#bitebitekink2k24

THOMA being among the first to hear about the Irodori Festival, as close as he is with the Kamisato Siblings. He, like everyone else, is brimming with excitement at this mark of a new era, a sign the war and the Sakoku Decree are truly over.

THOMA running around as his job as a ‘fixer’ and ensuring all the Yashiro Commission's affairs are going smoothly, so determined to make the festival go perfectly that Ayaka and Ayato are forced to order him to take a break for his own health.

THOMA, who is most comfortable when working hard, so of course it’s only a few hours into his first day off that he starts to get antsy. He says he’s fine, laments that he’s basically been put on house arrest but acknowledges that it could do him some good. But you know your boyfriend, and you know he can’t stand being idle when others are working hard. By the time he’s knitted his twelfth animal sweater in the span of two hours, you decide you need to help the poor man get out of his head.

THOMA, who looks like a vision after the fifth orgasm has been wrung out of him; eyes rolled back into his head, face wet with tears and drool. His pale skin flushes so pretty, Mondstadt genetics working hard to ensure he’s as red as the vision laying on the bedside table— all the way down his neck and chest right down to the head of his leaky cock.

THOMA, who can’t even get proper words out anymore, fucked dumb as high pitched whines escape his throat.

THOMA who babbles out your name— or at least, his best approximation of it. Syllables melt together in his mouth and devolve into mindless groans, broken up each time you nail his prostate. “Guh-uh-uh— please~”

THOMA whose eyes might as well have hearts in them, looking up at you with a reverence he could never muster for any archon. Any coherent thought pushed out of his mind, only leaving you, youyouyou—

THOMA cumming dry, nothing left in his balls, but his body twitches gloriously through every aftershock. He whimpers when you try to pull out, ankles locking behind you back as he pulls you closer.

“More, more, ngh… please♡—”

THOMA being addicted to the pleasure, demanding you don’t stop. Even when he starts to cry, even when it starts to hurt, even when he’s past the point of even a dry orgasm. Fuck this poor man until his eyes roll back into his head and he checks out entirely. Maybe he’s unconscious, maybe his brain has just fried beyond repair and there’s not a drop of intelligence left to be demonstrated.

“This is your archon form?”

It was absurd. You had been expecting something elegant, regal even; something befitting of a god as old as him. But as usual, Venti could never follow what was expected of an archon.

“Something wrong?” he asked teasingly, his face upside down as he lounged on one of the thick branches of Venessa’s tree. The way he was completely limp, back arched over the branch with his upper body and legs dangling on either side, showcased his flexibility, and with what he was wearing you could see every twitch and line of tension in his muscles.

“You went up in front of all of Mondstadt like this?” You stared at him in disbelief. “You look like you’re wearing lingerie.”

The impish little god burst out laughing, nearly falling out of the tree. If not for his wings frantically adjusting his balance, he certainly would have. Instead, with a move far too grateful for a man known as the local drunkard, he slipped out of the tree and landed lightly before you, summoning a wind current to slow his descent.

“How rude. Is this how you treat your god?” He purred, not looking offended in the slightest. His arms came up to wrap around your shoulders, leaning into you.

“When that god looks like a slut…” you muttered, grabbing him by his waist. His waist that was completely bare, nothing obscuring his smooth alabaster skin. The outfit he wore barely covered his modesty at the bottom, with the top half only just hiding his nipples. It was clear the statues made in his likeness were far more… generous with the amount of cloth his archon guise was composed of.

The word seemed to strike a chord in him and you could hear his breath stuttering, pupils blown wide. Running your hand down his side, you played with the scrap of fabric that made up his shorts. The material was thin and, with the way he pressed his hips into you, you could easily feel the outline of his small cock, already half hard.

“Is that why you dress like this?” You slipped your hand past the waistband of Venti’s shorts. “You parade around wearing these scraps hoping someone would see their beloved archon as the slut he really is, huh?” His hands curled into the back of your shirt, clinging to you as his knees buckled. You caught him before the poor thing could fall, shifting your collective weight so he could stay upright, clutching you.

“That’s not… true,” he protested weakly, squirming as he tried to move his hips up, tried to close the distance between your fingertips skimming his v-line, and his weeping cock that begged for attention.

“So needy, Barbatos~” The sound of his archon name made him buck harshly, and you didn’t give him a moment to breathe before you wrapped your palm around him.

“Ah♡~” Venti moaned, forehead dropping to rest on your shoulder.

