#female gift

[girlfriendgift]

girlfriend gift, fashionwithkorea.com, https://www.fashionwithkorea.com

[blkkizzat]

Y'all please look at my glorious commission by @schleepy-bunny!!

It's me bimbo!reader x ghostface!choso from my ghostface!choso fic!! i got the stairway scene drawn from pt 2 fjhdsfkjhsdkjshd

IM GEEEKED AHHHHH!!!! ITS GLORIOUS!!!

[bovivinator]

Re-listened to TAZ Balance recently and I’m still in awe that Griffin McElroy somehow managed to introduce a “long-lost twin of protagonist who had selective amnesia about them” character so late in the story, so successfully that she not only featured in some of the most thrilling and emotional moments of the series, but immediately became wildly popular and caused most of the fanbase to spontaneously develop crushes on her

[itneverendshere]

*:･ﾟ✧*: Pogue!Bartender!Reader Universe! *:･ﾟ✧*:

instagram stories au - over the years

╰┈➤ ❝ [your posts] ❀

╰┈➤ ❝ rafe's posts] ❞

it’s my first time doing one of these so be nice 🙂‍↕️

[greenandsorrow]

Hihi! I saw your requests were open so may I request alastor with a fem bunny reader?? Like the reader has a tail and looks all innocent and makes little squeaks?? If not it's fine and take you time and take care lovely!! <4

Innocence, interrupted.

🩷Alastor x fem!bunny!reader🩷

A short n' sweet and a tiny bit suggestive one shot.

🌷

Alastor was in the middle of his usual antics -radio static filling the room as he hummed along to a jaunty tune. That was until a small squeak broke his concentration.

He turned sharply, red gaze landing on you, the adorable bunny-eared guest perched on his armchair. Well, it doesn't belong to him, but it's his favorite. Your ears twitch nervously and your small, fluffy tail gives an involuntary flick as his gaze bores into you.

"My, my, what a precious sight you are" he says, his grin widening. "Are you lost, darling, or is there some ulterior motive behind hopping onto my seat?"

You swallow, your cheeks burning. "N- No, I was just... um... setting up tea time?" You gesture to the tray on the table, paws trembling slightly as you place the delicate teacup in front of him. Another soft squeak escapes your lips and you immediately cover your mouth with both hands, mortified.

Alastor chuckles, the sound rich and warm, but with that ever-present edge of menace. "Oh, you truly are delightful! A bunny bringing tea? It feels almost... domestic, doesn't it?"

His crimson gaze flicks down to your twitching tail and his grin somehow grows wider.

You can't help but fidget under his scrutiny, feeling as though his eyes can see right through you. "I just thought you might like it- And the others! Of course! But especially you... You've been working so hard."

"How considerate!" he exclaims, leaning forward and resting his chin on a clawed hand. "But tell me, dear, how do you manage to look so innocent while wandering into the lion's den? Do you have any idea what I could do to a little creature like you?"

Your heart races at his words, the playful yet dark undertone sending a shiver down your spine. His voice is hypnotic, both inviting and dangerous. You shift in your -his- seat, your tail brushing against the back of the armchair, making another involuntary squeak escape your lips.

Alastor's grin turns positively devilish. "Oh, you really can't help yourself, can you? Such darling sounds. It's almost cruel of me to tease you..." He leans even closer, his face mere inches from yours now. "Almost."

You bite your lip, your ears flattening against your head as heat rises to your cheeks. "Y- You're teasing me on purpose" you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course I am" he answers cheerfully. "And you're making it far too enjoyable to stop! But fear not, my little bunny -I'd never hurt a hair on your precious head. At least, not unless you asked me to..."

Your eyes widen and his laughter echoes through the room, melodic and attractive. He straightens up, taking the teacup you have prepared.

"Ah, this is delightful, indeed! And so are you, my dear. Do steal my armchair anytime -preferably also bringing more tea and those enchanting little squeaks."

As you practically scurry out of the room, face burning and heart pounding, Alastor watches with unabashed amusement, swirling the tea in his cup.

"Yes", he muses to himself, "quite the delightful distraction indeed."

Thank you for reading!! Support me here (PayPal link)

Hazbin masterlist 🐇🩷

This work is part of the nymph's daily gifts! 🧚‍♀️

Bow divider by @cafekitsune.

[aouiaa]

MINORS AND MEN GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!! CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT SUB!ELLIE

In the reverse cowgirl position with her hands on your knees to prop herself up as she wildly bouncing on your strap, causing the harness to rub against your clit deliciously. The pleasure shooting throughout your body makes you want more of it. You place the palm of your hand on her back to further heighten her movements, pushing her deeper on your strap, making nub of the faux cock kiss her g-spot perfectly. A moan that can be only described as a “Ooo” leaves her plumped lips. She looks back at you with the most awe-struck look. You relinquish in the way her eyebrows are scrunched together in pleasure, her mouth left agape.

AHHHHHHHH SAVE ME SUB!ELLIE SAVE MEEEEEEE

[lilimalia]

PENPALS // alhaitham

SYNOPSIS... where a far overworked employee takes to participating in The Steambirds newest news program, 'Penpal System'. Only to fall horribly in love with your penpal buddy... who’s also someone you know?

CHARACTERS... alhaitham (al-haitham?), kaveh, sumeru npc's, nahida/kusanali, aether (traveller), 4ggrevate + more!

DISCLAIMERS... , female reader, 3.2 archon quest spoilers, small enemies to lovers, cursing, aether traveller, very nerdy + silly reader who is soo emotionally stunted, not proofread

BARISTA'S INTEL... posting this like a year after I pulled alhaitham during his first banner o7... Anyways this fanfic went through so many revisions I hope yall enjoy (alhaitham loml <3)

CAFE TUNE... love story // Indila

LETTER X: Promotion

Working with a boss who is self-sufficient and only prioritizes finishing his nine to five job may actually just kill you.

Even if he’s really, really, really, cute.

Ever since the "great all-mighty" Alhaitham and the hero nicknamed 'The Traveler' saved your "wonderful" Sumeru. A day with the notorious 'Acting Grand Scribe' of Sumeru's Akademiya typically goes like this;

You wake up from a half satisfying sleep, realizing you've once again spent your night face smushed across the hard cold wooden desks of The House of Daena's library. Students who had a life less toxicating then your own; stared, whispering a far bit louder then what they thought would be out of range. Your eyes droop in defeat, having given up frantically -well, to the onlookers, maniacally- explaining that your boss was an egotistical know-it-all that forced you to stay late nights. At some point, all reason to argue became needless months after serving as Alhaitham's secretary.

Staggering half-mindedly down the pavilion, Sumerian robes fluttering loosely around your body as you swipe them sleeves closer to your chest, you tilt your nose up to the aroma of fresh baking from the stalls below. A savory smell of spices licks at your senses as you wander closer to the trail of delectable food waiting for you. It barely takes more than a minute for you to come waddling into Lambad's Tavern

Your daily saving grace, as you peak through the windows, eyes shocking open.

Peering over the windows, you glance nervously side to side as you scour the filled tables for signs of silver flickering hair adorned with a snobby headset of golden. A relieving sigh flies past your lips when you find that no such person exists. At least... In the Tavern.

Although, a tall brunette man peers above the counters, wooden dishes in hand as he notices you. Chuckling knowingly as he serves his customers, watching you stalk his windows. Like a creep-

Goodness, sometimes you almost felt bad for Lambad...

Motioning for you to come in, relief overtakes as you stomp in satisfied, waving politely and flashing a sweet cheery smile at the regulars as you march towards Lambad's bulky figure, his muscles flexing as he waves happily.

"[Name]! It's been only half a day since your last visit! I trust you're still buried head to toe in paperwork? Come, have a seat!"

Graciously, he leans over the table, pulling out a barstool for you as he hunkers back, grabbing a bottle of something underneath.

"Archons grace, you're such a sweetheart Lambad... You're way too kind. You have no idea. Gods, sometimes, I don't even know if I'm dreaming or wide awake and still working this hellish job!! Pleaseee Lambad... You've have got to save me!" Rambling on and on, you thump on the stool, groaning instantly as you slump over the counter, stretching your hands over your face.

Pulling down your cheeks with your hands, a quiet dramatic sob leaves your drained face as you stare all sopping like at the man.

Pouring out a baby yellow drink out of the bottle, Lambad pushes forward a chilled glass, adorned with small chunks of Zaytun peaches. Your mopey eyes trail to the faint sweet smell, launching out to pull the drink in as you place your chin on it.

Ahh... Sweet refreshing cold.

"Oh wow... Sure sounds like you've been through a lot [Name]! Here, try this new peach lassi I came up with recently! It'll be sure to cheer up your stomach at the very least! We can't have Sumeru's best worker going around on an empty stomach now can we!"

Sipping at the drink, the smooth texture of the yogurt mixed drink softens down your throat. An icy touch following with as the sour sweetness beckons you.

Whenever hungry, overworked, and far to underpaid to give enough of a damn, you could always count on Lambad Tavern.

Lambad himself was so used to listening to your daily problems he'd had learn overtime how to soothe your bitter heart. A nice new treat and the bonus of a bar seat left you no room for complaint. Often, he'd make sure to leave a small key underneath a nearby bush, hidden safely in a stowed away box.

Months back, when your boss had first been appointed at his position, and those darn Akademiya scholars had deemed you the perfect candidate to be his dog, Lambad had requested the Kshahrewar Darshan students to craft a small box for the extra key. A distinctive little wooden keep, shaped like a leaf with several knobs pointing out like twigs. Upon his request, the darshan had taken extra care to make the box as interesting and interchangeable as possible.

It made for a good pass time as you spent dewy, chilled mornings, left locked outside your apartment (archons forbid you remember the akasha terminals password for it) as you spent your early hours spent on a bench. Leaning over your crossed legs, you'd nit-pick on the box for hours, fiddling with the pin tumblr locks as you held the box close. Listening for small clicks left behind as the springs allowed for one lock to unlock another.

Zoning back in, you come to notice the lack of sweet yogurt lassi left in your chilled glass. Droplets now trickling down the sides of your glass as they collect, condensation pooling over your stunned fingertips wrapped around from the time you spent spaced out.

.

.

.

"Are you back yet' scholar? You blanked out longer than usual this time around. Hey, you spent so long thinking about whatever caused you to mope this time around, that you forgot to even tell me!" Laughing hardily, Lambad swipes the glass from underneath your freezing hand. Glancing back questioningly.

Strange. You don't usually space out when you're around company.

"Sorry Lambad, I don't know what that was... I just- Well, it felt like I just got wisped away... Weird." Pulling back your hands, you palm over the residual water in your hand, wiping it away on the ends of your Sumerian robes, clothes taking on a darker tone from the soak.

"No problem, lady! It's alright, happens to the best of us. Hey, that does remind me of a story I've been hearing though! Lately, other adventurers and Akademiyian scholars have been boasting around..."

Leaning in over the counter, Lambad whispers, eyes narrowing they dart around nervously,

"I hear that Adventurer's Guild Katheryne has got her hands full with this new program. It's from Fontaine's Steambird! Called the 'Penpal Program'... Sounds fun doesn't it?"

"I- What does that have to do with anything just now! Lambad... Are you crazy?"

"No, no! Let me finish. What I'm saying is, folks have been so upset in their work they've been writing about it across seas to anonymous friends. I hear it wisps you away into your own little escape!" Chuckling, Lambad pulls back, reaching into yet another cabinet as he searches the crevices for something.

"So, you're just nuts... Great, my only genuine friend... Lost to weird media," letting out a sigh, you plop back down on the counter in defeat.

Maybe you really weren't salvageable... First the weird spiraling, and now this strange program.

"Aha! Found it! Here, just give it a try [Name]... I'm sure it won't hurt you! You could really use a friend that wasn't a tavern owner you know..." heaving out a pile of papers, throwing them down; a puff of dust erupts. Lambad reaches for the top paper as he passes you it, huffing as he reorganizes the rest somewhere deep in his storage.

"You know, I worry about you lady... Seems like all you've been doing the past couple of months is working your end off for Scribe Alhaitham!-"

"Sh, sh, sh! Stop! Don't! Do not say his name. Oh, so help me Archons-"

At some point during the long arduous navigation to becoming Alhaitham's secretary, a strange phenomenon found itself into your life.

Sadly, every time you or your friends had mentioned the annoyance of a man, it seemed he'd find his way into your conversation one way or another... Almost predictably.

In any case, it made for a horrible superstition that the mere mention of his name could even summon him. Making it almost impossible to carry your normal tangents about the woes you faced. The oh-so-treacherous life of a secretary under a selfish boss.

At your defense, you had learned soon enough to warn your friends of the weird illusion. Finding out that if you could just convince them to omit the use of 'his' nine letter name it would solve his convenient interruptions into your life. Archons, the lengths you would (and have) taken to ignore this mans absolute atrocious presence...

Unfortunately, that never was a foolproof plan.

"Sorry! Sorry! I apologize... Forgot about that weird notion of yours to for a second..." Chuckling nervously, Lambad looks around, leaning in close to whisper,

"He couldn't possibly be around at this hour though... Could he?"

Inching in closer yourself, you murmur;

"I promise you, he's everywhere. It's so creepy... you have no idea!... One time-"

"[Name]? Is that you? Does your shift not start at 9 o'clock on the dot at the Akademiya secretary?"

"Fucking shi-"

Jumping up from your seat, your hand slams violently onto the wooden table (ouch) as you hop haphazardly out of your stool.

Glaring at Lambad, you watch as he sheepishly backs away, happily taking to ignoring your stink eye as he hums over your menacing hate. Forcing you to turnback your attention to the (unfortunately) approaching silver haired man as he strides in full glory.

Alhaitham, the notorious boss.

The man who caused you great distress day and night as he looms over your scholarly papers that he pushed onto you. Taking to taunting you and criticizing your work as he knowingly clocks out at five pm on the dot.

God, even his stride and speech was tantalizing.

It took every flexed stiffened muscle in your body not to revolt and gag on reflex as your eye twitched.

"Oh!... Alhaitham sir!... How- cough- good to see you so early. Yes, I know when my shift starts sir. I was merely grabbing a treat before I went to slave away- I mean, work on the demands the Akademiya higher ups sent in last night." Are you being dramatic, maybe, perhaps even yes, gags ensue.

Perking up a questioning brow, his muscles flex as he pulls down the golden headphones that laid flat over his head. Silky smooth voice clear as he ignores your obvious frustration,

"Right. Well, be sure to come by my- our; office sometime during your shift. I've received peculiar news you may just want to listen to. If you're so willing..."

Everything about him speaks superiority over you, it's almost more irritating that he still insists on calling the office he'd obtain over his promotion "ours".

A small noticing you had gained as you listened to how silky his baritone voice was, projecting across any room in a great demand. A reeling pull that you couldn't let loose from your mind.

It never was clear why he insisted on claiming the office was both his and yours. After all, the large thing of a room was piled head to toe in work addressed to him, letters asking for him and his advice, gifts and bribes designated to partition his favor; not yours.

Shaking off the thought, you nod, knuckles tightened beneath your long robe sleeves as your jaw clenches.

"Right. I'll be sure to come by as soon as I finish my business here, sir."

With that, a small nod flicks his head as he turns, walking pridefully away without a single glance back, closing the door in triumph as you groan.

It haunts you, the way his voice rings through your head and whispers behind your back;

honeyed low, demanding.

...

When you arrive at the infamous office, exactly 10 minutes before your actual clock-in, it barely surprises you to find Alhaitham already refined and sipping on a mug of coffee.

His dreary eyes running over the latest edition of The Steambird as he ignores your entry.

Huffing, your own eyes roll over, used to his lack of acknowledgement as you take to waiting on the soft (oh so warm and comfy) couch in his office.

