#tracked shredders

[fickleartdump]

fictional character of all time

[1987viewer]

"They must not discover my technodrome!!!"

*announces the existence of the technodrome to the whole building*

[violetvulpini]

Alright now listen, hear me out,,

[ilovebeingaturtle]

i wanna rant about '87 krang so. here we gooooo i guess. i think '87 krang's backstory is actually incredibly interesting like??? how did he lose his previous body? (personally, i like to think that he did something wrong one day and was forcibly turned into the brain creature he is now and banished by his own kind. but hey that's just me) does his miss his old body?? can he devise a way to return to his old body or is it impossible? does his miss home? how complicated are his feelings towards his own species? yeah i know it was an 80s cartoon for kids and they didn't really have time to get into some characters backstories but it's still really interesting!!! YOU COULD DO SOME COOL CHARACTER STUFF WITH THIS!!!!!!! anyway. sorry for going off about krang in your inbox. i'm insane about shredder & krang

Never apology for going off about Krang I LOVE hearing your thoughts

[mik596]

I found my history binder (a binder that all students in that specific history class by that specific teacher were required to have)

I got all the pages out

Took out all of the staples

And proceeded to shred the paper in the paper shredder that I got for Christmas

There was so much paper

But I did it anyway because why not

I got to a point where I had to empty the basket for the shredder

Had on Brandon Farris (plus my cieling light) cuz he's funny and I need entertainment while I'm being entertained

Got down to the Iranian revolution

I'm almost done

Dramatic last paper

And that was my night

Most entertaing night by far

[oukabarsburgblr]

Tongue Twisting [Dare AU]

FEATURING : AITO SOUSUKE (OC) x male reader

An annoying setter dares you to suck someone's face. Good thing your hot teammate walked in at the right time.

Short but too detailed for a drabble? has haikyuu characters as fillers because I'm too lazy to make up other ocs, voyeurism, making out, profile

Find out more under the cut!

"Still don't understand your point, Oikawa..."

(m/n) spoke with a lazy but confused grin, his eyebrows furrowing as he leaned forward from his chair he was sitting in. The brunette, standing tall in front of him had his hands on his hips.

"I'll give you the keys if you do it. It's not that hard for you, (m/n)." Oikawa smirked, his fingers spinning the bundle of keys he stole from the (h/c)'s bag earlier. Matsukawa who had dragged a chair to sit beside his standing captain quirked an eyebrow.

"If 'Zumi gets word of this, he's gonna get so pissed at you." "But he won't if (m/n) does it quick!"

A training camp had been set between Keio Shiki and Aoba Johsai for the Volleyball Men's Club. (m/n) and Oikawa both positioned as their captains of their respective teams and ever since (m/n) step foot onto the training camp's venue, Oikawa had a grudge on him seemingly for petty reasons.

(m/n) (l/n) had also been a third year setter, and a captain whose team had gone to nationals regularly representing the Saitama prefecture so Seijoh's coach had stated that the Shiki VBC team was the 'better' version of them and that got Oikawa pissed. It didn't help that Ushijima acknowledged (m/n) as a fantastic setter so he felt threatened with his position.

Since then, Oikawa would bother the (h/c) with small things, such as asking him to help clean his side of the gym, criticising his sets and serves or just straight up taking and using his stuff. Iwaizumi would knock some sense into his captain but it just so happened that both vice captains of both teams had to go run errands. Perfect.

(m/n) would have his meals in a more private area rather than the mess hall mostly due to him having to finish other duties on his laptop but Oikawa decided to infiltrate his booth and Matsukawa saw and just followed him in. His request was outrageous to say the least.

"Make out with someone."

(m/n) who was about to slurp his bowl of noodles visibly paused in his tracks and glanced at the annoying setter. He couldn't believe this was the man he was constantly compared to.

"Make out?" Oikawa grinned, seemingly proud of himself as he dangled the ring of keys he had snatched from the (h/c)'s duffle bag. "Or I'll throw this away." "...You do realise in the end, you'll get in trouble right?"

Matsukawa who had just stepped inside the lounge, froze and deadpanned at his captain. "Oikawa, what the fuck?" "Shut up, Mattsun! If you won't back me up, then leave." He whined as he tried to push the middle blocker away but the ravenette only decided to pull up a chair as (m/n) finished his meal.

The keys were access to all of the gyms and several other sections that were to be used by the volleyball teams on the property and (m/n) was in charge of keeping them safe and locked when they weren't using it and Oikawa was annoyed on how he wasn't picked.

How come he's athletic, smart, has good looks and has a nice personality?? FRAUD-

Oikawa couldn't accept someone with such a caliber existing and he was determined to find a foible somewhere in the (h/c). He continued to pester (m/n) and was about to dump the keys in a paper shredder until the (h/c) agreed. Although he doesn't exactly look mad?

"So do I have to get someone or you're picking?" (m/n) smoothened his pants, still sitting in the wooden chair as Matsukawa gaped at his relaxed expression. Even Oikawa was shocked he had agreed. "A-Anyone. Except your boyfriend!" "I don't have a boyfriend." The (h/c) deadpanned.

The setter suspected (m/n) was dating at least someone on his team, with the way they idolised and admired him. Especially his ace and his vice captain.

"How about you then?" (m/n) winked at the brunette, his finger made a 'come over here' taunt and Oikawa screeched. "You're shameless!" "You asked for it."

Matsukawa and the (h/c) was laughing at the flabbergasted brunette until the door behind them slid open and revealed an intimidating redhead. Keio Shiki's ace.

"What?" Sousuke deadpanned, confused as to why was there Seijoh's captain and annoying middle blocker in (m/n)'s private lounge, usually he would sneak away to spend time with his favourite person/crush but instead he found a grinning (h/c) and two other players from their rival team, his stomach tightened with jealousy.

Oikawa gestured to him and (m/n) laughed. "He wouldn't." "Wouldn't what?" Sousuke questioned, moving behind the suddenly cautious brunette to grab a chair, dragging it to sit between Matsukawa and (m/n).

"Would you have sex with your captain?"

Sousuke felt his heart dropped as he froze, his eyes on the ground and he heard (m/n)'s voice in the background. "He said smooching not fucking." What? Smooching not what?

The ace was confused as he peered to see the one who had asked him, Matsukawa smirking at him. "...huh?" Sleeping with his captain would be a dream come true. Hell he tried to woo the (h/c) for years if it wasn't for a certain cockblock VICE CAPTAIN-

"Like I said he wouldn't do that." (m/n) waved Matsukawa's teasing off, his eyes glancing at the redhead as he chuckled lightly. Sousuke frowned.

"I beg to differ." Oikawa was staring at the redhead, his eyes glinting as he crossed his arms, the bundle of keys nowhere to be seen. Sousuke reminded the brunette of Kyoutani, their playstyles and brash behaviour was similar, only Sousuke's style was more refined and he had been tamed by the (h/c). "If not, then I'll get someone else-"

"No." Sousuke grunted out, his fists clenching as he glanced at his captain, who was staring at him with a neutral expression. "I'll kill anyone who touches you."

"Calm down, hermano." Matsukawa whistled. "It's just kissing." The ravenette noticed the protective behaviour Sousuke had for his captain, pulling his shirt down if his skin was exposed, urging him to wash up quickly in the communal bathroom. He almost punched Oikawa in the face one time if it wasn't for Iwaizumi holding him back.

(m/n) gazed at the redhead, his eyes scanning his tense figure before he reached out and pulled his hand. "Then do you mind?" He smiled at the redhead whose cheeks flared. "What?" "Make out with me for a bit."

Oikawa's body was trembling, holding in his laugh as he slapped Matsukawa on the back repeatedly, the middle blocker cupping his mouth with his hand in excited shock. Sousuke's hand that was in (m/n)'s hold shuddered for a bit before he took a hold of himself.

"Are you going to do it with someone else?" (m/n) hummed, tapping his chin in mock thought. "Well I'm doing it for something..." He peered at Oikawa who was grinning. "Either way, if I have to then I'll have to." He nonchalantly stated, observing the agitated redhead.

