Daddys Smart And Youre The Prettiest Lady In The Whole Wide World ...

daddy’s smart and you’re the prettiest lady in the whole wide world ... 💜

Can you maybe write something with a Chubby Virgin reader that is really insecure about her body and nervous about losing her v-card? It can be with anyone you want, no pressure :D

CW: chubby fem reader, vague male character, smut

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He's laughing. You just told him your insecurities and he's laughing.

"I'm sorry," he chuckles, covering his mouth before rubbing his forehead. "I just can't believe it."

"What?" you ask breathlessly, certain that you'll cry within the next minute if he doesn't explain himself.

"Baby, look," he says, grabbing your hand, "I understand that you're nervous about having sex for the first time, and I'm never gonna force you to go forward with it if you're not ready, but you can't seriously feel that way about your body... right?" Your lip is wobbling by now.

"But I do! I do feel that way, and the fact that you're laughing—"

He shushes you gently, grabbing your other hand as well, giving both of them a squeeze.

"Don't. Don't be like that. I would never make fun of you for how you feel. It's just... I can't fathom how someone like you can feel so insecure about your body." You blink back your tears.

"What do you mean?" He huffs a laugh, pulling away before rubbing the back of his neck.

"You really want me to say it?" You don't respond. He eyes you for a moment, before sighing and leaning towards you. "Baby... I have wanted to fuck you since the moment I first saw you. You have no idea how sexy I find you. Your tits, your tummy, your ass, Jesus, don't even get me started on your thighs. Every inch of you is just so fucking tempting.

"Do you have any idea how many times I've jerked off thinking about you, how many times I've fantasized about having you beneath me, feeling your body against mine? Do you not realize what you do to me? Every little thing you do makes me chub up. The way you walk and talk and eat and laugh and act just sends me spiraling. I've never wanted a woman so bad in my entire life. The reason I don't pounce on you every chance I get is because I don't know if you're ready for it yet.

"But when you're finally ready? When you ask me to fuck you? Shit, I'm not holding back. I'm gonna go hog-wild on you. Gonna bend you all types of ways and fuck you so good. Gonna eat that pretty pussy till you're sobbing. Ain't nothing gonna stop me from making you cream and squirt all over my cock. And once I'm done ravishing you, I'm gonna cum deep inside you. Gonna make you all mine. Nobody's gonna make you feel as good as I do, ya understand?"

You stare at him, speechless. He swallows, clearing his throat and glancing away.

"But... yeah. That's how I feel about you."

Silence fills the room, weighing heavy on the both of you. He's about to apologize when you gently trace his wrist.

"Baby?"

He takes a deep breath.

"Yeah?"

You pause, looking up at him, soft and sweet.

"I think I'm ready."

He blinks, eyebrows raising.

"You sure? Because once I start, it's gonna be real hard for me to stop." You nod.

"Yeah. I'm ready. I want it."

His lips spread into a cocky grin and his hands find your waist.

"Shit, say less. I got you, baby girl."

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No Mercy (part 2)

Part 1

Warnings: 18+, mdni, public sex, not proofread, around 850 words

"Please! Miguel... aaaaah please! I'm sorrysorrysorry SORRYY!"

In this moment she knew, she fucked up. She has crossed the line and has to pay for it now.

She once again came to Miguel's work space to tease and have some sexy time with him. Completely ignoring his last warning.

She thought he wouldn't do it right? He's too possessive to show her off like this right? Miguel was only joking RIGHT?

But no... he was completely serious.

He has no mercy for her pathetic begging, instead he tightens his grip on her open spread legs, biting harder onto her left shoulder from behind and continues to abuse her already overstimulated pussy.

Everybody is watching, some try to hide their gaze and others open their eyes in wide shock. Some even run out of the lobby, escaping the scene. And nobody dare to hold eye contact with her nor him.

Nobody could believe the scene before them. Their leader fucking his girlfriend in front of them? The same one who would get all pissed when somebody else than him holds a long conversation with her.

He has ripped off her shirt so that her boobs can freely bounce up and down, her face turned to them as Miguel stands behind and holds her up so that she has nowhere to run or hide. Her pussy wide spread by his thick dick for everybody to see.

"Miguel! Baby! Please nghhh I'm sorry please forgive me I'll be good I promise pleasee"

Nothing seems to help. He keeps ignoring her begging. He muffles his grunting and huffing against her shoulder while fucking her without any mercy. Her shoulder getting covered in his spit.

He knows she enjoys it. She is the type of woman to act all innocent but then do a complete 180° turn and it was only a matter of time when this would happen. Plus, he had warned her about this.

Even though he hates that everybody can see this side of her, which should be only for his eyes. He can't help but feel his chest swell with pride by the envious and jealous looks. Miguel knows that his girlfriend is hot and she definitely knows it too which led to this situation.

