Getting The Boys To Draw Your Tattoo TMNT X Platonic!gn!reader

"I accept!"

redraw of my older art from few months ago

hii, can I get some suggestive hcs with Katakuri, Zoro, & Sanji's reaction to getting their butt smacked/grabbed by their ( gender neutral ) s/o? 🍑👀 thx!

⟡    ֺ   𓂂  headcanons  ,  getting their ass smacked/groped by their s/o.

✸     characters! . . .  katakuri, zoro & sanji.

✸     cw(s)! . . .  light nsfw. groping. ass smacking. writing subji again oml. no pronouns used. not proofread. minors DNI.

✸     notes! . . .  you guys stop letting me write for sanji like this. it’s not good for my mental health.😪😪 thank you for requesting !!<3

there aren’t many opportunities where you can actually sneak up on katakuri, you know...being able to see the future and all. however, you actually managed to pull it off

coming up behind him to give him a hug as he was washing dishes. so lost in your warm touch, when you lightly smack his ass and disappear off to your shared bedroom, he just freezes

dish still in hand, blush spreading across his cheeks. he implodes on himself. you broke the poor guy

he tries to hide his blush from you, pretending it didn’t have an effect on him

he’s lying. it did.

he’s discovering more and more things about himself he never would have believed he’d be into

being pushed around and teased by you being another one of those

when you walk past him on the deck of the sunny and give him a quick smack to the ass, his eye widens. he’s caught completely off guard for a moment before smirking

you don’t make it any better by telling him “nice ass”

but oh this isn’t over. he’s already planning to get you back, you can already tell from the smirk on his face

the two of you make a fun little game. you’ve spent the entire day trying not to get too close to him. and it nearly works. he forfeits and lets you win, throwing his hands up in the air

but alas, he’s a good-for-nothing cheater, smacking your ass before pressing your front against the wall

“gotcha, brat”

the last thing sanji expected after bringing you the drink that you asked for was you pulling him into your lap by grabbing his ass

he’s trying to keep it together, but he’s definitely hollering on the inside

you know what you’re doing, HE knows what you’re doing

as you whisper into his ear “stay with me awhile, yeah?” as you wrap a loose arm around his slutty waist and just pretend like nothing is going on and continue with your conversation with brook and franky ??

he just melts. 

he’s hardly even listening, he’s too busy still thinking about how bold you are and concentrating on the placement of your hand just above his crouch

You know that friend of a friend that you fucking hate?

Also known as, That week-long fling on the way to Zou that you totally regret.

Wenas

Reblog if you’re a female TMNT fan

💜❤️💙🧡

He just saw his hero picking his nose

I’m a big fan of Bartomoleo, such a silly guy 🐓

I rlly went through all the stages of grief with this drawing lmao (acceptance being the last one so it’s all good <3)

4 slasher bastards

⛥ﾟ・。 merienda

synopsis: prequel two to pocus -- a year into your marriage to the minister of flour, and you two had failed to progress past that of acquaintances. so, to liven things up, you decide to deliver your husband's daily tea in a rather scanty outfit, hoping to ignite a spark... only to discover his deep, dark secret.

cw: fluff, comfort, angst if you squint, katakuri is a bit socially awkward, KATAKURI DOES NOT PLAY ABT YOU, he is now twenty-two, you are now twenty-one, katakuri's got it BAD, reader's kind of a baddie.

a/n: yall this took be sooo long

"I can't believe I'm doing this... I can't believe I'm doing this..." you muttered, utterly disbelieving of what you'd talked yourself into.

Carefully, you continued to push your huge cart—which carried an almost comically giant teapot with matching teacups—looking around nervously as you trekked through Brûlée's Mirro-World.

The vastness of the dimensional space was intimidating, despite your relatively large size, making you feel smaller than you already did in your ridiculous get-up.

Glancing down at yourself, you flushed, still completely baffled that you had allowed yourself to go through with such an embarrassing idea.

"I can't believe I'm doing this..."

It had been a little over a year since your union with the Minister of Flour—which you supposed was pleasant enough as far as political marriages went.

Of course, with Katakuri being her favorite son, Big Mom went out of her way to host a humongous, opulent wedding, which blew all others out of the water even for generations to come.

Major players from all over the world came to witness the spectacular sight, and all at once you were thrust into a realm of pirates, criminals, and racketeers, a humble baker's daughter suddenly a permanent member of the infamous Charlotte family.

Promptly, you were moved into his mansion on Komugi Island, where—unbeknownst to the public—you lived relatively separate lives.