"I might break their hands, (m/n)." Sousuke whispered to his captain, his hand now laying on his shoulder. "Then just swap spit with me." The (h/c) winked.

Sousuke stared at his captain for a moment, the gears in his brain moving and locking in as he grabbed his chair to sit and scoot directly in front of the (h/c) whose smile reached his eyes. Oikawa was hollering in the background and Matsukawa was holding in his cackle.

Bet he's a bottom. Oikawa didn't have a clear cut objective in his plan. He just wanted to see (m/n) melt one way or another. Sousuke was an added bonus, he was so annoyed with how good chemistry they had on the court.

Hazel scanned the (h/c)'s body, his eyes moving upwards to catch (e/c) staring at his bottom lip before they locked together. (m/n) smiled and tilted his head. "Don't regret this." "..."

Sousuke placed his hand on (m/n)'s bicep as he slowly moved forward, his breath held in. (m/n) chuckled as he closed his eyes, leaning in and he gripped the redhead's thigh, rubbing his thumb into his ace's pants.

The redhead's heart was racing, he stiffened his trembling hand as he gripped the armchair and he felt his world turned into bliss when his lips pressed against his captain's.

Sousuke was rigid as he nervously opened his mouth, panicking internally when he felt no response. "Let's go slow..." (m/n) cooed as his other hand moved to cup the redhead's jaw, his nail teasingly scratching his neck.

He flinched before humming awkwardly, closing his lips and letting his captain have his way. (m/n) gently lapping up the redhead's rough picked lips, his tongue softly swiping against the redhead's clenched mouth. His grip on Sousuke's thigh tightened.

Oikawa was laughing and taking a picture secretly, Matsukawa was hiding his smile with his hand, amused at the current scenario in front of him. A certain middle blocker is gonna be so pissed when he finds out.

The redhead cautiously opened his mouth, poking out his tongue and (m/n) seemed to stammer when it met with his. Sousuke could taste a lingering salt on (m/n)'s tongue. "Noodles for dinner?" "You know me." (m/n) chuckled before holding Sousuke's face with both of his hands and clashed their teeth.

Sousuke grunted as his breath stuttered when the (h/c) entered his mouth. He moaned when (m/n)'s tongue pressed againts his hard palate and he heard his captain's quiet laugh.

The butterflies in his stomach was raging as he forced himself to stop acting so nervous, his hands finally moved to hold (m/n) by the waist, rubbing his sides up and down. He had to swallow more than normal with how generous the (h/c) was licking his tongue, the taste of soup placating his buds and their saliva mixed.

Moving forward, Sousuke's chair scratched against the floor as he forced it closer to the (h/c)'s, desperate to have more. He couldn't believe that he was doing this. What kind of miracle did he walked upon? If any other man had sat in his position, he would have had his neck wrung.

"Nggh- hah!" He pulled his face back, panting with spit drooping down his chin. His penis was undeniably hard, the outline stretching against his jeans. Sousuke's face was hot, his cheeks red and he felt even weaker seeing the (h/c)'s expression.

(m/n) was smiling shamelessly and licked his lips, his heart fluttered and light. His own cock was also erect but he couldn't show that. The (h/c) wiped both his and Sousuke's face. "You had enough?" "..."

The redhead stayed quiet, swallowing his saliva. Sousuke wanted more, (m/n)'s tongue and drool in his mouth, or even his in the (h/c). Either way, it could never be enough. He had gotten a taste and Sousuke was Adephagia.

His hand gripped (m/n)'s lower waist, dangerously close to the plump of his ass and the (h/c) let out a quiet groan while biting his bottom lip. Half-lidded (e/c) eyes glared at burning hazel. (m/n) smiled as he felt Sousuke pulling him into his lap.

Sousuke kicked the (h/c)'s chair away as he held the captain on his lap, his left hand fondling down his back and his other rubbing (m/n)'s thigh. Their mouths were connected again and Sousuke immediately took the chance to thrust his tongue past (m/n)'s lips.

The taste of udon was more apparent now as he intruded his captain's mouth, pushing his wet muscle against the (h/c)'s. (m/n) moaned as his teeth scraped and he tried to push back. His hands are now in Sousuke's red locks, pulling and roughing them up.

(m/n) (l/n) couldn't say he never meant to end up in this position, sitting perchly in his ace's lap while sloppily making out with the redhead. Oikawa annoyed him and if the only thing that got him to shut up was for him to swallow someone's spit, then so be it. It was a plus for him too, how long had it been since he let loose anyways.

Sucking Sousuke's tongue was a different story however. He knew the redhead's obsession- passion for him. His intent gaze lingering over his figure, his rough fingertips brushing against his face and it didn't help he was handsome and so compliant under his will too. (m/n) could no longer hear the two Seijoh players laughing when Sousuke pulled him onto his lap.

His heart undeniably was pounding against his chest and now he was fiercely face fucking with his ace, Sousuke's hand dangerously hovering over his ass. (m/n) could feel the hard dick under his bosom, teasingly grinding on top of the rough jeans the redhead wore- fuck he shouldn't be doing this.

"Mmng ahh-" He pushed Sousuke away, the redhead frowning and panting with his tongue slack against his bottom lip. "We should hah- finish-" He was cut off when the redhead lapped up his jaw, making the (h/c) mewl and squirm in his hold. "Don't wanna." Sousuke mumbled, letting his tongue drag across (m/n)'s jaw.

The (h/c) huffed as his hands trembled, he leaned back, unintentionally exposing more of his neck. Sousuke brushed his fangs over (s/c) before he bit down, making (m/n) gasp and whimper as he rolled his hips.

"Y-You..." (m/n) frustratingly whined, his arousal was painful as he pressed himself down onto Sousuke's. "Hah...hah..." The redhead pulled away from the (h/c)'s neck, lust and want evident in his desperate eyes. (e/c) melted with equal need staring back.

"...my room." Sousuke immediately picked him up and walked out of the lounge, (m/n) locked his ankles around the redhead's torso. They both were still making out by the time they were out of the Seijoh's sight.

Oikawa was silent, not knowing what to say. Matsukawa was palming his face. "You should've expected that. That red hair guy was basically eye-fucking him everytime they're on the court." "I just....wanted to see him submit...not hooking up with someone."

Matsukawa raised an eyebrow. "Was this supposed to be a kink? That's gross, idiot-kawa." "I JUST WANTED TO SEE HIM LOSE FOR ONCE??" "Whatever it is, he definitely won tonight." The middle blocker secretly adjusted his pants, Oikawa's face was red and blushing.

"Why the hell are you guys in here?" Iwaizumi questioned, stepping into the lounge. Hanamaki poked his head in as well.

"...nothing." "Oikawa made a horny dare." "I DID NOT!!"

Iwaizumi cringed at the setter, disappointment etched onto his face. "DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT-" He wailed and Hanamaki looked to Matsukawa for an explanation.

The middle blocker only raised his hands in mock surrender, his mind wandering to the Shiki pair. Sousuke might show up but (m/n) will definitely not be attending practice tomorrow.

[END SCENE]

[unedited]

Afterthoughts :

Wow me posting🤩 the last part is a bit hanging, was supposed to be more slurping but i got sleepy. I wanna ask u guys to like a post that will help my team advance in an engineering innovation competition but that will be most likely indirectly doxxing myself hm😔

I have so many long drafts...like i legit have an almost finished jinx au but goddamn i lost the spirit. Ive been neglecting daisuke ik🥰 ill come back to my big tiddy man soon.

Just finished watching the haikyuu movie yesterday and kenma is terrifying wtf. I see why ppl like him now. The first year fic boutta go crazy

Taglist :

@tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer @a-short-ass-disappointment @chikai-k @mello-life25

[our-happygirl500-fan]

Something that I have kind of noticed is that Leo often sometimes seems to be the one trying to keep his family on track with whatever task they are trying to accomplish.

Leo: So where’s the dog thingy?

Something that I kind of noticed was that as early as the first episode of Rise 'Mystic Mayhem', Leo has sort of been the one that seems to try to keep his family on task, with Leo asking about Mayhem when April & the Turtles first discovered the Hidden City as helping Mayhem was one of the reasons for the Hamato Clan's first adventure in Rise.

