#mask with fleece ties

[fatkish]

Kirishima x SA Victim Reader X Bakugou

Trigger warning: mentions and allusions to rape and stalking. Triggeres beneath the cut

During your third year at UA, you, Kirishima and Bakugou decided to hang out at an arcade since you’ll all be graduating soon and you won’t be able to hang out as often.

You each had an agency picked out that you’d be working at until you could get you own up and running.

You guys played a variety of games and when lunch came around, you had gone to the bathroom

What you and Kirishima hadn’t noticed was that one of your Fans had been following you

You had issues with this fan before, they had been arrested for stalking and harassment and even tried to follow you home in your second year.

You had a feeling you were being followed and so you texted Bakugou who decided to have you go to his house.

After you unlocked his door with the hidden key he told you about, you entered

Not even 2 minutes later, the guy walked up to the door

This is how Bakugou is able to recognize the guy. He also confronted the dude that day and despite his best efforts, the guy was undeterred

So when Bakugou noticed this dude following you despite haven’t a restraining order, he knew the guy was up to no good

Bakugou had been getting your guy’s drinks while Kirishima was at the table waiting for the Pizza you guys had ordered from the Arcade’s inside restaurant

When Bakugou got back with the drinks he had noticed you had left your phone

When he didn’t see the creepy guy, he got a bad feeling

You had just finished your business in the bathroom and was leaving the stall to wash your hands when you came face to face with your fanatic stalker

You didn’t have a chance to defend yourself before he used his quirk to inject a paralytic toxin into you via retractable barbs in his wrists

He shoved you into the stall and began making out with your paralyzed body as his hands began exploring your body

You couldn’t move and couldn’t scream due to the makeshift gag he had tied to your face

He had started to remove your clothes when a loud bang was heard

Bakugou told Kirishima to call the police and tell them that a girl was being followed by a stalker and to get here as soon as possible

Bakugou grabbed the guy and threw him off of you before he removed his t-shirt and gave it to you to replace your ruined one

While you put it on, Kirishima came to check out what was happening while Bakugou fought and subdued the stalker

While waiting for the police, Kirishima decided to get you that cute giant (favorite animal) plushie you had been wanting from the prize counter

He and Bakugou silently agreed to use both theirs and your tickets to get it since you didn’t have enough of your own

When the police arrived, Bakugou showed them his License and gave them a report and told them that he would bring you to the station to make a statement once you were ready

The police took his statement and arrested the dude.

After the event, you just wanted to go home. So Bakugou decided to walk you home as Kirishima put together a surprise for you to help cheer you up and help you deal with the emotional turmoil you’ll experience

This surprise was a care package, in it were your favorite snacks and candies, your favorite drinks like tea or sodas, a couple face masks and bath bombs, your favorite scented soap, a candle with your favorite scent, ice cream in your favorite flavor, a soft fleece throw blanket with pajamas and a couple packs of hot chocolate as well as the giant plushie

When you got home, you really wanted to be alone, but Bakugou told you to sit down or take a shower and that he’d make you lunch since you didn’t get to eat at the arcade

While you took a shower, Bakugou let Kirishima in while he finished making lunch and Kiri placed the surprise basket and plushie that he got, on the coffee table.

When you got out of the shower you were gonna ask Bakugou to leave but you saw them both as well as the basket and plushie

You ended up crying and the guys offered to leave but you asked them to stay since you didn’t feel comfortable being alone at your house

Kirishima decided to find a really bad movie like attack of the killer (something ridiculous) they you all could watch and make fun of while you guys ate lunch

The movie’s special effects sucked and the actors where terrible which made things kinda funny, after watching movies together you thanked the boys for the day and told Bakugou that you and him could go to the station together tomorrow

They left later that evening but insisted that you call either of them no matter what time if you needed anything or wanted to talk

(Hope you enjoyed and that this helps)

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #mha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijiro x reader #kiribaku x reader #mha kirishima #bnha kirishima #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou #kiribaku

[fancyrat4]

This is Part 4.

Part 1

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The night was young, and the clouds dark. He was no longer sprinting. He was exhausted now. He used the last of his strength to climb a tall tree. As he climbed, raindrops trickled on his black fur.

As Narinder nestled himself among the twisted branches of the ancient tree, he could feel his exhaustion weighing heavily upon him. His muscles ached with every minute movement.

Alone in the darkness, with only the sound of raindrops drumming against the leaves for company, Narinder felt the weight of his solitude truly bore down upon him. The events of the past three days replayed in his mind. It had been centuries since he'd truly been alone.

A brief thought crossed his mind: Had The Lamb felt like this before?

Who was he kidding? Of course they had.

As the rain intensified, soaking through his tattered clothing and chilling him to the bone, Narinder's strength began to wane more than it had already depleted, his body trembling with exhaustion as he huddled against the tree trunk, seeking solace in its ancient embrace.

In that moment of vulnerability, Narinder felt the full weight of his mortality, the realization of his own frailty crashing over him. He was but a mere mortal, made of flesh and blood, facing a world of dead gods and forgotten sins.

He reminded himself what he was here for: The Lamb. He prayed they were here somewhere on this cursed land. What would they think of the undead sheep at the ruins? And… were there more of them? Maybe climbing a tree was the best way to stay safe, just in case. Sheep were terrible at climbing trees.

The rain continued to pour down, masking any sounds of movement below. He knew he needed rest, but the fear of the unknown kept him alert. In the darkness, his thoughts drifted to the kits, Aym and Baal.

Did they know what dangers lurked in the land of the old gods? They traveled to distant lands, sailing around with no maps, only using the stars to guide them. Surely they had been here before, right?

The storm quieted down after a while. Even while drenched, Narinder managed to fall asleep for a couple of hours. Water droplets pit-pattered onto the undergrowth below.

Suddenly, a faint rustling sound caught Narinder's attention, causing him to awaken from his light sleep. Upon noticing the sound, he held his breath, straining to listen over the pounding rain. The rustling grew louder, accompanied by the faint sound of hooves scraping against the wet earth…

And the soft jingle of a bell with each step.

His heart was pounding now. Lamani? He couldn't help his wishful thinking.

Narinder cautiously peered through the foliage, his eyes scanning the darkness below, his third opening to see better. There, emerging from the shadows, was a lone figure - a sheep, its wool drenched and matted with rain, and soft while glow emanating from inside its ribs.

Narinder's grip tightened on the tree branches as he watched the sheep cautiously. No, this wasn't Lamani. It had no horns, and it was far too petite. Now, he could smell the stench of rot approaching.

With a mixture of curiosity and a dash disappintment, Narinder watched silently as the sheep drew nearer. As it came into a clearer view, Narinder noticed something unusual about its eyes - hollow sockets, just like the horde back at the settlement ruins.

Uncertain of what to do, Narinder remained hidden in the safety of the tree, observing the strange creature with three wary eyes. It seemed to be searching for something, its gaze sweeping over the forest with an intensity that sent shivers down Narinder's spine.

He just couldn't ignore the bell tied around its neck. He had given his Lamb a bell as a gift along with their first fleece to strike fear in their enemies, like a funeral bell tolling, albeit a very tiny bell.

There was truly no other motive for the gift. It wasn't significant to the sheep, as far as his ancient mind can think of. So why did this sheep have one?

He refrained from summoning his knife. He had to preserve his energy in case he had to run again. The more he watched the small undead sheep stumble through the rain-soaked forest, a pang of sympathy tugged at his heartstrings. Despite its eerie appearance, there was an unmistakable aura of vulnerability surrounding the creature.

Now that they were below him, he could see the sheep's stature. The snout of the skull was short, and the limbs appeared too long for its body. It still had cartilage and flesh on its ears.

A young lamb?

With a heavy sigh, Narinder made a decision. He carefully descended from the tree, making sure not to startle the lamb. Still in the tree, Narinder spoke in a quiet, neutral tone.

"Lamb, look up."

The lamb paused, its eyes were gone, but its face was a mixture of fear and confusion, the bell rustling as it moved. It seemed to hesitate, as if unsure whether to trust the black cat in the tree or to flee back into the darkness from whence it came.

"I won't hurt you. Can you understand me?"

The lamb's features relaxed slightly, and it took a hesitant step forward. Its scratched, worn hooves sunk into the muddy ground. Narinder could see the pained movement etched into its skeletal frame, the weight of its undead existence evident in every weary movement.

As the lamb drew nearer, Narinder could see the remnants of torn fabric clinging to its wool, a faint reminder of the life it once had.

This lamb died because of a reason it couldn't understand because his siblings were afraid of their entire species… of me. They were all slaughtered, and they had no chance to fight back, for who could go against the might of gods?

This lamb, just a child, could've had a long life. Yet, here they were wandering the forest for who knows how long, forever in pain, as its bone limbs creaked from effort.

Narinder dared not descend the tree. For all he knew, this could be a trap, or it could simply be a singular lamb that lost its flock.

