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stellaspectral · 1 day ago

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Now reposted over on AO3! ❤️

rottmnt raph deserves more love so my request is a rottmnt raphael x female reader! raph and reader are friends but she is much closer to donnie thanks to their love for books and videogames and the fact that she is pretty smart. they are always playfully teasing each other and almost always together just the two of them and raph is starting to get jealous even though he doesn’t understand why. leo is the one who notices it and he confronts raph and tells him that he has an obvious crush on reader and he should try to get closer to her or even ask her out instead of seething in silence and ruining the vibes in the room. but since leo knows that raph is both still in denial and a chicken when it comes to feelings, and that he most likely will not follow his advices, he decides to take the situation in his own hands. leo goes to donnie and pester him with questions about the reader and their relationship until donnie gives up and tells leo that the reader has had the biggest crush on raph since the first time that they met and honestly he is quite tired of hearing her lust and simp after him without doing nothing about it. so they start planning a way to force raph and reader to be alone and create the right atmosphere for them to confess to each other. they succeed and raph ends up kissing her and asking her on a first date! thank you so much, i love the way you write!

ps: i read all the chapters of sun killer and omg i can’t wait for the next one, i love the story so much! you also have amazing music taste period.

A/N: Firstly, I agree; Rise Raph definitely deserves more love! 🩷 Second, thank you so much for the lovely compliments! They mean a lot to me 😊

I hope you enjoy this story, anon! 🫶

Mission Accomplished (fluff)

❤️ ROTTMNT Raphael/Female Reader ❤️

CWs: Fluff, very mild angst, jealous Raph, mutual pining, oblivious idiots in love, meddling brothers, matchmaking shenanigans, first kiss. All characters are aged-up.

Colorful explosions detonate across the screen as you focus on your current mission of utterly annihilating your purple-clad opponent.

“Ha! Your timing is slipping, Don Tron,” you yell, sidestepping his attack. A grin splits your face as you input a complex chain of moves, ready to press your advantage with your ultimate combo. “Get ready to get wrecked!”

Your character, Azure Striker, unleashes her move. Jagged bolts of blue lightning fill the screen, culminating in a massive eruption graphic centered squarely on Donnie’s avatar, Techno-Titan. The triumphant fanfare blares from the speakers as Azure Striker poses before there’s a slow-motion replay of Techno-Titan getting absolutely demolished.

You lean back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head. “Oooh, that felt good,” you crow, glancing over at Donnie.

He lets out a long, drawn-out sigh as his fingers finally release their death grip on the controller. “Seriously? The infinite lightning juggle again?” His voice is a mixture of exasperation and grudging respect.

“Face it—you zigged when you should have zagged,” you counter. “So predictable.”

“Predictable? I baited you into that corner! You just got lucky with the input read.”

“Luck is just preparation meeting opportunity, my friend,” you say sagely, navigating the victory screen prompts. The scoreboard pops up, showing your decisive win streak for the evening. “And I am always prepared to strike.”

Donnie snorts, but a small smile plays on his lips. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, Azure ‘Prepared’ Striker. That just means my glorious comeback will be even more satisfying.” He goes back to the character select screen and highlights Techno-Titan’s purple icon. “Best two out of three?”

Your grin widens as you select Azure Striker without hesitation. “You’re on. But don’t cry when lightning strikes twice.”

He lets out a groan at your pun as the game loads the neon-drenched cyberpunk arena where the two of you will have yet another match. As the ‘READY?’ prompt appears, you prepare to make good on your taunt by beating him for the fourth time in a row in Cosmic Combat Chaos VII.

You’re so engrossed in the playful back-and-forth, the comfortable rhythm you and Donnie fall into when spending time together, that you don’t notice the presence lingering on the other side of the communal area of the lair.

But Raph notices. He always does when you and Donnie are like this. Which, lately, seems to be all the time.

He stands there, arms cross tightly over his plastron. He watches your easy laughter, the way you bump Donnie’s shoulder when you finally win the round, the way Donnie just rolls his eyes fondly. How you lean conspiratorially towards him to point out a flaw in his defense strategy. Watches Donnie respond with a technical explanation that somehow makes you laugh again.

