Oh Benjamin, Do You?

Heyy, here are some of my TMNT doodles and studies from through out the year

Featuring cute Mayhem post rottmnt movie, @eternalglitch's LFLS au Leo, baby Casy, my rabbit yokai oc I guess, and tons of bayverse Turtle studies!

Teddy: Part 3

A/N: THANK YOU! The feedback I have received has been so unexpected and so appreciated! This was originally only going to be a one shot but it has grown into so much more. I hope you all enjoy and thank you for sticking around! Now, let's see what life has in store for good 'ol Raphie shall we? P.S: Slight NSFW is present towards the end

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Silence. 

The only sounds that one could hear was the bustling city below. The sound of a cat screech, a dog’s bark, car horns honking incessantly. The sounds of New York clattered about until they reached the rooftops where a fiery tension was burning.

Raphael stood stock still, his breathing rapid as his whole body tensed as he was processing the fact that 1. His brothers were here, 2. They know about Y/n and Jamie, 3. He was getting more and more pissed off by the second because he couldn’t read ol’ Fearless’s face. 

“So, uh, anybody gonna talk about it?” Mikey quipped, moving to stand between his two eldest brothers, arms outstretched as if he was physically grabbing the tight-rope of tension that spread across the rooftop. 

The silence continued. Michelangelo looked back and forth between his brothers while Donnie stood watch, hands draped lazily over the staff he leaned against. He was calculating the chances of his brothers making it off this roof without a fight…hypothesis: 0%. 

“So this is where you’ve been disappearing off to? Playing house with a human?” Leonardo sneered, his frustration rolled from his chest and rippled through the tense muscles of his forearms as they spread in annoyance. 

That wasn’t the right thing to say, thought Mikey, as Raphael moved a few steps closer to Leo.

“Yeah, what of it? You stalkin’ me now?” He growled as he was a foot away from Mikey’s outstretched hand which was the only thing separating him from Leo. Raphael could feel the bile rise in his throat. He understood why Leo was pissed, this wasn’t the first time he had done something that pissed his eldest brother off. 

“What the hell Raph! What happened to ‘we live in the shadows, completely unseen,’” Leo spoke evenly, stepping closer until his plastron was against Mikey’s hand. Mikey was in the ‘pain range,’ but he wasn’t going to allow his brothers to go until they talked this out. Standing his ground, Mikey’s head was on a swivel, gaging each of his brothers, waiting for the next move. Patiently waiting for the blow-up. 

“What about your brothers? Your Sensei? The fact that our entire existence is supposed to remain unknown! And what’s with the kid?” Leonardo exclaimed, he tried staying calm but every possible situation was playing through his head. There was too much unknown that left him uneasy. This wasn’t a game, they weren’t normal so why the hell did Raphael insist to be a part of a society that wouldn’t accept them? 

“You. Leave. Jamie, out of this.” The deep, guttural growl that left Raph’s chest and rumbled the entire roof. Mikey felt his brother’s anger ripple in his barreled chest and wasn’t sure what was going to happen next. Raphael’s chest bolstered, Fearless didn’t get it, probably never would with how far that stick is shoved up his ass. 

“Then what about that woman? You think that she’d ever truly accept you? You can’t —.” Leonard’s words drifted to the wayward side as they sunk in. Yeah, that hit a bit deep, Michelangelo worried that something was about to happen and by the way Leo keeps putting his foot in his mouth, it’ll happen sooner than later.

“What if she does, is that so bad? What if she makes me think there is more for us out there? Huh! That we can have a shot at normal. She’s my shot at normal and I ain’t wastin’ it!” Amber eyes narrowed as he knew that Leo wasn’t going to let this go but, dammit. Fuck him. 

“We’ll never be normal. You need to accept that, us, your brothers, and sensei are all you got. Are you willing to risk that over a woman you barely know?”

“I know Y/n enough—,”

“Oh yeah, for what? The six months you’ve known her?” 

“How’d ya—,” That stopped Raphael, how long have they known? His eyes jumped between each brother that stood before him. Donatello had a broken side smile before dropping his eyes. Of course Genius figured it out. His eyes continued, landing on his youngest brother who wore a nervous smile as his baby-blues switched between him and the ground. Lastly, his hot amber eyes landed back on his Leader, storm clouds and fire clashed in a rage. 

“Donnie’s known, for five months, Mikey for one and I just found out tonight. What. The. Hell. Raph! We are a TEAM and I am your leader. You should’ve told me.” 

“Oh what, like you’d understand? You wouldn’ta listened, you’d of pushed and pissed me off. Y/n means more to me than that bullshit.” Raph tossed his hand in the air in frustration before stalking back towards the edge of the roof, needing the distance. Peering down over the edge of the roof he saw Y/n’s legs with Jamie cuddling on the couch, wrapped in a mountain of blankets. 

“Raph, you’ve put us, that woman and her son in danger and you don’t seem to realize it.” Leonardo spoke, arms crossing his chest as he stood his ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as both Donatello and Michelangelo stepped back, giving Raphael a clear view and he knew he said the wrong thing. Leonardo felt guilty, knowing that each of his brothers understood their situation, but as the leader, he needed to make sure they’d never forget it. 

Yup, too far. Michelangelo stepped back, raising his hands in surrender as Raph spun to face the leader in blue. Both Donnie and Mikey took fighting stances from either side of the two brothers, ready to separate them if this was to escalate where it was no doubtably going to go. 

“Oh I get it, you’re jealous! Pissed that your hothead brotha’ found someone who’s willin’ to accept him as a friend—,” He was gaining on Leo. Tensions were high, each member atop that roof could feel it.