Where had he heard of that story before? How painfully ironic. He recalled just how excited he was when a little lamb showed up in his realm, blood dripping from a fatal neck wound and tears spilling from their brown eyes. Back when he had no remorse for mortals. One thousand years was more than enough time to forget that mortals can suffer, to ignore their pain in order to free himself from chains.

Lamani taught him many things, including a new kind of patience he previously did not possess. Even if his lamb wasn't here, he knew Lamani would want to know about their undead kin stuck between realms.

Despite his own exhaustion and the dangers that lurked in the shadows, Narinder couldn't turn away from this lamb's suffering. After all, this wouldn't be the first time he held a hand out to a sacrificial beast.

With one claw stretched out below, he felt a little hoof touch it. Thankfully, physical contact had no adverse effects on either of them. As it happened, he felt the fire in his chest burn a tad stronger, the painful thudding returned, and he gritted his teeth.

For a fleeting moment, he had completely forgotten why he was cautious around this lamb. He slipped from the tree onto the ground. The tiny creature barely reached his hips. He gently glided his fingers to the bell around its neck, tapping it until it rang.

He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was starting to miss Lamani.

"I… Love you -"

They didn't mean it, surely. It was just another way for the cruel Lamb to punish him for trying to sacrifice them a second time. He was too greedy. He knew that. He knew that he didn't deserve to wear the Red Crown after that.

The moment Lamani indoctrinated him into the cult, he was spiteful, but his mortal body was weak. He remembered what The Lamb had told him that day after they refused to kill him:

"Death would be a mercy for someone like you, wouldn't you agree?"

Something nudged his arm. He blinked his three eyes. He was staring at the sky, the storm had briefly halted, and stars were visible. Looking down, he could see the undead lamb tugging his robe and pointing down a path into the forest.

"What is it?" He inquired. The little lamb took his hand and pulled him along the opening in the trees. For what felt like an hour, the lamb led him through the silent forest.

He felt the air change as mist rose from beneath his paws. Dew gathered on leaves and his whiskers. The woodland grew brighter with each breath.

And then, finally, they emerged into a small clearing, bathed in the warm golden rays of the rising sun. In the center of the clearing stood a crumbling stone altar, covered in moss and ivy, its surface fractured from centuries of neglect.

Narinder's three crimson eyes widened in surprise as he took in the sight before him. This was once one of his temples. He could recognize his old godly figure carved into stone.

But what truly caught his attention was the figure kneeling before the altar, their backs turned to him, their form still shrouded in darkness even as light peered over the trees. Narinder's breath caught in his throat as he recognized the all too familiar divine scent of incense and lanolin.

"Lamani?" he whispered, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. The lamb holding his hand broke contact, rushing forward with swift skips and a wagging tail. The bell around its neck singing a vibrant tune.

"I hoped - prayed, even - that I could find out what's happening to me." They whispered as their head turned to the side and extended their arm to the little lamb, hugging it as it curled on their lap. With delicate grace, they removed the bell from around the lamb's neck.

Narinder could see the large scar that sliced across Lamani's neck from when they first perished from decapitation. They tied the bell around themselves before turning to Narinder, making eye contact for the first time since that one fateful night.

"W- what are you doing out here?" Narinder stammered, his body refusing to move the way he wanted it to. The feeling was back. Chains, constricting him, binding him. The agonizing squeezing of his heart.

Lamani smiled, it was a soft grin that appeared both happy to see him, yet also mournful. There was something different about them, off.

"I was hoping you'd find me."

#cotl #cult of the lamb #cotl lamb #cotl narinder #narilamb #fanfic #fanfiction

[jinmukangwrites]

prompt 20 with damian and jason (batfam)?

20: Blanket

Hey don't cry, AO3 still down drabble prompts

-o-o-o-o-

Jason heard scuffling at the other side of the bedroom wall. He frowned, pushing himself up to his elbows so he could check his phone for any break-in alerts. Nothing. Which meant someone used the code to get in, which meant it was a bat.

Tonight, he wasn't staying at one of his own safe houses, but at one of Bruce's. He got his ankle twisted and this one happened to be closer than his own houses, and he, at the time, really didn't want to stay on the ankle longer than he had to. He had called it an early night too, so when he looked at the time and saw it was nearing 3am, he wasn't too surprised to hear someone else moving around, especially considering he could hear the sound of a growing thunderstorm outside.

Moving carefully off the bed so the mattress didn't creak, he got to his feet and padded silently to the door. He creaked it open and squinted into the light of the combination living room, kitchen, and dining area. It wasn't a large safehouse, meant for one person really unless someone else wanted to sleep on the single couch.

Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw none other than a sopping wet Damian glaring at the open linen closet, wearing most of his Robin suit sans the mask. Jason wondered why the pipsqueak would be looking so upset at the closet, like it had killed his cat, but then he glanced back at his bed and realized he took all the blankets on the lower shelves.

He grinned, looking back at Damian as the boy considered his options. He studied the shelves, even placing a hand on a shelf, then thinking better of it and looking back at the kitchen for a chair to stand on.

Jason decided he'd save the kid from the embarrassment by offering a different kind of embarrassment. "Need help, squirt?"

Damian nearly jumped out of his skin, giving a small shout and pulling out one of his swords. His eyes landed on Jason quickly, and his defensive shock turned into a classic scowl.

"Jason. I was not aware you were here."

Jason stepped out of the door and leaned against the wall near the linen closet, smiling. "Sorry, next time I'll let you know."

Damian scowled harder, and Jason sent a smug look at the linen closet. "Need a hand?"

Damian's mouth thinned, looking like he would love nothing more than to argue, but Jason didn't give him a chance to. He shooed Damian out of the way and reached up in the closet, grabbing a blanket, but handing over a couple towels first. "Dry off, shrimp. Couch may be plastic lined but the blanket sure ain't. Besides, your lips are blue."

Damian huffed, snatching the towels and stomping to the bathroom. Jason smiled and grabbed a second blanket, walking to the couch and laying the first one down and tucking it between the practically vacuum sealed cushions. It was standard protocol for Batman safehouses; the couches are plastic lined and the beds have removable protective mats. Made it easier to get blood off if the only form of warmth you had was a crap ton of random blankets you could pull from the closet.

He looked at the second blanket in his hands, then stopped in distant surprise. He recognized this blanket. Dick gave it to him for his eleventh birthday. It was a simple one, two squares of plush fleece with unfinished edges, the blanket held together instead by inch wide cuts along the perimeter tied together with beads. Red, green, yellow.

At the time, Jason thought it was the coolest blanket. Now, he can see the imperfections of the most certainly handmade gift. He didn't know Bruce kept it, let alone if he even knew it was Jason's.

He ran his fingers along the fleece, some of the edges beginning to pill from use he never gave it.

He didn't have time to think about how he felt about that before Damian stomped back out of the bathroom, shoving the towels into a nearby hamper and snatching the blanket out of Jason's hands, plopping down onto the couch. He hadn't changed out of his Robin suit even though Jason knew there were several stored changes in the bathroom.

"Hmm, acceptable blanket, Jason. I like this one," Damian said, and Jason felt a genuine smile tug at his lips, something warm in his gut.

"I like that one too," was all he said before he ruffled his damp hair. Damian hissed and slapped his hand away, but he wasn't aggravated. He knew he was being teased, and he wasn't genuinely upset about it. "Make sure you're done shivering before you go back out," he continued.

"I know how to take care of myself," Damian huffed. "But... thank you."

Jason nodded, turning and waving a lazy finger-gun at the kid. "Night."

"... Goodnight, Jason."

#dc comics #batfam #jason todd #red hood #damian wayne #robin #dc #jin writes #fanfiction

[euphiea]

I'm still waiting for part 2. of the anchor (jisoo x reader)

anon did you give it a name *}*}+]£{€}~* I AM SO WEAK

a/n (07/31/22): IM SOOO EXCITED TO FINISH THIS. It’s been months sorry

pairing: kim jisoo of blackpink x fem!reader

warnings: degradation, facetime sex, public masturbation

1.

The morning after is just like any other. You wake up with stickiness between your legs, take an hour or three to freshen up, and meet Jisoo downstairs for breakfast.

The penthouse is a comfortable environment, the subtle wealth type. You walk in and it doesn’t seem like much, but the plain vase to your right is worth thousands of dollars.

The windows serve as its own wall, stretch all the way to the high ceiling of the second floor. The view is gorgeous, the best money can buy in Seoul. You’ve never been to any of her other residences, but judging from the selfies and photos she’d send you while visiting, the view is absolutely breathtaking.

Dark mahogany wood floors that are always cool to the touch no matter the weather, black, luxury italian sofa that’s custom made and worth more than your tuition, on the walls are pretty paintings of women, and meadows. Jisoo’s eye for aesthetics is truly admirable.

You brush past the kitchen door and take two long strides to the closest seat at the dining table; your assigned seat, across from Jisoo, who’s chewing a piece of meat and rice, and her assistant, Jennie, whose polite and proper tone hurts to listen to.

