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redginganinja · 2 months

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Nozel x Reader

Hey all.... Slowly trying to get back into writing and adding some fandoms to the list. One I'm into right now is Black Clover....

Anyways, here's a somewhat self indulgent fic for Nozel Silva x female reader.

Prologue

Y/N POV

Hissing in anger, I slammed my fist into the door, the solid oak absorbing the impact with a dull thud. Its imposing presence loomed tall as the ceiling, a formidable barrier that seemed to mock my attempts to escape. Locked tightly, it denied me even a glimpse of freedom, leaving me feeling claustrophobic and trapped within its unforgiving embrace.

“Ahem…” a voice cleared their throat behind me, breaking the suffocating silence.

I groaned, the frustration evident in my tone. “What?” I snapped without turning around, my fist still pressed against the unyielding door.

“We really should get started…” a male voice began, his words carrying a sense of urgency. “Your father instructed me to prepare you for the arrival of the King, and the rest of the royals.”

"What’s to prepare?" I asked the tutor sarcastically, finally turning around to face him, my gaze sharp and unrelenting. "Smile, say pleasant things - I can manage…"

He scoffed dismissively, his demeanor brimming with conviction. “There is far more to it than that, my lady. They will be here in the morning, and you are woefully underprepared.”

I regarded him with thinly veiled disinterest, my patience wearing thin. “Locking me in here with you will not convince me to listen. In fact…” A mischievous grin danced upon my lips as I extended my hand, conjuring a surge of magic that crackled with energy, freezing him to the floor where he stood. “You can stay here, but I have plans…”

“You cannot! I - “

I cut off his protests with a smirk, reveling in the control I held over the situation. “Do I need to freeze your mouth as well?” I taunted, relishing in the power coursing through my veins.

He clamped his mouth shut, his eyes wide with apprehension, and I couldn't help but smile. “Thank you. I’m leaving - you will not scream for help, or there will be hell to pay later. I will be back tonight…”

“Your father..” he began, his voice meek.

“ - I do not care what my father says. You will keep quiet if you know what’s good for you.” I hissed, my tone leaving no room for argument as I gathered my belongings with purpose.

Ignoring his wary gaze, I swiftly collected my things, tossing a bag out the window in a calculated act of defiance. I strode behind the privacy screen, shedding the confines of my formal attire with a sense of liberation, exchanging them for the simple garments of a commoner - pants and a casual tunic that offered freedom of movement and anonymity in equal measure.

Emerging from behind the screen, I met his gaze head-on, my expression unyielding. “You will keep quiet until you see the sun rising on the horizon. If I’m not home by then, you may worry, and send someone after me. Understood?” I demanded, my words laced with an unmistakable air of command.

He gulped audibly, his compliance evident in the nod of his head, and I accepted it without hesitation, knowing that my departure would not go unnoticed for long.

With purposeful strides, I made my way to the window, summoning a gust of wind to carry me down to the awaiting bag below. The descent was swifter than I intended, and I landed with a huff, the impact driving the breath from my lungs as I dusted myself off.

Draping a cloak around my shoulders, I pulled the hood low over my features, concealing my identity from prying eyes as I ventured into the bustling streets below. The town was alive with activity, preparations for the royal visit evident in every corner as people scurried about, consumed by the chaos of anticipation.

Navigating the labyrinthine streets with practiced ease, I blended seamlessly into the throng of commoners, my stolen cloak affording me the anonymity I sought. With each step, I felt the weight of expectation slip away, replaced by a sense of freedom and possibility that beckoned me forward into the unknown.

As I made my way through the streets, my senses were inundated with the vibrant spectacle of the town adorned in honor of the impending royal visit. Streamers danced in the breeze, and colorful signs adorned every corner, announcing the forthcoming festivities to all who passed by. The air buzzed with an electric energy as people hurried about, their frenzied movements a testament to the meticulous preparations underway - food stalls being erected, clothing stalls bustling with activity, and vendors hawking their wares in anticipation of the influx of visitors. It was a scene of organized chaos, a symphony of sights and sounds that enveloped me as I navigated through the throngs of people.

Despite the lively atmosphere, I found myself indifferent to the spectacle unfolding around me. The prospect of countless eyes upon me filled me with a sense of unease, a blush creeping to my cheeks at the mere thought of so many individuals recognizing me. With a resigned sigh, I pressed forward, my destination beckoning me with the promise of familiarity and solace amidst the chaos of the town.

Pushing open the creaking wooden door, I was immediately greeted by the clamor of the bustling tavern - rowdy men engaged in spirited conversation, tankards of ale clashing against worn wooden tables in raucous celebration. A nostalgic smile tugged at my lips at the familiar sounds, a sense of belonging washing over me as I stepped into the warmth of the bustling establishment.

“Oi, girl! Where ya been?” A booming voice called out, cutting through the din of the tavern.

I chuckled in response, the affectionate banter of the patrons a welcome embrace. “I missed you too, Mort. How’ve you been?”

“Busy,” Mort grumbled, his weathered features creased in a bemused smile. “And the new girl is flailing…” He trailed off, nodding towards a young blonde woman struggling to navigate the crowded tavern with a tray of drinks in hand.

I grinned knowingly, my years of experience in this tavern lending me a sense of confidence in the chaotic environment. “Good thing I showed up when I did. Hand me a tray,” I replied, my tone laced with playful determination.

Mort chuckled heartily, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he passed me a serving tray. “I’ll pay you in beer,” he quipped, the familiar exchange eliciting a fond smile from me.

“Perfect,” I winked, accepting the tray with a grateful nod before making my way towards the beleaguered new waitress.

“Hey new girl, I’m here to help out. I’ll take some of the bigger tables - take a load off your shoulders,” I offered with a warm smile, extending a gesture of camaraderie to the overwhelmed young woman.

Her expression softened with relief, gratitude shining in her eyes as she accepted my assistance. “Thank you,” she replied earnestly, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

“Just you wait - it gets a lot worse…” I reassured her with a laugh, offering a comforting pat on the shoulder. “But I’ve been slinging drinks for years, so I’ve got you covered.”