He never felt her this wet or heard her this loud and he fucking love her desperate babbling. Surely, he could cum this minute but he wants to deliver a good performance.

Miguel especially wants to teach her a lesson. A lesson she better not forgets because he actually takes his job as the protector of the spider verse very serious but he can't help but give in whenever his needy little slut comes around to tease him.

How could he not? When she comes in with these skimpy and revealing clothes? When she dolls herself up with pretty makeup and cute hair styles? Only for him to ruin it. The way she would hide her intentions by saying that she dropped by only to bring him lunch.

"Oh fuckfuckfuck! Miguel! Nghhh I'm close! Can I? Can I cum? Please!"

But before he could even release her shoulder and say anything. She starts squirting on his dick, rolling her eyes back, arching her back, letting her head fall back on his shoulder and a high-pitched moan leaves her mouth.

The sensation of her walls tightening is enough for Miguel to release his nut inside her. His cum starts pumping her pussy to the brim. Gasping from her overwhelming orgasm, she looks up at the ceiling trying to calm down.

The sight is so surreal for the other spider-men/women. It’s like their looking at a unique art piece which portrays the raw human love between humans.

Both have flushed cheeks, are breathing heavy, closed eyes and some strands of their hair is sticking to their forehead.

After calming down, Miguel slowly slide his cock out of her, making her whimper as his cum starts to spill out.

Nobody dares to say anything. It's too quiet, except for the small whimpers of his fucked-out girlfriend.

"Lyla! Clean this mess up!" Miguel yells, sending shivers to everybody who hears it and the AI already has some bots cleaning up the floor.

He then throws her on his shoulder. Naked plump ass on full display. Before walking her into his office he gives her a harsh spank to demonstrate that she is his to use even if he just fucked her in front of everyone.

Arrived at the office, he throws her onto his chair. His expression tells her that he is still pissed off of her behavior.

"I'm sorry I didn't think you'd actually go through with your warning... but I kind of like it" she confesses with a smug smirk, just loving the way she can rile up her man.

Sighing he puts his hands on his waist, tsking and shaking his head.

"Que problemática. What should I do with you? Puta loca siempre molestando mi trabajo"

Giggling at him, she puts her hands on his lower abdomen and lean into him, looking up at him with doe eyes.

"Keeping me here? Like a little pet? So that I never have to miss you again. What do you say papi?" She whispers in a sickly-sweet voice.

And Miguel might consider it...

🕸🕷

Que problemática = how troublesome

puta loca siempre molestando mi trabajo = crazy whore always disturbing my work

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wuaaaa my first time to make a second part of my oneshot, hope you like it my friend and remember reposts are always appreciated <3

Fated Mates Part 7

Synopsis: you, a vengeful vampire slayer, cross paths with the devious and handsome Astarion. Instead of a stake through the heart, Astarion finds something he thought impossible for vampire spawn. A mate.

Your party moves from the large campsite into the town on your path to the Selunite Temples. Astarion and you search for a cure and find a tether between your minds that begs for more interesting games to be played between you two.

Breathes mingle in the hot air as tension wraps around Astarion and you, thick as rope. You could practically drink in the arousal surrounding the two of you. It coils and snaps in the air as if beckoning the both of you to take it further, to finish what was left undone back in that tavern room. A shaking hand snakes up and wraps around Astarions neck, curling into his soft silver hair. You pull him impossibly closer as your lips just barely brush over one anothers. His red eyes never leave yours as he watches you absolutely enchanted. It's as if the earth is swallowing him whole and his only salvation is to fall into you. Tadpoles or masters be damned, you would be his destruction. The very fibers of his being rewritten to etch your name for forever more. You lean in closer, nose brushing the side of his own. You hold your breath, daring him to take the next step. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire. A flame broiling in your loins and licking its fire to each of your limbs. All you can think, all you can see, all you can feel is Astarion. Your thoughts are nothing if not primitive. Ever since you had drunk that elixir your only thoughts seemed wrapped in Astarion. Missing and aching for his presence the moment you two were apart. You would never admit to how desperate you are. How absolutely needy for him you are. Your other hand reaches up and clicks apart the buttons shielding Astarion’s naked flesh from your own. Your hand flows from his collarbone down, slipping down to his abdomen. He lets out a shuttered breath at your touch.

“Astarion.” You whisper into his lips. He lets out a groan and finally makes contact with your kiss. Your lips mold over one another as if made to perfectly slot over one each others. His arms roll under your body. He pushes his palms up to press your frame to his while his other hand cradles your head. You moan into the kiss as the flame in you grows hotter and hotter. He takes it as an invitation and dives into your mouth. His tongue intertwines with yours in a passionate dance. Though it only lasts for a moment before he whips his head back and away from you. You blink in surprise, already grabbing for him to return to you. You swear you won’t breathe if he stops touching you. You give out a needy whine as you paw at him. He ignores it and brings his fingers up to his lips as if to study them.

