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piedinthepiper · 2 months

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Prima Ballerina ˖ ⊹

Yandere!Jimin x ballerina!reader

Summary: What’s the difference between a great ballerina and the greatest ballerina? The answer is Park Jimin. And he had his eyes on you in more than a professional way.

Warnings: heavy dubcon, Jimin is super cocky and thinks he knows everything (misogyny?), cursing, corruption, Jimin is also a creep, age gap (reader is of legal age), stalking (non descriptive), smut

Wc: 4.3k

A/n: Written for this request. I love black swan and ballet so I had to do this! Hope you enjoy! Don’t be a silent reader! Like, repost and comment!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Another disclaimer: I know nothing about ballet except for whatever ballet they show in the Barbie movies. Everything is off Google, so some technical terms and such might be incorrect.

You did a final jump before the dramatic music came to an end. His eyes were piercing through you. Watching your every movement, your every step, your every breath. But he watched you all, you thought to yourself. Everybody had to be perfect for the premiere of Swan lake. The hardest and most demanding ballet you had ever danced in your career. The choreography was almost impossible. So Mr. Park had yet again kept you there for hours overtime, and all of you were exhausted.

“Agh, my feet hurt. I hope this was the last round.��

Your friend, Maria, whispered to you. You smiled at her and was about to answer, when a loud clap was heard throughout the room. It silenced everyone.

“Ms. Sanderson, do you have something to tell the company?”

Mr. Park locked eyes with her. Staring her down from across the room like a predator. She looked a bit tongue tied for a second.

“Ehm- no. No, Mr. Park.”

He nodded at her answer.

“I do think I heard complaining back there, are you sure you didn’t say anything?”

She looked down to the floor and carefully shook her head.

“I don’t believe you, you’re pathetic. Out of my studio!”

He yelled at her and pointed a sharp finger towards the exit. Her eyes continued to stay on the floor. Accepting her fate.

“I said it!”

You yelled back and raised your hand. His eyes turned back to you.

“Bold of you, Ms. y/l/n. Thanks to you all the swans have to practice for another hour. The rest are dismissed.”

The room was filled with sighs and groans.

“Ok, let’s make that two.”

No one uttered a single word, afraid that the time would get longer.

“That’s what I thought. You, come with me.”

He briefly pointed at you, before he started to walk out of the practice room.

“The rest of you can take a 10 minute break.”

Maria looked at you with a apologetic look.

“Thank you, y/n.”

She said and grabbed your hand. You gave her a small smile. Of course you would stand up for her. She was your best friend in the company.

“Yeah, thanks a lot y/n.”

One of the other girls said sarcastically. You didn’t pay it any mind, you would also be furious if someone made you stay two hours overtime when you already were on overtime. You grabbed your leg warmers.

“No worries, you know I got you.”

You comforted Maria, before you started walking towards the exit. You knew Mr. Park went to his office. It wasn’t your first time being scolded.

“Sit down.”

He said once you entered. He was already sitting behind his desk. You sat down opposite of him, leaning down to slide into your leg warmers.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Park.”

You started off with. Trying to sound as apologetic as possible. He sighed.

“Do you think I do this for fun, y/n?”

You got up from your crouched position and looked him in the eyes.

“No I don’t.”

He was one of the best ballet teachers and directors in the whole world. It was obviously an honour just to be able to dance for him. But you knew he had a soft spot for you for some reason. That’s why you were comfortable taking Maria’s place.

“I would much rather be at home as well, relaxing and eating a good meal. But there would be no Swan lake, and there would be no good ballerinas without me.”

He pulled his hand through his black hair in stress. It was slicked back like usual, but throughout the day a few strands had loosened.

“If everyone stopped practicing at five o’clock like scheduled, the premiere would be nothing but chaos. Do you understand that, y/n?”

You nodded. He looked you up and down for a second. Taking in your form. He slowly got up and walked towards you. He grabbed your chin harshly, making you look back up at him.

“I’ve been observing you for the last days, you truly are far too beautiful and talented to be just a swan.”

You raised your eyebrows at his sudden compliment.

“You’re prima ballerina material, for sure.”

His hand slid to the side of your face, cupping your jaw.

“Too bad I have to fire you.”

“What?!”

Your eyebrows crossed as you shook your head out of his grip. His hand went into his pocket, making him look surprisingly relaxed.

“The two of us, let alone the entire company, knows that this isn’t your first time being sent to my office.”

You looked at him in shock. You couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“If I don’t give you the consequences, it’s going to look suspicious.”

You shook your head. He was going to fire you just because something as simple as complaining?

“You can’t do that.”

“I’ll do whatever I want with my ballerinas.”

He smirked again, before walking to stand right in front of you. You looked up and down his long body. Before looking back at him with your most innocent, but still sultry eyes.

“Please don’t fire me, Mr. Park. You wouldn’t do that to me would you?”

He cocked his head at your plea. Scanning you up and down yet again. He had a puzzled look on his face.

“Don’t test me.”

You grabbed his hand as you fell down to your knees. You knew he liked it when you begged. And since this was a life or death situation for your career, you didn’t mind being a little extra.

“I’ll do anything. Please just let me continue to dance for you. I’m nothing without you. I can’t- you can’t-”

You knew what buttons to push. His ego was too big to not take the bait.

“You’re right. It would be a shame to waste your potential.”

He lifted your head up again by your chin. A sudden sexual tension hit you, once you saw the outline of his bulge. You knew your actions had an effect on him, but not to that extent.

“It would be a shame to waste such a pretty face.”

You tried your best to look him in the eyes. It was hard to not shy away at a situation like that, even for you.

“Please, Mr. Park.”

He inhaled sharply, before he broke out in a smile.

“I forgive you, y/n. I can’t live with myself if I don’t give you another chance.”

You smiled up at him as well, preceding to get back up on your feet. But his arm found your shoulder and stopped you in your ascend.

“Wait.”

He warned you, and you quickly sat back down on your knees.

“I like seeing you like this, it’s not often you look so- submissive.”

Chills ran down your spine at his words. You definitely did not take that as a compliment. You were quite fiery, yes. And in any normal situation you would never let a man speak to you like he did. But the fear of losing your job, combined with the reverence you felt towards him, made you defy yourself.

“After this season I want you to take private lessons with me. Every Tuesday and Thursday.”

You nodded carefully, not looking up at him.

“Don’t look so down, darling. I’ll make you my next prima ballerina.”

“He said what?”

Maria half whispered in shock.

“Ms. Sanderson.”

Mrs. Petrova, your instructor, who was so old she probably was alive when swan lake was composed, hushed her. Maria looked at her before looking down at her moving feet. The company was warming up, standing in clean lines against the railing, moving to the rhythm of the slow classical music.

“Not only did he not fire you.”

She whispered once Mrs. Petrova was at the other end of the room.

“But he also said he would make you a prima ballerina?”

You nodded.

“Switch to third position!”

The two of you switched.

“Wow, you are so lucky. Mr. Park hasn’t had a prima ballerina in years.”

You smiled at her, and lifted you head higher when Mrs. Petrova walked by. You remained silent until you knew she was far enough away.

“I’m happy of course, it’s just- I don’t know. There’s something weird about him.”

“Yeah he’s like really cocky.”

She answered and held back a laugh.

“That too, but he’s just eerie. Like I don’t know if I want to spend so much time with him alone.”

“Ms. y/l/n! Would you like to share something with the company? Or do I have to send the two of you to Mr. Parks office?”

Mrs. Petrova suddenly bursted out. You locked eyes with Maria. Not knowing what to answer the old hag.

“We were just talking about-“

“Boys, just boys.”

You interrupted Maria. Not wanting her to say anything about you or Mr. Park. Mrs. Petrova gave the two of you a strict look, before the music started playing again.

“Please focus on your movements, not the opposite gender.”

She scolded before walking away from the two of you.

“And fourth position!”

“He just kept looking at me weirdly, and telling me that I’m beautiful and shit.”

You said as the two of you were walking down towards the cafeteria for lunch.

“Oh my god! He probably has a crush on you or something!”

Maria said a little bit too loud. You poked her in her side with your elbow.

“Please, keep it down.”

She started laughing, and you quickly followed. As you turned a corner you crashed into something. Or rather someone. A hand snuck around you waist, keeping you from falling. You looked up, finding the familiar brown eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Park. I didn’t see where I was going.”

He looked at you for a second, before smiling. He didn’t let go of your waist, and when you became aware of that you awkwardly stepped away from him.

“No harm done.”

He simply said and walked away. You looked over at Maria.

“I get it.”

She simply said as you started walking again.

“Right?”

You asked, looking back at her as she tried to keep up with you.

“What ever look he just gave you was not the look you give to someone you have a crush on.”

The season had ended, for a minute you felt relief. Knowing you had time off now to just relax before the next season. But as you read the message on your phone, you felt that relief fade away.

“Studio 5, next Thursday at 07.00 am. Don’t be late.”

You sighed, was this really what you wanted? Of course it was a dream come true to potential become Mr. Parks new prima ballerina. But you couldn’t help but feel weird about that time in his office. It seemed like he had other intentions in mind. Mr. Park was an attractive man yes, but he was way older than you and you didn’t want his attention in that way. He was your teacher, your mentor. Not a potential hook up. You didn’t see him in that way, and you hoped against all odds that he didn’t see you like that either.

What you didn’t know was that in that moment, outside on the dark street. He was there. Looking at you through your window. Watching your puzzled look at his text. He didn’t know his intentions fully yet either. But he did know they were not good.

“Higher.”

He simply said as he watch you dance to the music. It was your fifth lesson together, and everything was going well. You hadn’t seen the side of him that you saw when he proposed this idea. And you were enjoying yourself, getting these private lessons had really helped you improve. In the next second arabesque, you lifted your leg even higher. Showing him that you listened. But he still shut the music off. You stepped down from your tips, looking at him as he walked up to you.

“Turn around.”

He said once he reached you. And you did as instructed. You looked at him through the big mirrors.

“Do your second arabesque.”

You stood back up on your toes, and gracefully bent into a second arabesque.

“Look at yourself in the mirror.”

He said, and you did. You instinctively pushed your leg even further up, once you saw your own reflection.

“Now back to full position.”

You moved your face upwards again, looking away from the mirror. You felt his hands touch your waist. He straightened your back, before one of his hands went to your lifted leg.

“Look back at yourself.”

He almost whispered in your ear, now with one hand on your waist, and the other holding your leg higher than what you were comfortable with. You smiled once you saw yourself. Your arabesque looked different, more sophisticated.

“When you do your second arabesque, or any arabesque for that matter. Remember this. Straight back and high leg.”

He said in a low comforting tone once he saw your smile. You nodded, and stepped down from your tippy toes. He let go of your leg, but moved that hand to the other side of your waist.

“Think of me holding your waist, it’ll help you stabilise.”

He whispered now, you felt his warm breath on the back of your neck. You turned to look at him.

“Thank you.”

You muttered. His eyes immediately fell to your lips, and in a split second his lips were on yours. You were caught off guard, and didn’t respond at first. But once it dawned on you what was happening you quickly moved your face away from his. You felt his hands on your waist tighten.

“Please don’t ever do that again.”

You looked up at the mirror, wanting to see his reaction. He was looking you dead in the eye, with anger written all over his face. He leaned down to kiss your bare shoulder, still maintaining eye contact. Before he deeply whispered.

“I’ll do whatever I want with my ballerinas.”

His hand moved up to your face as he turned to kiss you yet again. You pushed him away, and tried to make a run for it. But he snaked his arm around your chest.

“Let me go!”

You struggled against him, now scared of what would happen if you didn’t get away. Your fight or flight instinct kicked in and you elbowed him as hard as you could in his side. His hand loosened and you ran. But not quick enough. He grabbed you by your arm and threw you into the big mirror. It was pure luck that it didn’t shatter. His body locked you in.

“Hush, I won’t hurt you.”

He said, and for a second you stopped fighting. You were out of breath, but still managed to give him a death glare.

“Let me go!”

You tried once again. He shook his head.

“Do you think I just give away free lessons? Don’t you think you need to repay me?”

You felt something hard against your abdomen. You wanted to cry, you didn’t know what to do. His face shifted once he saw your eyes watering.

“No, no. I’m not a rapist, y/n! God no. But if you want to be my prima ballerina. You have to get your priorities straight.”

You clung onto the little bit of relief you felt from his words.

“I’ve tried my best to stay away, y/n. I really have. But there’s just something about you.”

You felt his hips grind against yours.

“You make me fucking crazy. I can’t wait any longer. I need you.”

He let out a small moan at the friction. A tear fell down your face.

“Please, Mr. Park. Let me go.”

You sobbed. He hushed you again.

“I’ll let you go. Just listen to me.”

You took a deep breath, collecting yourself as much as you could.

“By next Thursday I want an answer. Either you show up or you don’t. Don’t be late.”

He pushed himself off the wall and gave you one last look before slowly walking out the studio. Leaving you alone in the big dance room. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

“I don’t know what to do, Maria. This is like a fucking nightmare!”

