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[coffee-with-genshin]

ways they say i love you without actually saying it [ pt. 1 ]

characters ⊱ childe, venti, thoma, kazuha

warnings ⊱ completely safe! enjoy!

rating ⊱ sfw

childe

whenever you’re upset or had a terrible day, he always tries to make you laugh

says he missed you even if you saw each other literally twenty minutes ago, and means it each time

gives bear hugs

you’re stressed about one of your responsibilities (i.e. chores, school, work), so he just takes your hands into his and says, “i’ll take care of it for you, go rest”

remembers every birthday, anniversary, and holiday, both in his family, and yours

does literally everything just to see you smile

always enthusiastically invites you over to join conversations with him and whoever he is with, and he makes you feel comfortable and safe even around total strangers

keeps a lingering hand on you whenever you’re in public together, anchoring you to him with a simple touch (a hand on your hip, between your shoulderblades, resting on the back of your neck)

tickle fights; ticklish kisses

playfully waking you up every morning by saying good morning, sleeping beauty, or something like, rise and shine, angel!

venti

kisses you the moment you’re both awake, and then giggles and teases you for having morning breath, even though he does, too

pillow fights

picks up eyelashes that fall on your cheeks and holds his fingertip out to you and tells you to make a wish

does the same thing with dandelions

the moment music begins playing, he grasps for your hands and tries to drag you down to the dancefloor, begging you to dance with him, even though he’s mostly terrible at it

enthusiastically greets you with good mornings/afternoons/evenings

always holds your hand when you’re walking together, he grips it tighter when in crowds or crossing the street and pulls you closer to him

“don’t worry, i won’t let you fall,” whenever you’ve climbed a tree or building or just generally are on a high place together, said as a firm promise as he tightly grasps onto your fingers

playfully pouts at you and says, please, please, please, pleaaaase? whenever he wants you to do something or go somewhere with him

always offers to share what he’s eating or drinking

sings to you as a form of comfort or a way to make you fall asleep

squeezes you in his arms and softly says, it’ll be alright, everytime you’re upset

thoma

says the worst, most cliche, and obnoxiously affectionate petnames just to make you squirm, all while trying to hold back his laugh

he rubs circles into your back whenever his hand is resting there

fixes your hair for you after the wind blows it into your face, or when you need it pulled back for whatever you’re doing, and he carries an extra hair tie for you if your hair is long enough for it

says, “call me when you get there,” with a kiss on your forehead whenever you leave

remembers what food you like so he can cook it for you; collects recipes, even going as far as calling your grandmother just to learn how exactly she makes that one dish you really like

takes care of your house chores before you get the chance to do them, so that way you can relax whenever you get home

greets you in the morning by wrapping you up in his arms and swaying slightly with you there

everytime you get a bruise or he puts a bandaid on one of your scratches, he presses a kiss on top of it to ‘make it better’

matching braided-leather bracelets to commemorate your bond, that he never takes off (he considers it a good luck charm)

kazuha

holds onto you like a very clingy octopus everytime you fall asleep together

soothes himself and you with physical touch: he brushes his hands through your hair often, or hides his face in the crook of your neck, or cocoons you into his chest

likes to ‘nest’ with you by piling up lots of blankets and pillows and then tangling up with you in the middle of it

always leans into you with a blush and a sheepish laugh when he’s embarrassed, like he’s trying to hide himself in your body

likes fidgeting with your hands, like twisting a ring you have on your finger, or rubbing his thumb against a charm on your bracelet, or following the seam of an old, tiny scar on your wrist

impulsively kisses exposed skin whenever he’s close to you, unable to really stop himself from giving you affection

follows you around whenever he’s free, just to talk with you and be in your company while you’re doing things

always asks for your opinion when he makes literally any decision, even if it something like, should i get the mint chocolate chip ice cream or the matcha tea ice cream?

kisses your knuckles and tells you in soft tones about poetry he has written about you

[coffee-with-genshin]

[coffee-with-genshin]

Having a Thoma brainrot again after that official art

[coffee-with-genshin]

Happy Birthday, Albedo!

Thank you for the cake, I'm honored.

Oh? You are asking if I draw the cake, will there be more desserts?

Well... if that's your wish, then I'll try.

If you can't finish eating it, take it and share it with everyone.

[coffee-with-genshin]

I love ur character designs I'd love to see ur take of the pyro archon in ur style!

hahsjdhsjd my character designs aren’t the best- i just put together things that look neat to me :’] but!! the process is fun nonetheless! here’s what i like to think she looks like :]

+ glowy hair :D

[coffee-with-genshin]

“prepare for trouble,” “— and make it double!”

[coffee-with-genshin]

Kiss in The Kitchen Like Its A Dance Floor

Warnings: Maybe light angst; very brief food mention; let me know if there might be anything else

Genre: Light angst; fluff

A/N: None, enjoy! :)

Kiss in the kitchen like its a dance floor- a soft childe x reader fic(mild angst in the beginning)

Childe woke up to an empty bed, it was quite a foreign feeling as it was often times the other way around. He would be up before the sunrise, leaving his beloved to wonder where he had gone and if he was going to be coming back within a reasonable time. Liyue wasn’t that dangerous of a city, but there was always dirty work that had been left to the harbingers. And that dirty work tended to last very late into the evening, occasionally pouring over into the next day. At that point, he was too tired to do anything other than to plop into bed for three hours and repeat the process again.