Of course, the Sweet Commander wasn't heartless, and did his best to assist you in the transition in his own Katakuri-ish way.

He left himself open to any questions as far as how things worked among the crew, or identifying who was family and who was not.

But anything beyond that, sadly, was left entirely up to you.

You did your best to spend as much time with him as possible—despite your relatively busy schedule—hoping to learn more about your newlywed husband past Sweet Commander and strong.

Diligently, you worked, suffering through a year of respective isolation.

A year of stolen glances...

A year of fleeting touches...

A year of reddened interactions...

Within that time, you were able to find a few chinks in his armor, a small sum of instances in which a brief glimmer of the true, kind, generous Katakuri shined through.

And it was within those instances that you began to develop a crush on your husband.

All that, combined with a few external pressures of image and status, eventually led you to this very moment.

This moment... being where you were pushing a cart of your husband's favorite tea in nothing but a dangerously short, practically see-through, (f/c) nightgown.

And not only were you wearing the tiniest excuse for a dress known to man, but you were also wearing it... commando.

Safe to say, you felt completely foolish.

But, if there was one thing you were, it was determined, and you refused to back out now after coming so far.

Besides, wives did surprises like this for their husbands all the time...

Right?

Finally reaching Katakuri's mochi shrine, you smiled, pleased by the sight of the three patissiers diligently standing watch.

It warmed you to see the regard in which his crew—and in extension, his family—held him to.

They all thought so highly of him, and you couldn't help but think the same.

There was something about your husband that was innately regal, innately noble.

He carried himself with an air that made others instantly fall in line, so much so that it even had you straightening your back in his presence.

But intimidation be damned, you had a mission to complete.

'Time to turn on the charm...'

"Hiya, boys!" you waved, carefully making your way over to the chefs.

"Lady (y/n)!" they all exclaimed together, thoroughly surprised as they lowered themselves in a respectful bow. "It's an honor! To what do we owe the pleasure!"

Innocently, you shrugged, lazily leaning against the cart.

"Oh, nothing serious. I'm just hear to deliver my husband's tea. You forgot it in your rush and I figured it'd be a shame to let it all go to waste."

Visibly, a terrified quiver rolled down their spines, the fact finally donning on them that they had, indeed, forgotten the tea.

"Oh, dear! Please forgive us!" they instantly fell to your feet, wracked with fear. "It was an accident! The kitchen was completely backed up and we didn't want to keep General Katakuri waiting!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, take it easy," you assured, lifting their chins and greeting their sniveling faces with a smile. "It's all right. Things like this happen, and you chefs have a lot on your plate. I have the tea right here, so it's no harm, no foul."

Instantly, their glassy eyes turned starry, their cheeks dusting with a faint shade of pink at your gentleness.

A normal Charlotte would've at least slapped them around a bit.

'How kind! Lady (y/n) is the sweetest!'

"Anyways, I'll go drop this off to him then be on my way. Thanks a bunch!"

Instantly, a record scratch echoed within the bakers' ears, each one of them turning stark white as you began to push the cart toward the shrine.

"No! My Lady! You can't!" they exclaimed, protectively jumping in front of you and blocking your path.

Confused, you raised a brow, halting your movement.

"Huh? Why not?"

"It's not just you," the first one started, warily. "They say no one has ever caught General Katakuri in the act of eating."

"He's ceaselessly vigilant, and can't let his guard down, even during a snack," the second one chimed.

"The point of tea time is to unwind with friends," the third nodded, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. "But for him, it's a joyless act of nutritional intake and solemn meditation for his next battle."

"Well, I'm sure he can make an exception. I'm his wife after all," you attempted to reason. "Besides, I'm just giving him some tea, then I'll be on my way."

"Madam, you don't understand," the first one shook his head. "He is communing with the God of War's spirit in a solemn ceremony of the utmost dignity."

"It's a religious experience for him," the second one agreed. "No one can be allowed to... intrude?"

Somehow, you had managed to vanish into thin air right before their eyes, the tea cart being the only thing remnant of you left behind.

"Wha—? Where did she—MY LADY, NO!"

They all turned around, only to find that you were already sneaking into the shrine, carefully opening the sliding door before closing it behind you.

'You've piqued my interest, dear husband...'

"SHE'S DONE FOR!"

Now that you were really thinking about it, in the entire time you'd known him—even pre-marriage—you had failed to ever see Katakuri eat, much less pull down that scarf of his.

It made you curious.

It made you painfully curious.

Slowly creeping in, you were surprised by a rather melodic voice, which sounded an awful lot like singing.