With a grateful nod, she turned her attention back to her duties, and I set off to tend to the needs of the tavern patrons. Moving from table to table, I greeted each patron with a warm smile, my focus solely on the task at hand as I navigated the bustling tavern with practiced ease. There was no time for pleasantries - the tavern was too slammed for such niceties - but with each drink served and each smile exchanged, I found myself slipping effortlessly into the rhythm of the familiar chaos, the promise of camaraderie and laughter guiding me through the bustling evening ahead.

A small group of imposing figures caught my eye, their attire betraying their status as magic knights - their robes, tattered and worn, spoke volumes of the battles they had faced and the challenges they had overcome. Despite my unease at their presence, I plastered on a smile, reminding myself of the reward awaiting me at the end of the night - cold, refreshing mugs of beer.

“What can I get for y’all?” I asked with forced cheerfulness, dispelling any notion of pleasantries in the face of the bustling tavern.

A large, dark-haired man in a tattered black robe grinned mischievously at me, his eyes alight with amusement. “Lots of beer, girl,” he teased, his words laced with playful banter.

I nodded in response, turning my attention to the thin man clad in a green robe beside him. “More beer than him…” he hissed, his demeanor sending a shiver down my spine. There was something unnerving about him, a sense of darkness that lingered in the air.

Next, I addressed the man in the crimson robe, his red hair framing a polite smile. “Just a beer, please,” he requested politely, his demeanor a stark contrast to the others at the table.

The man in the golden robe, his face concealed behind a mask, nodded in agreement, his silent acquiescence adding an air of mystery to his presence. Finally, I turned to the man in the blue robe, a braid of silver hair obscuring his features. “Water,” he spoke plainly, his voice devoid of emotion.

Suppressing a look at the odd request, I nodded in acknowledgment. “Very well… I’ll be back with your drinks shortly,” I informed them, turning on my heel and making my way behind the bar to fulfill their orders.

With practiced efficiency, I filled as many steins of beer as I could carry, balancing the water on top with ease. Returning to the table, I distributed the drinks with a sense of satisfaction, placing the water in front of the silver-haired man with an amused twinkle in my eye before handing out the beers to the others. “Just holler if you need something else,” I offered with a smile, my tone friendly yet professional.

Turning my attention back to the bustling tavern, I threw myself into the rhythm of the evening, serving patrons with renewed vigor as the night grew busier and busier. With each drink poured and each table served, I found myself growing progressively friendlier, my interactions with the patrons becoming more lighthearted and jovial as I indulged in chugs of beer between rounds.

Teasing and joking with those I served became second nature, my laughter mingling with the lively ambiance of the tavern as I navigated the bustling crowd with ease. However, when it came to the magic knights, I maintained a respectful distance, interacting with them only when necessary - which, given the drinking competition between the big man and the skinny man, was more frequent than I had anticipated.

I was startled from my serving flow when I heard a loud crash!, and the sounds of the tavern were abruptly silenced by the sudden disruption. All eyes turned towards the source of the commotion, which emanated from the new girl. She stood frozen, a tray of drinks scattered at her feet, her expression a mixture of shock and fear as she struggled against the grasp of a particularly loathsome patron who had seized her, pulling her forcefully into his lap as his hands traveled across her person.

My gaze narrowed at him, fury igniting within me at the sight of his brazen actions. This was not the first time I had warned this troublemaker about his behavior, yet he persisted in his despicable antics, seemingly emboldened with each transgression. Without hesitation, I seized a knife from the bar, my resolve solidifying as I stalked towards the table with determined purpose.

The girl caught sight of me and scrambled away from her assailant, who sat smugly, oblivious to the storm brewing around him as he laughed and took another swig of his beer. My anger surged, my mana pulsating with unrestrained power as I swiftly drove the knife into the table, the blade embedding itself next to his hand with a satisfying thud, drawing a sliver of his blood in its wake.

He turned to snarl at me, his bravado faltering as he registered my presence, his face draining of color with dawning recognition.

Snarling back, my voice unnervingly calm despite the tempest raging within me, I addressed him with chilling precision. “Elaric - I thought I made it abundantly clear that your presence wasn’t welcome here…” I sneered, my words carrying a weight of authority that brooked no argument.

His eyes widened with nervous apprehension. “I hadn’t seen you around lately…” he stammered, his feeble attempt at justification falling on deaf ears.

Glaring icily at him, I continued, my tone laced with thinly veiled menace. “Even so - you shouldn’t be here. You have ten seconds to vacate these premises before you lose that hand,” I declared, my voice a lethal whisper that echoed with the promise of consequences.

With a sense of urgency, he scrambled out of his chair, his bravado evaporating in the face of my unwavering resolve. “You’ll regret this,” he hissed, venom dripping from his words, but I merely laughed in response.

“My only regret is not doing this sooner,” I retorted, my gaze unwavering as I watched him slink towards the door, a defeated shadow of his former self.

Turning my attention to the shaken barmaid, I moved to check on her well-being, aware of the watchful eyes of the tavern's patrons upon me. Sensing the tension in the air, I prepared to address the onlookers, my frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

Before I could voice my reprimand, Mort stepped forward, his authoritative voice cutting through the silence like a clarion call. “Back to your drinks, folks. Just a little pre-celebration excitement from a local troublemaker - nothing for you to concern yourselves with. Enjoy a round on the house!” he declared, his words dispelling the tension with practiced ease.

There were a few grumbles, and then the tavern resumed its lively atmosphere, the incident fading into the background as patrons returned to their revelry, the memory of the altercation quickly overshadowed by the promise of free drinks.

I smiled gratefully at Mort, a wave of gratitude washing over me as he handed me a fresh beer. “Thanks,” I murmured sincerely, feeling supported by his gesture. His pat on the back, accompanied by a knowing smile, spoke volumes, affirming that justice had been served.

Making my way over to the shaken new girl, I approached her with gentle concern, noting the tremor in her hands as she struggled to compose herself. Kneeling beside her, I reached out, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with a comforting touch. “Are you alright?” I inquired softly, my voice laced with empathy.

