Donatello's First Love—Splinter's Talk

Let Me Take Care of You

Word count: 1900

Masterlist

Notes: A small, very light and cute one-shot in response to a post I saw a while ago. I really love Katakuri, and I’ve been wanting to write for him for a while, but I didn’t have a real project involving him. So when I saw your post, @mew-ya , I decided to go for it. I found your idea adorable, and it inspired this piece. It’s not much, but I hope you’ll like it nonetheless. I’m taking this chance to say that I really love your art, and your OC Maren is so cool! I absolutely love the duo he forms with Katakuri! 😍

Tags: Katakuri x gn!Reader, fluff, comfort, reader needs rest, SFW. English isn't my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

You’ve lost track of the days.

Since the failure of Pudding’s wedding, chaos has taken over Whole Cake Island, and rumors of the Charlotte Family’s disgrace are spreading like wildfire across the seas of the New World.

Alliances have been shaken, mistrust is eating away at the bonds woven between the different factions, and the pressure on Big Mom’s powerful family has become unbearable.

You were thrown into this turmoil immediately.

Your days blur together without pause, dictated by tense meetings, endless negotiations, and discussions where every word is carefully weighed. Even though she is not currently on the island, the Empress’s shadow looms over every exchange, and the slightest misstep could prove fatal.

But it’s not just the allies you have to deal with.

The Charlotte family members themselves have become more demanding, more impatient. They want guarantees, results, immediate solutions. You barely have time to breathe between requests.

"Prepare a detailed report on this week’s commercial movements." "We need to review the treaty conditions, make sure the new proposals are drafted by tomorrow." "Tell the cook I want a special dessert, now." "Why hasn’t this file been sent yet?" " The ministers of Totto Land are meeting in an hour, make sure everything is ready.."

Each demand piles on top of the last, forming a mountain of responsibilities that never seems to shrink.

You barely sleep, sometimes you forget to eat, but you don’t have the luxury of slowing down.

As Katakuri’s spouse, you cannot afford to fail.

Fortunately, you are never truly alone. There is always someone – or rather something – there to assist you without you even needing to lift a finger.

The Homies are everywhere around you. These little sentient beings, created by Big Mom, seem to anticipate your every need.

When you sit at your desk, a chair slides under you before you even pull it out.

When you reach for a pen, one of them is already handing it to you, practically vibrating with enthusiasm at the idea of serving you.

When an endless discussion with influential members of the Charlotte family leaves your throat dry, a cup of hot tea magically appears on the table in front of you, placed on a tray by a Homie who doesn’t say a word, preferring to slip away as soon as its task is complete.

If your stomach lets out a quiet growl - which you usually ignore, too focused on your work - a plate of food is suddenly placed beside you. Carefully chosen snacks, never too heavy, just enough to give you a boost of energy without forcing you to stop for too long. You’ve gotten used to eating without thinking, mechanically swallowing whatever is placed in front of you between two paragraphs, two reports, two meetings.

The Homies chatter cheerfully and frenetically around you, and you absentmindedly nod in acknowledgment, accepting what they offer without truly paying attention.

Everything is fluid, organized, almost too perfect. You never have to ask for anything. Everything you need is already there. You accept this silent help as a given, without questioning its origin, without even imagining that someone might be behind it all.

And yet…

That night, you are far too absorbed in your work to wonder about this strange phenomenon.

For weeks, you’ve been stringing together meetings and negotiations with relentless discipline. You barely sleep, you forget to eat, and whenever Katakuri tries to remind you to take a break, you always give him the same answer:

"I’m fine."

No.

You are not fine.

He has been watching you for days, waiting.

Each night, you stay awake long after Katakuri returns from his own missions. Sometimes, he finds you still sitting at your desk at dawn, dark circles under your eyes, fingers tightly gripping a pen or a stack of documents.

Katakuri is not a man of many words. He prefers to observe, to understand. He knows how to spot a crack before it becomes a fracture, how to anticipate a collapse before it’s too late.

And everything about you screams collapse.

He saw it in your posture, more tense than before. In your breathing, shorter. In your hands, trembling ever so slightly, a movement so subtle that no one else would notice.

But he sees everything.

He has been watching you, silently. He knows that look, the look of someone refusing to admit they are pushing past their own limits. He has seen it too often in himself, in his brothers and sisters… but seeing it in you is unbearable.

That night, it’s the last straw.