Leo: Yeah, yeah. Mistakes were made. Lessons were learned. We got a video game to play. So vamos hermanos.

It also kind of seems that Leo seems to try to keep his family on track even in the Turtles more 'day to day' adventures as during the episode 'Hot Soup: The Game', when Mikey & Raph are clashing over Raph's over protective nature & Mikey's need for independence, Leo interrupts their argument by pointing out that they originally all just wanted to play a video game in the first place.

Leo: Hey, so Gram Gram, it is Gram gram right? We thought we were getting a weapon from the Twilight realm and not a... you?

Something that I kind of wonder about is if Leo's tendency to try & keep his family on track might possibly be a kind of form of compartmentalisation as during the episode 'Shreddy or Not' even when Leo is reacting to Karai's sudden appearance in the lair with the rest of the Hamato Clan & asking if Karai being their ancestor makes Karai their 'Gram Gram', Leo also seems to be the one to remind the family that they had originally been trying to find a way to defeat the Shredder before Karai appeared.

Leo: Hey April, cool if you don't, but do you still have that orb with all the people of New York in it?

Something that I have also kind of been wondering about is that Leo sometimes being the one that seems to keep his family on track of whatever task they are trying to accomplish might possibly have something to do with Leo's ability to keep track of multiple different things happening around him at once, that we usually see when Leo uses his portals in battle, as during the episode 'Anatawa Hitorijanai' even though the Hamato Clan had to deal with the fact that both Draxum & Splinter had been captured & also had to deal with trying to figure out how to defeat the Shredder, Leo also took the time to ask if the people of New York were still okay as well.

[getindumdums]

They were really going through it at this point 😔before Baxter’s Fly transition.

No because why would you randomly say this to someone?

[cokoweee]

I SHOULDVE SPECIFIED WHICH AU FOR THE FKN ASK THING

These bitches have baby everything syndrome pfftyt

Lil rant about dumb shit again

This is after blah blah shredder meow meow but they all kinda get their mystics cause of it HAHA LIKE THE FUCKIJG Sh0w holdingbackcringe

Anyways now that Leo can make his portals a lot easier Niyoki likes to offer his help with Leo perfecting them. The thing is they’re both fuckin dumb and Leo thinks he can make them better if it’s life or death since during the shredder fight that’s how he made them at the time

I’m losing track ANYWAYS they just kinda fling each other off buildings. The higher the better cause that means more time

[kompletaustralia]

Crushing it with the Krokodile Mobile Shredder from Komplet Australia! Transform your waste management game with mobility and efficiency. Embrace the future of mobile recycling with Komplet Australia.

Visit: https://kompletaustralia.com.au/mobile-shredders/

Or call us at Sydney office - Craig - 0417650414

Parkes NSW office - Warwick - 0429699668

[doturtlesdream]

Can you do more trans girl Donnie and Raph? Please? Uh- no pressure if you don’t wanna, just wanted to ask :3

no i appreciate you i love drawing these girlies

i think they’d just devolve into a life of crime

ficlet below ↓

“No. No! Everything is fine!” Raph shouted into her shell cell over the sound of blaring police sirens. “We’re just out for a…drive! We’ll be home soon!”

Donnie shrieked as the car went over another steep hill. Somehow even with the car being airborne and shot at, she felt the need to always be right. “Well actually, with the way this is going, we might never lose these guys!”

“And whose fault is that?! I told you I should drive!”

Donnie spared a harrowing moment to glare over her shoulder. “This is your fault! This wouldn’t happened if you didn’t have the stupid idea to rob a bank!” Then as an after thought–”And sit down!”

“You robbed a what!?”

“Nothing Leo!” Raph delivered a swift kick to the back of her sister’s head, which only increased her incessant shrieking. Raph held the receiver away from her face. “Shhh! Shut up, Donnie! And I only said we should take a couple buck to buy the parts for you-know-what!” 

“Yeah?! Well we wouldn’t need parts to track Shredder’s body if you didn’t kill him.”

“Um, last time I checked dude, you shot him!”

Michelangelo’s voice crackled through the speaker. “They know we can still hear them, right?”

No, we did not know that. Raph grit her teeth in a fake smile. “Hahaha! We’re just joking around. Right, Donnie?”

Donnie yelped as the car swerved, throwing all her body weight to wrestle control of the steering wheel. Stray bullets hit the side of the car. “Yep! Just peachy!”

“See, we’re all good! It’s all good! See you at home!”

“Wait, hold on a se–” Leo’s voice cut out as Raph swiftly hung up. Ok, one problem down. She turned to watch the hijacked police cars closing in. Foot soldiers dangled out the side windows firing stolen guns. A flurry of curses came from the driver’s seat next to her.

Raph sighed. They're not going to be home anytime soon, are they?

[moody-alcoholic]

Uninvited Guest

Summary: 2.2k words. Ghoap x Reader, throuple. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe

CW: Unconscious person, mentions of drugging someone repetitively.

Previous parts - masterlist - next part

It's a little shorter but enjoy <3

19:25

Price was still talking over the plan when they made it to the house. Ghost knew they were only here for one thing; the documents Soap found. It’s the evidence they need but Ghost knows it’s a long shot. He looks over at Soap, he’s smiling, of course he is, Ghost almost wants to roll his eyes.

The van pulls up to the front doors. He can see Chloe’s mother and father as well as extended family talking with officers. There’s a man with a suit tapping things on a tablet, Price said they’d called their lawyers. Everyone gets out the van as Price walks over to who Ghost assumes is the man in-charge of the whole raid.

“Found anything?” Price asks. 

“Seized some electronics as per the order. Nothing unusual though. They have sports rifles and shotguns, licences check out.” The officer says.

“Soap take Ghost to the room you saw strip the place.” Price says turning to them to give orders. 

“Gaz stick with me, we’ll search the ground floor.” Ghost doesn’t wait turning towards to house with Soap on his heals. It’s just how he likes it, as long as Soap is nearby it’s one less thing to worry about. Ghost watches as the eyes of the family follow him and Soap into the house. There are people missing, most notably Jack, Ghost knows from the briefing he’s not deployed. He could be anywhere, they haven’t exactly been keeping an eye on him.

After the incident in Syria he was sent back to the UK, his father-in-law covered for him which was to be expected. Then he went quiet, the theory was he was being told to lay low. A shiver ran up Ghost’s spine, there was something wrong with this picture. Ghost tried to ignore it letting Soap pass him to lead him into the house.

“Excuse me!” Someone calls forcing Ghost and Soap to stop in their tracks and turn around. The man Ghost assumed was the lawyer is walking towards them. 

“Excuse me but you don’t look like police.” He says. 

“Well spotted.” Soap says coming to stand next to Ghost. 

“Well I don’t see anywere on this warrant that you’re allowed access here.” He says showing a piece of paper to Ghost who is mostly ignoring it, not that he would understand the legal jargon anyway. 

“Problem boys?” Price says stepping up behind Ghost. 

“He says we’re not to be here.” Soap says.

“Here.” Price says handing him a piece of paper. 

“MI5? Hold on a second. Don’t enter the property until I have verified this.” The man says taking his phone out and turning to walk away. Ghost turns to Price. 

“Hurry up then, I want to get out of here as quick as possible.” Price says turning to walk back over to the officers and Gaz. Ghost watches the lawyer with his back now turned  on the phone, then walks into the building.   

“Up this way LT.” Soap calls heading for the stairs. Ghost follows him making it up to the first floor. Soap leads Ghost into an office. The place is a mess, shredded paper and books flung everywhere. 

“Shite.” Soap says. 

“Someone's had fun.” Ghost says. Soap walks over to the desk, he’s trying to open the drawers but they’re locked. He looks up at Ghost. 

“Price, we’ve made it but the place has been ransacked.” Ghost says into his radio as Soap starts looking through the pieces of paper that never made it through the shredder. 

“There’s nothing useful here.” He says shoving some papers off the desk. Ghost can hear the annoyance in his voice. 