She’s a woman of fair height and long black hair, she sports a middle part and rarely wears it in a bun. Jisoo finds dress codes for hair unnecessary, a woman came in with neon green hair and she didn’t bat an eyelash. She took a picture and showed it to you, said the color would look nice on you.

Jennie’s work attire is your typical Friday Morning outfit, blue jeans and a nice, cream colored blouse with white heels. She doesn’t spare a glance in your direction when you walk in or sit down, doesn’t even pause her ramblings to acknowledge your existence. She doesn’t like you that much.

“Applications for the internship program opened this morning,” Jennie says, tapping away at her phone, “So far two hundred people have applied. It’ll be a lot to look through.”

Meanwhile Jisoo’s face is still covered with some white mask, the sleeves of her baby pink fleece robe are pushed up to her elbows, and her hair’s tied in a bun. She doesn’t like to eat after getting dressed.

“Obviously- Fuck!” Jisoo hisses, steam arising from her bosom where coffee was spilled. She snatches the napkin Jennie hands her and dabs at her skin with it.

She’s a messy eater.

You’re watching all of this go down while taking tiny bites of the sunny side egg atop your rice. You’re not planning on eating the entire spread, just enough to settle you until lunch with your friends. Today’s a big day, possibly the biggest day of your life, and it isn’t even the meat of the situation.

“-The boys are in it for the money, the girls are probably- jittering with fucking excitement,” She sighs and places the damp napkin on the table.

“Why do you say that?”

“Tech is ruled by men. Believe me, those boys have an opportunity when they round a corner. No matter how incompetent and insignificant they are.”

She has a point. She speaks from her own experiences climbing to the top, a far but short journey considering she’s still so young. Jisoo’s voice is soft, but it’s what makes her words all the more hurtful. Is that how she would describe you? Incompetent and insignificant?

“Are you going somewhere?”

Jennie’s heels are clacking away from the table as she speaks, so you’re not entirely certain Jisoo’s talking to you until she’s calling your name as Jennie’s coming back.

“Hello? Are you ignoring me?” Jisoo snaps her fingers twice. “You’re gonna eat my food without addressing me?”

You place your chopsticks down. You’re suddenly not hungry anymore.

“Are you sure you should be eating? You have dress fittings today don’t you?”

Jennie’s snide remark morphs your neutral expression into a sour mug. She likes making remarks regarding your appearance, whether it be your face or the clothes you wear. Jealousy can be quite annoying, but you understand. You’d be jealous too if you had to work nonstop for a check, meanwhile a girl that just waltzed in and batted long, false eyelashes gets bags of Cartier dropped on their doorstep.

Her bittersweet tone fits her doll-like features. If you didn’t know any better, she’d easily fool you, trick you into forgetting how despicable she truly is.

Your tongue prods at your cheek. “I’m not the one paying you to be in my business.”

Jennie’s sweet smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “What exactly do you pay for?”

Right, you were anticipating she’d say that. Jennie has a jealousy problem, to keep it short. The necklaces she has to pick up from different stores are the same ones perfectly fitted to your neck. The skirts you wear could cover the bills she pays living in a flat downtown, each skirt paying off another month.

You get paid millions, get so many nice things, everything you could ever want—just for being pretty. Really, the sex work was a mistake, you got drunk on the first night, made Jisoo pass out, and she offered you a number one hundred times your age to do it again.

You have multiple modeling agencies and brands begging for your signature. Though the private school you go to for Fashion is nice, you were just offered a full ride scholarship to FIT in New York, and you’re still so enthusiastic for school. Your publicity ratings were high before Jisoo, but they’ve sky rocketed.

Your outfit for the day, too, for example. A mini dark washed denim skirt with a wide belt snug against your hips. The denim is rough, vintage, and has only a little stretch to it. It’s freezing outside, so you’re wearing white leg warmers with your white camel boots. Your shiny velour cropped jacket is white, and fits snug against your skin. Faux fur decorates the wrists and hem of the hood. On the back in bright silver rhinestones writes BRATZ.

The zipper is pulled down to show off the silver Vivienne Westwood red heart necklace and reveal the soft skin between your tits. Your earrings match the pendant of the necklace. Underneath the fur on your left wrist is an iced out diamond rolex, sitting heavy.

This is actually your cheapest outfit, free except for the two dollar SHEIN leg warmers because they were all gifts from brands. A follower requested this out of you.

You’d be mad too if you were in Jennie’s position.

You eye the woman. “Do you have enough money to brag about spending it?”

Your phone buzzes in your purse—a White Crocodile Himalaya Birkin, delivered to you personally—and you shoot up from your seat. Jennie’s face contorts to a look of disgust. Jisoo hasn’t spoken a word, doesn’t even look the slightest bit of fazed by Jennie’s actions, and it stings. You can handle your own, though, and fairly well at that. That’s all that matters, you suppose.

She didn’t even say good morning to you.

When the front door closes shut and it’s just the two of them, Jennie looks down to her boss, who’s still peacefully chewing a piece of beef. She hums.

“She’s so mean to me.”

When all she gets in response is obnoxious slurping out of a coffee mug, she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms.

“Do you have any idea why? Why she doesn’t like me?”

Jisoo abruptly sets her mug down, white cream sits light on her lips. She stands from her chair; her hips sway as she pads out of the kitchen.

—&—

There is quite the difference between Expensive and Luxury stores. Expensive stores are typical, just about anyone can go in and stay in, if you have a few hundred or few hundred thousand to spend it’s a comfortable experience. Gucci, Prada, Chanel—expensive stores.

Luxury stores, on the other hand, are quiet. You won’t know something is off until you check an item and there are no price tags. Until you find a purse with one and the zeros form their own phone number.

You learnt this whilst shopping with Jisoo for the first time. A store you’ve never heard of, never seen any advertisements for even in the piles of magazines you read for research on the whole sugar baby thing.

When you got there, there weren’t many clothes on wracks. There were a plethora of bags, purses, and shoes, but clothes for the most part sat on black mannequins. You were worried about the clothes not fitting; none of the items you wanted seemed to be your size, and you had already bought five different pairs of shoes.

Well, you didn’t buy it, didn’t even bring your wallet. However, that’s not the point.

When Jisoo returned from whatever small room a manager pulled her in, you told her your dilemma. You could count the seconds on one hand for how long it took for a worker to approach and measure you. Apparently clothes were made specifically for the buyer, the mannequins were just models.

The store was noticeably quiet, the buzzing in your ears was louder than any conversation held in the store.

Luxury is silent. Expensive is just expensive, it’s general, just about anybody can buy expensive.

The store you’re in now is an expensive one. Music is easy on the speakers, necklaces and rings glitter in their glass cases, doing a better job than the lights at keeping the store well lit.

“(Y/N), we’re so early,” Comes the disembodied whine of your friend, Frenchie, “Ooh! Maybe we can have brunch?”

Frenchie is one of your insanely pretty friends, quite popular on her own for her visuals and reputation. She’s 6’2, has glowing, dark medium brown skin that’s always so moisturized. She has a little bit of everything, you’d say. Curvy waist, noticeable pudge in her stomach, thighs thick for her tall body. She has an income comparable to official escorts from stripping, so of course her ass and tits are amazing.

You met three years ago while she was completing an internship with Vivienne Westwood. She plans to start her own modeling agency one day, goes to school at FIT for it. You asked her where she came from, and she said half a house in Golfport, Mississippi.

“So how the hell are you paying tuition?”

“I’m a stripper.”

Together, your friendship added fuel to the fire of controversies surrounding sex workers. You being the private, mysterious character you are kept silent about your thoughts.

You included Frenchie in everything. You love her, and you express this to the world in short videos of your daily life. You go with her everywhere, smile so big with her, sometimes it’s just no context screenshots of your private conversations, like you asking her for her spanish notes.

Funnily enough, Frenchie’s only an exotic dancer. You’re the one licking pussy for money.

You’re currently in one of the store’s changing rooms, shimmying into dresses fitted for you. Days before, Jisoo handed you the list of shops you’re allowed to go to for this dress, demanded that you do not stray from the list.

She sent the stores on the list your measurements, and had three specific dresses fitted for you. You’re on the third store, and so far each dress is absolutely gorgeous. You’re not sure how Jisoo expects you to be able to pick.

Since she was so nice to pay, you take your favorite dress from the trio and keep it for yourself. So far you’ve done this with two stores. A treat, just for fun.

Monty, another friend of yours, grunts. “Man I look good as hell. Should I cuff the ankles?”

“No.”

“The fuck? Is there a fucking issue?”

You met Monty by mistake. He’s a long friend of Tyler The Creator’s, an anonymous painter that gets paid quite the salary for his work. He has thick black locs that flow down his face, has beautiful midnight skin that he takes awfully good care of. Monty’s wealth comes from smart investments and songwriting credits.

