#2018 tmnt x reader

[dancingdonatello]

hi there! i literally can NOT get enough of your writing, it's so good omg

so i was just brainstorming (thought this up like a few seconds ago so sorry if it's crappy or something)

but could i request a rise!donnie x gn!reader where the reader is just like completely unimpressed by donnie and everything he does, so when donnie noticeably becomes hurt by it (because it's basically like a huge gunshot to his ego) the reader softens up almost immediately out of sympathy

i would elaborate more but this ask is already getting long and i want to see your take on this :) again, sorry if it's bad or just confusing (or if you've already written something similar to it idk), i understand that you could be very busy so ignore this if you'd like

have an amazing day!

rottmnt donnie x gn reader

“So, what do you think?”

You stared at the contraption that Donnie was holding in front of you. You waited for him to press a button or whatever but instead he held it higher for you to see.

“Um, does it do anything? Is it like a decoration… or?” You gave him a confused look when nothing moved or flashed or anything.

He puffed out his chest, a confident look in his eyes. “It’s meant to—”

A puff of smoke hit him directly in the face face and you grimaced as he coughed.

Then it began to shake in his hands.

He jumped, immediately trying to set it down when it exploded, sending scraps of metal everywhere. He yelped, shaking his slightly burnt hands out in pain.

More and more of his inventions were becoming messier and easier to break. He was always so eager to show them to you too and you couldn’t figure out why.

You brushed the debris off of your shirt, glancing at him and noticing how he scrunched in on himself.

“Um, it could’ve been cool? If it had, y’know, worked? I guess?” You tried, shrugging your shoulders. You were more worried about whether this black dust would stain your new clothes. You really didn’t want to go shopping again so soon.

You turned to leave when you heard a loud bang. You jolted, looking over your shoulder.

Donnie had placed the remnants of his invention of his desk and collapsed in his chair.

He looked… defeated. Your words probably did not help.

And to be honest, you thought back, had you ever complimented any of his work? You couldn’t really remember… It probably didn’t feel nice to be shrugged off when showing off your passion and then having it explode.

You sighed, looking around. “Wow… that thing looks cool!”

“…The microwave?” He sounded confused.

“Um… yeah!” You ran over, pressing some buttons. “I love the sounds… it makes. Good button noises. Nice beeps too.”

He stared at you and you swallowed nervously before his expression brightened. “You… love it?”

“Yep!” You pressed another button. “Super awesome.”

He was suddenly in front of you, tail wagging behind him. “You want one? I can make you one. What color do you want? I highly recommend purple… but I could be convinced to do another color.”

You left the lair with three different microwaves, struggling to get home with all the weight. You hoped a microwave thief wouldn’t cross your path.

[fizzywashere87]

Can you write a raph oneshot where reader comforts raph after the kraan incident and gets him a giant plushie

notes: yuhhhh i need to be doing more oneshots anyways :D I hope you like it and apologies for the super duper long wait!

M.List

It'll Be Okay, Big Man

You know it's crazy how fast society moves on as a whole after the world was so close to ending.

It's crazy how quick they just forget four mutants stopped an alien invasion.

Even as the city was being cleared of the debris, torn buildings, the weird ooey-gooey bubble gum looking fungus? Not even scientists knew what to call it. Either way, even as they seen the evidence something big had went down in New York City everyone just seemed to move on, making jokes about it for clout and giggles, nobody seemed to be too shaken at what happened, yeah?

Humans just seem to be silly like that. They don't acknowledge anything that they don't fully understand. Well, while society as a whole moved on, forgot that the sky opened to make way for a huge alien spaceship that seemed to come from the back of a fucking Lebanese shawarma restaurant, forgot about how it looked like a deadass apocalypse went down in New York, there were a few that acknowledged what actually happened- you could even go as to say they were in the center of everything that went down. They were probably the ones that made the spaceship explode, they were probably the ones that made the sky close back up, they could have been the reason New York was able to go back to whatever was trending that week. Don't ask me who, I probably wouldn't know.

It's hard to move on like the news channels decided they would when you were in the middle of it.

Who are these people? I know you're waiting for me to shit it out

Raphael was having a lot of trouble moving on like those silly humans did.

Those stupid thoughts wouldn't leave his head like he wished they would. This wasn't like him at all, he was so out of it. He doesn't even remember what he did under the Kraang's control if he was being deadass. Part of him wishes he did but the slightly bigger part was grateful he doesn't.

Raphael couldn't help but think it was his fault, what exactly? Everything. From the very beginning, to the end of it where it almost ended in his younger brother getting stranded in a whole ass different dimension with something his dad would've told him wasn't real because monsters didn't exist, it was Raph's fault.

Everything that happened that day still haunts him, and he hasn't told anybody about it.

Raphael hasn't told anybody how he gets little flashes- little visions- images- whatever you wanna call it- little touches- feelings- it doesn't matter. It was evident to him that the battle he had to fight internally to win the external was far deeper than he thought. 'Tough shit,' he wants to tell himself. He tries- he really does, he wants everything to be normal again, those little arguments with Leo he could deal with, they always made up- but more importantly he just wants that sticking feeling to go away.

Raphael felt dirty.

You had a feeling Raph wasn't being honest with you. He seemed... off. That's sugarcoating it, he seemed as if he was ready to break down at any moment- any second- you felt it coming.

So there you were heading, to him, you'd already sent a text explaining you on the way to the lair, ready to see your boyfriend. He seen the text and had replied with an 'okay! <3' to which you smiled at softly and picked up your pace, you and the teddy bear in your hand. You were gonna dominate the world with that motherfucker, jus look at 'im!

Earlier, you had decided to put a little gift basket together for your boyfriend. You'd figured he'd needed some extra loving right now, he wasn't so great at hiding it. That- or you knew him very well. Why can't it be both?

You put little pieces of candy you were sure he liked, a king sized bar of Twix because let's be fucking real, they're better than your grammies cookies. You'd included little plushies, a blanket, a little album of pictures with his family- you and April included, and the teddy bear which was currently in your other hand.

Raph would like it, and you hoped it would make him feel better, at least bring a sense of comfort to him in his state. Maybe added cuddles and kisses would help if it didn't. For once, you were confident in your ability to give gifts to people you actually like. The chances of him liking it were higher than the chances it would make him feel worse so you figured- hey! why the fuck not?

You're such a good partner.

Alas, you arrived at the lair, goodies in hand, high hopes for your reptilian boyfriend. You walk some ways to find Raph in his room, curling a dumbbell whilst sitting on his bed. You smile and walk towards him with the gifts in hand, "Hey teddy bear," im sorry i visibly cringed. "How are you?" You ask, testing him, will he lie and tell you he's fine? Will he open up to a conversation about it? You hoped it was the second option.

Raph's face lights up as he sees your good looking ass, even more so as he sees you brought gifts too. "Heya sugar! Raph's doing just fine," Liar "how about you?" He smiles and gets up, placing the dumbbell down and pulls you into a gentle hug. "You brought gifts?" He adds with a smile.

You decided to ignore his little lie, as you were going to bring it up in a bit anyways, instead, choosing to answer his questions. "I'm doing alright," you add with a smile, reciprocating the hug best you could with the things in your hand. "Yeah, I figured you needed a smile." And that was your first attempt to attack the situation.

Raph raised a brow, and allowed you to put the stuff down, and sit on his bed. He joined you, the bed dipping at his added weight. "Why do you say that sweetie?" You knew him better than he thought.

"Well," You start, "Lately you've been off, and by 'off' I mean you seem upset. Upset with yourself. And you've been on edge." You finish, looking at him, scanning his face, and you came to the conclusion he was about to break. "Do you want to talk about it?" You gently ask, placing the teddy bear in his lap.