A low growl rumbles in Raph’s chest, something tight and uncomfortable twisting in his gut. He doesn’t get it. Why does this bother him so much? You’re his friend too, right? So why does watching you hang out with Donnie, just Donnie, make his fists clench? Why does it feel like someone has shoved a hot needle into his ribs, a feeling of being on the outside, looking in—

—even though he’s standing right here.

Why does it feel like … like he’s missing out on something important? He doesn’t understand the possessive spike that jabs at him when Donnie makes you genuinely laugh, or the hollow feeling when you get deep into a conversation about some book Raph’s never even heard of. He just knows he doesn’t like it. Not one bit.

He shakes his head, trying to dislodge the feeling as he pads towards the dojo, needing to hit something. A lot. And hard. To let the familiar impact against the punching bag drown out the confusing static in his head.

A bit later, Leo finds him there. He leans casually against the doorframe, that signature smirk already in place. “Whoa there, big guy,” he drawls. “What’s got your shell in a twist? Or should I say, who?”

Raph freezes mid-swing, the momentum dying. He slowly turns, his face already flushed, brow furrowed. “What are you even talkin’ about, Leo? Nothin’s got my shell twisted. Just workin’ out some energy.”

Leo pushes off the frame, strolling into the training area. “Riiight. ‘Energy.’ The kind that mysteriously flares up every time she and Donnie do their nerd thing?” He stops a few feet from Raph. “You’re not exactly subtle, you know.”

“I am NOT jealous!” Raph explodes, the words coming out louder and harsher than intended. He gestures emphatically with a fist. “She’s my friend! Donnie’s my brother! Why would I be jealous?” But even as he says it, the lie feels thin and brittle.

“Okay, fine, you’re not jealous,” Leo concedes with exaggerated patience. “You just glower and radiate doom whenever she’s within five feet of Donnie. Totally normal friend behavior.” He waits a beat. “Seriously, Raph. You like her. A lot. Why don’t you, I don’t know, talk to her? Ask her out? Anything besides standing nearby looking like you wanna punch a hole through the space-time continuum?”

Raph freezes. Ask you out? The thought sends a jolt of panic through him. What would he even say? What if you laughed? What if you said no? What if you only saw him as the big, dumb muscle? It’s safer this way.

Even if ‘this way’ involves feeling miserable whenever you’re near Donnie.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters, finally turning away from the punching bag, refusing to meet Leo’s gaze. He brushes past his brother. “Just drop it.”

Leo watches him, the smirk finally fading into something resembling exasperation mixed with pity. “Suit yourself, hermano. But stewing in it isn’t helping anyone, least of all you.” He watches Raph leave and thinks, considering what to do next. Then, a mischievous glint sparks in his eyes, an idea forming. “If you won’t fix this … guess I’ll have to.”

Leo finds Donnie in his lab, soldering something intricate. You’d headed off to the convenience store to grab more snacks earlier, promising to bring Donnie back something that wasn’t pure sugar.

“Donnie! Dee! Donatello!” Leo slides dramatically into the lab. “We need to have a little chat.”

Donnie sighs, not looking up from his project. “If this is about re-calibrating the toaster to achieve optimal crispiness levels again, the answer is no.”

Leo huffs and flops onto one of the lab’s rolling chairs, spinning once before stopping himself with a foot on the floor. “Nope, this is way juicier. It’s about you. And our guest. Specifically, your thing with her.”

Donnie finally glances up, brows knitting. “Thing? What thing? We play games. We talk. She appreciates my intellectual discourse—unlike some people.”

Leo points a finger, grinning. “Exactly! You like her.”

Donnie immediately fumbles the soldering tool, barely catching it before it hits the floor. “What?! No—I mean—I respect her. She’s cool. Smart. Sharp sense of humor. But that doesn’t mean I like her, like her. And even if I had feelings, she’s not exactly … available.”

Leo tilts his head. “What makes you think that?”

