#The Perfect Personalised Gift | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kvroomi · 1 month ago

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the twelve days of christmas (kuroo’s ver)

summary: the twelve days leading up to christmas with kuroo and the different ways he shows you his love each time.

listening to: anything - adrienne lenker

tags: kuroo x fem!reader, domestic fluff, minor swearing, reader’s first language is english, reader has hair

author note: IM SO LATE I KNOW, but a massive late merry christmas to all who celebrate! hoping everyone is doing well these winter or summer holidays and spending time with/doing who/what you all love the most. wishing everyone well into this coming new year! may 2025 bring you wealth and good health ❤️‍🩹

i giggled to myself too many times while writing this it’s embarrassing i seriously think this is the cutest thing i’ve ever posted. also just wanted to share that the second i started writing for the final day (day 12), it turned 11:11 and i think that’s a sign

on the first day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—a single christmas ornament personalised with your initials. his fingers held the small box in a way that was both cautious and arrogant—a perfect portrayal of his well-known charm. his frame leaned against the doorway to your apartment, his cheeks flushed from the december cold and the faintest smirk decorating his lips.

you were seated on the couch, your hands curled around a mug of tea. though you loved winter, it just happened to be one of those evenings where the world outside felt grey and cold. you supposed your long day was partly to blame, though you’d almost immediately forgotten about it the second you stepped inside, because there he was; he who was always warm and always golden.

“on the first day of christmas,” he began dramatically, “your loving boyfriend gifted to thee…” trailing off, he held the box aloft like it was the climax of some grand performance.

you raised an eyebrow, unimpressed though very amused. “is it socks? please tell me it’s socks. i feel like i’ve been dropping very unsubtle hints.”

your own interest had piqued just from your rambles alone, your mind unconsciously racking through endless possibilities of what could be in the box. now your body has shifted from casually leaned up on the back of the couch to sitting at the edge, eager to find out what gift awaited you.

“socks?” kuroo scoffed, shutting the door behind him with his foot. “do i look like the kind of guy who gives socks on day one? socks are at least day four material.”

“ah, my mistake.” you purse your lips in apology before taking a sip of your tea and watching as he sat beside you, his knee brushing against yours.

“wait, hold on.there’s more gifts coming?” you whipped your head towards his in realisation.

kuroo smelled faintly of pine. whether from a nearby tree lot or just because he insisted on using a “woodsy” cologne, you couldn’t tell. he simply shrugged sheepishly in response and you gave a wearisome huff.

“alright well… go on then, magician. what’s in the box?”

with a theatrical wave, kuroo opened the lid. inside was a single christmas ornament: shiny and delicate, etched with your initials in exquisite gold lettering. it caught the dim light of your living room and scattered it like tiny stars.

you stared at it for a moment, caught off guard by how sweet it was—intimate, even. it wasn’t that kuroo was incapable of romance. he was, in his own teasing way… but this felt different. it felt a lot more thoughtful.

“an ornament,” you said finally, reaching out to touch it. “wow... this is… weirdly adorable. are you feeling okay?”

“don’t ruin it,” he hushed pretending to be offended, though you could see the corners of his mouth twitching. “i thought we’d start a tradition. every year, one new ornament. you know, build up a collection. by the time we’re old and grey, we’ll have a whole tree full of memories. romantic, right?” he winked playfully.

you blinked, caught between laughter and something warmer and deeper. “that’s actually—wow. that’s disgustingly sweet, tetsu.”

“i’m just full of surprises, babe.” his hand dipped gently into the box and handed you the ornament, fingers lingering against yours. “just don’t get too used to it because tomorrow’s gift is going to be hilariously impractical.”

you turned the ornament over in your hand, the gold initials shining faintly. “okay… i just can’t get over how my initials are way prettier than yours? if this tradition continues, i fear we might need to just skip out on an ornament with your name so the tree stays pretty.”

“pffft, it’s not my fault you’ve got better branding,” he grinned as he draped an arm over your shoulder. “if it makes you feel better, next year i’ll go full kuroo—big and bold. i’m thinking something shiny and impossible to ignore. perhaps an ornament shaped like my face instead?”

you laughed, leaning into him. “i’d hang it front and center, right where everyone could see it.”

his smile softened. “great. that’s where i’d want it to be.”

you stayed like that for a while, his hand tracing slow circles on your shoulder. outside, the world was cold and distant, but thanks to kuroo, it felt like the season itself was bright, and full of beginnings.

on the second day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—two matching christmas mugs lined with photos from your recent photobooth trip. kuroo lied yesterday when he said today’s gift was going to be “hilariously impractical” but he wouldn’t tell you until you found out yourself. the box was suspiciously light when he handed it to you, his grin giving away both everything and nothing at all. he’d ambushed you in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you prepped your nightly tea with a knowing look.

it was day two of his so-called “twelve days of christmas” series, and if yesterday’s ornament hadn’t been both weirdly heartwarming, you might have been more cautious. but this was kuroo—the fun was in the gamble.

“i know you’re dying to see what’s inside,” he urged, the teasing lilt in his voice as familiar as his cologne. “guess. it’s the perfect gift for someone like you.”

“someone like me?” you narrowed your eyes, glancing between him and the box. “what’s that supposed to mean? should i be insulted?”

he placed his chin between his index finger and thumb, thoughtfully. “hmmm… insulted, no. concerned, maybe. thrilled? definitely.”

you scowled at him before turning to open the box slowly, drawing it out just to see him fidget. inside was a white mug—unassuming, plain, even. too plain for kuroo. you turned to him, mug in one hand and the other on your hip.

“wow,” you deadpanned. “a mug. revolutionary. thank you tetsuro for single-handedly redefining the art of gift giving.”

“ah-ah.” he wagged a finger in front of your face, grabbing the mug before you could set it down along with the other mugs in your extensive collection. “this isn’t just a mug. this is a magic mug.”

you blinked. once. twice. and three times before stuttering out a “sorry?”

he sauntered to the kettle, pouring hot water into the cup with the flair of a magician revealing the final act. you watched almost agonisingly slowly, as the heat spread and the surface began to change. the once white mug was now fading to colour. your breath hitched as the image emerged: a photo from your last impulsive photo booth trip.

there you were, mid-laugh with your face tilted toward his. his grin was wide and toothy, hand half-raised as if mid-gesture. the next frame showed your cheeks puffed in anger, while kuroo looked genuinely alarmed with one hand outstretched as if apologizing. and the cherry on top of the final frame? pure love—his chin buried in your shoulder with your hands on either side of his cheeks, squishing his face into something utterly ridiculous.

you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, warm and unfiltered. “oh my god, this is what you chose?”

“what can i say?” he pushed himself back against the counter, watching your reaction with a soft sort of pride. “i’m a sucker for authenticity and you look adorable in that last one.”

“adorable?!” another laugh bubbled from you as you gestured wildly at the cup, now fully transformed. “i look like i’m wrestling you into submission!”

“exactly,” he uttered, completely serious. “it’s very ‘us.’”

half-exasperated, half-melting under the sheer absurdity of it all, you replied. “i’m going to use this in every meeting i have. i’ll be sipping from this in front of clients and coworkers.”

he grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “perfect. let the world know you’re stuck with me.”

cue the classic eye roll. the warmth in his voice, the way he let his fingers trace lazy patterns on your arm—it disarmed you, as it always did.

“well,” you pressed a kiss to his jaw, “i guuuueeeesss i do need a mug for tea.”

“that’s the spirit.” he picked up his own matching mug, the photo identical but reversed. “and now, when we’re apart, you can look at me squished like a pancake and remember how much you love me.”

for the third time, you couldn’t help but laugh again, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “you’re ridiculous.”

his voice dipped low as he kissed your temple, “here you are loving me anyway.”

and he was right. of course he was right.

on the third day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—three of his favourite, special, christmas recipes. he arrived at your door with a snow-dusted grin and a peculiar sort of confidence—though that was nothing out of the blue. he held a single envelope; it was a little worn around the edges, with your name scribbled across the front in his messy, self-assured handwriting. no grand box like the past two days, no wrapping paper, and no telltale jingles of something extravagant. all that was held between his fingers was the envelope.

“is this a love letter?” you asked, pulling him inside by the sleeve of his coat to stop the cold from clinging to his cheeks. his cheeks were a warm shade of pink and had you had stared at them any longer than you already had, you would’ve kept him outside just so you could stare at how soft he looked for even longer. “because i gotta say, day three seems a little early for declarations of undying devotion.”

“ha ha, not a love letter,” he responded sarcastically, toeing off his boots and shrugging out of his coat. he stood in the middle of your walkway with his hands on his hips, watching you with that unshakable kuroo observation. “though if you want one i could probably draft something up. i’d write about your eyes, your laugh, and the way you snore when you’re—”

a single flick to his forehead to stop him before he could finish, and he lets out a laugh, all mischief and charm.

“okaaay, what’s in the envelope, then?” you asked, shaking it lightly as you moved toward the kitchen. naturally, kuroo followed like he belonged in your space.

“three gifts in one,” he announces, tapping the counter. “an entrée, a main course, and a dessert—recipes straight from the kuroo tetsuro vault of holiday magic.”

you nodded, taking in what he said and ending it with a shrug. “the kuroo tetsuro vault of holiday magic? huh, sounds legit.”

“oh, it’s legit,” kuroo leaned in slightly, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “these are the recipes that made my grandma call me her favourite. this—” he jabs at the envelope in your hand before continuing, “—holds recipes my teammates still beg me to make whenever i’m back home. they’re recipes that are, dare i say, iconic.”

you opened the envelope, pulling out three sheets of paper each written in his handwriting, complete with small drawings in the margins.

as your fingers traced the edges of the paper, the room shifted. the glow of the kitchen lights softened, the air thick with something quiet and familiar. you’d awaited a playful gesture—a joke gift wrapped in kuroo’s usual brand of teasing. perhaps something loud and irreverent to match the way he filled a room, but this? this was different.

the ink on the pages flowed sweetly from one side to the other—slightly smudged in places. you knew it spoke of hours spent leaning over a counter, a pen in his hand and you in his mind. each word carried a history with memories of family kitchens—laughter echoing through the years, a tradition he was choosing to share with you. it was so intimate in a way that pressed against the deepest crevices of your heart, unexpected and unspoken. it was like being handed the key to a door you hadn’t realized you’d been standing in front of.

all you could do was glance up at him, your voice caught somewhere between a laugh and a breath you hadn’t yet let go. “this feels… so personal,” was all you could squeeze out, quieter than you meant to.

kuroo who was against the counter, watched with an expression that was almost unreadable, his usual smirk replaced with a smile. “it is,” was all he said, and the weight of those words settled over you like snow on the branches outside.

it wasn’t just recipes. it wasn’t just a gift. it was a glimpse into the places he didn’t offer easily to the world—the spaces he reserved for family, for love, for you. the realisation unfurled slowly like the first bloom of warmth on a winter morning.

“hey,” he murmured whilst stepping closer, his hand brushing against yours as he gently laid the pages down onto the kitchen counter. “don’t overthink it. i just wanted to give you something real. something that… feels like home.”

you glanced down at the pages. the first was for an appetizer: roasted chestnut and butternut squash soup. there were notes about how the squash needed to be caramelised just right, along with a drawing of a smiling chestnut wearing a christmas hat.

the second was the main dish: honey-glazed ham with a cranberry-orange reduction. beneath the instructions he’d written, ‘if this doesn’t make you swoon, i’m giving up on holidays forever.’

the third was dessert, of course. written in black ink was his family’s secret recipe for gingerbread cookies with notes on how to make them crispy on the edges but soft in the middle. there was a poorly sketched gingerbread man doing a backflip in the corner.

“tetsuro,” you whispered reading through them, the thoughtfulness sinking in. “these are actually amazing.”

“of course they are,” he responds, moving to stand behind you with his chin resting on your shoulder as he peered at the recipes. “but they’re not just recipes. they’re invitations.”