“There’s nothing platonic about you two and you know it.” The look that he gave Raphael confirmed that Leo had seen more than Raphael originally thought. Raphael blanched, eyes going wide, remembering how Y/n had been so close earlier but, with Leo bringing it back up, he knew right then and there that, yes, Y/n about kissed him. That thought alone sent a shiver through him. Would she want to try again? How long was Leo watching them tonight? With that, Raph stumbled, if he hadn’t known Leo was watching them, how could he be so certain that no one else had seen them? What if the Foot Clan or the Purple Dragons had seen? his heavy steps came to a halt as Leo’s words sunk in. Despite the current situation, Raphael couldn’t help the surge of hope burned through Raphael. At that moment, he wanted to jump from that roof and wrap Y/n in his arms and never let go. If Leo, of all people could see that there was possibly more going on between him and Y/n, then it must be true…Right? Leo gritted his teeth, thinking back to how Y/n and his brother almost kissed. He’d never admit it but…maybe he was jealous? Besides April and Casey, who else would be willing to accept them in this city? Leonardo thought back to how the police originally acted when they first saw them when they broke into police headquarters a few years ago. Then how Chief Vincent said that they should give the people of New York more credit after they received their keys to the city. Leo wouldn’t outwardly admit how much that sentence plagued his mind on a nightly basis. Through his years of training and meditation he had buried the idea of romantic love deep inside. He knew that from a young age that it would probably never happen. Of course, leave it to his hot headed brother to find a human in this large city who was willing to give them the time of day. Raphael had done it, he found the needle in the haystack. The unicorn in the City. 

As Raphael and Leo both became lost inside themselves, Donatello spoke, joining the conversation. 

“Just so we are clear, I would have informed Raph if there were any threats. I’ve set up security measures after Raph’s GPS kept frequenting this area.” Raphael looked over at his genius brother, he knew he shouldn’t be shocked but it was appreciated. 

Donatello completed another search with his tablet before locking eyes with Raph who nodded his head in thanks before looking at Leo. Donnie gulped, but Leo should have known and trusted that his brothers would make the right decision when it mattered. 

The tensions on the roof seemed to ease as another brief silence blanketed the rooftop. Michelangelo was the first to break the ice again and the brothers fell into questioning the red-banded brother. 

——

“Is Raphie coming back?” Jamie yawned, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes, peering up at Y/n. Rubbing his head, Y/n contemplated on how to answer him, she wasn’t sure if Raph would be back. He mentioned something about his brothers then leapt off the balcony before she could ask. 

“Maybe not tonight, it’s late…but would you like to see him again?” 

“Uh-huh, I like him! Do you like him, mommy?” 

“Yes, very much.” Hearing him say that brought a huge smile to her face as he snuggled deeper into her arms. I really, really like him. There was zero doubt in her heart about her feelings for him. The way that he’s treated her and how him and Jamie gravitated towards each other and hit it off almost instantly. It was heartwarming and any doubts that she originally had disappeared, leaving love and longing in its wake.  

Jamie agreed with another nod before tired eyes drifted closed. It was nearing three in the morning and he needed to get back to bed. Waiting for a few more minutes until his soft gentle breathing filled the small space. Y/n chuckled to herself before she shifted to stand, gathering the bundle in her arms before making her way back to his room. Tucking him in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead she eased back out of his room, closing the door behind her with a soft click. Y/n made it back into the kitchen to clean up their hot chocolate mix when she heard a knock against the balcony door. Red. 

Walking over she watched him slide the door open before pushing through, the look on his face brought some concern. 

“Hey Red, what is it?” The look on his face brought concern into her voice, this wasn’t the end was it? His brothers wouldn’t make him stop seeing her right?…Right? Panic started to settle in while he shifted in front of her, not making eye contact. Y/n eased forward, before bringing her hand up against his chest, the other lifting to make him face her. 

“What is—,” all worry was erased from her mind when Raphael finally spoke. 

“My brotha’s, they wanna meet ya.” Oh, that’s not what I expected. This was her chance to convince them that she’d protect their brother in every way that she could. 

“Yes, of course when—,” 

Y/n didn’t get a chance to finish when Raph was pushed into the room and a blur of orange was in front of her. 

“Hey sweet cheeks! Names Michelangelo, chicks call me Mikey.” The bright smile on the smaller terrapin's face was contagious, causing a huge smile to break across her face.

“Hi Mikey, I’m Y/n,” she extended her hand and waited as he glanced at it for about two seconds before pulling her into a bone crushing hug. Y/n reciprocated as best as she could, her hands gripped his shell as she giggled for breath. 

“Let her go, Mike.” Y/n lifted her head to watch as blue and purple masked brothers entered into her apartment. These must be Leonardo and Donatello. 

“She needs air,” the purple one, Donatello right? Said before he gently pushed against Mikey’s arm as a physical indicator to let her go. As soon as his arms left, she was surrounded by four, very large, massive, turtles. Each had their own colored mask, weapons, padding and wraps covering them from head to toe. 

Magnificent. 

Y/n couldn’t believe that this was her life now, it was all so new but she couldn’t be more excited for this new chapter of her life. 

Raphael moved to stand behind her right shoulder, motioning towards the two newest members through her balcony door. 

“Uh, this is—.” Raphael scratched the back of his neck as he motioned towards his brothers that now stood in her living room. 

“Leonardo. Ma’am.” Leonardo stated, arms braced against his legs as he bent into a low bow. 

“Hello Leonardo, it’s nice to meet you.” Y/n wanted to remain open minded but she couldn’t help the caution in her voice. She knew that Leo was the leader of their group but also understood that he and Raphael seemed to rarely see eye to eye. So this was the leader of their brothers…yeah, it makes sense.