Puffing the pillow up, you plop exasperated on the inviting seat, making sure to irritate him with your loudness as you reach to grab a novel from the neighboring coffee table.

It takes a couple awkward minutes as you both sit in dissonance silence, both flipping through each others respective readings. A habitual dance that was often played until either you or him in his pride chose to cough artlessly.

This time, after finding his fill of the latest news, Alhaitham's cough rings through the silence. Your momentary peace, broken, as soon as it was obtained...

"Are you done with that novel? Come, we have important matters to work on and I'd rather not waste the rest of today lingering around."

Cold and harsh, you reply in return,

"Just hand over whatever it is you're pushing on me this time, archons, it isn't as if you'll actually work on anything that doesn't benefit your personal goals Alhaitham." A tsk leaves your lips, stomping up and over to his table angrily as you peer over his newspaper.

His irises pool in irritation as the greens of his eyes close, eyelashes following. Narrowing his eyes as he surveys you back, maintaining an unknown feeling between your connection of gaze.

As of late, many mornings were spent with moments such as this, awkward responses, short curt flickering stares of temperate interactions. Alhaitham remarking about some part of your "lack of efficiency" to which you'd reply with a snide off hand remark.

Looking into his eyes, it was almost tempting to leave their chokehold on you, a want to trail your eyes down his sharp jawline, the hallows of his neck, the curves of his muscles and collarbone down to where the black of his shirts fabric tightened, defining their shape.

It felt almost reachable.

Kissable.

An urge to kiss away that silly, vexing, knowing glare of his. The uncouth way he continues to stare, waiting for you to respond first. As if he wasn't the one constantly pushing you to your limit, killing your spirit with his very presence.

What would it take to wipe that cocky morality of his?

A kiss to his jaw? Or maybe right where his soft, supple looking skin meets with the fabric of his tight shirt? Or perhaps even the back of his neck, where you once noticed was covered with equally luscious hair, and wires that connected with his headpiece.

Woah.

Where did that come from? That's not right...

This is Alhaitham, scribe of the Akademiya, your employer.

The man you detested to see each and every day. So where did these sudden fantasizing thoughts come from?

"Tch, here, lately, the Akademiya has been writing to me about the work you have done for them. It seems the work you produce meets with their subpar expectations. Congrats. This is your notice of promotion and details of increased wage. Please, feel free to celebrate this... Achievement elsewhere. After, you have finished your shift."

A letter stamped with the markings of a green wax leaf pulls from the desk, held in the palm of his hand as he continues to stare.

All this time, Alhaitham continues to look into your eyes. Prying at your very heart.

"... Oh, t-thank you sir. I'll be sure to review this..."

Still thinking about that strange string of thoughts you had, relectantly, you grab at the letter. Pausing just short of his extended hand,

"Are you... Toying with me?"

"Huh? Are you so disbelieving that I could have supported this recommendation from the scholars? Do I seem like such a dimwitted employer to you?"

"No! No... You're right, never mind. Thank you Alhaitham... Sir."

His hand is cold as you grab at the letter, electricity shocks through your fingertips as they connected with his.

A tint of warmth tingles through your body, rushing out of his office without a second thought.

Nerves run hyperactive throughout your body as your stand, knees wobbling as your back presses against the large wooden doors.

Letter crumpled into your clammy hands, a strange fuzzy feeling bubbles.

His hands... Seemed inviting. But oh, the way he stared. His eyes, they felt so tender and fond as they glowed, looking at you longingly, or so you could name.

Could visions very well do that to a wielders eyes? Make them glow with an unnerving amount of affection?

Your palms continue to grow sweaty as you try to soothe your pacing heart, pulsing still zapping through every bone in your body. A strange uneasiness clouding your head.

It takes you several minutes stood outside his door, trying to comprehend what the strange fuzziness was, before you opened the letter.

At least, maybe the letter could bring some sense into your clouded judgement.

Indeed, inside of the letter contained faked sugary words as they lined the new contractual rules. A bunch of normal office regulations listing out alongside a congratulations as you finally skip to the bottom, seeing a place to sign. Besides lay the words "Administrative Assistant" bolded and in cursive. The combining of a very, very, long set of numbers attached to the title, issuing your new wage.

Oh, sweet archons, you’re going to be rich.

Letter I: Introductions

Lately, a strange new habit has intruded on his normal life.

He often finds himself thinking a little too long about a certain someone within his life. It frustrates him to no end, considering how much it plagues him and drives him away from pure concentration to get through his workload. Alhaitham ponders the possibility of divine interference, confused as he sips on his mug of coffee.

After watching you leave in a rush just the hour before, it oddly piques him how quick you were to run out after your promotion. Though he knows you hate his guts for some reason or another, a strange tingle tugged at his chest as he had watched you leave. Strangely, he could almost say the feeling was sadness.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, the sad little feeling bubbling up in his pumping heart as he listened to the sound of your footsteps leaving without a second thought. How annoying.

You should at least have the decency to show your gratitude in front of him, instead of running away like he was the plague. Barely bothering to even smile at him when he had handed you the letter.

But... Your hands did feel nice against his own, a sharp zap of something eliciting through the mere touch you two had shared. He wishes that he could have been brave enough to grab at your hand, that weird tingly feeling of possessiveness as the thought of holding your hand twirled in his mind.

But only for a brief moment.

And there it is again- Moments like this were bizzare to him, for the past hour he had spent at his desk all he could think about was how your fingertips had grazed his own. An unusual sensation of what could only be described as joy as his mind danced around the idea of your hand in his.

A secondary thought of how confused you had seem peeks through, his eyes closing briefly as he tries to picture your face again. Rolling around the image of your confusion, hearing the saccharine tone of your voice thanking him as you had rushed out.

Was he really such a dreadful boss that a promotion seemed unlikely?

In any case, his eyes remain closed for a little longer, wrinkles adorned across his forehead as he tries to reimagine what he could have done wrong.

It's not as if he was some vile, inconsiderate man.

True, he had used the term 'dimwitted' and perhaps he had been known to be a little sharp tongued in the past. But it was all within sound reasoning. Right? …

Snapping out of his trance, his hand reaches for the tanned papers laid beside his mug. Bolden letters, inked in black, flowery design stretched out as it reads "Penpal Program ! hosted by The Steambird". Reviewing the contents of the column before placing his fingers around a random pen, itching to sign his name on the line. Perhaps taking the time to connect with people outside of simply you would anchor him back into reality. Anything that wasn't the constant cycle of you that replayed in his head.

It was unfortunate to say, but the amount of time he had lost in his work just thinking about what it would be like to spend his days with you really did affect his intellect more than he would like to admit. More unfortunate yet, even his 'friends' had taken notice. The bothersome room mate he housed, Kaveh, had found it amusing to make a game out of guessing what had gotten him so dazed as of late.

If it wasn't for the fact that sometimes, and only sometimes, Kaveh could offer decent advice, perhaps he wouldn't have considered the idea of figuring out one distraction with another... temporary one.

Afterall, why try and understand this vexing emotion when it would mean, he would have to confront you head on. Which sounds incredibly more irksome.

His room mate had been quick to point out this was not sound logic-

Kaveh did suggest, that perhaps Alhaitham could anonymously bring up this issue with a pen pal. A clean slate with no attachment to neither him or you, and could provide reasoning as to why he felt so... Unlike him. It would do him good to have someone to consult with, since, to his annoyance, Kaveh had stated he wasn't one to speak on his truths to anyone else, finding it annoying to deal with people in real life.

In his moment of brief intelligence, Alhaitham remembers him bringing up the mention that journalling and writing letters was a scientifically proven method of narrowing down how one feels. A key part that could help Alhaitham get to the bottom of his trance.

Though it peeved him that the blonde had been right, it was a good idea to journal his thoughts. It was simply a bonus that he would be receiving live feedback. Not that he would need it. Certainly, after taking some time to think it through these symptoms, it would obviously turn out to be he was right, and these feelings of butterflies were absolutely nothing at all.

Yet, fleeting memories of your face flash in his mind. Uncontrollable as he signs his name on the small contract slip below the newspaper. Thinking to himself how enchanting it would be to understand you. To peer into your vast thoughts, wondering if you too, ever contemplated him. Ever noticed him.

.

.

.

After spending nearly an hour ranting on to Lambad about your new promotion and massive paycheck, you find yourself in the establishment again, dwelling over a new dilemma.

Sitting on a stool in the Lambad Tavern once more, the lights flicker softly. Looking outside, the sky envelopes in a dark night. A chill breezing past your ankles as you scribble. The tiny noise of scratches and cups clinkering in the background as you squint your eyes.

Lambad peers over your shoulder, plates and cups alike stacked high on plates as his muscles flex to balance them. Raising a brow he looks curiously at the segment asking for your origins.

'Hello Participant! The SteamBird welcomes you to our new program. As of the new Inazuma border opening, our catalog figured it was time to branch out and bring together the people of Tevyat!

For suspenseful purposes, participants will not be allowed to reveal their true name. Keeping it a secret will be more exciting for both sides, don’t you think?

Below please list: age, gender, place of birth, and address for delivery.’

In your messy handwriting, out laid the letters spelling out the name of the nation of freedom.

"Mondstadt? I didn't realize you weren't native to Sumeru [Name]! Gosh... I have so many memories from sailing to Mondstadt. Tell me, did you move to Sumeru for your academics?"

It had been so long since you had been back to Mondstadt, having lived in Sumeru throughout your teen years, that the habit of writing it for documents was the bare minimum of what was Mondstadt-like.

"Oh! Yes, I did move here for the Akademiya. Actually, I left the nation so long ago I barely even remember what it was like..."

"Really? Well that's mighty interesting! Hey, you should write that on your first letter! I'm sure your pen pal would love to hear about that little journey!"

"Huh, wait. You're right, that is a good idea... Thanks."

Tilting your head, you laze over the blank piece of paper. The newsletter for the sign up stuffed to the side of the bar table as you glare at the letter.

Sigh, and so the writers block.

Existential dread looms over your head as you glare harder at the letter. Maybe, if you stare long enough at the paper it'll write itself.

It takes you eons to adjust, shifting in your seat as you tune out the sound of clinking dishes in the background. Your pen tapping just over the paper in essence as you try to scour for something to start with. In final, you decide on the simple message of hello and a few follow up questions,

'Hello friend! This is your exchange penpal, [alias]!

Nice to meet you. How are you doing? I hope for your sake you're doing well!

As an ice breaker, here's the basics on me, your pen pal. I am originally from Mondstadt, I'm a scholar, and I work tirelessly because my stupid boss thinks he can shove all his "lesser" work on me! Honestly, I moved from Mondstadt a long while ago to pursue a degree under the Haravatat Darshan... But it's been an upward battle ever since I was recommended (well actually, volen-told) to become the second hand for my department. Sorry, you're going to hear a lot about this boss... Unfortunately, he is a pestering constant in my life. Honestly, this would all be fixed if he was just a bit more understanding... Or maybe even used his annoying voice to communicate! It would be great if you had advice on how to get rid of him. Preferably in a corporate fashion, but I don't expect that at all! But enough about my silly world, who are you?

What do you do pen pal? Where are you from? What is your favorite subject to gloss over? Do you also suffer from daily troubles? Do you have any interest in studies or are you more of a physical person? That's totally cool too!

I'm not sure what else to write, but here's a fun fact? Maybe this can be our little thing!

Did you know, the first ever gear was created out of wood? At some point, a nation decided to use it for windmills and waterwheels. Though Tevyatian history doesn't really define where it originated, I've always considered the true contender as my home town! Mondstadt is so full of breezy winds and windmills it would be hard to think otherwise. '

Yours truly, [alias] :)

Adding on between the lines, your fingers release from the pen, stretching out instinctively before folding the letter, all marked with messy, clearly annoyed handwriting, before bringing the lip of the matching envelope to your tongue.

Carefully sliding the letter into casing, you grin with a thumbs up towards Lambad, who watches you in proud fondness. Returning the thumbs up, you skid the chair back, packing your stuff away quickly as you shove both the letter and the promotion letter into your pockets. Without a second glance back, you skip gleefully towards Katheryne's Adventurer's Guild.

Mid way, in all your excitement from finishing the days work, a part of your shoe catches in an uneven part of the road. In a moment, your whole body tilts, sending you crashing down in surprise.

...

You never touched the ground.

But, when you open your closed eyes, wincing for impact, your faced completely upright.

Not a single bruise nor scratch. Completely standing still as if you hadn't almost made a show out of your clumsy self.

"Oh! Are you alright? I hope you aren't hurt!" a small, child-like giggle.

Where is it coming from? Are you hallucinating?...

Maybe the excitement has gone to your head. Whipping your head around, you see no one. Not a single soul. Only the flickering yellow lamps as they illuminate the path in front of you, highlighting the stupid little dent in the road that had almost tripped you.

But still, not a single person, only a faint giggle that echoes in your ear in a whisper.

Strange...

Rubbing your eyes, you shake your head again. Looking around one more time in awe, trying to adjust your eyes in hopes of seeing whoever- whatever- was speaking to you. It takes seconds as you stand still, scanning your surroundings for any little detail.

Nothing but a small green leaf floats around.

Before long, you're scratching at your eyes again, pulling at your ears just to check if you were dreaming. You weren't, but still, an uneasy nerve sends a shiver down your spine. Urging you quickly to run towards the Adventerer's Guild to submit your letter.

It takes less than a minute to throw your short letter on the pile stacked on the counter. Scurrying off before that creepy child voice comes back and really proves you're crazy.

Stranger yet, the faint image of Alhaitham floats in your head, his blank expression bringing a sort of comforting solace in your head as you mad dash towards your apartment.

LETTER II + III: Personality (or lack thereof?)

When Alhaitham arrives home, the click of the door alerts a certain irritable blonde of his entry. A small tch leaves his lips as Kaveh furiously runs up to him, not a moment to spare between.

"Where have you been?! You took way too long, I almost died of anticipation!"

"Hmph. I was conducting business as usual, you would understand if you knew what it was like to maintain a constant job-"

"Why you! How dare you! You and I both know that I maintain everything in this house day and night!! Oh never mind that- Look, I got the letter for you from that Steambird catalog! Isn't this great?!" His face flushed red from exasperation, Kaveh practically pounces on Alhaitham, flailing the cream envelop, marked with a cute little wax stamp of flowers. Jumping up and down in excitement Kaveh pushes Alhaitham out of the door way. Too impatient to hear his response, instead taking to pushing him down onto the living room coach, shoving the letter into his hands.

"Are you perhaps concussed? It is merely a letter of simple exchange, why exactly are you so impressed Kaveh? Or is it that even bare socialite activities are foreign to you." Sneering playfully, Alhaitham's eyes glint with superiority as he looks at Kaveh, whose leg was practically bouncing in anticipation.

"Just- Why just open it! I want to know all about the unfortunate man-or women, who had to be partnered with you!"

It takes several minutes to settle his room mate down, much to his annoyance. Before ripping the envelope open to read your letter, admittedly, there was a twinge of hopefulness in his heart when the sight of blackened handwriting appeared out of the opening.

...

"Oh, sweet Celestia, they're relatable! And friendly too! Thank goodness for that!" Kaveh sighs in relief, taking the letter out of Alhaitham's hand to read over again at your letter. In his face a smile of childlike wonder as he considered the contents. Somewhere in his mind, he was grateful that the person wasn't some random old man... But rather someone who seemed to relate to his own situation and seemed quite young.

"Wasn't the point of coercing me into this... Silly letter exchange because you wanted me to get to know people and give perspective to my issues? This seems more like your own exchange rather than mine Kaveh." Sighing, Alhaitham yanks back the letter in force, glossing over its contents.

"Huhh?! You are so-... Okay yes- Fine! It was, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the experience with you. But... Come to think of it, you do need to write a response letter to them. Afterall, they seem friendly enough, and archons forbid you mess up this befriending too because of your pestering cockiness!"