“invitations?”

he tilted his head slightly, his hair brushing against your cheek. “to make them. together. think of it as a bonding exercise. or a relationship test. can we survive one kitchen, one oven, and three recipes without a holiday meltdown? high stakes, i know.”

now you really couldn’t hold back the laugh. folding the papers back into the envelope you continued, “so, what happens if we pass this ‘test’? what’s the reward?”

he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, his voice warm and teasing. “you get to keep me, obviously. and maybe some awesome leftovers.”

you turn to face him, envelope in hand. your chest settles with the same feeling of warmth that had nothing to do with the kitchen. “you know,” you lean in slightly, “for a guy who smuggles his personality in through bad puns and bad jokes, you’re actually kind of romantic.”

“kind of?” he echoed, feigning offense. “i just handed you the culinary equivalent of my heart, and i get “kind of” romantic?”

you kissed him, cutting off his fake tirade. your hands find their way to his collar and when you pulled back, his grin was smug but softer, like he’d just won something only the two of you could understand.

“now, which recipe do we ruin first?”

on the fourth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—four candles, each paired with a scent from a particular memory you had through every season that year. the snow on his shoes had melted into slush by the time kuroo had arrived home from work, boots squeaking on the wooden floors as he entered your apartment. dropping his scarf onto your chair and his coat on another, he finally let himself fall on the armrest of your couch. low and behold, balancing on his leg was yet another box, significantly larger that the past two he had gifted you already.

“are you here to redecorate or ruin our furniture?” you asked, looking up from your laptop as you glared at the wet spots forming around your couch.

“i bring gifts,” he announced proudly like a dramatic oracle. “four of them, actually. one for every season.”

you hummed. “wait! let me guess, a pinecone for winter, a seashell for summer, a pile of wet leaves for autumn—”

“wow. you really have not been giving me any credit, even after yesterday’s absolute banger of a gift!” kuroo interrupted while you snorted next to him, watching as he scooted closer to you on the couch and handed you the box. “this, my love, is the culmination of hours of research, consideration, and—you’ll be surprised to hear—minimal swearing.”

you sat up intrigued, raising an eyebrow and peeled the lid off. nestled inside were four candles, each carefully labeled with a card on top in his handwriting which had looked like it had been scrawled by a caffeinated bird—you found it so endearing

“spring: cherry blossoms and rain-soaked pavement,” you read aloud, pulling the first candle out.

“‘cause of the park!” kuroo winked at you, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “y’know, when we tried to have a picnic but you spent half the time yelling at me to stop stepping in the puddles?”

“tried is the keyword there,” you retorted wittily, though your lips curved into a frown at the memory. “and you splashed mud on my shoes.”

“you mean i decorated your shoes,” he shot back without missing a beat.

the summer candle came next, and the scent of salty air and something faintly fruity filled your nostrils. you froze.

“the beach,” it was such a distinct memory for both you and kuroo, “the one with the frisbee game…”

“where i heroically rescued it from that evil seagull,” he finished, and when you looked up towards him, his grin was unapologetic.

“you ate shit running away afterwards.”

“unnecessary details, babe,” he shook his head, waving a dismissive hand.

autumn smelled like spiced cider and faint traces of smoke, the memory wrapped around you like a worn flannel—cool nights, warm hands, and kuroo pointing at the sky with wild confidence as he made up constellations.

“that one’s kuroo’s cluster,” he’d sleepily said that night, pointing to a random spot in the sky. “because it looks like it forgot what it was doing halfway through.”

that candle earned a spot on the coffee table.

finally, winter. the label read ‘evergreen and vanilla latte’ and as soon as the wick was lit, the room was filled with something achingly familiar. the scent of him—of mornings spent curled up together with his laughter spilling into your coffee like the easiest thing in the world.

you didn’t speak for a moment; you didn’t trust your voice. instead, you reached for the winter candle again, holding it like it might explain something to you if you focused hard enough.

“i thought they might be nice to have around,” kuroo added, his tone quieter now as he watched you with that expression he wore when he thought you weren’t paying attention. “like, if i’m not here or something. you’d still… have the moments. or the scents. or—okay, i’m bad at explaining this.”

“you’re not,” this time you were the one to interrupt him—though your voice betrayed you, cracking slightly at the edges.

his grin usual returned, soft and crooked. “you’re not gonna cry, are you? i don’t have tissues on me.”

you snorted, swiping at your eyes before any tears could fall. “i’m just impressed. you managed to make yet another gift that’s thoughtful and functional. what’s next? a calendar with all the dates we’ve argued circled in red?”

“now there’s an idea,” he laughed—big, loud, and very kuroo. resting an arm along the back of the couch, he sighs. “but that’s for next year. for now, you just get the candles. and me, obviously.”

“ how lucky i am,” you mocked, though when he leaned closer, his forehead brushing against yours, the words fell into the warm silence between you.

“you are, actually,” his voice was low and teasing, “because i really am as great as i smell.”

for once, you didn’t argue.

on the fifth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—five flowers all wrapped up in a bouquet he designed himself. it was just after sundown when kuroo was unlocking the door and stepping inside of your home. the paper he held was crinkled in his grip while the flowers peeked out at odd angles, a mix of bold colors and delicate whites. you cocked a brow at him, eyes wandering and questioning

“is this day five?” you gestured to the bouquet. “don’t get me wrong, i’m so grateful… but what’s the theme here, tetsuro? did you run out of budget or is this an act of minimalism?”

his grin was slow and easy, the kind that always seemed to have a secret tucked behind it. you learned to accept it. he laughed, stepping past you and into your apartment, leaving the cold trailing behind. “i may have argued with the florist over ribbon choices—but that’s besides the point.”

“wha—” he handed you the bouquet with a seductive wink. as you took it, you noticed the odd composition—a single red tulip, a deep purple iris, a white daisy, a bright yellow sunflower, and a pale pink rose.

“five flowers for five things,” stepping back to watch your expression, he continued, “each one is for something i love about you.”

and just when you thought it wasn’t possible for kuroo to surprise you anymore than he already did, you were proven wrong again. stilling, you let yourself feel the weight of his words as they settled into tge tips of your fingers. “you made this?”

“mmm, well i designed it,” he corrected, the smugness now tempered by something a little more humble. “technically i only arranged it. poured my soul into it though. the tulip’s for how bold you are. you’ve got this way of standing out even when you think you’re blending in. it’s infuriating, honestly.”

you ran your fingers over the tulip’s petals, and his voice softened as he pointed to the next.

“the iris is for how much smarter you are than me.” there was no bite in his tone. “don’t get a big head about it, i still beat you at trivia night last month.” you opened your mouth to protest, but he was already moving on.

“the daisy? for how annoyingly kind you are. to me, to strangers, to stray cats in alleyways. you make everyone feel like they matter.”

your throat tightened as his fingers brushed over the edge of the sunflower.

“this one’s for how much light you bring into my life. it’s cheesy as hell, trust me i know, but…” all he offered was a shrug, his grin faltering for a split moment. “i mean it.”

he hadn’t looked up at you yet, still in a dream state as he gazed at the last flower. pausing at the rose, his hand dropped back to his side. his pitch lower, more intimate, when he said, “and the rose is for how much i love you. no explanation needed for that one.”

the only sound you could hear was the faint of the bouquet as you shifted it in your hands. for a moment, all the teasing and the wit and the usual sharpness between you dissolved into something quieter—something raw and real.

“tetsu,” you said softly, but you couldn’t find the words to follow.

if there was one thing you loved more than his gifts, it was his dorky lopsided grin. “i told myself i wouldn’t get all sappy,” he scratched the back of his neck. “but you know how i get around flowers. turns me into a total poet.”

“not a very good one,” if there was one thing you could manage while holding back tears, it was witty retorts to kuroo’s words.

“yikes,” he feigned hurt, but his smile didn’t falter. “so, do you like it? orrrr should i just stick to chocolates next year?”

you looked down at the bouquet. gazing at every colour, at the thought he’d put into every flower, every scent, every message hidden in their petals—your heart ached with the weight of it.

“i love it,” you whimpered, your voice trembling just enough for him to catch it. “i love you.”

his smile softened, his hand reaching up to brush a stray hair from your face. “good,” his voice was warm. “because i’ve got seven more days of this, and i’m not letting you return a single gift.”

on the sixth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—six different ways to say “i love you” in different languages. kuroo waltzed into your living room on the sixth day of his increasingly elaborate holiday gifting holding a small stack of cue cards in one hand and an overly confident grin on his face.

“alright,” he began, dropping onto the couch beside you, “today’s gift is educational: a little bit of culture, a little bit of romance.”

setting your mug of tea down in interest, you were skeptical—like always. “if this ends with me being serenaded in bad french, i’m locking you out.”

he loudly gasped in offense, clutching the cue cards to his chest. “excuse me? my french is impeccable.”

“your french is embarrassing.”

ignoring you, he flipped the first card toward you, reading it aloud. in his handwriting were the words, je t’aime.

“see? classic,” his accent was questionable at best. “it’s romantic, it’s timeless. and you can’t deny that it sounds a little better than just ‘i love you.’”

“except when you say it like that,” you teased.

he pretends to be unfazed, choking back a laugh and your playful jab. he revealed the next card: ich liebe dich.

“this one’s german. it’s efficient and to the point like a well-engineered car,” he said, adding a dramatic comparison. “say it back. come on. ich liebe dich.”

“i’m not repeating that.”

“coward,” he muttered, flipping to the third card: ti amo.

“now, this one is for when i’m feeding you pasta,” he gestures extravagantly. “picture it: candlelit dinner, spaghetti, me leaning over the table like i’m straight out of an old Italian film. “ti amo.”.”

you snorted. “more like you spilling marinara sauce on your shirt.”

“uncultured,” he sighed, shaking his head.

the next card read, saranghae. he held it up with a bit more reverence.

“this one’s korean,” he explained. “it’s sweet, right? got a nice rhythm. saranghae.” there was a pause, almost in quiet contemplation, before kuroo then added slyly, “you’re swooning right now, i can tell.”

“oh, absolutely. weak in the knees,” you said straight faced.

“perfect. that’s the goal.”

the fifth card: te quiero.

“spanish. it means ‘i love you,’ but it’s also like, ‘i care about you.’ multifaceted. practical and emotional,” he said, tapping his temple like it was a genius move.

you smiled, “are you planning to take me on a multilingual tour of love, or are we stopping here?”

“patience, my love,” and kuroo flipped to the final card. aloha wau iā ʻoe.

“that’s hawaiian,” he said, his tone softer now. “it’s not just ‘i love you.’ it’s… bigger than that. like, ‘i carry you with me.’”

he grinned, setting the cards aside. “see? i’m not just a pretty face.”

“you’re insane,” you shook your head, your voice betraying the warmth blooming in your chest and the small smile that lingered across your lips.

“and yet,” he teased, leaning closer, “you’re still here. must be the german.”

“definitely not.”

on the seventh day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—seven handmade coupons for morning coffees made by yours truly, (kuroo). you woke up to the sound of him humming in the kitchen, the smell of coffee curling through the air and gently rolling you awake. when you stumbled into the room (still half-asleep), he greeted you with a little stack of paper slips tied together with string.

“good morning, sleeping beauty,” he pushed a warm cup of coffee into your hands. “your seventh gift awaits.”

you squinted at him and then at the handmade coupons he held out. each one had “one homemade morning coffee” written across it.

“coupons?” you questioned flatly.

“not just coupons,” he quickly answered, moving to send a flick to your forehead. “these are artisanal. limited edition. handcrafted with love.”

“they look like they were crafted by a toddler.”

“ouch,” he whined, clutching his chest as though wounded. “but fine, let’s break it down. seven coffees for each day of the week, exactly how you like them. frothy milk, not too hot. just a dash of cinnamon, because i know you pretend not to like it but secretly, you love it.”

he had read you to filth. “and what happens after i use up all seven?”

“oh, you’ll be addicted by then,” he replied with a charismatic wink. “i’m just playing the long game.”

toying with the crumpled paper and inspecting them more closely, you notice one of them had an additional note scribbled in the corner: bonus: i’ll even let you take the last sip of my coffee ;)

you shook your head in disbelief. this was so unlike kuroo. with furrowed brows, you turned to him, “you hate sharing coffee.”

“uh, correction: i hate sharing coffee with other people. with you, it’s an act of love.”

“and when can i actually make good with these?” you asked, tucking the coupons into your pocket.

“whenever you demand it,” he bowed, “i’m at your service always—currently a barista for hire. oh but i must say, full disclosure, my latte art is limited to blobs.”