She looked up at me with wide eyes, her fear palpable, and I offered her reassurance in the form of a supportive arm around her trembling shoulders. “I’m sure you’re frightened - come take a minute in the back to collect yourself,” I urged gently, guiding her towards the sanctuary of the back room, my own beer in hand. Settling in beside her, I engaged her in conversation, offering words of comfort and solidarity until she seemed more at ease.

Returning to the bar, I resumed my duties with renewed determination, serving drinks and indulging in more chugs of beer as I bantered with patrons, the memory of the altercation gradually fading into the background as the night progressed.

As jests and playful banter filled the air, some patrons teased me, their words carrying a hint of caution masked in humor. I responded in kind, playfully warning them of the consequences of crossing me, my tone light-hearted despite the underlying seriousness of the sentiment.

Refilling the knights' drinks, I found them divided - two engaged in rowdy revelry while the other three conversed in hushed tones. The big man, his drunken demeanor evident, spoke up with a teasing grin. “That was quite something…” he remarked, his words tinged with amusement.

I met his gaze, amusement twinkling in my eyes as the alcohol dulled my inhibitions. “I’ve been dying to stab that creep for years,” I quipped, a playful edge to my tone. “He’s lucky I didn’t drive the knife through his hand.”

His laughter filled the air, echoing with camaraderie, while the silver-haired man interjected with a hint of disapproval. “You should leave situations like that to those who are trained to deal with such riffraff,” he remarked coolly, his tone betraying his disdain.

Unfazed by his disapproval, I chuckled, the alcohol emboldening my response. “We don’t get many knights around these parts - are you suggesting I wait on the off chance one appears?” I countered with a playful smirk, my words carrying a sense of defiance tinged with amusement.

Before he could reply, the door burst open, and two men strode into the tavern, their fine clothing and Golden Dawn robes marking them as members of high standing. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach as I cursed inwardly, hoping against hope that they hadn't noticed my presence. Unfortunately, their sharp gazes locked onto me with unwavering intensity.

Summoning a hesitant smile, I braced myself for the impending confrontation as they approached.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the larger of the two men demanded, his tone laced with agitation. I glanced between him and the drink in my hand, then back to him.

“Drinking…” I muttered, my response dripping with sarcasm as if the answer were obvious.

He scowled at me, his disapproval palpable. “You’re supposed to be at home. Imagine our shock when we found your tutor, iced to the floor of the study,” he retorted pointedly, his frown deepening with each word.

A mischievous grin tugged at my lips as I shrugged nonchalantly. “A little ice never hurt anyone. I just wanted a drink before everything went to shit - care to join me, brother?” I quipped, my tone tinged with hopeful defiance.

His response was immediate and unequivocal. “No,” he stated flatly. “You’re coming home - someone could know you’re here.”

“How? I’ve been careful,” I protested defiantly, the flush of alcohol lending a boldness to my words.

His gaze bore into mine with an intensity that made my stomach churn. “We saw your mana from the road…” he informed me pointedly, the weight of his accusation landing with a crushing finality.

Oops. Busted.

As the gravity of the situation settled upon me, his attention shifted to the table where I had been serving drinks. Recognition flashed across his features, his eyes widening in realization. “Oh, Captain! I was not aware you’d be here…” he trailed off, his tone respectful as he addressed one of the men at the table.

My own eyes widened in surprise. Captain? Did that mean these were all captains…? The implications of their presence sent a shiver down my spine, the realization dawning on me that my impromptu escapade had far-reaching consequences beyond my wildest imagination.

“I apologize for my sister,” my brother addressed, his voice tinged with a mix of exasperation and amusement. “She can be a bit of a handful…” His gaze remained fixed on me, assessing and scrutinizing.

“Did you start a fight?” My younger brother chimed in, his teasing tone accompanied by a playful poke to my cheek. I swatted his hand away with a smirk. “No. I was merely looking out for a fellow worker,” I replied cheekily, a hint of defiance in my words.

He scoffed in response. “You’re no worker. Quit playing peasant and come home. You’re drunk - father will be furious.”

“Father will get over it. Mort, however, needs my help,” I countered, my steps stumbling as the effects of the alcohol began to take hold.

With a roll of his eyes, my younger brother moved swiftly, effortlessly scooping me up and slinging me over his shoulder. “This scene is your fault, sister,” he remarked with a playful grin, his tone light-hearted despite the situation.

I struggled against his grasp, though I knew it was futile. Weakened by drink and outnumbered by my brothers, I resigned myself to defeat with a huff of frustration. “Bye, Mort,” I called out sadly as I was carried away, my voice tinged with regret.

Mort's laughter followed me as I was ushered out of the tavern. “Go easy on her, boys - she means well…” his voice trailed off, the warmth of his words offering a small comfort in the midst of my predicament.

#nozel silva #nozel x reader #black clover nozel #black clover #black clover reader insert #nozel silva x reader

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redginganinja · 4 years

Note

AHHHHH THIS IS SO GOOD❤️❤️😩

Hi! Idk if you are taking requests but I hope so? Could you do a scenario or Headcanon with TMNT x reader ( all of the boys but separately, or who ever you think it’s more interesting to write this scenario about ) who has drawn them on their notebook or smth in several different poses, also hugging, kissing, handholding the reader? They accidentally forgot the book there and they found it? How they would approach the reader with such a private thing and such? Thank you!

Word Count: 6.9k (Total)

I changed up the request slightly but I hope you still enjoy it!

Leonardo

“Oh,” your voice caused his eyes to pop open, staring up at you while he sat cross legged in the center of the dojo, “Is it okay if I come in?”

He nodded before fluttering his eyes closed, he could hear as your footsteps carried yourself over to beside him. Your clothes made noise as you fell to the floor, the pencil in your hand scraped against the paper after you had flicked to your recent drawing.

“How is it going?” You were slightly surprised when you heard him speak, normally when you came in to draw he wouldn’t say a word.

