integra!

While you were busy rushing off with a whine, overthinking and already planning how your funeral would go, because Flins was definitely following you around to kill you and quietly dispose of you body. You had upset some sort of lantern spirit and it had snitched to the one light keeper that it could talk to, and now your fate was sealed!

"I'm sorryyyyyy, lantern ghost!" you whined, footsteps leading to Paha isle.

Flins watched you run off, his gaze soft and curious, but a small pout on his lips that went unnoticed. His eyes snapped back to the old shopkeeper when the man began to speak again. "Stop scaring her away, Flins," he sighed and packaged the Rye before handing it to the light keeper, "Just get it done by today," he said, face darkening, almost grim, and placing something extra into the bag.

Flins hummed, his face straight, as he paid for the Rye and took the bag. His eyes downcast. "I will… after all, I know where my lady is going. I'll be a gentleman, as always. Have no worries, Mr. Aleksov." 

The old man nodded, handing Flins a packet of tissues. His grey, tired eyes only sparing Flins a glance before focusing on other customers. "Keep your hands clean, be quick and done with it." The words were quiet, but enough for a wandering Dori to hear, and look over confused with wide eyes.

"Are they… planning a murder?" she gasped, before smirking and looking off into the distance, rubbing her chin, "Heh, I could make good money selling caskets."

. . .

You had wandered over to Final night cemetery, walking slowly across the dark and gloomy terrain. There were ghost candles lit all over the place, and you could've sworn that you heard whispers around you. "save us… save ussss…" you shivered at your imagination, slowly walking up the hill area to try and find the lantern ghost you had seen last time.

"uheee…. mr. purple lantern ghost, where are you?" you whispered, shivering before looking up at the lighthouse. The fog closing in around you. 

The silence around you was deafening, and it was most definitely scaring you down to your bones. Taking you back to the night you had first seen that purple, glowing lantern. 

It had been almost two months ago, when you had wandered over to Paha isle. You had seen some of the wild hunt nearby and killed them, before hearing whispers and hallucinating ghosts in the fog from your sleepiness. You had rushed over to Paha isle by mistake, going the wrong way instead of making your way back to Nasha town in your confused state. 

"Oh," you had muttered, when the fog cleared up, and you had seen the lighthouse guiding you, instead of the comforting bustle of the town you lived in. You were about to turn around and make your way back, before you noticed the purple glow. Almost like it was calling your name, you followed and walked up to it through the fog, finding a floating purple lantern. 

It was almost like it was magical, just hovering there, glowing. No one around.

The words of Aino had drifted back into your mind, as she had made you read story books with her and one of them talked about a magical oil lamp that granted wishes. "No one uses oil lamps in in Nod Krai, I bet its the magical lanterns that carry genies and wishes!" she had nodded confidently. 

You weren't gullible, nor one to easily believe superstitions and follow them without question. Though… it couldn't hurt, right?

Your hands gently placed on the sides of the lamp, rubbing it gently, before you took them back and clasped your hands together. Squeezing your eyes shut and whispering, "puh-lease get me a beautiful boyfriend who's a gentleman and loves me and worships me, please, please, please!" you shook your hands before looking up at the sky with a sigh. 

The lantern had flickered a little, as you hesitated before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on the handle of it. When you pulled back, the lantern shook a little, making you step back worried, and look around confused. You had rushed back to Nasha town after that, brushing off the experience as a dream, until now. 

"Am I gonna die? Oh mr. or mrs. lantern, I'm sorry for kissing your handle," present-day-you whined, before you felt a cold breath against your cheek. 

"What are you doing, Miss Y/N?"

You shrieked, freezing up and quickly back away from the man, holding up your hands in front of him. It was the light keeper. The one you always took a second glance at whenever you used your see him, because whoever got to call him as his partner was destined with unimaginable luck. Flins looked unbothered and even tilted his head to the side, confused.

"I know what you're gonna say!" You whined out, and dropped to your knees dramatically. Flins was strong, he was scary, and even if he took your life because you had upset some lantern ghost, you probably wouldn't fight back just because you didn't want to ruin his beautiful face.

"You do?" his eyes widened for a fraction, before he hummed and nodded, holding the small bag to his side. "I see, I thought I was more… quiet about my advances." he muttered, rubbing his chin gently, in thought.

You sighed and nodded, head downcast, pouting and already thinking over your death. "I didn't know what I was doingggg.. the lantern was just… calling my name!" you gasped out, as he shook his head. "It was not," he corrected bluntly, making you sigh wearily. Your hands buried in the soil. 

A few seconds passed, before you both spoke up at the same time. You blurting out your words. As he spoke eloquently.

"Please don't murder me!"

"Would you grace me with a potential romantic encounter, miss Y/N?"

You both froze, before meeting each other's eyes. equally confused. Flins eyes were narrowed, looking down in genuine confusion and slight shock. The most expressive you had ever seen him. Your eyes were widened, mouth agape slightly, and heat rushing to your face. Did… did the Kyryll Chudomirovich Flins just ask you out? On a date? Were you in heaven?

"What?" both voices spoke out at the same time.

Flins shook his head, looking at you utterly helpless and bamboozled as you stood up and dusted your hands off. “You’re not going to murder me…? B-but you were stalking me and obviously planning to kill me off because I upset the lantern ghost of Paha Isle!”

Flins looked side to side slowly before raising an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

You sighed and lolled back your head before explaining to him exasperatedly. “Two months ago, I went to this place, like—“ you pointed over to some shrubbery alongside a crumbling stone wall, “—over there! I saw this glowing purple lantern and I walked up to it and rubbed it and wished for a boyfriend,” you nodded to him in complete seriousness.