“blobs?”

“abstract hearts,” he clarified with a grin. “call it modern—trendy, if you will”

kuroo’s coffee was as much of an experience as it was a drink. the surface of the latte was crowned with an ambitious attempt at foam art—what could generously be described as a heart. a faint dusting of cinnamon kissed the frothy top, swirling faintly as the steam rose.

it definitely wasn’t perfect, but it was him—warm, unpolished, and just a little disordered. you could already imagine it in your head, the endearing way he would’ve tilted his head, squinting at the cup like an artist critiquing his own masterpiece.

you laughed, shaking your head at the thought. kuroo must’ve thought you were laughing at his response because he was quick to be defensive.

“hey, all hearts are beautiful,” his arms were sternly crossed against his chest as he stared down at you. “besides, you drink it—not frame it.”

so with a nod, you sipped the coffee in your hands. to no one’s surprise—he’d made it perfectly, nailing everything down to the faint sprinkle of cinnamon you always pretended not to want.

“okay,” you clapped both your hands together enthusiastically, setting the mug down and pushing all the coupons into your pocket. “you’re on the clock for the rest of the week. let’s see if you can actually make seven cups as good as this one.”

kuroo smirked, holding the cup up like it was his greatest triumph. “challenge accepted. but don’t get used to this level of service. i’m not planning on opening a café any time soon.”

you feigned a groan of anguish, already mourning the image you had of him in an apron with his name embroidered across the front in your head.

“oh, you’re definitely opening a café,” you teased. “i’m making it my eighth gift request.”

“dream big, babe,” he laughed, sending a pinch to your cheek before walking towards to living room. “for now, enjoy the best coffee in town, made by the best boyfriend in the world.”

it was silly and over-the-top. yet, as you watched him carefully pour milk into another mug for himself, you couldn’t help but smile into your own coffee; there might be something dangerously romantic about a man who knows your drink order better than you do.

on the eighth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—eight slices of your favourite pizza. the pizza box was waiting for you on the counter unwrapped. the unmistakable aroma of your favorite pizza in the air—an irresistible invitation. kuroo, sitting at the dining table, watched you approach it with an excited smile.

“eight slices,” he gestured grandly as he stood up, both hands present the box to you. “one for each day of christmas so far. thoughtful, isn’t it?” he pretended to flick back a long piece of hair in an attempt of confidence.

“you know i’ll eat this entire thing in one sitting,” you felt like you could cry from happiness, already reaching for the lid.

“exactly.” he tapped his temple. “a gift that vanishes is a gift you can’t overthink. i’m saving you from existential dread.”

you laughed, thanking him as you opened the box. there it was: your favorite pizza, glistening like a treasure chest filled with molten gold and perfectly crisp toppings. the ultimate kicker? each slice had been marked with a sharpie inside the box.

“tetsuro… what are these labels?”

“guided eating,” he straightened up.

sure enough, written beside each slice in his looping handwriting were notes:

slice 1: for courage, because braving multiple years with me deserves a medal.

slice 2: for patience, because i’m pretty sure i’m still not folding the laundry right and you fix it every time without any complaint.

slice 3: for joy, because watching you smile is better than any christmas lights.

slice 4: for forgiveness (in advance), for what i might say during monopoly later.

slice 5: for luck, because you’ll need it to beat me at monopoly later.

slice 6: for love, because i can’t put that in words so i’ll give you pizza.

slice 7: for adventure, in case you want to try pineapple on your pizza next time.

slice 8: for tomorrow, unless you eat this one too. which honestly, i think you should.

you couldn’t decide whether to laugh, cry, or throttle him for being such an over-the-top sap.

“this is such an odd gift, tetsu!,” you couldn’t stop laughing, though your eyes stung and your chest ached in that intimate, tender way he always managed to conjure.

“oddly perfect?” he sheepishly replied, grabbing a slice and handing it to you. “come on. start with courage.”

immediately you took a bite and sighed. it was exactly as good as you remembered. somehow knowing he’d gone through the trouble of this strange display made it even better.

“you’re quite weird,” you said, wiping your lips with a napkin.

“oh come on, you love me,” he bumped his hip with yours.

you glanced at the box and then at him. you thought about how much of yourself he’d somehow folded into this simple, silly gift—your personality and your habits.

“i do,” you admitted, because how could you not?

as you grabbed the next slice: patience—you decided that eight slices of pizza might just be the most romantic thing you’d ever been given.

on the ninth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—nine random, sweet text messages that pop up randomly throughout the day. the first one buzzed into your phone just as you were pulling on your coat, the frosted morning sunlight bleeding through the blinds.

tetsu: on the 9th day of christmas my true love gave 2 me

tetsu: one notification 2 make u smile.

tetsu: good morning, 2 my favourite person ever.

it was simple and playful—and it did its job. you did smile. giddily tugging your scarf tighter against the chill, you headed out the door.

the second one came while you were waiting for your coffee, a notification cutting through the quiet of the café.

tetsu: if i were a latte, i’d want 2 b the one in ur hand rn

tetsu: u always pick the good ones

you almost rolled your eyes but found yourself chuckling into your sleeve. he had a knack for being perfectly timed and charming simultaneously.

by the third, you realised this wasn’t a coincidence. he was going to send you nine, sweet, little messages throughout today.

tetsu: just saw a dog wearing a little sweater and thought of u

tetsu: not sure why

tetsu: both equally adorable.

it hit your phone as you walked past a store display of knitted scarves, the kind you knew he’d wrinkle his nose at and insist were “over-engineered neck warmers.” you texted back a sarcastic ‘wow, smooth’ and almost swore you could hear his laughter from wherever he was.

the fourth through sixth arrived like little spoonfuls of sugar in your coffee, scattered throughout your day.

#4 tetsu: if i told u i missed u, would u roll ur eyes or tell me 2 hurry home?

tetsu: asking 4 science

#5 tetsu: totally random fact

tetsu: u’re the best person i know

tetsu: not random enough?

tetsu: fine. penguins have knees

#6 tetsu: it’s scientifically proven that texting u makes me 87% happier

tetsu: i just ran the numbers

by the seventh text, you were incredibly flustered. not because they were overly romantic (he always balanced it with his wit), but because they were clever, thoughtful, and wholly attuned to you in a way that felt almost unfair.

the eighth came as you were locking up for the evening, fumbling with your keys.

tetsu: i’d offer 2 carry the world for u but u’re doing a pretty good job carrying it urself

tetsu: don’t work 2 hard

it was such a simple set of words, but it hit you in a way none of the others had. its tenderness slipped through your defenses. naturally, you stopped—fingers tightening around your phone wondering how someone could make you feel so seen from miles away.

the ninth and final message arrived when you were home. you were peeling off your layers and finally sinking into the couch when you felt the vibration in your pant pocket.

tetsu: if love was measured in words then nine texts wouldn’t come close

tetsu: but hey, it’s a start

tetsu: c u soon

the doorbell rang almost immediately after and you couldn’t help but giggle as you opened it to find him standing there with snow in his hair, a grin on his face, and two cardboard cups of steaming hot chocolate in his hands.

“nine texts weren’t enough,” he said with a shrug. “thought i’d deliver the tenth in person.”

you let him in with a kiss. still laughing, you decided that no matter how odd or cheesy his efforts were, you wouldn’t choose to have him any other way.

on the tenth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—ten silly little drawings of you. the tenth day of christmas came as quickly as the past couple days had. after dinner had been packed away—dishes done and table cleaned, you and kuroo sat across each other at the dinner table with bowls of ice cream in front of you. it was then that from under the table, kuroo pulled out and handed you a mismatched stack of papers tied together with a velvet ribbon that looked suspiciously too elegant for something he’d own. you gave him a look, one eyebrow arched. “did you steal this ribbon from one of my gifts?”

“i repurposed it!” he defended, nudging the stack closer to you from across the table with his spoon and air of mock grandeur. “quick! my magnum opus awaits.”

you untied the ribbon, and the first thing you saw was a piece of cardboard with what appeared to be a stick figure rendition of you sitting cross-legged on a couch. above it were the words, “my muse, lost in thought (translation: watching trashy reality tv)”.

“what the—?” you interrupted yourself trying to suppress a laugh as you turned to the next page. a receipt from your local grocery store confused you, but once you flipped to the back, you saw it. kuroo had sketched a profile view of you mid-yawn, the exaggerated swoop of your hair curling over your head like a wave.

“it’s art, obviously,” he chuckled, leaning over your shoulder to get a closer look. “it’s called ‘ten views of my love in her natural habitat.’”

“oh my god, you’re impossible,” there was a familiar warmth growing in your chest—one you had been feeling every day this week.

you flipped through the rest:

a coffee sleeve: sketched was you, deep in concentration with a mug in your hand, sitting on the couch with the caption, “she said she wasn’t a morning person, but look at her with that coffee. magnificent.”

the back of a to-do list: sketched was you, mid-argument with your stick-figure arms dramatically flailing with the caption, “terrorising me because i forgot to do the laundry (but she’s right).”

a post-it note: sketched was you, reading a book with the words “too pretty to be distracted” written at the top in kuroo’s terrible handwriting.

by the sixth drawing, it was on the back of an old takeout menu—you stopped trying to hide your grin. “you’re actually pretty talented, you know that?”

“ridiculously talented,” he grinned back. “and ridiculously smitten.”

the seventh was your face, exaggerated into cartoonish proportions and drawn on a torn piece of fabric. the caption read, “she said i couldn’t draw so i gave her big eyes. now she’s anime”

by the time you reached the tenth which was a hasty sketch of your hand holding his, drawn on a napkin from your favourite restaurant—you felt the laugh catch in your throat. beneath the image, he’d written: “a masterpiece: her, letting me love her.”

“it’s dumb, i know,” kuroo slowly started, suddenly shy and scratching the back of his neck. “but i seriously couldn’t help it. i see you everywhere—on receipts, on napkins, in coffee sleeves. you’re just…always there.”

“it’s not dumb,” you said quietly, holding the napkin like it was something precious.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

you leaned into the chair, kuroo’s head resting atop your own and the stack of silly little drawings sitting in your lap as you went through everything again—your ice creams long forgotten as they melted under the light of the kitchen.

on the eleventh day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—eleven “i’ll do it” moments. he appeared in your doorway that saturday morning, sleeves rolled up and hair a little disheveled. there was an air of martyrdom with his presence so exaggerated you almost thought violins were to start playing.

“i’ll do it,” he announced, almost parallel to delivering the opening line of a shakespearean tragedy.

you looked up from your laptop, alarmed “do what?”

“whatever it is! dishes, laundry, taking out the trash, assembling that ridiculously complicated shelf you bought because it “might come in handy.” ” he punctuated the last word with air quotes, tone laced with theatrical suffering. “today, i am your humble servant. point, and i’ll fix.”

you guessed your skepticism must have obviously plastered over your face because he was quick to add, “no catch, promise.” he held his pinky finger up, “it’s my eleventh gift to you—eleven ‘i’ll do it’s.’”

leaning back with your arms crossed, you gently nudged your laptop aside. “this feels suspicious.”

“suspiciously romantic,” strolling into the room and perching on the end of your bed, he continued. “think about it. eleven acts of selfless service—that’s love language gold.”

“this feels morally wrong,” you both laughed.

kuroo stood abruptly, gesturing to the room like he was on a game show. “okay, quick demo. that pile of laundry in the corner? i’ll fold it. the trash bag sitting by the door? out it goes. oh! and because i’m feeling generous…” he paused dramatically, turning to you with a grin. “…i’ll even organize the pantry.”

you swear your jaw dropped so hard it hit the ground. “no… the pantry? seriously?”

“the pantry,” he repeated solemnly much like a knight vowing to slay a dragon. “i know how much it bothers you when the bowls in there aren’t lined up in order of size. don’t think i haven’t noticed.”

you felt equal parts amused and touched as he grabbed the laundry basket and made good on his first “i’ll do it.” kuroo knew you well enough to know that you’d recognise this wasn’t just about chores. he knew you knew that was his way of showing you he saw all the little things—your frustration at the overflowing trash, or your quiet sigh when you couldn’t find your favourite tea.

by the time he had reached the third task which happened to be untangling the mess of cords behind the tv—you were leaning against the doorway, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“you know,” you began quietly, “you could’ve just gotten me something easy… like socks.”