“Uh, good,” your tongue flicked over your lips to hide the small smile that was forming, “Good.”

“You don’t know how to talk to me, do you?” One of his eyes opened to peek at you, you were staring at your book with a thin mouth, he could tell that you were too unfocused by his statement that you weren’t reading at all. “It’s alright.”

“It’s just,” you sighed and placed your book on the floor to give him all of your attention, “You are nothing like your brothers.”

“Most people consider that a good thing.” You both smiled softly at his amused tone, “I don’t think the world can handle two of any of my brothers.”

“I can’t even handle one of your brothers.” His deep mixed in an odd melody with your giggles, he relaxed from his meditation pose and turned to look at you entirely.

“Be thankful that you don’t have to lead them.”

“Oh, that is all you.” You placed a hand on his upper arm while your giggles were becoming softer, “Trying to draw is near impossible with them around.”

“Why do you think I meditate?” His smile almost doubled in size when your hand didn’t move from his arm, “It’s an excuse for some quiet.”

“Well,” for a moment he thought you could hear his heart pounding when your eyes met his, the colorful swirling captured in your eyes lured him into its depths, “If you ever need some space my apartment is always open for you.”

“I might have to take you up on that offer.” The shared smile between the both of you held high hopes, “Any excuse for some space.”

“Draw with me.” He felt his body betray him with a blush as you placed a hand on his, “It’s an excuse for some space.”

“Okay,” he cleared his throat slightly, doing his best to not let his voice crack, “Drawing it is.”

When you offered to draw with the turtle, you didn’t think it would go this far.

“Stop stealing my pencils, Leo!” You lightly slapped his arm before snatching the pencil from his hands, “I bought you a drawing kit so that you wouldn’t.”

“I like your pencils better,” he shrugged and looked at your pursed lips with a smile, “Can I have the pencil back?”

His smile melted your will and you handed him back the pencil with a sigh, “You’re lucky I like you, Leo.”

“Consider me grateful.” He accepted the pencil and when back to his drawing, his non-dominant arm blocking your view of his drawing.

“What are you drawing?” You leaned over to try to catch a glimpse of his drawing but he pulled the pad away from your sight.

“Nothing,” he shrugged, a slight panic in his voice.

“Really?” You scoffed and looked at him, “You’re lying to me now, pencil stealer?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I’m pretty sure I do want to know.” You offered your hand from him to place the book in, “I promise I won’t tell your brothers.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” He looked away from you, ashamed. You softly placed your hand on his wrist, he looked up to see your small smile,

“It’s me, Leo, you don’t have to worry about anything.”

It was always you, you were the one who could make him smile, you were the one that assured him that he was doing the right things, you supported him, you trusted him, and he fell for you the moment April brought you to the lair.

It had always been you.

He hesitantly handed you the book, part of him feared that you would flee or scream but he knew you, you wouldn’t never hurt him like that.

You smiled softly at the drawing he had handed you, “It’s us.”

His face fell as he watched you blink away tears, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have drawn that. I shouldn’t have drawn you. You’re just so amazing and I-“

“Leo, Leo,” your hands left the book to grab his, the action causing him to stop his rambling, “I love it.”

“You do?” He was slowly relaxing to your touch.

“Of course!” You giggled and moved to sit next to him, your legs brushing against his. You placed the book between you two as you stared at the drawing of you and him cuddling, “Do you have more?”

“You,” his eyes blinked in disbelief, and his breath was ragged, “You want to see more?”

“If you’d let me,” you stared at him with a kind smile blessing your lips. He gulped before nodding his head quickly, his heart and stomach punching him. You turned back to the book and turned to the next page,

“Wow.” You breathed out while Leo was slowly dying of suspense as you stared silently at a drawing. Both of you had closed eyes, he was leaning down as well as you popping yourself on your toes. His fingers were laced with yours as his lips were softly placed on yours. The kiss was sweet and small, you couldn’t tell if it was a brief, nervous first kiss or if it was a kiss that was just to remind him how much you tenderly cared for him.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered after a pregnant pause, “I fell in love with you, I tried to hide it but,” he stared at the side of your face, your eyes never leaving the drawing, “I feel you taking over me: my thoughts, my actions, my everything. I fell in love, and I fell hard.”

His breath hitched to his throat when you turned to face him,

“You aren’t the only one.”

A nervous chuckle fell from him, a smile on his lips, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled back at him, you lifted your hand from the book to place it into his, “I fell hard too.”

Michelangelo

You were definitely the one.

He was laying on your bed, his arms behind his head and one of his legs dangling off of the bed, as he watched you with tired eyes as you rummaged through your desk trying to find something.

“When you said you had a surprise for me, I didn’t think you meant getting a great view of your butt, sweets,” He smirked while you shot him a glare, switching from bending over to view the stack of books next to your desk to crouching as you inspected them.

“For it to be a surprise I had to hide it really well because you like to snoop around in my drawers.”

He chuckled at your words, his eyes peeling from you to look at your ceiling - his smile remaining on his face. He had been forced into an all-nighter patrol with his brothers, to escape from his tired and cross siblings he snuck out to go see you, his grin never leaving as he got to spend the rest of his consciousness with you.

“Finally!” You shouted and bolted up from the floor, papers and books stacked next to you tumbled from their stacked form, “Here it is.”

You walked towards him with a grin on your face, you hid an object behind your back as you sat on the edge of the bed he had reserved for you. He pulled himself up with a groan, his arms instinctively resting on your outer thighs as he crunched up to rest his tired head on your shoulder.

“I don’t think I can move anymore.” He muttered, his heavy eyes closing while he breathed in your comforting scent.

“So no gift then?” He softly moaned as your fingers began to softly rub his shoulders, a smile bloomed on your face as his arms tightened their grip on you.

“I didn’t say that, sweets.” He lazily smiled, turning his head so that he could get a view of the side of your face.

“You’re cute when you’re sleepy,” You traced the shape of his arms while he giggled under your touch, one of your hands slipped from him as you pulled the gift from behind you.