“Donatello, brothers call me Donnie.” Donatello gave her a soft nod before going back to fidget with the device attached to his arm. Ah, the genius of the group, according to Raphael. The purple terrapin lived up to the name as he fiddled with a tablet strapped to his arm and was covered in different wires and gadgets. 

“It’s nice to meet you all.” Y/n wasn’t sure how to feel but glancing back at Raph, he smirked down at her before gripping her hip. She felt her breath catch in her throat, and a surge of heat spread from her hip and worked its way lower. Her body was tense, not from fright but something more along what her favorite author would classify as a burning desire. She tore her eyes from Red before her mind drifted too deep for her to be able to look in his brother's eyes…What now?

“Um, can I get you guys anything to drink?” Y/n looked between all of them, her eyes landing on Mikey as he was all but vibrating with excitement. 

“Yeah! Watcha’ got?” Mikey moved and squeezed around his brothers before walking towards the kitchen. She watched him as he eyed the empty Pizza boxes and commented something along the lines of ‘not fair dude.’ Y/n was seriously considering that she may have underestimated their collective love for pizza. Both Donnie and Leo had followed Mikey into the kitchen, giving Raphael and her a little privacy. Though she doubted it was all that private, her back was to them but she could feel their eyes.

“Hey, where'd the squirt go?” Raphael’s whisper sent an onslaught of tantalizing shivers through her body, the grip on her waist tightened. Turning into his form, her hand landed, rubbing the textured flesh along his cheek. 

“Tucked in bed, it’s three in the morning,” Y/n giggled, twisting out of his grip to meet his brothers in the kitchen. Raphael watched as she walked away, a small smile on his face that went unnoticed by Y/n but not his brothers. He locked eyes with Mikey, a mischievous wink and shit eating grin adorned his baby bro’s face as Y/n stood in front of him. Little shit.

For the next hour conversations were filled with how Y/n and Raph originally met, how long they’ve known each other and how much pizza was a huge part of their (Mikey’s) life. Conversation was easy and Y/n felt so at ease, even when Mikey asked about Jamie. Y/n told them how she came to be with Jamie, how despite everything, she never regretted becoming a mom. The night continued before Y/n let out an unsuspecting yawn, quickly covering her mouth and eliciting an apology.

“Hah, I’m sorry,” but she wasn’t able to get the full word out as another yawn pushed its way past her lips. Small tears stung the corners of her eyes as she wiped them away with the sleeves of her hoodie. 

“No, we are, it’s gotten late and we need to head back.” Leonardo spoke, standing from the island and depositing his drink cup in the sink. The rest of the group stood, cleaning up the snacks and drinks that were scrounged around for the past hour. Mikey grumbled about not wanting to leave to which Leo and Donnie both said their peace, ushering Mikey back into the living room. It has been awhile since Y/n has stayed up and entertained this late. Usually she’d come home, eat dinner, kiss Jamie goodnight then pass out before it started all over again. Y/n has been awake and moving for about sixteen hours and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t exhausted. Tonight has been more than she was expecting and she honestly didn’t want it to end. Having Raphael come over which unintentionally led to him meeting Jamie and then meeting his brothers in return, it's been eventful to say the least. Y/n hoped that she’d get to know Raphael and his brothers more, maybe in the next few days considering she was now on vacation. 

“Hopefully we can get together soon and do this again?” Y/n asked, patting Mikey on the arm in reassurance before stretching her aching body. Raphael never left her side the entire night, he waited on her and rubbed slow circles along her thigh or lower back. He’s never been this touchy before but it reassured her and re-established her hope that he felt the same way she did.

“Yo Raph! You should bring her by to meet dad!” Mikey said excitedly, Y/n amazed with how much energy he still had despite it being past four in the morning. 

“Shut up knuckle-head,” Raph groaned before pushing his youngest brother towards the balcony door. Mikey and Donnie were the first two out the door waving Y/n good bye before disappearing back towards the rooftop. Leonardo was left, along with Raphael who hadn’t strayed more than three feet from her.

“Raphael…may I talk to you?” Leonardo’s voice didn’t sound like he was necessarily asking, more like commanding Raphael’s corporation. Raph’s hand lifted from her back, looking her way as if silently asking for some privacy to which she smiled and turned, giving them space. Once back in the kitchen, she tried to busy herself physically, by doing the dishes but, mentally, she was playing out any and all possible reasons why Leo wanted to talk to his brother. She didn’t think that he’d make Raph stop seeing her after spending the last hour together…right? Her brain became mush as her body started too slow, as if shutting down from the lack of sleep. But, that’s what vacation was for right? Recuperation?

“Y/n,” Leo’s voice was heard from the living room. Y/n turned, throwing the towel over her shoulder before heading back towards her balcony door.

“Thank you again, for the unsuspected visit,” she nodded while playing with the frayed ends of the towel, “we all appreciate your hospitality.” He bowed again, tossing a look towards his brother before disappearing back into the night. They were finally alone. Before Y/n could voice her thoughts Raphael had turned, wrapping her in a tight hug. This hug was different than the ones they’ve shared before, different then the one Mikey had her in earlier. This one…felt like home. Y/n was quick to reciprocate, wrapping her arms around him to the best of her ability, tracing the scutes of his shell.

The small movements elicited a series of small groans from him before she felt him push away from her, his large hands gripping her hips as he nuzzled her hairline. The silence was comforting but if she stayed like this much longer, she’d probably fall asleep while standing up. Her eyes closed, melting into the embrace but the sound of his breathing becoming shallow shook something deep within her. E/C eyes widened as they met the deep, caramel, ambers of the large man in front of her. Oh my…Y/n heart began to flutter uncontrollably, the look in his eyes set her ablaze. Without her even realizing it, her arms and hands moved on their own.Leaving their perch on his shell, they traveled back to his chest without ever leaving his skin. Once her contact shifted to his plastron he knew they were nearing the line they, about, broke earlier. Despite this night not going how it was originally planned, he honestly couldn’t have asked for a better turn out. It was as if a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders and he even got approval from Leo, not that he needed it…but he knew that in a way, he did need it. Now, he could spend time with Y/n without being so secretive. Though right now, this entire night, he wanted nothing more than to be alone with her. 

