seen from Taiwan
seen from Canada
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Yemen
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Estonia
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Japan
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Brazil
seen from Yemen
Tmnt Nation how are we feeling
I love hc where Raph takes super good care of his body like a temple, while Donnie is out there testing nuclear on a body that hasn't slept for a week.
Can't stand it
MDNI! Headcanons on how the Bay!turtles (separately) hatefuck.
This one's a doozy so strap in
Tags: Bay!tmnt x reader, fem reader, PIV, no protection, oral- f!receiving (Leo), size diff (Raph), creampies, overstim, mating press (Donnie), nasty smut, dw it ends well, atrocious punctuation, not proofread
So. First Father’s Day I decided to spend without my dad. And from Day 1 of being in this fandom, I have always admired everyone’s favorite rat dad. Imperfect though Master Splinter is, he always proves himself to be a savvy sensei and a supportive dad. I always admired that in the dude, and looked up to his character so much as a kid.
So today I thought long and hard, and found what I loved about Splinter. Here (along with my drawings) are my conclusions.
He is a listening ear, and a source of gentle support when he witnesses his sons struggling, even (especially) with obstacles they must ultimately face alone.
He learns and appreciates the intricacies of each of his boys’ personalities, and believes undoubtedly that they can succeed in whatever they put their mind to.
He finds ways to share in his sons’ joys, finding his own way to relate to them, and in turn they want to make him proud with what they achieve.
He acts fearless, even when he doesn’t feel it. His character, at the end of the day, is there to protect his sons, and do his best to teach them how to protect themselves one day.
Happy Father’s Day, to all those who celebrate.
Sweet thing
Bayverse Raphael x reader
// Hii yall I hope yall like it I’m trying a new pov style but I think I’ll go back to what I usually do ///
The lair is always filled with life.
That was one of the first things Y/N had learned about it when they started hanging around with the turtles.
The funny thing about them is that even when nothing was happening, something was always happening. Mikey was usually yelling over a video game, Donnie was muttering to himself while something sparked on his workspot, Leo was giving some kind of instruction that at least two of his brothers were ignoring, and Raphael was somewhere in the middle of it all pretending like he didn’t care while somehow caring the most.
But tonight, the noise felt far away.
Y/N sat on the lived makeshift couch near the edge of the main room, hands folded tightly in their lap, staring at the floor like it had done something interesting. The movie playing on the TV flickered across their face, but they weren’t watching it. They had barely laughed at Mikey’s jokes. They hadn’t teased Donnie when one of his gadgets made a sad little popping sound. They hadn’t even smiled when Raph grumbled at the screen and called one of the characters an idiot.
And Raph noticed.
Of course he noticed.
He always noticed more than people gave him credit for.
He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, red bandana tails resting over one shoulder, his sharp green eyes fixed on Y/N instead of the movie. To anyone else, he probably looked annoyed. That was his natural setting, honestly. Big, brooding, built like a brick wall, jaw set like he was ready to argue with the whole world.
But there was something different in his stare.
Concern.
Worried.
He watched the way Y/N’s shoulders stayed pulled inward, like they were trying to make themself smaller. He watched the way their smile came too late and disappeared too fast. He watched the way they kept tugging at the sleeves of their hoodie, fidgeting with the fabric like they needed something to hold onto.
That wasn’t them.
Not really.
Y/N usually brought a little warmth into the lair. Not loud like Mikey, not bossy like Leo, not restless like Donnie, and definitely not explosive like Raph. But steady. Soft. Familiar. The kind of presence that made the whole place feel less like a hidden sewer hideout and more like somewhere people could actually breathe.
Tonight, though, that warmth looked dimmed.
Raph didn’t like it.
Not one bit.
Across the room, Mikey tossed popcorn into the air and missed his mouth completely.
“Aw, c’mon!” Mikey groaned as the popcorn bounced off his plastron and onto the floor. “I had that.”
“You did not,” Donnie said without looking up.
