#sweaty asks

[sweatyballs-fim]

PHAN IS REAL

who the fuck

[sweatandwoe]

How about a short smut of Copia or Secondo/Reader where the Reader just comes in, shoves them down and just takes over because they need to let off some STEAM.

Hell yeah. Here's some Bone Daddy

MDNI - Secondo x F!Reader - P in V, Riding, Angry Sex (One-sided), Married

-

He knows you're in a bad mood the moment you step into his office. Secondo peers his head up, blinking at the sight of your fury-filled form. "Amore-?" He had moved to stand, but you've already crossed the room and your hands dig into the meat of his shoulders.

When you slide into his lap next, pushing him further back into his chair, Secondo isn't going to deny that it's a bit more than a turn-on.

The kiss you give him is sloppy. All tongue and teeth clashing. He wasn't in his robes today, and you're making quick work of his belt. The old man gives no hint for you to stop, his arousal growing with each moment.

It wasn't rare that you were eager, but it was rarer that you approached him. Especially like this.

It's animalistic, feral, primal - he thinks he's falling in love with you all over again as you pull your panties to the side, lining yourself up and sliding down. "Fuck," His hands move to your hips, helping to lift them and bring them back down.

There are no words really said, just noises and more teeth clashing. Your nails scratching into his back, along his shoulders. He'll have marks, possibly even holes in his shirt. And Satan below he could not care less about it.

His fingers will leave bruises on your hips as he helps you bounce, fast and hard. Thrusting his hips up to meet you. Your lips graze, staring at one another in a final moment before he watches your head tilt. A strangled moan leaves your lips, as you cum. And he follows quickly after, with a loud grunt that breaks off into a moan.

You both sat there, neither moving as you both slumped into the chair together. It was intense and fast, and Secondo isn't as young as he used to be. Sitting in the chair felt a lot nicer than standing up right now.

He rubs his hand over your hips in comfort now, pressing his forehead to yours. "What got you so worked up, cara?"

Your lips press together before you bare your teeth. "I hate your brother. He's such a pain."

Secondo doesn't, not right now at least. Not after this, but he nods solemnly. "I understand, tesoro." He presses a kiss to your forehead, giving you a tender smile. "Let me take you back to our apartments. I'll draw you a nice bath, and you can tell me why you hate him so much. Si?"

Your face softens then, a small smile slowly forming on your lips. "I love you."

He lets his lips match yours, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "And I love you, amore."

[sweatandwoe]

sheppard going to garrus. "hey handsome why dont you calibrate my clothes to be on the floor." "I'm not a tailor... Wait you were flirting with me!"

This gave me a little brain worm

The fight had been brutal. Some geth were still lying on the floor, a few still smoking from the various bullet entry points or when an overload had over-fried their brains. Garrus was panting a little, while the two humans with him were panting and sweating a bit more.

Still, it was Shepard who broke the quiet first, leaning against her assault rifle like it hadn’t cost nearly half a million credits. “So… Was that better than calibrating the main gun, Vakarian?”

Garrus blinked at her. His mandibles tightened to his jaw and twitched as he considered it. “It was certainly more active than working on the mako. And had less algorithms.”

She smiled, her eyes finally lighting up after such a battle. It did odd things to his heart every time, little jolts that would begin deep under his plates and become louder in his neck. “Still angry at that decryption hack?”

“Not angry enough to shoot the lock off. Or maybe that was just human annoyance. I heard it can be a nuisance." Blue eyes glanced to her gun, noticing how it so easily held up the human woman’s weight. Shepard wasn’t small for a human but all humans looked so small in comparison to turians. How they even managed to hold the giant weaponry, he didn’t understand and feared to ask. Dr. Chakwas was wonderfully enthuastic about any subject, but had always met to the most grim and dangerous injuries or diseases with that same enthuasim. “Do you need that calibrated?”

“No.” She said, and then began to smile. That light was quickly turning into heat in the post-battle haze. “My armour could need some help though, if you want to join me in my cabin. You can calibrate it if you're itching for something.”

Garrus paused. And then when he didn’t get it, he sent a look towards Ashley who was glancing up to the cieling with her lips twitching. She sent a glance back to him and went into a full grin seeing the desperate look he sent her.

“Commander, go easy on him.” Ashley said, her fist connecting to her Shepard’s shoulder, the light armour making the blow barely felt. “Turians need the direct approach.”

Now he was even more confused. Was his translator acting up? The turian approached the two smaller human women, but he felt the same size of Shepard’s hamster at that moment. “I know which direction the commander’s cabin is.”

They both laughed, and Garrus would too.

Just two years later.