“…so what makes you assume that I’d hurt you for wishing upon a floating lantern?” He raised an eyebrow, beginning to smile a little, starting to understand what was happening. He really wanted to see the look on your face when he revealed the truth now. He had prepared a big speech explaining all of his feelings, but you had thrown his whole planned confession out the window.

You blinked, once, twice, before awkwardly scratching the back of your head. “I’m starting to see that I was being a bit… irrational,” you nodded slowly.

“A bit?” He smiled, before handing you the paper bag, to which you looked inside curiously. Rye, and…

“Cupcakes. I had Mr. Aleksov prepare them especially for your tastes,” he hummed to you, watching as your confused expression flickered up to him before your eyes widened. “Oh! Oh, right, because you were going to ask me out…” you nodded, before pursing your lips and looking up at him confused. “But we’ve barely spoken to one another before this, why the sudden interest in me?”

He curtly nodded, before taking out the familiar glowing purple lantern and fading before your eyes. It only took 2.3 seconds for you to connect the dots, his figure reappearing when he saw that shy, “oh my god, what have I done?” look on your face.

“I was the lantern you wished upon,” he told you gleefully, tilting his head to the side with a teasing smile.

A whine escaped your lips, as you were contemplating burying yourself in the soil right then and there. “After hearing about your wish, I thought that you were a gorgeous young lady that deserved love, and after the… kiss,” he nodded, watching your eyes squeeze shut and hand cover your face. “I thought that I deserved to give you love. I never planned to stalk you, per se, but every time I tried to strike a conversation or anything with you…”

“I ran away,” you nodded, letting out an embarrassed whine and finishing his sentence.

He hummed, before taking the bag from your hands and offering you the cupcake. “My hands are pretty dirty,” you shrugged, still embarrassed and hating yourself inside your brain. “STUPID STUPID STUPID” kept bouncing around in your head.

Before you knew it, the cupcake was pressed against your lips, heat rushing to your cheeks and the tips of your ears, you took a bite out of it. Being fed by possibly the most handsome man in all of Teyvat.

“I’ve had a crush on you for a while…” you mumbled, swallowing and beginning to talk to him softly, as he listened carefully. “You saved me from the wild hunt around a year ago, and ever since then I’ve just thought you were so cool, and strong, and handsome,” you were whining, hands covering your cheeks shyly.

He didn’t hesitate, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss against your lips.

You froze, before feeling his lips dart out and lick up the tiny bit of icing on the corner of your lips, making your squeal embarrassed and quickly look away from him. Hands covering your face, heart beating faster than it was when you thought he was about to kill you.

“I hope you’ll entertain me for that date, my lady,” he spoke softly against your ear, smiling as he knew exactly what he was doing.

Smug bastard.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who serves you impeccably. He picks up your schedule, your routine, and your habits within days, almost as if he had memorized them beforehand. He learns how you like your tea and coffee, the face you make when you’re stressed, and all the little, tiny details about you that’d make serving you that much easier.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who is respected by the entire estate. He treats everybody equally, regardless of position, with the same kind tone and warm smile that has many of the younger maids swooning. He is always there to lend a hand, no matter how busy he may be, and somehow, he always seems to get everything done perfectly.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who gradually replaces the household staff until none of the servants who are familiar with you remain. He makes sure that the new servants do not get close to you by twisting bits of the truth — that you are reserved, that you are incredibly busy, that you dislike people who chatter.

Eventually, your once lively manor turns into a quiet and lonely place. You don’t even know what caused that change, and you attribute it to the fact your parents are no longer around. They were always much more sociable than you were. Perhaps the new servants simply needed more time to warm up to you. (Though that would never happen, unbeknownst to you.)

And who do you turn to in the meantime?

Your loyal butler, of course.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who becomes your only companion in the massive ducal estate. As your trusted friend and confidante, he’s the first person you’d turn to whenever you had something to say. He never fails to listen with a patient smile, and always has a thoughtful response in return.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who ‘advises’ you on how to navigate high society. As the third son of a marquis, he was not named successor — nevertheless, he is also of noble blood, thus giving him experience in that field as well.

He warns you to be wary when interacting with the other nobles, as many may be looking to take advantage of an inexperienced lord like yourself. Not to mention, your high standing would inevitably cause many greedy eyes to be directed your way.

He stands by your side as you sift through all the letters you receive — invitations, proposals, friendly greetings and the like. The depth of his knowledge on the intricate workings of high society is surprisingly vast. He’ll readily inform you of which houses are corrupt, which families are feuding with each other, and which individuals it would be in your best interest to avoid.

“If I may add, attending Count Blackwood’s soiree would be a fair choice,” he suggests calmly. “The Blackwoods are known to be a neutral family, and have maintained friendly relations with the L/N duchy for decades.”

“Ah, I see... Thank you, you’re always such a big help.”

Chuckling, a pleased smile stretches across his face. Your heart, for a brief moment, flutters. His reply is smooth and warm. “There is no need for thanks. I live solely to serve you, Your Grace.”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who isolates you from the outside world. Not by driving everyone away from you like he did with the servants, but by causing you to lose trust in everybody else but him.

What happens is this: After attending a few social events and interacting with the other nobles, you end up making one particularly good friend. Instead of warning you away from them, knowing full well that they were not to be trusted, he instead chooses to say nothing. As he predicted, that friend ends up betraying you, leaving you terribly wounded, especially since they were the first person you considered a true friend in a long while.

Thankfully, your lovely butler will always be there to pick up the pieces, be it a broken heart or shattered soul.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who holds you as you cry, one hand positioned on the small of your back, the other hand gently stroking your hair. You have your face buried in the crook of his neck, dampening the fabric of his uniform with your tears.

