over his plastron until you reach his folds. And then it happens: you insert two of your fingers deep into him. They are thinner and shorter than one of his, they don’t even fill him like one of his, but it feels so much better because it’s you, they’re yours and you’re touching him in the most vulnerable part of himself.

“Is it good?” You ask. Your breathing has become labored, demonstrating that you are not indifferent to what is happening either. He groans, letting his head fall into the crook of your neck, because ‘good’ doesn’t come close to what he’s feeling. He takes the opportunity to take a deep breath of your scent, there where it's strongest, and churrs begin to flow from him without him being able to stop them. “So good, so good. Don’t stop, please.” He feels your fingers pumping into him faster, rougher, just like he wished you to do.

He’s not going to be the only one to take pleasure, though. So he finds your pussy with one hand and he starts to rub your swollen clit with his fingertips. You moan at that and he revels in the knowledge that he is the one making you feel this way, the only one making these pretty sounds come out of your mouth, the only one who can touch you there.

His churrs become louder just as your fingers find the head of his cock. “Let me drop, please, I’m close.” You smile, kissing the side of his mouth with affection, saying that he doesn’t need to beg, not today at least, maybe another time, and Raphael can only think that fuck, you really want to do this with him again.

You remove your hand, stickiness clinging on your fingers, and his cock springs free from his casing, right between your bodies. You make him stop his ministration on your folds too, getting on your knees again to see. He watches you while you observe his cock: the same reddish purple of the inside of his cloaca, the spade-shaped head, the way it gets larger towards the base, the darker veins that run through it. He knows that he’s big, ‘difficult to insert without a lot of preparation’ kind of big, so he waits for you to decide what to do.

Your hand, the same one you used to finger him, wraps around his shaft, barely able to close around it. Raphael groans as you pump him a couple of times, slowly, like you’re testing both his reaction and how it feels on your palm.

Then you make eye contact with him and the vision of you there, disheveled but so so beautiful, jerking him off and looking directly at him, is almost enough to make him come on the spot.

“I don’t think I’m prepared to take you yet, but-“ You rest his shaft on his plastron, then you resume your initial position, straddling Raphael before lying on top. This time, however, your pussy is right above his cock. You rock your hips against it, one time, testing how it feels for both you and him. You both moan at the sensation and so you keep rocking against it, again and again. “I want to come and I want to make you come, Raph. My gorgeous, perfect, Raphael.” You end the sentence and he feels delirious at both your words and your movements.

As you start to grind over him harder, faster, he grips your hips again and pushes you even closer to himself. He starts to meet your moves with his own, churring right beside your ear, chasing his pleasure but, most importantly, making sure that it feels good for you too.

Raph Raph Raph, he hears you whine as you find the right angle that makes your clit rub perfectly over his cock and god, he doesn’t know what he likes more: the feeling of the impending orgasm he is about to have or the fact that you’re feeling good because of him.

“So good, Raph. You’re so good, so handsome, so perfect for me.” You praise him, wrapping your arms around his neck, clinging to him with all your might and please, please tell him more of those words, tell him that he’s good and pretty and enough because he only believes it when you’re the one saying it.

“I love you,” he let out, unable to stop himself. “I love you, I love you, I love you”. Your scent, your body, your wetness, he feels you all around him and it’s so overwhelming but also nothing has ever felt better and been more perfect. He holds you tighter and when he feels you arch your back and come before him, he loses it completely. He finds your neck with his mouth and bite there, hard enough to leave a mark but not enough to hurt, and he comes too, staining your belly and his plastron with white.

Now, the only thing that can be heard in the room is the sound of both of your breathing. Raphael stares at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling against yours to steady his heartbeat. All of this happened. It really happened. You and him, together. Fuck. Raphael only notices that his cheeks are wet when your hands press against them, wiping away his tears with your thumbs.

“Crybaby,” you call him, and he would be offended if the look on your face wasn’t pure honey, with that smile that makes all your features shine and those eyes that still look at him like he’s the best things that ever happened to you.

“I’m not,” he grumbles, nuzzling into your neck, even though he knows that is kind of true. He notices the mark that he has left there and his lips open to kiss it, not because it hurts but because it’s the proof of what you have done together.

You chuckle and then you settle more comfortably on top of him, showing no intention of moving from there, which is completely fine because if Raphael could, he would always keep you there in his arms, never letting you go away from him.

“What are we, now?” He asks, voice soft, because he needs to be sure where you both stand.

“I’m yours,” you whisper against the skin of his head, and it feels good hearing you say that. “You’re mine,” you add, and this feels even better. “We’re a couple.” One of your hands caresses his face, lulling him to dreamland. He falls asleep happy, Raphael, because he knows that when he opens his eyes, you'll be there, still with him.

ෆ an: i don't think i'm good at writing smut tbh, but i tried. i hope raphael is well-characterized. some might think that i made him too soft, but looking back at the movies: bay raph is soft. he's the softest of his brothers and he's the crybaby of the family, or at least that's my interpretation. some people tend to only see his anger but the truth is that bay raph (but every raph, really) is not the angry one: he is the emotional and the sensitive one. also, i think bay raph is the raphael closest to rise raph, personality wise. gosh i love him so much! it took me a week to write this second part, because writing smut is hard for me sigh, so i hope it's good enough and that you enjoyed it!♡

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Raphael doesn't remember the exact moment he started seeing you in a different light. For almost a year now, you've become a constant presence in his family's life. He finds you wandering around the lair more often than not. Not to mention — and he can't quite explain why — the fact that you seem to prefer spending time with him in particular. Which is odd because Michelangelo would be a much better company than him, and as much as Leonardo and Donatello are two nerds too preoccupied with their own solitary interests, they could converse with you much better than Raphael. Yet you keep circling around him, seeking him out, approaching him.

Especially when Raphael is working out in the room he's set up as a makeshift gym, which happens every evening at the same time because Leo has instilled in him the idea that having a daily routine is important. During these moments, you sometimes observe him sitting in the corner while he's lifting weights. And you talk to him. You tell him about your day, about the latest movie you saw, about something stupid Mikey did that made you laugh, and Raphael listens. Often he doesn't know how to respond, limiting himself to a few scattered comments, but you don't seem to mind. Or at least he doesn't think so, since you continue to keep him company despite his limited eloquence. In these cases, your voice becomes the new background music for his workouts, replacing his usual playlist. And Raphael will never tell you, but he's started to prefer the sound of your chatter to his favorite songs.

Other times you don't feel like talking and you stay in your corner reading a book or scrolling on your phone. Raphael enjoys these moments too, because just having you near him makes him happy. He's always had a turbulent and angsty soul, worsened by the silence and the lack of different stimulation that keep his thoughts occupied, but with you the storm in his head has learned to quieten. And when you're not with him during his workouts, or when he's not working on the Turtle Truck with Donnie — with you passing him the tools, or when he’s not together with his brothers watching TV — with you choosing exactly the spot closest to him to sit, Raphael has started to feel your absence like he's never felt with anyone else.