“I spiritually had that.”
Leo sighed from his seat. “Please don’t start.”
Normally, Y/N would have laughed.
They didn’t.
Raph’s expression hardened.
A few minutes later, Y/N stood quietly from the couch.
“I’m gonna get some air,” they said, voice soft.
“In the sewer?” Mikey asked, turning around. “Bold choice, but I respect it.”
Y/N gave a small smile. “Just… a walk.”
Leo’s eyes flicked over them with quiet concern. “Want someone to go with you?”
“I’m okay.”
They said it too quickly.
Raph pushed off the wall before anyone else could answer.
“I’ll go.”
Y/N looked at him, surprised. “You don’t have to.”
“Didn’t ask if I had to.”
His tone was rough, but not unkind. That was Raph. He sounded like a threat even when he was trying to be gentle.
Y/N hesitated, then nodded.
They walked together through the tunnel leading away from the main room. For a while, neither of them said anything. The distant sounds of the movie and Mikey’s commentary faded behind them until all that remained was the soft drip of water somewhere in the pipes and the echo of their footsteps.
Raph walked beside Y/N, close enough to be there, far enough not to crowd them.
That was something he had learned with them.
Sometimes comfort wasn’t grabbing someone and forcing them to talk. Sometimes comfort was just walking beside them until the silence stopped feeling lonely.
They reached a quieter part of the lair, where old subway tiles lined the walls and a busted station sign hung crookedly above an abandoned platform. Raph slowed first, stopping near a pillar marked with faded paint.
Y/N stopped too.
For a moment, they just stared at the tracks.
Then Raph spoke.
“Alright.”
Y/N glanced at him.
His arms were crossed again, but his voice had dropped lower. Softer. “what’s bothering you.” He say it like a question. He wanted to know what is currently troubling you.
Y/N blinked. “What?”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act like I don’t know what’s going on.”
That almost got a laugh out of them.
You tried to say something. Nothing came out.
Almost.
Raph’s face shifted. His frown deepened, but not with anger at them. Never at them.
“You been quiet all night,” he said. “Not regular quiet. Weird quiet.”
Not knowing what to say Y/N looked away trying to not look at turtle’s gaze. It hurt them. The look of puffy lips while biting their cheek and eyes starting to water.
Raph’s chest tightened.
He hated that look.
He hated seeing them fold into themselves like that. Like something had convinced them they were too much, or not enough, or somehow wrong just for existing.
“I’m fine,” Y/N whispered. Sounded convincing you thought. But Raph can see right through you.
Raph huffed through his nose. “Yeah. And Mikey’s got a mature relationship with pizza.”
A tiny breath escaped Y/N, almost a laugh.
Raph’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t push it.
He waited.
Y/N leaned back against the tiled wall and rubbed their hands together. “It’s dumb.”
“Try me.”
“It’s just…” They swallowed. “Some people were making saying some things earlier.”
Raph’s eyes sharpened.
“Comments.”
Y/N nodded.
His jaw clenched. “About what?”
“Me.”
That one word was enough.
Raph went still. He didn’t want to believe it.
Y/N kept their eyes on the floor. “It wasn’t even that big of a deal. They probably didn’t mean it like that. Maybe I’m being too sensitive.”
“Stop.”
Y/N looked up.
Raph’s voice was firm, but not loud. “Don’t start defendin’ people who hurt your feelings.”
Raph exclaimed. Your face softens more like putty. Raphael looks at your soft face,wishing that out of all people, this shouldn’t have happened to you.
“They treat you like you’re a punching bag.”
“But I know them. I promise you Raph they mean well.” You said. Raph not being surprised that you are defending them.
“Yea well they only do this to you from what I know.” Raph said, he knows this particular group of people. Doesn’t think that they are worth of being around you.
“you are so much more valuable than them. They see something in you that they want o take away.”
They stared at him for a second, and the words seemed to hit harder than expected.
