#when im watching cricket im like so in it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lateatnewyork · 4 months ago

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COLONIZING AT ITS FINEST! 001

pairing: oscar piastri x indian!female!kohli!reader

summary: the indian women's cricket team is in australia the same time as the grid for their ODI tournament. and a certain rookie driver and a rookie cricketer fall for each other.

extra information: reader is kohli's younger sister and is 21, oscar wins the melbourne gp. reader went to a british boarding school so she knows like lando.

ynkohli

liked by BCCIWomens, ishankishan and 547,890 others me n the gang 💯renukasingh (virat's memes are top tier) view comments

viratkohli is that the only photo you could find ➥ ynkohli yeppers landonorris get into finals so i can watch 😞 ➥ ynkohli thats the plan user01 what's lando doing here ➥ ynsno1 yn went to a british boarding school and she met lando in britain when she was out. shes also a huge fan of f1 anushkasharma get the cup !! ➥ ynkohli will do 🫶 user54 why is she so famous compared to other cricketers? /genq ➥ user67 she was an influencer during her teenage years and everybody loved her cos shes rlly funny and shes also virat kohli's sister. mclaren 🏏👀 ➥ ynlover yo wtf ➥ user6 erm what ➥ user08 um renukasingh we ate those photos up ➥ ynkohli realsies!

mclaren

liked by ynkohli, oscarpiastri and 245,765 others i got two tickets to melbourne gp babyy view comments

ynkohli give them to me plsss 🙏 ➥ mclaren bet ➥ user05 IS SHE DATING SOMEONE ON THE GRID ➥ user49 not necessarily shes been a fan since she was a kid danielriccardo COME WITH ME SUNDAY DONT SAY MAYBE ➥ user67 going along with the caption is so him 😭🫶 maxverstappen watch me win... again ➥ lewishamilton hes a bit overconfident? ➥ landonorris ^ ➥ fernandoalonso ^ ➥ georgerussell ^ ➥ charlesleclerc ^ ➥ carlossainz55 ^ ➥ schecoperez ^ ➥ averagef1lover not the whole grid coming after max 😭 ➥ rbrmylove ok but is he wrong ➥ user07 if oscar doesn't win im gonna kms ➥ oscarpiastri dont do that 😓 ➥ user07 HOLY SHIT IM GONNA DIE WTF user03 this is a day after the odi finals 😭 if yn loses shes going to be so sad at the gp

BCCIWomens

liked by oscarpiastri, viratkohli and 350,905 little y/n kohli appreciation post because INDIA IS IN THE FINALS !!!! view comments

user09 what is oscar doing here ➥ ynsno1fan forrealsies user98 SHE DESERVES THIS SM ➥ user05 FR BRO user48 IM SO HAPPY

oscarpiastri

liked by viratkohli, landonorris and 463,218 others little gf appreciation post 💗 view comments

user58 OSCAR SOFT LAUNCHING WAS NOT ON MY 2024 BINGO CARD ➥ user48 SAME cricketlover whats virat doing here? ➥ user52 idk bro f1lover GUYS WHAT IF ITS YN KOHLI ➥ rbrmylove who?? ➥ f1lover shes an indian cricketer ➥ lestappenshipper BRO AND THE BCCI ACCOUNT POSTED AN APPRECIATION FOR YN AND OSCAR LIKED ➥ sixerhitter AND THE CAPTION ON THIS ONE logansargeant youre not slick ➥ oscarpiastri shut up ➥ averagef1fan LOGAN TELL US (ill give u three bucks) ➥ logansargeant I CANT (make it 300 and u have a deal) ➥ averagef1fan logan im broke ➥ logansargeant well too bad then user05 they look so happy in the last photo landonorris yk what big feet mean😉 ➥ oscarpiastri LANDO ➥ danielriccardo LANDO ➥ carlossainz55 LANDO ➥ maxverstappen LANDO ➥ fernandoalonso LANDO ➥ lewishamilton LANDO mclarenfan polite cat has rizz confirmed???

ynkohli

liked by danielriccardo, smrithimandhana and 506,472 others your honor, i love him. view comments

rohitsharma what 😀 ➥ishankishan 😀 ➥viratkohli 😀 ➥hardikpandya 😀 ➥jaspritbumrah 😀 ➥shubmangill 😀 ➥sachintendulkar 😀 ➥rahuldravid 😀 alexanderasaintmleux you both are so cutee ➥ ynkohli nuh uh u r lilymhe ur so adorable ➥ ynkohli stop ily averagef1lover um what are the wags doing here? ➥ user05 i think shes dating oscar piastri cricketlover whos oscar piastri? ynloml NO WAY SHES TAKEN WHAT

f1wagupdates

liked by alexanderasaintmleux, lilymhe and 209,879 others new wag??? oscar piastri spotted in a park with a girl view comments

averagef1lover thats so yn cricketlover yn and oscar?? user05 CRICKET AND F1 CROSSOVER??????? ynlover my two worlds colliding user06 if it was yn tho theyd be so cute f1fan THE WAY HES LYING IN HER LAP ➥ user49 THE WAY HIS HAND WENT LIMP WHEN THEY KISSED ➥ lestappenshipper SKSKSKKSKSK

BCCIWomens

liked by ynkohli, landonorris and 738,952 others THE INDIAN WOMENS TEAM ARE NOW ODI CHAMPIONS!!! view comments

cricketlover WOOHOOOO averagef1lover IDEC IF SHES A WAG OR NOT I LOVE YN ynloml shes so fine 🤭 lestappenshipper theres no way oscar 'polite cat' piastri has the yn kohli rohitsharma 🥳 shahrukhkhan 🥳 arshdeepkaur 🥳 sachintendulkar 🥳 renukasingh 🥳 anushkasharma 🥳 ritikasajdeh 🥳 sanjenaganasen 🥳 saratendulkar 🥳 landonorris IM SO PROUD OF YOU YN

ynkohli

liked by oscarpiastri, suhanakhan and 834,271 others colonized the colonizer ! oscarpiastri comments are disabled

oscarpiastri

liked by ynkohli, logansargeant and 506,783 others i love being colonized 😍 comments are disabled

a/n IM SO SORRY FOR BEING MIA FOR SO LONG GUYS I HAD THE WORST WRITERS BLOCK 😭 this is written for the sole purposes of entertaining me i havent seen and oscar piastri x brown reader anywhere so hopefully you guys like this !!

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stars444hearts · 6 months ago

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big reputation || 2

caitlin clark x actress! reader masterlist - prev - next warnings: none

caitlin_clark22

Liked by kate_martin03, yn_ln, and 820,508 others

caitlin_clark22 by the grace of whatever’s up there 🙏🙏🙏 Tagged: kate_martin03

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kate_martin03 caption’s tuff →caitlin_clark22 enough.

user1 WAIT IS IT A NOD TO Y/N’S TWEET →user2 its def not they don’t even know each other →user3 NO Y/N LIKED THE POST

—

Y/n smiled as she read through Caitlin’s comments. After the eye-opening conversation she had with Kate last night, Y/n had become more open to the idea.

She also thought the caption was cute.

Y/n groaned as her stomach grumbled. She placed her phone on her bed, stood up, cracked her spine, and walked into her kitchen.

Y/n decided to make something easy, then sit on her couch and binge-watch crappy reality tv. This was her first week off in months and she would spend it rotting in her living room like every normal 21-year-old.

Y/n couldn’t tell you the number of below-deck episodes she had binge-watched, but by the time she finished, the sun was down and the crickets were chirping. She begrudgingly stalked back to her bedroom, changing into her pajamas and throwing herself down on her bed.

She picked up her phone, only to drop it a second later in shock.

[yn_ln] Caitlin Clark 4h ago sent you a message

—

Caitlin, on the other hand, was freaking out. She had never even spoken to Y/n before, but Kate had convinced her to DM her.

Caitlin probably typed and retyped her DM 50 times before settling on a ‘hey !’

Caitlin groaned and shoved her phone down after finally hitting send. She couldn’t help but picking up her phone every ten seconds to see if Y/n had opened or responded to her DM.

After 10 minutes, Caitlin had eventually given up hope of a response and sighed, turning off her phone and putting her head in her hands.

Caitlin buisied herself by ordering doordash and sitting on her couch, rewatching film her coaches gave her to look over. She lost track of time and found herself mindlessly picking at her fingers, only coming to when she realized it was past midnight. ]

She groaned as she stood up from the couch, attempting to rub the sleep from her eyes. Caitlin walked into her bedroom as she sat on her bed. She picked up her phone and almost threw it when she saw her most recent notification.

[caitlin_clark22] Yn Ln 20m ago sent you a message

—

Caitlin hey !

Y/n hey yourself sorry for leaving you on delivered i was binge-watching below deck

Caitlin which one?

Y/n mediterranean, duh

Caitlin good. That's the best one Yn liked this message

Y/n so, i’m assuming kate told you to dm me?

Caitlin well, to be honest, i had kinda been wanting to ever since i met you on facetime with kate.

