⟡ varka is really affectionate, to no one’s surprise. your name somehow makes its way into every conversation he has, even if you’re not there. if you are, he’s always steering the topic back to you, or asking for your input with a warm smile.

⟡ he’s the kind of guy to have no shame when it comes to you. he’ll pick you up and twirl you around in the town centre in front of everyone, even if its only been a day since you’ve seen him.

⟡ he’s your personal cheerleader. he’s nothing if not proud of you and he makes sure to tell you all the time.

⟡ he calls you his spouse way before you guys get married. you two are as good as married to him anyway.

⟡ varka’s ideal date is something fancy where he can show you off, but if you aren’t up for that then he loves to stargaze with you. just the two of you, two glasses of wine and the stars above.

⟡ his favourite place to kiss you is obviously your lips. he’s such a tease about it too, even when you’re giving him a quick kiss goodbye, he’ll tug on your lower lip with his teeth before pulling away. his second favourite place is your thighs. it doesn’t have to go further, just gently pressing his lips to your thigh while he’s laying his head on them.

⟡ he adores your body. shape and size don’t matter to him, he’ll cherish it no matter what because it’s yours. you were always so perfect to him, and your body isn’t the exception to that.

⟡ he’s the kind of guy to kiss your fingertips when you offer him a bite of food from your hand. he’s a sap like that.

⟡ his favourite things to call you are angel, darling, beloved, or some silly nickname derived from your name.

⟡ varka loves when you call him yours. your boyfriend, your lover, your varka. nothing makes his heart swell more than being yours, and proudly yours.

⟡ he brings you flowers while you’re working. he’ll knock at your door and when you tell him to come in, he’ll be stood there with a boyish grin, holding out a handful of cecilias to you. you’ve learnt to keep a large vase of water at your workplace to store his flower gifts.

⟡ varka has had his proposal to you planned for ages. (oneshot incoming perhaps 👀) he’s just waiting for the chance to get you both properly out of work.

⟡ if you ever get seriously injured, varka’s glued to your side. he’ll sit by your bed, trying to make you laugh to distract you from your injuries. while you’re unconscious, he’s gently stroking the back of your hand and pressing his lips to your knuckles and the inside of your wrists.

⟡ varka is very much “happy wife (spouse), happy life” coded in the sense that he does not like making you angry or upset. he’ll genuinely get on his knees for forgiveness from you. he hates arguing with you and avoids it as much as he can. (cue mild communication issues)

⟡ he falls asleep last and wakes up last. he likes when you lay your head on his chest while he rests his hand on your waist. sometimes you’ll wake up and you’re both tangled in each other’s arms as a result of him pulling you closer throughout the night.

⟡ varka’s big on cuddling. he holds you tight in his arms, mumbling sleepily against your neck to get you to stay for just “five more minutes.” five minutes turns to half an hour because he just can’t bring himself to let go of you.

⟡ he only does his paperwork when you’re keeping him company. you have to reward him with kisses periodically to get him to continue. (ho is you a dog?) sometimes turns into you two making out but he sounds so apologetic about it while he’s mumbling an “oops..?” against your lips. you can’t bring yourself to be mad at him when he kisses you so sweetly.

The morning sun over Mondstadt always seemed to catch the crest of Starfell Valley first, pouring like liquid amber over the cider-scented orchards of the Dawn Winery.

It was a quiet sort of beauty, the kind that didn’t demand an audience but simply existed, grounding and immense.

Inside the manor, the atmosphere was much the same.

You sat at the long, polished oak table in the dining room, the crest of the Ragnvindr clan catching the early light from the high arched windows.

A cup of black tea steamed faintly beside your plate, the scent of bergamot mingling with the rich, earthy aroma of the breakfast Elzer had just laid out.

From the doorway, the soft, rhythmic click of leather boots signaled his approach.

You didn’t need to look up to know the precise cadence of Diluc’s step.

It was a march born of years of discipline, yet whenever he entered a room where you sat, that rigid pace invariably softened, rounding at the edges until it was nothing more than a gentle glide.

Diluc paused behind your chair, his gloved hand coming to rest lightly on the carved wooden back. With his other hand, he reached down, his long, pale fingers gently tucking a stray lock of your hair behind your ear.

His touch was warm, always so incredibly warm, a silent testament to the Pyro Vision that rested against his coat but it was also remarkably tender.

To the rest of Teyvat, Diluc Ragnvindr was a man of iron and ash, a silent protector who wore a permanent scowl and carried the weight of Mondstadt’s sins on his broad shoulders.

But here, within the private sanctuary of the winery, surrounded by the staff who had known him since childhood, he was simply yours.

"Did you sleep well?" his voice was a low, gravelly rumble, rich and soothing in the quiet of the morning.

"I did," you replied, tilting your head back to look up at him.

A small, soft smile graced your lips as you reached up to cup his cheek.

His skin was rough from years of handling claymores and reins, but he melted into your palm, his eyelids fluttering shut for a brief, sacred second.

"Though the bed felt a bit empty after dawn."

Diluc leaned down, pressing a lingering, warm kiss to your forehead. "I had paperwork to review with Elzer regarding the summer vintage. I didn’t wish to wake you."

Across the room, Adeline stood by the sideboard, a silver teapot in hand.

A knowing, deeply affectionate smile softened her features as she watched the two of you.

She had seen Diluc through his darkest, most turbulent years, the years of grief, of self-imposed exile, of bitter isolation.

To see him now, anchored so completely by your presence, his sharp edges thoroughly blunted by the sheer depth of his love for you, brought a quiet joy to her heart.

"Master Diluc, the carriage is being prepared for your trip into the city," Adeline murmured, her tone respectful yet warm. "And forgive me, Lady Ragnvindr, your dynamic with the Knights’ logistics team is scheduled for early afternoon, is it not?"

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "Adeline, please. Just my name is fine. And yes, Jean asked if I could assist with the inventory of the elemental reserves. With the Stormterror aftermath still causing minor anomalies, she wants an extra Vision holder on site."

Diluc’s eyes flicked down to your hip, where your own Vision rested, glinting softly in the morning light.

A subtle, protective tighten crossed his jaw, though it vanished as quickly as it came.

He trusted your strength implicitly. You were a formidable fighter in your own right, an equal partner who could stand back-to-back with him in the dead of night against an abyss pack without flinching.

His protectiveness wasn't a doubt of your capabilities; it was simply the natural law of his universe.

He loved you, and therefore, the world was a threat to be managed.

"I will be at the tavern by nightfall," Diluc said, his hand sliding down to your shoulder, giving it a firm, reassuring squeeze. "If your duties wrap up early, come find me at the Angel’s Share. We can ride back together."

"It's a date," you teased softly.

He didn't smirk, but the corners of his eyes crinkled a rare expression that only you ever truly witnessed.

To the world outside these stone walls, you were a dedicated ally of the winery, a capable Vision user, and a dear, trusted friend of Diluc Ragnvindr.

When the two of you had married a year ago, it had been a quiet affair, held in the estate’s private chapel with only Adeline, Elzer, and a profoundly smug Kaeya in attendance.

It wasn't that you were hiding your love; it was simply that neither you nor Diluc felt the need to perform your marriage for the court of public opinion.

You didn't hold hands in the streets of Mondstadt; you didn't exchange sweet nothings over the counter at the Good Hunter.

You walked side by side, equals, autonomous and private.

If anyone asked, neither of you lied. But Mondstadt was a city of gossip, and when people didn't see grand gestures, dramatic declarations, or a woman dangling off the winery master's arm, they assumed what they pleased.

To the average citizen, you were just an exceptionally close confidante. A brilliant friend.

And that suited you both perfectly. But privacy, you would soon remember, often left room for the imaginative malice of those who envied what they could not understand.

The afternoon air in Mondstadt was crisp, carrying the scent of dandelions and fresh bread from Sarah’s ovens.

You walked down the stone steps from the Knights of Favonius headquarters, stretching your shoulders after hours of cataloging elemental crystals with Lisa.

Your Vision hummed with a faint, resonant energy, responding to the ambient elemental flow of the city.

As you made your way past the flower shop, intending to head toward the plaza, a sharp, carrying voice cut through the midday bustle.

"Oh, look who it is. I swear, some people simply don't know when they are overstaying their welcome."

You paused, turning your head slightly. Standing near the city gates, leaning against a crate of goods, was Donna.

Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her lips curled into a sneer that looked entirely out of place on her usually bright face.

A couple of other townspeople stood nearby, shifting uncomfortably under her intense, venomous gaze.

You blinked, genuinely caught off guard. "Good afternoon, Donna. Is something the matter?"

"Is something the matter?" Donna scoffed, taking a step toward you, her heels clicking sharply against the cobblestones. "You have a lot of nerve acting so innocent. Everyone in the city sees it, you know. The way you constantly hover around the Dawn Winery. The way you practically force yourself into Master Diluc’s schedule."

You stared at her, utterly bewildered. "I work closely with the winery on elemental defense and trade routes, Donna. It’s matters of business."

"Business! Is that what you call it when you follow him around like a stray dog?" Donna’s voice rose, deliberately drawing the attention of passing citizens.

A few merchants turned to look; a pair of Knights on patrol slowed their pace. "You think just because you have a Vision, you're somehow special? You’re just a commoner clinging to his coattails, desperately trying to climb the social ladder. It’s pathetic, really. Master Diluc is a nobleman of highest caliber. He’s far too polite and well-bred to tell you to your face that you're an annoying nuisance, but it’s obvious to everyone else."

A low, collective murmur passed through the small crowd that had gathered.

Some looked sympathetic toward you, while others, fueled by the natural human appetite for scandal, began to whisper among themselves.

Is she really clinging to him? Well, they do spend an awful lot of time together... and Master Diluc never did seem the type to tolerate idle company.

You felt a prickle of annoyance, but you kept your composure.

You didn't need to defend your honor to Donna; the ring tucked safely on a silver chain beneath your shirt pressed warmly against your collarbone, a solid, unshakeable truth.

"Donna," you said, your voice calm, steady, and entirely devoid of the anger she was trying to provoke. "I assure you, Master Diluc is entirely capable of expressing his discomfort if he had any. My presence at the winery is welcomed."

"Welcomed? Keep telling yourself that!" Donna spat, her eyes flashing with a desperate, bitter jealousy.