Raph saw it happen. Saw the little crack in their expression. The way their eyes grew shiny before they blinked too fast and looked away again.
He uncrossed his arms slowly.
“Y/N.”
“I know I shouldn’t care,” they said quickly, like they had been holding the words back all night and now couldn’t stop them. “I know it shouldn’t matter what people say. I know I’m supposed to just ignore it and be confident and not let stupid stuff get to me, but it does. It got to me. And now I feel embarrassed because it keeps replaying in my head and I hate that I’m letting it bother me.”
Their voice cracked on the last word.
Raph’s entire body tensed, not because he was angry at them, but because he wanted to put his fist through the idea that they had to feel embarrassed for being hurt.
He knew that feeling.
He knew what it was like to carry words around after everyone else had forgotten saying them. He knew how people could throw something careless into the air and never think about it again, while the person it hit was left holding the bruise.
Raph had been called plenty of things in his life.
Monster.
Freak.
Dangerous.
Ugly.
Too angry.
Too much.
He acted like those words bounced off him. Most days, he made sure everyone believed they did.
But Y/N knew better.
That was probably why his voice came out rougher than he meant it to.
“Hey.”
They didn’t look at him.
“Sweet thing.”
That got them.
Y/N’s eyes lifted, soft and wounded.
Raph took a step closer, careful and slow. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with bein’ hurt when somebody says somethin’ cruel. That don’t make you weak. That makes you normal.”
Y/N blinked, and a tear slipped down their cheek.
Raph’s expression softened instantly.
“Oh, hey,” he murmured, awkward but gentle. “Don’t— I mean, you can cry. Just… don’t think you gotta hide it from me.”
Y/N let out a shaky breath. “I feel stupid.”
“You’re not stupid.”
“I feel like I should be tougher.”
“You are tough.”
They gave him a doubtful look.
Raph pointed at them, serious. “You think tough means not feelin’ anything? Nah. That’s not tough. That’s just pretendin’. Tough is feelin’ it and still showin’ up. Tough is sittin’ with it instead of lettin’ it turn you mean. Tough is not lettin’ people turn your heart into somethin’ hard.”
Y/N stared at him.
Raph suddenly looked away, like he had said too much.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t make that face.”
“What face?”
“That face.”
“I’m not making a face.”
“Yeah, you are. The one where you look at me like I accidentally said somethin’ smart.”
This time, they did laugh.
It was small. Wet around the edges. But real.
Raph looked relieved for half a second before covering it with a grumble.
“There it is,” he muttered.
Y/N wiped their cheek with their sleeve. “Sorry.”
Raph frowned again. “What’d I just say about apologizin’ for hurt feelings?”
“I know.”
“Then quit it.”
They nodded, though their eyes dropped again.
Raph watched them for a second, then shifted his weight.
“You wanna tell me what they said?”
Y/N’s shoulders tightened.
Raph immediately shook his head. “You don’t gotta. I ain’t askin’ so I can make you repeat it. Just askin’ so I know what kind of damage I’m workin’ with.”
Y/N folded their arms loosely over their middle. “It was just stuff about how I look. How I act. Little jokes, I guess. Like… little comments that sounded funny to everyone else.”
Raph’s hands curled.
“Wasn’t funny to you,” he said.
“No.”
“Then it wasn’t funny.”
The simplicity of it made Y/N’s throat tighten.
They had spent the whole day trying to explain the comments away. Maybe they were too sensitive. Maybe the jokes weren’t that bad. Maybe they were overthinking it. Maybe everyone had moved on and they were the only one still stuck.
But Raph didn’t make them prove why it hurt.
He believed them.
Just like that.
Y/N pressed their lips together, trying not to cry again.
Raph saw it and sighed quietly, like his own heart had just been shoved around in his chest.
“C’mere.”
Y/N hesitated.
Raph opened one arm slightly, looking almost embarrassed by the gesture. “Only if you want.”
That made their face soften.