“What is it?” The object was blurry to his eyes, the only thing he could focus on was the side of your face and your burning touch.

“It’s a drawing pad,” you explained with an amused tone, “That way you can draw while I do homework.”

“What makes you think I can draw?” His eyes shut as the rise and fall of your shoulders while you breathed was beginning to allure him into a slumber.

“I’ve seen you spray paint the tunnels,” you only knew he was awake when a smile spread across his face as your fingers unknotted the stress and tension built up in his arms. “You doodle on my homework and notes all the time, and you always have marker on your arms.”

“Guilty,” he mumbled, he moved his head from your shoulder to your neck, his hot breath bringing a shiver down your spine and a blush to rise from your neck to your face.

“C’mon,” you whispered, not wanting to awake him from his much needed rest, “Let’s get you to bed.”

“No,” he dug his head more into your neck, his hands slipping under your thighs and using the last on his strength to pull you into his lap. His arms didn’t move from your legs and he leaned back into the bed, his face still nuzzled into your neck, “I’m not tired.”

“It’s okay, Mikey,” you could feel as the rise and fall of his chest was becoming more steady, you shifted to be more comfortable in his arms, “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Mikey groaned as he heard his brother’s voices, half expecting that he was in the lair and seeing you last night was a fever dream, but he was happily mistaken.

“You woke him up.” He heard your voice chime in next to him, his eyes were stuck with sleep but they shuttered open as you were forming in his view, “Hey, Mikey.”

“Hey, sweets.” He mumbled comfortably, his arms that were wrapped around the back of your upper thighs hoisting you higher and closer to him.

“Mikey,” he hummed as you spoke with a humored tone, “Your brothers are here.”

He popped his head out from your neck to glance at his brothers, Raphael snickering while Leo was scolding the laughing brother, Donatello had a small smile on his face and gave his brother a thumbs up.

He let out weak huff before tucking his head back into your neck, tightening his arms around you and taking note of how your hands were resting on his chest and carving shapes into his plastron.

“Mikey,” Leo’s voice was rough and irritated, “We have patrol.”

“Go on without me,” his arm briefly left your body to wave away his brothers before returning with its heat.

“Patrol includes everyone.”

“Let him be, Fearless,” Raph nudged his older brother with a harsh elbow, “Loverboy here is enjoying himself.”

There was a pause in their conversation, Mikey didn’t have to look up to know that the two were having a tense stare down, when one spoke he knew which one won,

“You have five minutes Mikey or I’ll drag you out of that bed myself.” He could hear his brother’s angry stomping out of your apartment followed by the laughter of his other brothers.

“What’s his problem?” Your fingers were becoming lazy as they moved along him.

“-Shredder-“ was all that you could hear from his mumbling, burying himself as deep as he could in your neck, not wanting to leave you at all.

“Mikey,” you sang his name while the only response you got from him was him squeezing you for a short moment, “You’ve got to go.”

“No,” he whined loudly from your neck, his protests followed with his hands sliding to your back to press you tightly against him.

“Mikey,” chuckling, your hands made their way to cup his face before you pulled away from him, a groan coming from the boy due to the lack of contact, “You can come back after the patrol.”

“Or I don’t leave at all,” he leaned his head back to rest on your pillows, his half lidded eyes staring up at you, “What do you say to that, sweets?”

“I’d say no,” you both turned to see the owner of the voice with crossed arms at your bedroom doorway, “Let’s go, Mikey.”

He sighed as he closed his eyes completely, his head falling back onto your pillows in defeat.

“It’s okay, Mikey,” your words sent a shiver down his spine, his eyes peaked open as you crawled off of him and sat next to him instead, “Knowing you, you’ll be back before sunrise.”

A smile formed on his lips, his mouth opened to say something but his brother’s hand seizing his arm and pulling him from the bed caused his focus to shift,

“Come on, Leo,” he groaned as he watched you giggle while he was being dragged out of your home, “Just a few more minutes?”

He let out a groan as the air in his lungs was knocked out of him when his brother threw him against the wall, “Let’s go.”

The younger brother rolled his eyes as he stood up, his eyes lingering where your bedroom door was before he reluctantly slipped out of your house to greet his brothers.

He groaned as he flopped into his bed, the sweat that beaded down his forehead and the weights his eyelids carried was something that he didn’t want to bother you with at 3 am.

He was too tired to take off his gear, only taking one thing off of his person, a drawing book that he slammed down on his already crowded nightstand. His eyes rested on the pad, half wanting to relive the night you gave it to him and the other half wanting to just be in your arms as he drifted into unconsciousness.

Music blared in his ears while he mouthed along with the fast paced words, he laid on his bed as he dragged his pencil in long strokes against the paper. Each stroke adding to a drawing of you in his arms, similar to the position he held you the other night.

A smile crossed his face as he was almost done with the colorless sketch, his heart was full with the idea of having you in his arms again.

He was dragged from his thoughts as his headphones were ripped from his head, he turned to see his older brother glaring down at him,

“Mikey, you left the kitchen a mess again.”

“I’ll be down in a minute,” he sat up to reach for his headphone in his brother's grip but his brother stepped away from him.

“Now, Mikey.” He tossed the headphones back at his little brother before leaving the bedroom.

“Now, Mikey.” He mocked behind his brothers back, he stood up reluctantly and went to the messy kitchen - his attempt at baking a sweet snack for you and him to share when you were supposed to come to the lair after work went to the drain rather quickly. He groaned when he finally noticed the aftermath of his rampage, knowing that he would really have to work to get it done before you arrived.

You slipped into the lair quietly, knowing that it wouldn’t be unlikely for one of the brothers to be fast asleep on the couch, and began to make your way to the youngest brother's bedroom.

You expected him to be in his room, but he was absent. You dropped your bag against one of the walls before flopping onto his bed, landing rather uncomfortably on his pencil. You shifted to pull the pencil out from under you when you caught sight of an open drawing pad.

You sat up as you pulled the book into your lap, a smile on your face as you examined the drawing.

