How The Genshin Men Rizz You Up

how the genshin men rizz you up

premise: although you two have been dating for some time now, they never keep trying to charm you. what are ways your boyfriend keeps you on your toes?

WILL get into your favorite books/shows and try to copy your favorite characters

sometimes while you’re just chilling, he’ll walk into the room reading one of your books or having your favorite show playing on his phone. and because your tastes aren’t always shared, you’ll raise an eyebrow in question. “i thought you didn’t like it.” 

he doesn’t say anything, just merely shrugs at you and simply goes on with his day. and after that point, whenever you try to playfully glance over his shoulder, he flinches away. you’re confused, but don’t really say anything else. you trust him. if he didn’t want you to know, you’d respect that. 

you’d never expect two weeks later to be greeted with the sight of him with a fake rose in his mouth dressed as your favorite character you’d been gushing to him about for the past two months. you’re 100% sure he ordered his costume right off of amazon, with the way it barely fits him.

“why hello there,” he greets, still with the flower in-between his teeth. outstretched in his hand is a bag of your favorite candies. there’s something about his wig that makes this situation seem unreal. even if your favorite character shared the same hair color as him, he still puts on the wig, as if to really sell it to you.

you don’t even bother trying to stifle your laugh. if your carrying anything, you drop it immediately to bend down, cradling your stomach. “oh my god,” you say in-between chortles, wiping away a stray tear, “you are so cute.” 

he pouts. “is it not good?”

you can barely contain your smile. “it’s perfect.”

“but you’re laughing. you’re not supposed to do that. you’re supposed to get flustered and play along while i sweep you off your feet.” 

you tenderly take the candies out of his hands and put it on the table, placing his terribly-placed wig down along with it. running your hands through his hair, you kiss him softly. he’s quick to reciprocate, quietly moaning and cupping your jaw. he matches your pace, if not a little more eager. 

“don’t you worry, you do that already.” 

alhaitham, zhongli, gorou, tighnari, scaramouche, xiao, thoma, ayato, baizhu

bluntly expresses his feelings towards you

almost painfully so. 

“you look sexy in that hoodie.” 

“i know,” you reply monotonously. “i also know that we’re in a grocery store right now and there are children here.” 

he’s not always straightforward about his thoughts, but on days he’s feeling especially affectionate, the words slip right through. 

“listen, i just think the way you wear them is really cute. not anyone can pull it off, you know? but you do it so effortlessly. it makes your butt look super squeezable,” he comments, grinning when you give him a glare. “your face in general is just very hot. it’s just my type. i didn’t even know i had a type. i think i have a crush on you, honestly.” he leans his head on your shoulder, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “you always know how to make me feel like a nervous teenager all over again.” 

“that’s very sweet,” you say with a chaste kiss on his cheek, “but i don’t know if saying this in the middle of the self-checkout is appropriate.”

he huffs, scanning the fruits and vegetables. “it’s fine if the children hear that, though, right? it’ll teach them to be more expressive.”

“i guess that’s true,” you humor him, “still, i’d appreciate it if we could enjoy this moment where it’s quieter.”

he contemplates before nodding. “okay, if that’s what you want.” he fixes his posture. “anything for you.”

you smile. “thank you.” 

when you get home, he continues to shower you in compliments. as he takes the large haul of groceries out of the car, he rambles. like a puppy, he trails after you as you unlock the door to your shared house, letting him inside to put all of your groceries on the dining table. 

“i just don’t think i appreciate you enough,” he mutters. “whenever you get me coffee in the mornings, i never thank you, but you spoil me as if i did anyway. i know sometimes i get mad at you for disagreeing with me but later on i end up regretting it.” 

he takes out the eggs carefully as if they were his own children and puts them in the fridge. “you’re always looking at the pros and cons for me, even when i don’t want to hear them. i love you so, so, so, so much. i appreciate you and respect you. even when you sometimes don’t want to cuddle.” he laughs, taking the strawberries out of your hands to put them away.

“i love our relationship dynamic, did you know that? because i know that. we’re always making sure we don’t go crazy. like that one time you helped me calm down when i was having a bad day. i love how you and i always tackle our problems together, whether they’re shared out not. you never make me feel like a bad person, just in progress. and i love how you trust me enough to open up to me, i know it hasn’t been easy but i appreciate that you’re always trying. you make loving you seem like the only right answer.”

by the time he’s done talking, you’ve put everything away. he ends his talk with tranquil silence, gathering the empty grocery bags and setting them aside for later use.

this time, you’re actually flustered. “where did all that come from?”

he doesn’t always get like this. sometimes he’s a little quieter, sometimes he gives you a small “love you” and it’s all you need to know. 

he shrugs. “i don’t know. i just felt like you needed to know and i had to tell you right away.” 