He comes back late from a mission and, just as he expected, you’re still awake, hunched over a desk buried under paperwork. You don’t even lift your head when he enters.

"You’re home late," you remark absentmindedly, scribbling something on an urgent mission report.

He doesn’t answer.

He has stopped in front of your desk, observing you in silence. He doesn’t need words to understand.

He has watched you exhaust yourself day after day, the fatigue deepening under your eyes, the stiffness settling into your body. He has noted every little sign: the dark circles, the slight thinness of your fingers, the way your shoulders tense under stress.

You want to be perfect.

You want everything to be under control, every task carried out with impeccable precision. Because you refuse to be a burden. Because you refuse to let anyone doubt your worth.

He knows this obsession. He knows what it’s like to want to be infallible.

But he also knows what it costs.

He steps closer and gently takes hold of your wrist, stopping your frantic movements. When he lifts your chin with his other hand to lock eyes with you, his expression is filled with concern.

His skin is warm against yours.

"You’re trembling," he states.

You pull slightly against his grip, trying to free yourself. But he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t squeeze too hard, doesn’t try to restrain you—only to hold you there, to make you understand that he won’t let this slide.

"I’m fine," you breathe out.

A lie.

Again.

And he’s had enough of hearing them.

"Did you take the time to eat properly today?" he asks.

Your gaze wavers.

"How much sleep have you gotten this week?"

You finally pull away, barely concealing your frustration.

"Kata, I don’t have time to rest. I have to make sure everything runs smoothly. The family has already suffered enough losses, I can’t…"

"You can’t what?"

He interrupts you, his voice slightly sharper. He doesn’t need to raise his tone.

"You can’t show the slightest weakness? Do you think that’s what will prove you deserve your place here?"

You clench your teeth.

"I have to be up to the task. After the disaster of Pudding’s wedding, we have to prove that we are still reliable. You don’t understand…"

"Don’t talk to me as if I don’t know what it means to carry a burden."

Silence falls. He still doesn’t break eye contact.

Then, without warning, he moves around the desk and lifts you effortlessly, his movements fluid and controlled. A small gasp of surprise escapes you, but he doesn’t give you the chance to protest further.

"Kata! Put me down right now, I have work to do!"

"No. Not tonight!"

His tone is firm.

He doesn’t slow down as he carries you away from your desk.

With slow but determined steps, he crosses the room. Every muscle in his body seems tense, not with anger, but with unwavering resolve and he gently sets you down on the couch before disappearing into the adjacent room.

You hear faint sounds: the opening of a cupboard, the soft clinking of porcelain.

A few moments later, he returns. In one hand, a thick, warm blanket. In the other, a steaming cup of tea.

Without a word, he drapes the blanket over you. Then, he places the cup in your hands. The contact of the warm ceramic against your fingers sends a slight shiver through you. You want to protest, to argue that you don’t need this, that you have to get back to work. But the moment the warmth of the cup seeps into your hands, something inside you cracks.

An invisible tension you weren’t even aware of carrying begins to fade, little by little. Your back, usually rigid and straight, sinks slightly against the couch. You slowly lower your gaze to the cup.

And suddenly, everything clicks into place.

The Homies who always seem to know exactly what you need. The snacks that appear without you asking. The supplies, the reports, the documents that always seem to be within reach.

It wasn’t coincidence.

It wasn’t just the Homies diligently doing their jobs.

It was him.

Katakuri.

Since the very beginning, he had made sure you ate, even when you were too absorbed in your work to think about it. He had ensured you stayed hydrated, that your belongings remained in order, that nothing was missing.

He had anticipated your every need, orchestrating everything in the shadows, without ever expecting anything in return. Without even telling you.

You slowly lift your eyes to him.

He says nothing.

He stands there, tall and imposing, arms crossed, watching you with that unwavering, piercing gaze. But there is no reproach, no irritation in his expression.

Only patience. And determination.

"You lecture me when I skip a meal, when I don’t get enough sleep… But what about you? Who takes care of you?"

You lower your eyes, unable to respond.

Because he’s right.

He sighs again and settles next to you. Then, to your great surprise, he loosens the scarf covering his face and lets it fall onto his lap.

This simple gesture is a silent declaration of trust, a way to show you that you are important enough for him to lower this barrier. One that he never lets down in front of anyone.

Katakuri never shows his face.