"That is not true- I simply am-"

"Up up up! Shh. I do not trust the likes of you Alhaitham. So, as the most forgiving and kindhearted friend I am, I will help you give them in advice in return! Afterall, an annoying boss is probably not something you can relate to, can you." Snickering to himself, Kaveh quickly whips out a pen and paper, slamming it on the table in triumph.

"It seems like their problems are issues caused by their own neglect of setting boundaries. In fact, I truly believe I could come up with better advice then whatever you may have to offer. It would be so much easier if they would just try to avoid contact with their boss unless necessary."

.

.

.

"I cannot even believe you said that out loud. Never mind, you really do need help."

...

Within two exhausting work nights, an answer comes in the mail. Surprisingly fast for an international event. In anticipation, you rip open the nearly folded envelope, the postal stamp covered, hidden from any snooping. Unfortunately.

‘Hello [alias]. It is a pleasure to meet you.

For the purposes of our little exchange, you may refer to me as “σοφός(Sophós)”. I am not one for small talk, so I’d like to get through these formalities quickly.

As for my current occupation, I am currently an acting... (the hand writing darkens here, almost as if the writer paused to consider before continuing) manager for my workplace. It is rather easy if I may express. Many of the workers that interact with are simple in mind and can for the most part, handle themselves. Leading on, in response to where I am from, I choose to keep that confidential.

After all, did this program not specifically request us to hide or names as to add on to the suspense of interacting with an anonymous person?

It seems you failed to read clearly through the intentions of this program. It is alright however, that is an overlooking on your part which I will look over.

Moving on from this, I particularly enjoy reading long complex books which others cannot understand. I do not hold any preference towards what these novels may contain. However, often I find myself reading on the mechanisms of products more often than others. Privy to your Darshan if I must identify. Reading this, I think you can infer I am someone who enjoys academic knowledge rather than physical prowess. This would be an astute assumption as I am more often than not, researching and accompanied with a piece of literature at all times.

Of all your questions, I did save this for last, as I unfortunately find myself depending on a bit of outside advice. This is much to my own dismay, as I am always a person of rationale.

In the past months, I’ve found a strange phenomenon happening in the region where my heart lies. Whenever I meet with this coworker of mine, just seeing them sends this… Incomprehensible wave of pulses, they are uneven and not the usual beats per minute that my cardiovascular system would sustain.

It is also strange that alongside this symptom, I fail to focus on my perfect nine to five routine. Often, I find myself unwillingly dozing off, abnormal memories haunt me while doing so. Worse yet, these symptoms have also affected my [insert smart word for good brain] as I cannot focus and feel often lightheaded without a sensible pattern of reason why.

Now, it could be that these are physical issues that must be addressed by a professional, but I have reason to believe otherwise. Say [fake name] what is your insight on this dilemma? I would appreciate any thoughts you may have to give.

In appreciation for your counselling as for the spirit of this literary exchange, here is a fact about orthography. Of the undefined origins, researchers have suggested the reason that different nations of Teyvat write from left or right or vice versa could be cause of the material our ancestors once used to write. Example wise, how ink would drip down scrolls, so they needed time to dry. Afterall, our population has always been privy to dextrality. If Inazuman's wrote from right to left, the ink they used would have smudged under their clothes. Thus, leading to the change of writing furthest away to adhere to this problem.

It is a pleasure to work with you,

Signed, σοφός'

Wow, as much as life had taught you not to judge by first impressions, it was quite hard not to.

The letter you had received in turn felt very abnormally. Cocky. In a way, maybe it bothered you a bit more than it should have, but the way 'Sophós' wrote out their letter reminded you of a someone. So incredibly like someone and yet you couldn't put your finger on it.

The way they wrote though, was nonetheless entertaining, it was almost as if they were a shut in. And though judgement was not one of your mottos, it was honestly kind of cute how they seemed stiffened to write to someone. Honestly, it was surprising how it didn't provoke you. Thinking about it, a sudden realization comes to your head-

Aww- how sweet. It seems like your pen pal is inexperienced in the world of sociability. they were struggling with romantic feelings. Boy, was it hilariously dense for someone who seemed very smart.

Of course, it had taken you a moment too to realize what their symptoms were. But, for obvious signs of puppy love it felt so amusing to read about the tea. Heh, even the description of it all was so first love coded. To a tea. All covered under the guise of intelligence and yet your pen pal was reallyyy dense.

It doesn't take long before your quick to cozy up on your bed, a book on your lap as a surface to write on, as you click your pen. Looking down as you scrunch your face in concentration, giggling a little inside. (Maybe the interaction was healing a bit of the teenage girl you had burnt out years ago)

'Dear Sophós,

Wow! It sounds like you've got quite the life. Does it ever get boring? I sure wish I could be there in your position... A nice relaxing managerial job would make me feel so much better. Imagine the benefits! Unless of course, your coworkers are horrible and don't cooperate. But yours do so that's awesome!

Anyways, about your- as you said "cardiovascular" problems and memory issues. Fear not! I think you're just suffering under the common ailment of your "first ever crush"! Which is superr (you had made sure to bolden your words with several exclamation marks) cool! It's of course, nothing to be embarrassed about and it's totally normal!

I won't pry, considering this is all you asked for, but this isn't something you need to go to the doctors about! So don't worry. But crushes like yours have drastic differences in symptoms. I'm guessing yours has just begun to develop? Be careful! This illness can take down even some of the strongest! (a joking winking face follows suit)

If you want advice, I'd say just go with the flow! Do whatever you've been doing up to now, but hey, if this person you're crushing on seems to have flushed cheeks, or maybe suspicious behavior towards you to, that could be a sign of shared liking?

That's honestly all I can say... Not really someone who grew up involved in this! Still, a lot of good advice can be found in Inazuman novels! If you really want to move forward with this, read up on some of the weekly top choices for their romance novels!

Best of luck, just remember, consent is always key! Don't pressure whoever it is, give them space, but show your interest in small gestures! Maybe... like doing stuff for them? It's always nice to receive gestures from people :) whether it be gifts or freed up work!

Your awesome wingman, [alias]'

P.S Fontaine's leisurely otters will hold hands when they sleep so they don't drift off from each other! They also sleep on beds of native marine plants like we do on mattresses.

...

'Greetings [alias],

This is a very peculiar variable to reconsider into my life. Indeed, I fail to distinguish if this... Crush is a benefit for me or a burden. Can it be both? What do you think? On one hand, they motivate me to arrive at this hole of a job, but on the other, they seem to distract me from my duties as a manager of sorts. Perhaps, I could utilize these emotions to do otherwise?... I will have to research into this. It peeves me that a person such as I am struggling with these inexplicable feelings. However, now that I have solved the root of my symptoms, I feel as though I can properly move forward and decide from here.

I appreciate your help [alias]. In return, as for your qualms. Perhaps it would be best to consider that your boss is always going to be a constant. I think it is best to try and not dwell on what you can't fix and instead work on what you can do. For example, refusing to do work outside of the office, perhaps even coming in early to work with other workers to finish the days load.

This is all the advice I could offer, I find it quite difficult to relate to this situation, so I hope this suffices. I know you will be okay, simply try to remain above the average work and get caught up on what you are doing and beyond.

As for a fact, several of the fruits from native nations have been a biproduct of human trading. The revered sweet tangy peaches of Sumeru are actually native to the Liyue region, having been brought over a long time ago.

Much appreciated, σοφός'

Upon receiving the letter, a chuckle escaped your lips. Smiling at the sheer idiocy of the letter, almost dumbfounded at how obviously entrapped your pen pal was with their crush.

Perhaps this program was more interesting than any sort of office life drama.

...

Smiling to yourself at their feigned confidence, it wasn't surprising to you found yourself re-reading the letter you had recieved on the way to the office. (To think a new friend to bother was all it took for you to feel better about yourself)

Maybe staying up late to continuing to write letters back and forth between your pen pal was a stretch, but it did excite you. And the darkening of your eye bags was barely noticeable as your mood brightened by every interaction.

Although it was strange at how quick the mailing was to you still, you had come to terms with the fact that it benefitted you in talking with your new friend.

And of course, you had taken your friends advice very seriously. Out of respect for their help.

Still giddy at the thought of your letters, the clicking of your shoes against the marble rang a warning bell to your coworkers, all at their usual buzz as they stared. Of all mornings, today their whispers seemed even more noticeable to you. All of them murmuring under hushed turned heads about the smile you held walking. A curious comment caught from one conversation to the next, wondering why you were suddenly so cheerful as if your boss wasn't the debby downer Al Haitham.

This time, it didn't bother you at all. Instead, you found yourself even waving at your friendlier coworkers, greeting them happily as if this were a normal morning. Not even the thought of Al Haitham could bring you down from your new friend. The perfect pick me up following your new gigantic paycheck.

Dumbfounded, the gathering Sumerian scholars begin to fade out, returning your warm greetings as they scampered. Better not to ruin your cheery mood they feared. For the past weeks, they had found you abnormally happy, even to meet Alhaitham.

A melody humming from your lips, your fingers fiddle over the corner of the envelope, sealing the precious letter. Finding a giddy joy in a new friend you could console in and gossip with as you march up into Alhaitham's office.

Bursting in, your voice thunders out,

"Hellooo Sumeru! How are you sir? What needs to be done today Alhaitham? Hey,

"Stop. Wait [Name]." Alhaitham stands abruptly from his seat, raising a hand to pause you as you shut up immediately. Eyes widening as you took a deep breath of air.

Almost hesitantly, his hand drops to your shoulder, patting it, weirdly.

(Honestly it felt very nice to have that closure, but he doesn't need to know that)

His hand takes to guiding you to the coach, the one you often found yourself waiting on as he took his time finishing his morning newspaper.

Speaking of which, where was the newspaper? He wasn't laid back in his chair like usually reading it when you walked in, was he?

Plopping you down on the couch oh it's soft AND comfy-

"You... Seem out of it lately. For the past week, I have observed changes in your work behavior."

His voice (but mostly the soft... comfy... cozy couch) really did soothe you away from any argument.

"What is unusual for me is that you have been ahead of even me in our work. Every day I return to this office, I find that another scholar rushes in to give me more paperwork as typically instructed by the higher ups, only to atypically come back within the next day to see all my extra work gone"

Silence rings.

"Rightt...? Well, sorry if it bothered you Hai- Sir. I've been coming in early every morning to finish it. That way I don't have to stay late and you don't have anything to complain- ahem- I mean worry about," a lazy smile spreads across your lips as you drowsily glance up at Alhaitham. (That lack of sleep was hitting now)

His body looms over the back of the coach, broad shoulder bulging a little much as he crosses his arms. Glaring at you with an interested brow.

"Really? Is that so?"

(Something about a man with his muscles and his voice saying that to you did things they shouldn't do)

Every vein across his arms flexed a bit as he shuffled to ask, muscles flexing at every move, defined under the morning light peering from the window behind him. His silver hair reflecting god-like down on you as you continued to lean your head back, pulling into him until he leg was just barely making contact with the back of your head. The bare touch sending a heat towards your head that was utterly suffocating.

Laying like that, you could see the way his Adams apple moved delicately as he breathed, the way his eyes mirrored shades of greens to greys when the shadows moved.

A lazy, serene tension laid thick as thieves between the two of you.

Not uncomfortable you'd like to add, but sweet. As he stared it felt almost as if you could see his eyes shifting. From that stern scolding look, to, as seconds passed; soft, relaxing, worried, a dotting love somewhere in that sea of feigned control.

"Tch. Perhaps it would be wise to consider that work is not a mandatory activity outside of your assigned hours [Name]. Afterall, you just received that promotion bonus, what use is there in overworking yourself more than necessary?"

His voice turns slow, calculating, the same as his eyes when he looks at you, his whole body seemingly turns light as he stares. The way he looks at you now, you could have sworn you had him like honey in your hands.

Carefully, not waiting for your response, he moves to tuck back a piece of your hair that had strayed from the rest.

His fingers again, felt light, but home on your skin as they sent fluttering heat towards everywhere they touched.

Lingering to cup your forehead, and then your cheek, his eyes still watching in absolute infatuation, they fit perfectly against your face. Molding there like they were meant to be.

Gentle, inviting gestures of physical touch.

"As an official assignment as your acting sage, I am asking you to rest here until I return from an errand. Do you understand?"

"Mmm..." It was quite hard to protest when you could barely even find the will to keep your eyes open to look back at him.

Your head drops from it's stretched position, your body snuggling closer into the couch. Your eyes are starting to drift to a close, fluttering shut as his hand combes through your hair. Delicately pulling through where it could and letting go to return to your head. The whole motion setting you up for deep, deep, uncontrollable drowsiness.

By now, the morning sun had risen above Alhaitham's head, it's tender warmth cuddling to you as a blanket of sorts. The whole set up felt almost- no, was perfect for a reenergizing nap.

One that was well deserved you thought..

Blinking in intervals as you felt the warmth of his hands leave briefly. Quietly, a pressure draws over your lap, maybe a blanket? Who could tell.

His hands return to comb through your hair, still sending their tingling heat throughout your body as you murmured.

"Mmm, sleep well... [Name]"

...

Walking back to his desk, Alhaitham finds a sense of calmness eroding away at his pacing heart.

Just watching you stare up at him, doe like eyes following his hands like butterflies to milkweed. The very sight almost brought him to his knees. For a man made of a steel core, he's never once felt the way he did when you stared at him, looking back at him as if he was the only one in the world.

By gods, you made him feel so alive.

The way his heart raced was unlike anything else he's ever felt. The blood rushing to his head and without thinking, he was already reaching out, caressing your cheek gently with one hand, gripping the back of the chair with his other.

Sinfully, he wasn't sure if he could have handled holding the whole of you in both of his hands in that moment. Everything about you made him quake in his shoes, his body always felt so light. The scene replays in his head.

The every aching moment he spent, gripping at the back of the chair, careful not to disturb you, thinking how horrible of a man he had. Where was all his self control now?

All he wanted was to hold you. Grab you by the cheeks, but oh, so carefully, so preciously, because he couldn't ever think of hurting you. Gods no.

In the back of his mind, Alhaitham could only think, in a sliver of his mind, were the archons testing him? Begging in his core, the very urge to kiss you. Shower you in affection, hold you so dearly in his arms as he would feel you melt into him.

You were just so... Much.

The most he ever wanted.

Looking down at his desk, he grabs at the torn open letter, on top, a pinned checklist. Vaguely, the makings of your handwriting lay on top of the smooth paper.

Except, stapled to it, a checklist, small but noticeable in a light green color, written out in his writing.

How to win her over:

-Be consensual, but always remember consent

-Do stuff for her (Possibly lighten her workload?... She has been doing much as of late.)

-Read more romance novels. (A lot of this male love interests seem to give things with meaning, flower language and such. Perhaps a bouquet? Would she even like that?)

Staring at his checklist, he promptly scratched out the third item of the list. A flushing pink spreading throughout his body, palms unusually sweaty as he could feel his body heating up.

Gods, he was smitten. And it was all your fault.

Stuffing the checklist and letter into his pockets, he found himself stomping out, embarrassed at his flushed face. He'd be sure to not meet Kaveh on the way out, the architect would simply make a whole parade of it.

Stumbling out of his office, he miraculously found it in him to resume his stoic face, carefully closing the door as to not wake you.

He looks back one more time as the image of you floats in his head. This time, it comes with a smile.

...

The House of Daena remains to be the sole place Alhaitham finds enjoyable.

Having just walked out, a stack of book carries between his arms, light in his grasps. Before he could rush back to the office however, he finds a blonde (thankfully not Kaveh), a fairy, and Nahida, walking towards him.

"Alhaitham! Hello! How is the Acting Grand Sage doing? Wowee! It's been a while since we've seen you! What'cha up too?"