Donnie pushes his goggles up, setting the soldering tool down with deliberate care. “It’s obvious even to me she likes Raph.”

“Wait,” Leo says, grinning. “She likes him back?!”

“Likes him back?” Donnie repeats, before pinching the bridge of nose. “I’ve known for weeks. Probably longer.” He exhales slowly. “I have received detailed analyzes of his musculature during training sessions. I have endured exhaustive hypothetical scenarios regarding potential romantic encounters. Listened to her sigh dreamily over his protective instincts more times than I can count. They are both infuriatingly inert.”

A slow, positively wicked grin spreads across Leo’s face. Oh, this is perfect. Raph likes you. Donnie says you like Raph. This whole situation is a tangled mess of oblivious pining. “Maybe what this situation needs is a little … catalyst. A nudge. To get things moving.”

Donnie narrows his eyes at his twin. “Nardo, what are you plotting?”

Leo leans forward, conspiratorially lowering his voice even though they’re alone in the lab. “Operation: Get the Big Guy the Girl! Or Operation: Stop Raph From Moping Around Like A Sad Puppy.” He shrugs. “Title’s a work in progress.”

Donnie pinches the bridge of his nose again. “Meddling in complex interpersonal emotional dynamics is statistically likely to result in catastrophic failure. Variables include Raph’s emotional density, her potential reaction to perceived manipulation, and the inherent awkwardness of forced proximity …”

“Pfft, details!” Leo waves a dismissive hand. “Look, they both like each other. You said it yourself! They’re just … stuck. We just need to create the perfect storm.”

“Perfect storm?” Donnie raises a skeptical brow. “You intend to manufacture meteorological phenomena to facilitate romantic confessions?”

“No, Donnie, a metaphorical perfect storm,” Leo clarifies, rolling his eyes. “The perfect setting. The perfect mood. Just the two of them. No distractions.” He pointedly looks around the lab, then back at Donnie. “Meaning us.”

Donnie taps a finger against his chin, the gears visibly turning. “Eliminate external stimuli … Isolate the subjects … Create a controlled environment conducive to emotional vulnerability …” A slow, calculating smile touches his lips, mirroring Leo’s mischievous one. “The hypothesis is sound.”

“Yes! See? You get it!” Leo pumps a fist. “So, what’s the plan? Fake mission? Accidental lockdown?”

“Overly complicated,” Donnie muses. “Subtlety is key. We need a scenario that feels natural yet provides ample opportunity for unguarded conversation. Perhaps a rooftop observation task?”

Leo snaps his fingers. “Ooh, I like it! Romantic city lights, feeling of seclusion. Very prime confession real estate.”

“Precisely,” Donnie agrees. “We can fabricate some low-level reconnaissance. Or—”

You return to the lair, bag filled with snacks in one hand, a drink in the other. You glance around, not seeing Donnie in the communal area anymore. So you head towards the lab, seeing the lights on and hearing voices coming from inside.

Leo leaves just as you make it to the entrance, giving you a friendly wave before he disappears elsewhere in the lair. “Okay, brought the goods!” you announce cheerfully as you enter. “Got your weird seaweed chips, and look, they had that ridiculously sour candy Raph likes!” You put the bag on a relatively clear spot on one of Donnie’s workbenches. “What were you guys chatting about?”

Donnie startles slightly, whipping his head around to face you. His eyes dart momentarily towards the doorway where Leo just vanished before settling back on you. “Ah! Yes! Snacks! Excellent procurement,” he says, maybe a little too loudly, focusing intently on the bag you placed down. He picks up the seaweed chips. “And Leo? Oh, just … the usual.” He waves a hand dismissively, already turning back to his workbench, busying himself by organizing wires that didn’t seem to need tidying.

You raise an eyebrow slightly but decide not to press further as you grab the brightly colored package from the bag. The cartoon mascot on the front looks like it’s imploding from sourness. You figured you’d track Raph down and give him his candy early. Just as you’re about to ask Donnie where he is, Leo reappears back in the lab doorway, this time with Mikey trailing behind him.