he gives you a little kiss like it’s nothing and goes to turn on the tv, leaving you speechless. in your previous relationships, romantic or platonic, no one had really taken the time to acknowledge your efforts so directly. you’d spend hours if not days worrying if your affections were equally reciprocated (or at least appreciated). being so openly appreciated was a new feeling that left you feeling open and vulnerable, which you were beginning to learn wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling at all. 

thoma, childe, itto, gorou, heizou, kaeya, kaveh, venti 

writes love letters to you

he writes them everywhere. on post-it notes, on pieces of scratch paper, on the margins of your work notepad (although you’ve had to hide them at some point because they were starting to get outside of the margins and you still needed them to write in). 

in these little notes, he’ll write all sorts of different things. whether it’d be how much he loves you, about a particular moment you shared that he felt was precious (he’d write it in specific detail, as if it were an excerpt from a novel), or any miscellaneous thoughts he believed was important to convey (”you looked really cute in that dress that other day. i love how you looked so happy in it.”).

he writes things as he thinks them. sometimes you two will be watching a movie together and he’ll have an ‘aha’ moment, get up, and grab a piece of paper to write in.  

and then he’ll leave them everywhere. 

everywhere. you once found a note just as you were putting your clothes in the washer. (”oh, i must’ve left it there.”)

one day, you end up asking him why he writes them, even though sometimes they’re not even intended to be read by you.

“i heard that you remember things better when you write them down,” he started. “sometimes i’d get little thoughts of you and i thought it’d be a waste to forget them.”

you open your mouth to say something but he continues. 

“on anniversaries and stuff like that, i always end up forgetting what i want to say. i’ll get so nervous or in the moment my mind will go blank. i don’t like that. so i thought that if i wrote them down, it’d help me remember exactly how to put my feelings into words.” he turns to look at you and beams. “and if they also help remind you how much i love you, then i’d say it’s an added bonus.” 

alhaitham, diluc, cyno, kazuha, albedo, baizhu, zhongli, xiao

makings kissing a game

whoever gives the most kisses wins. of course, neither of you are keeping track, but that doesn’t stop him from planting a big kiss on your mouth in the middle of the movie and saying, “fifteen points!” 

and naturally, not one to lose, you take up the challenge. you plant two kisses. that is where it escalates to the point where you two are trying to kiss each other without being kissed. it ends up with a lot of strange head movement that results in a fit of giggles. 

he kisses you on the cheek when he hands you your coffee like it’s a habit. in early mornings, when the two of you are still waking up, he’ll whisper a soft “five points” with a raspy voice. when you lunge to get him back for it, he’ll dodge, rubbing his eyes and pointing a little finger at you. “haha missed me.” 

on days you have work, if you don’t give him his goodbye kiss he’ll catch you on the way out. he’ll follow you groggily, silently. mid-way with putting your shoes on he’ll plant his lips on yours. his hand comes up to cup your face, gently caressing the apple of your cheek. you’re expecting him to murmur some amount of points at that point. but instead, he smiles into the kiss and hums. “i love you,” he whispers, “have a good day.” 

you end up leaving with a racing heart. although you’re used to his antics, he never fails to remind you how swoonworthy a simple kiss goodbye can be. 

venti, childe, ayato, heizou, tighnari, kazuha, cyno, kaveh, thoma, kaeya

yandere! telepathic classmate headcannons

yandere! telepathic! classmate x telepathic! reader

premise: whenever someone falls into a pit of obsession with you, they open their mind and heart, therefore somehow giving you the ability to read your thoughts. having endured this for a long time, you’ve managed to avoid meeting disastrous ends with these admirers. that is, until you meet your new classmate (who claims it’s the first time you’ve met) who is somehow always able to see through your tricks. 

warnings: stalking, manipulation, unhealthy relationships

- thinking about yandere classmate! who, despite your claims, says it’s his first time meeting you. 

- yandere classmate! who has somehow stolen the hearts of your teachers and classmates alike with that dashing smile of his and amicable personality.

- yandere classmate! who you’ve sworn up and down that you’ve seen before. he looks so familiar, you can’t put a finger on it. 

- yandere classmate! who ignores all of your attempts to brush him off and always seems to be where you are. 

- yandere classmate! who greets you twice: once when he’s introducing himself to the class, and once in your head, in your thoughts. 

- hello, pretty thing. 

- yandere classmate! who’s thoughts are so...structured. who’s thoughts sound so scripted and unnatural yet you can’t call him out for it. as if he’s deliberately hiding from you. as if he knows. 

- yandere classmate! who you know has some sort of obsession with you but you just can’t read him. 

- yandere classmate! who somehow knows how to make you say yes to him, no matter how much you don’t want to.

- oh? you don’t want to help him bring the lab equipment back to the science classroom? well, you can’t, not when he’s asked you in front of everyone (including a very pushy, very expecting homeroom teacher). 

- you don’t want to study with him? well, you’re going to have to if you don’t want to fail calculus. he’s the top student in the grade, and everyone else seems busy. 