You can feel the warmth of his hands through the silk of his gloves, the steady, grounding thrum of his heart. He says nothing, but his silence means everything.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who controls more and more of your life as time goes on. From the food you eat to the clothes you wear, everything is planned by him, down to the very last detail.

When you are bedridden from your illness, he'll feed you by hand, sitting by the side of your bed as he spoons you each bite. At first, you had protested, telling him he has other, more important things to be doing, but you eventually gave in to his unwavering persistence.

You can never win against him, against his honey-coated words and tender gaze, against those six damned words, ‘I live to serve Your Grace.’

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who is a patient, patient man. It matters not to him how long it will take before he has you completely in his hands, because he knows, with absolute certainty, that everything will unfold according to his plans. He draws you in slowly, making sure that you don't suspect a thing, and life around you changes so gradually that you don’t realise anything amiss until you’re dependent on him for everything.

But by then, you will be too entranced by him to care.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who is doing this purely out of love, as misguided as it may be. He just wants to care for you, treasure you, and protect you from harm. He truly believes that he is the only person capable of doing so, and will do whatever it takes to achieve his goals.

After a few more minutes, you settle on something that looks nice and clean. Put together, but not too much. Hopefully not too much. Agh. You smooth your shirt again to have something to do with your hands. You got your wish, regrettably, and now you have to follow through, even worse. 

This sucks. All of this sucks. Your feelings, Lohen, the situation, Barbatos for making the situation happen. Lohen again. 

He’s allegedly supposed to be here soon. He said he would be by around 6. Something giddy rolls over low in your stomach. The excitement you feel is almost painful. It’s a sort of itch inside and underneath your skin, prickling down your veins as it claws through you. 

It irritates your lungs the most. It has made it hard to breathe. You can’t quite get a deep inhale of air, like your lungs are too shallow. 

You mess with your clothes one last time before leaving your bedroom. If you didn’t put some space between you and the mirror, you think you would stand and fuss over your clothes up until Lohen knocks on your door.

It would be worse on your ego for him to see you fretting over him. You don’t want to deal with a more infuriating version of the man, he’s too much as it is.

You shut the door behind you and steel yourself to wait in the kitchen until Lohen arrives. The area smells strongly of flowers, sweet as they rot in the vase you have them in. They should have been tossed days ago, but you can’t bring yourself to do anything with them.

Ah…will he want to come in? He’ll see them. That alone might be worse.

You aren’t given much time to deliberate on the flowers, three sharp knocks resounding out in the empty air. Your stomach flips again. 

You take a deep breath before crossing to the entryway and unlatch the door. He’s right on time. You open the door to meet him. 

Your breath catches at the sight that greets you. A bright shock of petals greet you, at least a dozen large flowers secured with a white ribbon. You can’t even see Lohen’s head. 

On cue, the flowers tilt to the side and Lohen’s cheeky smile fills your vision. “Hey hey, these are for you.” You realize belatedly that he’s trying to hold them out for you to take. 

Your fingers brush his as you take the bundle into your hands. The scent is overwhelming. It’s less sickening than what has been permeating your kitchen. The thorns on the stems have been carefully cut off, there’s not one sharp prick that stings your palm. 

You swallow. It looks like he’s coming in. 

“Thank you,” you say, stepping to the side so he can unfortunately come in. Maybe you can keep him out of the kitchen and convince him to wait in the living room. 

Lohen slips inside with a cheerful hum, gaze flickering over every surface and decoration lining the space. Not for the first time in his presence, you feel as though he is picking you apart and filing the information away. 

He smiles when his attention shifts to you, eyes dropping to drink every inch of you in. The back of your neck heats up. “You look nice,” he comments. “Knew you’d be cute outside of that uniform.” 

You keep the flush of your cheeks at bay through pure will alone. His outfit only now registers in your mind. He’s not wearing his typical uniform and cape, instead dressed in something that almost suits your own clothes. Nice, but not too much. His choker is visible around his throat, more pronounced than usual without the extra layers of fabric surrounding it. 

Huh. You feel a little dizzy looking at him. Pretty is the regrettable word that comes to mind. His stupid smile and casual stance has your head spinning. Worst of all, you know he can tell what you’re thinking. 

Lohen laughs to himself. “Cat got your tongue? Go on, shouldn’t you put those somewhere?” He gestures loosely to the flowers still clutched in your hands. 

Embarrassment eats its way up your sternum. Right. You’re just standing there with the flowers. Your heart plummets when he turns his back on you and starts to move toward the kitchen. 

“Don’t go poking around, I didn’t say you could explore,” the words miss their intended sharpness by a wide margin. Lohen glances over his shoulder at you. 

“Why, hiding something?”

Well. 

“Oh, you are,” his smile widens. “Cute.” 

And then he’s disappearing deeper into your apartment, leaving you to hurry after him. Butterflies beat against your ribcage, harder now. 

He’s already spotted the vase by the time you come in after him. Lohen is leaning on the counter, a curious smile on his face as he stares at the flower. 

“And you were trying so hard to convince me you threw it out,” he turns around to face you. “I thought it would be gone by now. It looks a bit pathetic, don’t you think?”

You aren’t sure if he’s referencing you or the flower. 

Lohen breezes past his statement with a shrug. “Good thing you have fresh flowers to replace it! Really, if you wanted to keep this you should have dried it out. I’m touched though, truly.” 

He plucks the vase from the counter and unceremoniously dumps the whole thing in the trash. You will pretend in the future that you didn’t squawk with indignance. 

Lohen glances at you as he does it. You think he’s enjoying the utter disbelief that crosses over your face. You need to slap him again. That was yours, whether it was old and kind of gross or not. 

Before you can offer up your protests, Lohen is already extending his hand expectantly. He raises a brow at your expression. His smile hasn’t wavered. He’s enjoying this.