“What about the drawers can you get them open?” Ghost asks looking round the room. All the walls are covered in floor to ceiling bookshelves. What parts of the room missing shelves are covered in expensive art. 

“Na, they’re locked.” Soap says trying to rattle them to see if they’re just stuck. Ghost comes around to see the papers, he can’t make out what the shredded ones are but there have been pictures, and folders, all sorts of things have been through the shredder not just papers. 

“Got anything we can open it with?” Ghost asks. 

“Yeah but shouldn’t we ask them if they have a key first?” Soap asks. 

“Price we’ve got locked drawers up here, any chance we can get a key? Maybe some officers to secure evidence?” Ghost wait’s for Price’s response as he walks over looking at the books pulled off the shelves. He notices the wood looks different and presses down on it. 

“Soap come look at this.” Ghost says as the wall gives way under his hand and it opens a secret compartment. It’s empty but that explains the books on the floor. 

“Shite there could be loads of them.” Soap says looking round the room. There is commotion in the hallways as Ghost hears the lawyer and other people making their way up to the room. 

“I told you to wait downstairs until we’d verified your paperwork!” The lawyer snaps. Ghost looks over at him, he can see the mother behind talking to a police officer. Gaz pushes his way through into the room. 

“They don’t have a key.” Gaz says handing Soap a crowbar. Ghost watches as the officers try to keep them out the room.

“You better not be destroying that desk it’s an antique!” The mother calls in horror as she watches Soap go over. 

“Give us a key then.” Soap says. Ghost looks at him, he looks serious eyeing them down as he waits for a response. 

“They can’t do this you can’t destroy property!” The lawyer shouts. Soap looks up at Ghost as he moves round to the desk stopping as he pushes the crowbar into place. Ghost nods. Fuck the bureaucracy this could be their only chance.     

  ——————————  

21:00

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Mark asks Jack from the back of the car. Jack doesn’t say anything right away looking at the address written on the paper for the millionth time. This is not a good idea it’s a terrible idea, it could get them thrown in prison or worse killed. He has to do this though prove to his father he can fix the fuck up he’s caused.

“You scared?” Jack asks turning to look at Mark in the back seat. 

“No, just.” Mark looks away shaking his head.

“Spit it out!” Jack snaps. 

“We’re going up against trained SAS soldiers.” Marks says. 

“You are a trained SAS soldier, and besides we’re getting her not them.” Jack says turning back to look out the front window. 

“Why is she so important anyway? She’s just fucking them.” Brian says scoffing. 

“She’s not just fucking them Brian! You should have seen how hard they fought to get her out of Syria. They went to people even my father couldn’t stop.” Jack says looking back at Brian driving the car. 

“What so we’re holding her for ransom? What if they don’t care?” Harry, Marks brother asks.

“They’ll care.” Jake says confidently. 

“Four SAS soldiers versus the 4 of us. I don’t like our odds.” Mark says under his breath. 

“Pull the car over.” Jack says.

“Sorry?” Brian asks looking at him.

“Pull the fucking car over!” Jack shouts. Brian turns on the hazard lights pulling into the hard-sholder of the main road. Jack gets out the car as soon as it’s stopped going round to Marks door.

“Out now!” He snaps. Mark looks annoyed but he undoes his seat-belt slipping out. As soon as his feet touch the ground Jack pushes him round the back of the car slamming the door. 

“If you don’t want to be involved then fuck off. Go back home to dad with your tail tucked between your legs and explain how you plan on fixing this fuck up.” Jack shouts.

“It’s not my job to fix your fuck ups!” Mark shouts back. 

“No but you and Harry are the ones who let her go at the funeral! They managed to snoop around enough to find out about the sales in Syria and Urzikstan! Do you understand how big of a leak that is?!” Jack shouts.

“She would have never even been in the house if you hadn’t killed Chloe!” Mark shouts back.

“You told me she was going to tell, I didn’t have a choice.” Jack says defensively. 

“She was still my sister.” Mark said taking a step up to Jack.

“She was a liability.” Jack responds. “I wasn’t even here I was stuck in Syria preoccupied with trying to get valuable intel.” 

“Yeah right sorry busy torturing innocent army medics.” Mark says pushing Jacks chest so there is distance between them. 

“Do you know how many fucking strings dad had to pull to make sure you didn’t get dishonourably discharged for that? 141 wanted your neck bad, and you still insist on going after them like they’re the only fucking counter intelligence unit on the face of the earth.” Mike says. 

“They’re the only one we need to be worried about and now they have proof, they’re at the house right now confirming that proof. The only option we have is to get a bargaining chip. She is the best bargaining chip!” Jack says jamming his finger in Marks face. Mark shakes his head.

“And if it doesn’t work?” 

“Then we kill her either way we hurt them, she’s gone and we come up with another plan.” Jack says. 

“I thought the whole point of this was to get back the intel they’ve stolen?” Mark says.

“As soon as my father finds out which CIA agent is helping them we won’t need to worry about that. Besides we destroyed anything useful it will take the MET months to piece it together.” Jack says. 

“Now are you fucking done with your little spat? Because we need to get her before they’re done at the house.” Mark sighs, shaking his head.

“Fine fuck it, walk home.” Jack says throwing his arms up and turning back to the car.

“Wait Jack.” Mark says striding up to him and putting his hand on Jacks shoulder. “We’re family we fix our own fuck ups.” 

“Yeah, unus pro omnibus.” Jack says looking into his brothers eyes.

“omnes pro uno.” Mark replies smiling.

  ——————————  

22:00

Ghost was stood at the door with Price watching the officers finish bagging up the last of the scraps of paper for evidence. 

“They knew we were coming.” Ghost says, his arms crossed as he watches Soap tap on the walls. 

“Yeah, we knew it would be like that though.” Price said. 

“Think they’ll be enough evidence here to convict them?” 

“Don’t know, we won’t know for a while biased on how well they tried to destroy everything.” Price says sighing. Ghost watches as Soap pulls another panel out from the book cases looking inside. Nothing again, this was a waste of time, they’d done a good job scrubbing everything.

Gaz and Soap had been meticulously searching the book cases for hours. All the evidence had been taken. The mother had passed out from stress and the lawyer insisted an ambulance be called, recording everything. It had been a long night. Ghost just wanted to get back to the safehouse. Before his mind could wander Price patted him on the shoulder. 

“Tell them to finish up I’ll go chat with the chief then we’ll get out of here. Not much more we can do till the paperwork as gone through.” Price said. Ghost nodded, walking over to Soap.

“Don’t think we’re going to find anything.” Soap says as he reaches him. 

“No, Price said let’s pack it up, head back.” Ghost says, he sees Soap smile. That makes him happy, he always loves seeing his smile. Ghost tells Gaz the same thing as he finishes checking behind the last bookshelf. It’s empty, the police wrap up too checking the room one more time before taking their leave.

Ghost follows Soap and Gaz out closing the door to the office as he leaves. It’s a shame they couldn’t find anything, but in a few weeks they would know. The MET was going to literally have to put this case together to get the proof but it would happen. And with Laswell’s help they’ll be able to track their movements even better. 

“What do you think that means?” Soap asks shoving his phone in Ghost’s face. They’ve barely even made it out the house. Ghost stops, squinting at the text. It’s a jumbled mess of auto corrected words. A second text just saying 4-5 armed. 

“Price!” Ghost shouts interrupting, him talking to the police chief.

“Call the house!” He says walking over to him dragging Soap along. Price looks confused for a second excusing himself and taking out his phone. 

“What?” He asks when Ghost reaches them, he shows him the phone. 

“Could mean anything,” he says his eyes digging into Ghost. Ghost can see the doubt in his face. This is bad. Price hangs up the phone calling again. Ghost holds his breath squeezing Soaps wrist. He watches Price as the line continues to ring. It keeps ringing, Price brings the phone down then looks up at Ghost.

“We need to move now!” Ghost calls dragging Soap to the car. 

“Try calling her.” Ghost orders Soap as Gaz and Price follow. He just nods trying to hide the fear in his face. This is really bad. 

  ——————————  

22:20

“Found her phone.” Mark says handing it to Jack. He rushes over to you using your bound thumb to unlock it. 