And to have thoughts. Thoughts he's never had before. He wonders what you're doing, if you've eaten, if you're happy, or if he needs to come and beat up someone who's wronged you. But they don't stop there, no. He doesn't remember when, but his mind has started to wander to corners he's never explored before. Raphael is a little ashamed, truth be told. He thinks he's doing you a disservice, tarnishing you with the fantasies that have recently begun to flood his mind. But at the same time, he can't help it; he can't stop.

And he thinks, he remembers, he dreams.

The memory of your scent clogs his nostrils even when you're not with him, and he imagines being able to smell it directly from the crook of your neck, rather than only fleetingly when you pass by.

The memory of your skin under his palms makes his hands itch, and he imagines feeling its softness under his fingertips as he clings to your bare hips, seeing the reaction his caresses and his touch elicit from you, rather than contenting himself with simply grabbing your shoulders when you stumble and he grabs you to steady yourself.

The memory of your lips curling into a mischievous smile when you team up with Mikey to play a prank on someone makes him wonder what your mouth tastes like, and he imagines what it would feel like if he ever kissed you.

He can't deny it, Raphael. He has fallen in love. Which is the worst thing that could ever happen to him, because he's a big, ugly, mutant turtle living in the sewers, while you're the most beautiful woman to ever walk on earth. He's already resigned himself to the fact that you'll never feel the same. It wouldn't make sense. It's impossible. And that's okay. As long as you continue to spend time with him as a friend, he's fine keeping his feelings locked away in a safe deep inside his heart.

That doesn't stop him from continuing his fantasies, from indulging in his dirty little secret when he's alone in his room.

Raphael, naked in his bed, slides his right hand between his legs and touches his already wet and puffy cloaca with a finger, caressing its edges before inserting it inside. As he does so, your image appears behind his closed eyelids. He imagines you naked, bare before him, kneeling on the bed in front of his private parts. He wonders what you would think of it. If him being different from human men down there would disgust you. Or if… you would be attracted to it. He grunts and imagines his finger being two of yours as he begins to slide in and out. How would you touch him? Would you be impatient and rough like him? Or slower and more delicate? Would you give him what he wants right away, or would you take your time until you've reduced him to a delirious begging mess? He inserts his other finger, leaving only his thumb out, while his other hand grips the pillow behind his head tightly, and he can't help but moan your name as they touch the head of his cock, almost ready to drop.

"Yes, Raph, I'm here. Are you okay?" Your voice reaches his ears along with the sound of the door swinging open. Raphael freezes as he opens his eyes and turns his head around. And you're there, wide-eyed, frozen in place by the sight before you.

Covering your eyes with your hands, you apologize, and Raphael wants to scream, sink into the earth, erase himself from the universe. But all he does is remain still like an animal in the headlights, ready to be hit by the car that caught him there, defenseless.

"I just got here and I was passing your room and I heard you call me, I'm sorry, I didn't think—" you continue to apologize sincerely. Raphael wants to cover himself, ask you to get out, to forget everything you've seen and heard, lie that he didn't say your name at all and that you misheard, that it's not what it seems, yet he can't do any of it. His lack of reaction makes you pull your hands away from your eyes, and Raphael sees them move from his face to his hand still deep into his cloaca and then back to his face again, your cheeks growing redder and redder.

"Shit, I—" Raphael snaps out of his shock. He sits up, the hand that was gripping his pillow now rubbing his face. It's too late to cover himself, so he doesn't even try, he just pulls out his fingers and keep the hand open down there, the stickiness on them the only visual evidence of what he was doing. "This isn't how I imagined things would go," he manages to sigh, looking at you apologetically, hoping it would be enough for you to take pity on him. He doesn't know what else to do. He guesses that your friendship is now irreparably ruined and that from now on you'll start avoiding him. He doesn't blame you, even though his chest hurts at the thought of not having you around anymore.

“Do you want me to… Do you want me to help you out?” You ask, bashfully, and Raphael thinks he must have died of shame and ended up in purgatory because there’s no way you actually said those words. Maybe this is a test, and if he can resist temptation and pull himself together, he’ll be forgiven for all his sins and allowed into heaven.

It’s at this moment that he notices your scent. Raphael can smell it, stronger than ever, a fragrance he’s never smelled from you before. You’re aroused.

Raphael is still processing what he heard and what his nose picked up, but you don’t wait for him to give you an answer before taking a step forward and closing the door behind you. You don’t move any further, though. You just stand there, a little unsure now, your glossy eyes never leaving his.

And oh, he's going to hell, alright.

ෆ an: i’m sorry for cockblocking you. i started this last night before falling asleep and i got back to it this morning, but i'm not completely happy with the result. i just couldn’t wait to post something for bay raph too, so i published it unfinished. but i plan on writing the sex part too, i swear i'm going to, sooner or later! if there are errors let me know, i didn't proofread and i have no beta! i also updated my wips and ideas post if you want to check what i'm working on and what i plan to write in the future!♡

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Sometimes you hate the image your mirror reflects of you.

You think this as you look at yourself standing in front of it, wearing only your underwear, scrutinizing the way your belly protrudes from the edges of your panties and the light marks they leave on your skin because they’re too tight around your pelvis. Then you set your eyes on your thighs, too close together, no space to prevent them from touching and rubbing against each other, and the dark stretch marks peeking out from within. You pass one of your hand on top of them and you picture your fingertips being erasers and those marks just a bad sketch made with pencil. Everything would be easier if this were the reality and you could correct the wrongness of your body, cancel and redraw everything the way that you like from head to toe, with just the swipe of your palm.

Summer has always been your enemy: the unbearable heat, the mosquitoes, the sweating with every movement, all things that you hated. And on top of all that there was this: having to show off that body of yours that you just didn't like, but that at the same time you couldn't make it change.

You turn to the right, trying to see how you look from the side and then from behind. You sigh as you see your belly getting even bigger and rounder and the way your back hasn't been spared from accumulating fat either. If at least it had gone towards your butt instead of the shoulders you would have been a bit lucky, instead your ass was still small compared to the rest.

You turn around again, in the same position as before, and as you stare at your chest, you think about what you can wear so you don't die because of the heat but also without showing your wrong curves too much, a frown painted on your face. The only consolation is that at least your tits are great.

Two large hands that caress your hips and then interlace above your navel lead you outside your head and back in your room. You look up and now the mirror also reflects that hulking boyfriend of yours behind you. “Are you admiring how beautiful you are?” he asks, his voice sweet as ripe peaches, as it always is when he talks to you. His chin drops to rest on your shoulder and a smile spreads across his face. The softness in his eyes, pure affection and admiration intertwined among their colors, is almost enough to lift your mood. Almost.

