#not like I don't have my own drawings on the wall but like

[woso-dreamzzz]

Flirts: Christmas

Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Reader

Summary: Christmas in the Flirts Universe

"Hey, you," Mapi says," You're home early. I thought you were going to go see Patri."

You just stick your thumb up at her from your position face down on the sofa.

"Come on," Mapi laughs," Up you get. I want a cuddle."

You roll over, lifting your legs briefly to invite Mapi into the space.

"Not even a proper cuddle?" She jokes," Is that what I'm worth to you? Your legs?"

You groan dramatically as she pulls you up, arms wrapping around your body until her head is pillowed on your chest and your fingers are gently carding through her hair.

You don't want to admit it out loud but you need this hug too.

"When's Ingrid home?"

"She's still at that photoshoot," Mapi complains," Sometimes, I wish she wasn't so pretty so she's at home more with us. I don't need photographers trying to steal our girlfriend."

"Funny," You say," I'm sure she thinks the same about the girls that try to chat you up at the bar."

Mapi winks. "And those first time pet owners who just fall at your feet during check ups."

You roll your eyes in mirth. "Well, after the attack you two did to my neck last week, I'm sure all competition has been scared off."

Mapi grins, eyes narrowed as she stares at your neck. The hickeys have all faded now but she can still imagine exactly where they went on your skin - one of her and Ingrid's greatest artworks.

"Are you sure?" Mapi's fingers brush your thigh. "I mean, how can we be sure? Competition can come back."

You give her a look, brows raised pointedly as she nibbles at your neck. "I can't go back into work with my neck uncovered. I'll have to cover it with a scarf."

"it's winter. You should be wearing a scarf anyway. This just gives you a good excuse!"

She pushes you flat on your back, straddling your hips as her mouth reattaches to the sensitive skin on your neck.

That's how Ingrid finds you, thought with less clothing, as she steps through the door.

"You two can't wait for me?" She teases as she hangs up her coat and takes off her boots. "Having all the fun without me?"

Mapi barely pulls away from you, still close enough to feel her breath on your lips, as she responds," You know you're always welcome to join."

"Hmm...I don't think that sofa will fit all three of us, not in the ways I want you two in anyway. Come. We'll take this to bed."

It's hours later when you finally, properly, separate from your lovers, head pillowed on Ingrid's bare chest as she draws absentminded swirls on your arm with her fingertips.

The light glow of the fake Christmas tree in the corner of the room is the only thing illuminating the walls. The light bounces along the curves and angles of Mapi and Ingrid's faces, bathing them in ethereal light so much that you just can't help but stare.

It's so calm and so beautiful that you find yourself relaxing, all tension melting from your bones before you check your phone and the illusion is shattered.

"What is it?" Ingrid asks, feeling your muscles tense against your own.

"It's nothing," You say quickly - too quickly for Ingrid's liking.

"You can tell us," She coaxes gently," What's wrong? We'll help you fix it."

"Unless you're going to be able to fix years worth of parental disappointment..." You say bitterly before sighing," No, it's nothing. I promise. Don't worry about it. Ignore me."

Mapi lifts her head up from where it was resting on Ingrid's shoulder. "You're not looking forward to going home for Christmas?"

"I...I don't know," You admit," Christmas isn't...I mean...I don't know. Patri wants me to come home with her but..." You press your face into Ingrid's skin. "I'm sick of arguing with her about it."

"You're arguing with Patri?" Ingrid asks," I don't think you've ever said that before."

"Every Christmas." You grind out the words. "I was smart enough for medical school, you know. I could have gotten in. I think that's what everyone expected of me."

"But you wanted to be a vet instead?" Mapi's hand captures one of your own, lacing your fingers together tightly and squeezing.

"I don't think my parents ever really got over it. I don't think Patri's parents really got over it either. A footballer and a doctor. It's every family's dream."

Ingrid frowns though you can't see it from the way you've buried your face in her chest.

"Your parents don't deserve you," She says simply," And Patri shouldn't make you go home with her if you don't want to."

"What else am I meant to do?"

"Come with us," Mapi says," I know you said no when we first asked but that's when you were planning on seeing your family. Come to Norway with us. We'll spend Christmas together."

"I don't want to intrude-"

"You won't be," Ingrid cuts in," You're a part of this relationship and if you're not going home then you shouldn't spend Christmas alone. We don't have to go to Norway. We can stay here. Together."

"I can't ask that of you."

"You're not asking. We're offering."

"And your parents won't mind one extra?"

"Ingrid's parents have been trying to meet you for months now," Mapi says," And you can finally meet Hector!"

Ingrid laughs. "My parents might make you give him a check up though. He's going deaf, we think."

"Really, I don't have to-"

"We want you there," Mapi insists," If you'll let us take you."

You smile, leaning over Ingrid to kiss Mapi gently before moving back to do the same with Ingrid.

"I'd love to come to Norway with you both."

[hellojusthereforabit-blog]

Past Lives Pt. 1.5 - Bucky Barnes.

Ft. Sam Wilson, Peter Parker, and Natasha Romanoff.

"I can't do this, doll, I'm sorry."

"You with me, Y/N?" Sam bended to be eye-level with me.

"What?" I asked, brows furrowing in what I'm sure is a developing wrinkle.

Sam sighed, shaking his head and moving back to the drawing board, where an intricate capture-seize-and-return-to-current-time-line plan was etched.

There's no excuse. I was slipping. I was being unreliable. I could not be trusted with this mission.

"Can I trust you with this mission, Y/N?" Sam's voice was grave, devoid of its usual playful warmth.

No. "Yes." I replied, hoping my face did not betray just how out of my depth I truly was.

What was I thinking agreeing to a mission like this? Maybe Bucky was right. Maybe I did this just to twist the knife. I knew something was truly wrong with me when the idea of Bucky being sick with anxiety over me seemed attractive.

He hurt you, I reminded myself. As if this made it any more justifiable.

"I have the kid." Bucky's booming voice echoed through the compound walls as he approached the conference room.

Speak of the devil.

"Hey!" quipped Peter Parker, alias: Spiderman, from behind Bucky. "You do not have me, Mr. Winter Solider Sir, I came here willingly."

"Pipsqueak" muttered Sam from beside me.

I barely concealed my own laugh in time for Bucky to hit Peter with the infamous "don't call me that." line.