“Shit, she’s warned them we need to leave!” He shouts moving back into the kitchen looking at the gear. They’ve already kitted up and have helped themselves to more weapons for the potential fight ahead.  

“Is she still out?” Mark asks looking back to you being tied to a chair. 

“We’ve got chloroform to keep her out till we need her.” Jack explains, looking back over at Harry and Brian still trying to tie you to a chair.

“Did you not hear me she’s told them we’re here we need to move! Get her in the car.” Jack orders them, they nod pulling at the restraints.

“Where do you want to go?” Mark asks.

“How about the house in Harrow it’s still empty right?” Jack asks.

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a drive though.” Marks says.

“That’s fine the longer we have the better. Plus we can fall back to Kensington if we need to.” Jack says watching Mark nod. 

“Bring her phone, turn it off till we need it but keep it close. We’ll use it to contact them.” Jack says. The house phone ringing makes them jump. Jack walks over to it deciding whether or not to pick it up. He could play all his card right now and tell them they’re holding you for ransom. Or he could wait until they’re in a better situation to make demands. 

“Don’t, we need as much time as we can get.” Mark says. Jack nods his fingers hovering over the phone.

“Okay lets move now! I want wheels up in 10!” Jack says heading for the back door.

“Mark help us get her in the boot.” Harry says as him Brian drag you by your arms out the door. Jack drives, with Mark next to him. They look at each other. They’re in too deep now. Mark nods at him, he’s doing this to prove he can do this. He’s better then what his dad thinks. He has a kid and a wife, he has people he needs to provide for. He can’t lose this job, he can’t fuck his family over like this. He remembers the plan grounding himself, and drives off. 

  ——————————  

Next

Latin translates to 'all for one and one for all'

[incorrect-tmnt2012-quotes]

Shredder, about the Turtles: My mortal enemies. How dare you invoke their names around here!

Tiger Claw: Your mortal enemies are children?

Shredder: Yes.

Tiger Claw: Oh, that tracks, actually.

[johnwickb1tsch]

break me, softly

When your ex Jack Traven pays you a late night visit after a tough case, you can’t turn him away. Jack Traven x Fem!Reader ficlet

warnings: smut. angst. brief mention of hostage situation/death. slight inebriation. fluff. ❤❤❤

For @treedaddymcpuffpuff who whispered in my ear "hey you should watch Speed" and sent me down this rabbit hole (i luv u girl, you're our Keanuverse Guide & Tastemaker!) 😘😘😘 and @scarlettspectra who requested some fluff fic 😘😘😘.

It’s late at night, when you hear the soft knock on your apartment door.  Usually, you wouldn’t dream of answering such a thing–a woman living alone, in this city? You’re not looking to get murdered. But something, some feeling from deep in your gut, pulls you out of bed. You walk on bare feet in just your nightie and look through the peephole. Nothing. 

You know it’s probably a bad idea, but that uneasiness nags at you still. Not that you’re in danger. That someone needs you. You have a sense about that, after so many years as a nurse. Or maybe, you just always have. 

You undo the deadbolts and stick your head out, to see the tall figure of a man retreating down the hall. 

You would know that backside anywhere. Those broad shoulders, that trim waist, those long legs…and by the way he’s walking, you can tell he’s a little drunk. 

“Jack?”

He freezes in his tracks, clearly debating with himself. Probably wondering what the fuck he’s doing here, and if you’ll tell him to go to hell, after the way he pushed you away three months ago after dating for two whole years.

He turns to face you slowly. You can say a lot of things about Officer Jack Traven–but never that he’s a coward. 

“Hey, y/n.” 

It’s the first time you’ve seen him, since the day he shattered your world when he broke things off with you. It feels about precisely like being punched in the gut. He’s still so handsome it hurts; those soulful dark eyes, cheekbones to make a fashion model weep, a manly-man’s jawline softened by such a full, sweet mouth. Immediately, upon looking at that face you still love so well, you know something is wrong. 

“Are you ok?”

He opens his mouth to answer, then closes it. Takes a deep breath, tries again. Nothing. It’s as good as a five page report, to you. To you, who knows his every gesture, his every tell. For all it’s worth, now. 

You already knew, in the back of your mind, that you were still in love with this man. It was like a fine buzzing in your heart you’d managed to push into the background of your day to day. But seeing him again makes it all surge up with a vengeance. You know that being near him again will be like feeding your heart through a paper shredder–slowly. You also know that something terrible must have happened at his work, for him to show up here like this, and so you open the door wider, laying your heart on the sacrificial altar, the way you always do.

“Come on,” you say gently, waving him in. “I’ll take care of you.”

He gives so much of himself, always trying to help everyone else in this big, mean, city. You know he forgets to leave a little fuel in the tank for himself. It’s maybe something the two of you have in common. 

You watch as he fights a war within himself, teetering on the balls of his feet, undecided between staying or leaving. In the end, he takes a step towards you, then another. You try not to read too much into that. He’s just here because he’s drunk and feeling vulnerable. It doesn’t really have anything to do with you. 

You’re not really sure how this will go. Probably he’ll just come sit on your couch with a beer–you still have his favorite in the fridge–and talk a little. Not about what’s actually bothering him. No, heaven forbid. But circular small talk, to get his mind off the bad thing. It’s something you’ve done a thousand times before.

And yet, when you are standing toe to toe, and he has to crane his neck to look down at you–there’s a dark fire in his eyes, and with a little thrill you feel the urge to flee before his big hands engulf the sides of your face, and his mouth is on yours. 

Oh. That’s what you’re doing.

You can’t say you forgot what it’s like to kiss Jack Traven–but maybe the intensity of the memory had faded a little, if for anything out of pure self defense. How could a woman keep her sanity, if she remembered how good he was, if she knew she’d never taste him again? You stand on tiptoe to throw your arms around his neck as he devours you, and he easily picks you up with an arm around your waist, walking the two of you back into your apartment and slamming the door shut with his booted heel.

This. This had never been a problem for the two of you. Passion. It was everything else that got in the way. Most of all, his dangerous job, which though it wore on you, you had never complained about. But he’d seen the way you worried about him, the way it absolutely chewed on your nerves when there was a situation on the news and you didn’t know if he would be coming home that night. You’d been willing to weather that storm for him, but the guilt of demanding that of you ate at his conscience. 

He’d broken things off with you, in your own hospital, after he’d taken a bullet in the chest and you didn’t leave his side or really even sleep until he came to. I can’t ask you to keep doing this for me. You deserve better. 

You’d protested, of course, but he’d made up his mind. 

Until now, apparently, where he is walking you backwards towards your bedroom, half carrying you in the ardor of his embrace. You recognize this need for life-affirming intimacy. You’d gotten to know it well, over the years, and you surrender to the storm, letting him take what he needs. Letting him fist the fabric of your cotton nightie in his big hands, drawing it up over your head before falling on you again, pushing your panties down the curves of your bottom and your thighs. 

You always marveled that despite his strength and the things he knows how to do with those hands, he never ever hurt you, not even when he was like this, desperate for your softness, frantic to lose himself inside the momentary bliss your body could bring. He barely has the patience to let you pull off his white t-shirt, or to enjoy the swathes of toned flesh beneath. His belt is flung forgotten to the floor from the moment you pull it from its loops and he picks you up by your thighs, walking you the rest of the way to the bed. Boots are kicked away as his mouth is attached to yours, pants and boxers shed with a sharp push. 

You might have been embarrassed, by how ready you are for him, how sopping fucking wet you were for him from the moment you saw him,  if you could have formed a coherent thought as his thick tip kisses your entrance, before he absolutely plunges himself inside you. The delicious shock of it steals the breath from you, your soul escaping with a moan, only to be reclaimed with his mouth on yours. He takes you like the ocean, relentless and rolling, filling you with every thrust. It’s gratifying, the animalistic sounds of abandon he makes as he fucks you. If you didn’t know any better–you might have swore you were making love, despite his hedonistic frenzy.  

