#oh YEAH this /is/ like Dr. Delicate Touch

[soundwavemain]

I can’t remember who mentioned it, but to the person who said that what Casey Jones Jr. learned from Master Michelangelo was “Dr. Delicate Touch”: thank you.

[sinkovia]

Coffee Shop: IV

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

You work at a small cafe that Simon starts visiting when he’s not deployed.

Coffee Shop Masterlist

As Simon made his way to the coffee shop, a realization struck him, he hadn't properly thanked you for the bookmarks you made him yesterday. The thought lingered in his mind as he pushed open the door, greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly baked goods and the sight of you waiting behind the counter.

A small smile tugged at his lips as you acknowledged his presence. “How was your walk here?” you asked, gently sliding the cup of tea over, careful not to spill any.

“Bloody cold,” 

“Yeah, it’s been getting a lot colder these past few days,” you noted, as he reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out the money and handing it to you. 

"What’s your favorite type of tea?" you thought to yourself for a moment as you place the money in the register.

"Probably chai tea" Nodding appreciatively, Simon grabbed the large mug off the counter. 

“Thanks for the cup, love” Simon offered a small smile as he walked to his table, settling down with the familiar book he had been engrossed in for the past few days.

Throughout his reading, Simon periodically checked the time on his watch, ensuring he caught you a few minutes before your break. Every few pages, his gaze would shift from his wrist to you and back to his book.

As the watch read ten minutes till your break, Simon got up, placed his book on the table, and walked up to you. “Could I get a cup of chai, love?”

“Of course,” you replied with a wide smile. The surprise in your eyes was evident as he ordered something other than his usual, and opting for something you liked, it added an extra layer of warmth to the usual routine.

A few minutes later you approached Simon's table with a calm grace, the mug held delicately in your hands. With a gentle touch, you placed it down in front of him, the rich aroma of chai swirling between you. You met his gaze with a genuine warmth in your eyes.

“It’s yours, love. My treat since I wasn't able to thank you properly for the bookmarks,” his words carried a sincerity that added a layer of sweetness to the moment.

A surprised and appreciative smile spread across your face. “Oh my god, this is so sweet, Simon. Thank you so much.”

Simon felt that familiar sensation, the same feeling he experienced yesterday when he first laid eyes on the drawing you made, capturing his essence with such care and detail.

That indescribable feeling swirled deep within his chest, it was a sensation that transcended mere physical warmth; it made his heart feel lighter. The genuine appreciation in your eyes, and the soft inviting atmosphere you always seemed to carry, it all contributed to this sensation within him.

The warmth became even more pronounced when you spoke his name, the syllables carrying a sense of familiarity. It was as if the universe had conspired to create these small but significant moments that left an indelible mark on his heart. Simon found himself reveling in the genuine and unexpected warmth that had become a defining element of his encounters with you.

"Nothing compared to the bookmarks you made me. You can sit if you’d like,” Simon motioned with his hand, his eyes warm with gratitude. You responded with a smile, beginning to untie your apron.

As you untied the apron strings, Simon couldn't help but admire the way you moved, the fluid grace in your motions. The comforting aroma of chai lingered in the air as you spoke, “Let me grab my book from the back really quick,” 

With that, you walked towards the back of the coffee shop. A minute later, you reappeared, holding a book in your hands. The way you speed walked back to the table with a certain lightness in your step made Simon smile. Taking a seat across from him, you softly scooted yourself in. Sipping your tea, you then opened your book, engrossing yourself in the pages.

Simon found himself struggling to focus on his own book. His eyes were inexplicably drawn to the bookmark—the drawing of himself facing up. It held an unexpected charm, and his gaze lingered on it longer than intended. He tried to shift his focus, glancing at you instead, but that only led to another distraction. He found himself watching you, the way you read with evident enjoyment.

In an attempt to divert his attention, Simon shifted his gaze to the title of your book. It became apparent that you were on the last pages, and he couldn't help but wonder about the story that had captured your interest. 

"What’s the book about?" 

“It’s about zombies, and this man, Joel, is trying to get this girl to this organization since she’s immune to the virus. Apparently Ellie—well, I probably shouldn't say anymore before I spoil another book for you. It’s really good. I could lend it to you if you’d like?”

“You wouldn't mind?” 

Simon, despite not having any prior interest in zombie stories, inexplicably found himself agreeing to borrow the book.

“Of course not, I only have a few pages left. I could give it to you once my break is over,” you offered with a warm smile, and Simon found himself nodding in agreement, glancing over to his watch wondering how much time he had left with you.

“Sounds good.”

Returning to your book, an audible gasp escaped you as you read the last pages. Simon's eyes lingered on the cute expressions you made, wondering what had captured your attention. His gaze shifted to the bookmark, and he furrowed his brows, wondering why you drew him in a way he had never seen himself. Deciding to wait until you were done reading, Simon postponed the question.

As you flipped the last page and closed the book, you looked up at Simon, who was already looking at you. You smiled, and he quickly slid over the bookmark, hoping you didn't think he had been staring for too long.

“You really see me this way?” he asked, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket.

Your brows furrowed as you looked down at the bookmark, then back up at him. “What do you mean?”

“The drawing looks really warm. You think I’m warm?” You picked up the bookmark, your eyes bouncing over it.

A smile touched your lips, "That's how I see you," you admitted. "A man who comes in every day, orders a cup of black tea, and sits with a book. Initially, I didn't think you'd give off that vibe, but you seem really warm—like a person someone could rely on for anything. Someone that's warm and safe, the kind of person you call after having a bad dream or when you're scared of thunder."

Simon laughed, seemingly flattered with a genuine warmth in his eyes "I didn't think I gave off that vibe."

Of course not, how could he ever think that about himself? He killed people for a living, but he didnt need to think about that right now. Right now he would let himself get lost in the world where he seemed like the type of guy you called to feel safe.

Shaking your head, you reassured him, your gaze holding his "But you do. If someone were to ask me, 'Hey, Y/n, who do you think gives really good hugs?' I would say the man that comes into the coffee shop every day and reads. You're like a big bear, you know? Not that you're big, hairy, or fat or anything, just warm."

His smile grew wider. "No, it's not weird. I like it. Being a bear sounds nice. I’m sure they’ve lived better lives than me."

“Nonsense, bears haven't been blessed with my cup of tea.”

Laughter bubbled up in you, weaving seamlessly into the cozy ambiance of the coffee shop. The warmth in the air seemed to intensify, not just from the comforting scent of coffee beans but also from the genuine connection that had flourished between you. 

In a moment of surprising boldness, he looked back at you, his eyes holding a certain vulnerability. "Would you call me if you had a bad dream?" he asked, the question hanging in the air, laden with a mix of curiosity and genuine interest.

The question caught you off guard, a hint of surprise playing on your features. You regarded him for a moment, appreciating the sincerity in his eyes. The warmth between you two seemed to grow.

A smile curved on your lips as you nodded, feeling a sense of comfort in the honesty of the exchange. "Yeah, I think I would." 

As Simon looked into your eyes, a mixture of surprise and gratitude reflected in his gaze. He couldn't help but wonder if you experienced bad dreams as frequently as he did. However, a realization hit him – you wouldn't be able to call him even if you wanted to. After all, you didn't have his number. 

Lost in thought, Simon grappled with the idea of asking for your number, contemplating whether keeping you at arm's length was the more sensible choice. Of course he only wanted it to talk about books, not that he actually wanted you to have his number in case you needed someone to call after a bad dream. He was at war with himself, denying that the warmth in his chest was anything more than the result of the warm tea he was drinking.

While Simon grappled with his thoughts, you gathered the courage to ask for his number, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The perfect moment hung in the air, a now-or-never opportunity. The words were on the tip of your tongue—“Do you think…”—but his phone interrupted the moment, displaying 'Captain' on the screen.

“Sorry, love, gotta take this,” Simon sighed apologetically, and you nodded, a smile playing on your lips. He excused himself, stepping outside to take the call from Price. As the door closed behind him, you dropped your head into the palms of your hands, realizing that the perfect chance to ask him had quite literally slipped through your fingers.

Simon returned and stood next to you, "Gotta head out early, love," noticing the disappointment etched on your face. You nodded, attempting to conceal your feelings beneath a veil of composure as you handed him your book.

“Let me know what you think about the opening.”

“I will,” he assured, taking the book from you and tucking it under his arm.

“Walk safe,” you added, standing up and heading back to the counter with the cup of tea Simon had bought you. While you tried to remain composed, Simon sensed the disappointment lingering in the air. As he stood in place, Simon contemplated the call with Price—he was deploying tomorrow morning and would be gone for a month.

He turned and looked at you, taking small sips of your tea while you wiped the counter. The question lingered in his mind—should he tell you about his deployment? Would you even care? Doubtful, he thought; you probably couldn't care less.

Walking towards the door, he half-turned back, “Have a good day, love.” You looked up and smiled, “Thanks, Simon. You too.”

That same feeling, the warmth in his chest, lingered as his eyes focused on your smile. He forced himself to turn away, walking out into the cold that felt like a slap to the face as the door closed behind him. Despite a part of him wanting to turn back and stay in the warm embrace of the coffee shop, he knew he had to go home and get his things in order for the deployment tomorrow.

Every time I write for this series I think about Simon in the comics and I want to rip my hair out because he deserves to be happy. HE DESERVES TO BE HAPPY.

[gaymaramada]

Rise! Boys with a S/O that has a bad swearing habit:

Leonardo

Lowkey encourages it.

He just thinks it’s really funny how shamelessly you throw the “forbidden words” out there.

Will bust out laughing when you casually tell someone to fuck off.

When you describe it as a bad habit, though, he pulls back a bit.

Offers the idea to replace any swears with random words in Spanish.

(That’s what he does.

He never actually swears in Spanish, though.

It’s pretty funny.)

Will absolutely let you be a bad influence on him, much to the others’ dismay.

“What the fuck was up with that guy at Hueso’s the other night?”

“Yeah, what a shithead.”

“HEY—”

*Dramatic gasp*

“No, no, let him cook—”

Donatello

…. Okay? What of it?

He honestly doesn’t care.

Words are words.

He tends to cycle between his innocent dessert-inspired swears to the most vile combinations of letters to ever grace the planet.

It’s like Russian roulette.

Oh the rants you two will fall into.

Venting to one another brings enough curses to the world that it would have the members of Witch Town shaking.

Overall, he’s pretty indifferent to it, but if it’s bothering you, he’ll do his best to assist.

Though as someone who has his own bad habits, it’s less of him helping you and more of you leaning on each other.

It can become a bit competitive, though.

“Quit biting your nails, you’re gonna fuck them up.”

“Keep yourself from swearing for the next five minutes and I’ll consider it.”

Raphael

Oh the poor sweet thing.

Literally the “no more saying cuss words guys! 😨 it’s inappropriate and violent! 😖” kid.

He loves you, but he’s pretty uncomfortable by how often you swear.

He softened up a bit when you explained it wasn’t entirely voluntary.

He knows what it’s like to lose control sometimes, mild or severe.

He gets you a chewing stim toy to bite down on whenever you feel the urge to swear, as he had a similar method when he was younger and adjusting to his strong jaw.

Will absolutely glare at you if you’re about to curse.

“Oh, fu—”

“🤨”

“uuuuuuuuudgesicles. Fudgesicles.”

“😊”

Overall, he’s very supportive.

Michelangelo

So here’s the thing.

Mikey is no stranger to swearing.

In fact he probably has the foulest mouth in the family with Donnie as a close second.

He gets away with it because:

A. Youngest privilages

B. No one expects it from him

C. Dr. Delicate Touch

He also keeps his swearing to a minimum around his brothers (cough cough Raph cough).

But when you two are together, all Hell breaks loose.

His behavior does switch when he learns that you recognize it as a bad habit, and suddenly you find yourself in a Dr. Feelings seminar.

He helps you find alternative vocal stims to use instead of swearing that still hold enough bite to be satisfactory.

He practices these with you for his own sake as well, so similarly to Donnie, the two of you lean on each other.

If the situation calls for it, however…

“DID YOU STEAL MY FUCKING PINK STAR???”

“Noooo ☺️”

“…..”

“I’m gonna fucking skin you—”

[tangledinink]

Oh my goodness, guess what? Chapter 29 of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is now up! And on a Monday, too. Gosh, just like old times. Yet another family secret is revealed from somewhere no one expected it. Read it on ao3 or below the cut!

[ prev ]

“No, no, keep watching, seriously! They’re about to do something sooo cool!”

“Leo, you say that about every stupid street magic video you make us watch,” Donnie complained, rolling his eyes. “And it’s always something stupid.”

“It’s not stupid! It’s super cool!” Leo protested, huffing loudly and glaring at his brother in offense. “I pretend to think that your dumb science stuff is cool!”

“No, you don’t!”

“Well, I could, if you didn’t say magic was stupid--”

“We can literally do actual magic!” Donnie cried, throwing his hands up. “And you’re still into this fake bullshit?”

“Yes,” Leo confirmed easily, rewinding the video slightly. “And I’m restarting so that you guys can watch properly. So there.”

Donnie groaned.

“Both of you quit fightin’,” Raph said, shifting slightly so he could look over Leo’s shoulder, seeming only mildly interested at best-- but still interested! Suck it, Donnie. Raph knew something badass when he saw it. Leo grinned, shifting slightly so he could let his brother see better.

“This is a ridiculous waste of time,” Donnie muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re gonna miss the subway home.”

“We’ll get the next one,” Leo assured, waving him off. “It’s fine, Dee. There’s another train, like, every five minutes.”

“What New York City do you live in?” Raph muttered, glancing down at him and raising a brow.

“More or less!” Leo insisted. “I just wanna finish the video, and then we’ll go! We can’t go without Mikey, anyway.”

“What do you mean without--?” Raph’s head bobbed to the left. It bobbed to the right. He did a full 360 spin. “Wha-- Where the hell did he go!? He was here a minute ago!”

“He forgot his gym bag back in the locker room,” Leo said, waving a hand dismissively. “So he ran back to get it.”

“When!?”

“When you and Donnie were arguing about the best Jupiter Jim sequel, like, five minutes ago,” Leo explained breezily, leaning into his brother’s chest as he spoke, passing his weight over for Raph to hold up for the moment. Maybe physically pinning him in place would keep his head from vibrating off his shoulders. It usually helped. “Chill. He’ll be back in a second and then we’ll get out of here. Watch the video.”

“Leo!” Raph protested. “We’re supposed to stay together! Remember!?”

“He’s not even leaving the building, Raph. There’s still a couple kids around! And he’s literally down the hall,” Leo scoffed, rolling his eyes. “He’s not five., I’m pretty sure he can handle it without us escorting him.”

“Leo--”

“If you want us to chaperone him down the hall to fetch his bag,” Donnie said, not looking up from his phone. “Then you will be the one informing him of such, dearest Raphala, because I have no intention of being the one to tell him that.”

“It’s like you like Dr. Delicate Touch,” Leo sighed, shaking his head. “Do you miss him when he’s away? Is that it? Is that why you’re like this?”

Raph sighed, scrubbing at his face with his hands.

“Fine,” he finally relented. “But if he’s not back in two minutes, Raph is going after him! And you two are comin’ with me!”

Leo smiled a tiny bit.

“Yeah, okay, deal,” he agreed easily, pressing play on the video again. “Now here, watch. This dude is about to for-real make a whole-ass building disappear!!!”

---

Agent 64’s eyes flew open.

Danger.

There was danger.

He could taste it on the back of his sandpaper tongue. Every hair on his body jumped up on end as he flew to his feet, wriggling from April’s relaxed grip, his back arching and his claws extended.

“Ow! Mayhem, chill! Watch the claws!” April hissed, startled as he suddenly woke from his nap, previously curled up and dozing in her lap, wincing at the prickle in her thigh. “What’s your deal--?”

He would maybe regret hurting her if it weren’t for his heart banging wildly in his ears. He could feel it. There was danger. Something bad was going to happen. Someone was in trouble. His tail puffed up like a bottlebrush, he whipped around wildly to face the human-- both his favorite and his charge-- biting out a frantic, chittering warning. And spirits, he had never wished so desperately up until now that humans were able to understand the nuances of his language. Because while her brows crinkled with concern, a thick fog of confusion colored her eyes glassy all the same.

“Mayhem? What’s wrong, little guy?” She pressed, her bottom lip worried between her teeth. “Are you hurt?”