- you’re hiding in the corner during lunch to avoid seeing him? all of a sudden, he wants to eat in this specific spot in the corner of the school where no one goes to as well, conveniently right after you decided you wanted to eat there. 

- you want to go to your favorite bakery to relieve stress and forget about him? he’s sitting in that exact spot, your spot, the one you always go to to people-watch. and he’s sitting there with your usual order and an inviting smile. it unnerves you so much. 

- you don’t want to date him? you already are. he’s already told everyone through subtle social cues. by the end of the week, everyone thinks your dating, but doesn’t really let you know they know, convinced you like your privacy. 

- it isn’t until your friends ask you, offended that you kept something so important from them, that you realize what’s going on. 

- yandere classmate! who doesn’t accept your rejection, who just puts his hand on your shoulder and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. 

- yandere classmate! who interrupts every conversation you have with another guy. who wraps a possessive arm around your waist and presses a pretty little chaste kiss on your neck. 

- who thinks your mine, mine, mine, mine, whenever he sees you with someone else. 

- yandere classmate! who is somehow your partner in every group project, yet you somehow can’t get a read on how he accomplished such thing. 

- yandere classmate! who always knows what you have on your wishlist for every holiday and brings them to you wrapped in your favorite color. 

- yandere classmate! who one day slips up when he’s laughing with your friends that he’s somehow charmed without you knowing. 

- those same friends, who congratulated you on a happy relationship, happy you’ve managed to open up to other people. who you can’t bear to disappoint after years of being so-closed off and being a downer. 

- yandere classmate! who thinks you think reading my thoughts will change things? when will you give in and accept it? 

- yandere classmate! who pretends nothing is wrong when you freeze, baffled. instead, he kisses you on the cheek and your friends coo. 

- yandere classmate! after months of constantly making you say yes to his ‘requests’ finally lets you in on his secret. 

- yandere classmate! who now openly engages in telepathic conversations with you when employing his tricks. who smirks whenever you try to push him away. who enjoys the chase. 

- your thoughts are so pretty. won’t you decorate them with more thoughts of me?

genshin sugar daddies: leaving hickeys on you

premise: you have seven sugar daddies: one for each day of the week. it’s a bit overwhelming, but you try you’re best to keep each relationship relatively independent from the other. that means no hickeys. except, well, each one of them wants to make you theirs exclusively and they’re not above marking you secretly to send a message to tomorrow’s person. (yandere! possessive! genshin reverse harem x reader) (modern au!) 

*if you want more yandere genshin sugar daddy content the introduction is here but this can be a standalone read! 

tags: nsfw, dark content, afab reader, fingering, dirty-talk, unprotected sex, dub-con, smut smut smut smut smut

diluc is no stranger to jealousy. you can sense it in the way his eyes constantly beckon for yours. the way he grips tightly onto your waist. he never asks anything more than your gaze on monday evenings. they have to be on him. always. not for a second more are you allowed to look at anything else but him. he’s greedy, always pulling you to look at him once more. naturally, his gaze is always on you. 

you feel it drag up and down your back. crawl into the little dip in your neckline to see what’s underneath your clothes. 

so the one time, the one time, kaeya’s crafty attempts to leave hickeys on your folds and inner thighs in the midst of eating you out, diluc catches it. 

he sees it the moment he peels off your panties. what should’ve been a slow sequence of him sinking his tongue into your pussy is immediately halted at the sight of a very small but noticeable bruise in the juncture between your thighs and your labia minora. 

kaeya’s warning. 

the change in his demeanor is undeniable. his heavy gaze flits over to your face. intentful. unaware of the hickey, you’re understandably confused. 

if diluc’s seen something, he doesn’t tell you. instead, he internalizes the sight. it’s a warning and a challenge. 

mine. 

he’s quick to grab onto your wrists and pin them above your head. before you can brace yourself, he’s slipped a finger inside you. you gasp at the sudden intrusion, but welcome him as he curls his finger towards him, gently brushing against that spongy spot that leaves you breathless. 

he chuckles lightly as you roll your eyes back. his thumb presses on your clit, nudging it side to side. “you’re soaking wet,” he mutters, sliding another two fingers inside you. “all for me?” 

your hold on the sheets tightens. 

he leans closer to your ear. “i can’t wait to smear the remnants of your orgasm on my cock. make it slick enough to slip inside you. make you feel good. we want my darling to feel really good, right?”

you hiss when he starts thrusting his fingers into you at rapid speed. desperate. eager to make you spill your affection onto his hands. 

“that wasn’t a rhetorical question, sweetheart.”

you can’t help the moan that leaves you as you approach your climax. “y-yes! yes—ah—diluc!” 

his grin looks so unlike him. his thumb starts to draw circles on your clit, going quicker and quicker the more you squirm and moan. 