He felt a sliver of what his lover felt. The constantly cold bed, chilled by his absences. The ghostly whispers of the short conversations they had when their schedules overlapped by a mere twenty minutes. He felt pity for his lover, as this is what they must have dealt with on a daily basis.

He was hell bent on making it up to them, but he could muster up the courage to leave the bed. The blankets suffocating him with the warm memories of his favorite moments. He closed his eyes and began to recount them, promising himself that he'd get up once he had been through all five of the core memories that he associated with mornings like this.

It had taken him quite a while to get through them, savoring each memory as if it was his last meal. Speaking of meals, a crash from the kitchen area sent him bolting out of his bed to see if someone had intruded into his house. He had orders from the Fatui to eliminate anyone who dared to break into his house.

He crept from the bedroom, through the living room and towards the kitchen. Once he had reached the wall separating the kitchen and living room, he pulled out his daggers and prepared to attack. He was ready to see an intruder, someone who wanted to kill either him or his lover due to their connections to the Fatui, but all he saw was his lover cooking something in a pan on the stove.

“I see you decided to get out of bed. Not that I blame you but it’s nice to see you on your day off.”

“How long have you been here? Because I remember cuddling you for a while before I passed out again.”

“Oh. I’ve only been here for about 20 minutes. I was trying to read but I got hungry and wanted to make breakfast. I was planning to wake you up to drag you to come eat but you’re already here so, can you help me?”

“I suppose so. What are you making?”

“Pancakes! I haven’t had them in so long that I decided that if I didn’t have them soon, I might kill someone in order to get some.” “That’s quite aggressive of you.”

“Like you have any room to talk about being aggressive. You came into the kitchen with your daggers out like you were getting ready to murder me.”

“Fair.”

He sheathed his daggers and walked over to where his lover was mixing pancake batter.

“What do you need help with?”

“Nothing really.”

“Okay then.”

Childe pressed himself against their back, resting his arms around their midsection and his chin in the crook of their neck.

“You should take a break.”

“What do you mean?”

“Take a break and spend time with me.”

“Hmm?”

Childe spun them around so that their back was pressed up against the counter. He pressed his lips against theirs. A feeling that was so common yet so rare due to the mix of their working conditions.

“That’s what I meant.”

“If you wanted a kiss all you had to do was ask.”

“I want more than a kiss, I want to dance with you.”

“Oh. Well then, let’s dance.”

Childe took his lover’s hand and led them away from the counter for their safety. He wrapped his arms around their back and began to sway back and forth, rocking to an inaudible song that only the two of them knew about.

Every now and again he would press his lips to theirs and they would giggle into the kiss.

“I missed this. We should do it more often.”

“Indeed we should.”

“We need to finish the pancakes.”

“Screw the pancakes.”

The two of them stayed like that for quite a while, just basking in each other's love, something that meant more to Childe than his precious core memories.

[coffee-with-genshin]

i literally haven’t posted in like a month but! i tried digital art for the first time

[coffee-with-genshin]

My main party's dynamic! Part 4: Qiqi's POV (Platonic)

-

Qiqi-Zhongli: The team lives in Zhongli's realm/serenitea pot! Zhongli tends to remember every little things (beside mora). When Qiqi mentioned that she likes Finches, he decided their home needs a little more companion.

Qiqi-Xiao: Qiqi doesn't remember things that she doesn't do daily. Xiao makes sure he will remember those things for her.

Qiqi-Kaeya: Qiqi only remembers important things. One of them is making sure her family is home safe and sound.

[coffee-with-genshin]

"i don't want to hold back any more."

genshin boys × reader; reader's gender isn't specified + body isn't described. independent scenarios of albedo, childe, diluc, kaeya, kazuha, thoma, xiao, and zhongli confessing that their restraint is wearing thin— all to your benefit, of course. the following writing is suggestive. thank you for your support, and 3k followers!

✧ ⁠— albedo !

there's a brief moment, when albedo rests his hand on your shoulder with all the tentativeness of a crystalfly, that prompts you think that there is something amiss. after all, why would he look at you with eyes brimming with a disquiet so unsettled, or with the uncharacteristic pinch of his lips between his teeth? with how he's, for once, at a loss for words— he begins to open his mouth, on the verge of speaking, before settling for a drawn exhale.

"'bedo," your inquiry stems from concern. however, another sensation manifests in place of your apprehension: slow, rolling bemusement. if there were something wrong, then albedo would tell you immediately. he wouldn't pause, nor linger on specifics of the matter.

yet here he is. pausing, and lingering on the specifics of what's currently occupying his mind.

you continue anyways. whatever subject that can hold albedo up is more than worth addressing. "'bedo, what's wrong?"

he responds with a quiet hum, crystalline gaze still fixated on your visage. an unnamed, unspecified kaleidoscope swirls within his irises, and renders you breathless.