Y/n brother that was 6 months ago 💀

Caitlin LEAVE ME ALONE, OK i'm just a girl

Y/n SO REAL whenever people tell me im doing something wrong i get so annoyed like im just a girl that curb shouldn’t have been there 😠

Caitlin LMFAOO Anyways, yeah, kate finally bullied me into texting my celebrity crush who she just happens to be best friends with

Y/n 🤨🤨 is that all i am to you?? a pretty face?

Caitlin NO NO I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT I SWEAR

Y/n LMFAOO im just fucking with you anyways, going back to that… celebrity crush, you say? 🤨😏

Caitlin 😶 moving on…

Y/n no, no i wanna know

Caitlin umm… basically i’ve just been really obsessed with your show lately and kate told me i should shoot my shot but im now realizing maybe i should save that for the court

Y/n LMFAOO nah, kate was right she showed you my tweet, right?

Caitlin yeah, why?

Y/n because i wasn’t kidding.

#stars444hearts #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #iowa wbb #wnba draft #wnba #wlw #lesbian #wcbb #wcbb x reader #big reputation 444

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the-yellow-birdy · 5 months ago

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Is it better to speak, or to die?

A/N: Long time no see! This is an unedited first draft of the "Call me by your name" with Jane Murdstone idea(without the grooming ofc). Please let me know if you want me to continue and idk if im gonna change this draft as well, since I wrote it a bit fast. Feedback is definitely appreciated!:)

L.O.L. - Yellowbird

//18+ audience only! - all characters are above the age of 18\\

Summer, 1867

As you felt the lightness and warmth spread across the naked skin of your body, the repeating of your thoughts was tuned out by the sound of crickets in the all-round shrubbery. Sweat dripped from your neck and down your clavicle, going further with every breath you took in of the thick mid-summer air. The serene crystals reflecting from the icy lake had never been more inviting. Your hair was drenched from your own sweat and sticking to your forehead in need of a wash from the shining water. You looked at your pocket watch.

A quarter to five.

Summers spent at your uncles were where you found the most solace. He and his wife were wonderful, they so often invited you to come here and visit them and their charming vacation home. Days here were spend, swimming in the many lakes and ponds you would find on your outings, visiting nearby cities, reading various books from your uncles’ impressive library and cherry-picking in the midday with your uncles’ wife, Mary. Mary was a warm, outgoing woman. She found joy and interest in everything she saw, while speaking terribly loud and out of order about it. A significant contrast to your more timid uncle. A quiet and closed of man, who preferred the comfort of his study and the much-appreciated knowledge of ancient artifacts from the dusty books he kept.

When you saw through the personality differences, you found quickly, that they were made for each other. Especially when you on occasion caught a glimpse of them in the family room on your way to your chamber in the late evenings. There, in the privacy of their relation, they laugh, talk and exchange tender touches, soft laugh lines forming around your uncle’s mouth.

More you haven’t dared stayed to witness, it would be rude and improper to impose on such tender moments.

The grass tickled your bare feet as you stretched the whole of your body.

There was to be a visitor this year. Uncle Cyrus was a widely acknowledged archeologist professor, teaching at the Da Vinci institute back in Berlin. He was a passionate individual who spent his summers nose deep in the same subject and area as his livelihood.

Although this year, your uncle had decided to open his home once more for interested candidates, who would very much like to visit the north Italian countryside with many findings from the grand sea not far. It had been several years since a fellow interested had accompanied him over the summer. Your uncle was an elderly gentleman, about seventy, his wife around a decade younger having carried no children nor related to any nieces or nephews except you, therefore he had begun searching for a new candidate.

It was to be a woman, he told you. A professor in anthropology, beginning the early stages of research in the areas of archeology.

“It is a marvel! Have you ever heard such unique wonder, Mary!”, your uncle shouted out of character, several weeks ago from his office, as you were sat reading in front of the fireplace. Truly a neck-breaking sight, as he stumbled frantically out of his study, your presence going unnoticed by him, and up the spiral staircase.

A woman. You had thought.

Never had you heard of such a thing. A woman professor in anthropology.

You weren’t a daft girl yourself, of course you knew it was possible, never had you simply heard of it, often being told as a young girl to keep your head out of the clouds, the books you read had formed. Followed later, by restriction of said books.

You sat back on your heels and let the wind blow against the ample flesh of your chest, yawning at the thought of the walk back to the vineyard. Brown and green stains had soiled the white fabric of your dress. You had laid upon it as an alternative for the blanket you had forgotten. Your undergarments used for drying the water of your skin.

You begin dressing yourself by efficiently buttoning up your corset, followed by tying your undergarments and chemise. As you had put your dress and heeled boots on you stepped out of the Oaktree’s shadow and began your walk back home. You couldn’t remember at which hour the candidate would arrive, so you thought it best to pick up your pace.

---------

“Y/n! Wherever have you been, dear? You look as if the bear had gotten its paws on you.”, Mary looked bewildered as she descended the staircase.

The house was a French inspired Cascina residence. Beautifully build from the first laid brick to the last, with simple tree carved windows and a robust brick red roofing. The foyer of the home displayed simple white-yellow walls with paintings placed on them and the floor covered with a variety of Axminster carpeting.

It wasn’t grand, nor expensive, yet it was charming and the life it oozed never ceased to calm you, when you spend your summers here.

“Simply by the lake, Aunt Mary. I apologize for my appearance; I… tripped… on the way back.”, you lied, trying to seal it with a genuine smile.

She came quickly to where you stood. She held a gentle grip on your forearms, turning you in her grasp to further inspect.

Her eyes looked upon your face, “tripped you say?”

“…badly”, you added, choosing not to look her in the eyes opting for the dress.

Aunt Mary apparently chose to leave the matter at hand, knowing the visitor would be arriving at any moment now.

“Alright well, go wash yourself off and change to a dress that doesn’t make you look like a rogue child. Ms. Murdstone shall be arriving shortly.”, she gave you a light squeeze to your upper arms.

“Ms. Murdstone?”, you whispered.

“Yes yes, you know? The assisting candidate of your uncle.”

You nodded slowly, letting the name of the woman sink in. Ms. Murdstone. It was a rather odd name for an unmarried woman you pondered.

“Off you go!”

As you gave your aunt a curt smile and looked down, you went to ascend the staircase. Unbeknownst to you, a soaked washcloth was further from your reach than you had thought--

You froze in the middle of the staircase, quick steps of your uncle coming into view at the top, as three knocks had rung out in the room. Silence.

You turned to look down at your aunt, yet her eyes already laid upon her husband. Hurriedly your uncle went past you.

“Y/n, there is no time, give a quick greeting and leave to change thereafter.” Mary whispered tightening your uncle’s butterfly.

How utterly humiliating.

It is no secret that first impressions matter, yet your disorderly mind has kept you from making just that. This woman was going to be met by a soiled dirty looking young woman, will she not have a fright?

Please lord, forgive my poor deeds.

As your uncle took a deep breath to calm his nerves and looked towards your aunt and you, a quick furrow of his eyebrows as he laid his eyes upon your dress, he turned the doorhandle and stepped aside.

In your peripheral you observed the darkness of the woman’s shadow, yet you couldn’t keep your gaze fixed upon the carpets any longer.

“Ms. Murdstone, a pleasure to meet you!”, your uncle nervously laughed, his figure disappearing behind the woman.

It was the first glance you ever laid upon her.

As she sauntered through the blackwood door, the first thing you noticed was a significant height difference between her and yourself. She had the skin of a snowclad field in winter and hair black as raven feathers, styled to the sides of her head. She looked around the space as if assessing the quality of the housing, foregoing any introduction of herself. The woman wore an all-black attire, from her corsage to her skirts, to her low sitting cap. Her gloved hands were clad in front of her, trading the warm energy of the home with a sophisticated and poised aura.

The woman turned midway through the door, looking at your uncle, “pleasures all mine, Mr. Bamford”, said the woman with a faux saccharine undertone.

She smoothly shifted her focus in front of your aunt. “Mrs. Bamford, I presume?”, her honeyed smile went wide as she looked down upon your aunt, yet her eyes held something much unalike.

You looked to your aunt, her mouth fell slightly agape, “Uh.. Uhm.. yes, welcome”. She stuttered.

It was clear that the woman’s intensity had gotten the better of both Aunt Mary and your uncle.

“And this is…?”, you quickly turned your head to the woman who now, was meandering in your direction. Her eyes were trained on your face, and unamused expression had fallen upon hers. She looked back at your uncle as if expecting an answer.

“Uhm Y/n, sorry... Ms. L/n…, Ms Murdstone”, you looked down. Your vision was disrupted by black fabric coming to place right in front of you.

Ms. Murdstone gave an unimpressed glance to your aunt and uncle, “I see. Look at me girl.”

A hand came to lift your chin.

You watched as she tilted her head to observe the state of you. Definitely not impressed. Your eyes searched for your aunt and uncle, who simply ignored your silent pleas, and kept up their mannered smiles. They gave each other a short-whiled look and went back to woman and the scene unfolding.

As your eyes went back to the woman, your spine chilling at the sight of the woman’s light blue eyes and found she had been staring directly at your face.

Hopefully she is not bothered by it, it is not simply a dress to clean.

She quickly let go of you again. Her gaze leaving as fast as it came. Ms. Murdstone wandering further into the house, “My belongings have been left outside by the carriage, I believe a maid will fetch it, or am I to do so myself?”