“i know i said socks were day four material, but they don’t say ‘i love you,’” he didn’t look up as he wrestled with a particularly stubborn cord. “this does.”

and somehow, amidst the clatter of pots being reorganized and the triumphant “got it!” when he finally untangled the cords—you felt a quiet, glowing gratitude. love wasn’t always grand gestures or elaborate gifts. sometimes it was just someone rolling up their sleeves and saying, “i’ll do it.”

on the twelfth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—ten handwritten love letters, a diamond ring, and a promise of an eternity together. you were both walking home from a dinner out, the snow nipping at your nose in the late night. kuroo had insisted you both went for a stroll around your local park before returning home. as you both sat on a bench under a lamppost to take in the coldness of night, he handed you an envelope so unassuming that for a brief moment, you thought he might’ve brought you a pack of gum. the paper was a little wrinkled, and the whole thing seemed as if it had been wrapped in a rush. yet like all his other gifts, it was unmistakably kuroo—disorderly in execution and precise in intention.

he stood up and rocking on his heels, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets nervously. “open it.”

you cocked your head at him, confused and caught off guard by his sudden change in behaviour. “you’re really leaning into this whole romantic streak, huh?”

“leaning into it?” pitch rising as he parroted, mock offended. “i practically invented romance.”

“pfft—” you snorted, “—and humility, clearly.”

and then he was back as quickly as he was gone, grinning sharp and bright. though there was something else beneath it—a quiet flicker of nerves, but it was small enough for you to dismiss it. it was strange the way he wasn’t rushing you or teasing like he usually did. but you tugged the envelope open all the same, your hands suddenly clammy as you unfolded the paper and lifted the top open.

inside nestled neatly were folded sheets of paper. you could tell that one was numbered, the familiar slope of his handwriting filling the margins in messy loops. you tilted your head.

“love letters,” he replied, as if reading your thoughts.

“love letters?” you repeated it like it was a foreign concept.

there it was, that familiar feeling of your chest tightening as you pulled out the first letter. the paper felt heavier than it should have—like it was carrying the weight of something unspoken. you unfolded it carefully, your eyes scanning the page.

the first letter was a story written in his usual casual, boyish tone. it recounted the first time he realised he was in love with you. not in some grand, sweeping moment but in the tranquil stillness of a rainy afternoon 4 years ago when you’d fallen asleep on his grandma’s couch, clutching a bowl of popcorn like it was a lifeline.

the second letter was an apology for the moments he’d been too stubborn or too sharp-tongued—for every time he made you feel anything less than adored.

the third unraveled you entirely.

“if I could give you my eyes for a day, you’d see the world exactly as it is. beautiful, messy—and always better when you’re in it.”

you swallowed hard and set the letter aside. each one felt like a little piece of him, stitched together in ways he rarely allowed himself to be seen. by the time you reached the ninth letter, you were dizzy from it all, vision blurry and nose running.

the ninth letter was the shortest, just two words in his handwriting, “almost there.”

the tenth letter you found written inside the envelope, barely visible unless you were looking for it. it read:

“you’ve always had this way of holding the universe together without even realizing it. let me hold something for you in return.”

you hesitated upon finishing, fingers brushing the edge of the paper and heart thundering in your chest. looking up, you were confused when kuroo was not standing in front of you. it was then that you felt it, the feeling of knowing something impossibly sweet and devastatingly clever was present.

so you turned around, the paper slipping from your hands.

kuroo kneeled there, uncharacteristically still. between his two calloused fingers was an open box, and inside a delicate ring. the usual grin he had was gone now, replaced by something softer and steadier.

“i didn’t write this one,” he confessed quietly, looking away embarrassed. “because i wanted to say it out loud.”

he whispered your name, soft and certain like it was a promise in itself.

and just like that, the world shifted, tilting slightly off its axis as it stopped spinning.

all reblogs and likes appreciated!

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popcornforone · 1 month ago

Text

Little Red Bows

A Dave York Fan Fic

Merry Christmas everyone

Time for some festivities from our favourite stabby murder daddy, David Christopher York. Oooh & it’s rather delicious. Sorry shouldn’t hype it up but I’ve enjoyed writing & editing this one. Daves still number 1 for me.

Synopsis:- Dave admires your special wrapping skills so much so that he can’t wait to open his own Christmas gift.

Word Count:-3100

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! DAVE YORK COMES WITH HIS OWN WARNING! Sex, lost of sex, including oral & anal, good play, innuendo, alcohol, swearing, chocking, teasing. Basically if you’ve read any of my Dave fics before you know what’s coming. Also the use of the word Daddy (I know it’s a trigger for some of you). The reader is Daves wife & the kids mum but you are not Carol (unless you want to be)

Thank yous lol so much for reading. Have an amazing festive period.

“Night night molly” he said as he kissed her head. Slowly leaving her bedroom, making sure the night light is glowing purple stars for her. He Silently closes the door. Not even a click. Being an assassin he’s good at that. Can get in & out without a sound. She’s fast asleep not even knowing she’s nodded off. Alice fell asleep much earlier.

Dave makes his way back down stairs & into the kitchen getting some ice from the freezer for his whiskey. As the top come off the bottle her hears you humming. You’re sat on the floor of the little snug area just down from the kitchen, headphones in, crafting away. Dave looks up to see you looking all cute eating a chocolate oranage wrapping up gifts. He gets another glass & pours you a whisky too before he slowly comes to join you. Even with your headphones on you can work out where he’s coming from. You take out the left ear pod & smirk.

“Both asleep?”

“Snug as a bug baby” he says as he leans down & hands you your glass. He goes to move but you grab his shirt. “Forget something did i?” He asks.

“You know it” your eyes widen & soon your lips meet deeply. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve kissed Dave it still feels so good. He’s always desperate for your touch & you are just desperate to be seen by him. He slips his tongue in for a few hungry seconds before pulling back & sighing. He sits on the sofa behind you putting his drink on the table & looks at the scene in front of him.

“How many more gifts to go” he says. In front of you are gift tags, stars, snowflakes, tape ribbons, bows, brown paper, wrapping paper, glitter paper, & lots of different colour pens.

“Tonight & tomorrow morning & we should be done except for whatever you’ve got me Dave but I can’t exactly wrap that up” you say. He rubs your shoulders.

“You do such a good job baby”

“I mean you said I didn’t have to go all out but it’s nice, I get some me time, I get to craft & create & it’s fun”

“Yes & then they get the gift & take off all the hard work you have done”

“You gonna have to open your gifts so slowly now on Christmas Day Dave” you point a gel pen at him as you write the next label.

“True but just look at this…” he hold up a ribbon you’ve curled with tape & attached to a bow. “… I mean yes I have a specific set of skills but this is beautiful.” You laugh “no seriously, these little bows, those ribbon curls, the personalised gift tags, it’s astonishing”

“It’s really not that hard Dave” you smile but are also secretly so proud. It takes a lot to impress Dave & he’s heaping praise on you. Or maybe he just wants his dick sucked. Or both. Probably both. “I could teach you” his hands roam over your shoulders. Yea he wants his dick sucked.

“Really,” he rests his head on your shoulder. “Show me baby.” He kisses your neck & you let out a tiny moan & sigh. You get out the ribbon & the scissors & show him how to curl it. Not that he’s looking at it & not that you care. He’s looking at the at the way your lips move as you speak, how your eyes light up with passion, how that mole on your chin is the most perfect beauty mark that people would pay thousands for & yet you’ve had it since birth.

“& then you cut their throat” you say bluntly. Dave shake his head in shock.

“WHAT!?” You giggle.

“I knew you weren’t listening Dave”

“Did you now” he grabs the scissors out of your hand. “You know I could kill you in 13 different ways with these scissors”

“But you’d never be able to make a pretty bow” you smirk as he pulls you into his lap. He’s hard, he’s very hard. You gulp down a few swigs of your whisky. You place your glass next to his as his hands roam your body.

“I think I’d have other pressing issues instead of bows & glitter” he says. His hands on the outside of your trousers rubbing the material so that it rubs against your clit.

“Dave stop” you moan but enjoying every second.”or at least promise you’ll help me tidy up a little for in the morning after this.”your own hand goes on auto pilot undoing his belt after you turned to face him. The zipper sound louder than the music in your remaining ear pod.

“You got it baby” he sits back on the sofa & man scapes. he’s got thick thighs but an even thicker dick that he just flops out of his boxers as you tie your hair up & gulp some of his whiskey down.”hey that’s…” but your lips meet his to shut him up. Passionate doesn’t cover the ferocity of the kiss.

“Yours baby, just like me Dave, I’m all yours” you trails your hands down his body eventually get to his penis. Leaking precum, erect & ready for pleasure. “Hello big boy” you moan before licking across the top of it, before looking up at Dave & spitting on his shaft. He loves it when you do that. He always tense up when you do it.

“So good to me sweetheart” his hand runs around a your face & he smirk & nods. He watches down as you engulf him. Bobbing. Taking him into your mouth, slowly. Gagging for his enjoyment. “That’s my girl” he thrusts into you & he grabs where you’ve tied your hair up. “You look all sweet but damn you love getting a facial” he keeps your head in place watching your eyes stream as he fucks your mouth. “God I love it when you gag, so fucking hot” he whines. You can see when you look into his eyes, he loves eye contact, he’s intense at everything, that he’s already approaching his peak. His eyes so dilated. The hand not holding your head gripping to the arm of the sofa for dear life. “Fuck sweetheart, fuck fuck fuck I… oooh fuck” hot ropes of cum spill down your throat & your mouth. He quickly lets go of your head & pulls his cock back. Splatters land on your face.”oooh fuck baby” he finishes to make sure your face glistens. He then looks at you, hands in your lap looking up at him pleadingly to mop up your face. He’s still breathless as he looks at you, trying to calm down.

“Dave”

“Hmmm” he then smile coming back to reality. “Kiss first then clean up & then I’ll look after you”

Christmas Eve has now rolled around. You spent the day with the girls baking cakes, cookies & getting some prep done for tomorrow’s Christmas dinner. Dave went & delivered a few gifts & apparently went to get your Christmas present, but you’ve worked it out already. He’s good at secrets on a life & death situation but not when it comes to the surprise 10 day trip to Jamaica he has for you. Also you notice he asked for your passport & a few other travel items. You just don’t know when he’s booked it for.

After Dinner you Dave & the girls sit on the sofa & watch the muppet Christmas Carol as a family, the girls have hot chocolate & marshmallows in them & a big bowl of popcorn. You have an espresso martini & Dave as always has a whiskey. You sit there & laugh & cry & sing along to the film. This is all you really want for Christmas. Gifts & food & excess is nice but just to have a little time where the 4 of you can just be you. For a brief moment in time your just the Yorks. No worrying about if Dave will walk back through the door after a mission, or if you or the girls will be used as bait. It’s just you sitting here doing what all other normal families do this evening. Once the muppets are done you give the girls each their stockings to hang on the fire place. You would usually light the fire but tonight you didn’t.

“We don’t want it to be too hot for Santa when he comes down it do we” you say to the girls.

“Oooh no” says Alice. “His beard might melt off” you & Dave both laugh.

“So when you wake up in the morning girls your stockings will be filled, with all of little Santa gift.” He says as he ties them up. “Now what do you want to leave out for Santa to drink.”

“Milk” says Molly. Dave sighs.

“But everyone will give Santa milk, maybe he’d like something else”

“Chocolate milk” you laugh at that reply Dave trying not to roll his eyes.

“It’s still milk though, why don’t we leave Santa some alcohol” he says “give him a needed boost cos all the milk he will have drank will make him sleepy”

“That’s not what the books say” says Molly. Dave has tried so hard to convince them but neither girls are buying into it.

“I tell you what girls” you say. “Why don’t we leave an empty glass for Santa with a bottle of whiskey next to it & a carton of milk when me & daddy go to bed” Dave raises his eyebrow, not at your suggestion but at the word daddy. He likes it when you moan it just before you cum. “& he can pick what he wants to drink. That way next year you will know what he likes so you can leave the right one out”

“But what if he wants both” even you sigh.