You chuckle to yourself before re-adverting your attention to your figure in the mirror. If you had to describe the cut of the dress, you’d only have one word: Tinkerbell.

It sparkles the same, but it’s a deep plum rather than leafy green. The dress comes with two equally sparkling sleeves to match, stopping right at your bicep. Dazzling pearls with a diamond saturn sat in the middle, dangling diamond earrings gleaming. Around your right finger is a diamond ring with a vibrant, deep blue gemstone. Meant to represent Neptune.

You’re in love with it. You’re just not sure if it’s appropriate to wear under a graduation gown.

You hear the rapid buzzing coming from your phone, and you’re quick to dig through your purse and grab it. You answer without looking at the contact, already knowing who it is.

Jisoo stares back at you resting her head on her hand, pretty brown eyes as dark and cold as ever. She’s in her office, this you can tell from the warm early afternoon glow shining so perfectly on her sandy skin.

“Let me see the dress.”

You position the phone to stand straight against your purse, and then back away. You show her the view from the back first, wrist on your hip, eyes looking behind your shoulder. You cooly turn your front to the camera, and take your time dragging your gloved hands up your sides.

Jisoo gives a small hum of approval. “Beautiful. You like this one?”

You nod. “But ‘m not sure if it’ll work.”

The casual conversation in the background drowns out your voice. You’re glad you had enough sense to plug your airpods in before you answered her call.

“Nonsense. It’s perfect. Turn around, I need to see how far it rides up.”

You follow her orders with ease; turn back around, and slowly slide down the front of your legs. A shiver wracks up your spine at the crudeness of it, bending over for your sugar mama in a dressing room.

You don’t mean to be dirty minded. There are times where Jisoo can’t stand how quick your mind is to go to the gutter, but you honestly can’t help it. She’s just so attractive to you. Sure, she’s bitchy sometimes, but it’s easy to forget that when you feel your panties dampening while you’re watching her conduct meetings.

You’d do it a million times over, bending over for her. You wish Jisoo was here to bend you over herself. You wish she wanted to bend you over herself.

“Pretty. Take one step out for me.”

You use your right leg to follow her directions. You don’t feel the dress ride up on your thighs, amazing considering how short it is. Perfectly cut, you’d say. That’s what Jisoo pays for.

“Good. Doesn’t ride up, and it’s little too. It compliments you.”

Jisoo’s compliments are so rare, and so genuine. She’s assertive, speaks them in a way she knows you’ll hear, and never doubt. There was a time she walked in on you curling your wig, and praised you for having a good eye on styling. Yes, praised, because Jisoo’s compliments are nothing short of praises. You love when she praises you.

“Ji-Jisoo..”

“Oh? Already?”

A small, nearly inaudible whimper comes through the speaker, and she remains still, staring you down with the same eyes she greeted you with.

Her silence stretches on, seconds feel like minutes, and as each one ticks by your breath gets heavier and heavier. When your brain, slowly turning to mush, counts to five, you speak.

“I’m wearing.. the panties you bought me.”

Jisoo blinks. Her black bangs fall in her face.

“And?”

You whine. Slowly sliding the glittery dress up your hips, you deepen the arch in your back. Half of you prays she can’t see how bad your pussy is jumping, but the other half knows she knows what she does to you.

When the dress is bundled at your waist, you place your hands on your thighs. Jisoo lifts her head with a low hum, as if bored.

The panties in question came in a set, but you didn’t wear the bra. It’s a deep, crimson red thong, made of soft cotton. The black haired woman squints, immediately causing you to shiver.

“Are you wet?”

“No—“ You gasp, reaching a hand back to cover your pussy, “—I’m not, I promise. I just wanted to show you—“

“—Shut up. Move it to the side.”

You pinch your lips shut. Looking over your shoulder is putting an uncomfortable strain in your shoulder, but you don’t want to look away. You pull your panties to the side as instructed and use two fingers to spread your pussy lips. Her expression doesn’t change, remains blank and bored. She’s watching, though. She hasn’t blinked.

Even in the dim brown lights of the dressing room, your pussy glistens and glitters as it beats.

“Liar. You’re making a mess on your nails,” Jisoo sighs, lays her head in her hand again, “Play with it.”

Eager, you drop your fingers down to your clit.

As the store’s speakers play filler music and your two friends debate on the best place to eat, you’re leaned over a chair, biting your moans into your arm. It’s like a dream come true, you were just wishing for this exact scenario. Well, wishing is an understatement. Jisoo finally putting her issues to the side and touching you is a fantasy in a daydream, from how much you think about it.

Pleasure sits heavy at the pit of your stomach, travels on your skin in the form of a million tiny little ants. The fear of getting caught is too potent to let anything slip, so you bite harder, and pray your setting spray works.

“Whiny girl. Does it feel good?”

Your knees buckle, you use the arm in your mouth to catch yourself, causing a sharp gasp to tumble out. The accident has your cheeks burning hot, hell you can feel the steam blow out of your ears. You bite the inside of your lips as you nod, eyes pinched shut.

“You’re so easy, look how wet your pussy is. Don’t you think you play with it enough?”

Your jaw slacks against your will, you bite to keep your mouth closed. You play with it more than enough, more than you should. You’re always touching yourself, she’s walked in on you multiple times. You can’t help it. Even looking at her sometimes is enough to get you whining. As the pleasure in your gut builds, you press on your clit and slow your pace. Pure bliss wracks your body in waves and you’re rocking your hips by this point. Jisoo watches you chase after it, can tell you’re close just by the way your eyebrows pinch.

“Prettiest girl in the world. Can you make it cum for me?”

It’s becoming increasingly hard to stay silent. Your breath comes out of your nose in short, hot pants. A low moan hums in your throat, and it dissatisfies Jisoo.

“C’mon, baby, do I need to pay you? How much? Give me a number.”

Your body tenses up, and then the feeling that’s been building in your gut suddenly tips over. Your release hits you hard, has your legs visibly trembling.

“There it is, good girl—“ Her voice is so strained, you can’t help but notice it, “—Knew you wanted my money. Look at how pretty that pussy leaks for it.”

A knock on the door causes your legs to give out. You fall to the ground with a shout, and familiar voice on the other side yelps.

“Goddamn girl, you good? Have you picked a dress?”

Frenchie’s voice comes through the wooden doors. You tap your airpods twice to hang up the phone as you slide your panties back into position.

“Yeah, I found one!” You shout, and Frenchie’s head peaks over the door. Her tattooed hands hover over her closed eyes, careful not to touch her long lashes. Of course, she’s taller than the stall door, taller than most. It’s cute, you snatch your phone from behind you with your non-soiled hand and slide over to snap a quick picture.

“Okay, let me know when I can look.”

“Okay.”

You lock your phone, but it lights up again with a notification.

ACCOUNT XXXXXXXXXX228: ₩ 1,302,993,400 WAS TRANSFERRED INTO YOUR ACCOUNT.

When your head finally digests the number, you become consciously aware of the warm cum and wetness beating at your pussy lips.

Face heating up, you cough. “Let’s do seafood for lunch.”

#jisoo smut #jisoo x reader smut #lesbian smut #hide n seek

[lexicals]

[ID: Two images of two character busts, facing in opposite directions at 3/4 angles. The character on the left is a dark-skinned Black woman with dark hair worn in twists tied in a ponytail and dyed in rainbow colours. She's wearing a sunset yellow t-shirt and a burgundy coat with a fleece-lined hood and looking off the page with a nervous smile. The character on the right is wearing a hooded cloak that obscures their face, and a "mask" that looks like the upper part of a skull, with solid pink irises in the sockets. They're looking off the page in the other direction with a strained squint. The first image has the left character labelled as "avoiding her problems" and the right character labelled "problems", while the second image has the inverse, but edited to say "their problems". End ID.]

-

It's funny cause it works both ways

#all art #doodles #grim chances #gc njoki #gc nerine #Once again this is kind of just left of canon but I'm letting it slide cause it's funny

[bloodrosebriars]

A letter is delivered by a courier in white, handed over without a word and with only a bow in tow. They are gone in the blink of an eye, the parchment the only sign that they were once there — as white as smoke, and gone with equal grace.

The paper is warm, sealed with the Blood Lord’s sigil.

Jarrod,

The world above oft thinks me a coward, and this letter shall surely prove those assumptions true. I am a coward at heart, too terrified of his own tongue to face thee eye-to-eye. Afraid of misspeaking, as I so often do. Afraid of letting the heart within my blood sing louder than the one within my chest.

Indeed, there be much I am ashamed of, and even more which I cannot give voice to. ‘Tis a funny thing, really, how words can tangle on our tongues, yet still flow freely through our fingers like grains of sand.

Yes, I am writing, because I am tongue-tied. And even still, I know not what to say.

For I know not what to believe. Thy words have stuck as thorns in my mind, pricking at my beliefs, scarring all that I’ve fought for, spurring a horse upon which sits a rider named Doubt. I have begun to question the very essence of our Dynasty — our blood, or bonds. Our love itself.