The same way you knew something was wrong in the first second of seeing him in the hallway, you know he’s close to finishing already, his breathing frantic in the bend of your neck, his grip just this side of bruising. He seems to remember that he’s done very little to see to your pleasure, amidst the haze of chasing his own gratification. He sits up on trembling elbows, making to reach between you. “Fuck. I’m sorry, baby. You feel so good.” Maybe it’s ridiculous, that it brings tears to your eyes to hear the endearment. You find you don’t even want to cum, as much as you just want to make this haunted man feel better. 

“It’s ok,” you pant in answer, catching his hand to place it on your breast. “Cum for me, Jack. I know you need it.” 

He buries his face in the bend of your neck; you’re not sure if the sound he makes is a moan or a sob, as he thrusts as deep as he can inside you, bathing your cervix with the hot flood of his seed. He continues to hold on to you as though you are the last sane thing on this earth, and you let him, your legs still wrapped around his narrow hips, your hands smoothing across the muscles of his broad shoulders. 

Only much, much later, does it seem to dawn on him what he’s done–and maybe just who he did it with. He draws back to look at you with concern written in those big brown puppy eyes, smoothing your hair away from your face. You can’t help but close your own lids; jesus, how you missed his touch. You feel utterly breakable in that moment, but he’s the one who needs healing right now, so you get your shit together, gather it all back up tight and shove it down in your lockbox of a heart. 

Before he can apologize or say something stupid, you pull him down to rest on your breast, the way you’ve done a hundred times before. Surely the muscle memory of it is as comforting for him as the act in the moment itself. “It’s ok, Jack. Just rest. I’ve got you.” 

He sags against you, curling that powerful body around yours–and falls asleep. 

You were right, of course. Your heart feels exactly like it’s been fed through a grinder, as you hold this beautiful manchild in your arms, your thighs deliciously sticky with his cum. A part of you hopes that he’ll just sneak out in the morning without waking you. It would almost hurt less, than any excuse he’ll have to offer you, when the sun comes streaming through your window. 

***

But when next you wake, it’s not to the sun, or the shift of weight on the mattress while a large man tries to slip out without a sound. It’s to wet kisses upon your neck, and an agonizingly gentle touch sliding down your torso, tracing the ladder of your ribcage and the swell of your belly, before making his way up again. 

“You know,” he says softly against your cheek, “you really shouldn’t open the door to anyone in the middle of the night.” 

You wonder if he can see you rolling your eyes in the dark. But then his lips touch yours, and the urge to argue with him for argument’s sake dissipates into thin air. Instead you opt for honesty, the spell of intimacy not yet broken in the shadows of what must be early early morning. 

“I think…I knew it was you.” 

He lets out a shuddering sigh, kissing your jaw, then lower. 

“Baby…” It feels so good, to hear him say it like that against your skin. You can almost forget it isn’t true anymore. You’re not his baby. You’re not his anything, even though he’s here in your bed, and his big hand is sliding down your belly again, his fingers combing through your curls. “Let me touch you?”

You really should say no. 

“You don’t have to.” 

He ducks to suck the soft skin of your breast lightly, then kisses it to soothe the burn. That luscious mouth…god it curls your toes. “I want to. I promise you.”

There’s so much you want to ask him. Things like why? And I thought you didn’t love me anymore? You’ve since reasoned that it’s the only way he could truly bear to break things off, the way he did. You certainly hadn’t had the strength to give him up, no matter what the stress of his occupation wreaked on you. 

You don’t have the strength to say no. You do manage not to beg, like the needy little thing you are, with his big body curled over yours. You’ve always felt like nothing could touch you, with him by your side. As it turned out the only thing that could hurt you all along, was him. 

You nod your assent before catching his mouth, sliding your tongue against his as his thick fingers explore your puffy slit, still wet from both of your juices. He makes a sound in the back of his throat that lifts every hair on your body, a delicious shudder running through your spine. His strong fingers circle your aching clit, just the way he knows drives you wild. Not too hard, not too soft. Fuck, this man has your number still.  

You haven’t been with anyone, since the last time you were with him, despite your well-meaning girlfriends dragging you out to bars and trying to get you to forget this man who left your heart shredded like bomb shrapnel. Because deep down, you knew, you just knew this man ruined you, utterly fucking ruined you for anyone else. Who the fuck could compare? Not some asshole hoping for a one night stand down at TJ’s, that was for sure. 

You realize you have tears running down your cheeks, you don’t know how it’s possible for it to be so good and hurt so much all at the same time. 

Unfortunately when he moves to kiss your cheek, he notices. “Hey, hey,” he says, his hand stilling between your legs, making your hips writhe with frustration. “You ok?”

“No,” you answer honestly, reaching for him. He has you cradled in those big arms, and  you can feel his manhood so firm and silky smooth against your hip. You are not ok, without him inside you right now. “Will you make love to me again?” 

He pays you a ghost of that usual blinding smile, a thing a woman would sell her soul for, and it just breaks your heart all over again. 

He never really answers you with words. The two of you move with pure magnetism, your leg hooking over his hip, pulling him close, inviting him inside. Without a condom, again, you think as he settles between your thighs, sinking inside you so smoothly. Maybe not smart, even though you're on birth control, but it’s the way you’re meant to be together, raw and no barriers between you. As usual, he fucks you and makes love to you all at the same time, looking into your soul while he does it, and it’s the best thing you’ve ever known. This time you cum together, and maybe it’s a little pathetic, the way you cling to each other in the darkness of your bedroom, like you really can stave off the misery of the outside world with this bit of human intimacy, your bodies inextricably entwined. 

You fall asleep together, this time with your head on his chest, and as you drift you decide you’ll wake up and make him breakfast, and you won’t ask him any painful questions about what this means or if he wants you back, or if this is just a comfort fuck and you won’t see him again until the weight of the world gets too much–or maybe never, because this man is bound to find someone to settle down with. Someone he can’t bring himself to let go, the way he did you. 

So you are so surprised, when you wake up, and you smell eggs and bacon and something sweet cooking. You stumble into the kitchen to find him in his blue plaid boxers, flipping a pancake, singing under his breath to R.E.M. on the radio playing low. He’s so beautiful it hurts, and it’s like your heart is gripped in an unforgiving fist. 

He turns to see you in the doorway and offers you a smile. It’s still not quite the usual 100 watt Jack Traven special–he’s not feeling well enough for that. This man hides nothing, he’s so true, he wears it all on his sleeve for you. You love that so much about him, and it hurts like a knife between the ribs. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey.” 

“Hungry?” 

“Yeah.” 

You shouldn’t feel so shy about walking into your own kitchen. 

But you aren’t sure where you stand. Do you kiss him, hug him, the way you want to, the way you used to? Or are you operating under one-night-stand-protocol? Play it cool, act like you barely even like the guy? It’s so fucked up, and you never wanted to be in this position again. 

Sensing your hesitance, he crosses the floor to you, engulfing the side of your face in his big hand as he kisses you good morning, like nothing ever changed. “Hey,” he says again, his forehead pressed to yours. 

“Jack.” 

“Yeah, baby.” 

You told yourself you weren’t going to ask painful questions. Remember? Remember that? So you just sigh, and close your eyes, and absorb this moment for what it is. “Do you feel better?” you ask. Another important question. 

“Yes and no.” 

You sigh again through your nose. The corners of his mouth twitch, because he knows you so well, and that one little gesture conveys a novel to him too. 

“Thank you,” he says, for last night, and whatever else, you don’t really know.

“Any time.” You mean it, when you say it. 

“Yeah?” There is a hint of his usual sparkle in his eyes as he asks this. And a part of you wants to pick a fight, to say I’m not the one who left. But maybe you have grown up a little, because you bite your tongue for now. 

“Yeah.” You reach up to touch his hair, the soft spikes of his buzzcut like velvet beneath your fingers. You know he would have beautiful hair if he grew it out. You’d seen his high-school pictures. He had the potential for hair to make a grown woman weep. 

Later, with your mouth full of pancake, you ask gently, “Do you want to talk about it?”

He flexes his jaw, looking out the window. He always bottled things up, before. He didn’t want to burden you with the hard things he saw at work. You didn’t want him to carry it alone. Usually you had to pry it out of him, because of course he refused to see the shrink at work. 