"🎶 Oh, doughnuts! I love to eat doughnuts! Even the hole's a treat, doughnuts! 🎶"

Looking closer, you were finally able to see that it was your dear husband, lazying lazily with his back to the ground as he filled his rather large and pointy maw with your sweets.

'I don't believe it...'

Your eyes widened, face heating up at the sight of him so relaxed and happy.

Forget rare, it was a once in a lifetime sight.

And you were eating up every second.

'Commune with the Warrior God my butt... he just likes his doughnuts.'

"🎶 A snack attack, doughnuts! Lying on my back, doughnuts! A forbidden sweet, always knocks me off my feet! Doughnuts! 🎶"

He grinned, grabbing another one of your mouth-watering doughnuts with glee.

"🎶 This is my secret garden, filled with doughnuts! No judgement, just doughnuts! 🎶"

Though, in an instant, it was all undone.

In a moment of clarity, his haki had finally kicked in, revealing your presence to him as clear as day.

His breath hitched, eyes widening as they finally settled on you, meekly hiding in the corner.

His jovial mood melted faster than soft butter in a hot pan, and his entire aura shifted from merry to deadly as he quickly covered his mouth.

"(y/n)!" he growled, eyes blazing with fury. "What are you doing here?!"

"Katakuri, I—EEK!"

Your sentence was cut short as a mochi appendage wrapped tightly around your waist, harshly yanking you forward and toward him.

"What did you see?! Tell me!"

"Just you eating! Nothing else!"

"Why did you come here?!"

"The chefs forgot your tea at my bakery, so I came to deliver it for you!" you strained, struggling against his tightening grip. "Kata...kuri...! ...You're hurting me!"

"Don't you understand! You weren't supposed to find out!"

His entire world felt as if it was crumbling around him, the weight of what you had just discovered weighing heavily on his psyche.

This wasn't how he wanted you to learn about his true self.

Hell, he didn't want you to learn about it at all.

He wanted to remain the pillar of perfection and strength you had built up in your mind, remain the noble man you had come to know as your husband.

Sure, due to his stoic nature, the two of you weren't the closest, but one thing he learned while in your prolonged presence was that you had the annoying habit of being effortlessly charming.

Your blind kindness and persistent optimism were a stark contrast to his cold calculation, and thusly forced a fondness to fester deep within his chest from the moment you met.

He valued your opinion more than he'd ever admit to anybody, and now you saw him as nothing more than a monstrous fool.

A fate worse than death.

"Find out what?! What are you talking about?!" you winced, attempting to gain some wiggle room.

"My mouth, (y/n)! You saw it!"

"Yeah, so?! Why are you freaking out?!"

At that, he froze, eyes slightly widening with surprise.

'...What?'

"You're not... disgusted?" he asked, completely and utterly confused.

"Why would I be? There's nothing wrong with them," you raised, a brow, confused yourself by the outlandish question. "Katak...uri! ...You're... still squeezing me!"

Quickly, he loosened his grip—though not letting go—allowing you to take in a nice, deep breath.

"I'm... I don't understand," he stumbled, uncharacteristically, desperately attempting to grasp the words coming out of your mouth.

"Is that what you think of yourself? Disgusting?" you asked, brows furrowed with concern. "'Cause that's completely untrue, and it's important to me that you know that."

Dumbstruck, the Sweet Commander could only watch as you stared up at him with admiration, his arm seeming to have a mind of its own as it carefully lowered you to the ground, handling your body with the care of a porcelain doll.

Warmly, you smiled at him, sending his heart into a frenzy as you rested your soft hand against his toned chest, not breaking eye contact for a moment.

"You are Charlotte Katakuri," you started, proudly. "Sweet Commander... Strongest of the Big Mom Pirates... Pride of the Charlotte family..."

You paused a moment, giggling softly.

"Lover of Doughnuts..."

The man flushed, suddenly reminded of the rather poor singing you had been subjected to earlier.

How embarrassing.

"Your perfectly normal mouth doesn't take away from any of that," you continued, sincerely. "And if anything, it amplifies them because it is a part of you."

Slowly, you hand trailed up to cup his cheek, not shying away even when he flinched.

You saw absolutely nothing wrong with the way he looked, and if anything loved it even more.

'I knew he was handsome, but I never thought...'

"You've been holding out on me, Commander," you teased, very pleased by the sight before you. "Who knew my husband was so gorgeous."

At your praise, the general flushed redder than a cherry, unequipped for any sort of response to such a compliment.

"I..."

He froze, his gaze finally trailing lower and landing on your outfit.

In an instant, his throat went dry, hands suddenly becoming clammy and internal temperature shooting through the roof.