“Oh yes, of course uhm, right away!”, exclaimed your uncle and went to call for the staff, while your aunt scurried after the observing woman, already entering another area of the house.

*click*

As you closed the heavy wooden door you watched your reflection in the window. Nervously you studied yourself.

I don’t believe I have any filth on my face.

Tagelist:

@readingtheentrails @ladybathoryy @aemilia19

#jane murdston #jane murstone x reader #gwendoline christie fan fiction #gwendolineuniverse #gwendoline christie #wlw #wlw fanfic #the personal history of david copperfield #larissa weems #lucifer morningstar #jan stevens #brienne of tarth #lesbian yearning #lesbian craving #the yellow birdy #female writers #ms murdstone #call me by your name

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the-record · 1 year ago

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COWBOYS LIKE YOU

SYNOPSIS: you should stop letting her through that door

PAIRING: cowboy!abby x reader

WARNINGS: a touch of homophobia

A/N: this isnt great, and makes me sad, but i like it!! trying to be a little less dialogue focused

my masterlist

“do you have to go?” your voice is soft as abby lets the question linger in the air. “i hate it when you leave. its lonely.”

her fingers slide carefully up and down your arm and she sighs. “im sorry angel.” abby wraps her arms around you and pulls tight, trying to get you as close as possible. “you know it ain’t safe for us out there though.”

you knew she was right, seen first hand just what people think about sappho and her friends. felt the rage and anger that came when two women who just loved each other.

these nights with her were nice. the sun still going down and the heat with it. crickets started their song and birds finishing theirs. you had pulled the sheets up halfway when it cooled, the sweat on yalls skin disappearing with the breeze.

abbys nails were kept short always, but theyd begin to grow out and were gently scratching at your skin. her hair had finally grown out again and you twisted it around your fingers.

when you’d found her that night, you had to bring her back. clean up her hair, her wounds, her clothes. you couldnt leave a sweet thing like her out in the cold to die. or the boy that was with her. you never did see him again, but it meant more time just you and her.

“i can stay one more day. but then i ought to get back on.” she pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. “you get some rest now, let me make us somethin’ warm and good for dinner.” you whine as she untangles herself from you, but only laughs before leaving the room.

you don’t remember when you nodded off, but you do remember waking up to something smelling good. she stumbled in with a tray full of plates and cups. she smiled when she saw you sit up.

“well good mornin’ sunshine.” you rolled your eyes as abby settled in beside you. “now, no more of that attitude, not when i made you somethin’ nice.”

you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “now i know good and well that you, abby anderson, are not talking.” she returned the eye roll, albeit not very well. “now what is on my menu tonight mrs anderson?”

abby always left without warning, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. but you always managed to make a move on from her, prepared with the fact that she may never be back for you.

you tended to the farm, your cows. made breakfast and dinner each and every day, sweet tea and lemonade for the hot afternoons. you did afternoon tea in the ladies parlor on saturdays and church on sundays. you kept on the way you always did, never missing a beat.

until a fateful cool evening when someone came knocking on your screen, scaring you half to death as you stirred beside the stove. you sighed as you made your way to the door, wiping your hands on the apron you had on.

you nearly tripped over your own feet seeing abby at your door. took everything in you not to rush and pull her in.

she was different than when you last saw her. new clothes, hair in a loose braid, cuts and blood all over. but you didn’t yet even open the door, she had much to say first.

“before i even start, know how sorry i am. know i didnt mean for it to be this long.” she winced as she leaned on her other leg. “i wanted to come, truly i did, but ive been running all over hell’s half acre. i had business.”

you huffed, pulling the door open and taking her with you to the kitchen. “im so sorry angel, please talk to me.” you sat her down on a stool before heading back to your dinner. “what do i need to do to make it all better?”

she quieted down when you didnt respond, watching you cook. she always loved watching you do household things. made her feel right at home again.

she smiled when you sat her bowl down infront of her, stopping and staring with a frown. she wanted to tell you how pretty you were but held off, you scared her quiet a bit. her hands moved to your hips but you slapped them away and grabbed the wet rag she hadnt noticed.

“eat your damn food.” she slowly spooned the meal into her mouth as you wiped at the old cuts on her face. she winced and pulled away but you pulled back. “stop movin’ when im tryna fix you up.” she nodded as softly as possible.

when you finished, you took the rag and half finished plate with you, pulling the fork from abbys mouth. “go wash up, you will not be dirty in my house.” she nodded, though you weren’t looking, and left to the bathroom.

the plate sat on the counter as you heard her harsh steps up your stairs. you held your head in your hands and took a shaky breath.

you didnt expect her to come back. figured it was final this time. and you certainly didnt expect her at your door like that. you had to pull it together though, couldnt let her see you like this.

you washed up and wiped the kitched till it was spotless before heading upstairs to abby. she was still sitting tending to her wounds when you found her. “you’re doing it wrong.” she dropped what she was doing and slouched. “let me.”

you were gentle with your touch, knowing it was always what she needed. she lived such a hard life that sometimes she needed a gentle touch, some loving. “what in the god damn world did you get yourself into this time?” abby sniffed and you looked up for the first time.

“i hate going out there. i dont wanna anymore.” you hushed her, pulled her close. “can i stay?”

“you can do whatever you want.” you kissed her face, running your fingers through her hair. “im here no matter what you decide.” she nodded and squeezed your hand. “now let me fix up these stitches. you have no idea what your doing. bless your heart.” she laughed softly and you copied. “seriously though, sit still for me.”

“im sorry i always leave.”

it was a quiet night. crickets too tired to so much as hum, and the cow sleeping to forget the chill of the dark. the house had a chill but you and abby huddled to ignore it. it was peaceful. you missed this peace.

you hummed in response, leaning on her chest to see her face. “so don’t.” but she said nothing. did nothing. “abby…”

she shook her head. “im sorry.”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fluff #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson tlou #abby the last of us #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby anderson angst #abby anderson

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just-some-random-blogger · 8 months ago

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im sorry babes but im begging you. Can we have a pedro pascal x reader fic where she's like a vlogger/lawyer and its like a fanmade video of them on yt of them being crackheads and being all lovey-dovey. like libra x aries vibes they balance each other out sm. you don't have to really but i genuinely feel like you're the only person who can pull this off.

Talk To My Lawyer

Every time Pedro gets asked something he can't answer, he always says the same thing.

Pedro Pascal x Lawyer!Reader | 600< | cw: gender neutral!reader, fluff, crack, rpf, typos, etc.

A/N: i didnt use and pronouns for yn besides you so anyone can read! ALSO this took forever, but im glad I finally did it. I hope you enjoy this nonnie! it's not exactly like the request but its pretty funny lmao

Tagging: @sloanexx @amis-love-bugs @top1bbgloak @sunfairyy @djarinsstuff @mooniesyubi @pedropascalgirly @mmmmandoz @multifandom-fangirl4

X - (Formerly Twitter) - verse

@hotnewsoutlet: Pedro Pascal announces marriage to Civil Rights Lawyer with heartfelt Instagram post. @gigigogold1: PEDRO IS MARRIED? @linmanuzel: PEDRO IS MARRIED? (2) @HOTdigitidawg: PEDRO IS MARRIED? (3) @103840582duh: ??????????????????????????????????? QUE @pedropascaldad: TO A MOTHER FUCKING LAWYER 💀💀💀✋✋✋ @pedropascaldad: OF COURSE THE LAWYER LOOKS LIKE A SUPERMODEL TOO HAHAHAHAHHAAHAHA *jumps off a plane*

@papipascalyuh: ok but if pedro was gonna get married ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ hell yeah itd be someone who looks like THAT holy fuck

@80pascal: ?????????????????????????????????????? UR TELLING ME THIS LAYWER IS NOT ONLY HOT BUT SMART AND FUNNY TOO????? [article link attached] @biwohla: 💀💀💀💀💀 NO CUZ THE LEVEL OF UNHINGED??? FROM A LAWYER???? INFUCKINGSANE @marvelwhorebb: "... I made sure to wear the Pedro Pascal T-shirt I made when we first announced our relationship. Gotta let the people know I'm one of them and simply got lucky." @atrediessucker: T-SHIRT *I MADE* SCREAMING WHATTTTTT

@djinssdjarrinn: OK IT HURTS BUT FUCK HES SO WHIPPED [video attached]

"How are you today?" asks the interviewer.

Pedro smiles and nods, "good, how are you?"

"I'm great, now that I got to see you," she says, making the man curl his head into his shoulder and grin.

Pedro waves a hand, "oh stapit"

She grins back, "I was excited when I saw you arrive with the internet's favorite lawyer."

His expression shifts, he brightens up. He places a hand on his chest, "me too! I'm so happy to have a date today. I always end up beggin' for some time, and now I got it-" fist pump "-y'know, not that I'm complainin'."

"Yeah, I was gonna sa-"

"I like begging." *Pedro smile.*

The interviewer doesn't quite catch it, "-y, the both of you are always booked and busy. How do you find time for each other?"