“The hells were you drinking before I found you?” He asks, clearly irritated. You rub your thighs together in need of friction and grab at his shoulders. He doesn’t budge at all and awaits your answer. You huff and cry.

“I don’t know! Some ambrosia or something an orc bartender had given me! Why does it matter? Keep kissing me!” You launch yourself up and towards him. He takes you by the upper arms to hold you still.

“Ambrosia?! Do you have any idea what that is?” His irritation only skyrocketing. You just shrug your shoulders, feeling sheepish that you hadn’t even thought to question it. You had wanted to forget, whatever concoction got you there would do.

“Gods (y/n)! That- It’s a lust potion! No wonder you’re throwing yourself all over me.” The hurt buried deep in the elf’s feelings could be heard in his last words. You struggled to find the right words to say to him. You knew deep down that this started way before you put your lips to that honeyed concoction. Hells, even before the night you shared a room. The moment your eyes had met his you felt as if there was some force driving you towards him. You kept lying to yourself that it was for the fact he knew your greatest enemy. That you had finally found that stepping stone to reach your goals. But under all the hurt you had been witness to and the hate of vampires you had grown to wield as a weapon, you found yourself enjoying his company. Enjoying him. The way you became comfortable around him nearly instantaneously. How you could banter with eachother as if you were old friends. That even though it was an enormously big oversight to trust him, you gave it willingly. But to say all that, to let your guard down, especially to someone that was vampire made, made your throat clam up. As if the words got lodged in your throat and you would choke before you could allow yourself to be vulnerable. Astarion watches the anguish and confusion morph on your face and he lets the embers of his rage die down. It wasn’t your fault for this. As much as he wanted to take you here and now, to complete this bond even if you had no idea of it, he wanted it done when you are of clear mind and body. He watches as a tear wells up in the corner of your eye and cascade down your cheek. He lifts a finger to wipe it from your face.

“Come to me when you are sober. When you make a choice and decide to cross that bridge.” He whispers into your skin as he gives a gentle kiss to your forehead. He braces himself against his knees and pushes off to stand. He turns and begins to make his way out of the tent. You latch onto his wrist without a thought.

“Wait! Where are you going?” You ask, frightful to have him leave your side. He gives a chuckle.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I was starving. Off to find dinner.” He explains. You tighten your grip on him.

“Who’s to say dinner isn’t right here?” You grin, lighting the mood. He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“As much as I love to hear you ask and beg for me, I won’t take when you are so clearly… inebriated.” He chooses his words carefully. You can’t help the groan of frustration. This is the time this ass of a vampire decides to be gentlemanly?

“I wish- I wish there was a way you could know what I’m saying is truthful. That this is me and not some elixir.” You grit your teeth. You slam your palm to your head in frustration and it’s then you feel it. A swimming in your mind. A pulsing ache right behind your eyes. Just as you feel it the bond of thought between you and Astarion through your tadpoles opens like a floodgate. Your want of his company, the desire for his bite and the truth in it goes from your mind to his. It flashes in Astarions mind like fireworks. Startled, you look up to Astarion for confirmation that that had truly just happened. He looks just as confused as you are. He goes to kneel next to you.

“Do it again!” He asks feverishly. You shake your head in confusion and lift your hands.

“I- I- I don’t know how I did that!” You stammer. His hands grab yours as if to cement yourself to him, to open up to him once more.

“Come on do whatever the hells you did that time.” He insists. You scowl at him.

“I told you I don’t bloody know what I did! I had slapped my forehead and then- poof!” You try to explain. Without even a second passing Astarion taps harshly on your forehead.

“Alright now do it!” He urges. You bite your teeth at him, rubbing your forehead at the red mark he created.

“I said I don’t-“ you begin but the rest of your words travel from your mind to his. Don’t know you damned idiot!

You learn to talk into my mind and it’s to insult me. Fitting. Astarion can’t help the grin plastered on his face as he responds back into your mind. You lightly punch his shoulder and laugh. He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“Well you went to all this trouble to beg me to bite you, may I?” He asks, his teeth already poses to strike.

“I did not beg!” You turn your head in offering to him. He only chuckles at your antics before his lips find your neck. His hand comes up to caress the side of your face. He gives a soft kiss into the nape of your neck. His tongue licks flat on your skin sending tingles up your spine. At your sharp intake of breath he strikes. His teeth burrow deep into you as he suckles on your blood. Just as before, you feel sharp ice flood your system. Shock fills your body and your nails dig into the pillows beneath you. Soon enough the icy feeling leaves your body and warmth and comfort takes its place. His body weighs onto yours and pushes you back into the pillows. His other arm wraps around your middle and pulls your body close. Your head swims and stars twinkle in your vision. You fall into his embrace and find only comfort and belonging.