You said sobbing onto Marias lap as she comforted you. You called her the minute you got home, knowing that she already knew most of the backstory. She immediately came over to your place, wanting to be there for you in a situation like this. You were forever great full for having a friend like her.

“You have to report this. Surely the police could do something about him.”

She said in a calm voice, stroking your hair lightly. You sat up in your bed, wiping your tears away from your swollen face.

“Would they though?”

You asked defeated. Mr. Park was a rich and famous man. You wanted to believe Marias theory, but the hard sad truth was that you didn’t stand a chance against him. Especially with no proof.

“Either I don’t show up and give up my career or-“

You paused, collecting your thoughts.

“Or you give that bastard what he wants.”

Maria finished for you. Knowing exactly what you were thinking.

“Look, being Jimin Parks prima ballerina is huge. It really is, but- I don’t know, is it really worth it? Is it really worth loosing your dignity for a life of fame?”

She asked you with a worried face. You blinked away your tears, not wanting to cry anymore.

“What else would I do? I’ve been dancing my entire life, everything I’ve ever done has lead up to this moment. I can’t-“

You shook your head, not letting the emotions take control over you again.

“I have to show up, I have to talk some sense into him. I can’t give up now. I just can’t.”

You looked down at your hands in your lap as you felt a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“You could go to college, get a degree, get a nine to five. Anything but this, please I can’t watch you go through with this. It’s not safe to see him again.”

You looked up at her again.

“And be a complete failure? Not only to my parents, to you, to the company, but also to myself. This is all I’ve ever dreamed of, Maria.”

“You won’t be a failure! You’re an amazing dancer, you have real talent. But it’s not worth it.”

You shook your head. You had already made up your mind.

“I’m sorry.”

You mumbled. Maria sighed and got up from the bed.

“You do you, girl. But you better not call me crying next Thursday. I won’t feel bad for you.”

She said before walking out your room. You were alone with this now. But like you told her, you couldn’t give up on your dream. No matter the cost.

Thursday. You were sweating. A lump had formed itself inside your stomach, and it was impossible to to ignore it. You took what felt like your last breath before you opened the door to the studio. He stood in the other end, hands crossed over his chest, with a smirk plastered on his lips.

“You’re late.”

His voice rang through the big room, leaving an echo. You stepped into the room, the door shutting behind you. Another echo filling the otherwise dead silent room. You didn’t walk towards him, you stayed by the door. The silence making the lump in your stomach grow even larger.

“What are you doing?”

He asked, still with a slight smirk.

“Come here, we have dancing to do.”

You didn’t know what to do. Your entire body was screaming for you to run out the door and never look back. But your brain didn’t let you move.

“Come over here, y/n. Right now!”

He said in a strict tone, once you didn’t listen. Your own feet moved against your own will, as you slowly started moving forward. You put your bag down on your way.

“Good girl.”

He said, barely audible. But you heard it. All your senses were sharpened. He watched you like a predator, as you can closer and closer. You stopped at a reasonable distance. Close enough to have a conversation with him, but still just out of reach.

“Why so gloomy? You’ve made the biggest decision in your life, baby.”

He stepped closer to you. Every single muscle in your body tensed as his hand met your face in a loving embrace.

“I’m going to make you a star.”

He whispered. You shook your head.

“I don’t want to have sex with you, Mr. Park.”

His smile faded at your words. You straightened your back, trying your best to seem confident and not afraid of the man standing in front of you.

“This is all I’ve ever dreamt of. It’s all I’ve ever worked for. But I refuse to think that this is the only way I can get what I want.”

You said as you tried to conceal the shaky breath escaping your mouth.

“Please, I don’t want to sleep my way to fame. I want to earn it. So tell me, do you see a true and genuine prima ballerina in me. Or am I just a piece of meat?”

He looked at you directly in your eyes. You didn’t break eye contact. You were not giving up, not yet. He broke out in laughter after a few seconds of staring into your soul.

“Oh, y/n. Please.”

He continued laughing, as if this whole thing was a joke. You stayed as serious as ever.

“This is what I like about you. You’re so stubborn, so strong. You don’t see that often around here.”

He turned serious in a split second.

“Why would I be lying to you? Huh? I can sleep with whoever I want. If I wanted just a one night stand I’d pick one of the other girls. Someone easier to manipulate.”

His hand slid around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“I’m a man of my word, y/n. I see potential in you, I wouldn’t just say that to anyone.”

His eyes flickered down to your lips. You instinctively turned your head away, opting to looking at the two of you in the mirror. He looked back at you in the reflection.

“I see my next prima ballerina.”

He said and pointed at the mirror.

“You’re not just beautiful and talented, you have a strong mind. You’re perfect.”

You sighed, looking back at him.

“Why would you waste it all?”

He asked and softly caressed your chin. Your gaze flicked down, wanting to look anywhere but him. He was right, why would you waste the opportunity to have everything you’ve ever wanted?

“It’s honestly a package deal. You get fame and fortune, and good sex. I don’t see what the problem is honestly.”

You looked back up at him again. Trying to conceal the ick you just got.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

His face turned into a devilish grin.

“Join me in my office.”

He hastily got rid of your bollero, throwing it onto the floor. The second you stepped into his office his lips were on yours. Your fate was sealed, there was no return now. He grabbed at your hips harshly, digging his fingers into you with desperation and lust. He lifted you up, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He walked over to his desk, leaving your lips for a moment to push whatever was on it onto the floor. It all hit the floor and made a loud crashing noise. He placed you onto the desk, continuing his heated attack of your lips.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long, baby.”

He said in between kisses. Working on your wrap around skirt and tights. You lifted yourself off the desk so he could slide your garments off. Leaving you in your underwear and tank top.

“You have no idea how crazy you’ve made me. How many sins I’ve done in your favour.”

His lips crashed back onto yours. You started thinking of your career as you heard him removing his belt. Preparing yourself for what was to come. He pushed your upper body down onto the desk, making your head dip over the edge of the desk. You looked at his office upside down, staring at the expensive painting hanging on the wall. You felt him sliding your underwear to the side.

“What a pretty pussy you have, baby.”

He said before sliding himself into you, making you moan as you felt yourself being filled up.

“Better than I ever imagined.”

He groaned as he started to slowly move. You continued to look at the painting of the ballerina with a bouquet in her hands bowing down in a gracious pose. Your hands found his forearms, digging your nails into his skin. Your breath got heavy as you felt his speed increase.

But still you focused on the ballerina. You imagined it was you. Maybe that would be you after this. Bowing deeply to the applause of hundreds, maybe even thousands of people in the audience. They all applauding you. You moaned loudly once he hit a good spot.

“You like that? You want it, huh?”

“Yes.”

You said in a shaky voice. You wanted this, you wanted this more than anything. This was all worth it in the end. You would be a star, a prima ballerina. Someone little girls looked up to, and adults wanted to be. You would be like that ballerina in the painting. Gracious and beautiful in every way. Everything you ever aspired to be. Everything you were meant to be.

“God, I’m gonna-“

You belonged here. On that desk. In that studio. Alone on a stage, bowing to the audience after the greatest performance of their lives. You were Mr. Park’s new prima ballerina.

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

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diorsluv · 4 months

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feather , part 23

“ like a feather, like a feather, like a feather ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( second post is based off of the request/ask “oh my god what if she doesn’t go to the lake house cause she thought luke and the girl were going to be there but the girl wasn’t there, so she went to a different place for the summer for no reason :(” )

( socialmedia!au )

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→ yourusername what the hell is going on

yourusername

liked by markestapa, _alexturcotte, dylanduke25, and 94,292 others

yourusername oui oui paris 🥖🎀 (creds to jamie for the pics ig)

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jamie.drysdale wow i’m so honored you remembered to give me creds

→ yourusername because we’re not allowed to argue on our trip 🤬

→ jamie.drysdale dad said and i quote “no squirreling”

→ yourusername what the fuck is squirreling

→ yourusername WAIT DO YOU MEAN QUARRELING 😭😭

→ jamie.drysdale yeah yeah so we can’t squirrel

→ yourusername it’s QUARREL

username88 mother is in her coquette era

username34 HOW DO YOU LOOK SO GOOD WITH A FACE MASK ON???

trevorzegras come backkkkkk wmy

→ yourusername no can do trev 😔

username21 hold up but i thought everyone was spending the summer at the lake house?

rutgermcgroarty but WE were supposed to go to paris together 🙁

→ yourusername no sweetie it was athens..

→ rutgermcgroarty either way it’s still in france

→ yourusername no…….. no its not 😭😭

→ rutgermcgroarty damn it i’m just trying to say you’re always going to OUR dream places with other people 😒

→ yourusername I WILL TAKE YOU TO JEJU ISLAND I PROMISE

→ rutgermcgroarty is that in europe

→ yourusername 😟

_quinnhughes it’s so weird not hearing you badly scream-sing in the shower at 2 in the morning

→ yourusername oh shut up you love my hamilton marathons

adamfantilli you should be the one wiping out on the wakeboard not me 😔😔

→ yourusername wow i feel sooooo missed

→ adamfantilli we do miss u tho (PLEASE COME BACK WE NEED YOU)

username2 wait why didn’t you go to the lake house 😟😟

→ yourusername jamie and i didn’t feel like getting harassed 💔

→ username2 BY WHOOOOO??

→ username2 actually that’s a dumb question i know who

username75 this is the first summer they haven’t spent at the lake house 😧

luca.fantilli don’t worry lil drizzle we bought u two tickets so u can come back 😁

→ yourusername noooooo

mackie.samo you need to come back rn no excuses

markestapa WE NEED TO TAKE OUR ANNUAL GROUP PIC 😕

edwards.73 duker almost burnt the house down please we need you back

jackhughes NO ONES EVEN HERE PLEASE JUST COME BACK

→ yourusername thought my cyberbully was going 😣😖☹️🙁😓😥

→ jackhughes LMFAOOO as if

→ yourusername i’ll consider it 🙄

_alexturcotte our karaoke nights are so boring without youuuu

→ yourusername you can solo our mariah carey songs trust 🙏🙏

→ _alexturcotte NO I CANT

→ yourusername turcs we booked our hotel for 3 weeks i can’t do anything 😭😭

dylanduke25 i almost burnt the house down making waffles

→ yourusername oh duker..

username24 the way they’re all begging her to go back to the lake house lmao

missseraphina it’s giving nepo baby

liked by yourusername

→ username1 LMAOAOAO at this point drizz is just clowning this bitch

lhughes_06 i need you here

this comment has been deleted

lhughes_06 we need you here

next chapter notes ) so regarding the request; i wasn’t sure if it was like a request or more of just a thought but i felt like it could add more angst so i took it as a request anyways 🤍 i also wanted to say that the time between the first and second post was a bit of a jump but like let’s just say the first post was during finals week and the second one was obv during the summer and WE ARE FINALLY IN ACT IV WOOOOOOO 👏👏👏 also thank you all so much for 300 followers AHHHH!! it genuinely does mean so much to me and i’m glad you’re here on my journey to stir up more shit between luke and “his” girl

tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot @absolutelyhugh3s @jackquinnswife @freds-slut @love4ldr @blueeyedbesson @43hughes @v1olentdelights @dancerbailey3 @random-human02 @ho3forfakeguys @loveforaugust

#luke hughes #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #quinn hughes #jack hughes #alex turcotte #cole caufield #trevor zegras #jamie drysdale #adam fantilli #rutger mcgroarty #luca fantilli #mackie samoskevich #dylan duke #mark estapa #ethan edwards

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confused-wanderer · 3 months

Text

Incorrect batfam quotes as things I’ve heard as a college student that definitely fit them:

—

Dick: Stop copying me!

Jason: StOp CoPyInG mE!

Dick: Oh my god you’re so annoying

Jason: oh my god you’re so annoying

Dick: I love you

Jason:

Dick: Say it bro

Jason: *booking it to the door*

Dick : SAY IT BACK MOTHERFUCK-

—

Barbara: .. wait I’m lost now

Stephanie: Girl I’ve been lost a long time ago

—

*while the batboys are doing laundry*

Dick: .. hey Jason?

Jason: yeah?

Dick: I put money and my clothes in the washing machine but it won’t start. Could you try?

Jason *stares at it and gently pries the door open before slamming it shut with such force that it swings open again*

Dick: DONT BREAK IT I PAID FOR THIS MAN

Jason: Hold on lemme try some- *swings harder*

Tim: WHAT ARE YOU DOING IDIOT ??

Washer *beeps and starts washing*

—

Duke: ah.. such a peaceful day and gorgeous vie-

*hears screaming in the distance*

Duke: Aaand we’re walking-

—

Tim: I’m sorry but could you tell me how to spell your name? I’m trying to save your contact.

Damian: It doesn’t matter.

Tim: Of course it does! I just want to make sure I spell it right.

Damian: No, seriously. It doesn’t matter how you spell it. That’s not even my real name.

—

Jason and Damian having breakfast in silence at a restaurant

Damian: so I have a knife in my room.