I have come to realise I have much to learn.

And I am ashamed. Too ashamed to speak these words to thy face, to hear them echo back to me and taste their flavour on my tongue. But the pen is a mighty tool. And I have chosen to brandish it as a sword against the dragon of my own ego.

I am sorry.

We wind in circles like starving wolves, gnashing our teeth and pawing at snow, arguing over who is right and who is wrong. About love. About blood. About blessings. I am not sure yet if I am even willing to let whatever truths nestle within the feathers of thy words’ breast find home within the branches of my own; but I want thee to know, I have thought much, and come to conclusions that even the most mighty of quills could not compel my stubborn self-image to write.

Perhaps this is unextraordinary news. But it has come to me with much turbulence.

I still have much thought to give, many lessons to practice, and many languages to learn. One day I hope to speak thy tongue, too. And I pray that thou’rt, at the very least, receptive of my own.

But on to the matter at hand…

All the childishness of epiphany aside, I am writing thee to congratulate thee and Rosalind on thy matrimony. Woe is my name, wallowing in self-pity for being kept off the “guest list,” as they say; however, I am hoping thou wouldst allow me spoil ye all the same. Prithee, if thou wouldst allow me be selfish one last time, I do implore thee and Rosalind to join me and my ilk at Mohgwyn Palace for a feast. We shall be awaiting thee tomorrow night, whenever thou’rt hungry, with gifts and glories alike. For indeed, though our dear Rosalind may not have felt comfortable interacting with my Masks and Fingers, they know her — and her cooking! — quite well, and are all pleased to hear of her happiness. (Perhaps I have sung thy praises, Jarrod, too, enough to paint thee quite the hero of amour. My Masks look forward to meeting thee — indeed, meeting the one who nearly shattered the horn in mine eye. But I digress.)

We shall dine upon wild boar, Dominulan vegetables, and the finest Carian wine, all in the name of thy love. For thou deservest every last drop of what we, and our Dynasty, may offer. And I would be a shameful shepherd if I did not share my flock’s feed with a ram of golden fleece.

I thank thee, and Rosalind, for all ye have taught me. And I hope — Gods, do I hope — to remain a friend of thy family no matter how far the tides of time ebb.

With great hope to see the soon,

—Mohg

[ @wanderer-among-undead ]

#[ic] #[drabble] #:] #cries cus he signed it with just his name rather than a title #anyway i hve to be up for work in six hours oops Good Nite

[gaggedwithfleece]

The rich woman who was wearing her favorite, softest, sherpa fleece scarf and mittens saw the masked men approach her and knew she would be kidnapped, as it happened to her often. She addressed the men firmly and confidently. “Look, I know what’s about to happen and if you were not planning to already, I wish to be immediately bound, gagged, and blindfolded. It’s better for all of us if I’m kept that way the entire time. I ask that you please gag me by stuffing one of my mittens in my mouth and firmly pressing my scarf over my lips. Then wrap it up around my head and over my eyes to also make it a blindfold before tying it in place tightly. I also ask that you keep my hands tied in front and take my pants off so that I can use my other mitten to stroke my clit and keep myself entertained, because I know these things usually take several days. The soft Sherpa fleece pressed against my mouth and eyes will be so comfortable that I wouldn’t mind at all having to remain gagged and blindfolded all day and night for a whole entire week if it takes that long. Do we have a deal?”

#Fleece scarf #Fleece mittens #Sherpa fleece #fantasies #Stories

[happymaskshop]

Gray and Silver Festive Snow Flake Winter Face Mask. Double Sided Cotton mask with 3 pleat style, fleece ties.

Shop one of the largest selections of #HandmadeMasks on #Etsy - www.etsy.com/shop/melparadise

#portland masks #mask maker #making masks #mask #mask shop #face masks #happy mask shop #fashion face mask #stylish face cover #cotton face mask #double sided masks #mask with fleece ties #where to buy mask online #where to buy face cover #handmade masks #handmade mask shop #affordable masks #mask sale #masks for sale #snowflake mask #winter mask #christmas mask #gray mask #icy mask

[ddejavvu]

🕷 how’d that get in there? - send me a dark theme and I’ll write about what it would be like with peter! (ex. stalker!peter)

this is kinda a different kind of dark but I've been struggling really bad with depression recently and I use fictional characters characters cope so I was wondering you could do having a bad depression episode with suicidal thoughts with peter

I totally get it if that's too dark

Come celebrate 1.5K with me! Today is Peter Parker day :)

🕷 how’d that get in there? - send me a dark theme and I’ll write about what it would be like with peter! (ex. stalker!peter)

understood, lovey, i hope things get better for you soon. wishing you lots of love :) <33 to anyone who this will upset, please don't click 'keep reading', be considerate to yourself and know your boundaries.

i truly think that Peter would be fantastic with matters like that. He's just always so ready to dote on you, and if you're not up for that he'll keep his distance, but he will help you out when you're having a hard time.

if you're struggling to keep up with personal hygiene he'll take baths with you, or wash your hair in the shower. he mumbles praises to you, pampers you with your favorite products, and makes sure to massage your scalp for much longer than needed, as your head slumps against his chest, your eyes shut as you lean on him. he'll send you little messages throughout the day, or leave you sticky notes with reminders on them like 'try to brush your teeth today, angel :) - 🕸' and he'll have gotten you a children's spiderman toothbrush so that whenever you're brushing your teeth some weird voice actor is blaring through the speaker at the bottom talking about 'his spidey sense' and you're giggling too much to feel gross for a few minutes. he'll help you wash your face and he'll have bought special animal face masks and he gives you the pretty pink bunny and he takes the cute little chick and he ties his hair up in a little scrunchie and you two just sit together and pamper each other and it's the cutest thing :((

he tries helping you pick out outfits each morning, proposing something a little more bold than a sweatshirt and jeans if you're not feeling like putting more than that on. he'll help you spice things up a bit by surprising you with jewelry that matches your favorite shirt, or a pretty new fleece jacket to wear with your pink shoes, etc etc etc, he wants to help you feel better than you normally do and he often does it by fancying your outfits up

he'll try to make sure you guys go out together at least once a day, usually for a walk or a swing around the city if you're up for it, because he wants you to get some fresh air and hear the birds and see all of the pretty flowers that just bloomed across the street and giggle at that hotdog vendor that the stray dog keeps robbing and little things like that, but he's always got a hand on your waist or around yours, if you're open to physical touch like that.

even though he's an awesome superhero, he can't get into your head. he can't stop your brain from tormenting you, but he can try to fight it off when it does. he'll frequently bring over some movies for you to watch, some snacks you both like, and cozy up with you on the couch, and it's mostly silent except for the movie playing in the dark room and his whispers in your ear about how amazing you are to him, how special you are, how much he loves you, and how you're the best thing that's ever happened to him.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #mei's 1.5k follower celebration!! #mei's 1.5k celebration!! #tobey!peter parker x reader #tobey!peter #tobey!peter parker #tobey!peter x reader #tobey!spiderman #tom!peter x reader #tom!peter parker x reader #tom!peter #tom!peter parker #tom!spiderman #andrew!spiderman #andrew!peter parker #andrew!peter parker x reader #andrew!peter x reader #andrew!peter

[haunted-victorian-hermit]

Things that make me a goblin; a compilation.

41 squishmallows, several of which were an ungodly amount of money

9 hermit crabs, in a 45 gallon tank, with proper heating and humidity, and several hides because I love them all to death

At LEAST 2 gallons of candy corn and pistachios, because comfort food

Rock tumbler, because s h i n e y

Like 6 russian nesting dolls, because I needed a new thing to obsess over

A fork collection (10 antique forks)

Harry potter shrine

3 copies of the complete works of ACD

Collection of broken hair-ties because my hair is incredibly thick

Bowling pin (blue and sparkly)

Plague doctor mask

10 no sew fleece blankets because I get cold at night

4 full jugs of hand sanitizer

Ark of the covenant filled with D&D dice

There's more but it's midnight so 🤷

#me #aesthetic #goblincore #goblin #chaotic neutral #hermit crab #chaos #adhd #it mental illness innit #squishmallows #rock tumbler #neurodivergent

[haylanmakesstuff]

Day 17 & 18 of my 21 day Skeksis Costume Build

DAY 17: OCTOBER 26th

           Torso adornments, attaching the hands, reinforcing the head, working on the collar.

1.)    First off today, looks like I’m watching a Tori Amos music video marathon; second only to starting to build the arms on this beast. Here you can see how I have screwed, glued, and taped the handle for Skekso’s puppet arms.

This means I have a way to hold the arms to make them completely movable at the shoulder joint and elbow, like so:

The shoulder joint is just two loop screws that connect to one another with a small screw-shut carabineer. This will let me actually remove the arms for storage, or if needed during driving.