Her lids heavy but they refused too close as she watched his tongue flick from behind his lips to trace along his bottom lip. Her hands made their way up his body, feeling along all the grooves, dents and scratches that littered his chest until they gripped the lip where his sensitive flesh met his plastron. I wonder if she can feel what she’s doing to me. He felt his breath and heart rate pick up again when her big eyes looked up at him. She looked so small standing against his body, his large hands engulfed her sides. Their differences were evident but they complimented each other just the same. Raphael was hunched over, rubbing small circles into her hips as he brushed his snout against her hairline again. She bit her lip, swallowing back the small moan that almost escaped. Suddenly her hip felt numb as his fingers left only to place his thumb along her bottom lip, pulling it from her teeth. She knew her face and neck were flushed as her breathing quickened. She needed more, they were so close and she didn’t want to wait any longer. She decided to make her move, hands following their own path until cradling his cheeks, pushing up on her toes, his hand dropped to brace back against her hips before her lips brushed against his. Adjusting with a small chuckle he leaned towards her again. His lips softer than she could have ever dreamed as they met for one kiss, then a second, then a third. One right after the other. Simple brushing of lips started to linger, hesitant tongues teased and before they knew it, they were lost in it. Each greedy push and pull of lips and tongues tasted sweeter as they strived to satiate the other. 

Raphael’s body was on fire, his mind was melting. This is happening, this is real. She’s real. She’s everything. He was quickly getting lost in her, her scent, her body, the tiny noises she was making as she clutched to him. His large hands moved on their own, lifting from drawing circles over hips to touching every expanse of her clothed back. Gripping the baggy fabric of her hoodie until he could feel the soft skin beneath. The second his hold brought her closer, a breathy sound escaped past her lips and Raphael growled. Her scent intensified, he couldn’t place it but she only smelled like that a few times and he didn’t understand why, just chalked it up to ‘that time of the month’ according to April. But this scent, this was different and until now, he didn’t understand it but now, Fuck, he definitely understood now. He needed her closer. Now. 

Oh my fucking god! Y/n’ mind was reeling, yes, oh yes! This was better than she ever imagined. She has dreamed of kissing this man for months now and there was no going back. His lips kissed open each mentally locked door in her head. She could never go back to being ‘just friends,’ now that she has had a taste. She expected them to be slightly rough, more scale-like but they weren’t. They were everything but. Soft, so soft and warm. Y/n couldn’t stop the urge of easing her tongue to trace the crease of his lips to take them further. What she wouldn’t do to hear his breath hitch like that again, over and over again. She was quickly melting into him, wanting to burn alive in his arms. The feel of his strong arms circled around her, large hands gripping as if she was what he needed to breathe, she couldn’t handle it. She needed to feel him, skin on skin to ease the burning. They dove deeper, breaking the surface one last time before plunging back in. She was barely aware that her sweatshirt was being shifted up until she felt his fingertips trace along the dip of her lower back, just above her ass. Oh hell, was the last thought as her brain became mush as those same fingertips traced up, lifting the sweatshirt in the process. Their lips broke, her hands dropped from digging into his shoulders to grip the edge ribbing of her hoodie.

Their eyes locked, his burning eyes widened as he watched her lift the hoodie higher and higher, until she disappeared beneath. The action alone left him unable to tear his eyes away from the way her arms extended above her head, her breasts displayed in a way that he swore he just died and crossed over. They looked so soft and round hidden behind the red fabric. He wanted to reach out, caress the curve of her breast, tease over the hardened nipple but his nerves started to fray. As soon as the hoodie was up and over her head she locked her eyes on his face. His eyes, dark and wanting, were watching the way her tits jiggled as the sweatshirt was flung back onto the couch. She stood before him in a red cotton tank-top and he felt his dick twitch, his shorts becoming tight. This was moving quicker than either of them had anticipated. Y/n wasn’t about to back down, not until she’s had her fill and by the way he was looking at her right now, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. No man in her life had ever looked at her like this, making her feel safe, sexy and confident. Y/n felt a heat pool between her legs by the look of hunger in his deep honey eyes. The throbbing pressure and burning heat was becoming too much for both of them. The removal of the hoodie, though done in the heat of the moment, seemed to break their lustful concentration. Reality was pushing back in and neither one knew what to do next. Y/n’s breath was coming in hot puffs as Raphael stood to his full height, catching his breath and thinking of anything but the woman in front of him to hopefully deter the growing nuisance. Y/n wanted this, whatever this was between them, evident that it was more than just friendship. He has stolen the spotlight for all of her dark fantasies. No longer did she imagine the stereotypical men from every romance novel ever written, instead, she dreamed of him. His tight muscles, piercing eyes, strong hands that would travel all over her wanting body before diving into her core. The way she envisioned him being an intimate lover yet there was a hint of a beast within that she believed could utterly wreck her and she wouldn’t mind in the damn slightest. Images of him above her, breathing heavy as his lips trailed over hers, down her throat to latch onto her shoulder as he’d drive into her was sending jolts of pleasure straight to her soaked core. Her pool of need is getting slicker against her legging covered thighs. Her thighs involuntarily flexed, pounds of flesh pressing together to rub out some relief hoping he wouldn’t notice her slight movement. But he had noticed. His eyes hadn’t missed a thing. Her clouded eyes, bruised lips, blush that flushed from her cheeks and traveled down, disappearing beneath the curve of her top. He wondered how far it went, what he wouldn’t do to find out. Her scent increased as he watched her luscious thighs press into each other and her breathing hitched. Oh fuck, she’s going to be the death of me. 