For months, she had watched you slip in and out of the winery gates, had seen you walking beside the man of her dreams.

She had convinced herself that you were an opportunist, a parasite exploiting Diluc's solitary nature. "You're just a parasite. A desperate, clinging little girl who thinks a shiny glass orb on her hip makes her worthy of a Ragnvindr. You don't belong near him. You're nothing to him."

Before you could even open your mouth to reply, a long, dark shadow fell over the cobblestones between you and Donna.

"My, my. What an incredibly loud performance for such a quiet afternoon."

The smooth, theatrical drawl was instantly recognizable.

From around the corner of the alchemy station stepped Kaeya, his single eye gleaming with a dangerous, icy amusement.

His hand rested casually on the pommel of his sword, his posture relaxed, yet there was a distinct, predatory sharpness to the air the moment he arrived.

Donna paled slightly, stepping back. "Captain Kaeya! I-I was just... I was just pointing out the truth. She’s always bothering Master Diluc, and-"

"And since when did the logistics of the Ragnvindr estate become the civic duty of a floral assistant?" Kaeya interrupted, his smile never reaching his eye. He walked over, deliberately stepping into your space, his arm coming around your shoulders in a loose, protective, brotherly drape.

He looked down at you, his expression softening into genuine fondness. "Are you alright, little lady? Did the bad weather wash up some refuse?"

"I'm fine, Kaeya," you sighed, though you appreciated the warmth of his presence.

Over the past year, Kaeya had firmly established himself as a fiercely protective, albeit incredibly teasing, older brother figure to you.

He might have a fractured relationship with Diluc, but when it came to you, Kaeya was fiercely, uncompromisingly loyal.

Kaeya turned his gaze back to Donna, the temperature in the immediate vicinity seeming to drop by several degrees.

"Let’s clear something up, shall we? The lady you are so carelessly slandering happens to hold a position of utmost respect within the Knights' strategic network. Furthermore..." His grin widened, flashing a row of white teeth.

"If Master Diluc found her presence 'bothering,' he wouldn't be the one constantly ensuring her favorite tea is imported directly from Liyue just to keep her comfortable at his table. So, unless you want me to write up a formal report for public disturbance and harassment of a Knights' liaison... I suggest you take your flowers and your fascinating theories somewhere else."

Donna choked on her breath, her face flushing a deep, humiliated red.

She cast one last, hateful look at you before turning on her heel and storming off toward the flower shop, her hands trembling with rage.

The crowd dispersed quickly under Kaeya’s sharp, lingering gaze. Once the street was relatively clear, Kaeya dropped his arm from your shoulder, letting out a soft sigh as he looked down at you.

"You let people trample over you too much," he chided gently, though his voice held no real bite. "You could have flattened her with your Vision in three seconds flat."

"And cause a scene? Diluc hates scenes," you reasoned, smoothing down your coat. "Besides, her words don't change the truth. Let her think what she wants."

Kaeya shook his head, a complex emotion flitting across his face. "You and Diluc... I swear, the two of you are stubborn to a fault. This whole 'private romance' bit is all well and good, but it leaves the door wide open for fools like Donna to think they have a chance, or worse, to drag your name through the mud. Diluc would burn Mondstadt to the ground if he knew she spoke to you like that."

"Then let's not tell him," you said softly, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "He has enough on his plate with the Abyss Order activity near the Wolvendom borders. He doesn't need to waste his energy on town gossip."

Kaeya stared at you for a long moment, before letting out a defeated, amused chuckle. He reached out, rustling your hair affectionately. "You're too good for him, you know that? But fine. I won't say a word.

Just... be careful. Jealousy makes people do incredibly stupid things."

As it turned out, Kaeya’s warning was entirely prophetic.

A few days later, a grand celebration was held in Mondstadt.

The Knights of Favonius had successfully cleared out a massive hilichurl camp that had been blocking the main trade routes from Liyue, and the acting Grand Master had declared a night of festivity to boost morale.

The entire city was alive with light, laughter, and the heavy scent of Barbatos’s favored brew.

The Angel’s Share was packed to the brim.

Every table was occupied, the wooden rafter echoing with the loud choruses of bards and the clinking of heavy beer mugs.

Diluc stood behind the bar, his expression as impassive as ever as he poured drinks with practiced, flawless efficiency.

He wore his usual high-collared vest, his fiery red hair tied back in a neat ponytail.

Despite the chaos of the crowded tavern, his eyes continuously tracked a single point in the room: you.

You were sitting at a table near the corner, laughing softly as Venti spun a ridiculous, entirely fabricated yarn about a dragon and a giant dandelion.

Beside you, Kaeya was nursing a glass of Death After Noon, his eyes occasionally scanning the room with quiet vigilance.

"Master Diluc!"

Diluc’s gaze snapped back to the bar counter.

Standing there, leaning heavily against the polished wood, was Donna. She had clearly had a bit to drink, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glassy, though fixed on him with an intense, desperate focus.

"A glass of your finest white wine, please," she purred, trying to pitch her voice lower, trying to emulate the sophisticated ladies she read about in novels.

Diluc didn't utter a word.

He simply reached for a clean glass, poured the requested wine, and slid it across the counter to her, already turning away to wipe down a tap.

"Master Diluc, wait," Donna called out, her hand reaching out across the wood, nearly catching the sleeve of his coat.

Diluc subtly stepped back, entirely out of her reach, his eyes narrowing into a cold, flat stare.

Undeterred by his icy demeanor, Donna leaned in closer, her voice carrying over the din of the tavern to the surrounding patrons. "I... I just wanted to say how much everyone appreciates you hosting these events. You are always so hardworking, so noble.

It must be so exhausting... especially with certain people constantly draining your time and resources."

Diluc’s hand paused on the towel. "What are you referring to?"

Donna took his response as an invitation, her eyes lighting up with a cruel, triumphant gleam.

She glanced pointedly over her shoulder toward your table. "Oh, you know. There are rumors all over the city about how some people take advantage of your generosity. Always hanging around the winery, acting like they belong there, using their Vision as an excuse to get close to your wealth and status. It’s disgusting, really. Someone like you deserves a woman who truly understands high society, someone who values you for you, not just your name."

The immediate area around the bar went dead silent.

Six-Fingered José stopped strumming his lyre a few paces away.

Several patrons lowered their mugs, sensing the sudden, suffocating drop in atmospheric pressure.

Diluc did not blink.

His crimson eyes fixed onto Donna with a terrifying, absolute stillness.

The heat radiating off him became palpable, a heavy, oppressive warmth that made Donna’s breath hitch in her throat.

"Is that so?" Diluc’s voice was dangerously quiet, a low hiss of embers before a wildfire.

"Y-yes!" Donna stammered, emboldened by her own delusion. "Everyone thinks so! She’s just a clinging, desperate nobody who’s dragging down your reputation. You should just ban her from the estate, Master Diluc. You don't need that kind of dead weight—"

"Donna."

The name slipped from his lips like a sentence from a judge.

Diluc slowly placed the towel down on the counter.

He didn't raise his voice, but the sheer command in his tone cut through the entire tavern, silencing even the rowdy tables in the back.

"You are speaking of my wife."

The words dropped like a claymore splitting a boulder.

Donna froze, her eyes widening to the size of saucers. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. "W... W-wife...?"

Across the room, you raised your eyebrows, a quiet sigh escaping your lips.

You had hoped to avoid a scene, but looking at the absolute fury vibrating beneath Diluc’s calm exterior, you knew there was no stopping him now.

Kaeya, on the other hand, let out a loud, delighted bark of laughter, leaning back in his chair with a thoroughly entertained grin.

Diluc walked out from behind the bar counter.

He didn't spare Donna another glance as he crossed the floor of the tavern.

Every single eye in the establishment followed him as he made his way directly to your corner table.

As he approached, you stood up, a soft, apologetic smile on your face. "Diluc, you didn't have to-"

Before you could finish your sentence, Diluc reached out. His large, warm hand cupped the back of your neck, his fingers tangling into your hair with an intense, possessive gentleness.

He pulled you to him, and without a single shred of hesitation, he leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against yours.

It wasn't a chaste, polite kiss.

It was deep, breath-stealing, and heavy with a profound, unyielding adoration. It was the kiss of a man who was utterly consumed by the woman in his arms, a declaration made in the language of fire and absolute devotion.

Your Vision pulsed in tandem with his, a warm, harmonious light flaring briefly between you.

The tavern erupted.

Cheered, gasps, and the slamming of mugs against wood shook the rafters. Venti clapped his hands with glee, while Patton near the door looked like he might faint from sheer shock.

When Diluc finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours for a brief second.

His breathing was slightly shallow, his eyes dark with an emotion so raw it made your heart skip a beat.

He looked down at you, his thumb gently wiping a trace of moisture from your lower lip.

"I am tired of listening to fools speak your name with anything less than the reverence you deserve," he whispered, his voice for your ears alone.

He then turned his head, his sharp, lethal gaze locking onto Donna, who looked as though she wished the floorboards would open up and swallow her whole.

"Let me make this entirely clear to everyone present," Diluc announced, his voice ringing with absolute authority through the Angel’s Share.

"The lady standing beside me is the mistress of the Dawn Winery. She holds my heart, my trust, and my name. Any insult directed toward her is a direct declaration of hostility against the Ragnvindr house. If I hear a single whisper of slander against my wife again... you will find yourselves permanently barred not only from this establishment, but from every trade route, estate, and asset I control in Mondstadt. Am I understood?"

Donna looked as if she might burst into tears.

She gave a frantic, terrified nod before grabbing her bag and sprinting out of the tavern doors, the laughter of the patrons following her into the night.

Diluc let out a soft breath, the tension leaving his shoulders as he looked back down at you.

His expression immediately melted back into that soft, gentle gaze that was reserved entirely for you. "Are you alright?"

"I'm more than alright," you smiled, wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest. "Though I thought we agreed no public displays of affection?"

"Exceptions can be made," he murmured, wrapping his arms securely around you, holding you close against his chest, entirely ignoring the catcalls and cheers of the tavern around him.

From the table, Kaeya cleared his throat loudly, a massive, mischievous grin stretching across his face. He stood up, swirling his drink before tossing it back.