“I wish. I’ve never seen myself uglier than today…” You close your eyes for a moment and let your head fall onto the hard planes of his plastron, leaning against him, searching for the comfort that only his presence can give you. You feel his arms tighten around you, and then his hands return to your hips to spin you around. Now you're face to face with those eyes that made you fall in love so much and that, incredibly, always sent the same love back at you. It's funny: your reflection there, surrounded by the brilliance of those irises, seems so much more beautiful.

“Hey. Don’t say that about my girlfriend.” The warning in his tone is held hand in hand with a hint of amusement. Then his real hands cup your face, caressing the skin of your cheeks with the thumbs. He’s serious now. “You’re gorgeous. You always have been and always will be. You’re perfect for me. I need you to believe this.” There’s a pause. He waits for your response, but you don't know what to say, because in the voice of this handsome turtle-man who for some reason gave you his heart, there's not a single shred of deceit or courtesy, but only what he truly believes in. And if he's convinced of this, what's stopping you from starting to think the same way? The fact is that, shedding years of insecurities and comparisons is never that easy.

He reads the uncertainty in your gaze, because you're not really an open book, but his favorite for sure, the one he’s read a million times, memorizing every lines, and can now recite without even opening the pages. "I can prove it to you, if you let me." His hands move from your face to your hips again, and just a moment passes between him pushing you against his body and his mouth latching onto yours. You know where he wants to take you, you know how he wants you to learn to love yourself, and you can't wait to let him do it, to abandon yourself to the care and devotion he's offering you. Knowing that this body of yours that you really don't like makes your beloved's head spin, is perhaps enough to make you like it more, enough to not want to change it anymore.

bonus headcanons! how each of them would react if you told them you wanted to lose weight (cw: mention of dieting, working out and sex):

ෆ leonardo: he doesn't have a preference for your physical appearance; he's attracted to you and loves you, and he'll continue to do so regardless of your weight. that said, he'd hate it if you wanted to lose weight because you didn't like yourself, but he'd be very supportive if you simply wanted to learn to live a healthier lifestyle. in the latter case, he's already willing to drag you to his workouts (running, stretching, self defense training etc), even the 5am ones, especially because that way you'll become stronger and be able to stand up for yourself. he's already on a pretty strict diet (not counting pizza) because he's one of those people who considers his body a temple, so he'll stick by your side and make sure you stick to your diet plan, too. be careful! If you give him the okay at the beginning, he'll be very strict and controlling and will constantly keep an eye on you. very useful if you're someone who gives up easily and with little to none discipline (like me cough), but can be exhausting and create tension. the sex will be bomb though cough.

ෆ raphael: the idea that you don't like your body devastates him. he's very insecure about himself, and the idea that you, his favorite person and the girl he considers the most beautiful in the world, might feel the same way about yourself eats him up inside. and he loves the fact that you're chubby, why do you want to change it!? does he need to remind you how perfect you are, how much he likes every single piece of you and how lucky he is!? he'll also want to know if someone specific caused you to not be comfortable in your skin. if that were the case, it wouldn't end well for that person, he can assure you of that. that said, starting to work out and eating better is never a bad idea, so he'll be there to help you. like leo, he'll drag you to his workouts and will be your personal trainer, guiding you through every exercise, especially to make you stronger and build your muscles. unlike leo, however, he'll be much more permissive about everything. or rather: he can't say no to you. so you better have an iron will, because as soon as you give in to temptation (like skipping a day or more than one for no reasons, for example), he'll let you. i mean, sex can be cardio too no? you did train after all, hah! cough. if you want, he'll cook all your meal!

ෆ donatello: he has the same opinion about leo, so if you're confident in your decision and you promise him to never tell something bad about yourself ever again because you're perfect and he loves you, you'll have his support right away. he's ready to be your personal nutritionist, creating a diet tailored just for you that allows you to eat well without giving up anything. it's important to eat the right foods and the right portions, but it's also important to leave room for the foods you love! donnie has one of the biggest sweet tooths, and if you are like him, he'll understand your pain in having to limit sweets. and, i'll tell you more, he's willing to make the effort to limit them himself for your sake. he'll look for delicious, healthy recipes to make your sacrifices more bearable (raph will cook them), and he'll remind you that you can still eat your favorite snacks when you really crave them! don't rely on him for physical activity though; aside from the obligatory ninjutsu training he does with his family and all the patrols topside, he doesn't move his ass from the chair in his lab.

ෆ michelangelo: screaming, crying, throwing up + falling to his knees, begging you not to do it. i'm mostly joking, but he hates the thought of you not liking yourself and losing weight, for real. he genuinely prefers you if you're chubby. he loves all your curves and your softness, not to mention the fact that your boobs are bigger this way (pardon him, he's a simple man). he doesn't understand how could you not like the way that you look. but if you're sure you want to lose weight, he'll obviously support you in the end, but sometimes he will look at you with puppy eyes hoping that you'll change your mind. mikey is a very active person, so he'll be more than happy to get you to exercise, play sports, or work out with him. and most importantly he'll make sure those will be fun activities used to spend more time together, activities that you'll want to do because he'll make them enjoyable, and not just boring exercises that you’re forced to do. but don't rely on him to help you go on a diet: he'll tell you he wants to start one too for moral support, but ultimately he'll fail and start snacking and eating junk foods again, and he'll be a bad influence for you too lol.

but the most important thing with each of them is: if you get tired, change your mind, or don't get the results you hoped for (because sometimes dieting and being active is not enough), each of them will be there to remind you that you're beautiful just the way you are, that they love you, that in their eyes you're perfect, and that being healthy and pretty doesn't mean being skinny.

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Imagine your back resting against Raphael's plastron while he holds your legs open with his own. You're both on his bed, sitting near the edge with you in front of him, naked from head to toe. He has one of his hands on your breasts, the other on your sex as he works two of his fingers in and out, his palm brushing over your clit. The only things that can be heard are your heavy breathing and the slow plap plap plap that his movements cause on your wetness.

In front of you, Leonardo watches the scene — watches you — sitting on a chair, unable to move, because even though he's not tied up, the leader is not the one giving orders this time. His expression is serious, hardened by his barely maintained control; the hands on his knees tight around the fabric. His usual bright blue eyes are cloudy, darkened by the desire to touch himself or to touch you; the fly of his pants taut from the erection it holds, left there, neglected. The only thing he can do is watch Raphael as he touches you, as he makes you feel good, because that was the command he was given, and he must obey.

“Do you like seeing my girlfriend like this, Leo?" You feel the lips resting on the crook of your neck turn up in a smirk as Raphael speaks. “How long have you wanted to see her like this, huh? How many times have you imagined yourself in my place?” He keeps tormenting him with the questions, reveling in the power that he holds, in the notion that he has you, that you belong to him, and that the other brother who wants you can only watch, unless Raphael allows for something more. He's enjoying it a lot more than you expected, having Leonardo in the room with the two of you. You are enjoying it more than expected.