“What? Come on, don’t you want to keep these in a vase too?”

Begrudgingly, you hand the bouquet over. He hums to himself as he takes them back and leans over the sink to fill the vase with fresh water. He’s extraordinarily pleased with himself as he sets the flowers into the vase and takes a moment to fluff the petals back up. 

You cross your arms and look anywhere but him. Your skin feels hot. Anxiety and unshakeable want rages in your chest. You’re worried he can hear your heart beating. 

Lohen turns back around with a satisfied smile. “All ready to go?”

“Are you ready to tell me where you’re taking me?”

“Aha, not yet. You’re very bad with letting surprises stay surprises,” he chides. His tone does something to you, making you warmer. The image of him of a few days ago kissing your knuckles flashes through your mind again.

You keep thinking about it, and it’s humiliating. Combined with his lazy smiles and unshakeable reliability, you can’t get him off your mind. At all. 

And he’s here in your apartment. Picking you up for a date while your heart pounds. Yes, you think distantly, you should have kicked him out of the store more often and saved your heart the trouble. 

“I like surprises just fine. I don’t like you,” you say. You know it’s weak, but you can’t come up with much else. 

“You like my flowers just fine,” Lohen counters. “Now come on, we’ll be late.” He gestures to the door and begins to walk that way.

“You made a reservation?” You ask as you follow after him. 

“No fishing for hints,” he opens the door for you. You frown at him. Lohen smiles. He tilts his head toward the open door. “After you.”

“How chivalrous,” you say flatly. You don’t let yourself smile. 

“Mhm, I’m a model knight,” Lohen says and steps out behind you. He waits while you lock the door and tuck the key back on your person where it belongs. 

‘Model knight’ he says. While it may be true, he’s still terribly unsettling and nothing but trouble. You want to slam your head into a wall for agreeing to this. 

The evening air is cool against your skin. It gently tousles your hair and slips through your sleeves. Mondstadt is starting to quiet down from the afternoon rush. The sky is beginning to darken, clouds streaked with golden hues. 

Lohen takes the lead, offering you his arm with a wordless and far too amused smile. After a few moments of deliberation and disdain, you slip your arm through his. 

The way his smile sharpens makes you want to pull away immediately. His grip tightens subtly so you can’t. He’s warm, surprisingly so for a cryo user. 

You underestimated how much he talked. Lohen keeps up a steady stream of conversation in spite of your snippy responses. You would almost say he just likes the sound of his own voice. 

Unfortunately you also really like the sound of his voice. The air has a chill to it, but you feel warm listening to him. You wish you could say the warmth was heat from irritation bubbling under your skin. 

As he chatters, Lohen leads you through the city and past every single restaurant. It stops being something curious and morphs into something uneasy and annoyed when he tries to pull you out of the city gates.

“I’m not dressed to go traipsing through the mountains,” you tug on your arm in his grip. “What are you playing?

He only laughs at you, footsteps not faltering. “Relax, I’m not taking you far. You’ll like it.” 

“I don’t like anything you say,” you try and stand your ground to no avail. Lohen keeps walking and seems content to drag you if need be. 

“Lying is unbecoming for someone as pretty as you,” he gives you another tug. “Quit whining, won’t you?”

“I don’t whine.”

“No? Then what do you call this?” Lohen casts you another amused side eye. “A friendly chat? A song?”

He is very adept at killing your kinder feelings toward him. You stare at him flatly. “I hate you.” 

Hopefully he can feel your irritation. If he does, he doesn’t show it. He laughs like you’ve told him something delightful, maybe the best news all week, and pats your hand where he keeps you on his arm. 

“Then why don’t you do something about it?” 

You’re tempted to take him up on his offer, but you also know he’s goading you. He’s goading you because he’s some sort of sick freak that seems to keep trying to get you to rough him up more than you already do. 

You won’t give him the satisfaction. You look ahead in prim silence, biting the inside of your cheek. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him smiling anyway. Nothing gets through to him. 

He goes back to talking about nothing while you fantasize about shoving him to the ground and yelling at him for making you feel like this as you walk the dirt path out of the city.

“Ah, don’t walk past it, I worked hard,” his voice brings you back as he pulls you to a halt. You blink. You hadn’t noticed that you had come up on anything at all. 

Sitting stretched out over the soft grass is a blanket and a basket. The sky continues to slowly darken. Lohen looks at you expectantly. You should say something. 

The words get stuck in your throat. Against your better judgement, you smile. Something satisfied creeps over Lohen’s own smile. 

“Good, you like it,” he nudges you forward. “I hoped you would. Figured I should take you somewhere quiet, you mentioned you don’t like crowds right after work.”

His shoulder against yours is what gets your bearing brought back. You shake him off and ignore how considerate it actually was of him to remember that. 

“A picnic?” you ask the obvious.

“Mhm,” Lohen hums behind you, giving you another nudge. This time you actually move forward. “You can yell at me all you want here, don’t want to get you kicked out of a restaurant, do we?” 

You glare at him over your shoulder. Lohen gives you an innocent smile. Yeah, he’s definitely goading you again. You’re still embarrassed about how you slapped him in the square a few days ago. You don’t feel bad for him in the slightest, there were just so many people watching. Ugh.

“It’s a nice view,” you shift the conversation away from your sudden urge to grab him by his hair again. A quiet dinner with the sunset… you hadn’t realized how closely he had listened to you talk about your preferences. A fresh wave of fuzzy heat snakes itself into your stomach. 

You think, looking at him while he continues to hum and set up the picnic, you really like him. It hits you with devastating clarity. This isn’t merely passing infatuation, you like him a lot. So much so that the disdain you feel for him is muted. 

It dawns on you then that you’re away from the city and it’s getting dark with simultaneously the best person to be with and the worst. 