“Gods, yes, yes!” His pretty wails grew louder as you sped up, gripping his length tightly while circling your thumb over the top. When you dug your nail into his slit, his plush lips opened around a punched out cry, his wings snapping forward to surround the both of you.

The sudden movement offset your balance, and the two of you tumbled back onto the grass. Despite Venti shielding you from the impact, he didn’t even seem to notice, writhing as he begged for more stimulation. Leaning down, you licked a stripe over his ribs, tracing the glowing blue markings that inked his skin.

“Look at you,” you murmured against his lithe body. “Dressed like this…” With your free hand, you grabbed his face, squishing his round cheeks as you forced him to meet your gaze. “You’re fucking asking for it, aren’t you? Desperate for anyone off the street to realise you’re nothing but a slutty little pleasurepet who wants to be used.”

“Gah—guh, huh—” Venti couldn’t even form words. Even if you hadn’t been smushing his face, his tongue was numb in his mouth, unwilling to cooperate as he mindlessly babbled from your touch. Finally, as he got close to the edge, he managed to get out, “Can I— canIpleasecanI—”

“Go on.” With your permission, he let the orgasm hit him with full force. He threw his head back, small tufts from his feathers raining down on you as his wings quivered, the cocoon tightening around you like he was unwilling to let you pull away. You pulled your hand out of his shorts, a wet spot staining the material and making him look even more debauched.

So, AU where it’s still teyvat as we know it, but Cyno is a priest for Kusanali. I can’t imagine Cyno not being a fighter so let’s say he still enacts judgment on criminals as a hobby.

And everything is as it should be UNTIL he stumbles across a group attempting to summon a creature from the abyss. He deals with them, of course, but ends up accidentally spilling his blood on the ritual site, inadvertently binding himself to you.

Countless hours upon days upon weeks of searching for a solution prove fruitless. But when he realises that you can’t harm him or anyone else as long as you’re tied to him, he decides that for the safety of everyone he will bear the burden of your presence. You’re determined to prove this beloved priest isn’t as pure as he pretends to but to no avail. Wealth, power, cruelty, none of these things sway him from his duties.

Sure, bothering Cyno is always fun, but you start to tire of the same song and dance, of being little more than a nuisance. So you try the one thing you haven’t tempted him with yet: pleasure.

You catch him while he’s praying, wanting to take advantage of him on his knees. It’s easy to drape yourself over his back, to trace your palms down his chest while he tries to ignore your touch, whispering taunts in his ear.

He tries to grumble about your behaviour, but his words cut off with a sharp inhale as you slip his earlobe into your mouth. Your arm is a brand around his waist, too strong from him to successfully jerk away.

“I can make you feel so much better than your precious piety,” you purr, hooking a claw in his collar. It tears through the fabric like butter and, while you shove one thigh between both of his, you realise despite all his objections he’s rock hard.

He would glare at you after you slam his back onto the floor, snarl and try to fight while you pin him down. But all his strength is no match for an inhuman being like yourself.

“What are you trying to accomplish?” His ruby gaze looks up at you through snowy eyelashes. It would almost be pretty if not for the scowl that marred it. “The bond won’t allow you to harm me.”

“But it’s not harm if it feels good, is it?”

He looks gorgeous, wrists pinned by one of your hands above his head, hair disheveled and clothes torn open revealing his defined chest. With your free hand, you lightly circle the expanse of his neck, pondering what to do with him at your mercy.

He threatens you, tries to ward you off, but the second you get your fingers in mouth he goes still. You don’t even need to hold open his jaw— the man doesn’t even try to bite down.

For a man so proud, so stoic, he falls so quickly the second he gets a taste of the sin he’s been avoiding his whole life. Even gagging around your fingers, tears beading in the corner of his eyes, he’s limp and unwilling to fight back. Push down on his tongue and watch his eyes roll back into his head, grind down on him and he groans so prettily.

He looks even better once you replace your fingers with something bigger. The mere sight of your cock makes his eyes go glassy, gets him panting like a dog as you fist his hair, pulling him close. He doesn’t know what to do, that much is obvious, but it’s nothing some gentle encouragement can’t fix.

“Let me in baby, just like you did with my fingers,” you murmur, a sweet tone hiding how thoroughly you were planning to wreck him. Cyno tongues clumsily at your tip before letting it slip past his lips, slowly taking your length into his mouth.

Too slow, in fact.

He chokes as you slam into him, making him take you to the hilt. He cries around your cock, words muffled and barely intelligible— “Ngh♡~ ‘oo ‘ig~” —but you don’t let him move away as you start to fuck his throat without remorse.