He grazes the skin near your pulse with his teeth before biting down, giving you another mark, another way to show Leonardo who owns you. “Answer me.” You moan after a thrust of his fingers harder than the previous ones, accompanied by Raphael's commanding tone.

“Since before you two got together.” It’s the answer given after a breath. Leonardo is talking to Raphael, but his eyes are fixed on you, observing how your body trembles, shaken both by the stimulation that your boyfriend is giving you and by the weight of his own gaze on your body. He sounds pained by the admission, the words pulled out from his throat almost by force. What hurts him more? Knowing that Raphael got to you before him, that the years of friendship you shared pushed you into his brother's arms? Or feeling guilty because he shouldn't have had these thoughts about you in the first place, that he should have put his desire for you in a drawer as soon as you told him that you were dating Raphael? Or maybe... Maybe it's the knowledge that he doesn't really care about all of this right now and just wants the chance to have you, for the hands that are on your body to be his own, to be the one giving you pleasure, to receive it in turn. Even if it's just this once.

“And you didn’t stop after that? It doesn’t seem honorable to think like that about your brother’s girlfriend, or am I wrong?” Raphael hooks his fingers inside you, finding the right spot, the most sensitive one, the one that makes your eyes roll and arch your back as you mewl. His other hand squeezes one of your breasts, passing the thumb over your nipple, adding to the feeling. “Raph~” you whine, gripping the arm that hugs your torso because you need to hold onto something.

“I kept my distance, I kept control. I ignored my fantasies as much as I could.” The words come out quickly, a waterfall spilling from his tongue, just justifications for his impure thoughts. When your eyes lock on Leonardo again, you can see the effect this vision of you has had on him. He seems delirious as he watches, his chest expanding as he takes big gulps of air with his nose. He’s trying to calm himself, years of training on discipline and restraint helping him keep his composure, but you can see the impatience behind every twitch of his body, the burning craving for you that lights up his icy irises.

“And now you’re here.” You can’t see Raphael’s face, but you know that he’s looking directly at Leonardo, that he too has noticed the mask of control that his brother usually wears falling from his face and shattering on the ground. “Tell me, what would you prefer, Leo? Touching yourself or touching her?” This question makes you shiver with anticipation, the same one you see reflected on Leonardo’s face. You hope he decides to touch you; you hope that Raphael will let him.

“…Her.” You can feel the hunger he has for you in his tone, in those eyes that never stopped staring at you for even a moment. You can feel the way touching himself wasn't even an option for him, that all he really wants is you.

Raphael removes his hand from between your legs, his fingers exiting from your entrance, leaving you clutching at nothing. You try to protest, because he's been edging you for half an hour without making you come and just now you were so close to the climax that it almost makes you angry that he stopped, but he silences you by bringing those same fingers to your mouth. You open up without thinking twice, wrapping your lips around them, tasting your own flavor on your tongue. Leonardo stands there, transfixed as you suck them clean, first one, then the other. You can read his thoughts, you can visualize what he’s imagining is in your mouth instead of Raphael’s digits. That’s why you maintain the eye contact with him until you pop them out, gloating internally when you see him exhale harder.

“What do you say, sweetheart? Want to give him a taste?” Raphael asks you, his tone is now soft, sweet, like it always is when he’s speaking to you. His face is next to yours, touching your cheek with his own, nuzzling into you, breathing in your scent and basking in the softness and warmth of your skin.

You turn your head to kiss him on the lips, one of your hands going to cup the back of his neck to bring him even closer. You look him in the eyes, those clear jewels where yellow and green mix together to create what has become your favorite color, love and affection painted in every streak of them, when you whisper: “Yes, please, please~”

His attention shifts back to Leonardo. “Come then.”

Leonardo stands up, almost knocking over his chair from the force of his movement. He's there in two strides, as quick to approach you as he is to kneel before you. Raphael takes your thighs with his hands to spread them wider, to give more access to Leonardo who doesn’t wait another second to place his mouth on your cunt. And it's at this moment that true pleasure explodes from the deepest part of you. Leonardo eats you out as if it were his first meal after decades of hardship, as if he'd never tasted anything better before this moment. He slides his tongue — thick, rough, hot — from bottom to top, repeatedly, mixing his saliva with your juices. His blue eyes, so blue, so so blue and shiny, rest on your face from below once his lips decide to attach themselves to your clit and suck. You push against Raphael, spreading yourself further over his plastron as you moan loudly, eyes rolling back. Raphael's hands tighten on your thighs, his fingertips digging into your skin, while his mouth attaches itself to your neck again. You feel his cock twitching on your lower back, and you're relieved that he's enjoying all of this too, that’s it’s not jealousy or possessiveness what resides in his heart right now.

The bedroom fills with both of their churrs, and the vibrations from Leonardo hit your core directly. You curl your toes as one of your hands goes to grip his head and the other goes back to grab Raphael's neck, the need to be anchored to something as strong as the need to let yourself be enveloped by the two men who are giving you the best night of your life.

You look down at Leonardo again and find his eyes still fixed on your face. You can't describe the way he's looking at you now as he continues to suck and lap over your pussy. He seems intoxicated by the taste in his mouth, as if he'd tasted something that opened his eyes — the fruit of the tree of knowledge that gave Adam wisdom but also damned him forever.

“Leo~” you cry out, and you calling his name makes him whimper on your sex. Who knows how many times he imagined you saying it this way? You don’t have the time to wonder that as you feel two of his fingers entering you. The access is easy, aided by all the time Raphael spent stretching you earlier. You feel him searching for the spot that almost made you come before, exploring your insides, walking for the first time in the steps that Raphael has already taken a hundred times, and when he finds it, when he feels you tighten around his fingers and mewl in the same way he heard earlier, when you arch your back pushing your pelvis even closer to his face, he begins to hit that spot with his fingertips while increasing the suction on your clit.

“Leo, oh god, Leo, Raph, I’m going to-“ It’s ecstasy as blood rushes to your head, making you hot and dizzy with pleasure. You don’t understand anything anymore, everything around you has dulled out except Leonardo still sucking and pumping on your cunt and Raphael’s voice reaching your ear as he murmurs “yes, baby, like this. Come like this, I got you.” All your body shakes as your orgasm finally explodes, Raphael’s arms now tight around your hips the only thing keeping you from falling down his lap.

When you find your reason again, when the fog in your eyes and your mind has lifted, you look down again. Leonardo has pulled away from you, but he's still looking at your face. His lips are swollen, his chin wet, his breathing as labored as yours. You want to take his face in your hands and bring it close to yours to kiss him, both as a thanks for what he did and because he looks so beautiful and kissable right now, the affection for him that flutters inside your heart and turns into something close to what you feel for Raphael, but you haven't discussed this with your boyfriend yet, so you don't. You just keep looking at him as you feel Raphael's weight all around you and his lips peppering kisses on your nape.