Lohen pays no mind to you, spreading out on the blanket and gesturing for you to do the same. It’s probably fine, right…? Why would he go through all this trouble only to pull something crazy. You fear that also sounds like him. 

Whatever. You’re here, so you should try to have fun. Even if it’s Lohen. 

You sit down across from him and take the offered plate. An array of food rests between you on the blanket, from fruits to sandwiches. Again, it’s almost everything you like. It’s suspicious that he knows exactly what you like when you’ve only ever mentioned half of this, but you allow it to drop for now.  

You didn’t think he had it in him to be this considerate. This whole date is seemingly tailored to you. Lohen lets the silence linger for a minute before he starts talking again. 

“Sooo,” he draws the vowels, “how was work today?”

It’s so mundane that you have to pause. “…Fine,” you allow after the quiet goes a beat too long. “Marjorie has some new imports from Springvale, baskets and that sort of thing.”

“Oh? Something new that I should come visit and see?”

“I should have you banned,” you say plainly. “You’re bad for business.”

“Now that’s just not true, Marjorie loves me.”

She does, for whatever reason. You don’t understand it at all, but you suppose that to almost every civilian, Lohen doesn’t present himself as trouble. He’s virtually one of the poster children of the knights, dependable and strong. 

“You’ve put a spell on her,” you say. “Marjorie doesn’t know what sort of barbarity she talks to.” Lohen laughs then, bright and cheerful. He leans forward slightly. 

“No one else is so harsh with me. You’re refreshing.” 

His lips curve up as he watches you. His words bounce around in your chest, matching the beat of your heart. You glance down at your plate. “A shame, people should criticize you more. You’re annoying.”

Annoying isn’t even half of it. The harsher words you would like to share with him are stuck in your throat. 

“This is what I’m talking about,” he shifts back into his own personal space with a happy sigh. 

You don’t want to dwell on how any of this makes you feel. You especially don’t want to dwell on the way your eyes betray you and watch the way he leans back, memorizing the arch of his spine. 

“How was your work today?” you want to move this away from you. Lohen makes a vague noise. 

“Same old same old, running around during menial tasks. Pretty boring stuff if you ask me, but Mondstadt has far fewer things to hunt.”

Right. He’s mentioned it in passing a few times. The Wild Hunt in Nod-Krai was always movement. Before he left for the expedition he was always moving around clearing monsters and treasure hoarders out. With the end of the higher stakes of Nod-Krai ended, it’s no surprise someone like him has begun to go stir crazy.

“Why are they keeping you in the city?” you find yourself asking.

“Paperwork,” Lohen says. “I’m starting to understand the Grandmaster and his reluctance to do his share of reports.”

“Is it really that much?”

“Why, interested in joining the knights?” Lohen teases. 

“Not in the slightest,” you shoot him down immediately. “That’s more time I would have to spend with the likes of you.”

Lohen hums and swirls his glass in feigned disinterest. “Well, this likes of me put something in your drink. Rather silly of you to take anything from me given your own view of me, no?”

The light mood shatters instantly, ice filling your veins. His idle stare gives nothing away. You become keenly aware of how far from the city walls he’s taken you. 

“What?” the words slip out before you can keep them from betraying your growing dread. He doesn’t say anything for too long, watching you with an eerily blank expression. You feel sick. 

And then he laughs cheerfully, like he’s done something clever. “Kidding, I’m kidding!  A joke, I promise. The look on your face was just too cute to pass on,” Lohen raises a hand in surrender. “I’m only reminding you to be vigilant.”

Vigilant of what, him? 

You don’t know if you believe his softening words. You do know that you should throw your drink at him. It’s always some unnerving trick with Lohen. You glance down at the surface of your drink skeptically, trying to dampen the anxiety that wriggles around with the butterflies in your chest. 

Lohen catches your hesitance. He takes your glass from your hand and brings it to his mouth, taking a deliberate sip before handing it back. “See? You’re fine.” 

He pushes it back into your palm. The glass is cold. He drank from where you had been.

“What is wrong with you?” you frown at him. “That’s not funny.”

Lohen doesn’t look bothered by your unease. In fact, he seems interested in it. “I let you worry for what, less than a minute? On my honor as a knight, I didn’t do anything, I just wanted to see you panic.”

That’s worse, you think. In character for him, but worse. There is a reason you hate him. He sits across from you like he’s innocent, as if he didn’t intentionally scare you for no reason at all. 

You consider throwing your drink at him again. Ultimately, you decide he would probably like that because there is something wrong with him, so you set the glass down.

“You’re awful.”

“The worst,” Lohen agrees. “Turn around, you’ll miss the sunset.”

You aren’t keen on turning your back to him, but you listen. The sight that greets you almost melts away your irritation with the man. 

Warm oranges and reds paint the sky and cast a fuzzy glow over the landscape. Shadows stretch lazily over the rolling hills, the wind calm and slow. Purple darkens the horizon. It’s almost out of a painting. 

You look back at Lohen to find him smiling at you. It’s not even one of his usual nasty ones either. You know it’s more genuine than his others because he smoothes it out as soon as you turn. Your stomach does another awkward flip. The panic begins to subside little by little until you can breathe again.

The setting sun covers him in gold. The light catches on his hair, his skin, his earring, and the buckle on his choker. It’s like he’s been dipped in honey. He looks friendlier this way too. Your chest feels warm. You want to kiss him.

The thought blossoms slowly, each petal unfurling to present it to you. It’s all sort of gooey inside. The equivalent of a record scratch cuts off all coherent lines of thought. How terrible. 

Sitting here under the sun, you can’t even try to deny that you don’t like him. It’s painful. He’s gorgeous. For once, he keeps his mouth shut as you stare at him. 

