୨୧﹕༊﹒ Lucifer Morningstar (demon Form) Gifs — Please Credit Me If You Use These!! I Take

Omg I just saw that u write for atsv!! So I was wondering if u could do one with a female reader x hobie where the readers quite reserved to everyone in public (maybe she’d been a spidey longer so she’s lost more people? Idk why she’d be reserved bc I cannot write for shot lmao) and people think she’s super cold but then they like?? Walk in, and she’s like open and warm with Hobie (it doesn’t matter if she’s loud or not) and they kinda just look at the scene in shock like wtf and Pav is sort of smug bc he knew all along and then it comes out that they’re dating?

It Sounds Nice coming from You.

Hobie Brown x Fem!Spidey Reader

“I totally called it.” “Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”

kisses him cause he my bf (-compulsive liar)

People whispered about you. Spider people and the general public alike. Your city spreading gossip, rumours and misinformation to try and figure out who you were, but that was a Spiderwoman affair, every one of them dealt with it.

But having people same as you talk in hushed tones, glancing at you as you walked past. That’s a new kind of feeling.

The Spider Society didn’t exactly favour you, per se. There was nothing inherently wrong with you either, so no reason to get rid of you. But you were just so silent. No one knew a thing about you.

You mostly kept to yourself around base, never really trying too hard to make friends, you were well known enough not to be questioned. A loyal fighter was what you were recognised for, not your personality, your abilities.

There were still some people that managed to creep their way in though, their hearts so full of love, you didn’t know how to refuse them.

So you conceded. You let them in, and begged to any deity that would listen not to take them from you.

—

Hobie knew you as someone who could listen. Who understood him rather than challenged his beliefs. Not that he had any, but that was the point.

Your lack of input made him feel accepted in going on tangents of why he thought the way he did. And you just sat, and listened. A kind heart and an open mind.

Which eventually led to him falling for that kind heart. Tripping over his own feet to please your silent self. To get those small smiles or amused huffs out of you.

The occasional time you spoke to him, under hushed breaths and fond tones. God, he couldn’t take it.

The way your accent forms over each and every word, how your voice was akin to honey malt, sweet and addicting. Only giving him small doses, but he was the only one who got those doses. Only him, and you, and the words you spoke or times you listened.

He knows that people thought you were cold, or unloving. And maybe you were at first, maybe he thought you were. But he figured you out fast. Where you couldn’t talk, you could touch. Brushing your hands over his arm to get his attention. Linking your hand through his and dragging him away from people you don’t want to be near, he would smile down at you and follow along like a lost puppy. How your brows would crease a certain way, or nose would scrunch a little when you found distaste in things. He was a fool for you.

Where you lacked in verbal communication, you strived in every other category. So when some Spider-people decided to come to him, urging him for answers about you.

Telling him that he wasn’t sure you even wanted to be here—, Hobie would shut down the conversation quicker than thought to be possible. Giving a simple “She’s just quiet.”, and ditching the moment the words are out of his mouth.

It’d worked—, for a while. Ignoring the demeaning or conspiratorial comments made about you by spider-people a-kind. But eventually it got the better of him. Having him borderline snarl at the people who would talk shit right in front of his, or your, face.

“She’s silent, ain’t she?”

“Yeah. Peter 48 said she was like that ‘cause she killed her parents, made ‘er real quiet.”

“Jesus christ. Wouldn’t surprise me, she’s a freak.”

“Dude—“ One of the two spiders, the first one, turned to Hobie. Spider-senses ringing. Hobie stated back at them, deadpan and unblinking. “Don’t.”

The younger spider paled, quickly trying to backtrack.

“Hey— Hobie. I— Didn’t mean it. Was just repeating what I heard, ykno—“

“Cut it, mate.”

He squeaked, head tilting down in respect, the other spider following.

“Stop spreading shit rumours like ‘at. It ain’t fun when you’re the subject. ‘S it?”

“No.”

“Mm.”

Hobie walked past them smoothly, brushing shoulders with the kid just to scare him a little more. When he was far enough away, he heard them start to whisper to one another. “Fuck man, that was close. He could tell Miguel, and then we’d be out.”

“Jesus..”

He felt rather accomplished that day.

—

It was days later where you were brought up around him again. He’d been texting you, the upper half of his body hanging from Miguel’s platform, his wicks shifting every time he moved.