"(y/n)... what are you wearing?"

Glancing down at yourself, you suddenly remembered your awkward clothing situation, an embarrassed flush rising to your cheeks.

"Oh! Well...! I read somewhere that wives usually surprised their husbands with gifts like this... so I figured we were overdue..."

You quickly deflated, suddenly incredibly self-conscious under his intense gaze.

"You wanted to surprise me... with lingerie?" he asked, raising a brow.

Your face was as hot as a volcano.

"The woman at the store said it was a nightgown!" you whined, utterly mortified as you slapped your hands on your cheeks. "I didn't realize how short it was until I got home... and I figured it was okay since your guards didn't have much of a reaction."

At that last part, a vein in Katakuri's forehead bulged, his chest swiftly swelling with intense fury—and a hint of jealousy.

The "nightgown" was made of a flimsy, practically see-through silk, the fabric so weak the man was sure he could tear it apart like tissue paper.

Not only that, but the hem came up dangerously high—leaving a bit of your cheeks on display if you moved fast enough—and the neckline came down dangerously low—your breasts threatening to spill out at any moment.

He didn't need haki to sense what his men were thinking seeing you in your outfit.

And he didn't like it one bit.

"The patissiers saw you in this?" he asked, voice deadly calm.

None of this anger was directed toward you, of course, but to the bakers outside that had the privilege of seeing his sweet, beautiful wife so exposed.

"We talked for a bit before I snuck past them," you answered, raising a brow. "Why?"

"I see..."

With your answer, their fates were sealed, your husband already on the move toward the door.

They were all as good as dead.

"Wait, Kuri, no!" you suddenly realized, quickly rushing to block his way. "It's not their fault. They couldn't have known I'd be dressed like this when I came over."

Your eyes shifted, turning pleading as you looked up innocently into his dark-ruby reds.

The sight—along with the use of a new nickname—forced the man to stop in his tracks, blushing like a school boy.

When he became so pathetic, he had no idea.

But he supposed he had you to thank for that.

'Typical...'

With a heavy sigh, he caved, dropping his murder plan and opting to cross his large arms over his broad chest instead.

"Fine..." he nodded, begrudgingly. "But from now on, this outfit stays home."

Relieved, you broke into a wide smile, giving him a playful salute.

"Yes, sir."

Suddenly reinvigorated, you gave him a small spin, modeling the nightgown at all angles.

"But you never told me... do you like it? I mean, was it a good surprise?"

Re-examining you, Katakuri failed to find words to describe how beautiful you looked.

Your every curve was laid out for his viewing pleasure, your natural radiant glow only adding to the appeal.

You were like an angel... an angel that had managed to sneak her way into his secret paradise.

"I... do like it," he stumbled, slightly. "The dress goes well your complexion... and brings out the color in your eyes."

Your eyes widened slightly, pleasantly surprise by the insightful compliment.

He had a lot of sisters.

You keened at his praise, having never heard him say such sweet things.

"You're too good to me," you grinned, eyes flicking from his to his lips with a wanting look. "Can I... Can I kiss you?"

At your request, his eyes practically turned to saucers, the Sweet Commander feeling as if he was about to spontaneously combust.

You?!

And him?!

Kiss?!

Like, right now?!

Like, now now?!

"I... uh..." he stuttered like an idiot, unsure of how to handle this. "Are you sure?"

You suddenly realized how pushy you probably sounded, instantly dialing it back.

"I mean, only if you want to, of course," you sighed, quickly giving up hope. "Y'know what, it's fine. I'm sorry I made this all so weird. I just... I think I'm gonna head back to the bakery—"

"Stay."

Before you knew it, a mochi appendage was wrapping around your waist—its touch infinitely softer than before— preventing you from turning around.

You gasped, slightly surprised as your husband pulled you flush against his chest, looking down at you with an expression you had never seen on him before.

"Just stay," he exhaled, his mochi slowly morphing back into his hand, which rested atop your hip. "If you want to... kiss me... then you can. You're my wife, after all."

At the reminder, your heart skipped a beat, the words sounding even better coming off his tongue.

"Damn right," you grinned, carefully tossing an arm over his shoulder to pull him closer. "And I am very proud."

Unable to respond, the man simply turned rigid, allowing you to move as you pleased.

With bated breath, you leaned in, hooking your manicured finger on the hem of his scarf and carefully tugging it down, going slow since you felt him flinch.

Once again, you were met with the entirety of his handsome face, fangs and scars alike all there for you admire.

A privilege you would not take lightly.

"You are so beautiful, Kuri," you whispered with wonder, cupping his cheek in your soft palm. "I wish you could see what I'm seeing right now."