Peter's eyes zeroed in on me and his smile got impossibly wider.

"Y/N!" He seemed to jump in place, "Oh my God! It's so good to see you!"

I welcomed Peter's embrace, relishing in the confusion of the two men behind me.

"Back at you, kiddo."

"You two know each other?" asked Bucky with what seemed to be true disgust.

"Sure we do," I said, patting Peter on the back, "As far as anyone's concerned, this is my avenger-little-brother." I winked at Peter as we pulled away.

Something sobered in the room at the mention of my family. We were all un-kindly reminded of what was at steak here.

"Alright then, Spider," said Sam, back in Captain America mode. "Tell us how it happened."

--

"Reports of more than a dozen killed, and fifty more injured in the area. No group has yet claimed responsibility, but we urge anyone with any knowledge of this to get in contact with the local auth-"

"They weren't all civilians, y'know ." A silky-smooth voice spoke from behind me, interrupting the news anchor.

Shoot first, ask questions later.

Red hair and amused green eyes stared back at me from behind the barrel of my gun.

"Jesus, Nat!" I holstered the gun back to my side. "Don't you ever knock?"

"Why, so you can ignore me again?" she replied knowingly.

Natasha Romanoff, The Black Widow, was raiding my shelves for- whatever it was she was looking for. Having found a half-eaten bucket of ice-cream, she plopped down on my couch and shut the TV off.

"You should really stop watching the news, too depressing." she reasoned, licking the spoon clean off ice-cream.

Resigned to the situation, I dropped to the floor.

The silence in the apartment was short-lived.

I poked Nat's leg and looked up at her.

"I'm sorry about - all the ignoring stuff." It was a lame apology, but Nat deserved one, at least.

She stayed silent, clearly waiting for me to go on.

"It's just-" I started, unable to find the words. She hummed in response.

God, I was so grateful to have a friend like Nat, though you would have never caught me saying that.

I hope she knew.

"Ever since everyone was blipped," I tried again, only half-aware of Nat's leg freezing in place beside me. "I keep seeing them. Him." I breathed out.

"Bucky?" she asked, her demeanor quieter, more real.

I nodded and tried to keep going.

"He never even knew - I never even told him." I shuddered at the thought of what I was about to say next. "He died thinking no one loved him, Nat."

I felt a steady hand grip my shoulder.

"He knew he had a friend in you, Y/N," she said, ever the voice of reason.

But I was beyond reason then, gasping for breath.

"No," my voice cracked. Weak, like the rest of me. "Not like this."

I paused, collected my thoughts.

Out with it.

"Everytime something happens, the first person I want to tell is Bucky. His voicemail is probably barely functional from how many messages I left. But he's gone. They're all gone. I don't see a point in waking up every morning, I don't run, I don't train, I don't eat, Nat-"

I felt a thud beside me on the floor and a pair of strong arms hold me tight. Capable fingers pressed against my back until I was a sobbing mess in the lap of the deadliest assassin in the world.

I only grasped the faintest string of some Russian lullaby through the sounds of my own misery.

--

"Agent!" Sam's commanding voice echoes through the room, ricocheting off the walls and piercing my eardrums. "Copy on the plan or do we need to go through this a third time?" He asks, no mirth in that lovely face of his.

"I copy."

-

Hey guys, I promise the part with 40s Bucky is coming soon. It just feels right to add a little bit of depth to the story. Please let me know your thoughts! Your support from the previous part was incredible. Thank you and see you soon!

[sprunkimortality]

Uhh Black, was it really a good idea to leave a kid home alone-

Black: "See, I...realized that a little later than I should."

[Black was hurrying back to Saves' home, carrying the old Sprunki in question in his arms. Saves remained still in his hold, smiling innocently as he rested his cheek on Black's chest.]

Saves: "Oh, Black, what are we hurrying for?"

Black: "Sprinkles. She's by herself."

Saves: "O-Oh, goodness me."

.

.

.

[When Black arrived back home, the first thing he saw was Sprinkles lying on her belly, humming a tune as she scribbled on a piece of paper. There were more pieces of paper lying about, each with her mark of art on them.]

Black: "Sprinkles, I am SO sorry."

Sprinkles: "For what?"

[Sprinkles looks up. Upon seeing Saves, she beams up, scrambling to what would be her feet, if she had any.]

Sprinkles: "Grandpapa Saves! You're back!"

Saves: "Back?...did I leave?"

Black: "Well, yes, you wandered off, actually."

[Black gently sets Saves on the floor, helping him stand. Sprinkles rushes to the lavender Sprunki, embracing him firmly, wrapping her arms around his sweater-covered body.]

Saves: "Oh, Sparkle! Love to see you too, my dear."

Sprinkles: "Grandpapa, I made us some pictures while you were away! I was gonna use them to cheer you up, but it looks like you already did!"

Black: "Yes, a friend helped."

Sprinkles: "Who?"

Black: "..."

Saves: "I believe it was...Samuel? Or was that his name..."

Sprinkles: "Who's Samuel?"

[Black clears his throat, a hesitant look on his face.]

Black: "S-Simon."

Sprinkles: "Oh- Oooh! Heehee!"

Saves: "Simon! Yes, I remember now. Anyhow...may I see your drawings?"

[Sprinkles nodded eagerly as she gathered the pieces of paper, showing them one by one.]

(credits to @soarinsworld for the drawings!)

Sprinkles: "See? This was when you took us to eat outside as a treat! And this was when we made flower crowns! And this is when you gave me my necklace, Grandpapa! Do you remember? Any of them?"

[Saves stared quietly at the drawings. While they were cute and heartwarming, he struggled to recall the events they were based on. He can't quite remember what happened, only that they did, and that they were events that felt good.

His smile faltered a little as he continued to dig through his mind, though all he was met with was the fog that never seemed to go away. Perhaps, he felt, he should stop trying. The air was too quiet.]

Saves: "I...can't say, my dear. But these are nice. Perhaps...we could hang these on the walls."

[Sprinkles seemed a little disappointed that Saves had forgotten, again, but nevertheless happy that he enjoyed her artwork.]

Sprinkles: "Thank you!"

[She turned towards Black.]

Sprinkles: "Grandpa Black?"

Black: "Hm?"

Sprinkles: "Is the grown-up problem solved now?"