Agent 64’s tail whipped with frustration, a short, stuttering growl escaping him.

There was danger. There was danger. He was sure of it-- and he didn’t have time for this.

---

The cold, dusty tile of the school hallway did a lousy job breaking April’s fall. A short yelp of shock wrenched itself from her throat as she tumbled over herself, the crackle of mystic energy still prickling at the back of her neck, as she found herself quite suddenly sprawled about the floor as opposed to curled on couch in the comfort of her living room.

“OW! Mayhem! What the hell?!” She hissed, narrowing her eyes to scowl at the yellow creature. His only response was a sharp, strangled squeak, tearing himself from her arms and to the floor.

“April?”

April resisted a groan, sitting up just enough so that she turn her head to glance over at Leo and her other two brothers, who were all giving her a rather startled look.

“Hey, guys,” she said, wincing a bit as she got to her feet, brushing herself off.

“Are you okay? What are you doing here?”

“Beat’s me!” She huffed, placing a hand on her hips. “Mayhem just started freaking out all of a sudden! I dunno what’s going on!”

“Do you think something’s wrong?” Raph asked, his brows furrowed with worry as he bent down to look at the little creature, still puffed up and pacing back and forth, chittering frantically at the group. “What’s goin’ on lil’ man?”

“He can’t be acting like this over nothing! There’s gotta be--” April broke off, his lips curving into a frown. Leo and his two brothers? That wasn’t right. “... Hey. Where’s Mikey? Shouldn’t he be with you guys?”

---

They didn’t understand what he was trying to say. The big one reached for him, but Agent 64 dodged out from under his hand, ducking away and breaking into a sprint. He just had to hope they’d be wise enough to follow him-- the only reason he didn’t simply teleport himself away. He couldn’t waste any more precious seconds trying to secure their allyship for the coming fight.

He had to be there. He had to be there now. The air reeked of it.

Danger danger danger danger.

---

His hair beads clicking along to the rhythm, Mikey bobbed his head with the beat banging about in his head, humming softly to himself and tapping his fingers against the side of his thigh. Ugh, this had to be one of Donnie’s EDM songs, didn’t it? He couldn’t remember any of the lyrics or anything-- just the thick, heavy beat. It colored his steps as he wandered down the dimly lit hallway, shouldering open the locker room door and sighing softly to himself. Gosh, he had had this song stuck in his head all day long, but he still couldn’t figure out the name of it or where it was from… It was starting to drive him just a tiny bit insane. Maybe he could get Leo to help him figure it out on the way home-- he was really good at this game.

It was probably one of Donnie’s songs. He had probably picked it up from Donnie. He was sure Donnie would know the answer if he asked-- Donnie always knew the answer to pretty much everything.

But if he asked Donnie, it wouldn’t be a game. Nah. It’d be way more fun to ask Leo. As soon as I get back, he thought to himself, swinging open his locker door.

As predicted, his gym bag was still here, hung up on its hook all neat as if it was meant to be there and hadn’t been left behind. Thank god. If it wasn’t here, then it’d for real be lost and it’d be a whole thing. That’s how you know the Adderall is wearing off, he thought dimly to himself.

His backpack retrieved, he slung the bag over his shoulder, kicking the locker shut and turning to start the trek back to his brothers. His legs weren’t especially long, but he still made every effort to stretch them out with each step, picking up a jaunty pace so as not to keep the rest of them waiting.

The song still played in his head, and Mikey mumbled along to the wordless melody under his breath, fidgeting with the straps of his bag. The longer he thought about it, the more sure he was that it was something from one of Dee’s playlists. It had to be, right?... This was exactly the type of thing he always listened to… Sharp and stormy and loud. Thudding and all-encompassing. The rhythm wasn’t quite as fast as you might expect from the genre-- it sort of drew itself out.

Made you wait for it.

And then eventually, the pace started to pick up.

Each synthesized thump came quicker.

And louder.

Closer together.

Building up, bigger and bigger.

Tickling the back of your neck.

Breathing down your spine.

Thundering onward.

The anticipation would almost swallow you whole.

Until finally the beat dropped.

---

A tiny smile turned the corners of Draxum’s lips crooked.

It was almost amusing-- how careless they were. He wondered how safe they must think themselves to traipse the city openly like this. As if he wouldn’t be perfectly capable of hunting them down. As if he wasn’t patient enough to wait until one of them was alone.

All he would need was a simple capture charm.

From up above in the rafters, he watched the smallest of his experiments. He was still cloaked in their silly human form. Relaxed. Oblivious.

Perfectly easy prey.

After this, he could simply pick the rest of them off.

The second his target walked within range of him, he lashed an arm forward. Magenta light leapt outward from his palm and pounced.

---

He didn’t see the figure in the rafters.

He didn’t hear the pound of footsteps in the distance.

He didn’t even see the flash of light.

But he felt the whisper of magick.

---

Raph didn’t know why Mayhem was freaking out, but he didn’t have to. Because all of a sudden, every single one of his big brother senses and alarms were flipping out. And he felt this awful, gnawing weight of dread in his stomach.

He didn’t bother to wait and check with the rest of his family, to see if they felt the same thing or if they intended to follow. Once Mayhem took off running and that dread took hold-- he did, too.

He could hear other footsteps behind him. Usually, Leo and Donnie were both capable of moving significantly faster than him. But not right now. Raph wasn’t sure if it was the fact that he had a head start or just that he knew Mikey was in trouble. But his throat was tight with the very beginnings of panic. All his muscles were lit up with searing red heat. He was moving as fast as he possibly could. Maybe faster than that, even. And no one was overtaking him.

He needed to know where Mikey was right now.

Despite the dead-sprint, it felt like it took ages for him to reach the locker room. He didn’t even stop to open the door so much as he slammed into it, shifting his body just enough to let his shoulder take the impact, the barrier crashing out of the way, crumpling beneath him, just the way he knew it would--

“Mikey!”

His eyes caught sight of Baron Draxum’s crouched form right away-- curled up in the rafters like a fucking jaguar in the canopy. This dark, sickly pink coil of mystic energy reaching from his extended hand and reaching out towards his little brother’s back like a bullet.

Raph’s heart stopped in his chest.

For just a second, the rest of the world froze, too.

The rest of the world… except for Mikey.

His back was still to Draxum.

But his heels were already in a pivot.

His head hadn’t even turned fully yet. But already, his hand flew up behind him, palm stretched out wide and elbows locked. The very beginnings of a fiery golden light sparked to life around him like a halo. His entire body jerked hard and braced--

And he caught Draxum’s magic in his palm.

Without even looking, he stopped the spell dead in its tracks with one raised hand, curling his fingers around it with this sharp, awful hissing sound, sizzling and popping like a forest fire. Like something burning.

He tightened his grip and the magick shattered like glass beneath his fingers.

And then Michelangelo turned around to face Draxum fully, his head tilted back so that he could meet his eyes.

---

“Mikey! Come look!”

Mikey’s head bobbed at his big brother’s frantic cry, immediately heading over in his direction.

“What is it?”

“A baby bird!” Raph exclaimed, kneeling down, and sure enough, when Mikey leaned over he saw the little creature-- tucked up behind a dumper in their alley, their feathers all poofed up and fluffy.

“Whoa!” Mikey gasped, crouching down as well so he could get a better look. The little bird seemed to shiver, but didn’t try to get away-- just stared at them with its big black eyes. It was kind of scraggly and funny looking, with this big round yellow beak and fuzzy feathers. “He looks so funny…”

“We gotta help him!” Raph whimpered, his bottom lip trembling. “He’s all by himself! He musta fallen or gotten lost or somethin’!”

Mikey paused, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“You think?...”

“Well, a cat might get ‘im or somethin’!” Raph cried. “I’ll go get a shoebox, and we can bring him inside! You watch him, okay?”

And Mikey considered this for a moment, glancing from his big brother to the baby bird, his nose wrinkled up slightly.

… If he fell out of his nest, then why didn’t he feel afraid?

Mikey couldn’t quite place it, but it just… didn’t seem like the bird was that upset or scared. If Mikey fell out of his nest and couldn’t fly anywhere and was lost and all alone, he was pretty sure he’d get scared and upset, at least, eventually. But this little guy didn’t feel that way at all. Mikey could just tell.

Maybe a little… frustrated. But determined. Excited, almost.

Mikey could feel it.

“No,” he finally said. “I think he’s okay.”

Raph frowned a bit, looking down at his brother incredulously. “But he’s just a baby!”

“Yeah, but he’s not scared!” Mikey argued, pointing.

Raph tilted his head to the side.

“How do you know?” He argued.

Mikey wrinkled his nose, considering this for a second before he shrugged.

“I ‘unno!” He finally declared. “I just do! You don’t?”

“... No,” Raph said, perhaps pouting a bit. “He’s a bird.”

“Well,” Mikey argued, crossing his arms over his chest. “I think he’s okay! I don’t think we should take him inside. I don’t think he’d like it. I think maybe we’d be, like… stealing him.”

“We can’t just leave him!” Raph protested, and Mikey paused, considering this, his lips curved into a pout.

“... Can we watch him for a little bit first, and see what happens?” He suggested after some thinking. “So then we know no cats will get ‘im or anything.”

Raph sighed. “... Yeah. Okay,” he finally agreed. “But if he’s still there in thirty minutes, then we should bring him inside. Okay?”

“Okay,” Mikey agreed.

---

They were golden-- so very much so that they were nearly white, as if superheated by the sun itself. They were built from nothing, it seemed, save for light and energy itself, but playing a melody of clinks and clatters regardless, filling the air with the sound of metal-on-metal.

The chains that materialized from his baby brother’s body.

They moved almost too fast to see, curling like snakes, twisting and shifting at Mikey’s command. With a forward thrust of his arm, leg sweeping around and his hands clenched into a fist, they obeyed him instantly, echoing his movements and flashing forward-- screaming-- howling towards their target.

Draxum just barely had the time to leap out of the way, flinging himself to the side and correcting his trajectory as he fell, frantically dodging the onslaught, and Mikey chased him. The chains twisted midair to follow the yokai, forcing him to dance and dodge backwards, hardly able to even conjure the occasional counterspell or strike in between running.

Running from Mikey.

It was all happening too fast for Raph to follow properly, but he realized, distantly, that Mikey’s eyes were glowing, light pouring from them and streaking down his face in globs of color. Like he was crying. Like he has tears made of honey.

Draxum lashed out with another spell, trying to find ground, and Mikey’s chains screamed out to meet them, shattering it midair. For just a second, Draxum gaped, his eyes wide as he watched. And in that tiny moment of hesitation, Mikey pounced.

He leapt forward like a beast on prey, his palm outstretched, reaching for Draxum, to touch, to grab--

At the very last second, the yokai yanked himself back.

In an instant, a bubbling black light enveloped him like a shadow and he blinked away-- as though he had never been there in the first place. Mikey stumbled slightly, lurching in the empty space left behind, his body jerking slightly at the sudden halt.

He faltered, wavering for a second, rocking on his feet. He blinked slowly, staring at the space where his opponent had once been as his shoulders slumped. In the silence and the still, ragged pants clattered through his chest. Raph swore he could hear them echo.

He blinked, swallowed, and finally found his tongue again.

“... Mikey?”

---

Raph gasped softly as he watched the little bird they had been watching leap up with a flap and flutter of its wings.

“It’s trying to--”

And it took him a few tries. But after a few false starts, the tiny creature took to the air. And in nearly a moment, it was gone, swooping away from the alley and out of sight.

“Whoa!” Raph gasped, his eyes widening. “Did you see that? That was so cool! He could fly all along!”

Mikey glanced back at his older brother and grinned brightly. “Yeah!!!”

He could tell. He could tell that that bird had been so happy to make it into the air and start to fly.

He could tell Raph was happy, too.

---

The halo that was surrounding their baby brother faded. The tears fizzled and dried up, the glow leaking from his eyes faded away with a flicker. And for a second, Mikey stood in one spot, staring off at nothing, his face flushed and his shoulders heaving with deep, shuddering breaths.

After a second, he coughed-- once, and then twice, hunching over slightly at the force of it. And he spat something shimmering and gold out onto the floor.

And then Raphael watched in horror as his eyes rolled back into his head, his knees going out from beneath him.

[bippot]

Summary: Obligatory Professor Reid fic but without the weird age gap. When an artist takes one of Spencer's courses for research for her comic book, he's astounded by his lack of self restraint.

Tags: Professor Spencer Reid, Teacher-Student, Relationship, Smut, Fluff, Secret Relationship, Mutual Pining

Criminal Minds, Dr Spencer Reid Masterlist - here

Apparently, the librarian look was all the rage these days. At least, that's what Reid deduced when the most stunning woman he had ever laid eyes on strolled into his lecture hall, looking like she had just stepped out of one of those hilariously cheesy 'sexy nerd librarian' pornos he had stumbled upon during one particularly lonely night on a case.

She was a vision in her sweater vest - an argyle one that happened to be a dead ringer for the one he was currently sporting. The hem of her shirt peeked out from underneath, adding a touch of casualness to the otherwise preppy ensemble. Her blouse, a delicate shade of lilac with dainty white flowers adorning the cuffs, flowed effortlessly over the waistband of her jeans. It was a perfect blend of polished and carefree, and to Reid, who had never considered himself to be a fashion-forward individual, she exuded cool.

But it was her smile that truly captured his heart - wide, radiant, and undeniably goofy. And the best part? It was directed right at him. Reid couldn't believe his luck. He quickly scanned behind him, half-expecting to find someone else who might be the recipient of that captivating smile, only to find empty space. Odd, considering he was quite certain there was no one else in the room. He would have noticed. His brain struggled to comprehend that such a smile could be directed at him, of all people.

In an instant, Reid was on his feet, his body reacting before his mind could fully process what was happening. He took a step forward, greeting her at the door frame. It was a good thing she was the first to arrive; otherwise, his hasty reaction might have seemed rather incriminating. He had never been particularly subtle when interacting with someone he found attractive, so this was just another addition to his ever-growing collection of awkward encounters.

But, man oh man, he wasn't the only one feeling the heat in that moment; she was just as flustered as he was. He couldn't help but notice her fidgeting, those nervous twitches that gave away her own jumbled emotions. And in that split second, he found himself wanting to reach out to brush away a few stray strands of hair that had fallen over her face. He didn't. But he so desperately wanted to.

"Hi," he squeaked, cringing at the high-pitched sound that escaped his lips. In a desperate attempt to save face, he coughed loudly, hoping to drown out the embarrassing squeak.

Was it just his imagination or did she blush? If so, he had to admit, he kind of liked her face a little rosier.

"Is this Profiling 101?" she asked, a glimmer in her eyes that instantly put him at ease. Her easygoing expression made him feel less ridiculous for losing control over his own reactions.

"I was gonna call it 'Noticing the Minutiae of Deviant Behaviour for the Development of a Baseline Hypothesis'," Reid responded automatically, his words tumbling out in his characteristic rambling style. He realised that he had answered her question, but perhaps not directly enough for her to pick up on it, so he quickly added, "Yes, this is. This is Profiling 101. Yeah, uh, welcome... You're the first one here."

Sweater Vest's eyes widened as she took in Reid's appearance, giving him a casual once-over. "Oh! You're Doctor Reid?" she exclaimed, surprise evident in her voice. He nodded in confirmation, feeling a twinge of self-consciousness at her reaction. "I was expecting some wizard-looking man with a big bushy beard for some reason. And you're not like that... at all. I should've done more research."

Reid couldn't suppress a chuckle, a delightful blend of amusement and embarrassment sweeping over him. It wasn't uncommon for people to underestimate him and mistake him for someone older - that had been the story of his professional life. But, in this moment, he found himself not minding one bit as she saw him as an equal, not a mentor.

"I was actually considering growing a beard," he playfully pondered aloud, his hand instinctively reaching up to stroke his chin as if taming a wild thicket of facial hair. Her quiet laughter filled the air, a deep and melodious sound that was like sweet music to his ears.

Surprisingly enough, he felt a tiny flicker of his awkwardness fade away as he conversed with her. It wasn't a complete transformation, mind you, just a small chip off the iceberg. Perhaps it was all in his head, a figment of his imagination. After all, it would be pretty bizarre to feel more at ease with a stranger he'd just met than with the people he'd known for years and considered close friends.

"I think you'd pull it off."