Y/n’s mind was racing, both still trying to catch their breath but she was feeling torn. Her angel side said that she should talk this out, confirm what she hoped and end this night on a high note. But the little devil on right was telling her to say ‘fuck it,’ and to ravish this man until both their legs were jelly and they couldn’t walk straight. Both were tempting, one seemed more logical, she didn’t want to scare him away with how much she felt for him. While the latter option pulled at her heart strings, her desire burned the longer she stood looking at him. Shaking her thoughts away, her weight shifted as she tried to regulate her breathing, following the woodgrain in her floorboards. Her eyes kept making the journey until they stopped, meeting the being in front of her. Her eyes began to travel back up his massive, unique body. Once again finding herself swimming in the valleys of his mapped out skin. Each scar and scale, a landmark that she bookmarked for later exploration. 

In their silence, his eyes never left her body. He was gaining control over his mind and body the longer they stood, only a foot between them. He could still smell her arousal and he was struggling on what to do next. He wasn’t good with words but knew that they needed to figure out what he hoped to God they were while his other, darker, more carnal side wanted nothing more than to ravish her on every available surface. He wanted her to spend her vacation completely relaxed while he took care of her in every sense. Every physical, mental and emotional sense. He’s already admitted that he was too far gone, might as well drown in his decision at this point. He knew one thing was for sure, he could never go back to just being her friend. Not after having a taste of those luscious lips and experiencing that intoxicating aroma of her want of him. All for him. If it was possible, he was sure his heart would have burst from his chest with all the things he was feeling. It was all so much, yet all so right. As his mind was becoming clearer by the second, he needed to hear her say it, say something. Confirm or deny his hopes of what could be. 

“Y/n,” her head whipped up from the floor to meet his eyes as he closed the space between them again. Chest to chest they stood, he was so much taller than her and his stature made her feel physically safe. While the look in his eyes comforted her, giving her the sense that she could also be mentally safe with him. 

“Yes Red,” she teased, lifting her hand to grip his elbow, her small thumb tracing the crease of his elbow. Power, that’s what he exuded, absolute power and strength but the way he held her, she sensed love. Love. 

“I, uh…we should,” Raphael started to rub the pad of this thumb along the exposed flesh of her hip. He wasn’t sure if she would want the contact but he wanted to brace himself and get one last touch in before she pushed him away. Fear and doubt soaked into his bones, he pressed his thumb into her skin deeper, committing the feel of it to memory. Accepting that if this was all she was willing to give him, he’d take it with a smile. His inner turmoil was kicked to the wayside as he heard her ask a question. 

“What do you want Raphael?” Y/n couldn’t stop herself from asking, she craved to know what was going on in that handsome head of his. 

“You. I want you.” He surprised himself by how he didn’t hesitate to say it. Every word was true, he wanted her, in any way she’d let him. He’d protect her and love her for the rest of his life if she allowed it. He’d do anything for her and for Jamie. There was no question and he made sure that all of his brothers understood that just over an hour ago. 

“Then have me. I’m all yours, Raphael.” Y/n couldn’t believe that she spoke with such confidence but the way he told her and the way he looked at her, there was no question.

Hearing those words, his full name, sends an unknown feeling straight through him. His heart constricted then burst, beating faster than before. He couldn’t stop it, he rushed her, wrapping his hands around the back of her thighs before lifting, she wrapped her legs around his waist as if on instinct. A surge of giggles erupted as her arms wrapped around his neck before throwing her head back as he spun them in circles. After a few turns he gathered her back in his secure arms, one hand pressed into her back while the other gripped the back of her neck. 

“C’mere Red,” you don’t gotta ask me twice. The sound of her voice changed, going deeper as she pulled closer to him, sealing their lips back together. Her entire weight was suspended in his arms, there was no need for her to brace against him with her arms. She used that to her advantage. Her knees tightened, pinning him in between her spread thighs as her body lifted, gaining the upper hand to be hoisted above him. As her weight shifted, he had to lift his chin, chasing her lips with his own as he felt indents of her nails dig into his trap muscle. Their lips clashed, heavier and hotter than before, their desire heightened at their verbal commitment to one another. He felt her hand grip the back of his head, bunching his mask in her tight grasp before pulling down, causing the fabric to shift across his face. The next instant took him by surprise as she had untied and removed his mask entirely. His eyes widened in fear as he looked up at her, his grip tightened high on her thighs, just along the edge of her ass. 

“There you are handsome,” he felt like his breath was kicked from him as he tasted those words from her lips. What the hell did I do to earn you? Y/n watched as his eyes softened before sharpening again, the languid scar across his top lip lifted before displaying a mischievous smirk. Oh no was her initial thought as the glint in his eye seemed to burn brighter. Before she knew it, he had her pressed against her balcony door.  

So much was said, not with words but in their actions. They understood where to pull, how to push, falling deeper into each other. Breath became hotter, touches braver and hearts stronger, the only question was, how far were they willing to let this go?

Part 2:

I combed through Season 1 and picked out various clips that I thought were interesting/humerous. Enjoy 8 whole minutes of Warden’s voice

Click here for more TMNT Photoshop creations … 😉

Arms Tonite but you’re lying in front of a fire with your partners, cosy while it rains outside  Part 1 of Holiday Exchange for @onyxior

@nickelodeon

To the network whose sole existence relies on two shows that are overmilked like dead cows

Who “postponed” Glitch Techs until Netflix came along

Who are getting Rise of the TMNT Harvey-Beaked.