Miguel and Lyla were talking amongst themselves, clicking through holograms and sorting things out for potential anomalies.

Jess, Pavitr and Gwen had walked into the room chatting, Pav and Gwen expressing their excitement rather loudly.

He glanced up at them from his phone, you were still typing.

immm gonna b homein ten just be patient >:(

I’m patient 🦑

u werent 2 seconds ago

I don’t subscribe to consistency.

Or this slandering talk

ur consistently lame

also why squid

I’m never lame. Also, he’s cute

hes not real

Don’t do this me

reeeeeal tasty tho

What is wrong with you.

numnnum crunchhhh crrcchhh numnum ( > _ <)

Inhumane.

mmmmmm yummyyyy

He can’t die, he’s immortal

The ‘Texting’ bubble popped up on his screen.

“Hey, Hobie!”

Pavitr was running up to him, looking from his lowered position below the elevated platform.

He slipped further down the platform, slumping slowly as he greeted Pavitr upside down.

“Pav, my guy!”

Pavitr bounced on the balls of his feet, smiling wide at his friend.

“What’chu doing up there?”

His eyes darted to Miguel and Lyla, ending their conversation.

Smirking, he whispered to Hobie, “With the grump.”

Hobie snickered, gaining a disapproving look from Jess.

“Textin’ [Name].”

Just then, the next message from you showed.

immortal ??? how consistent of him to live

He grinned, typing back quickly while Pavitr eyed him knowingly.

He’s a squid, he’s more fluid than anything

ihu

terrivle joke

No, you don’t

And it was great

wtvr >:P

Hobie grabbed the ledge of the platform and swung down, landing softly in front of Pavitr and pocketed his phone.

“Glad ya ‘ere. Those two can’t keep it quiet, aye?” He said, pointing back towards Lyla and Miguel.

“They do argue very often.”

“Nah, Lyla don’t argue, mate. Just the hardass.”

Pavitr snorted and Hobie softly punched his stomach in jest, earning one from Pav to the chest, and starting a round of playful punching. Pavitr laughed as Hobie brought him into a headlock, scrunching his fist over the shorter man’s hair and rubbing it in.

They let up when they heard Lyla teasing Miguel for something again, giggling to each other at his expense.

He threw an arm over his fluffy haired friend and leaned his weight on him. Pav smiled up at him once more, brighter now. Before he could speak, Gwen’s voice echoed through the barren room.

“Same reason as you, I’m guessing.”

Hobie turned his head towards her, dropping himself off Pav and standing up straight again. Smiling at her as she reached him, and went in to hug her briefly. When they disconnected, he spoke again.

“Yeah—, No clue then, mini-punk.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Neither big bad has said nothin’ to me yet.”

“Seriously, are we going to skip over that?”

“Maybe they’re waiting until [Name] is here!” Pavitr chimed in.

“What does mini-punk even mean!”

“Not exactly, Pavitr.”

Jess, who now was standing next to Miguel, spoke.

The trio turned to face the two elder spider-people.

“Huh?”

“We wanted to have a discussion with the three of you—.” Miguel put his hands on his hips, authority that Hobie only saw as a challenge emanating from his figure.

“—Away from [Name], she’s already been consulted.”

Hobies eyes narrowed, the atmosphere in the room suddenly shifting to something a lot less unfriendly, and a lot more cautious.

Jess caught wind of the younger man’s tense stature and shuffled forward a step, not unwilling to intervene.

“Nothing too bad, just—,” He paused for a moment, the dense light from the reflective floors making the contours of his face pop.

Hobie watched with batted breath, posture only slightly relaxing from the statement. The crease in his brows begging to be drawn, yet his pokerface was something to be beat.

“,—Addressing her.. lack of communication.”

A shiver raked down the brit’s body, physically restraining himself from chewing this man out with a rebuttal.

“Wha’ ‘bout it?”

His gruff voice was a stark indicator of his annoyance.

“Well, ignoring the rumours following her—,”

Hobie, the usually rather sensical man, was getting more agitated by the minute.

“,—We’ve noticed a certain independence that she holds. Something not many others do.”

The punk quirked a brow.

“So?” Gwen was the one to talk now.