Black: "..."

[Black turned towards Saves, who had started wandering off into the kitchen, perhaps to make some tea again.]

Black: "...I don't know, Sprinkles. I really don't."

[Sprinkles frowns.]

Black: "...but...you know, I do agree with him when he said that those doodles are nice."

[Sprinkles smiles a little again.]

Sprinkles: "Will Grandpapa be okay?"

Black: "Ah, the old geezer has his ways of standing strong."

Sprinkles: "You're an old geezer too, Grandpa Black!"

Black: "I don't count, kid. I have the face of a youthful supermodel."

Sprinkles: "Heeheehee!"

Black: "C'mon, let's get those drawings up on the walls. And not with tape this time, okay?"

Sprinkles: "O-kay~!"

[As the two trudged away, Saves was, momentarily, left to his own thoughts again. He grabbed a cup and a teabag from the shelves; it was like muscle memory at this point when he began to prepare the tea.

He stared into the cup as he filled it with hot water, the teabag sitting comfortably inside. The reflection in the water stared back.]

Saves: "...my name..."

[Saves breathed in, before letting out a heavy exhale.]

Saves: "...my name...is Saves. Whew..."

[A faint smile quirked his lips.]

Saves: "Almost forgot there, haha."

[The tea was delightful.]

[earthlybeam]

Is there any chance we might get to see the secret crush (with or without mistletoe) also with Elrond? If not, no worries, I don't want to stress you. I'm just really in my Elrond feels atm lol

Ahh, I completely get it—how could anyone not be smitten with Elrond? 🛐❤️‍🔥🥰 He’s the perfect blend of wisdom, elegance, and understated strength. chef’s kiss. 💋🤌And don’t even get me started on his voice! It’s like honey and starlight had a love child; he’s a dream boat, I class him as my fictional hubby 😉🫶✨

how would the elves react to this?

↓

↓

↓

Elrond Version below. (You and Elrond well secret have a crush but either of you acted till now.)

📜 𝓔𝓵𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓭

✶ The great hall hummed with life, the warmth of firelight and the soft buzz of conversation filling the space. Outside, the cold winter night pressed against the stone walls, but inside, the atmosphere was inviting and alive, the scent of spiced wine and roasting meats mingling with the laughter of guests. You and Elrond had settled into a quieter corner, where the voices around you seemed distant, a mere background to your animated conversation. Your hands moved in an endless stream of gestures, your words flowing freely as you wove stories, jokes, and observations into the air between you. Elrond, ever the listener, had always appreciated the way your voice danced with excitement. But tonight, something was different. His mind, so usually sharp and present, was slipping away from the conversation, drawn instead to the subtle, almost unnoticed mistletoe hanging above the archway nearby. It swayed gently in the flickering light, a quiet, beckoning reminder of tradition. Elrond’s gaze flickered to it again, and his heart stuttered. Mistletoe.

✶ He nodded every so often, murmuring a soft “mm-hmm” or “indeed” to feign attentiveness, but in truth, his focus had long since wandered. His attention drifted to the soft glow of the mistletoe. Elrond’s thoughts raced. Should he say something? Could he? He had spent countless moments by your side, always holding himself back. You were his friend, his confidant, and yet there was something more—something he had never dared to voice aloud. Tonight, though, with the mistletoe above and the warmth of the hall around you, he wondered: What if I kissed you? The idea seized him, unbidden but persistent. Would you pull away? Would it ruin what you already shared? He wasn’t one to act impulsively, but tonight… tonight, the temptation was almost too much. His gaze drifted from the mistletoe back to you. You hadn’t noticed his internal struggle, too absorbed in your own thoughts and stories. Your words tumbled on, each sentence more animated than the last, your eyes alight with enthusiasm as you spoke. Elrond tried to focus on what you were saying, but his attention kept slipping back to you. The way your voice filled the space, the way your laughter wrapped around him, drawing him in deeper. Every gesture you made, every word that slipped from your lips, seemed to only heighten the ache in his chest.

✶ You were so close, your presence warm and inviting, and Elrond found himself wondering how you would respond if he leaned in, if he finally crossed that line between friendship and something more. His breath hitched as his hand subtly shifted closer to yours, the idea of touching you setting his heart racing. He tried to tell himself that this was foolish, that he was overthinking it, but no matter how much he told himself to focus, his thoughts kept circling back to the same question: Should I kiss you? “Elrond?” Your voice, sharp and clear, pierced through his thoughts. He blinked, suddenly realizing he hadn’t heard a word you had just said. His mind scrambled to catch up, but there was no denying it now—he’d missed everything.

✶ “Are you even listening?” you teased, tilting your head slightly with a playful smirk. The flush creeping onto his cheeks didn’t escape your notice, and his distracted gaze and stiff posture gave him away. Elrond was flustered, and it was obvious. Straightening up, Elrond tried to recover, his eyes flickering between yours in a desperate search for something to latch onto. “Of course,” he replied smoothly, though the heat in his cheeks betrayed him. He had to make it seem like he was still in control, but his words felt hollow as they left his lips. You had caught him, and there was no hiding it now. You leaned in just a little closer, the mischievous glint in your eyes only sharpening. “Really?” you asked, the teasing tone in your voice thick with playful challenge. “What did I say?”

✶ For a heartbeat, Elrond froze. His mind scrambled to find an answer, but the conversation was a blur, the details slipping through his fingers like sand. He looked around for anything to cling to—something that might sound convincing—when his gaze fell on the festive surroundings: the garlands, the ribbons, the warmth of the gathering. The decorations, he thought. That’ll work. “Elrond?” You prompted again, your eyes twinkling with amusement as he struggled. You were enjoying this, and you were sure he could feel the weight of your gaze sharp on him “Umm…” Elrond cleared his throat, his mind still racing for something to make sense of it all. “The… um… decorations?” he stammered, cringing internally. The decorations? Really? “Yes, the decorations! They’re… very festive. The garlands, and ribbons, and… the atmosphere? Very… festive, yes.”

✶ His words were so disjointed, it felt as though the entire world had tilted off-balance. He could feel the flush creeping deeper, his heart sinking with each passing moment. I can’t believe I’m doing this, he thought. The more he tried to explain, the more his words felt like they were slipping out of his control. You let out a soft laugh, the sound warm and teasing, but there was something more to it, something knowing in your eyes. You raised an eyebrow at him, clearly amused at how easy it was to catch him off guard. “Decorations?” you repeated, as though trying to wrap your mind around the absurdity of it. “Really, Elrond? You’re telling me you’ve been listening to all that, and that’s what stood out to you? Garlands and ribbons?”