Even in your presence, he always ensures he stays in the shadows. He doesn’t want you to see him too clearly. He doesn’t want to witness that flicker of fear or disgust he has seen far too many times in others’ eyes. Even though you have told him, again and again, that his face neither frightens nor repulses you.

But that’s not the kind of thing one believes easily after a lifetime of rejection.

So, he never responded.

He never told you that he believes you, that he accepts your words.

But to you, it isn’t necessary. He doesn’t need to say it. You have understood for a long time that his scarf is not just an accessory.

It is his wall.

His shield.

And yet, tonight, he lets it fall.

Not for just anyone.

For you.

Right now, in this moment, there are no negotiations, no reports to write, no alliances to manage. There is only him, you, and this bubble of quiet he is trying to offer you.

He gently removes the cup from your hands and sets it on the table beside you.

Then, without a word, he reaches for the blanket he gave you earlier and wraps it around both of you, pulling you close to ensure the warmth envelops you both.

You take a deep breath, and the familiar scent of Katakuri soothes you more than you’d like to admit.

Little by little, your resistance fades. Your body gives in to exhaustion, and you let yourself lean into him.

You fought sleep for a moment, your mind still reluctant to completely surrender, but one last glance at him was enough to make you understand.

You can finally let go in complete safety.

Katakuri will not leave.

He will watch over you.

As he always has, in silence, in the shadows, without ever asking for recognition.

Tag list : @jintaka-hane @novemberhope @imveryyellow @lxshoxk @fanaticsnail @daydreamer-in-training @pandora-writes-one-piece Feel free to let me know if you’d like to be added (or removed) from the tag list.

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I have the biggest dick in 40 square miles

just like big brother

speaking of one piece men i want to climb like a tree..

APPY SLICES

Bayverse turtles x fem reader

Turtle fluff, kinda petty jealousy, nothing sexual

Second Person, no Y/N.

Inspired by a pinterest post I saw about having an office turtle and the punch line was "does the big man want his appy slices?" and it just snowballed from there

Your first vacation in a year, and you were stuck with a house guest for part of it.

Well, sort of a house guest.

You stared at the blue, plastic kiddie pool taking up half of the living room, shoved between your TV and the L shaped desk you used as a work space. A sandy colored shell was moving slowly around as Romeo explored his temporary digs, the large tortoise taking everything in with long, slow blinks.

“Boy, does your mother owe me one,” You informed him lowly, shaking out tired arms that still ached from carrying the large cat carrier up the stairwell. “Though, I guess she should be worried you won’t wanna go home on Monday. After all,” you leaned down, watched as Romeo turned those large, multicolored eyes in your direction, “I seem to have a growing collection of turtles.”

He let out a loud huff, the air whistling through his nostrils, and you snorted. “Sorry, tortoise, though I’m pretty sure the rest are turtles.”

He turned back to ignoring you, making slow movement towards the heat lamp you had attached to the back of a stool and swung over a part of his pad.

You hummed, watching him, then glanced over at your phone when it dinged from the couch.

Orange Crush: Hey babycakes, we still good to come get you after patrol? Donnie got ahold of that movie you wanted to see.

Uh oh. You bit at your nail absently, thinking, then typed back:

You guys are welcome to stop by, but I might have put a snag in movie night. I’ve got a house guest I have no idea what to do with.

You hit send, waited a beat, then hit accept before it even rang, expecting Leo’s name.

“Everything good?”

You decided not to comment on the speed dial. “Yea, everything’s fine. I’ve just… got a house guest.”

A beat of silence, “are you in danger?”

You frowned, stared across the room at Romeo, then had a light bulb moment as you replayed what was said. “Oh, god, Leo, no I’m fine. This isn’t a ‘help, there’s someone in my apartment’ type of thing.”

“Well that’s good,” he breathed, and you could hear his dry humor creeping in, “Though you almost gave Raph a heart attack just now.”

“Spiders almost give Raph a heart attack,” you deadpanned back. “But seriously, I’m just babysitting a pet for a friend. Um… actually.” You squinted at the tortoise sunning himself. “Don’t- don’t be weird when you guys get here.”

A longer beat of silence. “O-kay.” The word was drawn out. “We’ll be over in ten.” He hung up before you could squawk about cutting their patrol short, and you was left holding the phone comically to your ear.

Romeo chose that moment to let out a questioning chirp, his beak opening and clicking shut, and you turned her attention back to him. “Hm? You hungry, big boy? Let me go get your food.”