“cum on me. do it for me, princess. cum all over my hand. give me all your everything.”

you can barely understand the undertone in his words. instead, you reach your high. your orgasm pours out of you, onto his beckoning fingers. and instead of letting you go, he continues mercilessly until your left whining for him to stop. 

and he does. eventually. he slowly pulls his digits out of your crying cunt. he collects the droplets that trickle out of your lower lips and let’s it drip onto his twitching dick. he runs his hands along his shaft, letting out a shaky groan. 

“look how pretty you’ve made me. this is all you, darling.” 

he fucks you like it’s he’ll die if he doesn’t. blinded by the mixture of pain and pleasure, you close your eyes and submit to the feeling of overwhelming bliss. 

you’re so overwhelmed, that you don’t register how he’s kissing your neck like a man on a mission. 

დ

the two of you are in the middle of a normal tuesday brunch when childe sees it. when you turn to accept the menu from the waiter, he can see the slightest marks that you couldn’t hide, even with the most expensive foundation. 

you curse internally when you see his eyes narrow in on you. you should’ve known better than to ever believe that diluc would ever follow one of your only rules: no hickeys. 

and now childe, notoriously competitive, will feel compelled to have his fill. 

you should’ve worn a scarf. 

you thought that the position of the hickey, and the slight fadedness your foundation was barely able to provide would’ve been enough. you were wrong. 

like a built-in reflex, you smile. “what’s the matter? is there something wrong?”

he gives you a smile, an all-knowing smile as he takes the menu from you. “nothing is wrong at all, girlie. i’m just admiring that new necklace i bought you.”

you’re good at pretending nothing’s wrong, so you fiddle the crystals with your hand. “i love the way it shimmers,” you add, “i love how sparkly you’ve made me.” 

if you’ve done anything to settle his displeasure, he doesn’t show it. instead, he averts his eyes to the menu. you know better than to believe that nothing bad will come out tonight. 

for the rest of the night, he engages in small talk with you. about the weather. a new store that’s just opened up. some story about some poor guy who borrowed more money than he could ever give back. the thought makes you tighten your grip on your fork.

when you get back to his penthouse, he’s quick to strip you of your luxurious gown and all of it’s accompanied gold accents. when you reach to take off the necklace that decorates your neck, he stops you. 

“keep it on,” he whispers, his hand crawling up your thigh to grip your ass. “wanna fuck you looking so pretty in my jewelry. wanna make you shine with sweat as pretty as those gems.” 

“oh really?” you retort, sliding your hand between the two of your bodies and cupping his sex. he groans as you run your fingertips down his groin. “wanna make me shine with your cum?” 

“yes,” he gasps. in the heat of the moment, his eyes catches the faint outline of diluc’s mark just below your jaw. overtaken by some primal instinct, he presses your waist against him. “you’re letting all those side-fucks give you hickeys?” 

his words almost make you want to freeze. but you’re quick to resume back to normal, to pretend that those words don’t phase you. that you don’t hear the implications in the undertones of his voice. 

it’s worse if you tell him it was unintentional. 

“it’s a new development.” you tug at his hair as he digs his face into the crook of your neck. “you get only one.”

you need to have the upper hand. in a sea of seven men who are constantly demanding things from you, you have to take what you’re dealt with and do something before they overtake you.

he grins.  “you’re such a tease. which motherfucker left this on you?” 

you know better than to tell him. everyone knows that there’s seven who you’re regularly seeing. but they don’t know the names—not the order. you know better than to give names. these men are as powerful as they are rich, you wouldn’t do anything that’d upset the city’s dynamics. 

so you avoid the question, like you’ve always done. 

“i can think of better ways you can use that mouth, other than asking silly questions.” 

his brow twitches, but he doesn’t do anything else to push you. instead, he smiles into your neck. “only one?”

“only one,” you confirm.

he doesn’t hesitate to take off your necklace. his hands dive to the back of your neck to unclip it and toss it to the side. you let out a yelp in surprise when it clangs onto the coffee table. 

“i’ll buy you a better one,” he says in-between open-mouthed kisses on your jawline. “fuck, i’ll buy you a thousand more.”

he sinks down to your collarbone. “’been dreaming of this. my girl, my pretty, pretty girl, wearing reminders of me.” 

♡

the two of you are in the comfort of kazuha’s home. wednesdays are reserved for writing, and like always, you’re pinned under his watchful gaze while he writes his thoughts away in his notebook. 

with every few scrawls, he peeks over the paper to steal glances at you. you hum, pretending to be blissfully aware. you’re just here as his muse. 

as of this moment, you snuggle into your comfortable place in the back of his study, leaning against the window that expands to his backyard that oversees the sunrise and sunset. your own notebook rests on your thighs, your knees pressed close enough to your chest to allow you to write smoothly. kazuha sits across from you, his feet sometimes brushing against yours. if you laid your legs out straight, no doubt that the balls of your feet would meet his waist. 

he keeps stealing glances at you. has been for the past hour. no matter how much you try to focus on your own poems, you can’t brush away the feeling of being watched. 

his eyes are impeccable, and can spot the marks that occasionally peak underneath your scarf when you move a certain away. 