Pedro thinks, but is distracted when you walk up from behind him. He looks back when you place a hand on his shoulder. Immediately, he's forgotten all about the question and dotes on you. He brushes a hand on your cheek, asking you if you're okay. You whisper something but then catch the camera. You give a bashful smile, "oh, sorry to interrupt."

The interviewer immediately waves a hand, "oh, don't worry about it."

Pedro mutters something and kisses your hand. He holds it as he looks back to the interviewer. He opens his mouth then shakes his head, "sorry, what was the question?" Pedro laughs.

The woman chuckles then moves closer to you, "you know what, I'm sure people are dying to know, what's something you newlyweds like to do together?"

Pedro instantly turns to you.

You purse your lips in thought.

"I-"

"Watching movies," you say.

"I-" Pedro starts again, looking back to the interviewer, "I don't think we can say what we like to do."

*crickets*

Pedro looks at you, expression mischievous.

You stare back at him, eyes like daggers.

He holds back a laugh and leans into the mic, turning to the camera, "I can't say it. Talk to my lawyer."

The interviewer laughs and so do you, begrudingly.

"Talk to my lawyer," Pedro repeats proudly, breaking into a wide mouthed smile.

"Ok," you mutter, "pack it up, Pascal."

@alexielover: SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP BASHING MY HEAD AGAINST THE WALL WHAT THE FUCK @600MILK: MF SAID TALK TO MY LAWYER 🙄✋ SOBBING @oscarisaaacsz: watch him use that for everythingggggg 😭 @pedrogrill: LORD I HAVE SEEN WHAT YOU HAVE DONE FOR OTHERS @starwazfr: *sips clorox cutely* @emeryslala: and im supposed to sha la la baby after this? FOUL @pascpedro: respectfully, id pay to be their third @probelmaskt: PACK IT UP PASCAL???????????????????

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal crackfic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fic #pedro fic #pedro fanfic #pedro x reader #pedro fluff

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undercovercameron · 2 years ago

Text

only you

summary: a midnight meeting is never off the table for him.

notes: i cranked this one out like two two weeks ago but i didnt get around to editing it... apologies! this is a continuation of my same person, same mistakes fic, as it concerns rafe with a gf and the reader being highschool fwb with him. features a masturbation kink, dirty talk, and a whole lot of nostalgia! enjoy my darlings, and dont forget to watch the fuck out of obx 3 (i finished it an hour ago and its 2:00 am my time and im not sure). feel free to talk to me about it ;)

tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count: 2213

It’s nearly 3 am when he shows up at your house, mind all over the place, and parks in your driveway. He knows your parents won’t be mad seeing his truck— they can’t help but love him. He slams the driver’s door shut and jogs around to the backyard, breathless in the cooler night air. The grassy shore two hundred or so yards from your house ripples with the harsh wind of early summer storms, and he wipes a hand at his forehead. It’s still hot.

Rounding the corner, he sees the metal basin that curves around one of your basement bedroom windows, and drops down onto the gravel that lies at the bottom.

You barely register the sound, fast asleep in your bed when he glances in at the dark room.

He digs around for a second in the gravel and finds the familiar curve of the window key and quickly unlocks the latch. Throwing it back down, he uses his arms to push up on the handle and slide it far enough so that he can crawl in.

You turn onto your back in your bed, and he nearly smiles at how you look. So calm, yet so stressed with your eyebrows drawn. But Rafe just hops into your air conditioned room clumsily, shoes quiet on the carpet, and nearly tips over into your desk. He turns to the window and closes it quietly.

He takes a moment to listen for any movement in the house. He knows your parents go to bed before midnight, so they’re sound asleep—he’s mainly worried about your brother. He was such a cock block in highschool.

You move in the sheets again and his attention is drawn back to you. You’re so peaceful. Oh, well.

“Y/N,” he whispers, and reaches to shake your leg. You lick your lips and burrow deeper into your pillow. “Y/N!” He raises his voice, glancing at your locked door.

“Hm,” is all that comes from your mouth, and your eyelids twitch.

“Fuck,” he curses to himself. Fine. Grabbing one of your ankles, he drags you to the foot of the bed.

“Hey!” You croak, startled awake, and blink furiously around. “Oh.” You clear your throat and wipe your eyes. There’s a handsome man at the foot of your bed.

“Hey,” he says, looking down at you, and his hand finds your shoulder. You’re dressed in soft shorts and a skimpy tank top in an effort to remain cool in this summer heat—it makes his heart thump against the wall of his chest.

“Why’re you here?” You ask, voice still groggy, and your skin erupts in goosebumps where his fingers move.

“I told you I’d come today.”

“Yeah, during the daytime.” Your eyebrows draw together and you push up onto a hand. “Not in the middle of the night.”

“Do you want me to leave?” His eyes stare down at yours. You look over him, liking the way those jeans and flannel shirt look on him. The crickets chirp outside, and you hear a branch moved by wind brush the side of your house. His hand migrates and a thumb rubs at the skin of your stomach, nudging the hem of your tank top up.

“No,” you finally settle on, and he steps closer to the bed.

“Okay,” he murmurs, and dips. Your lips connect, soft against soft, and you shiver. He smells like the sun and that car freshener he keeps in the glove compartment. His hands find your hair, cradling your head, and your body prickles at the touch. It’s so late, and he’s so warm— you just melt into him. You grip at the sides of his shirt and fall back onto your bed, taking him with you.

He grunts, pulling away from your mouth for a second, and follows you up the bed as you move closer to the headboard. He looks huge like this.

Your legs come together.

He bites his lip and with a hand on your knee moves them back apart. You settle with your shoulders against your pillow, and he leans down, between your legs once more, and kisses you.

“Rafe,” you mutter into his mouth, and he hums wordlessly in response. Your body is so soft and nice when you arch up into him that he forgets about anything besides you. You grab at his hand at your waist and drag it up your body, and when his thumb brushes your hardening nipple the crotch of his pants tightens. Fuck.

He pushes his knees into your bed, keeping your legs spread for him, and straightens. His large hands fumble with the buttons of his shirt, and he shrugs it off. The material of the shirt underneath nearly rips with how quick he takes it off. His skin is shiny and strong in the moonlight, and it takes all of your mental strength to not lean up and kiss all over his chest. That would mean you’re desperate to feel and touch him— and you’re definitely not. Between your legs definitely doesn’t ache terribly when he unbuttons his jeans.

“Please.” You lean up to him, sliding a warm hand around his shoulders, and bring him back down with you. He makes a noise when he feels your fingernails scrape his skin, but your mouth is back on his, so what reason is there to complain? His nose brushes your cheek when he pulls away to tug the tank top strap off of your shoulder, and you shudder in the cold air.

His thumb nudges your nipple back and forth, making your blood rush in your ears as your chest heaves, and he bows to catch it in his mouth. Rafe sucks, pink lips perfect just for this, and you arch up into him. The scent of body soap washes over him, and he just breathes you in. So sweet. He curls an arm around your waist, forcing your skin up against him, and you make a noise of contentment.

He mouths at your breast until he has you panting up into the night air, eyes closed, and then moves to the other. Your eyes open briefly and you slide a hand across his head, feeling his warm scalp and soft hair under your fingers.

He hums into your skin, nipple caught between his teeth, and you nearly cry out. But you hold back, wanting to save it. He pulls at it again, wanting to hear that pained noise you know he loves, and your heart skips a beat. You suck in a breath.

“So responsive,” he murmurs into you, and his gaze briefly moves to your face—his dick hardens even more.

“I’m impatient, Rafe,” you huff, petting his hair, and squeeze your thighs around him. “Please.”

“Needy,” he says more to himself than you, but pulls away to get a hand at the waistband of your shorts and move out of the way so he can rid you of them and get to what he’s actually been thinking about all day. He throws them over the edge of your bed and crowds you against the headboard again, mouth insistent upon yours as his fingers find your slick. Your thigh jerks when his pointer finger draws a line up your folds, and he just hums into your mouth. His thumb pushes into your clit, demanding, and his middle finger slides easily in. You clench around him, head thrown back into the pillow, and your eyes squeeze shut.

“Fucking wet,” he grits out through his teeth, digging his face into your neck. Your skin ripples with goosebumps at his hot breath on your throat, and he slides another finger in.

You’re so warm, so tight, so wet around him— it makes his heart smash into the cage of his ribs. It’s just like high school. You, sweet and perfect for him, and him, brooding and in the palm of your hand. He tried to not let you know that too much, though. Can’t let people around him know that he cares.

“So perfect.” His teeth nip the soft skin on your neck, and you grab a hand at his forearm, guiding him faster. He accedes, knowing what you want, and slips another finger in. You tingle and curve up into him, unused to the stretch, and the breath is stolen right from your throat.

His thumb slides off of your clit when you push it away. Your fingers replace his thumb, and he just tries to breathe. You know every fucking avenue to getting him to cum in his pants, and he’s really trying to avoid that outcome.

Your noises become higher in your throat, whinier, and he feels you start to pulse around him. His fingers push even deeper, going the perfect speed, and then you’re shaking and trying to both get away from and get closer to his hand.

He grabs at your hip and keeps you in one place, hand continuing, and you grab at him frantically.