They stepped toward him, and he wrapped them in the gentlest hug someone his size could possibly manage. It was almost funny how careful he was. This giant, battle-worn turtle who could lift a truck looked like he was afraid one wrong move would break them.
But the hug didn’t feel fragile.
It felt safe.
Raph’s arm settled around their back, broad and steady, while his other hand rested lightly near their shoulder. He didn’t squeeze too hard. He didn’t say anything at first. He just stood there and let them breathe.
Y/N slowly relaxed against him.
For a while, the tunnel was quiet.
Then Raph spoke, voice low near the top of their head.
“I hate that somebody made you look at yourself different.”
Y/N closed their eyes.
“Because the way I see you?” he continued, quieter now. “Ain’t got nothin’ to do with whatever garbage came outta them.”
Y/N’s fingers curled lightly against him.
Raph swallowed, clearly fighting with the words. Feelings were not his favorite battlefield.
But for them, he tried.
“You’re kind,” he said. “And funny, even when you don’t mean to be. You listen when people talk, like it actually matters. You make this place feel less like a hole in the ground.”
Y/N gave a watery laugh against him. “That’s romantic.”
Raph scoffed, but there was warmth in it. “You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
“And for the record,” he added, “there’s nothin’ about you that needs to be fixed just because somebody couldn’t keep their mouth shut.”
Y/N went quiet.
That one landed deep.
Raph felt it in the way they held onto him a little tighter.
He let them.
After a minute, Y/N whispered, “It’s hard not to believe it sometimes.”
Raph’s face changed.
The anger drained out, leaving something more honest behind.
“Yeah,” he said. “I know.”
Y/N pulled back just enough to look at him.
He didn’t meet their eyes right away. His gaze moved to the cracked tiles on the wall.
“People say stuff,” he muttered. “They stare. They judge. They think because they don’t understand somethin’, they get to name it. Like if they call it ugly or wrong or scary, that makes it true.”
Y/N’s expression softened painfully.
Raph’s mouth twisted. “Took me a long time to figure out people can be loud and still be wrong.”
The words settled between them.
Y/N looked up at him, heart aching a little.
“Raph…”
He shook his head like he didn’t want pity. “I ain’t sayin’ it for that. I’m sayin’… I get it. That voice that sticks around after the person leaves? I get it.”
Y/N nodded slowly.
Raph finally looked at them.
“But I’m tellin’ you right now,” he said, voice deep and steady, “that voice don’t get to be louder than mine. Not tonight.”
Y/N’s eyes watered again, but this time, their smile came with it.
“What’s your voice saying?”
Raph looked caught off guard.
“What?”
“You said that voice doesn’t get to be louder than yours,” Y/N said softly. “So what is yours saying?”
Raph stared at them.
Then he looked away with a grumble. “You’re really gonna make me say it?”
A tiny smile tugged at their mouth. “Maybe.”
He huffed, but there was no real irritation in it.
“Fine.”
He shifted, suddenly very interested in the wall beside them.
“My voice is sayin’…” He paused, jaw working as if the sentence was physically fighting him. “You’re worth lookin’ at kindly. You’re worth talkin’ to gently. You’re worth bein’ around even on the days you don’t feel like you are.”
Y/N’s smile faded into something much more tender.
Raph continued, quieter.
“And you’re not hard to care about.”
That was the one.
Y/N’s breath caught.
Raph looked down at them then, his tough expression softening in a way he rarely let anyone see.
“You hear me, Y/N?”
Y/N nodded, but their voice was barely there. “Yeah.”
“Nah.” His brow lifted. “I need words.”
They breathed out shakily. “I hear you.”
“Good.”
For a moment, they just stood there, close in the quiet. Raph’s hand stayed near their shoulder, grounding and warm. He looked like he still wanted to find whoever had hurt them and scare some manners into them, but he kept himself there. With Y/N. Where he was needed more.
Eventually, Y/N wiped their face again. “Sorry I ruined movie night.”
