You’re dating Raphael, but after being saved from a robbery by the Nightwatcher, you can’t help but feel drawn to the mysterious masked vigilante.
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
It had been a few months since the Nightwatcher saved you..
You’d lived in New York long enough to know every alleyway, every sketchy shortcut the city tried to hide. So after spending a late night at the lair with your boyfriend, Raph, you took the usual route home.
Wrong place, wrong time.
The only light you had came from a dim streetlamp across the nearby road. You kept your pace steady, not wanting to linger in this part of the city longer than you had to.
Raph usually walked you home, but tonight he’d said he was “busy with chores.”
Which you knew was complete BS, but you’d decided to ignore it.
“Shit… what time is it?” you muttered, slowing just long enough to dig through your purse.
Lip gloss. Money. Coupons. Phone.
Got it.
You pulled it out and checked the screen.
11:56 PM.
God, it was late.
“Nice purse.”
The voice made you jump.
Way too close. Way too calm. And way too eager.
You spun around to see a man a few steps behind you, smiling like he’d just said something casual instead of invasive.
He looked put together—clean clothes, neat hair. Not the kind of guy you’d usually clock as dangerous.
“Oh—thanks,” you said quickly, shoving your phone back into your bag and continuing forward.
He followed.
Not far behind.
“My sister’s kinda obsessed with purses,” he said conversationally. “She’s got, like, a hundred of those things.”
“Yeah?” You gave a small laugh, keeping your pace steady. Almost out of the alley now.
He was closer now.
Too close.
“Mind if I see it?” he asked, stopping behind you.
That made you turn slightly.
“Oh—uh, sorry. I’m kinda late to meet up with.. my boyfriend right now.”
It was the first thing your brain threw out.
A bluff.
His smile didn’t change. “C’mon. Just real quick. Lemme see the purse.”
Uh oh.
You didn’t answer. You just walked faster.
Trying to reach the end of the alley.
His footsteps changed.
From casual… to chasing.
“Hey—!” you started.
Too late.
He grabbed you from behind and threw you down hard onto the pavement.
Pain shot through your shoulder as you hit the ground.
Before you could even catch your breath, he lunged for your purse.
You kicked him in the stomach—hard.
“Get the hell off me!”
You scrambled to your feet, but he was fast. Faster than you expected.
He shoved you back down and hovered over you, yanking at your bag.
“Give it—!”
A gloved hand suddenly caught the back of his head.
And yanked him clean off you.
You froze.
On the ground, breath caught in your throat, you watched the scene unfold like your brain couldn’t decide if it was real.
The man struggled, tried to swing back—
It didn’t matter.
One brutal right hook.
That was all it took.
He dropped—Unconscious.
Silence fell over the alley again.
The figure stood over him for a second, making sure he wasn’t getting back up.
Then he turned.
And walked toward you.
You still hadn’t moved.
He crouched slightly and extended a hand.
“You alright?” he asked.
The voice was muffled behind the mask.
But the accent was thick. Rough. New York through and through.
“Y-yeah… I think so. Thanks,” you said, taking his hand.
He pulled you up easily. Almost like you were weightless.
You clutched your purse like it was the only solid thing in the world.
“Don’t cha know pretty girls shouldn’t be walkin’ in dark alleys at night?” he said, tilting his head slightly behind the dark helmet he wore.
You flushed immediately, caught off guard by the comment more than the situation.
All you could do was nod.
“If I was you,” he added, nodding toward the street, “I’d be gettin’ that pretty ass home.”
“O-of course. Thank you… seriously.”
And without another word, you were gone—speed-walking out of the alley and back toward safety.
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
Your attachment to the Nightwatcher only grew from that night.
At first, it was just curiosity. Something to talk about.
Then it became something else entirely.
Of course, you told Raph about him.
Every time the Nightwatcher showed up in the news, you’d mention it like it was nothing important. Like it didn’t matter. Like it didn’t mean anything to you.
Raph never reacted much.
Or at least… that’s how he made it look.
Now, you were curled up in the living room of the lair with him, half-draped against his side on the worn couch. The space was dim, lit mostly by the glow of the TV and the soft hum of the city above them.
The lair always felt like a world away from New York, even though it was buried right beneath it.
On screen, a news anchor stood in front of shaky security footage.
“—breaking news tonight, the Nightwatcher once again intervening in a violent robbery, saving a local shop owner before police arrived on scene—”
The footage played out grainy and fast: a blur of dark armor, a fight that lasted only seconds, criminals dropping like they didn’t stand a chance.
You smiled without even realizing it. Absentmindedly.
Not a big smile. Just a small, soft one that lingered.
Raph saw it immediately.
His arm tightened slightly around you where it rested across your shoulders.
“Whatcha smilin’ at?” he asked, voice low, casual.
Like he didn’t already know.
You tilted your head up at him, eyes still bright from the screen. “The Nightwatcher,” you said simply. “He’s just… a really interesting guy.”