"i was just recalling how i once read about infatuation." the head alchemist begins slowly, as if testing the string of words on his tongue; a strange, seizing sensation festers in the pit of your gut, akin to the abrupt, dragging pull-back of a tide.

"it's . . . vivid, in person. more than i was expecting."

oh. you glance downwards, following the movements of his arm: with slight motions of his wrist, albedo raises his fingers to the crest of your cheek. brushing, tracing, committing to memory the form of it. the intensity that he devotes to your features prompts your face to burn, as if set alight by his touches. so much so that, in a moment of rapture, you think that you're about to melt.

a far-away, dim part of your mind resounds. where is this coming from?

you should say this aloud, you think. while albedo does have inclinations towards poetics, there is no fluidity for the sake of it this time. it clicks: with the small tilt of his head, to the barest of butterfly grazes on your skin.

albedo speaks as if in a trance. that makes two of you, then— captivated by a heady ambiance risen by your faith and his affection. "i never thought that i would get to experience it, much less this ardently."

his touch wavers at the corner of your mouth. the piercing, diamond gaze that's attributed to albedo and only albedo is once again on you. and so are his lips.

butterflies, indeed. careful, practiced contact that's befitting of an individual that treats the most delicate of matters. but albedo doesn't kiss you like you're fragile. there's a thank you in each plant of his lips, blooming off of the sustenance of you; you're more than willing to sate him, fingers finding purchase when locked over his shoulders, all to his vocal contentment.

his withdrawal is tentative, but his voice is anything but. the comfort that is so distinct to albedo's painstaking methodology still lingers, bliss swirling in the palm of his hands, as they meet your cheeks.

his mouth moves. in accented, pronounced shapes, there's a sudden sharp quirk of his lips that makes the balloon in your head somehow even lighter.

"i've also read about other things that people do when they're inflated. heard of other things, as well. would you mind if i betray my composure for just this once?"

✧ ⁠— childe !

his gaze is shameless, but you know that he doesn't care how he looks right now. not when the two of you are alone, with his palms on either side of your head, caging you between his chest and the shore. not when your shirt is soaked through, translucent against sun-kissed flesh, fabric affixed like honey along the curves of your figure. and most definitely not when he likes what he sees.

and childe, in all immodesty and candor, can't help himself to the feast of you.

his eyes are, for once, clouded as they rake across the dip of your throat, and down to the jut of your dew-stained collarbones. they ultimately pause over a titillating patch of cloth that sticks to your skin, and childe allows himself a ragged exhale. his cerulean irises regain clarity, become alive, when they flicker upwards to meet yours.

"can you blame me for this," he begins, his fingers suddenly hovering between your clavicles. the iron in his gaze holds, even when your breathing turns anxious, expectant, and the murmur of his name from your lips emits like a beck and call from the sweetest of nectars.

". . . when you're so careless?"

yes, you can. when he looks at you like this —on the precipice of self-restraint, all too ready to forfeit control to satiate the feral appetite churning in his gut— you think you can blame him. abyss, you would even go as far as to say that the scenario that the two of you are in (centimeters deep into the shallows, soaked from head to toe) is because of him. childe was the one who asked for your company in a morning stroll down yaoguang, with a smile full of teeth and mirth underscored with mischief. not the kind of mischief you'd knowingly subject yourself to— but one that, in retrospect, must have been simmered with an eager, cunning hand.

the lump wedged in your throat doesn't dissipate when you swallow. if anything, it roots itself, constricting your throat with tense, impatient vines; you're at the mercy of your obtuse, childe-ridden mind, a minute detail that seems to register behind his unfocused lingering.

"i don't," you start vainly, palms fisting themselves in the heavy fabric of his coat for purchase, "think you have the right to say th—"

"but i can." childe counters before you can even finish. the lilt in his voice is nothing short of mercurial.

your boyfriend affords himself a rough, heavy inhale, in time with the aching hitch in your heartbeat. his fingers finally flit across your chest, right over your lungs, before trailing back up to the base of your jaw.

childe cradles your face in his palm, the tips of his gloves skimming the patch of skin just behind your ear. the fervent contact makes you shiver, despite yourself. when your eyes refocus, all you see is blue.

"you have no idea how much you make me want to let go."

he lets his words hang in the air between the two of you, the arc of an imminent meteor. then he burns them in the atmosphere of your yearning.

neck, waist, legs. childe is without a collar, wholly feral over the reality of you within his palms. and if this inferno is reckless —from your name falling from his tongue as if it's a blessing from the tsaritsa herself, from his lips savoring, worshipping the shape of you, to his hands made for war finding peace over your heart— then you suppose that you're just as much of a glutton for peril as he is.