Raph gave them a flat look.
They paused. “Right. No apologizing.”
“Look at you learnin’.”
That earned him another small laugh.
He nodded toward the main lair. “You wanna go back?”
Y/N hesitated.
Raph noticed. “Or we don’t.”
“But everyone’s gonna ask.”
“I’ll handle ‘em.”
“How?”
He shrugged. “By lookin’ mean.”
“You always look mean.”
“Exactly. I’m qualified.”
Y/N smiled a little wider this time.
Raph felt something in his chest ease.
Not completely. He knew hurt didn’t vanish just because someone said the right thing. Words could comfort, but they couldn’t erase everything. He knew that too.
But Y/N looked a little less folded in on themself.
That was enough for now.
Instead of heading back right away, Raph led them to a quieter corner of the station where an old bench sat against the wall. He dusted it off with one large hand before motioning for them to sit.
Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Did you just clean a bench for me?”
“Don’t make it weird.”
“That was kind of sweet.”
“Don’t make that weird either.”
They sat down, and Raph sat beside them after a moment, the bench creaking under his weight.
Y/N glanced over. “Is this bench safe?”
Raph looked offended. “I ain’t that heavy.”
The bench creaked again.
Y/N pressed their lips together.
Raph pointed at them. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinkin’ it.”
“I was thinking many things.”
“Think quieter.”
A laugh escaped them, more real this time, and Raph’s gaze softened when they looked away.
There they were.
Not fixed. Not magically okay.
But there.
He rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely, and stared out at the old tracks.
“You know,” he said, “when people got nothin’ better to do than pick at somebody else, that usually says more about them than the person they’re talkin’ about.”
Y/N leaned back against the wall. “I know that in my head.”
“Yeah,” Raph said. “Heart takes longer.”
They looked at him.
He shrugged. “What? I got wisdom sometimes.”
“You do.”
“Donnie would pass out hearin’ that.”
“Leo would make it a lesson.”
“Mikey would put it on a shirt.”
Y/N laughed again.
Raph smiled to himself, small and crooked.
For a few minutes, they sat side by side, letting the heaviness loosen little by little.
You said looking down, “ I hate that I kept thinking about it. Like, I kept wondering if they were right.”
Raph’s smile disappeared.
He turned his head toward them.
“They weren’t.”
“You don’t even know exactly what they said.”
“Don’t need to.”
Y/N studied him. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because people who wanna make you feel small don’t get to define you.”
His answer came immediately. No hesitation. No doubt.
Y/N’s expression softened.
Raph looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers once. “Look, I ain’t good at all the… feelings stuff.”
“You’re doing pretty good.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
He glanced at them, caught off guard again, then looked away before they could see too much of the fondness on his face.
“I just mean,” he continued, “I can’t climb inside your head and throw out every bad thought. Wish I could. Would make things easier.”
“That sounds terrifying.”
“Yeah, well, I’d be polite.”
“You? Polite?”
He smirked. “For you? Maybe.”
Y/N’s face warmed slightly, and they looked down.
Raph noticed, but didn’t tease. Not tonight.
Instead, he nudged their shoe lightly with his own.
“But I can remind you,” he said. “As many times as you need. I can sit here when it gets loud in your head. I can walk with you when you don’t wanna go back alone. I can tell Mikey to stop askin’ questions if he gets nosy.”
“That last one might be impossible.”
“I’ve handled worse.”
Y/N smiled, then grew quiet again.
After a moment, they whispered, “Thank you.”
Raph didn’t brush it off.
He wanted to. It was instinct. Say “yeah, whatever,” pretend his chest didn’t feel too full, pretend this didn’t matter as much as it did.
But Y/N deserved better than that.
So he nodded.
“Anytime.”
They looked over at him.
The word hung there.
Anytime.
Not only when it was convenient. Not only when the lair was calm. Not only when they could explain perfectly why they were upset.
Anytime.
Raph meant it.