Nervous, Katakuri was quick to avoid eye contact with you, only humming in response at your praise.

But you moved right on your merry way, allowing your thumb to caress his cheekbone before you finally pressed your plush lips against his, making sure to be wary of his teeth.

But your worries were soon shoved back into the recesses of your mind, making way for the indescribable feeling of utter bliss coursing your veins.

It felt as if you had been struck by lightning and swept off your feet at the same time, the Sweet Commander having to tighten his grip around your waist in order to keep you from toppling over.

He tasted so sweet, and he felt so right, like coming home to a warm hug, or eating a freshly glazed doughnut.

As a child, you never understood what the fairytale books were talking about when they described a kiss as magical.

But now?

It couldn't have made more sense.

Just as quickly as the feeling came, it disappeared, the two of you separating so as not to get too caught up in the moment.

Teasingly, you licked your lips, glancing up at your husband with a mischievous look.

"I'd know my strawberry cream doughnut anywhere," you teased, resting your hand against his chest. "You taste just like 'em."

Flushed, his gaze slid away from you once again, though he managed to keep his hold on your waist.

"There's still more left over.... if you would like to join me for the rest of my merienda?" he suggested, nerves still buzzing through his stomach.

But to his surprise, you nodded vigorously, smiling as brightly as the sun—the sight effectively melting a large chunk of his hardened, mochi heart.

"I'd love to."

Me reading the fanfic:

Interstellar

Bayverse! Donatello x Reader

It was pure luck that they got to meet you, or perhaps it was fate. It all started with Kevin, their pizza guy. He was reliable, didn't particularly care that they were turtles. He simply did his job and kept it moving. A true New Yorker, through and through. But tonight, Kevin called in sick, and your boss asked you to do the deliveries. At first you didn't want to, it was late, and you didn't like walking around at night. But he promised that he'd only send you on local runs, and so you caved.

This was your last delivery of the night, and you were in a good mood. The heat that seemed to cling to every part of this awful city was finally dissipating, you had been given a twenty-dollar tip, and your boss' wife had offered you the last batch of cannoli's and a ride to your apartment over in East Flatbush. Things were good, great even.

The instructions had been a bit sketchy, even more so when the caller learned that Kevin wasn't going to be delivering. They, you could hear an amalgamation of voices on the other side of the call, tried their best to convince you to leave the pizza at a designated spot and they were to leave the money in that exact same spot.

You knew it was a scam so you threatened to hang up, but eventually, after a lot of infighting, they gave up and still placed an order for four extra large pies. You were sure to slip your mace into the pocket of your leggings before leaving.

You were expecting a group of teenage boys, not four overly grown mutant turtles.

It was a pleasant surprise. Perhaps it was your neurodivergence, but you weren't really that thrown off when Mikey had appeared from the shadows, rambling on and on about how starved he was. It took a few minutes for your head to wrap around it, but when it did you immediately blurted out that this was perhaps the best thing that could have ever happened.

"Giant, humanoid turtles!" you had shouted, letting go of the pizzas when Leo grabbed them.

"We're ninjas too!" Mikey had announced, seemingly just as excited as you were.

"Ninjas!" you repeated, as if it was the most incredible thing.

Donnie sat you down a few hours later, after you had clocked out and secured your box of cannoli's, to tell you that you had gone into shock. Perhaps were still in shock.

"Oh," you said, offering him a cannoli. "Does this mean we can't be friends?"

It was probably in that moment, sharing a cannoli with you in the middle of an alley in Brooklyn, that Donatello first found himself falling for you.

You and Mikey, you two were like two peas in a pod. Whenever he had a plan he would make sure to run it by you first. Were it pranks, a sick new choreograph, or maybe an idea for a comic book that he would forget about in a week, you were his partner in crime.

There was never a time when they felt like you judged them, made them feel like they were beneath you for being... different. You weren't like April, who was a bit more reserved. No, you embraced their quirks and their unique abilities. And that was something that Donnie found incredibly attractive.

He could talk to you for hours and you would sit and listen, you would ask questions, beg him to show you, to teach you. You were amazed at his skills, and he was enraptured with you. Late nights in the lab, where he would show you how to code, or build your own gadgets were his favorites. Then the rest of his family would fall asleep, and suddenly it was just you and him, the only two people in the world.

It was only natural that you would ask to go on patrol with them, He could see the curiosity in your eyes, anyone could. The answer was no, of course. What they did was dangerous, they got hurt. Raphael had a cracked shell that had almost taken his life, April had a scar on her bicep from getting stabbed. That was considered getting lucky. You were fragile, you would get hurt. He wouldn't allow it. He would not be responsible for putting you in danger.