Raph sighed, so many things, so much stress, so much fear. Damn. "I'm not a good brother." He says quietly, so quietly you thought it was in your head. After convincing yourself he actually spoke and you didn't hit your head that fucking hard in the morning, you sigh quietly and bring him closer to you.

"Why do you say that?" You murmur quietly, rubbing his arms in a comforting manner. You scan his face for any clue, hint, anything that might give it away (thought you were sure it was the reason you had in mind). His eyes welled up with tears and you sighed. "You don't have to tell me right now." You assured him softly, you'd figure he would talk about it when he was ready. You look to the basket of stuff and a soft smile comes across your face, he needed a small distraction right now.

"Hey Raph," You start and he looks to you with glossy eyes, giving a hum in response, you offer a small sympathetic smile to your boyfriend in return and reach for the basket and had it to him. "You never got to look at what else was inside, would you like to do that instead right now?" You ask and a small smile makes it's way across Raph's face. He clears his throat and nods, "Sure thing, sweets." He looks at you in gratitude as a silent way of calming down and thanking you for it.

Raph opens the basket and his small smile turns into a brighter grin, "Aw baby, my favorite candy! I knew keeping around would do me some good!" He gives you a wet kiss on your cheek making you giggle and swat at him with pink cheeks. "Hey!" You couldn't keep the giggles from escaping as you tried to sound mad at him for his comment, "What did you mean by that?!" Raph chuckles and shrugs, "Don't worry about it." He replies. As he looks through the basket he finds the little plushies and immediately his sadness is gone. "Baby!" He pulls you onto his lap and squeezes you tight (always careful to never be too tight), he pulls out the blankets and wraps them around you both, immediately feeling back at home. He finds the album and immediately you feel some weight lift off of his shoulders as if you two were one.

You two spend the rest of the night flipping through the photo album under the blanket as he snacks on his candy, plushies all around you guys, problems pushed aside for now. It was just you and him.

Raphael's problems were nowhere near gone, nowhere near fixed and if he sat quiet for long enough he would feel that need to be cleansed- he would feel dirty again.

Even though that may be true, he simply didn't feel it when you were there to make his mood better, it didn't erase his problems, no,

but he knows you'll always be there to tell him,

"It'll Be Okay, Big Man."

[mrabubu]

Karaoke nights at resistance's base be like:

[stellaspectral]

Hi! Any headcanons for dating rise donnie?

A/N: Sure! 😊

Dating Rise Donnie (SFW)

💜 ROTTMNT Donatello/Gender Neutral Reader 💜

CWs: None. All characters are aged-up.

Donnie’s initial attempts at flirting might just sound like his usual sarcastic commentary, leaving you wondering if he’s insulting you or hitting on you.

But when he does decide to ask you out, expect something needlessly complex. Maybe a holographic presentation detailing the benefits of a romantic partnership, or a custom-built gadget meant to deliver the message that backfires spectacularly.

His hyper-focus, occasional arrogance (masking insecurity), and social awkwardness require understanding. You’ll need to learn to read between the lines of his sarcasm.

Since direct emotional expression isn’t his forte, you’ll become an expert at reading his micro-expressions, the specific type of sarcastic comment he uses when he’s secretly pleased, or the way he fidgets with his goggles when nervous.

Over time, you might notice moments where a genuine, non-sarcastic compliment slips out before he can catch it. He’ll likely blush, stammer, and immediately try to cover it with more sarcasm, but you heard it.

If you’re upset, his instinct isn’t always a hug (though he might learn). It’s to solve the problem. You’ll need to gently explain that sometimes you just need empathy.

Donnie’s love language is acts of service. He’ll build you custom gadgets to solve your problems, upgrade your tech, etc. Need something specific? He can probably build it.

Verbal affection, on the other hand, is … awkward. Compliments might come out sounding like technical assessments. Genuine, heartfelt words are rare. He might stutter or get flustered trying to express them.

Donnie isn’t always the most physically demonstrative of affection, partly due to his focus and often his touch aversion. Initiating small gestures and seeing how he reacts is best. Once comfortable, he might surprise you with possessive hand-holding or leaning into your space.

He doesn’t display overt PDA. But maybe him resting his hand possessively on the back of your chair, angling himself between you and perceived ‘threats’ (like overly friendly strangers), or using custom tech (like a paired communication device) that subtly marks you as connected to him.

After a huge success (a battle won, an invention perfected, etc.), he might be so overcome with adrenaline and relief that he actually initiates a brief, possibly clumsy hug or leans against you. Don’t make a big deal out of it; just accept the rare physical vulnerability.

When he seems extra arrogant or dismissive, it sometimes masks insecurity. He might fish for compliments by presenting an invention and asking for your ���objective analysis,’ secretly hoping you’ll just say it’s amazing.

Praise is his kryptonite. He thrives on validation, especially regarding his intellect and inventions. Genuinely praising his work or intelligence will make him puff up with pride.

When he excitedly explains the intricacies of quantum physics or the schematics for his latest battle shell upgrade for twenty minutes straight, he’s sharing his passion with you. A big sign of trust and affection on his part.

If you’re passionate about something, he might suddenly become an expert on it overnight after intense research. He might not share the passion, but he’ll understand its mechanics and history, which is his way of connecting.

Prepare for dates involving beta-testing his latest invention, competitive video game marathons (he will gloat), trips to the junkyard for components, or maybe even falling down rabbit holes on weird corners of the internet together.

Though a significant portion of your quality time together will likely be spent in his lab. Sometimes you’ll be helping (handing him tools, being a sounding board, etc.). Other times you’ll just be chilling amidst the controlled chaos while he hyper-focuses. Oh—and bring snacks. He forgets to eat.

Eventually, you’ll get your own lab space. It might just be a small, meticulously organized corner of his lab initially, but he’ll later designate a space for your stuff or for you to comfortably hang out.

Once you’re his person, he’s incredibly protective. He’ll use his tech and intellect to keep you safe, even if his methods are … unconventional.

If you’re ever in genuine danger, the sarcastic, dramatic Donnie vanishes. He becomes ruthlessly efficient, calculating, and terrifyingly focused on neutralizing the threat and getting you to safety. His tech becomes lethal, his plans precise.

One of the best signs he’s truly comfortable is when he can just exist in the same space as you, both doing your own things (him tinkering, you reading/scrolling/etc.), without needing constant interaction.

He secretly loves being taken care of. When he’s truly exhausted or sick (which he’ll deny until he collapses), having you bring him soup, enforce rest, or just quietly sit with him means more than he’ll admit.

It takes immense trust for him to let you see his experiments blow up (literally or figuratively) without him getting overly defensive or dramatic. If he can sigh, complain about the variables, and start cleaning up with you there, you’re truly integrated into his process.

For Donnie, acknowledging the validity and soundness of your reasoning, especially during a discussion or debate, is one of the highest forms of respect and affection he can offer. It means he sees you as an intellectual equal.

[fishsticksloser]

I just read your fic of Leo using reader as a heater and I need moreeee

please please please can you write a Donnie version?🥹

Industrial Heater

Donnie x gn!reader

Warnings: cuddles, clingy Donnie, kisses, brumation

A/N: I've been dealing with a lot of hand pain and migraines so I apologize for disappearing.

As you settle into Donnie's lap, he continues his work, the soft churrs from his chest creating a soothing backdrop. He occasionally nuzzles against your neck, a rare display of affection. Normally, he avoids close contact, but during brumation, he craves the comfort you provide. The heat radiating from you and the gentle weight of your presence seem to lull him into a peaceful state, keeping him warm and relaxed.

Despite his condition, he was determined to keep pushing through his work. His instincts drove him to finish his projects, regardless of how fatigued and sluggish he felt. However, it was clear that he couldn't maintain this pace indefinitely, so you made every effort to support Donnie as he labored on, until he eventually reached his limit and collapsed into bed.