Eventually, the distant sound of Mikey yelling drifted through the tunnels.
“Raph! Y/N! If you guys are having a dramatic emotional moment, I respect it, but Leo says the pizza’s getting cold!”
Y/N blinked.
Raph closed his eyes and inhaled slowly through his nose.
“I’m gonna put him in a trash can.”
Y/N laughed, really laughed this time, and Raph’s annoyance softened almost instantly.
From somewhere farther away, Leo’s voice echoed, “Do not put Mikey in a trash can.”
Mikey yelled, “Thank you, fearless leader!”
Donnie added, “Statistically, he would fit.”
“Donnie!”
Y/N covered their mouth, shoulders shaking with laughter.
Raph watched them with quiet satisfaction, like their laugh had patched something inside him too.
He stood first, then offered his hand.
Y/N looked at it.
His fingers were huge compared to theirs, rough from training and fighting and holding the world back from the people he loved.
They took his hand.
Raph helped them stand with careful ease, like it was nothing at all.
Before they headed back, Y/N paused. “Raph?”
“Yeah?”
“Again, thank you for that. Talking to me, knocking some sense into me.”
“Anytime. If you want to get rid of them I can do that too.” He said with a wicked smirk.
“Yeah let’s not do that, we have to be the bigger person.” You said to tone down his somewhat offer.
He groaned, slightly annoyed that you jokingly didn’t agree to him.
“I’ll always be here.” He said going back to what you said. “I will always be here for moments like this.”
You looked at him, locking eyes with him.
You didn’t say anything but your face said it all.
Y/N’s smile was small, but it stayed.
Raph noticed, happy that your sweet smile is back.
“Did you really mean that I make this place feel less like a hole in the ground?”
Raph choked on his air-
“Y-Yeah.” He said forward because he did not lie. He wouldn’t lie to you.
“I meant it, sweet thing.” Raph said like it was nothing, but a little dark tint of green glazed his face.
What he didn’t see is that your face already went pink.
When they returned to the main room, Mikey immediately opened his mouth.
Raph pointed at him without looking. “Don’t.”
Mikey slowly closed his mouth.
Donnie raised his brows. Leo gave Raph one brief, knowing look, then turned back to the TV without saying a word.
Y/N sat back on the couch. This time, they didn’t sit at the edge like they were ready to leave. They tucked themself into the corner, and after a second, Raph sat near them, close enough that his shoulder almost touched theirs.
Mikey, apparently deciding to be helpful, tossed a blanket in their direction.
It landed on Raph’s face.
The room went silent.
Y/N froze.
Raph slowly pulled the blanket off his head and stared at Mikey.
Mikey winced. “In my defense—”
“You got three seconds.”
Mikey bolted.
Y/N burst out laughing.
Raph watched Mikey run, then looked at Y/N, grumbling under his breath as he handed them the blanket properly.
“Here.”
Y/N accepted it, still smiling. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
They wrapped the blanket around themself and settled back into the couch. The movie kept playing. Mikey eventually returned, wisely sitting on the opposite side of the room. Donnie resumed tinkering. Leo pretended not to notice the way Raph stayed close.
But Raph did.
He noticed everything.
He noticed when Y/N’s smile faded a little during a quiet moment. He noticed when their fingers tightened around the blanket. He noticed when that faraway look tried to creep back in.
And each time, he nudged them gently. Not enough to draw attention. Just enough to remind them he was there.
A brush of his knuckles against the blanket.
A low comment about the terrible movie.
A quiet, “You good?”
And every time, Y/N came back a little easier.
Later, when the movie ended and the others started arguing about what to watch next, Y/N leaned slightly toward Raph.
“Hey,” they whispered.
He looked down. “Hm?”
“Your voice is louder.”
Raph didn’t answer right away.
Then his mouth curved into the smallest, softest smile.
“Good.”
Y/N looked back at the TV, still wrapped in the blanket, still a little tender from the day, but not alone in it anymore.
