ray-jaykub

[ray-jaykub]

Hi, everybody im reaching out here to any kind soul that could help me and my wife. Leo suffered an injury and the vet bill was very high and on top of that his sister had just exited a hospital stay as well. Please whatever can be donated I’ll be eternally grateful. Share, signal boost. Anything. My wife’s PayPal is on the notes pic.

[ray-jaykub]

Do you still take tmnt fanfic requests?

I'm going to be so fr, maybe?? But it won't be my main focus and if there's any kinda one shot it'd be a short short piece. I wanna focus on some of these bigger projects I've got lined up. I have that Bay!Raph fic I need to continue and some Bay!Leo one shots that I am super eager to put out there.

I also have Bay kid OCs that are heavily built up on, but that's more of a personal mind capsule projects for me, idk if I'll ever have the heart to share them.

But yes! I'll probably answer some asks as I go, just to keep myself rotated. As for receiving asks, I may change up my rules a little bit to adjust, but idk.

[ray-jaykub]

Got me smiling a giggling like some school girl. Come on now 😭

“Hi guys! I promise I’ll get to your requests, but honestly—before I fall asleep, I just had such a good idea😂! I hope you’ll like it!”

“Date Night, Sewer Style”

Bayverse Donatello x Reader

|Fluff| Crack|

Donatello had never sweated so much in his life.

And technically, turtles didn’t even sweat.

But as he adjusted the third string of dollar-store fairy lights (rigged to a janky power converter he swore wouldn’t explode this time), he was dangerously close to short-circuiting himself. Emotionally, at least.

Everything had to be perfect.

Well—as perfect as it could be when your first official date with your crush took place in an underground sewer lair.

But still. He tried.

He’d spent the last four days meticulously planning: lighting, music, “ambiance.” He even tried making a “fancy” dinner—homemade pizza with toppings that sounded gourmet (fresh basil, sun-dried tomatoes, goat cheese… okay, the cheese was questionable, but he tried). Mikey had offered to help, which he swiftly declined. That boy couldn’t even say “romantic” without breaking into a slow jam.

Donnie glanced at the table he’d set up—well, two stacked crates with a patterned cloth April had donated—and nodded to himself. Good. Cute, even.

Now all he had to do was—

“Donnie?”

Your voice echoed lightly from down the tunnel, and he froze. Panic. Actual panic.

He rushed toward the entry, slipping on a wrench, nearly tripping over a power cord, and still somehow greeted you with a strained, “Hey! Hi! You made it!”

You raised an eyebrow at the flurry of movement. “Everything okay?”

“Yes! Yes. Just final touches. Nothing exploded.” He cleared his throat. “Yet.”

You grinned and looked past him, eyes widening at the sight.

“Oh my god…”

His stomach dropped. “Too much?”

“No,” you said, smile blooming like sun through cloud. “It’s adorable.”

You stepped into the little setup, taking it all in: the soft fairy lights strung between old pipes, the flickering candles (he had triple-checked for open flame hazards), the folded napkins that looked suspiciously like they were made from Splinter’s spare meditation towels. And the pizza—slightly overdone, artfully arranged with what looked like… a parsley garnish?

Donnie wrung his hands. “I wanted to make it special. For you. I know it’s not exactly… rooftop dining.”

You turned toward him, and your expression softened into something so warm, he thought he might short out completely.

“I love it.”

He blinked. “You do?”

“Donnie,” you said, stepping closer, “you strung fairy lights over sewage pipes. That’s effort. And it’s very you.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.”

You sat, and he joined you—awkwardly, knees up too high because the crates weren’t made for his build—but you didn’t seem to care. You chatted as you ate, complimenting the pizza (which honestly wasn’t bad), and Donnie slowly relaxed. His jokes got bolder, your laughter louder, and somewhere between a half-hearted toast with soda cans and a rambling story about the time Raph accidentally set the punching bag on fire, he felt it—

That thing. That maybe-this-is-actually-going-well thing.

And then—

BOOM

The lights went out.

Dead.

Complete darkness.

“…Oh, come on,” Donnie groaned, leaping up.

You stifled a laugh as you heard him fumbling with wires and muttering to himself.

“Give me a sec! I just need to reset the backup capacitor!”

“Take your time. I’m just here enjoying the ambiance,” you said, waving vaguely into the void.

Somewhere, a wire sparked.

And then—

BOOM.

Loud music blasted through the tunnels—loud, cheesy, and undeniably Mikey.

“YO, IT’S DATE NIGHT, BABY!” Mikey’s voice rang out as he slid into the room, wearing a velvet jacket, heart-shaped sunglasses, and carrying a boombox blasting “Let’s Get It On.”

Donnie froze mid-repair. “MIKEY—”

“I brought the vibe, bro!” Mikey declared, already moonwalking. “Your love life needs a soundtrack!”

“ You swore you wouldn’t interrupt!”

Mikey winked. “Technically, I’m enhancing.”

From somewhere deep in the lair, Leo’s voice echoed in the distance like thunder.

“Michaelangelo I SWEAR TO SPLINTER-”

“Can’t hear you, bro! Love is louder than rules!”

You were doubled over laughing, covering your face while Donnie looked like he was deciding between rage and resignation.

Eventually, Leo stormed into the room, glared at Mikey, and yanked the power cord. Silence.

Leo pointed at Donnie, then you. “Sorry. Carry on. Pretend this never happened.”

He dragged Mikey away by the shell as Mikey yelled, “BUT I WAS GONNA DANCE WITH THE MOP AGAIN!”

Donnie slumped onto the crate next to you, face in his hands. “This is a disaster.”

You nudged his arm. “This is hilarious.”

Silence returned. Flickering emergency lights buzzed overhead, casting a warm orange glow.

Donnie exhaled hard and slumped back onto his crate.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered. “This was supposed to be—cool. Smooth. Romantic.”

“It was,” you said.

He glanced at you.

You were still smiling, soft and amused.

“This is… all so you, Donnie. Smart and sweet and a little chaotic. And that’s exactly why I like it.”

He stared at you, heart thudding.

You reached for his hand—large, calloused, still trembling from stress—and squeezed gently.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

His breath caught. He ducked his head, cheeks flushed.

“I really like you,” he said, voice low. “I’ve liked you for a while. But I didn’t think someone like you would ever want to come down here. Let alone eat sewer pizza with me.”

You smiled. “Donnie… I’m here because it’s you. And you didn’t have to do all this to impress me.”

He blinked. “Really?”

“Really. But… I’m still gonna brag about the candlelit sewer date to April.”

He laughed—sharp and sudden and so real it made your chest ache a little.

Then, slowly, he leaned in. Not a kiss. Just resting his forehead gently against yours. His free hand came up, brushing his knuckles along your cheek.

“You make all of this feel… okay,” he whispered.

You smiled and leaned into his touch.

“So do you.”

And in the soft hum of faulty lights, surrounded by chaos and candles and leftover jazz still buzzing faintly through the walls, Donnie kissed your cheek—shy, careful, reverent.

It was imperfect.

And completely perfect.

[ray-jaykub]

Can you do a Bayverse Raph x Childhood best friend reader who's kind of a girly girl (loves pink, knows a lot about makeup and fashion, likes dressing up in pretty and cute outfits, and is an absolute sweetheart).

During when the tower is falling (reader isn't here for this) and Raph is cofessing, is where he spills that he's loved the reader for years but never said anything because he felt like he wouldn't be good enough for her and that she deserves better is also around the time they just landed on the ground and his brothers as well as April know the truth about Raph's feelings for her, and reader feels the same but also didn't say anything because she was worried it would affect their friendship in a negative way.

The way they confess to each other could be very similar to Lumity, where his brothers set them up on a 'mission' together. Which is actually a set-up date that Raph destroys out of embarrassment and fear of getting rejected, which makes the reader sad because she thinks he doesn't like her. But after something goes wrong and protects the reader from it is when they finally tell each other

A/N: Hello, anon! I haven’t watched The Owl House in a hot minute, but I tried my best to capture the vibe of *that* episode in a TMNT context. Thank you so much for the request; it was fun to finally write some Bayverse turts!