"Well, well. Quite a performance, Master Diluc," Kaeya teased, walking over to the two of you. He clapped a hand heavily onto Diluc’s shoulder, a gesture that made Diluc’s eyes narrow, though he didn't pull away. Kaeya looked at you, his single eye glittering with a brilliant, sudden idea.

"You know... since the town is clearly so confused about your martial status, I think there’s only one logical solution to put this entire matter to rest permanently."

Diluc glared at him. "And what would that be, Kaeya?"

Kaeya smirked, leaning in. "A proper, grand wedding. Right in the middle of the city, at the Cathedral of Favonius. A full mass, the entire town invited, the grandest decorations the winery can buy."

He winked at you.

"And most importantly... we ensure Donna is given a front-row seat to watch you slide the ring onto her finger all over again. What do you say, sister-in-law? Want to give Mondstadt something real to gossip about?"

You looked up at Diluc, who was already looking down at you, awaiting your verdict.

The thought of a grand wedding was usually against his private nature, but seeing the soft, unspoken warmth in his eyes, you knew that if it made you happy, he would rent out the entire city for a week.

"I think," you said, a beautiful, radiant smile breaking across your face, "that sounds like a wonderful idea."

The morning following the announcement at the Angel’s Share did not arrive with the usual quiet dignity of the Dawn Winery.

Instead, it arrived with the sound of Kaeya Alberich’s boots clicking across the polished flagstones of the manor’s entrance hall at an hour that Diluc considered borderline criminal.

Inside the study, the air was thick with the scent of old paper, sealing wax, and the rich aroma of dark-roasted coffee.

Diluc sat behind his massive mahogany desk, his crimson hair tied back loosely with a black ribbon, a pair of reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

You sat on the chaise lounge across from him, a ledger of elemental inventory resting on your lap, though your attention had long since drifted to the way the morning light caught the sharp lines of your husband’s jaw.

The door flew open without a knock.

"Good morning, newlyweds or should I say, the soon-to-be publicly newlyweds?" Kaeya breezed into the room, his fur-lined cape swirling behind him like a dark blue cloud.

He held a thick stack of parchment in one hand and a half-eaten red apple in the other.

Diluc did not look up from his ledger, though his brow twitched with an immediate, practiced irritation.

"Kaeya. It is barely eight in the morning. Do the Knights no longer require their Cavalry Captain to pretend he has duties?"

"Oh, Jean has given me a temporary leave of absence for a matter of grave diplomatic and cultural importance," Kaeya said smoothly, dropping the stack of parchment directly onto Diluc’s immaculate desk, right over the trade reports from Liyue.

Diluc finally raised his eyes, his gaze flat and lethal. "And what matter might that be?"

"Your wedding, of course," Kaeya smiled, his single eye glinting with pure, unadulterated mischief.

He turned to you, his expression softening into that warm, brotherly fondness that had become so familiar over the past year. "Good morning, little lady. I trust my dear brother didn't keep you up all night discussing wine fermentation statistics?"

You laughed softly, closing your ledger and setting it aside. "Good morning, Kaeya. And no, we actually managed to sleep. Though I see you’ve been busy."

"Busy? I haven't slept a wink!" Kaeya declared dramatically, pulling up a high-backed chair and spinning it around so he could rest his arms across the backrest.

"Do you have any idea how much coordination it takes to plan a grand ceremony at the Cathedral of Favonius on less than a month's notice? Jean is already organizing the honorary guard. Lisa is curating the evening's musical repertoire though she threatened to electrocute me if I suggested any sea shanties and Amber has volunteered to handle the decorations for the plaza."

Diluc slowly took off his reading glasses, placing them precisely on the desk. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest.

"We agreed to a ceremony, Kaeya. We did not agree to turn the city into a carnival. A quiet, dignified service at the Cathedral is more than enough to satisfy whatever... point you are trying to make."

"Oh, this isn't just about making a point, Master Diluc," Kaeya purred, his smile widening into something genuinely wicked.

"This is about community morale. And, more importantly, it is about civic education. The good people of Mondstadt need to learn the consequences of gossiping about the winery’s Lady."

Kaeya reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a separate piece of parchment, tapping it against his chin.

"In fact, I’ve already taken the liberty of handling the floral arrangements. I thought to myself, 'Kaeya, who in Mondstadt is most qualified to provide the highest volume of Cecilias and Windwheel Asters for the Ragnvindr estate?' And then it hit me."

A sudden, terrible suspicion flashed across Diluc’s face.

"Kaeya. What did you do?"

Kaeya’s grin was blinding.

"I placed a massive, non-refundable, incredibly lucrative order with Flora’s shop. Specifically, I requested that the order be processed, curated, and hand-delivered directly to the Cathedral by her senior assistant."

The room went dead silent for three seconds.

You blinked, a slow, disbelieving smile breaking across your face as the pieces clicked together.

"Donna."

"Precisely!" Kaeya snapped his fingers, looking thoroughly pleased with his own genius.

"I ordered five thousand Cecilias, three thousand Windwheel Asters, and a dozen arrangements of silk flowers imported from Liyue. And I made sure to specify in the contract that the delivery must be supervised at all hours by Mondstadt's most dedicated floral enthusiast. She will be spending the next three weeks surrounded by the very flowers that will adorn your bridal aisle. She will practically smell your happiness every time she breathes."

Diluc let out a long, heavy sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose where his glasses had just been.

"You are a child. A petty, vindictive child."

"I am a protective older brother," Kaeya corrected, his tone shifting for a brief second into something entirely sincere as he looked at you.

"And I don't tolerate people throwing dirt on my family. Besides, think of the economic boost for the flower shop! It’s an act of pure charity."

"It's psychological warfare," you corrected gently, though you couldn't deny the small, wicked spark of satisfaction it gave you.

Donna had spent weeks trying to poison your reputation; letting her carry the flowers for your wedding felt like a poetic, if slightly chaotic, form of justice.

"Exactly. The best kind of warfare," Kaeya chuckled, standing up and dusting off his trousers.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go check on the wine selection with Elzer. I told him we need at least fifty barrels of the 1984 vintage, and he looked like he was going to have a stroke."

"Kaeya, do not touch my cellar," Diluc growled, his voice dropping an octave.

"Too late! See you at lunch!" Kaeya waved a hand over his shoulder as he sauntered out of the study, his laughter echoing down the hallway.

Once the door closed, the heavy silence returned to the study, but the tension had evaporated, replaced by a warm, lingering amusement.

Diluc turned his head to look at you, his crimson eyes softening as the rigid persona of the Darknight Hero melted away entirely.

He stood up from his desk, walking across the room with that silent, graceful stride of his.

He stopped before the chaise lounge, reaching down to take your hands in his.

His palms were large, covering yours completely, the ambient Pyro energy within him making his skin feel like a hearth on a winter night.

He pulled you up to stand, wrapping his arms around your waist and drawing you flush against his chest.

"If this is too much," Diluc murmured, his face burying into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin, "we can stop it. I don't care about the city's rumors. I only care about your peace."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers tangling into the soft, thick waves of his red hair.

"Diluc, it's fine. Honestly. It’s a little chaotic, but... seeing everyone want to help, seeing Kaeya get so worked up to protect us... it makes me realize how much love we actually have around us. And besides..."

You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, a playful glint in your own. "I wouldn't mind seeing you in a proper tailored suit at the altar."

Diluc’s chest rumbled with a rare, low chuckle.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, deep kiss that tasted faintly of coffee and sweet morning air. "If it pleases my wife, I will wear whatever she desires."

Over the next two weeks, Mondstadt was transformed into a whirlwind of wedding preparation.

Because you and Diluc were already technically married, the typical stress of a wedding was absent; there was no anxiety about vows or legalities.

Instead, it became a massive, community-driven festival, with every major figure in the city finding a way to involve themselves.

At the Knights of Favonius headquarters, Jean had practically turned her office into a war room specifically for the logistics of the ceremony.

"The honorary guard will line the steps of the Cathedral," Jean explained, tapping a quill against a map of the city plaza.

You were sitting across from her, while Lisa lounged on the sofa nearby, sipping tea.

"We will have four squads of Knights in full ceremonial armor. No weapons drawn, of course, but it will ensure the crowd remains orderly. Master Diluc’s standing in Mondstadt demands a certain level of security, and given your status as a vital liaison, the Knights are proud to sponsor the guard."

"Jean, you really don't have to go to such trouble," you said, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the scale of it all. "A simple walk up the steps is fine."

"Nonsense, darling," Lisa chimed in, setting her teacup down with a elegant clink. "Mondstadt hasn't had a proper noble wedding since Diluc's father was a young man. The people need something beautiful to look at. And besides, Jean needs an excuse to think about something other than paperwork. Look at her, she’s practically glowing with tactical wedding enthusiasm."

Jean flushed slightly, coughing into her hand. "I am merely ensuring that the event goes smoothly. Furthermore, Klee has requested to be the flower girl. I have... strictly forbidden her from using any 'special' flowers, and Albedo has promised to supervise her to ensure no explosives are disguised as bouquets."

You laughed, the vision of Klee accidentally blowing up the Cathedral altar with a companion sphere of dandelions both terrifying and hilarious. "Thank Barbatos for Albedo."

Meanwhile, down in the city plaza, the real drama was unfolding at the floral shop.

Kaeya had made it a personal habit to check on the progress of the floral orders at least twice a day.

He didn't just check the inventory; he brought a chair, sat near the fountain, and watched with a look of supreme satisfaction as Donna worked.

Donna was utterly miserable.

Her fingers were raw from trimming the thorny stems of the silk flowers, and her eyes were permanently red from a combination of pollen and bitter, furious tears.

Every single flower she touched was a reminder of the woman she hated, the woman who had turned out to be the legal, fiercely adored wife of the most eligible man in Mondstadt.

"Careful with those Windwheel Asters, Donna," Kaeya called out from his chair, swirling a glass of sparkling cider he had brought from the tavern.

"We need them to be perfectly symmetrical. My sister-in-law has a very keen eye for detail, you know. If a single petal is wilted, I’ll have to report it to Master Diluc, and we both know how particular he is about quality."

Donna bit her lower lip so hard it nearly bled.

She kept her head down, her hands trembling as she tied a silk ribbon around a massive bouquet of Cecilias. "Yes, Captain Kaeya. I am being very careful."