Raph stayed beside them, arms crossed, expression gruff, presence steady.
Like a wall.
Like shelter.
Like someone who would stand between them and every cruel word if he could.
And when the bad thoughts tried to whisper again, when the old ache tried to return, Y/N held onto the sound of his voice instead.
Not harsh.
Not careless.
Not cruel.
Just certain.
You’re not hard to care about.
And beside them, Raphael stayed.
can i request a bayverse leonardo x female reader where they started dating only recently and this is the first time that she decides to act on her urges to shower him with affection (sitting on his lap and just give him kisses all over his face and then snuggle in his arms because he may be her huge handsome boyfriend but he is also very cute in her eyes and she loves him so much)? and how he reacts to this? thank you so much if you decide to write it! <3
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Cuteness Aggression (Bayverse!Leo x Fem!Reader)
ᯓ★ fluffy fluff, lots of babying the blue leader (deserved), reader goes by she/her!
i cant believe ive completely forgotten to post my dontello’s cant vocal tones graphics
ft. my completely accidentally movie vs show split
theyre all not good at both but some are worse at certain aspects over others. except for true neutral 07 who is just The Struggler. true neutral equally shitty at both
and some additional clarifying memes as well
i can't remember if you're comfortable writing nsfw, so sorry if you don't want to, but considering they're mutants and all well over 6'0 - how would bayverse!tmnt react to 5'0-5'5 reader during they're first time? would they specifically have a size kink and how would they adjust?
-♡
So usually I'm ify about NSFW because I'm kinda shitty at writing it but I gave this my best shot because I've thought about this too.. sooo I'd love to know y'all's opinions on this ૮₍ •̯́ ₃ •̯̀₎ა
Bayverse TMNT & Size Differences: First Intimacy
Smut!! Please be very aware that this is for 18+! You are consuming this at your own risk! Thank you and enjoy!! 🩷
Leonardo
Leo would be the most controlled, but that control would be hard-won. The first time he sees you undressed—so small, so soft, all those delicate curves and fragile bones—his breath would catch. He'd freeze, katana-callused hands hovering awkwardly at his sides, suddenly terrified of his own strength.
"Do you... are you sure? I could hurt you."
His size kink manifests as a deep, almost reverent protectiveness. He likes that you're small because it makes him feel like a guardian, like something primal inside him can finally unlock—the need to shield, to possess, to be gentle with something so precious. His cock is thick, long, veined dark green against his plastron. When he finally gets it out, he'd look at it, then at you, and let out a shaky laugh. "There's no way that's fitting."
He'd adjust by putting you in control of pace completely. On your back, legs hooked over his shoulders, he'd only push in an inch at a time, watching your face with laser focus. Every whimper or wince would make him freeze, whispering, "Too much? Tell me. I'll stop." He'd use his tongue first—lavish, thorough, until you're dripping and begging—because he needs you desperate enough to take him. When he bottoms out, he'd stay still, letting you clench around him, groaning into your neck, "Fuck... you're so tight. So tiny. This is gonna ruin me for anyone else."
His kink is about worship. The size difference forces him to be deliberate, to earn every inch. And he loves that.
Raphael
Raph would be all bluster and raw nerves. He'd act cocky—"Heh. Knew you wouldn't be able to handle it"—but his hands would be shaking. The first time he wraps his massive palm around your waist, his thumb nearly touches his middle finger. He'd stare at that, jaw tight, and mutter, "Fuckin' doll."
His size kink is about power exchange. He's always felt like a monster, too big, too angry, too much for the world. But with you, your smallness makes him feel like he can be gentle—if he tries. And that terrifies him, because he's never tried before. His cock is thicker than Leo's, shorter, a brutal curve that throbs against his belly. When you touch it, he'd hiss through his teeth, grabbing your wrist. "Careful. 'S sensitive."