You realize you are gobsmack surprised when he actually volunteers, “We had a hostage situation. A woman…died. The bank robber shot her. It was my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault, sweetheart. It was the criminal’s fault. He brought a gun to a bank with the intention to steal money by any means necessary. You did your best.”

Once upon a time, he would have argued with you on that too. His jaw clenches as he thinks about it, argues with you in his mind, at least. 

But this time in the end, he closes his eyes, nods. Reaches for your hand across the table. You take it, holding on to him. Those warm, strong fingers wrapped around yours feel like home, and you try not to start crying because you’ve missed him so much. 

“Y/n…?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. For pushing you away.”

Once upon a time, you would have said something inane, like that’s ok. You’ve grown as a person too, and this time, you nod, because he does owe you an apology. “Thanks for that.” 

“I know…I don’t deserve it. But maybe…if you’d let me…I could make it up to you?”

You close your eyes at hearing that, light headed. You might have fallen out of your chair, if not for his hand anchoring you. 

“I would like that,” you admit, giving yourself points for not sounding too pathetic, and crawling across the table through the breakfast dishes to sit in his lap. 

Then, he does flash you the 1000 watt Jack Traven smile, and the circuits in your brain melt. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you big idiot.” You’re really not sure if he pulls you, or if you get up and walk, but you find yourself in his lap with your lips on his, his strong arms wrapped around you and his lips on yours. He rocks you like a child, smiling against your mouth between stealing kisses.  

“I love you.”

You feel as though the desert of your heart has suddenly undergone a superbloom, the ferocity of your love making you lightheaded.

“Jack…”

“Yeah?” He really is smiling now, in between kissing you, cute little snatches of sweetness all over your face. With hands on his cheeks you catch his lips, smiling against his mouth after a long smooch. 

“I love you too. But if you ever break up with me for any reason other than you don’t love me anymore, I might maim you.”

This wins you that radiant smile that curls your toes again. “So much for the Florence Nightingale oath.”

“Leave her out of it, this is between you and me.” He chuckles, and squeezes you again in his big arms.

“Alright. Consider me warned.”

“Good.”

His big hand runs up your thigh, that dark sparkle in his eyes that never fails to take your breath away. “I feel like I should start that making up I have to do here.” Suddenly you find yourself seated on your kitchen table, Jack smiling up at you from between your legs. He reaches for the syrup, and you can’t help but throw your head back with laughter, certain he’s teasing you. “You are going to make such a mess!”

“Honey, you’re the one going to be making the mess.” He has the nerve to smirk up at you before stealing your panties, and smearing syrup up your thighs.

[taleeater]

Fragile Part 4

Remember Sophie from Howl’s Moving Castle? Well, that’s you this chapter :]

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

Tmnt x Reader Fanfic

Pronouns: Gender Neutral (except ‘dudette’ and ‘princess’)

Warnings: injury, wholesome, lots of cleaning, not proof read

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“You IDIOTS!” A crash resounded in the room as Stockman knocked over a table full of metal tools. “How could you let go the ONE MUTANT that survived all the testing phases!” Another crash as beakers and chemicals were knocked off a table. “I never should have left you FOOLS in charge of guarding the lab. This could set us back months of progress. If we don’t find that girl, Karai will have my head!”

With an angry huff Stockman fell into his dusty office chair and spun over to his computer. He was working on updating all the computer systems there in the old Sacks building. He had joined the Foot in taking up residence there since you had compromised their position at the warehouse laboratory by the docks. They couldn’t risk a raid from the turtles and losing all his research. This location wasn’t the most inconspicuous considering its history, but since the Shredder’s initial defeat at the hands of the turtles and April, the building had been deemed unstable and labeled condemned. Since it was difficult to dismantle such a large skyscraper in the middle of the city, it had been mostly left unoccupied for the past several years. Making it the ideal base for Foot activity.

As he was sorting through old records on the computer, he came across an interesting clip in the archived surveillance videos. 

“Hmm…. interesting…. Yes, if I do that- yes…. YES! This will work nicely.” Stockman chuckled darkly to himself as he got up from his chair. Bebop and Rocksteady shared a confused look and shrugged, not understanding the sudden change in the scientist’s mood.

“Uuuuuh, hey boss, so what are we going to do about them?”

“You two aren’t going to do anything. …. yet.” Baxter’s dark chuckle echoed as he disappeared down the hallway.

It has been 2 weeks since you met the turtles. 

Initially, April had brought you a duffle bag full of comfy clothes a little bit too big for you, and some essential toiletries. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a hot shower with conditioner and soft sweatpants to put on after. Leo’s bed was warm and clean, Michelangelo cooked you delicious comfort food, and Donatello downloaded all of your favorite movies and shows you had missed. Raph one night had even knit you a cozy cardigan. The boys were all making an effort to make you feel more comfortable. But you couldn’t help but notice the reason. 

You were still scared. 

Every night you woke to terrible nightmares. And every day you felt like you were still walking on broken glass. Startling at any sudden sound or slightest touch. You noticed how Leo looked at you with pity, and Mikey wore a faltering smile. Donnie kept busy working on tracking the Foot, aside from regularly changing your bandages, and Raph- Raph just tried to keep his distance. 

You didn’t blame them. You were a stranger in their home. You were finally in a safe place, but it was like your body was still in survival mode. High strung and anxious. You wanted to do something for them. Anything, to repay them and make yourself feel useful. A distraction.

Master Splinter had on many occasions noticed your stressed and mousy demeanor. He felt the unease in their home and the distance his sons kept with their new ward. Like neither party knew how to find common ground. 

One night, he requested you join him in his meditation room for tea. You obliged.

“I sense your unease.” He stated casually.

You hesitated, then nodded. You didn’t know how to respond.

“There is nothing to be ashamed about. For so long, you lived every day, not knowing if it would be your last. You lost your autonomy, your freedom. And yet you escaped all on your own. You are very brave.”

 “….Thank you. I just wish I could feel that way. I feel so… scared. Like I’ll wake up back in that lab again and all of this would have been a dream. I… I don’t know what to do with myself.” You fussed with the teacup in your hands. 

Splinter reached across the table and offered you his hand as a comfort. You took it gently and sighed. 

“It will take time before you begin to feel like yourself again. My boys can be a little… reserved at times. It is not often we get to interact with friendly humans. Trust me when I say, they also wish for your comfort and safety. It just may take some time for them to get used to another presence in our home. In the meantime, perhaps there is something you can do that will make you feel more at home?”

You were surprised by his suggestion. They had already offered their home up to you, you wouldn’t dare ask anything more of them. But maybe…

“….a-actually… there might be something. If I could have your permission of course.” 

Splinter smiled at you.

Once your injuries had fully healed, Splinter had called upon April and Casey’s help to assist you. There was some materials you needed of course, and Mikey was let in on the big secret. You felt guilty roping in so many people just to help you feel more comfortable, but there was something you wanted to do for them, as a thank you for taking you in. April seemed ecstatic at the proposition and was eager to bring you the supplies. Casey just seemed confused that this was something you wanted to do of your own free will. And Mikey- well, he was just excited to share a hobby with you.

The cooking part, that is. Not the cleaning.

Ever since you had been brought down to the lair for safe keeping, you had noticed one glaringly obvious thing. This was a man cave in every sense of the word. The lair was terribly dirty. Dust and grime everywhere. The only clean places you noticed were the dojo, Leo’s room, and Master Splinter’s quarters. You understood that they were all living in a sewer, and they had clearly made a bit of an effort to keep it clean. But you were through avoiding sticky spots on the floor and sitting on a dirty couch. 

First things first: Donnie’s dirty coffee mug hoard. The purple turtle was currently napping in his room after an all nighter doing surveillance in coordination with the police, so now was the perfect time to clean up his station. You were extremely grateful to April for including a pair of rubber gloves in the bags of cleaning supplies she brought for you. Mikey helped you collect all the mugs and bring them to the sink, where he was in charge of washing them while you cleaned off all of Donnie’s work tables where he tinkered. You were careful not to move any projects, but wiped it clean of all its dust and stains. Then carefully sanitized all his keyboards and mouse, cleaned all of the monitors (yes all of them), and swept away the crumbs on the floor around his chair. 