"Excellent!" Kaeya beamed, taking a slow sip of his drink.

"Oh, and make sure the delivery to the Cathedral on Friday morning is prompt. Master Diluc requested that the altar be completely covered in white lilies. He told me just yesterday while looking at his wife with the most sickeningly sweet expression I've ever seen on his face, mind you that she reminds him of a fresh lily after a spring rain. Truly, the man is a closet romantic. Who knew?"

A sharp snip echoed through the plaza as Donna accidentally cut the head completely off a pristine white rose.

"Oops," Kaeya murmured, his eye flashing with cruel amusement.

"That’s coming out of your commission, dear."

Donna looked up, her eyes wide with a mix of terror, humiliation, and deep-seated jealousy. "Captain Kaeya... why are you doing this to me? I... I only said what everyone else was thinking! How was I supposed to know they were... they were..."

"Married?" Kaeya’s voice lost its playful edge, dropping into a cold, sharp tone that made Donna flinch.

He leaned forward, his single visible eye locking onto her like a dagger.

"Because, Donna, a sensible person minds their own business. You let your jealousy cloud your judgment, and you tried to publicly humiliate a woman who is worth ten of you. Consider this a lesson in humility. You’re lucky it’s me sitting here teasing you, and not my brother. If Diluc had his way entirely, you wouldn't even be allowed within the city walls right now."

Donna swallowed hard, her throat tight with unshed tears. She looked down at the ruined rose in her hand, the reality of her situation sinking in. She had lost any chance she ever thought she had, and now she was forced to build the stage for her rival's ultimate triumph.

The night before the ceremony, the Dawn Winery was filled with a warm, bustling energy.

The entire staff: Adeline, Elzer, the maids, and the stable hands had gathered in the main hall to finalize the preparations for the reception, which was to be held on the estate grounds.

You stood in the center of the hall, wearing the beautiful, flowing white gown that Margaret and the city’s finest tailors had spent the last two weeks perfecting.

It was elegant, with delicate lace along the sleeves and a high neckline that managed to look both classic and modern.

Your Vision was subtly integrated into the sash at your waist, glowing with a soft, comforting light.

"Oh, look at you," Adeline whispered, her eyes misty with tears as she adjusted the long, sheer veil that trailed behind you. "You look absolutely breathtaking, my lady. Master Diluc won't know what to do with himself."

"He'll probably just scowl to hide how nervous he is," you joked softly, though your own heart was fluttering with a sweet, nervous anticipation.

"He doesn't scowl when he looks at you," Elzer remarked, entering the hall with a tray of polished silver chalices.

"In all my years serving the Ragnvindr family, I have never seen Master Diluc as at peace as he is when you are in the room. This ceremony... it is a good thing. The people of Mondstadt need to see that the Dawn Winery has a mistress who is strong, graceful, and deeply loved."

Just then, the heavy front doors of the manor opened, and Diluc stepped inside.

He had just returned from a final sweep of the perimeter with the Dawn Winery guards, ensuring no Abyss Order elements would disrupt the following day.

He stopped dead in his tracks the moment his eyes fell upon you.

The entire room went quiet.

The maids stepped back, smiling secretly among themselves.

Diluc stood perfectly still, his breath catching audibly in his throat. His crimson eyes scanned you from head to toe, taking in the elegant curve of the dress, the soft glow of your Vision, and the radiant, loving smile on your face.

For a man who never lost his composure, Diluc looked completely undone.

He slowly walked forward, his boots making no sound against the thick rugs. He stopped just inches away from you, his hands rising as if to touch you, but pausing, afraid to disturb the pristine perfection of the lace.

"You..." Diluc’s voice was barely a whisper, thick with an emotion so deep it felt heavy in the air. "You are beautiful."

"Do you like it?" you asked softly, reaching out to take his hands, pulling them to your waist.

Diluc didn't answer with words.

Instead, he leaned down, his lips finding yours with an intense, quiet reverence.

The kiss was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he were trying to commit the exact feeling of this moment to memory forever.

His hands slid around your back, pulling you close against him, completely unbothered by the fact that his entire staff was watching.

Adeline let out a soft, emotional sniffle, while the younger maids giggled into their aprons.

"I love you," Diluc murmured against your lips, his forehead resting against yours. "More than my own life. Tomorrow, the whole world will know it."

"They already know it, Diluc," you whispered back, squeezing his hands. "But tomorrow, we make it official."

The morning of the wedding arrived with a sky so clear and blue it looked as though the Anemo Archon himself had personally swept the clouds away.

The bells of the Cathedral of Favonius began to ring at noon, their deep, resonant chimes echoing across the rooftops of Mondstadt, signaling the start of the grandest celebration the city had seen in a generation.

The plaza outside the Cathedral was packed to absolute capacity. Citizens from every walk of life: merchants, Knights, adventurers, and farmers from Springvale had gathered along the grand stone steps.

The atmosphere was electric, filled with the sounds of laughter, the chatter of excited children, and the beautiful music of bards playing traditional Mondstadt love ballads.

Standing near the base of the steps, holding a massive basket of flower petals, was Donna.

She wore her finest dress, but her face was a mask of pale, frozen misery.

True to Kaeya’s word, she had been given a designated position right at the front of the spectator line, forced to watch every single guest arrive.

Her hands were trembling so violently that a few dandelion seeds slipped from her basket, scattering into the wind.

"Oh, look! The Knights’ leadership is arriving!" a merchant nearby shouted.

Jean walked up the steps in her full ceremonial uniform, her blond hair styled elegantly.

Beside her was Lisa, wearing a stunning purple gown that turned heads with every step.

Then came Barbara, leading the Cathedral choir, her face bright with a pure, angelic joy.

And then, the carriage from the Dawn Winery arrived.

The crowd went completely silent as the door opened. Diluc stepped out first.

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.

Diluc Ragnvindr, who spent his entire life in dark coats and practical combat gear, was dressed in a pristine, tailored black tailcoat with gold embroidery along the lapels.

His fiery red hair was tied back in a flawless braid, and a single, perfect white Cecilia was pinned to his breast. He looked every bit the high-born nobleman he was born to be; regal, imposing, and breathtakingly handsome.

But what caught everyone’s attention was his expression.

There was no scowl.

There was no cold detachment.

His eyes were fixed entirely on the carriage door, a soft, incredibly tender look softening his sharp features.

Diluc reached his gloved hand back into the carriage, and then, you stepped out.

The silence of the plaza broke into a roar of cheers and applause that could be heard all the way to Whispering Woods.

You looked like an absolute goddess, the white silk of your gown shimmering in the Mondstadt sun, your Vision gleaming at your hip like a star.

Diluc took your hand, drawing it through his arm. He looked down at you, a proud, deeply affectionate smile touching his lips. "Ready?" he whispered.

"With you? Always," you replied.

As the two of you began your walk up the grand stone steps, Kaeya stepped into view near the Cathedral doors.

He was dressed in his formal captain’s uniform, his cape flowing dramatically.

As you and Diluc neared the front row where Donna stood, Kaeya deliberately caught your eye, casting a subtle, mischievous glance down at the floral assistant.

Diluc, noticing the movement, paused right in front of Donna.

Donna froze, her breath catching in her throat as the terrifying, magnificent master of the winery stood just two feet away from her.

She looked down at your joined hands, the gold wedding bands catching the light, an undeniable, permanent reality.

Diluc looked at Donna, his crimson eyes cold, but entirely indifferent.

He didn't need to speak an insult; his happiness, his devotion to you, and the sheer grandeur of the moment were a far greater defeat than any words could inflict.

"Thank you for the beautiful flowers, Donna," you said softly, your voice filled with genuine kindness and grace, entirely devoid of malice. "They make the day perfect."

Donna’s face flushed a deep, burning red. She lowered her head, her voice a tiny, broken whisper. "Y-you're welcome, Lady Ragnvindr. I wish you... a lifetime of happiness."

Kaeya, standing just a few paces away, let out a soft, satisfied hum, crossing his arms as he watched the final piece of his plan fall into place.

Diluc looked down at you, his eyes immediately melting back into that soft, private warmth that belonged to you alone.

He squeezed your hand, and together, you walked through the grand wooden doors of the Cathedral, leaving the gossip, the jealousy, and the whispers of Mondstadt far behind.

Inside, the altar was a sea of white lilies and glowing candles.

Barbara began to sing, her voice filling the high stone arches with a melody of pure peace.

The high stone doors of the Cathedral closed behind you, shutting out the roar of the Mondstadt crowd and leaving only the ethereal, echoing resonance of Barbara’s choir.

The ambient temperature inside the sanctuary felt instantly warmer, charged by the quiet intensity of Diluc’s presence and the harmonious hum of your twin Visions.

As you walked down the grand aisle, flanked by rows of white lilies that Donna had spent the last two weeks painstakingly preparing, Diluc’s arm beneath your hand felt as solid as stone.

Yet, the way his fingers loosely entwined with yours showed a profound, almost hesitant gentleness.

He was a man who handled a heavy claymore with lethal precision, but with you, he always moved as if a fraction too much pressure might break the most precious thing he owned.

At the altar stood Acting Grand Master Jean, her expression a mix of professional dignity and deep personal relief.

Beside her, Albedo stood with a watchful eye on Klee, who was bouncing on the balls of her feet, clutching a velvet basket filled with shimmering Anemo-infused dandelion seeds.

"We are gathered here today," Jean began, her voice rich and carrying through the vaulted ceiling, "not to initiate a bond, but to honor one that has already stood the test of time, trial, and secrecy. Diluc Ragnvindr and his lady have long been the silent pillars of Mondstadt. Today, we bring their devotion into the light of the Archon."

Diluc turned to face you, taking both of your hands in his.

The gold embroidery on his tailored coat caught the flickering candlelight, casting a warm glow up into his crimson eyes.

In this sacred space, the stern, unyielding master of the Dawn Winery vanished completely.

The gaze he leveled at you was so raw, so entirely soft, that it made your breath catch.

"I, Diluc Ragnvindr, take you once more, before the gods and the people of Mondstadt," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly timbre that vibrated straight to your heart.

"I swore my life to you in secret, but today I gladly bind my name, my house, and my honor to yours for all to see. No rumor can shake what we have built, and no shadow will ever come between us."