“Change of plans! Me and Miguel are heading topside. Got a lead on some weird energy fluctuations down by the docks. Sounds … electrifying.” He winks, clearly proud of his pun.

Mikey nods vigorously. “And dangerous.”

Leo slings an arm around Mikey’s shoulder. “Whatever it is, it sounds like it needs a specialist’s touch. You know, scanners, tricorders, fancy gizmos. Your department.”

Donnie sighs dramatically, though you don’t know this is all part of a plan the twins concocted. “Seriously? Energy fluctuations? Must I be dragged away from my work for every errant power surge?” He glances at his console, then back at Leo. “Fine. But if this turns out to be faulty wiring in a streetlamp again, you owe me seventeen uninterrupted hours of lab time.”

“Deal!” Leo says quickly, already herding Donnie towards the door.

“Aw, man,” you pipe up, slumping slightly. “But tonight was supposed to be movie night.” The initial excitement of your gaming victory and snack run fades, replaced by a wave of disappointment. The five of you hanging out, watching cheesy movies, was something you’d been looking forward to all day.

Leo pauses, offering a sympathetic (and slightly smug, though you don’t catch it) look. “Sorry, chica. Duty calls! Raincheck?”

Mikey adds, “We’ll be back super-fast! Probably.”

Donnie gives you a quick, almost apologetic glance before being pulled away, Leo practically shoving him out of the lab.

“Okay. Well, uh, be careful, guys,” you call out as they leave.

You’re then left in the sudden quiet. Disappointment about movie night still lingers. But then—it hits you. Donnie’s gone. Leo’s gone. Mikey’s gone. Which leaves … Your eyes widen as you look over at the bag of sour candy still sitting on Donnie’s workbench.

Just you. And Raph.

For movie night.

Suddenly, the disappointment evaporates. A nervous flutter starts in your stomach, a warmth spreading through your chest, your mind racing. Just you and Raph? Watching a movie? Alone? Would he even want to? Okay, you tell yourself. This could work. This could be … nice. Really nice, actually.

Grabbing the sour candy and your own snacks, you practically bounce out of the lab, your mission suddenly shifting from ‘shared movie night’ to ‘potential low-key hang-out with the giant turtle who makes your heart do stupid backflips’.

Now, where’s Raph?

You find Raph exactly where you expect him—in the dojo. But he’s not training. Rather, he’s sitting cross-legged against the wall, looking somewhere between zoned out and brooding. He doesn’t notice you at first.

So you do what anyone in your situation would: lob the sour candy at his chest.

It hits him with a soft thwack, bouncing and landing in his lap. He startles, looking up. Then his expression shifts from confusion to surprise to something softer—warmer—when he sees it’s you.

“I, uh, brought back up.” You hold up your own snacks, trying to sound casual, even though your pulse is anything but. “Movie night’s still on. Kind of. The others bailed, so I guess it’s just us.”

His eyes flick from the candy in his lap to your hopeful expression, and for a second, he doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you. And then—

“Yeah?” he says, voice a little rougher than usual. “Just us?”

You nod, maybe a little too eagerly. “If you’re not too busy being a broody lone wolf or whatever.”

He huffs a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, standing up slowly. “Nah. Was just … thinkin’. But, uh—yeah. Movie night sounds good.”

The awkward air that follows is heavy, but not in a bad way. You walk side-by-side back to the communal area. For a moment, neither of you speaks. You’re trying not to overthink every step, every breath, every glance you might catch from him in your peripheral vision.

You wonder if he can hear how fast your heart’s beating.

You flop onto the couch first, placing the snacks and your drink on the coffee table. Raph hesitates just a moment before sitting beside you. Not close enough to touch, but not far, either. Just close enough that you feel it. Since you got the movie ready earlier, you turn on the projector and lean back into the cushions as the screen flickers to life.

It’s the movie the five of you were supposed to watch together. Something cheesy and action-packed, full of bad one-liners and over-the-top explosions. But now, it’s just you and Raph. And he’s so aware of you next to him.