✶ His heart was racing for reasons he didn’t fully understand—embarrassment, confusion, and something else, something deeper. The playful teasing in your voice didn’t help him at all. He could feel your gaze on him, sharp and probing, and it made him feel as though you could see straight through him. His tongue felt tied. What could I even say? The kiss, the longing, the tension that had built up between you, all of it seemed so close now. He had almost said it, had almost made that leap—but now, all he could manage was a stuttered excuse. You watched him, enjoying the way his composure faltered. There was something about catching him off guard that sparked a flutter of excitement in your chest. His attempt to pass off the decorations as the thing that had caught his attention was almost too perfect. It was clear—he hadn’t been listening to you at all, and yet here he was, fumbling over the simplest of answers. His words stumbled, disjointed and unsure, and it made you want to press just a little harder.

✶ “So, all that talk about ribbons and garlands, and you’re still thinking about them?” You leaned in closer, your voice dripping with a teasing warmth. “You’re really going to try to pass that off as a proper answer?” It felt like power, but there was something else beneath it too, something softer. You could see the frustration in his eyes, the way he avoided meeting your gaze now, and it made your heart skip a beat. There was more to Elrond than he let on, and you were beginning to realize just how much he might be hiding. From you—and from himself. Elrond, meanwhile, felt the weight of your teasing press down on him. You could see it, couldn’t you? He couldn’t hide his thoughts from you—not this time. And maybe he didn’t want to. He opened his mouth to speak again, but the words eluded him. Should he say something about how he felt? Should he finally let go of the fear that had been gnawing at him all night? The kiss. What if I just kissed you now? But his mind was a whirlwind, and before he could act on the urge, his thoughts were drowned out by the lingering question that had been haunting him all evening: Should I kiss you? The words were hanging in the air between you both, and with every second that passed, it was becoming harder to ignore them.

✶ Without another thought, Elrond leaned forward, closing the gap between you with a decisive yet gentle movement. You continued speaking, unaware of his intentions, lost in the flow of your words. His hand brushed lightly against yours, grounding him in the present. He could feel the warmth of your skin, the subtle connection as his fingers made the faintest contact with yours, sending a ripple of electricity through his chest. The touch made him realize how much he had been longing for something more, something deeper, and he couldn’t wait any longer. His breath caught as he watched you, still oblivious to his inner turmoil, your voice filling the space between you. He knew he couldn’t hold back anymore.

✶ You began to speak again, unaware of the storm of emotions swirling within him, but before you could form another sentence, Elrond silenced you with a kiss—a kiss that was sudden, but soft and sure. It was a break in the endless flow of conversation, a pause that felt like time itself had slowed down just for the two of you. His lips met yours with a delicate pressure, as though testing the waters. For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the feel of your lips, warm and welcoming, against his. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw, grounding him in the moment. The softness of your skin under his touch made his heart race, and he deepened the kiss slowly, carefully—unsure of what you might do, yet unable to stop himself.

✶ When you didn’t pull away, when you softened into the kiss, something inside Elrond snapped. It was as though every unspoken thought, every hesitant longing he had carried for so long, was suddenly allowed to rush forward. His heart surged as the kiss deepened, more confident now, slow and deliberate, with the weight of everything he hadn’t yet said. It was as though his lips were speaking the words he couldn’t quite form. The kiss felt like an answer to the unspoken question that had hovered between you both for what felt like an eternity. The tension, the longing, everything that had been building between you evaporated in that moment. You melted into the kiss, your hand instinctively reaching up to touch his arm, feeling the warmth of him beneath your fingertips. Every kiss, every movement, felt like an exploration, as though neither of you knew where it would lead, but you both wanted to find out. It was a kiss that said more than words ever could, a kiss that was at once tentative and full of yearning, quiet yet full of promise. Elrond felt your breath against his lips, your warmth filling him with a sense of peace he hadn’t known he needed. When the kiss finally broke, he pulled back just enough to catch his breath, but his forehead remained pressed gently against yours, as if he couldn’t bear to be too far from you.

✶ You stared at him, wide-eyed, caught between surprise and something softer, something unspoken yet undeniably clear. Elrond’s heart raced as he searched your face for any hint of what you were feeling. His pulse thundered in his ears as he waited for your reaction. The silence stretched between you, thick with emotion, and for a moment, neither of you seemed to know what to say. Finally, you whispered his name, the sound soft and breathless. “Elrond…” His heart stuttered at the way his name passed your lips, and he looked at you with a gentle, almost apologetic smile. A light flush colored his cheeks, and he cleared his throat, his voice dropping to a low, warm murmur. “Forgive me,” he said, the teasing glint in his eyes softening, “but you weren’t giving me much of a chance to speak.” You blinked in disbelief, a faint laugh escaping your lips. Your mouth opened slightly as if trying to process his words, before another soft laugh bubbled up, catching you by surprise. “Wait—so you kissed me to stop me from talking?” you asked, amusement flickering in your gaze. Elrond chuckled, the corners of his mouth lifting into a playful smile. “Perhaps,” he said, his tone light but sincere, “but in truth, it was long overdue.”

✶ Your heart fluttered at the warmth in his voice, the sincerity behind the playful words. For the first time, you became aware of the mistletoe hanging above you both, the realization slowly dawning on you. A grin tugged at the corners of your lips as you looked up at it, then back at him. “Oh,” you murmured, your eyes sparkling with amusement. “So that’s what you’ve been thinking about all this time?” Elrond glanced up at the mistletoe, his eyes following the soft, green sprigs that hung above you both, before returning to you. His voice was steady, though there was a hint of vulnerability in it that contrasted with the lightness of his words. “I might have been,” he admitted, his gaze locking with yours. “Though, truthfully, I haven’t been able to think about much else when I’m with you.”