As the words left her lips, a cascade of students flooded into the room, effectively putting an end to their conversation. Reid's heart skipped a beat at the unexpected compliment, but he quickly regained his composure, not wanting to draw any suspicion from his class. He couldn't afford to let anyone know that he was smiling like a love-struck fool at the mere mention of one of his students.

The sudden influx of people served as a timely reminder that she was, in fact, his student. The boundaries between them were crystal clear, and Reid's thoughts had ventured far beyond what was appropriate for their relationship. He knew he had to rein in his wayward feelings, but it felt like trying to stop a freight train with a pebble. It was an uphill battle, but it was a battle that had to be fought.

So, he made a conscious effort to suppress the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach every time he stole a glance in her direction. He couldn't let his attraction get the better of him.

Instead, Spencer shifted his attention to the eclectic group of people filling the room, hoping to shake off the distraction. Approximately twenty-five students occupied the space, a lively bunch with most of them with very obvious aspirations of becoming top-notch agents. Their wide-eyed enthusiasm and incessant questioning about the practicality of profiling in the real world gave them away as the eager rookies they were. However, amidst the crowd, Spencer noticed a handful of outliers, mysterious individuals whose motives and ambitions were yet to be deciphered.

One of those was the woman in the sweater vest. She was hanging onto his every word as if it were the most captivating story ever told. Her eyes were wide with curiosity, and her pen danced across the page, effortlessly capturing every detail. But what caught his attention, much to his chagrin, was the elegant script adorning the front of her notepad. It read, "Noticing the Minutiae of Deviant Behaviour for the Development of a Baseline Hypothesis." He couldn't help but smile to himself, appreciating it. It was a brief moment of amusement before he cleared his throat and continued with his presentation.

From what he could gather, she was like a breath of fresh air in the classroom filled with wannabe agents. She didn't fit the mould of those typical heroes, strutting around with an obnoxious sense of pride. No, she was different. She had a kindness that radiated from within, the kind that made you believe she would rescue a stranded kitten without a second thought. But she wasn't the type to go charging into danger, kicking down doors with reckless abandon. Oh no, she had a whole other vibe about her.

Seated beside her was one of those wide-eyed spooks, his eyes fixed on her notes so he could copy them. It was crystal clear that she would become the ultimate nerd that everyone would try to copy from as the term went on. Ah, the passing of the torch. Once upon a time, Spencer had held that title, but now, he had ascended to the rank of the master. Thank goodness he no longer had to worry about pleasing his peers by sharing his hard-earned work.

Sweater vest didn't seem to mind one bit, though. In fact, she went above and beyond, tilting her book towards him so that he could read it with ease. Now, that's what you call considerate! And boy, was he starting to notice all the little things about her that he found so endearing. He hadn't even known her for that long, but she was already capturing his admiration. There was just something about her that made him want to learn more, to unravel the mystery of who she truly was.

As the lecture carried on, Reid's enthusiasm for the course seemed to bubble over. He couldn't contain his excitement as he delved into every detail of what the rest of the course had in store. The subjects he planned to cover were as diverse as the colours in a rainbow, as were the case examples he would be using to illustrate each topic. He even made sure to add trigger warnings, because hey, who wants to be startled by a decapitated head or a crushed femur at nine in the morning?

Reid was also on a mission to secure some impressive guest speakers for the course. His top choice? None other than the charismatic Derek Morgan. But as Hank began to grow and talk and do all the exciting milestones that children do, Derek was a busy man who wanted to spend as much of his free time with his son. He wanted to be present for every precious moment and soak up every bit of knowledge and opportunity he could at what being a parent was like. And to give his son the experience of having his good ol' pa around was definitely a priority.

"My old mentor - his name was Gideon, uh, Jason Gideon - he used to offer his students time after class if they wanted to hear about any of his old cases and, yeah, if any of you are interested I can start doing that. Is that -" Going off their faces, he felt the need to cut himself off. "Oh, most of you look interested in that."

Giddily, he stole a quick glance towards Sweater Vest. She caught his eye, offering a nod of encouragement before redirecting her attention to her own notes. Oh, Spencer, you sly dog. The adorable girl (who, yes, happens to be your student and the boundaries must be respected) just practically declared her desire to be in your company more often. Talk about a major breakthrough!

"Yes, okay. I can do that. That's something to consider for next week."

He found himself babbling away, but truth be told, he was mostly entertaining himself at this point. The lesson was drawing to a close, and boy, was Spencer feeling the exhaustion creeping in. He had covered all the essential points, and now he was just left with the remnants of his scattered thoughts. And we all know, when Spencer's mind starts to wander, it becomes a barrage of information.

Some of it was useful. Most of it was not.

As the professor glanced across the room, he couldn't help but notice some of his students' attention beginning to wander. He knew it was time to wrap up the session. With a warm smile, he announced, "Alright, folks, I think we've covered enough for today. Time to call it a day. But fear not, my dear scholars, for we shall reconvene next week, at the exact same time, in this hallowed hall of knowledge."

The words hung in the air, eliciting a chorus of enthusiastic nods and affirmatives from the students. With a small smile and a nod of acknowledgement, they began to gather their notebooks, pens, and bags, their excitement palpable. As the lecture hall slowly emptied, Sweater Vest found herself among the last of the stragglers. Of course, being the diligent student she was, she had chosen a seat all the way at the end of the first row, farthest from the exit. It seemed she was destined to be the last one out.

Before she'd made it through the doorframe, Spencer called out, "I like your outfit, by the way," and tugged at his vest with a hooked thumb when she turned to look at him. A soft chuckle escaped her lips, causing her nose to twitch with amusement. Her face lit up like a thousand fireworks, her smile stretching from ear to ear, as if the whole world suddenly became a stage for her joy.

"I like yours, too, Doctor Reid."

She glanced down at her shoes, her brows furrowing in deep thought. It was as if a little debate was playing out in her head, her expression a mix of uncertainty and determination. But then, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she shook off whatever reservations she had. With a playful wave, she breezed out of the room, leaving him standing there, his eyes fixed on her retreating figure.

"Oh boy, we've got a situation," Reid muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. With a heavy sigh, he plopped down onto his chair, his forehead finding solace on the cool surface of his desk.

And boy, oh boy, did he have a problem. A real whopper of a problem, in fact. Every single lesson, like clockwork, he couldn't help but find himself lingering and pacing near her seat. She was always early, snatching up that prime spot in the front row like it was her own personal throne. Can you believe it? The nerve! But hey, who could blame him? It's like a magnetic force pulling him in, making it impossible for him to resist.

After class, Reid would play tour guide, leading his eager students from the bustling lecture hall to his cosy office. Directly after his class, the lecture hall had been hijacked by an astronomy class for the next time slot, leaving Reid with no choice but to retreat to his own little sanctuary. His office was far from extravagant and was filled with remnants of its previous occupant still lingering. He'd added a few things, which mostly consisted of framed photographs of the BAU hanging prominently on the wall behind his desk.

As for seating, well, Reid had managed to squeeze in a total of six options. There was a comfy little sofa, two chairs on one side of his desk, and a snazzy armchair reserved just for him. Sure, it wasn't the most spacious or luxurious setup, but it was enough to get the job done. After all, it's not the size that matters, but the quality of the discussions and the connections made.

Two weeks passed and it seemed like a magic trick had been performed - poof! The number of students that attended the after class sessions had suddenly been cut in half. It was as if they had all disappeared into thin air. And if that wasn't enough, by the end of the third week, only a grand total of four brave souls dared to venture into his office on a regular basis.

Sweater Vest - or as he'd come to know her as, Y/N - was one of those students. He'd been correct in his first assessment of her: she wasn't a FBI wannabe. She was a comic book artist that had somehow swindled her way into getting the date of her new graphic novel pushed back because she was busy with her research, a.k.a. his course.

Spencer had only found out when he caught her sketching a crime scene photo as he was talking through it. He had waited until they were walking out to the parking lot to get in their respective cars to actually ask her about her talents.

"Yeah, I doodle for a living," she laughed, her words indicative of someone who'd explained their job more than they'd like to and had gotten really tired of the (sometimes belittling) questions people would ask about it. "I've been pushing out comic books one after another after another for I don't know how long, so when I told my publisher I needed some time to do some research for my new story, they decided that I deserved a break. Not that I'll complain about that, it's a nice gesture."

"You're doing an FBI course for 'research'?"

"When you put it like that, it sounds kind of silly. I tend to write a lot of crime stories so why not have them be a tad more realistic? That's what I think anyway."

"No, no, it's not ridiculous at all." Spencer replied sincerely. "It's actually pretty impressive, honestly. That's admirable."

His compliment seemed to fluster her and he was surprised at how quickly it seemed to turn her red. When she opened her mouth to respond, though, it was interrupted by a loud buzzing coming from somewhere in his satchel.

"Sorry, it's probably my work - other work. My boss. Yeah, I should - I mean, I should get this," Spencer said awkwardly as he pulled out his phone to answer the call. He looked to her apologetically before excusing himself to go take care of his business.

Y/N stood there for a moment, wondering whether or not he spoke to everyone with the same amount of enthusiasm. In the few one on one interactions they'd had, he was sweet. Very sweet, really. His smiles were genuine, and yet the awkwardness surrounding him only seemed to amplify whenever she was around. Was that normal? Or was he just shy?

Whatever his reason, Y/N found it hard to keep herself from grinning like a schoolgirl over him. The thought sent her cheeks flushing an ever deeper shade and, as soon as she got into her car, she turned the AC on just to cool them down before driving off. She found herself humming, but who knows why?

Professor Reid thought about cancelling his class since he was on a case. And despite how much he disliked the digital world, Garcia had managed to convince him to try out doing his lesson over the Internet. And, well, if he went through with it, maybe he could see his students' faces (faces plural and not one face in particular - no, no, definitely not) without flying halfway across the country to have to return to do his job.

Just as he'd expected, he wasn't very good at the whole technology thing and had to get Penelope to help him out on a couple of technicalities, but once everything was going, the professor figured he might as well give it a shot.

He was more bumbling than usual. It was the cutest thing Y/N had ever seen. He was like a technophobe grandpa - a super hot grandpa - stumbling over every step he took. To top it off, it didn't help that the professor kept running his hands through his hair, messing it up even more than usual. His clothes were wrinkled and creased and his tie was missing, but, still, he appeared completely and utterly adorable.

In the comfort of the front row of the lecture room, the only people who got to see Y/N's expression were the people to her left and the good doctor himself. Thanks to everyone's cameras being on, anyone on the call could see the literal hearts in her eyes as she watched their lecturer fail to pull up PowerPoint without asking, "Can everyone see this or is it just on my screen?"

Obviously, there were other students that were hot for teacher. How could they not be? Y/N was a little older than the FBI wannabes and she knew what it was like to be young and have a crush every now and again, but whatever she felt towards Reid felt more mature than that. More grown up, almost.

Her smile grew wider and broader at his clumsy attempts as he attempted to carry on with his lesson, his glasses crooked on his nose as he tried to figure out which button to press because he'd accidentally muted himself.

"Press the picture that looks like a pill capsule in a fancy holder," she informed him. Reid blinked at her before his eyebrows shot up, a hint of surprise in his eyes as he clicked on the microphone icon.

"Y/N?" he asked tentatively, trying not to sound too hopeful and failing miserably. She shook her head in amusement, leaning forward on the edge of her chair.

"That's me."

The professor smiled softly, his gaze darting briefly between hers and the screen in front of him. "Wow, uh, thank you for that information. As you all can tell, I'm not quite used to this technology thing...but I'm making a real effort here!"

Throughout his lecture, he tried. He really did try to seem competent on the computer, but when it came right down to the core, he was clueless. The poor guy never really used anything technological - books were his whole thing. But, luckily for him, the audience seemed to find his clumsy attempt amusing rather than insulting. He was just glad he managed to survive until the end of the class.

"Thank you for your attention," Reid stated simply. "I'm sorry that I haven't been able to deliver a more, uh, seamless presentation. And I further apologise that there won't be an after class discussion today, but I guarantee that everything will be back to normal next week."

Before he logged off, Spencer managed to write a little message and he'd worked out how to send it to only one person. It simply said, 'Thanks for the help today, Y/N. I'll see you next week?"

'See you next week, Doc. ;)'

A winky face? How could she be so bold?

The video call ended with Spencer letting a quick breath escape through his lips, feeling a light tingle travel down his spine at the sight of that emoticon. He stared at the empty screen blankly for a moment before closing his laptop, taking off his glasses, and smiling to himself.

"Why does your face look like that?"

Penelope had been sitting at the desk across from him, and, judging by the look of astonishment in her features, she had noticed his blush before he had even realised he was doing it.

"Look like what?"

"Smitten."

"I'm not-"

"You so are. I saw you smiling at your screen. So please, don't play innocent with me." The smirk on her lips was obvious as she leaned forward to loom over him intimidatingly - well, as intimidating as the bright and bubbly Penelope Garcia could be. "So, who is it?"

The genius man groaned loudly, burying his face in both his hands as he mumbled into them, "My student."

"Ew, Reid."

"Exactly!" he exclaimed, looking back up at her and shrugging his shoulders helplessly. "Nothing can happen. That would be a serious breach of the university's rules, and the power dynamic would be a nightmare to deal with."

There was another question on the tip of Pen's tongue. She didn't want to assume anything bad about her friend, but the typical age of people in college implied certain things. They'd heard and witnessed countless stories or age-gap relationships that were less than healthy, so she had to ask, "How old is she?" curiously, her worry barely hidden. Reid gave her a flat stare.

"Late twenties."

"Oh thank God. I thought I was going to have to discourage a middle-aged man from making advances on a barely legal teenager."

"Hey! I find your lack of faith disturbing."

"Sorry," she apologised sheepishly. "You just have to be careful with these kinds of situations, okay? Don't push your luck, Spencer Reid. I mean it."

"Fine." He huffed. "I promise I will behave myself."

Pen rolled her eyes with a chuckle, shaking her head as she got up from her chair. "You better wait it out, big boy. Otherwise, you'll pay the consequences." Then she turned and left, leaving her friend alone at the desk. The genius chuckled to himself as he stared at his hands, his heart still beating rapidly.

'Wait it out' That was the sentiment that swirled around his head constantly, and it had become such a mantra lately. It became his new motto - the hope that pushed him onward every day. Even though he couldn't do anything about it yet, there would be a time when he could.

In his mind, there were three ways it could go.

Option 1 seemed the most unlikely. Eventually, his affection for her would fade away, his feelings would dissipate, and he'd move past his initial attraction to perhaps even become friends with her someday - even though, in his opinion, it would be impossible to forget how pretty she was (mostly because it was impossible for him to forget anything).

2 would be the best-case scenario. He'd wait until the end of her course, then be very suave and have planned an incredibly charming speech that would have her swooning and agreeing to a date with him. The romantic side of him believed that would be the magnum opus of his entire dating life, and that part of him was sure of it.

Or 3 - he'd wait to ask her out, and she'd reject him, and they'd be strangers from that point on, forever, which would suck. In fact, he'd rather not think about it at all - especially since, despite all the possibilities, that was also the one scenario that contained them never interacting again afterwards. Not that he wouldn't still enjoy seeing her in passing every now and then, but he didn't know how much he wanted to risk the possibility of getting his hopes up.

So, he planned to continue on without changing his behaviour all that much, he decided. No matter what happened or how things went, Spencer kept all his interactions with Y/N friendly but not too friendly, helpful but not giving in to his favouritism, and supportive but not overeager or pushy. He figured that it was enough.

It certainly seemed to be.

For a while.

Then, one lecture, she was a little late. That had never happened before. She tried to creep in silently, hoping he hadn't noticed, but of course he noticed. Spencer Reid noticed the second she walked in his peripheral. How could he not? Especially since she was far more dressed up than usual.

As Y/N entered the lecture hall, she couldn't help noticing how many heads were turning towards her direction as everyone stared at her. It was embarrassing, but she did her best to ignore it. Instead, she looked around for a place where she could sit down and pretend she wasn't completely and utterly mortified. Her eyes landed on Spencer's first, and she smiled shyly at him. He waved a little as a greeting, which she responded to with a small wave of her own hand.

Finally finding a seat at the end of a row, Y/N shook the coat from off her shoulders and let Spencer get a good look at her outfit. For whatever reason, she was wearing a tight fitted Morticia Addams-esque gown that accentuated and hugged every curve in a perfect manner. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, with strands falling down either side of her face gracefully. Spencer gulped when his eyes fell upon her cleavage, and he quickly averted his eyes before Y/N or anyone else could notice him staring.

