Hello! I was wondering if you could write fluff of 2012 Leo x male reader? If you don’t mind my personal hc of Leo being demiromantic…
Basically Mikey befriends a guy who skateboards and works in a convenience store. One day the turtle want something (maybe food or whatever) so Mikey suggests they swing by. Reader has an alternative style (metal) but is really sweet and empathetic. Leo thinks he’s cool, and over the course of a time, they become close. Then one day Leo just comes to the snap that- “oh shit I like guys and I like THIS guy.”
Maybe him crushing or how he feels or how he confesses and acts in the relationship! Sorry if the prompt too specific but this would be great if you don’t mind! :]
Okay I love Leo, he's been a childhood favorite from 2012 :')
Plus, the demiromantic HC was perfect<33
I hope this serves justice for him and the request, its adorable!
Leonardo didn’t notice it at first.
Honestly, how could he? The guy was Mikey’s new “totally rad” friend who worked the night shift at the corner store and skated better than Casey (which Casey vehemently denied). He had chipped black nail polish, a spiked wristband, a soft spot for abandoned cats, and played doom metal through his earbuds at criminal decibels.
Leo wrote him off as another of Mikey’s whirlwind social finds.
But then… the guy smiled.
Not at Leo, at first — at Mikey. The kind of smile that didn’t demand attention, it just had it. Open and easy, like someone who saw the world a little darker than most but still chose to meet it with warmth anyway.
That’s when Leo started… noticing.
It started simple. Leo would tag along when Mikey made his “snack runs” after patrol, insisting he just didn’t want Mikey to blow their cover. But he always found himself lingering when they talked. You asked Leo questions no one else did — not about ninja stuff, but about his sword, his name, his reading habits, his opinions on stoicism vs Zen. You listened when he answered.
You were surprisingly gentle for someone with a bullet belt and battle vest. And Leo found himself relaxing around you more than he expected. Enough that when he wasn’t on patrol, he caught himself thinking:
"Wonder if he’s working tonight."
Weeks passed. Conversations deepened. Jokes got easier. Leo felt the quiet rhythm of connection start to settle between you, like the steady drip of water in the lair’s meditation room. Nothing fast. Nothing forced.
Until one night — a particularly bad patrol, bruises blooming under his shell and exhaustion dragging at his limbs — he climbed up to the rooftop above your store. He didn’t even realize he was heading there until he saw the back door propped open, the familiar low hum of your portable speaker playing some moody instrumental.
You were restocking shelves. Hoodie tied around your waist. Hair a mess. Leo watched for a minute.
And it hit him.
Oh.
Oh shit.
“I like him.”
And not just like. It was deeper. Specific.
He didn’t feel that way often. Maybe never. Not with girls. Not with anyone. But this? This was a tectonic shift.
He wasn’t just fond of you. He wanted to know you. To protect that crooked smile. To sit next to you in silence and still feel understood.
It should’ve scared him. But… it didn’t. Not really.
It just made things more real.
It took him another month to say anything.
He trained too hard, meditated too long, avoided eye contact with you like it was a laser tripwire. But you, as always, were patient. You didn’t push. You just kept being you.
And eventually, that gave him the courage.
One night after your shift, you came up to the rooftop where he waited, legs dangling over the edge. You brought two sodas. Sat next to him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You okay?” you asked. “You’ve been quieter than usual.”
He turned the bottle in his hands. Avoided your eyes.
“I… I’m not great at this,” Leo admitted. “Saying how I feel.”
A pause. You didn’t interrupt. Just waited, like always.
“I didn’t think I could ever feel this way. Not about anyone, and definitely not… a guy,” he said. “But I do. About you.”
You blinked. Then smiled — not the surprised kind, but the soft kind. The kind that made Leo’s chest ache.
“Yeah,” you said. “I was starting to think you might.”
Leo exhaled. Shoulders loosened. The world felt a little less sharp.
Dating you wasn’t some fireworks-and-dramatics thing. It was quieter. Gentle. It was coffee after long patrols. Skate lessons at 2 AM. You making him playlists with soft guitar riffs instead of screaming vocals because you “knew he liked calm stuff.”
He wasn’t big on PDA, but he’d linger when your fingers brushed. Let his hand stay on yours longer than necessary. Sometimes, when it was just you two, he’d tuck his head on your shoulder during movie nights — not saying anything, just… breathing easier there.
And when you kissed for the first time?
It was on the rooftop. Again.
He’d been rambling about strategy. You interrupted him mid-sentence with a quiet, “Hey, Leo?”
Then you kissed him. Soft. Careful. Giving him every second to pull away. But he didn’t.
Because for the first time, being seen like that — wanted like that — didn’t make him anxious.