The voice of the floating little Paimon rapidly approuches, following behind the traveler waves, quiet as ever.

Tailing behind, Lesser Lord Kusanali follows, bumbling with a sweet smile as always.

"Hello Paimon, Traveller, Lesser Lord Kusanali I am more than well thank you. I was on my way back to the office actually. Coincidently, I am not off of work yet as it is still within my work hours. I was simply checking out books for... a coworker." Shifting to his side, he hides the title of his novels pressed to his leg. Carefully trying to keep hidden the titles and clear images of light colors, pictures of illustrated fictional characters holding each other. The titles even more evidence that they were in fact romance novels.

"That sounds wonderful! But please, we're long time friends now! You don't have to call me Lesser Lord. It feels... Well, ehe, unusual for what we've gone through"

"Paimon agrees, you don't have to worry about formalities like that Alhaitham!" Paimon laughs.

"We're all friends here aren't we? Your too stiff sometimes hehe... But! Anyways, those books look interesting. What are they about?" Peeps Nahida, her cheery tone matching exactly the way she looked, Alhaitham thought. Cheery, bright, and decorated with various Sumerian leaves.

His breath hitches, "Hmm. They aren't anything of interest. In fact, they're quite confidential for their intended purposes. Actually, I really must get these back to my coworker."

"Aww... Really? Darn! Well, since you're on your way back to the office, why don't the three of us all come down there with you? It'll be fun to catch up on your life Alhaitham! Maybe we can even say hi to Kaveh on the way!"

A breath of exhaust leaves his lips.

"We won't bother you too much! It would be so very interesting to see what you do Alhaitham" Nahida's voice pops in, traveller nodding along as the two press on. All three of them pushing into him, eyes glowing in curiosity. (Would it be a divine offense to reject a gods request?... Tempting.)

"Prettyy please? Oh grand acting sage sir?"

It seems his work evening would be lasting longer than he assumed. It also didn't seem like the three of them would give in anytime soon. Rather than later, he'd appreciate getting back to you before you woke up and started working again before he could say no.

Out of all his options, unfortunately, it seemed he would have to bring the lot with him.

"Huff, fine. But you have no need to call me grand acting sage. And do be mindful and quiet when you enter. I have a guest in my office who I urgently must tend too."

Before Paimon could open her mouth, Alhaitham made sure to turn quick on his heels and start speed walking towards his office. But even that was not enough to stop Paimon from asking questions of the guest, who it was, and if they were important to him or not.

The poor traveler had to keep holding Paimon back, threatening to eat her as dinner if she didn't hush up.

...

When you woke up, your body well rested, an eerie feeling followed suit.

"Holy shit."

Almost immediately after gaining full conscious, all of what had happened replayed in your mind. Painfully tracing over every single detail.

The way his hands had caressed your face.

Oh, great archons be damned.

Your fingers ran through your hair, pulling at it as you squealed into the nearest pillow. Absolute regret pulsing through your head as you remember how soft he had held you just hours before. Almost choking you in a burning heat that blew up in your face. Over and over you re-imagine it. Tenderly touching your own fingers to the places, he had caressed, longing for strange closeness again.

Footsteps gradually approach the grand doors.

"Shh... Please be wary of your voices. My secretary is asleep in my office as of currently."

The familiar deep voice of Alhaitham's rings out behind the door, muffled but still audible to your ears. The heat burns as fast as your heart's beat.

"Are we bothering them? We can always leave Alhaitham..."

A voice, deeper in tone, yet not one you remember, speaks up. Right as the door creaks open and Alhaitham peers in cautiously. Eyes narrowing in on you.

His stare stills you cold.

"Ah... It appears that she's already woken up. Never mind then, it'll be fine Traveler, come on in you all."

By the sound of his voice, and the slight twitch of his lips, you couldn't tell if he was bothered by the company or if he was enjoying himself.

It was a bit of place, watching as a young blonde man, hair beautifully braided back and adorned with simple clothes walked in, a nervous tap to his steps. Following suit... A very bouncy fairy? And a young girl? Adorably, she pokes her head first by the crack of the door, before seeing you and smiling brightly, feeling confident enough to skip in.

What strange company for Alhaitham. Admittedly, you never once thought to dwell in Alhaitham's personal relationships. You were always so busy finding him hateful and prude to notice if he had any actual connections with people aside from you and the workplace. It was quite the sight to see his assumed friends to be two younger children and a foreigner by the looks of it.

Alhaitham motions for the guests to take a seat on the opposing sides of you. Finding his way over to sit beside the man he called 'Traveler'.

A bit of your heart drops.

The whole couch was empty except for you, the couch he was sitting on with the Traveler was even more cramped then if he had sat with you.

(It's nothing, right? Immature noticing's is all)

"Well, Traveler, Paimon, Lesser Lord- ahem, Nahida, I suppose I should introduce you to my second hand, this is [Name]. An employee personally appointed by the Haravatat Darshan. They have... cough, well, been a great help to me."

"Oooh! Hello [Name]! Wow... Paimon's never heard Alhaitham compliment anyone before! You must be some sort of superhero! Paimon is pleased to meet you!" It takes only a blink for the squeaky fairy to get up in your face, zooming circles around your head as she studies your face curiously, a finger at her lip as she looks.

"I um- Thank you! I try my best really... It's a pleasure to meet you too Paimon. As for you Traveler! Are you the same Traveler everyone else has been gossiping about? Wow... It must be really tiring to travel around the nation like you do!"

"Oh, you don't need to flatter. Thank you, I try. I'm sure you must do a great amount to for Alhaitham. He is well... A very studious worker" Traveler nods, smiling as he turns to Alhaitham. The two sharing a secretive look.

Moments pass on, light conversation flowing between the five of you. The traveler and his friend bombarding you about all that you do. Wondering about your interests in mechanics, curious of your life's story.

Occasionally, the sweet young girl Nahida would butt in, asking about your thoughts the more obscure matters of the latest mechanical developments. 'What do you think of transversal waves Ms. [Name]? Have you ever thought about applying them too...' It surprised you how knowledgeable she was about mechanical waves and even beyond. Deep, thoughtful theories passing between you and her, a common connection you found, was that she often wondered about the makings of mechanical wears. It was nice, pleasant to feel welcomed after the momentary bitterness you felt. (It still lingered, but you found yourself dismissing it as childish.)

Alhaitham and Traveler seemed well content talking amoungst themselves of... Adventures. Something you never once knew about Alhaitham. Never would you have thought he was a man of travelling. Though it was common for Akademiya students to be well-rounded in every field, it left you a bit hollow that this fact had been hidden from you.

As the hour passed, it only grew. The silly backhanded thoughts in your mind. 'Who are they talking about?'.

'I've never knew his break from work was because of the Traveler...'

'Why is it so easy for them to talk to eachother?'

It was hard for you to wrap your head around their conversation. Passing phrases like foreign language to you. How was it they seemed smarter then you? Why did it seem they had known each other forever? What was it about their allure that made them so easy to feel frustrated for?

By the closing second, as much as you tried to listen to Nahida's remarks you could barely stop the way your eyes unwillingly travelled back to the way the two sat with each other. The pressed down cushions beneath them caving in, pushing their bodies towards eachother.

They seemed to know everything about him. More than you had ever gotten to ask him about. They knew about what he did in his free time... The things he hated. The books he reads. Especially the studies he liked talking about.

Why does your stomach feel funny? Your heart just minutes ago was beating far past its average rate, but watching the way Traveler and Alhaitham sat close had dropped it to a cold, fearful low.

An awkward silence passes between the room, your eyes to busy fixating on the way Alhaitham didn't bother to scoot away from the unnerving touch of bare fingertips.

Suddenly it feels a little too real all over again.

You knew this feeling. The dead pit way your stomach felt empty. The way your head felt numb, the way your heart stung. A dark, selfish, want bubbling in the place you held Alhaitham dear.

Being from a school of top-academics, it was expected from all the students to feel the inevitable complex about each other. The one they labelled the "inferiority complex". A hidden part of the system everyone ignored. A deep, pushed down hatred the scholars would often feel.

As successful as your life had been academically, never once had you learned how to deal with it.

The drowning thoughts that took over, telling you that everything you ever strived for wasn't enough.

There are smarter people.

A breath sucks through your teeth.

.

There are people with more awards.

You breath it back out.

.

There are people who have gotten visions, divined and noticed by gods.

Your mind fuzzes.

.

There are people, who are simply just better.

The air feels cold.

.

.

.

In truth, it was never explained to you how to defeat this dragon. This terrifying beast that told you things you knew somewhere in there was wrong.

Your worth shouldn't be compared to different situations.

You knew better.

Your worth isn't determined by the quality of your work.

You wanted to believe.

But every striving student feels the pain of being casted aside. Outshined by another child's brilliance. Their more outstanding grades, their more outstanding test scores, their more outstanding glow.

The Akademiya was no place for the weak minded. Not when there was so much to accomplish and so much more to prove. When put in a palace of the talent, you felt talentless. But it was never like it wasn't your only struggle. Other problems came along, and they fought with you, and they tugged at your heartstring and your mind, but in the end, your value in comparison, your life, and your inferiority were the one thing that stayed constant.

Maybe that was why, when he had shown up in your life for the first time, you found your aged wine, mulled with the crushed fruits bared from your nights of overwork, from what ifs, poured on top of his silky grey hair. Until it eventually soaked him, and all you could do was take of your shoes. Stepping over those same fruits, working over and over, day and night, crushing the new wine, all to pour back on his head.

And yet he still outshined your efforts.

Sitting on top of his throne of amaryllis. Glowing in color, brightening his everlasting superiority.

And yet your dry, mulled fruits, remained sad in color.

Comparison.

A part of you remembers when he had first walked into your life. A blooming young student you were, always outdoing the rest. Your every waking hour was spent on wishing for the wonderful, for true greatness. Ingenius discoveries and more.

But the moment he had taken your seat upon the throne, the fruits below had dimmed in color.

Yes, Alhaitham had always been as glorious as he was now. Everlasting genius he was. He sparked a flame in you to improve, to be better, to never fall behind.

But never once had he taken a notice to you. Never once had you found him talking to you. Instead, the months would pass by, and you would never once catch up again.

Every, single, class and award, he took rightfully his.

Stone cold face peering down at the shining medallions, a scoff upon his perfectly smooth and youthful face, before walking off stage, leaving you to take the ranks of fourth or fifth.

No matter what you did, he never did realize you were a competitor.

Never once did he even congratulate you, even at graduation, when the two of you stood side by side in class photo.

.

.

.

Maybe that's why when you had finally secured the job working for the Grand Sage, you were overjoyed. Even if it wasn't what you had imagined, you had finally made it a step closer to his pedestal.

But when you had introduced yourself, a sunny naive smile dotted on your face, he gave you the same disgusted face he had always given you.

His voice only came in demands from there on.

He didn't remember you. Not at all.

No, he chose to forget you.

...

It had taken you months for him to even remotely warm up to you, and longer days yet for him to talk about himself with you. At some point, the effort became nauseating.

You couldn't stand to even mutter his name.

So perhaps the Traveler was a better person than you were. A smarter person than you. Maybe they were in league with Alhaitham from the very beginning. Maybe to him, he thought the Traveller as someone of his level. A worthy ruler to sit beside his pedestal.

The feeling boils deeper, that sickening feeling of jealousy produced by those fruits of your younger years you had so desperately tried to hide.

(A tear threatens to trickle.)

"Ah... [Name]? Are you alright? You seem out of it right now. Do you feel tired again?" The Traveler notices the shift in your eyes. Your face having dropped a while ago, staring into nothingness.

.

.

.

"Ms. [Name]?..." The green in Nahida's eyes swirl a bit, a nervous worry across her face now, noticing you aren't responding.

"Oh. Sorry. It seems I'm not feeling too well right now Traveller, Nahida. I'm sorry, but it seems like I must leave for the night. It is after my workhours anyhow..." your voice sounds meek in comparison to the Travelers.

"Oh no... That's no good. Would you like one of us to walk you home? Maybe Alhaitham?" Nahida suggests. Oh, bless her sweet heart.

"That... Would not be very professional Nahida. If it is alright, there are matters I must discuss with the Traveler in private."

Again, you notice how there's a glint of catching eyes between the two men.

"Oh, but Paimon doesn't think [Name] should go home this late at night by herself! We spent so long talking it's near night already."

Your gut sinks a little more, embarrassment flooding through your system, "It's fine guys. I can go by myself! My home is just a walks away."

"It's okay! I can go with you [Name]! There is something I'd like to talk to you about too!" Nahida peeps up. Looking at her smile, something about her careful gaze felt almost motherly.

Quite comforting even.

"... Thank you Nahida. Sure, why not." There is no will in you to argue.

After short good byes, you leave, breath hitched as you fight the urge to look back at his silver eyes.

Your sure they must have looked beautiful, as they always had.

...

That night, after plopping down on the couch and thanking Nahida profusely, she thanks you, stating something odd,

"I hope you sleep well [Name]. You seemed troubled earlier. May the Archons watch over you."

Barely enough energy to spare, you find yoursef on the hard wooden floors. Chilling to the touch, but most welcomed compared to the humid weather.

That night, strange memories form dreams, merciless as they plague you.

Flashes of memories of you and Alhaitham, back from the Akademiya days switch from one to the next. Almost in parallel, you'd remember one scene, before a flash of change, to the perspective of someone else.

It was like you were watching yourself from your perspective to an outsiders.

And every time, without a fail, the change would take away Alhaitham. Instead, the outsider would murmur in frustration, low in tone, things you could barely make out. But a longing, desperate feeling, unlike the one you had felt away, would find its way back to the outsider, every time they would look at you.

It was weird.

When you woke, you could barely remember what the strange person narrating was saying. Still, the sun shines, commencing another day of work.

LETTER IV: Ghosting

By the time you arrive at the office, it is still night. The sun barely peeking past the horizon.

Your in no mood to work however. Instead, you take out the crumpled letter paper, rummaging for a pen, and sit down, writing out your thoughts.

'Dear Sophós,

I'd hate to cut welcomes short, I hope as always you are doing well, but I urgently need help.

Do you remember the boss I had talked to you about?

Well, it's been long since he's rude and terrible behavior. It's actually miraculous. Out of nowhere he has been acting all nice and well mannered! Even though it was off putting at first since well... He's never done that ever. It was very sweet and nice. (you pen out a cute drawing of rainbows and sunshine to emphasize). But... Another issue has started.

I feel weird around him.

Not just him specifically, but, when he was meeting a friend, this long standing issue I've had came back.

I started feeling all these horribly sickening emotions. Jealousy is what it was. Just from watching how close the two were. They acted as if they had known each other for years Sophós... Something about it really hurt me to watch. And they talked to each other so easily too! Do you know how frustrating that is? I had wished for that type of bare closeness with him for so long, but for this friend of his, it seemed so easy. So Sophós I really beg, how do I fix this? I know for sure it was caused from something, but I can't pinpoint what from... I know that I have felt it before, back in my Akademiya days, when often the other students would outshine me in my craft, so I know for a fact it isn't romantic possessiveness, but still, the feeling isn't the exact same and I don't understand why it's happening.

Can you help me pen pal?

It's bothering me that such trivial baby feelings are getting to me. I feel lost. Am I jealous because of their friendship? Or is it that maybe I think that friend of my boss's is far superior to me?

With immediacy, [alias]'

...

For days, you couldn't find it in you to confront Alhaitham. You knew for sure he wouldn't have known what he did wrong, but the thought of how he had been so trusting of the Traveler compared to felt to frustrating to confront.

You knew it was childish. But for days you ignored him.

Your own boss, who you had finally learned to enjoy company with, was now back to be strangers with you.

Worse, every day you would find yourself desperately checking the mail, wondering where Sophós response was.