“That doesn’t seem very serious, ‘f you ask me.” She laughed lightly, trying to lighten the mood. Something Pavitr seemed a tad scared to do. There was a lot of competition in the air right now, he wasn’t very competitive.

“Exactly, it’s not.”

Jess cut in, seeing how terribly Miguel started this conversation made her cringe.

“It’s not—, but,” She shook her head, hair falling prettily with every move. “,Her ‘independence’, has been more akin to ‘lack of teamwork’. In some cases.”

Gwen started to speak again, her eyebrows furrowed, just as Hobies now were. He was right about brewing with offence.

“So!—,” Jess cut her off before she could begin.

“So there’s no need for her to have distractions anymore. From now on, she will not be going on team missions. Just solo’s.”

“Wha—! You’re cutting her off?!”

“Gwen, it’s not like that.”

“Like hell it isnt! She’s a part of us!”

“Doesn’t this mean she’s going to be in more danger?” Pavitr spoke up, concerned.

“No— well, not unless—,”

“Unless!? You’ve gotta’ be kidding!” Gwen choked out.

“And what does ‘consulted’ mean! Did she agree to this?!—“

They continued to argue, Gwen and Pavitr advocating for your teamwork skills while Miguel and Jess had made up their mind.

“No communication,” He pinched the bridge of his nose “,Fuck off.” Hobie scoffed under his breath, turning to leave and storming out.

The voices of Miguel, Jess and his friends following him through the portal to you.

—

“You agreed to this?”

lIts not like they’re wrong, I just hold you all back.”

He huffed, exasperated. Not only were you putting yourself in danger, you were doing it alone. And letting some guy who has a borderline vendetta against teens be the call for it.

“Now, you know that’s not tr—“

His stern voice was cut off by the frown on your face quivering. A due sign of you nearing to cry.

“Oh, shit— C’mon dollface, c’mere.”

He sat down on your shared bed, scooting against the headboard and bringing you into his lap. A soothing hand ran over your back as you tried to reel in your embarrassment.

“I really didn’t mean to agree.”

Hobie sighed, pushing your head into his neck and watching how the rings adorning his fingers rose goosebumps in their path. “I know, sweet’eart.”

And he did know, the moment that it had been a meeting addressed solely with just Jess and Miguel, he knew that Peter had been excluded for a reason. That Miles had been sent after an anomaly as an unknowing distraction for Peter to chase after. He knew those two intimidated you. And the fear of parental disappointment was something they used on you—, young, sweet you. That only ever got hurt because she didn’t want her problems to hurt others, or herself.

You had opened up to him once. Told him what everyone twisted when they whispered sickening words. A story unlike the rumours crowding your reputation.

How no, you hadn’t killed your parents, or siblings, or whatever messed up thing people claimed of you.

You told him how you hadn’t been bitten yet. How, when your family was killed, you hadn’t had any powers. So you couldn’t save them. And it wasn’t even canon. Nothing could’ve stopped them from dying, but it didn’t have to happen. And that was the guilt that weighed on you. How no matter the hardships your parents put you through, a kid neglected of attention. You still would rather die a million times for them to live once.

And it’s all “would”, and never “can”.

Other spider-people don’t have to live with the fact their parents died for nothing. Was what you said. A messed up thought, no doubt. And one you felt guilty for. But the sole continuer of this sorrow-filled silence. Which has worked well enough to protect you so far, why is Hobie one to break that?

Because you love him, you guess.

His hands slid further down your back, resting on the curve of your waist in his lap.

His breathing soothed yours. The shuddering breaths you had been giving to stop your tears, also stopped.

“You wanna talk about your day instead, luv?”

“Yeah, thank you Hobie.”

“Love when you say my name, Babydoll. So pretty and sweet like that.”

Wrapping your hands around his lithe waist, you hummed. Beginning your recount of the day in the honeyed, reserved tone you’d always held.

—

Around half an hour had passed with Gwen arguing against Miguel before Peter showed up, Moles in tow.

“What’s all this about?” His slippers flopped when he walked and the baby carrier strapped to his chest shifted every time a sleeping MayDay squirmed to get comfortable.

“This—, This asshole!”

“Gwen.” Jess chastised her.

Gwen ignored it, pointing at Miguel accusingly. “—Kicked [Name] off the team!”