✧ ⁠— diluc !

when you step out of the washroom, there isn't much on your mind besides the comfort of your bed and the romantics of sleep. after all, it's nearly midnight; while you could stay up for longer, and you certainly have before, you don't think that it's worth pushing for tonight.

but, well, you guess that you should've known that a good night's rest wouldn't be easy to attain, especially since you share a bed with your boyfriend.

and— well, you see—

the pointed gaze that diluc gives you from his side of the bed is more obvious than the summer heat at midday. still under the heavy lull of rest, you're slow to follow the trail of his eyes. why is he fixated on you like a hunter to their quarry? after yawning, you peer down, and,

ah. that explains it.

"this?" you note blithely, probing at the hem of the shirt you're wearing. it's diluc's shirt, actually. one that you had fetched out of the nearest drawer from the shower once you were finished. and who can blame you? a near-midnight shower, after a long day? it's not as if this is the first time he's seen you in his clothes, anyways.

still bleary-eyed, you begin a tepid crawl onto the mattress, swatting away diluc's shameless ogling with a wave of your hand. your body lands on the covers, relieved, before you turn your head to assess the state of your (still gawking) lover.

"it was convenient. why are you staring?"

while the lighting in the bedroom is low, save for the timid peeking of the moon from behind open curtains, diluc's features are as sharp as ever. perhaps sharper, now that he's got his mind fixated on something. that something being . . . hm.

the pieces come together slowly. but there's a bit more encouragement for your brain to get jogging once diluc lets out a wry chuckle, bottom lip oddly chewed for such a composed individual. "i can't really say that i'm sorry. but you do have a way with timing."

timing. he speaks to you as if you've committed a crime— a crime that's, somehow, more amusing than offensive. your face falls, and, oh: he's raised himself off of the mattress, propped himself on an elbow, situates himself between you and the light of the moon. shadows, you think in this instant of drowsy haze, have always complimented him.

there's a dark, foreboding undercurrent to diluc's voice that tugs at your throat, and carries you along in a current of instantaneous alertness. an alarm, at every word, bringing you back to the surface and reality of what he's saying— what you've failed to realize.

"it almost makes me think that you did this on purpose."

intent. in actuality, a lack thereof. you are slow to blink, but quick to realize that while you may be inebriated off of the promise of rest, diluc is very much awake. awake, and allowing himself to leer over you in patient, controlled movements of his limbs, until strands of his ruby hair tickle your neck and his lips acquaint themselves, none too politely, with the heated shell of your ear.

"you didn't, did you?"

stubborn fog refuses to lift from your mind, yet you have half the conscious to object against his accusations. not that you don't mind them— (you let out a small noise of protest, to which you receive a raised brow in return) you really didn't. "no, diluc, i—"

burning. the kind that kindles, unrestrained. a wildfire, spurred by the earth, and on the canvas of your awaiting skin; you all but stifle his name into his shoulder, bodies now flush against each other, as diluc carves vows into your neck. vows that reassure you of his initiative and your waiting.

"i don't want to be generous when you're like this."

✧ ⁠— kaeya !

when hands close over your eyes, you merely sigh as your back meets someone's chest.

"yes, kaeya? what kind of trick are you scheming this time?"

his indulgent, sultry laugh what you receive in response, plus the obvious pinch of his chin roosting on your shoulder. strands of his hair tickle the back of your neck, and the reverberation of his voice resounds through your clavicle. "no tricks, sweetheart. but if you would be so kind as to let me steer you, then that would be much appreciated."

apprehension makes a racing course out of the cogs spilling in your mind, yet you don't see the harm in amusing your boyfriend's ploy: none of them have ever influenced you directly, save for . . . hm. you tilt your head, and kaeya prompts you forward with the encouraging shuffle of his feet.

all of them have influenced you. but it's not as if you're opposed to the promising husk in his voice.

you're spurred to the left, and then the right. vaguely, you recognize that these directions lead to your shared bedroom, and a light goes off in your head.

"you could've just said so," you suggest as the bedroom door clicks shut behind you. kaeya finally releases you from his hold, before shedding his coat and patting the space next to his thigh, inviting you to the mattress.

"i could have. but that wouldn't get you curious, right?"

damned calvary captain. for all he's worth, he makes a hobby out of reading you like a book. blithely, you shrug at his honesty, and lean your head against his shoulder once you situate yourself.

words smith themselves on your tongue, and you're all too eager to get the last bite of the dessert he's tempting you with. "do i get something in return for listening?"

kaeya pauses for a bit, craning his head to the side in mock-thought. yet both of you are aware that pure intentions were never on the menu for tonight. "hm. let's see."

you only have the mind to blink. in the bare light of candles, the jewels adorned on kaeya's clothes glimmer in hues of violet and lavender— and his eye, possibly, is also sparkling a bit too brightly for you to be completely off-guard.

kaeya hovers over you with the poise of a waterbird, balancing his lithe figure on toned forearms; the half-lidded, languid peer of his iris renders you pliant as soon as he leans down to the hollow of your throat.

"here." a soft, petal-like brush of lips on flesh. the hum you emit is the siren's call that he seeks.