You smiled, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you squeezed his warm, leather-gloved hands.

"And I take you, Diluc. With my life, my sword, and my Vision, I am yours. Yesterday, today, and for every tomorrow Mondstadt has left to give."

Kaeya, standing just a few paces back as Diluc's best man, let out a soft, theatrical sigh, wiping a completely imaginary tear from his eye.

"Beautiful. Truly, I might cry," he whispered loudly enough for Lisa to chuckle behind her hand.

"You may now seal the vow," Jean said, a genuine, warm smile breaking across her face.

Diluc didn't wait.

He stepped forward, his hands sliding up from your waist to cup your face with an immense, protective tenderness.

When his lips met yours, the Cathedral choir hit a breathtaking crescendo. It was a kiss of absolute victory; a silent, powerful declaration that the rumors, the jealousy, and the petty malice of the world outside had officially been incinerated by the hearth of his love.

Klee threw her hands in the air, sending a flurry of glowing dandelion seeds exploding into the air like miniature, harmless fireworks.

The crowd inside erupted into applause, led by a fiercely beaming Grand Master and a thoroughly satisfied Cavalry Captain.

The reception at the Dawn Winery later that evening was an affair that Mondstadt would talk about for decades.

The rolling hills of the estate were lit by hundreds of floating paper lanterns, casting a soft, golden glow over the grapevine trellises.

Tables groaned under the weight of Mondstadt's finest delicacies, and Elzer had indeed been forced to crack open the legendary 1984 vintage, much to the delight of the gathered Knights and citizens.

You stood on the stone veranda overlooking the festivities, a glass of sparkling apple cider in your hand.

The heavy lace of your bridal veil had been removed, leaving your hair to fall softly around your shoulders. Your Vision pulsed with a gentle, contented rhythm against your hip.

"A penny for your thoughts, Lady Ragnvindr?"

You turned to see Kaeya leaning against the stone balustrade, a glass of Death After Noon tilted lazily between his fingers.

The chaotic smirk he had worn all day was gone, replaced by a quiet, genuinely protective expression.

"I'm just thinking about how perfect everything turned out," you smiled, leaning back against the railing.

"Even with all your chaotic planning, Kaeya. Thank you. For everything."

"Oh, don't thank me," Kaeya chuckled, looking out over the crowd where Diluc was currently trapped in a conversation with Jean and Venti, though his eyes were still firmly locked onto you across the courtyard.

"I simply expedited the inevitable. You two deserved a day where you didn't have to hide in the shadows of that big old manor. Mondstadt needs to know who holds the reins around here."

He paused, his expression turning serious for a brief moment. "Donna was at the gate earlier, helping the catering staff. She looked like she wanted to melt into the dirt. I think she finally understands that some fires burn too hot to play with."

"I don't harbor any ill will toward her," you said softly, watching the lanterns drift into the night sky.

"Jealousy makes people blind. I just hope she finds her own peace."

"You're far too kind," Kaeya sighed, shaking his head with a fond smile. "But that's exactly why my stubborn brother needs you. Speak of the devil..."

Kaeya gave a polite nod as Diluc excused himself from the Grand Master and walked up the stone steps toward the veranda.

His posture relaxed the moment he stepped away from the crowd, his eyes entirely consumed by your image.

"I believe it's time for me to mingle elsewhere," Kaeya said smoothly, tapping his glass against yours.

"Don't keep her up too late, Master Diluc. She's had a long day of being adored by the public." With a sharp wink, the Cavalry Captain sauntered back down into the gardens, leaving the two of you alone in the quiet dark of the terrace.

Diluc closed the distance between you instantly.

He didn't say a word at first; he simply slid his arms around your waist from behind, pulling your back firmly against his chest. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume and the faint, familiar trace of elemental energy that always lingered around you.

"Are you tired?" he whispered, his chest rumbling against your back.

"A little," you admitted, tilting your head back to rest against his shoulder.

Diluc looked out over the crowded courtyard, watching his staff laughing with the Knights, watching the city he protected in the dead of night celebrating the light of his life.

For the first time in years, the heavy burden on his shoulders felt completely weightless.

You’d always known Caleb loved to spoil you. He snuck you candy when you were little, sweet drinks when you were in school, and shopping sprees after you’d moved in with him in Skyhaven. It made him happy to know he was the one that gave you such joy or pleasure. You always returned it though, peppering his face with kisses or sitting on his lap and playing with his hair while you chatted idly.

He noticed how calm and happy you always looked after a hair appointment. You ran your fingers through the freshly washed and styled locks and sighed contentedly. Curiosity overcame him, and he asked to go with you to the next one.

It was several weeks later, but he didn’t let you forget your promise. He sat in the waiting area and watched as your stylist brought you to wash your hair. You grinned happily as the warm water hit your head and groaned with a laugh as she washed your scalp gently. As you two talked in between shampooing and conditioning, he understood. Your head was a little sensitive.

As you walked back to your seat with a hand holding a towel to your hair, you smiled at him and blew him a kiss. And being himself, Caleb just attacked like you shot him straight through the heart. Your giggle made him grin and he watched again as the stylist began brushing it. He noticed she took her time, making sure every tangle was gone and even sweeping all your hair into one hand and brushing up from the back of your neck. He couldn’t have missed the shivers and the way your eyes closed in delight at this action.

As he mentally took notes, he wished he’d realized this sweet spot sooner, planning to use it to his advantage as soon as possible.

Your hair was then blow dried into a style you loved and you couldn’t stop touching it even when the stylist lovingly smacked your hands away so you wouldn’t get it oily too fast.

You bounced over to Caleb and he pulled you in by the waist.

“You look amazing, honey,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss your temple and inhale the sweet scent from your hair.

“Thank you! It’s so soft…” you said, smiling as you brushed it lightly off your shoulder.

He continued complimenting you in order to pay without you noticing. Only when you pulled out your wallet and your stylist gave you a smirk did you understand.

“You smooth talker!” She scolded him, making him and your stylist laugh.

“You should have been using my card this whole time, Pip.”

“I have enough to pay for my own haircuts, Caleb,” you said, only slightly annoyed but mostly still enjoying the leftover tingles in your scalp.

—//—//

The next day, you woke up next to Caleb as usual and snuggled closer into him as he rubbed your back.

“Good morning,” he muttered. You would never tire of his voice raspy with sleep.

“Morning, Cay,” you responded, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him briefly.

“What should we do today?” He asked in between kisses. “Finally a weekend off.”

“Farmers market?” You suggested.

“You read my mind,” he grinned, kissing you deeply.

“Alright. We should get ready now since they open early.”

You begrudgingly rolled out of bed and began your morning routine: washing your face, brushing your teeth, doing your make up, and just as you were about to start the last step, Caleb came up behind you.

“Let me,” he said, grabbing the hair brush from your hand.

“Sure,” you smiled at him through the mirror.

He began brushing small tangles out, gently tugging and apologizing constantly until you told him you had a hard head and it didn’t hurt. Then he brushed it out of your face and your eyes drooped a little. He caught it in the mirror and hid the small smile that threatened to escape. Deciding to copy what your stylist had done, he swooped all of your hair into one hand and put the brush to the back of your neck and brushed upwards. The effect was immediate.

You shivered and closed your eyes, releasing a small, shaky exhale. He did it again and got the same result. He moved the brush slightly to the side and this time, your head lolled forward and you had to grab the countertop for balance.

“Oh my god, that feels so good,” you said with a smile, eyes still closed. He grinned openly and continued his ministrations, only faltering when a small moan sounded in your throat. You mistook his pause as him being done.

“Thanks, Cay. That was amazing,” you said, turning around to beam up at him. You weren’t prepared for the dark, hungry look in his eyes. You gave him a questioning look before he bent down to grab your thighs and haul you back to bed.

“What’s gotten into you?” You questioned, though not at all opposed to this turn of events.

Instead of answering, he leaned down to kiss you breathless, using his ridiculous strength to easily move you to the center of the bed. When he broke away to kiss and lick his way down your jaw and neck, he was panting.

“You know you make little sounds when I brush your hair like that?” He asked, nipping the skin just below your ear. “Drives me crazy…” your responding moan only made his kisses more frenzied.

You pulled at his clothes, trying to get them off as soon as possible while he did the same, opting to stand and rid himself of the offending fabric. You took the opportunity to do the same, kneeling on the mattress in front of him and kissing his exposed torso as he tried to kick off his boxers.

You were growing impatient, eventually grabbing his arms and pulling him back to your side and straddling his waist. He pulled you close quickly and kissed you harder than before, eager for what he knew was coming.

His hands wandered over your exposed skin while yours were on one of his shoulders or tangled into his hair.

“God, you’re too perfect,” he groaned into your collarbone, making sure to leave a bruise there. The little pants you made close to his ear were music to him.

You decided you didn’t need anymore foreplay, reaching down between you to line him up with your opening. A mutual moan escaped both of you as you sat on him fully.

“Oh, my god,” you whined, starting to move your hips in a pattern you knew would make you break quickly.

Caleb was no better, bucking his hips up into you when he could, groaning and cursing when you clenched down on him.

Your hands moved to claw at his shoulder blades but you didn’t expect what he did next.

One of his hands came to the back of your neck and gripped a fistful of hair and pulled it back roughly, earning him a breathy yelp from you. You held onto his biceps as he bit your neck roughly, keeping a firm grip on your hair.

“Oh, FUCK, Caleb!” You nearly yelled, causing his pace to stutter.

The next few moments were a mess of limbs and moans and ecstasy.

You groaned loudly as you came, your thighs burning and Caleb slapping up into you just a few more times before he came too.

As you both came down from your highs panting, you peppered slow kisses across his jaw.

His hands moved to rub your back and hips and thighs, humming in delight as you kissed his lips tenderly.

“Still want to go to the farmers market?” You asked, breathlessly. A chuckle left him as he wrapped his arms around you.

You’re still obsessed with them, years later. 

Even when he doesn’t understand why, staring at the mirror in the early morning or late night, trying to make sense of what made the small dots on his face endearing to you when to him it was just an insecurity. Brows furrowed, lips turned down as he judged his own appearance. 

He hears your footsteps before he sees you. The soft, familiar manner of your feet on the floor– something he could recognize anywhere. You were looking for something in the bedroom, with the way you were opening and closing drawers like you were on a mission. 