Next is the elbow joint. This is two loop screws connected with a zip tie – I tried it a few ways and this actually gave me the most realistic movement. Sorry for the blurs. 

2.)    Now I attached the hands to the arms. The stuff my nightmares is made of is that a costume I make will fall apart Halloween night while it’s in use in front of a group of spectators. Here is the attached skeleton arm to the hand:

I hot glued (who would have guessed?) (and some Shoe Goo too) the arm end (made up of the clothes wire hangers) where I wanted them before securing it better to make sure the positioning was right. Then I used duct tape to ratchet the bottom down, then zip ties to hold the rest of it on.

3.)    I decided to add some upholstery foam to the handle, and tightly wrapped it in duct tape so I could have a good grip on something comfortable – that will help me stay out in the costume longer and control it better.

4.)    Next, I have to make sure the head has a neck that will hold its (relatively light) weight and also stand up through movement. I made a neck out of PVC pipes, joints, and glue that will go from the helmet into the skull of the head.

To make the PVC neck stay, I filled the area around it with the lightweight upholstery foam to fill in the area and give the pipe something to be glued to. 

5.)    I took a break from the hardware of things and made a few “snakes”. These are bunched, long tubes of materials that hang off of his collar and robes. These are out of the different materials like red velvet, the grey jersey, and gold lame.

6.)    Now it was time to test the costumes progress. I started putting pipe insulator on the arms, stuck the almost done neck into the bike helmet, to make sure it is going to be positioned where I wanted it.

Probably the only time you’ll see Skekso, the great emperor of Thra in plaid fleece pants.

7.)    Since everything checked out, time to make the neck permanent on the head, and the bottom of the neck able to slip in and out of the bike helmet. Here is a shot of the top of the bike helmet, which had a hole drilled/cut in it the size of the neck pipe:

And here is the inside/bottom of the helmet where my head will go:

 DAY 18: OCTOBER 27th

           Sleeves and arms, collar, black mask.

1.)    I spent a lot of time today adding fabric and shape to the collar of the torso, where the head will come out of. I tried to make it as close as possible to the real character, except the accommodations I had to make to see out of the costume. Here are the basic fabrics added; red velvet and black chiffon:

And here is the collar from the back with some of the snakes added. Sorry for the blurs. 

2.)    Now was the time to dress the arms. This fancy material is used a lot on the torso, skirt, and covers the arms. It was a curtain of some kind from a thrift store, luckily it was also huge and perfectly suited. I just sewed and hot glued the material in place, leaving a little extra where I knew the elbow would need it to bend easily.

3.)    The last thing I made today, I would actually consider a waste of time. I thought the flashes of cameras may penetrate my black chiffon window I would see through, and I wanted to be sure everyone’s picture didn’t have my regular old face appearing in it. I knew that in normal light you wouldn’t see it, but you have probably experienced how camera flashes at night can do weird things to fabrics. I made a makeshift and terrible black ninja mask out of an old t-shirt. I ended up using it, but I don’t think it was necessary. 

I wore the costume before any enhancements in February 2020 to a costume contest at a convention and didn’t wear it – the photos were all fine. It’s not the most comfortable as you’re already so restricted, better to lose it.

 That’s all for today! Come back for more posts about my journey through the Northern Oracle to build this Skeksis costume in 21 days. Happy Halloween All Year!

#skeksis #the dark crystal #dark crystal #skeksis costume #skeksis cosplay #dark crystal costume #dark crystal cosplay #cosplayer #halloween #happy halloween #thra #jim henson #creature shop #samhain #homemade halloween #costume maker

[cloveroctobers]

HARRY ZHONG (MITCHELL-WHITE)

IG info/bio: @/heedful.harry | 15.6k followers| hi, I’m Harry and I’m a business major. No, You don’t have to hold your applause 🧐

21 years old

From York, England

Cancer sun + ARIES MOON energy

He and his younger brother, Archie were foster children in the Mitchell-white household

which consisted: Harrison Mitchell and his daughter from a previous marriage, Briony, Piers White and together they had a surrogate carry their child, which gave them their second daughter, Pippa

Later they came to the decision to adopt Harry and Archie Zhong, if only that’s what they wanted too

It took longer for Harry to warm up to the family since he was still waiting and wishing for his mom to come back for them

He was diagnosed with IED around 15 years old

Goes to therapy for it and meetings with others with similar issues...he dreads the meetings since it makes him feel like he has a problem or something, which HE DOES but it makes him feel like a...but he knows that’s a ignorant way to think

He’s currently a business major and loves telling people about it *yawn* (don’t drag me lmao)

He’s thinking he’ll be a Financial analyst or a Marketing manager

The type of person who’s done a lot in his short life that it’s often unbelievable ex.) telling the villa he’s driven one of the cars that was used in the fast and furious franchise & getting pissed when bill and everyone else didn’t believe him

Harrison is a train driver and is normally bubbly + wears bright preppy clothes

He also loves Broadway, much to Harry’s annoyance...if he hears one more Hamilton song he’s gonna slam his head thru a wall stg

Piers is a music producer and is more reserved or “stand-off-ish” until he gets warmed up to you + his aesthetic is a rocker, yeah he’s got the whole tattoos and boots thing going for him, after all he was in a rock band

Piers makes the most $ and is of high status, which brought him and his family perks but is not a snob about it...it’s whatever ya know?

Harry’s closer to piers, feels he understands him more & can be kinda rude to Harrison when he’s in one of his moods but tries to be better at responding to him since he made him cry once years ago — yes he felt like complete shit afterwards

Harry is anemic so he always finds himself cold, experiencing fatigue, irregular heartbeat, and if he gets up too fast or moves too fast? Let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the—FLOOO000R! (I’m making this joke as a person with anemia)

Likes cold weather since everyone else can feel what he feels on the daily

Plus he loves dressing for winter season, trench coats, wool coats, turtle necks, thermal t-shirts, fleece pants, rolled up beanies that keeps his ears covered and his hair glued to his forehead...you name it!

On the regular? He’s a khaki’s kinda guy, dress shirts, and loves wearing suit and ties...he’s not the biggest fan of jeans. He loves dressing fancy unless the measurements are bloody awful

I’m going by the alternative design for Harry and...whew! Then he’s 6’1 if we’re talking about the one they gave us then we all know he has a baby face, so I’d say he’s about 5’8

He’s got long legs + arms and hates how majority of his pants barely fit around his ankles

has dry scalp too

I feel like he’s pretty intelligent and sometimes it can come off as a know it all, yet, he’s always down to help people & isn’t condescending while doing so

He knows how to make soaps and would sell them on his etsy account in highschool where plenty shat on him for it so for awhile he stopped the hobby until Harrison encouraged him to keep at this if it was what makes him happy

Harrison is the type of parent you go to for comfort and hugs even if it might feel like he’s smothering you

Piers is the one who lets you come to him when you’re ready to talk about it, no pressure

Harry went to a high school that focused on technology so he’s all into the latest gadgets

This is a secret but he only got a apple watch to feel like a true spy

His intelligence got him somewhere with a few ladies ;)

He’s a certified freak, 7 days a week and had a handful of hookups and about 4 gfs in his life so far

He’s kinky!!!

& has a f**t fetish

His past relationships were not long relationships, which sucked but Harry felt like...this might sound arrogant, but it’s either their lost — although there was never any bad blood with his breakups! or his person was still out there somewhere...

I haven’t fully played his route (AJ stole my ass since I couldn’t romance seb or Nicky sorry) but I’ve seen screen caps and he’s a total sweetie if he’s really committed to you, you might be his “true love”

He’s nervous opposed to his usual confidence when he’s chatting to other ladies with ease, with you it’s different, it’s magnetic, nerve-wrecking, butterflies, electric, and exciting all wrapped in one

I feel like he shows his love language with quality time but also enjoys physical touch from his partner

Picky eater

But he was worst as a child! Barely ate anything which led to him being lanky or it’s in his genes but mostly he wouldn’t eat a damn thing

These are a few of his favorite things: figs, green tea, and almond milk

makes the best spring rolls with the rice paper, those are superior than fried! “Fried food will kill u u know!” “Okay bill.” “Iona, don’t know if u had too much to drink but, erm I’m Harry.” “R/WHOOOOssssh! And you’re s’pposed to be the smart one, yeah right.”

outside of the villa he found himself continuing his friendship with bill—even tho he pisses him off sometimes since he’s always got some shit to say but they’re probably the closest, Iona she’s always honest and is always a good time to be around when they hang out, Then there’s Camilo and Miki that he hangs out with too

Is the first one sharing about his day in the group chat with all of the villa, he can feel half of them rolling their eyes at him since many feel he tends to exaggerate

if he’s not endgame with mc...he kinda feels a way that Genevieve found her happiness in seb instead of him, it’s not that he’s bitter—he genuinely liked her and felt like maybe they didn’t try hard enough but deep down knows relationships can’t be forced. It’s just his ego trying to control things that’s all! plus he was comfortable with vieve even if it felt more on a platonic side...oh well

once slid into jen from s1’s dms one dark stormy drunk night & admitted on live that erikah kinda gave him some tips before going on the show... & that he thought one of the new girls that entered the villa was a better fit than one of the originals from s2 which caused him to get blocked by said original OOP