“Sweets,” your eyes popped up from the drawing to see Mikey standing at the doorway. You flipped around the pad so that he could see what you had discovered,

“I knew you were good at drawing.”

“Sweets,” he lunged after you as you began to flip through his drawings. “Give it back!”

He threw himself at you while you giggled, you managed to keep the book from him while you flicked through some of the drawings. You immediately froze when you came across the one he feared that you would, he snatched the pad from your hands in your moment of weakness. He turned away from you with the drawing pad in his hands, a heavy blush settling on his face and tears prickling at his eyes.

“Get out.”

“Mikey,” your voice was soft as you reached out towards him.

“Just get out!” He whipped around as he yelled, his face falling when you flinched away from him.

“Just go,” he croaked, shaking his head before turning his back to you while his hands gripped the book. One of his hands raised to clamp over his mouth when he felt your weight leaving his bed, he tried to choke back a sob as his tears ran across his hand.

“Talk to me,” he watched through tears as you sat in front of him, your hand going to the one that was going pale due to his grip on the thick book, “Please.”

“I-“ he pulled his shaking hand away from his mouth, “I-“ he sniffed and wiped his running nose, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Mikey,” you scooted closer to him, your hands moving from his to wipe away his tears, “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” he leaned into your touch, his watery eyes stared into yours, “Because I fell in love with you.”

He could feel himself shattering as you pulled away from him, your eyebrows knit in confusion, “I-“

“I’m sorry,” he turned his head away from you, his voice fragile like broken glass, “I’m so sorry.”

His breath left him when you stood up, taking long strides towards the door, freezing before your hands could touch the doorknob. You turned back to look at the turtle. He was curled into a tight ball, his knees pressing against his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs, his head buried between his knees as he let his tears spring from his eyes and fall along his legs.

Your feet brought you to stand above the boy, your hands slipped under his chin and tilted his head to look at you, your body acting without consulting your mind as you captured his lips in yours.

He slowly unraveled from his fetal position, your hands slipped to the back of his head as you crawled into his lap, your body curving into his. His hands hesitated slid to your hips, gripping them tightly when you pressed yourself against him. Your lips parted from his for a moment, the pants coming from both of you assuring that he too had lost his breath in the kiss.

“Sweets, are you sure-“ before he could even finish your lips desperately attached to his, his soft churring grew louder as your nails clawed at his neck.

He pulled away, gasping for air, frozen under your touch,

“Kiss me,” your hoarse voice made his eyes flutter to a half lidded state, “Please, Mikey.”

He nodded frantically before slipping his lips into yours, his hands beginning to roam your body earning soft moans from you.

The book discarded on the floor meant close to nothing to you both in this moment, it’s open pages revealed just what brought on the declaration of passionate love: you were straddling his lap, your shirt was in the process of being discarded while his hands inched along your exposed skin that were littered with small marks of love.

Donatello

It was more of an accident than purposeful.

He was slouched in his lab, looking over his notes trying to find what he did wrong but his mind was too liquid for his own sentences to make sense. He would pause to sigh and rub his face, take a sip of his now cold coffee before attempting to go back to his work. The words swirled like vultures circling prey, he groaned before pulling his glasses off of his face and softly massaging his pounding head. His head hurt too much to focus on his work, but his stubbornness refused to let him succumb to sleep.

He clicked the pen in his hand and squinted at the words on the page, his eyes slowly devouring the words while his hand absentmindedly started to doodle on the margin of his notes. His eyes crawled to the drawing, his attention now on the swirls that he drew. He frowned tiredly as he began to make the swirls into a legible drawing.

He didn’t realize quite what he was drawing until he was done, the single eye he drew was familiar, but in his tired state he barely recognized who it belonged to until he heard a soft knock at his locked lab door.

“Donnie? Are you still awake?” Your soft voice killed the headache that fought his brain, he was jolted with a sudden alertness as he managed to piece together that the eye he drew belonged to you. A soft yelp escaped from his lips at the realization, he scrambled to cover up the drawing before he shouldered his way to the door - unlocking it quickly to meet your surprised face.

“I didn’t think that would work,” You chuckled lightly, you took his arms into your hands and led him to his room, soft and tired protests falling as mumbles from his lips.

“You need sleep, real sleep.” You kicked open his bedroom door and led him to his bed, his steps getting more off-balanced and sluggish.

He barely made it to his bed before he collapsed, resting on his side, he felt as your hands pulled off his glasses followed by all of his other equipment littering his body. He watched with heavy eyes as you tucked him into his bed, part of him wanted to grab you and ask you to lay with him. As he watched you, his imagination ran wild with the idea of you: laying down next to him, your warmth forcing him to be addicted to your touch; how your body would fit perfectly against his, your head deep in his neck that he’d be able to smell your fruity shampoo, your legs tangled in his, your arms rested against his chest while his were snug around your waist; you’d wake up with slightly parted lips, begging him to kiss you awake but he wouldn’t, he couldn’t wake up your peaceful state and would stay there as long as he could hold you in his arms.

“You’re pretty,” He didn’t know if he said it out loud or not, but your response told him that you did.

“Thanks, Don.” You giggled, he cursed himself for forgetting your giggle in his short day dream, and pulled his blanket up to his chin. You pressed a soft kiss to his temple, a giggle and snort came from him in response as well as a toothy grin and a blush, “Sleep well, Donatello.”

He hid in his lab after he woke up, reflecting on his behavior last night that brought a maddening blush to his cheeks and thoughts that he couldn’t quite shake from his head. His notes were now filled with your name surrounded by hearts, small scribbles of you littering the margins. His eyes casted over to the photos of you crowding his desk, he hadn’t dared to try to trap your beauty on a page but as he stared into your eyes that held nothing short of love and glee, he pulled out a blank sheet of notebook paper and began his new project.

“Oh, hey,” you shot a quick smile at the dragon who finally left his cave, in his hands papers of treasure he clutched close to him, “I just made some coffee.”

A nervous smile twitched on his lips, he accepted the mug of the dark liquid as you slid it over towards him. His hands shook slightly as he picked up the mug, his eyes never leaving the kind smile on your lips.