THIS IS EXACTLY WHY YOU NO LONGER COMPARE TO DISNEY OR CARTOON NETWORK.

ROTTMNT COULD HAVE SAVED YOU. BUT YOU JUST KEEP BURYING YOURSELVES FURTHER IN A HOLE.

Fix your mistakes or sell yourselves to a company that can do it better. 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

“Yeah. They’re my friends. Tell him.“

Banda ya no me gusta el rusmex….Aaaah se crean carnalitos equisde equisde que chistochita soi Así que más de mi desmadre de los babys eh? Pues al parecer si uwu

Sorrows and Partings

TW: A bit of suicide ideation, like a tad bit but is not expressed further than one statement

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: this is part of the cut up chapter posted previously!!

Twisting the doorknob, the soft glow of your lamp fills the room, and you sit in bed, curled up against the bed frame. He hadn’t noticed it before, but your room is a mess, clothes strewn about, knickknacks and figures collecting dust, and books layered above each other in a tower of spines. 

“You stayed,” you say in a soft voice that if not for the night, he would have never heard your words.

“Of course, I did.” 

You smile sadly as the confession. Scooting over on the bed, you pat the space beside you. 

Even with the mess, your bedroom is as he still remembers it. It’s cluttered with your things, pictures are placed on the wall- pictures for your friends and family, posters of your favorite films, candles stacked and strewn on flat surfaces. And on your nightstand, is a picture of him and you, pressed close together as his arm is stretched out, and he remembers the day. He remembers the warmth of the sun, the soft press of your lips against him, the way that you had sugar on your tongue and the way that he became addicted to it in a matter of seconds. 

He steps on the soft rug on the floor, and taking your invitation, he sits on the bed. It’s soft, and the blanket that touches his thigh, still tickles the way it used to. Your hands flutter over his, and they grasp onto his wrist. You tell him to make himself comfortable, and as if it were like the first time that he was in your room, you stay still, trying not to think about how you tug on him, how your hands are much softer now, how he can recall what it was like to lay on your bed. 

He turns and twists, and he lays on your bed, and you’ve let go of his wrist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just grab you. But you just sitting there seemed like an uncomfortable way to have a conversation.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” He’ll take a chance, just to have you touch him again, to feel your touch, to know that you’re real and he’s in your room and not shivering in his bed, thinking of what ifs. “You can touch me if you’d like.”

As if he were made of porcelain, you grab his hand in both of yours, lifting the mass and watching as his fingers tremble from being touched. Holding his hand in yours, you turn it around, examining it as if it were anything more than a hand. You circle your thumb and index over his wrist, trying to pinch your fingers close together but giving up quickly. You turn his hand over, palm face upwards and you trace over nothing, your index curving around a spot. There is nothing to trace, and yet, you continue to ghost your finger over his hand in a touch so soft that if he weren’t paying attention, he wouldn’t have noticed it. 

“Your skin feels different,” you mumble.

“What does it feel like?” You press your thumb over the swell of his palm, right under the ends of his fingers. 

Humming, you massage and pinch at his skin. “Rubber, I think? Wait, no.” Your mouth pulls into a thin line. Your eyes drag down, heavy with sleep, but you stay determined to stay awake. “Latex?” Turning to him, you give an apologetic smile. “I’m bad at recalling textures.”

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“I miss your freckles.” You ignore his question.

If he could frown, he would. Actually, he’s sure that the spot on his face emotes; maybe it could emote frustration. “I still have my freckles. Technically.” With his free hand, he points to a small cluster of spots that float near his collarbone, right under where the bone would protrude. “Some of the spots move, but there are some that usually remain stationary.”

Nodding, you keep your focus on his hand. “You said it's- your white- that it’s all skin?” He makes a noise of confirmation. “So you’re like naked, right now?” His spots pulse in a moment of surprise, and you drop his hand. “Oh! Sorry.” You look at him sheepishly, and he hopes that you grab his hand again. “I just- You’re like gallivanting all over New York- naked.” There’s a smile teasing its way, and he straightens him, trying to keep what little resolve he has left.

“I wear clothes!” He says defensively. 

“Like what?” You lean back against the bed frame, and give him a teasing smile.

“Like jackets and- and hats.” You roll your eyes, and pull the blanket closer to you. Your hands have found their new home in a blanket. “I don’t have a lot of options now- things stretched out.”

He’s gained your attention again. “No pants?”

“Well- it’s not like I have to,” he says in an almost squeaking voice. You crane your head, and he’s covering his crotch with both hands. Your name is yelped, and there’s a phantom of what the two of you used to be laced into your name. 

“What?” You say through a laugh. “I’ve seen you before, remember? Plus, you're literally like you know-” you skirt around saying the word, and he can’t stop looking at you- “on my bed. And-” your hands pat on the blanket and they flat- “you walk around without pants!”

“It’s different! That’s different!” 

“I’d argue that it isn’t.” Your legs shirt under the blanket. You take another glance. “Not even boxers?”

“It’s not necessary,” he mumbles, and he can’t stop looking at you. He won’t stop. “Most people think I’m wearing something anyways,” he confesses in a quiet voice. “Most of my clothes don’t fit now. The sleeves bunch up-” he stretches an arm and his hand circles around his forearm where the jackets usually begin to bunch- “and really, if I just hide my face, most people think I’m some eccentrically dressed man.”

“You always did wear bright clothing.” You lay on your side, your arms bent to cushion your head more than the pillow ever could. 

“I did not,” he pouts.