“Not kicked.”

“You said she wasn’t going with us anymore.”

Miles looked offended by the prospect. “Why?”

“She’s not kicked, she’s simply better off solo.”

“Oh, so it’s our fault then!”

“Gwendolyne.”

“All of you, stop.”

Peters voice ended the bickering, having learnt since fatherhood exactly how to use said voice. “We are not sending an 18 year old on solo mission against anomalies.”

“Since when did you have a say—“

“Miguel. You’re an idiot if you think i’m going to let that happen. That’s a kid.”

“She’s an adult.”

“When it’s convenient to you.”

Miguel pinched his nose bridge, growling under his breath. Jess spared a glance at him before wincing and backing down from the conversation.

“She doesn’t talk to people.”

“I’m sure she does, just not to you.” Gwen cut in.

“Yeah, her and Hobie talk a lot.” Miles prepped up on his toes. Pavitr smiled and hummed an agreement.

“Not that I’ve seen.”

Peter gave him another disapproving look. “Disregarding that. The fact you decided to not consult me on this decision is another reason that it’s not happening.”

“Consult? Like some council, please.” Miguel scoffed at him, rolling his eyes and turning to open a holographic tab.

“Yes, like some council. Someone’s gotta be the brains ‘round here.” The father joked, coddling MayDay as she cooed.

“I’m going to go inform [Name] the retraction of this decision.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Oops too late, portals open.”

“Can I come with?” Miles jogged after Peter, hopping quickly through the portal, Peter, Gwen and Pavitr following. Not without Gwen flipping Miguel off as she went. “We’ll sort something out, she can go duos with Hobie.” Jess put a hand on his shoulder, watching as he stared off to where the portal had previously been with a sided expression before sighing.

“Yeah..”

“That went great.” Lyla dragged, popping up on Miguel’s shoulder.

“I’m a second away from shutting you off.”

The AI blew a raspberry at her companion, and disappeared.

—

He had went off on a tangent about some movie he saw, or song he’d heard. Hobie honestly couldn’t remember, he was too focused on you. The way your voice sounded, how open you were being with him when every now and then you would respond to him. The hearts in his eyes were probably from how heavy his own was beating. Staring at you like a sinner to a prophet.

You had moved down from his lap, now curled against his side, head leaning on his shoulder and hand resting on his chest. At some point, the movie you had been watching before Hobie showed up was unpaused, and serving as background noise for his quiet rambling.

Both of you pressed under a blanket to beat the cold, and the darkness outside your window being killed off by the lights strung across your room. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this cozy, this utterly comfortable.

Sparks of colour strung out of nowhere, neither of them really seeing it at first, up until it spat out Miles. He stumbled forward a little and went to greet you before taking on the scene. You and Hobie cuddled up on a bed, blanket wrapped around you both, fire going, people singing. He was exaggerating the last parts, but it felt necessary for something so unexpected.

“Hey—, guys.” The awkward teen managed, before Peter walked through the portal with the other two in tow.

“Woah, no mean to interrupt.”

Peter put his hands up in surrender. Hobie snorted, it wasn’t like you were incapable of affection, It just seems he was the only one who got it.

“I totally called it.”

“Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”

He pouted, before giggling and waltzing over to sit next to the both of you. Flopping down on the bed and turning to watch the TV.

“Oh my god, I love this movie!”

“Favourite character?” You inquired. A collective raise of eyebrows was shown throughout the room.

Gwen shuffling over to sit down as well, a baffled look on her face.

“The horse.”

“Pff- Max?” Hobie snorted at Pav. Giving the still rather confused Miles - Peter duo a reassuring smile. And greeting Gwen with a fist bump, she smiled wearily at him before her smirk filled out and she punched his arm in congrats.

Pavitr nodded and laughed, gasping excitedly when the scene on the lake showed up. “Perfect timing.”

You glanced up at Hobie, Miles and Peter finding somewhere to sit as well, talking quietly amongst themselves.

He smiled at you, bringing you in closer while Pavitr sat smug.

The air of confusion slowly dissipated into something accepting, none but Pavitr had really expected you to be so.. Open. But they came to find they didn’t exactly mind it.

—

Everyone had left by now, the knowledge that you didn’t have to go on dangerous missions alone anymore leaving Hobie satisfied and you comforted.