When you open the door to the bathroom, your voice echoing against the tiles, he didn’t move from his place in front of the mirror. “Caleb, have you seen my eyeliner? The new one that I just got this week?” 

Your reflection appears behind him, searching around the bathroom, still in his hoodie and when your gaze lands on him, you see the small flicker in his gaze. 

You frown. “What are you doing?” 

“Nothing.” He mumbled, a bit too quickly than he hoped. 

Your eyes narrow immediately.

Caleb looks away first.

The silence stretches for a moment. It's the silence that exists between two people that know each other too well, and in the way you stare at him through the mirror, Caleb knew you always clocked him. 

Your arms cross over your chest, and he avoids your gaze, fixing it on anywhere but your reflection. The sink, the faucet– and the eyeliner you were looking for hidden behind the toothbrush cup. 

That alone tells you enough about what he was doing in front of the mirror, and you sigh. Quietly. “Caleb.”

“Mhm?”

“What were you doing?”

“Nothing.” 

Your frown deepens. His gaze moves to you for only a split second, before you catch him looking at his own reflection. It’s a short moment, but you could see the way he looked at the freckles scattered across his cheeks and nose. Then it clicks, and your expressions soften. “Oh.” 

His jaw tightens, and he avoids your soft gaze again. 

The silence that follows is heavier than the last one. It’s not heavy, nor uncomfortable. But vulnerable in a way that Caleb doesn’t let himself be around you too often. 

Because he is supposed to be the strong one. The protector. 

And to him, it’s stupid that this measly negative thought on his own features is making him this way. 

"They're still there." His voice comes out quieter than expected.

You blink. "What?"

"The freckles."

For a second, you simply stare at him. Then you almost laugh.

Not because it's funny. But because of course that's what had him standing in front of the mirror at six in the morning looking like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. "They've been there your entire life, baby."

"I know."

"So why are you surprised?"

"I'm not surprised."

"You seem surprised." 

He shoots you a look that makes you smile. He groans, just as you laugh. “There you are.”

“What?” Caleb frowns.

“You’re finally looking at me.”

He pauses, and the soft look in your eyes makes his ears turn pink. Your smile only widens as you step towards him. Your arms wrap around his waist, and you peer through the side to the mirror, humming. Caleb relaxes against you, moving you until you’re standing next to him in the mirror. Your eyes meet his through the mirror, then it drifts downwards to his freckles. 

There are more than most people notice. Tiny constellations scattered over warm skin.

Some  are darker than others. Some are barely visible unless sunlight hits them just right.

You have every single one memorized. A fact Caleb would never recover from if you told him.

Unfortunately for him, you decide honesty is important in relationships: "I think I know at least twenty-seven of them."

His eyes widen. “What?”

“Twenty-seven.” You tilt your head up at him to look more closely at his face. His eyes are widened slightly, brows furrowed, voice pitched slightly higher in disbelief. “You counted?”

“Maybe.” You shrug.

“You counted.”

“Maybe.”

“You;re insane.” 

You grin, and lean up to peck his cheeks. “I know.”

Caleb lets out a mix of a laugh and a huff. His ears are completely red now, the flush spreading to his cheeks as he shuts his eyes at the absurdity of you counting his freckles. 

When he opens them again, he catches you staring. Again. 

It’s not like you hide it, at this point. 

His voice drops into a mutter. “I don’t get it.”

“Hm?” You meet his gaze. 

“I don’t get why you like them so much.” 

You tilt your head and watch him carefully. You watch the uncertainty hiding beneath his expression, the remnants of old words. Old comments. Old wounds. Things said carelessly by people who probably forgot them the moment they spoke, but they were things that Caleb had quietly carried for years.

You reach up, and your fingers brush against his cheek. Gentle. Careful. 

As though touching something precious.

Because to you, he is.

Your thumb glides over the bridge of his nose. Over the freckles resting there.

Caleb's breath catches, and you smile softly.

"Because they're yours."

His eyes flicker. 

You continue before he can interrupt. "I don't like them because they're perfect." His gaze remains fixed on yours as you continue, your fingers still on his skin, tracing lines between his freckles. "I like them because when I think of you, I think of them. When I picture your face, I picture your freckles." You laugh quietly, "You know, when I was younger, I used to think they looked like stars."

His expression falters.

And you know you've won the moment he looks away. Because Caleb only looks away when he's overwhelmed.

"I still do."

His throat moves and Caleb looks back at you. Your other hand moves to the back of his neck, pulling him a bit closer so you could trace more of the freckles. "They make you look like you."

You cup his face. His hands immediately find your waist, like its instinct to him. And really, it is.

"There isn't a version of Caleb in my head without them."

Your smile softens.

"And honestly? You'd be less cute without them."

"Don't."

"You would."

He grumbles your name.

"You absolutely would."

"Stop."

"I think I'd cry."

"You would not cry."

"I'd mourn."

Caleb drops his forehead against your shoulder with a groan. A genuine one this time, one not out of frustration. Just hopeless, because just by your hands on his face, and your sweet, embarrassing words, he has been completely and utterly defeated by you.

You laugh, wrapping your arms around him, and his arms tighten around you immediately.

The bathroom falls quiet again. But this silence feels different.

Comfortable– Warm.

After a while, you feel him nudge his face against your neck, followed by his muffled voice."Twenty-seven?"

You burst out laughing.

"I knew you were still thinking about that."

"Twenty-seven?"

"Actually, it might be thirty."

Caleb makes a sound that suggests he's reconsidering every life choice that led him here.

You only smile wider and gently move his face up so you could press a kiss against his temple. Then to his cheeks – like you were kissing every single dot on his face.

Until his face is burning red enough to rival the sunrise peeking through the bathroom window.

The funny thing is, Caleb never truly learns to love his freckles.

Not the way you do. Not the way you look at them, like they're something worth admiring.

He can't rival the way you love it.

But over the years, he slowly stops hiding them. Stops treating it like something wrong on his face.

Because whenever he catches himself doing it, he remembers the way you look at him.

Like every freckle is something precious.

Like every single one belongs exactly where it should.

And Caleb stops frowning at the sight of them in the mirror.

He Absolutely Adores Calling You “My Wife”

This man abuses the privilege immediately.

Constantly.

“That is my wife.”

“Have you met my wife?”

“My wife made this.”

“My wife is prettier than all of you, actually.”

Completely shameless.

And every single time he says it, he sounds proud.

Husband Caleb Is Extremely Affectionate

There is no such thing as personal space anymore.

You are getting:

hugs from behind

random kisses

hand holding

forehead nudges

him flopping dramatically onto you when tired

If you walk past him?

He is touching you somehow.

He Makes Home Feel Warm

With Caleb, home becomes alive.

Music playing. Food cooking. His laughter from another room. You hearing him call your name just because he wants your attention.

Everything feels softer when he is around.

He Loves Domestic Life More Than He Expected

Caleb genuinely enjoys doing mundane things with you.

Especially:

grocery shopping

cooking together

late night snack runs

decorating for holidays

arguing playfully over what to watch

He makes ordinary moments feel important.

He Is Protective But Playful About It

Most of the time, his protectiveness comes out as teasing.

“Careful.” “You are banned from hurting yourself.” “Do you know how expensive hospital bills are?”

But when something actually happens to you?

The humour disappears instantly.

And that change is terrifying.

He Worries Constantly

Even if he hides it behind smiles.

texts to make sure you got home

reminders to eat

checking if you slept enough

asking about your day in detail

He notices more than people think.

Especially when it comes to you.

He Loves Physical Closeness While Sleeping

Caleb is absolutely the type to:

pull you against him

wrap himself around you

complain if you get out of bed too early

Half asleep: “Come back.”

And somehow you always do.

Husband Caleb Is Your Biggest Hype Man

This man supports you aggressively.

You mention a goal once and suddenly he is:

encouraging you constantly

bragging about you to others

reminding you how capable you are

No one believes in you louder than Caleb does.

He Is Surprisingly Soft After Arguments

Arguments hit him harder than he lets on.

He hates distance between you.

Even if he is frustrated, he still:

checks if you ate

asks if you got home safely

hovers nearby

And eventually?

He always comes back softer.

“I do not like fighting with you.”

He Secretly Loves Married Routines

Things he pretends not to care about but absolutely does:

wearing matching rings

shared closets

your things mixed with his

introducing you as his spouse

hearing you call him “husband”

It makes him ridiculously happy.

He Gets Jealous More Easily Than He Admits

Not toxic jealousy.

But visible jealousy.

pouting

clinging more

interrupting conversations to steal your attention

If someone flirts with you too much?

Suddenly his arm is around your shoulders.

“Sorry,” he says casually. “Married.”

The smug smile afterward is unbearable.

He Loves Making You Laugh

One of Caleb’s favourite sounds is your laughter.

He will:

tease you

tell terrible jokes

act dramatic on purpose

Just to hear it.

And if you laugh really hard?

He looks at you like he just won something.

Sick Days With Husband Caleb

He becomes unbearably attentive.

making soup

piling blankets on you

checking your forehead every ten minutes

dramatically accusing you of “betraying your immune system”

But underneath the teasing?

He is genuinely worried.

He stays close the entire time.

Underneath Everything…

Caleb loves with his whole heart.

Openly. Warmly. Without hesitation.

Marriage with him feels like:

safety

laughter

loyalty

being adored every day without doubt

The kind of love that fills every corner of your life until you cannot imagine loneliness anymore.

Overall Husband Caleb Energy

warm hugs

teasing kisses

laughter in the kitchen

“come here for a second”

dancing badly together

falling asleep tangled together

and as you pushed open the doors of his bedroom, you shouldn't have been surprised by the sight before you. it was almost overwhelming, not just the scene unfolding, but the thought, the effort, the care, that he had put into every single detail.

the usually dark and imposing room had been transformed. now bathed with soft candlelight, banishing the shadows with its warm glow. red roses had been placed everywhere, standing in vases, trailing along the walls… their delicate petals scattered across the floor.

a very subtle, romantic music filled the air, the daybed by the large wall-scaled windows laden with all of the gifts he had already given you throughout the day, and his bed - which always looked luxurious by default - had a very peculiar box perched on top of a soft cushion.