When Leonardo stands up, you notice a dark, wet stain in the front of his pants.

ෆ an: i have nothing to say except that i wish this happened to me for real, bye. (it's short and just a glimpse of what happened between them in my imagination, but i hope you enjoyed it!♡ maybe one day i'll expand it into a larger fic because leo pining after raphael’s girlfriend us and then raph asking him to join — first in their sexual life, then as a poly relationship — it’s a juicy scenario ngtl!)

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It's late at night.

Leonardo is sitting on the rooftop of one of New York's many apartment buildings situated on the outskirts of the city, his legs crossed, his eyes turned skyward. For a month now, he has had the habit of sneaking out of the lair as soon as his family goes to bed to spend some time there, in what has become one of his favorite places, a slice of tranquility amidst the chaos of his life. Not that there was anything special about that rooftop in particular. What really made it special was—

Leonardo senses it immediately, the presence of someone behind him. It's someone trying to make as little noise as possible as they get closer to him, but he's a well-trained ninja and can hear everything: every breath, every step, the air that moves with every movement of that person who's trying to catch him by surprise. He pretends not to have noticed anything, though. He stays still and waits for the right moment.

You lunges toward his shell, trying to hug him from behind. Without batting an eyelid, Leonardo grabs you by the back of your shirt and throws you over his shoulders and into his arms. Now you’re there, breathless, sitting on top of Leonardo's crossed legs, your head supported by his right arm, looking up at him in amazement with those brilliant eyes Leonardo has come to love.

He chuckles in amusement, looking down at you, his gaze full of affection. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

"Oh, come on! I was so quiet, how could you hear and know it was me?!" you pout, but your protests quickly turn into a giggle. "You don't miss anything, do you?"

"Sensei would be very disappointed in me if I were caught unprepared for this kind of ambush, especially when orchestrated by lumbering beginners." He explains, his tone light, playful.

“I will pretend not to be offended by being called a ‘lumbering beginner’, even if it’s true.”You adjust your position, getting more comfortable on his lap and against his chest. “Now, unfortunately for you, I’ll stay right here and you'll have to hold me like this the whole time, hah!” You copy the playfulness of Leonardo’s voice, your lips curled into a smirk. He knows you're trying to make him think that even if you didn't manage to fool him, in the end you're the one who won and got the prize. But you don’t know how wrong you are, because Leonardo now has in his arms the person who made this simple rooftop his special place, so if anything, it's a draw. He doesn't tell you, though, he lets you rejoice in your small victory and focus on the warmth of your body and the furious beating of his own heart. If only you knew how happy and nervous being this close to you makes him feel.

He thinks back to that fateful night a month ago when you first met. He'd ended up in that part of town because Raphael had decided to storm off the lair and go topside alone after getting angry and arguing with everyone. Which wasn’t really something new, but trusting Raphael not to do something impulsive in those conditions wasn’t something that they could do. So Leonardo and the others had gone looking for him under Splinter's orders and had decided to split up. But instead of finding his brooding brother, Leonardo had found you.

You were sitting on the edge of the roof, lost in thought. He would be lying if he said he hadn't been curious about you from the start, but then again, before that night, he had never seen a human being up close, much less a woman, and as much as he prided himself on his discipline and self-control, being so close to someone outside his family had distracted him. That's why he'd made a misstep, making a noise. The same noise that startled you and made you lose your balance. You would have crashed onto the road below if Leonardo hadn't had his quick reflexes and grabbed you just in time.

He still remembers the leap his heart made at that scene, his hand tight around your wrist to keep you from falling, and your eyes, scared and incredulous at the same time, fixed on his.

Time seemed to stand still as Leonardo waited for your reaction after almost falling to your death and after being saved by a giant humanoid turtle. He remembers thinking how stupid and careless he was to have caused such a thing and to have been forced to reveal his existence after his father had warned him since he was a child to stay away from humans.

“You saved me” was the first thing you said to him after minutes of silence as he pulled you up and steadied you on your feet, while you kept looking at him like you were trying to figure out what exactly was in front of you. Which was still a much more positive reaction than he would have expected.

“I’m really sorry, miss. It was my fault, I startled you and almost made you fall,” he apologized politely, bowing to you in the manner his father had taught him to show respect. He heard you giggle then, and so he stood up straight again, looking at you in confusion. Maybe the strange one was you.

“No, I should have sat down somewhere less dangerous. Thank you for saving me from certain death,” you had replied, smiling. You were taking the situation way too lightly in his opinion, but Leonardo didn't really know you so he didn't feel he had the right to judge.

Then you looked him up and down. “Can I ask you… What are- no. Who are you?” You seemed embarrassed by the fact that you had to ask him something like that, but your eyes couldn’t conceal your curiosity. He didn’t blame you. He appreciated the fact that you tried to be tactful, in fact.

He explained his nature, the fact that he was a mutated turtle trained to be a ninja, and made you promise not to tell anyone about his existence. Then a sound came from his com, Donatello's voice updating him that he had found Raphael and that they all could go back to the lair as they planned. Leonardo looked at you one last time, considering whether he could really trust you, then nodded in sign of salute, and turned to leave. He would never have returned to that rooftop if you hadn't stopped him and asked “Wait! Will I see you again?" with a voice so full of hope that made him reconsider all his father’s words about direct contact with humans.

He should have said no. He should have obeyed his father’s warnings and be like the perfect rule abiding golden child that Raphael always accused him to be. Instead he responded “Maybe” before jumping off to another rooftop and disappearing from your gaze.

And the next night, he was there again, behind his family’s back.

And you were there too, waiting for him.

That's how your friendship began. Night after night spent chatting together in your little corner of the world, carved only for the two of you. Leonardo had never spoken so freely with anyone. Nor had he ever felt so understood and at ease. He found joy in your time together, and he felt good in having something all to himself. A precious secret away from his family.

Then things began to change. That friendship for which he had been so grateful had begun to feel too tight for him, suffocating him like a turtleneck-sweater shrunken in the washing machine.

And as your laughter, your complicity and the depth of your long chats increased, so did his feelings.

Now every time you found yourself sitting side by side on the floor, he could barely concentrate on the words coming out of your mouth or on what to respond. He could only think of your scent filling his lungs with your every move, of every time your shoulder brushed against his before pulling away, of how much he wished he could hold you and be lulled by your warmth. How your lips beckoned him closer, a siren song hypnotizing a poor sailor into drowning in the sea.

But Leonardo resisted. He would never do something without making sure you wanted it too. For a mutant like himself, befriending someone was already something incredible, unthinkable, a stroke of luck already too great. Moving on to another step, to a relationship that would entail kissing and intimacy, was probably too much to hope for. There was no way to know with certainty if the idea of ​​undertaking something like this with him was something that would ever cross your mind or if it was something that, in the worst case, could disgust you. Not without asking directly, with the risk of ruining everything and getting his heart shattered.