“Yeah, you did.” You try to sink yourself deeper into the bed. “You had that one button-up. It was um, it was bright blue with like white shapes all over it. Or- Or your orange one! With the design on it.” Your grin is growing, and he can’t help but be captivated by you. You laugh, and it’s the sweetest sound that he’s ever heard in his life, sweeter than honey, sweeter than anything he’s ever had. “I’m sure the pants are something close to what you owned,” you say in a whisper. “Somehow, you always did make those clothes work.” You look to where his eyes should be and as if you could, he feels himself being peeled away, layers taken apart until you stare at him- just at him.

A part of him wished he left your apartment when he had the chance.

“Why did you want me to stay?” He asks, voice tight and full of want.

“I already told you.” You look ashamed. “I miss you.”

He should have left. He should have closed this chapter in his life. “I miss you too.” He can’t stand it. He hates how you look at him. Look away. Look away from him. He wants you to look away from him.

As if hearing his prayer, your gaze shifts elsewhere and he needs it back. “I’m sorry Johnathan,” you say his name with tenderness that he hasn’t heard in a long time. Your words kiss his skin and leave him aflame. “What I did to you, you didn't deserve that. I wish I could tell you that I was young and dumb, but we both know that would be a lie.” You don’t look at him again. “I asked you to stay for my own selfish desire. I thought that if I could give you a meal and let you lie on my bed, that it would somehow make up for all the bad that I’ve done to you.” You look at him, and he can’t look at you when you’ve said something so true. “A cold sandwich and a cold bed would never repair what I’ve done to you.”

He should tell you something mean- something sharp and unforgiving, something that would make you feel the way that he had that night and all the nights and days that followed. When he looks at you, and sees the bags under your eyes and the way that you look so small lying down- he can’t say anything of the sort. His words don’t form, and they aren’t tangible thoughts that he could at least grasp and stutter out, they’re simply gone. Malice and greed is absent, and he wants to cling to you. He wants to hide himself in your arms and in the soft spot where your neck and shoulder meet. 

“You really miss me?” He asks in a scared voice, one that cracks and exposes all of his hopes and fears.

“Every day,” you reply earnestly, finally looking at him again. “I know I shouldn’t. But I do.”

Unbeknownst to him, he’s found his hand in yours. “How can you stand to look at me?”

“Exposure therapy. I thought that if I could stand spots and holes-” you pull a grimace as if even the word is too much and if the word is too much, then he must be plentiful and he must be cast away and you must be thinking of someone else. “Small clusters kinda fuck me over, but bigger ones don’t as much anymore.”

“I shouldn’t have dropped by that night.” He wishes he hadn’t, that way, maybe in death you could still care for him and mourn him. “I knew about your phobia and I still came by.”

“You wanted comfort.” Your voice cracks and the tips of your cheeks flush. “You needed me. That isn’t something you have to apologize for Johnathan.” Tears water at your eyes and you cling to his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“I meant what I said.” You knit your brows. “I meant it when I said that if you took me back, we could forget about all that was said. We could start fresh.”

By the look in your eyes, he knows he said the wrong thing. “That wouldn’t be fair to you Johnathan.” Your words are muffled by the skin on your arm, and he can hear it clearly, every word is drenched in pity. 

He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t care. Not when I’d have you.”

“You could do so much better.”

“No,” he corrects. “No, I couldn’t.”

“I don’t deserve that type of grace, Johnny.” Your arms tense, and he wonders if you really do miss him. “If we went back to how it was before, I’d still know. I’d still hate myself, and I wouldn’t see you, I’d see me.” Your eyes shine with tears. 

“I could never hate you,” he tells you with sincerity dripped onto his words. “I tried-” you blink and a tear tracks down- “but I couldn’t. I had so many things that I wanted to tell you- that I hoped I could tell you, but I could never even form the sentence.”

“Can you try?”

“What?”

“Can you try to tell me what you would have wanted to tell me?” You lift yourself up by your forearms, and push yourself close to him, He can smell the cream on you- something sweet and soft. “You can think of it like payback,” you mutter, your hand reaching to grab his.

“I can’t.” he shakes his head, and closes his hand around yours. “I could never tell you what I felt or what I thought. It wasn’t anything bad- it was just-” he sighs and keeps his gaze on your hands- “disappointment? Shock?”

“Why did you stay Johnathan?” He doesn’t answer you, nor does he even make a noise to show that he heard you. “Johnathan?” He squeezes your hand in response. “You asked why I had asked you to stay. Why did you?” Your head tilts and you lower yourself to come into his view, and he can’t look away- not this time. “How can you still hold my hand after what I’ve done to you?”

“Because I wanted to,” he tells you with his words wavering as if they’re about to crash. “I knew that you were the one that I wanted. That hasn’t changed at all.” Tears curve down the side of your face, and drip down your chin. “I’ll always want you.” He lifts his head upwards,  and you sit with him, your hand gripping onto him as if the slightest tremble would make him vanish. “Do you need a hug?”

Nodding your head, all he has to do is lift his arms and you’re clinging to him, body above his with your face hidden into the crook of his neck. With tightly wrapped arms, you cling to him like a child that clings to a stuffed animal after a bad dream, and he wonders just how much of this is a bad dream. Hearing you cry is certainly something that makes him want to hold onto you even tighter, to press you against his body despite the spots and holes that litter him. However, in the same shaky breaths that you take, you call his name, hushed and full of grief, the same grief that holds warmth and familiarity. 

He hopes that you don’t slip into one of his spots. “I would think about you at work,” he starts. “A lot. I’d have your picture set as my lock screen.” He wraps his arms, and you get comfortable above him, shifting and nuzzling onto his shoulder. “Sometimes, I couldn’t focus on work because I’d be too busy thinking about you. And I’d wonder if you missed me as much as I missed you.” Your hands lay flat against his back, and he wonders if by chance, you missed his spots. He runs his hand up and down your spine, making sure that he remembers how warm you are, and how your heart beats against his chest. “My coworkers always wanted to meet you, but I couldn’t let them. I couldn’t let you get near them. I was scared that maybe, you’d realize that I wasn’t all that you made me out to be, and that you’d leave me.”