Rooftop Confession (angst/fluff)

❤️ Bayverse Raphael/Female Reader ❤️

CWs: Near-death situations (past & present), angst/insecurity, mutual pining, first kiss, happy ending. Takes place between the first movie and Out of the Shadows. All characters are aged-up.

The memory still hits Raph sometimes, sharp and sudden. Hanging onto that crumbling tower, the world tilting beneath him, the certainty of oblivion pressing in. He remembers that moment when, with everything stripped away, the raw truth clawed its way out.

“I … I shoulda told her,” he remembers choking out, the words torn from him by fear and regret, barely audible over the roar of destruction.

Leo, Donnie, and Mikey—they heard it. April, clinging nearby, heard it too.

“I always loved her. Since we were kids. But she deserves better. Someone … normal. Not a freak like me.”

They survived, somehow. Landed hard, bruised and battered, but alive. The confession hangs in the air between him and his brothers, an unspoken acknowledgment. They know. April knows. The only one who doesn’t know the depth of his feelings for you is … you.

❤️ Some Months Later ❤️

You adjust the bow on your pastel pink crossbody bag, humming softly as you follow Leo through the lair’s entrance tunnel.

Tonight’s outfit is one of your favorites: a soft, lavender A-line dress with little white flowers embroidered on the hem, paired with cute white sneakers that have delicate ribbon laces. You’ve also done your makeup—a shimmery pink eyeshadow, a touch of blush, and your signature strawberry-scented lip gloss.

Dressing up always makes you feel happy, even if you’re just hanging out in a sewer lair with your giant turtle friends.

Especially one giant turtle best friend specifically.

Your heart does its usual little flutter-kick when you see Raph leaning against a wall, arms crossed, looking characteristically grumpy. But you know him, know the slight softening around his eyes when he sees you, even if he tries to hide it. You’ve been friends since you were both kids—you, the bright-eyed human girl fascinated by the shadows. And him, the equally fascinated mutant turtle hiding within them.

You share secrets, scraped knees, and watch terrible late-night movies together. And somewhere along the way, your childhood affection has blossomed into something deeper. Something you are terrified to name for fear of shattering the precious bond you already have.

“Alright, team,” Leo says, clapping his hands together. “Quick recon mission tonight. Donnie picked up some unusual activity near the old waterfront warehouse district. Could be the Foot stirring things up, so we need a quiet approach.” He looks pointedly between you and Raph. “Raph, your strength might be needed if things get heavy. And you—your observational skills are top-notch. And frankly, you blend in better than the rest of us. But make sure to keep comms open and report back.”

You try to ignore the way your stomach flips at the idea of working closely with Raph tonight. “Just us? Are you sure, Leo?” you ask, tilting your head.

Mikey practically vibrates with suppressed energy behind Leo, giving you an overly enthusiastic thumbs-up. Donnie adjusts his glasses, looking suspiciously focused on a scanner that isn’t turned on. April, leaning against Donnie’s desk, offers you a small, encouraging smile.

Something feels … orchestrated.

“Positive,” Leo answers firmly. “Now gear up, you two.”

Raph grunts, pushing off the wall. He doesn’t meet your eyes directly, which is odd. Usually, he’d at least give you a nod or a gruff, ‘hey.’

You grab Donnie’s enhanced binoculars and a pair of comms devices from his desk, attaching one to your dress. You hold the other out for Raph, who takes it without a word. His thick fingers brush yours for the briefest second, and a pleasant jolt zings up your arm. He recoils as if burned, shoving the device into a belt pouch before storming towards the exit and muttering under his breath.

You follow him out, casting a quick, slightly bewildered glance back at the others. Mikey is practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, Donnie is suddenly very interested in polishing his glasses, Leo gives a sharp nod that feels more like a dismissal, and April just winks.

Okay, definitely orchestrated.

You hurry after Raph, your sneakers quiet on the concrete floor. “Raph? Everything okay?” you ask softly as you catch up in the tunnel leading out.

“Peachy,” he grunts, his voice tight. He won’t look at you.

The silence stretches between you as you walk. Usually, these tunnels echo with your shared laughter or Raph’s rumbling complaints about Mikey’s latest prank. His shoulders are rigid, his sais held tight at his sides, radiating a tension that has nothing to do with the upcoming mission. It prickles against your skin, making your own nerves fray.

You risk a sideways glance at him. His jaw is tight, his gaze fixed firmly ahead. The usual grumpy facade is there, but underneath it simmers something else—something agitated and uncomfortable. It hurts, just a little, this sudden wall between you. He’s never been this closed off before.

“So,” you try again, keeping your voice casual. “Waterfront warehouses. Creepy. Think we’ll see any ghost pirates?” You’re referencing an old inside joke, a ridiculous B-movie you watched together years ago. Normally, it would earn you at least a scoff, maybe even the faintest hint of a smile.

He doesn’t break stride. “Focus,” he grunts, the word clipped.

You bite your lip, feeling a flush creep up your neck. Fine. If he wants to be all business, then so can you. “Right.”

You adjust your bag again, suddenly self-conscious about your dress and sneakers. Maybe dressing up wasn’t the best idea for potential Foot Clan trouble. But Leo knew what you were wearing …

You pull your own focus inward, scanning the tunnel ahead, trying to push down the disappointment churning in your stomach. Why is he acting like this? Did you do something wrong?

You emerge from the sewers near the waterfront. The air here is cool, carrying the distant sounds of the city—a lone siren, the rumble of traffic on a far-off bridge. Ahead, the hulking shapes of the warehouses loom against the night sky, their windows dark.

“Okay, Leo said quiet approach,” you murmur, more to yourself than to Raph, pulling out the binoculars. You scan the nearest rooftop, looking for movement or any sign of Foot activity.

Raph moves ahead, his enormous frame surprisingly silent as he hugs the shadows along the alley wall ahead. He pauses at the corner, peering around it cautiously before gesturing for you to follow. As you move to join him, your sneaker catches on uneven pavement. You stumble, letting out a tiny gasp.

Instantly, a large, three-fingered hand shoots out, steadying your arm. The touch is firm, grounding, and sends another jolt through you. You look up, surprised, straight into Raph’s eyes. And for a fraction of a second, the wall is down.

You see the worry in his gaze, the familiar protective instinct overriding whatever else is bothering him. His grip tightens almost imperceptibly, a reflex honed over years of watching out for you. Then, just as quickly, it’s gone.

He snatches his hand back, turning away sharply. His shoulders tense up again, maybe even more than before. “Watch your step,” he mutters, his voice rougher than usual. He doesn’t wait for a reply, just melts back into the shadows at the corner, resuming his watch.

Your heart skips a beat, though it’s tangled with confusion. That brief moment—that flicker of the Raph you know—only makes his current behavior more baffling. He’s here, right beside you, but he feels miles away. And whatever this mission is, you have a growing suspicion that the real challenge tonight won’t be finding the Foot.

It’ll be navigating the strange, sudden distance between you and your best friend.

You activate your comm. “Okay, Leo, we’re topside at the waterfront. Area looks clear for now. Anything else we should be looking out for?”

There’s a crackle, then comes Leo’s voice. “Negative, just keep your eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. How’s … uh … how’s the teamwork going?”

You glance at Raph’s stiff back. “It’s … quiet,” you say carefully.

“Good! Good! Quiet is good for recon!” Leo replies quickly. Then you hear a muffled shuffling sound and what might be Mikey whispering, “Ask them if they’re holding hands yet!” followed by a sharp “Mikey!” presumably from Leo or Donnie, and then static.

Your cheeks flush. Okay, now you know for sure. This isn’t a mission. This is a set-up. Raph’s brothers—they’ve thrown you two together out here. But why? And why is Raph acting like he’d rather wrestle Shredder blindfolded and unarmed than be alone with you?

“So,” you say, deciding to push forward with the charade, mostly because you don’t know what else to do. “Rooftop access?”

Raph grunts and points at a rusty fire escape ladder on the side of the nearest warehouse. “There,” he says, moving towards it.

He tests the lowest rung, satisfied when it holds his weight, and begins to climb without a word. You follow, hoisting yourself onto the first rung. You focus on the climb, placing your feet carefully, acutely aware of his broad back moving steadily above you.