He whines and his throat constricts around you, struggling to take it all, but he remains hard throughout. Eventually, he goes limp, hands curled into the material of your trousers as he accepts his position. Cyno can choke and cry but he can’t hide the fact he’s hard, his usual cold exterior stripped away and reduced to a wet, desperate mess. Even after you cum down his throat, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he struggles to swallow everything, he still can’t get enough. Pulling away only leads to him whining, following you to close the distance once more. He babbles around your cock, words unintelligible, but his actions make it clear he refuses to be dragged away.

The conversation happened late one night in his apartment above the funeral parlour. Both of you were a few cups deep in the Osmanthus Wine Zhongli always kept stocked, likely the only reason you even ended up on this topic in the first place.

“Didn’t you used to be the God of War, or something?” you asked him, lazily sprawled across his bed.

Zhongli sat prim and proper in his desk chair with only the light blush dusting his cheeks giving away his inebriation. “Indeed I was,” he replied, eyes half lidded as he propped his cheek on his fist. For a man so composed, seeing the slightest loss of said composure looked almost scandalous. Even the way his jacket and waistcoat was removed, tie loosened and hanging low, made him look completely undressed. “And in some ways, I suppose some parts of me always will be.”

“But… you’re so tame.” You lifted your head slightly, meeting his eyes. “I don’t think anyone would believe a god of war has the demeanour of a retired old man.”

“I am a retired old man.” He chuckled, watching you intently. “But I was not always like this. I believe what you’re picturing is how I was in my youth.”

During the archon war, he did not say. But you heard it nonetheless.

Curiously, you rolled over on your stomach, keeping your head up so you could get a better look at him. “So what were you like back then? Feral? Hotheaded? Ravaging anyone you came across?”

“In more ways than one,” Zhongli muttered, and you were sure you had misheard him.

Did he just—

Was he implying—

Blinking, you sat up, hopelessly fascinated by the turn this conversation was taking. Whether it was the alcohol or a stroke of insanity, Zhongli acted like what he had said was perfectly par for the course. Testing the waters, you decided to be as blunt as possible, to see if it would snap him out of the nonchalance or if his confession was truly a calculated one.

“So the old man knows how to fuck,” you said. “Gotta admit, I didn’t expect that.”

If anything, his low chuckle grew more devious. Hiding a smirk behind his palm, he gave you an almost smug look. “When you have lived for as long as I have… there’s not much you haven’t experienced.”

Okay, he was definitely drunker than he looked. But then again, so were you if you were encouraging this madness.

“What exactly do those experiences include?”

“…would you like a demonstration?”

Fuckkkk. What the hell was happening?

Before you could even begin to process, he stood up and began walking towards you. Gloved fingers tracing down the buttons of his shirt, he began undoing them as he loomed over where you sat on the bed. Hardly believing your luck that he was actually going through with this, you shuffled back to make room for him to crawl over you, eagerly assisting him with the rest of his shirt.

If you thought he was undressed before, now he was positively debauched. His open shirt hung from his broad frame, revealing tanned skin and the rippling muscles from millennia of physical training. Peeking out from the shoulders were black scales, and you knew the coloring would extend down under his sleeves to the rest of his arms, inked with those elegant golden patterns he kept hidden: a sign of his divinity he couldn’t hide even like this.

As his head ducked down, lips angling to meet yours, you couldn’t help reaching out to feel, to place your palms against the hard planes of his chest, gliding across the smooth skin. And then, as your touch gravitated to the dusky brown peaks of his nipples, thumbs absentmindedly brushing over the buds, Zhongli jerked back.

His body jolted like a current had passed through it, the sound ripped from his throat deep and guttural and obscene. His head had fallen back, the long expanse of his throat and trembling Adam's apple free for your eyes to feast on.

“What..?” He panted, head lolling to the side as he tried to turn his gaze back to you. “What did you just..?”

Fascinated by the reaction, you lightly brushed it again— just one this time —only to have him cry out once more. “Was this not included in your experience?” You asked, grinning slyly. “You’ve never had your nipples touched?”

“My—” You didn’t let him finish, twisting them this time. Zhongli grunted, hips bucking harshly as he doubled over. The hands he had placed on your shoulders were the only thing keeping him from falling into you entirely. “But this form… I’m not a woman…” He spoke in between his struggles for air, face pinched like the pleasure he was feeling was painful.