“you let them mark you?” he asks out of the blue. not accusatorily, per se, but you can detect the edge in his voice. 

the corners of your lips perk unnaturally. the moment you’d been dreading since you woke up had arrived. you let your eyes soften, as if it could soothe kazuha by any means. with a gentle hand, you reach out to softly grasp his hand that tightens around the edge of his notebook. it’s something he accepts readily, enveloping your hand with his. 

“i was meaning to talk to you about this, kazu,” you say tenderly. “it’s just something i’m trying out. everyone gets one. see if everyone’s okay with it.” 

kazuha doesn’t say anything. his gaze is fixated on your intertwined hands. “my love, they mark your skin like animals.”

you smile like it’s no trouble. because that’s what you need him to believe. you feel like kazuha’s a loose thread. tug him in the wrong direction, the wrong idea, and he’ll undo the entire sweater. 

“it’s only going to be seven,” you reply, trying to lessen the tension. 

“it’s better if there’s just one,” he retorts gingerly. “they aren’t gentle at all, are they?”

you don’t like the way his eyes sweep over your entire figure. you hold back a shudder, feeling as if a ghost had just passed through you. 

“they are,” you mumble, although you can hardly say it’s true. “don’t you worry kazu, i can handle myself.” 

your line of sight flits back to your intertwined hands; he lets go, instead running the pads of his fingers down the back of your hands before settling on your wrist. his hold is firm. it’s not tight enough to cause you pain, but not gentle enough to let you pull away. 

“i’m sure you do, love,” he mutters. but the way he says it makes it seem as if he doesn’t believe you.

his eyes connect with yours intently.

the rustle of your clothes shuffling echoes through the quiet study as he pulls your wrist towards his mouth. in doing so, you’re forced to lean forward. his eyes never leave you, not when he presses a soft kiss to the inside of your wrist.

“they just want you for your body,” he says, more to himself than you. “they don’t love you at all. everything would be so much better if you just dropped them. let me take care of it. take care of it all.” 

you don’t say anything back. he doesn’t want you to. and even if you did, it wouldn’t be something he’d want to hear. you have bills to pay. you have enemies a wealthy poet wouldn’t be able to defend you from on his own. 

his tongue slides out of his mouth to lick a long strip up your wrist, all while looking at you. he presses open-mouthed kisses in the same spot, sucking and nibbling with purpose. in-between kisses, his tongue draws letters on the expanse of your skin in a sentence you’ve begun to fear.

A L L M I N E  

დ

when spring comes, tighnari will sometimes give you hickeys. he’ll do it in the heat of the moment in a passionate rut. he can’t think of anything else but you. how perfect you are for him. how beautiful. how you belong to him. 

while he drives his cock into you the only way he knows how, his lips will find their place in the crook of your neck. on the curve of your breasts. on the plush of your thighs. he’ll kiss you like you’re his air. 

he’ll whimper into your skin. in that moment, you’re powerless to stop him. his pace is godspeed, pummeling into you like you’re his lifeline. driven to leave his white reminders of his love and devotion into your aching pussy. you can barely hold yourself up steadily. your fingers tremble. overcome with an insurmountable high, you can’t push him away as he leaves hickeys all over your body. 

it’s not to send a message to everyone, per se, but to express the feelings he’d been keeping pent up during autumn, winter, and summer. the overwhelming infatuation and adoration he feels for you. 

his pension for leaving nonstop hickeys on you starts to settle on the fourth day. and by the end of the week-long rut, they’ve faded just enough that you can cover it up with foundation and expensive jewelry. 

but when he’s not blinded by his sexual desperation during the spring, it’s a different story. 

it’s a perfectly fine thursday mid-afternoon in the comfort of tighnari’s study when he sees it. 

he catches a glimpse of kazuha’s kiss on your wrist when you pass a cup of tea to him. your sleeves ride up just a bit under the beaming sun. you notice too, and are quick to pull back. but it’s too late. the moment he’s set down the cup he’s grabbing onto your wrist and pulling back the sleeve. “what’s this?” 

you’re tempted to let out a breath of relief that he didn’t notice the hickey that barely rested on the edge of your collar. when you donned on the turtleneck sweater, you feared that he’d notice it if it slipped down and grow even more livid. 

just play it off. pretend. if you’re lucky, by the end of this week, you’ll end up with only six hickeys. 

“oh, i must’ve bumped into something.” 

tighnari scowls. “this doesn’t seem like an ordinary bruise. how’d you get it?” 

you’re scrambling for a believable response. “i was leaning back onto the counter and didn’t realize the corner was there.”

he chuckles. “clumsy you.” his forefinger inches up the slightest bit to press on it. 

you wince. subsequently, your entire body tenses. this isn’t like those times where you can lie sweetly to him whenever he asks for you to stay for good. this isn’t like one of those times you can charm your way out of a situation. the way he looks at you is knowing. feral.