Normally, Raph would check back, offering a hand even though he knows you’re capable, grumbling about making sure you don’t fall. Tonight, he just climbs, putting distance between you—and the hurt twists a little deeper in your chest.

You reach the flat, gravel-strewn roof, panting slightly. Raph is already crouched near the edge, his silhouette stark against the faint glow of the city lights reflecting off the low clouds as he scans the cluster of warehouses. You join him near the edge, keeping a respectful distance, the silence stretching taut between you.

The rooftop overlooking the warehouse district is surprisingly nice, in a way. The city lights glitter in the distance, reflecting off the dark water. There is even a small, neglected rooftop garden across the street with overgrown planters. It feels almost … romantic.

You take a deep breath of the crisp night air. “It’s actually kind of pretty up here, isn’t it?” you offer, trying to break the tense silence.

Raph swats away a loose piece of gravel. “It’s a rooftop. Concrete and pigeon crap.”

You wince slightly at his tone. “Right. So, uh … any signs of Foot activity?” you finish lamely, pulling the binoculars back up to your eyes, though you’re not really looking at anything.

He shifts beside you, sweeping away another stone, sending it skittering across the rooftop. “Nope,” he grunts. “Place is dead quiet. Just like Leo probably knew it would be.” There’s an edge to his voice, a raw frustration that goes beyond simple grumpiness.

Lowering the binoculars slowly, you turn to face him more directly. You can feel the thump of your own heart against your ribs. “Raphael,” you begin, your voice softer than you intended. He flinches, just slightly, like the sound of his full name startled him. He finally glances towards you, though his gaze lands somewhere near your shoulder, not quite meeting your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

He stiffens immediately, crossing his thick arms over his plastron. “Nothin’s wrong. Told ya. Just doin’ the mission.”

“No,” you persist, finding a little more firmness. You know him too well to buy that. “Something is wrong. You’re barely speaking to me. And you’ve been acting weird ever since we left the lair. Did I … do something?” Your voice trembles slightly on the last question.

His head snaps up slightly at the tremor in your voice, a flicker of alarm crossing his features before he clamps down on it. “No!” he says, the word sharp, almost explosive. Then, quieter, more strained, “You didn’t do nothin’. It’s just … this whole thing is stupid.”

“Stupid? The mission?” you ask, latching onto the excuse, even though your gut tells you it’s not the entire story.

“Yeah! The ‘mission’!” He practically spits the word out, gesturing vaguely at the empty warehouses spread out below. “Leo sends us out here for nothin’. Just … gawkin’ at empty buildings in the dark.” His frustration is palpable, rolling off him in waves. He still won’t quite look at you.

“So you’re mad at Leo?” you probe gently, sensing you’re circling the actual issue.

He scrubs a hand over his face, his expression a turbulent mix of anger and something else. Embarrassment? Conflict? “Yeah. Mad at Leo.” He pauses, then mutters under his breath, almost inaudibly, “and Donnie. And Mikey.”

“Why?” The question hangs in the air, though the orchestrated nature of the evening has become blindingly clear. “Because they sent us out alone?”

Raph finally looks at you.

The raw emotion swirling in his eyes makes your breath catch. It’s frustration, yes, but tangled with a vulnerability that mirrors the look you saw when he caught you stumbling in the alley. He is watching you, a strange mix of frustration and something softer flickering in his eyes before he quickly looks away, scowling harder.

“This is dumb,” he growls, suddenly rising, pacing back and forth. “Just standin’ around. We should be doing somethin’.”

Your usually bright demeanor dims again, and a knot of disappointment forms in your stomach. Usually, even when Raph is moody, he isn’t this dismissive towards you.

You hug your arms around yourself, the pretty dress suddenly feeling even sillier. “If you don’t want to be here with me, you can just say so. Leo can send Donnie or Mikey.”

Raph stops pacing, looking genuinely taken aback for a second. “What? No, it’s not … It’s not you. It’s this whole … mission.” He gestures vaguely again, looking flustered. “It’s pointless.”

His words, meant perhaps to reassure, land wrong. This—being here with you—feels pointless to him?

Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and you quickly blink them back, turning away to stare fixedly at the skyline. “Oh. Okay.” Your voice is small.

Raph opens his mouth, then closes it, running a hand over his head in frustration. He looks utterly miserable, caught between his fierce feelings and his equally fierce fear. He hates seeing you sad, especially when he knows he is the cause. But the thought of confessing—of seeing potential pity or rejection in your eyes—it paralyzes him.

This whole set-up by his brothers is backfiring spectacularly.

Suddenly, a low groan echoes from the structure beneath your feet. Not metal stress. But something heavier, older. Concrete shifts.

“What is that?” you ask, glancing down nervously.

Before Raph can answer, a loud CRACK splits the air. The section of rooftop near the edge, right where you are, buckles violently. A chunk of concrete the size of a small car breaks loose, plummeting towards the alley below, and taking the patch of roof you are on with it.

You cry out, stumbling backwards as the ground disappears beneath you while Raph roars your name.

In a fraction of a second, all his awkwardness, fear, and frustration vanish, replaced by instinct. He launches himself forward, his massive green hand clamping around your wrist like a vise just as your feet leave the stable part of the roof. He hauls you back, stumbling himself but managing to pull you against his plastron, shielding your body with his own.

You land hard against his chest, the air knocked out of you, heart pounding against his like a drum. His arms are iron bands around you, holding you so tight you can barely breathe. Dust fills the air. Below, the chunk of concrete smashes into the alley with a deafening crash.

For a long moment, neither of you moves. You are trembling, clinging to the rough texture of his skin, the solid reality of him beneath your hands. He is holding you as if his life depends on it, his breathing ragged.

Finally, he loosens his grip slightly, tilting your chin up with one finger, his eyes scanning you frantically. “You okay? You hurt?” His voice is raw, thick with adrenaline and fear.

“I-I’m okay,” you stammer, tears finally spilling over, born of shock and relief. “You … you saved me, Raph.”

Seeing your tears, his expression crumples. “Aw, hell, I …” He trails off, looking down at you cradled in his arms, so small and fragile compared to him. The nearness, the lingering danger, almost losing you—it breaks down the last of his carefully constructed walls. “I’m sorry. For before. For bein’ a jerk.”

You shake your head, still trying to catch your breath. “It’s okay.”

“No,” he insists, his gaze intense, locking with yours. “It’s not okay. I ruined it. This … this whole thing.” He takes a shaky breath. “Leo an’ the guys—they set this up. This wasn’t just recon. It was supposed ta be … somethin’ else.”

Your eyes widen slightly. Like … a date?

“I panicked,” Raph admits, looking deeply ashamed. “Because … look at ya. You’re amazing. Always have been. So bright, and kind, and perfect.” He gestures at himself. “And I’m just … this. And I freak out, thinkin’ there’s no way someone like you can ever”—he pauses, swallowing hard—“feel the same way about someone like me.”

He finally echoes the words he confessed on that falling tower. “I’ve loved you for years. Since we were kids, watchin’ cartoons. But I was scared. Scared I’m not good enough. Scared I’ll ruin everything. I think you deserve … better.”

Waves of emotion wash over you—shock, understanding, overwhelming relief. The tears flow freely now, but they aren’t sad tears.

You reach up, your hand trembling slightly as you cup his cheek. “Oh, Raphie,” you whisper, using his old childhood nickname. “You idiot.” A watery giggle escapes you. “You big, strong, wonderful idiot.”

Now, he’s the one whose eyes widen in surprise.

“You think I didn’t feel the same?” you continue, your voice gaining strength. “You think I didn’t spend years wondering if you saw me as anything more than just your human friend? I was scared too, Raph. Scared of losing you, losing our friendship if I said anything, if I misread everything. Scared I wasn’t tough enough, or cool enough, for you.”

You press your forehead against him. “You’re not ‘just this.’ You’re brave, and loyal, and you protect the people you care about more fiercely than anyone I know. You have the biggest heart, even if you try to hide it under all that grumpiness. How can I not fall for you?”

He stares at you, his usual scowl completely gone, replaced by stunned vulnerability. “You … you mean that?”