“We’re doing a movie tonight,” you offered the creamer to him, despite knowing that he would refuse as always, “Mikey and Raph claimed the couch, and Leo his chair as always, so I guess you’re stuck with the floor and me.”

He nodded at your words, fearing that if he spoke his voice would crack under your kind, soft gaze.

“Raph is choosing the movie tonight so I’m sorry if I cling onto you during the movie,” a soft chuckle escaped you while you spoke, knowing that you very well would be cuddling with the turtle with or without the horror movie of Raphael’s choosing.

A blush rose to his cheeks thinking of you clutching onto him all night, how the movie wouldn’t matter to him as long as you were in his arms.

“I-“ his voice cracked, earning a muffled giggle from you, “I look forward to it.” He managed without his voice cracking, but only doing so by forcibly lowering his voice an octave.

“Okay,” you chuckled and brushed your hand against his arm as you walked past him, “I’ll see you then.”

He could feel his whole body light up with your touch, he scrambled to grab the cup of coffee before fleeing to his lab, inspiration striking every fiber of his being.

“Donnie?” You slipped into the quiet lab, calling the turtle’s name, “We’re about to start the movie.”

You carefully stepped through his lab, avoiding the steaming beakers and messily placed papers, “Donnie?”

You walked to his main desk, disappointed by the lack of his presence at the desk but bursting into a smile at the sight of photos surrounding various papers. You sunk into his large leather gaming chair, your eyes glancing over the papers crowding his desk. Your eyebrows knitted in confusion at the sight of drawing, not knowing that Donnie had an artist side to him, and began to inspect the drawings.

You let out a grin at the sight of a drawing of you holding a stack of papers with goggles askew on your head, you shifted through the drawings, finding all of them of you. Some just random moments of you - giggling at something Mikey had said, smiling with Raphael as you read one of his comic books, squished on the couch with his brothers while you all encouraged Mikey as he played a video game.

You didn’t notice eyes on you as you rummaged through the drawings, part of him wanted to stop you, but seeing the smile on your lips he didn’t dare move an inch.

You chuckled lightly as you discarded a drawing of you snuggled on the couch while clutching a pillow and a large hoodie devouring your figure, your eyes moved from the drawing to the next one. Heat rose to your face immediately, at the sight of the one in your hands: you were straddling him standing on your knees while his arms pressed against your bottom, pulling you completely into him, your fingers brushing against his lips while your foreheads were pressed together.

You would have never tore your eyes from the drawing if another hadn’t caught your attention, you gently held the new drawing in your hands: you were leaning against him, as if you were falling, your hands were placed on his chest while one of his was steadying you by pressing against the middle of your back, the other gripping your waist, his head leaned down towards yours as your lips were connected.

Your breath was caught in your throat as you stared at the intimate drawing, almost feeling his lips on yours as they were in the detailed art.

He leaned on the table to watch you closer, he placed his hand on a shelf to see if he could catch sight of your face but the shelf gave up his weight and he fell far less gracefully than he meant to. Papers flew as he fell, along with the destruction of all of that was on the shelf.

“Donnie!” You were quick to his side, helping him up with blushes on both of your faces, his arms rested in yours as you faced him, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he couldn’t look in your eyes, not wanting to know how you stared at him knowing what his favorite recent pastime was.

“I-“ you breathed out, not knowing quite what to say; whether to admit your guilt or play off the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach.

“You’re allowed to hate me,” his voice was weak, matching his slumped and small posture, his voice cracking as he spoke on the verge of tears, “You can yell, tear up my lab, hit me, or-“

You cut him off with your lips on his, a soft kiss that was only a second long but didn’t fail to make his knees wobbly and a nervous laugh and snort coming from him, his hands shook as he reached for yours.

“Or I can do that.” You accepted his sweaty hands into yours, fitting like a missing puzzle piece, “And you can come watch the movie with me.”

“And cuddle?” His voice was high pitched, not recovering from the kiss yet.

“Yes, Don,” you giggled, “And cuddle.”

Raphael

At first, Raph was angry.

He had wanted a new set of weights but instead he received a leather bound notepad with a phrase engraved on the back,

To Bring Peace To The Hopeless

He would stare at the phrase for days after his birthday, never understanding what the cryptic words meant or what it will mean. He would flick through the blank pages, waiting for some forbidden knowledge to pop out at him but there was nothing.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later did Raph find a purpose for it, he had shoved it between his mattress and the frame of his bed to even out his bed - out of sight, out of mind - but when he stormed to his room after another fight with Leo, his father was the one that came for him.

He started by asking if his son had kept the book, a scowl on his face when his son pulled the notepad from under his mattress. He gave a brief lecture of how to maintain care of the leather book and its blank pages before he told his son,

“I have hopes that drawing will bring you the peace that you deserve, my son.”

With his words of wisdom, the humanoid rodent left the room with a small, knowing, smile on his face.

Drawing will bring you the peace, Raph stared at the book with his father's words running wild in his mind, his large finger following the dents that the engraving on the back had left.

He huffed before flipping open the book, the blank page almost mocking him, he grabbed a broken pencil off of his floor and debated whether or not to dig the pencil into the cream colored page and make dark marks of scribbled anger. He growled before tearing his eyes from the page, not knowing what to draw on the page.

He fell back into his lumpy mattress, clutching the book to his chest as he rolled over to his side to get more comfortable. His eyes immediately fell on the photo resting next to his bed, he lifted himself up by his elbows and reached for the picture. A smile formed on his lips as he stared at the moment captured in glass; you were smiling brightly, your face squished up against his - blushes heavy on both of your faces - you eyes held nothing but pure joy as you both were lightly covered in flour. That day you both were banned from the lair’s kitchen, but it was worth the memory that never failed to bring a smile to his lips and a familiar feeling of punching butterflies in his stomach.

He placed the picture next to his notebook and began to sketch the photo onto the blank page.

“Hey stranger,” he promptly slammed the book shut as you leaned over his shoulder, your hands resting on his shoulders, “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” he huffed, a blush flooding his face as you moved closer to him.