“i wasn’t born yesterday, love,” he hisses. “i know a hickey when i see one, especially when i leave them on you every spring.”

the way he kisses you after is rougher than usual. desperate. needy. aggressive. he presses into you, his tail wagging tentatively. he brings your arms to wrap around his neck. his tongue caresses your own, exploring your mouth like it’s a new discovery. a new treasure trove. 

he whimpers into the kiss, his little squeaks and moans muffled by his need to devour you. 

you close your eyes and let yourself get swept up with the pacing. to get distracted by him. you hardly register the time pass before the two of you are naked, your clothes strewn across the floor in his bedroom. 

your back is pressed against his chest, your ass hugging his dick while he slides his hand down the valley between your breasts, stopping to pinch your nipple until it hardens. his other hand is left to its own devices, settling on your waist. 

his fingers find themselves in the comfort of your pussy. he whimpers at how amazing you feel around his fingertips. how every time he pulls in and out, there’s squelching noises that almost overtake his little whines and yelps. every time he pushes his fingers back in, your ass presses a little closer to his dick. 

he moans like you’re the one pleasuring him. like he’s on the cusp of euphoria, only silencing himself to press open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder. 

“it’s m-my turn,” he says in-between whines. “m-my pretty l-little pet.” 

დ

when alhaitham gets home after a long week of working, all he wants to do is relax in warmth of your embrace. friday is his reward. 

he eats dinner as always, asking you questions in-between bites while delivering long stares that still make you feel like you’re being researched. but this week, instead of insisting you two spend quality time together reading on the couch, he coaxes you into the bedroom. 

he groans into the kiss, pressing you to the wall as he helps you out of your clothes. but when he opens his eyes to admire your body, he doesn’t like what he sees.

he lets out an unamused chuckle. his hand brushes over your shoulder. “what’s this?” 

you try to speak, but he cuts you off with another kiss. when you gasp in surprise, his tongue dives into your mouth. 

he leaves you breathless; his pace is rough, almost angry. 

“what a bad girl you are,” he seethes, “letting all those bastards touch you like that? bruise your pretty, pretty skin?”

he doesn’t let you talk. he envelops your opportunity to reply with his relentless kisses. he presses harder into your mouth, your teeth almost gnashing together. it’s almost painful, as if he wished to bind you two together. 

“every friday is my solace, my holiday, didn’t you know?” 

you gasp for air. “i-” 

“i’m not done yet.” he brings his lips to yours for another hungry kiss. “every week i work so hard so i can see you, cherish you, and this is how you repay me? i thought you were my good girl.” 

he chuckles darkly. “but you’re just a bad apple, aren’t you? i’ll have to fix that.”

he continues to kiss you. to ravish you with his mouth. he swallows your moans, his hands eagerly exploring your body like it’s his first time. and like always, his hands find their place on your chest. 

“i’ve always loved your breasts: the way they curve, the way they sway so sweetly every time you arch your back for me, how your nipples perk up with every caress of mine.” he flicks one and you yelp. 

“those imbeciles really have no intelligence at all.” he licks a long stripe in-between the valley of your breasts. “your body is a canvas.” 

his eyes connect with yours, beckoning your gaze. a silent connection, a guarantee that you’re looking at him. at what he’s doing. at what he’s making you feel.

he stares at you attentively, and once again you feel like you’re being studied. every gasp that comes from your lips. every twitch of your brows. every time your eyelids flutter is under his watchful gaze like it’s the only thing his sight is for. like he’s a scientist researching the cure to his very own hunger. 

his lips find purchase just on the edge of your areola, sucking intently. “to mark you is a form of art.” 

he relishes in the way you shudder. but he needs more. 

with one hand on your waist, his other comes up to fondle your other breast, craving for more reaction.

“only idiots wouldn’t be able to realize it.” 

დ

unlike all of the other saturdays, where you’re probably swept up in the grand scheme of things (attending formal events, meeting politicians, or shopping like ayato’s wallet depended on it), you’re lounging in ayato’s home office on a calm evening. 

the two of you decided to end things a bit earlier today and relax a bit. and by that, you suggested to spend some quality time alone so that you didn’t need to walk anymore. although you prided yourself on stamina and tolerance to soreness, even you couldn’t keep up after just about a week of aggressive men fucking their jealousy into you. 