"and here." the tantalizing nuzzle of his nose along your jugular.

"and," kaeya withholds his last card, biding his time as you meet his gaze. oh, his eye might as well be the moon, and his visage, the stars.

"just say is my name. if you surrender, it's all you'll ever need."

the candle glow by the bedside is snuffed out in a shower of snow. you suppose that kissing in the dark, with only the light at kaeya's fingertips, is more than enough to work off of— especially when he's eager enough to paint constellations along your neck and promise galaxies in your palms.

✧ ⁠— kazuha !

"the wind is calmer, now that it's just the two of us."

his observation, made known in the midst of dancing golden leaves, reminds you of his time abroad. kazuha always talks as if he's bouncing on air, weightless and unlimited from the confines of mundanity. and if there is age in his being, he does a poor job of concealing it; being a fugitive has made his conscience too patient for his age.

however —thankfully— he still has some boyishness in him. as you two wade your feet on the edge of liyue's docks, his smiles come by easy. and so do his poetics: the occasional tangent about how the leaves outside of inazuma smell unburdened, that nature here doesn't wither in the shadow of its inhabitants.

absentmindedly, you kick your feet in the wharf, watching crystal foam splash onto your calves. you quirk a brow at his forwardness, yet don't bother to suppress your mirth at his candor. "calmer? you better not let the rest of the crew hear that, or else they might call you ungrateful."

all you receive in return is a light laugh— as if the wandering samurai registers your jest, but his gaze is ensnared by the vast blue.

"haha, my apologies. i can't help but think how nice it is to be here."

you can't blame him for his inattention: being able to have the entire ocean view within one's horizon becomes an addiction for seafarers. perhaps, if you had a day off, then you would also spend it close to the shore.

while lost in the rolling of the tide, kazuha suddenly taps your shoulder and rouses you from your shallow mulling. with a pop of your arms as you roll them, you turn quizzically towards your long-time companion and confidant.

"by 'here'," he whispers into your ear, as if divulging a precious secret to you, "i mean here, with you."

the hints of a soft grin underlay edge of kazuha's lips, curving, when he pulls away. over the months you've been with him, you've recognized that kazuha's closeness —and entailed intimacy— is another home within itself. so his admission is heartwarming, if not already pressing a plethora love-letters into your open hands.

kazuha's kiss comes after moments of waiting. eyes beseeching yours and flickering across your visage, he closes the small distance that separates the two of you with a saccharine murmur and the interlocking of your fingers with his.

each motion of his lips is followed by a slight squeeze on your hand, and you feel like you're on the crest of a kahuna: kazuha gives the wind to you, and it takes you to the center of a crystalfly shower with far-off notes of liyuen chattering from the harbor, mumbling of simplicity and life and contentment.

resurfacing for air is a tepid task in itself, especially when kazuha is willing to offer all of his to you just so you can both indulge in each other for longer. but —you see it in his eyes, the light— perhaps lengthy periods of kissing at the docks isn't the most private place to express these sentiments.

kazuha's chest heaves for a few moments, and the two of you wait for the other to catch their breath. he speaks first, hair tousled and irises . . . eager. "if i'm being too forward, please tell me."

there's a warm, fleeting stroke over your wrist; dazed, you gaze down, and numbly realize that he's still caressing your skin.

"containing these urges can be tedious sometimes. so, if you'll let me, i won't restrain myself when we're alone."

✧ ⁠— thoma !

it's after taroumaru approves your daily leave from komore teahouse that you stumble across a rare sight— and a realization.

thoma looks really, really nice with his hair down.

despite his hair being on the shorter (and choppier) side, you're accustomed to it being tied back. off the top of your head, you can't recall an instance where thoma doesn't have a pony-tail. on one occasion, he explained to you that it's easier to work when it's not all over his face. which, as a very mobile retainer for the kamisato clan, you can envision becoming an inconvenience.

so, walking out of the teahouse and registering his presence immediately outside of the door —chest a hair's breadth away from yours, shoulders relaxed, and hair down— is more of a surprise than taroumaru's ability to communicate with his human visitors.

you think you're staring at thoma. blinking, for some reason, is an afterthought when his gaze has the mind to twine itself with yours, equally (if not more so) ensnared in a lock.

then, his visage breaks into a smile. all teeth and no reservations that are custom to his professional dealings, the kamisato retainer leans forward ever so slightly, finally resting his forearm on the shut door behind you. the gulp you let out makes your lack of foresight palpable.

thoma crooks his head, alight eyes sparkling with rare signs of devilry. "is there a reason you keep looking at me? do i have something on my face, maybe?"

you can't help but emit a huff at his teasing. okay, so you were definitely staring, but no way in the Abyss is that a crime.

"what," you attempt to match his confidence, only faltering when thoma doesn't bat an eye. "can't i look at my boyfriend every once in a while?"

he lets out a small laugh at your adamancy. abruptly, you feel strands of your hair being toyed with— thoma takes them between his fingers from the arm situated next to your head.