“Too much, Rafe,” you cry, neck cramping at the angle you’d stretched it to for the longest time, but he continues on. Your blood is pumping so fast, so hard in your body, and the rush of orgasm fades into numb pleasure that makes you pulse around him.

“Come on, baby, I know you can.”

Your mind calls memories to the surface— memories of him pushing you past your limit, making you scream, cry. You loved it, and he only continued when you were nodding and shaking for him. Any inkling that you weren’t into it he was off of you. He was no stranger to felonies, such as drug distribution or grand theft auto, but he didn’t dare do anything that was a question of consent. Off the table.

“Your fingers are so—so big.” You ramble on, talking of good things only like the size of him and how he feels and tastes and smells, and his hips twitch where they're pressed to you. Fuck.

“So close, Y/N,” he pants into your ear, hips rolling steadily into your thigh and pelvis, and you feel his dick jump against you. “You’re so close.”

Your torso shakes with the effort and tension in your muscles, and he bites into your pillow.

“I fucking—,” you start, but you fling your head back into the pillow before you can finish. He really wishes he knew what you were going to say. “Yes, yes, yes—fuck!” You chant, and your hips twitch where they meet his hammering hand as you cum onto his fingers. He continues on for a little bit, loving the feel of you, but pulls his fingers out. They immediately push into his mouth and you take the moment to pull yourself together.

Sweat sticks the sheets to your back, beading at your forehead too, and you’re sure your face is flushed red. The room is undeniably hot, filled with the hot breath and energy palpable in the air. You’re sure it smells like sex, too.

Rafe catches your jaw in his hand and tilts you up for a kiss, lips hot and smooth against yours. As he settles into you again, your hand finds the crotch of his pants. He breaks away immediately, cursing and looking down at your fingers.

“Touch it,” you breathe, eyes locked on his. His wide, clear, blue eyes. “For me.”

Rafe’s large fingers push yours away and dig into his underwear, and his eyes close when his palm circles the tip of him. You look up at him, hands coming to your chest, and you cup your breasts. His eyes follow your fingers as they pinch your nipples. You back arches, and his hand around his dick pumps faster.

“You’re so good for me,” you say, as breathless as you can manage without sounding like a corny phone-sex operator, and his head cants back at your voice.

“Shit,” he gasps, mouth hanging open when he looks down. “O-Only you.” It’s more to himself, but your chest swells.

“Yeah?” You ask, and sit up. Your hands find his waist and his torso, and you lean up so his mouth is inches from yours. “Not your girlfriend?”

“Fuck,” he exhales, cheeks pink, and his eyes close when you trace his chest with a finger. “No. Not her. Never.”

You just hum, pleased, and curl a hand around his own to slow his hand. His hips twitch, fucking himself between your two hands, and his mouth opens in a “fuck” before he’s cumming right into your bare chest.

“Christ, Y/N,” he says, panting, and covers the upper half of his face with his forearm. His knees ache.

You rise clumsily from the bed and stumble into your bathroom, returning with the hand towel. You wipe at your chest and throw it back into the bathroom, careless.

“Are you staying?” You ask, nearing him, and lean one knee on the bed. He curls an arm around your waist and tugs you closer in the darkness, lips pressed to your temple.

“I don’t think you could get me to leave your bed right now, sweetheart.” He smells like sweat and the remnants of cologne, and you breathe him in.

“I’m counting on it,” you whisper, and kiss him square on the mouth.

#obx #obx 3 #obx smut #obx x you #obx x reader #obx fanfic #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #rafe cameron fanficton #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron oneshot

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windybreeze12 · 6 months ago

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DBD Quotes that are my Roman Empire (and my reactions to them)

No version of this where I don't come get you - Charles S1 E7 (SIR???? IM SORRY??? If someone said that to me, i'd faint. Edwin is a strong one) .

Do you think it must be torture? Being the way we are? - Simon S1 E7 (I swear you could audibly hear my heart break when he said that) .

Teethface, what the fuck? - Esther S1 E6 (I love her. She's an awful person and is literally irredeemable but dammit she does her shit with style and sass and i love her) .

He did not feel the same way. But I think we are better friends because of it - Edwin S1 E8 (THEM. JUST THEM. I CANT WITH THEM.) .

You, Charles Rowland, are the best person I know - Edwin S1 E5 (It's like they want me to go throw myself off a cliff their friendship is everything to me) .

And we've got literally forever to figure out what the rest means - Charles S1 E7 (Charles is raising the bar too high i fear. the standards are through the roof) .

When you punish yourself, everywhere becomes hell - Edwin S1 E7 (*starts sobbing in the corner*) .

Imagine thinking there was only one way to do any one thing. How difficult would life be? - Kashi S1 E6 (I swear Kashi walked into this show to spit straight facts and then was never seen again. Icon.) .

We didn’t matter, he and I - Edwin S1 E1 (No because the way I swore to myself that I would protect these boys with my life the minute he said this) .

I will always hit a demon with a cricket bat for you - Charles S1 E6 (Fellas, never settle for anything less than Charles Rowland) .

I wasn't talking about you - Edwin S1 E5 (I'm not even kidding I paused the show, got up and had to take a minute because OOF Monty darling) .

As more than a friend, I’m afraid. Charles, I'm in love with you - Edwin S1 E7 (No joke this is one of the best scenes in a show I have ever watched. The acting, the dialogue, the pacing, the emotion??? UGH!!! Perfection) .

I certainly hope not, that story ends tragically - Edwin S1 E7 (There are already a million and one posts about the implications of Charles referencing Orpheus' story so go check those out but holy hell the way it made my heart twist) .

I could- we could lose Charles - Edwin S1 E3 (This was such a tiny detail but GOD I replayed it ten times before moving on) .

Honestly I just find her so charming - Edwin S1 E2 (I knew from this moment that Edwin and Niko were going to be a pair to watch. And boy was I right) .

That was my third life you bitch—i only get nine; would you fuck off - The Cat King S1 E8 (now THIS is how you creatively use a cat's nine lives in media I love it I freaking love it) .

You sacrificed me to a demon who traded me to another demon who traded me to a thing that is worse than a demon and this is your punishment! An eternity of papercuts! - Edwin S1 E7 (Honey I have an eternity of questions cause what the FUCK is this human trafficking system down in hell??? but also go off king??? 😭)

I'll update this whenever I remember anymore. Tell me more quotes in reblogs/replies i'll add them into this!

#dead boy detectives #edwin payne #charles rowland #but GOD i love them #they are my roman empire fr #save us dbd #but we must save dbd first #SO GO WATCH #TELL YOUR CHILDREN AND GRANDPARENTS AND FISH TO WATCH THIS SHOW #GOGOGO

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aphroditesmoon · 1 year ago

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Hi! I’m not sure if u do smut or not but I was wondering if u could do a Legolas smut with fem!human!reader, like a enemies to lovers kind of thing. Maybe hate sex? <3

too close

legolas greenleaf x reader

summary: legolas has his doubts about who you really are, but is that really why he can never meet your eyes with anything else but anger in himself.

warning: afab reader, nswf, smut 18+, etl, legolas being a jerk, probably bad description of mirkwood

a/n: soo sorry i took ages, I've been taking new meds, also i havent written smut for a while so im a bit dusty, hope u like it<3

○○○○○○

Summer is barely a real season under the protective courts of Mirkwood, you could barely feel the heat or see the sun through giantic starfall tree and at night, the chill through the strong winds gives a hint of winter in its air.

You loved it. Training at night feels easier when your not already sweating through your tits ten minutes in warm ups. And the quiet around you, save the crickets and owls hooting, gave you the solace you seeked for each existing day you lived through.

But despite finding everything well with want you asked for, the universe seems relentless with making sure you'll always be keeping your guard up and your annoyance up higher, with the ever consistent appearance of Prince Legolas Greenleaf.

He stands by the corner near an entrance to the castle, watchful of you while thinking he's quiet. His lack of trust in you makes him believe that you somehow lack in the specialties of elf abilities, like for example, your keen hearing.

"I could hear you for a mile away, prince." You also caught onto his snort, before his footsteps sounds louder. "How did you lnow it was me then?" He asks, less snobby than usual.

He must be drunk, you tell yourself.

"You have that pompous, all knowing kind of stride, it has its own beat when you walk." You expected him to roll his eyes like he usually do, belittling you like a child being reprimanded. But suprisingly he laughs. "That sounds a lot like you're projecting, after all, only pompous, all knowing arseholes are the ones who isolate themselves and train alone."

Ah, there it is. He's sobered up then.

"And what humble, kind enough of an elf, would waste his time stalking other people just to throw insults like a 7 year old?" You snapped.

If he had found your irritants amusing before, now his smile fades altogether, and he looks the same as when he's about to pull an arrow on an orc.

"The kind of an elf who's trying to protect his kingdom and father." You laughed honestly yet mockingly before dropping your sword altogether to look at him. "You think your doing the king a favor? His majesty has his own mind, he trusts me, so I'd suggest you drop your savior facade and trust him." He shook his head and looks away for a second, as if deep in thought. "My father doesn't trust anyone, let alone random rogue elves who comes out of nowhere."

You raised you brow at his bravery in speech. 'This random rogue elf is the reason your father is alive, if I had even a glimpse of malice in me, I wouldn't have done nothing but serve him well for the last 10 months." You say matter of factly.