A few hours into this, Donnie emits a weary groan. His eyes begin to droop, blinking slowly as he sinks back into his chair. Gradually, he stands up, cradling you in his arms, your legs having long since gone numb.

He scoops you up and brings you to bed, lying back with you nestled on him. His churring grows louder, and soon his eyes begin to close. "'So warm..." He pulls you in tight, emitting soft, comforting chuffs.

"Anything for you, Don." You plant gentle kisses on his plastron, feeling the delightful vibrations of his churrs resonate against your lips. He responds with even louder churrs, giving you in a tender squeeze.

With a gentle motion, Donnie shifts you onto your side, wrapping himself around you to capture the warmth. He presses his face into your neck, releasing a blissful sigh. "Should've done sooner..."

"I tried telling you..." You playfully tease, your fingers gliding gently along his arms, offering a soothing touch.

"Jus for that... You're stuck 'ere..." He emits a soft grunt, tightening his embrace around your waist. A playful, sleepy growl escapes him as he buries his beak into the side of your neck.

[khayalli]

reader x turtles doodle dump because i simply do not have it in me to clean these up

bonus raph one. it wasn't gn so I wasn't sure whether to include it but hey ho! he deserves soft love also

[regretisstoredintheme]

I just had an idea! And I think its cute yet funny and maybe even a little angsty, but hear me out. Reader got a crush on rise! Donnie but doesn’t act on it/tries to stomp it down cuz Donnie is obviously married to science. But then! He got accidentally splashed/drunk a love potion (which actually heightens the emotions and feelings for a person that are already there) and Donnie looks at reader and he falls for them! (He already had a liking towards them but now it got heightened)

He still acts like himself but in love and more boldly!

Reader feels conflicted because they like the attention and stuff Donnie gives them but also sad because Donnie only acts like that because of the potion. Shenanigans ensue, till the potion wears off andddd you decide how it ends

I thought this could be a pretty fun prompt/theme/etc to do

Also you’re amazing! Love you’re writing! I definitely vote for you! And I hope you have an amazing timezone!

*crawls out of cave and GRASPS request*

Well hello there heh… if it isn’t my imaginary audience!

In the name of Science (A oneshot) - Rise!Donatello X Reader

Warnings: Possibly OOC? if you’ve seen the ROTTMNT episode “mind meld” then this will be fine In comparison

A/N: I know this isn’t exactly what was requested, but I hope it’s fun to read! I feel like I’m a full fledged fanfiction writer now that I have a love potion story 😭😭 I doubt this person even remembers their request anymore, but it was great inspiration nonetheless, thank you to them!

—

Here’s the thing, Donnie wasn’t exactly the easiest turtle to get a hold of. Not when he’s holed up in his room, working on the next big this or the breakthrough that.. at least, he always seemed to be, around you. Clearly he was avoiding you, right? Why would he be so boisterous and proud around his brothers and then suddenly become a recluse with you? April suggested he was simply not warmed up yet, however the little inkling of doubt in your brain strung into the long thread of yarn that wove a different tale.

No, he had to hate you. Maybe then it wouldn’t hurt so much. If he hated you, and didn’t simply not like you.

That’s why this was so conflicting.

He had been giving a demonstration, only to you, of something that he had created. (Of course, nobody else was home for him to rant to, naturally he would target the one person who happened to walk into his lab. This wasn’t special, you weren’t special, right? It was a matter of chance— don’t get your hopes up.)

The genius scientist seemed rather excited about this mysterious concoction, which he held in a glass vial. Something, something Oxytocin something, something heartrate— it was lovely just to see him ramble to YOU for once— not that this was special, of course.

At the last possible moment, he had offered you the vial, a proud smile on his face as he suggested you take a closer look at its contents. Unfortunately, you were a little… side tracked. It was heavier than you had expected— even if only by a few grams— that unfortunately didn’t matter when you were staring at the glass on the floor and the mysterious solution that had spilled everywhere including on the two of your feet. You were wearing shoes, but Donnie— well, he never wore shoes.

Donnie’s eyes widened as he looked up at you, horror etched in every wrinkle of his frown. You looked so apologetic, so, so very sorry that his only successful experiment was lying in pieces on the ground. Your eyes were so worried, so caring about what he had to say, and well…

“Shit.” Donnie threw his eyes in another direction, grabbing a rag from off the counter and squatting to try and get the solution off his skin. He hadn’t thought of the idea that it might work through topical use… Ergo! He was royally fucked.

“Donnie? Donnie seriously, if there’s any way I can make it up to you—“

He swallowed, looking back in your direction only to see your face again. How he hated the worry on your face, if it was any other situation he would have been angry and frustrated— but this was different. The solution was for you, anyway, what did it matter if you broke it? It was yours, and so was his heart the moment he laid eyes on you.

“Don’t—“ he coughed, “Don’t you worry your pretty head about it, it only took me a few days to make.” He shrugged it off like it was nothing, the flames of his frustration strangely suppressed under the blush on his face.

Pretty? That was new. He’d never spoken that way before..

“Donnie?” Your head tilted, eyes widened.

He liked that look on you, the confusion of his behavior— it meant you were paying attention. “What? This?” He glanced down at the mess, which seemed like a puddle of nothing now, he stepped through it to get closer. “Don’t worry about that.”

You were starting to wonder what the experiment actually was…

Meanwhile, Donnie was wondering how important his mysterious bad boy image actually was..

“Don’t worry about it? Donnie, what did that liquid do?” Your voice was like music, if he were himself, he would have been upset with how little you had paid attention, but you were looking at him now, weren’t you? He’d be happy to re-explain!

“A neuron chemical enhancer.” He spoke in that way he always does, but upon seeing the confusion grow on your face, he found himself wanting to elaborate in your terms. He loved your terms. “I curated it specifically for… romance.” He continued to explain, getting a little closer to you now. It was subconscious, he didn’t even realize he was doing it, he simply was.

That’s when it clicked. A love potion, that’s what it was— he had chemically engineered a love potion — what for? Why did he make it? You weren’t sure, but you knew his sudden advances couldn’t be genuine.

And yet, as his hand grabbed your wrist, you found yourself.. yearning for this side of him.

“Are you hurt? Didn’t get hit by the glass, did you?” Donnie asked, despite the fact that he, himself was standing in the shards. Jesus— you knew he was made for war, but… Wasn’t that uncomfortable? You’d never seen him so worried about anything other than quadratic equations..

“No— no, Donnie— are you sure you’re quite yourself?” Your words were drowned out by the smile on his face, the sigh of relief in which he was so glad you weren’t hurt. He couldn’t bear if you were hurt by one of his experiments, it would crush him. “Oh I’m so glad!” He immediately lit up, the kind of expression you were sure only his brothers saw— if his brothers even looked hard enough to see it. It was the kind of look he gave when he entered a library, when he was showing off an invention. The way his eyes crinkled at the edges and he lightly squeezed your arm, “Well, now that that’s taken care of, how about we sit down so you can listen to more of my thoughts?” It was too much.

“Donnie, Donnie— I’m starting to get worried about you..” your hand rested on his shell— well, on his battle shell, and he frowned, his brows raised, “well, if you don’t want that, perhaps I could interest you in some other stimulating entertainment?” He gestured grandiosely back at his elaborate gaming setup, hoping to tempt you into gaming with him.

“No, not like that,” You almost wanted to laugh, he was suddenly so desperate to keep you in his lab. “You don’t normally act like this… this.. interested..”

Interested? Whatever could you possibly mean? He hadn’t the foggiest! “Surely you’re not declining?” He frowned, brows furrowed.