“it was hot today,” ayato mutters lazily as he gently runs his fingers through your hair. your head rests on the plush of his thigh, just as he likes it. “are you sure that you’re comfortable in that turtleneck, love?”

you curl into yourself a little bit more, tugging the collar up. “yes, i’m perfectly fine.”

you’re not fine. you’ve been sweating up a storm underneath your sweater but you were adamant on ending this week with six hickeys instead of seven. your stubbornness refused you the pleasure of ice-cold showers to wash away how your clothes burned you. 

he pouts. “are you sure? you look awfully uncomfortable, dear. you can take a shower in my bathroom, if you’d like.” he smiles. “i won’t look, promise.”

you turn to look at him, contemplating. on one hand, you don’t believe anything good will come out of undressing in ayato’s house. you don’t believe his promise, either. if you knew him any better, he’d walk into the shower on the grounds of saving water, where he’d see all the hickeys imbued into your skin. while diluc, childe, and kazuha’s marks were getting a little faded, you doubt you could somehow explain alhaitham and tighnari’s hickeys. 

but on the other hand, you’d been in this sweater for a whole day already. and your skin was started to get irritated. you felt gross with all of the sweat you’d accumulated. maybe five minutes wouldn’t hurt. 

you smile like there’s nothing to worry about. like you’re an adoring lover. like you’re whoever ayato wants you to be. you reach out to cup his cheek, to which he warmly receives. 

“okay. i’ll be back soon.”

he chuckles as you get up from his lap to head to the shower. you had to be quick. 

you all but run to the bathroom once you’re out of sight. you head to ayato’s bedroom where some of your clothes are. dresses, lingerie, t-shirts, jeans, shorts, and all other items of clothing he’s ever bought you hang neatly in his closet. you pluck whatever seems practical and make a break for the shower.

you slip off the diamond ring he’d given you months ago. you all but slam it onto the counter, relieved your ring finger can breathe for once. 

the quicker you take, the more likely you can shower without incident. 

but the moment you’ve stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped secure around your torso, to your horror, the door opens. 

“hey, love, i was wondering—”

just before you can close the door shut on him, his eyes connect to the discoloring on your shoulder. 

regardless of his discovery, you move to usher him out. but mid-way, your feet are halted in the middle of the bathroom floor. the words are crawling in your mouth. you want to tell him that you’d like to shower in peace, tell it to him teasingly, but you don’t think you can. 

that’s not what he wants. that’s not what pays the bills. 

you offer a tight-lipped smile. “like what you see?”

he paces towards you, caressing your shoulder. he leans closer to you, examining the color, the shape, the size. “hm, so that’s how they want to play this game,” he whispers, ignoring your question entirely.

his hands gently tug at your towel. he smiles. “won’t you open up for me, love?”

he guides your hands as you drop the towel, revealing alhaitham’s mark. 

“hm.” he looks at you as if he’s silently critiquing an art piece. “i see what’s going on here.” 

he takes the ring that you left behind on the counter and works to slide it slowly onto your finger again. “you almost forgot to wear the symbol of our love, dear.” 

“oh, it must’ve slipped my mind.” it’s like there’s cotton in your mouth. your throat feels dry.

he chuckles at that. “poor thing. my poor lover can be so forgetful.” 

 his eyes drift down to your chest.

he presses a kiss above your breasts, where your heart is.

“she almost forgets that she’s mine.” 

დ

even if he’s your designated sunday, if you aren’t careful enough, kaeya will create a week full of trouble for you. 

when he eats you out, he becomes pussy-drunk. he kisses your lower lips like it’s his prize. his reward for working so hard this week. his tongue runs up your pussy to your clit in a slow, deliberate stroke. 

when he reaches your clit, he lets his mouth mold over your nub. he licks at it gently, cherishing it like it’s his only rose on a lonely valentine’s day. 

he makes love to you like he’s reached his happily ever after. his lewd slurping overshadows the shuffling of the sheets, your moans. when he dips his tongue into your cunt, he whimpers. 

his fingers dig into your thighs, holding you in place. even when you’re overstimulated, begging for a break, he won’t let you go. he savors the way you tremble so cutely under his touch. how your cum leaks out of you in small streams after your fifth release. he’s immersed in your cunt, yearns to make out with your lower lips while his nose nudges at your clit.

it’s too much. the feeling of your climax is so overwhelming. 

he wants you to feel this euphoria, to remind you of how he feels every time he looks at you. 

he wants you so much. so fucking much it hurts him when he can’t see you. when he can’t hold you. when he can’t be with you like a real lover. he needs you like he needs air. he needs to feel you wrapped around him to give him life. to give him purpose. 

that’s why when you’re so swept up in the feeling of a constant climax, when your legs feel numb, he gets so carried away. 

if you don’t catch him in time, kaeya will leave secretive hickeys along your inner thigh, dangerously close to your folds. he needs the others to know he’s staking his claim.

to know he’s making you feel so good that there’s definitive proof. 

at the end of the week, when you see him again after seven days of trying to calm down the jealous storm among your seven sugar daddies, he’ll grin. 

it’s that same devious smirk he gives you at candlelight dinners, except it isn’t one to mask his vulnerabilities with charisma and one-liners. it’s one to tell you that he knows exactly what he’s done. 

he knows what he wants, and he’s finally had enough of the fucking waiting. 

love is in the details.

after years of being married and living together, you two have settled into a little routine. what’s the little moments that make your life special?