And before he could argue again, you wave your hand at him annoyed, and turn your back at the prince. "I practise better when im alone, and now you've ruined my peace, if you don't have anything new or smart to say-"

"You are a witch." He speaks. You actually freezed for a moment, forehead frowned in confusion. "Excuse me?"He repeated his impossible words.

"Im a witch...because i saved your father's lives?" You ask him, slowly. He looks more frustrated then ever, as if you're the one patronizing him.

"No, you are a witch, because you have bewitched him." You could laugh if you didn't want to punch him. "And how have I bewitched him?" You almost yell. "I don't fucking know!" He yells first.

"My father has never trusted anyone, except for me, yet i see he'd put his life in your hands if he has to. And you know that, you know what you are doing. How you win his praise and trust when you fight, and when you put yourself over him, over the other shooters, martyring yourself."

Your mouth was wide open, your brows furowing, but no words escape you as he continues, inching closer with every word, untik you're both a step away from eachother.

"And you know exactly what you do to me." He was hovering over you, with a glare so intense you've never seen from the mirkwood prince. "I've done nothi-" He cuts you off when you've just gained enough control to speak. "You've bewitched me."

His breath was steady even in such anger, fanning your face gently as he inhales and exhales. "I don't trust you, and i shouldn't care too much of another fighter in our army, another stranger i shan't waste my time on. Yet one glimpse of you, and you're stuck in my head, like a memory i can't seem to forget."

he was silent after the last confession ends, and you have the stubborn urge to answer to him. "That sounds like a you problem, not mine." He gives a short bitter laugh, looking up to the sky for a second, as if praying to the stars for guidance. "What have you done to me, cruel enchantress."

The rage seemed to lessen in the glare he still holds at you, but something more hungry lays in his gaze. "I've done nothing. Im no witch." You answer, so over all of this cat and mouse game. "And if I was, I wouldn't waste my time on someone so frustrating like you, and your stupid perfect nose, going around acting like you're-" He cuts you off, closing the small space between the two of you with his lips.

It was persistent, the way his mouth pushed over yours, like a strong wave crashing over sands, forcing it to feel the same surge it's being held againts.

When your hands finally found its strength, you place them againts his chest, pushing him off, he startles and moves a step, eyes locking with yours.

His hands that were once on each sides of your face, falls down to his side, fingers flexing as if too empty now. "I hate you." He says. His eyes saying the opposite. Your mind repeats over and over of what he had done and you tell yourself that it can't get any worse or better than this, so you took a move yourself forward, standing on the ground he was on a second ago.

"Then why don't you show me how much."

You don't hesitate to pull his face towards yours, recreating the similar scene as before. His hands move to wrap around your waist, while yours tangle themselves in his untied long white hair.

You gasp when his tongue licks over your bottom lip, giving him what he wanted, your tongues clashes as you two continue kissing eachother like you're out of air. You don't flinch when he backs you up until your back meets the flat of a wall. His right hand starts to fliddle with the laces tying your leather top on. You help him take it off before your own fingers helps him take his breeches of while he moves his lips to your neck.

"I like you better with your hair down." You manage to gasp out while he's sucking on your neck. "And I like you better with your mouth shut." Legolas replies before his hands easily turns you around your face meets with the wall.

You barely hold on to the wall when his grip on your hips tighten, your own training tights pulled down before you felt him againts your back. You squirm and let yourself grind againts his hardness when one of his hands move to your front to squeeze your breasts, flicking your nipple, gently moving lower then from your chest to yoir stomach, grazing your scar filled abs until it gets lower to where you want him the most.

He's still squeezing your left hip while rubbing his hard cock againts your ass.

Finally as he sinks into you without notice, receiving a loud whimper from you, his hand over your hips move to grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back againts his chest. His right wandering fingers were still againts your front, rubbing circles on your thighs.

You're too speechless, feeling yourself filled up to the brim by him. He doesn't move at first, head laying low by your neck, hot breathing againts your cheek. You almost cry when he slowly pulls out, until he pushes himself in again, harder tham the first thrust.

He doesn't stop them, pushing into your hole repeatedly, his hands moving up from your thighs to your clit, rubbing over it with a pace that wanted to make you scream.

Legolas finally regains enough strength to start biting and sucking on your neck, marking you, while he doesn't stop pounding into your wet cunt.

The fullness of his cock and pressure of his fingers makes your cunt tighten againts him, he lets out a growl you've never heard if the elf prince before he bites down your sweet spot harshly, making you scream out his name. "Fucking hell." He groans out, fucking out all his pent up anger and tension over you.

.Your hands feels slippery againts the wall, gripping againts nothing while he takes you like a ragdoll, manhandling you take his cock over and over, watching you turn into a crying and moaning mess.

"Legolas, please- uh." You mewl out to him He hears you, pleased he is as he lets out a grin againts your neck. "Please what, my love?" He asks huskily. Love, thats a new one.

"Need to come-" You beg out to him. And Legolas, for all his false pretense of hostility before, could never say no to you.

He pushes your face againts the wall again, both of his palms now back to each side of your hip, tightening againts them as he plunges himself harder inside of you as you scream out his name, shameless of who could've heard them. Your nipples grazes againts the hard bumpy walls, oversensitive to everything now, you clench againts him so tightly that you could hear him curse out in elvish as he holds on to your bruised sides.

You feel tears brimming in your eyes as he continues fucking you while you explode all over him, your orgasm leaking out of your cunt, all over his leg. "Argh- im going to-" He doesn't finish his words as he finally cums after you, his hot cum leaking into your hole and then lower lines on your arse.

His head leans on your back, his breathing rapid and sweat glistens you both.

Legolas pulls you back by your breast, letting you rest on hus chest while the two of you try to regain some air. His fingers grazing the valley of your tits, head stuck on the side of your forehead. Once you've calmed down from your high, you tilt your head towards him, relishing his warm arms around you.

He leans forward, letting your forehead meets. You let out a small smile. "Now what?" Your voice gentler then expected. "Now-" He answers, voice hard. "-I'll take you to my chambers, and I'm fucking you again."

#legolas greenleaf fanfiction #legolas greenleaf #legolas greenleaf x reader #legolas x reader #legolas #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings fanfiction #lotr fanfic #lotr #the lord of the rings

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wrightingdungeon · 5 months ago

Text

BG3 Companion's reactions to Tav being much younger than they thought

Trying out a new format kinda, let me know if it works, please

Lae’zel is the baby at 20/23 ish but for this Tav is around age 16/17 making them the baby

Astarion: He didn't really care to know your age when you first met, but as you ventured forth he could tell you where inexperienced, an amazing leader, but you had no idea what you were doing. “How long have you been doing this, adventuring this darling?” He asked watching as you tried in vain to unlock a chest. “Oh well… Im only sixteen so not that long? When we met up really.” He stared into space for a moment, taking in his fearless leader, who was in fact a child. “Well thats… reassuring?” He said carefully moving you to the side so he could pick the lock for you.

Trust me you wouldn't live down the. “Does the baby need help?” Jokes

No one is getting within arm's length of you though

#his baby *cough* his meal ticket *cough, cough*

Gale: The poor guy has a lot on his mind *and in it*. Forgive him that he really didn't think about figuring out how old you are. “Gale how old were you when you found out you could use magic?” Gale looked up at you watching you playing around with Minor Illusion. “I was about seventeen when Mystra first contacted me.” He said thinking for a moment. “Ohhh that means I’ll be a better wizard than you!” He chuckled hearing You tease him. “You can't be that young.” He jested, his face deadpanning when you admitted you were almost seventeen.

Giving him PTSD from when he first met Mystra

He feeds you first

Feels so guilty about you going to get him magical artifacts

Halsin: Oh he knew, He is over three hundred but he ain't dumb. When you broke him out of Jail he was protective of you, seeing a kid leading and protecting a group of adults broke his heart. “Tav, please rest.” He said softly as he let you sit down. “I have the watch tonight, please get some sleep.” He’s a papa bear. You get hurt, he's there. Can't reach something? Halsins is helping lift you up. He lets you have your respect as a leader but he is always there to be a shoulder to lean on or your own personal Jiminy cricket.

Guard Dog privileges

Will let you sleep on him

Will not let you in the sheresses caress

Jaheira: Mama knew, when you first pulled up to Last Light she swore she saw one of her kids running up to her. “Cub have you eaten?” She’s already going mama mode seeing you haven't slept or eaten. She tears Halsin a new one for not helping you more with Art Cullagh. After the Last Light is attacked and you are standing by her side helping protect her people she feels proud of the next generation and those who are leading it.

She licks her thumb and cleans your face without thinking of it

Teaches you how to haggle

Feels so sorry for you and the trials you must face

Karlach: The baby girl had no idea, she just knows it's fun to rage with you. During a particularly deep rage section, she was surprised when you started to cry. “Soldier?” She asks having to stop herself from hugging and burning you. “I-I’m just scared Karlach.” She listened to you feeling her own tears forming. “I’m not even eighteen, but… Everyone depends on me.” Gods she wanted to hug you, she was raging for you, and because she couldn't hug you.