“Is that what you think? That only women feel good from this?” As if to prove your point, you pressed down on one of his nipples, rubbing circles on it with the pad of your thumb. Finally collapsing, his head fell onto your shoulder, unable to hold himself up as his body writhed with the sensations you were administering. “Plenty of men find it enjoyable to be touched here. And you seem especially—” You meanly flicked one of the hardened buds, causing him to sputter, choking at the intensity of the feeling. “—sensitive.”

It was heady, having this powerful man, this god who’s lifespan was incomprehensible to your mortal mind, fall apart so beautifully in your lap. All he could do was cling to you while his body wracked with pleasure, helpless as you played with his nipples, an unrelenting and merciless attack.

“Can’t—” He groaned, breath picking up even more as he started muttering in your ear. “You need to stop, or I’ll— ‘M gonna—”

Instead of stopping, you had a better idea. Pushing him slightly, just so he was upright again in front of you, you met Zhongli’s lust-drunk (and regular drunk) gaze with your own wicked one. Without warning, you pressed your lips to his nipple, sealing them around the peak, and sucked.

You had no idea it was possible for Zhongli’s rich, dulcet tones to get so high. He mewled, clinging to your arms so tightly you felt the pricks of his claws through your clothes— they must have extended through the material of his gloves, as out of it as he was. Tremors ran through him as his hips snapped forward and he came, chanting your name under his breath. Slumping into you once again, he let himself try to catch his breath as you released his abused nipples from your torture. Snaking your arms around his waist, you held him tight to your chest, already planning your next move.

GOROU who is Watatsumi’s fearless General, fierce and strong with a strategic mind that is only bested by the Divine Priestess herself.

GOROU, whose canine features are rarely ever seen as cute. In war there is little time for grooming, and so his fur is usually knotted and littered with debris, dirt and sticks tangled in the strands of his tail. Even after the Vision Hunt Decree is over, and he can take basic care of his tail and ears, the stern expression and deadly aim of the man easily dissuade any associations to the Shiba Inus he resemble.

GOROU, who would never let himself be undermined by his physical attributes, who would never stoop so low as to allow someone to stroke his fur like he’s some common housepet.

GOROU, who looks so pretty sitting at your feet with a collar around his throat, eyes glazed over as his mind goes numb. Reduced to his base instincts, he can’t help but bury his face between your thighs, panting as he tries to get lungfuls of your scent. His tongue— more dexterous than any human’s —laps at you in a frenzy, and the whines and growls that tear from his throat are nothing short of animalistic.

GOROU, who mewls so sweetly when you call him your pretty puppy, such a good boy, aren’t you~? His eyes turn to hearts when you scratch his ears, melting on top of you as he ruts against your hip, nothing but a mutt who needs it, please, I’ll be good, such a good puppy, can’t waitcan’t— until you tug on the back of his collar, tug on the end of his leash, jerking his head back and cutting off his words with a choke. He cries out beautifully, tripping over the edge from that alone. But it’s not enough, it’s never enough for such a greedy pet, and you use him again and again until he’s wrung dry, babbling and yipping like there’s nothing left in his brain besides being a dumb dog.

It was always peaceful being in headquarters after hours. Of course, you didn’t ever intend to work overtime, but the soothing atmosphere of halls without a soul around— apart from the guards at their stations, of course —was a nice consolation. Walking out of your office, you were ready to finally get back home. You had no pressing work to attend to the next morning, meaning had the chance to lie in after your late night.

Except… you noticed one of the doors you passed was open: The Calvary Captain’s office. The light was off inside but the movement you caught through the crack in the door made you pause.

You spotted Kaeya, leaning against the wall behind his desk right next to the cracked open window. There was an odd sense of ease about him that wasn’t usually there, like the carefully constructed personality he always held had been stripped back, revealing something more natural.

He also looked to be… smoking something?

“It’s not polite to stare, you know.”

The smooth voice snapped you from your thoughts. Kaeya didn’t glance back at you, gaze still trained on the view outside, but tension creeped back into his shoulders. You only noticed it because of how deeply you observed him, driven by fascination or admiration— you couldn’t tell which.

Considering he hadn’t told you to fuck off, you figured it was safe to slip into the office, shutting the door behind you. “Captain,” you greeted.