For the next hour and fifty three minutes, he avoided looking in her direction altogether. It wasn't that he wanted to avoid eye contact, no, no...but he knew if he glanced over at her, he wouldn't be able to keep it together for even a minute longer. His cheeks would flush and he'd stop breathing and he had this fear of having a complete cardiac arrest. This had to stop, because he was becoming pathetic - and he hated to admit that.

That problem only increases tenfold during the after class session because there were significantly less students to divert his focus to. Obviously, Tina and Oliver would notice if he completely blocked Y/N out. Well, he hoped they would - he'd been lecturing them about the importance of eye contact and if they missed such a thing, either they didn't listen or he was a shitty teacher.

Fingers crossed they didn't listen.

The three students and their lecturer retreated back to the dingy old office that Spencer called his own, taking up residence on the beat up sofa opposite his table whilst he sat on top of the desk criss-cross applesauce. There was an awkward silence hanging in the air between all three of the students as they waited for Spencer to start talking. He took a deep breath and blurted out, "Y/N, what's with the dress?"

"My friend's a photographer and I was helping him out with a Halloween shoot. I'm lucky I had time to wipe off all that makeup and get my wig off or there would've been a bunch of sleepy college kids wondering why the hell Elvira was walking around campus at nine in the morning," she said nonchalantly. Yet, she was fiddling with one of her earrings, twirling it round and around, like some kind of nervous habit.

Maybe wearing a gothic floor length gown when the people around you tend to wear sweatpants and jeans was causing her more anxiety than she was letting on. Or maybe it was something else - maybe it was because she felt so overwhelmed by the attention he was paying her and it caused this repetitive motor movement.

"Well, you look very nice."

Shit. Too direct. Way too direct.

What the hell had he done? Oh my god. He couldn't believe he said that! What the hell, Spencer? What are you doing?

He cleared his throat nervously, looking away for a moment to hide his embarrassed expression. He felt like a fucking idiot when the words escaped his mouth, but thankfully Y/N didn't say anything other than a soft, "Oh, thank you," and they moved right along like it had never happened. The tension eased considerably once they got into casual conversation about an enucleator that Reid helped catch back in 2009 named Earl Bulford, or as the media called him, 'The Eye Snatcher'. It was an interesting topic, to say the least, and they spent the next twenty minutes discussing and dissecting the nitty gritty details of the case.

Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on your opinion, the moment of peace ended rather abruptly when Tina glanced down at her watch, clutched at Oliver's forearm and interrupted, "We've got to get to our next lecture. Sorry, Doctor Reid."

"Oh, I had no idea I'd been talking for that long." Spencer said with an embarrassed laugh. "Sorry."

Both Tina and Oliver pulled their bags over their shoulders and said their goodbyes to him, before making their way to the door with an eager pace. Spencer watched them leave until the door clicked closed behind them, sighing softly as his fingers drummed against the wooden surface of the desk. Because Y/N hadn't gone with them. She stayed put. She remained seated, her bag still laying beside her foot, and was eying him eagerly.

"Do you mind telling me the rest of the story? My curiosity has been peaked." The girl asked as she leaned forward slightly. "I wanna know the whole thing."

Spencer hesitated, glancing at his door momentarily, before agreeing. In all honesty, he didn't trust himself. They were in a private room in one of the more secluded parts of campus, and she was acting all interested in what he was saying, and was wearing a dress with a cut out in the leg, and those legs were just the sort of temptation that he found himself unable to resist.

Other than that, he had promised to share, hadn't he?

Fiddling with a pen that he'd plucked from a mug on his desk helped keep him somewhat on track as he launched into his story with great enthusiasm. So much. Too much, some would say. Especially since the biro launched itself out of his fingers at one point, flew straight at Y/N's ankle then dropped to the ground with a soft 'thunk'.

"Whoops. Sorry."

And since the distance between the sofa and the desk was more than an arm's length, once Y/N bent down and retrieved it, she got up and moved closer to the doctor, who was frozen in position, watching intently as she examined the clumsy mug he kept all his stationary in. It was a simple white hunk of clay that had wonky words along the side.

"Pretty Boy Swag," she read, barely able to say the words out loud without breaking out in laughter.

"My friend, Derek, his wife got him to go to a pottery class with her and, uh, he made that mug for me."

"Your friend thinks you have Pretty Boy Swag?" she teased, chuckling as she placed the mug carefully back on the desk.

".....Yes?"

Almost to herself, Y/N mumbled, "Yeah, he's got a point, " and that was the breaking point. It was a simple little comment that set Reid on a path he couldn't come back from.

All pretence of professionalism was shattered, leaving behind an adorable, flustered mess in its wake. But, despite his sudden change in hue, something- something bold and daring and uncharacteristically brash - suddenly took control of him and, before he really quite knew what he was doing, he was shooting to his feet and capturing her lips on his own. Her surprised gasp was almost instantly replaced with a hum of contentment and she pressed herself up closer to him, one hand pulling him even closer by the waist and tangling her hands further into his curls.

When they finally broke apart, he felt dazed as he tried desperately to understand what exactly had just transpired.

"I probably should not have done that."

"Probably not, no."

"Right."

"But you did anyway."

"Yup."

"Okay then."

For a second he believed he'd totally fucked it - this interaction, the romance, his god damned job - as she made her way to the door, but she didn't leave him hanging. No. The lock on the door that he'd never really had the need to use before clicked into place, and within seconds, she was standing directly in front of him and draping her arms around his shoulders, coquetting, "We shouldn't do it again, then?"

"Probably not, no."

"Good. Good."

With a slight grin, he pushed a loose strand of hair out of her face, his eyes glinting mischievously as his fingertips trailed lightly down her jaw line and rested gently at her chin, tilting her head ever so slightly and closing the gap between their faces once again. He kissed her - sweetly, tenderly, reverently - as though his life depended on it. As though her lips could heal his soul, mend his heart and take everything away from him - his worries, his anxieties, his loneliness - if she let them linger on hers.

He pulled her close, savouring the warmth radiating from her. It was a strange moment of physical intimacy, yet neither of them backed down - neither of them wanted to back down, and they certainly didn't want the other to back down either. It was intoxicating. It was wonderful. It was all so different to him. hadn't kissed anyone in so long, and he couldn't seem to stop. Couldn't seem to pull away, couldn't seem to make himself stop kissing her. The longer the kiss went on, the more desperate and needy the both of them became, hands roaming everywhere except where it really mattered, where they needed it the most. Where they wanted it the most. Where it burned.

A part of him hoped that she'd push him away and he wouldn't be able to touch her anymore. They'd quit while they're ahead, and then maybe it'd be easier to forget about her. Maybe it'd be easier for him to move on. For her to forget about him. It was better to end things sooner rather than later, right?

But, unfortunately, their emotions seemed to have other plans, and he held on as tight as possible, refusing to budge when small moans began to slip out of her mouth, sounding like begging, pleas that he barely heard above the roaring of blood in his ears.

"I don't want to get you in trouble, are you sure about this?" Y/N breathed out shakily through parted lips, pulling back only enough to speak. Her breath tickled his cheeks, sending a wave of dizziness through his body.

"If you don't want to then-" he started but she cut him off quickly, grabbing his hand and moving it to rest on her breast. "Oh. Yeah. Okay... my hand is, yeah, definitely on.... you." He murmured against her mouth, trying and failing miserably to suppress the goofy grin threatening to split his face.

He couldn't hold back any longer. He'd been bottling it all up inside of him for far too long now, and it was becoming impossible to resist anymore. It was as though the dam had broken, because all of a sudden there was no holding back any longer, and Spencer lost his shit, kissing her, pushing her against the desk and gripping at her hips possessively.

"I thought my head was going to explode when you walked in wearing this." He pinched at the fabric of her dress at her hip. "And each one of those thoughts have been improper," he added, his tone darkening with a hint of playful irritation. “So, so inappropriate."

Y/N didn't know what to say. There was no response left inside of her, because she was completely taken by surprise when he nudged her to sit on his desk and got to his knees on the floor in front of her. His gaze fell upon her, full of desire and hunger, and she felt her throat tightening with emotion. How she'd loved being here, alone in his company and under his watchful eye. He looked at her like she was the world, and every word he spoke brought an inexplicable thrill to her veins. A rush, a surge, a spark. The world melted away as she focused solely on him and on his lips.

"I want you to know that I've never done this, uh, this dynamic before - student/teacher thing. I'm not one of those professors. Oh no, maybe I am now. What I'm trying to say, is that you, uh, you... there's this pull to you, that pulls towards me, and... jesus," he muttered, bumping his forehead against her shin as he struggled to find the right words, "Y/N. Help me out here.”

"I get it. I understand what you're trying to say."

"Thank God."

The doctor relaxed visibly when he heard those words, releasing a relieved sigh as he leaned forward and kissed at the side of her knee, letting the hand he'd been resting there trail slowly upwards to her thigh. "Can I...? Please?" he murmured against her, lifting his head to look at her again with wide, hopeful eyes. She nodded.

Carefully, gingerly, almost as though he was afraid to break whatever fragile bubble they were floating in, he lifted her leg onto his shoulder to position himself firmly between her legs. He brushed his nose against her skin, his hand sliding to find the waistband of her underwear and slowly, teasingly, he began to pull them down over her hips until they pooled at her left ankle. He looked up, meeting her gaze and smiling shyly.

"You still want this, huh?" he whispered. "I don't want to do anything that -"

"Spencer."

His eyes lingered, taking her in, absorbing every single detail of her features, committing them to impressive memory. Her rosy lips, bitten red with the remnants of his kisses. Her eyes, hooded with lust, watching him hungrily. The beautiful, soft skin of her thighs, parted and invited him to touch.

"Okay, okay... Do you have anything else on your schedule this morning or can I, how do I say this, take my time? Obviously, we can't be too long as that would be highly suspicious, but -"

"I'm all yours. For as long as you want."

That stopped his rambling short. It was all he needed to hear.

So touch, he did. He began tracing his forefinger across the crease at the top of her thigh, drawing shapes against her in an upwards trajectory until he brushed the tip of his index finger against her clit, delighting in the way her breathing picked up. His fingers began rubbing and stroking and swirling slowly, steadily, rhythmically, and she squirmed underneath him, biting down on her lower lip in order to stop herself from making any noise.

After all, they were in an office surrounded by other offices. Offices, in which, might have other people in and those other people would surely have seen them walk in through the door together, and if someone happened to hear her moans and remember who was inside, well, that was a sure fire way to get Spencer in a lot of trouble. And she would never forgive herself if something like that happened to him - he was a really good teacher. So, for his own good, she would have to keep quiet, and try to control her breathing.

It wasn't easy, however, especially when he decided to add his mouth into the mix, nipping lightly at the inner part of her thigh with his teeth and licking at the sensitive flesh there, causing her to arch her back instinctively. He smiled against her skin because, damn, he was having a great fucking time and if she decided that they'd never do this again (which would suck but he'd go along with it), he would have this moment forever in his mind. Because she was just too fucking hot and too damn responsive and she tasted so fucking good, and he wanted more. Needed more. More of her.

He trailed his tongue up and down, lapping up the juices of her sex until he reached her clit, sucking on the nub gently and swirling his tongue around it to cause her to arch her back and whimper. He sucked harder and faster, wanting nothing more than to feel her come apart beneath him. To see the pleasure, the bliss on her face.

Despite how little noise Y/N was making, moans could be heard. Spencer couldn't seem to keep quiet, though, even as he slid two fingers in her. She was warm and perfect and he couldn't stop all the groans and praise that was being murmured against her.

When she came, it was with a silent cry, her walls contracting and her nails digging deeply into his shoulders. His fingers continued to pump and swirl inside of her until finally, after what felt like ages, he pulled them out slowly and placed a harsh, slow kiss on her inner thigh, marking her as his.

As soon as he withdrew and got back to his feet, her hands were fiddling with his belt buckle, tugging at it in need. Once he nodded at her to undo it, she obeyed and unzipped his trousers.

"Do you have a condom?" she asked, although she already guessed what his answer would be.

"No. I don't make a habit of bringing contraception to work with me."

"Okay, I'm on the pill... but if you'd be more comfortable for me to blow you instead, that'd be totally understandable."

Spencer's big ol' brain took a while to comprehend what she was saying, but as soon as it did, though, he was pushing his boxers down and pulling her hips closer to his. His cock hit the warm entrance of her pussy, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent, taking in the comfort and safety it gave him, before slowly pushing inside of her. He paused once he was fully seated, his gaze locked onto hers.

"Is this okay?" he asked quietly, his voice rough with the effort to contain himself.

"Yeah," she managed to mutter weakly, feeling him fill her so perfectly. He began moving slowly in and out of her, stretching her body to accommodate his, loving the way she arched herself further into his clutches.

"Oh, god, Y/N. You're so tight."

He bit down on his bottom lip, and she swore she saw a glint of desperation flash in his eyes. But he kept moving slowly, deliberately, taking everything he could and giving back as much as he could. The tension built within her body, coiling tighter and tighter until he could feel the beginnings of her orgasm beginning to build.

If it was hard for him to not make a sound when he wasn't even the one being given head, actually getting some stimulation was impossible. Every move he made was accompanied by a groan and another whimper, and she didn't need him to tell her how much he enjoyed each one of those sounds, but they were getting a little too audible.

Tapping on his shoulder so he'd remove his mouth from her collarbone, Y/N took the opportunity of his momentary pause to swipe her underwear from her ankle and push it into his mouth.

"Sorry, handsome, you were making far too much noise. We don't want to get caught."

The fabric muffled most of his groans, but she could tell he still liked what she had done. His hands found her hips again and began caressing them softly while he worked his way inside of her, his movements picking up the pace as the sensations intensified. Y/N's hands, meanwhile, moved to grab handfuls of his hair as she pressed her lips against his throat, mouthing at his jawline and nipping playfully, trying to drive him insane with the need to make her come, to feel her body tighten around him, to taste her, to fuck her and watch as she came undone around him, to love and be loved by her.

And as the tension had built up, she let out a high, breathy sigh and exploded around him, her hips bucking involuntarily against him as a wave of pleasure washed over her. He followed closely behind her, his own release crashing violently through his body as he held her tightly to his chest, both of them panting heavily, their foreheads resting against one another. He closed his eyes as he allowed his arms to relax around her, feeling completely drained but satisfied.

When he opened his eyes again, he found her gazing at him, her fingers smoothing his hair away from his forehead. A wide smile stretched across her face, and he grinned in response as he leaned forward to press a light kiss to her lips.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Oh god, just awful," she teased, her smile giving it away that it was, in fact, just a joke. Her hand left his hair and moved to cup his cheek, running circles on the stubble there. "We can't do this here again, okay?"

"But, we can do this again?"

"Maybe we should wait until the end of the course? It's four weeks, which isn't all that long when you think about it. After that? Whatever this is between us won't get you fired or anything. Just give us some time?"

That made the most sense to Spencer, and it would mean less risk and no questions from anyone else if they started seeing each other outside of classes. That way they wouldn't have to worry about being caught and could just push their eventual relationship back a few weeks.

No biggie.

"The second you're not my student anymore, I'm taking you out on a date," Spencer said, smiling widely at her and leaning his forehead against hers.

"I'll hold you to that, Doctor Reid."

They parted with a kiss, then that agreement kicked into gear. They exited the building from separate exits and got in their separate cars to drive to their separate homes with the promise that they'd see each other again at the next lecture.

Lecture 1 of four went well and without a hitch. It was only when Y/N was about to leave his office with Oliver and Tina did a bump in the road emerge. Not a big bump, not one that was obvious, but one that made the following weeks more difficult to get through.

"Y/N, would you mind staying for five more minutes? I need to go over something with you."

Well, that didn't sound suspicious at all.

"Sure. You two go on without me," she responded casually, not looking at either of them as she closed the door after them. "What can I help you with, sir?"

"Come on, don't call me sir. That's not going to help my withering restraint," Spencer whined, a high pitched, pitiful sound coming out of him as he leant his hand back against the wood of his desk and gestured for her to get closer. She looked from the door to his direction for a short moment, before walking towards him.

"Withering restraint, huh?" she smiled mischievously, her hands finding the end of his tie and fiddling with it, rolling it between her fingers and watching his Adam's apple bob with each gulp of air he pushed down.

