#trying to strike that balance of his canon confidence and a little flustered

[captainofthedauntless]

Glow in the Dark

Bayverse Donatello x Reader imagine

Info + Warnings: Comments on Reader's appearance (all positive, no identifying features described). No gendered language, pronouns, or Y.N used for Reader. Friends-to-lovers type beat, still in the friends era. Set a few years after OOTS.

Commentary: I think Donnie deserves to get a little short-circuited, as a treat.

"You're starin'," Raphael muttered behind him.

Donatello tried to come up with an eloquent response.

"What the fuck?" He managed, voice an awe-filled whisper. He blinked rapidly, spinning his desk chair away from you and meeting his brother's eyes, motioning back over his shoulder in an are you seeing this. "What.... the fuck."

Raph chuckled, patting him on the shoulder, just shy of patronizing. Donnie couldn't bring himself to care. "Good luck, genius." Then, he walked past Donnie and away from the computers, calling your name. "What's got you all dressed up?"

Donnie spun back, gaze landing on you again. You were offering his brother a bashful grin, saying something about the event you had attended- Don had known what it was, you'd told him what it was on the phone just the night before, but he couldn't remember the details now- and looking like one of his dreams come to life.

You were, in fact, all dressed up; more formally than he had ever seen you. Your clothes seemed tailor-made for you, perfectly highlighting all of your best features, the colors you wore contrasting your skin tone beautifully.

The cherry on top of Donatello's "I'm-thoroughly-screwed" sundae was the purple bracelet you wore. It was thin and elegant and caught the lights of the lair like the universe was begging him to see it.

Like he ever could have missed it.

And then you were laughing, damn it all, and Donnie was so swept up in you that he nearly missed the pillow flying at his head.

He caught it at the last possible second (thank you, Splinter) and whipped his head to the side to glare at Mikey.

"Go over there!" Mikey said in a stage whisper before Donnie could ask what his problem was. "This is your moment, bro!"

"What moment?" He asked incredulously in an actual whisper.

"To make a move! Because if you don't, I might- umph!"

Donnie, pillowless once again, glanced back at you and froze immediately when you were already looking at him.

You smiled- half warmth and half curious amusement, probably about his whipping a pillow at Michelangelo- and gave him a small wave. He managed one in return, urging his mind to please regain its balance already.

As much as he enjoyed the chemical soup you caused in his brain, he suspected Mikey had a point. This was a moment, even if he had his doubts about it being his moment, and the last thing he wanted was to be blinded by dopamine.

Your attention turned as Leonardo walked in. Donnie couldn't hear what either of you said, but he could see that almost shy smile of yours return as Leo spoke- another compliment on your appearance, judging by how you looked down and smoothed out your already-smooth clothing before responding.

Donnie nudged the floor with the toe of his boot, smoothly turning back to his monitors and exhaling heavily through his nose.

"Donnie," you called a few minutes later, startling him back out of his newly-found groove. "You got a minute?"

Like he'd ever say no.

"Um..." he muttered, hitting save on his spreadsheet and bracing himself before spinning his chair around towards you and leaning back. "I do now."

You smiled at him again, shooting butterflies into his stomach. "I got you something," you said, pulling a small shopping bag out from behind you. "It's a little silly, but- well, it made me think of you."

He took the bag with a smile and quirked brow, glancing at it and back to you. He reached inside, freezing when he bumped into crumpled packing paper. Setting the bag in his lap, he carefully pulled the paper-wrapped item out and discarded the paper, finding a blown-glass sphere with swirls of orange and yellow. "The sun?"

"It glows in the dark," you offered, a tension in your voice that he didn't anticipate. "from the museum. The venue was right near it, so I swung in. Found this. I thought maybe you would have a spot to hang it."

He nodded, a grin on his face. "I do! There's an empty space over my work bench that would be perfect." He turned the ornament in his hands. "Thank you."

"Yeah. It's uh... a light in the shadows, so..."

Oh, he had to be hearing things.

"Like you."

Or dreaming.

"Anyway!" You clapped your hands once softly before rubbing them together awkwardly, turning towards the kitchen. "I should go get something to drink, so-"

Donnie's mind finally caught up with your words, and he found himself stepping out of his chair and towards you. "Like me?"

You hesitated, glancing up at him. "Yeah, with the whole ninja thing, y'know? The shadows, all that."

He couldn't help a little smile, tilting his head slightly. "So, uh, you're- you're suggesting I glow?"

"Maybe a little." He definitely wasn't imagining you matching his gentle teasing, or the way your shoulders relaxed. "Or maybe I'm saying you're full of hot air."

He chuckled, looking back down at the sun he held.

"It's... probably more about the glow, though."

"If anyone here is glowing," he started, hearing Mikey's encouragement in his mind, "I believe it's you. You look amazing."

You let out a small huff of laughter, looking away from him with a shy smile. "Nice deflection."

"It's not deflection. It's the truth."

"It can be both."

He hummed, and you looked back up at him.

"...Deflection or not, thank you."

Donnie nodded, motioning with the sun. "Thank you. This was really thoughtful."

"Of course."

"Let me make you some tea?" The offer came out softer than it usually would, a tentative note that your exchanges usually did not have.

You smiled warmly, nodding. "I'd like that."

It probably wasn't- definitely wasn't- the move Mikey had meant, but Donnie couldn't help but mentally pat himself on the back as he poured steaming water into your mug. It was something he had done dozens of times, but there was something different in your expression, your body language.

He was a turtle of science. He wasn't going to draw conclusions from one datapoint, couldn't be sure that the softness in your eyes wasn't a fluke.

But he could allow himself the most minute hint of optimism when he sat down next to you and you leaned against his shoulder.