But then Leonardo began to notice a change in your behavior, the way you seemed to linger on his facial features when you thought you weren't being seen, a certain wonder and admiration painted in your irises. The way your gaze sometimes dropped lower and lingered on the hard plates of his pectorals before blushing and looking away. The way your breathing became shallower, and your body stiffer and you seemed not to want to stop the contact when he touched you first.

Leonardo wasn't entirely confident in taking the first step toward that uncharted territory called love, but he was perceptive and knew that you too had stopped being content in the role of mere friend.

He tried flirting a little sometimes, testing your reaction, never overstepping too much. And when you responded by flirting back, the idea arose that perhaps, despite all the differences between the two of you, something more could actually work.

Maybe, maybe all the dreams he's had since he first realized he loved you could come true for real.

“You’ve been quiet.” Your voice bring him back to the present. You're still in his arms, closer than you've ever been. And you look at him with those eyes full of light, and maybe, maybe this is the right time to finally make that step and walk through that door.

He holds you a little closer. He brings the arm that's not supporting your back over your leg. He caresses your thigh with his thumb, a gentle, affectionate touch. It serves more to calm his nerves, to ground him, than anything else. And he looks at you, sinks into your eyes. The blue of his seems to become more turbulent, deeper.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you?" Leonardo finally asks. He's always been the most confident of his brothers, but now he feels like he's tossed around on a raft in the middle of the ocean, ready to sink at any moment, only you the one with the power to save him from that destiny.

He notices your eyes widen, your breathing hitching. For a moment, Leonardo is afraid. That he's not as perceptive as he thought, that he has misread the signals, that he has risked too much and he will gain nothing. But then you smile, your cheeks red. “I would love it if you did that.”

And so Leonardo leans down and kisses you. It's just a peck at first, just his lips touching your lips, a light touch that is enough to burn him from the inside out. He tastes how it feels, the softness of your mouth against his own. He feels like dying from the amount of emotions swirling in his chest, and then he dies a little for real because you try to lick and suck his lower lip. At this point he doesn’t really know what to do, he has never kissed anyone before, after all. He'll never tell you, but the only thing that he did was practicing making out with his hand closed in a fist in the solitude of his room — hoping that none of his noisy brothers would ever find out — to prepare himself for the eventuality of having to do it with you. He thought that would be enough to know how to move his lips better, but he still finds himself awkward. And the ticking bomb situated in his chest right now certainly doesn't help the situation.

“Wait.” Leonardo stops immediately, putting space between your faces and letting you breathe. He notices your shiny, red lips as he looks down at you and feels a bit proud knowing he was the one who made them that way, even though he knows perfectly well that the kiss must not have been great for you.

“Sorry, I've never—"

“No, me neither, for that matter.” You stop him from apologizing further, smiling. “I just want to get more comfortable, then we can practice more together." You smirk, and Leonardo smiles at that, both relieved and eager to continue. You get up, only to then straddle him, circling his lap with your legs in a lotus position. Your arms go to rest on his shoulders, joining behind his head. You gaze into each other's eyes for another moment, then lean in again.

Leonardo brings his hands to your hips and squeezes them, savoring your curves with his palms as he tastes your mouth again. You both try moving your lips again, using your tongues together, and this time it's better. After a few seconds of trying, you find your rhythm, and although there's room for improvement, the kiss becomes satisfying. Leonardo loses himself completely in the sensation, a rumbling chur erupts from his chest, and he hopes you don't pull away to ask what it is. He will explain later, right now he doesn’t want to stay a single second away from you.

Then the unthinkable happens. By the time Leonardo realizes, it's too late, because he clearly feels the slight jolt of your pelvis against him, letting him know that you noticed too. This makes things worse, because that small movement creates friction on the boner that has formed between his legs.

Leonardo brings his hands to your shoulders and gently pulls you away from him. He struggles to look you in the eye as he coughs to clear his throat.

“I'm sorry, I didn't think my body would react like this." Leonardo always thought of himself as a gentleman. He always thought that he could restrain and control every desire and reaction in his body, with the help of his training and his will. Apparently, he was wrong, so wrong.

He hears you giggle and he isn't sure if that should reassure him or make him sink deeper into embarrassment.

"Don't worry, from what I know it can happen to many." You try to put him at ease. He feels your hands cupping his face and then he finds himself looking directly at you again. “If anything, I’m flattered,” you tease him lightly, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. One of his hands cups one of yours, still resting on his cheek, and he squeezes it. A chur rumbles in his chest again. This time, you do ask what it is.

“It’s something that we do, my brothers and I. Mostly when we’re happy. A turtle thing.”

The explanation makes you smile. “I’m happy too, Leo. A lot.” You pause, and Leonardo knows that you’re collecting your words to say something important about where the both of you stand now. But he won’t let you confess first, that is something that he should do.

“I like you. I really like you,” he says. Your name comes out softly from his lips. “I would be honored if you would take me as your boyfriend.” His gaze is serious but also a little shy as he waits for your response.

“I like you too, Leo. And I would be honored to be your girlfriend.” You smile and give him another quick kiss, almost like you’re officially sealing this new arrangement between the two of you. He smiles on your lips, then he clears his throat again because the ‘problem’ between his legs is still there. He’s not ready to take care of that part of him with you yet, so he gestures for you to get up. He’s thankful that you seem to understand and that you don’t push.

“I should go now,” he says, getting up in turn. He’s still a little bashful but you squeeze his hand lightly and you smile and that’s enough to calm him.

“Goodnight, then. See you tomorrow?”

He smiles, the affection that he has for you pouring from his eyes.

“Of course. Same hour, same place.”

ෆ an: first fanfiction that i write and publish for this fandom and in this account. i’m kind of nervous not going to lie. especially because it’s been awhile since i wrote something at all and i’m very rusty. i don’t know if i like this piece that i’ve written. i wanted it to be more poetic and with more descriptions but it’s pretty simple instead, oh well, it is what it is. i love bay leo so much and i wanted to write and publish something for him and i finally found the courage to enter this fandom as a writer instead of lurking in the shadows. i started to write this at 9pm and right now it’s 4am, so it’s a very rushed piece. i might come back and change/add things tbh. if you want you can let me know if there are errors or if i should change some sentences, i’ve been writing for years but i fear that i’m not improving like i want to because of all the long breaks that i take and because i read way less than before. that said, hope you like it!♡

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—♡𝜗𝜚 Well, you're in luck, and for two reasons:

1) Bayverse Leonardo himself is an introvert and a nerd. Every version of Leonardo shows an interest in reading, comics, and sci-fi, and Bayverse Leonardo is no exception (during the movies, he's the only one seen reading a book, and I think there is a reference to Star Wars in his side of the bedroom? His wall is plastered with comics strips too). So Bayverse Leonardo is a literature nerd, a sci-fi nerd, and a Japanese culture nerd. And he reads both comics and manga too.