"I'm not asking you to throw me into the middle of a battle, but I want to be a part of this as well. I don't want to be left out." You said, standing in front of him with your arms crossed.

He simply walked around you, itching to get on his computer. "No." is all he says, his mind made up.

"Donnie, come on." you whine, following to his lab.

"It's dangerous, you don't know what you're asking."

"I've been training with Raph and Leo, they said I'm good, that-"

"Good isn't great, Good isn't going to keep you safe."

He feels your fingers wrap around his forearm, the heat of your skin sinking into his as you stop him in his tracks. "You'll keep me safe, wont you?"

It's a dirty move, but the words go straight to his heart, making him flustered. Of course he would keep you safe. He would do anything to keep you safe. But he wasn't about to cave in. "You're not coming with us, that's final." He gently peels your fingers off of him.

"Please Donnie?" you whisper, stepping closer to him.

He has to swallow, has to stop himself from giving in to your plea. "I can't. I'm sorry. It's too risky. If you want to help, I can show you how to do that from the safety of the base. You can work at the computer, you can-"

This time you interrupt him, taking another step closer. He can smell the faint scent of your bodywash, feel the warmth that radiates off of you. It makes him swallow hard. He's being doing so good with keeping his feelings in check, but whenever you got too close things became difficult.

"Donnie I want to help. I'll be safe, I'll be careful. I'll do whatever you say, no questions asked. Please."

He found out a while ago that he had a weakness for begging. For the way your voice would slightly go up an octave, your eyebrows knitting together, the way your pupils would dilate. It made it impossible to say no to you. So he caved, weak to your pleading.

"Fine, but you stay with me at all times. You don't go off on your own, you don't engage with the enemy. You stay hidden and you let us do our job. Understood?"

You break into a wide smile, throwing your arms around his waist. "Thank you! Thank you!" you say, happiness bubbling your words.

With your face pressed against his chest and your hands interlocked just below his shell, Donnie feels his heart start to pound. It's like his brain malfunctions, and he's unable to think about anything but the way your body seems to fit so perfectly against his. He's never been hugged like this, never had someone hold onto him like they never want to let go. It's both exhilarating and terrifying.

His hand comes up to the back of your head, and he lets his fingers slip through your hair as he holds you in place.

He couldn't have picked a better night to show you the ropes. It's a rare occurrence that the city is so quiet and dead, but tonight is one of those. Donnie has glued himself to your side, choosing to ignore the teases from his brothers. He shows you things that are important, but always overlooked.

Things like where to hide, how to stay silent and unseen, and how to stay aware of your surroundings. He explains the importance of being patient and waiting for the right moment to strike. You listen to him with rapt attention, eager to learn all that you can from him. But the intense eye contact makes him nervous, and he stumbles over his words.

The night seems to fly by, and after stopping a robbery Leo calls it a night.

Raphael shoots him a look, a cocky smirk on his face as he throws his arm around Mikey. "Let's go Mikey, It's starting to feel a bit too romantic around here." Raphael says, chuckling as he pulls Mikey along.

Mikey waves at you, the same shit eating grin on his face. "See ya later, babes!"

You wave goodbye to both of them, and Donnie is fully aware of the blush on your cheeks as you turn around to face him. "We should celebrate!" you say, taking his hand.

His fingers are too big, and they swallow your hand." Sure," he whispers, unable to take his eyes off of them. "How do you want to celebrate?"

You tug, and he lets you pull him along the alley. "I saw a Mister Softee truck a couple blocks away. Lets go check if its still there!"

Donnie can't help but smile at your excitement, feeling his own heart start to race with anticipation. As you lead him towards the ice cream truck, he takes a moment to admire your beauty. The way your hair falls around your face, the way your eyes light up with joy at the prospect of ice cream. He can't help but feel a wave of emotion wash over him, a feeling he's been struggling to understand for some time now. He knows what it is, but he doesn't know if its something he's allowed to feel.

He waits for you in the shadows of the alley as you order the ice cream, his eyes glued down to his hand. He can feel the ghost of your touch still and it makes his stomach flip. He's never really had a... crush before, seeing as he was a talking mutant turtle living in the sewers. But he's seen enough movies, read enough books that he knows that he's in love with you. That his heightened heart rate, nervous behaviour, and constant desire to touch you, see you, hear you are all just symptoms of love.

Because at the end of the day, that's what he feels for you. But he's... well he's a freak and you're human. Even if you're friends, he knows you would never fall so low as to fall in love with him.