Tears wet his skin, and the way that the droplet runs over the rim of a spot, has him unable to breathe. He dips his head, wanting to press a kiss against your crown. He’s forgotten that he no longer has lips, that any gentleness that he could have given you has been torn away. 

“I wanted you. I thought- I would think about how when the project was over, I’d leave. I’d give Fisk and Dr. Octavius my research and notes and I’d leave. And in a good life, in a happy ending, I would be able to. We’d move elsewhere, get a cat or maybe a snake. I’d get to sleep beside you every night and and I’d get to wake up to you every morning.”

“Your co-workers called me- one of them. They asked if I had seen anything strange.” You sniffle, and you pull away, and your hands only move to clasp onto his biceps.

“What did you tell them?”

“That I wasn’t sure what they meant.” A heavy hand of white contrasts against your skin, and he wipes away the tear that has fallen. “I asked what happened to you- played dumb and they bought it.”

“What did they say?”

You lean into his touch. “They hung up on me and they haven’t called again.”

“Has my family contacted you?” You shake your head. “Good. I never wanted you to meet them.” At your frown, he continues. “You deserve to be surrounded by good people. Not them.” Your nails dig into his back, and the same hands that traced over his veins and cradled him, are the same that drag down and make him bleed. “I knew about your phobia, and I still came to you. I thought to myself that out of everyone, you wouldn’t turn me away. It was silly, I know.”

“I’m sorry,” you croak out. “I’m so sorry.” All that you can do is repeat your apologies, whispered and broken, repeated like a prayer, and in every word, in every syllable, there is grief and regret, and it tastes bitter. You cling to him, and you apologize, like a child crying to their mother, apologetic over a broken vase, begging their mother to still love them even after all the wrongs that have been committed, and at the end of the day, the love is still there, but the vase is broken. “I wish that you met someone better than me.” 

He’s silent, and he looks at his hands, the same ones that run up and down your spine, and he wonders if you would hold his hand again. 

“Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I think about how you looked at me that night. And sometimes I wish that I had died that night. That I wasn’t-” his voice wavers and in a hushed whisper he continues- “this.” His hands clench over your shirt, balling up the fabric. “Then maybe you’d have a nice last image of me. And then maybe you’d still want me. I wonder what would have happened to me. If they would give me a funeral, or if they’d rip my body apart and never lay me to rest.” You only cling tighter to him. “When I can’t sleep, I think about what I would tell you. I would tell you that you were mean, and I would never have done that to you. And that as awful as you were that night-” he lets out a shaky breath- “I never stopped thinking about you. I wanted to stay right by your side. I would have done whatever it is that you had wanted me to- I would have hidden myself and only came out when you asked me to.” He hopes that you’ll cling to him just a bit longer, that you won’t pull away. “When I came by that night and found you crying in the living room, I wanted to hold you again; make whatever bad happened, disappear. But it was me. I was the bad thing that happened,” he whispers.

“It wasn’t you. Not entirely. It was me” His spots jolt. “It- It was the way that I treated you. How I still missed you, but that I didn’t have to because it wasn’t like you were gone.”

“Just my good looks.” There’s a hint of sarcasm buried into his words.

You laugh, and the hands lay flat on his back, cradling over his shoulder blades. “You’re still tall- I’d count that as a win.” Your breath is warm against him, and when you pull away, looking at him, there are tears in your eyes. “I wish that I told you that night to stay. I really wanted to, but it felt selfish to ask that of you. I couldn’t do that.”

“I wish you did,” he says without hesitation.

“I wish I did too.”

“When I grabbed my clothes, I uh- I took a shirt of yours. It’s creepy-” he turns his head and even if he is unsure if blood still runs through him and makes him human, he feels warm- “but I wasn’t thinking. I just- I’m sorry.” He bows his head and your hands slip away from his back, to cradle at his head.

“Johnathan,” you say quietly, “I’m literally sleeping in one of your shirts.”

“That’s different. That’s cute. You’re cute. I’m- Look at me. I stole something of yours. I just- I had to be reminded of something of yours. I needed you to keep me warm at night.”

“Can you stay tonight?” He leans closer, your hand cradling his face, moves to hold the back of his head. “I don’t think I can handle watching you leave right now.” He’s silent, unsure if he heard you correctly. “Please, Johnathan.”

“Ask me that again.”

You comply. “Can you stay the night, Johnathan.”

If he could, he’d kiss you. He’d carve himself a mouth, give himself jaws and teeth and lips, pick apart at his flesh and fashion his bones into canines and molars, just to give you one last kiss- tender and parting, just to show you that he really did care for you. He’d bleed himself out, let himself get torn apart if only he could kiss you. Even now, without lips and a tongue, the sugar still rests heavy, and the blood that you’ve spilled is overpowering and makes him unable to speak without threatening to give you his all, to have you look at him, and to forever look at him.

Your eyes stare into a black hole that will never stop looking at you, that will continue to take in all the light and capture it for itself. He’s selfish in staying, and you are terrible for asking him to stay. And in this room where the lamp casts a golden glow, and he holds you in his body, limbs entangle, words that tore apart skin and hands that rubbed over the wounds, there is no safer place that he would rather be. He’d stare at you every day, swallow you whole and take the poison that runs through your body and is seeped into your blood. 

He holds you in the orange glow, lets you hide yourself in his chest, and lets your body twist to not enter him. And he holds all of you, hoping that in the morning, he’ll remember the smell of your lotion, and the soft thumping of your heart under his thumb.