—

Bruce: And there’s this girl in the bathroom who’s been crying there for hours! And I don’t even know who it is, I can just see her shoes

Selina : Wait let’s check it out

Bruce: .. isn’t that an invasion of her privacy?

Selina: you’re no fun… I wonder what’s going on

Bruce: well she was talking to her friend about *insert very oddly specific rant about every microscopic detail*

Selina:

Bruce: ? What?

Selina: ..and youre trashing me for tryna find out who it is.

Bruce: Hey I was debating if I should call out and ask her if she was okay

Selina: Mhmm. Nosy. Imma go check-

Bruce: I have to fill my bottle anyways so I guess I’ll join..

— later —

Harley: and then what happened?

Selina: This mf was waiting for me outside while I found out and then I shooed him away to fill his bottle. And then we both watched as he placed it under the tap only for it to immediately start overflowing

Harley *howling with laughter*

Bruce: IT WAS HALF- EMPTY

Selina: It was FULL

Bruce: ..you’re exaggerating

Selina: Girl be for real you’re just as nosy as I am, that’s why we get along so well~

———————————————————————-

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imdonewiththisblogsblog · 3 months

Text

(Hello! Here’s some Catnap x Dogday’s incorrect quotes!)

Catnap: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response.

Dogday: Wow. They sound stupid.

Catnap: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense.

Dogday: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!”

Catnap: I guess you’re right. Hey Dogday, I love you.

Dogday: See! Just say that!

Catnap: Holy f---ing s---.

Dogday: If that flies over their head then, sorry Catnap, but they're too dumb for you.

Catnap: Dogday.

Catnap: Look at me straight in the eyes and tell me the truth, Dogday!

Dogday: You can’t expect me to look into your eyes and be straight.

Dogday, sweating: Catnap, there’s something I need to ask you-

Catnap: Finally! You’re proposing!

Dogday: How’d you know?

Catnap: Dogday, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.

Catnap: I even picked it up once.

Catnap: Dogday and I are no longer dating.

Dogday: Catnap, that’s a horrible way of telling people we’re married.

Dogday: So... what would you do if you were in bed with me?

Catnap: Depends. Is your bed comfortable?

Dogday: Yes.

Catnap: I'd sleep.

Dogday: Catnap, you love me, right?

Catnap: Normally I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere I won’t like.

Dogday: I think I'm falling for you.

Catnap: Then get up.

Dogday: Are you ready to commit?

Catnap: Like, a crime or a relationship?

Dogday: I am so cool. I am an absolute Chad. I am the epitome of coolness and awesomeness—

Catnap: Hi.

Dogday: *melts down in a flustered heap of softness*

#poppy playtime #catnap x dogday #cartoon version #smiling critters #Cute

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skylarsblue · 1 year

Text

✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes, Again✦

Guess who's back...back again-

Ghost @ DILF!Y/N: Stop making me have gay thoughts, General. I look at men and I feel weird. I feel strange. It makes me wanna do things. I don’t like that.

(This also works with Soap, of course)

-- (Based on that one Avatar moment that set the fucking bar for me. Also, bonus random name of an NPC) Ghost: Oliver is the best sniper. DILF!Y/N, real softly over Ghost’s shoulder: …well I don’t want Oliver. Ghost, a man with daddy issues: Ghost, internally: HOLD IT THE FUCK TOGETHER SOLDIER, WE’LL GET THROUGH THIS

-- Y/N: I was gonna say that if in ten years time, the two of us aren’t married, let’s agree… Gaz: Yeah? Y/N: To hunt each other for sport. Gaz: T-To hunt each other for sport?- Y/N: Yeah! D-did you just agree?! Gaz: I thought you were gonna say like, y’a know, let’s get married! Let’s- Y/N: Oh! Oh. Gaz: I’ll be your Gilligan! Y/N: I didn’t mean- the signals-

-- Gaz: Sorry! I thought I saw a wasp. Y/N: Do you love me too? Gaz, breaking his neck: Excuse me?

-- (NSFW warning) Y/N: Like- no I know it’s bad but bro I- he makes me such a whore. Soap: Okay like, on a scale of one to ten- Y/N: I’d let him cum on my glasses Soap: ON YOUR GLASSES?! Oh it’s serious. Y/N: I KNOW

-- 141: *looking at knocked out Graves* Y/N: I’m gonna check his pockets. Alejandro: For weapons? Y/N: No, to see where he keeps the fucking audacity. Soap: *wheeze* No no, bad timing, don’t be funny this is serious.

-- Y/N: You wanna go toe-to-toe with me, pretty boy? Alejandro: Go for it.~ I’ll give you the first shot. Y/N: Better make it count, casanova. Alejandro: I never half-ass anything, mi girasol. Ghost: Oi, keep your pants on and focus, would ya?

-- Soap: Missed me missed me now you gotta kiiii…. Simon: Now I gotta what? Soap: Nothin’ forget it- Simon: No no, now I gotta what?

-- Y/N, surrounded by attractive men: Am I…a whore? Y/N: *looks at them* Y/N: I don’t really give a fuck, HEY TEAM-

-- Gaz: Why are you just…laying on the couch? Usually you’re up and doing something. Y/N: Can’t move. Soap: Why?? Y/N: *sits up on their elbows and allows their neck to be seen* Gaz: *gasp* Nooooo… Y/N: Mhm. Soap: Nuh uh. Y/N: König carried me here. >:) Gaz: YOU WHORED! Y/N: I DID!!

-- Someone: Please PLEASE don’t tell anyone. Y/N: I won’t! I won’t, promise. Someone: *sigh* Thank you. … Price: *doing paperwork* Y/N, busting in: CAPTAIN!! Price: BLOODY FU-What in the world?! Y/N: *shuts his door and smoothly sits on his desk* Captain you will not believe what I have heard.

-- Soap: I’m gonna stop listening to drama. I’m gonna focus on my training, be a better person- Gaz: Right, right. Y/N, popping in: Guess who got caught sucking dick in the bathroom. Soap & Gaz: WHO?! Soap: *falls out of chair*

-- Price: Be nice. Y/N: I’m always nice! Price: Really nice, not bitchy nice. Y/N: …you tied my hands but fine.

-- (With a random backstory I have in my brain for König) Y/N: How do you uh, deal with all this trauma? König: I call my mutter. Y/N: That’s beautiful, K- König: Call my mutter a bitch.

-- Gaz: GIRLFRIEND STOP, GET BACK IN THE CAR Soap with zero self preservation instincts: *sprinting with a pipe bomb* YOU GET BACK HERE!

-- Y/N: This entire team is full of babygirls. Gaz: Oh not that fucking meme- Soap: Full of huh? Ghost: Call me that and I will snap your spine. Y/N: Bring it! An honor sir! Price: Jesus Christ-

#the dilf ones are for my own enjoyment #i have a dilf oc and this is how i get it out #call of duty x y/n #call of duty x reader #call of duty #konig call of duty #konig x reader #captain john price #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #incorrect cod quotes

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starsinmylatte · 4 months

Text

Malum in se

Pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None! There's only fluff here :)

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: A lovely anon originally requested this of @pseudowho, but she's asked me to fill it (for those of you not following the saga of Lyria's snow week™️.... I've been completely snowed in and WIPs have kept me sane).

Join my taglist here! (18+ only, this blog is mostly pure filth)

Higuruma Hiromi knew he was truly in love when you successfully convinced him to watch horrifically cheesy reruns of Law and Order while he was the one stuck at home sick. He groaned dramatically at every exaggeration or incorrect legal quote, but he enjoyed how you snuggled into his side too much to actually complain about the situation. After all, you were kind enough to take care of him, and his mild illness had not deterred your affection in the slightest.

He had almost fallen asleep on the couch when you cocked your head at the antics on the television, murmuring under your breath, “Wouldn’t that qualify as Malum in se, though?”

Hiromi blinked once, twice, and then a third time before speaking, “I’m sorry, what?”

You turned to face your boyfriend, tone slightly teasing, “Yeah, Malum in se, right? Things like assault, murder… or wearing white after Labor Day.”

Hiromi arched an eyebrow at you and treated you to the lopsided grin you adored so much. “You’re going to have to tell me how you know what that is.”

He snaked his arms around you, pulling you even closer against his warm chest. Before you could answer, he took the chance to nuzzle his nose against the column of your neck, sending you into a fit of giggles.

“Well, pretty girl?” He teased gently, and you dropped your head back against his shoulder, humming contentedly.

“Do you remember when I mentioned I used to do community theatre a few years ago?” You questioned, and you could feel Higuruma's grin grow wider.

“Indeed, I do.”

“Well…. There was one time when I played a character who happened to be a law student.” You pursed your lips, trying to keep laughter from bubbling up.

Hiromi broke into a barking laugh that became a short coughing fit. “You played a law student? What kind of musical involves lawyers?” he wheezed.

“It’s called Legally Blonde, and it’s not just a musical… It’s a masterpiece.” You insisted. “I loved the movie when I was a young girl, and getting to play Elle- the main character- was an absolute dream come true.”

Your eyes lit up as an idea sparked into your brain with the strength of a thunderbolt, “Omigod, you’ve never seen the movie, have you? We absolutely have to watch it.”

Hiromi chuckled weakly, running his hand through your hair, “I’ve got a better idea… There have to be clips of your performance somewhere, right?”

“Oh….” you paused for a moment, “It was a few years ago, and I’m sure it wasn’t my best work, but-”

“There’s nothing I’d rather see than you enjoying yourself and doing what you love,” Hiromi interrupted gently, stroking your hair again.

His lopsided grin turned wolfish, “Besides… I am sick; I think this is exactly what I need to heal.”

“If you insist.” You smacked him gently with a pillow to punctuate your words as you left the couch to rummage through the DVDs on the shelf. You even took the time to make another mug of tea for your boyfriend, but eventually, you were back and snuggled up against Hiromi, who gratefully accepted the mug you offered him.

His nose wrinkled unintentionally as he took a sip, “Thank you… but what is in this stuff?”

“It’s helping your throat, isn’t it? You poked his stomach playfully, and he groaned in response.

“Yes, but at what cost?” Hiromi huffed, but the slight twinkle in his eyes told you he wasn’t being serious.

“It’s throat coat tea, yet another remnant from my musical days,” you giggled. “I never liked the taste either, but it certainly gets the job done.”

With another flourish of the remote, you pulled up the recording of the show, and you swear you could feel Hiromi smiling behind you as he nursed the warm mug. As soon as the video started, he broke out into another laughter-induced coughing fit.

“Dear god, I’ve never seen so much pink in my entire life.”

“Oh, just you wait.” You threatened teasingly, “You haven’t even seen my character yet.”

Hiromi grasped his mug in one hand and used his other arm to pull you back against his chest, wrapping a blanket snugly around your body. You leaned fully against him, partially because you enjoyed the intimacy and partly because you wanted to see his reactions out of the corner of your eye.

His reactions did not disappoint, even though the video was grainy and clearly meant to be viewed through the rose-colored lenses of someone who was in the show. Hiromi grinned widely when you appeared on stage, murmuring almost too quietly for you to hear, “Cute…”

You blushed happily, and the show continued. He had many comments on how the Delta Nus seemed to share a hive mind and how much of a prick Warner was. He also very nearly choked on his tea when your character’s father proudly declared, “Law school is for boring, ugly, serious people!”

Hiromi glanced down at you after that line with a slight pout, and you took the opportunity to cup his cheek and pull him in for a soft kiss, tasting the tea and honey on his lips. “Mmm, don’t worry… You’re not boring, and you’re certainly not ugly. You can be rather serious… but I like that about you.”

Hiromi kissed the top of your head with a low, contented hum, absolutely convinced his heart was full enough to burst. He fell more in love with you with each passing day, and these past few days had only further sealed his fate. Even now, he was watching you sing and dance your heart out, and you were shining in the roll. The sassy, playfully cute, but deceptively intelligent lawyer was such a perfect role for you, and he quickly became frustrated with Warner. Seeing you so upset over such a stupid man hurt his heart, even though he knew you were acting…. and then Emmett was introduced.

“Now, I like that guy. He’s got the right idea, actually treating Elle decently.” Hiromi mused, playfully twirling a strand of your hair.

“Oh, really?” You grinned slyly. “He reminds me of you, you know.”

“It seems we share the same excellent taste in women.”

–

The movie was over a short while later, but Hiromi insisted on letting it play through curtain call so he could properly applaud your work. You rolled over to lay against his chest, peering inquisitively into his dark, beautiful eyes, “So you really liked it?”

“I loved it,” He assured you, pulling you in for another tea-flavored kiss. Suddenly, you could feel him grinning against your lips, “And I may buy you another one of those pink tweed skirt sets… it was cute on you.”

His deep chuckle only grew louder as you smacked him with another pillow.