She works 10x harder to cool down her heart, not just for her, but so she can hold you

Lets you hug Clive as long as you need

Knows how you feel from being shoved into Zariel’s arms at age fifteen

Lae’zel: She doesn't care, You are old enough to hold a sword. In fact your young age and leadership skills just makes her impressed. “I will help train you to fight like a true warrior, not like the teeth-ling.” She does in fact start training you. Dear gods save you, shes got you running laps before the sun comes up.

Proud older sister

Has her own special *violent* way for praising you

Talks about when shes a general of Vlakith and you will be her right-hand

Shadowheart: She and Lae’zel were at each other's throats again when you blew up at them. “You two are fighting like teenagers! And I’m sixteen!” She felt like she got hit by a bag of bricks, you were sixteen, but you had pulled her from the nautiloid, and fought with her out of the hells. “You can't be sixteen.” She said chuckling softly in disbelief, hearing you confirm when you were born she definitely needed some wine to get over that.

Don't know how to act around you

Will give you little candies

Mom said I have to take you with me vibes

Wyll: He found out talking about his pact with you. “Yes, I was seventeen when I signed my pact, but I do not regret it.” He said taking a drink from his goblet. “Man I'm almost seventeen, I wonder what I’ll be like when I'm your age.” Have you ever seen someone shoot wine out their nose? Now you have.

Gets very protective when Mizora shows up

Big brother mode

Piggy back rides when you are tired

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kometqh · 6 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝

Viscount!Captain Rex x Maid!F!Reader Pt. 2, Pt.3, Pt.4 The Viscount is a renowned bachelor, known for his kindness, his wits and his charm. Ladies from across the planet swoon over him, visit him, are denied by him. He is a respectable, well-known man. What nobody seems to know is his knack for venturing out into the night, returning home with treasures, jewels, drinks, and most of all, ladies of the night. What does one do when they are caught red-handed, by none other than a lowly maid? Word Count:3,474 Warnings: Descriptions of sexual activity, minor swearing, also halfway unedited (will work on that). If I missed anything (pls im not good with tags) please let me know! ^^ A/N: This Rex fanfic idea took over my brain and I already have the whole story planned out and I'm in love <33

The evening burned so hot; the arid August air grazed through your lungs like gravel. The usually rackety crickets were unusually quiet, except for the occasional croak. The steady drip, drip, drip of water filled the still evening. And then, as your hands wrenched the dirty water from the rag, a hushed groan trickled from around the corner. It was quickly suppressed, but you had heard it. Slowly, you stood up from your crouched position, you abandoned the rug on the concrete. As far as you were aware, all the residents of the Viscounts’ manor were asleep. You took a step forward, craning your head in the direction of where the sound came from. Nothing. Just the occasional hum of crickets and your steady breathing.

With a few more steps forward, your heart leaped to your throat. It wasn’t nothing. Someone was there. Hidden behind the arched wall and doorway that separated the manor from the extensive, plush green, mile-long fields. Were they intruders? But the manor was so far out into the countryside. It would take hours to get there by carriage, never mind by foot. Who would bother going that far? But it was a possibility. An unlikely one, but still a possibility.

The grass was soft beneath your bare feet, cold and tickling as you inched closer and closer. Your thoughts were racing, and your heart was punching vigorously on your ribcage. What were you going to do, if they were in fact, intruders?

As you reached the wooden doorway you noticed it was slightly ajar. Enough to fit an arm through it, enough to not be seen by anyone unless they were standing directly in it, watching. The wood was harsh against your palm as you leaned against it, scraping warningly on your fingertips.

Your heart dropped. Your throat dried. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked up.

Breathy, desperate muffled moans, the ruffle of expensive silks and fine cotton, the rhythmic sound of skin against skin. It felt as though a bucket of cold water had been splashed in your face. This… You’d been hired as a House Maid. Previously you had worked in a number of different roles, so you had seen all the different kinds of dirty and awful in homes and manors alike. This wasn’t one of them. This was a situation you found yourself stunned at. Confused at. What were they doing?

The woman’s hair covered their faces, lending them some privacy in such an intimate, and yet such vulgar moment. Who were they? Servants? No. The clothing was too expensive, this place too hidden. All you knew was that this was deliberate. Whether you were meant to find them was a coincidence or not, you weren’t sure.

Unexpectedly, the woman leaned her head back. Her lips, coloured some finest shade of red, gaped openly at the sky above. You didn’t recognise her. But the male who had trapped her against the wall – you knew his face all too well.

He was your employer.

The Viscount.

A light gasp escaped you, realisation crashing into you like a carriage into a boulder. His head snapped in your direction.

Surprise gleamed in his eyes, but he continued his ministrations, his gaze locked onto you. As if he had casted a spell, you found yourself unable to move. Your feet were cemented to the ground, your lungs still as you held your breath. You were a mere statue, your gaze forever stuck on the pair before you. There was a glint of a warning in his irises, as if he was daring you to make a sound, daring you to interrupt him.

Your gaze wavered, straying to glance at the darkness behind.

The amber glow of a nearby lamp was the only source of light, the only thing that allowed you to comprehend what was truly happening. It flickered with each gentle breeze that passed, swaying alluringly on the burning wick. It burned warm, so warm you could almost feel the scalding, waxy trail of it across your skin. The fields behind were pushed away into the background, swallowed in complete and utter darkness, the forests looming in the far distance like a shadow. Whatever was lurking out there would have been a more welcome disturbance than what you were witnessing up close. You felt like a meagre, frightened insect tangled up and struggling in a sticky web you had no business soaring into.

The Viscounts’ voice snapped your attention back to him. No, it commanded you.

“Look at me.” He rasped out, and for a moment you faltered. You weren’t sure whether the command was directed at you, or the mystery woman. Were you beginning to get caught up in a fantasy you had no right to dream?

With another moan, she gripped the Viscount’s face, pulling it towards her. “Kiss me.” She uttered, looking up at him through a fan of thick, dark eyelashes. He was quick to oblige, leaning forward, pressing his lips against hers. His gaze slowly abandoned you, and so did the spell with it. Your feet no longer felt stuck, your hands no longer felt ice cold, and your breaths no longer felt suppressed.

Like a fawn, you scurried away, bunching your skirts in your hand. Your feet carried you as fast and as quiet as they could. Your sight landed on the wooden bucket you had abandoned, and with one hand, you reached for it. You couldn’t leave any traces behind. You couldn’t risk losing your job.

“What was I thinking?” You muttered to yourself as you entered the manor again, heading straight for the kitchens. How long had you spent staring and gaping at them? Surely long enough for the images to replay vividly in your mind, long enough for all the floors to dry up. The tiles sparkled like thousands of miniscule diamonds under the low glow of candles. Vases of ruby pink and white, carefully picked out roses littered the hallways, spaced exactly five metres apart until they stopped just before the kitchens.

One hand reached for the door, pushing on it with vigour.

In your hurry, you forgot one thing.

The doors creaked and protested loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls. You flinched, gripping the doors. You stopped them from moving, and warily glanced over your shoulder. Not a living soul in sight.

“Thank the lord.” You whispered, and silently slipped through the small space.

The door closed behind you with a soft thump, and you allowed yourself to take a deep breath. Through the nose, into the chest. You counted to three, holding your breath, before slowly exhaling. You repeated the motion as you emptied the bucket and hung the rags to dry. You continued it as you made your way to your small, closet-sized bedroom. Your steps were small, timid as you feared of walking past someone, anyone. Fear prickled at your skin; every sound of the manor caused goosebumps to flare up on your skin like a rash.

You couldn’t feel more relieved when the small, wooden door came into view. Gently, you twisted the doorknob, letting yourself in.

You let it stay open, just long enough to light a single candle.

The flame flickered as it grew, warmth extending from the wick to your fingertips. It engulfed the room in a fading orange glow as you closed and locked the door. The only sound in the room was your deep inhales and exhales, and the light creak of your bed as it dipped under your weight.

Your heart was pounding, blood thrumming deafeningly in your skull. Your stomach twisted in an unfamiliar knot, and a burning sensation settled at your core long ago. Your thoughts were quiet, replaying the sight like a melody on a gramophone.

You had stood there long enough to imprint the sight into your memory.

You could recount every second of the encounter, every drawn-out breath, every sound a scullery maid like you shouldn’t hear, as if you were a sinner in church.

“I’ll be lucky if I still have a job and a roof over my head in the morning.” You muttered to yourself as you stood up, readying for bed. You had a long day ahead tomorrow, to be sure.

But as you lay under the duvet, your mind couldn’t stop replaying the memory.

Those golden, dangerous eyes.

Morning rolled around faster than you had expected, your eyes snapping open when someone knocked loudly on your door. You scurried out of your bed, wrapping a stray blanket over your chest.

“Coming!” You shouted, searching for your shoes. You searched under your bed, and next to your small closet. They were nowhere to be found.

Two more knocks, and you moved towards the door. Screw it, you’d find your shoes later.

As the lock turned and the hinges swung, you were greeted with a surprising sight. The Housekeeper was at your door.

“Mrs Opal? What can I do for you?” You had asked, fighting hard to keep your surprise at bay.