You got Romeo his salad, watching with slight amusement as he once again slowly moved toward the plate of offerings next to his sunken water bowl, high pitched chirps coming from him as he started to eat.

A light tap at your window pulled your attention, and you crawled over the couch to unlock the window, letting Leo do the heavy lifting to actually get it open.

“Heeeyyy,” You said, smiling brightly, trying to block the view behind you while leaning against the frame.

Leo rolled his eyes, “hey yourself. You gonna let us in?”

You pursed your lips, looking over the four of them crammed onto the fire escape, Donnie half hanging off the railing as he avoided Raph’s shell. You held up a finger threateningly. “Don’t be weird.”

You heard Raph scoff as you moved to press against the couch cushions, letting them step in over the furniture. “‘Don’t be weird’ she says to the mutant turtles.”

“Uh.” Leo pulled up short, one foot still on the couch, letting Mikey bounce off his shell as he noticed the kiddie pool.

Romeo looked up from the salad, took in the towering turtles staring back, and let out a low grumble that somehow managed to thrum through the room.

“Wow. That’s impressive.” You popped up on the couch, leaned over the arm, watched as the four turtles spread out a little, all still watching the kiddie pool.

“Sheesh, that’s nothing, babycakes,” Mikey said over his shoulder as he backed to the side to perch on the couch next to you, baby blues fastened on the tortoise like he’d disappear if he blinked. “That little rumble ain’t got nothing on Raph in the morning.”

“Huh. Really?” You glanced at the red turtle, but he shrugged, moving towards the kitchen counter and the cans of soda you’d set out while waiting for them.

“It ain't nothin special, sweetheart. How long you watchin mr. grumpy pants?”

Leo still hadn’t moved from his spot half on the couch, and with a huff Donnie pushed past him, the only one to take a step closer to the kiddie pool and crouch down to get a closer look.

“I have Romeo until Monday morning.” You tried not to sound too intrigued with what was happening, or not happening, but you probably failed judging by the quick look Raph threw your way, slight smirk curling his mouth as he watched you peer between Romeo and Donnie.

The tortoise had one eye on Donnie and the other on Leo, his head swiveled to the side to keep them both in sight as the ominous grumble sounded once more.

“Oh, goodness.” Donnie chuckled, perched as close to the plastic lip as he could get without touching the tortoise’s turf.

Raph whistled, long and low, as the noise lowered deeper until it was a threatening burr. Romeo snapped his beak at the sudden noise from Raph.

“Ok. What’s happening?” You asked, looking from Mikey to Raph for answers.

Mikey winced, fingers drumming out a fast staccato on his bent knees, so you turned your question to Raph, who simply shrugged.

“Donnie,” you whined, and heard him hum in answer. “What’s with the weirdness?”

“Oh, well, I suppose we’re making him a little uncomfortable.” He supplied, twisting around to address you from over Leo’s hip. Romeo let out an angry hiss, and Donnie swayed back out of sight. “Oops.”

“Now you done it,” Raph joked. “Touched the big man’s pool.”

“So I should have coached him instead of you guys?” You smirked, the notion that the bigger turtles were all being trash talked by Romeo amusing.

“Eh, probably wouldn’t have changed much,” Donnie chirped back at you, pulling another threatening beak snap from Romeo.

Raph chuckled. “Careful, Don. He might think you’re after his girl.”

“Oh so now I’m part of the problem?” You put as much sarcasm into the query as you could, moving to sit up on the couch, swaying into Leo’s space.

“Sure.” Leo answered, finally moving his foot off the couch as you brushed against him. “Bunch of big ugly rivals come into his place, touch his home, chirp at his girl. I’d be pissed too.”

“Would you?” You tried not to sound too amused, hand coming up to press against your mouth at the uptick in Leo’s cheek even as his gaze was kept on the tortoise. “So is he gonna get even more cranky if I leave with his ‘rivals’?”

“I’m sure he’ll live,” Raph pushed away from the counter, snapped his fingers under Donnie’s glasses. “Genius, quit harassing the poor dude. He’s stuck in a pool, we get to go watch a movie with his girl. Don’t rub it in.”

“Pretty sure I’ve known you guys longer than him,” You kicked out at Raph playfully as he passed close, connecting with his thigh and making him sway to avoid the pressure. “Think that makes him the interloper.”