✶ Your heart skipped a beat at the quiet sincerity of his words. For a moment, you were speechless—an unusual occurrence for you, to be sure. But there was something about the honesty in his eyes, the depth of his feelings, that left you breathless. When you finally found your voice again, it came out softer, tinged with playful teasing. You leaned in slightly, just enough to close the distance between you. “Well,” you murmured, your lips curling into a teasing smile, “if that’s the case, you might as well kiss me again. Just to make sure I’ve properly stopped talking, of course.” Elrond’s eyes sparkled with both amusement and warmth, and his smile widened as he leaned closer. His hand found yours once more, fingers threading with yours as he moved in. “Gladly,” he whispered, his voice warm, the words filled with both humor and something deeper, something more sincere. Without hesitation, his lips found yours again.

✶ This time, the kiss was different—more assured, more confident. The hesitation had melted away, replaced by a certainty that had been brewing for far too long. The kiss was slow and deliberate, deeper than before, carrying with it the weight of everything unspoken between you. It was a promise, a vow, one that echoed in the way his lips pressed firmly against yours, as though he never wanted to pull away. Your arms wrapped around him instinctively, pulling him closer as the kiss continued, lingering and full of meaning. The world outside seemed to disappear once more, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the softness of his kiss, a shared moment of connection and understanding.

✶ When the kiss finally broke, Elrond pulled back just enough to look at you, his breath soft against your lips. He smiled, a gentle and sincere expression that made your heart swell. “I think I could get used to this,” he said, his voice soft and full of warmth. You smiled back, your heart full of something unspoken, something deep. Your voice was teasing, but there was a warmth to it that matched his. “I think I could, too,” you replied. The bond between you had deepened in that kiss, forged in the lingering sweetness of the moment and sealed beneath the mistletoe. There was a promise in the air, a silent vow of more to come. And in that quiet, shared space, you both knew it was only the beginning.

Bonus - funny but romantic

✶ Elrond’s smile lingered on his lips as he gazed at you, the shared moment between you both settling in the air. The soft warmth of his touch still lingered on your skin, and the unspoken bond felt stronger than ever. He continued to hold your hand, his gaze full of tenderness, but there was an undeniable spark in his eyes—a glimmer of mischief, of something deeper. His fingers gently traced the back of your hand, as though he couldn’t quite bear to stop touching you. You were lost in the quiet intimacy of the moment, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you met his gaze. The space between you felt electric, charged with the weight of everything unsaid, everything you both shared.

✶ You leaned in slightly, eyes twinkling with playful challenge, your voice soft yet filled with a teasing edge. “Well,” you murmured, lips curving into a smile, “another one?” Elrond’s breath caught, and before he could respond, you were already moving in, closing the distance between you once more. He didn’t resist this time. His lips met yours eagerly, but as the kiss deepened, you leaned in more, pushing gently against his chest, encouraging him to lean back. Elrond, caught off guard by your sudden shift in momentum, lost his balance and was pulled back in his chair, the both of you tumbling to the floor in a soft heap. For a moment, neither of you moved, your bodies tangled, laughter spilling from your lips as you found yourselves on the floor. His arms instinctively wrapped around you, pulling you close as the kiss continued. The world outside, the uncertainty, the quiet hum of reality—all of it faded as the warmth between you both deepened, just like before. Only this time, there was no hesitation, no holding back.

✶ Elrond looked up at you, still catching his breath, a gentle chuckle escaping his lips as he gazed at you with affection. "Well, that wasn't exactly what I had planned," he murmured, his voice warm and playful, as his hand brushed a lock of hair from your face. You smiled down at him, your heart racing, but the lightness of the moment carried you both forward. "Maybe you should stop planning then," you teased, your eyes sparkling with amusement and affection. "I think I like this spontaneous side of you." He chuckled softly, pulling you closer, his lips finding yours again, this time with a renewed sense of certainty. As you melted into the kiss once more, neither of you could deny that this moment, however unexpected, was exactly where you both were meant to be.

[hunter-sylvester]

Hunter's Drawings

I wish I had a better screenshot of the ones hanging on the wall in the last picture but they really don't get shown very well.

[ingoodjesst]

have you put the pieces together yet, detective

[bumblingbabooshka]

My name is [BRUTUS] and my name means [HEAVY] so with a [HEAVY] heart I'll guide this dagger Into the heart of my enemy

Something about having absolutely no choice in who you marry. About being literally forced by the law to spill blood - to accept this stranger as your husband over a man you truly care for or accept the fact that the man you love might die because you put him in danger. Something about risking becoming the wife of a man you've never even seen before a few minutes prior because you know anything would be better than putting your beloved in harm's way. Something about the trust inherent in that decision and in the way she speaks of it after. Truthfully, T'Pring doesn't know the captain and she doesn't know Spock. Either one of them could have taken her as their wife but she does know Stonn. She knows that Stonn will remain by her side no matter what. They made a plan together. They have an agreement which T'Pring believes will be upheld even though the plan changed with the arrival of Kirk. Stonn will always be there, always, and Stonn will be hers. Something about the language used around T'Pring: Ownership, subservience, non-personhood. T'Pring is an object that Spock can win. She cannot reject him, she has no say in the matter other than having Stonn 'claim' her instead. Even when Spock leaves after being very clearly rejected by T'Pring he says "Stonn, she is yours." as if despite her clear rejection he still owns her and is must formally 'give' her to Stonn. But the language T'Pring uses around Stonn is a break from that: "There was Stonn who wanted very much to be my consort, and I wanted him." Stonn who wanted very much to be HER consort and she WANTED him. The language here is very particular - It's not, for example: "Stonn wanted me to be his wife" - he is HERS. And she WANTS him. There's a mutual affection there and a strong trust - a trust which seems to be well founded since Stonn (though silent) stands by her side at the end of the episode. <- That might seem small but if Spock would reject her for 'daring to challenge' (again, the language is not 'because I don't want you' but more of an implied disgust at her having the AUDACITY to reject him) then it's not a stretch to assume that it'd be considered an insult in the TOS Vulcan society to NOT choose Stonn as her champion after a prior agreement. Anyway T'Pring was a woman in an impossible situation within a society which saw her as more of an object than a person and she wanted Stonn and Stonn wanted to be hers and she trusted that he would understand if she had to publicly pick someone else to ensure his life would be spared and he did understand.

[enhanced-operatives-division]

Improvement :3

[kinaesthetiqueer]

(follow-up to this)

having grown up in atlas, weiss is very familiar with the academy's team anti-frat policy and gets very hung up on just how much trouble they could get in if anyone thinks they're dating.