"i'm delighted that you think i have a nice face. but, mm . . . "

there's a light breath against your cheek; the musk of thoma engulfs you, and you swear that you're somehow on the cusp of inebriation.

"yours is a lot prettier up close, too. i want to make sure you know that."

you grasp for what you can when thoma begins pathing kisses from your ear, along the curve of your jaw, and until he ultimately halts before your lips. the pause that he instills should be illegal, but the springtime hope that he treats you to isn't nearly enough— not when you still have so much of the fabric on his jacket left to clutch.

pyro is contagious, probably, because your skin turns feverish the longer thoma hovers over you. he's observing the part between your lips, and the mere teetering you're balancing on before you speak his name. he's drawn you out like this before, but not in—

not in public.

the confliction that races across his face is near comical. briefly, thoma's eyes widen, before he affords one last laugh at the circumstance he's trapped the two of you into.

he starts following moments of deliberation within himself. "if you'd rather save this for another time, then tell me now."

you're so close to nodding. as much as you lean into his affection, if anyone noticed the kamisato chief retainer pampering his lover in this specific way . . . it would definitely reflect poorly on the clan, and you're not so sure you want to explain to the kamisato's your involvement.

"otherwise—"

your head snaps up, and all there is that you're greeted with is thoma's lopsided grin and self-indulgent musing. "i don't know when i'll stop. retainers don't get much time off, you know."

✧ ⁠— xiao !

you've always thought xiao's caution to be sweet— but the both of you know there's another reason he hesitates with his hands.

seldom does he initiate physical contact with you, and you don't dare push him if he's reluctant. but xiao himself is open to whenever you want to hold his hand or graze his arm, having long ago accepted that it's a sign of your caring. typically, he'd flick his gaze to yours in acknowledgement, before continuing onward with his tasks.

so when he brushes his worn fingers against your hand one afternoon, tentatively waiting for your attention, you're caught off-guard.

"is there something you need?" you inquire, turning around to the yaksha. xiao shakes his head, yet refuses to speak. continuing with his motions, you soon find your fingers neatly cradled in the palm of his hand. a pleasant pulse of warmth stems from your chest at the unanticipated sight.

gradually, xiao raises your hand higher, higher, until it's level with his face. the expression he wears is near undecipherable— if anything, he even seems slightly awkward, a fish out of water. out of his element.

you open your mouth to inquire what he's doing. but it's as if your body knows, and heat rushes to your cheeks as xiao brings his lips to the tips of your fingers. gentle, calculated presses of his mouth to your nails, before trailing toward your knuckles. as light as the gingko wind, xiao flutters up along the path of your bones, barely letting up until you realize,

xiao is kissing you. xiao is kissing you.

the fog in your mind is heavy. heavy with jubilation, and with a pure high running through your veins. this can't be a dream, because then xiao would eat your figure whole— xiao is cherishing the shape of you, relentless in his drive to love, until your fingers finally curl along the side of his and his lips reach your wrist.

something akin to deja vu pricks at the back of your skull.

"i wondered how it would feel to do the same," xiao's voice is . . . quiet when he breaks the heady silence. quiet and waiting.

"since you've done this for me before."

oh.

perhaps it's hard to think when your legs feel as if they're about to turn into slime and your boyfriend, honed from war and seclusion, is at your beck and call. or, perhaps, you're actually a slime right now. you can't tell over the ocean of ecstasy currently drowning your mind, nor do you think you want to resurface for air. however, the pure compliancy that xiao offers you cannot be dismissed, and you haul yourself out, anyways.

xiao cuts in, swift as the crescent moon. "what did you think?"

dumbly, you gather what words you can remember. something about how he is everything celestia could ever hope to ascend to . . . ?

"lovely." you're smiling, right? your cheeks hurt— you must be smiling out of your mind.

the yaksha nods, and it seems as if he's gathered all the feedback he needs.

slow, like the crawl of a tide. his next words render you stunned. "can i kiss you here?"

xiao brushes your lips with his thumb. there are seconds between you and the deity who once could make a winery out of his bloodshed, but all that you know in this moment is topaz.

"there's— nevermind." his words are barely coherent over the sounds of his lips messily colliding with yours, being overwhelmed by the greedy inhales he takes of your oxygen and essence. xiao speaks against your flesh as if he could carve the words into you for you to remember for lifetimes.

"you shouldn't be so willing around me. i may be gentle now, but . . . "

he says he's being gentle? you don't think he is. your mind must be a liar, because each careless flex of his fingers on your shoulders feels like the horizon of a zenith on earth.

one last rasp from the yaksha, before he sears a promise into your lips. "don't let me go further. unless you want to wear yourself out before the day ends."

✧ ⁠— zhongli !

"good evening. did you have a restful nap?"

it takes you moments to recall where you are— and whose voice inquires above you. the grogginess is too eager to remains in your eyes, but you're able to rub it away soon enough once the qingce wind tickles your cheeks.

zhongli's visage morphs into focus. with half-lidded, relaxed eyes, it's zhongli who appears that he's about to drift off, just as you did hours before. but months of being with him have taught you that his ease isn't to be mistaken for complacency, nor weariness; mortal life has treated him well, you think to yourself, as his fingers card through your hair.