Your only friend outside of your chaotic worklife, out of nowhere, had suddenly disappeared the moment you needed them the most.

Now you were only more frustrated. Spending days trying to ignore your boss and also waiting for your friends response had taken to much of your valuable time.

An aching anxiety stayed conjuring in your body. Surely your penpal hadn't already gotten tired of you right? You couldn't trust yourself to make reasonable decisions without them. You had never taken the time to understand your emotions throughout your schooling, and so maybe you were too dependent on Sophós to advise you.

Still you waited. Spending every waking hour of the job, waiting desperately for help from your friend while nervously dancing around the building, hiding from Alhaitham's calls of your name.

...

Alhaitham hasn't seen your face in days.

He's started to worry a long time ago. And the guilt eats him alive. That night, he had rejected to walk you home as he needed to ask Traveler, despite his ego, what to do about his feelings.

When Nahida had come back to see the Traveler and Paimon as well, he had further buried his high head to ask for help from the archon.

It took him everything to cover his flushed face, bright red as the annoying high-pitched fairy had floated close to his face, asking all sorts of questions about his interest in you. Clearly surprised as if he couldn't hold sentimental connections.

Tch, the nerve of them.

The following weeks though, it seemed you had taken it the wrong way. Moments, he would find you across the hall, having chocolates or flowers he had plucked stuffed in his pocket, wanting to sneak them to you, only for you to run away.

What annoyed him more was, by the second week, it was 100% clear and noticeable to the whole office he was being ghosted by his assistant.

It took him days on end to search for even the slightest sliver of your hair, only for you to find some convenient place to hide. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why you were upset with him.

It had even become noticeable to Kaveh.

By the Friday of the second week Kaveh had appeared at the office, under the guise of some Architectual project to yell at him again.

"You've forgotten your headphones twice now Alhaitham! What is the matter with you lately? By Archons Alhaitham we have mail piling up at home and I'm pretty sure your pen pal is waiting on a response right now!"

"Keep it down won't you. Listen, I have better issues to attend to of late. There are far more important priorities than the pen pal thing." He scoffs in annoyance, looking back down at his checklist and then to the stack of paperwork he had been putting aside.

Trying to find you in the massive building turned out to backfire, spending most of his time occupied by you had put him behind on work he could care less about. What worried him was that you had called in sick that morning. Something that had never happened even once in his term of office.

"Is that... Late papers?!... You-" Kaveh points dramatically, "have missing papers? Now there really is something wrong. Spill it. Now. I have to know what's been throwing off the almighty Alhaitham."

"I can practically hear the sneer dripping off your sentence Kaveh. Don't get too excited. It's just... Well. [Name] has been gone for the past days." His eyes flutter to anywhere else but the obviously dramatic jaw drop Kaveh had on.

"[Name]? Your assistant? Uh oh. What did you do this time? I knew it... You annoyed them to death with your attitude!"

"No- Before you continue, it was not because of me. At least, I don't believe so." His words trail off in doubt, feeling wrong even to him.

"Before you continue yelling in my ear, it happened to be I may have... Made her angry. But I don't know by doing what."

"Well then you've got to figure it out!... I'm tired of having to walk from here and back for the stuff you forgot. It's getting on my nerves! Tell me about the day before she started ignoring you, maybe that'll help your dense head."

...

Upon recounting everything to Kaveh, Alhaitham's guilt had only worsened.

It was not a feeling he was enjoying.

"She obviously was taking the hint you liked her! And then you up and left her to walk herself back?! What is wrong with you?!"

"I- I was talking to the Traveler about her. I would have never thought she could have been jealous from that..."

"Well, she clearly was! If anything, she probably thought, he was competition! You have to go fix this. Now."

"Kaveh, have you not retained any of the information I've given you. I have been trying, but she ignores my attempts to consolidate."

"Well... That sounds like a you problem! You need to figure it out. Maybe even arrange a date and finally confess like a man Alhaitham!"

The bickering between the two of them lasts for an hour before Kaveh stomps angrily out. A semi-conclusion reached as he yells for Alhaitham to get his act together.

"She likes you Alhaitham! So, get your crap together and tell her you feel the same!"

By the time the blonde's angry footsteps stop ringing across the floor Alhaitham feels the stress overflooding all over again.

For a man who prides himself in remaining calm always, even he couldn't cool himself down from the sheer embarrassment at his lack of romantic realization.

You liked him.

And the thought made him an absolute mess. His long fingers crunch around the nearest paper, the other hand folding over the bottom of his face, desperate to cover his bright rosy cheek. Uncharacteristically, he feels nervous.

Memories of your face that day floods into his head again. Dizzying him only further.

How unfortunately timed.

It takes him minutes to calm down, trying to shake your pretty face out of his mind. When it does finally happen, and he feels like he can breath again, his stoic face returns, letting go of the sad papers he had crumpled.

The checklist, still stapled to the letter you wrote, and a managerial essay you had written after surveying a project, all crushed together.

Looking closer, Alhaitham notices the little pictograms between each other line. Both on the professional paper and on the personal letter.

His brow raises, pulling the two items closer, he looks carefully at the writing. Looking at the way their addressed to him. The specific way that both show off similarities. The hand drawn emojis, the tilt in your letters, and the way your mannerisms showed in both of the papers.

Suddenly, he finds himself rushing out of his office, running towards your address. The street number coincidently returning to his memory from the very first day you had applied to be his second hand.

LETTER: INTERCEPTED

Gloom had taken over your body. The longer you spent moping over yourself, the more you felt pathetic and childish for even believing your friend and most (newly) trusted advisor would remain forever. Entertaining the wild possibility, you liked Alhaitham and that had caused all your pent-up jealousy wasn't even worth thinking about now.

Tissues now stuffed your trash, several scrapped up papers detailing letters to Sophós laid crumpled up and piled on the dining table. The pen long lost somewhere in the ground as you slumped over the couch.

Wasn't love supposed to be beautiful? The fabled spell uplifted you and made you feel powerful?

So why was it yours felt so different? For the past weeks you've felt a dry spell in motivation. A drought you've never experienced before, all to be replaced by loneliness. Your own pride eating you up inside as the thought of having apologize for your 'unprofessional behavior' felt like it would simply add on to your despair. Before you can continue sobbing to yourself, thinking about how far you had gone in life just to reach this point-

The doorbell rings.

You stay quiet. Praying that whoever it was would go away.

"[Name]... I can tell you are in there. Your usual shoes are still out here. I- Well, I wanted to talk about what has been going on."

The soothing sound of his voice brought you almost back to frustrated tears. As much as you missed him, a piece of you feels confused.

Still, you walk towards the door, the way you look like a sopping wet cat be damned.

When you open it, carefully, hesitantly, his eyes lock with yours. Just as they always have.

Naturally. Adoringly.

"Would it be wrong to ask if I may come in?"

Your voice seems to lose itself somewhere in the midst of it. Watching the way the sun shines behind his towering body, just as always, showcasing his presence over you.

You shake your head, opening the door wider to let him in. Parts of your head still screaming at you to keep your pride.

For the first time in a long while, you shut down the little girl who learned to be a prideful scholar.

...

An hour goes by, and then a second.

Alhaitham's sittin on the other side of the couch, still the one you are on, but far enough away to give you space to curl up in your blanket. Soft as it pretends to be your shield.

With a deep breath. You speak first.

"I'm sorry."

From there, it all spills. And gods, as flawed as he was, Alhaitham could tell you needed to let it out.

He sat there so patiently, maintaining that fierce eye contact that sent your legs limb as you explained every little detail. Afraid of any miscommunication killing what the two of you had left.

Minute after minute you explain how you had always had a complex over how you compared yourself. Talking out about how you had met him, how he had changed your perspective. How at first you hated him and now... Well. It sort of spilled somewhere in the mix. In some part of the whole messy confession, you had started crying, uncontrollable heart wretched sobs as you apologized profusely over and over. Scared for what he might do, fire you maybe? You wouldn't blame him. If anything, you deserved it for your behavior.

Still he waits. His eyes watch you carefully, watching the tears trickle down your face. The way your cheeks and nose turn red with scratches as you swipe away at the hot tears, stinging at your face.

In the midst of it all, Alhaitham finds himself reaching for the box of tissues placed on your table, handing you several as he sits back down waiting patiently for you to finish your sobbing.

It takes another hour to explain.

He doesn't interrupt at all in that hour. No comforting words, no consoling gestures. Instead he continues to sit, continuing to watch tentatively, which only brings you to tears again as you feel horribly guilty for keeping him waiting.

When there are no more tears to cry, you find that you're met with pure silence.

.

.

.

Then it becomes his turn to explain.

Fear returns when he lifts out the papers, showing them to you as he explains. Scooting in closer to your fetal body as he finds himself wanting to hold you.

In him, a rage boils over, to him, it's disgust. Not a hatred for you, but to him. He feels like he has failed you. For someone who claimed to love you, he certainly had not expressed clearly that he did. And so he continues to explain, taking time to watch how you react. Which, at this point, was barely anything.

Your eyes are swollen from crying and apologizing. He takes care to notice the way your throat seems to have swollen, the way you nod slowly to ensure he knows you're listening.

"I am sorry [Name]. I... Should have consolidated with you instead of being a coward. I was foolish in taking to a pen pal program instead of talking to the real person I cherished- No. The person I love."

Again, he finds himself dropping all the papers. Turning to you. Lifting up your swollen cheeks with both his hands.

"I am sorry."

Your eyes threaten to tear up again, a twitch of your nose as you sniffle. You look at him, facing him as he was, and suddenly, it feels safe again.

The burden of your guilt lifts a little, and though you don't have the voice to say, you launch forward, hugging him tightly.

He feels warm this way. His hands drifting down to around your waist. Their almost... Oddly placed. As if he isn't sure where to hold you.

So, you wrap your arms around his upper back, squeezing him gently as you sniffle into his shirt. The faint smell of books wafting from his clothes. In you, a chuckle escapes, finding the strange scent comforting. He copies the way you hold him. Taking to brush through your hair again. Detangling the long worn locks as he combs through, gently, lovingly.

He takes to laying his back against the couch's arm. Guiding you with as you lay on his chest. Staring up at the barren ceiling.

His hands continue to comb through your hair, stopping every now and then to pat it all back down from friction. His chest rising and slowly back down as you lie.

Slowly, you find yourself breathing alongside him, an occasional hiccup as the two of you lay quietly. Thinking about who knows what, but grateful the same.

He still smells like books, but you notice, a hint of woodland. Then, you notice how his fingers were long and nimble, combing through long sections of your hair with breeze. But the way he felt, lying underneath you, not a word to say more, felt domestic.

It made you feel alive again. It made you feel worth it.

He loved you.

He had said.

And you loved him.

Ever so tenderly, he turns your head up to him, your eyes finding each other's as they always did, so naturally, so full of love and a softness you had now come to realize had always been there. He lifts your face, turning it slightly as his eyes wander over all it's beauty. Archons, to him, you were beautiful.

To him, you were everything he needed.

He doesn't think before it happens.

Kissing you. Lips touching, just and warm and loving as his gaze on you. Sweet, brief.

He holds on, just a bit longer. Biting at your longer lip, nibbling. Pushing in, you return the favor. The taste of iron between the two of you. His arms snaking up behind your shoulders, pulling you down desperately as your legs turn into him, find their way around his hips. Desperately, you let loose for air.

"I love you." He says.

With a new found confidence, your heart beats faster. A grin on your lips as you mouth the same back.

Your lips find their way to his neck.

A groan leaves his mouth.

His legs buckle, hands pulling down your neck.

MEMORY OF AN ARCHON: Finale (will be posted soon)

BARISTA'S INQUIREMENT... hey guys!! merry christmas/happy holidays. I know I've been promising this one for a while and I had originally planned for more Christmassy content but... Life happens. I found myself revising and rushing at the end to post but I do hope everyone enjoys <3, there are a bunch of little secret messages/meanings I hid in here for interpretation! (my inbox is always open for speculation, questions,and discussion about fics!! )

word count. ~ 15k

tag list form !

©lilimalia... Please do not plagiarize, themes are edited by me, reblogs allowed, do not repost on any other platform!!

banner creds: to be added

[elitisim]

So happy international women's day y'all! I just dropped a [Huge Male Hair Set] less than a week ago so nothing too crazy for today just a little conversion of [Sheabuttyr's Foxxy Fro's Mini Set].

INFO:

None of this is my original work! All credit goes to @sheabuttyr!

Set contains 4 hairs for for Teen ➤ Elder Females.

1024x textures.

all these are gameplayy friendly, they average at about 10k poly.

Includes All Morphs, All LODS and is disabled for random.

Preview pictures, color channel breakdown, poly counts and individual download links for every hair is under the cut.

tagging: @pis3update, @naturalhair-sims3, @xto3conversionsfinds

[Download Merged]

[Download Unmerged]

[Pick and Choose]

@sheabuttyr: Alania Afro // 8.6k Poly // Download Here]

@sheabuttyr: Afridi Afro // 12.5k Poly // Download Here]

@sheabuttyr: Folae Fro // 7.4k Poly // Download Here]

@sheabuttyr: Forressa Fro// 10.1K Poly // Under hats // has bands at end of braids// 1 channel// [Download Here]

[mutualcombat]

oh my god why am i awake? why did i write this?

rating: explicit

pairing: astarion/afab!tav (adriannu :3 )

cw: 18+, parallel masturbation, astarion thinking hes being a dom but is mostly just being a creachurrr. worlds smallest reference to his trauma. also this is unedited if you see mistakes no you fuckin didnt (sorry) (set during act 2 btw)

preview:

The only thing he's laid on her tonight are his eyes, and still she yields. Obliges his whims like it's gospel.

What a wonder it is to desire again. Or to be desired.

"Will you, darling?" His ask his soft. Gentle. Demure. His voice melts into a whisper. Breathy. As if speaking the very words bring him overwhelming ecstasy. "Pleasure yourself for me?"

Even in the dark space of his tent, Astarion can see Adriannu's fingers move down her belly in a torturous crawl. He inhales sharply, and licks his lips as her hand sneaks through her pressed thighs. Splitting her fingers into a 'v', she draws them up her folds, then down and up again. Her little sigh of relief makes his ears fidget.

He can smell her arousal now. Taste it in the thick of the air. Hear it in the rushing of her blood. A cornucopia of sensual delight, spread out just for him and only on her offer.

"My, just look at you." Astarion leans back on his palms from where he sits at the edge of the leather trunk. He uncrosses his legs and unlaces his trousers to take his cock in hand, kneading the rosy, wet tip between his thumb and forefinger. He exhales; a reverent sigh. "Let me see what other talents those fingers have. "

Adriannu is panting. She's watching him in that strange, half lidded way, like he's an adversary she's sizing up for a fight.

Even so, she does as he instructs. Nude, on her back with her knees drawn up and pressing flush together -- Astarion nearly preens just watching her gingerly push a finger inside. She makes a strangled noise that sounds a lot like relief.

The only thing he's laid on her tonight are his eyes, and still she yields. Obliges his whims like it's gospel.

What a wonder it is to desire again. Or to be desired.

He couldn't stand the hands on him. The grabbing, the pushing. Fabric tearing. Skin bruising. Symptoms of twenty long decades of playing the object.

To actually want for someone that wants him in return... it excites him. Terrifies him. He's elated. Perplexed. Absolutely fucking clueless. He wants to pin Adriannu down and drag his cockhead over her clit until tears of raw pleasure bead at the corners of those strange, canid-like eyes.

The slick sounds of her cunt make his fingers flex, his cock twitch. His shallow breaths are a reflex, not a need. A habit from a time when he was just a man.

He bites the inside of his cheek as she pushes another finger in. Grinds her palm against clit while her fingers pump a slow, agonizing rhythm. Something delicious burns in his gut as he watches her drip over the linens of his bedroll. He knows he'll be burying his nose in it later, whimpering as he desperately knuckles the spot under his sack and rids himself of all the pent up release from this evening and the last.