Tagging some friends: @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @orangecremepuff @khaleesihavilliard @belle-smith07 @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @msniks @panteramarron @eldritchbeauty @unoriginalidea @gabbyburgers @its-chickenwing-450 @luneariaa @pseudowho

#higuruma hiromi #hiromi jjk #hiromi higuruma #higuruma x reader #jjk higuruma #hiromi higuruma x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you

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dickgraysonsbitch · 5 months

Text

batfam incorrect quotes

cass: the reason i’m a vegetarian isn’t because i love animals, it’s because i hate plants

steph: i’m pretty sure you got that off of facebook. and you’re not even a vegetarian.

cass: im sorry, i can’t hear you over the sound of you being a hater

dick: sunshiiine, and raiiiinbows, and unicoooorns that poop gliiiiitter…

bruce: *eyebrows raised in concern* are you ok?

dick: nO bruce i am suffering from crippling depression

tim: oh my gosh twinsies!

damian: why won’t my father tell me that he’s proud of me?

cass: because you’re a little shit

tim: *sneezes*

dick: bless you

jason: *sneezes*

dick: hey are you feeling all right?

damian: *sneezes*

dick: oH MY GOD THE CHILD IS SICK DO YOU NEED SOME SOUP SWEETIE PIE HERE ILL GET YOU A BLANKET

bruce: *sneezes*

dick: shut the fuck up

damian speaking arabic: هذا كله خطأك!

cass: yeah, i know

jason: you speak arabic?

cass: no, i just know the phrase. ‘this is all your fault?’

cass: he says it a lot

#jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #batfam #dc batman #dc batfam #batfamily #batbros #batsis #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #damian wayne #batfam incorrect quotes #dc incorrect quotes

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wordstome · 5 months

Text

the very first night (ntwdt pt 2)

tell me that you hate it hate that i'm no longer in your reach if i can't hear you say it maybe you can't change it, but if you never if you never put it on the line how am i gonna sign for it?

alpha colonel König x beta ex-lover reader

2nd person, no y/n, she/her pronouns, reader's callsign is Eden, reader speaks French, omegaverse, exes to lovers, fraternization, fantasy version of military protocol, probable incorrect use of "copy"

2.2k words

tw: mentions of dead bodies and vague violence, dirty talk, könig is in rut but no actual sex happens, mention of grinding

Do you guys still even remember this au??? 😅 I'm back to writing this fic with this specific format just like the last time I had bad writer's block. I'm sorry that I basically made you guys take a poll and then immediately disregarded the results :( metalhead König is going to be the next one published, and then kosovo maiden. Anyway, this is less of a foray into the omegaverse as it is into exploring a married couple's dynamic. Forgive me if it's inaccurate, I've never been married. (Several of the people who will probably read this are married so...I might be really embarrassing myself here lol)

“Two on your six, O’Conor.”

König watches as his colleague takes down his pursuants with practiced ease. “Good to have someone watching over me, Eden.” the man roughs into his comms.

“It was my pleasure, Declan.”

“Can you two keep the flirting off the main comms?” Fender huffs. König hears O’Conor snort before the line goes quiet.

“Steady,” Horangi says next to him.

“What?” König says.

“You’re breathing like an angry bull. It’s unnerving.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s obvious you’re mad O’Conor’s flirting with your ex-wife.”

“She’s not—“ König lets out a sigh of defeat and tips his head away from the scope. “She can do whatever she wants. I’m not her keeper.”

“Right, which is why you’re white-knuckling your rifle and giving off the most furious pheromones I've ever felt."

König gives his friend a deadly side eye. “Can I help you?”

“Nah. Just confirming what I already know”, Horangi answers, unbearably smug.

König rolls his eyes and returns to the task at hand.

The two of you avoid each other, mostly.

When you’re forced to interact, it's with stiff professionalism. Cold and distant. The way it was when it was really, really bad.

You spend your time becoming closer to the other operators. O'Conor, for one, is someone you find yourself growing close to. In your line of work, it's usually not a good idea to get too attached to someone who may not see the next day, but it's part of your job to know these people now.

They're so competent that you can ignore the obvious, anyway.

König's always been competent, but watching him work nowadays is strange, like watching a remake of a nostalgic childhood film.

His movements are the same. He flicks his wrist the same way, with a heartbeat's worth of pause before the movement. Him taking cover, leaning with that awful posture you always got on his case about.

But everything about him is more ruthless, more efficient. The unrefined brutality of his youth is replaced with a honed precision that is foreign to you.

It stings, though you know the feeling has no right to exist.

You can't keep yourself from reminiscing about the past, when everything about him was familiar. When you knew him so well, it was enough to save both your lives.

"We've lost comms with König."

Your heart drops into your throat. You've been on several ops with him at this point, but this has never happened before.

"What do you mean you've lost comms?"

"He's not responding."

"What?" Fear grips your heart at everything that implies.

"He's in your building, Eden. Find him and extract. Copy."

You move slowly, like ice is flowing through your veins. "Copy."

You will yourself to calm down. Lost communications doesn't mean anything but lost communications. Panicking that you're going to encounter his body will only ensure you end up as a corpse as well. Besides, who could ever take down a man like that, tall like a giant and quick like a viper as he is?

If you had lost comms, what would you do? Re-establish them, of course. Pick your way out of the building and do everything in your power to reconnect with your team. From where König entered, he'd be exiting the building on the east side. You turn to head that way, then hesitate.

König's not you, though. He's not like any other member of the team. Proud, arrogant, vicious König, far more so than other alphas. You used to be afraid of him while he was at work, but eventually you came to realize that was simply how he was in his element—a different persona he wore to battle. As much as you wished he would be sensible and take the safe route, König would never take the safe route. He'd be carrying on the mission on his own, moving towards the target at the center of the building.

But he's a professional. No matter how good he is at what he does, he's not a one-man army, and he knows the right thing to do would be to extract. It's a gamble. If you head towards the east exit and he's not there, you could be losing precious time to find him. But if you head towards the center, you could be walking right into a fight you can't win and become overwhelmed.

You let out a shaky breath and attempt to calm your mind. What would he do? What is he thinking? If you make the wrong call, if you don't know your lover as well as you think you do, one of you won't be walking out of here. You close your eyes and think.

You open them with newfound determination and turn towards the center of the building.

You'd been right, of course, judging by the fallen enemies you find as you move through the hallways. But you don't allow yourself to feel sure until the moment you lay eyes on him, securing the target—a hard drive containing sensitive information.

"König!" you hiss, just as he whips towards you, gun drawn. He relaxes when he sees it's only you. Despite the fraught situation you're in, you can't help yourself from dashing towards him and burying your face into his chest in a hug.

"Eden," he says, his relief evident.

"You stupid motherfucker," you hiss. "You should have extracted the moment your comms cut out."

His eyes crinkle up behind his mask the way they always do when he smiles. "You knew I wouldn't."

"Yes, because I am burdened with being one of the few people on this earth who knows you like the back of my hand. Atlas holding up the sky," you grumble.

"I know you're relieved to see me," he responds, joy evident in his tone.

You let out a sigh. "Can we just get out of here?"

"Aye-aye, captain."

You could do without those memories, you think whenever the two of you trade clipped exchanges during ops now.

König still has traces of the arrogance of his youth, but it shows through less now. He's wiser, more patient and far less reckless.

You catch yourself admiring how good of a leader he's become. His connection with his teammates is like muscles flexing a hand.

You're no longer a part of that nervous system.

In fact, he's always catching you off guard now.

The energy in the common area is weird today.

You can’t quite put your finger on it. It’s like everyone’s walking on eggshells, but at the same time, nobody’s mood seems to be that affected. It’s like you’re all mice living in someone’s walls: going about business as usual, but with some looming threat casting a pall over everything.

“Is it just me or does the energy on base feel off today?” you ask Calisto.

“Oh. Yeah, that. Don’t worry about it,” she says. She swings open the refrigerator and pulls out coffee creamer. “No need for concern. König’s in rut.”

You do a double take. “He is?”

“Yeah.” She’s casual about it as she dumps cream and sugar into her coffee. “Usually he has a pretty light rut—he just gets testy and irritated. But for some reason this time is bad.” She offers you the cream, but you shake your head. “Don’t know what’s up with him, but he had to barricade himself in his room. His scent is driving people up the wall.”

You stare at the table in front of you. It can’t be a coincidence that König’s rut gets worse as soon as you’re near him again, can it?

When you look up, Horangi is staring at you from across the room. Slowly, he raises his mug to his lips, never once taking his eyes off of you.

You swallow the lump in your throat.

Calisto was right. The scent is overwhelming, but it's also familiar. You can't blame the others for avoiding the area. If you'd never dealt with him in this state before, you'd be hightailing it out of there too. Which is why you're doing this despite...everything.

You hover outside his door, trying to gather yourself, or work up the nerve to knock, or anything. It doesn’t matter in the end, though.

“I can smell you, liebling,” comes his voice, deep and growling and verging on feral. A shiver runs up your spine. You haven’t been called that in a long, long time.

“I only came here to bring you things. Water and…snacks.” you stammer, instantly hating yourself for how weak you sound.

“All these years later…and you still smell the same.” He blows right past your feeble little excuse, not even dignifying it with a response.

“I’m just here to check on you,” you murmur.

“Is that so.” You gasp as you hear a loud thud against the door from the other side. Oh God, it’s him, his body heat almost burning through the wood, pressed so close that you can hear his heaving breaths. “How kind of you.”

“It’s the least I can do, considering…”

“Considering it’s your fault I’m like this in the first place?”

Your legs feel weak. “Yes.”

His voice is silky, dangerous despite the barely restrained lust behind it. “Good girl.”

“That’s not fair,” you whisper.

“That’s a shame. You used to like it when I called you that. Still do, according to my nose.”

You wish he wasn’t right, but he is. You’re so slick that you’re soaking your underwear.

“Do you want the water or not?”

“Are you going to come with it?”

“I—”

“Because I promise you, if you’re still standing there when I open this door, you will get fucked against it.” He sounds like a savage animal snapping his jaws in hunger, and fuck, your body feels hot and weak in response. Every cell in your body is screaming out for you to throw open that door and let him fuck you limp. If you told him to break down the door, you’re sure that he would.

“You can’t say that anymore,” you whisper, hating the words as they leave you.

That seems to bring König back to rationality. You can picture him now on the other side of the door, shoulders slumping as he withdraws back into himself. "I...I'm sorry."

You slide down to sit on the ground with your back to the door, gripping a water bottle in a clenched fist. "It's like no time has passed at all, huh?"

You hear him let out a shaky breath, clearly trying to collect himself and bite back words he can't say. "Yeah."

That's the thing, isn't it? Your biology and his got the two of you into this situation in the first place. Very little of that has changed. Even though you've grown distanced in your minds, your bodies haven't forgotten the connection.

You're still struggling with how to feel about that. So much of your life has been dictated by what your body needs and wants. You've spent just as much time bucking against those needs and wants, so much that it feels like second nature.

"All of this...it takes me back. Do you remember the first night I spent with you during a rut?" you say. For a while you don't think he's heard you, but then he responds.

"How could I forget? It's my most embarrassing memory."

"Still?"

"I swore I would never let something like that happen again."

You giggle a little. "It was cute, for what it's worth." That first time, you'd come prepared with water and food, just like you had tonight, prepared for a long night full of...strenuous exercise. Instead, König had gotten so overwhelmed at his first rut with a partner that he came by just grinding on your leg and immediately fell into a 12-hour sleep.

"Yeah, you've said that. Doesn't make me cringe any less."

"And I'll say it again, it wasn't as bad as you think it is." You idly trace the cap of the water bottle with a fingertip. "There's no shame between us."

Another long pause before he responds. "Was."

A dull, throbbing pain nestles itself below your sternum.

"It...doesn't have to be past tense," you put forth tentatively.

"Doesn't it? We've gone right back to being strangers. You're still on the other side of the door."

You bite your lip. You can't deny that, nor the distance that's grown between the two of you.

This is all happening too fast. You don't know if you want to close the gap. You don't know if you're ready to make amends, after what happened.

"You're in no condition to have this conversation," you say, to distract both him and yourself.

"Conversation with you is hard to come by nowadays."

"Well...let's change that. Starting when your rut's over. Let's try talking like normal people again." This time, you don't know if you can blame your stupid biology for the relief you feel saying that. Maybe this time it's nothing but you and your treacherous heart.

You hear a thump against the door, but not an aggressive one. More like he's leaned his head against it. "I guess we have to start somewhere."

More silence. Then he speaks again, his voice tremulous.

"Can you stay? It's easier when you're here."

You swallow, your mouth gone dry like a desert. You can barely manage your next two words. "Of course."

The rest of the night is quiet, but you know he's there. At one point, you can even hear his steady, even breathing. Somewhere along the way, you notice that your breathing has synced with his.

The two of you fall asleep like that, propped up next to each other with a single layer of wood between you.

I miss you like it was the very first night...