“Ah, ok, I see how it is, you’re our girl. You want us to avenge your honor, teach this creep a lesson?” He jerked his head toward Romeo, grabbing your foot with ease as you went to kick at him again. You let out a quick giggle, jerked your foot away from his grip, leaning towards Mikey for protection as Raph made a grab for your retreating foot again.

“Hey, it’s all good babycakes, I’ll hide you from your loverboy’s rival.” Mikey lifted his arm, flashing the charm as he let you wedge yourself between his shell and the couch, feet tucked in the cushions where the larger brother couldn’t reach.

“We better get going before we rile your house guest up even more,” Leo commented, ignoring the playful banter as he stepped sideways out of Raph’s way. “You have everything you need?”

You hummed, twitching further behind Mikey as you felt the youngest brother’s fingers reach back and ghost your far side. “My bag’s in my room. Obviously, I’m gonna have to come check on Romeo tomorrow, but I think he’ll be ok for the night.”

“Especially if he doesn’t have to deal with us,” Donnie added, straightening and stepping around the pool to head down the short hallway leading to your room.

“Oh, shoot, hold on. Can’t forget.” You popped out from behind Mikey, wildly grabbing onto Leo’s arm to steady yourself as you overcorrected on the couch cushion. His forearm tensed under your hand, giving you something steady to push off of as you headed for the counter.

As you turned around with an apple and a knife, Mikey gasped. “He gets appy slices?”

“Yup, every Friday.” You responded, not looking up as you carefully started cubing the fruit.

“He’s get a treat after being an ass?” Raph sounded incredulous, and you blinked, looking up finally to find all three staring at the apple in your hand.

You took in the various looks of envy and mild offense, and reached behind you for the bag with the rest of the apples. “Do… do you guys want some?”

Donnie rounded the corner at that moment, stopped so hard his shoe squeaked on the floor. “He gets appy slices?”

“O-kay.” You pulled the word out long and slow, conscious as they tracked you and the dish of apple cubes across the room to the kiddie pool. It had to be your imagination, but Romeo almost looked smug as he hurried over for the treat you set down.

Behind you, Raph made a noise of disgust deep in his throat, and you fought to keep the smile from your face as Mikey echoed the sentiment.

“I promise,” You rose and turned to face them, “I will bring the whole bag and make you guys as many appy slices as you want tonight.”

Raph took the few steps to the kitchen, grabbed the bag of apples, and crossed back over to the couch and window. His brow raised as though daring you to laugh as Mikey opened the glass and hopped out onto the fire escape.

You fought it successfully until Leo purposely bumped into you, a gentle reminder to get moving, and you followed Donnie out into the chilly air, careful as you pulled yourself over the edge of the window.

Donnie offered you a hand, grip cool and firm as he tugged you up the flight of stairs and passed you off to Raph, whose arms you curled into as he picked you up effortlessly.

“Where’s Fearless?” He asked, stepping up to glance back over the edge, and you gripped tighter as the buildings swelled down to meet the street.

Leo stuck his head out of your window as though summoned, taking a moment to close the latch before he scaled up to where the others were waiting. At Raph’s questioning look, he huffed, the lights catching briefly on his teeth.

“Just reminding Romeo down there that he’s only a house guest.”

You blinked, your face going loose with shock, “Leonardo, did you growl at that poor tortoise?”

The only answer you got was a smug smirk, and Mikey’s bright belt of laughter.

Much later, in the lair, you sat slumped in the middle of the couch, fingers sticky as you peeled yet another apple. You didn’t even bother to lean forward as you offered a slice over the edge. You weren’t sure how they knew it was there, the only light coming from the soft jewel tones of the older movie on the big screen, but the slice was always accepted, much larger fingers grazing your palm the only indication.

You smiled, and cut off another slice.

Much later, in the lair, you sat slumped in the middle of the couch, fingers sticky as you peeled yet another apple. You didn’t even bother to lean forward as you offered a slice over the edge. You weren’t sure how they knew it was there, the only light coming from the soft jewel tones of the older movie on the big screen, but the slice was always accepted, the much larger fingers grazing your palm the only indication.

You smiled, and cut off another slice.

Katakuri with his brother facial hair

Eso es todo

Bartolomeo reminds me of Prime Moria so much, I can't watch episodes without taking tons of screenshots

This one I just had to re-draw on top, because

Just look at this

I like the B team so much

Fem katakuri [drool]