"baby, you really didn't have to do all of this," you say, eyes wide and mesmerized by the glowing lights and pretty flowers.

sylus chuckled softly behind you at your awed expression as you took in the sight. you could only imagine how ridiculous you looked, like a deer caught in the headlights or a child in a candy store.

he steps closer, his fingers brushing lightly against your waist as he leans in just enough for you to catch the faint scent of his cologne mixed with something darker, something distinctly him.

his voice is low, a murmur against your ear. "you're right. i didn't have to," a smirk curls at the edge of his lips as he pulls back slightly, red eyes glinting with amusement. "but, kitten, i keep my promises, and i promised i was going to spoil you, did i not?"

his fingers trail up your arm, teasingly slow, before he tugs you gently toward the bed where that box sits. the cushion beneath it is silk - black, of course - and the box itself is sleek, obsidian, with a single red ribbon tied around it.

"open it," he urges, voice dropping into something dangerously soft.

your body obeys without question, not even trying to deny just how under his control you were sometimes. your fingers tremble as they close around the bow, your heart thumping against your chest, anticipation making your senses spiral.

sylus stands beside you, watching closely as you untie the ribbon, your movements almost adoring. the lid of the box opens with a soft click, revealing the contents. the interior is lined with black velvet, and nestled within is a small object.

"a necklace," you breathe. it's a thin silver chain, glinting and delicate, with a single, stunning red gemstone pendant.

you can feel his gaze on you, heavy and intent as you lift out the necklace. it's beautiful - catching the candlelight in a way that's almost magical. he chuckles softly, the sound rich with satisfaction.

he then tugs you towards the large mirror, his fingers brushing against your collarbone and sending a shiver down your spine as he carefully fastens the clasp around your neck. he then presses his head to the side of yours, his eyes roaming over you.

"it's not just any stone either," he murmurs, admiring how the gem dangles against your skin.

"it doesn't look it," you admit, meeting his gaze as your fingers trail up to gently grasp the pendant.

"it's an alexandrite," he says, thumb circling on the nape of your neck, causing you to shiver faintly once more. "do you know its significance?"

you shake your head and he hums softly under his breath, his hand never leaving your skin.

"alexandrite…" he begins, his voice smooth and steady, "… is a stone known for its unique change of colour under different lighting." his gaze flicks to the gemstone, to the way it catches the candlelight, and then back to your face. "in the daylight, it appears to be green or blue. but at night…"

"…it's red."

he nods, the small, satisfied smile growing wider. "yes, in the darker hours, the stone takes on a deep, red hue."

he lets the silence settle for a moment, allowing you to process the information. his thumb has stilled, resting on the soft flesh of your neck, his eyes on your face through the mirror.

"do you know why i chose the stone for you?" he leans in closer, lips close to your ears.

"no… but i'm sure you're about to tell me," you gently tease and watch as he exhales sharply through his nose. it's not quite a laugh, but something close.

"cheeky," he murmurs, though his tone is all fondness.

then, with deliberate slowness, he leans in even more, his lips brushing just below your ear as he speaks, his breath warm against your skin.

"because…" he says, his voice lower. "… just like this stone, you change me."

your breath stutters, heat rushing to your cheeks at his words, at the intimacy of the moment. his lips are close, so close, each syllable sending little sparks through your body.

"and how…" you manage to ask through the sudden dryness in your throat, "do i change you?"

the words have barely left your lips when his hand tightens around your arm and he turns you around to face him now.

his eyes bore into yours, dark and intense, and you feel pinned there, captivated. "you…" he answers, his thumb tracing a path along your jawline. "you make me soft."

the word 'soft' sounds foreign coming from him. he's always been rough around the edges, sharp, dangerous, unyielding. and yet… there's a vulnerability in his gaze when he looks at you. it's like a secret, one reserved solely for you.

"and is that a bad thing?" your voice is so small, so quiet.

he chuckles, shaking his head in mock disbelief. his other hand comes up, cups your face gently as he leans in, almost brushing his nose against yours.

"no…" he whispers, gaze intense and tender at the same time, "god, no. with anyone else, being soft may be seen as a weakness. but not with you."

his thumb brushed over your bottom lip, tracing the contour. his eyes follow the movement, almost like he's memorising every curve. "never with you."

your heart stutters at his words, the tender sincerity of it all touching you in ways you never thought anything ever would. his touch is gentle, as if you were made of glass and he was scared of breaking you. it feels almost surreal, like a dream, but the way his calloused fingers graze your skin, the way he holds you, is as real as it gets.

"sylus…" you murmur, the word almost catching in your throat. the way he's looking at you, the way he's speaking, is making it hard to think, to breathe.

he doesn't let you finish. he doesn't need to. his lips crash against yours in a kiss that steals the breath from your lungs, his hands gripping your waist to pull you flush against him. it's hungry, possessive, yet somehow still achingly tender. when he finally pulls back, just enough to let you gasp for air, his forehead rests against yours, his smirk smug but his voice rough with sincerity.

"shhh… just let me adore you, sweetheart."

and then he's kissing you again, deeper this time, the necklace's gemstone pressed warm between your skin and his chest. it's proof that even the hardest things can change under the right light.

you melt into the kiss, clinging to him like a lifeline, the world outside disappearing under the array of sensations. your fingers grip at his shoulders, his shirt, anything to ground yourself as the kiss deepens.

his hands roam over your back, leaving trails of fire in their wake. one slips beneath the skirt of your dress, his palm flat against your thigh, as he guides you backward until your knees hit the bed and he gently pushes you down.

he follows, pinning you beneath him as he continues the kiss, his body flush against yours. his weight is heavy, but not uncomfortable. if anything, it's reassuring, a reminder that for this moment, you're completely his.

he breaks the kiss, but only to trail his lips down your jawline, your neck, your collarbone. each press of his mouth makes you shiver, your breath coming faster as you arch into him, seeking more contact, more touch, more of him.

"sy…." you pant helplessly, the warmth in your core already consuming you.

his lips ghost over the hollow of your throat - his favourite spot - before he murmurs against your skin. "i know." his hand skims higher up your thigh, fingertips teasing, deliberately slow.

the gemstone dangles between you, catching candlelight as it shifts from red to green in the flickering glow - just like him. hard and ruthless to the world, but unravelling, changing, for you.

﹕ © 𝓭𝐢𝐠𝓲𝐭𝐚𝓵𝐡𝐨𝓮 ⋆˚࿔ 𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟔. ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა

𝓵𝐨𝐨𝐤𝓲𝐧𝐠 𝓯𝐨𝐫 𝓶𝐨𝐫𝐞 .ᐣ library taglist form guidelines

𐙚˙⋆.˚ caleb! ꒰੭

it was so hot you could melt on the spot, hence why you asked your best friend if he could wait with a cold treat for when you came over.

naturally, he waited for you on the balcony, trying to get some fresh air since the apartment felt like an oven, even with the ac on.

he bought you a popsicle, which had been in the fridge until you came.

however, since it was way too hot, he started eating his as slowly as he could, hoping you wouldn't whine about him being impatient.

when you finally arrived, you were sweaty and breathing heavily, looking for anything that could cool you down.

instead of patiently going to the fridge and retrieving your favorite popsicle caleb diligently got for you, you walked towards him and took a bite out of the one he was holding.

the one he was eating.

the one that had been on his mouth.

the one that touched his lips and tongue.

his eyes went slightly wide as he watched you not only steal his cold treat, but… share something so shamelessly.

was he making it weirder than it actually was?

absolutely.

but were you giving him an indirect kiss?

yes.

yes, you were.

your tongue swirled where his tongue had been just seconds ago, and—

dear god.

“gosh, it's hot as hell today,” you mumbled, fanning your face with your hand before handing the popsicle back.

it sure fucking was.

“sorry for taking yours, i needed to freeze my brain. where's mine, by the way?”

caleb was still speechless, the image of your lips, your relief, your expression…

you probably tasted like the popsicle now, and since he had the same flavor on his tongue, he could almost say he was savoring you.

he could also imagine your tongue swirling against his, so soft and wet, so sweet, and… and… and—

“leb? you should head back inside!” you called out, walking towards the kitchen without him even noticing. “you're getting sunburned and red already!”

oh.

if you only knew it wasn't because of the sun…

he quickly moved and offered his popsicle back, his strong back covering the fridge entirely so you wouldn't peek inside.

“take it. i… forgot yours,” he said, to which you arched an eyebrow.

him?

forgetting?

“huh?” you didn't believe him at first, but seeing his flushed expression made you mistake it for sheepishness. “so you were eating mine, you thief? how nice of you, really…”

and yeah, he preferred being incriminated rather than stop seeing your lips doing whatever they were doing before.

you kept licking the melting popsicle absentmindedly, cooling yourself down while he stood there feeling like he was being slowly cooked alive instead.

“this flavor's really good, though,” you hummed.

yeah. he knew.

he could still taste it.

god, this was humiliating.

“you want some back?” you asked sweetly, offering it towards him again.

caleb nearly choked on air.

because now all he could think about was your saliva on the popsicle, your lips wrapped around it moments ago, your tongue—

“no,” he answered way too fast. “take it, angel.”

“you sure…? alright.”

he turned his face away immediately, resting a hand over his mouth as if that could somehow stop the disaster unfolding inside his head.

this heatwave was going to kill him eventually.

but this was as close as he got to knowing what a kiss from your lips tasted like, and he would enjoy the view a little bit more, even if it was the last thing he did.~

𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel! ꒰੭

he wouldn't lie, his ego was bruised after an admirer of his suggested a lip balm, since his lips looked a bit chapped during a conference.

but, hey, he lived under the sun, and he was constantly biting his lips when focusing, it was only natural!

usually, those comments didn't affect him, but this one… it got to him.

he wondered if you thought the same, if maybe you looked at his lips and considered them crusty and dry as the desert.

he could die of shame.

and so he bought said lip balm, “just because,” and because it was a “bargain.”

of course, since you went to his house quite a lot and considered yourself the second owner of everything, —because he let you, and because it was fun to prance around his huge place, acting high and mighty— you helped yourself to the interesting things he had, and one of the best places to explore was his bathroom.

he had tons of lotions, soaps, oils, salts, and… oh!

was that a lip balm?

just what you needed.

you hummed as you made a duck face in front of the mirror and dramatically applied the clear product to your already nourished and hydrated lips.

rafayel walked by, and immediately stopped in his tracks, his head tilting ridiculously.

his pretty eyes travelled across your hands, your lips, and then the counter.

you were, indeed, using his lip balm.

your lips were touching what he had been using that very same morning.

on his lips.

your lips.

his lips.

oh dear lord.

his knees buckled, yet he leaned against the doorframe, acting as if it were a nonchalant gesture.