“No, I’m just saying,” You continued to try and explain your point, lightly pushing him away and watching as he descended into discomfort at the distance, “You’re never this touchy— you don’t touch at all, in fact. This all started with that experiment… are you sure you’re not…”

Donnie’s eyes searched your expression as you spoke. He was unable to make eye contact for more than a moment, but he blamed that on your superb features. “Not what?” He folded his arms, more and more upset as he was pushed away. “Do you suddenly dislike my presence?”

“Donnie, no..” you sighed at the soft shell’s… soft shell. “Are you sure you’re not under the influence of anything?”

The turtle laughed, no, scoffed right in your face. “Me? Influenced by something? Please.” Donnie ‘susceptible to hypnosis’ Hamato confidently got closer again, now convinced you weren’t avoiding him for the reasons he was worried about. “The only thing I am influenced by is the way you captivate me.”

He paused, a look of horror appearing back onto his face. Okay, he was seeing it now. Did that really fall out of his mouth? He… no, it couldn’t be— could it? He… he sounded like… like Leo! His hand covered his mouth.

It seemed his experiment had finally worn off.

“Oh no.” If it was possible, he went pale in the face, the confidence from earlier completely stripped away as he stood with only a racing heart and flushed face. “What happened? What did I do?” He speedily backed up, momentarily lapsing memory of the past five minutes. You immediately felt bad.

“Nothing, Don, are you okay?” Of course it wasn’t real, why would it be real? He was just embarrassed by how the solution affected him.

Donnie grimaced, remembering what had happened in the span of a few moments. Many emotions were coursing through him right now— discomfort, embarrassment, frustration… and disappointment. “I’m…” his furrowed brows softened, his expression shifted to remorse. “It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way.” He folded his arms once again, his hands clenched into fists.

What did he mean by that? As a matter of fact…

“Donnie, what was the potion… originally for?” You took a step forward, over the spill on the floor. The terrapin huffed, “it’s not a potion. It’s not mystic— I made it myself!” He was caught between wanting to be haughty and proud of himself and feeling bad for.. well..

“And.. it was for you.” He sighed, fiddling with his elbow pads, “I thought I could win you over with the power of science— clearly my methods weren’t as successful as I would have hoped.” He didn’t feel guilty, no— rather, he was upset the potion.. sorry, SOLUTION hadn’t worked for a longer period of time. “It clearly wasn’t strong enough..” he frowned, frustration building back up in his chest, “I’ll have to start from scratch, perhaps I can up the concentration of the liquified gasses…” he turned to his work station, his notes, reading on as if you weren’t there.

“It was for… me?” It felt like a bomb exploding in your chest. He what!? For you? For why? You approached the desk, seeing as the lists of chemical compounds and experiments, diagrams of neuron pathways and the science of this thing called “romance.”

He was doing everything in the book BUT courting you.

“Donnie?” You placed his hand on his shoulder this time, to which he lifted up his goggles and met your gaze, “hm? Yes?” He didn’t seem at all phased by you figuring out his plan, rather he seemed more steadfast in his science.

“Was it for… you.. and me…? For…?”

Nod.

“You know this isn’t necessary, right?”

Pause.

“..What’s that supposed to mean?” He furrowed his brows, what were you saying now? He tapped his fingers on his desk, waiting eagerly for your reply. You took deep breaths, stilling your heart beneath his intense gaze.

“I already like you, Donnie.”

….

He stood from his desk, staring at you. His eyes held something unintelligible, searching your face. His brows furrowed and mouth slightly agape, you could swear he had stopped breathing.

……..

………..

“What?!”

—

A/N: considering Donnie had literally changed his brother’s brain chemistry in making them more like him, he is NOT above trying to change the thought processes of someone he likes LMAOOO

[sweaterrat]

Eyes💛💜

@tmnt-ocxcanon-comp

[chadobi]

I promise guys , I’ll get to your requests soon! But for now, I hope you’ll enjoy this one💜

“Under a Blanket of Code”

Bayverse!Donatello x Reader

The power had flickered out about an hour ago.

Mikey screamed something about the pizza oven dying and Raph immediately took it as a sign of the apocalypse. Leo was trying to organize a response plan, but Donnie had already disappeared into the darker parts of the lair—heading toward his lab like a man on a mission.

You didn’t even ask. You just followed him.

It was quiet in his workspace. He had a few emergency lights wired up, casting everything in deep purple and gold. Small LEDs blinked from different shelves, some flickering faintly like fireflies. In the middle of it all, Donnie was crouched beside a stack of servers, furiously typing on a portable rig.

You leaned in the doorway, watching him. He muttered something about “backup fuses” and “secondary distribution lines,” and then paused.

“I know you’re there,” he said without looking. “And I’m not mad. Just… mildly panicked.”

You smiled. “I brought tea.”

That made him glance up. His glasses caught a soft glint of blue from a nearby monitor, and he blinked, surprised. “Oh. Uh. Thank you.” He took the thermos from you awkwardly, hands still faintly buzzing with static.

“Want some company?” you asked gently. “I figured you might need backup.”

Donnie hesitated for a second too long. Then he nodded. “Actually… yeah. That would be nice.”

He gestured to a low platform on the floor surrounded by wires, toolboxes, and glowing screens. You kicked off your shoes and stepped carefully between cables. A fuzzy blanket was already half-draped over the space, clearly something Mikey had tossed aside days ago.

You plopped down, crossing your legs. “So what’s the damage?”

“Main power grid’s fried,” Donnie murmured, sitting beside you. “Generator’s holding up, but I’m going to need to do a manual reroute.” He adjusted his glasses with a tired sigh. “In the meantime, I figured… might as well make the place livable.”

He grabbed a small remote and tapped a button. A string of soft purple lights lit up overhead—cheap LED strips, flickering slightly, but warm in their own way.

“Donnie,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Did you build yourself a tech blanket fort?”

He looked flustered. “No. I mean—not intentionally. I was optimizing work conditions, and the blanket just… enhances acoustic absorption and comfort for long-term programming sessions.”

“So,” you grinned, “a blanket fort.”

He huffed. “Fine. Yes. A highly advanced blanket fort.”

You giggled and tucked the edge of the blanket around your shoulders. “I love it.”

He blinked. “You do?”

“Of course. It’s kind of perfect.” You leaned back slightly. “It’s warm, quiet, glowy… and it smells like solder and coffee. Very ‘you.’”

Donnie was silent for a beat. Then, he mumbled, “I wasn’t sure you’d like it down here.”

You turned to him. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He shifted awkwardly, fingers fidgeting with a loose wire. “Most people… wouldn’t exactly enjoy sitting in a dark lab full of failing circuits and overheating processors.”

“I’m not most people,” you said softly.

Donnie didn’t respond at first. He looked down at the blanket, at the way it pooled around the two of you, and then carefully set aside the laptop.

“You know,” he started, voice lower now, “sometimes I forget there’s a world outside this lab. Not in a dramatic way, just… I get stuck in my head. The math, the logic, the endless systems I can’t control—sometimes that’s all I focus on.”

You were quiet, letting him talk.

“And then you show up,” he continued. “With tea. And sarcasm. And blankets.” His gaze lifted to meet yours. “And suddenly the world feels… a little quieter. Like the code finally compiled.”

You smiled, heart thudding gently in your chest. “Is that your way of saying you like having me here?”

“Yes,” he said immediately. Then cleared his throat. “I mean—logically speaking, your presence has a statistically significant impact on my overall mood and cognitive focus.”

“Donnie,” you said, nudging his arm with your elbow, “just say you like me.”

He went red. Deep red. The color crept all the way to his bandana. “I—okay—fine. I like you. A lot.”

You laughed and leaned your head against his shoulder. He froze for a second, then slowly, slowly relaxed under the pressure.