“Nothing?” You repeated, not convinced by his words in the slightest, “Since when do you keep secrets from me?”

“It’s not a secret,” he shook his head and placed the notepad next to him, “It’s nothing.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but shouting from your kitchen pulled you away from the turtle to his two younger siblings who were both bickering and breaking things in your kitchen.

He sighed in relief as you left from his side, trying to prevent any more chaos in your apartment from the brothers. He reopened his notebook, his recent drawing unfinished but was close to being done. It was another drawing to his collection of your portraits, some of just you, others of you and him. It began with just normal poses, you smiling, you laughing, you reclining on your couch with your phone in your hand, you dancing when you won against his youngest brother at a video game. But the most recent ones, they were ones of pure fantasy. You holding his hand - your fingers laced with his, so detailed that for a moment he could feel your hand in his; you snuggling into him as if letting him go would be your downfall; your lips - the way they pulled when you smiled, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you tried to muffle a laugh or suppress a smile; and his favorite, one that he had filled most of the pages with, was of you and him kissing - of what he imagined the softness and nervousness of a first kiss with you would be like, how you would kiss his cheek to calm him down, kissing his forehead to remind him of your devotion to him, how your kisses would travel across his skin reminding him that you wouldn’t shy away from loving him completely. But they were all dreams unlived, he knew he could never love them or match the real you.

The way you tilted your head back when you let out loud laughs, your smile that would never fail to make his legs weak, your eyes that he could look into forever if you would have let him, your hands that always left a lingering warm touch to his skin.

That he could never capture on a single page.

“Raph,” his eyes popped up from his book that he shut quickly after being pulled from his mind, “Help!”

You were holding back Mikey who was attempting to throw sugar at Donnie, making quick jabs at how Donnie needed to be sweeter to him, the eldest was holding back the genius who managed to weaponize coffee grounds.

Raph discarded his notepad and went to aid you, managing to get the sugar out of his brother’s hand and pull him from the kitchen.

“Both of you, lair, now.” Leo commanded after he was able to push Donnie to the ground, glaring at the two youngest boys, “You two are going to work this out or so help me.”

They grumbled something as they made their way to leave your apartment, apologizing curtly as they passed you for making a mess in your kitchen.

“Come on, Raph, I’ll need help.” Leo nodded towards you as a farewell before pushing his brothers out of the door towards your small balcony.

“Right,” he groaned, sending you a kind smile before going after his brothers.

The apartment was almost deafening silent as the brothers had left, making your way to the broom closet to get out cleaning supplies when a foreign object was on your couch.

Your hands slipped around the leather book, almost immediately recognizing the book as Raphael’s. You felt guilty and dirty with the book in your hands, you felt even worse as you peeled open the book.

The very first drawing as an odd looking face, the proportions fairly off which brought a small smile to your face. You continued to flick through the pages when the face began to morph and become recognizable.

“Oh my god,” Your smile fell as you saw a drawing that was almost a mirror image of you, you continued on, watching your life through the eyes of Raphael before the drawing were no longer memories or moments of past time but images that you were sure to remember if they were true.

They were soft and tender, kisses, hugging, hand holding, sleeping in his room with his arm draped across your body, sleepy smiles, and one that you lingered on, tracing where his pencil once was: a drawing of his hands softly cupping your face as his scarred and splitted lip inches towards what you believed were yours, your fingers lingering on his hands.

“Hey, sweetheart, have you-“ you turned to see the owner of the drawings pulling himself into your home, his face void of emotion as he stared at you with his book in your hands.

“I-“ you shut your mouth as he stormed over to you, snatching the book from your hands, you were unable to read his face but all of your breath left your body and you wanted to hide under his glaring.

“How much of it did you see?” You flinched at his growling, your eyes slowly traveling from the floor to meet his.

“I really like them,” He stumbled away from you, one of his hands gripping the top of his head, his eyes were closed as he debated the dilemma swirling in his mind. “I didn’t know you thought of me like that.”

“I didn’t know either,” his eyes were still closed as he responded, his voice barely about a whisper and his body frozen, “Not until I start drawing you. You were-“

He took a deep breath, removing the hand from his head in the process, his eyes catching a look of everything on its way to meet yours, “You were my muse. My peace.”

He began to take steps towards you, his fingers lightly hit yours as he stood in front of you, his head bowed, “You are my peace.”

When your fingers wrapped around his wrists, the fire of your touch made him look into your eyes, you led his hands to your jaw - his hands lightly cupping your face out of an unknown instinct.

“You drew something like this,” you looked into his shining eyes as he stared down at you - his eyes were wide, his lips were parted as he struggled for breath, his stomach was punching itself at how close you were to him and he was frozen in place. “It’s my favorite one.”

“It is?” His voice was small, soft, fragile.

“Yeah,” you smiled at the boy, you bit your lip to hide your excitement as he leaned closer to your lips, your eyes were fluttering to a close as he pressed his lips against yours. His rough lips were softly pressing against yours but didn’t dwindle the fire that erupted in you both. He could feel the flames as it rose to your face, as your fingers danced from his wrists to his shoulder, fire spreading with your very touch. One of his hands slipping to the back of your neck to pull you closer to his lips, the soft noise that came from you made the fire explode from his stomach to his entire being.

You slowly removed your lips from his, smiles wide on both of your faces as you both took some time for air, his hands moved from your head to your hips, keeping you trapped near him,

“Wow,” he breathed out, soft chuckles coming from both of you.

“Better than you thought it would be?”

“It was amazing,” his forehead rested against yours, his thumbs softly tracing strange shapes on your hips, “You’re- I-“

You cut him off with a kiss on his cheek, abruptly stopping him from searching for words, “I liked it too.”

Your fingers traced the scars that littered his shoulders, your forehead never leaving his and both of you couldn’t quite catch your breath together, but you both were at peace in each other's arms. Drawing did bring him peace, with you in his grasp and your lips ghosting over his, his peace was you.

A peace that he deserved.

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