I only revised this once while exhausted out of my fucking mind at 3am, so forgive me if anything's awkward or clunky. I'll probably go through it again in the morning (and die of cringe). But there we go! I hope you guys enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts and comments <3

Regarding my tag lists: I've had to leave out a few people, so if you see your url missing from this, please let me know and I'll add you back. Also, apologies if you're here despite not asking to be tagged for this particular story. I haven't gotten around to sorting out fic-specific taglists yet 🥲

@kneelingshadowsalome @danibee33 @crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @cookiepie111 @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @hexqueensupreme @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @deaddainish @teehee-47 @catluvwr @keiva1000 @waves-against-a-cliff @channelsoph @cutiecusp @itsagrimm @dins-riduur-anthe @mantishymns @lexuria @complexivelovely @black-moon-bunny @kit-williams @shebibtedmypepnis @mafer383

#könig #könig x reader #könig x you #konig #konig x reader #konig x you #könig cod #konig cod #cod #cod mw2 #call of duty #mw2 #konig mw2 #könig mw2 #fic: now that we don't talk

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nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius · 1 year

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TBB Incorrect Quotes, Part 9

Echo, comming Crosshair: Okay turn around. Echo: No, the other way. Echo: The other other way. Echo: Okay, one more time. Echo: A little to the left. Echo: No, your other left. Crosshair: OH MY GOD, WHERE ARE YOU?!? Echo: Oh, I'm not there yet. But the thought of you aimlessly spinning in circles amuses me.

Echo: Where are my fucking keys? Hunter: Echo, Omega is around, can you say it a little nicer? Echo: May I ascertain the whereabouts of my FUCKING KEYS?!

Tech: This is Hunter. He loves his personal space. *Omega latches herself onto Hunter* Tech: This is Omega. She also loves Hunter's personal space.

Hunter, texting Crosshair: Text me when you’re home safely. Crosshair: I’m home dangerously. Hunter: Stop it. Crosshair: I’m home lethally.

Wrecker: *shatters a window and climbs through it* Wrecker: *turns around and helps Omega through it* Breaking and entering is wrong Omega. Omega: Okay.

Tech: May luck (and this picture of Wrecker eating shredded cheese at 3 in the morning) be with you.

Tech: Hello friends! The Squad: Tech: You might be wondering why I’m taped to the ceiling

Hunter: I am in charge of this disaster! Crosshair: I have a name, you know.

Echo: Protip is you do not feel good about yourself after eating tomato sauce on iceberg lettuce. Wrecker: What's wrong with you?? Echo: I literally JUST said I ate tomato sauce on iceberg lettuce?? Pay attention. Omega: No, he means other than that. Echo: Ohhhhhh. Echo: I haven't slept in 4 days.

Wrecker: Every zoo is a petting zoo unless you’re a coward. Hunter: I’m worried about you.

Tech: You are, of course, wondering why it is I have brought you here tonight. Echo: Actually, Tech, after all these years, I just sort of go with it.

Hunter: It’s quick, it’s easy, and it’s free: pouring river water in your socks! Tech: Why would I do that? Hunter: It’s quick, it’s easy, and it’s free!

Tech: Could you be anymore annoying? Crosshair: Yes.

Wrecker: We’re kind of missing something guys. Omega: Cohesion? Crosshair: Teamwork? Tech: A general sense of what we’re doing? Echo: And Hunter is not here. Omega: Oh, and that, yeah.

Tech: The adjective for metal is metallic. Tech: But not so for iron, which is ironic. Crosshair: It's 3am.

Crosshair: *sneaking in through the window* Echo: *turning in his chair and flicking the light on* You want to tell me where you've been all night? Crosshair: I was with Hunter? Hunter: *turning in his chair* Wanna try again?

Echo: Let's get personal. What's the hardest thing you've ever had to say? Tech: I need help. Hunter: I'm sorry. Crosshair: I was wrong. Wrecker: Worcestershire sauce.

Omega, when Wrecker walks in: Oh, hey, I'm just making pizza. Omega: *accidentally smacks Tech in the face with the baking sheet*

Echo: What's gone wrong, Hunter? Hunter: Hey! That’s one hell of a thing to say to a person. Just because I’m calling doesn’t mean there’s a crisis. Echo: That’s technically true, I suppose. Why are you calling? Hunter: Well... There’s a crisis.

Wrecker: Omega, can you help me? All of my clothes keep disappearing for some reason. Omega, wearing a hoodie that's 5 times bigger than her size: Spooky.

Tech: Throw lamps at people who need to lighten up, and throw handles at someone who needs to get a grip! Hunter: Throw a refrigerator at someone who needs to chill! Echo: Throw scissors at someone who needs to cut it out! Wrecker: Throw a clock at someone who needs to get with the times! Omega: Throw matches at someone who needs to get fired up! Crosshair: Throw a brick at someone to kill them.

Tech: You're pathetic! Wrecker: You're pathetic-er! Crosshair: You're both losers.

Hunter walking into the kitchen and seeing all their limes peeled: Wrecker, I love you but, what the h-e-double FUCK. Wrecker, sipping coffee happily: I love you too :)

Tech: You need to stop swearing so much. Echo: Shut the fuck up. Tech: Yeah, that's not how you do it. Echo: Alright sorry. It's just that it's hard not to swear. The words just creep up on me when I least expect it. Tech: Now now, don't be like that. Just replace the swear words with 'beep' and you'll be fine. Echo: Shit the beep up. Tech: Echo: SHUT, DAMMIT! I MEANT SHUT!

Omega: If I run and leap at Hunter, he will most certainly catch me in his arms. Omega, running towards Hunter: Coming in! Hunter: No! I’m holding coffee! Hunter: *Drops coffee and catches Omega*

Wrecker: I think this might be a bad idea... Crosshair: Don't start thinking on me now!

Tech: Just be careful, Wrecker! Wrecker: *heading out the door* I'm always careful, Tech! Wrecker: It's everything around me that's careless.

Hunter: I hope you have an explanation for this. Wrecker: We have three actually- Tech: Pick your favorite.

Echo: I have so much energy, I want to run a marathon or commit a crime... which should I do? Hunter: Please don’t get arrested. Echo: No promises! <3 Tech: Why not both? Get creative! Echo: Wonderful suggestion, thank you. Hunter: Please don’t encourage them, Tech.

Crosshair & Omega: *accidentally set the kitchen on fire* Crosshair: We need an adult! Omega: Crosshair, you are an adult! Crosshair: We need an adultier adult! Get Hunter!

Tech, gardening: Hey, can you bring me the hoe? Echo: Yeah, sure. *A few minutes later* Echo: Here you go. Tech: Echo: Crosshair: Why am I here?

#incorrect bad batch quotes #incorrect quotes #the bad batch #tbb #star wars #echo chose chaos this time

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azirapherale · 6 months

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Of things unsaid

AZIRAPHALE Ah, yes, I thought perhaps they might send you. [beat] Well.. [beat] I’m ready to go. CROWLEY Go where? AZIRAPHALE To Hell. CROWLEY I’m not taking you to Hell, angel. Notice Crowley doesn't confirm or deny being sent to take Aziraphale to Hell. Just that he - who was ordered to slaughter the blameless goats of blameless Job's and did. not. do. it. - is not doing this either.

AZIRAPHALE Why not? CROWLEY Well, I don’t think you’d like it.

"Why not?" is answered with a deflection that is more or less an "I don't want to," and very much not a denial that he was sent to do it. And if not liking Hell is a reason for an angel to not be taken there, no angels should ever have gone. It is by definition and design a miserable penal colony for wayward angels, such that none of them like it.

AZIRAPHALE But you have to. I’m like you now: A demon. CROWLEY (laughing) Sorry. You think you’re a demon? With your curly little… and your neat white…

Making fun of Aziraphale for suggesting that he's a demon is another deflection. Crowley does not deny Aziraphale's claim/worry/supposition that he is a demon. It's implied by the joke that he isn't, but only because the joke relies on the incorrect premise that demons cannot have cute curly hair or neat white clothes, like it's an immutable law of celestial physics or an unbreakable sumptuary law. Hmm...

I'm not even going to bother showing you images of Crowley's curly hair because we both know there's more pictures of his curly hair on your phone than there is of your own family.

AZIRAPHALE I’m a fallen angel! I lied. To thwart the will of God. CROWLEY Well, yeah, you did but… I’m not gonna tell anybody. Are you? AZIRAPHALE (Shakes head no) CROWLEY No. Then nothing has to change, does it? Again Crowley does not deny Aziraphale's assertion that he is a Fallen Angel, whereas, tellingly, he does confirm that Aziraphale lied to thwart the will of God. Then they enter into their first ever arrangement, which is quite possibly thwarting the will of God even more.

AZIRAPHALE (long pause) But what am I? CROWLEY You’re just an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can.

That sounds like a shift away from the Heaven faction to me. One very fascinating thing about Good Omens, the magic of holy water and hellfire notwithstanding, there doesn't seem to be much difference between angels and demons beyond aesthetics and political faction. Even being "good" or "evil" is an aesthetic. None of the demons seem to actually know what "evil" is and are flummoxed when humans come up with far worse than occurs to them. Most of the angels do horrible things but call them "good," a rose by any other name and all that.

AZIRAPHALE That sounds um… CROWELY Lonely? AZIRAPHALE (Nods) CROWLEY Yeah. AZIRAPHALE But you said it wasn’t! CROWLEY I’m a demon. I lied.

Nice touch, that, lamp-shading lying by bringing it up in a conversation that one can easily suspect may be constructed out of a pile of lies (even if they are lies of omission)

In light of all that, I would like you to think about the poetry of this scene in which Aziraphale, never having had his Grace boiled out of him in Hell, excises it himself or some goodly portion of it anyway, and casts it down with his own hand, for his own reasons, with his own free will.

#good omens 2 #meta #textual analysis #aziraphale #angelic halo #subtext #I feel that the later scene echos the former #grrr tumblr won't let me format this like a script

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voidartisan · 8 months

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playing around with an incorrect quote generator and came up with some gems

Ahsoka: Why are you late? Obi-Wan: A technical error occurred, causing an unexpectedly long bout of unconsciousness. Ahsoka: Overslept? Obi-Wan: Overslept.

Ahsoka: I am the most responsible person in the group. Obi-Wan: …You just set the kitchen on fire. Ahsoka: Yes, and I take full responsibility for that.

Obi-Wan: Ahsoka, why are you crying? Ahsoka: This book is so sad!! Obi-Wan, picking it up: But this is my diary-

Crosshair: What, in the name of sanity, have you got on your head? Tech: It's a fez, I wear a fez now. Fezzes are cool. Wrecker: *snatches the fez, throws it in the air* Crosshair: *shoots it*

Tech: Do we have any orange juice left? Crosshair: *pours the remaining juice into his cup* Crosshair: Sorry, we’re all out.

Crosshair: There’s no “I” in team, but there is one in pizza. Tech: So, you’re not going to share? Crosshair: I’m not going to share.

Omega: We’re kind of missing something guys. Echo: Cohesion? Crosshair: Teamwork? Tech: A general sense of what we’re doing? Hunter: And Wrecker is not here. Echo: Oh, and that, yeah.

Hunter: This is a judgement free zone. *Pulls out a knife the size of his forearm* Hunter: And I mean it.

Echo: Are you mad? Hunter: No. Echo: So sharpening your knives at 3 in the morning is just a hobby?

Fox: You are the love of my life and I would do anything within reason to make you happy. Riyo: I would be happy if you ate, stayed hydrated and got a reasonable amount of sleep. Fox: I said within reason, Riyo. How about I murder that guy? Riyo: So murder is in reason but proper self care isn't? Fox: Well, duh. What kind of question is that?

Fox: Hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers? Riyo: Peonies, why? Fox: Riyo: Were you going to get me flowers? Fox: Riyo: Fox: ᶦᵗ’ˢ ᵃ ᵖᵒˢˢᶦᵇᶦˡᶦᵗʸ

Fox: Riyo and I are no longer dating. Riyo: Fox, that’s a horrible way of telling people we’re married.

Satine : I want to kiss you. Obi-Wan, not paying attention: What? Satine : I said if you die, I wont miss you.

Satine : I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response. Obi-Wan: Wow. They sound stupid. Satine : But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense. Obi-Wan: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!” Satine : I guess you’re right. Hey Obi-Wan, I love you. Obi-Wan: See! Just say that! Satine : Obi-Wan: If that flies over their head then, sorry Satine , but they're too dumb for you. Satine : Obi-Wan.

Satine : I think I'm falling for you. Obi-Wan: Then get up.

Cody : You have an impressive pain tolerance. Obi-Wan: Thanks, it's the trauma.

Cody , holding an unconscious Obi-Wan: Oh no. Please don’t be dead.

Obi-Wan: You know what? Let’s give it a go. What’s the worst that could happen? Cody : Humiliation, embarrassment, fire, explosions, collisions, tears, nudity and death.

Obi-Wan: Turns on the kitchen light Cody : Sitting at the table, eating bread Obi-Wan: It’s four in the morning. Cody : Turn the light back off.

Rex: Are you alright? Ahsoka: Short answer or long answer? Rex: Short? Ahsoka: No. Rex: Long? Ahsoka: Nooooooo.

Rex: I found a note in one of my old word .docs that said Note to self: Get revenge on Ahsoka. Rex: Except I couldn't remember what I was supposed to get revenge for. Rex: But I trusted my own judgment, so I went with it. Ahsoka: Hmm… I don't know what you were supposed to get revenge for, either. Rex: I can only assume you got what was coming to you. Not 100 percent sure, though. Ahsoka: Well, whatever I did, I guess I deserved it. Rex: Let that possibly be a lesson to you.