He laughed, a chuckle too even and perfect to be entirely genuine. “Oh come now, we’re both off the clock. There’s no need for formalities…” Finally his gaze turned to you, even as he kept his face angled away. Taking another drag or whatever was between his fingers, he softly exhaled out the window. Smoke curled over the edge of his lips, dancing up into the cool night air. Unlike regular fire smoke, this smelled floral with perhaps a dash of mint. Astute as ever, he picked up your curiosity right away. “This is a blend of herbs from Liyue,” he explained. “Albedo has been experimenting with them and found they contain possible medicinal properties.”

“…when smoked?” You asked.

Kaeya smirked, the joint between his lips as he replied, “That’s what I’m trying to find out.” There was a lull in the conversation, but it didn’t feel awkward. “Why are you here so late, anyways?”

“Was finishing off a report.” You shrugged, leaving out the fact that it only took so long because you fell asleep halfway through. “Figured I’d get it done tonight so I can enjoy my day off tomorrow. What about you?”

“It’s peaceful…” The smile that graced his lips was smaller and softer than the usual cheshire grins he sported. And along with being smaller, it also looked… vaguely sad. “…being in headquarters after hours.” It seemed like this wasn’t the first time he had stayed back like this. You couldn’t help but wonder if he truly preferred staying here, or if he was just reluctant to go home. But you knew trying to pry would only ruin whatever connection you had built with him. Moving forward, you rested your hip against the edge of his desk, watching the moon highlight his silhouette as he stood before the window.

“What does that taste like?” You changed the subject to something less sensitive, nodding at the joint in question.

Pursing his lips in thought, he twirled the * from one slender finger to another. “It’s hard to explain… Care to try for yourself?” Raising an eyebrow, he handed it to you.

You hesitated. There didn’t look like there was much left. But, then again, you didn’t dare disrupt the mood that had fallen over the two of you. It felt almost… intimate— being allowed to glimpse something more personal of the Cavalry Captain when he could have instead politely dismissed you. Taking it from his hand, you glanced up at him.

“Did this help you with anything?” You asked. Then, awkwardly, you added, “Medically.”

He hummed, considering. “It seemed to help with a headache I had earlier,” he admitted. “There’s something quite soothing about it. I can’t tell if it’s the work of the herb or simply the action itself.”

He did look more peaceful than you had ever seen him. It was as if an underlying tension you had never even noticed in his frame was finally released. You felt bad to deprive him of the last of it. In fact, a small, daring part of you had a terrible idea to resolve that issue…

No. No, that would be a bad idea. This wasn’t some random man at Angel’s Share who you could get closer to under the excuse of having one too many drinks. This was the Cavalry Captain, who may not have been your superior— you weren’t in the cavalry, after all— but was still a superior as you certainly weren’t any kind of captain. So, to avoid acting on the very inappropriate thought bouncing around your head, you placed the joint between your lips and breathed in.

You expected to choke or maybe just feel an unpleasant burn as you usually did with the second hand smoke you had smelled. But it seemed, whatever herb Albedo had procured produced fumes that were light, like mist or the crisp morning air. The taste was faint, but sweet, and slightly floral.

Taking a step closer, Kaeya asked, “How is it?” After holding in the smoke, enjoying the pleasant buzz, you exhaled in order to reply. Turning your gaze back to him, you realised his own was trained on your lips.

You couldn’t even pretend it was the smoke he was looking at; his stare remained even after the plume dispersed into the air of the room. This close you could see his eye more clearly than ever, a deep blue that mirrored the night sky behind him. It even had its own star: a gorgeous pupil with points like a diamond. Though, the edges were less sharp than usual as it had blown wide, and you didn’t think it was simply the darkness of the room causing that reaction.

That same, terrible idea began to rear its head, sounding much less terrible than before. Before you could lose your nerve, before the moment could pass, you said, “We could share.”

Kaeya’s brows furrowed, a bemused smile playing on his lips, as he leaned in even closer. Taking another drag of the joint, you barely even let it sit in your lungs before gently blowing the smoke into his face, letting him breathe it in. His lashes fluttered as he drifted closer, like there was some force pulling him in. Then, his hand came up to cradle your face. Nimble fingers curled around the edge of your jaw and you held back a shudder; for a cryo user his touch was deliciously warm.

You couldn’t help but lick your lips, a reaction to your throat going dry more than anything, but it seemed to push Kaeya to close the distance between you entirely. His lips moved against yours with a gentle ferocity— not rough or demanding but desperate all the same. Your bodies came together and the two of you twisted, losing track of your surroundings for a moment. Then, gravity pulled you down and Kaeya was slumped over his desk with his elbows propping him up, your own body above him after just barely catching your balance.