“so, uh… you… you just come into my house and take ownership of everything, cutie?” his voice came out steady, thankfully, but the furious pink tainting his cheeks became more pronounced when you grinned unapologetically.

“yup!” you nodded, pressing your lips together. “this brand is so good, too!”

right.

not only were you stealing his stuff, but you were stealing his heart, too.

“why do you have one anyway? your lips aren't even dry,” you asked, turning to him and placing a hand on your hip. “or is it to make your lips look more luscious?”

he grinned automatically, bowing oh so deeply.

so you thought his lips looked good? that was amazing news.

“thank you, thank you. i knew people with good taste still lived among us…” he straightened up, only to find you getting closer. “but i just like to have one… just in case.”

“hmmm… here, put some on,” you offered.

and, once again, his confidence disappeared as quickly as it came, because the lip balm touched his lips, which meant your lips were indirectly touching his now… which also meant it was definitely considered a kiss.

“there! so glossy!” you grinned, rubbing your thumb against the corner of his lip to get rid of any excess. “you're welcome.~”

rafayel turned around abruptly, using his hands to cool down his burning face.

how could his heart possibly resist the mental image of what your soft lips would feel like against his, and then your tongue—

no!

“you— you… you can keep it. i don't really need it,” he stuttered, before fleeing into the next room with long strides and his eyes shut tightly.

you blinked, confused, but then smiled brightly.

you successfully got your hands on another thing of his, which took you a step further in becoming the owner of everything.

and that included his heart and soul, even when you didn't intend to.~

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus! ꒰੭

you walked inside the living room after spending the entire day with the twins, and thought it would be a fantastic idea to bother your pesky partner in crime for a while.

he did the very same exact thing whenever you thought you'd have peace, so it was only fair.

he was obviously occupied with his phone, scrolling down with one finger, glasses perched over his sharp nose as he tried to decipher your “omg gaggg, fierce is fierce hunni xxx” comment under one of his posts.

he was still processing the twins' lingo, and you weren't helping at all.

you plopped down next to him and poked his cheek, grinning from ear to ear.

“what are you doing, sy? playing games? reading the news? online shopping?” you rested your chin on his shoulder, following his finger like a kitten watching a laser.

“i am browsing the net,” he simply said, to which you hummed in contemplation.

after some seconds of pure silence, you started to bounce by his side, poking his cheek, taking off his glasses, and, ultimately, picking up his mug and drinking some of his coffee.

usually, sylus would let you do as you pleased until you got bored and eventually walked out of the room, but…

there was something different today; something in the way your lips touched the very same spot his had earlier, without any shame at all.

he paused, looking at you, before looking down at your lips, his head now full of interesting… thoughts.

if your lips were over a spot he previously put his on, then you were tasting what his lips were like.

almost.

you probably tasted the coffee way more, but now the mug had a mix of both yours and sylus' mouths, and that, subsequently, described what a kiss was.

…or, well, technically.

“ugh, why's your coffee so bitter…? you need to sweeten up, sylus!” you pulled the mug away and placed it down. “do you enjoy suffering so much?”

ironically, you licked your lips clean; a bold move for someone who apparently despised his coffee.

it only made his pupils dilate a bit more, given your tongue now tasted what remained of him.

it sounded way more intimate than it really was inside his head, but this instinctive, almost primal curiosity was getting ahead of him.

“perhaps,” he mumbled.

when you least expected it, he took the mug, having carefully watched where and how you took a sip, just to replicate it seconds later.

now he was tasting your lips for a change, and while it wasn't the real thing, it sure as hell made him feel alive, even when his face was once again focused on the screen, and his expression remained calm.

you were too oblivious to notice this unintentional exchange of indirect kisses; and it wasn't as if you'd mind, either.

maybe sylus would actually kiss you one day.

after all, you were already “poking” his interest, both figuratively and literally.

but today wasn't that day; not when he knew you weren't being purposely charming.

instead, he grabbed your waist and pushed you away when you tried to climb onto his lap like a clingy cat.

“stay put,” he quietly said. “and don't touch my coffee if you find it so… appalling.”

but oh, he knew that would only make you finish it out of spite, and that's exactly what you did, once again creating that brief connection between the two of you.

he would now think of more ways to get you to (technically) kiss him so, so shamelessly and eagerly.~

𐙚˙⋆.˚ xavier! ꒰੭

xavier and you were having a lazy day, surrounded by snacks, board games you guys had become too bored with, and the low melody of your favorite playlist playing in the background.

you were munching on some popcorn, all while xavier opened a new little box, almost a little bit too secretly.

it's not like he didn't like to share, but… somehow, every time he opened a snack, your supersonic hearing made you turn to him and ask him to give you some, which ended up in him giving everything to you.

come on, he just couldn't resist your pretty eyes and your hopeful expression without feeling like a monster.

and since he was being way too quiet and sneaky all of a sudden, you obviously turned to him, finding a long, chocolate-covered stick between his teeth.

his eyes went a bit wide, knowing he had been caught in the act.

“gotcha…” you whispered, narrowing your eyes. “what's that?”

he didn't answer; still like a petrified bunny being cornered by wolves.

or, in this case, a very hungry and charming big, bad wolf.

you crawled closer to him on the sofa, outstretching your hand.

“sharing is caring, xavi,” you mumbled, trying to sound sweet, but it only made him lean back, further away from you. “come oooon, be nice…”

he didn't want to.

he knew that once he gave you the box, you wouldn't share a single pocky, and this time, he put himself first.

however, what he didn't expect was for you to cage him in and take a bite out of the sticking-out end of the pocky, barely brushing his lips as you did so.

his body shut down right there, and while his jaw wanted to snap open, he wouldn't risk losing the other half and let you get a full victory.

“there, you can keep your half,” you grinned victoriously after swallowing, taking the box from his slender fingers. “let's see, almond chocolate-covered pocky, limited edition…”

your voice faded in his mind as he stayed there, frozen and shocked.

your lips had… had touched his, albeit faintly.

but they had.

your face was so close to his, your lips were so soft, your scent invaded his nostrils unapologetically…

his entire face became flushed, his azure eyes travelling anywhere but your face.

he wanted that to happen again, and again, and again.

so, when he finally came to his senses, he opened yet another bag of snacks, which contained spicy chips this time, and he placed one between his teeth, acting all secretive again.

as expected, you jerked your head around and narrowed your eyes.

“keeping more secrets from me, huh? what's that?”

he tried to pull back, acting oh so guilty, and you basically took a bite so quickly he barely had time to register that your precious lips had brushed against his again.

this was heaven.

“you've got a secret stash or something? because that's not very nice of you, y'know?” you sighed and shook your head dramatically. “every time you share with me, new flowers bloom, by the way. just so you know.”

well.

if that was the case, he'd gladly feed you from his lips so that spring would last forever.

he pulled another pocky stick from the box and placed it between his lips, his voice now slightly taunting, even when his eyes held that faux innocence and surrender.

“come get it…”

and it worked, since you gladly took another bite, this time not noticing xavier's pursed lips and closed eyes.

maybe sharing everything with you wouldn't be so bad anymore.~

𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne! ꒰੭

it was late at night, and you were still in the kitchen, watching and trying out all of those cooking hacks and easy recipes you saved on your phone.

of course, you ended up with thousands of different dishes and snacks, and you had no idea what to do with all of them, so… you called the only sane, nocturnal person who would come over after work.

zayne.

he usually ended up starving after his shifts, and you knew he would always say yes to you, no matter how frustrating it was for him.

after a few hours, said doctor was at your door, not knowing what to expect other than a few containers with food that would certainly save him a lot of time.

however, when you pulled him inside, he saw lots of differently shaped apples, homemade chips, uh… carrot gummies (for some reason), multiple, muuuultiple ways of cooking potatoes, healthy chocolate bars, and, thankfully, lasagna in the oven.

you grinned proudly, gesturing towards your kitchen with a tired but pleased expression.

“now… you're witnessing something amazing,” you nodded seriously. “not only will you have the best snacks of your life, but you'll learn how easy they were to make!”

oh god.

this would take hours.

you explained each plate with excitement, pushing your failures into the trash without blinking, smiling as if you didn't know what was going on.

“the best part is, i nailed everything on the first try!”

“...of course you did.”

the more he looked around, the more he noticed the mess.

he was about to complain, when you appeared with a spoon, guiding it to his lips.

“try it,” you urged, not even giving him time to process as you pushed your hand further.

he blinked in surprise before watching you take said spoon to your lips, licking it softly.

“good, no? that was the new mashed potatoes recipe i saw…” and as you kept talking, zayne's brain went blank.

the only thing replaying in his mind was how you took the spoon out of his mouth and licked it clean yourself.

the spoon.

the one that touched his tongue—

his ears went red almost immediately, and you tilted your head.

“oh no, is it too spicy? i swear i only added a dash of pepper! …or was it cayenne pepper? hold on—”

he was frozen in place, unmoving, unreactive.

his glasses fogged up, and he didn't even register the mild burn on his tongue.

he was way more focused on your tongue, or rather, your tongue touching his.

not directly.

but his mind quickly painted said picture, and it wasn't unpleasant; quite the contrary, really.

he could almost taste your lips, feel the foreign sensation of your tongues tangled together, and—

…and you came back with a glass of milk, pouting slightly.

“sorry! i might've gotten a bit excited with the spices… it's okay if you don't want any! i'll pack the rest of the food so that you have something to eat for weeks!” you eagerly announced, and he took the glass, taking a sip.

“it… is fine. do not forget the lasagna.”

he needed to freshen up, like, immediately.

but what he also needed was to stop imagining sharing more things with you, like this glass, or a lollipop, or… or a kiss.

a lingering, direct kiss that made him flush even harder than the spices did.

“oh, right! i haven't tried it yet,” you softly said. “wanna try it out, zaynie?”

from your lips or a shared spoon?

oh boy.

anytime.~