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The next morning you wake with a dull ache taking your body captive. You can feel a pulsing headache nothing to do with the tadpole and everything to do with drinking far too much the day before. Thankfully your memory is intact and you can't help but feel a bit of shame at how strongly you had come onto Astarion. But as they say, drunk actions are sober thoughts. You turn in your cocoon of pillows to see Astarion as he faces away from you. He is peacefully meditating, breathing slow and relaxed. You admire him in how vulnerable he looks. How soft he looks relaxed in the early morning sun flittering through the tent. Your eyes turn onto the scars lining his back. Without thinking you reach a hand out to trace the scaring circulating his back. On instinct Astarion flinches and draws away. You shoot your hand away and tumble out apologizes to him.

“Sorry! I just, well I was curious about your scars.” You try to remedy. Astarion wipes the deep mediation from his eyes. He turns to face you as he stretches his tired limbs.

“It’s a gift from my old master Cazador. A poem he carved into my skin in one night, with lots of revisions.” You silently ask for permission and after a moment he nods slightly. You gently take your hand and trace once again around the marks. Anger flames at the thought Cazador abusing and harming Astarion. He slaughters your family, abuses his spawns, sketches into their backs, he deserves more than death.

“I can’t wait to see what you give to him in return.” You can’t hide the venom in your words. Astarion chuckles and turns over towards you.

“You wouldn’t try to stop me?” He asks. You give him a confused look.

“I’d encourage it.” You reply.

“And to think, I thought you were the hero type.” You groan and roll your eyes.

“Not in that instance. Not if it’s harm to someone I care about.” His eyes perk up.

“Care? I think that elixir must still be in your system.” He may come off as joking but you get the sense that that is what he truly believes. You lift yourself up enough to rest your head on your hand.

“No, but I would love to show you all the ideas it gave me.” You give a devilish grin. Before Astarion can give some quick witted response you send images through the mind bond. You show him the thoughts that ran ragged through your mind last night. Of his hands tangled in your hair and pulling your head back for him to ravage your neck. Or of his skilled tongue following a path down your navel and into the dip of your hips. His hands squeezing and kneading your plush thighs. Images of bite marks and love bites trailing up your thigh and towards your most needy spot. The image of you bent across the wooden table in his tent with him filing you to the brim is the last image you get across before Astarion growls.

“You, my love, are playing a dangerous game.” His voice is hot with need, barely civil as his words come out nearly feral.

“Well it is my favorite game to play.” You smirk with a wink. Before you can pounce on one another there’s a loud crunch of boots outside the tent.

“Oi! Come on, places to be!” Karlach yells at you both from outside the tent. She quickly marches off you assumed to rally the others.

“Seems you’ll have to have those images keep you company blood sucker.” You jest as you get up. He gives a few tsks your way before he turns and opens a trunk to change. He tosses a few things aside, one among them is that gaudy smut novel with the overly romantic cover. You’re almost curious enough to reach for it to see what romantic novel Astarion would bother reading. But alas you hear Karlach once again yell for you to get moving. You make way towards your tent to get ready for the day.

-

You and the rest of your group had made it back on the road in record time. There would be some time before you hit the next town on your tour towards Selunite temple. You had been taking the time walking to try to sort out your feelings. To get your mind back on the task at hand, tadpoles then Cazador. You were deep in thought as Gale jogs up to you and keeps pace. You don’t notice his presence till he clears his throat. Startled, you look up at him.

“Oh Gale! Sorry, I wasn’t even paying attention.” You apologize.

“I noticed. I was just about to ask you what had you so wrapped up in thought.” He gives an easy smile, all ears. You wish you had someone to confess all your mixed feelings to. How these tadpoles had completely rearranged your life. How Cazador was now the closest to your revenge than he ever has been. Yet, you weren’t following that lead now that you needed a cure. How you think you actually developed feelings for a vampire, a species you swore to cut down. One you have hunted with efficiency for some time. And all it took was one flirty and murderous one to change your whole perspective. As much as you think Gale could understand to a degree, his fling with a goddess definitely holds a candle to your plight, you didn’t want everyone to know anymore of your business. So you go for the easy answer.

“Honestly I guess it’s just catching up to me how strange and time sensitive my life has become with these damned tadpoles. I thought my goals and road in life were clear cut. But now, I don’t know if I’ll get to fulfill those or I’ll wake a mind flayer. I just thought by now I would be getting closer to getting my family their revenge, not farther.” You sigh. It felt good to get some of the weight off your shoulders.

“You carry all this burden, all by yourself. Your tense, that much is easy to see even if you said nothing. I thought maybe, if it’s alright with you, I could add a bit of a magical touch?” He asks. You look over at him with a quirked eyebrow.