"Just what are you thinking about over there?" It's Adriannu's amused voice that brings him to. Astarion blinks.

An intrusive, downright salacious thought worms it's way into his head -- tells him how good that smile of hers might look with a set of pristine fangs. A set to match his own.

His mouth goes dry. The hunger in him suddenly burns, and the fire threatens to smoke the beast in him right out into the open.

Across the tent, Adriannu's smile widens as she works herself. She's practically breathless. "I see that face--ah," something she does causes her hips to twitch. "Nasty, desperate creature you are..."

He's on her before she can react. Crawling up her body, cock in hand and practically dripping. His claws catch in the fibers of the bedding before he even realizes they're out.

Planting his knees on either side of her shoulders, Astarion straightens up and, tilting his head back, he gives his shaft a luxuriously slow pump from base to tip. "Maybe I'll show you just how nasty I can really be."

[blackwolfstabs]

Parker's Secret Santa Gifts🎄for @alkivm

ONE NORMAL NIGHT

In the heart of winter and in the dead of night, you and Wednesday share the woods.

fandom: Wednesday (2022) pairing: Wedesnday Addams × Fem!Vampire!Reader a/n: this is my 1st × reader ever so i'm feeling very insecure about it.. however, i wanted to do something up your alley, Alk. i also wanted to write from Wednesday because i knew writing something of Sam would be too predictable of me haha. anyways, i hope you enjoy!!

You slid into the partially dark dorm room that held your girlfriend’s strong scent. For someone as dark and mysterious as Wednesday, you never expected her to have a smell that was actually calming. However, this made it easier for you to find her. Being a vampire allowed you the same nose the werewolves had. Maybe even better, in your opinion…

Speaking of werewolves, Enid’s side of the room was the dark side, for once. She must’ve been out with her girl pack. This led you to immediately find Wednesday seated at her desk with a lit lamp as the clicking of the typewriter keys echoed off the walls. Her writing time, you presumed with a small smirk and shake of your head. It was part of her nightly routine. 

But you were looking for a night where they could just be with each other. It had snowed all day, but with the dark that you both adored, came clear skies and moonlight that made the snow sparkle. Wednesday, of course, didn’t care for sparkly things, but you hadn’t seen anything more vintage in decades. And you wanted to share that with her.

You wanted one normal night.

She never stopped typing, her black eyes undivided, but there was something about the way her shoulders braced that told you that she knew you were there. So, you approached her, but before you could speak, she did.

“What is it, Y/N?” she asked flatly. “You know this is my—”

“Yes, yes, I know. This is your writing time,” you cut her off as you stopped behind her chair and leaned against it. “I was thinking… maybe we could take a walk through the woods? We’ve been shut indoors all day because of the snowfall, and the moon is rather beautiful tonight.” You heard her give a short huff, which encouraged you to follow up with, “Almost as beautiful as you…”

Wednesday scoffed as she felt you lean down and kiss her cheek. You had just been outside, on your way over, so your lips were cold against her warm skin. It made her pull away slightly, “Oh, please, your pick-up lines are aging on me.” But even she had her own jokes to turn around on you, and she glanced up to tease, “Almost as much as you.”

To be fair, you did not see that coming as you looked away in mock offense. “You've been waiting to spring that one on me, haven’t you?”

She shrugged and went back to her writing, “Not really. You just fell into the trap.”

“Sly psychic,” you rolled your eyes.

“Dumb vampire.”

God, the way she just threw back words in any situation that made her charisma grow had your vampire instincts tingling. It made you frisky and longing for a hunt. However, if Wednesday followed your lead, you could take the thirst just to have one night with her. “Please?” you hated to beg, yet here you were doing it for her. “Can’t you spare one day of cutting your writing time short?”

Your borderline-desperate tone made her give a small smirk, and that gave you a little bit of hope. You had other plans for that night anyway, so you would make sure she’d show her side of the duality you had gotten the pleasure to know.

“Let me finish this paragraph,” she eventually gave in. 

You let her do so without trouble, pacing around the room like a caged tiger while you waited. And then she stood up from her chair and turned around to catch you looking at her.

“You’ve got the patience of a saint.” The sarcasm was thick in her flat tone.

You just shrugged and nodded to the tunic-length jacket that was lying on her bed, “That should be warm enough for you.”

The raven gave you an uncertain look as she went to retrieve it and slip it on. “Sometimes, I think you forget that I’m not a vampire,” she commented, clearly not convinced one jacket would keep her warm in the snowy wilderness.

“Never,” you assured her. When she turned around and approached you with her dark eyes trying to figure out the million thoughts behind your glowing ones, you gave her a wink. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll keep you warm.” 

She didn’t look convinced. “I’m thrilled.” Then again, she never did.

You never took that personally from her. After all, she was the one to insinuate a relationship that was more than friends. She had even stolen the first kiss between you two. As uninterested as she tried to seem, you knew she was curious about what you had in mind. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have followed you out.

The bitter cold of the winter night suited you just fine as you stepped out of the heated indoors and shook your head out to relish the chilly freedom. You sighed in delight, before looking over your shoulder to see Wednesday pacing up next to you. 

She blinked unsteadily, the breeze stinging her eyes and cheeks as her bangs were swept aside. She crossed her arms and hugged them against her chest. “It had to be tonight?”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, come on, Wednesday, it’s not that bad!” You gave her a playful nudge. “You just need to get that warm blood pumping,” you then teased, your breed leaving you immune to the freeze.

She just growled in annoyance, which made you decide to take the first step—well, more like the second step now… “So, try and keep up,” you told her, then raced away into the woods.

It must have caught her off-guard, because she immediately followed hot in pursuit. “Y/N!” It was like she hadn’t even thought about the fact that she was rushing into a game of Tag, like it was a mindless effort that sent her after you.

Her calls made you run faster, weaving through the trees like a trained dog in agility, and you let out a triumphant howl that sent the crows scattering into the night sky. In return, you actually got a few calls back from the werewolves scouting the forest as well. “Hey, Wednesday!” you hollered over your shoulder, “you think one of those is your roommate?!”

You could hear your girlfriend’s panting grow louder as she flanked you a few yards back. “No!” she answered, “Enid wouldn’t be caught dead in this kind of cold!”

“But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?!” Being an Addams gave you so much freedom to joke about death, considering you were already dead inside. It was meant to be.

“Not tonight, Y/N!”

You just laughed and raced on, filing deeper and farther into the world of forestry that almost shielded the moonlight. The wind seemed to be going 100 miles per hour against your skin, making a million scents bathe your tongue every time you breathed in. 

And then the scent of fur and fresh-kill caught your senses. You were gaining too close to the werewolves, so you figured this was a good place to stop.

Wednesday, on the other hand, didn’t have as keen a sense of smell, which kept her racing on. She couldn’t see you anymore, but she had done that dance before. The amount of times she’d run through this very forest was unimaginable, especially with a destination known or unknown in mind. She wasn’t afraid of running through the dark; however, the crisp cold air was taking a toll on her lungs. She called out for you, slowing down to catch her breath. “Y/N?!”

Compared to the way she’d sounded a few minutes ago, back at the dorm, she wasn’t so uptight about everything. And that was where you wanted her.

The raven slowed all the way, when she didn’t receive a response from you. She glanced around as she trotted forward. “Y/N?” Her panting was silenced among the breeze and so was your movement in the low branch of the nearest tree.

When she passed it, you grabbed her arm and pulled it towards the trunk. She yelped and spun around, yanking her arm away to look up and meet your golden eyes. “Sorry,” you giggled, releasing her to comb your wind-tossed hair back with one hand. 

Her voice went back to its natural, monotoned-self. “Why are you in a tree?”

“We’re too close to the werewolves,” you nearly whispered the explanation. Then, you held your hand out to her. “Come on, I’ll help you up.” 

The gold shimmer in your eyes struck the lightest reflection in hers as she took it and let you pull half of her weight up onto the same branch.

You knew she wasn’t the most comfortable person with heights without being guarded by some sort of railing, so you made sure she was steady before you continued to lead the way up. Being a vampire, your agility and strength were reliable. You could weave quicker through the limbs. And once you reached almost ¾-ths of the way up, you crouched to check on your girlfriend.

Despite her size and normal human strength, she actually kept up well, only being a few branches below. However, being the lady vampire you were, you had lived for a few centuries. So, chivalry was definitely not dead in your era, just evolved out of the strictly-male ideals. “Wednesday!” She paused her climbing to glance up at you, which made you hold your hand out to her again. “I got you.” The cold must have been biting at her because she grabbed your hand with no hesitation, and you lifted her up, wrapping one arm around her waist to safely bring her to your level. 

She wouldn’t admit it, but the raven was relieved that you had the decency to allow her to be closest to the tree trunk. She glanced down, almost nervously, but left it undetectable as she asked, “Is there any reason why you insist on being so high up?”

“No one can see us from up here.” 

She shifted skeptically. 

“I thought you liked being uncomfortable,” you smirked. You caught the way she curved her fingers into the bark, threatening to clutch it if the branch that held them teased a crack or two.

Wednesday gave a slightly flustered sigh. “The last time I was in a tree, things didn’t go so well.” When she looked your way again, the moon light dappling through the trees made her eyes show a shade of brown that wasn’t common in her natural aesthetic. 

It took some of the frost away from the cold that you didn’t realize you could feel until that deep gaze met yours. Her frame looked even smaller as she backed up to secure herself against the trunk, which you knew she did to brace herself in case anything happened. You softened your voice as you moved closer to her. “I won’t let you fall,” the words came so naturally, it was almost considered pure.

She blinked at you. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Y/N…” 

You stopped a short distance from her, close enough to see what she hoped you wouldn’t: her desire for comfort. You slid one hand around her waist and the other over her cheek to block the winter breeze. “Here’s my promise,” you whispered, then pulled her into a gentle kiss.

To your surprise, she fell into it instantly, almost as if she was thinking of the same thing. She must have felt secure in your arms, for she then put her arms around your torso. And through the kiss, you smiled. 

She pulled away. “Is that all you got?” she tested you, looking away and over your shoulder to bait you into moving elsewhere than her lips.

You took in a deep breath, and her scent was so strong that you could almost taste her… You felt your golden gaze start to burn and your mouth start to salivate. There was a surge of power that entwined your bloodstream, and the thrill to drink made you stare at her open neck. Well… almost open. “Are you teasing me, Ms. Addams?” you asked her as you dipped your head towards the crook of her neck and nosed her braid over her shoulder, fully exposing her warm skin. 

“Bite me, Y/LN,” she almost purred into your ear. It was supposed to be a tease, but it came out more as a command.

But it was your pleasure, regardless. “Not until we’re in bed, my cold-hearted darling,” you replied, then pressed your lips to her neck. It was hard not to bite her right now. Just a little taste of that sweet drink that came out of the most savage student in Nevermore Academy would have sufficed. But you wouldn’t. Not now. For now, you forced yourself to only kiss and suckle her skin in a slow trail down her neck, but you did manage to let your fangs nip her every now and then.

All the while, Wednesday laid her head on your shoulder, sighing through the treatment with small moans, while her black nails curled into your spine when your fangs would catch her soft skin. 

It was the perfect mix of Heaven and Hell.

It was angelic and demonic.

It was sweet and stubborn.

It was you and Wednesday…

On this one normal night.

merry christmas/happy holidays alk! i hope this made you smile and i'm wishing you a very pleasureable rest of the season. thank you for being such a supportive friend 🎄✨🎁

- parker (BWS)

[simplyholl]

A Gift For A God

Pairing: Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18 + ONLY. Minors DNI.

See My Masterlist Here

This is a gift for @fandxmslxt69 ❤️❤️❤️ for @fictive-sl0th Secret Santa 2023!

You sigh as you walk out of the sixth store today. You had been Christmas shopping for your boyfriend, Loki. But, you weren’t having any luck. What do you get a god who has everything? He was used to the finest fabrics on Asgard so he was picky about his clothes. You couldn’t afford the super nice brands he was accustomed to.

You thought about buying him more books, but he had so many there was hardly any space left for them in his room. The bookshelf was filled and overflowing. You voiced your concerns about what to get him, and he assured you that you didn’t have to get him anything. “All I want is you, my love.” He said while kissing each of your knuckles the night before.

You load the gifts you bought for your family into your car, looking at the other stores in the shopping center. You needed to run into the craft store for your sister’s gift. She had taken up sewing recently, so you thought you would get her some fabric.

You walk through the aisles, hoping something would catch your eye. When you reached the fabrics, you chose a few that your sister would like. You look on the opposite shelf, feeling the different textures. You stop immediately when you find a silky red one. You had the perfect idea.

You lay on Loki’s bed, fidgeting with the blanket. It wasn’t often you could surprise him. He usually knew you were up to something before you could act on it. This time, he didn’t have a clue. You could hear his footsteps echoing in the hallway as he walked to his room. You couldn’t wait for him to come in and find you.

The door creaks open. His heavy boots thump against the floor. Thud. You squeeze your legs together to quell the throbbing but it’s no use. Arousal pools against the smooth fabric. Thud. Your heart beats faster as he gets closer. Thud. You try your best to stay in the sexy position you’ve posed yourself in, on your back with your hair splayed across his pillows.

The light in his bedroom comes on illuminating you on his bed. Loki lifts his brow, his eyes darkening as he notices you. “What have we here?” He asks, walking painfully slow toward you. When he finally reaches the bed, he doesn’t bother taking off his fighting leathers first. He kneels beside you, his weight causing the mattress to dip under him. “You said all you wanted for Christmas was me, and here I am.”

“Here you are.” He purrs, pushing his long hair behind his ears. He reaches out to toy with the bow holding your breasts within. An amused expression crosses his face as he runs a long finger from the loops on the bow to the small piece that barely covers your aching nipples.

His digit stills as it lands on the sensitive nub. You whimper, as he removes his hands from you. He hovers, admiring your beautiful body wrapped up perfectly for him. The long piece that connects your chest to your ass barely covers anything. Loki’s gaze holds on that spot for a moment. You don’t think anything of it, until he nudges your legs apart with his leather clad thigh.

“You’re soaked already, darling.” He smirks, reaching down to swipe at your core. His finger dips underneath the ribbon, collecting your arousal. He brings it to his lips, savoring your taste. He releases his finger with a loud pop. You squirm, wishing it was you in his mouth, not his finger.

He captures your lips in a sweet a kiss, and you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. Loki scatters kisses along your jaw line, down your neck. His teeth nip your collar bone, and you arch toward him. “This is the best gift I have ever received, my love. Perhaps I’ll take my time opening it.”

He palms your breasts gently, careful not to reveal your nipples. You press them against his rough hands, hoping he would give in. Finally, he rolls one between two fingers, the silky ribbon rubbing deliciously against you.

Loki lowers his head, his black curls fanning against your arms. He takes a hardened peak between his lips. His warm tongue flicks against the fabric, making you squirm. “Loki, please?” You whine, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He pinches the smooth fabric, playing with the bow. Slowly, he pulls it apart, leaving your chest bare before him. He removes the rest of your makeshift lingerie, spreading your legs. He admires you before burying his face between your thighs. His firm, velvet tongue strokes you slowly. You buck your hips, trying to get him to go faster.

It’s no use, his arm traps you, holding you down. Loki works your clit with the flat of his tongue until you are a whimpering mess. You cry out his name as he seals his lips on the most sensitive part of you, sucking roughly. You come apart underneath him, thighs gripping his head, holding him in place.

Loki doesn’t bother taking off his clothes, he removes himself from his pants, pushing them down his hips just a little. He lines himself up at your entrance, pushing into you slowly. You lock your legs around him, pulling him toward you.