"Don't start something we'll have to finish," he warned playfully, his hand trailing down her side and squeezing her hip softly before releasing her to sit down on his sofa. "How was your week? Did your friend send you those Halloween photos like he said he would?"

Y/N eyed him curiously.

"What? I want to know what your life is like. I want to know you outside this campus. I just... I just want to know you. That's all," he rushed to say, the words tumbling hurriedly out of his mouth and sounding desperate even to his own ears. She seemed to understand what was happening because she sighed and moved to sit next to him on the couch.

"He did send the photos. Do you want to see?"

For the next hour or so, the pair sat side by side as they examined the photos, each adding a bit of commentary and going off on so many tangents that within the first ten minutes, they were talking about something completely different than their previous discussion. About halfway through the conversation, Y/N's elbow had drifted to rest against the back of the sofa and her fingers were gently twiddling one of his curls that always fell over the corner of his eyes, while she was listening intently to whatever Spencer was explaining to her.

It was the most natural conversation either of them had ever experienced, and it continued and deepened and grew closer to a point where neither wanted the conversation to stop, it became harder and harder for them to break free from each other. Having physical attraction was one thing, yet they seemed to mesh so well together in almost every way that it scared them a little.

Unlike their first romantic encounter, this one was calm and peaceful, full of soft laughter and teasing remarks. They didn't need sex, nor did they crave it at this point in time, but rather they craved each other.

By the end of it, both Y/N and Spencer knew they could never get enough of one another. It was something they felt, even though they couldn't put into words exactly what it was.

"This is crazy, isn't it?" she whispered, a shy look on her face as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

"A little," Spencer replied, his voice equally hushed. "But I'm okay with crazy."

"So am I, actually."

Her fingers trailed for his hand, wrapping her small fingers around his and interlocking them. He placed a chaste kiss on her knuckles, letting out a contented sigh as he squeezed her hand slightly.

"I'm getting kind of hungry... Do you think I could buy you lunch?"

"Do you think that's a good idea?"

Spencer thought for a brief moment before shrugging. "No. But I want to do it anyway. I really, truly do."

"Then yeah, I could eat."

With that, Y/N got up from the couch and offered him her hands to pull him to his feet, tugging him towards her as she gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Okay," she said with a grin. "Let's get going then."

Lecture 2 was torture, it seemed, as Y/N tried her hardest not to stare at Spencer during it, but he wasn't doing much better. He kept glancing in her direction, a small smile forming on his face whenever their eyes met, and she swore he winked at her once or twice, which was wildly irresponsible of him.

At one point during the lecture where he got the students to discuss among themselves, he was oh so bold and leaned on Y/N's desk, mouthing, "You look really pretty," to her and attempted to hide it behind a bunch of papers.

And once she'd glanced around to check that nobody was watching, she replied, "You look so sexy in your glasses," and he dropped his gaze instantly to his shoes, biting his lip in an attempt not to smile like a loon.

Luckily, the pair managed to get through the lecture and the after session without a slip up. But, as Y/N was walking away from his office with her peers, she patted her pockets and realised she'd 'forgotten' her phone back in Dr Reid's office.

"Left my phone. See you guys next week," she called to her friends as she turned round and headed in the opposite direction.

As soon as she reentered his door, she bumped straight into his chest since he was on his way to give her lost item back to her. "Oof! Sorry," she said quickly, attempting to step backwards but was quickly pressed against the door. She blinked up at him from underneath her lashes and let his hands travel up to rest against her hips.

"I forgot my phone."

"Did you now?" he asked, a smirk slowly stretching across his lips. He brought his hand to cup her cheek before pulling her forward for a passionate kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to deepen their kiss, trying her best not to moan into his mouth. She didn't quite succeed, but neither did he.

When they finally broke apart, he chuckled breathlessly before dropping a soft kiss on her nose. That sweet, innocent action was all it took for Y/N to cave in. She reached down and clicked the lock into place before pushing Spencer until he was firmly seated on the sofa. She allowed herself to be tugged onto his lap and they, once again, engaged in debauchery on school grounds.

Then lecture 3 of four was tense. The class was silent as the students took their final test. Spencer couldn't show his favourite student any type of affection or extra help in this moment as not only would it be glaringly obvious what was going on between them, but that was seriously against every academic bone in his body.

So, he decided to do some of his own research instead. He hadn't been on that many dates in his life and had no clue what was a good venue close by. There was a good coffee shop on campus but that would be unsuitable considering the nature of how their relationship had begun. That was a little too close to home for Reid's liking.

It was a lot to think about. He needed it to be absolutely perfect because what if the moment the taboo part of their relationship disappeared, she was no longer attracted to him and he'd ruined everything before he even got a chance to make progress?

Eventually, he was brought out of his self induced reverie when someone placed their test on his desk, causing his head to shoot up immediately. He gave the student an enthusiastic thumbs up and flashed a bright smile at him. Soon, student after student after student was coming up to his desk to put their finals down.

Y/N had finished. She finished a while ago but was still sitting in her seat, one hand holding up her head, the other drawing on a scrap bit of paper. Not wanting to be the first person to get up, she'd prolonged her time by sketching a certain professor and got carried away, completely missing the multiple people who'd finished and exited the hall after her.

By the time she noticed, Dr Reid was calling out, "5 more minutes." She snapped out of her trance and looked up to see him grinning at her, his finger pointing to the portrait of him with such a teasing flourish that she had to fight the urge to roll her eyes.

With an inaudible giggle, she packed her stuff and stood up, taking slow careful steps towards the man waiting for her near his desk. Spencer's expression softened as she placed her test down, then slid her drawing right in front of him. Just below his portrait, she'd written, 'You’re sweeter than π' and a chuckle slipped past his lips and fell into the mostly empty room as he picked up the picture and gazed at her talent fully drawn artwork.

All he could do for now was mouth, "Office?" and hope she understood what he meant by it. Officially, his office drop ins had concluded the week before, but he'd make an exception in this instance. After all, he wanted to keep her with him for a little bit longer.

Understand, she did. Spencer opened his office door and was greeted with the sight of Y/N reading one of the books from his shelf, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting from the machine next to his desk, and two fresh mug fulls on his desk.

"The Disappearing Spoon is for total nerds," she remarked jokingly, placing her book back on the shelf and turning towards him, leaning against the edge of his desk as she looked up at him expectantly.

"Well, you were the one reading it. Nerd."

"It was in your library. Nerd."

After giving her a little shrug, Spencer walked over to where she was standing and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on top of her head. "How'd you find the test?" he asked, kissing the side of her head lightly.

"Oh, it was easy as pie." Her smile widened and she wrapped her arms around his waist to return the hug. "I had plenty of time to waste doodling."

"Is that so?" he murmured against her hair. "Oh, by the way, not that it will change much because I'm sure you'll do great regardless, I was planning on sending your test to one of my professor friends because I'm very very biassed."

"Damn, I did this to get my grades up and it was all for nothing," she jested, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes.

"What a shame."

Spencer smirked, cupping the back of her neck and planting a gentle peck on her lips. He hummed contently, smiling into the kiss as he nipped on her bottom lip softly before pulling back with a sheepish expression.

"You are joking, right?"

"Yes, Spencer. I am."

"That's good."

He smiled softly at her before pressing another quick peck on the corner of her mouth and pulling away, letting her go as he walked towards the coffee, which he so desperately needed right now, and added so much sugar to it that it might actually melt his teeth. With his mug of coffee in hand, he made his way to his seat where Y/N was already sitting cross legged in his chair, her hands resting on her lap and a big grin on her face.

Okay, he was no stranger to sitting on his desk so he hopped right up there, placing his mug on her table, before reaching for a piece of paper and pen. He'd look at her for a moment then begin scribbling then look at her, repeating this process a few times before she caught on.

"Do you want me to pose?"

"No, just make sure you're looking at me," he mumbled, barely able to keep eye contact with her as he stared intently at his masterpiece. His lines were both wibbly and wobbly, he'd made her teeth absolutely huge, her head was the size and shape of a television screen, and her hair, oh, it was like a literal bird's nest. She loved it.

"Very surreal, Dr. Reid," she whispered, leaning her chin on her hand as she moved in for a closer look at what he'd produced. She knew his style wasn't for everyone and possibly could come across as rude to those who didn't know him well, but she honestly found it adorable. "I love the crazed look in my eyes, looks like I just killed a man."

"Hope not. I'd have to catch you if you did that."

"If you could catch me."

"I've faced tougher foes than you. I could catch you." He clicked his fingers together. "Catch you like that."

"Hmmm...I don't think you could."

She watched as he turned back to her, a small crease forming between his brows as he braced his hands against the desk, holding himself up as he dipped down to catch her lips in a loving kiss. Once he drew back from it, he mumbled, "Caught you."

The drawings of each other soon turned into self portraits, which turned into their favourite animal, that turned into just random objects around his office that they could see. They were constantly making comments to each other on their works, giggling, arguing and generally enjoying themselves immensely. It was like a new routine, it was a game; it was something special and unique for just the two of them, especially since she was in need of some fun after the test she'd been through.

But all good things have to come to an end. Disrupting Spencer halfway through a fact he was gushing about, his phone rang. He jumped slightly and cursed silently as he tried to hide his disappointment in seeing who was calling at this hour. A slight frown settled onto his face as he picked up the call, glancing apologetically at Y/N as he listened to Garcia give him the details.

His other job was in need of doing.

"FBI business?"

"Yeah... I have to go."

"Knock em' dead, Sir," Y/N cheered, standing up from her desk and stretching lazily. She hadn't even taken five steps when she felt strong, firm hands wrap around her waist, tugging her against Spencer's chest. She tilted her head backwards slightly to look at him, unable to help the smile that broke out across her face as he planted a long kiss on her forehead.

"I gotta go," he murmured, more to remind himself than anything else, against her temple before pulling back to gather all the stuff he needed, which included her self portrait.

After giving her what was supposed to be one last kiss, he pulled back from her once again, straightening out his tie and jacket as he made his way to the door. But instead of leaving right away, he turned around to face her again and gave her the last last kiss before saying goodbye. He waited until she shut the office door before them making his way down the stairs.

Lecture 4 didn't exactly go to plan. It was another online one, which would've been fine since he wasn't going over anything new and it was more of a way for Reid to say goodbye to his students, but he wasn't there in person to do the extra curricular activities that he'd planned. The case was all the way up in Alaska, so he was on the other side of the country and had missed his chance to finally take Y/N out on the date she deserved.

Reid apologised profusely to his class that he'd gotten held up on a family annihilator's case that, in the grand scheme of things, was vastly more important to solve than to say his adieu's to college kids. There were lives to save. He still hoped he'd get another chance to make up for it later.

Still, he privately messaged her as soon as he had the chance to. It read, 'I'll make it up to you as soon as I get back.' and was quickly followed by his phone number. 'Later tonight?'

Watching her camera feed, he saw the moment she typed in his number on her cell, her thumbs concocting a text that he was sure was so witty and entertaining. Another student was talking at the moment - Spencer knew he should listen - and that gave them perfect cover to start texting.

Unknown: Hi <3

His cheeks flushed. It was simple, but so very effective.

Pretty Boy Swag: Hi :) I miss you.

Her heart swelled and she couldn't stop the giddy smile that spread across her face. He took note of it, of course. She was so expressive, so easy to read, so easy to know.

Mistress of the Dark: I miss you too. How's Alaska? How many fingers have you lost to frostbite?

Pretty Boy Swag: Too many. Far too many. I'm wearing two shirts, two cardigans and a sweater and I'm still shivering.

Throughout the zoom, they continued to use any bit of free time they saw to start messaging back and forth. If anyone thought that Dr Reid was distracted, they'd be correct. He had to ask people to repeat what they'd said more times than he should've, and then blamed it on the weak WiFi signal he was getting out in the cold. The WiFi was atrocious, but there was a more distracting factor in play.

Eventually, the case was solved. It had taken a week and a half or so to be solved, but it was solved nonetheless, and Spencer couldn't wait for it to be finished. Obviously, he didn't want more people to die, he wanted to avoid that at all costs, but his reasons for staying up for the past 72 hours to get the job done were for less than honourable means.

Pretty Boy Swag: My flight should arrive at 12 tonight. Thank God! I'm so tired. I promise to see you tomorrow.

Mistress of the Dark: I can come and pick you up if you'd like me to?

Pretty Boy Swag: No, I'm okay. You don't have to do that.

Mistress of the Dark: What if I want to do that? I don't mind helping.

Despite the fact he was surrounded by his very good friends who were all masters at reading his every move, he still smiled to himself like he was in his own little dream world. Ring the alarm bells, technophobe Spencer Reid was caught giggling at his smartphone.

Pretty Boy Swag: Only if you're sure you want to.

Mistress of the Dark: Trust me. I want to <3

Pretty Boy Swag: <3

And he was using emoticons? Who had he become?

Hotch eventually had to tell everyone on the plane to stop teasing the resident genius, though a few comments by Garcia did slip through the cracks in Aaron's usually stoic expression. By the time they got off the plane, however, they were all too focused on getting home to notice that Spencer had already slipped away without joining in on the group complaint session about how late it was.

It took no time at all to find Y/N's vehicle. It was the only one in the entire parking lot that had a light on the driver's side. Spencer didn't mean to creep up to the window, but he could be rather light footed without realising it, and scared the living shit out of her when his knuckles lightly tapped against the glass by her head.

Y/N yelped, startled enough to jump out of her skin, before turning in her seat to look at him. When her gaze met his, her shock was replaced by a wide, goofy grin, her eyes sparkling. As he smiled right back, she rolled down the window to lean over and kiss him quickly, before sliding the passenger side door open and motioning him to come inside.

"Do you always let strange men into your car?"

"Only if they're cute." She gave him a once over. "Your place or mine?"

"I'll give you directions to mine."

The moment Spencer stepped into his house, he was making a beeline for his coffee machine. Y/N slapped his hand away as soon as she realised he'd turned the device on.

"Coffee? At this time? Really?"

"I want to spend time with you."

His eyes were big and brown and pleading, his brow furrowed, and his lips pursed like he was trying not to pout. She stared at him for a second, just admiring the sight before her, before chuckling, rolling her eyes, and taking ahold of his hand.

"We can spend time together tomorrow morning. Now, where do you slumber?" she asked, her words definitive but playful.

Spencer couldn't believe his luck. He practically skipped along the hallway to his bedroom, pulling her with him so enthusiastically that he surely used up the final remainder of his energy just on that movement.

"Strip," she demanded.

Who was he to deny her? He was down to his underwear in one sluggish minute, and although he'd typically be self conscious having a lack of clothes on in front of a pretty girl, but thanks to his exhaustion, he didn't have enough energy to care.

"Do you wear pyjamas to bed, Doctor Reid?" He pointed in the general direction of his dresser, towards one specific drawer, where his pyjamas lay neatly folded. She took some off the stack and began pulling them onto his body. "Aw, you've got Tardis pyjamas. You're such a nerd. Do you mind if I borrow a pair?"

"Go ahead."

He shrugged while he watched her pull on her pjs, completely unbothered by the fact that he was very obviously entranced by every move she made. Every single movement, every curve or dip, even the slight imperfections in her skin that he loved so much. They were all so fascinating. So utterly captivating.

"Do you sleep on the left or right side of the bed?"

"Middle."

"Middle, it is."

She crawled under the covers on her side, pulling him in after her, before snuggling her body close to his. She laid her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, feeling him breath in and out deeply beneath her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the top of her head.

"Are we together now? Properly?" he murmured into the quiet of his room. He felt his cheeks turn slightly pink as he asked, unsure why he was asking such a question when he could be sleeping and not worrying about such a thing.

"You still need to take me out on a date first," she chuckled, rearing back to catch his eye. After a quick peck on his lips, she returned to her previous position to hum, "But, yeah, I'd say we are."

A contented sigh escaped from his lips and, after a moment, he relaxed into the embrace, relaxing into the gentle touches of her hands stroking his bicep until his breathing slowed and he fell asleep. For that night, he was perfectly content just being around her, knowing that they would both wake up and be one hundred percent ready to face the day - their first - as a duo.

[fishsticksloser]

Hii! So can I request Rottmnt x reader who often forgets to eat, and they would sometimes go days without eating because they get distracted so much, and they would sometimes pass. When the turtles ask them about it their like "Oh yeah that happens all the time!"

(Btw this is not caused by depression, the reader is just to busy having fun, and when they do think of eating they get distracted)

Forgetting To Eat

RoTTMNT x gn!reader

Warnings: concerned turtles, forgetting to eat (please eat), fluff, short

A/N: I'm so tired... Make sure to take care of yourselves. I know it's hard, but you deserve to feel good.