You come back and softly place his cup of strawberry covered soft serve into his hand. He's quick to push down his thoughts, fixing his face to match your smile.

"Come on," he says, unable to take his eyes off the way you lick at the ice cream on your knuckles. "I know the perfect place to enjoy this."

He takes you to one of his favorite spots, helps you climb the fire escape until you're both sitting on the ledge of the building, overlooking the Hudson and the Jersey lights.

You swing your legs, your eyes on the sight. You slowly eat your ice cream.

"Do you think its true?" you suddenly ask, turning to face him.

"Hmm?" He's got a mouthful and manners that prevent him from talking until he swallows.

You point at the group of people swimming in the river and he physically recoils.

"Do you think they'll end up with superpowers or something?"

He can't help but snort as he sets his empty paper cup down. "Oh it'll be something, with how dirty and disease riddled that water is I wouldn't be surprised if they become radioactive. They can kiss their health goodbye that's for sure. How much you wanna bet that they're tourists?"

You giggle, your eyes still glued on the tiny little figures splashing around the water. "It must be nice you know, being so carefree that you don't even care about the consequences. I wish I was that brave."

Maybe its the sugar running through his veins, or maybe its the damp New York heat, but Donnie feels something inside of him crumble. He's saved this city countless times, but somehow the idea of confessing to you was scarier than facing any of his enemies.

But he wants to, he has to. Sitting here with you, he realizes that he can't keep bottling up his feelings any longer. The odds are against him, but he wants to be brave. He calls out your name and you turn to look at him, dropping your head to the side.

"I like you" he blurts out, ripping the band-aid off. " As in more than just a friend. I keep thinking about you, about holding your hand." He's starting to get nervous and his mouth won't close.

"I can't seem to stop thinking about you. I like the way you laugh, the way you're so close with all of my brothers. You never judge us, you never make us feel like freaks. Even though that's exactly what we are."

"Donnie-"

He keeps rambling, tugging on the strap of his backpack. He can't look at you, too lost in his panicking thoughts to hear you trying to talk.

"And I know that there's no way you feel the same, I've ran the calculations, I've analyzed every possible scenario, and the chances are just too slim. But I can't help how I feel, and I just had to tell you. I like you so much, and I want to do all these things with you, like go on walks in the park, watch movies together, and I know we already do that but I want to experience all of those things again with you as my... girlfriend."

"Donnie can you-"

"Maybe this was a mistake, maybe I should have kept my mouth close but you look so beautiful right now and I'm just so tired of being-"

You've kissed him.

Your lips are soft and warm and so, so small against his. There's a hand on his thigh, pressing down in a way that makes him acutely aware of every single nerve in his body. He panics and scrambles back, his eyes wide.

"I..I" he stutters, unable to talk as he finally looks up at you.

You're smiling, your face flushed. "Sorry, you weren't letting me talk."

"You kissed me?" he asks, his voice coming out too high.

"I did... I... was I not supposed to?" when your smile falls, Donnie feels his stomach plummeting.

'No! No! It's not that!" he's quick to say, fixing the tilt of his glasses. "I didn't expect it. I was so sure that-"

"I like you, I've always liked you. Why do you think I spend so much time around you?"

"I just assumed-"

Its funny, how now you're the one not letting him talk. But perhaps its for the best.

"Donatello, I've been in love with you since day one."

Its like his world is crashing down around him at the same time its somehow coming into focus.

"I really, really want to kiss you again." you whisper, inching closer to him.

He swallows, and there's a tightening in his shell that heightens his senses. "I..." you're so close, and your hand comes to rest on his shoulder.

"Can I?" you ask, your breath against his face.

He nods, because it seems like it's all he's able to do and lets you break the space between them.

The kiss feels like a bolt of lightning shooting through him. He's aware of the differences between his body and yours. His scales against your skin, your nose brushing the flat curve of his face.

But in that moment, none of that matters. Where he thought your differences would create a barrier between you, they seem to have melted away. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and he feels a jolt of pleasure at the way your body molds perfectly against his.

The kiss is slow, sweet, and even though he needs to breathe he lets you be the first one to pull away.

You're panting as you sit back on your legs, looking up at him with a smile.

Donatello's heart is pounding in his chest as he looks down at you, feeling a mix of disbelief and euphoria. He can't believe that he just kissed you, and that it felt so right. He reaches out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his hand lingering on your cheek.

"That was... amazing," he murmurs, his voice husky with emotion. "I never thought... I never thought it could feel like that."

You smile up at him, your eyes shining. "Me neither," you admit, reaching up to take his hand in yours. "But I'm so glad it did."