“Every word,” you breathe.

Slowly, tentatively, he leans down. You meet him halfway, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that is hesitant at first, then deepens with all the years of unspoken longing. His hands are infinitely careful as one cups the back of your head, the other resting gently on your waist.

And when you finally pull back, breathless, you are both smiling.

“So,” Raph mumbles, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “This, uh, date kinda sucked hard until the end.”

You laugh. “Yeah, well, the ending was pretty spectacular.” You feel safe and warm nestled against him, the earlier hurt completely forgotten. “Maybe we can try again? Somewhere more structurally sound?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I’d like that,” he says, tightening his arm around you protectively.

Your comm crackles to life. “Uh, guys? Everything okay?” Leo’s voice sounds cautious. “Donnie lost your signal for a minute after that tremor.”

Raph glances down at you, a smirk playing on his lips as he switches on his own comm. “Yeah, Leo. Everything’s fine. More than fine.” He pauses, then adds, unable to resist, “Mission accomplished.”

You giggle, burying your face against his plastron as you hear Mikey whooping victoriously over the comms. The set-up might have gone disastrously wrong, but sometimes, it takes a little chaos to finally knock down the walls and let the truth come tumbling out.

And looking up at Raph’s relieved, smiling face, you know one thing for certain …

This ending was worth the wait.

[ray-jaykub]

99 problems but this girl ain't one

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64653034/chapters/166083055

Okay! If you see me posting this again, it's bc the tags were acting up!

Anyway, I've got a three parter older Raphael x younger reader fic in the works on ao3. It's an AU where the guy's live in the public and there's other mutants and stuff too, so there's a little more freedom with what I can do.

Raph is 50 and Reader is 30!!

It's an age gap but like, one where they both got their own lives and pay their own bills and stuff, don't worry, reader will not be some helpless lil 20 year old. We ain't about that here.

Here's the tags and stuff

[ray-jaykub]

Where I'm more active

Im just gonna go ahead and say I'll probably be a lot more active on my Ao3 than on here, so if you ever wanna scooch over there and show my fics some love my handle is @/Super_Shiny

I plan on maybe doing a blurbs series for tmnt of just random daydreams, maybe some OC stuff but until then I'm gonna be focused on trying to finish my pieces for the feminine admiration series, which will have Michelangelo added to soon!

[ray-jaykub]

Climbing Floors to Purple Light

This is a little brain worm I've had, for who knows how long, and I finally got it out. I know there isn't much interaction between reader and Donnie but I'm gonna be honest the point of this fic was to give you guys a reader who has the chance to fight for herself. Domestic violence is a rampant and killing oppression that many people face. Some do not have the strength to leave their situations, some may not even know they're in situations to begin with, and some do die. I come from a childhood filled with domestic violence and child abuse, and many years I had laid awake watching out that trailer window not knowing that what I was going through was wrong but knowing I never wanted it for myself. Sadly, that doesn't make me immune to falling into the cycle my mother and grandmother had, we are all at the potential of falling into harmful relationships. Stay aware, stay safe, and stay open to help. You are not alone

Tw: domestic violence, crude language, ugly men, ominous ending for ex

It's a little bit of a rainy night here in New York, drizzling against your umbrella as you walk back to your apartment with a pep in your step. The guy's and April had made the plan to have a fun game night to start off the weekend, and afterward, the guys would head out to do their usual rounds. Hanging with them was always the best, Mikey had a habit of making whatever drink you have coming out your nose with his jokes, but you were more excited about one brother specifically.

You and Donatello had been going steady for… 6 months? You struggled to remember, but he could tell you the exact days, minutes, and hours. He was a total upgrade from your last relationship, kind and attentive, patient, and forgiving. April claimed this should be considered the norm, but your bar had been set kinda, maybe super, low. But that just made everything better in your eyes! And yeah, sometimes when he was nose deep in some business, you can get kind of lonely. But you can't even dwell on it long before he door dashes a treat to your apartment or sends you plans for a date that he'd rolled in his brain for the past couple hours.

Just thinking about him makes you smile, and quickly, you pull your phone out, shooting a quick text to him that you're about to be inside the building. Maybe you were moving too fast with him, falling in so deep, sharing parts of yourself with him that you probably wouldn't have done with any other guy. Yet, it all felt so right.

There was one part you had not shared with him, though.It hadn't helped that your last relationship was so…mean. Being hit hurt more than it looked on TV, and a long time ago, you had convinced yourself that a part of you deserved it. The hair pulling and kicking your knees, gripping you till there were big purple splotches. You lost friends, somehow didn't lose your job, and at this point could feel the look of pity from miles away. Being handed brochures on how to leave dangerous situations by supporting groups or defacs workers and being asked if there was trouble at home by worrying grannies. You would persist that it was fine, would throw away the pamphlets or guiltily shove them in an old coat pocket in the back of your closet.It had taken being beaten down on the bathroom floor just because of how you were "looking at him" to finally realize it'd be best getting out of there. That resulted in a restraining order and moving in with April, which led to meeting the turtles and led to meeting someone who made you so happy. It was the best choice you had made in a long time. It's been nearly 2 years since then, he felt like a distant memory behind you.

You're quick to put your card key to the door panel and swing it open, shoes clicking onto the linoleum when you get in. The elevator was straight across from the main door. All you had to do was get in, and you'd be a hallway away from your apartment. Pressing the button, you wait, watching the numbers above the door dwindle down as they come to the lobby and ding open. Stepping in, the overhead light is dim, having not been changed in who knows how long, and the buttons are worn, but you know which is yours.

You expect the doors to shut, but a hand shoots out and stops them, and in a dark hood and a ball cap, your ex's face pops up.

"Y/n?" He's not even waiting before he wedges himself in through the barely opened doors. Your stomach drops, and a heavy weight makes you nauseous as your tongue feels cemented to the top of your mouth. He's standing on the opposite side of the elevator, at least, but you're thumbing your phone in your pocket. "Hope you don't mind, I followed behind you when you opened the door."

What?

Had you been so careless not to notice him right there??

"You were behind me?" It comes out as even as you can make it, a little breathless from anxiety. He nods like it's the most casual thing in the world, and the elevator doors are sliding shut. Like the heavy gates to some cage, they squeak, and your center of gravity feels off as it lifts."Yeah," He shuffles a bit, hands in his pockets. "I had to wait for you at work and everything to figure out where you were staying. You're pretty hard to find." He double takes when you do, noticing your panicked state and defensively raises his hands. "But it was just so I could talk to you! I really wanna work things out babe…"

"I don't!" Your voice cracks, and he looks stunned, so you gulp a breath down and speak again. "We are done. We have been done, I don't know why, why you at all thought it was okay to come find me li-" He's coming towards you and it makes you flinch, shoulders pressed into the corner of this suddenly very too tiny elevator. He doesn't touch you, just crowds, body blocking your line of sight from the elevator panel and doors.

"Y/n, liten to me…" You're already shaking your head and trembling hands reach up, leaving your phone in your pocket, just in the hopes to maybe keep space between you both. That makes him sneer. A rough hand tries to knock them away, but you yank away, trying to slide past him. "Y/n!"

"No! I don't want to!" You hate that you're getting panicked so easy. But he had been so cruel the last time you had seen him, had left you there to pick yourself up while he went out without you. You couldn't do it anymore. And now that he's in front of you again, it's like you're a rabbit in the jaw of some hunting dog. Raised and bred by their hunting, neglectful fathers, and sad, pushover mothers to be hateful and harmful to women. A cycle that you had repeated onto you, a flower squashed in some book about war, you can't let it happen again.

You try to turn away from him and pull your phone out but freeze as the elevator stops, the emergency alarm beeping from overhead. "I said listen to me, Y/n."You barely get to turn and see that he had pushed it before knuckles meet your face, and you crumple away from him, phone skidding across the small floor. You feel like you're blabbering as you beg for a second to catch yourself. "Wait, wait, please -"

"I don't know why you're acting like such a major bitch." He's crouching down, grabbing your ankles, trying to drag you to him. "I did a lot for you, I was the reason you even had friends, even got your job." You sober up quickly when you feel yourself coming closer to him, fingers digging into the floor to drag and lift yourself. Those few self-defense lessons Leo had given you wouldn't be for naught.You've gotta get to your phone and get out of here.