“You doin’ right, babe?”

“Yeah, Hobes.”

You gripped his shirt a tad tighter and yawned, eyes drifting more shut as the minutes ticked down. “Wanna go t’ bed?”

“We’re in bed, dummy.”

He shot you a playful look.

“Don’ ge’ smart with me, young lady.”

You smiled at him before he made the decision to shuffle you both down in bed to get comfortable, switching off the lights by the outlet. He moved back to you, letting his whole body rest near yours, and letting you initiate any contact wanted.

A leg wrapped around his, and your arm still picking the fabric of his shirt.

“Sleep, sweethear’.”

“Mhmmph.”

Hobies breathe lulled you to sleep, white noise against your racing thoughts. He watched you fall, your trust in him to keep you safe was enough to make a man weak. He smiled, looking out your shared window at the city life below.

No crime, no anomaly or misshaped villain could possibly drag him away from you.

—

BAMBAMBAM 🦑‼️

some pfps of my favorite cranky cat

not to be buck wild but:

astarion x LG!paladin!Tav scenario. (cw: spanking, mild brat taming. minors dni)

he’s tired with how damned good you are, how nice and always trying to do the right thing, and yes maybe he seduced you into bed a little while ago and it was amazing and afterwards you held him and looked into his eyes and stroked his face and he felt more seen and protected than he had in two hundred years but —

but—!

you’re so… bloody… ugh. you’re so you. and if he looks at himself in your light for too long he begins to realise how small he is. how pathetic.

how could someone like you really feel anything for someone like him?

so one night he goes to do a bit of light pilfering at the emerald grove. it’s not too far and he can sneak in over the walls, they’re not that well protected after all, and picks the things he thinks nobody will miss. a few gold here, a necklace there, a couple of potions—

and he thinks he’s gotten away with it until he comes back and finds you waiting in his tent.

you look softer without all that armour on, but no less broad. he can see the way your muscles glint in the low candle light. it makes him salivate, and not just for the blood he can taste from here that’s thrumming through you.

you ask him where he’s been, and he tells a lie (of course he does). you see right through it though. he finds himself obeying when you tell him to empty his pockets. the look of disappointment on your face is worse than any anger. he starts to defend himself, asking what you expected of him, he prides himself on sneakery, and —

you interrupt him by telling him to “come here”.

he obeys. he can feel himself getting hard. he’s so humiliated by it, but he knows the first time you touch him he’ll be gone.

slowly you pull him into your lap, then over your knee. his cock stirs in curiosity as you put your hand on his arse cheek, telling him clearly he’s going to have to learn with a slightly firmer touch. if he’s going to be a brat he’ll be treated like one.

you look into his eyes for consent. even now, you care. care about him.

he nods.

the first smack steals the breath from his lungs - breath not needed but inhaled when he saw you in his tent. his cock goes from half-mast to full.

the second has him mewling, rutting against your thigh. you move it just far enough to stop him and he realises he has become desperate embarrassingly quickly.

by the third he’s moaning, arse smarting but each little sting dancing through his body like lightning. he begins to leak in his britches, impossibly aroused just from this.

you keep going until he’s a blubbering mess across your lap. all he can do is lie there as his head empties, desiring only your touch.

eventually you ask him if he wants to cum. he begs, fucking begs, but he’s too blissed out to care how needy he’s become - as your hand snakes round to cup him it only takes a couple of strokes over his trousers until he’s releasing in them, cumming in his pants like a teenager.

you stay there for a moment, still, until eventually he feels you using your Lay on Hands to heal the ache in his cheeks. he grumbles - he would have been happy to carry about the smarting feeling - but then you sit him up and check he’s alright. touch his face and mutter how good he is, asking if he’s seriously hurt.

he thinks once again: even now, you care.

he’s never had that before.

the next day you make him return everything he stole. he can’t look at your thighs without wanting to be laid out over them again.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget @hopeful-n-sad

collar

nsfw!!! xiao x f!reader

sub top xiao, very mild petplay, pet names, semi public sex

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You know Xiao loves you. He’s a sweetheart despite being a bit aloof or closed off to others and you know he would do anything for you - almost.

When you came to him with a peppy bounce in your step, big grin and hands holding something resembling a animal collar, though, he closes you down immediately.