2) If you ask him, he'll tell you he doesn't have a favorite brother, that he loves all his brothers equally. He's lying. He does in fact loves them all equally, but he absolutely has a favorite, and that favorite is Donatello. And Donatello himself is introverted and nerdy, even if he’s a different kind of nerd from Leonardo (and he’s much more sociable and talkative than Leonardo and you).

—♥︎𝜗𝜚 So you immediately caught his attention and had the opportunity to become one of his favorite people (and Leonardo is extremely selective, not everyone has the privilege of getting past his walls, so you accomplished something remarkable).

—♡𝜗𝜚 When you first met the turtles and later became their friend, you didn't talk much and preferred to keep to yourself. Leonardo didn't mind; in fact, he liked the fact that you weren't a chaotic and noisy person.

—♥︎𝜗𝜚 In the past, some people mistook your behavior for disinterest or found it difficult to get close to you, but Leonardo immediately understood that your aloof appearance and your quietness were simply part of your personality.

—♡𝜗𝜚 It's not that you hated people or weren't interested in making friends, but most of your focus has always been inward, you've always needed more time to ponder and more time alone to recharge. Leonardo shared these traits with you. He too has always found it difficult to open up to others —like you, he's not really a people person— and he has always appreciated moments of silence as much as those filled with chatter and laughter.

—♥︎𝜗𝜚 You recognized yourselves as similar people, basically. At least on the surface. And Leonardo found your presence calming.

—♡𝜗𝜚 Every time you met after he realized he could trust you, Leonardo was always polite and kind, maybe just a little stiff. He tried to make small talks and get you comfortable in his presence, but at first you didn't know what to talk about. And these moments of silence, although not uncomfortable, were broken only by his two more talkative but equally eager to get to know you brothers (Mikey and Donnie), while Raph observed you from his corner and occasionaly teased you.

—♥︎𝜗𝜚 Then everything changed one evening.

—♡𝜗𝜚 You were in the lair on one of those nights when everything in the city was quiet and the turtles could enjoy their free time without having to go topside to fight crime. You were walking past the part of the lair that was set up as the turtles' bedroom, and near the perfectly made bed with its blue blanket (clearly Leonardo's), you noticed something.

—♥︎𝜗𝜚 Maybe one of the books from your favorite series or the same comic you have in your collection or the action figure of one of the last Anime you watched or a poster of something you've always been very interested in.

—♡𝜗𝜚 Leonardo was there and saw the exact moment your eyes fell on that object and lit up. He smiled and, approaching, asked if you also liked that particular thing. That was the moment the quiet you was gone, making room for the nerd eager to talk about their passions with someone who understood what they were talking about. That was also the moment your friendship truly blossomed.

—♥︎𝜗𝜚 From that moment on, you started talking about your hobbies with him. And he always listened attentively. He thought it was cute how you went from just saying a few polite words and sitting in your corner listening to the chatter of his brothers, to long ramblings about the latest show you watched or the last thing you read.

—♡𝜗𝜚 You were passionate, knowledgeable and you had truly interesting takes. When you talked about your interests, you almost became a different person. The light in your eyes, the smile on your lips, the way you gestured with your hands… he liked that about you. And he felt a little proud that you had chosen him as the person to open up to and show that side of you.

—♥︎𝜗𝜚 If the things you talked about were things he also enjoyed and knew about, Leonardo would join in the conversation, sharing his thoughts, ideas and preferences. Long discussions would begin between you two, and it wasn't unusual for his brothers or his father to find you sitting next to each other, chatting animatedly; comics, books or journals scattered all around your spot or watching a show on the TV.

—♡𝜗𝜚 If, on the other hand, he didn't know much about the subject —for example, if you were also interested in scientific subjects and facts, or art, or video games, or other interests he wasn't familiar with— he still loved listening to you in silence. He saw it as a teaching moment, where he could learn about both the subject in question and more about you.

—♥︎𝜗𝜚 And you can bet that if he knew that one of the things you were talking about was something Donatello knew, as soon as you got home, he'd run to his brother for more information, so he could talk to you more effectively. Maybe even impress you a little bit.

—♡𝜗𝜚 He even started a journal full of notes on everything you talked about with him. So he wouldn't forget it. And so he could get ideas for what to gift you for your birthday or other special occasions.

—♥︎𝜗𝜚 Leonardo always put his duties before anything else. Meditating with Splinter, training in ninjutsu, taking care of his swords, tending to his bonsai, household chores, dealing with his brothers and April's problems, patrolling and protecting the city. All these things always took priority over his personal interests.

—♡𝜗𝜚 Not that he hated all of this. He loved being a ninja, he loved taking care of his body, he loved sharing hobbies with his father and absorbing his teachings, he also loved sports and spending time with his family. But these have always been activities linked to him being the eldest son, the older brother, the hero, the leader.

—♥︎𝜗𝜚 That's why he always treasured those moments of peace and solitude where he could relax and just be Leo, the one who, despite the appearance, loved reading books of all kinds, studying Japanese culture and history, entertaining himself with super heroes comics, or watching one of his favorite sci-fi movies.

—♡𝜗𝜚 And then you came along, and… that sliver of time dedicated to himself became even more special.

—♥︎𝜗𝜚 You both still needed alone time, or moments where, instead of talking, you just sat next to each other doing your own thing, but… it felt good to share space and words with someone who didn't expect you to be anything more than just yourself.

—♡𝜗𝜚 It was during one of those moments carved out just for the two of you, while you were showing him your latest purchases while sitting on his bed, excitedly talking about how rare it was and how you'd managed to find it at a good price by a stroke of luck, that he realized that he had fallen in love with you.

—♥︎𝜗𝜚 It was scary to think about. That would change a lot of things, and Leonardo didn't take changes that well. It had always been one of his worst flaws: wanting things to stay the way they always were, the way he was used to.

—♡𝜗𝜚 Not to mention all the worst-case scenarios that were running through his head. You might reject him and hate the fact that he ruined your friendship with a confession. You might start avoiding him and retreat into your shell. You might replace him with Donatello —the other brother closest to you who would not only have been happy to listen to your ramblings, but who would have had just as many things to say, perhaps even more than Leonardo— and he'd be forced to watch you two share the same bond you once had only with him.

—♥︎𝜗𝜚 That's why he'd decided to tread carefully and observe your every move, gesture, and word. And to court you. Subtly, so that he could feign ignorance. He had to be sure you'd love him back. And if you weren't already in love with him, then he had to make sure you fell. Love was a mission, and he never set out on a mission without a plan or two.