(which they're definitely not doing. no, sir. absolutely not, sir.)

so better safe than sorry.

(except winter has eyes. and also doesn't care.)

[iwakuraz]

started this a while ago and decided 2 post it today :3

[ratstuckinamarble]

the rat is SICK? :( poor poor rat.....

stay snuggly and stay warm <3

Oh my goodness how are you this adorable T-T I don't even know what to say...

I want to glue this to my heart. May not help me get well sooner but it sure is making me so happy ๑ï

Thank you, truly.

I'll try my best to stay snuggly and warm, though I could never reach the comfort of your drawing. In the meantime, you stay cozy and safe too <3

[burningcomputerpersona]

i just got some sidewalk chalk today. guess who's about to start vandalizing roads with "there is still time"

[c0rpsedemon]

when i saw 'cabin in the woods in middle of nowhere new hampshire' bad i mean it. i have a 65 year old father from northeastern mass that's the only type of vacation i ever go on (if you're wondering what it's like it's like a modern day yellow wallpaper btw) . i know my cabins in middle of nowhere new hampshire. i've been to multiple with better wifi than i currently have. that says a lot btw.

[s0dium]

𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍

Haikyuu men x Reader

A/n: This is part of my Olympic event, please click on the for more! If you would like to suggest something for this event don't hesitate!

Synopsis: What do Haikyuu men do after the Olympics? Well, they do you

Warnings: Spanking, fingering, praise, groping, squirting

The camera zooms in on the bustling Olympic stadium in Paris, its energy palpable even through the television screen. The crowd's roaring cheers reverberate, celebrating the electrifying victory of the Japanese volleyball team. Among the sea of jubilant teammates, the camera focuses on one player, your boyfriend, glistening with sweat and wearing an infectious smile: fresh from clinching the gold medal.

As he steps away from the celebratory huddle, a reporter, microphone in hand, intercepts him. The reporter's voice is enthusiastic, mirroring the atmosphere, "So, what are your plans to celebrate the big win?"

He chuckles, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, his grin widening, "Well, after drinks with the guys," he pauses, "I have a little post-game ritual."

Intrigued, the reporter leans in, the crowd's cheers serving as a dramatic backdrop, "Oh yeah? What's that?"

He winks at the camera, "Secret."

Yes a secret it was, one that only you and him knew. One that started off with you being bent over his knee with his fingers deep in your creamy cunt.

"Been thinking about this all day," he murmurs, right hand caressing the fat of your ass while his left curls and massages the sweet part of your gummy walls that makes your eyes roll back. At this point you have given up resisting, letting your body hang limp over his muscular thighs.

As his fingers probe and massage your gspot, the wet sounds of your arousal fill the room, an intoxicating symphony that drowns out all other thoughts. Each movement, each touch, creates a chorus of slick, rhythmic noises that seem to echo in your mind, pushing you further into a state of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

"So good," you whine and you don't know it but the tips of his ears go red from the sound of your voice. Your brain begins to haze, the world around you blurring until all that exists is the sensation of his ministrations. His touch is both fast and demanding, knowing exactly how to tease and please, drawing you closer to the edge. He reaches a spot inside you that you can only dream about reaching with your own fingers.

"I know baby, I know you feel good. Shit, i cant feel you squeezing my fingers." he groans at the feeling of your cunt convulsing around his digits. He is already two fingers deep in you but at this point he's thinking about stretching you further and slipping in a third. So he does. Using your dripping arousal as lubricant he slips in a third finger making your thighs tremble from the sudden intrusion. The stretch is delicious, who knew a volleyball player's hands had other uses besides volleyball?

"I won for you princess, the whole time i was playing I was thinking about you."

You can feel your pussy tighten and convulse at his words, the clicking sound of your arousal a testament to your connection, your mutual need.

Time loses all meaning as you surrender to the overwhelming sensations. His fingers, his praises, every part of him is dedicated to driving you wild, and you find yourself unable to hold back the moans that escape your lips. The noises you make together are primal, raw, and they pull you deeper into the abyss of pleasure.

"M'feel weird," You choke. Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps as the sensations become almost overwhelming. You feel something press down on your core like there is a pressure building inside you, a sweet, urgent tension that demands release.

"Shhh its ok, let it go baby." He coos and before you can respond he delivers a sharp smack to your ass. "make a mess on my hands, come on~"

The pleasure is so intense, so all-consuming, that it creates an almost paradoxical sensation. The euphoria is so great it feels as though you might lose control, as if you need to pee. It's a raw, primal feeling that heightens the urgency and the pleasure, pushing you further toward the edge.

You squeeze your eyes shut, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity. Your mind races, caught between the need to let go and the fear of losing control. Then, it hits you. with a curl of his fingers against your wall, you surrender to it, letting the sensation wash over you.

Your are too lost in the ecstasy to realize that you are squirting all over his hand. It's like an explosion, your body trembling, your mind going blank, consumed entirely by the pleasure he has given you.

"Just like that, let it go y/n let it go." His hands rubs circles on your ass as your body shakes and trembles from your orgasm.

"So perfect so perfect, the best prize I swear."

HINATA, KUROO, BOKUTO, OIKAWA, TSUKISHIMA, Kenma, Ushijima, IWAZUMI, AKASHI, ATSUMU

[yoshistory]

*puts everything unsightly away* ahhhh finally *nothing is out*

[gojonanami]

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY.

↳ JJK MEN: HOW THEY FUCK YOU WHEN THEY'RE JEALOUS

↳ feat. satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, choso kamo, yuta okkotsu

cw: 18+ only, nsfw, overstimulation (f!), dick drunk, orgasm delay (f!), riding, semi-exhibitionism, spanking, teasing, dom! geto, soft dom! nanami, breeding, body worship, pleasure dom! choso, unprotected sex, creampie, marking, oral (f!), fingering (f!), facesitting (f!), marking (f!), geto uses the term "monkeys," degradation (slut) in geto's blurb, ijichi and ino mentioned in gojo's and choso's blurbs respectively, a/n: the only way to read the title is to the tune of olivia rodrigo's song. also its my first time writing yuta - be gentle.

SATORU GOJO | overstimulation, dick drunk, orgasm delay

jealous of laughing at another's joke

"T-Toru, ngh, please, I can't—" and you're only met with a laugh, his lips pressed against your neck, as his cock continued to fuck you.