Donnie

He does the same

He's not very good at remembering to eat

Or to do much except work

So at first he didn't notice

But soon he realized

Donnie started setting things aside

Started taking better care of himself so he could help you take care of yourself

It worked pretty well

Leo

He likes to think he's on top of it

Leo is pretty good at keeping track of when he's eaten

Sometimes he forgets though

But one thing he never forgets is when you eat

You miss a few meals?

Mans is bringing you food

He'll grab your favorite, even if it's just snacks

Mikey

He is actually on top of it

He's the cook of the house

So he can't forget to eat or no one else does

So you better believe this man is bringing you food constantly

Mikey'll check in at random points in the day to make sure you're actually eating

If not?

Dr. Delicate Touch will get your mind right

Raph

He's also on top of it

He is the biggest brother

He checks on all the if his brothers a lot

So one more person is easy

He asks Mikey to make extra to bring to you in case you're to busy to cook

Raph caress about you a lot

If you don't eat, he'll cry

Don't make big man cry

[thejadecount]

2012 and Rise TMNT Crossover Masterpost

The talks about the Mikeys’ alter egos (pretty sure that’s what they’re called) would be hilarious.

The 2012 Gang: So yeah he has Dr. Prankenstein, which is what he just calls himself when he pranks people, and then he has this weird bug suit thing, who we’re not even going to explain. Then there was that whole thing he had with Savage Mikey in Diemension X—but whatever, what’s with your Mikey?

The 2018 Gang: *gulps* oh. A pranking dude and a bug dude. That’s nice.

The 2012 Gang: Why did you guys sound nervous?

The 2018 Gang: There’s 3 of them: Dr. Feelings, the therapist. Dr. Rude, the supervillain, and Dr. Delicate Touch. The scary one.

The 2012 Gang:…what.

Meanwhile, 2018! Mikey, getting into Dr. Delicate Touch mode: Talk shit about me, get hit by me. It’s a simple rule. Want me to demonstrate?

Anyways, I feel like 2012! Raph would very much like Dr. Delicate Touch

(For all those who don’t know, Dr. Rude was supposed to be this persona Mikey was supposed to have in this one unaired episode about Ghost Bear’s wedding. Long story.)

[saltsicklover]

Title: The Weather

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,160

Rating: PG13 - FLUFF

Warnings: Swearing

Disclaimer: I do not own Bucky Barnes, or anything related to Marvel within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

It took James Barnes three months to speak more than a 'hello' and an appointment time to the beautiful woman that sits behind the front desk in Dr. Raynor's stuffy office. She is the opposite of Dr. Raynor, her edges are still soft, her soul not bared to the world- covered in blood and devoid of sacrifice and suffering. 

At first, James found her intriguing. The way she sat, stick straight, attention always on her work. Her hair was never quite perfect, a sweet halo of frizz adorning her head, complimenting the way her eyes seemed to always crinkle at the corners whenever she would smile at him.  She would always smile at him while keeping her hands busy with paperwork, tucking loose pages into files- paperclips, pens, and highlighters strewn around her desk. 

Every day he talked himself up in the mirror and then again on the train, saying that today would be the day he would speak to her, finally catch her name, maybe even give her a real reason to smile- something more than just being customer service friendly. She's the one thing that seems to radiate positivity and light in the near desolate office he visits once a week. 

Today it is raining, somewhere between pouring and deluge and Bucky trails a small creek into the office with him. The water streaks down his face, hair sticking to his forehead. Droplets race down his leather clad body, pelting the tile floor. 

"Good morning, Mr. Barnes," The dame behind the desk speaks, her voice like fresh honey and it washes a tidal wave of warmth over Bucky. He shivers, goosebumps breaking out over his skin. Bucky is clammy and cold to the touch but it doesn't seem to bother him. The wet droplets that roll off his body don't either. Finally, the women looks up at Bucky, a bit of shock rolls over he features before before it's replaced with a chuckle and her signature smile, eyes crinkling but still shinning under the florescent lights. "Looks like that storm's gotten pretty bad since I got in this morning," She comments, standing up from her chair to greet him, "Don't you own an umbrella?" 

Bucky can't help the laugh that escapes his lips, deep and full like the sweetest expresso she's ever tasted. Her body buzzes from the sound, joy vibrating under her skin at the change in his usually stony demeanor. The furrow of his brow is lessoned now, a smile threatening to pull at his lips, but his expression remains neutral. Yet, somehow, it's like a smile had reached his eyes with the way he look at her.

"Oh, you know, didn't think I'd need one but the weather really took a turn and now I'm swimming in my boots," He almost laughs, almost, the squelching sound of his boots and the harmony of the squeaking floor with each step he takes towards the desk makes him feel the most on display he has in years. The full tooth smile she gives him makes it worth it. "I have an 11:30 with Dr. Raynor."

"I've already got you all checked in, but," his confidence faulters a bit, as does her smile, "Dr. Raynor was called into an emergency meeting this morning, about an hour ago, and she still isn't back yet. She called to let me know that she is on her way, and she wanted me to ask you to wait. So, if you could take a seat and hang out, that would be lovely," She rambles a bit, spinning one of the many rings she wears on her delicate fingers. She plays with the large gem, spinning the band round and round as if she could twirl her anxiety away with each revolution of the silver band. 

 "Yeah, uhh-" Bucky stutters a bit, brushing back his bangs then attempting to flick the water off of his fingers with the shake of his wrist, "I can wait, definitely." He nods at her like he has any other choice, and she nods back, the awkwardness of the whole scenario becoming more palpable with each tick of the clock. 

She sits back down too, after a moment, tucking her skirt under her backside with a quick motion before she turns back to the paperwork in front of her. The only sounds in the room are the light piano music playing over the speakers, almost too quiet for the average person to hear, and the clicking of the keyboard as she types. Bucky can almost hear her breathing, if he strains to listen, the small breathes pushing past her lips and then back in. 

Bucky watches as she works, her tongue poking out of her mouth from between her lips as she concentrates. His heart flutters at the sight, and he thinks he might pass away right then and there when she drags her bottom lip between her teeth. 

He watches the clock too. It hangs on the plain wall behind her, and the minutes seem to tick by slower and slower with each passing glance. But time seems to stand still as he watches her tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He notices the diamonds and pearls decorating her ear, a site he isn't quite used to yet but still finds intriguing. The idea that someone might purposefully stab themselves to then adorn their bodies is something he finds perplexing and she finds irresistible. 

"Hey, can I ask you somethin'?" Bucky finally breaks the silence, the clicking of her keyboard slowly dissipating. She flashes that grin of hers at him and he melts. 

"What's up, Mr. Barnes?" She stands to look him in the eye over her computer. He sits in the waiting area, off to the side of her desk. He plays with the cuffs of his coat, fingering at the zippers and tugging at the fabric. 

"I just realized, I've been coming here for a while now and it has never occurred to me to ask you your name," She laughs a bit at him, one of those small laughs that comes from the back of the throat. She gives him her name and it gently falls from her lips like it's the easiest thing in the world and he decides that it is. Bucky repeats her name back, it's liquid sugar on his tongue- he wears a shy smile now, the rest of his body useless, like he's been zipped into a body bag as his mind spins. 

The rain is turning to hail, the small bits of ice pinging off of the windows, echoing though out the office. The lights flicker, off, on, then back off, leaving them sitting in the dark. Bucky tenses, his hands tightening around the arms of his chair as his companion lets out a huff in irritation. 

"Well, so much for getting any sort of work done now," She grumbles, pushing herself away from the desk. She moves around her desk, but not carefully enough. A low smack, the sound of bone hitting wood is heard throughout the room, and so are the swear words and grumblings that leave her lips. 

"Are you okay, doll?" Bucky asks too quickly, jumping to his feet. 

"Oh yeah, I'm- I'm just great. My knee just wanted to make friends with the corner of my desk, that's all," She informs him, rubbing her sore knee with her hands. She moves to sit in front of her desk, making home on the floor, her back pressed against the wood. Bucky tries to make out her form in the dark, but he can barely see her from where he stands. He pulls his cellphone out, clicking the flashlight on to illuminate the room. He places it on the floor, nudging it with the toe of his boot so it sits between them. 

She offers him a quiet thank you, devoid of a smile. 

"Can I ask you something, now? The way I see it, it's my turn," Bucky hums in approval, "What's going on in that head of yours?" Bucky is thrown by the question and it hangs in the stale air. "Let me rephrase, because I'm not asking about the shit you come here to talk to Dr. Raynor about. What do you think about when you're not avenging or chitchatting with the good doctor?" 

Bucky's thoughts flash through his mind quickly, the nightmares and the amends he has left to make. He thinks about Steve, and he thinks about Sam. He thinks about the community Sam has built with his family and the way they take care of each other. He thinks about how he lacks all of that. The family, the community, the honor. But mostly, he thinks about her and the way her eyes crinkle and that one time her hair was braided back and the way he could see her whole face for the very first time. 

"I like the weather," He says simply, sitting himself down on the floor to meet her level. 

"The weather?" She asks him, leaning towards him curiously. 

Specks of dust flutter through the air, visible only through the glow of the flashlight. Each speck seems to dance in the tension around them, her question going unanswered for a few beats before he sighs in an attempt to relieve the strain building in his ribcage. 

"Yeah, the weather. It seems to be the only thing I really understand anymore. That, and I like the rain," He concludes with a hand tugging through the mess of hair atop his head. He can't tell her that the sun doesn't come close to shining as bright as she does, so he settles with liking the rain. It seems more than honest. She tries to hold back a giggle at his answer. The causal air of it and the simplicity of the choice he has made. She doesn't push the topic further, not truly believing that he often thinks of the weather. But she knows better than to challenge the fact. 

Maybe if they were in a different universe, or following a different timeline. One that they may be able to reach out in and dust their fingertips over if it weren't for the fabric of space time holding them firmly in place. Maybe, one universe over, just to the left of where they sit now, they are still sitting together, but not on the floor of a government sanctioned medical facility, but in a cafe. 

They sit together, knees touching underneath the small bistro table in the corner of the cramped cafe. He calls her 'sunshine', because she is. She calls him 'lover', and he hates it in the way to say that he has never loved being called something more. 

Their fingers are intertwined on the table top, not caring who sees them together. Bucky would be drinking coffee, something with actual flavor because he would actually let himself enjoy it. She still drinks black coffee because it makes her soul feel at home.  They both wear genuine smiles, talking and laughing, enjoying each other's company. Definitely somewhere between date fifteen and twenty, planning their lives side by side but not yet together. 

In the timeline on their right they are together, in their apartment. Sunny, that's what he calls her there, is painting the walls sage green. James, sits in the middle of the room attempting to build a coffee table that they purchased from IKEA earlier that week. He grumbles about missing pieces, rummaging through the little plastic baggies and Sunny just laughs at him. 

She walks over and dabs a bit of the paint on his nose; both of their faces end up covered in green by the time they are done locking lips. They lay on the floor, surrounded by half finished projects, completely head over heels in love with one another. 

She has no idea about the ring he has hidden in his sock drawer, or the way his heart beats just a little bit faster every time she goes into that drawer to steal a pair of his socks just because she claims they are more comfortable than her own. He really needs to find a new hiding spot, but he has been so caught up in the life they are creating he really hasn't bothered to think of a better place. 

There is another universe about an arms length away where they are meeting for the first time. One where Bucky is quicker to forgive himself and more gentle with his own soul, with himself. She hasn't been given a nickname here, at least not yet. They cross paths on the train- she is stepping off and Bucky steps on. Their knuckles graze over each other, both turning to whisper an apology just as the doors shut. 

They lock eyes and Bucky offers her a kind smile, one that has come easy to him for years now. She offers a small smile in return, one that is much more shy and reserved than the one she has just received. Just then, the train begins to pull away, their lives once again headed in separate directions. 

She watches as the train pulls away, eyes still on the brunet, feet planted firmly in place. Bucky starts walking towards the back of the train, eyes still fixed on the woman who holds his attention like a vice. When he finally makes it to the end of the train, he is left with nothing to do but offer her a wave and a smile. She returns it in kind. 

But here and now they sit in the darkness, a storm raging outside, leaving them trapped inside with nothing but each others company and the glow of the flashlight between them. Neither one has been brave enough to speak for a little while. They have made themselves comfortable on the floor and in the shared silence. 

Bucky can't help but think about how beautiful she is. The way that she lights up the room with nothing more than her presence. He mulls over the fact that he took so long to talk to her, and the tightness in his chest seems to linger the longer he beats himself up for it. He twiddles with his fingers, fidgeting where he sits. He is almost dry now but his boots are still soaked through, squelching when he moves. She pretends not to notice it, stifling a laugh with the heel of her hand pressed firmly against her lips. 

"I think I'm going to call you Solntse," He says absentmindedly, more to himself and maybe the room than to her directly. "Yeah, Solntse, it suits you."

"What does that mean, Mr. Barnes?" Solntse questions him, peering through the harsh beam of the flashlight. 

"It means sun. It's Russian. And please, call me Bucky, or hell, I'll even take James, but please quit calling me Mr. Barnes," He speaks candidly, rubbing over his face with his flesh hand. He pulled off his gloves a few minutes ago, the action going unnoticed. 

"Okay, Bucky. Russian sun it is," Solntse chuckles, crossing her ankles out in front of her. 

"That is, if you don't mind- I guess I should've asked first," Bucky attempts to backtrack, fumbling over his words as the embarrassment wells inside him. A blush begins to bloom over Solntse's face and neck, a raspberry hue covering her skin. 

"I don't mind, Buck, truly. Plus they say you can't pick your own nickname. It goes against the whole point of having a nickname," She chuckles, a smile spread wide across her face as the pink tint begins to fade. She doesn't know what comes over her but she crawls over to Bucky, plopping herself down in the spot next to him. Bucky can't help the way his heart quickens at he movements, the proximity of her body to his and the scent of her perfume make him dizzy. 

They sit next to each other like that for a while, the silence taking over again. It's not too long after they are plunged back into darkness, the flashlight in front of them shutting off without warning. The sudden darkness catches Solntse by surprise, causing her to jump and let out a little yip of surprise. She grabs onto Bucky, hands wrapping around his metal arm, squeezing tightly. It all happens in a split second; each party feeling a complete and sudden shift in the air around them. 

They turn to face one another, noses almost brushing. Solntse can feel the deep blush burning on her skin again, the heat taking over her senses. Bucky lets a small chuckle escape him. It sounds full and comforting, even if it is at her own expense. 

"You're safe, doll, I've got you," Bucky whispers, pulling her as close as he can in their current position. Solntse can feel the way his fingertips dip into her flesh, the feeling grounding her in the moment, to him and his closeness. She squeezes him back. 

"Thank you," She whispers, voice barely audible. A smirk slips onto Bucky's slips and it goes unnoticed by Solntse until she leans forwards and closes the gap between them. The movement is clumsy in the dark, their noses bumping together at first. 

The kiss is slow and sweet, lips mingling together as if they have a thousand times before- and they have in the universes that surround them. The way their lips move together is not new to the universes else where, and neither is the way Bucky moves to pull her into his lap, her knees finding purchase on either side of his thighs. He tangles his hands in her hair the same way he always has and always will. She pulls at the lapels of his jacket all the same. The newness of it all sparking tingles beneath their fingertips, reverberating all over their bodies and the way they mingle together in this place, in this now. 

She pulls back from his lips, just mere millimeters, far enough to cause a small whimper to leave Bucky. "I think about the weather too," She confesses, the meaning just as deep to her as it had been to him, even if he thought she hadn't originally picked up on that fact. 

"Let me take you somewhere, anywhere you want to go. Coffee, food, drinks, hell I'll take you anywhere, just say the word," He almost pleads, but the words come out more smooth than needy. 

"I have a shift to finish, and you still have an appointment, but you can pick me up from my place tonight," She punctuates her sentence with a brush of her lips against his, "And you can take me to get a pizza and beer on draft and we can talk more."

"About the weather?" He questions her, smirk across his lips. 

"Yes, about the weather." She confirms just before closing the gap between them again. 

[someone-named-adel]

I will give you some incorrect quotes because my brain trying to write the future! yandere leo with MC rotted when i just wrote some lyrics so this is what they have for now

MC talking with April

MC: yeah, I don't know where my favorite sweatshirt is, and I need it, it has a lot of sentimental value to me, and it helps me when I'm sad.