“Absolutely not.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to do,” you faux pout. “Maybe I was showing you the new accessory I got for my cat.”

Xiao deadpans at you. “You don’t own a cat.”

“Sure I do.”

Your grin grows big again and you show him the collar more closely. An encrusted golden plate that sits at the front of the dark piece of leather reads “xiao” in all capital letters.

He blinks at it, once, and then twice before looking back up at you. “....I’m not wearing that.”

You open the latch that holds each side together and reach out to put it on him anyway. “I got it specially made for you, so you have to wear it.”

Leaning away while pushing your hands down, he murmurs “that’s humiliating. I don’t want to wear it.”

The way his eyes follow the item tells a different story, with a light flush running across his cheeks confirming your suspicions. From past experience you’ve found that he likes the feeling of something - usually your hand - around his neck and thought this would be perfect to have while your hands are busy touching him elsewhere.

“You’ll look so pretty though,” you tell him, keeping the collar in hand while you reach to slide your spare onto the smooth skin of his throat. “Don’t you want to be a good kitty for me?”

He freezes momentarily at that, eyes staring unblinking at you before a shudder rolls down his body. For other people, he may be like a stone statue, emotions never showing through. But for you, he was easy to read like a book.

“Ah, was that a yes?” He doesn’t answer you but his head falls back, neck on display for you. An act of submission.

You squeeze once with the hand that sat on his neck, making his eyes flutter shut momentarily. In that time his eyes were closed, you swapped out your hand with the collar, clicking the clasps closed so it stayed in place.

The collar suits him, you think, a dark leather band that fits snuggly around his neck. Connected to the golden plaque with his name engraved was a similarly golden bell that hung just an inch down.

You poke the bell with your finger and it swishes, jingling. Xiao glares - unthreatening - at you when he hears the sound.

“I wish you could see yourself,” you murmur to him, ghosting your fingers over the metallic name plate.

He’s so quiet like this, already breathless even though you hadn’t really touched him yet. “Do you like it?”

You pull him along to sit at a chair near a round decorative table, sliding onto his lap once he is seated before responding with an affirmative hum. “You look like you need to be taken care of.”

If you grind down you can feel him under you, already hard from getting collared. He’s so easy to rile up, your subtle hip roll making his own stutter back up into yours.

With the constant cool pressure of the leather around his neck you doubt he’ll last long. He already looks gone, his pupils blown out so only a small ring of his iris is visible and his chest rising and falling in little hot pants.

You pull his shirt, all the way up so his chest is exposed. He lets you do it, falling back against the seat when you brush your thumbs on either of his nipples.

They’re so sensitive, too. If you didn’t already have a plan for him you’d probably try to make him come just by playing with them alone.

Once their hard against your fingertips you move on, shuffling back to sit more on the ends of his thighs, where they meet his knees. With space made you’re able to slip your hand below his baggy pants and pull his hardened cock out.

Making your hand into loose circle shape, you let it slide down the length, friction of skin against skin making him twitch in your grasp.

It’s a little dry, so you hold your hand up to his mouth. “Can you spit for me, kitten?”

His mouth is already opened a bit and you’re surprised he isn’t drooling. He lets out a little noise but listens to you, spitting in your hand so you can use it as lubricant.

The slide is wet now, making it easy to do a continuous up, down, up, down movement. It must feel a lot more, because he gets a little louder, a little more into it. He’d be fucking up into your fist if you weren’t sitting on him and you momentarily wish you had sat beside him so you could see him do that.

Despite how good your slicked hand feels around him, he seems nervous about someone catching to two of you in the act, now gripping onto your wrist that moved up down the length of his cock.

It’s night time so you personally aren’t worried about it, as the inn is much less busy - pretty much dead - at night. The only time anyone is up here is to get a glimpse of the view, but even then they chose to go lower down because they know Xiao likes to stay up here, preferably alone.

He’s a little out of it though so it makes it easy to continue without him protesting much, the slick grip around him making it hard for him to say no to you.

When your wet palm circles the head, he releases a shaky sigh and the hand that was tightly wound around your wrist loosens.

He seems to forget about the possibility of onlookers after that, especially when you finally sink down on top of him.

Tight wet hear engulfs his cock, squeezing around it and he has to hold back from coming right then and there. “Oh, god, wait wait wait-“ he struggles, grappling onto your hips to try to stop you.