“This isn’t the part where you accidentally turn me into a toad or something, is it?” You ask deadpanned. Gale let’s out a hearty laugh.

“I promise, no toad making.” He gives out his pinky to you to intertwine in promise. You can’t help but laugh at his innocent actions and give him your pinky in return.

Your little “charade” with Gale was starting to turn rotten in Astarions stomach. He demanded himself to not be jealous. He wasn’t. Not in the slightest. He just so happen to find Gale extremely annoying at the current moment. Seducing you, befriending you, was his ploy not Gales. He can find another radiant and beautiful woman to try that on. Gale had his goddess, Astarion had his and he was intruding on her.

Gale focuses in on his magic and webs together The Weave of magic at his fingertips gently. You watch in awe as you walk a bit slower next to him. He takes the ball of purple lighted magic and drapes it over your shoulders. Instantly you feel a hum of warmth and comfort bleed into your shoulders and neck. You let out a sigh of relief, the tension in your shoulders subsiding as the magic winds into your tough muscles.

“Gods that actually feels amazing~ Gale.” You praise him as you nearly close your eyes in the enjoyment of the massaging.

“Maybe I’ll just be a masseuse after all this.” He jokes.

“I’ll be your most well paying customer.” You smile, relaxing into its touch.

Well now that was entirely too much. Astarion was all for sexual exploits. Gods know he’s done his fair share of whats in lots of different wheres. But this. This was different! He wasn’t exactly sure how it was different but the way his blood turned to ice he felt it was different. You should be paying him that attention. He should be the one to make you feel good. Not Gale. Just then, a sneak idea comes to Astarion. Keep his outer appearance nonchalant, he opens the channel between both of your minds. It doesn’t seem that you notice. Enjoying idle chit chat with Gale as the magic rolls off in purple puffs down your shoulders. He nearly can’t help the carnivorous smile that slips into his lips. Slowly, he feeds you images of you beneath him the night prior. Of you begging and whining for his touch. Images of his hands trailing down your sides raising every goosebump along its way. He can tell you take notice in the way you nearly trip. Your head whips around to look at him but he just focuses on his nails in a devil may care attitude.

You bit your lip nearly ready to yell at Astarion for the sinful images he sends your way. But as you look he acts coy. As if there isn’t a rising sexual tension growing between your minds. If he was going to act like it doesn't affect him, then you would do the same. You turn back round to Gale and ask him questions on his magic background. Gale is a mess of word vomit, excited to tell his tales to someone that will listen. Astarion immediately picks up on the game you are playing. Once again he creates images of pure carnal lust. Of him playing with your wet folds, slicking his fingers slowly mapping you out. His fingers dance around your clit as it sends shocks of need down your entire body. You can’t help but let out a soft choked moan in real life. You slap your hand over your mouth in shock. Astarion let’s out a low snicker at your sounds.

“You alright?” Gale asks. You give him your best smile, trying to hide the warmth spreading over you.

“Oh yeah yeah. Just you know, enjoying this massage and company.” Gale smiles at your answer as he clamps his hand over your shoulder. He gives it a squeeze.

“I enjoy your company too.” Astarion might actually bite Gale if says even one more word. If he touches you one more time he will murder this magician. Images fly out of Astarions mind to yours of him pressing into your shoulder blades with the heel of his palm. Your face down in the bedroll as he takes you from behind. Your arms flailing forward desperate for something to latch onto. He gives you no adjustment, no coddling, no slow movements. He fucks into you hard and fast, his other hand giving your ass a slap that leaves welts of his palm ingrained into your skin. Just as you feel the images combined ecstasies come forth, Astarion leans over and bites into your shoulder in the image.

You yelp, going frigid on the walkway. Everyone else stops too, looking around as if ready for battle.

“What is it, (y/n)?” Astarion asks, a smile that rivals the Cheshire Cat. You glare daggers at him. Though it is hard to be angry with the need and hunger crashing in your loins. Everyone looks to you for your answer.

“Oh just an annoying rock in my shoe, come on we are just about into town!” You hurry forward, as if to outrun the thoughts that had flooded into your mind. This town was much larger than the previous. There were lots of different sectors, underground dens, and temples all across the area. Once again you all decide to meet in the city square when dusk approaches so you could all go set camp together. The rest of the time spent was for everyone to go do what they wanted. Though it was an unvoiced agreement that the time should be spent looking into different avenues for a cure. You decided to look into the temples on the other side of town. There were a few churches within the city. A couple of temples scattered as well. But the temples a few miles from the city were what intrigued you. There was talk that there was old scripture and tomes hidden somewhere in the ruins of the temples. If you could find these ancient texts maybe there would be something in them to help you all. You made your way into the dilapidated ruins before you came to the mouth of the opening. Old wooden doors barded you from entering. The lock looked ancient and it was magically sealed from the use of magic or violence to break it. You were not skilled in lockpicking whatsoever. Most of your skills came from combat or magic. You stare at the door trying to render out an idea before a cold hand comes to rest on the top of your head. You don’t need to turn to know who it is.