“Well he can have both” you say & the girls run off to the kitchen to get the milk & cookies & carrots they sorted out earlier. You look at Dave as he puts the whiskey down & an empty glass. “I tried baby”

“That’s not what you did” he pauses then wink “daddy appreciates it”

With the girls supposedly asleep you & Dave do some sorting out for tomorrow. The table is laid, the gifts are under the tree & everything is prepped to make Christmas lunch easy. All that’s left to do is for Dave to do his Santa bit & fill up the stocking.

“I’ll go get ready for bed Dave” you say before he heads off to the shed to get the Santa gifts. Easier place for you to both hide all the gifts. The girls will never think in there. As Dave heads to get them you quickly head into the lounge to hide something for him to enjoy.

Dave loves doing this. He’s a serious professional man until it comes to a little bit of festive fun. Leaving some fake shoe marks in the hall way. Eating a cookie. Snapping off parts of the carrots, including dropping an end next to the fire place. He then pours himself a shot of whiskey & downs it, but as he goes to put the drink back down he notices something that the girls didn’t put down. A little red bow. One you had made. He lifts it up with a smile & sees there’s a post it underneath. Your beautiful hand writing make him smile.

Come unwrap your present daddy!

He has never triple checked the house is locked so quickly in his life, he almost forgot to turn the kitchen light off. He’s also trying to be quiet so the girls don’t wake up & the Christmas magic is lost. But it’s not long before he is opening the bedroom door. His jaw hitting the floor instantly.

You are lying face down. Hair in a braid going over your left shoulder. Wearing nothing. A sparkling red bow & some mistletoe stuck on top of your bum. There’s a gift tag tied to your foot. Dave drops to his knees. His mouth instantly sucking the toes on the foot with the gift tag. You moan & then you hear him breathily read out loud, once he has stopped sucking.

“Your gift needs a good stuffing Daddy” he says in his bedroom voice. “Oooh sweetheart fuck sweetheart” you’ve not turned your head but you can hear the clothes hit the floor. “Gonna fuck you so hard you will struggle to stand up to cook Christmas dinner” he snarls.

“Is that a promise Dave” you then hiss as he spanks you hard & your bum lifts up. You then moan as his lips connect. Pulling your cheeks apart & lapping always at both your holes. “Fuck Dave” you can feeling your inner pleasure building up already. His hand moves the bow & mistletoe off you & you then feel his penis drag through the mess he has just made. Your arsehole puckering for him.

“I get the best for Christmas” he says before thrusting his penis into your arse. All the way. Deep enough that his balls bounce against you. “Fuck” he growls & you bury your head into the bed as you moan. “So fucking tight. all your holes”

“They are all yours tonight Dave”

“Seriously?” He’d paused his next thrust upon hearing that. His hands gripping your flesh as you are now on all fours pushing back into him.

“They always are but as a Christmas treat you can go all night for as long as you want”

“You little cum slut” he says & smacks your arse again. You rock back & forth in time. You will have marks on your torso tomorrow from him gripping so hard. He’s thrusting away like he will never have sex again or like he has just gotten out of a mission that could have meant his end & he’s happy to be home to you. “Taking me so well” you put a hand on your clit but Dave smacks your arse hard.

“Fuck”

“No clit touching until I can see it. Want to see how over stimulated you get” he says.

“Then flip me over”

Dave doesn’t need an excuse. He quickly withdraws & turns you so your face up & he laughs.

“The fuck”

You have put a little bow over each nipple & one just above your sex. You giggle impishly back as you suck on a small strawberry candy cane you have.

“Liking your gift so far daddy”

“You’re driving me insane.” The bows are pulled off your skin & he plunges his sopping penis deep inside your moist cunt. Your moaning in seconds, especially when he grips you around the neck. “You’re a naughty girl” he moans. Sloppy thrusting noises filling the room when the two of you aren’t experiencing pleasure.”naughty & nice, nice sopping pussy, naughty girl for touching her clit”

“Fuck Dave” you groan.he squeezing your neck more. His eyes alight with desire & list. You quiver taking him all. Clamping constantly around him. He’s big but tonight he feels bigger.

“gonna fill you up sweetheart, gonna lap up all our cum.” He says before he takes the hand that was around your neck. You gasp for air gives him enough time to take the candy cane you were sucking & for him to suck it as well. Then he strokes the sticky sweet over your clit, rubbing it furiously. Your own eyes close. Pleasure taking over.

“Yes Dave yes yes yes, fuck”

“Like that sweetheart” he says before he slips the Candy cane into your mouth again. You make sloppy noises on purpose to get him to thrust faster. It’s rapid his pace, neither of you are going to last much longer. Dave is giving you his best.”like being so needy for daddy”

“Yes daddy, fuck yes yes yesss”

“CUM FOR DADDY!” He says loud enough that it could wake up the girls. Neither of you care.

“Fuckkkkkk” you spiral down your first orgasm of the night. Everything contracting. Pleasure beyond compare. A warm & wet sensation that’s added to with a snarl of your name as Daves seed spill inside your cunt.

“Fuck” he says with a jolt. His eyes rolling in the back of his head. His body dripping in sweat. His pecks flexing from the spasms of his release. He’s still griping you tight. Panting loudly. You eventually open your eyes to look at your glorious husband, bathed in your own sweaty sticky mess.

“Still just as fucking fabulous” you say as you sit up once he’s pulled his cock out of you & sit next to him, caressing his face before your tongues do their usual make out dance after sex. His saltiness after sex always tastes good & arouses you further.

“I ain’t done yet sweetheart” you then gasp as the hand that what caressing your breasts finds your sex, the thumb on your clit, two fingers inside you. “I need to clean you up first” . His head is between your thighs in seconds as you hold it in place rubbing it for ever more friction as he eats you out.

“Oooh fuck Daddy, Dave yes”

You sit in the lounge as the girls open their stockings on Christmas morning. Dave rubbing your shoulders as you watch the girls open Santas gifts. You both desperately need a shower, certain you both smell of sex.

“Dad” Molly ask “what time did Santa get here last night”

“Well it’s after everyone’s asleep including me & mummy why”

“Well” Molly starts “I head something that sounded like it was hitting my wall at 3am, I went down stairs & saw the gifts where there already, but couldn’t see a raindeer outside”

You blush straight away. Molly had heard you & Dave fucking last night. Dave realised this & then looks at you & puts his hand on you knee.

“Could have been, he’s magic so it could have been his quick get away” Molly seems to bye this. Alice hasn’t been listening she’s too busy trying to solve her rubix cube already. Dave move his hand up to your thigh. “Turns out we did bring the Ho ho ho” he says quietly with a wink & a smirk, before kissing you deeply.

“Dad Mum stop” says Alice.

“Sorry darling” you say. “But Christmas brings out the magic in all of us” you say looking directly at Dave. “Christmas after all is a time for giving & receiving”

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mountsmase · 2 months ago

Text

Christmas Markets

a/n: This one’s a little shorter than the first but I still hope you all enjoy it 🫶🏻 This was also scheduled so fingers crossed it posted on time

———————

Visiting a Christmas market with Mason is something I think about every year, walking around together with hot chocolates

whilst taking the time to look at all the various stalls and pop up shops, stopping every now and then to buy something or grab a bite to eat…

Maybe he even surprises you with it, like he knows you’ve wanted to go to one for ages since you didn’t get a chance to last year so he picks an evening that you’re both free and sets aside the time to take you

He gets home from training a couple of hours before you’re due to finish work and gets started on some house work that he knows you were planning on doing tonight, not wanting you to worry about still needing to do the chores when you get home and he’s waiting in the living room when you walk through the front door.

He doesn’t do anything extravagant to tell you where you’re going, instead just greeting you with a kiss and requesting that you go and get changed into some warm clothes. You do so without question, assuming that maybe you’re just taking Ace out for a walk like you do most evenings anyway, but then you get in the car, without Ace, and suddenly you’re not so sure.

You’re even more confused when he parks close to the city centre but the excitement takes over as soon as you turn the corner and realise where you’re going.

Going later in the evening as meant that the atmosphere is perfect. Twinkling lights cast a glow over the pathways and stools, the smell of cinnamon and mulled wine spills from the food stands and the crowds are a little quieter with it being later in the day, making it the perfect time to explore.

You walk hand in hand, stopping every couple of metres to look at the different products that the stalls are selling and you can’t help but pick up some dinner from one of the food ones, finding a bench to sit and have some food before getting some churros and a hot chocolate each to eat on the walk around the rest of the market.

We know Mason probably buys loads of little gifts and presents for his nieces and nephew, especially in the build up to Christmas, so when you pass a stand making personalised baubles he of course has to stop and get some made for them. He makes one for each of them, printing their names onto ones that match their different personalities, planning to send them over to Australia for Stacey’s kids and keep the others so that the girls can add them to the tree when they come up to visit for Christmas. You also get one personalised for the two of you to add to your tree in celebration of your first Christmas living together. The tree only went up a couple of days ago, but you’ve already brought multiple new decorations to add with it, and this one will definitely get its space front and centre.

You do a little more Christmas shopping, some jewellery for his mum and sister as well as a few other random pieces that you know people will like and it makes you so excited to get everything wrapped up ready to open with everyone on Christmas morning.

Maybe you even stop at a few stands that have games like ‘hook a duck’ set up, and Mason encourages you to keep going until you win a prize, happily paying for all your goes as well as his own until he finally wins you the giant teddy bear that you had you eye on. You feel a bit ridiculous as a grown adult going home with a giant teddy bear, but you love that you can take it home and keep it as a reminder of the night.

You even have a go on the ice skating rink, seeing if you’re still good from when you skated as a child, but you end up clinging the wall the whole session. Both of you are in fits of laughter as you struggle to even stay up right, only getting away from the wall during the last 5 minuets but it’s the thought that counts right?

You’d probably end up staying until the market closes with how much there is to see and do, neither of you checking your phones or allowing other distractions, just enjoying the quality time together before everyone comes up to Manchester to spend the Christmas period with you. It’s just the loveliest evening and one you’ll remember forever.

On the way home you might end up getting a cheeky McDonald’s if you’re still hungry (and you’re always craving chicken nuggets) and then you unpack all of the things you brought, adding your new bauble to the Christmas tree before running through your night time routines and heading to bed, cuddled up and content after a special evening.

———————

Day 4 Concept tomorrow 🎄

#mason mount #Mason concepts #12 Days of Concepts #Mason Mount imagine

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polo-drone-070 · 1 month ago

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The Bonds We Build

The year’s end was drawing near, and Maximus found himself in his room, preparing greeting cards.

It had been three months since he joined Gold, but it already felt like a fundamental part of his life. So many good memories, so many connections forged. Each moment with his team had shaped him, deepened his sense of purpose and belonging.

He sat at his desk, carefully arranging the cards. Each one carried a personal touch, a memory shared with a brother.

Maximus glanced at the roster, his gaze lingering on the first line: 001, Percival/Ezan (@polo-drone-001), his master and so much more. For him, Maximus included a photo of himself serving coffee, a subtle nod to their bond. With some bros, there were so many moments shared he had to just evoke one memory…like with Herc (@goldenherc9), for whom he recalled Stigandr demonstrating his twin berserk spirit Bödvar the power of discipline.

For Ares (@goldengod-ares10), his thoughts turned to a rough session with Neil, arousal peaking. A late-night discussion right after becoming 070 stood out for Brody (@brodygold).

He kept working down the list, each name evoking vivid memories. For Daniel(@danielgold-16) a simple note evoking a missing hand. Exchanging hypno file tips with Mark (@markgold-18). And for Hades (@hades-gold19), the warm memory of him being the first to welcome him to the Team when he was still Henry.

Further down, Max (@little-pup-max) reminded him of a needed video tutorial, while Leon’s (@leon-gold) hot pic brought a brief but undeniable blush to his face. He noted a discussion about AI with Elliot (@polo-drone-038), the motivational energy from Xavier’s (@polo-drone-039) playlists, and an invitation from Loki (@jordan-gold-40) that left a lasting impression.

Grant’s (@grant-gold43) military buzzcut reminded him of planned RP with him, while for 108 (@heavyrubberboy97), a rubber picture seemed the perfect tribute. A joint programming session for 149 (@polo-drone-149) came to mind, followed by the thrill of 049 (@polo-drone-049) bringing a recruit, and the memory of converting 050 (@polo-drone-050) on Discord.