Heat eats its way up your throat, settling over your tongue. You should say something before it gets awkward. Lohen doesn’t appear inclined to interrupt you. 

Eventually, Lohen raises his glass again. “I think I might like that expression on you a bit more than your panic.”

He has to ruin everything. 

You become aware of the slightly slanted down turn of your brow and the gentle warmth that sits on your skin.

“It looks like you want to eat me too,” he smiles into his drink. “You’re making me excited.”

You don’t have anything at all to say to that. You turn your head back to watch the sunset, trying to still your thoughts as the orange slips further down the horizon and disappears. 

You are so screwed. 

When you turn back to look at him, he’s already looking at you. His lips quirk once you meet his gaze, breaking his quiet expression. Your heart twists again. You might be okay with this. 

The rest of dinner is nice, another word that seems out of place on anything regarding Lohen. The two of you chat some more and watch the sun finish its descent and swap places with the moon. 

He doesn’t pull anything else on you for the remainder of the night. His focused attention makes you feel a bit dizzy. You can’t shake the feeling that he’s trying to dissect you with his eyes alone. And not in the sexy way either. 

You’re loath to admit it to yourself, but this is a lot of fun. He keeps pulling the conversation from himself and back onto you. 

When dinner starts to wrap up, you’re reluctant to go. Lohen stands easily and brushes off his pants before offering you a hand. “I’ll walk you back, who knows what could happen in the dark,” he teases. 

You can’t argue with him on it, you’re far enough from the city walls that there may very well be monsters or the like lurking in the shadows. The way he smiles at you says that he knows it. Terrible. He’s terrible. 

You take his hand and let him hoist you to your feet. With his hand in yours, you debate shaking him to vent your frustrations. He always gets you into a dilemma: be mean to him and watch him enjoy it, or do nothing and watch his smug expression while he knows what you want to do. 

He squeezes your hand before letting go of you. Your fingers curl as they fall back to your side. Shadows obscure part of his face. 

You need to look away. The warmth in your chest threatens to consume you. You look back at the blanket he’s left in the grass. 

“You’re going to leave it?” 

“Oh, this?” Lohen glances back too. “It’s fine. A couple of my subordinates need a bit of extra menial work, they’ll clean everything up.”

“That’s a blatant abuse of authority,” you find yourself smiling. 

Lohen shrugs. “It’s good for them, slackers need things to do.” He tilts his head in the direction of the city. “All ready to go?”

“I suppose,” you take a moment to look up at the moon. The silver light licks over your hands and pools between your fingers. You force your next words out and past your lips: “this was fun.”

You hear Lohen exhale a laugh next to you. You don’t want to look at him. “Yeah? I’m glad.” The words are simple, but they make your head spin. Maybe it’s the tone. 

He nudges you again. When you look at him again, his smile has morphed back into the infuriating teasing thing he likes to don around you. “Come on, a knight can’t leave you stranded in the dark.”

“I can take care of myself,” you argue more on reflex than anything else. “The city isn’t so far.”

“Don’t be stubborn, what if there’s treasure hoarders that can’t resist your pretty face?”

“This close to the walls there will at most be hilichurls,” you counter and pretend him calling you pretty doesn’t do something terrible to you. 

“Wishful thinking on my part then,” he shrugs. “I’m itching for it.”

“It?” you echo. Logen doesn’t answer you properly. He just winks and gestures toward the city again. 

“After you.” 

His faux chivalry pisses you off. It also makes you want him more. 

The walk back is quiet. Crickets chirp from the bushes. Lohen is quieter than he was on the walk out, leaving you to sort through the knot in your stomach. 

It is not long before the city comes into view, exuding a glow from the lanterns on the gate, making it enticing in the dark you walk in. 

“Vice captain,” the two knights acting as guards scramble to straighten up from their slumped positions. 

“Slacking off, are we?” Lohen slows for a moment to give them both a smile. “I didn’t know you were volunteering for training.”

The way his voice dips with the words promises nothing but misery. Lohen keeps you moving, guiding you through the gates and into the city. You glance at the guards you’ve left behind. They look pale. 

Lohen catches your gaze and smiles. You’re tempted to ask what he’s going to do with them, but think better of it. 

It’s only a few minutes more before the two of you are approaching your apartment. You’re reluctant to part ways, and that only irritates you. 

He’s given you two reasons on this date alone to dislike him, he pretended to drug you and then he threatened some subordinates. Your heart isn’t keeping up with the memo, however. 

Lohen walks you right up to your door.  Ah…are you supposed to invite him in? Do you want to? The better question might be should you?

You would like to consider yourself a smart person. Even smart people have their stupid moments. You debate with yourself for a second, glancing at his choker and then to the curious but amused slant of his eyes. 

Whatever. You can hate yourself later. 

With that final thought, you reach out without any further hesitation to hook your fingers under his choker and yank him closer to you. His hand flies up to stop you before he recognizes what you’re doing. He laughs and redirects his hand to your cheek. The leather of his glove is soft on your skin. 

And then your lips crash into each other. It’s clumsy with heat. You can feel him smiling against your mouth. His hand slides down to rest on the side of your neck. You’re afraid that if you open your eyes, you’ll find his already open. 

You pull him closer, fingers twisting his choker so he can’t move away from you. His smile widens. You can hardly breathe. The feeling of his mouth and hands on you is almost too much. Warmth trails its way up your spine and around your lungs. 

Every nerve is on fire. Lohen matches your movements eagerly, grip tightening against the side of your neck. It’s not enough to constrict your airflow let alone hurt, but it’s pressure. His hand slides to the nape of your neck. 

You part your lips when he licks the seam of your mouth. You expect tongue. Instead, it feels like you’re being devoured. Teeth find your lips, open mouthed as he bites you. 