Rex: My goal is not to be the best, but to inspire someone enough to one day surpass me. Ahsoka: YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT EVERY TIME YOU BEAT ME AT CONNECT FOUR!

Rex: I'm going to ask you to be respectful. Ahsoka: I will politely decline.

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hamiltonaf · 11 months

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Expecting the Unexpected | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Female Reader

Requested: Anonymous

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: Angst but turns into fluff / Kind of smutish towards the end / Cursing if you squint.

A/N: Thanks to anon for requesting. Currently working on other requests so hopefully they will be posted soon. Hope you guys enjoy .xoxo

2 years of marriage. It went by very quickly but gosh it annoys me being asked that one question since the day we were married. When are you guys having a baby ?

Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love kids and of course I want to see Kylian being a dad, but the idea of having a baby right now at the age of 23 wasn’t part of my plan. Studying a post graduate degree isn’t easy and especially going to work in between. I’ve heard it countless of times to drop work and studying because Kylian is there for me, but all I really want is independence and not having to hear one day that I used Kylian.

As family oriented as I am, I’ve come to a point where I try to avoid meeting any family - my own included - just to avoid being asked the dreaded question. I hate the idea that straight after getting married, all that’s left is to have kids… why can’t married couples enjoy their life for a few years at least before growing their family ?

Since Kylian’s season was over, my mother-in-law had invited Kylian and I for dinner. I was willing to go for dinner since I haven’t seen my in-laws in a while, but my mood turned sour when my boss instructed me that I needed to stay behind and do corrections to my work that was apparently incorrect.

Kylian had texted me asking me where I was and I replied back apologising that I won’t make it to dinner because my boss was holding me back to do extra work. He left me on read.

The corrections drove me insane because I did as I was told to do, but yet my boss gaslighted me saying that he told me to do something else. Asshole. I left work 2 hours later and went straight home, not knowing if Kylian was back from dinner or if he was still with his family.

As soon as I unlocked the door, I dropped my keys on the kitchen counter along with my bag. I could hear the TV playing and walked my way to the lounge. “Oh you’re here. Sorry I missed dinner. My boss was being such an ass and gaslighted me saying-“ “Save it” he cut me off as he continued to watch the TV. “Excuse me ? What do you mean save it ? I literally told you that my boss was holding me back to do extra work, I didn’t have a choice !” I raised my voice as I walked around the couch to stand in front of him with folded arms. His ‘don’t-care’ attitude was driving me insane, he literally had the audacity to continue watching TV.

“Kylian. I had a long day and the last thing I want is for us to argue” I toned down my voice. “I’m so done making excuses for you” he said as he finally met my gaze. “What excuse ? You didn’t even give me a chance to finish ! I was saying that my boss gaslighted me into thinking I did the wrong work when I literally followed his instructions. He held me back because he wanted me to correct it” I started to grow annoyed. “Lies lies and more lies. Just admit it (Y/N), you didn’t want to come to dinner because you’re worried about them asking you when we’re going to be parents. Do you know how embarrassing it is for me ? Our relationship looks so one sided” he raised his voice as he stood up and towered me.

“One sided ? You know that’s a lie. Also, enlighten me on how it’s embarrassing for you when I’m the one who’s expected to carry our child, not you ! So do tell me how you’re the one under pressure” I raised my brows. “How do I answer my mum when she asks me when will she be a grandmother ? What do you want me to say ? Oh don’t expect to be a grandmother any time soon because (Y/N) isn’t interested in having a child !” He yelled in my face.

“I- you know what, I can’t continue this conversation any further” I said calmly as possible before walking away from him. “No, we’re not done talking. Why do you keep running away from your problems ?” He asked as he followed me. “Can you just shut up ! Ugh !” I groaned as I walked to our room. With all my built up frustration and stress, I could feel tears start to pool at my eyes.

“(Y/N) answer me !” He said as I came to a halt. I looked up in hopes of getting rid of my tears, but the second I turned to look at Kylian the tears threatened to spill. His look softened when he saw the tears run down my face. He stepped closer and cupped my cheeks. “I’m sorry ma chérie” he said as he wiped my tears away with the pad of his thumb. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths to try, and calm down. I walked away from him and walked to our en suite to lock myself in the bathroom.

He started knocking on the door and calling out,“Ma chérie, I’m so so sorry. Please forgive me. I hate fighting with you and seeing you cry. I’m just so frustrated from being asked the same question over and over.” I don’t know what came over me but I couldn’t stop crying to myself. I was so focused on my thoughts and emotions that Kylian’s words were inaudible.

After a minute the door had suddenly burst open. I looked up in shock to Kylian as he rushed to my side and pulled me in for a hug. “Please don’t scare me like that” he said softly. I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand and turned to look at him. “Are you crying ?” I asked as I half smiled. He nodded as I wiped away his tears. “Please talk to me. Tell me what’s going on. I hate being left in the dark, I don’t know what else to tell our family. Why can’t we have a baby ?” He asked.

“I love you Ky. I really do…but having a child after 2 years of being married wasn’t part of my family planning” I pouted. He pressed his lips together as a sign for me to continue.

He remained silent for me to get to my point. “Ky, if I barely spend time with you, why would I even think of us having a child right now ? I won’t lie that at times I did think that maybe us being parents would change things for the better but I kept holding back because I have too much on my hands right now” I said as I avoided his gaze. “Babe, then why don’t you drop studying and working ? Why put yourself through so much when I can be the one to provide for you and our baby” he said as he brushed a strand of hair away from my face. “It’s easy for you to say but I just happen to enjoy being independent. It’s how I’ve always been growing up, besides that, the last thing I want to hear is people calling me a gold digger or user blah blah. I didn’t marry you for your money, I married you because I love you” I pouted.

He broke into a smile as he cupped my cheeks and pulled me in for a sweet kiss. “Please don’t worry about what other people think. What’s mine is yours…I love you so so much. I’m sorry again for snapping at you, besides being asked that question so many times, I myself had questioned when will the day come that we’ll have our own mini us” he smiled at the thought. “I know you said that we barely spend time together, I’ll also take the blame for not spending more time with you when there were times that I could’ve made the effort. Again, I’m sorry for not being the greatest husband, I’ll try to do better” he said as he held my hands and rubbed small circles with his thumb.

“Please stop apologising. You’ve been such an amazing husband to me. I know this whole thing got blown out of proportion, we should have had this conversation sooner” I sighed as I pulled him along with me to sit at the edge of our bed. “I agree, but don’t feel pressured into doing anything. I get it” he said as he held my face with one hand. “This timing is really bad but I don’t think I can keep it a secret any longer. I’m pregnant” I pressed my lips together. “Stop playing with me babe” he half laughed. “Ky I’m serious. I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a dad !” I squealed.

“Wait. Really ?” He asked again. I nodded my head as he then screamed and jumped up whilst punching his hands in the air. Once again he cupped my cheeks and placed his lips on mine. He then lifted me up and spun us around the room. “I can’t explain to you how happy I am ! Why didn’t you tell me sooner and when did you find out ?” He asked eagerly.

“I found out about 2 days ago. I did a test because my period was late for about 2 weeks and I thought it was just one of those moments where it’s rarely late, I don’t know what made me take a test and a few minutes later I found out. I was planning to do a whole cute reveal for you but like I said, everything had gotten blown out of proportion. You didn’t know this, but I was actually looking forward to coming to dinner, I thought I could reveal it tonight just amongst our immediate family but then I was genuinely upset by my boss” I half smiled. “Oh no. Now I feel even more terrible. Babe I really am so sorry I just-“ I cut him off by grabbing his face and connecting our lips together.

Our lips moved in sync as he walked backwards to the edge of the bed. “Stop apologising” I said as I straddled his lap and broke away from our kiss. “I can’t believe we’re going to be parents. I can’t wait to be a dad. More especially, I can’t wait to see you grow and carry our baby. You’re already so sexy, I don’t know how I’ll contain myself seeing you from now on. I say that this calls for a celebration” he smirked. “I was hoping you’d say something like that” I wrapped my arms around his neck and closed the gap between us.

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hopelesslys-world · 10 months

Text

50 SHADES OF FUCKED UP | CH. 1

Pairing: Christian Grey x innocent!reader

TRIGGER WARNINGS!: TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, reader is kind of a bimbo, heavily detailed smut, basically porn, loss of virginity, harsh language, anger issues, stalking, obsession, jealousy, controlling behaviour, DOM-SUB themes, BDSM Expand considered to be portrayed with incorrect/poor etiquette, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse/assault, statutory rape.

Tell me if I missed anything...( As you can see most of the warnings will appear in future chapters. )

I apologize for any grammar mistakes...

Y/M/N: Your Middle Name

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

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*𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙋𝙊𝙑*

┅┅

𝐈 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐈𝐍 the reflection of the mirror. Damn my hair—it just won’t behave! And also damn Isabella Clark for being ill and subjecting me to this ordeal. I should be studying for my final exams, which are next week, yet here I am trying to brush my hair into submission.

I must not sleep with it wet. I must not sleep with it wet. Reciting this mantra several times, I attempt, once more, to bring it under control with the brush. I roll my eyes in exasperation and gaze at my reflection in the mirror, you blow dry your hair into oblivion and with the help of some hairspray you managed to put your soft curls into place.

Now you finally look somewhat presentable.

Bella is my roommate, and she has chosen today of all days to succumb to the flu. Therefore, she cannot attend the interview she’d arranged to do, with some mega-industrialist tycoon I’ve never heard of, for the student newspaper. So I have been volunteered.

I have final exams to cram for, one essay to finish, and I’m supposed to be working this afternoon, but no–today I have to drive a hundred and sixty-five miles to downtown Seattle in order to meet the enigmatic CEO of Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

As an exceptional entrepreneur and major benefactor of our University, his time is extraordinarily precious—much more precious than mine–but he has granted Bella an interview. A real coup, she tells me.

Damn her extra-curricular activities.

Bella is huddled on the couch in the living room. “Y/N, I’m sorry. It took me nine months to get this interview. It will take another six to reschedule, and we’ll both have graduated by then. As the editor, I can’t blow this off. Please,” Bella begs me in her rasping, sore throat voice.

How does she do it? Even ill she looks gamine and gorgeous, strawberry blonde hair in place and green eyes bright, although now red-rimmed and runny. I ignore my pang of unwelcome sympathy.

“Of course I’ll go Bella. You should get back to bed. Would you like some Nyquil or Tylenol?”

“Nyquil, please. Here are the questions and my mini-disc recorder. Just press record here. Make notes, I’ll transcribe it all.”

“I know nothing about him,” I murmur, trying and failing to suppress my rising panic.

“The questions will see you through. Go. It’s a long drive. I don’t want you to be late.”

“Okay, I’m going. Get back to bed. I made you some soup to heat up later.” I stare at her fondly. Only for you, Bella, would I do this.

“I will. Good luck. And thanks Y/N/N – as usual, you’re my lifesaver.”

Gathering my things, I smile wryly at her, then head out the door to the car. I cannot believe I have let Bella talk me into this. But then Bella can talk anyone into anything.

She’ll make an exceptional journalist. She’s articulate, strong, persuasive, argumentative, beautiful – and she’s my dearest, dearest friend.

The roads are clear as I set off from Vancouver, WA toward Portland and the I-5. It’s early, and I don’t have to be in Seattle until two this afternoon. Fortunately, Bella’s lent me her sporty Mercedes CLK.

I’m not sure Wanda, my old VW Beetle, would make the journey in time. Oh, the Mercedes is a fun drive, and the miles slip away as I floor the pedal to the metal.

My destination is the headquarters of Mr. Grey’s global enterprise. It’s a huge twenty-story office building, all curved glass and steel, an architect’s utilitarian fantasy, with Grey House written discreetly in steel over the glass front doors.

It’s a quarter to two when I arrive, greatly relieved that I’m not late as I walk into the enormous – and frankly intimidating – glass, steel, and white sandstone lobby.

Behind the solid sandstone desk, a very attractive, groomed, blonde young woman smiles pleasantly at me. She’s wearing the sharpest charcoal suit jacket and white shirt I have ever seen. She looks immaculate.

“I’m here to see Mr. Grey. Y/N Y/L/N for Isabella Clark.”

“Excuse me one moment, Miss Y/L/N.” She arches her eyebrow slightly as I stand self-consciously before her. I am beginning to wish I’d borrowed one of Bella’s formal blazers.

My outfit definitely didn't suit for something like this, but at the same time I've neve done anything like this.

I love my skirts, basically all of my closet is filled with skirts, dresses, sweaters and the occasional jeans and formal pants.

For me, this is smart. I tuck one of the escaped tendrils of my hair behind my ear as I pretend she doesn’t intimidate me.

“Miss Clark is expected. Please sign in here, Miss Y/L/N. You’ll want the last elevator on the right, press for the twentieth floor.” She smiles kindly at me, amused no doubt, as I sign in.