"mm, yeah i did." the small yawn you let out attests to your rest. with the slight creek of your bones, you haul yourself up from the pillow of zhongli's lap, and turn to face him.

earlier in the afternoon, the autumn flowerbed around your figures struck the two of you as an inviting picnic area. the locals were more than happy to let the two of you enjoy the flora, some even being familiar with zhongli. it had been a while since he had visited this corner of liyue, but his intellect about the region is as sharp as his wit; you were lulled into the depths of sleep from the rhythm of songbirds overhead, and the soothing beat of his voice.

and now, it's near sunset. out of the corner of your eyes, you spot the leftover food that wasn't finished, and begin to pack it for the trip back to the harbor.

"thank you for letting me sleep on you. how long was i out?"

zhongli rises with you, offering a hand to assist. accepting, you're careful not to squash the flowers beneath you.

"just under two hours. don't worry," the parlor consultant does the rare action of adding before you can get a word in on edgewise, once he notes the slow, self-conscious panic over your face. "being an object for your nap is nothing to concern yourself over. i was able to read some literature i had been meaning to review."

ah, that's a relief. languid, unhurried blinks follow his reassurances, and zhongli rubs a comforting hand along your back.

"maybe the waypoint," you borderline slur, and he hums in agreement. "the one in the harbor this time, not outside it."

"haha, my apologies. i'll be more careful with my fingers this time."

yet zhongli makes no move to open your bag. you hover for the good portion of a minute before you realize that he's still peering at you— if you focus enough, you can detect the caring swims so fondly in the gold of his eyes, but there's something else lurking . . .

his mouth opens, and the fingers on your back suddenly fix themselves under your chin. the daze gradually lifts from your mind. "please remember that we have dinner with director hu tonight. a wake-up call might be due."

zhongli's stature bends with the grace of an ancient oak, and you're at the mercy of his reach— and influence. you're able to catch yourself instinctively inclining to meet him in the middle of his course, eager for his wake-up call.

but perhaps he's caught the hu tao fever. you weren't aware archons (or former archons) could be so easily susceptible to baser things, yet zhongli never fails to amaze you with his flexibility. his lips linger over yours, even as he holds your visage captive in his grasp, and he pauses, rendering the world around you static.

"there you are." his breath is a ghost dance over your skin, his irises a chain that you're all too willing to be subject under. "once we retire in the night, i'll make sure to make good on this . . . with additions, if you'll allow me to be mortal with you."

[coffee-with-genshin]

heard we were doing paimonified dainsleif now

[coffee-with-genshin]

Diluc comes home in every account that I have where Kaeya is not the main DPS. In conclusion: he's worried for his brother and come home to make sure he's ok

[coffee-with-genshin]

hi hazel!! i hope you're doing great💖 i absolutely in LOVE with your works

and then i saw that your requests are open and i wanted to ask for something with kaeya and diluc with reader who doesn't feel any sexual attraction and is very insecure about it and feels like they're unlovable because of that

i couldn't quite understand if this request fits your rules so just ignore it if it doesn't! and i hope you can understand what i meant i didn't practice writing in English for quite a long time haha😅

 More than enough

( i hope i captured your request accurately! may you find someone who will love you for exactly who you are :) <3 ) 

Warning -> SFW, general 

Character X GN Reader | Anthology 

Includes: Diluc, Kaeya

Love looks different for those inside of it, it’s about creating boundaries and expectations -- to know what you are and aren't comfortable with. Without communication, without respect for these lines you each draw in the sand, there cannot be a foundation. 

Love is many splendid things - it transcends what is assumed to what is real, and when love is real - truly, completely, unconditionally real - nothing can break that bond 

Diluc

Love language: quality time 

Diluc is a man of many things: honor, duty, follow-through, protection, and trust - these represent who he works to be, what he is, and what he holds near and dear

To have a partner, a person - his person - be a compliment to these is what he strives for. He wouldn’t want them to be anything other than that, to be yourself is to show real strength, and to be yourself in adversity is to be brave 

He noticed how you fidgeted all night. Every time you returned to the bar to prepare another round of drinks, your hand stalled over the glass, your fingers twitched near the bottle but in a matter of seconds, you were back to normal and crafting whatever was ordered. 

It might not have been apparent to others, but he always could tell when something was bothering you. His observation skills were a double-edged sword. Does he ask you what has been plaguing your thoughts or does he give you the control to bring it up to him? How could he hold back his restlessness when it came to you. So, when the doors to Angel’s Share closed, and no other patrons were left to pry, he decided to assess and understand. 

You had just finished cleaning the final glass, your toes stretching to lift you to slide it into place when you felt someone close to you. Turning, you found Diluc and his extended arm behind your back as if to offer you assistance while keeping his distance. 

“Thank you. That should be it.” You explained, turning to look at him and giving him a reassuring nod.

“You worked hard tonight.” His arms crossed and his gaze dropped to the floor. 