Chill moments in vocal chats with Trevor (@polo-drone-125) surfaced, along with a pang of regret for not making more of Ganymede’s (@michaelgold53) perfect physique. For Trey (@hero21us), he mentioned the Gold influence, while a cheerleader costume tryout stood out for Riley (@rileygold60), and the installation of a hypnotic trigger for his mentee Duncan (@polo-drone-061) brought a small, satisfied smile.

To Chevy (@chevy-gold), he offered gratitude for helping him through a restless night. A transformation by Cratos for Hunter (@polo-rone-066). Brief but heartfelt words followed for others: “drone rabbit hole” for Hans (@hansgold-69), “gold soak” for Phoenix (@polo-drone-071), and “drone pride” for 073 (@polo-drone-073), who had been such a willing guinea pig.

He fondly remember a perfectly timed pho with Camden (076) (@polo-drone-076), as well as some drunken messages. A personalised spiral memory for Benji (@edmundgold78), a meta-reflection on the Hive with 110 (@polo-drone-110), and a golden bed picture for Grayden (@polo-drone-084). A wrestling match with Leander (@leander-gold-88) a photo of 070 as a drone pup for 098 (@polo-drone-098), a forest encounter with Coach (@thecorruptisland), and a Paris meeting with 103 (@polo-drone-103) all found their way into his recollections.

For 105 (@polo-drone-105), smoky domination seemed fitting, while 151 (@polo-drone-151) brought memories of steady, reliable drone activity.

At last, he indulged in cravings for hot golden collars from Cletus (@cletusgold), deep massages from Denchik (@mrdenchik), and, finally, the evocation of straining in a cage for waterboy Laurent (@laurentgold06).

The cards were ready. Minor gifts, just simple tokens of appreciation, but they carried the essence of Maximus’ gratitude. Through these memories, he realized what he was truly giving to the team: his unwavering devotion. And in return, he was receiving something far greater—pleasure, belonging, and a place in something far bigger than himself. Luvin you all, bruhz ! Gold is da best.

#Golden Army #GoldenArmy #Golden Team #theGoldenteam #AI generated #jockification #male TF #male transformation #hypnotized #hypnotised #soccer tf #Gold #Join the golden team #Golden Opportunities #Golden Brotherhood

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celestibabs · 1 year ago

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pairing; billy hargrove x f!reader

contents; 18+ mdni. boudoir photography, heavy petting, dry humping if you squint | wc: 1k

note; starting off simple for my return to writing... nothing too long or too spicy, but we all know that won't last very long.

Billy snatches the cigarette from his mouth as if it scolded his taste buds, flipping the envelope you’d handed him in his hand with intrigue. His perfect blonde eyebrow raised in query, he raises his gaze at you pointedly.

“What is it?” He speaks flatly, exhaling the smoke in his lungs slowly so it kisses at his cheekbones.

“Just open it,” you murmur quietly, worrying your lower lip with your teeth. Billy hums softly, fussing with the lip of the envelope with his fingertips and teasing your nerves.

You’d tortured yourself over a Christmas gift for Billy, thinking of all possible options and how he’d be entirely unimpressed. Minus a new set of weights or a large tub of some kind of protein-shake powder, you knew he’d probably shove your gift in a cupboard and forget about it until he needed to take the Christmas lights out next year.

Desperation had kicked in around two weeks before Christmas day. Wandering in and out of the few shops in Hawkins like a demented zombie had resulted in empty hands and muttered curses of frustration. Unprompted comments by Billy insisting that he didn’t want any gifts had fueled your indignation, especially given his tone had somehow strayed into something pitiful in comparison to the monotonous, bored drawl he usually offered.

The idea came to you spontaneously. Nancy had called to tell you about a playful tiff she’d had with Jonathan over some Playboy magazine’s she’d found in his bedroom while moving her things in for Christmas. Her voice had practically faded into oblivion when you’d remembered the torn-out Playboy pages plastered to the wall above Billy’s dresser.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that Billy was pulling apart the ribbon you’d tied around the neatly wrapped gift, you’d begun to feel queasy.

Before tearing the wrapping paper, Billy prolongs your suffering with a smug smirk, clearly noticing your anticipation. He lifts the item, shaking it like a five year old rattling their present box as though it would offer insight into what lay inside. “Give me a hint.”

“Billy,” you huff, exasperated already with his antics, “Just open the stupid thing before I take it back.”

He hums, finally pinching the edge of the wrapping between his thumb and forefinger before pulling upwards, the paper ripping open to reveal the contents inside.

Billy paused, slowly exhaling the dregs of his cigarette in a gentle stream of smoke through his nose.

Your heart catches.

The glossy pages of the personalised Playboy Magazine rippled slightly as Billy brought the images closer for a better look. It was unmistakably you on the front cover, perched in a seductive position on a stool dressed in an unbuttoned blouse with peaks of the black, lacy lingerie you wore underneath.

Poor Jonathan had been mortified when you’d begged him to take the last minute images. Despite his reluctance, and Nancy observing his every move to ensure he didn’t stare too long, he’d worked hard to ensure he could emulate the magazine quality. Of course, you hadn’t told him who they were for.

You knew you looked fantastic, but Billy’s silence was unnerving you.

“There’s more inside,” you murmur, cheeks burning, “Some don’t have my face in them so you can tear them out and put them on your wall.”

Another slow exhale, Billy’s eyes flitting over the magazine cover had your heart lurching in fear. Was he angry? He still didn’t say much when he began to thumb through the pages, stopping on a particularly scandalous page where you swept aside the bounce to reveal the curve of your breast, lips parted seductively but the image excluding the rest of your face.

“Billy, I’m–”

“Look at you,” he murmurs, taking his cigarette from his lips and stubbing it into an ashtray settled on the arm of the sofa you’re both perched on. “You want me to pin photos of you half naked on my wall, for everyone to see?”

Billy reaches forwards, taking a hold of your chin in his palm and pulling you forwards so your noses bumped together. Your breath hitches, seizing in your throat when you feel Billy’s breath fan across your face.

“You little slut,” Billy coos, his free hand working its way between your knees to inch up the inside of your thigh. His touch leaves a delicious burn, like the smouldering embers of his cigarette end had set his fingertips alight.

Billy’s lips brush against your own as he speaks, his fingers ghosting over the seam of your trousers to apply slight, teasing pressure to your clit. “I’ll put them up on the wall opposite the door. Make sure everyone gets to see how much of a slut you are for me.”

You can see Billy’s cock straining against the right denim of his jeans. He’s all worked up at the idea of showing you off like this, and seems intent on dragging you down into a horny-haze too.

“If you’d like that,” you whisper, voice catching slightly in your throat as Billy leans his head down to drag the flat of his tongue across your pulse point. You hear him chuckle softly, feel the rumble against your neck, and you’re almost certain it’s because he can somehow taste your arousal through your skin.

“I’d love that,” he smirked, his hands slowly working their way beneath your shirt and pushing it upwards to expose the naked flesh of your stomach, squeezing at your breast when you arch your back for him.

“Merry Christmas, Billy,” you laugh at that, your giggle faltering into a soft whine when Billy punches at your nipple, rolling the stiffened bud between the pads of his thumb and forefinger to tease you further. “Mhmmm,” Billy hums, nipping at your neck and slowly laying you back against the couch. He doesn’t seem to mind that the ashtray that had balanced on the arm of the sofa tips off onto the floor, or that the magazine falls to the floor. He’s far too busy grinding his hard cock against you. “A very merry Christmas it is.”

#— not sfw !#billy hargrove concept #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine #divider made by /@saradika

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doodle-pops · 5 months ago

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「 ✦˖ ࣪ .♡˚.Princess Treatment˚.♡˖ ࣪ .✦ 」

Headcanon: Curufin, Amras, Turgon, Finafin, Aegnor, Galdor, Rog, Beleg

A/N: I know I had another set of headcanons to post, but those weren’t working out, so I decided to give a second part to the Princess Treatment headcanons I did last year for the same event with other characters.

.𑁍༊˚ Curufin

Curufin’s princess treatment manifests in his attentiveness to your needs, even before you realise them yourself. Whether it's draping his cloak over your shoulders before a chill can touch you or preparing your favorite tea after a long day, he anticipates your desires effortlessly.

As a master craftsman, Curufin creates intricate jewelry for you, each piece personalised and imbued with a story or meaning. His gifts are never random—they reflect moments shared between you two, aspects of your personality that he admires, or even a subtle statement that says “mine”.

When walking together, Curufin is always at your side, guiding you with a firm but gentle hand at the small of your back. He loves the feeling of being your protector and companion, and will silently ensure you’re always safe and comfortable.

If you show the slightest interest in something, whether it be a new skill or hobby, Curufin will subtly arrange for the best teachers or resources to be at your disposal. He takes immense pride in seeing you excel, your happiness fueling his own.

Curufin’s affection is shown through action rather than words, but in private moments, he’ll take your hand and press a kiss to each fingertip, murmuring how much he cherishes you.

.𑁍༊˚ Amras

He loves surprising you with impromptu picnics in secluded forest clearings, where he’s already laid out your favorite treats and brought along a cosy blanket for you both to share.

He’s always thinking of little ways to make your life easier or more enjoyable, whether it's braiding your hair for you in intricate designs or bringing you wildflowers that he tucks behind your ear with a grin.

During your outdoor adventures, Amras takes it upon himself to carry anything you might need, from your extra cloak to your favourite book. He insists that you just enjoy the journey while he handles the rest, finding joy in making sure you’re carefree.

Amras is also fond of crafting little trinkets for you, often made from materials he’s found during your travels together. You’ll receive necklaces of woven grass, rings made of polished stone, and other small tokens that remind you of your shared adventures.

He has a playful side and loves to whisk you away for secret rendezvous under the stars, where he’ll dance with you to the music of the night, his laughter and joy infectious as he spins you around.

.𑁍༊˚ Turgon

Turgon is the epitome of a chivalrous King when it comes to giving you the princess treatment. From the moment you enter a room, his attention is solely on you, making sure every detail of your surroundings is perfect for your comfort and pleasure.

He loves to plan elaborate dates, whether it’s a moonlit stroll through the gardens of Gondolin or a private concert by the city’s finest musicians. Turgon spares no expense in making you feel like royalty, both in private and in public.

You’ll never need to lift a finger in his presence. Turgon insists on serving you himself, whether it’s pouring your wine or cutting your food, all done with a gentle smile and a look that says you’re the most important person in his world.

When you’re feeling down, Turgon will wrap you in the softest blankets and read your favorite books aloud, his deep voice soothing and comforting. He has a talent for making even the most mundane moments feel special and intimate.

His favorite way to express his love is through grand gestures—like commissioning a beautiful mural in the city, depicting a scene of the two of you. He loves to show the world how much you mean to him, and nothing is too extravagant.

.𑁍༊˚ Finarfin

Finarfin treats you with a blend of elegance and heartfelt gestures. He delights in hosting intimate dinners for you, where he meticulously plans every detail—from the finest dishes to the perfect candlelight. He ensures each meal is a celebration of your time together.

He’s deeply attuned to your preferences and often surprises you with carefully chosen gifts, such as a rare book, a delicate piece of jewelry, or a beautiful fabric that you’ve admired. Each gift is accompanied by a personal note expressing his affection.

Finarfin enjoys creating serene moments for you both. Whether it’s arranging a private viewing of a stunning sunset or organizing a quiet afternoon in a secluded garden, he always finds ways to make these experiences feel special and memorable.

When you’re feeling stressed or overwhelmed, Finarfin will create a relaxing atmosphere, complete with soft music and aromatic oils. He’ll gently rub your shoulders or brush your hair, his touch soothing and attentive, ensuring you feel cherished and at ease.

He’s also fond of planning surprise getaways to picturesque locations. Whether it’s a cosy cabin by a lake or a charming village, he’ll organise everything with precision, ensuring you both enjoy a refreshing and delightful escape from everyday life.

.𑁍༊˚ Aegnor

He’s fiercely protective and will often accompany you on walks or errands, his presence a silent but powerful reassurance. If anyone dares to speak ill of you, they’ll quickly find themselves on the receiving end of his cold wrath.