You make a sharp noise, startled at the sudden pain. You shake him by his choker and bite him back, catching his lower lip between your own teeth, but it hardly deters him. 

The sharp nips send shivers down your spine. He pulls you impossibly closer to him. Your free hand fists his shirt collar. He laughs lowly against your lips and finally breaks away from you. His hand doesn’t leave your neck.

You’re out of breath, chasing his lips for a fraction of a second before you stop to look at him. His cheeks are dusted pink, lips kiss bruised and probably actually bruised from your teeth, and his eyes are locked solely on you. 

Usually his attention makes you a little uneasy, his eyes are always so dull, but right now you don’t want him looking anywhere else. He’s panting too. 

A delighted smile blooms over his face. You must look like a mess. His fingers flex against your nape. “So much for saying you hate me,” Lohen teases, “I knew you were a biter.” His voice is rough, giddy and breathless. “Are we going inside?”

Your heart pounds against your sternum. You’re already reaching for your keys. He’s a bad idea and you know it, but you can’t quite help yourself. You let go of him, fingers sliding out of his choker. Your skin stings from how tightly you had it twisted. 

Lohen loosens his grip on you, letting you step away from him. “Yeah,” you nod and shove your key into the lock. You push the door open and step in, holding it open for him.

You pause in the doorway to cast a backwards glance at him. He’s still standing there, watching you. Distantly, you’re sure he really is going to eat you alive. That’s fine, you can bite too. 

“You coming?” you ask with a raised brow. You can feel the flush on your chest and ears, the warm pinks meeting in the middle on your face. 

Lohen’s smile turns wolfish. “Sure am,” he says. The heat in your stomach flares again. 

If looks could kill, he’d be nothing more than an oozing heap of meat on the floor. You apply more pressure to the dagger, the delicate skin of his neck stretching, blood welling just below the surface. If nothing else, he’ll have a nice bruise tomorrow to remember you by. “Don’t play coy. How did you get into my bedroom?” 

Breezy laughter peals in the air and echoes in your ears; his Adam’s apple bobs against your sweat-slick palm. “That’s a steep accusation, dove. Don’t work yourself up so much—this is an innocent misunderstanding.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you spit. “There’s nothing ‘innocent’ about you breaking into my home in the middle of the night and watching me sleep like a gods-damned psychopath.”

His face contorts in mock-hurt. “Psychopath? You wound me.”

“I’ll do worse than wound you if you keep being a smart-ass. Now tell me how you got in here and I’ll—”

Cutting you off mid-sentence, Tartaglia surges forward and grabs your wrists, forcing your weapon to fall to the floor in a clatter. Taking advantage of your shock, he flips you around and shoves you against the wall, slamming your captive hands above your head. A lithe leg slips between your thighs to further pin you in place. You can’t even take a breath before his lips clash with yours.

The kiss isn’t an embrace so much as it is a spar, a violent scuffle of frustration and fervor. It’s impossible to tell where one mouth begins and the other ends; you blur into one another, saliva and ichor mixed and mingled, pushed back and forth between teeth and tongue. You bite down on his bottom lip, savoring the vibration of his groan, then lap up his blood. Ugly and raw, you duel out of pride…

(You linger, however, for the warmth that blooms low in your belly, aided by the insistent grind of his thigh.)

When the two of you part, it’s at the same time: an impasse. Your lips are swollen and bruised—an embarrassing badge that you’ll deal with later, after the thrill subsides—a red thread of spider-silk still tying you together.

“How was that?” you murmur.

Instead of answering your question, your lover leans down to lick up the mess of fluids that smear your chin. “Mmmm.”

You roll your eyes with a huff as he releases your wrists. “I can’t believe this is what you wanted for your birthday, Ajax. You’re a sick freak.”

Cupping your face, he examines you closely. You squeeze your eyes shut and scrunch your nose.

“Well, you agreed to this, so: pot meet kettle,” he coos. “Archons that was so sexy…You’re lucky I have excellent self-control—I nearly ended it about half a dozen times to fuck you.”

“I had no idea,” you deadpan, brushing against the tent in his pants.

“Well, are you going to help me take care of it?”

Pretending to think for a moment, you hum. “Hm…Convince me.”

“Oh?” His touch wanders downward; he wears a smirk that spells trouble. “Gladly.”

A voice from behind is the only thing that stops you from thwacking him over the head.

“Come now, leaving so soon?” Jing Yuan hums, his voice a waking rumble in his chest as he shifts in the space behind you. “Surely it’s far too early for even you to start the day.”

“Let go off me, it’s too hot.” You huff, emphasising your words with another attempt to get out of his hold. “You’re not making it any better.”

Jing Yuan gives your waist a squeeze.

“Is that so?”

“Be serious, am I the only one sweating? You’re like a human furnace.”

The mattress appears to shift for a moment, and you’re sure if you had your eyes on the general right now he’d have shrugged. “A small price to pay.” His voice follows, proving you right with his smug response. “I find I sleep much better that way.”

“Well, I must tell you you’re alone in that regard.”

You try to shove an elbow back in rebellion, but when it’s met with a hard wall of Jing Yuan’s muscles and a slow, sleepy chuckle from the man behind you; you assume he couldn’t have felt it as anymore than a tickle.

“You wound me.” He breathes against your skin, making you shudder as he tucks you in closer. “Your feeble attempt to escape is noted but ultimately denied.”

“You’re torturing me here.”

“Torturing you, hm?” Jing Yuan murmurs, stroking his thumb beneath the damp fabric of your shirt. “Is that truly how one would refer to their current position?”

You lose your focus on how warm you are when Jing Yuan’s words are followed by his strong biceps pulling you closer to his bare chest, the movement allowing you to feel the way his cock is already hard and aching against your lower back.