—

"Hey, where's Y/n? She was supposed to be here a couple of minutes ago, right?" April wonders, leaning against the counter as she watches the queso dip heat in the microwave. The brothers sit in the living room, watching as Raph indecisively scrolls through what movie they'd play in the background. Mikey is stacking the game boxes ridiculously high in one corner while Leo lazily scrolls on his phone. Donnie is the only one to lean back and answer her, though.

"Yeah, she texted me earlier and said she was close, so I'm assuming it'll be another minute or two." A toilet flushes, and Casey walks out from the hall, adjusting his pants.

"What are we talking about?" He comes into the open kitchen with April snuggling up to her side. "Y/n isn't here yet. Did you wash your hands?" He freezes awkwardly and backs up, sheepishly moving to the kitchen sink.

"Eeew, Case C'mon.""I bet if you ask those four, they're not washing their hands." April's face pinches up, but Donnie snorts. "I don't know, Leo is pretty anal about that kind of stuff."

April can hear Mikey and Raph giggling before they even open their mouths, and she can't help but smile herself. "Okay, you guys are officially nasty!"

Everyone laughs, carefree, and floating out the window.

—

You're panting. This elevator feels like a grave to you, buried under cement and hidden from everyone. Your phone sits, cracked in between you both. Your eye feels like it's throbbing, blood drips down your nose, and you taste it in your mouth. He has scratches on his cheek, and a part of his hair is ugily skewed from being pulled. When he had gotten ahold of your ankles, you had kicked out of them, but he was quick to lunge and slam his fists down on you.

You had done everything you could, kicked your knees up into his stomach, and slid yourself away. You had tried picking your phone up again, hands fumbling, but he knocked it from you. Crowding you again, hands going into your hair and yanking to the point it brings tears to your eyes, you take a hand and slash at him, coming up again to pull his own hair. He had a grip on you, though, shaking you violently by your hair and standing you both up. His other hand punched at your face again with no direction. One hit collided with your eye, directly into the lens. You hear your glasses crack, and the plastic pinches your nose and the soft skin of your eyebrow.

"All you had to do was hear me out!" Spittle hits your face, head whooshing, and you can barely hear him with all this sound. The emergency alarm sounds louder than it had before, thrumming in your ears and flooding your senses. And in slow motion, you're colliding with the wall of the elevator, body slammed against metal. "Why are you so fucking dense! You never learn!"

It's like a sleeper agent coming to life when you hear that phrase. The last thing he had said to you the last time he had seen you, what you had hoped was the last time.

"GET OFF ME!"

With a sudden rush, you're awkwardly hiking up your leg and shooting it straight at his gut. Your work shoes must've hurt because he's stumbling back, hand releasing your hair.

This is what leads to you both standing across from each other. Your phone, in the middle, the button to get the elevator moving beside him, nothing beside you. The choice you had to make, the levels of importance. To get this elevator moving brought you closer to home, to get your phone would let your friends know you needed help.You don't even give him a chance to open his mouth before you're jumping for the elevator panel.

You throw yourself against it, crying out as his arms wrap around you, throwing you down onto the floor. You wilt for a second, thinking you had wasted it as he grabs at your clothes, a seam ripping as he drags you again, but victoriously, the alarm stops and the elevator is in motion once more.

"You bitch!" He's staggering to get up and press it again, the elevator moving throws him off balance. And you, with vindication,kick the back of his knee and watch him stumble nose-first into the railing.

"Siri!" You shout, and the chime rings, cutting the moment of silence, and he's whipping around. The first name that comes out of your mouth, the one you had waited for all day, your purple light in that dark tunnel. "Call Donatello!"

…

"Calling Michelangelo!" Good enough!Your phone is ringing when a punch lands on your ribs. The pain makes your whole torso ache. You still have to fight, to shout, you wouldn't lie down again, and this time you wouldn't be alone picking up pieces of yourself, you were not gonna be left broken. You hear the phone pick up, Mikey's happy 'Sup Gurl!' Murmurs from the phone, and you gasp, gathering the air in this little space…And scream.

—

Things had started getting set up, Leo insisting they pull out a game so when Y/n got here, the ball would be rolling. They're all sitting around the coffee table, clue is set up, and everyone is picking pieces.

"I just don't understand why you won't let me have Mrs. Peacock." Leo fusses, looking sourly at the Reverand Greene pawn he's holding.

"The only reason is because Y/n likes her," Donnie insists and cutely makes Professor Plum and Mrs. Peacock touch faces, his oldest brother stares the action down, unamused. "It'd be unfair to leave her with leftover characters just because she's running a little late."

"Uh huh, sure," Mikey teases, fiddling with his own pawn. "Definitely not because you're thinking that's you two in another life."

"That's not plausible," Donnie snarks, "We're far more compatible than Professor Plum and Mrs. Peacock. We just like these two.

"My Bubblegum by Rasheeda starts up, coming from Mikey's pocket.

"There is no way that's your ringtone!" April giggles, watching as Casey dances in his seat to the music. Mikey is cheesing, glad it's getting recognized.

"Well, duh! It's trending right now," Taking a quick peek at his phone has him sitting up, though. "Uh oh Don, it's your snookums, think she changed her mind on which brother is the best?" He's waggling his brows for show as Donnie rolls his eyes, big hands still pressing Mrs. Peacock and Professor Plum together. Mikey answers the phone on speaker phone and with a quick "Sup Gurl!" And before he can follow up asking where she's at, her scream cuts through the speaker, shrill and frantic.

Everyone is suddenly standing, the air tenses as some man is shouting profanities at her, and dull thuds can be heard.

"Where the hell is she?" Raphael asks, but Donnie is already looking concerned at a screen with a dot flashing on it."She's here." He tries, eyes roving over nothing, trying to think of any spaces there are, but a ding reaches over her struggling, and the dots connect.

"The elevator!" April confirms, having heard the ding every day coming home. It was hard to miss. Leo starts to grab his sheathed katanas, already thinking of how to get access."Alright, we need to find a way to get into the elevator shaft, if we can get the dro- "

He doesn't even get to finish before Donnie is racing right out the front door and into the hallway. His brother's call behind him, warning him of the risk he's taking, but they don't deny following after him, Casey tailing to watch any doors that may open.

He can see before he touches the door that the elevator has reached its floor, but before the doors slide open, there's a thud, and the emergency alarm blares from it again. Donnie gives it no time before he's taking both his hands and wedging his fingers through the elevator door. What would've taken two or three men to open only took him, with barely any strain, and the sight before him makes his vision spotty.

—

That call had been your saving grace. The silence on his end showed you they had understood. The pain is nothing to the relief in that moment, his hand around your neck as the other reaches behind him and slams into the emergency button again. This time, the lights go off, and the strain on the elevator makes the overhead bulbs pop.

You fear the fight you'd have to put up in the dark, weakly kicking your feet, his hand trying to tighten around your neck, but then you hear this loud groan. A sliver of light peaks through where the doors are, and in a sense of urgency, your ex pushes off of you and separates himself. He's already stammering out some excuse as you lie there trying to catch your breath, but whatever he sees has him gasping.

"Wh, what the fuck!" His voice goes up an octave, face drained of color, the scratch marks on his face now starkly red. Your head feels heavy, flat on your back knees still hiked up in defense, you try with the last bit of your strength and turn to see.

Donnie, with the hall lights shining on his back, looks objectively terrifying and threatening. To anyone, he would be considered a monster, but to you, it was, again, that purple light in the dark tunnel.

He doesn't even pay mind to the other person in there with you, crouching down to gently lift you to your knees and beckon over some of his brothers.

"You did so good," He gently murmurs, brushing back your hair and fretting over your broken glasses, taking them off your face and pocketing them. Michelangelo comes behind him, hands reaching to guide you out, but you feel hesitant leaving Donnie, your body still shaking. "I'll handle the rest, Dove. They've got you."