“I like you too,” you whispered.

Donnie didn’t say anything, but you felt it—the soft exhale, the way his hand curled just slightly closer to yours under the blanket. He didn’t need grand declarations. Not tonight.

You sat together in the tech-fort, surrounded by quiet buzzes and blinking lights, with the world outside temporarily short-circuited.

And honestly?

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[dancingdonatello]

Hii!! You said send requests so a request i will send! All i need is romantic fluff donnie x reader maybe reader overworking, forgetting to eat and drink water cause of it? Idk just fluff!

2018 donatello x gn reader

“You know that I’m the only one allowed to do this.”

You shrieked as a bottle of water and a sealed cup of diced peaches fell onto your head and bounced onto the desk you were sitting at.

You turned around, shocked to see your turtle boyfriend, who had promised again and again never to break in again, stare at you with an unimpressed and totally over exaggerated disappointed look.

“You promised!” you gasped, too shook to say anything else.

“I lied.” He lifted you up and you squirmed in his grasp, fighting for freedom. He effortlessly held you with one arm, using his free arm to scoop up the items he had dumped on your desk earlier.

He threw you into your bed and placed the water and food next to you before flopping down next to you.

“You didn’t answer any of my texts,” he nodded to your phone that was on your bedside table, forgotten, “and in our ten page agreement, I did write that I could break in if I was worried for your safety.”

You picked up your phone and saw that he had texted you an hour ago. “Just because I didn’t answer you for a few minutes does not mean I’m in danger,” you groaned in annoyance, yet melted into him when he slung an arm around your waist to pull you into him. “You’re such a hypocrite too. Ugh.”

He shrugged, not caring a single bit. “So? Statistically, I get stuff done. You just make yourself an anxious mess.”

“That is not true!” you argued before he swept a hand into your knitted hair. You had ran your hand through your hair so many times that it had gotten tangled. You shut your mouth and decided to ignore his smug look.

You crossed your arms and turned away, ignoring how he pawed at your tense arms to try and cuddle.

He let out a sigh of defeat and instead curled his arms around your waist, nuzzling his snout against the nape of your neck.

You smirked at the blank wall in front of you. You had successfully gotten him to lay down in a bed without having to threaten to knock him out first.

[mindless-existence1]

Kinktober Day 2

Kinktober Day 2-Sex Pollen

Rise!Donnie x reader

Authors note: Donnie and reader are around 20 in this and dating. They haven't had sex tho and reader is gn. Enjoy!

Requests open for fluff and kinktober along with regular fics!

"Y/n! Y/n! Donnie needs you!" Sheldon's voice echos through out the lair as he speeds around the large room. You were sitting with Raph in the "living room" of the lair working out. He was bench pressing while you did legs.

Raph looked up from where he was laying down but turned away when he realized he wasn't the one needed. You set down your weights and get up from your sitting position. "See you later, good luck!" Raph calls out to you with a chuckle.

Sheldon flys by you making small talk with you as you walk to Donnie's lab. "Did he say what he needed?" You ask the robot. He shakes his mechanical head, "Nope just that I had to go get you, bring you to the lab, and then go find something to do for a few hours."

You nod your head in understanding untill the last instruction is said. "What? Why would he not want you in the lab?" Sheldon shrugs his shoulders as much as he can, whooshing past you with a wave goodbye.

After a moment of thought you knock on the lab door, it takes one hit for the door to opens quickly. You gasp in suprise at the quick movement, once you come back to yourself you walk through the doors. Looking around the room to find Donnie you wall through the lab.

Behind you the doors shut quickly with a quiet slam. "Don? Where you at man?" Your voice slightly echos through the large room. You hear a muffled call from across the room, you make your way over from where you hear the sound.

When you see your boyfriend he is pacing back and forth with a rope in his hand. When he sees you his eyes immediately drop, refusing to look directly at you. He speeds towards you, you notice how his hands twitch towards you but stay at his sides.

"Y/n I need to ask you to do something that might seem...strange." Donnies voice wavers in embarrassment. "I mean everything about our lives is strange so ask away."  It's now that you realize Donnie is breathing heavily, he clears his throat a couple times.

"You ok?" You ask softly, your voice hesitant. Donnie nods his head quickly. He shoves the rope into your hands with a blushing face. "I need you to tie me up." Your face contorts to a shocked expression while Donnie looks away, his face getting more flushed by the second.

You try to stutter out a an answer but can't find the words. "Tie you up? Why?" Donnie just shakes his head, "You don't need to know, please just do it." Donnie seems to think for a moment before speaking. "You know that weird thing we found in the hidden city? Yeah well it hit me with this powder and now I feel...weird."

In confusion you touch his shoulder to help his shaking. He let's out a shaky breath and leans into your hand. "Donnie I'm worried what's wrong?"

"Just tie me up frist please and then I'll tell you. Promise."

After a few minutes of fumbling around in awkward silence you find a desk leg to tie him to. "You sure about this?" Donnie just quickly shakes his head, sitting down on the floor and putting his hands behind the chair leg.

It takes you a minute to tie his hands tightly together but when you do you get up and look down at the flushed terrapin. "Ok so what is happening?" He stays silent for a while.

"I think the thing we found had aphrodisiac in it. Or in simple terms....sex pollen." Donnie clears his throat, looking up at you for the first time you came into the lab. His eyes seem to be on fire The way they are trained on you.

"Sex pollen?" You ask. Donnie comforms with a nod and slight squirm of his hips. "And you want to be tied up why?" Your question seems to suprise the terrapin. "Because i don't want to go on a sex marathon with the first thing I see?" Donnie seems to regret his choice of words so you keep your teasing to yourself.

The two of you had been dating for around 7 months but haven't done anything yet. Donnie was a virgin, you had minimum experience, and it just didn't seem like something that needed to happen. Now that didn't mean you didn't think about it. Your boyfriend is sexy and you definitely know it.

One of your hands come up to rub his plastron you lean into his ear, "I could help?" Your words shock Donnie, making him flush. "You don't need to do that." Donnies voice is hesitant, like he knows what he's saying is going against what he wants.

"And if I want to?" Your voice is sweet like honey that Donnie can't resist. "Y/n" Donnies voice is shaky. "Please help me." He slightly thrusts his hips into the ground at the feeling of your hand scratch down his plastron.

Your other hand goes down towards his tail, you don't know much about mutant turtle anatomy but you can remember a bit about the class Donnie gave you. "Wait y/n!" You stop your movements, looking up at him. "I don't want our first time to be when I'm drugged up on an aphrodisiac."

He seems embarrassed by the words like they are a forbidden request. "That's ok baby, we can just do hand stuff." Donnie thinks for a moment and nods his head. You begin your movemt back down towards his tail. You look between his spread legs and see a small slit on his tail.

"What's that?" Donnie chokes on a moan bubbling up in his throat at the feel of your fingers lightly playing with his tail. "Cloaca." He whines the words, just barley able to get them out from his heavy breathing.

You use your thumb to lightly rub the tip of the soft tail. "Can I touch it?" The words seem to wound him the way he moans. He quickly nods his head with a whine.

You smile, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "Common Don, use your words." The whimper that falls from his lips is sweet to your ears. "Yes please, God y/n just-" He cuts himself of his a moan torn from his throat when you slowly start to rub your fingers on the small slit.

You take your time massaging it, after a minute you push your fingers into the slit. Donnie can hear how pathetic he sounds but can't stop the whine forming. Your fingers go in fully, you stay still for a second before beginning to thrust them in and out.

Every whimper that fall from Donnine lips is desperate and airy. You start to feel your fingers brush against something in his hole. "Fuck y/n I'm going to drop, fucking please." At this point he doesn't know exactly what he's begging for but can't stop himself from doing it.