Has a circle of close friends outside of the villa, they’re all brainiacs and have something going for themselves

Enjoys action films and biographical drama films like: James Bond, John Wick, and the social network

Isn’t ashamed to admit that he loves using sheet face masks but isn’t the greatest at following a consistent skincare routine

Has his own back massager that he spent a lot of $ on since it wouldn’t go on sale and then a week later...it went on sale

sends a lot of “🙃🙂” texts when you piss him off

probably worked at GameStop, the apple store, Godiva, and currently works at a electronic repair shop for a side of cash but is looking for a internship since he’ll be graduating next year

Always Keeps cough drops on him? 

is a huge cuddler & falls asleep easily

His brain is always active, experiences REM sleep often

fav video games are tekken & hitman

owns a drone now 😏

also loves strategic board games & riddles

Took quarantine life seriously, did his research before it completely broke globally and started buying shit excessively in person and online that he sent most to his family before the campus shut down

Is the friend that will check on his friends :)

Keeps his dorm and his room back home CLEAN af, is OCD about everything being in order/organized. Will know if you touched his shit, Archie felt his wrath many times before

Has a life goal board in his closet, & plans to be fully established by 25. More power to ya Harry!

Celeb crushes: Victoria justice, Jesy Nelson, Deepika Padukone, Brec Bassinger, jasmine tookes, and princess Mae

Who does he listen to? oceanfromtheblue, Galimatias, Ta-Ku, Aries, Tyler, the creator, rich Brian, NIKI, viji, & AJR

Anthem = DPR IAN, “So beautiful”

#litg #litg3 #litg s3 #litg harry #litg genevieve #litg bill #litg seb #litg mc #litg oc #litg moodboard #litg headcanon #litg headcanons #yes I’m still doing these and it’s kinda challenging but at the same time not?

[alolowrites]

Cuddling Through the Seasons

Summary: Fatgum’s cuddles never go out of season

Author’s Note: This is my third story for the @bnhabookclub​’s Hero Camp Bingo event. This was also a request from @bnha-homeroom​ (sorry it took so long!) 

The prompt used was Cuddles and this is my first story for Fatgum. Hopefully I’ll do more stories for this guy because he’s deserves the best. 

Enjoy!

Word Count: 1.6K+

Spring

High in the sky rests the glorious bright sun. It’s golden rays shine through the vibrant pink flowers blooming on every tree, emphasizing their natural beauty. Two birds playfully chase each other in between the branches, their lovely chirps in harmony with the soothing sounds of the gentle stream below—Mother Nature is simply a lady with many hidden talents.

Although the grass maintains a healthy green coat, it too is covered by fresh cherry blossom petals blown off the trees—it adds a beautiful pop to the land. Few people arrive and wander through the peaceful park. Some snap a couple of pictures on their phones, their bodies bent in odd angles to capture that perfect Instagram-worthy shot. Others silently take in the whole scenery with their eyes and save the mental image deep in their memory jar—that’s how you are enjoying today with Taishiro.

Both of you sit under a tree that is different from the others; it’s branches are abundant, and some hang charmingly over the water. A quick wind blows through the park, tugging the delicate petals until one slowly falls to the stream. Everything is serene, almost like an abstract landscape painting on display at an art museum.

Closing your eyes, you sink in deeper into Taishiro’s plump chest. A relaxed sigh escapes his lips as you enjoy your massive pillow. His large arms wrap around you like a snuggly safety belt—they are protective and warm. Your fingers affectionately glide up and down his sweater to the beat of the stream. You hum, “Everything is so beautiful.”

Taishiro leans back on the thick tree trunk and glances at you; he cheekily grins, “That’s ‘cause you’re here, darlin’. The cherry blossoms are a nice touch, though.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re such a cheesy guy, you know that?”

“Yeah, but that’s what you love ‘bout me.”

“That is very true,” you playfully tap his arm, smirking up at him. Another cherry blossom falls and lands on top of your head. Taishiro raises on hand to carefully pluck it off your hair and holds it high against the sunlight. The flower is so soft and just the right shade of pink. He thinks it’s perfect, just like you.

Taishiro shows the sakura petal to you, “Here’s a little present.”

Your heart swells, a tiny blush dusting your cheeks as you reach for the flower. You take a whiff of the sweet aroma and lean back against your living pillow. Squeezing the hero’s hand, you look up to flash him a faint smile, “Thank you.”

You never let go of the cherry blossom petal.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Summer

Far in the distance lies the vast calm sea. Ocean waves creep steadily toward the fine white sand, kissing the land hello before returning outward. Light puffy clouds float along the peaceful cerulean sky, morphing into different images at the hands of your wild imagination. It’s a fun way to pass the time and relax the mind.

You inhale the fresh, natural air—it smells like freedom. The city’s chaotic and bustling streets are an afterthought. The prying eyes of paparazzi and other media hounds are thousands of miles away from your paradise home. The avalanche stress tied with Taishiro’s hero lifestyle vanishes when the two of you step on the warm sand.

“Whatcha’ thinkin’ about, darlin’?” His voice is loud but soothing at the same time. You feel the gigantic teddy bear stand behind you. It wasn’t long until Taishiro traps you into his loving embrace, giving you a quick squeeze. Your toes wiggle into the smooth sand as a sharp wind whistles by; the waves hear it and crash against the shoreline.

“How a place like this,” you nod toward the dancing water, “somehow exists. It’s almost as if I’m dreaming—” You yelp at the slight pinch, and Taishiro roars with laughter. You crane your neck up to glare at him, “What was that for?”

“Well you’re not dreamin’, that’s for sure.” You elbow into his stomach knowing entirely well it did not phase him at all. Taishiro retaliates by hugging you harder, enjoying the delightful squeals ringing into the semi-deserted beach. Other tourists linger around, but the land is so spacious that you barely see them. It’s easy to think you two are alone with all the privacy in the world, an idea that doesn’t exist back at home—a small price to pay while being a pro hero.

In a way, Taishiro is glad this moment is not a dream. It won’t fade away once he wakes up, but will stay in his memory for a long time. Just as you calm down, a mischievous grin crosses the hero’s lips, and his grip tightens around your waist. You had a bad feeling about this and clenched his hands, “Hey…what are you doing—”

“Hold on!”

“Don’t you dare!”

Your words fall on deaf ears as he effortlessly carries you in his arms and charges toward the sea that is waiting to greet you both.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Autumn

Bright yellow lanterns glow above the narrow streets, gently swaying back and forth without a care in the world. Luscious pampas grass decorate the roofs, the creamy-white feathery plumes waving hello to everyone passing through the area. A chubby hand reaches upward; the baby is determined to grab the mesmerizing fluffy grass until something else catches their eye.

An elegant pyramid of tsukimi dango neatly sits on a black plate. There are fifteen white dumplings, each perfectly round and white as the precious moon gleaming tonight. A crowd grows around the delicious display, making it nearly impossible to squeeze through the sardine bodies. Fortunately, the group departs when they see Fatgum approaching with his hearty smile, and you follow closely behind—sometimes being a hero has its perks.

Taishiro greets everyone until a middle-aged man freaks out from his stall, “It’s an honor to meet you, Fatgum! Thank you for keeping our streets safe!”

“It’s no problem really—”

“Please take these dumplings! They’re on the house!”

Taishiro gives you a side-glance, and you shrug. Who were you to deny some free food, especially if they are those moon-like dumplings? You grab the plate from the man’s trembling hands and bow. The hero safely guides you away from the crowd and spots an empty grass field. Plopping down, you dramatically groan, “That was so much walking!”

“Sorry, darlin’! Guess I got a lil carried away,” he chuckles while scratching his forehead. Taishiro takes a seat behind you.  

“I think that’s an understatement, but,” you gleefully raise the plate that barely reached his eyes, “we got free dumplings!”

“They do look good,” Taishiro hums and takes one round treat. You plop the tsukimi dango in your mouth, the rice flavor surprisingly strong, yet pleasing to your tastebuds—it’s a chewy delight. The pyramid crumbles in seconds, and you scoot back to rest your head against the gentle giant; out of instinct, he cradles you in his arms.

A chilly air blows by and makes you shiver despite wearing a cashmere sweater. Taishiro notices and shifts his posture to shield you from the cold—a small act that melts your heart every time. You gaze at the luminous moon until your eyes struggle to stay awake; it doesn’t help that Taishiro feels like all toasty like a fleece blanket.  

It definitely was all that walking, and you yawn before dozing off in his arms.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Winter

Snow showers rain down on your quiet neighborhood. The bare tree branches scoff at the fluffy cotton balls falling from the sky; they barely weighed more than a feather. An hour later, the branches are slouching under the heavyweight and weeping for mercy—but the snow never stops.  