One thing Aegnor never misses is an opportunity to reenact all the romantic scenes from plays with you. Whether it’s dancing under the stars or in the ballroom, whispering your name sweetly while holding eye contact, or even chasing you through a field of flowers.

Aegnor enjoys sharing you with the world and letting everyone know that you’re his and he’s yours, so expect commissions of pieces of jewellery that showcase his love for you. A promise ring, a locket with his favourite words engraved, a bracelet with the two as the pendant, and dozens of love letters.

He’s a lover for public displays of affection. He’ll hold you close, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks, lips, hands, every oart of your body he could kiss and whisper cheesy words. His touch reverent and tender as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

Flowers upon every meeting and an arm out for you to cross puddles. Holding doors open, pulling out your chair, fixing your hair and clothes, wiping your lips after you’ve eaten and so many more. You can bet the romantic puppy would be down for doing all that and more.

.𑁍༊˚ Rog

Rog’s princess treatment is all about making sure you feel secure and adored. As a formidable warrior, he’s always looking out for your safety, and you can count on him to be at your side, whether you’re walking through the bustling streets of Gondolin or relaxing at home.

He loves to carry you, especially when you least expect it. Whether it’s sweeping you off your feet to avoid a puddle or lifting you onto his shoulders for a better view, if it makes you happy, it makes him happy. Not to forget, he makes time to also be your teddy bear.

Rog is also a craftsman, and he often creates beautiful, practical items for you. Whether it’s a sturdy pair of boots tailored to your feet or a custom weapon if you’re inclined towards combat, everything he makes is infused with his care and attention to detail.

Despite his warrior’s exterior, Rog has a gentle heart. He’ll often gather flowers for you during his travels and present them with a shy smile, brushing a tender kiss against your knuckles as he does so.

Rog is very tactile in his affection, always finding reasons to touch you—whether it’s holding your hand, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, or wrapping an arm around your waist. He thrives on these small connections, each one a silent declaration of his love.

.𑁍༊˚ Galdor

Galdor’s treatment revolves around pampering you in the most thoughtful ways. He’ll often draw you luxurious baths filled with fragrant herbs and flower petals, making sure everything is perfect before leaving you to relax in solitude.

He has a knack for finding the perfect gifts—whether it’s a book you’ve been wanting, a rare plant, or a piece of art that reminds him of you. Each gift is accompanied by a sweet note, handwritten and filled with his deepest affections.

Galdor enjoys taking you on serene walks through beautiful gardens, where he’ll pick the most exquisite flowers to weave into your hair. He takes great care in making sure you feel adored and beautiful, often complimenting you in the softest of tones.

He’s very attentive to your comfort, often adjusting pillows or bringing you extra blankets without you even needing to ask. If you’re working or reading, Galdor will quietly bring you snacks or a cup of tea, ensuring you have everything you need to stay relaxed and content.

In quieter moments, Galdor loves to play music for you, whether on a harp or flute. He’ll serenade you with soft melodies that soothe your soul, his music a tender expression of his love and devotion.

.𑁍༊˚ Beleg

Being rooted in nature and simplicity, he loves to take you on long walks through the woods, where he’ll point out different plants and animals, making sure you feel connected to the world around you while also feeling special in his presence.

He’s always crafting small gifts for you out of natural materials, like a crown of leaves or a bracelet made from braided vines. Each item is created with care and presented to you with a warm smile, his way of showing how much he cherishes your bond.

Beleg is a skilled archer, and he’ll often set up friendly competitions where the prize is always a sweet kiss or a ton of sweet kisses. He loves seeing your eyes light up with excitement, and his laughter is the most rewarding sound when you best him in a challenge.

He enjoys setting up intimate campfires where you can both sit close, sharing stories and toasting beer or wine under the stars. Beleg will wrap you in his cloak, not because you need protection, but because he wants you to feel his warmth and presence.

When it’s just the two of you, Beleg will take the time to braid your hair, his fingers working with gentle precision. He finds peace in these quiet moments, and it’s his way of showing you how much he treasures every second spent together.

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @aconstructofamind @involuntaryspasms @ladyenchanted @mcwentfandomtraveling @stormchaser819 @addaigio @lamemaster @elficially-done-with-life @eunoiaastralwings @hermaeuswhora

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whatever-imagines · 5 months ago

Note

Can you we please get more Butch Wolverine?! Please?

Merry Christmas.

Literally

Rated: G

——

Logan scratch the back of her neck uncomfortably while staring at the party goers. There were too many sounds, too many smells, too much… everything happening all at once. She craved the solitude of her room; the distraction of you came to mind, maybe she could convince you to ditch the Christmas party all together and hide away from everyone.

Logan’s keen eyes seek you out and find you in the crowd. You’re dressed nice, cute; carrying a bag of presents as you distribute gifts to your friends and teammates. You looked so happy and thrilled to make everyone else happy and thrilled.

On second thought, maybe Logan should just pull a lone wolf card and leave by herself. You seemed to be enjoying yourself too much to have her pull you away for selfish reasons.

As she turns away though, she hears you call her name, hears you wrangling through the crowd, and Logan is equal parts thrilled and worried. What if you try and make her stay? Or worse, join in on the festivities.

“Lo! Logan, wait a sec, I have something for you!”

The Wolverine groans lowly. It wasn’t that she was hard to shop for, it’s just that people misinterpret what she wants, and then she feels bad about not wanting the useless crap given to her.

“Listen princess-“ she starts to protest, starts to stop you, but she couldn’t get a third word out before you toss a very small package at her.

Logan catches it mid air, effortlessly. The wrapping was buffalo plaid, no bows or tinsel or extra dress. With a questioning eyebrow, Logan gives you a look.

You stare at her all starry eyed and excited. “Well? Open it! It’s your present!”

The wolverine shift her step. “I’m not big on gifts-“

“Open it, Logan.” You demand.

The firmness of your voice makes her relent. It’s a rare occasion to see you stand up to her about anything.

With deft fingers, the wrapping was removed, unceremoniously dropped to the floor, and once the small black box was revealed, Logan worries the worst, jewellery.

Sucking in a silent anxious breath, she opens the box.

“A leather keychain?” Logan questions, also taking not of a silver knob looking thing attached to the ring.

“Open the leather bit, it’s a cigar cutter!” You exuberantly explain.

Logan pauses as you continue to ramble. “You always use your claws and I know sometimes you’re in a place you just can’t pop them out, so I got you this nice one instead! And that little silver one is a cigar puncher, you can unscrew it to use it.” You go into detail, moving closer to show off the present you thoughtfully gathered for your companion. “There in this keychain so you can add it to your carabiner. Merry Christmas!”

Logan stares at you intensely. This was… honestly the perfect gift for her. True, she uses her claws mostly to cut her cigars on the road, and if that wasn’t an option, her trusty pocket knife was always there, even if it did a shitty job. This was well thought out and personalised to her specifically. You even got a puncher, another form of to open up certain kinds of cigars. And in a fashion she could carry it with her constantly.

A little reminder of you and your thoughtfulness.

Logan purses her lips together to think carefully about what she’ll say next, all the while you stand there, pretty and perfect, waiting for her to respond.

“Thank you.” She settles on. No jokes, no smart Alec comment. You deserved sincerity at this moment. “I didn’t get you… anything-“

“Well, do you like your gift?” You ask.

She did, Logan really did. She loved it, she loved how the leather smelt like the sweat from your palms, you must’ve messed with it greatly before giving it to her.

“Yes, but-“

“Then that’s the best present you could’ve gotten me!” you chirp, delighted.

Logan wants to respond smoothly, wants to give a compliment suave enough it makes up for not having anything physical to give you, but you’re called away by a smiling and laughing Jean.

Before you leave, you rush Logan for a quick hug, which she reciprocates. The scent of you fills her and makes her almost giddy.

‘Merry Christmas, indeed.’ She thinks idly, looking for mistletoe hanging around and planning on pulling you under it.

#butch lesbian #butch wolverine #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #x reader

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pvffinsdaisies · 2 months ago

Text

The Nordics and their gift-giving style

DENMARK: I feel like Denmark really WANTS to be good at gift giving, every year he tells himself this year his gift is going to be the best one. But he’s not sure what the “best gift” looks like per each individual person. On top of that, he often looses track of time and winds up struggling to find a present 2-3 days before the person’s birthday/christmas. so his gifts are often sub-par at best. Unless Norway steps in and buys the present for him, which has happened more times than it should.

NORWAY: the country that once tried to give Finland a mountain?? And sends multiple Christmas trees to numerous different cities every year?? I don’t think Norway knows how to do small presents! Gift-giving is one of his love languages, and he always goes big. Somehow knows the perfect for everyone, exactly what they need. It’s usually handmade and personalised too. Easily the best gift-giver out of the Nordics.

ICELAND: if anyone feels the pressures of Norway’s amazing gift giving skills, it’s Iceland. Their brother is amazing at gift giving, so surely they must be too? But it doesn’t come as naturally to Iceland, and their connections to many people don’t feel deep enough to truly know what the most amazing gift for them would be. Ice often ends up getting safe presents that you can’t really go wrong with, chocolates, biscuits, drink of choice. But it is always well meaning. And I think the Nordics at least all understand that.

FINLAND: Finny would be another really good gift giver. They’re such a people pleaser after all 😅 but I feel like rather than one massive gift, they tends to get a bunch of smaller, individual gifts. They seem like the type to see something in a shop and immediately be like “ooh, I have to get this for so-and-so” and tbf… they’re usually pretty accurate!! They are our Santa, after all 🤭🤭

SWEDEN: similar to Norway, a nice thoughtful preferably handmade item. But generally speaking far less big and far less personalised. Björn is a busy man, after all! He’ll never have the time to make a whole massive personalised dream item. But he can make you a nice, good quality scarf made with proper sheep’s wool.

#slay #Iceland and Finland have gender neutral pronouns for more reach #but tbf my finland uses they/she pronouns anyway #hetalia #hws nordics #hws denmark #hws norway #hws iceland #hws finland #hws sweden

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faebaex · 2 years ago

Note

Valentine's 500...

Student Name: Yuuna Shin

Gender: Female

Dorm: Ramshackle

Scenario: Grim "accidentally" burnt all of the chocolates she intended to give out. Heartbroken, she quickly salvageable enough to make one piece for each of the boys. Rather than the special pieces she worked hard on, saved all of her money for, these simple pieces aren't her ideal. Despite that, she wants to let them know they were thought of, no one left out.

- ✨️ Anon

Hot Chocolate

author note: i'm finally baaaack! it feels so good to finally write again, and for all the characters no less! it was fun to think of how each of them would react to receiving a chocolate, especially in this circumstance! I've never written for someone's OC before, so I hope I did your character justice, ✨️ Anon! I hope you like it! I think Yuuna did a great job with the chocolate, all things considered! ☆ ～('▽^人)

characters: all main dorm twst characters x F!Reader (can be read platonic or romantically, however you fancy)

“GRIM!!”

You had meticulously budgeted over the last couple of months to make sure you had enough money to buy ingredients. The cooking facilities in Ramshackle were certainly far from the best, but you had worked hard to perfect the recipe, and then worked harder still to make personalised chocolates for everyone. All of that hard work, dashed because of your rowdy roommate couldn’t keep his paws to himself.

“What’s the big deal?! I’m the only one you should be making chocolate for anyways.” Grim pouted, seemingly completely unrepentant of his actions as you fanned the residual smoke away with a towel, all the rickety windows opened wide in an attempt to air out the room so you could properly survey the damage. Your heart sank when you saw that more than three quarters of the chocolates had been charred black.

“These were for everyone, Grim, but now you’ve ruined everything!” You spat, your anger flaring as you approached the trays of chocolate, picking through the ruins to see if there was any that could be saved. Grim bristled defensively at your words, the cold shoulder he received from you as you busied yourself searching through the charred remains of his jealous outburst causing him to scuttle out of the kitchen in tantrum.

You sighed as you looked down at the plate of chocolates that you had managed to salvage. After a count, you realised that you had just enough chocolate… Grabbing the decorative pouches you had prepared for the chocolates, you quickly packed them in, one chocolate each, worried that Grim might come back to finish the job out of petty spite. With a heavy sigh and feeling very disheartened, you left Ramshackle to deliver the remains of your chocolate…

Heartslabyul

Riddle

He thinks you are here to visit Ace and Deuce but will blush when you deliver him the chocolate.