She hands me a security pass that has VISITOR very firmly stamped on the front. I can’t help my smirk. Surely it’s obvious that I’m just visiting. I don’t fit in here at all. Nothing changes, I inwardly sigh. Thanking her, I walk over to the bank of elevators pastthe two security men who are both far more smartly dressed than I am in their well-cut black suits.

The elevator whisks me with terminal velocity to the twentieth floor. The doors slide open, and I’m in another large lobby – again all glass, steel, and white sandstone. I’m confronted by another desk of sandstone and another young blonde woman dressed impeccably in black and white who rises to greet me.

“Miss Y/L/N, could you wait here, please?” She points to a seated area of white leather chairs.

Behind the leather chairs is a spacious glass-walled meeting room with an equally spacious dark wood table and at least twenty matching chairs around it. Beyond that, there is a floor-to-ceiling window with a view of the Seattle skyline that looks out through the city toward the Sound. It’s a stunning vista, and I’m momentarily paralyzed by the view. Wow.

I sit down, fish the questions from my bag, and go through them, inwardly cursing Bella for not providing me with a brief biography. I know nothing about this man I’m about to interview. He could be ninety or he could be thirty.

The uncertainty is galling, and my nerves resurface, making me fidget. I’ve never been comfortable with one-on-one interviews, preferring the anonymity of a group discussion where I can sit inconspicuously at the back of the room. To be honest, I prefer my own company, reading a classic British novel, curled up in a chair in the campus library. Not sitting twitching nervously in a colossal glass and stone edifice.

I roll my eyes at myself. Get a grip, Y/N. Judging from the building, which is too clinical and modern, I guess Grey is in his forties: fit, tanned, and fair-haired to match the rest of the personnel.

Another elegant, flawlessly dressed blonde comes out of a large door to the right. What is it with all the immaculate blondes? It’s like Stepford here.

Taking a deep breath, I stand up.

“Miss Y/L/N?” the latest blonde asks.

“Yes,” I croak, and clear my throat. “Yes.” There, that sounded more confident.

“Mr. Grey will see you in a moment. May I take your coat?”

“Oh please.” I struggle out of the long black coat.

“Have you been offered any refreshment?”

“Um – no.”

Oh dear, is Blonde Number One in trouble?

Blonde Number Two frowns and eyes the young woman at the desk.

“Would you like tea, coffee, water?” she asks, turning her attention back to me.

“A glass of water. Thank you,” I murmur.

“Olivia, please fetch Miss Y/L/N a glass of water.” Her voice is stern. Olivia scoots up immediately and scurries to a door on the other side of the foyer.

“My apologies, Miss Y/L/N, Olivia is our new intern. Please be seated. Mr. Grey will be another five minutes.”

Olivia returns with a glass of iced water.

“Here you go, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Thank you.”

Blonde Number Two marches over to the large desk, her heels clicking and echoing on the sandstone floor. She sits down, and they both continue their work.

Perhaps Mr. Grey insists on all his employees being blonde. I’m wondering idly if that’s legal, when the office door opens and a tall, elegantly dressed, attractive man with short dreads exits. I have definitely worn the wrong clothes.

He turns and says through the door. “Golf, this week, Grey.”

I don’t hear the reply. He turns, sees me, and smiles, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners. Olivia has jumped up and called the elevator. She seems to excel at jumping from her seat. She’s more nervous than me!

“Good afternoon ladies,” he says as he departs through the sliding door.

“Mr. Grey will see you now, Miss Y/L/N. Do go through,” Blonde Number Two says.

I stand rather shakily trying to suppress my nerves. Gathering up my bag, I abandon my glass of water and make my way to the partially open door.

“You don’t need to knock – just go in.” She smiles kindly.

I push open the door and stumble through the impressively giant office. I notice a man his face hidden behind the computer. But in a moment he raises his head and approaches me.

That's when I see his face.

Holy Cow, his young nothing like I'd imagined him.

“Miss Clark” He extends a long-fingered hand to me. “I’m Christian Grey.”

So young – and attractive, very attractive. He’s tall, dressed in a fine gray suit, white shirt, and black tie with unruly dark copper colored hair and intense, bright gray eyes that regard me shrewdly. It takes a moment for me to find my voice.

“Um. Actually–” I mutter. If this guy is over thirty then I’m a monkey’s uncle. In a daze, I place my hand in his and we shake. As our fingers touch, I feel an odd exhilarating shiver run through me. I withdraw my hand hastily, embarrassed. Must be static.

I blink rapidly, my eyelids matching my heart rate. “Miss Clark is indisposed, so she sent me. I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Grey.”

“And you are?” His voice is warm, possibly amused, but it’s difficult to tell from his impassive expression. He looks mildly interested, but above all, polite.

“Y/N Y/L/N. I’m studying English Literature with Bella, um… Isabella… um… Miss Clark at Washington State.”

“I see,” he says simply. I think I see the ghost of a smile in his expression, but I’m not sure.

“Would you like to sit?” He waves me toward a white leather buttoned L-shaped couch.

His office is way too big for just one man. In front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, there’s a huge modern dark-wood desk that six people could comfortably eat around. It matches the coffee table by the couch. Everything else is white – ceiling, floors, and walls except, on the wall by the door, where a mosaic of small paintings hang, thirty-six of them arranged in a square. They are exquisite – a series of mundane, forgotten objects painted in such precise detail they look like photographs. Displayed together, they are breathtaking.

“A local artist. Trouton,” says Grey when he catches my gaze.

“They’re lovely. Raising the ordinary to extraordinary,” I murmur, distracted both by him and the paintings. He cocks his head to one side and regards me intently.

“I couldn’t agree more, Miss Y/L/N,” he replies, his voice soft and for some inexplicable reason I find myself blushing.

Apart from the paintings, the rest of the office is cold, clean, and clinical. I wonder if it reflects the personality of the person who sinks gracefully into one of the white leather chairs opposite me. I shake my head, disturbed at the direction of my thoughts, and retrieve Bella’s questions from my bag.

Next, I set up the mini-disc recorder and am all fingers and thumbs, dropping it twice on the coffee table in front of me. Mr. Grey says nothing, waiting patiently – I hope – as I become increasingly embarrassed and flustered. When I pluck up the courage to look at him, he’s watching me, one hand relaxed in his lap and the other cupping his chin and trailing his long index finger across his lips. I think he’s trying to suppress a smile.

“Sorry,” I stutter. “I’m not used to this.”

“Take all the time you need, Miss Y/L/N,” he says.

“Do you mind if I record your answers?”

“After you’ve taken so much trouble to set up the recorder – you ask me now?”

I flush. He’s teasing me? I hope. I smile shyly, unsure what to say, and I think he takes pity on me because he relents. “No, I don’t mind.”

“Did Bella, I mean, Miss Clark, explain what the interview was for?”

“Yes. To appear in the graduation issue of the student newspaper as I shall be conferring the degrees at this year’s graduation ceremony.”

Oh! This is news to me, and I’m temporarily pre-occupied by the thought that someone not much older than me – okay, maybe six years or so, and okay, mega successful, but still – is going to present me with my degree.

I frown, dragging my wayward attention back to the task at hand.

“Good,” I swallow nervously. “I have some questions, Mr. Grey.” I smooth a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

“I thought you might,” he says, deadpan. He’s laughing at me. My cheeks heat at the realization, and I sit up and square my shoulders in an attempt to look taller and more intimidating. Pressing the start button on the recorder, I try to look professional.

“You’re very young to have amassed such an empire. To what do you owe your success?” I glance up at him. His smile is rueful, but he looks vaguely disappointed.

“Business is all about people, Miss Y/L/N, and I’m very good at judging people. I know how they tick, what makes them flourish, what doesn’t, what inspires them, and how to incentivize them. I employ an exceptional team, and I reward them well.” He pauses and fixes me with his gray stare.

“My belief is to achieve success in any scheme one has to make oneself master of that scheme, know it inside and out, know every detail. I work hard, very hard to do that. I make decisions based on logic and facts. I have a natural gut instinct that can spot and nurture a good solid idea and good people. The bottom line is, it’s always down to good people.”

“Maybe you’re just lucky.” This isn’t on Bella’s list – but he’s so arrogant. His eyes flare momentarily in surprise.

“I don’t subscribe to luck or chance, Miss Y/L/N. The harder I work the more luck I seem to have. It really is all about having the right people on your team and directing theirenergies accordingly. I think it was Harvey Firestone who said ‘the growth and development of people is the highest calling of leadership.’ ”

“You sound like a control freak.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“Oh, I exercise control in all things, Miss Y/L/N,” he says without a trace of humor in his smile. I look at him, and he holds my gaze steadily, impassive. My heartbeat quickens, and my face flushes again.

Why does he have such an unnerving effect on me? His overwhelming good-looks maybe? The way his eyes blaze at me? The way he strokes his index finger against his lower lip? I wish he’d stop doing that.

“Besides, immense power is acquired by assuring yourself in your secret reveries that you were born to control things,” he continues, his voice soft.

“Do you feel that you have immense power?” Control Freak.

“I employ over forty thousand people Miss Y/L/N. That gives me a certain sense of responsibility – power, if you will. If I were to decide I was no longer interested in the telecommunications business and sell up, twenty thousand people would struggle to make their mortgage payments after a month or so.”

My mouth drops open. I am staggered by his lack of humility. “Don’t you have a board to answer to?” I ask, disgusted.

“I own my company. I don’t have to answer to a board.” He raises an eyebrow at me.

I flush. Of course, I would know this if I had done some research. But holy crap, he’s so arrogant. I change tack.

“And do you have any interests outside your work?”

“I have varied interests, Miss Y/L/N.” A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “Very varied.”

And for some reason, I’m confounded and heated by his steady gaze. His eyes are alight with some wicked thought.

“But if you work so hard, what do you do to chill out?”

“Chill out?” He smiles, revealing perfect white teeth. I stop breathing. He really is beautiful. No one should be this good-looking.

“Well, to ‘chill out’ as you put it – I sail, I fly, I indulge in various physical pursuits.”

He shifts in his chair. “I’m a very wealthy man, Miss Y/L/N, and I have expensive and absorbing hobbies.”

I glance quickly at Bella’s questions, wanting to get off this subject.

“You invest in manufacturing. Why, specifically?” I ask. Why does he make me so uncomfortable?

“I like to build things. I like to know how things work: what makes things tick, how to construct and deconstruct. And I have a love of ships. What can I say?”

“That sounds like your heart talking rather than logic and facts.”

His mouth quirks up, and he stares appraisingly at me. “Possibly. Though there are people who’d say I don’t have a heart.”

“Why would they say that?” I ask, intrigued by that information.

“Because they know me well.” His lip curls in a wry smile.

“Would your friends say you’re easy to get to know?” And I regret the question as soon as I say it. It’s not on Bella’s list.

“I’m a very private person, Miss Y/L/N. I go a long way to protect my privacy. I don’t often give interviews,” he trails off.

“Why did you agree to do this one?”

“Because I’m a benefactor of the University, and for all intents and purposes, I couldn’t get Miss Clark off my back. She badgered and badgered my PR people, and I admire that kind of tenacity.”

I know how tenacious Bella can be. That’s why I’m sitting here squirming uncomfortably under his penetrating gaze, when I should be studying for my exams.

“You also invest in farming technologies. Why are you interested in this area?”

“We can’t eat money, Miss Y/L/N, and there are too many people on this planet who don’t have enough to eat.”

“That sounds very philanthropic. Is it something you feel passionately about? Feeding the world’s poor?”

He shrugs, very non-committal. “It’s shrewd business,” he shrugs, though I think he’s being disingenuous. It doesn’t make sense – feeding the world’s poor? I can’t see the financial benefits of this, only the virtue of the ideal. I glance at the next question, confused by his attitude.

“Do you have a philosophy? If so, what is it?”

“I don’t have a philosophy as such. Maybe a guiding principle. I’m very singular, driven. I like control – of myself and those around me.”

“So you want to possess things?” You are a control freak.

“I want to deserve to possess them, but yes, bottom line, I do.”

“You sound like the ultimate consumer.”

“I am.” He smiles, but the smile doesn’t touch his eyes. Again this is at odds with someone who wants to feed the world, so I can’t help thinking that we’re talking about something else, but I’m absolutely mystified as to what it is. I swallow hard. The temperature in the room is rising or maybe it’s just me. I just want this interview to be over.

Surely Bella has enough material now? I glance at the next question.“You were adopted. How far do you think that’s shaped the way you are?”

Oh, this is personal. I stare at him, hoping he’s not offended. His brow furrows. “I have no way of knowing.”

My interest is piqued.

“How old were you when you were adopted?”

“That’s a matter of public record, Miss Y/L/N.” His tone is stern. I flush, again. Crap.

Yes of course – if I’d known I was doing this interview, I would have done some research. I move on quickly.

“You’ve had to sacrifice a family life for your work.”

“That’s not a question.” He’s terse.

“Sorry.” I squirm, and he’s made me feel like an errant child. I try again. “Have you had to sacrifice a family life for your work?”