How many times had you cum? You had lost count. Your cunt was soaked with your release, along with your thighs and his cock, slipping down his skin as he fucked you hard and fast.

He was relentless, maybe limitless, especially today.

"You can handle it, sweetheart, know this little cunt can take it," he's grunting, as his fingers dig into your plush thighs, "haven't broken this pussy yet," and you couldn't bring yourself to be concerned about the "yet" as he brought you to cum yet again, and you were sure if every word hadn't been fucked out of your brain— it had now.

Your eyes were glazed over, fucked out, as you stared up at him, as only pauses a moment, to press your thighs to your chest, "gonna fuck you right, baby, gotta kiss your womb," and you're whining, and he's only pistoning in deeper, "not so funny now huh?" he's hissing as you grow even fuckin' tighter — how was that possible?

"what are you—" and you whine as his tip grazes even deeper, and you're sure he's somehow fucking your stomach now, "are you jealous of Ijichi?"

"Don't say his name," he gives a particularly rough thrust of his hips to punctuate his point, drawing another squeal from your lips, and yet he's the one who brings him up, "fuckin' laughing at his joke like I wasn't even there. He isn't funny. Nowhere as funny as me!" and you're already close again, tears pooling in your eyes, as you stammer.

Was he really that upset because you laughed at an old friend's bad joke?

"Toru, a-are you serious—" and he's slowing down now to a tortuous pace, as you whimper, "baby, he just made a joke, I was being polite," you can't even laugh at how ridiculous it is with how badly you want to cum.

"Only i'm supposed to see that smile, that laugh," and he's teasing you with the tip of his cock now, dragging it in teasing circles around your clit, "you're mine, mine to make smile, make to make laugh, mine to fuck," and he's fucking you again, bottoming out in one thrust, "say it, baby, tell me who you belong to,"

And your back is arching, throat raw as you tell him just how much he owns you, as you orgasm for the nth time, and he's not far behind, his hot release spurting into your needy cunt, as he fucks it only deeper.

"Toru," you moan again, "Toru, fuck," you murmur, fucked dumb by his dick, as you both come down from your highs, "were you really that jealous of—"

And he only pouts, pressing his lips to yours again, "Don't say his name," and he's pressing needy kisses to your neck, as he pulls out, your mixed cum leaking out, before he's slipping two fingers in, pulling another moan from your lips, "by the time I'm done with you, you won't even remember his name."

SUGURU GETO | riding, semi-exhibitionism, dom!geto, spanking, degradation (slut)

jealous of you talking about someone else

"Princess, you can do better than that," Suguru is clicking his tongue, as you split yourself open on his cock, warm walls squeezing all too deliciously around his already drenched dick, as only whines and pants left your kiss ruined lips, "gonna have to be quieter than that if you don't want someone else to hear—"

He had you riding him in a side room of a temple he used often to collect money, some his other followers congregated in the room over to hear him "preach of the new world." Bullshit that he fed to monkeys that made them full and happy and complacent -- but right now, he had something else that was making you feel so full.

"C'mon baby, ride me like you mean it," he coos, and his hand is coming down on your ass with a mean spank to your already sore ass, heat blooming from the impact, "you certainly had plenty of effort when you were sweet-talking those damn monkeys, didn't you?"

"Sugu, I was just trying to help," you whine, as his hips snap against yours, making you squeal, as he finds his way even deeper into your already fucked out cunt, "I just was--"

"You were flirting," he hisses, as his hands find their way to your hips, forcing you to meet his upward thrusts, as your hands cover your mouth to muffle your moans, "you love this, love it when I fuck you like this, think you want them to see you like this, grinding on my cock like a slut," you whine, but his words only makes your sweet cunt give a telltale clench around his dick, "that's it — you can lie, but your princess cunt can't, baby,"

"Sugu, please 'm close—can't—" and his hands are pulling back, letting you do all the work, and you do, fucking yourself stupid on his cock, the wet squelch of your pussy ringing in your ears — so loud, you can't understand why someone hasn't burst into the room yet— but you can't bring yourself to care, when you're so fuckin' close to cumming.

"That's it, fuck, s'good for me," and he's pulling your hands away from your mouth, letting your moans resonate and fill the room, as he watches a white ring of your cum form around the base of his cock, as he grunts, dick twitching as your walls cream around his cock, "now moan my name as you cum so these goddamn monkeys know whose cock you're bouncing on."

KENTO NANAMI | soft!dom, breeding, hair pulling

jealous of running into an ex

"Did he ever make you feel this good?" Kento's question murmured against your neck, as he presses soft kisses to your neck, dragging his leaking tip against your aching cunt, "did he love you like I did?" And his fingers sneak under your head, making your neck arch as he tugged your hair.

"N-no, Kento, he didn't—"

"He certainly acted as if we were the same," he scoffed at the thought of your ex, the one you had dated before Kento, who had the audacity to approach the two of you today. Catching up with you and even touching your arm, as if your husband wasn't there, even ignoring him, until you introduced him. They had shook hands, and you knew Kento had squeezed his hand a little too hard, but now those same hands were gripping you softly — but firmly.

"He's nothing compared to you you're everything to me," and he's rewarding you with sinking his tip into your needy pussy, "ah, Kento, please stop teasing me," you whine, a noise leaving your throat that you didn't even know you could make.

"You're practically sucking me in, but did you do the same for that bastard?" he's dragging his cock up and down, driving you insane with how your walls squeezed, trying to pull him in, but he resisted every tempting contraction of your sweet cunt, "did you take him this well?" and his teeth graze against the soft skin of your neck, "did he make you beg for him?"

"Only you make me feel this good, only you, Kento, only you make me this needy, make this pussy so—" and he's sinking into you, slowly, torturously, but pleasurably — inch by inch, until he's bottoming out, but he doesn't move, not at first, "please, Kento, please—move—"

And he obliges you, thrusting into you, fucking you in earnest, his cock dragging against your walls with each snap of his hips agianst yours, "such a needy baby," he grunts, "your cunt is trying to hold onto me even as I pull out — is that how much you want my cock? Want me to fill you?"