Raph made a sound in the back of his throat. Somewhere between a grunt and a hum. Not quite approval. Not quite annoyance either.
“That so?” he said.
“Yeah,” you continued, completely unaware of the shift in him. “He’s always there at the right time. Like he just shows up when people need him most. It’s kind of amazing, honestly.”
The TV cut to a reporter interviewing a shaken shop owner, thanking the “mysterious vigilante.”
You didn’t notice the way Raph’s jaw flexed for half a second.
Or how his hand, resting on your arm, pulled you just a little closer.
Like instinct.
Like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.
“Mm,” he murmured. “Guess he’s got good timing.”
“Exactly!” you said, shifting slightly so you could face the screen better. “He’s like… a good Samaritan. New York needs more people like him.”
That one landed differently.
Raph’s arm tightened again.
A small pause stretched between you both, filled only by the sound of the TV and distant water pipes somewhere in the lair.
If you’d looked up then, you might’ve caught it.
The faint curl at the corner of his mouth.
Not quite a smile.
Not quite anything friendly.
More like something controlled.
Measured.
“Yeah?” he said at last, voice dipping a little lower. “Geez… if I didn’t know any better…”
He leaned back slightly against the couch, pulling you in closer without
“…I’d think you had a thing for the guy.”
It was said lightly. Almost teasing.
But his eyes stayed on the screen a second too long.
Not on the Nightwatcher.
On you.
A thought briefly crossed your mind.
You shifted slightly in his arms, turning your body fully toward him now. “Why?” you asked, brow lifting. “Jealous or somethin’?”
Raph didn’t even look at you right away.
“Jealous?” he repeated, like the word itself was ridiculous. “Me? Nah.”
But his voice was a little too quick.
A little too flat.
You studied him for a second, then a slow, evil little grin spread across your face.
“Ohhh,” you said, dragging it out. “He is pretty sexy though. I bet he’s handsome under that helmet..”
That got him.
His eyes snapped to you instantly.
“…Oh yeah?”
“Mhm. Oh yeah.”
You didn’t even get the satisfaction of finishing the sentence.
Raph moved.
Fast.
One second you were sitting there smugly on the couch, and the next he’d lunged, tackling you back into the cushions with a heavy, controlled force that still made your breath hitch.
The couch dipped under both of you as he hovered over you, bracing himself with one arm beside your head.
Not hurting you.
Just pinning you.
Containing you in one small section.
His face was close enough that you could feel his breath, warm and uneven against your skin.
“Ya think he’s handsome, huh?” he muttered.
There it was.
That edge in his voice now.
Still trying to sound casual.
Failing just a little.
“Oh yeah—” you said, letting it slip out like it was nothing. Then you giggled. “You know, he did say I had a pretty ass.”
That did it.
You felt the shift immediately.
Raph’s eyes narrowed slightly, his grip on the couch tightening just a fraction as he hovered closer.
“Uh-huh?” he said slowly. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“I mean… he’s not wrong,” you added, testing him again with a playful smile.
That husky, low sound in his voice when he answered sent a quiet shiver down your spine.
“…Yeah?”
He leaned in closer, bracing himself as he pressed you further into the cushions, his face now just inches from yours.
“Too bad you’re all mine.”
And then he kissed you.
It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t rough.
It was warm—confident in a way that made your thoughts go quiet for a second.
Like he was making a point without saying anything else.
But it didn’t last long,
“FAMILY living room people. Communal space!"
Both of you froze.
Raph pulled back first.
You both turned your heads in sync.
Donnie stood there not far from behind the couch, completely unfazed, holding a thick book under one arm and looking at you like he’d just interrupted a rather intimate moment.
“…Right,” Raph muttered immediately, sitting back like nothing had happened.
You straightened your posture so fast it was almost impressive, suddenly very interested in the TV again.
“Yep,” you said.
“Just watching TV,” Raph added.
Donnie flipped to a page in his book.
“Mhm.”
A pause. (Plz stop frying me for saying this, guys😭😭)
The TV kept playing.
Neither of you looked at each other.
But both of you were bright red and flustered.
Donnie sighed, already walking away.
“I need to start charging rent for emotional damage,” he muttered as he left.
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
12:30 AM.
Raph stood alone on the edge of a rooftop, the wind cutting sharp across the city skyline and tugging lightly at the edges of his heavy gear.
Below him, New York stretched endlessly—streets glowing in fractured strips of yellow and red light, sirens fading somewhere in the distance, the constant hum of a city that never really exhaled.
The makeshift police scanner at his side crackled softly.
One call after another.
Burglary. Assault. Another robbery attempt two blocks over.
Same rhythm. Same noise. Same cycle.
The city never stopped.
Neither did he.
He shifted slightly, rolling his shoulders as if it might loosen something he couldn’t exactly name. His grip tightened briefly on the ledge beneath him, grounding himself in the moment before he moved again.
