#I went through old x readers that I'd done previously and was sad that I didn't stick to a gender neutral storytelling

[donatello-writes]

TMNT x Reader - The Best Part of Waking up...

...Is food shenanigans with your turtle bae!

I wanted to put together small scenes of what it would be like waking up to your favorite turtle after spending the night with them. Enjoy! 

Leo 

Shouts of profanity followed by clanging woke you from your slumber. Rolling over in the bed you grumbled to your partner only to find him absent. Getting out of bed and to your feet, you headed out into the main room. Suspecting the vulgar language was coming from the hot-headed terrapin who also inhabited the lair, you were shocked to find Leo instead. 

Peering at a bow on the counter, you saw charred remains of what was once granola already swimming in milk. The burst of laughter that came after was impossible to hold in. "Babe, how in the world did you manage to burn CEREAL?"

Shooting you a mock glare over his shoulder he answered, "The recipe said to lightly toast it."

"Okay, a few things...One...This isn't even close to lightly toasted..." grabbing the empty granola bag from the top of the garbage, you stifled further giggling as you continued with your thought,"And two...You don't have to do that if it's already pre-made!"

When he returned with a mere shrug, you rolled up your sleeves and insisted, "That's it, I'll take it from here." Proceeding to pick up the food making where your boyfriend had left off.

"No, I was supposed to do this for you!" He grumbled, trying to take the bowl back.

Running your fingers along his jaw you implored, "Fearless, will you just let me be the leader for once?" 

His electric blue eyes remained stern only for a few seconds before melting under your returned gaze. Taking your hand, he gave your palm a soft kiss and nodded. 

"Just this once."

Raph

Raphael shushed his little brother to stay quiet so as not to wake you as the two of them slowly destroyed the kitchen in their attempts to make food. Hearing the sound of you stirring in the distance, he quickly shoved Mikey out of sight. Not but a moment later, you emerged from the burly terrapin's room wearing one of his enormous red t-shirts. 

Rubbing your eyes sleepily, you murmured, "What's with all the ruckus, big red?"

He couldn't prevent the broad smile that crossed his lips. To see you in HIS shirt, hair still a mess, at this hour of the morning...He was in pure bliss. 

Snapping out of his fawning he replied, "Uuuh--er, I was jus' makin' ya some breakfast!" nervousness was apparent in his voice, and despite your grogginess, you didn't buy it. 

Giggling, you gawked and asked with sarcasm and surprise, "Whaaat? YOU...cooking?"

"Yeah, an' why's that so hard ta believe?" He retorted, brow furrowed, and arms crossed. 

"Raph, I've known you for a while now. You never cook...ever."

Striving to appear intimidating, he wrinkled his nose and curled his lip, but you were unfazed. All you did was smirk in response, foot tapping expectantly. After your silence became too much, the mountain of a turtle finally crumbled. He couldn't keep anything from you. 

"Okay, maybe Mikey helped a little..." when you placed both hands on your hips and raised an eyebrow, he finally caved. "Awright, awright! He did everything! However, I did squeeze the orange juice by hand."

Picking the glass up from the table, you took a sip. "Raphie, that's the best orange juice I've ever had."

With that, he pulled you into a bear hug, taking great care as to not squeeze too hard.

“You’re amazin’.”

Mikey

You woke the the scent of vanilla and buttery decadence. Flipping over in the bed was near impossible, and when you opened your eyes, you came to find the reason why. A full course meal was spread out across your bed sheets.

This particular assemblance of food was enough sugary sweet indulgence to make a glutton cry. French toast, drenched in maple syrup and topped with whipped cream and a strawberry, apple crumble over ice cream, cherry turnovers, cinnamon streusel coffee cake, blueberry muffins, homemade pastries. At the edge of your bed, Mikey sat with his legs criss-crossed, biting his lip and eagerly awaiting your reaction. 

Mouth agape, you gasped, "Sweetie, this is amazing."

That was all the affirmation he needed to fly from the bed and break into a victory dance. Eventually, he shimmied his way to your side. 

Wiping one of the many food smudges from his face, you gave it a taste... "Frosting?"

With a jovial guffaw he answered, "Yeah, it was for the pastries. I had to chase Donnie outta the kitchen a few times 'cause he kept eating it..." He then touched a hand to the spot where you'd wiped the food away and blushed. 

The food warmed you under the sheets, which begged the question, "When in the heck did you get up in order to make all of this?!"

He chuckled and waved off your inquiry, "Not important." 

Although he refused to give it, you knew the real answer: he woke up insanely early. "I'd hug you right now, but I think I'm stuck under this avalanche of food," You joked. "I'm going to need to eat my way out of here!" 

Face lighting up at your words, he clapped his hands excitedly, "Let's do this!"

Donnie

Grousing to yourself, you fiddled with the dials of the stove in the lair in the wee hours of the morning. The obstinate device refused to work with you as you attempted to prepare breakfast for your beau before he awoke. All of the sudden, muscular arms surrounded you from behind, three-pronged hands gently resting on your small ones. 

Lips brushed your ear to whisper, "Here, like this, love." He then turned the knob using your hand holding it for a few seconds. Several clicks sputtered from the appliance, and suddenly, a small flame burst to life from beneath the wired burner.

Whipping around, you met the gaze of your boyfriend. Hazel eyes burning like the brilliant aftermath of a supernova, and trained intently on you. "I'm so used to using an electric oven..." You told him, blushing at your admission.

Giving you a knowing smile, he bestowed a kiss on the top of your head and mumbled, "I know." His words difficult to hear with his face buried in your hair. "Mmm, you always smell so good." He mused. 

Tittering at his compliment, you replied, "What are you talking about? I haven't even taken a shower yet, you weirdo!" 

"My statement still stands." He asserted while nuzzling you softly.

Reluctantly, he released you from the loving embrace. He moved about the kitchen, slowly gathering everything needed to make omelettes. Cracking several eggs into a bowl, he vigorously whisked them, and then poured the mixture into the hot pan. In a flurry of chopping, various vegetable were diced and added. Meanwhile, you stood by, in awe.

Noticing your surprise, his smile widened. "Are you really that surprised? Food is a science, after all." following his factoid with a chuckle. 

"So, Mr. Ramsay. When will this fabulous meal be ready?" 

In the food celebrity's accent he proceeded to execute a flawless impression, "All in due time, good food cannot be rushed!" He exclaimed jokingly, backing you into the counter. Bodies pressed against one another, your lips touched with a kind of heat that would make the oven jealous. If you could begin every morning this way, life would be perfect.