Once that was complete, you moved on to the living room. Leo was currently preoccupied meditating with Master Splinter in the dojo, so no one was around to notice you swoop in and descend on the couch. Thankfully the boys no longer had a couch made of empty pizza boxes, and had upgraded to a large sectional that Casey had found them used for cheap up top. You were certain that the couch covers had never been washed since it was brought down to the sewers. You were doubly certain that the boys probably didn’t even know the cushion covers could be removed and washed. You threw the covers into the washing machine on hot water with a healthy amount of soap. Mikey then helped you move the couch so you could clean the floor underneath, and smashed the cockroach that had scrambled out from underneath. The coffee table was wiped down, the rug was taken to a railing to be hung and the dust beat out by Mikey with his nunchucks, and the floor mopped clean. 

Next was the workout room. Raph had just finished his exercise and left for the bathroom to take a shower, so you rushed in and started cleaning off every dusty and grimy sweat covered surface you could find. There was a musky scent of dirt and sweat permeating the room. All the dumbbells had a build up of grime from their sweaty hands using them for so many years. You also made sure to sanitize all of the mats and floors as well. By the time you were finished, Raph was leaving the shower and went to his room. You hid so he wouldn’t notice you as he passed by, unassuming. Then you were left with the big task.

The bathroom.

You were certain if there was a soundtrack playing in the background, dramatic horror music would be playing. You rolled up your sleeves and went in. Toilets, showers, sinks, and the massive bathtub, all scrubbed down with an unholy amount of bleach until every tiled surface shined. By the time you were finished, Mikey had come in to tell you he was ready to start on the kitchen. That was Mikey’s domain.

You were grateful that all the dishes were already clean by the time you entered the kitchen. But Mikey needed your help when it came to the cupboards and fridge.

“Mikey? ….Why do you have 3 year old expired sour cream in the fridge?”

“Huh? Isn’t it supposed to be ‘sour’? It still looks good, doesn’t it?”

“Mikey there is black mold growing in it.” 

“Oh, so…. That’s not pepper then.”

By the time you had finished clearing out the fridge and cupboards of everything expired or moldy, you had filled 3 trash bags full of garbage. Mikey helpfully took out the trash while you cleaned and organized the fridge and cupboards, and wiped down all the surfaces. By the time Mikey returned, you were rifling through the brown paper bag April got you full of ingredients and spices you had requested. 

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” Mikey cheerfully greeted you as he rejoined you in the now clean kitchen. 

“Well… if I remember the recipe correctly, I want to make the dish my mom always made for me…”

Mikey looked at you surprised for a moment, then excitement overtook him. “Cool! Can I help?” 

You perked up at the suggestion. “Will you? I’d,… I’d love that, thank you!” Your expression melted into a warm smile, and Mikey felt his heart skip a beat. 

You looked so pretty when you smiled, he thought to himself. 

He wanted to see you smile more, just like that.

You both washed your hands and got to work. On the freshly clean kitchen counter, you had Mikey kneed cold butter into flour to make a dough, while you cut vegetables and cooked chicken on the stove. By the time Mikey was ready with the dough, there were 6 pie tins lined up to add the crust. The oven dinged and the base crust went in to brown while you stirred a large pot on the stove. Then you took out the pies and added the filling, and covered the tops with more dough. You were surprised at how large their oven was, but they were 4 giant mutant turtles and a rat. You had no doubt that each of the boys would eat a whole pie themself. The extra 2 were for Splinter, you, April, and Casey, who would be joining everyone later.

Once the oven door closed, Mikey turned up the radio that had been quietly humming tunes in the background as a fun song you hadn’t heard before played through the speakers. (‘Bad idea right?’ by Olivia Rodrigo started playing.) Mikey’s head started bobbing and he grabbed the wooden spoon you had been stirring with and began mouthing the words into it like a microphone. You giggled at his antics as he pointed a green finger at you and beckoned you out into the open of the room. You felt drawn to join him as the pop song got your head bobbing to the beat. You felt a feeling well up in your chest as the chorus started building up. Excitement bubbling until the chorus peaked and your head bobbing turned into jumping around. Before you knew it, you were dancing around the living room with Mikey holding your hands and spinning you around. You lost yourself in the freeing feeling of the stress and anxiety getting washed away by the music. All the cleaning you had done was so stress relieving you were starting to feel like yourself again.

Little did you know, the music had drawn the attention of the other brothers. Leo and Master Splinter came out from their meditation to watch in the doorway, Leo smiled and crossed his arms as he looked at you. Raph came out freshly dressed and looked surprised but shared a look with Leo that made them smirk at you and their little brother’s antics. Then Donnie trudged out and leaned against his door frame and fixed his glasses to make sure he was in fact seeing you correctly. 

You were smiling, laughing, and dancing.

“It seems as though we are seeing Miss (y/n) for the first time today.” Mused Splinter, the old rat brushing his beard.

Just then April and Casey walked in, carrying boxes they had brought down from up top.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” April asked putting down her box.

You were happily giggling as Mikey spun you around at the end of the song. April grinned, happily surprised at the scene. Casey walked in behind her and started looking around the lair like he was seeing it for the first time, setting his box down next to April’s. This prompted Leo, Raph, and Donnie to also take a better look around their home. They slowly all walked out into the living space, looking in all directions. 

“.... Where did all my coffee cups go…?”

“Hm? Oh! They’re washed and in the cupboard!” You answered cheerily.

“.... Does…. Does the gym smell like oranges?” Raph said, baffled.

“.... Where did all the dust go? ….Does the couch look clean to you?” Leo nudged Donnie to bring his attention to the freshly washed couch covers.

There was a beat of heavy silence as the boys took in the new state of their home, then the timer above the oven dinged and you ran over to put on your oven mitts.

“The food’s ready!” You called out cheerfully.

In the next few minutes, everyone was sitting around the small kitchen table. Each turtle with a full pie in front of them, and large slices cut for Splinter, April, and Casey, and a smaller cut for yourself.

“Damn, what’s this? Smells great!” Casey exclaimed. 

“My mom showed me how to make this, it’s chicken pot pie. I hope you like it!” You said a bit shyly now that you had calmed down a bit. 

You watched as all the boys and April picked up a spoon and dug in, taking their first bite. There was a chorus of groans of approval as the boys hummed approvingly around their bite.

“Oh my god my mouth is singing!” Mikey exclaimed, trying to shovel the pie into his mouth. 

“How did you manage to get this level of flakiness into the crust? Was there any special preparation when kneading the dough?” Donnie questioned. Then Mikey mumbled out around a full mouth, ‘cold butter, dude’ which Donnie had to ask him to repeat when his mouth wasn’t full.

“Wow… I’ve never had anything like this before. Did you make this?” Leo asked. Raph was grunting in approval with each new bite he took, absorbed in his food from across the table.

You blushed and nodded. It didn’t take long for everyone to clean their plates. Casey, Mikey, and Raph all fought for seconds. Master Splinter and April were sharing very pleased looks on their faces, like they were conspiring all along. Once everyone was finished, you stood up and started to collect plates from the table.

“Oooooh no, you did enough cleaning today, let someone else take a turn, shortie.” Raph stood up to stop you.

“I don’t mind, really!” You urged, but you weren’t paying attention to where you were walking and bumped into Mikey who was taking his own plate to the sink. 

The plate dropped from his hand in surprise, and faster than anyone could react, your freehand shot out and grabbed the plate. There was a cracking sound and everyone froze to look at you. There you were, balancing 5 large heavy ceramic plates stacked in one hand, while your other hand was holding onto Mikey’s plate that had cracked and fractured in your grip. You were stunned.

“Woah… what just happened?” Mikey broke the silence.

Part 5

@itsberrydreemurstuff @thecreat0r64 @eli-chris @kurlyfrasier @autisticnutcase @drenix004 @donniesgirlie @cherryp-op @foggyturtleknightangel

If anyone else wants to be tagged for the next update, let me know in the comments! :]