Then—
buzz buzzzzzz
His phone vibrated.
It was sharper than it needed to be in the quiet evening.
Raph exhaled through his nose, already knowing before he looked.
He pulled it from his pocket.
The screen lit up his helmet faintly.
(Y/N): Hi babe, walking home from work now. I hope your night went well. Love you :)
For a second, he didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe right.
The noise of the city seemed to fade into something distant and irrelevant, like it didn’t quite know how to reach him anymore.
His thumb hovered over the screen.
He read it again.
Slower this time.
Like something in the simplicity of it meant more than it should.
“…Yeah,” he muttered under his breath.
Soft.
Almost absent.
“Love you too.”
He didn’t send it back.
Didn’t need to.
But he still held the phone for a moment longer than necessary, like letting go would make it less real.
Then he slipped it back into his pocket.
And the message stayed with him anyway-lingering.
Below, somewhere in the city—you were walking home.
The streets were quieter this late, but never truly empty. Neon signs flickered weakly over storefronts already closed for the night. Streetlights buzzed overhead, casting long, uneven shadows that stretched across the pavement like something alive.
Your footsteps echoed softly in rhythm with the city.
Steady.
Familiar.
Comfortable in a way only someone used to New York could be.
Still—
your eyes drifted upward once.
Rooftops.
Dark silhouettes against the sky.
You lingered there a second too long before looking away.
Like you already knew there was nothing you’d see.
Or maybe—
like you knew there was, and it didn’t matter if you looked directly at it or not.
Above you, he moved first.
Quiet. Controlled. Effortless from his years of training.
A shadow shifting across rooftops, keeping just far enough ahead to never be noticed, but always close enough to react if needed.
Always there.
Like he always was.
Like you somehow always ended up expecting.
He dropped down behind you in the alley without warning.
“Ya really got a thing for dark alleys, don’tcha?” he called out.
You turned immediately.
No hesitation.
No fear.
Just recognition.
“Oh—hi,” you said softly. “It’s you again.”
Like it was routine.
Like it was expected.
Like part of your night didn’t feel complete unless he appeared in it somewhere.
Raph didn’t like that thought.
Not because it was dangerous.
Because it felt… familiar in a way he didn’t control.
“I like seeing you around,” you added, voice lighter now.
That landed somewhere heavier than it should have.
“…Yeah?” he muttered.
“You’re always there when someone needs you,” you said simply.
Always.
That word lingered in the air between you both longer than anything else.
Raph looked away for a fraction of a second.
Not because you were wrong.
Because you weren’t.
And because you were saying it like you already understood something he hadn’t said out loud yet.
“You say that like you know me,” he muttered.
You smiled faintly.
“I suppose I know enough.”
And that was the problem.
Because you always had.
“You should head inside,” he said after a beat, voice rougher again. “It’s late.”
He said nodding his head to the end of the alleyway. Where the entrance to your apartment building was located.
“Okay,”
But you didn’t move.
Neither did he.
The silence between you wasn’t empty.
It was charged.
Like something standing right at the edge of being said.
Then you stepped closer.
Slowly.
No hesitation.
And rose onto your toes.
A soft kiss pressed against his helmet.
Gentle.
Certain.
Like you weren’t guessing anymore.
Like you were confirming something you’d already accepted a long time ago.
Raph froze completely.
For once, he didn’t react fast.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t move.
He loved your soft tender kisses. But part of him was angry cause you didn’t know it was him behind the helmet.
“ Hey, …Don’t ya got a boyfriend or somethin’ like that?”
he muttered finally, voice rougher than before.
Off balance.
Just slightly.
You smiled.
Small. Knowing.
You didn’t say anything, didn’t need to.
“Goodnight,” you said instead.
Then, softer:
“Goodnight, Raphael.."
That did it.
His head snapped forward slightly.
“…Wait—”
But you were already gone.
Down the alley, turning to enter your apartment..
Silence swallowed the alley whole.
Raph stood there for a long time.
Completely still.
The city moved around him like nothing had changed.
Then he exhaled slowly.
“…She knows,” he muttered.
And this time—
there was no confusion in it.
Only certainty.
Like it had been true far longer than he wanted to admit..
A/n: lowkey, ts was sitting in my drafts for 3 days begging to be posted. ITS NOT THE BEST PLZ DONT SPIT ON ME. (Unless you’re a mutant ninja turtle named Leonardo)
She doesn't think she's stopped smiling since Aunt Jenny met them at the train station. It's so, so wonderful to be back in New York and to see everyone again.
Missing Lita (and Jenny and Sheena and EVERYONE) hours hitting harder than ever 💔
So, I know this is a bit of a long shot, but I'm no motorhead. Would anyone be able to tell me anything about 07 Raph's bike? Like, whether it's based on/inspired by a particular model, what kind of speeds it's likely to do (0 to 60mph in X seconds?), any of the specs it's likely to have, etc?