“You better not, Xiao.” You reply lowly, slipping the rest of the way down so you were seated right in his lap, whole length inside you.

He lets out a sob, cock kicking against your constricting walls. It’s so good, so tight and he wants to come so bad, hanging right over the edge.

“Please, please please please,” you don’t know if he’s begging you to let him come or begging himself to hold it. Either way, you don’t respond, giving him a moment to struggle against the onslaught of pleasure on his own.

You wait for the feeling of being filled but it never comes. With a gleeful pinch to his nipple you start moving, a slow gyration of your hips that makes Xiao’s thoughts turn syrupy.

The both of you stay like that for a while, with you leading a smooth roll of your hips while Xiao stifles sobs of pleasure into little desperate whimpers.

“Will kitty hold back for me?” You request once you feel as though you’ve given him some time to adjust to the feel of your cunt around him and he nods tearfully.

He’s so good, you think as you raise yourself a little, so the head of his cock is just pushing inside your entrance. “Go ahead then,” and you don’t have to tell him twice for his hips to start thrusting up into you, chasing the soaking heat.

Your thighs burn a little from holding yourself up at an angle but it’s worth it to see him so needy. The bell on his collar jingles with the effort to fuck upwards and it seems to spur him to keep going. You realize quite quickly that he won’t last much longer.

You let him do his thing, but lean in, resting your hands on his shoulders for balance while you lean in towards his ear. “You know, you’re so good for me like this, kitty.”

The rhythm he has stutters and he moans an “oh fuck, oh fuck” while trying to regain it. You latch your lips on a spot right above the edge of the collar, sucking a mark - a claim - into his skin.

It must be too much for him, the poor thing moaning loud and bucking his hips harder into yours.

“Next time,” you murmur against his neck, “I should get you a leash. Then you’ll really be like my little pet.”

He comes and god it’s a sight to behold. His eyes squeeze shut and his mouth parts and his back arches, so hard it looks a little painful. You seat yourself down so his come fills inside of you instead of spilling out onto himself.

Hair falls in his face when he slumps forward as he’s coming down and you push it back, petting him in a comforting manner.

“Good kitty.” His hips jump and he whines, overstimulated by your words and your cunt still wrapped around him.

You go to unclip the material around his neck but he immediately stops you, mumbling that he wants to keep it on for now.

The next time you see him he’s wearing the collar, along with the time after that. He doesn’t seem to want to take it off and you’re not sure if it’s because he likes the pressure around his throat or if he likes feeling owned but either way it makes you hot inside and almost always results in his moans and the jingle of a bell filling the quiet night.

co-ed

pairing: shinsou x reader genre: college au!, drama, humor, fluff, tiny angst status: ongoing updates: mon, weds, fri 3pm EST  summary: when UA said they has co-ed dorms, you didn’t think they meant rooms as well masterlist | join the taglist

orientation: intros

one: roomie of opposite sex

two: common room

three: night one

four: binding rope

five: is that a simp?

six: insta pics

seven: tutor

eight: study date

nine: one hundred

ten: socially inept 

eleven: when he 😩

twelve: rejected

thirteen:

fourteen:

fifteen:

sixteen:

seventeen:

eighteen:

nineteen:

twenty:

twenty-one:

twenty-two:

twenty-three:

twenty-four:

twenty-five:

twenty-six:

twenty-seven:

twenty-eight:

twenty-nine:

out: 

You know I enjoy something when I actually draw. Here are all my best friends beautiful eyes. I am very normal about this game.

inspired by this edit and this artwork

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST

i am so fuckin sorry y’all, i really do want to write more zuko fic but i’ve got AWFUL writers block right now ;;; i’m trying to write i swear, but i don't want to give you guys garbage writing, so pls be patient i beg of you

GOD THIS IS ACURATE!!! i have literal stacks of dozens of books to read, but im more interesting in this reid rn <3

I have the entire twilight saga and 3 bridgerton books that are untouched but i have read every spencer reid fan fic i can find on here

“not all men” you’re right. sokka of the southern water tribe would never

If you’re still adding people to the firey familiarity tag list, I would love to be on it 👉👈

absolutely!!! i will add you to it as soon as i post the next part <3