April, suspecting that one of the boys stole the sweatshirt: oh, and when was the last time you saw it?

MC: I think it was on Sunday, a few days after the boys' visit to my apartment, oh, and some other things I had in storage disappeared too, I don't know how.

April: and you haven't asked any of the-?

Mikey runs past with MC's sweatshirt on, while Leo chases after him claiming it's his turn with the sweatshirt.

MC: Is that my-?

April: Yes, apparently it is.

♪••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••♪

Mikey, using his Dr. Delicate Touch side: So, MC, have you thought about taking therapy to heal your trauma?

MC, looking at him seriously: my traumas make people laugh, Mikey.

Mikey: Yes but-

MC: my traumas, my ways of coping.

Mikey, already sighing wearily: We have a long way to go.

MC: correction, YOU have a long way to go.

♪••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••♪

MC in the kitchen of the den, looking for a glass to pour theyself(? some water while he has his headphones on loud listening to music, oblivious to Donatello's presence:

Donnie, who quietly approached from behind, suddenly placing a hand on MC's shoulder: you know, I don't think it's healthy for your ears to have music on high volume

MC, who wasn't expecting Donnie's sudden presence at all: AHH-, WHAT THE HELL!?, WHEN DID YOU GET HERE?

Don, already used to they sudden screams and scares: well, about two songs ago, you should listen to your music at a lower volume if you don't want to go deaf.

MC: Okay, I'll take that into account from now on.

Donnie: you said that the previous 5 times-

♪••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••♪

April, talking on the phone with Raphael: yeah yeah, I'll ask him.... No, don't worry about it... Okay bye.

MC: Who was that? what did they say?

April: It was Raphael, he asked for his sweatshirt, the red one, he lost it apparently.

MC: Oh, the one with some holes in it?

April: MC, Raphael is the only one of his brothers who wears red.

MC: yeah but is that the one with holes in it or not?

April, sighing heavily: yes MC, it's the one with holes.

MC: ah, then tell him it was Mikey who lost it, Because am I wearing it as pajamas.

April: Sorry, what?

MC, making a gesture to play it down: Yeah, I saw it on the couch and I asked Casey if he knew who it belonged to, and he said it didn't belong to anyone, so I took it, and since it's cold and it's made of soft fabric, I'm wearing it as pajamas.

April: MC seriously, if Rapha finds out about that, he will kill you.

MC: Let him do it, after all I don't even like living.

Donatello, who is listening to the conversation from April's (hacked) phone: bro, wtf?

♪•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••♪

MC: You know, if the government had to silence us for any reason, I'm 99% sure they would silence Donatello first.

Leonardo: And why him first?

MC:

MC: first of all, WHY would you even DOUBT it?, secondly, this guy doesn't rule the world because he doesn't have the materials and the will to do it, and thirdly, your brother is a potential psychopath.

Leonardo:

Leonardo: good point.

♪•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••♪

MC about to vomit and suffer a coma for eating Mikey's invention (with a good persuasion + puppy dog eyes), which mixed pizza with some other food of dubious origin:

Mikey: and how is it?

MC already 100% shivering and unable to focus they gaze: It's.... It's fine

Mikey: OH REALLY?, GREAT, I made it especially for you!

MC, with one foot already in the coffin: that's *insert subtle gag* good to know.

Mikey: Great, because I made it with a secret ingredient, sedatives from Donatello's lab love.

[annab-nana]

okay so I suck at making requests but want to support you the most I can so here I am hihi. can you write something with “hi. i am here to be your nurse.” please? maybe with robin buckley? but you can choose anyone you want ☺️ I love you hihi <3

omg of course and we are 100% doing this with robin! i love her and get so little requests for her so i was soooooo excited to see this one! i love you too sweetheart <333

warnings: not proofread, rambly nervous robin, wound cleaning, set in s4, a little bit of a longer blurb

❀ masterlist ❀

once the lot of you had dashed over to max's after leaving the upside down, everyone took a collective breather. steve, robin, and max were checking in on nancy and dustin was further explaining his plan to eddie, lucas and erica adding in their own aiding commentary. you took the opportunity to slip off to the bathroom.

even though every single one of them was a friend to you, you just couldn't truly relax and think with so many people around you. you also had bigger issues on your hands.

"shit," you hissed when you slowly and carefully pulled your pants down to reveal the damage the demobats—dustin's term, not yours—did to your thighs. they did a number on both, but your left truly took a worse hit than your right. "no more shorts for me for a while i guess."

glancing around to see what you could use to help your wounds, your eyes landed on the sink before you reached to turn the faucet on. first, you needed to get this clean. there was no telling what those things had and could've transferred over to you.

a knock pulled you from your focus.

"hey, it's robin," the girl announced. "max gave me some supplies to help you and steve clean up."

"is steve out there too?" you were comfortable with robin seeing you without pants on and steve wouldn't have been so bad. you would rather it be robin alone though.

"it's just me."

you let out a small sigh in relief. "okay, you can come in."

she opened the door only a sliver before sliding in. when her eyes met yours, she showed her famous slightly awkward grin. "hi. i am here to be your nurse."

the girl always knew how to put a smile on your face even in the worst of times.

"where do you want me, dr. b?"

she sat the stuff max had given her down on the counter and patted the empty space next to it. "right here will be fine." she then squatted down to open some cabinets, pulling out a large first aid kit that looked very well used. "we hit the jackpot coming to the mayfield's. max's mom has always been super paranoid of a skating injury so we've lucked out."

"i don't know if i consider myself lucky given the events," you mentioned, glancing down at your legs. "but, i do appreciate the positivity."

once she got set up, robin started gently pressing the wet rag to your wounds. your hands gripped harshly at the counter's edge while she whispered gentle i'm sorry's and i'll be done soon's.

she kept her head down, eyes focused on the task at hand, but you couldn't help but watch her. she stuck her tongue out ever so slightly in the most adorable way. her hands were so delicate as they touched you. her soft reassurances filled your heart with warmth and love.

"i really appreciate you doing this by the way." her eyes glanced up to meet yours before looking back down at her work.

"ye-yeah, no problem," she spoke quickly. "what are friends for?"

"oh, you've wounded me, rob," you teased, but it appeared with the way that her face dropped that she misunderstood.

"oh my g- i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to. i'll try to press more gently. i'm sorr-"

"robin, not with that."

"with what then?" sometimes, the girl could be so oblivious.

"what are friends for?" you repeated her words back to her. "i thought we were a little more than that."

"well, you're not just a friend to me. you're like my best friend. like my best best friend. more than steve even, but don't tell him i said that because he would be crushed and i can't deal with him being all down. it's so sad and he gets all mopey and clingy, but not saying that i wouldn't ever be there for him. it's just i-"

you cut her off with a call of her name, her eyes snapping to yours instead of bouncing all over the place as she rambled. "robin."

"yeah?"

"can i kiss you?"

her eyes practically bulged out of her head before she fully processed what you said and nodded in agreement. with a surge forward, your lips were on hers, relishing in the feeling they had wanted for so long. the circumstances weren't the greatest and it was highly likely that neither of you would make it out of this whole vecna thing alive. maybe that's what added to your urgency to kiss her, the fear that you would never be able to.

when you pulled away, robin attempted to fight off her growing grin while you relished in yours.

"i have to admit, i like your bedside manner, buckley."

"let's get you cleaned up and maybe we can do some more of that, yeah?"

"sounds wonderful, dr. b."

remember to support writers & reblog :)

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tagging: @fiction-is-life @jellyfishbeansontoast

[rev-was-here]

⟡ROTTMNT WITH A FUTUREFUNK! S/O⟡

⭒For those who arent familiar with future funk, It is a sub genre of vaporwave! It has a 70’s or 80’s feel to it accompanied with Japanese city style elements. Also typically upbeat in terms of tempo. (The song above is an example of it!)⭒

Raph

⟡-He enjoys his music a little bit slower, but nonetheless he’ll give it a try.

⟡-When you first introduced the genre to him. He was a little skeptical. When hearing the genre was named future funk, he focused more on the “Future” aspect of it, thinking the music would be similar to Donnie’s kind of music, which he’d admit, he’s heard more than his fair share of. ⟡-The look on his face is priceless. It’s not what he expected, but he liked it! The keyboard, the guitar, the synth, Yeah. he could get down with this.

⟡- Can't help but dance a little bit. How could he not?

⟡-He also asked for a playlist. 

⟡-Long story short, you may have got him addicted. 

⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡

Mikey

⟡-Oh you like funk do ya????????

⟡-Dr. Delicate Touch approves. 1000 percent.

⟡-It’s his new favorite thing to listen to now. 

⟡-Magic Mike is a GOD at DDR, so expect him to bust out some dance moves. 

⟡-Two peas in a pod. Like one of you will hum the tune, and the other will instantly know where it's from, then the next thing you know you’re both up and dancing around!

⟡-He also wants that playlist ASAP. 

⟡-You’re his new music dealer

⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡

Donnie

⟡-”Eh. My taste in music is better.”

⟡-Lmao he secretly likes it tho

⟡-When you first introduced it to him, you swear you saw a little head bop, but once you pointed it out he tried to cover it up with a shake of his head

⟡-Listens to it when you’re not around.

⟡-”Were you listening t-” “No.” (he was.)

⟡-His brothers clown him about it. They know he likes it. You know he likes it. He just won’t admit it.

⟡- he wants your playlist….for research purposes..

⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡

Leo 

⟡-“Where have you been hiding this all my life..”

⟡-This man, alongside Mikey, has the biggest reaction. Because WHY DIDNT YOU TELL HIM ABOUT THIS SOONER????? THIS IS A BANGER.

⟡-He’s into glamrock, so trust. He’s a big fan of the outfits.

⟡-When he wants something unique to listen to, better believe you’re the first person he comes to.

⟡-didnt ask for a playlist :( (he stole yours.)

[gaymaramada]

Rise! Boys reacting to S/O using their full name:

Y’all know that tiktok trend where ppl were calling their partners by their first name? This is basically that.

Leonardo

He’s definitely caught off guard, physically recoiling when you say it, “Whoa?? Government name??”

He makes a few jokes about it but inside he’s genuinely nervous that you’re mad at him.

When you don’t stop, he immediately assumes he did something to upset you and begins to defend himself.

“Look, I know I’ve had to cancel our last few dates, but these villains are getting crazy! I’m not trying to avoid you, I just— how about we do something tonight, yeah? I promise I won’t flake out, okay?”

Is low key on his knees begging for you to forgive him.

He doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for, poor thing.

He’s extra sweet to you for the rest of the day, going out of his way to compliment you, ask how you’re doing, care for you—

You two are out and he breaks into a full sprint to open a door for you that you won’t reach for another three minutes.

When you eventually explain it was just a trend, he gets super embarrassed but tries to brush it off.

“Oh. Yeah, yeah, I knew that. I was just playing along for the joke, heh. Duh.”

Donatello

Uh, no. He must have misheard you.

He does a full 180 at his workbench and all but yanks his goggles off his eyes, “Pardon, what did you just call me?”

He’s almost offended because that is not his name when you two are alone.

Hell, it’s not even his name when you’re not alone — it’s just Donnie.

He immediately abandons whatever he’s working on and starts typing up a list of all the pet names you two use with each other.

“As you are already aware, my terms of endearment tend to range from ‘dear’ to ‘darling’ to ‘my love’ in the majority of our interactions.”

“You often refer to me as ‘D’, ‘honey’, ‘love’, and — my personal favorite — ‘Einstein’. Never once in the length of our relationship have you ever called me by my full name.”

He’s petty about it because, in truth, he doesn’t know why it bothers him so much.

It’s just his name.

But something about the way you say it so casually just feels very wrong.

When you tell him about the trend, he’s even more perplexed.

“What kind of ‘trend’ is that? That is the lamest idea I’ve ever heard of. Please, for the sake of both our sanities, just call me Donnie.”

“… or Einstein. That’s good, too.”

Raphael

Oh, he is immediately worried and it shows, “Are you okay? Did… did I do something?”

The two of you use pet names religiously, so hearing you say all three syllables of his name is jarring.

He’ll ask you if there’s anything he can do for you and give you space when he thinks you need it.

Which would be very sweet if you were actually upset, but you’re not.

He misses being called ‘Raphie’ and ‘bubs’ and ‘sweetheart’.

Eventually he takes your hands and says, “I’m sorry if I made you upset, or if I’m just being dramatic, but… Raph loves you, and he just wants you to remember that.”

And that’s all it takes for you to cave in and tell him about the trend.

“Aw, honey, don’t do that to me! You know I get all worried about that kind of stuff. I’m glad you’re not mad at me, though — I was starting to miss your nicknames.”

“Sorry, bubs,” You say, and his tail is wagging immediately.

Michelangelo

He’s not too phased at first.

Like yes, that’s his name.

But then you keep doing it and he starts getting confused.

He doesn’t get why you’re doing it but he won’t stop you.

He does get a bit self-conscious after a bit, though, when it’s the only thing you call him.

He tries to subtly guide you into using nicknames throughout the day.

“Don’t worry, Mikey’s got it!”

“Hey, there you are! Your loving sweet potato made you some lunch!”

“Aw, come on Y/N! Could you say no to this cutie pie?”

Eventually, he’s had enough, and you find yourself in a stern confrontation with Dr. Delicate Touch.

When you explain that it’s just a trend, he immediately pulls back.

“Oh! That makes way more sense! I was starting to think you’d just forgotten all my pet names, or something!”

[risewriter]

ROTTMNT: Influence

Future Leo: Raph, I think you're having a bad influence on Case.

Future Raph: Wha?! Me?! You're the one who taught him to juggle swords!

Future Leo: Yeah? It's a combat skill. But you wouldn't understand.

Future Mikey: You both are a bad influence! Luckily, I'm here to give him some youngest child tips~.

Future Leo: Oh, really? Like when he stepped to me the other day to tell something- oh, no, no, wait- to bluntly shout something at me that was bothering him? Nobody wants a second ''Dr. Delicate Touch''.

Future Mikey: Depends, what was troubling him?

Future Leo: That I speak annoyingly!

Future Raph/Mikey: . . .

Future Raph: I mean.. He does have a point.

Future Donnie: *Walks by* I second that. *Slurps coffee*

[leosmasktails]

I’ve been thinking way too much about Peepaw Leo and Casey, so I decided to write a drabble where future Leo also got sent back in time with Casey, but the Leo’s are homies because it’s been a while since everything went down :)

This is a fluff bomb and I’m not sorry ;)

Oh also, Leo = present day Leo, Leon = future Leo :)))

Disclaimer: This is a tickle fic so if you’re not into that please just scroll! :)

(As always, everything is 100% platonic and just meant to be family fluff!!!)

Warnings: None I believe lol

Word Count: 1,837

————————————————————————

That Brought Me Back

Casey had been sitting quietly in his room, reading a Jupiter Jim comic book that Leo had lent him earlier that day.

He had gotten so wrapped up in the storyline that nothing had pulled his attention away from it for a good half an hour, except for the sudden shriek that echoed throughout the tunnels of the sewers.

Casey jolted upright, grabbing his hockey stick and venturing out into the lair to find the source of the shriek, which was now sounding more like… laughter?

He continued forwards warily, keeping his hockey stick out in front of him until the laughter got louder and louder.

“LEHEO! STOHOP!”

Mikey?

Casey stepped foot into the main area of the lair that was dubbed ‘the hang-out spot’.

The scene that Casey witnessed before him wasn’t what he was expecting to see today, but now that he thought about it, he wasn’t really surprised.

Leo was sitting on top of Mikey’s shell, digging mercilessly into his youngest brother’s underarms as Mikey kicked his legs underneath him.

“LEHEO!” Mikey cried as Leo noticed the presence of another person in the room.

“Alright, alright,” Leo grinned, stepping off of Mikey and letting him recover.

“What’s up, Case?” Leo held out a hand for Mikey to take, pulling Mikey to his feet.

“Oh, I heard Mikey shriek and I just wanted to see what the fuss was about.” Casey chuckled, setting down his hockey stick against the wall.

“Oh yeah, he’s fine! Just sensitive-” Leo teased.

“Hey!”

Leo giggled and turned back to face Casey.

“What about you, huh? You ticklish?” Leo grinned mischievously.

Casey managed to hide his reaction, fully aware that no matter what he answered, Leo was going to test it out on him anyways.