Confusion contorts your features and Donnie must realize since he starts to explain. "My penis comes- fucking hell-through my cloaca and- holy shit please slow down." Donnie moans and stutters through every word.

To give him a break your fingers slow down to more lazy thrusts till they are mostly just massaging the inside of Donnies hole. Donnie tries leveling his breathing but can't with the way you tease him whenever he seems to calm down.

With a smirk you lean into the crook of his neck and whisper, "You were saying handsome?" With a light nibble on his neck. Donnies face flushes from the feeling of your feather light kisses to his neck. "My dick comes out through my cloaca."

Donnie rushes out the words as quickly as he can. When he's done speaking you begin thrusting your fingers back into him. What you now assume is his dick starts to prodd at you fingers. Everytime you touch it Donnie let's out a choked off moan.

"Y/n st-op." Donnies words suprise you, causing your fingers to immediately stop and pull out of him. He whimpers at the loss. "I'm sorry what-" you get cut off by the wet sound of Donnie 'dropping' and the moan that follows.

"Holy shit Don." Is all you can say under your breath. Donnie slightly squirms his hips after you don't do anything for a minute. "Needed you to pull out your fingers so I could drop. I cant..come without droping." Donnie grumbles.

"You ever try?" The words suprise both you and Donnie he flushes and shakes his head. "Guess we'll just have to try that out another time." Before Donnie can attempt to respond you move your hands to pump his length.

He whines and throws his head back onto the desk it only takes a few pumps of your hand for Donnie to start trying to fold in on himself. "Going to come holy shit." Your hand moves faster on him. He comes on his lower plastron with a moan that makes you glad his lab is securely sound proof.

Every breath Donnie takes is shaky and comes in sharp pants. Everything hurts, his cock hurts from somehow being both over and under stimulated, his skin feels warm and too tight. But he wants, he needs more.

Donnie continues to buck his hips into your hand despite the tears forming in his eyes he whines. "Don't stop please." Donnie starts to beg, he can't help but love the way your hand pumps him. The pollen doesn't seem to be wearing off but the only thing Donnie can pay attention to at the moment is you.

[mrabubu]

this ask took some time to make, but, yeah

[stellaspectral]

I’m in the mood for a rottmnt Donnie x reader where Donnie has the realization that he has fallen in love with his best friend, a nerdy girl who can be both the sweetest human in the whole universe or the sassiest little gremlin, and he has no clue what to do with it.

Awkward moments + our genius Donnie making a fool of himself + annoying siblings teasing him but secretly trying to make the ship happen + some tooth rotting fluff at the end!

Thank you for writing for the tmnt fandom! I love the way you write, I’m so happy that I found your blog and your fanfictions!

A/N: Thank you, this means so much to hear! I’m glad you found my blog and enjoy my fics! It really makes my day to know my writing is loved and appreciated 😊 I hope you enjoy this story as well! 💜

Neural Network Overload (fluff)

💜 ROTTMNT Donatello/Female Reader 💜

CWs: Fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers, love confessions, first kiss, teasing siblings, awkwardness & embarrassment (poor Donnie!), and very very mild angst. All characters are aged-up.

There’s no scientific explanation for what’s happening to Donatello Hamato.

He’s a genius. A self-made technological prodigy. He operates with logic, with precision. Emotions, while acknowledged, are typically compartmentalized into manageable sectors of his brain.

But apparently, there is no compartment big enough for you.

You’re curled up in his hoodie, legs tucked underneath you on the lair couch, hair messy and glasses slightly crooked as you stare intently at the screen of your laptop. You’re reverse-engineering one of his drone’s command scripts. For fun. And maybe because he challenged you to, and you couldn’t resist.

Donnie is across the room, supposedly working on his battle shell. He’s holding a micro-soldering iron. But he hasn’t used it in thirty minutes. Because his eyes haven’t left you once.

You chew on your bottom lip when you concentrate. Do this little wiggle when your glasses slide down your nose, refusing to use your hands because you don’t want to break your work flow. You snark like it’s a superpower, but then turn around and give him the most genuine smile.

And that’s when it hits him.

He’s in love with you. Utterly. Completely.

The realization is instant. And horrifying.

Because you’re his best friend, his partner in crime. The one who yells at him to eat when he’s working too long and calls him out when he’s being ‘a smug, purple smartass.’ You’re also the one who listens to his rants, who understands his sarcasm. Who laughs at his dumbest puns and wears his hoodie like it belongs to you.

Still, somehow, he finds himself wanting more.

He wants to hold your hand when you’re hyper-focused. Wants to tuck your hair behind your ear when it falls in your face. Wants to kiss you after you sass him into a corner.

So naturally, he begins malfunctioning, dropping his soldering iron with a loud clatter.

You glance up, raising a brow. “You okay over there, D?”

He clears his throat, sitting up too straight. “Yes! Fine. I am functioning at optimal capacity, thank you very much.”

You squint at him, not convinced. “You sure?”

He tries to scoff, tries to pull off his signature aloofness. But his voice cracks halfway through and he ends up choking on air instead. You blink. And he wants the ground to open and swallow him whole.

This is mortifying, he thinks. A master of composure reduced to a sputtering mess by a simple question.

You set your laptop aside, concern softening your features. “Seriously, Don-Tron, you look like you’re about to short-circuit. Need some water? Or … a reboot?” Your attempt at a tech joke, one you know he usually appreciates with a dry chuckle, now makes his internal processors whir with panic.

He waves a dismissive hand. But it’s far too jerky, betraying his inner turmoil. “Negative! My … my processors are merely … recalibrating. Due to … atmospheric particulates!” He cringes internally. Atmospheric particulates? Really, Donatello? That’s the best your genius brain could concoct?!

You give him that look, the one that says you’re not buying it but will play along. For now. “Atmospheric particulates? In the sewer lair? Okay, Dr. Science.” The familiar nickname, usually a term of endearment, now feels like an accusation.

“Precisely!” he squeaks, then clears his throat again, trying to regain some semblance of dignity.

You rise slowly from the couch, still in his oversized hoodie, and Donnie swears time skips a frame. The hem swishes at your thighs as you pad barefoot across the lair towards him. “Alright, Doc. Let’s run diagnostics,” you say, tone playfully serious as you step into his space.

He stiffens. You’re standing too close. Not objectively close, but close enough that your shampoo tickles his sensory nodes.

“You don’t look optimal. You look like your neural network is spiking.” You tap his plastron with a single finger. “You overheating or something?”

“Preposterous,” he says, backing up, only to bump into the cluttered mobile workbench he was using. Casually, he tries to lean against it—only to knock over a container of screws. They spill everywhere.

“Uh-huh,” you murmur, folding your arms. “Definitely optimal.”

He wants to say something sharp. Something deflective. Maybe even something sarcastic. But then your face softens again, like it always does when you realize he’s not okay. And you do that thing where your hand rests gently on his forearm for grounding. For reassurance.

And his brain completely blue screens.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” you say, your voice quieter now. Not teasing. Not joking.

His vocal processors seem to have staged a mutiny. “Talk?” His voice shoots up three octaves, thin and reedy. “Regarding … what, exactly? The inevitable heat death of the universe? The latest advancements in neural network architecture? My … my perfectly standard, non-deviant, utterly nominal vocal output?” The last few words are practically a shriek.

You blink at him. Once. Twice. Then you slowly reach up and adjust your glasses. “I was gonna suggest talking about what you’re feeling,” you reply, tone dry. “But sure. Let’s start with the heat death of the universe and work our way backwards.”

If Donnie had a fan system, it would be blasting at maximum speed. Instead, he just stands there, frozen, trying desperately to reboot a single coherent thought. His brain is still trapped in a loop: She’s touching me, she’s touching me, she’s touching me—

“Unless …” You lean in slightly, just enough for him to notice the glimmer in your eyes, “the topic of feelings is causing that spike in temperature.”