[sweatandwoe]

it's chicken.

zhongli with a cute waitress that keeps letting him have meals for free cause they get to making googly eyes at him for so long they forget to ask for money

you're too good to me @chickenparm

Warnings: Zhongli x GN!Reader, Fluff, Crushes (it's just very cute), a bit of awkward!Zhongli and awkward!reader, and Chef Mao being a bro

-

"How big is his tab?"

You blink, setting down the dishes you were bringing in. It only takes a moment to follow Mao's gaze and find who he was searching for.

Zhongli.

The handsome man from the funeral parlor, who always seemed to be short on mora.

He's facing away, strolling down the street away from Wanmin restaurant, his hair moving slightly in the wind. Both wrists are crossed over his lower back, hanging just above his hips. You look away when he glances back, almost like he knew someone was watching him. The golden eyes were far too pretty.

Slowly you glance at Mao - he's got an odd spark in his eyes and his lips are twitching. Though he's leaning casually against the counter, close to the serving window. The oven is off and now he's going lax and sated with the day coming to a close.

Your fingers twitch, moving to the sink. "It's zero."

"Zero?" There's a tone, near glee when he speaks. Though Mao is shaking his head when you sneak a glance at him, fingers drumming against the stone counter. He gives a low whistle after a moment. "You've got it that bad, huh?"

You turn on the sink, frowning. "Mao-"

"I'm not judging!" He raises both hands, moving over to sling a washcloth over his shoulder. "But he comes in once a week and never pays, you'd think he'd get the hint."

You frown. It's quite known that Zhongli had been paying for most things with money given by that Fatui leader, or putting it on his tab. He could've paid for it with that other man's money, but he always looked a little off-set when he could only give that. A little out of place, uncomfortable.

So you had simply stopped asking. Not really hoping for anything in return, you just got the benefit of being able to see and talk to him once a week. He was always kind, thoughtful and would go on for ages about all sorts of history when you asked him. And the small loss of one meal a week in your wages was well worth his company in your mind.

When Mao nudges you, you give a shrug and then hand him a bowl to dry. "I don't think he feels that way about me, and I... I just want to be his friend, if nothing else."

There's a quiet that settles between you both as you settle into the rhythm. He doesn't ask about it again that night or the next few days, but there's a spark in his eyes and a slight smirk curling on his lips. Pestering him about it brought nothing, only for him to drop the ball.

"I want you to come in late tomorrow."

You peer at him, as he locks up the restaurant and he's faced away from you. "Late?"

He turns, wiping his hands over his thighs and tucking the key away. "Yeah, I want you here for the dinner rush, I'll pay you the same don't worry about it. Xiangling wants to help with waitressing tomorrow, and you know I can't deny her anything."

That was a lie. Not the denial part, he always spoiled his only child, but Xiangling wanting to help wait tables instead of cooking was a lie. She'd always help out at the restaurant, but her father had always trained her to be more on the culinary side of things.

Still, you don't argue in case maybe he did want some father-daughter time. Xiangling wasn't always in Liyue anymore and she had come home two weeks ago. And besides you were getting paid for it.

Your skin just wouldn't stop prickling with anxiety that he had something planned.

The reason became clear when you show up on the day, only to find Xiangling wearing an apron, already helping customers at the main table and counter while Mao is busy serving up food. It's not too busy, surprisingly. But what is a surprise is a small table you can set up in the back alley, looking over the river.

And at who was sitting at it.

You glance at Mao, who peers at you through the serving window with a wide grin. His eyes crinkle when you begin to sputter.

"I am not going-"

"Oh, yes you are. Your duties tonight are to go have fun. You've earned it." He shoos you when you try to move to the kitchen, to the point of closing the door and calling for Xiangling. "Customer for the back table!"

And she appears with her father's smirk on her face and spear in hand - and you can't really say no now. Marched over to the table, where you can see him. He's staring off into the river, both hands on the table, eyes slightly wide. There was a glaze lily between both hands and he looked far more tense than you had ever seen him.

When you approach, he stands so quickly that his legs hit the table and he's using his geo vision to stabilize it before everything on top wobbles into the river."I'm sorry-"

"It's okay-"

You both pause, staring at one another. Xiangling makes a sound that is quickly silenced, but you're sure it was almost a giggle. She's rushing off to deal with the other customers.

And then you're both left alone.

Zhongli still has both hands on the table, leaning over slightly from where he was standing. After a moment, he takes the glaze lily in hand and gives it a fond look, before turning his gaze on you. "I brought this for you."

"You didn't have to." The words slip from your mouth, but you're moving to accept the gift. Your cheeks are warm, and your palms are sweaty against the stem. "It's beautiful."