The woman scorned you with a glare, her lips drawn into a thin line. She looked you up and down, her hands neatly folded behind her back. After a silent moment, she spoke up.

“The Viscount has requested your presence in his study… He says there is a matter he must discuss with you. Get dressed and make your way to the First Floor.” She said promptly, walking away before you had a chance to even think of a response. Confusion was clear on your features as you peered out, watching the Housekeeper disappear round the corner.

What did the Viscount himself want to do with you?

You shook your head, mumbling profanities under your breath. The door closed with a loud thud behind you as you began searching for your neatest piece of clothing. The best you could do was the violet petticoat given to every member of staff. Working as fast as you could, with practiced, experienced hands, you were dressed within minutes.

As your hand landed on the doorknob, your stomach churned. What could be so strangely important that the Viscount wished to speak to you?

Your footsteps were light and hurried as you made your way through the hallways, your voice soft as you greeted the other members of staff. The kitchens were already busy, with cooks and maids scrambling about to deliver breakfast to the family.

The footmen were at their stations, nodding lightly to you as you passed each one by. The rows of ruby pink and creamy white roses were a welcome sight, and a sense of calm washed over you. Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been so bad. Maybe, possibly, you were about to receive the opportunity of a lifetime.

Your thoughts didn’t stray even as you made your way up the stairwell, the soft thud of your footsteps the only sound coming from the lower floors.

And, as you reached the first floor, you were greeted with the sight of the Housekeeper and the Steward moving animatedly, deep in discussion. They seemed to be… Aggravated. No, perhaps quarrelling.

They stopped as you approached slowly, your hands entwined together at your front.

“There you are. You look presentable.” Was the highest appraisal Mrs Opal could lend out. You gave a curt nod, thanking her quietly. The steward remained silent; his bird brown eyes trained on you. “Now follow us. The Viscount shouldn’t be made to wait.” She continued, leading you down the hallways. More light flooded the upper floor, and you couldn’t help but admire the view of the windows from afar. The ground floor and basements lacked natural light or windows, and it was more common for you to be scrubbing something during daylight hours.

Mrs Opal and the Steward exchanged no more words in your presence, choosing to remain distant and silent. Their footsteps remained as light as a phantom’s, almost floating on the soft, teal carpet. They served their purpose; chilling you to the bone with anticipation and uneasiness.

The air felt cleaner up here, you noted. More windows had been opened, allowing fresh, countryside air to waft in. Along with it came the harmonious chirps of songbirds and insects alike. You rubbed the material of your skirt between your fingers, doing your best to wipe any sweat off as the doors to the Viscount’s study came into view. As the three of you came to a stop, Mrs Opal and the Steward exchanged glances, before turning to you. This time, the Steward spoke up

“When in the presence of the Viscount, you do not speak unless spoken to. You do not look at him, unless you are requested to do so. You do not sit unless you are permitted to. And last of all, we refer to the Viscount as ‘Lord’. Are we clear?” His voice was like a nail under a tool, sharp and unrelenting as he hammered the rules into your skull.

“Yessir.” You answered quietly, not looking up.

“Wonderful.” He responded, and inched closer to the door. He raised a gloved fist to the door, and knocked three, distinct and perfected knocks, as if the rhythm and consistency of a knock varied from situation to situation. The doors opened before him, the hinges silent, unlike the ones on the ground floor.

“Come in.” A soft voice instructed, and the three of you walked in in a single file. The Steward led at the front, Mrs Opal stationed in the middle, and you at the end. The doors were closed behind your figure, and you failed to hide your jitteriness as you jumped slightly. However, you did succeed in supressing the urge to look back. Your head remained tilted downwards, your sight focused on the diamond-patterned carpet beneath your feet. A short-lived relief surged through you as you remembered; you had lost your shoes. You were essentially barefoot on the Viscount’s expensive carpet. The morning had already had a rocky start, what was next?

“This is the House Maid you requested to see, my Lord. Is there anything else you need, my Lord?” The Stewards’ voice softened, his stern posture shrinking under the gaze of the Viscount.

He must have whispered or something, as you were caught by surprise when both the Steward and Mrs Opal stuttered in confusion, and you once again had to fight the urge to look up.

“Must I repeat myself?” The Viscount asked, his voice deep and gravelly. Someone must have had an early morning, you thought to yourself.

The Steward shook his head, gesturing for Mrs Opal to follow him.

The doors opened, the sound of a few pairs of footsteps retreating reached you, before they swung again.

Your heart thrummed in your chest, flapping wildly like the wings of a hummingbird. Were the two of you alone? If so… Why?

You swallowed the forming lump in your throat, rubbing the pads of your thumbs on the cotton material of your skirt. Why was he so quiet? Were you meant to look up? No. The Steward – you really should have asked for his name – was stern on telling you to avoid doing so.

So what was the Viscount waiting for?

“You may look up, little one.” His voice was coarse, finer than the most miniscule, smoothest grains of sand on Tattooine. Heat rushed to your face, and you questioned whether it was from the uneasiness you felt or embarrassment. As your eyes met his, recognition rushed through you.

Those golden eyes. Stern, solid and unrelenting. And yet… There was something else. Something you couldn’t quite decipher as your heart leaped into your throat.

“Recognise me?” He asked softly, his voice just barely above a whisper.

Should you lie? Should you be truthful? Which option would ensure you’d keep your job?

A soft laugh bubbled in his chest. Your gaze wavered, and you found solace in focusing on the cedarwood desk separating him from you. You decided on the latter.

“Y- Yes, my Lord. You’re the Viscount, my e- employer.” You stuttered out softly, wincing as you seemed to be doing everything but looking confident and calm. Surely, this was some cruel joke. You were sure you had dreamed up the events of last night after collapsing into your bed from exhaustion. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be real.

You allowed yourself to look up at him once more, and your chest tightened at his expression.

He seemed to be amused by all this.

“Let us not beat around the bush, and get straight to the point. I know what you saw, little one. But do you know what’ll happen to you now?” He questioned once more, challenging you to look away. He was relaxed and yet domineering, confident, his form leaning against the chair, his legs spread wide open. He was the one with all the power here, as much as you wished he wasn’t.

You took in a deep, shaky breath before replying.

“I’ll be removed from my position as House Maid immediately, my Lord.” Your voice was steady as you maintained eye contact, your breathing method calming you down.

He remained quiet, observing you like a hawk watching its next meal. His thumb caressed the plush softness of his bottom lip in slow, circular motions.

“If I may be dismissed, my Lord, I shall go and pack my belongings.” You tried again, before you paused. You broke Rule Number One. Do not speak unless spoken to. The Viscount betrayed none of his thoughts at your mishap, though he quirked a curious brow at you.

But what did it matter if you were about to lose your job anyway? And with that, you went against your better judgement once more.

“If I’m honest, though, you shouldn’t be so… Intimate with a strange woman at late hours of the night in your back garden, my Lord. At that point you are begging to be caught. So, technically speaking, it is not my fault,” You paused, pursing your lips, “If it were any other servant, the whole manor would know by now.”

Kriff. What were you thinking?

He gave a soft hum in response, his posture straightening up.

“You dare speak to your employer so… Callously?” He questioned, but you didn’t grace him with another smart-ass response. You had dug yourself a deep enough grave already, you might as well forget your headstone.

“To ease your confusion, I wasn’t aware that any servant would be working at such late hours of the night. I also own this manor, and do you know what the word ‘own’ means?” He questioned, quirking a brow at you, again. “It means it belongs to me, it means I can do as I please, with whomever I please, wherever I please. Does that aid you in your confusion?” He rounded his desk, his footsteps light and calculated right until his chest was inches from yours, his figure towering over you. Your breathing stopped completely, your eyes almost bulging out from their sockets as your heart raced faster than a horse. You had royally, majorly pissed him off, haven’t you?

Unexpectedly, a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The crease between his brow eased up, and for once, the Viscount looked relaxed.

“I admire your confidence, little one. No one has ever spoken to me so… Plainly. Rudely, even. But I’d reign it in a little, for future reference. I’m not going to dispose of you, no.” He whispered, searching your eyes with his own, as if there was a lost treasure buried deep within the vibrant colours of your irises.

“You’re… Not?” You asked again, swallowing harshly. Clearly he wasn’t too bothered by your obvious disregard for the rules he imposed on the servants.

He shook his head, still smiling down at you.

“No. I’m instead promoting you. You’ll work as my personal servant, after all, I can’t have you be free to gossip about my nightly endeavours to anyone. Wouldn’t you agree, little one?” He cocked his head to the side, eyeing you up and down.

Heat rushed over your face like a flame, burning and scalding until you were left as nothing but ashes. Why was he so relaxed? So calm? What was going on?

You blinked once, then twice, before remembering to breathe. His scent flooded your senses, until all that you could think of and feel was the Viscount himself. He smelled like a warm, wet spring day, of pine needles and steady streams of water. Was this man anything but perfect?

His fingers gently cupped your chin, tilting your head upwards until he had your entire attention focused on him.

“What do you think?” He inquired again, dissatisfied with your lack of response.

You fought your way out of his touch, shaking your head.

“W- What?”

Tags: @actuallybarb <33

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