That gentle nudge convinces you to move into Michelangelo's arms, being lifted and carried past a rather calm Leonardo, Raphael, and Casey, who almost look like they're holding post in the hallway. April meets you at her door, rushing Mikey in and racing for her first aid kit. You feel numb, like the energy was sucked from you, but Mikey still fidgets with your clothes, trying to imitate the way Donnie had pet your hair back.

"Don't worry, angel, it's gonna get handled, your ol' Donnie's on it." And all you can do is nod and breathe, the pain slowly growing as that adrenaline and fear fade away. April is coming back with a mess of a box when you see it, beyond the open doorway. An old man is shutting his door.

—

He watches as Michelangelo takes her back down the hall and doesn't turn back until they're both out of sight. He looks at his two older brothers, at Casey, who all nod."Do what you've gotta do." Raphael, ever the one to encourage a fight. But Leonardo looks like he's ready to agree.

He's about to speak, but a door creaks open, the one across from April's, where an old man peeks out to see what the noise is about. He freezes for a second, seeing this scuffed up guy in the elevator, but then he sees Y/n crying, sitting in sight of the doorway of April's apartment, looking worse.It doesn't take a man long to understand what's happening here. He knows Casey and April, knows their good character, and whatever they let happen with these men must be for good reason

."Have a good evening, boys, yeah?" And he shuts the door, doesn't even bother to lock the door, and it's just them again.

That was his cue.

Donnie stands to his full height, looking down at this shaking leaf, and takes a looming step onto the elevator. It creaks a little under his weight, dipping just an inch past being level with the floor, and reverently, Donnie leans over to the panel and turns the emergency alarm off. The Guy must realize what he's trying to do, and scrambles, trying to bolt out, but he's snatched up by Donatello, harshly gagging as the collar of his shirt chokes him. The elevator dings, yet the light doesn't come on, and as the doors are shutting, Donnie brings this guy right to the front of him, peering down. "Let's see if you can last as many floors as she did."

Darkness envelopes both of them.

[ray-jaykub]

*cough* Take this *cough*

There had been many moments in Leo's life where he had been unprepared for the beauty of womanhood. His first time seeing them dance along the television screen, the disney princesses that Mikey would put on just to forget about. An innocent appreciation, sweet and gentle, where now that he's older, he laughs at himself for being so enamored.

In his early teenage years, where suddenly a girl who was pretty had much more weight to it than it used to. That quiet and wistful sighing he and his brothers would release at any glimpse of girlhood. Never verbalizing their wish to feel that around them, in their home that is masculine and loud, whether with anger amongst each other or the laughter that they sometimes worry could be heard from far underground. In his later teenage years, where unlike his younger brothers, who would have posters of pretty women, he would instead read and, in his own mind, curate that feminine energy into something shaped. She'd have no face, as much as he wished for one, but it had felt whatever features he'd give her, none could do it justice.

When April comes into their lives, he realizes that while he wishes for love, a sister is enough. Suddenly, but not drastically, the cement alcove that he and his family had resided in finally had that energy they had craved. Fairy lights in the dark corners, a throw blanket that doesn't fit over them, but holds so much warmth, a warm candle, a nice smelling bathroom. It had become their new way, embraced, and ecstatic for some concept of normal. 

Over time, coming into adulthood, they gain new friends. Casey, who would be considered Raphael's soulmate (he had been pushed for saying that), Vern, who was not so much their friend as April’s…. And most recently, if a year can be considered recently, Y/n.

She had been something 10 fold to April's gentleness. A sweet scent follows her everywhere she goes. Cute shoes that clicked. Hair that flounces with every movement of her. He had never thought that innocent admiration would come back, but it had. Nestled deep within him, cracking from its shell and sprouting slowly.

Truly, he had seen her as yet another addition to this found family, nothing more, nothing less. The admiration would sit, subservient and watching, appreciating the presence of her and basking in that sweet smell that would follow. It really wasn't meant to be anything. He swears by it.

That was until she had thrown her leg at him, a smile so big it could crack her face. The heel of her foot props up on his leg, digging into the meat of his thigh to keep her balance, and Leo can't help but linger on the curve of her foot, the way her ankle isn't even as thick as his wrist. But quickly, he looks up at where she stands, smiling at him, and suddenly that admiration doesn't feel like it did from when he was a child.She must notice his confusion and flourish her hand towards her leg.

“Feel it, I just shaved, and I want someone to appreciate it!” And suddenly, he notices her hair is wet, a t-shirt hanging off her shoulder, and those cute gingham shorts that she had gotten herself as a little treat the day she got that job.

“...Feel?” He parrots back at her, so zoned in on her that he doesn't bother to look back when he hears Michelangelo giggle. She nods encouragingly, “Yeah, feel, Leo.”

He looks back down at that leg, following the curve of her thigh and the meat of her calf, seeing how the skin shines compared to the scales on his forearm. Had she done this earlier in the year when she was still new, he would've politely declined, found some decorum, and excuse himself. But now, as he looks at the leg resting upon his own, he can't help but swallow that lump in his throat.

“What's wrong with you fearless? It's not like her leg is gonna bite at you.” Raph jests, leaned back in the one recliner they had. 

“If you don't feel, I will.” the second oldest muses, and suddenly Leo feels threatened, and puts a possessive hand around her ankle. It stays, frozen, and again, he looks up at her, and she looks down at him, and that admiring turns into exactly what he fears it would. A burning in his chest that drops down to his stomach as his big hand smoothly rubs up her shin, cupping her knee, and down her leg again, his thumb resting on the bine that juts from her ankle.

Leo had never known what true strength was, not until now, when he has to lift his hand from her leg and hold in that same wistful sigh like when he was a teenager and just nod. He doesn't even look at her leg, blue eyes boring into her face, a distraction from temptation. 

“Yes, very nice.” He curtly affirms, and the sad pout on her face that follows makes that warmth in his stomach burn just a little hotter. “That's it? Just nice?” She asks dejectedly, taking her leg back and standing to her full height. “Not ‘amazing!’ Or ‘wow so smooth'?”

“Amazing, wow so smooth.” He spits out robotically and realizes he must've sounded stupid with how his two younger brothers laugh. Y/n huffs, obviously biting the inside of her cheek to stop from smiling. “Thank you” She murmers, and for a split second Leo wonders if that's shyness he hears, her cheeks pink. And as she walks off, his eyes follow, and that admiration for womanhood, femininity, turns into a deep want for just one. And she's got smooth legs and cute gingham shorts on.

[ray-jaykub]

I NEED HIM SO BAD

This has been in the back of my mind for a while now. So I figured I’d try getting it out. While this doesn’t mean I’m “back” back, it doesn’t mean the few good folk on here shouldn’t (hopefully) enjoy this. For the foreseeable future I don’t feel like I’ll be taking request but you can maybe catch my own doings here and there.

But on with the show.

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

You feel you’ll go out of your mind at this rate.

All the staring.

The quiet little gestures.

His passive resistance.

You’ve remained glued to your spot for so long. Hoping that maybe somewhere between weeks in the months of the years you’ve known him, that he’d crack.

Leonardo doesn’t crack easily you’ve gathered.

He hardly moves. He doesn’t allow his eyes to betray him. His hands remain within eyesight, but it’s in the subtle clench of his knuckles. The way his hands ball up and quickly stretch exposing the veins.

While he smiles sweetly, almost submissively at the sound of your voice. You know he doesn’t show this to just anybody. He doesn’t allow himself the luxury but god dammit, you can see that he wants to drink you in.

You’re liquor to him, addicting and burning.

You’re oil to him, never quite mixed with the water he floats upon.

You’re pornography to him, a hidden treasure for when he’s too far gone.

So why does it ache so much to open your mouth? To make a move. To peel back that layer of protection he’s been so steadfast in building.

Because he could still reject.

He could push away your pulling aura.

So when you stand next to him during the group picture April insisted on taking. Feeling the cold of his skin so close to your arm. Your little hairs sticking out to somehow feel something of his. You don’t think, don’t linger on the possibility of rejection. Because when your pinky reaches for his palm, gently caressing his hand, begging for permission you somehow only whisper in your mind…

You hold back the gasp as his own finger wraps around yours.