He lets out a noise. Not a dignified one, but the auditory equivalent of a dying motherboard holding on for dear life. The sound escapes him before he can stop it, and your brows shoot up. He clamps a hand over his mouth.

There’s a beat of silence where you both just exist. You, with that slightly smug, knowing tilt to your head. And him, doing his best impression of a panic-stricken robot who just got hit with an unexpected firmware update.

Donnie’s hand remains glued to his mouth, eyes wide as if his own body has betrayed him on the most fundamental level. His other hand twitches at his side, like he’s running mental diagnostics but getting only error messages.

You place your hand over his. Gently pry his fingers away from his face. His eyes meet yours, still wide. Terrified. Then slowly—so slowly, as if buffering, he speaks, voice tight and squeaky around the edges. “That was … That wasn’t … I didn’t mean—”

Then, inevitably, the peanut gallery arrives.

Leo saunters into the room, stretching lazily. “Hey Donnie, have you seen my …” He stops short, taking in his brother’s rigid, almost statuesque posture and your amused yet concerned expression. His eyes narrow before that familiar glint of mischief appears in them. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“Leo, don’t you dare,” Donnie practically hisses, voice still several octaves too high. His gaze flicks between you and his blue-clad brother, a trapped animal assessing escape routes where none exist. “This is a … a highly sensitive recalibration process!”

Leo smirks. “Recalibration? Looked more like a full system crash from where I’m standing.” He looks at you. “What’d you do? Confess your admiration for his meticulously organized and alphabetized collection of bad guy threat assessments?”

You snort despite yourself, and Donnie lets out a strangled noise that’s one part gasp, another part groan, and three parts existential despair.

“Leo,” he says, tone lethal but wobbly, “do you have literally anything else you should be doing?”

“Not when you’re this entertaining,” Leo replies with all the smugness of someone who’s been waiting his entire life to catch Donnie mid-swoon. “Seriously, bro, I’ve never seen your face that flushed. Are you overheating or blushing?”

“I do not blush,” Donnie replies, his voice clipped and brittle, like it might snap in half under the weight of his own embarrassment.

You tilt your head. “I dunno, D. You are sort of radiating the same energy as a stressed-out Roomba caught in a corner.”

Leo cackles. “Ohh, that’s good. Can I use that?”

Donnie glares at both of you with the kind of energy typically reserved for malfunctioning lab equipment or Raph’s punching of things labeled FRAGILE. “I hate you both.”

“You love us,” Leo says. “But especially her, huh?” He throws you a wink and ducks just in time to avoid the screwdriver Donnie hurls in his direction.

After the tool clangs harmlessly off the wall, Donnie shouts, “Out!”

Leo exits stage left, laughter echoing through the lair.

Silence falls again. Except it’s not really silence—because Donnie’s heart is practically trying to punch its way out of his chest, and you’re biting your lip to keep from laughing too hard.

“Alphabetized villain assessments, huh?” you tease.

“It’s called preparedness.”

You poke his side, grinning as you tease, “But especially me, huh?”

His eyes meet yours. And this time, even through the flustered static still buzzing around his brain, he answers honestly. “I could never hate you.”

The next day, everything goes downhill.

Donnie spills oil on his blueprints. Walks into a wall. Nearly blows up his mini fusion cell because he accidentally enters your name instead of the energy input variable.

Leo, of course, catches his slip-ups instantly.

“Broo,” he drawls, dramatically leaning against Donnie’s workbench in his lab. “You’ve got it bad.”

Donnie stiffens. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” Leo says, twirling a stray wire between his fingers. “You only turned redder than a mutant tomato on prom night when she asked you to pass that tool thingy.”

Donnie scoffs. “That doesn’t even make sense. What mutant tomato? Prom night? Leo, your analogies are garbage.”

“Not as garbage as your poker face, lover boy.”

Mikey slides into the lab, grinning like a fox. “So when’s the wedding?”

“I-It’s not—!! I don’t—!!” Donnie sputters.

“Dude.” Even Raph joins in, chuckling. “Just tell her. We all know you like her.”

“I do not like her,” Donnie insists.

But then he thinks of the hoodie—his hoodie. You wearing it. The soft fabric, the way it hangs off your shoulders, the scent of you mixed with the faint, familiar smell of his own laundry detergent. The image flashes in his mind, clear and warm, and a traitorous little flutter happens somewhere in his chest cavity.

Threatening his self-control.

He covers his face with both hands. “Okay, I might like her.”

Raph raises an eyebrow. “Might?”

“Definitely,” Mikey says, voice sing-song. “You’re toast, dude. Emotional toast. And not the crunchy, golden-brown kind. More like the kind that fell butter-side-down into a pit of feelings.”

Donnie groans louder, dragging his hands down his face. “This is not how my cognitive trajectory was supposed to go today.”

“Then allow me to suggest a new trajectory.” Leo gestures grandly. “Operation: Tell Her Before You Spontaneously Combust.”

“Negative. Absolutely not. That’s a suicide mission.”

“Correction,” Raph says with a grin. “That’s a you’ve-got-a-chance-so-don’t-blow-it mission.”

Donnie bolts upright, pacing now. “You don’t understand. If I confess and she doesn’t feel the same, I lose everything.”

“She wears your hoodie,” Mikey says, as if this fact alone should end the discussion. “That’s like a universal sign of mutual crushing.”

“Correlation is not causation,” Donnie mutters, then spins around with wide, panicked eyes. “And what if she’s just being … nice? What if she just thinks of me as—”

“Don’t say ‘brother,’” Raph interrupts with a grimace.

Mikey throws an arm around Donnie’s shoulders. “She reverse-engineered your drone code for fun. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”

“Donnie.” Leo crosses his arms. “You’re stalling. Again.”

“I require more data before making a declaration.”

Leo smirks. “Or you could just ask her how she feels.”

“Statistically, that has a high margin of—”

“Just talk to her,” Raph says. “Before your nervous system explodes.”

Later that night, you’re snuggled back in Donnie’s hoodie. It still smells faintly of him. Something uniquely, comfortingly him.

You’re on the same spot on the couch, scrolling through lines of code. It’s Donnie’s latest security encryption. It’s unnecessarily complex, almost ridiculously so, like he wanted to see if you’d lose patience with it.

You haven’t. And if anything, you’re more determined than ever to crack it.

Donnie stands just inside the lab entrance, fingers twitching at his sides, almost like he’s mentally rehearsing lines. He watches you, a soft, almost bewildered expression on his face. For once, he doesn’t even try to analyze the storm of variables churning within him. He just feels it. All of it.

He clears his throat, the sound a little too loud in the quiet lair. He walks over, hands clasped tightly behind his back, his usual confident stride replaced with something a little more careful. Like he’s approaching a very delicate, potentially explosive experiment.

You glance up, a warm, welcoming smile spreading across your face. “Hey, D.”

He sits down beside you, perhaps a little closer than strictly necessary, but still maintaining a careful distance. You can feel the slight warmth radiating from him. You wait, watching him with an encouraging gaze.

“I …” he starts, then stops. His brow furrows. He swallows, eyes darting away for a nanosecond before refocusing on some indeterminate point near your shoulder.

“You okay?” you prompt gently.

A faint flush of pink dusts his cheeks. “No atmospheric particulates this time,” he mumbles, the words barely audible.

You smile wider, your heart doing a little flutter. “That’s a relief.”

Then he says it, his voice dropping to barely a whisper, gaze fixed firmly on his now-trembling hands in his lap.