“Here to play more games, blood sucker?” You ask. His hand leaves your head as he walks towards the door to inspect it.

“Just thought you could use my help, and company, little killer.” He responds. He reaches for his lockpicking kit he keeps on him at all times and goes to work. The lock is tricky, a lot more to it than the modern day locks. But after a few minutes you hear the familiar pop of a lock coming undone. You can’t help the shocked look you give him.

“I’m wounded you forget my many talents dear. There is far more than bedroom talents to me.” You roll your eyes at him.

“A talent I have yet to see.” You wave off backhandedly. You walk forward into the temple. The inside is much like the outside. Pillars toppled over, old candles with wax clinging to surfaces all over. Sigils and paintings are scattered across the walls. Depictions of epic fights and of families and lovers. Images of archaic weddings and celebrations. The place is covered in cobwebs with puddles of old rusty water in several places. The front door doesn’t give much light so you cast a fire spell onto all the candles nearby in a radius. Astarion saunters over to your side.

“A talent you are more than welcome to indulge in, just say the word.” He teases. The both of you walk through more of the rooms in the temple. Many times you have to use magic to move old statues or pillars out of your way. Or needing to clear a walkway of abandoned desks or bookcases.

“I tried to just the other night and I was turned away. Must not be that much talent if you're scared to share it.” You bite back. Sparks shoot up inside of Astarion at your words. People can say many things about him, blood sucker, murderer, psychopath, but heavens they could not say a bad lover!

“Maybe it’s that you aren’t ready to experience such euphoria.” Astarion strikes back at you. You busy yourself with undoing traps in a back room as he lockpicks a gate to an underground cellar. You light a ball of flame in your hand as you both walk down the spiral stone steps.

“Have you ever thought that maybe you aren’t ready to experience mine?” You ask. As you come to the bottom of the stone steps a door with a magical symbol guards the final room. You inspect the magic and recognize it from your studies in your fathers libraries. It’s quite old, but thankfully not unknown to you. You cast the spell it looks for and it opens it’s rickety doors to you. Inside is the library you searched for. Walls covered in bookshelves of long forgotten texts. A large stone desk built into the floor stands in the middle. Old wooden chairs with torn pillows sit on each side of it. There are candelabras and candles all over the room. You once again light them as you make your way inside. You cross the room over to the table to examine the sole book left there; opened as if someone was in the midst of reading before this place fell. Astarion walks over to you and places both hands on either side of you and onto the table. He closes the space between your bodies. Your back to his chest, shared breath and warmth. Your heart lurches as you wait for his response. He pulls his lips closer to your ear, his breath tickling the back of your neck.

“I would very, very, much like to experience you. Say the word, and you are mine.” He whispers. Once again that familiar all suffocating feeling returns. The tension rose once more. Your hands enclose over his own. You lean your head back onto his shoulder and look back and over at him. Your eyes meet and there is shared hunger in both of your eyes. You lick your lips before you answer him.

“Take me, Astarion.” You can barely let out. His grip tightens on your own. Carnal lust, and maybe something more, perfuming the halls of the forgotten Aphrodite temple.

Part six here

Part eight coming!

I promise actual smut the next chapter, I’ll stop edging y’all

My new "it is what it is" motto

Badboy!miguel x nerdygirl reader

Where like badboy!miguel has an interest into this one specific nerd (which is reader) always trying get her attention,doing anything to impress her,even when she clearly doesn't want to deal with him, and that just get miguel to play harder,until one day he saw reader laughing and smile hard while blushing mess with an boy,causing anger to boil inside of him,veins popping but he doesn't show it,he wait until the end of the day and beat the hell of the boy, and grabing reader an pinned her down to an wall dealing her with his large body, this makes her scared and feel small she never saw him so angry before.

You could put nfsw if you'll like

Oh boy the one everyone’s craving… that’s a lot of pressure haha

Head Over Heels

(Badboy!Miguel x Nerdy!F!Reader)

CW: NSFW, yandere type shit, beating, too big, college, dirty talk in Spanish (all characters are well over 18)

Random note: I know you didn’t say it specifically but “Badboy” and “nerdy” makes me think school so college? Yeah idk sorry-

Miguel O’Hara watched as you walked through the courtyard. He loved to watch your skirt bounce, the pleated fabric swaying as you so elegantly made your way across campus. There were practically hearts in his eyes as his gaze never left your gorgeous form. You never noticed him of course. Part of him wished you would. But the other part was happy with his little secret. Stalking was such an ugly word, but how else would one define his actions?