It’s tentative and charged with electricity.

He’s a knife.

You chance a look at him from the corner of your eye and watch his throat bob. The tension in his broad shoulders, the shakiness of his irises. The fight to turn and stare right back at you, to cut you with his blue eyes and inquire if his fantasies have become fact for once.

When you feel an arm around your shoulders as everyone screams cheese, it takes your entire will to muster your designer smile. Leo seems to do the same, a defeated retreat from the prize.

You still feel him weeks later. The way the top of his hand rubbed against your own.

What you’d give to have that palm right now between your legs, trying to rush the blood to your brain and drowning you in the ecstasy he could give. You wonder if he’s done the same? Have you driven him insane all these months? Made him question every waking moment of his life?

Are his pretty beaten hands wrapped around himself right now?

Is he begin for you?

Is he dying for you?

Somehow this all comes to fruition one evening. Another night with your friends. Celebrating another big win.

You get sent to the supply closet to get something (because at this point you forgot what) and as you rummage through a box, that tiny bulb swinging around you like a halo. You feel that rush when the door opens.

A hand reaching and gripping the back of your neck and pulling.

Lips.

At the shell of your ear.

You gasp.

Leo feels mortification sink deep.

But before he allows the logical side to quick in, you grip the fabric of his pant leg.

“Don’t-“ you hold him there, silently begging him.

Leo let’s out a breath he’s been holding since his feet took him to you.

Several heartbeats pass, tension building and swirling around both your souls. Somewhere between bravery and madness you grab those hands press those palms around you.

And hold on for dear life.

Presses you against himself like a security blanket. Greedily inhales and exhales you. You’re shaking but god Leo is shaking worse.

He slides down you, comes to his knees and watches you turn around his embrace and watch him as he lets his vices win this time.

It’s the way those eyes look up at you, apologetically, fascinated, tormented.

His stomach drops when you cup his face, fear overwritten his features.

He looks weak, he knows it.

But to you? To you he’s the most beautiful creature. Gentle features, eyes as blue as the sky. Lips surprisingly warm, hesitant and yet needy. He’s kissing back just as your hands run across his cheeks and neck. Lips molding, desperation kicking in because now he’s had a taste. Now he knows what paradise tastes like.

His hands fall to your hips, gripping as he leans up more, still tall enough on his knees for your comfort. When he feels your moan, captures it inside his throat; he knows he’s done for.

Weakened by you.

Overwhelmed by you.

He can hear himself panting, the blood inside his veins pumping. How your sounds pick up the more he kisses you back.

You smile against the corner of his mouth as he grabs your waist and stands up with you in his arms. The contents inside the supply closet rattle to the ground but his hold is bruising and the prospect of his hand marked on your flesh make you euphoric.

Leo’s tongue and yours.

His nails digging into your rear, yours at his neck.

His teeth meet your bottom lip.

He’s hard and rubbing against the spot of your underwear.

You should stop, lead him into something more understandable.

But the greedy little creature inside of you chants ‘more!’ Just as he moans into your mouth for the twentieth time. A sound hitches in the back of your throat when you feel something warm gush and connect with your wetness.

You’re doing this to him.

You’re causing this.

He’s cumming for YOU.

That desperate point of no return is there, the two of your skating down it. His kissing is erratic and out of sync because his eyes are going wide.

His locked to your own blown out pupils.

He wants to apologize, to stop but your hips just rubbed up against him just as you start to cum. His name seeping out of your wet parten lips.

The haze will clear.

The mess will remain.

But what will you say?

What will he say?

[ray-jaykub]

Random Turtle Thoughts (ongoing)

(Contains NSFW - All Characters Always Aged Up)

Posts #1 thru #50

(colors do not necessarily reflect who the story is about)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20

21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29

30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40

41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50

[ray-jaykub]

I'm never on here anymore, I don't write much at all but I still am super involved with TMNT and my love for it will continue on more than likely forever.

That being said...

If you voted for Trump, if you stand by trump's side, if you didn't vote at all (because this is an 18+ page, you should be old enough to vote, if you're american) then get. The. Fuck. Off. My. Page.

Unfollow me, block me, leave a comment to tell me to block you, because I will not be affiliated. I will not sit quietly. And I will NOT treat it like it's nothing. You vote for Trump, you vote against the progress of our country. You voted against me. You voted against my dearest friends. Against yourself if you are a woman, person of color, poor.

And let me tell this to any tmnt fans that did vote for Trump. Leonardo would not like you, Raphael would not like you, Donatello would not like you, Michelangelo would NOT like you! Because you voted for the guy that'd endorse and pardon the shredder 💀 April and casey wouldn't like you, Master Splinter wouldn't like you. Remember that.

Thats all I have to say, I'm not tagging this as anything bc its meant to reach the people that follow me and that's it.

[ray-jaykub]

Yakuza leo, my beloved

Happy Halloween

A bloody version and unbloody version for all you lovelies

[ray-jaykub]

AAAAAAHHHHH AHAHAHA OH MA GOD

For the Casey and Raphael stans

"You look better with my hands around your neck."

"You're mine."

Always coming in clutch with what I’m craving to do 🖤🖤🖤

For reference look up John Morrison as Casey Jones and that is MY Casey (Steven can eat a dick)

Rasey stans I hope y’all enjoy 🫡

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

Casey felt that his brain had liquified the second Raphael had grabbed his thighs to push them apart.

He swore he could hear his brain matter bubble in one last heroic attempt to shoot a message to his body.

But in fact it didn’t, all it managed was for something incoherent to slip from his lips.

Raphael looked good between his legs.

Raphael looked downright beautiful with his mouth stuffed.

Raphael looked even more imposing with a large green mitt pressing down on Casey’s sternum.

Casey’s hips stuttered, eyes unable to remain still, too busy visiting the place that once housed his brain.

“Ra—aph,” Good a coherent name, we’re making progress.

Raphael’s green eyes found him, a sort of prideful gleam adorned his irises when he realsed Casey’s leaking cock with a resounding pop.

What was he trying to say again?

“Yeh, babe?” Raphael lazily stroked Casey’s cock, the natural pink now an angry painful red. He tried swallowing, give his body a chance to do a hard reset and maybe get some of his fucking factory settings to do anything.

But fucking Raphael kept fucking lazily stroking him.

He didn’t want to beg, he’d rather draw blood than beg…

“Ya know I can finish you off like this? I’ve done it before.” Raph tightened his hand just to simply drive the point further. Which only served to make Casey honest to goodness whine pathetically. “Eh— Wheres the fun in that?” His hips do another jerk, chasing the friction in hopes of finding some relief.

Raph noticed.

God, he noticed.

Three free fingers found his neck, gripped his throat in a way that only screamed possessive. Raph tightened his hold, enough to make Casey’s cheeks turn pink.

From lack of blood flow or embarrassment?

Who knew.

Casey’s eyes once again betrayed him, the half roll they did when Raph’s hand began to stroke him faster only serving to prove a point.

“You look better with my hands around your neck, Jones.” Raph’s baritone spoke, the vibration rattling inside of Casey’s chest.

When he felt something thick and wet at his hole, when he felt that initial push that made him gasp and seek air, when Raph was nestled inside of him he felt that if he breathed wrong he’d cum.

The hold on his neck slackened just enough for a reprieve but it served little purpose as Raph gave that first harsh thrust.

“oh—fuuuck,” Casey whimpered, voice shakey and throat raw.

Raph gave another short but hard thrust, purposeful, demanding. He wanted Casey to know he was causing him to crumble.

“I-I’m fucking cl-close…” Casey muttered, eyes dazed, each force of Raph’s thrusts making him babel.

“Already?” Smug bastard, Raph really had him and there was nothing he could do as he continued to fall apart around Raph’s cock.

Casey gripped the sheets when Raph bended him past his breaking point. He wanted to get closer, close enough to whisper in Casey’s ear.

“You’re mine, Jones, all fucking mine.” Raph bit down on his neck. Hard enough to make him shout.

Casey only saw white when he came.

[ray-jaykub]

if you're still taking requests, can i get 15 with a possessive and needy leo and fem reader, pretty please?

Anon, this is too perfect to pass up so why not.