That didn’t stop either of you, however. Without ever breaking apart from him, from the soft slide of his lips and the strong grip on your hips, you grabbed his plush thighs and lifted. You used the leverage to slide him further up on the surface, adjusting to hover over him with one knee on the edge of the desk.

Gripped by another delicious idea, this time with no reservations to hold back, you pulled back just enough to take one last drag of the joint, while there was still any left of it. Then, before Kaeya could do anything more than open his mouth to complain at you pulling away, you sealed your open mouth to his and breathed out.

Smoke billowed out from the seam where your lips met, and he let out a high keen as his eyes rolled back. His hands moved up your back, arms circling to tug you flush against him and your own found themselves planted on either side of his head. You couldn’t tell if it was the lack of air or way his tongue rubbed against the underside of yours, but your head was spinning. Maybe you were high— could this thing even get you high? You still didn’t know exactly what was in it, but the fucking Calvary Captain himself was kissing you and letting out the sweetest sounding little moans so who cared?

The silky strands of his hair brushed against your face, more and more coming loose as your hand— and when did that get there? —held his head.

Kaeya’s honey-smooth voice came out in a broken chain of noises, arching his back so he could press up against you. You sunk your teeth into his plush bottom lip before realising the burning in your lungs wasn’t just from the smoke.

As you pulled back for air you saw the last of the smoke leaving his lungs. The plumes curled out from his lips and into the air, before being disrupted by his own panting as he tried to catch his breath. You gave him the chance to while you turned your attention to his neck, peppering kisses down the expanse of his throat.

“Mm~ Please,” he murmured, sounding completely gone— drunk off of lust and perhaps Albedo’s mystery drug.

You bruised his pretty skin, leaving teeth marks in your wake, until you realised what was left of the joint was still burning. It had been reduced to a small nub of paper between your fingers. Kaeya followed your gaze and his eyes lit.

“Let me,” he purred, fingers wrapping around your wrist and gently guiding your hand close to his mouth. In one graceful, sinful move, he pressed the lit end of the joint to his tongue, putting it out with a quiet hiss. The flash of cryo around the stub explained how he hadn’t flinched. Your eyes were locked onto it, heat pooling in your stomach as he took the paper roll between his teeth and pulled it from you, tossing it to the side with a snap of his head. Then, he tugged your arm closer and licked a stripe up your forearm, peering up at you through his long lashes with a molten gaze.

Fuck, he knew exactly what he was doing. It made your blood burn, and you would’ve pounced on him again if he hadn’t continued speaking.

“You know, my office isn’t exactly the most… well-equipped,” he admitted. “But I can think of somewhere else we would be more comfortable.”

You couldn’t help but grin at his offer, marvelling at the disheveled state of his attire: jacket slipping down his shoulders, hair coming loose from his ponytail, the fabric of his trousers straining against his—

“Then by all means,” you replied with a grin.

Day 1 Lingerie- Venti x reader (gender neutral)

Day 2: Priest kink- Priest!Cyno x reader (AMAB)

Day 3: Petplay- Gorou x reader (gender neutral)

Day 4: Nipple play- Zhongli x reader (gender neutral)

Day 5: Shotgunning- Kaeya x knight!reader (gender neutral)

Day 6: Overstimulation/mind break- Thoma x reader (can be read as AMAB or a strap-on being used)

Day 7: Telepathy- SAGAU Itto x God!reader (gender neutral)

Day 8: Begging- Neuvilette x reader

Day 9: Sex Pollen- Tighnari x reader

Day 10: Temperature play- Kaeya x pyro user!reader

Day 11: Choking- Childe x reader

Day 12: Collaring- Wriothesley

Day 13: Daddy/Mommy-

Day 14

Day 15: Tattoos-

Day 16: Sex toys- Chongyun x reader

Day 17: Olfactophilia (scent kink)- Zhongli x reader (AFAB)

Day 18: Kneeling, corset, body worship- SAGAU Kaeya x reader

Day 19: Shibari- Kaveh x reader

Day 20: Size difference- Itto x reader

Day 21: Pegging- Childe x reader (AFAB)

Day 22: Scars-

Day 23: Cockwarming- Alhaitham x reader

Day 24: Harness- Childe x reader

Day 25: Human furniture- Ayato x spouse!reader

Day 26: Master/slave- SAGAU Morax!Zhongli x reader

Day 27: Handjobs- Albedo x reader

Day 28: A/B/O- Diluc x reader

Day 29: Gags-

Day 30: CNC- Karmic madness!Xiao x Traveler!Reader