[I wanted to be with you alone And talk about the weather But traditions I can trace against the child in your face Won't escape my attention]

There were times he did try, tried to get you to even look at him. Those weeks he felt particularly desperate. His throat was dry, skin warm to the touch. It was as if he were sent into a heat. Those days he couldn’t stay away, couldn’t stay in the bushes watching silently. Miguel would get close to you, enough to brush against you and take in the sweet scent of your shampoo.

[You keep your distance via the system of touch And gentle persuasion I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much? Oh, you're wasting my time You're just, just, just wasting time]

“Oh- sorry!” You looked up at him, apologizing for bumping into his arm. You hadn’t known at the time it was on purpose.

His face flushed as he looked down at you, your voice sent shocks through his body. “It… it’s alright.” He managed to mutter as you walked away, having seen your friends approaching.

That one encounter played in his mind on repeat over and over again. The one time you had spoken to him. You were so sweet, so kind to him, it made his dick twitch in his pants. Your voice was like music to his ears, he couldn’t get enough of it. Until then he had been content just watching you from affair. Now, he needs to hear you. He needs to hear that angelic voice.

[Something happens and I'm head over heels I never find out until I'm head over heels Something happens and I'm head over heels Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart Don't, don't, don't throw it away]

It soon developed into Miguel not being so hidden. After months of stalking, he finally started making real moves. He liked bringing you gifts, offering you rides places, offering to help with your assignments. You accepted, of course, who wouldn’t accept such kind gestures. He seemed like a lovely friend. You thought that’s all it was, a new friendship blooming, and that he was just a generous man. You thanked him many times, and he’d always respond with something about it being no big deal, and that he just likes seeing you smile.

His response was bullshit. It was a big deal. It was a huge deal to him. Every tiny action was important to him. Hearing you call him a friend, a pal, a buddy… It drove him mad. He wanted you to want him. He needed you to need him. He needed you, needed your body, your voice, your touch… He would do anything. No matter how obvious he made it, you never caught on. Perhaps you did and were just playing hard to get. He wasn’t sure. But either way, he hated it.

Miguel brought you flowers, chocolates, made valentines day such a big deal. He even called your little get togethers “dates”. He got no response, which made him more desperate. This you caught onto and started to irritate you. You loved Miguel dearly, but only as a friend. He never seemed to get that. He just wasn’t your type. He’s the leather-jacket-motorcycle-riding-cigarette-smoking “bad boy” of the university. You’d much rather stay in your dorm reading a nice book or finishing up your assignments. Not galivanting around town on a bike that is super dangerous while smoking which is also super dangerous and scaring the weaker students.

You hoped one day he’d move on, and even tried to set him up with one of your friends. She seemed much more his style, “goth” as you called it. She was much more punk than “goth” but didn’t care enough to correct your misunderstanding. They seemed to get along well. They hung out a few times, and she started to look forward to seeing him. You thought maybe he finally would move on, and so could you. She would always call you to talk about how much fun they had, how he took her for late night drives on his bike and such.

Even with this new friend he had, Miguel still wanted you. His persistence never let up; he still wanted you. So, when he saw you in the courtyard with a handsome fellow, his arm draped around your shoulders, he was filled with rage. An intense fury filled him, fiery passion burned within as he watched you. Someone was touching his girl. He couldn’t stand that.

The longer he watched, the angrier he became. Who did this guy think he was? He didn’t deserve you, he didn’t deserve to see that smile, to hear your angelic laugh. You giggled at whatever this dickhead was telling you. Miguel scoffed to himself. What could he say that earned a laugh from you? No one knew you like he did. He certainly wouldn’t let this dick get away with this. Miguel wouldn’t- no, couldn’t let him get away with being so handsy, so touchy so… affectionate with his girl.

You blushed as this man talked to you, his voice so smooth and sultry. Miguel hated it. He hated seeing another man make your cheeks flush. He wanted that to be him. He would make sure it was him, no one else. No one else could even look at you, touch you, make you feel oh so good like he could. You didn’t know it yet, but no one would be as good to you as Miguel. Only Miguel. He needed to do something.

That night, he followed your new boytoy back to the men’s dorms. Miguel Stalked behind this man for a good ten minutes before pulling him down an unlit hallway, covering his mouth with a large hand to hide any screams. He struggled and strained against Miguel but was helpless in that tight grip. Miguel pushed him to the ground and started kicking him repeatedly, saying things about you being his and only his. He repeated phrases about not going near you again, never speaking to you again, not even looking at you or passing you in the hallway. You belonged to him.

After the attack he left the guy laying there on the ground, bloody and severely bruised… and maybe with a broken rib or two just to really get the message across. Now he had to find you. He needed to. He needed to see you, to hold you in his arms. He’s sure you’ll need comfort when you realize your boy toy is ghosting you, and he’s just the man to provide said comfort.