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

There was a look to him when he arrived that night, something that spoke volumes when he had kissed you hello.

Leo wasn’t one to allow his feelings to get the better of him, but tonight felt different, tonight he didn’t want to allow his training, his responsibilities dictate him. He had one goal in mind, and it came in the shape of you.

So when he had kissed down your neck, when he had backed you up against the wall of your living room, you knew there wouldn’t be much pleasantries.

His hands had roughly gripped your waist, yanked you close to his strong body and with just one breathy grunt he’d expressed it, "You're mine."

He’d made sure to lay an exclamation point to his words by shoving your pants down. Even as your face shyly looked away, he’d made sure to find your eyes when the palm of his hand found your warm core.

“You don’t believe me?” He muttered softly against your lips.

Your mouth took shape of something, some semblance of a response but it was futile when he began to rub you. A pathetic little squeak escapes your lips, he took too much pleasure in that.

Even more so when pushed a finger into your wet heat, began to pump in and out.

“Say it, come on, before you can’t even speak anymore.” He whispered it against your ear, crooking a finger just so make you tighten around the digit.

“Leo—oh, oh…” He wasn’t wrong, talking was quickly becoming a weak point for you.

When Leo pushed deep enough, until he could press his palm against your clit, that’s when you knew there was no way this could go in your favor.

“What are you?” He kissed your lips, gentle, enough to leave you wanting.

“I’m— y-yours…” You breathed out, eyes fluttering close as your climaxes fast approached.

When Leo’s other hand wrapped around your throat, thumb caressing with authority, his smirk was enough to knock the air out of you.

“All miiiiine” His hand thrusted quicker, obscene wet sounds mixing with your moans.

[ray-jaykub]

DAYUM

Oh! Oh! Mikey deserves some love 🥺 how aboooout... 15 and 23 with fem!reader? 😏 if you're up for it c: (love all of your works btw you're one of my inspirations)

You know I love this for my boy Mike! Also that means a lot to me! I’m glad my silly little stories can bring so much joy 🖤

Rated explicit (18+ only)

"Don't be gentle with me—I like it when you're rough."

He felt that small animalistic prickling hit his veins the second you said it. Because for Mikey, being rough wasn’t exactly necessary but not unwanted.

It was the way your hips met up towards his own in a roll that fried his brain. In the way your pretty hands ran up his plastron and found his chain and tugged.

He was taken with how pretty your skin looked, flushed and sweaty and just the way your walls kept hugging his dick.

Urging him to let loose.

To really make you his.

You don’t have much time to register when he pulls out, the emptiness enough to make you whine but it’s when he flips you onto your stomach that you bite your lip.

It’s the way his hands lift your hips and push your upper back onto the mattress, the burn of the position really making the moment all the more delightful. Something smart was about to leave your lips when you feel him push into you with a grunt that makes your toes curl.

“You’re so tight like this for me baby, so so good—“ Mikey rolls his hips, slowly testing the waters and you want to remind him of your previous statement.

But when his hand wraps around the back of your neck to keep you in place, to absolutely ravish you…

To simply fuck you.

You know your desires did not fall on deaf ears.

Your hands don’t know where to go but Mikey seems to have plans because the stuff hold on your neck disappears in turn to grabs both your forearms to pin them on your back. “Oh—FUCK!” Your moans are muffled by the sheets and the ache slithers into that delicious burn. Mikey’s thrust aren’t letting up and that persistent plap plap plap sound has you under a spell.

“That’s what my girl wanted, huh?” He emphasized his cockiness with another sharp thrust. It was enough to make you squeak. When he yanked you up by the end and wrapped his own around your midsection your head fell against his shoulder.

Mikey attached his mouth to your neck, bit the sensitive flesh enough to make you moan.

Enough to leave a red mark.

“You’re mine,” He whispered nearly drunkenly against your neck.

When his finger found your clit, all you could do was bite back a moan.

[ray-jaykub]

AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH PLEASE, DONNIE ONE CHANCE 😫

If i may, can i ask for a dom (or just assertive)!Donnie x afab (she/her) with #1 and #6? ❤️ if not, that's completely fine!

Listen ano this is my BREAD AND BUTTER. So I hope you enjoy the tall lad in a more assertive stance.

Rated explicit (18+ only)

Your mouth felt dry, head hanging off the end of the bed as you tried to collect your thoughts.

But it seemed that Donnie didn’t have plans for that.

Considering he’d just pulled another orgasm out of you via those delightful hands of his. He had every intention of continuing his torture and while it was starting to ache (but deliciously so) you really were hoping he’d grab you and bend you into his liking.

From your upside down view he looked justas pretty. He was after all complying with one of your fantasies. You wanted a rougher touch tonight, to quote unquote ‘be manhadled’ by him.

While Donnie would never in a lifetime hurt you, he also wasn’t one to deny your needs.

A gentle tap to your face made your mind land back to reality. “Making me repeat myself a lot today darling,” His thumb found your bottom lip, pushed the digit inside.

“Should I put your mouth to use then?” Those pretty eyes of his looked so bright in your softly lit room.

You nodded, lips secured around his thumb.

“I don’t quite believe you, maybe you should use your words for once, hm?” He pulled his thumb out, enjoyed your frown.

Your hands flew up to grab the belt loops of his pants but he stopped you.

“I want to hear you beg.” Came his soft but determined command, almost whispered into the thick hot air. You liked how easily one hand engulfed both your wrist, you licked your lips slow with every intention of egging him on.

“Please, please I want it—I want you to fuck my mouth,” Your face felt on fire and while your resolve didn’t diminish, the hint of embarrassment was enough to make him smile.

Donnie leaned up, made a full god damn show of unbuckling his belt and slipping his pants past his thighs. Just as you were ready to turn he pushed you back on the bed. “I didn’t say move, did I?” He rested a knee next to your head and-

Oh.

Oh boy.

“Suck on it.” Was his simple demand. The shiny head of his cock was dripping a steady stream of pre-cum and whatever that natural lubricant of his was. Just was you lifted your head enough to meet him, he pushed in.

Gagged you.

His eyes went just the tiniest bit dark.

“Fuck— you’re so pretty when I use you.” Oh fuck did he really have to make your knees push together with that?

When he thrusted again, you tried your best to keep your throat closed, when he thrusted again and placed a hand on your chest to grope your breast, you moaned around him.

When he kept thrusting, thrusting, thrusting…

“I—Love—to—use you” He emphasized with each move.

[ray-jaykub]

I love you too Jay 😭 thanks for feeding into our deep dark thoughts andhandhamdhsns

The leo one, is the foot one...

“Wait—uh—do…do that again.”

“Ah, fuck.”

We made it to the big leagues, I’m officially realising this into the void. I love you Ray 🖤

Rated Mature (18+ only)

Your lips melted against his own, the sensation of his tongue slipping inside of your mouth making you grind against him.

Leo’s hands had drifted to your lower back, strong hands slipping to your rear to grab at the soft flesh.

The moan that went into his mouth fed him.

You’d been at it for a little while now, your knees protesting against the rough fabric of your old couch. With one final peck and a smirk you told him to give you a second.

“Gotta invest in a better couch, shits killing my knees,” Leo regretfully let you go, hands itching to get you back.

“I happen to think it’s cozy, but that’s just my opinion.” He lifted his hips, his dick was digging to the side of his thigh, god why were you so far away.

With a grin he reached for you again. You placed a foot between his legs. “Ah ah, be good now I’m just getting the blood back to my legs.” You smiled, Leo’s eyes watched your foot press against his clothed crotch.

He swallowed.

Audibly.

“You okay there, Blue-“ You were just about to move your foot when his hand gripped your calf. “Wait—uh—do…do that again.” He whispered so softly, eyes unable to meet your own.

You arched an eyebrow, stifled a giggle.

“Oh Leo, do we have a fo-“

“Please don’t make fun of me…”

You smiled, dug the arch of your foot against his crotch, hard enough to make his hips arch, enough to shut his eyes and pressed his lips tightly together.

When you rubbed, when you felt his dick jump, heard that shaky ‘ah, fuck’, well let’s just say, you could get behind this if he looked this turned on.