His lips part, but he glances away and closes his mouth. Whatever he wanted to say, it makes his cheeks go slightly pink. He moves to untuck your chair, and you sit. Once he joins you, you both settle into the most awkward silence you've encountered on any date before.

Date? Was this even a date?

The silence stretches on, and you're almost certain Mao had told Xiangling to not take your drink orders until you were talking. You slowly set the glaze lily in your lap, not wanting to damage the soft flower. Then you glance at him, not looking at you, his fingers drumming slightly against the table. The pink on his cheeks was still there. He almost seemed anxious but that was because he probably wanted to leave. You don't dare to think of what Mao had said to the poor man.

"Zhongli," he glances up at his name and you pause. His eyes were the shame shade of Mora coins, including the slight shine to them. "I don't know what Mao said to you but, you don't have to be here if you don't want to be."

His fingers settle, and then his shoulders sag a bit. "I'm not here because Chef Mao forced my hand."

You blink, and your own cheeks get a little warm. "Oh."

"He was the one to suggest it," he does admit, folding his fingers together. "I realize, while I had been studying history I had forgotten an important aspect to take in."

"What would that be?"

"Culture." He shifts, and his cheeks go a little darker. "Courting, specifically on how to start to engage in it."

Oh.

Oh.

Your body relaxes, a smile twitching on your lips. "You wanted to ask me out?"

"Yes. But I had no clue how to, I've never courted someone before." He admits with ease. His smile is small, and the crow's feet growing under his eyes stand out a little more from it. "Not many have been interested in seeing me romantically. I'm not used to it." One hand reaches across the table. "But I am interested in you."

Your fingers settle across his own, watching as he lets out a small breath at the touch. "That's good to know. Because I am interested." You pause. "In you, I mean."

"I understand." But the same way you find his awkwardness in this endearing, he seems to feel the same way with you. It's easy then to fall into your familiar rhythm, though he asks more questions about you now, leaning in to catch your every word and asking questions. He makes you snort once and he smiles widely at the noise.

Mao watches you both from the back window, before glancing at his daughter. "How long has it been since you sat them?"

She smiles, eyes twinkling. "An hour."

His face splits into a wide grin. "Knew it. You can go ask them for their drinks now." He smiles to himself watching his daughter skip outside, to get the order. Once she's gone, he lets out a breath, eyeing them out the window.

They had better make her the flower girl when they got married. Of course, Mao would be the best man, because he'd have to guide Zhongli through it. But he wouldn't mind.

Seeing his two lonely friends smiling tenderly at one another, eyes full of joy, is far worth the cost of two meals and some of his time.

[sweatandwoe]

"and for me to do sensory things with cause it creates rainbows when you drag it" is that actually a thing?

yeah

[sweatandwoe]

Don't mind me dropping in for the request. How about a papa absolutely smitten over a chubby sibling like he tries so hard to have a little bit of interaction with them as much as he can but he's also afraid to approach them because they might get spook having papa (who is always flocked by siblings) approach them and choosing to talk to them voluntarily

this could be angst if you squint enough

Birb you know I can't deny you, went with Copia for this one

Copia x Chubby!Reader - Anxiety, Slight Angst, Fluff, Copia is horribly smitten, Reader is a little shy/low self-esteem

-

He's old. Copia isn't one to sugarcoat it. He can laugh, he can pretend, but he can see how quickly his hair is going grey. Can feel the aches lingering in his joints more than he used to. The bags growing under his eyes seem to settle there now, no matter how much he preens himself.

But whenever he sees you, he doesn't feel quite as old as he should. Flustered. Like a teen with his first crush.

The worst part is: he knows you feel the same.

He's seen you. Copia isn't blind, he isn't old enough to lose his sight fully yet (though he knows he'll probably need some reading glasses soon enough). The shy way you hold yourself whenever he approaches, especially if he advances towards you with a group of admiring siblings on his heels.

Always so shy. But it was rather adorable.

At first, he thought, it may have just been the group. Though it was more easily expressed when others were around him found that you were always shy around him. Small little smiles, accompanied by small little acts of kindness.

When he returned them, you'd smile, try to hide yourself away. Pressing your clothes down with your fingers, as though trying to flatten yourself out. It made him want to throw his arms around your waist, to kiss every part you considered a flaw until you couldn't speak badly of any of it. Until you recognized how beautiful you were - always.

It made him feel happy in a small way, that you got the same butterflies he did when you saw one another. Even if you didn't know it.

But today, he's decided. He will ensure that his feelings are known - before he's too old and loses his chance. Or his nerve.