He groans as he sinks deeper into you. He buries his head against your shoulder, lips latched onto your throat. He draws the delicate skin between his lips. Your legs tremble around him as you feel another orgasm building.

Your nipples graze the leather top as he lifts your leg, rocking into you with hard, deep thrusts. You clench around him. He rewards you with a growl that rips from his chest. His teeth scrape against your shoulder.

You grip his arms, incoherent cries escape you as your orgasm barrels through you. He grips your hips tighter, thrusting wildly. Loki bites down on your shoulder as he finishes inside you. You shiver, you love it when he marks you.

He rubs his nose against yours, locking eyes with you. “I love you more than you could ever know.” He confesses as you lazily play with his hair, bringing his mouth to yours. He holds you in his strong arms, telling you how much he loves you, and how proud of you he is. You smile, thanking the powers that be for blessing you with Loki. Every day feels like Christmas morning with him.

Secret Santa 2023 taglist: @joyful-enchantress @mochie85 @muddyorbs @holdmytesseract @sailorholly @lady-rose-moon @superficialdomina @cultofcarter @coldnique @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @quirkiest-turtle @glitchquake @nyxlaufeyson @fandxmsIxt69 @holymultiplefandomsbatman

My Taglist

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[natalie-inkx]

So this is the project I have been doing for the past month! I made some people custom bleach T-shirts for Christmas gifts! They went down so well and I have been asked to do some more!

[wardenparker]

At the Ballet

Joel Miller x female reader A PedroStories Secret Santa Gift!

Rating: General audience, but please remember that this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: Cursing, one that got away, slight angst from yearning. Summary: When Tommy's girlfriend gets tickets to the ballet, Sarah is excited to attend. But Joel never could have expected who he would find there, or that he would find himself grateful for a night at at the ballet. Notes: Happy PedroStories Secret Santa 2024 to @pascalispretty! I hope your holiday season is lovely and bright, and that you enjoy your story! Swan Lake was one of the first ballets I ever saw, so that really stuck in my mind, and I loved the idea of Joel finding his way to the arts because Sarah loves them.

“I don’t understand why the hell we’re doing this.” Joel grumbled, inspecting himself in the mirror as Tommy tossed his well-loved plaid flannel back onto the bed and put a sports jacket into his hands instead.

“Because she’s my girlfriend.” Tommy reminded him for the fourteen time.

“Okay, fine.” Joel huffed. He rolled his eyes at the jacket and hung it on the nearest piece of furniture, wondering if he even had a clean button-down shirt in his closet. “I don’t understand why I’m doing this.”

“Because you’re my fucking brother.” Tommy shot back. He’s actually got a real tie on, not a clip on or a bolo, and he’s trying so damn hard for this girl. “And because Sarah is excited to go. So finish getting dressed, you grumpy ass, and I’ll buy you a drink at the theater.”

“You should have led with that.” He’s busting his brother’s chops, but it’s worth doing. Tommy’s girlfriend has been around long enough that she’s been introduced to Sarah and started coming over for dinner semi-regularly, and she had somehow gotten ahold of four tickets to the ballet. Sarah had been thrilled at the news and immediately started planning what she was going to wear and begging her Dad and uncle to take them all out to dinner as well.

And, well, Joel Miller has never been able to deny his daughter anything in the world.

It’s with that in mind that Joel is begrudgingly cleaning himself up tonight. Because his little girl is down the hall putting on a dressed and doing her hair, and she looked so damn much like her mother when he had passed her room earlier that it had made his heart ache. Anything for Sarah. Anything at all.

Ballet Austin is a little bit of a drive away since they live on the edge of the city, but he doesn’t mind. Of anything, Joel actually does like driving. It gives him a sense of peace. Or at least it usually does – right now Sarah, Tommy, and Tommy’s girlfriend Sonja are chatting animatedly about the show that they are all going to see. Swan Lake apparently has a hard plot to follow, if he’s overhearing this right. Or maybe it’s just that ballets have no dialogue. Either way, he doesn’t really care. He’s going for all of them to enjoy themselves, not to understand what the hell is going on onstage.

At least, that was what he thought.

He had never expected to open the program in his seat and see you there. Clear as day, though, your photograph and name with the character name Odile were listed right there on the page listing principal dancers.

Suddenly, Joel is the biggest ballet convert in the world.

There is plenty of good reason for it, though. More than just being you, the dancing is gorgeous. Not that he doesn’t remember what a good dancer you were when you were younger. Teaching him how not to embarrass himself at the homecoming dance. Doing the choreography from Footloose and goofing off instead of playing whatever sport was supposed to be the assignment in gym class.

He knew you had taken dance classes, but he had never really bothered to find out more. To ask what kind. To pay some damn attention and get to know you better. He should have been so much better. He knew it even then, which is why he could do nothing but kick himself in the pants when Alex Draper asked you out at the beginning of junior year of high school before he could summon up the courage.

That was the year Sarah’s mother had moved to town, and he had started dating the new girl instead. The whole thing stank of what might have been.

******

Sarah begs Joel to take her to the stage door after the show, hoping to meet some of the dancers and tell them how amazing their performance was. She’s always liked theater and this wouldn’t be the first time that he took her to a stage door, but the chance that he might run into you has him smoothing his shirt and straightening his tie and practically thanking Tommy for forcing him to dress nicely.

“What’s got Joel so self-conscious?” Sonja whispered from the top of the alley where she and Tommy waited and cuddled in the dim streetlight.

“You accidentally managed to lead him right to the first girl he ever loved.” Tommy whispers back, chuckling quietly into her shoulder as he leaves a kiss on her neck. “One of the dancers that Sarah wants to meet so desperately.”

“And we’re back here?” Sonja huffs. She smirks and nudges Tommy, obviously trying to point him down the alley. “Joel Miller as a boy in love? I gotta see this.”

Sarah is, in point of fact, the only fan at this stage door tonight. And while Joel hates that on principle because it means that she doesn’t really have anyone to share her unbridled enthusiasm with, he’s also glad. Her presence there is delighting the dancers and every single one of them is stopping to sign her program and take a photo with her, all of them giving her a big hug in the process.

The young woman who danced Odette is lingering, seemingly waiting for something or someone, or maybe just enjoying the attention, when the stage door opens again, and you walk through.

“Sweetie, come over here!” Odette calls, waving you over. This is what she was waiting for, apparently, and her smile beams as she introduces young Sarah Miller to the dancer she became so enamored with during the show.

It really isn’t too often that you’re asked to sign programs, and you are beyond flattered to have Sarah ask for an autograph and a photo. You stand and chat with the young teen for a few minutes before even registering that she is young enough that she should have chaperones nearby, and that is when you look up to find him staring at you.

“Joel?” It has been almost fifteen years since you saw him last. Since your high school graduation day. But you would still recognize him anywhere.

“Hey.” His hands are in his pockets, but he still has that lopsided grin and perfect single dimple that made all the girls swoon. He still aims it like a weapon, always able to make the whoever he was talking to feel like the only person in the room.

“Hey yourself.” The warmth in your cheeks is unmistakable, and for good reason. Joel Miller didn’t just grow up good, he grew up damn sexy.

“Dad, you know her?” Sarah wheels around with a bright, excited look on her face.

“Dad?” Your eyebrow is raised, but you do remember hearing about Joel getting married shortly after high school, and something vague about him having a kid. Your mother had given you the news she heard while out grocery shopping one day. Just the same way that she had given you the news a year or two later when that same habit of grocery store eavesdropping yielded the news that Joel was now single again after a nasty divorce.

“This is my daughter, Sarah.” He introduces her proudly, both hands on her shoulders and a puffed up chest saying more than simple words ever could about how much he adores his little girl. He introduces you to Sarah next, explaining you used to be friends in school. “She—we— really loved the show tonight.”

“Well, thank you. Everyone in the cast is just incredible.”

“Yeah, you are!” Sarah chirps, her eyes wide as she looks between you and her father. “Dad! You should invite your friend to come have ice cream with us!”

Joel’s smile grows, tucking into the corner of his mouth like a secret, but he lobs that fastball of an offer back to you politely. “I’m sure she has other things to do tonight, honey. Maybe another time, sweetie.” He doesn’t want to say no. He can feel his heart hammering out of his chest and he wonders how you managed to get even more beautiful when you were already the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his whole life.

Looking back to your friends, you lend them a quick smile before facing Joel again and shaking your head. “Not at all,” you tell him – both of them, technically. “Free as a bird.”

Your smile grows, and Sarah matches it. “Free as a swan,” she insists.

“Right.” Joel joins in that laugh, air rushing out of his chest as he gets nervous all over again. “Free as a swan.”

He’s not going to fuck it up this time. He’s not. He’s not going to let you slip through his fingers a second time…

[greenandsorrow]

Can I ask for an obscenity with Alastor in the nun outfit he wore when he fought with Lucefer... Female reader if possible

AN OBSCENE FAITH

nun!Alastor x fem!sinner!reader

Warnings: adult content, graphic/explicit descriptions, consensual chaos, no plot just porn, bodily fluids, horniness, low-key public setting, corruption kink, spanking, creampie, just an overall filthiness, switch!Al, switch!reader, possessiveness, Alastor's shadow

💜 I'm an orthodox Christian, so I didn't go ALL out when it comes to using religious themes as a kink (ex. that's why I used the word 'chapel' and not 'church' and also didn't mention any crucifixes or rosemaries). That being said, I don't think it's lacking in kinkiness at all... See for yourselves and let me know! 💜

The chapel is quiet, the kind of silence that demands reverence... or indulgence. Flickering candlelight carves long shadows on the walls, but your focus isn't on the setting around you. It's on him.

It isn't every day that you find yourself in an abandoned chapel with Alastor... Especially not when he is wearing that outfit.

Alastor stands by the chapel's altar. He's clad in a nun's habit that clings to his tall, lean and wiry silhouette like second skin. The white collar frames his pale face, his ever-present grin twisted into something darker -something predatory.

As he tilts his head, you can see the exaggerated innocence in his expression -as if he hasn't planned this just to make you squirm.

"Oh, my dear" he drawls, voice dripping with mock sympathy.

"Do you think you're prepared to repent?"

You bite your lip and nod, trying not to let him see how affected you already are... But Alastor, being Alastor, can read you like an open book.

"Now, now" he whispers as he moves closer and closer, each step echoing in the empty chapel.

"You know it is a sin to lie, don't you?"

The long, flowing skirt swishes as he approaches you, but before you have time to register his new proximity, two gloved hands start trailing down your arms -featherlight touches that leave shivers in their wake.

The tension is electric and also amplified by his obvious delight in the whole charade.

Your breath hitches when he presses a hand against your lower back, guiding you toward the altar. The cold stone at your back contrasts with the warmth radiating from him.

He pauses. Then he leans down, lips hovering just by the shell of your ear, breath hot against your skin.

"Perhaps" he muses, "I should help you see the… error of your ways."

Your pulse quickens dangerously as Alastor closes the gap between you, pressing against you while both his hands come to rest on hips. His grin broadens, eyes narrowing with that familiar spark of wickedness and mischief.

"Let's see, my dear..." he murmurs, his voice taking on a playful edge, "Are you nervous? Or just… excited?"

His gloved fingers trace your collarbone, slipping down to rest just over where your heart is. The fabric of the glove -smooth and cool- presses firmly against your skin, while his gaze flicks up to meet yours with an intensity that nearly steals your breath away.

"You're shaking" he notes, amber eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "How delightful."

You scoff, hoping to mask the way he makes your heart race uncontrollably.

"And here I thought you were supposed to be the virtuous one."

Alastor's laugh is rich and dark. He liked that little statement quite a lot.

The roleplaying is fun, but he's getting a bit impatient... Not that he's going to let it show. No, no, no.

"Confess."

Damn, you were looking forward to this.

On your knees before him, you press your palms together and look up at him through your eyelashes.

"Forgive me, Father..." you whisper, trembling with anticipation you can barely contain. "...for I have sinned.

Alastor chuckles, crouching until his face is perfectly level with yours. His hand slides beneath your chin in a smooth motion, tilting your face upward so you have no choice but to meet his gaze.

"Oh, darling" he purs, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "Sin doesn't frighten me. In fact, I'd say I encourage sin!"

His smile stretches wider -if that's even possible. "Now, tell me... What exactly have you done?"

You open your mouth, but no words come. Instead you lean into his touch, lips parting as his thumb presses past them. Your tongue swirls, tastes, explores, the sensation earning a soft hum of approval from him.

"That's a good girl" he murmurs, withdrawing his hand slowly and deliberately, like he doesn't really want the moment to end. You did leave a lipstick stain on the glove, which makes you oddly proud.

"But I think you've been bad enough to warrant a little... punishment. Hm?"

Before you can react, he drags you to your feet, spinning you to face the altar.

His hands waste no time whatsoever, tearing your dress over your head and leaving you bare. The cool air of the chapel makes your overheated skin prickle, but nothing compares to the sharp sting of his palm as it strikes your ass.

"You dare to stand here like this...", he hisses in a voice that's dripping with mock indignation, "in a place of worship, no less, without the common decency of putting on underwear? Shameless, filthy slut."

You gasp as another sharp smack rings through the room, your body jerking helplessly against the altar.

"I-"

"No excuses." he cuts you off, his hand smoothing over the reddened skin he's just punished. Meanwhile, his other hand finds its way between your thighs, sliding effortlessly through the wetness there.

"This is what you came here for, isn't it? To be debased?"

"Y- Yes..." you whimper, the word tumbling from your lips before you can stop it.

"Say. It. Louder." Alastor's gloved fingers still, hovering just where you currently need them the most.

"Yes" you moan, your voice rising. "I want this- I want you."

A growl rumbles low in his chest as he slides two fingers into you. His pace quickly becomes unrelenting, every curl and thrust designed to unravel you completely.

"Look at you" he taunts, withdrawing his fingers and holding them up, glistening with your wet arousal. "So needy. So eager to pay for your sins."

Once again, there's barely any time to process his words... before he frees himself from the confines of his habit. The sight of his cock -thick, slightly curved upward, flushed and already dripping- makes your knees buckle.

But he's not done teasing.

"Do you see this?" he asks, gripping the base of his cock as he presses the mushroom tip against your folds, dragging it up and down but never quite pushing in. "This is your reward. But only if you beg for it."

You let out a choked moan, writhing against him.

"Please" you gasp. "Please, Alastor. I need you. I need you to ruin me."

"Oh, you're so convincing!" he mocks, but the rasp in his voice betrays his own growing desire.

Finally, he thrusts into you, filling you completely in one devastating motion. Your body arches against him, a strangled sound ripping from your throat as he sets a brutal, unyielding pace.

"You take me so well" he growls, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks. "Like you were made for this. Made for me."

His words only encourage you more, your body moving in sync with his now. The slick, obscene sounds of your deed echo through the chapel, mingling with the faint creak of wood beneath you.

The expression behind his eyes is sharp and feral as his shadow comes to life, slithering across the room. You feel the darkness around your wrists, squeezing them and guiding them behind your back. The demon's voice is a velvety purr in your ear, taunting you as he slows down his thrusts.

"Oh my goodness... Let's see how much you can take."

The shadow dissolves and his movements start becoming faster again.

Alastor starts leaning over you, until his chest presses against the valley of your back. One hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head up to force your gaze forward. "Look at the altar. Look at what you've defiled."

You can barely think, let alone obey, but your gaze does its best to focus on what he's fucking you on.

"You're mine" he growls, his other hand sliding down to grip your throat. The pressure is just enough to heighten your sensations without blocking your breathing.

"Say it."

"I'm yours" you gasp, the words tumbling out willingly. "Only yours."

The slight restriction you feel at his long fingers around the column of your neck -paired with the significant pressure of his cock- has you reeling, the tight coil in your belly snapping as your climax crashes over you. Your filthy cries fill the chapel, raw and unrestrained.