His lips press just short of your ear now, tresses of white hair falling along your face as he presses you into the pillows.

“I have a few other terms in mind that you may find much more fitting.” His breath against your skin makes you shudder. “And you’re not exactly making it easy for me, are you? With all of your movements. I would consider you quite calculated, my dear.”

It’s almost involuntary the way you grind your hips back to meet him.

You find yourself wiggling yourself towards him, clutching at his forearm and despite the way you’re sweating against his form— his skin is warm and grounding. His fingers finally slide beneath the fabric of your shirt, and he digs his hands into the supple skin of your hips to keep you in place when he grinds up against you again.

“I’m sweaty though.” You murmur, pressing yourself back hard against Jing Yuan.

He’s busy pressing kisses down the length of your neck, the warmth of his hands only leaving your skin in favour of shoving down his boxers. “Is that supposed to deter me?”

“I of all people know nothing deters you, Jing Yuan.” You throw a half-lidded look over your shoulder. “Though I must admit you have a way of convincing people.”

His chuckle is a slow release, accompanied by his aching cock springing free behind you and smearing beads of precum along the skin of your thighs when you grind back to meet it.

“I have years of negotiations beneath my belt, my dear.” Jing Yuan reminds before his hands return to your skin, and in one smooth motion he lifts up your thighs enough to pull your damp panties to the side. “Though I would consider this one to be amongst the utmost important.”

Jing Yuan’s lips are back against your ear before the press of his aching cock slides its way through your glistening folds. It’s followed by a slow, languid roll of his hips as the heavy shaft drags along the glistening slick of your pussy, soaking him to the base as the blunt head catches on the hood of your clit and it’s gentle enough to make you twitch.

Your head drops back against Jing Yuan’s chest, and you spread your thighs wider when he pulls you back again. His cock presses against your tight hole now and your voice appears to catch in your throat. “I don’t think Fu Xuan will be happy to hear you take this more seriously than your duties.”

That makes him chuckle again, but he doesn’t respond immediately— too busy placing a few open-mouthed kisses along the dip of your shoulder before he’s suddenly sinking up into you.

“Perhaps it’s best we don’t tell her this one, hm?”

It’s all so lazy but deliberate, the way Jing Yuan groans against your throat while one of his hands move to rub soothing, slow circles into your clit as your pussy clenches around him. Accompanied by the stuffy heat in your bedroom, and how deep he already feels, you feel dizzy and full— arching back against him as you attempt to take even more into your flexing walls.

Until you feel him glide past the soft spot that makes your whole body twitch, and you manage a weak, dreamy whine when he eventually bottoms out. His heavy balls press tight against your ass, and when your pussy flexes again— you suddenly find it easier to ignore the wet press of your back against the general’s chest.

You feel Jing Yuan’s jaw clench when you relax against his body once more, feeling his large, warm palm return to its place beneath your shirt as he takes a slow handful of your breast. A thin layer of sweat meets him there, but instead of cringing away— it appears to allow the soft, lazy back and forth swipe of his thumb over your nipple to feel that much more gentle.

“Shall I consider this negotiation a success then, my dear?” Jing Yuan asks after a moment, his voice sounding much more dazed from where he now rests.

And if you didn’t find yourself equal parts full and comfy all of a sudden, you would surely find that previous fire to thwack him would come back.

But instead you wiggle your hips a bit more, enough to make Jing Yuan’s cock throb from where he’s pressing up against your walls and when it’s enough to make him take a sharp breath. You consider that a victory in itself.

“Atleast offer me a fan to cool down next time.” You tease before settling down again, eyes fluttering with sleep.

“Oh, I am sure that would be no trouble at all.” He responds in kind, his voice rougher with drowsiness but still as sly. “You need only ask.”

If your eyes weren’t closed, you would roll them.

“Go to sleep, Jing Yuan.”

You bit your lip so hard, it stings. “Awh, my baby’s lips are bleeding… i’ll help you wipe it off.”

His hands wrap tightly around your wrists, pinning them on top of your head. Lohen’s lips ghost against yours—he pauses before licking your bleeding lips, tasting and savoring them. You flinch, not because it hurts, but because the feeling of his tongue feels good

“That was meant to be a kiss, but oh well.” He kisses weirdly. Lohen chuckles, catching you off guard. “You taste great. Can I have more?”

This was a scenario that you’d experience every time you entered work. And it might be weird—to have an inappropriate yet complex relationship with your Vice Captain, knowing that if the Grandmaster catches you both, it’ll ruin your career. But Lohen adores you too much, willing to pick you over his work. It gets to a point where everyone in your squad is aware that he favours you over everyone. Many think it’s just a crush, a blooming love that’ll end with him confessing his love for you.

They’re unaware that Lohen’s “crush” on you isn’t a puppy crush meant to be treated as a joke. The crush he has on you is so intoxicating and overwhelming. But he doesn’t try to fix it. He lets his desire for you consume him whole because he believes that’s what love is like.

He watches over you every training like a hawk. Anyone daring to walk over to you, iniviting you to spar, or asking for your help, gets interrupted by his mocking comments. You can’t even walk on your own, without him following behind, asking: “Where do you think you’re going?”

And when Lohen helps you train, he’s behind you, pressing his chest against your back. A mischievous glint in his eyes, hands interlocking with yours—he excuses it as, “I’m just guiding you. Your… posture needs fixing. And your aim should be like this, okay?” His other hand finds its way to your hips, caressing them as he whispers instructions to you.

YOU HAVE REACHED THE MAXIMUM LEVEL OF FRIENDSHIP.

𝐄𝐕𝐄 🪽 —— ‎first part of an eater's collection. columbina's ver next <3 then venti's!