You are in the halls when he finds you. Glancing over him, and smiling more warmly when you realize he's alone. It has him beaming, as he greets you. "Tesoro." He holds out his hand. "May I borrow you for a moment?"

Your eyes crinkle when you smile now. It has his heart racing, maybe skipping a beat as you slide your fingers into his gloved hand. "Of course, Papa."

He might already love you, he thinks, drawing you further down the hall. Copia hasn't even kissed you yet, but he thinks it will be the best kiss he's ever gotten. Your hands are warm, and you look horribly sweet.

Papa Emeritus the fourth would devour you if you let him. Not just your body, but your heart too. Let it become one with his body, so if it ever hurt he'd know.

"Please," He whispers, bringing you close as he leads you into his empty office. Enjoying how you smile more fully in the quiet perfection that was a room with just the two of you. The older man presses a delicate kiss to the back of your hand, letting his lips brush over your knuckles. "Call me Copia."

[sweatandwoe]

90. “don’t fucking touch what is not yours” with Terzo pls 😶

Heheheheheheheh, reader is gender neutral

-

"You know," The man starts, eyes bloodshot and voice thick with booze. "If I could rearrange the alphabet together, I'd put U and I together." 

Your smile is half-baked and tight. "I'd put F and U together personally." You glance over his shoulder, trying to see where your date was. 

The man laughs and then it cuts off. He frowns. "Hey, wait a minute." One large hand grabs hold of your waist, squeezing tight enough that you can't slip away. "What makes you think you can say that to me, dollface?" 

You open your mouth but there's a figure rushing up to you that have you closing your lips in a smug smirk. Mismatched eyes are both dark, even with the bright, flashing lights of the bar. His face is unpainted, you can truly see the anger and excitement that morphs his features. Terzo is shorter than the man harassing you currently but he always had the presence of a man far larger. Gloved fingers take the wrist of the man's hand where he held yours, and purple sparkly nails dug into his skin when he squeezed far harder.

"Ow, man! What the fuck?" The man lets go staring at Terzo with wide watery eyes then narrowing. "Do you wanna take this outside, buddy?" 

"I would love to."  Terzo grins and the man shrinks. His arm slides around your waist, helping you out of your seat. There's a burn in his gaze, staring at the man once more. "Don't fucking touch what's not yours." It's a hiss between teeth and you're being escorted out of the bar at high speeds. 

Your smirk is still smug. It was easy to tell how worked up he got from just a few moments. 

"I'm yours now, huh." You purse your lips together, thinking it over. "Not sure how I feel about that, it might've been better if I had been asked first-" 

Lips crash into your own, one hand snaking into your hair. Tugging gently, until his fingers move to cup the back of your neck. Your own fingers move to tug at the band shirt he was wearing. He pulls back, a line of spit connecting your lips. "How should I ask then, amore?" His hips grind against your own, holding you in place. "Should I ask with my fingers?" They brush over your hips, circling them. "With my tongue?" He traces the top of it against your throat before the next words come with a puff of hot air against your neck. "With my cock?" 

"Terzo." Whining his name gets you nowhere, and he chuckles against your ear. 

“Get in the backseat for me, Tesoro.” His breath is warm against your ear. His hands moving past your hips to rub over your ass next.“Let me decide for you.”

[sweatandwoe]

i can definitely see Astarion working at Starbucks, but consider: thrift shop employee Astarion. (particularly picturing smth like thrift shops in Paris; a little nook in an old building, dimly lit, decorated with antiques and art and playing music from old CDs and vinyls...)

chats up the regulars, knows everything that's going on in the city (especially the gossip) and has been known to discount items on a whim for customers he found entertaining. dunno if i'm making any sense

Anon anon anon

You're so right but consider

Astarion owning an antique book store

Astarion reading the necromancy of thay casually, loves to read anything occult for some reason and carries those books mainly. Enjoys chatting with regulars and figuring out what books they like. Eats people that try to damage books or steal pages. Has a tendency to let someone borrow a book if you're confident or pathetic enough when asking. Maybe wears some like half-moon glasses, doesn't need them to read but just for the look. Insults customers lovingly, hires no one else cause the shop is never busy. Somehow never runs out of money but if you ask, he brushes it off and rubs the back of his neck. Sometimes someone will be in the shop in him, who he'll call his sibling but they only have matching eyes and they're discussing their "father's" property since he died. Keeps pretty knifes in prettier displays around the shop, but keeps the sharpest one on his person. Buys old books and treats damaged books very gently. Gives a discount if you make him laugh his real laugh.

I am having too many thoughts