—♡𝜗𝜚 And in case the mission failed and you didn't see him as anything more than a friend, he had to make sure you knew that nothing would change for him, that you could continue as if he'd never said anything, that he was perfectly capable of compartmentalizing his feelings and making sure they didn't affect anything in his life.

—♥︎𝜗𝜚 So he changed a little the way he approached you, becoming more deliberate, more flirtatious. Compliments, light teasing, gentle touches, thoughtful notes, acts of service. This guy knows how to win someone over and make them understand that he would be the perfect partner. And with every blush you gave him, with every lingerings glance, with every flirtatious word you returned, his confidence grew. Oh, you did like him like that. Perfect. First part of the mission accomplished. The second part could initiate.

—♡𝜗𝜚 He'd been preparing for the confession for a month. And he asked Raphael for help. Why? Because Raphael has always had a passion for woodcarving, and Leonardo, instead of the usual flowers, decided to give you a wooden figurine of your favorite character for that fateful moment. He could have had Raphael make it himself, it would have taken less time, but for it to be special, it had to be something that Leonardo made by himself. So he spent days and days being taught how to witthle by Raphael, even enduring his endless teasing. It wasn't very difficult, since Leonardo has always been good at handling sharp objects, but the figurine had to be flawless, so he spent a lot of time on it.

—♥︎𝜗𝜚 Time and effort absolutely well spent, because the look on your face when Leonardo handed it to you was worth more than any treasure.

—♡𝜗𝜚 You obviously accepted his confession: you'd been in love with him from the moment you met him, you still don't understand how he didn't know it from the beginning.

—♥︎𝜗𝜚 He already had an idea for your date. Well, lots of ideas for lots of dates. He keeps them in the same journal where he keeps all your interests and conversations. But he always knew your first date would be at the museum you'd always wanted to visit but had never anyone to go with. After saving the Earth from Krang, he'd received the key of the city and police protection. It would be so easy to go there at night and have the museum all to yourselves, zero people around, without worrying about hiding from the guards and getting caught. He could already picture you walking through the corridors, explaining with your usual passion everything you pointed at, while he was by your side with your other hand in his, listening to your every word.

—♡𝜗𝜚 And also: the fictional crushes you have? Leonardo isn't jealous or insecure about it, not at all. He'll use it to his advantage, actually. If you're into it, this guy is totally down to roleplay from time to time, so prepare to listen to him acting all the lines that made your heart shiver. Yes, especially in the bedroom. Yes, if one of the character wears a mask, he will absolutely put it on. Yes, he loves to tease you about it. Yes, you can do the same with his fictional crushes, if you want. Yes, he still prefer you over them.

—♥︎𝜗𝜚 (He and the others must finally get to work on changing the location of their rooms. He needs a bedroom of his own, with a door that can be locked).

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💙LEONARDO💙: disciplined, dutiful, principled, focused, devoted, strategic, stoic, protective, realistic, rigid, controlling, pressuring, distant, self-critical, preachy, honorable, dependable, courageous, traditionalist, introspective, earnest, sacrificial, perfectionist, admirable, inspiring, conflicted, serious, methodical, compassionate, driven, patient, responsible, pragmatic, spiritual, altruistic, determined, introverted.

❤️RAPHAEL❤️: passionate, fierce, loyal, courageous, protective, honest, intense, tender, impulsive, hot-headed, aggressive, resentful, reckless, brooding, stubborn, volatile, empathetic, determined, raw, defensive, sarcastic, confrontational, bold, street-smart, gruff, emotional, rebellious, independent, complex, magnetic, active, direct, realistic, touchy, shrewd, frank, sensitive, wary, extroverted.

💜DONATELLO💜: intelligent, inventive, curious, empathetic, gentle, analytical, resourceful, calm, awkward, obsessive, condescending, overthinking, proud, hesitant, methodical, logical, perceptive, dedicated, innovative, thoughtful, precise, nerdy, idealistic, patient, imaginative, self-doubting, detail-oriented, careful, earnest, shy, open-minded, conceited, solitary, intuitive, insightful, rational, fussy, introverted.

🧡MICHELANGELO🧡: optimistic, joyful, warm, creative, charismatic, talented, open, carefree, immature, undisciplined, naive, reckless, unreliable, goofy, restless, spontaneous, energetic, affectionate, funny, resilient, imaginative, idealistic, sociable, kindhearted, enthusiastic, playful, impulsive, distracted, adaptable, free-spirited, expressive, lazy, romantic, dreamy, greedy, impatient, absent-minded, arrogant, trusting, extroverted.

the people closest to me and i have come to the conclusion that the turtle i’m the most similar to is donatello, while the one i’m the least similar to is leonardo. this doesn't mean i don't share some traits with leonardo, but overall he's the one who's furthest from me in terms of general personality. i’m the youngest in my family, so i think this has had an impact on that ahah. michelangelo and raphael are both close seconds for me, since i have many traits from both, but personally i feel closer to michelangelo than raphael overall. again, probably because i’m the youngest and this influenced who i am a lot.

so, at the end, my ranking from the one who resembles me the most to the one who resembles me the least is: donatello, michelangelo, raphael, and leonardo.

but my favorite turtles, and the ones i’m also in love with, are leonardo and raphael. especially bayverse leonardo and bayverse raphael. i refuse to choose one or the other. they both share my heart.

regarding shipping preferences: i'm a leonardo and raphael selfshipper so i prefer to ship them with characters similar to me, ergo someone who overall has a different personality than theirs. the readers that i create for my fanfictions, even though i try to make them as general as possible so that everyone can see themselves in them, are based mostly on myself. however, my favorite thing to do is to make the turtle of choice and the oc/reader they're shipped with generally feel 50% similar and 50% different. for example, maybe the reader or the oc has a different personality from the turtle of choice in question, but they have the same interests or they share some traits but not all of them. or they have different interests but similar personalities. i like it when there are differences to explore and ships that complement each other like pieces of a puzzle ("you have everything that i lack" or "your strengths are my weaknesses and viceversa"), but at the same time i think it's also important to highlight the commonalities that make them recognize themselves in each other and understand one another.

one more thing, and this concerns especially the bayverse turtles. since bayverse leonardo and bayverse raphael are not good at navigating emotions and feelings, both their own and those of others, i prefer to pair them with readers who are emotionally intelligent and sensible. and since bayverse donatello and bayverse michelangelo tend to be more passive and they tend to follow their big brothers, i prefer to pair them with readers who aren't and that will speak up.

what about you? i’m curious to read your responses! i think it's a fun topic to discuss; it could spark a debate about who we are vs. what attracts us and where our shipping preferences lie! i clearly have an opposite attracts thing going on ahah♡

ෆ an: i’d like to take the opportunity to thank everyone who has followed me on this account this month, everyone who's liked and reblogged my fanfics, and everyone who has left a comment both here on tumblr and on my ao3. thank you so much, really! i will be back with new stories soon!♡

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