“I have a family. I have a brother and a sister and two loving parents. I’m not interested in extending my family beyond that.”

“Are you gay, Mr. Grey?”

He inhales sharply, and I cringe, mortified. Shoot. Why didn’t I employ some kind of filter before I read this straight out? How can I tell him I’m just reading the questions?

Damn Bella and her curiosity!

“No Y/N, I’m not.” He raises his eyebrows, a cool gleam in his eyes. He does

not look pleased.

“I apologize. It’s um… written here.” It’s the first time he’s said my name. My heartbeat has accelerated, and my cheeks are heating up again. Nervously, I tuck my loosened hair behind my ear.

He cocks his head to one side.

“These aren’t your own questions?”

The blood drains from my head. Oh no.

“Err… no. Bella – Miss Clark – she compiled the questions.”

“Are you colleagues on the student paper?”

I have nothing to do with the student paper. It’s her extra-curricular activity, not mine. My face is aflame. “No. She’s my roommate.”

He rubs his chin in quiet deliberation, his gray eyes appraising me. “Did you volunteer to do this interview?” he asks, his voice deadly quiet.

Hang on, who’s supposed to be interviewing whom? His eyes burn into me, and I’m compelled to answer with the truth.

“I was drafted. She’s not well.” My voice is weak and apologetic.

“That explains a great deal.”

There’s a knock at the door, and Blonde Number Two enters. “Mr. Grey, forgive me for interrupting, but your next meeting is in two minutes.”

“We’re not finished here, Andrea. Please cancel my next meeting.”

Andrea hesitates, gaping at him. She’s appears lost. He turns his head slowly to face her and raises his eyebrows. She flushes bright pink. Oh good. It’s not just me.

“Very well, Mr. Grey,” she mutters, then exits. He frowns, and turns his attention back to me.

“Where were we, Miss Y/L/N?”

Oh, we’re back to ‘Miss Y/L/N’ now.

“Please don’t let me keep you from anything.”

“I want to know about you. I think that’s only fair.” His gray eyes are alight with curiosity.

Where’s he going with this? He places his elbows on the arms of the chair and steeples his fingers in front of his mouth. His mouth is very… distracting. I swallow.

“There’s not much to know,” I say, flushing again.

“What are your plans after you graduate?”

I shrug, thrown by his interest. Come to Seattle with Bella, find a place, find a job. I haven’t really thought beyond my finals.

“I haven’t made any plans, Mr. Grey. I just need to get through my final exams.”

Which I should be studying for now rather than sitting in your palatial, swanky, sterile office, feeling uncomfortable under your penetrating gaze. “We run an excellent internship program here,” he says quietly.

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. Is he offering me a job? “Oh. I’ll bear that in mind,” I answer, completely confounded. “Though I’m not sure I’d fit in here.”

Oh no. I’m musing out loud again.

“Why do you say that?” He cocks his head to one side, intrigued, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” I’m uncoordinated, scruffy, and I’m not blonde.

“Not to me,” he murmurs. His gaze is intense, all humor gone, and strange muscles deep in my belly clench suddenly. I tear my eyes away from his scrutiny and stare blindly down at my knotted fingers.

What’s going on? I have to go – now. I lean forward to retrieve the recorder.

“Would you like me to show you around?” he asks.

“I’m sure you’re far too busy, Mr. Grey, and I do have a long drive.”

“You’re driving back to WSU in Vancouver?” He sounds surprised, anxious even. He glances out of the window. It’s begun to rain. “Well, you’d better drive carefully.” His tone is stern, authoritative.

Why should he care? “Did you get everything you need?” he adds.

“Yes sir,” I reply, packing the recorder into my bag. His eyes narrow, speculatively.

“Thank you for the interview, Mr. Grey.”

“The pleasure’s been all mine,” he says, polite as ever.

As I rise, he stands and holds out his hand.

“Until we meet again, Miss Y/L/N.” And it sounds like a challenge, or a threat, I’m not sure which. I frown.

When will we ever meet again? I shake his hand once more, astounded that that odd current between us is still there. It must be my nerves.

“Mr. Grey.” I nod at him. Moving with lithe athletic grace to the door, he opens it wide.

“Allow me to escort you outside.” He gives me a small smile.

He's so polite now.

“Sure, Mr. Grey,” I smile, and his smile widens. Together, we walk into the foyer. Andrea and Olivia both look up, equally surprised.

“Did you have a coat?” Grey asks.

“Yes.” Olivia leaps up and retrieves my black, which Grey takes from her before she can hand it to me. He holds it up and, feeling ridiculously self-conscious, I shrug it on.

Grey places his hands for a moment on my shoulders. I gasp at the contact. If he notices my reaction, he gives nothing away. His long index finger presses the button summoning the elevator, and we stand waiting – awkwardly on my part, coolly self-possessed on his.

The doors open, and I hurry in desperate to escape. I really need to get out of here. When I turn to look at him, he’s leaning against the doorway beside the elevator with one hand on the wall. He really is very, very good-looking. It’s distracting. His burning gray eyes gaze at me.

“Y/N,” he says as a farewell.

“Christian,” I reply. And mercifully, the doors close.

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travlersjoy444 · 1 year

Text

2012 Raph x reader Incorrect Quotes

Uhm...mostly, that is. There's a few that are just random TMNT 2012 incorrect quotes. This was very fun for me. Might do it again sometime if the mood strikes.

***

(Y/N), skipping rocks on a lake with Raph: It’s such a beautiful evening.

Raph: Yeah, it is.

Raph: *whispering* Take that you fucking lake.

***

(Y/N): Why does Leo always do the laundry so loudly?

Raph: So everyone knows that no one helps them out in the house.

Leo, in the distance: *slams the washing machine shut*

***

Raph: You’re giving me a sticker?

Mikey: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!”

Raph: I’m not a preschooler.

Mikey: Fine, I’ll take it back-

Raph: I earned this, back off.

***

Raph: Why am I always the bad guy?

(Y/N): Well, why am I the pretty one? We all have our thing.

***

(Y/N): Is Raph always like this when they lose?

Mikey: Oh, yes. You should've been there for the fabled 'Great Jenga Tantrum'.

Raph: yOU BUMPED THAT TABLE AND YOU KNOW IT!

***

(Y/N): Hey, wanna help me commit arson?

Leo: What the hell!?

(Y/N): Oh, sorry, my bad.

(Y/N), whispering: Wanna help me commit arson?

Leo, whispering: Of course. What do you need?

***

Casey: You know what bothers me? Bats. Why can bats fly?

Raph: Not again...

Casey: No. Seriously, who gave them the right? They're mammals! Mammals walk on land, no exceptions.

(Y/N): Just wait until you hear about whales.

Casey: What now?

***

Casey on Monday: *glues a dime to the sidewalk* Heh heh heh.

Casey on Wednesday: *walking down the street* Ooh hey! A dime!

***

(Y/N): When I met you I thought you were a real bitch.

Raph: What changed your mind?

(Y/N): Oh, I still think you’re a bitch, I’ve just grown to like that about you.

***

Leo: When I said you should try being friendlier this isn't what I meant.

Raph, stirring a cup of tea aggressively: Oh, so now I'm TOO friendly? There's no pleasing you.

(Y/N), who broke into their house an hour ago: Two sugars please.

Raph: Coming right up.

***

Casey: It’s funny how well you and Raph get along. Didn’t they hate you at first?

(Y/N): Raph hates everybody at first. It’s their way of reaching out to people.

***

Casey: We can bake these cookies at 400 degrees for 10 minutes or 4,000 degrees for 1 minute.

Donnie: No, that's not how you make cookies.

(Y/N): FLOOR IT!!

Casey: How about 4,000,000 degrees for 1 second?!?

Donnie: yOU'RE GONNA BURN THE HOUSE DOWN-

Casey: I'M GONNA HARNESS THE POWER OF THE FUCKING SUN TO MAKE COOKIES!

Raph: DO IT!

Donnie: NO-

***

Raph: What the fuck? People actually tell their crushes they like them??

(Y/N): What the hell do you do?

Raph: I die? What kinda question…

***

(Y/N): I made this friendship bracelet for you.

Raph: You know, I’m not really a jewelry person.

(Y/N): You don’t have to wear…

Raph: No, I’m gonna wear it forever. Back off.

***

Raph: *sneaking in through their window*

Leo: *turning in their chair and flicking the light one* You want to tell me where you've been all night?

Raph: I was with (Y/N)?

(Y/N): *turning in their chair* Wanna try again?

***

Raph, at (Y/N)'s funeral: I need a moment with them.

Everyone: Of course. *They leave*

Raph, leaning over (Y/N)′s coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead.

(Y/N): Yeah, no shit.

***

Raph: (Y/N), I don't like you.

(Y/N): What did you say?

Raph: You heard me!

(Y/N), internally: And it turns out I actually didn't hear what the fuck you just said.

***

*(Y/N) sneezes*

Raph: (Y/N), are you sick? Here, let me wrap you in a blanket and hand-feed you some warm soup while singing you a lullaby!

*Donnie sneezes*

Raph: Oh my god. Shut the hell up.

***

(Y/N): Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time?

Raph: ...So...as enemies??

(Y/N):

***

Raph: WHOEVER CAUSED THIS MESS IS GOING TO-

(Y/N): It was me...

Raph: ...Is going to be forgiven because everyone deserves a second chance.

***

Kidnapper: I have your partner.

(Y/N): What? I don't have a partner...

Kidnapper: Then who just called me a lowlife bitch and spit in my face?

(Y/N): Oh my god, you have Raph.

***

Raph: I want to kiss you.

(Y/N), not paying attention: What?

Raph: I said if you die, I won't miss you.

***

*(Y/N) is crying after a breakup*

Raph: There there, (Y/N).

(Y/N), still crying: Thanks, but how did you get into my room?

Raph: Great question—

***

Raph: *yawns*

(Y/N): Yeah, being that pretty must be tiring.

Raph: Then you must be exhausted.

Leo: Will you two shut up? Some of us are lonely.

***

Raph: Watcha doin?

(Y/N): Stealing my neighbour’s cat.

Raph: Scandalous.

Raph: Can I help?

***

(Y/N): Come on, Leo. Nobody actually believes that Raph is in love with me.

Leo, to The Squad: Raise your hand if you think that Raph is helplessly in love with (Y/N).

*Everyone raises their hand*

(Y/N): Raph, put your hand down.

***

(Y/N): Someone take me to art museums and make out with me.

Raph: But they said not to touch the masterpieces.

(Y/N): Well somebody's got to pin the artwork to the wall.

Leo, on a walkie talkie: This is Leo, those idiots are fucking around in the East wing again.

***

Mikey: I dare you to kiss the next person who walks into this room.

Raph: Screw that, I’m not kissing anyone.

*(Y/N) walks in*

Raph: Fine, I’ll do it. Rules are rules you know.

***

Raph: If you want my advice-

Donnie: No offense but you’re the last person I want relationship advice from. You tried to kill your significant other. Multiple times.

Raph: First off, that was before we started dating. Secondly, they’ve also tried to kill me.

(Y/N): It’s true. It was mutually attempted murder.

***

Casey: Time sensitive question how flirt boy.

Raph: Throw rocks at he.

Mikey: Hot Dogs.

(Y/N): Kill him.

Casey: Thanks guys.

***

Leo: Why do you look like that?

Raph, laying face-first on the floor: Like what?

Leo: Like you’re dead.

Raph: It’s because I’m dying. Fuck off.

Casey: Raph accidentally called (Y/N) “babe” in front of everyone today.

Raph: *sobs into the floor*

***

(Y/N): I'm so happy, I could kiss you!

Raph: Um...Neat.

*later*

Raph, lying face down on their bed: I said "Neat," Donnie. Who the fuck says neat these days?

It's not neat to say neat but I said it anyways because I'm fucking stupid.

Donnie, reading a book: Don't beat yourself up too much, Raph. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember what I did when Casey confessed their love for me?

Raph: Didn't you thank them?

Donnie: *closes the book and looks at the ceiling* I fucking thanked them.

***

(Y/N): How would you like your coffee?

Raph: As dark as my soul.

(Y/N): Got it, one cup of milk coming right up!

***

(Y/N): Raph, I need some advice.

Raph: You need advice from ME?

(Y/N): Yeah, frightening, isn't it?

***

(Y/N): *sighs* I have no friends...

Raph:

Raph: *coughs* Bitch, what am I? A roach?!

***

Leo: You need to stop swearing so much.

Raph: Shut the fuck up.

Leo: Yeah, that's not how you do it.

Raph: Alright sorry. It's just that it's hard not to swear. The words just creep up on me when I least expect it.

Leo: Now now, don't be like that. Just replace the swear words with 'beep' and you'll be fine.

Raph: Shit the beep up.

Leo:

Raph: SHUT, DAMMIT! I MEANT SHUT!

***

Raph: *is throwing stones at (Y/N)'s window*

(Y/N): You have a phone for a reason, Raph!

*THUD*

(Y/N): DID YOU JUST THROW YOUR PHONE AT MY WINDOW?!

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