And you’re so aware of him trying not to look at you too much.

During the movie, your knees bump once—then again—and neither of you moves away. And about halfway through, Raph speaks. Almost too quietly to hear over the explosions on the screen.

“… I’m glad it’s just us.”

You look at him, your breath catching. “Yeah?”

He nods, eyes fixed on the screen like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. “I mean, I like when we all hang out. But tonight … this is nice.”

Your heart stumbles over itself, and you lean just a little closer, emboldened. “Yeah. It is.”

Another pause.

Then he finally looks at you—really looks at you—and says, voice low and uncertain, “Hey, can I tell you somethin’ kinda dumb?”

You smile. “I don’t think anything you say could be dumb.”

He grunts softly, like he doesn’t believe that, but he takes a breath, anyway. “I like you. A lot.” He pauses. “I’ve been tryin’ to say it for so long, but … but I didn’t wanna mess up what we already got.”

You blink, the warmth in your chest exploding into something bright and golden. “For the record … I like you too. A lot.”

His eyes widen, and for a split second, he looks like he just short-circuited. And then he smiles. This soft, genuine, Raph smile—like you just handed him the universe. You lean your head gently against his shoulder, and he shifts slightly to lean into you, cautious but firm, as if afraid you’ll disappear if he moves too fast.

On the screen, there’s another explosion.

But the real fireworks come when Raph, his heart thundering a rhythm against his plastron that you can almost feel, finally turns fully towards you. The flashing colors from the movie screen dance across his features, but all you can focus on are his eyes. Intense, vulnerable, and searching yours.

He lifts a hand, big and calloused, and gently—so gently—tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His knuckles brush your cheek, and the touch sends a delightful shiver racing down your spine. “So,” he starts, his voice huskier now, “is this for real?”

You nod, unable to trust your voice for a moment, a radiant, joyful smile spreading across your face. Words feel inadequate for the soaring feeling in your chest.

That silent confirmation seems to be all the encouragement he needs. He leans in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. But you don’t. You can’t. You don’t want to.

You meet him halfway, your eyes fluttering closed as your worlds tilt, colliding in the best possible way. His lips meet yours, hesitant at first. You lean into him, a soft sigh escaping you. The kiss deepens, slow and sweet and full of all the things you’ve both been too scared to say.

When you finally break apart, both a little breathless, he rests his forehead against yours. A wide, almost disbelieving grin stretches across his face, and his eyes remain closed as if he is savoring the moment. “Wow,” he breathes out, the single word laden with emotion.

You giggle. “Wow is right.”

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes again, his own shining. “So, uh,” he clears his throat, a faint blush dusting his cheeks, making him look so endearing. He scratches the back of his neck, that classic Raph gesture when he’s nervous but pushing through. “Since … since this is, y’know, real and all … I was wonderin’ if maybe … you’d wanna go on a date? With me? Like an actual one. Just us?”

The words are out, a hopeful, slightly clumsy tumble, and you can’t stop the beaming smile that spreads across your face. “A date?” you echo softly, your voice laced with playful surprise. “With the mighty Raphael Hamato? Are you sure you can handle it?”

His blush deepens, but he grins. “Pretty sure I’m the one who should be askin’ you that.”

“In that case,” you say, your voice full of warmth and certainty, “I would absolutely love to go on a date with you.”

His grin widens even more, if it’s even possible. “Awesome!” he exclaims, then visibly reigns himself in a little, though the excitement is still clear on his face. “I, uh … I’ll think of somewhere good for us to go.”

You snuggle back against his side, feeling his arm coil around you, pulling you closer this time. The movie continues to play, the hero spouting another terrible one-liner, but neither of you is really watching anymore. Eventually, the overly dramatic finale comes and goes.

“Next time,” Raph says, “I’m pickin’ the movie. Somethin’ with fewer explosions and more reasons to cuddle.”

You smirk. “Deal.”

Again, the two of you kiss. And somewhere, not too far away, a trio of turtle brothers high-five in the shadows.

Mission very much accomplished.

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