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ALHAITHAM
— Alhaitham's kisses are mostly simple, to the point, chaste, but passionate all the same
— Despite only lasting a few seconds, he's able to make you feel all of his love with his lips in those moments
— The moment he pulls away, you're left breathless and wanting more
— That's probably why his kisses are so quick; he's teasing you purposefully
— Perhaps he wants you to beg for another one, and the pout on your face just might make him indulge you
— When he's feeling merciful, he'll kiss you for much longer, not giving a bit of pause to his attack on your lips
— And like with every move he makes, it's methodical and well planned out
— Going in when you least expected it, the gentle caress of his larger hand on your waist, the brief moment of respite when his lips drifted from yours, just to go in for another kiss, much more consuming than the last
— He does this, and then all too soon, he walks away, barely able to hide the smirk on his face
— Smug bastard
CHILDE
— Childe's kisses are a little rougher, but they're also filled with every ounce of love he has for you
— He tends to have a certain look in his eyes when he wants to kiss you, a hungry look, if you will
— The moment his hands are on your hips, holding you close enough to feel his breath fanning your face, you know you won't be going anywhere for a while
— Childe likes to kiss your jaw first, pressing sweet yet slightly forceful pecks around your face before finally reaching your lips
— When your mouth meets his, it's a fight in it of itself, and Childe hates to lose
— Typically, when in a heavy make-out session, Childe uses some underhanded methods to "win," aka get you to let him take the lead
— He trails his hands up and down your sides, whether you're ticklish or not; it gives you goosebumps either way
— Sometimes he just pulls away for a split second, only to dive right back in with more fervor, including his tongue to make things extra exciting
—And every now and then, he slips his hand under your shirt, but instead of copping a feel, he traces patterns into your skin, circles, hearts, and occasionally spells out his name
— He likes it when you let out little sounds during this time; it lets him know that he's doing well, but if you stutter out his name, Ajax, he'll lose it and probably double down on his efforts
SCARAMOUCHE
— Scaramouche's kisses are few and far between; he's the type to rarely show affection, even in private moments
— But on the rare occasion he does kiss you, it's usually out of anger and possession
— Some Fatui disciple hitting on you? He's this close to knocking their lights out, but first Scaramouche has to show them what they're missing out on
— His mouth is pressed harshly to yours, one hand gripping your waist hard, the other tilting your chin up to meet his intense gaze
— If he's not kissing to show off, he's doing it because he's pent up
— A mission not going as planned? His subordinates not doing their jobs properly? It's frustrating for him, so he tends to take that out on you
— Whether that be a particularly rough make-out or something a bit more active, he leaves it up to you
— A deviation from all this would be if you asked for a kiss; it'd shock him for sure, but he'd indulge no matter what, not that he'd tell you
— Scaramouche isn't really known for being gentle, but he would do his best if you asked, a softer kiss from him entailing soft brushes of your hair with his fingertips and a tender hold of your waist
— And for a small moment, he feels a bit of contentment, just happy to hold you in his arms
XIAO
— Xiao's kisses are almost scared, hesitant, so delicate and soft, as if he's afraid to hurt you
— When asked for a kiss, he leans down to your level, and a mere peck on the forehead is what he gives; much to your dismay
— If asked for more, he stumbles, unsure of whether to give in to you or not
— He knows if he divulges, there's no turning back, he'll crave your lips, your touch, for the rest of time, until the world is nothing but sand and nothingness
— For that moment of brief pause, he almost pulls away, but the pleading look in your eyes tells him not to
— With Xiao's lips crashing to yours, rough for a second, but quickly softening at the taste of your chapstick on his lips
— He doesn't really know where to put his hands, but you guide them to wrap around your waist, silently asking for a hug, which he gives in to with little pushback at this point
— The moment he does pull away, all he can do is stare into your eyes, the love and adoration in his golden irises are as clear as ever
— With what little self-restraint he had left, he stopped himself from fully taking you somewhere else to continue, only letting himself stare at your face, taking in every detail possible, memorising each and every one
— He wanted to cherish the sight of you, as if it would be his last, fully knowing it could be
WRIOTHESLEY
— Wriothesley's kisses are gentle yet commanding; a bit of confidence goes a long way for him
— He holds your hand in his, head bowed to meet your lips in a saccharine kiss, rough, calloused hands tracing the lines of your palms in a slow and repetitive motion
— He likes to start with your neck, kissing a line from the junction where your shoulder meets your throat to your jawline, pressing softly and precisely each time
— If he's feeling particular, he'll nip at your neck before each kiss, so quick it's hard to recognize what he's doing until his mouth is on yours again, leaving all coherent thoughts out the window
— Sometimes he lifts you by the legs, setting you on his desk, so he doesn't have to crane his neck so far down to reach you
— And every now and then, he pushes you against a wall, boosting you high enough to meet his stare squarely
— His smirk is confident, eyes filled with love only you could bring out of him, breath slightly heaving from the constant liplocking
— He'd press his lips against yours rather quickly after that, not willing to wait another moment where he wasn't fully enveloped in you
— Wriothesley likes to leave you gasping for breath, a testament to his skill as a lover
— He particularly enjoys hearing you whine his name; it sends a jolt throughout him that no battle could ever match
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