“I like you.” His hands twitch, fingers interlacing and unlacing. “Like. More-than-best-friend like. Not just ‘you-stole-my-hoodie’ like—though, for the record, that is also a contributing factor. I mean. You can still steal my hoodie. In fact, I … I hope you do. Often. Preferably forever.” He finally risks a tiny, hopeful glance at you.

A soft chuckle escapes you. “Donnie, is this your version of flirting?” you ask, your tone gentle, your own cheeks feeling a little warm.

“I … I genuinely don’t know,” he admits, looking utterly lost, his shoulders slumping a fraction. “I think I’m glitching.” He looks so earnest, so vulnerable, that your heart melts.

You lean forward, your smile softening into something tender. You reach out, slowly, giving him time to pull away if he wants. He doesn’t. You cup his cheek with your hand, your thumb gently stroking his skin. He leans into your touch. Eyes wide, a tiny, almost inaudible sigh escaping him.

“Well. For the record?” you say, and he holds his breath, his gaze locked on yours. “I like you too, Donnie. Like, ‘please keep giving me impossible tech puzzles so I have an excuse to spend ridiculous amounts of time with you because you’re brilliant and funny and sweet.’”

He blinks a few times before his systems finally restart. A slow smile spreads across his face, lighting up his features. To you, it’s like watching a sunrise. “You … do?” The disbelief in his voice is almost painful, but it’s quickly being overridden by dawning joy as he digests your words.

“I’ve been waiting for you to catch up, genius,” you tease, your thumb brushing along the line of his jaw. “Took you long enough. I was starting to think I’d have to spell it out in binary.”

He exhales a short, shaky laugh. Part shock, part awe, all relief. “My predictive algorithms … they … I was running every probable outcome. This one … this one had a statistically lower probability than I preferred, given the stakes.” He shakes his head, still smiling that dazzling, rare smile.

“And which one did your brilliant brain finally land on?” you murmur, your faces incredibly close now—so close you can see the way the light catches the unique patterns in his irises.

He leans in, his gaze dropping to your lips for a breath before meeting your eyes again, his voice a soft, warm whisper against your skin. “This one.”

Then he kisses you.

It’s hesitant at first, a gentle press of lips. Careful, like an experiment he wants to get perfect. You can feel the slight tremor in his hands as one comes up to rest on your waist, the other still on the couch, gripping the cushion. You sigh into the kiss, your own hand moving from his cheek to tangle lightly in the ends of his mask tails, encouraging him.

He deepens the kiss slightly, a spark of newfound confidence igniting. It’s sweet, and a little clumsy, and utterly, breathtakingly perfect.

And for once, Donatello Hamato doesn’t need data, or algorithms, or any empirical evidence to know that this feeling—this connection—is his best, most wonderful result yet.

[bluebunf]

College Au maybe?

All turtles are in the same Uni/college as MC~ (details tba)

Donathan: "Ofcourse you wouldn't know the damn answer, you haven't looked at your notes since your midterm! You really are an idiot!

What? Did your dum-dum brain think coming to me last minute to cover your whole semester in one day will help you? SCOFF I may be a genius but I'm not a miracle worker!"

Leon comes in 5 hours later to check up on you since he's been hearing yelling ever since you came down and stayed in Donnie's lab. PTSD apparent.

"Yeah, ever since school, partoling and training, he's been absolutely ruthless," he huffs.

"Hey, at least he agreed to help you! When I asked him for homework help, all he did was look at my paper, laughed at my face and threw it in the garbage, and left..."

Also donnie may or may not have taken up smoking, idk yet

[cutielights]

Hi!! I don't know what I'm doing so I apologize if I'm doing this wrong, please bare with me haha. Can I ask for something with the Rise guys and a hypervigilant/otherwise anxious S/O? Even if not your stuff is super sweet and good comfort material, have a nice day ^^

hey lovely! <3 you’re not doing this wrong at all! This sounds super sweet :D <3

Merging req’s bc they have the same vibe

also you requested this over a year ago anons TvT I AM SO SORRY!!! <3333

Reader is G/N as always! Unspecified if you are human or a yo’kai

Rise Boys X Hyper-Anxious S/O

Content: reader has an anxiety (?) attack. comfort.

LEO

Leo knows how it feels, his insomnia worsening after the Kraang, anxiety through the roof. So of course he knows how to comfort you!

Tea time’s with him become more frequent after the Kraang, an attempt to bring some calmness back into both of your lives.

The hidden city skate park is usually a loud, busy, fun place. But on some days it becomes overwhelming, anxiety inducing, the people about making you bristle at the very touch of brushing arms.

He’ll catch up to you, hand landing on a stiff shoulder. His face falters at your tense expression.

“Hey babe?”

“Yeah?”

“You want me to portal us out?”

“Yeah.”

You don’t land in the Lair, you land on a rooftop, on the outskirts of the Hidden City. The view is nice, and you rest your head on his shoulder to admire it. Touch within your control. Leo wraps an arm around you, sneakily watching your face out the corner of his eye.

RAPH

He’s always vigilant and looking out for his brothers. So with you? Of course he’ll understand, take up the mantle of your protector. It’s no trouble for big red.

Snuggles are a must. Lying on his plastron. Gentle touches on your back. Soft circles rubbed into the base of your spine. Lazy shapes traced onto your arm by the edge of his claws, being ever so careful not to hurt or startle you in the process.

“You feelin’ okay?”

“Mhm…”

“Too much today?”

“Mhm.”

“Wanna stay with Raph a little longer?”

The stuffies surrounding you guys have comfy faces, the kind of cute faces that disintegrate all your anxieties. You stare at them for a while longer, relaxing into your boyfriend’s hold.

You feel a kiss pressed to your forehead, butterflies flitting around your stomach in response. Smiling, you lean up to kiss his cheek, getting the same smile in return.

DONNIE

The Lab is quiet, soft ambiance usually enough to soothe your mind.

But on the days where it’s not? The days where it feels as if everyone is out to get you? Donatello will just scoop you up, moving you to sit on his lap as he works.

“Sorry, I, I know I should have asked.”

“No, it’s fine… you feel safe.”

“…You feel safe too.”

“Hug?”

“Hug.”

The soft clicking of keys on his keyboard as he’s typing, the slight movement of one hand up and down your back. It feels nice. It feels like a warm blanket, your safety net to fall back on.

The different plants in the corner of the lab mellow out the smell of old coffee. A recognisable smell, one you’ve grown accustomed to. It’s so familiar that just the scent alone relaxes your body now.

Quiet beeps and chirps come through the lab, melting into white noise. You can see blue light reflecting in his glasses from the corner of your eye.

Peace at last.

MIKEY

He’s so quiet and gentle with you when you need it, perhaps after an anxiety attack he wasn’t there for, or when he can sense one coming on. If he finds you curled up in a dark corner, away from the people and the noise, his eyes will soften, carefully moving closer to sit next to you.

“Are you okay….?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you been crying?”

“No.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“…”

“…”

“Do you want a hug?”

“Yeah.”

A warm, comforting, soft hug. It feels like returning home after a hard day, you really should ask for more of these. Kisses lightly peppered all over your face just to elicit a giggle out of you.

You guys can stay together away from the people all day if you want.

He has blanket forts set up in his room, an absurd amount of them. You can stay there on bad days when all feels lost, watching him draw in his sketchbook. The soothing sound of pencil over paper and indecipherable murmuring enough to send you to sleep.

ockeroid ref ockeroid ref ockeroid ref ockeroid ref ockeroid ref ockeroid ref ockeroid ref ockeroid ref

[yanteetle]

How about some angry raph?

"Who's there! Hands in the air, or we'll shoot!"

Have some angry future Raph. Sorry for literally not posting for 2 years (or more)! He's not very happy about the little interruption, and the mess that'll have to come out of it.

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