“So did you.” You moved to walk past him but stopped when the edge of his hand pressed against your arm. “Is something wrong?” You asked, stepping back and looking into his ruby eyes. 

“I wanted to ask you that. Today, you seemed distracted.” 

“Oh -- so you noticed.” 

“I always notice you.” He tapped your chin with his fingers, the action a signal to look at him, honest with him. 

“I saw this couple today. They were being … overly affectionate with each other …” You picked at invisible items on the counter and tried your best to avoid his intense stare. “I thought … I’ll never be like that and how un-” You cleared your throat, “ … how unfair that was for you because I’m sure you’d like to --” You caught sight of his hand, the red side of his glove flashing in your peripherals. 

“Before you drift into unnecessary thoughts, I must ask if you trust me.” 

“Of course, you know that.” 

“Then trust me when I say I love you. I do not need anything more than your commitment to be beside me; to have your company is far more than I could ever ask for.” 

“Are you sure that’s okay?” 

“It is more than okay - to ask you to be anything different than the person I fell for, would be denying you your dignity. It is you that I fell in love with - all of you.” You looked up at him, the earnest intensity in his gaze and the words he spoke rang so prominently in your ears that it shook all the worries you had gathered from the day. 

“Thank you, for choosing to love me.” 

“I feel much more than that, I cherish you.” He uncrossed his arms and you quickly took their place. In the creaking bar, under the flickering lights, you felt loved by the man whose head rested on yours and hand trailed over your back. 

Kaeya

Love language: physical touch, acts of service 

Touch can be many things - it can be a soft hand resting on yours, it can be a reassuring pat on the back, it can be a brush over your cheek when you need a reminder to smile - it can be soft and reserved just as much as it can be intense -- and it can be just as powerful, if not more so, to hold someone with no other intentions than to just feel their presence 

Kaeya’s may have ulterior motives, he may have secrets that he will share with you when the time is right - but there is nothing hidden about his feelings for you and he would show you in ways that prove to you how important you are  

He found you sitting on the grass under the large windmill. Your hair fluttering in the wind as your hand moved quickly over your sketchpad. It was apparent that you’d been there for a while by the progress of your sketch, the fine details and lines of varying weights demonstrated your ability to capture what you saw - even if it was from days long past. 

“You’ve captured my likeness so well.” He jested, leaning over your shoulder and catching you off guard. 

“Kaeya!” Twisting your body, you turned to look up at him, your eyes squinting from the brightness of the sun. 

“I must stay, no wonder people spill their secrets to me, how can anyone deny that face?” He laughed and out of your embarrassment you flipped your sketchpad over, hiding your drawing from view. 

“Shouldn’t you be out on patrol?” He didn’t answer your question at first, instead, he settled into the space next to you. His shoulder touching yours, hair tickling your skin. 

“Are you trying to push me away, how hurtful - I only just got here.” His lips twisted into a pout, but you knew it was all a ploy, a trick of his to get you to give into him. 

“Whatever, I’m not your boss.” Laughing, you gave him a playful shove before letting your pencil traverse the paper once again. Kaeya watched you for a while, his hands pressing into the grass behind him as he observed you working. Every once in a while, he looked up at the sky, his eye closed, a soft smile on his face. It was true that he was pretty, that was a given; it was also true that he was popular -- he could have anyone that he wanted and he chose you. Normally, that would cause a person to feel pride, but you felt anxious. Was it right to love him, did he really feel the same way, or was this all some joke somehow. 

“Share your thoughts with the class.” 

“Huh?” His voice pulled you from your thoughts, your hand pausing and face turning to look at him. 

“You’re thinking about something serious.” 

“How can you tell?” 

“You’re tapping your pencil, you only do that when something is weighing on you.” 

“Oh …” Was it right to share this worry with him, what if this was the thing that pushed him away and into someone else's … the thought made you sick. Knowing Kaeya, if you didn’t tell him he’d only pester you about it until finally the words were shared. “I was just thinking about why you chose me when you could have anyone else. I can’t give you that … well, you know.” 

Your eyes glanced at him quickly, searching for just a moment for his response. “Well, now. I had never considered that would be on your mind.” 

“Why not? I mean -- we’ve been together for a while and I’m sure you’ve been expecting it --” 

“My dear y/n, I have never once expected more from you than just being who you are.” 

“But is that enough for you?” 

He shifted, leaning forward so your eyes had to land on him and no one else, “Is that enough? You are far more than enough." He caught your eyes and made sure you heard him, "You’re my partner, and the only way to change that is for me to die.” 

“That’s so dramatic.” You laughed, rubbing your eyes to work out the hint of tears growing there. 

“If it gets my point across, so be it.” He smiled and let his fingers run over your ear as he let his truths settle into your heart. 

--

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[coffee-with-genshin]

H-husbando squad.... Hhh i love them all

Genshin Impact Dating Simulator. Who would you pick first?

[coffee-with-genshin]

[coffee-with-genshin]

x

[coffee-with-genshin]

Sunlight