You're nodding, moaning his name, as you meet his lips in messy kiss, all tongue and teeth, as he fucks you harder, "Look at me, baby," he orders, and your eyes flutter open, meeting his lust clouded gaze, making you all the more sensitive to his touch, "want you to watch me as I breed you," and you're groaning, pussy twitching at the thought, "how're you even tighter?" he grunts, "want me to breed you, don't you? Want me to fill you with my cum? Make you full with my children," and your head is thrown back, voice raw as you can only groan his name again and again.

"Kento, mmph, 'm s'close, can't,"

"Cum for me, baby, let me fill you," he's finding your lips in another sloppy kiss as you cum, hard, walls gripping him as he fucked you through your orgasm. And he's cumming too right behind you, filling your womb with his hot release, "good girl," he murmurs, pressing sweet kisses to your chest, "but if you think I'm done, we're far from finished," and he's pulling out slowly, before gathering his cum that leaked out on his fingers before slipping it back into your still sensitive cunt, "we're not going to be getting much sleep tonight, love."

CHOSO KAMO | body worship, pleasure dom, oral(f), squirting, implied oral (m!)

jealous of a fellow sorcerer flirting

"Cho-so! Nugh, please—" your fingers buried in his black locks, hair ties long since come loose from your tugging — and you're not even sure if you want to pull him closer, or push him away, "i can't—"

"I know you have more in you, my love," he's only murmuring against your sweet cunt, tongue flicking against your swollen clit, "need to feel you flood my mouth, need to taste every inch of you,” he’s re-doubling his efforts, his hot tongue dragging your gummy walls, making good on his promise, “sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted — how are you this perfect? How do I deserve you?” You look at him, nestled between your thighs, his lips and chin glossy with your release, tongue darting out to lick your pre from his lips.

“Choso, y-you do, I love you, only you,” and he’s peering up at you with a lidded gaze — but you see something else besides lust — insecurity lined his furrowed brow, and then it clicks, “you know that Ino was just being friend—"

But he’s burying his face back, fucking your cunt his his tongue, as his thumb teases your needy clit, your words falling away to pleasure.

“It wasn’t just friendly. He wants you. I know the lustful gaze of a man, especially one who wants what I have,” he mutters, as his teeth graze your inner thigh, drawing a gasp from your lips, “but how do I have the right to you? Half curse, half human — what am I really to have the right to be with you?” And then he bites your thigh, pulling a loud moan from your lips, “but I can’t help but want you.”

“I love you, only you, I don’t care what you are. I love everything about you because you’re mine. My Choso,” you manage between pants, as your fingers tug his hair to force him to meet your gaze — make him see the state he’s left you in — utterly fucked out with your chest rising and falling, your eyes glazed over with lust, “please, I need you—"

And that’s all he needs to redouble his errors, rubbing himself on the mattress below him, certainly soaking through his boxers and the sheets.

“Mmph, Choso, please, I’m—“ and his lips latch around your clit, sucking hard, until you squirt on his face, and he’s eagerly lapping up your release, as you moan his name. He’s slurping and swallowing your cum with lips quirked in a smile, his groans and grunts only making your cunt flutter around his tongue.

And he’s pulling away finally, an unspoken question on his lips whether he did well, and your only response is to pull him into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips, before flipping him over. You kiss your way down his body, as you tug his boxers down to free his erection, tongue grazing the underside, making him groan.

You grin, “My turn.”

YUTA OKKOTSU | fingering (f!), marking, face sitting

jealous of an ex you just broke up with

“Yuta, please—" the last word comes out a squeal, as his calloused fingers tease the crotch of your shorts, a warm heat settling over your skin all at once but all too slowly — like the start of a wildfire.

"I told you I'd help you forget about him," he murmurs, his long and lithe fingers all too skilled, as they snap the waistband of your shorts against your skin, "he never deserved you - you're special, especially to me," and he's pulling down your shorts, until you're kicking them away at your feet.

And this fire had spread far too fast — especially with his fingers teasing your folds through your soaked panties.

“Still thinking about him?” Yuta asks softly, his words soft but not the intent, and he only sighs at your whine, "I'll have to do better for you then," and his fingers slip past your ruined underwear as they tug the fabric down your thighs, making butterflies bloom in your stomach before they surely burst into flames from the fire Yuta is brewing, as two fingers part your dripping folds, "already so wet? I've barely started,"

"Yuta," and he's pausing, as you try to form a sentence, but only comes out as a single word, "more," and his lips quirk into a smile.

"Of course," and he's fucking you open nice and slow, your pre slipping down his fingers onto your hardwood living room floor, "i've been wanting to do this for so long — has your ex ever done this for you?" and you only swallow, whining when he stops, only continuing when you shake your head, "you deserve so much, you deserve the world," and a third finger sinks into you, making you cry out his name, "that's it, love, let me make you feel good."

"Yuta, please," you moan, as his fingers drag against your needy cunt, as he noses the nape of your neck, placing wet kisses along your neck, before his teeth graze your sensitive skin, sucking and licking marks that surely will dot your skin the next day, "ah—"

"Mine," he murmurs, and that makes your cunt twitch around his fingers — god you were so close, so close—and that's right when he's pulling his fingers out.

"Yut—" and he's licking your release from his fingers, before he's tugging you into a bruising kiss, sticking his tongue out to meet yours in a messy kiss, before he's pulling you on top of him, wet cunt pressed against his chest, "what are you--"

"Sit on my face," he says, his pupils nearly completely dark as he meets your gaze, "i want to show you what you've been missing -- how you deserve to be treated," and the blood rushes to your face, as your head shakes no, but he can feel your pussy say yes -- walls squeezing around nothing, "please,"

"Yuta, you don't have to—" but he's unwavering in his gaze, "what if I crush you?"

"It wouldn't be the worst way to go — you know I did have a secret execution scheduled before," and you smack him, but he only catches you by the wrist and kisses each finger, licking your fingertips, sending heat right to your cunt, "let me make you feel good — better than he ever has," and now you realize what it is — it's jealousy.

So you settle above his face, your cheeks burning as you feel his breath warm your aching pussy, "don't worry," and he's helping you ease yourself onto his lips, and right before his tongue drags slowly along the length of your sopping cunt, "you won't remember your name, much less his, after this."

a/n: i just realized i used a similar line in gojo's and yuta's, but y'know what, like teacher like student. what was this? who knows? will i do something like this again? maybe.