“I don’t think so,” Casey shrugged, leaving Leo and Mikey both looking perplexed.

“You don’t think so?” Leo questioned, folding his arms over his plastron in disbelief.

“How could you not know?” Mikey scoffed, a little bit of his Dr. Delicate Touch side seeping through.

“I mean, I literally lived in an apocalypse, I guess I just never got tickled much.”

“Fair point.” Leo admitted.

“You know what we gotta do, man.” Mikey deadpanned before looking at Leo and smirking.

“Yep,” Casey didn’t even put up a fight and laid on the floor awkwardly in-between Leo and Mikey.

Leo and Mikey knelt down and gave him confused looks.

“Casey, my man, I will find a way to break you.” Leo tried to break the tension in the air.

“Okay.” Casey responded nonchalantly.

Mikey stared at him in awe at how he wasn’t getting all riled up at this point.

Even Donnie was more reactive than this.

Leo hovered his hands over Casey’s torso. Still no reaction.

“Are you gonna do it?” Casey questioned, a slight tone of annoyance in his voice.

He just wanted to get this over with.

“Okay, mister, well when you put it that way!” Leo shot back equally as annoyed.

His favorite part was the build-up where his brothers would start to giggle with anticipation before he even started, but clearly that wasn’t happening here.

Leo poked Casey in the stomach, yet the boy only laid there like nothing had even happened.

If anything he just looked bored.

“Lift up your arms.” Mikey demanded, his face scrunching with determination to get Casey to laugh.

“Whatever you want, Mikey,” Casey folded his arms behind his head as if he were relaxing, closing his eyes to add to the building disappointment of both of the turtles.

Mikey scratched away at Casey’s underarms, but still, nothing.

“Not even a smile?” Leo groaned as he attempted to squeeze Casey’s sides.

This kid wasn’t giving them anything whatsoever.

“Can I sit up now?” Casey asked, a smug look faintly painted on his face.

“Yeah, sure, whatever, dude.” Leo sat back and rolled his eyes. He wasn’t actually annoyed, just disappointed he didn’t have another person to torment whenever he felt like it.

Casey sat up in-between the turtles, both of them sitting there in silence as Casey propped himself up.

“Wow, you guys are in a bad mood.” Casey joked, looking over at Leo and studying his face. He was similar enough to Master Leonardo that could tell he was only being dramatic.

“Leo?” Casey poked the red-eared slider in the side, eliciting a small squeal from said turtle.

Casey’s eyes lit up at the sound and he looked over to Mikey, who couldn’t keep up the ‘upset’ front any longer and flashed a smile across his face.

Leo huffed and turned so that he wasn’t facing them.

Mikey rolled his eyes and gave Casey a look, quickly darting his eyes to Leo and back to Casey. He knew what Leo wanted.

Mikey quietly shifted himself, preparing himself to launch at his older brother as he gave Casey a look saying: ‘Watch this.’

“Cowabunga!” Mikey shouted and shot himself at Leo, tackling him over and getting right to the point.

“Mihikey! Dohohon’t!” Leo’s giggles immediately filled the once empty silence in the air.

Casey scooted over to the action, jumping in to help Mikey get revenge on Leo from earlier.

“CAHASEY!” Leo’s laughter became louder when Casey scratched his fingers along the side of his shell.

“What are you guys doing in here?” The older slider’s voice cut through his younger counterpart’s laughter.

Casey stopped torturing Leo abruptly, butterflies growing in his stomach as soon as he heard his sensei’s voice.

He might have been able to put on an act for the younger mutant turtles, but his sensei was a different case.

“We’re just having fun!” Mikey carried on with his ticklish onslaught on Leo, sending Leo into a fit of giggly laughter again.

Leon couldn’t help but smile at the scene in front of him.

He missed these moments with his brothers.

“MIHIKE! GEHET OFF!” Leo rolled over and threw Mikey off in the process.

“What? You scared of being embarrassed in front of Leon?” Mikey teased. Leo only stuck his tongue out at him buried his face in his arms.

“Oh that ship sailed a while ago.” Leon chuckled, “But I’ve also seen my fair share of little Junior here being embarrassed too.” He added, making Casey’s cheeks flush to a light pink.

“Casey told us he’s not ticklish.” Mikey rested his elbow on Leo’s back and propped up his head, “We even tried to get him but he didn’t even smile.” Mikey looked defeated.

Casey had turned to face the other way to avoid the turtles from pointing out his blushing.

Leon’s brows furrowed with confusion, Casey had always been a pretty sensitive kid…

The realization hit him almost instantly.

“Oh, he didn’t now, did he?” A devilish smile grew on Leon’s face as he turned to make eye-contact with his surrogate son.

Casey’s face had turned a shade of beet red as he began slowly inching away from the three turtles.

“Where are you going?” Leon smirked at Casey, lunging for him and grabbing his arm so that he couldn’t escape.

The teen couldn’t help the giggles bubbling up in his throat, desperately prying at his sensei’s hand in an attempt to get away.

Leon pulled Casey into his lap sideways, his hair a mess all over his face as he pleaded with Leon and pushed his hand away from him.

The one advantage Casey had was that Leon currently only had one arm, but he was still a hell of a lot weaker than the full grown mutant turtle man.

“You’re really not doing a good job of selling yourself to them here, Case.” Leo grinned down at Casey already going crazy in his lap.

Leon pulled his arm back and wiggled his fingers down at Casey, sending the boy into a fit of laughter as he once again attempted to block Leon’s hand.

“I haven’t even touched you yet!” Leon was amused with himself, finally slipping past Casey’s hands and drilling his fingertips gently into Casey’s stomach.

Casey’s laughter rang out and bounced off of the walls, all of them unable to help the smiles they wore at the sound Leon was eliciting from the usually quiet teen.

Leon skittered his hand around Casey’s torso, hitting a sweet spot on his ribs that sent him squealing.

Leo and Mikey felt betrayed by this.

“Dude! How did he do that earlier?” Leo was thoroughly impressed with Casey’s little performance he had put on only minutes before.

“It’s all in your head!” Leon responded as he continued digging his fingers into the crook of Casey’s neck, a stream of nasally giggles leaving Casey’s mouth, “It’s a tactic I taught him when he was younger, but we used tickling as a way to build up those skills.”

“That’s neat!” Mikey chimed in.

“So, what I’m hearing right now is that he wanted you to tickle him?” Leo questioned, sitting up straight, “Because his walls broke down the moment you brought it up.”

Leon looked from his younger self back to Casey squirming around in his lap, the pure childishness of it warming Leo’s heart.

This is what Casey should have always looked like.

Happy, not worried about an apocalyptic invasion, carefree, the list went on for miles.

“Maybe,” Leon shrugged, “I can’t say I blame him though.” He winked at the younger slider, bringing a small blush to the teen’s face.

He kept forgetting Leon knew all of his thoughts.

Leon chuckled and pulled his hand away from Casey, letting him breathe and calm down.

“Thahat was soho mean!” Casey whined, now pouting in Leon’s lap.

“Oh, that brought me back!” Leon scooped up Casey into a crushing hug, “You used to be so little, oh, and you were just the cutest thing!” Leon shook him around in his arms.

“Sensei!” Casey’s giggles were full of embarrassment as he pulled himself away from Leon’s hug, falling backwards and landing on his palms.

“I speak no lies!” Leon shrugged, laughing when Casey’s cheeks went pink again.

“Yeah, yeah, enough with the sappy stuff, grandpa-”

“Hey-”

Leo threw an arm around a very flustered Casey’s shoulders and pulled him backwards, “I told you I would find a way to break you! I just never said it would be this version of me!”

Casey rolled his eyes at Leo’s logic.

It still weirded him out how similar the two Leo’s acted, even though he knew they were the same person.

“Wait,” the wheels in Casey’s brain began to turn, “If he’s also you, wouldn’t that mean he has the same sensitive spots as you?” He looked up at Mikey, who immediately picked up what he was putting down.

Leo sat in silence before a grin took over his face.

“I like where your head is at, Case.” Leo craned his neck upwards to look at Leon, Casey following his movement.

Leon perked his head up to see three very mischievous looking teenagers staring him down.

“Okay, Peepaw,” Leo released Casey and cracked his knuckles for dramatic effect.

“Your turn.”

————————————————————————

Part 2

[fishsticksloser]

Hello!! I saw requests were open, so if it's not a problem, i would like to request the rottmnt brothers (separatly ofc), falling in love at first sight with reader, since reader's job is near of the sewers and everytime (Turtle of option) comes out, he always see them, so when he asks April if she knows them, she reveals that reader it's a close friend of her, which makes April and the brothers to organize a meeting with him (i know is kinda cliche but anyways).

Don't feel with the need of doing this, you can easily delete or ignore this request if you don't like, hope you have a nice day :DD

Love At First Sight

Mikey x gn!reader

Warnings: kind of slow burn??, eventual fluff, awkwardness, aged up

A/N: this was a little difficult for me to write... Ngl, I've never felt this so I tried, please don't be upset if this sucks. :( I decided to just do one because coming up with 4 scenarios was too much for my tiny brain...

You work at an art studio. How did Mikey know that? Because you worked right next to the entrance to the lair. He saw you almost every time he was leaving or coming home. Sometimes he'd sit and watch you paint after hours. He wanted so badly to go in and paint with you, but he knew he couldn't... April, Cassandra, and Casey had been around weird stuff pretty much all their lives so 4 turtle men had no affect on them. But normal people? They'd probably faint.

"Hey, Mikey." April greets. "What's goin' on? Your brothers say you've been pretty quiet recently. Are you okay?"

"Yeah..." Mike mumbles. "There's just this person that works at the art studio up there that I really like."

"I have a friend that works there, maybe I can help." April smiles, nudging him "What's their name?"

Mikey hesitates. Dr. Feelings wouldn't hesitate! So he spilled, your name falling out.

"No way..." April gasps.

"W-What?"

"I've been friends with them forever! You so got this!"

"Y-Yeah, well... I don't know if you noticed but I'm a turtle."

"So? I like you."

"You've known us since you were 8."

"Whatever, call me if you want help."

April left, off to talk to the other 3 turtles, hoping they could help convince Mikey.

"Mikey's got a crush?" Raph asks.

"Well why didn't he just say so!?" Leo grins. "We've totally got this."

"Uh. Leo? Are you forgetting?" Donnie scoffs. "He's both Dr. Feelings and Dr. Delicate Touch. This is going to be hard."

"Donnie's right." Raph crosses his arms. "Dr. Delicate Touch feels nothing. Plus, if he finds out that we know... I don't even want to think about it..."

"Well then, I've totally got this." Leo laughs.

A few weeks went by and they still hadn't convinced Mikey to ask April for help, so they came up with a plan to make them meet. It was dangerous, of course, but they still had hope.

He didn't have it.

≺✨*: .｡. 🧡 .｡.:*✨≻

"Mikey, come on!" Leo calls.

"Coming!" Mikey gets to the exit and the 2 of them start climbing. "Where's Raph and Don?"

"They're meeting us there with April." Leo answers.

Once up top, Leo disappears. Mikey looks around, helplessly. The back door to your art studio opens and you step out with April. Mikey is frozen, they set him up...

"Oh!" April fake gasps. "Mikey!"

"What?" You ask, turning your head to face wherever April was looking.

"This is my adopted brother, Michelangelo!" April grins.

"H-Hi, it's nice to meet you..." Mikey stutters, shaking your hand. You didn't seem scared, more confused, which April took as a good sign.

"It's nice to meet you too..." You nod. "Adopted brother?"

"They kind of adopted me." April shrugs. "He's half human."

"Half... Box turtle?"

"Y-Yep!"

It was silent for a minute or 2. Like you were decided on whether running away, screaming was an option. You studied Mikey and he started feeling self concious.

"... Weirder things have happened in New York." You finally spoke before turning back to April. "You said they. Are there more?"

[veearrifarrariboom]

More Captainx2 bad end :3

They searched through the vast void that they had found themselves in. Nothing in sight, it reminded Raph of the afterlife he was stuck in- were they dead? Something at the corner of their eye snapped them out of it. An orange spotted cat looked up at them meowing gleefully and beyond the spotted cat was another. A cat with a complete coat of orange and a bandana wrapped around its head sat still, glaring at them. The spotted cat jumped into their arms and they felt a familiar warmth as a glowing circle of dripping orange surrounded them. 

“You are truly hopeless and yet he still believes in you.” The faraway cat spoke.

Before they could respond they were falling through an orange portal and the two cats peeked over the edge. They reached a hand out to the spotted cat growing ever farther from them. 

“MIKEY!” They shot up in the bed and gave a surprise yelp at the turtle right in front of them who also jolted. Sword- no wait. Casey- smaller brothers- oh right we’re in the past. They took a deep breath. 

“Um, are you okay? Do I need to get Donnie?” Mikey was basically sitting on top of their legs fiddling with his hands- why are they bandaged? 

“Ah no, we’re fine- just a bad dream.”

“Oh. Well um” He looked like he was going to barf- or getting ready to say a lot. Oh boy we’re in for an earful aren’t we…

“If that’s the case...” Mikey jumped up to his face shaking him as he spoke

“ARE YOU REALLY FROM THE FUTURE? HOW DID YOU AND RAPH GET INTO THIS WHOLE SITUATION? CASEY SAID I HAD HAIR IN THE FUTURE. WAS I BEAUTIFUL? WHEN DID I START GROWING IT? WHAT HAIR PRODUCTS DO I NEED? DO YOU GUYS SHARE DREAMS? DOES ONE CONTROL THE LEFT ARM AND THE OTHER THE RIGHT? DO YOU-“ Leo put his left hand over Mikey’s still moving mouth.

“I’m stopping you right there. One question at a time.” They tried to put their right arm on his shoulder but -

“Where’s my arm!?” They flailed around the nub on their right. Oh heavens It felt so much lighter.

“Oh right! Donnie pried it off while you were sleeping, that thing cannot be comfortable man!” Mikey responded

“Ah, it’s not too bad, actually I haven’t taken it off since I got it.”

“What! Why!” Mikey looked ready for a Dr. Delicate Touch treatment.

“Well, we never really figured out how to take it off ourselves and Dee was always busy and uh we just kind of kept it on…??” 

Mikey glared at him, and Leo saw his sword leaning against the wall. Before taking in the two bandanas tied to it, he snapped his sight away to a sketchbook on the side of the bed- was Mikey waiting for them to wake up? Mikey followed their gaze and lit up at the sketchbook.

“Oh! I was drawing while waiting for you to wake up! It’s you! -er both of you!” 

He held up the open sketchbook that had the captains drawn on. They beamed at the drawing, though Raph always felt a little nauseous looking in the mirror, he could never not be amazed by his baby brother's amazing art skills. 

“Wow, that’s amazing Mikey! I almost forgot how amazing you were at this…” Leo almost whispered the last part then quickly snapped their thoughts away. “I’m always flattered to be your one and only good looking model!”

“Real humble Leo.” Raph interjected.

That got Mikey chuckling,  they chuckled too and rubbed their hand on Mikey’s head. 

“This is real good though, thanks.” They looked at it a bit more, then Leo remembered,

“So how long were we out for?” 

“Two days.” Mikey said casually

“Ah.”  The captains are not really shocked at this point. They’ve slept in longer than they are proud to admit before, but it wasn’t their fault!- technically. 

“Oh right! You need to eat! I'll go make lunch and call you over okay?” 

“Alright, thanks.” With their response Mikey jumped off the bed and carefully closed the door behind him. They almost didn’t want him to leave. They gave a sigh and looked around the room. This is the med bay right? Yeah I don’t remember it being this clean though or having so much actual medical stuff. Right. They found their clothing nicely folded up on the desk next to him next to a few medicine bottles. They checked and found paper stuck to them reading “ONLY TAKE 2 OR YOUR ARMS GOING IN THE NYC RIVER!!” Okay Raph this MIGHT be from Donnie! Really?? What gave it away? Just a lucky guess. Leo took three out- Raph made him put one back- and swallowed it with a glass of water that was there. They got dressed and opted out of the scarf since it kept getting stuck under their nub of an arm - sadly. They reached for the door knob and paused. You think we're going to wake up anytime soon Raph? Leo… I don’t think we're dreaming- What if it's like last time? We didn’t know we were seeing illusions caused by you know who until we were snapped out. If I’m honest I’m thinking the same thing, but we have to be realistic. The food smells good. Let's go. They opened the door.