Miguel grinned when he saw you making your way to your dorm. You were alone. Perfect. He made his way over to you, coming up behind you and snaking his arms around your waist. The gesture made your heart jump. A million thoughts ran through your hand, wondering if you were being attacked or if your boy toy was trying to scare you. He leaned down and nuzzled his face against your neck. That’s when you saw his hair and caught the familiar smell of Miguel. He smelt of subtle cologne and smoke.

“Miguel? What are you doing?” You turned your head to look at him. He didn’t reply as his hands wandered over you. As much as you hated to admit it, this was kind of hot… His hands were so big, and glided so expertly over your frame, over every curve. They cupped your breasts perfectly, and you let out a quiet moan as he started to knead gently. “M-Mig… let’s take this somewhere more private-” Before you finished your sentence, he scooped you up in those strong arms and carried into a darker hallway.

“This’ll do, cariño.” He growled into your ear. His large body pressed you into the wall, making you unable to escape now. He towered over you, hands on either side of your head to keep you right where he wanted you. You blushed as you looked up at him, a playful smirk on his lips. Miguel leaned down and kissed you passionately, a hand moving to cup your cheek as the other made its way down to your skirt. He pushed the fabric up your thigh, his touch sending shivers through your body. You returned the kiss, your arms reaching around his neck to keep him close.

You gave into him, let him do what he wanted despite every moral instinct in you saying this is wrong. You had always thought you could never be with someone like Miguel, that you two were just too different for each other. But fuck… the way his hands moved… all those ideals of what the perfect guy for you was crumbled away, replaced by the thought that the only one for you was Miguel. He had succeeded in doing exactly what he wished, he wanted you to be only his, and he got that.

A small gasp escaped your lips when you felt a thick finger rub against your wet panties. Miguel smirked when he felt just how soaked you were, pulling your panties to the side and dragging a finger through your slick folds. You shuddered and let out a moan as his finger grazed your clit.

“Qué dulces sonidos, mami.” Miguel groaned in your ear as he traced circles around your clit, listening to the heavenly moans leaving your mouth. Your hand quickly moved to his waistline, fumbling with his belt haphazardly as you urgently tried to free what you so desperately wanted. He chuckled at your desperation, bringing his hand down to assist you. He slid his belt off, letting you drag his pants and boxers down. You watched as his erection sprang free, face flushed red as the wetness between your thighs increased.

He smirked and pressed against your body more, his cock sliding between your folds, He covered his length in your slick before pressing the tip to your hole. Fuck, he’s big… Almost too big… You thought to yourself. Miguel knew this would be a tight squeeze, but he didn’t care anymore. You cried out as he shoved his erection inside you, stretching your hole so much with barely any time to adjust. He groaned as your walls contracted around him more, and he captured your lips in another kiss to quiet you down a bit.

You moaned into his mouth as he pushed into you further and held one of your legs up, allowing him to slide even deeper. Miguel continued to push in until his hips met yours, giving you time to adjust. That pause only lasted a few seconds, however, before he started thrusting. His pace was slow to begin with, he loved listening to your whines and moans as his length moved in and out of your cunt. He trailed kisses down your jawline and neck, his hands holding onto your waist. He groaned as your walls tightened around him more, his nails digging into the soft skin of your waist as he tries to keep himself composed.

He picked up his speed, fucking you into the bricks. He didn’t want to finish before you, even though he felt practically edged since he first laid eyes on you. He was determined to make you finish first, to prove you needed him just as much as he needed you. You gasped and moaned as his pace quickened, the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot over and over. You felt a familiar heat forming in your gut and he rutted into you like a desperate animal, your hands gripping his jacket to keep him close.

“M-Miguel…” You moaned and your grip tightened a bit. You felt so close already, every thrust bringing you closer to the edge. He felt it too and tried so hard to keep himself together. His hips stuttered, thrusts losing the pattern he set. Your voice didn’t help, hearing you say his name so cute and sweet just fueled the flames of his lust. Miguel dipped his head down, hiding his face against your neck.

Miguel groaned and grunted as he felt his release approaching. You gasped and moaned as your orgasm ripped through you. He groaned when he felt your walls contract once more, causing him to release inside you as his hips stuttered more. He fucked you slow and deep, pushing his cum in further as it spilled inside you. You rode out your orgasms together, his hands moving down to your ass and kneading gently as you both came down from your highs.

You whimpered a little as the overstimulation, his cock slowing to a stop before he pulled out. He fixed your panties, keeping all that cum inside you, and he let your skirt fall back down around your thighs. Your skin felt so hot, every brush of his fingers sent a wave of heat through your body. You’re in a daze as Miguel fixes his pants.

“My dorm or yours?” His voice brought you out of your daze and you looked up at him.

“Hm? You know we can’t have each other in our dorms.” You chuckled a little.

“Like I care about that.” Miguel smirked a little as he pulled you into a kiss.

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