He’ll play it off that he’s angry at Grim for destroying your hard work if you tell him what happened.

It’ll be off with Grim’s head for sure.

Your chocolate for him is shaped like a rose.

He’s reluctant to eat it because it’s a gift from you but would eat it during one of his scheduled tea times (as long as it doesn’t break any rules)

He’ll tell you how good it tastes and encourage you to continue baking!

Ace

Ngl he would totally laugh at the melted chocolate then feel bad when he realises how upset you are about it.

(He will laugh even more if Deuce’s chocolate is more melted than his)

Eats it right then and there, no fanfare, just shoves it straight in his mouth.

Tells you it tastes good but that you could improve, but that’s just his way of trying to get you to make him more chocolates.

Your chocolate for him is shaped like his card soldier assignment.

He, ofc, did not notice and regrets that when he realises (because of Deuce) that the chocolates were themed.

Now he’ll definitely pester you to make him more.

Deuce

Treats the chocolate like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever received.

Literally almost beats up Ace when he laughs at how melted it is, honestly you have to calm him down and restore order before they both get collared by Riddle.

Your chocolate for him is also his card soldier assignment and unlike Ace, he notices right away and his cheeks got a little pink at the attention to detail.

He does not eat it. He can’t bring himself to, he likes it so much. In fact, he likes it so much that he carries it around in his pocket all the time like some lucky charm.

That, ofc, results in it getting crushed in his pocket eventually. Deuce is inconsolable when he realises, but then he eats it, albeit feeling a little glum at the loss.

Please make him more choco. If anyone in this forsaken college deserves more chocolate, its Deuce.

Cater

Magicams the whole experience.

No but fr, he’s surprised and touched that you thought of him, and that just makes him start to feel awkward, so he overcompensates with the Magicamming.

Your chocolate for him is a diamond.

Makes you take a selfie with him with the chocolate ofc.

He eats it, even though he doesn’t like sweet things.

Suggests that you and Trey do a collab and ofc that he’d Magicam the entire experience. It would go viral, after all!

Trey

He’s touched.

Definitely one of the more judgmental chocolate eaters, but he won’t say anything about the taste, especially if he knows what Grim did.

Definitely offers you future use of the Heartlabyul kitchen if you want to do any more baking in peace.

Offers his assistance too if you want to try baking anything out of your current experience level.

Your chocolate for him is a four-leaf clover.

He thinks that detail is particularly cute and jokes whether he should keep it and see if it brings him any luck.

He’s smarter than Deuce though so he will eat it and not actually carry it around with him.

Savanaclaw

Leona

Unimpressed that you are interrupting his nap.

Gripes that you should have bought him meat instead of chocolate.

That doesn’t mean he’s not going to accept it though, and he’s actually pretty smug about it.

He’ll definitely give you that infuriating little smug smile that he does.

Your chocolate for him is shaped like a lion.

(He’s mean so he’ll call you uncreative for that ;-; he doesn’t mean it though he’s just grumpy)

Will definitely think of some petty way to get back at Grim if he finds out that he is the reason that he only got one chocolate.

Jack

His tail is definitely going to wag. He’ll pretend that is totally not happening, and will deny it if you point it out.

Your chocolate for him is shaped like a cactus.

He tries his best to act cool and collected but in reality his heart is thumping and his cheeks have turned pink.

Will tell you that there was no need for you to have gone out of your way to make chocolate for him.

He’s grateful for it though, no one other than his kid sister has given him chocolate before.

The fact that its shaped like a little cactus makes him feel a little giddy too, a sign that you take an interest in his hobbies.

Ruggie

Not one for free handouts normally but… Wow that chocolate looks so pathetic that he’d be doing you the favour by taking it off your hands… Shishishi

Would feel bad about ribbing you over it if you told him what Grim did to the chocolates, also would internally agonise that if it wasn’t for that furball, he’d be getting more chocolate.

Your chocolate for him is shaped like a doughnut.

At the sight of it, he’s immediately throwing an arm over your shoulder with his signature grin.

“You know what doesn’t melt? Doughnuts.”

Shamelessly hinting you should make him some doughnuts next time.

Octavinelle

Azul

Instantly suspicious.

He doesn’t want to accept it, he’s convinced you’re working an angle. What do you want? What are you trying to achieve? Do you truly think he is some fool who would easily be tricked into a situation where he owes someone something?

Absolutely cannot handle the fact that you’re giving this to him out of the kindness of your heart. His cheeks grow hot and his hands clammy, his cool, collected business façade slipping as he dithers over how to accept this.

He ends up giving you a Mostro Lounge coupon because seven forbid you think he owes you now.

Your chocolate for him is shaped like an octopus.

Now his cheeks are hot for another reason. Are you mocking him? And it’s melted… Is this some sort of threat?

Will not admit out loud that he thinks that the little, slightly melted octopus is charming, in its own way.

Jade

Is shocked that you’d take the time to make him some chocolate, although you’d never notice it when he smiles at you with his usual ice-cold polite smile.

His thought process is similar to Azul in that he suspects you may be doing it to curry favour with him, but he’s less neurotic about it than Azul.

After all, he’s used to receiving presents from those who wish to get on his family’s good side.

Your chocolate for him is shaped like a mushroom.

When he sees it, his ice-cold front immediately melts and he becomes 100% certified baby girl.

Starts trying to guess what type of mushroom it is, doesn’t even care that it is partially melted because that just makes the guessing game so much more exciting!

He doesn’t eat it. How could he? Instead, he preserves it.

Your mushroom chocolate now has a special place in his mushroom paraphernalia collection.

Floyd

Prepare to be squeezed.

Absolutely ecstatic that you made him chocolate, not at all bothered that its just one.

Your chocolate for him is shaped like a shrimp.

Does his goofy little laugh when he sees the shape, his razor-sharp teeth on full display.

“Little shrimpy made me a shrimpy to eat? Ne, does that mean you want me to take a bite out of you?”

Savagely eats the chocolate right then and there whilst looking you in the eyes the entire time.

I hope you left delivering his chocolate until last because he’s going to be clinging onto you for a while.

Scarabia

Kalim

Wants to throw you a party because you gave him a chocolate.

Please stop him, Jamil is so tired.

He’s so happy! You made this yourself? That’s so cool, you’re so cool! Wants you to teach him how to do it too!

It’s fine, he’ll suggest you two can borrow the school kitchen, so Jamil doesn’t find out.

Your chocolate for him is shaped like a jewel.

He’s so amazed that you managed to make it into such a cool shape.

Don’t be surprised if a chocolate statue suddenly shows up at Ramshackle because Kalim commissioned it for you.

Jamil

Oh, you shouldn’t have.

No really, you shouldn’t. Now he feels uncomfortable. Why would you make chocolate for someone like him?

Secretly shy about it but maintains his aloof persona.

Your chocolate for him is shaped like a snake.

He really likes it, he feels like it matches the armlet for his dorm uniform.

Another one of the more judgmental ones when it comes to tasting the chocolate and unlike Trey, he will give you pointers on whether you could improve your recipe.

Not in a mean way but in a more “why don’t you try this next time…” kind of vibe.

Maybe, just maybe there was a little hint in there that you could try out improvements to your chocolate recipe together…

Pomefiore

Vil

Oof.

Now let’s be real, this guy receives a lot of gifts, and a lot of the time those gifts are chocolate. All the time. From absolutely everyone. Fans, other students, colleagues. The list is endless. The chocolates usually go untouched, he has an image to maintain you know.

He was visibly surprised to receive the chocolate from you, you don’t seem the type to gift him something.

But as it was just one chocolate, he decided it wouldn’t do any harm to eat it…

Your chocolate for him is shaped like a crown.

The MOST judgmental out of all the boys in regards to the chocolate.

You lose marks for the chocolate being melted, even if he knows it was Grim’s fault. He sympathises but as a man who strives for perfection, such a flaw cannot be ignored.

Will straight up tell you that he’s tasted better chocolate, but of course he has, luxury brand chocolate ends up on his doorstep daily.

Will stress that that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it, he thinks your recipe has its own charm.

Will give you a kiss on the cheek as he leaves, which is how you know you did good.

Epel

Absolutely over the moon that you made him chocolate.

Will throw down with Grim when he finds out what he did.

Your chocolate for him is shaped like an apple.

Thinks it’s so badass that you personalised the chocolate just for him.

Eats it immediately because he thinks if Vil sees it he will confiscate it right away and Rook can’t do anything if its already in his stomach.

Or can he?

Hypes up the taste of the chocolate so much. As if it’s the best chocolate he’s ever tasted.

May try to convince you to keep a secret chocolate supply just for him at Ramshackle.

Rook

Beauté! 100 points!

Waxing lyrical as soon as he sees the little gift pouch.

Your chocolate for him is shaped like a bow and arrow.

Another one of the judgmental ones but you wouldn’t be able to tell because he is hyping up the chocolate so much.

For him, the score isn’t only about the taste, its about all the components that came to make this dainty, melted chocolate in his palm.

Truly marvellous!

For the next week he’ll probably reference how he can still faintly taste the chocolate on his lips when he sees you.

Ignihyde

Idia

Firstly, props for getting a chocolate to Idia in person in the first place.

Like seriously this man is dead, how did you even get in here??

Tablet talking tiiiime.

Your chocolate for him is shaped like a gaming controller.

Lowkey thinks its kinda cool that you shaped it to look like that.

You can see his hair turn pink at the ends.

Although he does mock you a little by saying it doesn’t look any gaming controllers he has ever seen, but a noob like you wouldn’t know that.

Surprisingly judgmental about the taste (he has brands he favours) but is pleasantly surprised by the taste.

He would welcome more chocolate if you wanted to give it, but next time… Maybe shoot him a text first so he can arrange a pick up?

Ortho

Ortho can’t eat chocolate but he does get an extra special hug for helping you infiltrate your way into the Ignihyde dorm and into Idia’s bedroom!

You promised to play games with him soon as a reward for a job well done!

Diasomnia

Malleus

He’s absolutely reeling.

You had the guts to approach him and give him some chocolate? Such a brave child of man you are.

This is going in his hoard for sure.

Your chocolate for him is shaped like a gargoyle.

And yes, you included a building too so that you didn’t get a lecture on the difference between gargoyles and grotesques.

He’s delighted by this gift, he’s absolutely glowing.

Apologies, child of man, but he must depart immediately so he can ensure no harm comes to this precious gift.

The chocolate gargoyle, Briar Valley’s new national treasure.

Silver

How thoughtful of you to make him chocolate.

He doesn’t usually get to eat much chocolate, even if Lilia is constantly trying to offer him ‘chocolate’ that he has made.

So he’s really touched to get this little gift from you.

Your chocolate for him is shaped like a small bird.

He feels his heart warm, it reminds him of his little forest friends.

He wonders why it is a little melted, and is sad to find out what happened, but assures you that he thinks the chocolate still looks good.

He’ll compliment the taste too. He knows he doesn’t have the highest standards (again, growing up with Lilia), but he truly does think it tastes good!

Sebek

“HUMAN, IS THIS A GIFT FOR MALLEUS SAMA? THE GALL OF YOU, TO TRY AND CURRY FAVOUR WITH THE YOUNG MASTER…!”

Oh… It’s for him…?

You did it, you broke Sebek. You can actually see him buffering.

Your chocolate for him is shaped like a lightning bolt.

He blushes when you tell him its because his hair reminds you of lightning.

Will absolutely not comment on the fact that its melted. He’s a good boy really, it would be unacceptable to insult a gift he is receiving.

He will thank you, even if it sounds a little stiff.

He’s not used to receiving gifts outside his family, so this experience is quite new for him.

Lilia

Delighted.

Would you like to try some of his chocolate? He has the most intriguing recipes that he’s developed, come to the Diasomnia kitchen right now and he can whip you up a batch special…

Your chocolate for him is shaped like a bat.

He will give his signature chuckle and hold up the chocolate next to one of his bats for comparison.

His eyes would twinkle when he tells you “Why, I can hardly tell the difference!”

Another one who is surprisingly judgmental about the taste but more in a “this could do with some newt to really pump up the flavour” kind of way.

This old man has zero taste, take the fact that he’s complaining as a victory.

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