He'd adjust by manhandling you—not roughly, but decisively. He'd pick you up like you weigh nothing, sit you on the edge of the counter, spread your legs with rough, warm palms. "You want it? Gonna have to take it slow, baby. Real slow." He'd slick himself with lube (lots of it), pressing the tip against your entrance and watching your eyes go wide. "Breathe. C'mon. You can take it."
He'd thrust shallowly at first, grunting with each pump, his forehead pressed to yours. "God... fuckin' tiny... feel that? Takin' all of me?" He'd lose himself eventually, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, but he'd catch himself, forcing his hips still, panting, "Shit—sorry—too much?" The adjustment is constant dialogue, constant check-ins, because he's never wanted to be careful before, and you make him want to be.
Donatello
Donnie would approach it like research. He'd have read everything—anatomy, positions for size discrepancy, how to relax pelvic floor muscles. He'd be methodical, almost clinical, until you're naked and he sees the real data.
"Oh," he'd breathe, optics whirring as he scans every inch of you. "You're... significantly smaller than my projections accounted for. This is... fascinating."
His size kink is about contrast. He loves the logic of it: your small body, his large one, the physics of how you'd fit together. He'd measure your waist with his hands, muttering calculations under his breath. His cock is long and slender, surprisingly elegant, with a slight upward curve and a prominent ridge underneath. He'd be keenly aware of exactly how deep he can go before he hits your cervix.
"Based on your height and pelvic structure, I estimate I can only safely insert about seventy percent. Beyond that may cause discomfort. We'll need to optimize angle—perhaps a pillow under your hips."
He'd adjust with meticulous care. Multiple pillows, warm lube, slow fingers stretching you open while he explains what he's doing. "I'm stimulating your G-spot now. This should increase lubrication and relaxation." When he enters you, he'd angle his hips precisely, watching your face for any micro-expression of pain. "Too deep? Tell me. I can adjust by 2.3 degrees."
He'd be vocal—not dirty talk, but running commentary. "Your internal temperature is elevated. Heart rate 120 bpm. Pupils dilated. You're enjoying this." He loves the data of your small body struggling to accommodate him. When you finally climax around his cock, he'd freeze, captivated, whispering, "Remarkable. You're clenching at 8 hertz. That's... optimal."
Michelangelo
Mikey would be the most enthusiastic and the most accidentally overwhelming. He'd bounce on his heels, shell wiggling, barely containing his excitement. "Oh my god, oh my god, you're so smol! This is gonna be so fun!"
His size kink is about joy. He loves that you're little because it makes everything cuter—your reactions, your sounds, the way you have to look up at him. He'd pick you up and spin you around before remembering this is supposed to be sexy, then set you down with a sheepish grin. "Sorry! Got excited."
His cock is proportional to his build—thick, veiny, with a heavy pair of balls that swing when he moves. He's uncut, the foreskin retracting to reveal a glossy pink head. He's hard before you're even fully undressed, pre-cum dripping. "Whoa. Okay. That's... that's big even for me. You sure you can handle all this?"
He'd adjust with humor and enthusiasm. He'd start with oral, burying his face between your thighs until you're a shaking mess, because he wants you needy for him. When he finally positions himself, he'd line up the head, then pause. "Okay, on three. One... two..." He'd push in halfway on "two," grinning when you gasp. "Tricked ya!"
He'd be vocal and playful. "Look at that—you're takin' it! Knew you could. You're like a little cock sleeve, holy shit." He'd adjust by keeping a fast, shallow rhythm, never fully hilted unless you beg for it. And when you do, he'd groan, "Yeah? You want all of it? This big mutant dick stuffed inside you?" He'd bottom out and freeze, letting you feel the stretch, whispering, "Told ya. We fit perfect."
In my opinion, each of them has a different flavor of size kink, but they all share the same core: reverence for your smallness, and a driving need to make it work—gently, carefully, and with every ounce of attention they can give.
As always thank you for your request!! Also I tried to hope on this quickly so thx for being patient anon!! Love you guys!! 💗