Donatello leans in to kiss you again, this time with a bit more confidence. He's still a little bit unsure of himself, but he knows that he wants to explore this new territory with you.

Somehow, he ends up on top of you, his hand cradling the back of your head, his mouth on your neck.

When he takes you home, he tries his best to stop staring at the purple bruise blooming on the apex of your neck. He never meant to give you a hickey, to mark you. But he finds that he really likes the way it looks on you, like you're his.

Donnie knows that it's not appropriate, that there will be questions and awkward conversations, but he can't help the sense of pride that fills him when he sees it.

The kiss goodbye is shorter, and he waits until you reach your room and wave at him from your window to head back to the lair.

As he makes his way back, his mind is racing with thoughts and emotions. He's scared, but excited. Happy, but also uncertain about what the future holds. He knows that being with a human is uncharted territory for him and he wonders if it's possible to make it work.

When he reaches the lair, he's greeted by Leo who sits at the Dojo, cleaning his weapons.

"Sit." he says, in that big brother voice of his that he pulls out when he's about to say something very important.

Donnie takes a seat in front of him, crossing his legs.

"So," Leo starts, setting his knives down. "Wanna tell me why you look like you're on cloud nine?"

Donnie feels his face flush, but he knows he can't hide anything from Leo.

"I kissed her," he admits, a small smile spreading across his face.

Leo's eyes widen in surprise. "And?"

"And she kissed me back," Donnie answers, still feeling the warmth of your lips on his.

Leo grins. "Well, it's about time!"

Donnie feels a weight lift from his shoulders as he tells his brother everything.

[Anyways, my first ever tmnt fanfiction, super proud of myself]

About this post, he would like know all the little known tricks too, like he’d pick up guy and girl-targeted magazines in order to gain as much knowledge as possible. The man is a nerd, he’d absolutely read up on giving a girl head. He knows the ‘come hither’ motion, he knows how to pay attention to the clit, he knows about pacing, and you bet he knows about the ‘seven pleasure points of women’ from Friends.

Critical Hit

Virgin!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, fingering

I’m just imagining Eddie Munson looking at you naked for the first time and just freezing. You think it’s cute and so you’re all gentle and sweet and encouraging and you just lay back and let him explore you.

But within 0.5 seconds he’s got his fingers in your pussy and his mouth on your tits and he’s sucking and thrusting and rubbing and you are writhing beneath all the attention.

“I thought you didn’t know what you’re doing!” you accuse with a yelp, eyes rolling back in your head.

He pulls off your breast with a pop and looks at you with a furrowed brow and wet, pouting lips.

“I have no idea what I’m doing!” he insists anxiously. But his fingers keep fucking you and your legs try to close in on his hand, back arching off the bed.

“What the fuck, Munson! Are you hustling me? I’m - mmm - it’s been like five minutes and I’m already - fuck!”

He perks up at that, using the hand not inside you to pet at your clit. The pressure is irregular but somehow exactly what you need??

“You’re already what?” he asks. Incredulous and eager and way too much like a puppy. “Do you mean you’re gonna cum?”

“Fuuuck…” you whine, dragging a pillow over and covering your face with it, really in order to bite into it. You feel embarrassed about being so easy for him, and for assuming he’d be some lost teenager when it came to your body. Virgin or not, Eddie Munson was playing you like one of his guitars and you were about to snap.

“No no don’t hide! That’s not fucking fair,” Eddie all but whines like a petulant child, tugging at the pillow till you let go of it weakly. His eyes blow wide and his fingers pick up the pace on your sopping wet, clenching pussy. “Are you…are you drooling? Cuz of me?”

You swipe at the errant spit left at the corner of your mouth from biting the pillow and frown.

“Shut up.”

“That’s fucking hot, Princess,” Eddie says with reverent awe. “You’re so fucking hot.”

You go to respond but can’t because he switches the direction of the swirl on your clit and suddenly you’re coming with a soundless moan that has you gasping open mouthed. Eddie waits patiently through your convulsions, staring at you wide eyed till you drop, spent, back into the sheets. Only then does he punch the air with his fist.

“That seemed like a critical hit of an orgasm if I do say so myself.”

“A critical…wha?” you pant, still not fully back to yourself yet. Left fuzzy and dizzy as you stretch your legs and savor the delicious ache.

“So in DND when you roll a natural 20 - ,”

You throw a pillow and smack him square in the face before he can say another word.

andrew bryniarski as leatherface/thomas hewitt THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE: THE BEGINNING 2006 | dir. jonathan liebesman