genshin characters x reader 

brushing each other’s hair in the morning

early in the morning, regardless of whether either of you have to go out or not, you help brush each other’s hair. if you’re in a rush, he’s groggily following you into the kitchen, hairbrush in hand. you’ll be sitting there eating breakfast while he’s standing behind you trying to manage your bedhead.

his touch is gentle, loving as he files through your strands. if you have a specific hair routine in the morning, he’ll do that for you. rubbing your favorite hair oil in his hands, he’ll gingerly comb it through your hair, massaging your scalp in the process.

and you’ll brush through his hair and try to micromanage the little tufts that stick out. when you’re finished, he’ll turn around to give you the softest kiss on the forehead and say “thank you, love.”

when you two know neither of you are going out for the rest of the day, you’ll pull out your collection of flowery clips you saw the other day at the market and tie his hair up in multiple silly little ponytails decorated with butterflies.

even if he doesn’t like it, he’ll never tell you. not when you look so happy, content with making a mini ponytail that made him look akin to a unicorn. instead, he’ll sit still and look pretty, watching through the mirror’s reflection as you clip his hair back with a giggle. his eyes will soften, like you’re the most precious thing. 

kaeya, kazuha, diluc, zhongli, baizhu, albedo, alhaitham, xiao

 brushing your teeth together

it doesn’t seem like a big thing, but you two make it a point to never brush your teeth without the other. not if you can help it, at least. when one of you gets out of bed before the other, whether it’s because you have something you need to do or you’re making breakfast, the other will quickly follow suit. 

when your eyes accidentally meet each other’s in the mirror, he’ll raise his hand to ruffle through your hair. and depending on his mood, he might put you into playful headlock, not letting go until you squeeze the fat at his waist. 

sometimes while you’re doing other things, he’ll come from to tug at your wrist, signaling that he needs to brush his teeth after eating something sweet. he won’t say anything, but the two of you have quickly reached a silent understanding. 

and if he’s feeling a little bit annoying that day, he’ll press a messy kiss on your cheek. you’ll groan as you clean the toothpaste off your face but he’ll just smile smirk cheekily at you as he tries to dodge your own kisses. 

in the midst of your scuffle, if toothpaste lands on your shirt you’ll point at it and laugh together. 

some days, when you’re sad, you find it hard to keep up with personal hygiene. there are days where it feels too hard to get out of bed and take care of yourself, but he’s always there to make self-care seem just a bit easier. 

childe, thoma, tighnari, scaramouche, kaveh, ayato, gorou, alhaitham

singing songs in the kitchen

when you two are cooking, the two of you will sing together. it’s not some loud thing. if one of you has a song stuck in your head, you’ll hum it in harmony as you fry the eggs. 

occasionally, you two will break out in full-on concerts. you’ll pretend that the spatula is your microphone as you preform a grammy-winning duet. as you wait for the pot the boil, you’ll dance as if you’re on stage in front of thousands. 

as time passes, you guys end up leaving a notepad and pen somewhere in the corner. while you’re cooking, baking, or simply getting a snack from the fridge, if you have some kind of song/lyric idea you’ll messily scribble it down and be on your merry way. 

and so, you two probably have a couple albums worth of silly songs. sometimes you write it together, sometimes you’ll pass by and check to see if he added something new. sometimes the songs are about the new cooking recipe you’re trying out, sometimes it’s a sweet love song. 

either way, the two of you are jamming it out in the kitchen. whether the two of you are cutting vegetables or stirring the pot, you two are in harmony. 

venti, kaeya, kaveh, kazuha, cyno, childe, itto, thoma

playing little pranks 

when you least expect it, he’ll switch your rings. just to see if you’d noticed. he’ll give you at least a couple of hours (at most a day, but that’s only if you’re really busy) to notice. if you do, he just smiles cheekily and switches them back. if you don’t, he’ll pout and ask for a kiss to make up for it. 

when you’re feeling overworked and burnt out, he’ll walk into the room with a glass of water and some fruit. he’ll give you a kiss for good luck, nuzzling his nose into the crown of your hair and walk out swiftly as if he was never there. 

if you don’t look up fast enough to catch him before he’s out the room, you’ll miss the fact that he’s wearing your bra outside of his shirt and walking as if he was on a runway. when you do, you’re quick to act on it. you sprint out of the room with the biggest grin. by then, he’s heard your footsteps and is already on the run. when you catch him, you pepper him with hundreds of tiny little kisses.

“that’s what you get for taking my bra,” you say in-between giggles. 

he wraps his arms around your neck, peppering you with equally as many kisses. 

“i don’t think this is a very good punishment. i’m not supposed to like it,” he muses cheekily. 

when the two of you’ve calmed down, he’ll give you a final kiss goodbye before you return to work, recharged.

his little shenanigans might be distracting sometimes, but it’s because of him that you’ve learned the importance of stepping back and letting yourself breathe. 

venti, childe, kaveh, kaeya, itto, ayato

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