Not only that, but the way your pussy muscles clench around him send Alastor over the edge with you.

With an animalistic groan, he buries himself as deep as he can go inside you, spilling his release in hot, pulsing waves. The warmth of it makes you mewl, but his grip on you doesn't falter even at this moment.

For a bit, the two of you stay like this, bodies trembling as you try to catch your breaths. Then, with a low chuckle, Alastor withdraws, adjusting his habit as though nothing happened.

"You're a mess" he proceeds to say, his grin as sharp as ever. "But what a sinfully beautiful mess you are."

You huff, pulling your dress back on with shaky hands. "You're impossible."

"And you adore it, sugar" he replies.

"Shall we continue this... little charade next week?"

You smirk, your legs still unsteady as you head for the door. "Only if you're ready to confess your own sins, Alastor."

His laughter follows you all the way out.

Um... Justify my sins 🤧 -> PayPal link

🔮Hazbin Hotel masterlist🔮

This work is part of the nymph's daily gifts! 💜

Dividers by @saradika-graphics.

[pursuitseternal]

✨⚡️ “Magical” ✨⚡️

Act 3 UA Astarion x f!Reader | E | 2.6 K

🎨 by @marimosalad | A gift for @nyx-knox 🎈

Summary: Lost in the vault of Sorcerers’ Sundries, you and your Vampire are trapped, not just in the maze of rooms, but by your many unspoken feelings. It’s time to get free

CW: Implied break up with Gale, act 3 romance AU, Yearning and pining and feelings oh my, unrequited love, angst with a happy ending, biting feeding, first time as a couple, vaginal sex, creampie

Ao3 Link | Astarion Fic Masterlist

“Fucking hells, we’ve been here before!” that usual silken voice cracks with pissed off frustration.

Not that you blame him. Every room in this vault looks the fucking same. Sorcerers’ Sundries. Of course every g would be magically complicated.

“It might be…” you waver in your confidence. “Ugh, if only Gale hadn’t hurried ahead,” it pains you to say, to even mention your… well, your former lover.

“It’s his fucking fault we are in this mess,” Astarion huffs, cocking his hips as he scans the room. You can tell, it’s a forced air of calm. A thin veneer of that charm and fuck-all attitude you have grown increasingly dependent upon, especially with your mending heart.

Gale’s blind pursuit of ambition, of showing Mystra he was, in fact, worthy, had grown too much for your relationship to bear. So, days ago, you had ended it. Even still, you had to take him here to find the Annals of Karsus. At least Astarion had volunteered to stay by your side. His carefree approach to his problems had soothed your nerves… until you had learned more about his past, those details that had slipped past you, back when Gale had been your world. The vampire’s hunger, his suffering, his Master, his scars… his abuse.

And then, last night, his so-called siblings had come in the night. You won’t ever forget the way you woke to find Astarion prowling between you and their glowing red eyes. Protecting you. It was after fighting them off that something had… shifted in your companionship.

Since then, he had been your shadow, never more than a step away from you. Those crimson eyes always keeping you in their sights, or at least his periphery. And then, once the party got split in this labyrinthine mess of doors and trapped rooms, you were immeasurably thankful for his vigilance.

But it still means you are now lost in a room of glowing walls and identical doors.

Astarion snarls, fangs bared. “Why can’t I just stab something and get us out of here!” He is exasperated, and perhaps a bit… trapped.

You see it in the way his neck muscles strain, the way his chest rises and falls faster even if he doesn’t need to breathe.

“Astarion,” you speak softly, your voices bouncing strangely around in the glowing walls. You can feel the very foundations of this vault built with magic, it’s in the air, in your lungs, and in your fingers. Made from the Weave itself. It calls to your sorcery, your magic.

He looks… almost helpless, those wide wet eyes that scan the glowing walls, the sweat that clings to his face.

“Astarion, speak to me,” you say gently. “It’s alright, we will find our way out, get back to the others.”

Astarion rounds on you, chest heaving as something snaps into place… or is it out of place. “Yes I’m sure you’re most eager to get back to the others… some unfulfilled need to yet prove yourself to Gale, darling? Hearts are far more fragile than necks,” he sneers, walking into the next room through a random door. You, heart aching at the accusation and mention of your old flame, hurry after him.

It’s a large, octangular room, a chest on one side, display cases all around, shelves of scrolls all just waiting to be looted. But Astarion freezes, eyes vacant as he looks in disbelief. “I really thought this was the way back… that we’d get out of this maze from the hells…”

“Astarion, what’s wrong?” You speak softly, drawing up and touching his arm. “Maybe…. Would blood help?” you ask, quivering on the inside and shaking on the out as you pull at the forest green collar of your shirt. “Tell me how to help you,” you watch as his crimson gaze darts over you until they look into your eyes. Then, he settles on your vein, and you can almost hear him counting your heartbeats without the tadpole connecting your brains.

You laugh gently. “It’s been a few nights since you asked or I offered to feed you…”

“I mean… I didn’t want to intrude. You’ve had a lot going on,” his voice sounds dry, his jaw clenching as you know he fights the hunger he struggles with daily.

“And you haven’t?” You tease, gently and carefully making mention of the night's events. “What I went through pales in comparison. Gale and I,” you give an aggrieved sigh. “I only wish I hadn’t given him as much as I did just to get him to see that he doesn’t need this crown, he doesn’t need to defy Mystra when he has me.” You pause, chewing your lip. “Had… me.”

You look into his face, those firm lines don’t smile, his gaze is guarded and… for once you see his mouth still. He’s listening carefully, not quipping or flirting or smiling.

“I’m… I’m glad to be done with Gale in that way. Now I can just take my heart out of the mess and help him find this book.” You chew your lip again, those scarlet eyes darting from your gaze the instant your mouth worries on itself to watch.

But you keep talking. “Your strife is so much bigger, lest we forget that your siblings made a mess in our rooms… I’m glad we could stave them off and…” you keep biting your lip, dropping your gaze to the weird glowing pink floor, hesitating to say the next thing on your mind, “you told me about what it was like for you as his spawn… about that year you spent in the coffin. It’s no wonder you’re a bit frantic in here, feeling trapped…”

You feel cool air on your neck first, his body drawing up behind you. Lips press on your vein then suck it to the surface. “I think I will indulge if you offered,” he says the words so quickly, it’s hard to make them out.

There is then, the icy breaking of your skin as he bites. A gasp slips from your lips, and you’re almost dead certain his bite is harder this time just to shut you up.

But it doesn’t matter. Not the way your body instantly shivers with repressed pleasure as his lips pull your crimson, as his hands grip your shoulders back against him so you don’t squirm out of reach.

“Darling,” he breathes, and that familiar moniker sounds more… pleading. “I’ve been trapped for longer than you’ve seen…” You feel his hands tighten on your arms for a moment, then loosen… then roam up and down them.

You know he can taste it, hear it. The way your heart just jumped into your throat and the way your belly just lurched like you almost fell headlong over a cliff.

“T-trapped?” you clench your hands to keep them from shaking.

“Oh yes, and it’s your fault, you know,” his lips lift from your wounds to press bloodied kisses along your shoulder. “I’ve watched you and the wizard, my eyes following your every move, as your eyes followed his. I watched as your magics wove together, only to sunder apart now. At first, I didn’t care…”

He trailed off, moving his mouth to caress your other shoulder, nipping, not biting, the sensitive places near your short-pointed ear.

“But the more you still cared for me, even though you and I were not…”

“Romantic?” You guess.

“Fucking,” he corrects with a slow, deep-bellied chuckle.

That word makes your body jolt out of control again, your own magic almost sizzling in your veins.

His laughter crescendo. “So, you see, I’ve been trapped for a long while now. Watching you… waiting for you to care just a little more. Waiting for you to see yourself as worth more than being the next-best-thing that wizard could hope for. You’re too good for that, too powerful for that.”

Gripping your waist, he spins you, and the hunger in his eyes makes you shiver, even as your blood is smeared from feeding. “Do… you still feel trapped?” you whisper, voice rough in your throat. As your gaze darts to his red and sticky lips. You wonder how you taste…

“Do you? Feel trapped that is?” he purrs down at you, hands winding to your back to pull you flush against him.

“No, I feel free,” you swiftly reply, standing on your tippy toes to kiss those conceited lips. You taste metal, your blood is sticky and a bit sweet, but he barely lets the taste register before his tongue floods your mouth with it. Those movements of his mouth are familiar, nearly the same that have fed on you nightly on the road, but now… now they are transcendent.

You move your lips to match his, your tongue dueling with him until your head grows light. Vampires don’t need to breathe, and he knows it. It’s dizzying the way he consumes you, fierce and demanding. Like a starved man at a banquet.

Light headed, your knees buckle, and instantly his hands lock firmly to support you, bracing you against his chest. His scent fills your nose; that heady scent swallows you whole. Crisp and bright and sensual. Just like him.

He lifts you, and you jump into his arms. That well-fed vampiric strength is now a personal boon, one you’re eager to take advantage of. Magic tingles down your spine as he presses you into a column, his face pulling away, breaking the kiss, and making you whine.

“Tell me you want this, darling,” he murmurs in sultry tones, those crimson eyes wide and pleading and brimming with unspoken feelings. “Tell me it’s not an illusion, that you also feel the mag—”

“If you say magic right now, I might bite you back,” you tease, his obvious humor and tawdry flirtation making you giggle.

Astarion just gives that rakish smirk as he shuts his mouth and grinds his hips against your sex.

You suddenly flush, head to toe, hot and thrumming with instant need. Your mind whirs, not recalling the last time you had been with Ga… anyone else… you push the thought from your mind.

“Darling, don’t wander from me in your thoughts. Just speak the magic words and I’m yours,” he drops his voice into his chest, into that purr that makes you wet, “and you’re all mine.” Thumb and finger, so cool and callused, tenderly pinches your chin and brings your mouth to his.

You nod furiously, tears in your eyes as his mouth moves on yours, a sensuous dance that leaves you breathless. He lifts you, cradling you as your bodies lower to the floor, the shining sparkles of magic feel like static on your back. You arch, and not because of the strange floor. The way his hips lower into yours, his arms wrap around you. He’s everywhere, the perfect crush of sinew and bone you had dreamed he would be when you weren’t lying to yourself about your heart. This was right… this was what you craved.

“My sweet, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, wanted you,” he growls into your mouth. Then he lifts away, breathless and sweating, his flawless silver curls mussed over his forehead. “Typically, I pride myself on a long first conquest, lengthy sessions of… stimulation… and…”

“Shut up,” you laugh, “I don’t care if this last two minutes.” He swallows your giggle and girlish shrieks as he pulls down pants. “It’ll be the most magical two minutes of my life.”

Astsrion tugs into your waistband and something tears slightly as he pulls them confidently and zealously to your ankles. “I promise you, little love, I’ll last longer than two minutes…”

You reach to do the same for him, hand brushing the straining bulge in his leathers, making him hiss and whisper shockingly loudly.

“….Well maybe not much longer than two minutes.”

You giggle, freeing him from the fastened front. And your mouth salivates as your hand closes around it. You’d seen his cock before, accidentally or slightly on purpose. Smooth and flaccid but definitely beautiful. But now…

“Hells,” you groan, your fingers closing around it to feel just how smooth and veined and disgustingly hard it is.

“All yours, my sweet…” he chuckles, thrusting into your grip with the slightest push of his hips.

A wanton moan escapes you, unprepared as you are for that feeling.

It makes his smirk twist even more wickedly and only makes him thrust his hips again. Harder. With his eyes locked onto your face to watch the way yours flutter shut and your mouth part in another breathy moan. You open your eyes, and something seems to snap into place between you, his lips crash into yours, his hand gripping his cock at the base, teasing that flushed and leaking head against your folds.

Inch by sweet inch, he fills you, your breathing so quick and your eye so watery with unshed tears of bliss. It’s all consuming, the way you meld into one another. You glance between your thighs, watching where his cock enters you. In… and out… every little roll of his body as you adjust to the feeling of him makes your nerves burn with static and your blood race at a gallop. Mesmerized, you lose all sense of time as he takes you, fixated on the sight of you two becoming one.

With a growl, his control slips, and he picks up the pace, lowering his body to crush you again. Faster, he drives thrust after thrust, making your vision swim. Not that you can keep your eyes open, too afraid you’ll lose the feeling of him finally taking you. His lips press to your ear, rasping and husky as he speaks. “Hells, you’re perfect. Tight and warm… better than I’ve dreamed of it.”

His words alone push you to the brink. You feel it, or orgasm, faster and harder and more insistent than any you’ve ever felt before. The tightening of your belly and the blast of heat and wet that rages through you. You buck your hips, chasing it, catching the ridged head of his cock on your bundle of nerves just right.

You scream so loudly, you’re sure that these magic walls would crumble if they could. Back arching, voice breaking, you gush around him. And every thrust squelches loudly, even as they grow deeper and more erratic.

He lifts his head, those crimson eyes two pitch black centers as he growls a single worded question: “Where?”

Lust clouds your head, thoughts too scattered by the delicious drag of him inside you for it to make sense right away. So his hands squeeze your ass, your hip.

“Where?!” his voice breaks in desperation.

You answer, pulling him by his back to thrust into you deeper, harder, fuller. “Here,” you rasp.

The slacked-mouth smile on his face is burned forever in your memory as he lowers his head and pummels slower, more deliberate. He grunts, he gasps, louder and higher, the slightest whimper breaking from his throat as you feel him stutter and come inside you. It’s wet and full, the way he throbs with every pulse of his cum to flood you.

A few slower drags in your walls, and all you are is wet… and happy.

And whole.

He kisses you gently, plush lips sucking and working yours as he grins like a fool. “Dare I say… that was magical?”

You swat his arm, but laugh. For it was exactly that.

My lovely Nyx, thank you for trusting me your beloved Evelyn, for she’s my spawn girlie and a treasure to write for, implied reader 💛⚡️

[robinbuckleyluvr]

a christmas surprise - robin buckley

masterlist | requests

Summary: reader gets robin a christmas gift & robin practically falls head over heels

Warnings: she/her pronouns used on reader

Notes: late christmas post but its still december !! also props to u if u get the rebel robin reference

Word count: 351

⸻⊱༺ 

Robin walked into Family Video more relaxed than ever, knowing it was the last day she had to work before Christmas. She quickly spotted Y/N, her co-worker, restocking a shelf alone, whilst Steve helped a random mom choose a movie for her Christmas party, clearly over it.

As Robin waved hi, she spotted a small box neatly wrapped, with her name on it, sitting on the counter. She frowned, immediately intrigued by the box, even more so as she began to be haunted by the question of who the gift came from.

She decided to unwrap it carefully before assuming anything, and she was filled with surprise and excitement as she unveiled the gift: her very own walkman. She already owned one, a very old one that belonged to her mom, and she had been complaining about its worn down buttons and shitty audio quality to Steve for weeks.

Robin waited for Steve to finish helping around the store, before she walked up to him beaming with excitement and holding up the present.

“Thank you so mu—“, She squealed before Steve interrupted.

“Wasn’t me, Buckley,” He spoke as he nodded towards her.

Robin’s mouth fell in surprise and blush filled her face simultaneously. She was instantly confused, there was no way in hell the present came from her, right?

She shyly decided to approach Y/N, startling the girl slightly as she spoke.

“Hey,” Robin breathed out, still unable to hide her excitement, “I, uh, found this at the counter! Steve told me he didn’t get it for me, and I highly doubt Keith would get something like this for me…”

The girl smiled as Robin rambled on, “A little birdie told me you were getting tired of using a shitty walkman to learn French.” 

Robin felt her smile widen and her blush deepen, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Don’t mention it,” Y/N laughed.

Robin’s look grew from admiration to something else, something that didn’t need to be spoken, but was understood by both girls. And suddenly, Robin wasn’t the only one blushing as deep as a tomato.