A thin white blanket hides the dull, gray streets and vibrant decorations flourish to their heart’s content. Tiny bells chime once Jack Frost blows a chilly wind down the sidewalks. Thick garlands covered in elegant ribbons stretch for miles on some apartment balconies. And others hung colorful Christmas lights that flicker to a very jolly tune.

In a way, the snow ties everything together to bring out the pleasant holiday mood—it’s simply magical. Two pairs of footsteps, one small like a mouse and the other the size of a giant, imprint themselves on the powdery sidewalk. You waddle toward the apartment with arms bundled around yourself; you’re craving for something warm. Any minute longer outside and your legs will permanently turn into icicles.

“O-open t-the do-or, p-please,” you chatter through your teeth while bouncing nonstop. Taishiro chuckles and you glare at him, making his grin widen more. You barge in once he unlocks the door and dust off the snow on your coat. Hasty footsteps rush to the kitchen so you could warm the teapot as quickly as possible.  

Taishiro shakes his head—you quickly get cold. He relaxes on the couch, not bothering to change out of his Santa costume; if anything, the clothes are comfortable and roomy. You wander into the living room and shiver up a storm. A gloved hand beckons for you, “Come over here, darlin’.”  

Shuffling toward the mellow hero, he pulls you on top of him. Without hesitation, his arm wraps around you to keep you steady. One ear sits above his chest, and you focus on the faint sound of his heartbeat. Not even the Santa costume could mask Taishiro’s alluring honeydew scent, which drives you crazy. You contently sigh, “You made so many kids smile today, hun.”

“I’m glad,” he answers while stroking your hair, “Those kids at the hospital deserve all the happiness in the world, ya’ know?”

“Yeah…” A finger lazily draws out imaginary lines along Taishiro’s red velvet coat. An involuntary shiver runs down his spine. Only your charming touches could make him react like this, and he savors them all. You raise your head and squirm closer to the hero’s face. With loving eyes, you whisper, “You make a fantastic Santa Claus.”

“Fantastic enough to get a kiss from Mrs. Claus?”

“Sure,” you giggle and pull down his fake white beard. As you plant a sweet kiss on his lips, you decide that you no longer needed that nice hot cup of tea.

Third prompt is crossed off. Which one will be next? Stay tune! Thank you for reading!

Previous prompt: Betrayal

Hero Camp Bingo Masterlist

#fatgum x reader #fat gum x reader #taishiro toyomitsu #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #bnhabookclub #hero camp bingo #cuddles #fluff

[chokemeanakin]

Would you write another fluffy Obi piece?? Cause I absolutely fell in love with your first one and that man needs more love shown to him 😫 What about taking care of a sick, tired Obi after a mission?

Thank you for the request! Hopefully it lives up to the first Obi fic I did, idk all I can say is that as an Anakin writer, I tried my best 😅. Enjoy! ❤️

WC: 2.3k

Masterlist

You Can Rest Now- Obi-Wan Kenobi x gn Reader

You had told him to bring that extra fleece jacket. And those thermal gloves, and the hat that covered his ears, and the scarf that wrapped around his mouth and nose, and the insulated boots, and the chill-resistant underpants--

Obviously he hadn’t listened to you.

You were on the rescue craft sent to pick up Obi-Wan and a few of his men, who had been stranded on Hoth after a group of Wampa ate his transport ship for lunch. A rescue had been deployed immediately-- being out in the cold of Hoth for too long was deadlier than a lightsaber through the chest. 

Maybe not necessarily that deadly… but with the way your heart was hammering against your ribcage as you scanned the snowy slopes for any sign of your Jedi lover, it might as well be.

He had been gone for little over a week now, hopping from planet to planet, trying to track down the plans for a secret Separist weapon. And although there had been times when he was gone for even longer, your pulse still jumped when you spotted the small black dots on the horizon. You could feel him, and your heart reached out for him with each second the ship grew closer. 

You were the first one down the loading ramp when it descended, still zipping up the heavy jacket as the harsh wind blew the fur-lined hood off your head. The cold was paralyzing. Just the first couple seconds of being in it was like a slap in the face, and it took a moment before you could remember how to function again. 

You and the group of medics and rescue workers trudged through the thick snow and began to get to work helping frost-bitten and hypothermic men into the ship. You twisted and turned, squinting your eyes behind people’s masks to try and find the only one you were here for--

“You’re here,” you whipped around, the voice warming you to the tips of your fingers despite the frigid cold.

“Obi-Wan!”

In the circumstance that you two were alone, you would have run to him and crushed him to you in a big hug. Alas, you were not alone, and there were eyes on you two, so you had to instead shift uncomfortably on your feet, scanning your eyes up and down his figure to search for injuries.

He didn’t seem to be sick like a lot of his men, but then again it was hard to see anything despite the layers he was wearing. All that was visible to you was a thin strip of fair skin, interrupted by the azure of his eyes. You took his gloved hand and began tugging him toward the ship.

“You must be freezing,” you stated dumbly, mind still trying to work through the sludge of ice your brain was forming into. “I’ve only been out here for a few minutes, and you’ve been here for.. what... hours? I knew you should have worn those chill-resistant Tauntaun ponchos, but no. They looked “tacky and ridiculous”. Isn’t that what you said over hologram? Only you would choose fashion over safety. I bet you regret it now, huh?”

“Does working your mouth keep you warm?” Obi-Wan quipped. There was no resistance as he let you drag him into the ship, ushering him to your personal quarters. “If so, continue on my behalf. I would hate to see you catch a cold.”

“Oh, I will,” you promised. “Just as soon as I make sure your limbs aren’t going to fall off first. Sit.”

Obi-Wan’s icy eyes glanced wearily to the couch. “I’m all wet. I’ll soil the cushions.”

“Sit.”

He lowered himself onto the couch clumsily, heaving out a breath as he did so. This worried you. Nothing Obi-Wan ever did was anything less than elegant-- even when he was beating the shit out of that four-armed robot with tuberculosis, he did so with the practiced grace of a lithe panther. 

You began with his hands, removing the multiple layers of gloves and throwing them in a wet pile on the floor. When you finally found skin, you were relieved to see that none of his fingers were black, but you still didn’t like the blue and purple tint they had to them. 

You gathered his larger hands in yours, trying to squeeze some warmth back into them, and blew hot breath into your cupped palms. Then you got to work taking his hat off, the scarves, the layers and layers of jackets… it was a process to say the least, and when you were done, you were left with a shivering Obi-Wan in nothing but a skin-tight blacksuit, and a huge pile of sopping wet clothing on the floor.

“I-in a way,” his teeth chattered as chills began to rack his body, “Being n-numb was better than… was better than t-this.”

“It’s a sign that you’re warming up,” you skimmed your fingers across his cheekbone, gaging his temperature. Still ice-cold to the touch, and the white tint to his lips was more than a little alarming. You frowned, then quickly moved away to start a warm shower in the fresher. 

You turned in time to see Obi-Wan struggle to push himself to his feet, failing and falling back against the cushions before succeeding on his second attempt. Now that his face was void of any coverings, you realized just how tired and sickly he looked.

“Did any of the medics check you before I dragged you away?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at the pale pallor of his usually golden skin. Even the sandy strawberry of his hair seemed to wilt, as if the color had been swallowed up by the stark, barren landscape outside.

“I’m alright, d-darling. You’ll come to f-find that I am p-pretty resilient.”

“Pretty resilient my ass, Obi-Wan,” you rolled your eyes. “Someday, your loftiness is going to get you into real trouble.”

“M-my loftiness?”

“And if it’s not that, it’s going to be because you never take care of yourself,” you ignore him, checking the water with your fingertips.  “You’re too damn selfless, is what you are. You don’t realize other people can wait, and don’t need your unbridled attention every second of every day. Yes, there’s a war out there, but you deserve to be saved too.”

In all honesty, you didn’t really mean to begin lecturing him. You were panicked, not liking how quiet and subservient Obi-Wan was being. There was definitely something wrong with him, and running your mouth distracted you from the possibility that maybe he was injured and was hiding it from you, or maybe something happened that triggered that glassy look in his eyes, or maybe he was actually very sick and slipping between your fingers and you didn’t even realize it…

Obi-Wan sensed your panic, too. Ice met your cheek, and he turned your face to look at him.

“Hush, darling,” his cool breath washed over your face like a gust of flurry-speckled wind. “You’re w-working yourself up over n-nothing. I’ll be alright, I p-promise.”

You zipped your mouth closed and nodded. The bags under his eyes were dark, and you were kicking yourself for adding to them. The last thing he needed on his plate was more stress, especially coming from the person who was supposed to be his oasis of love and comfort. You leaned up and placed your lips over his, aiming to kiss some color back into them. 

“My apologies,” you spoke against the coolness of his mouth. “The water’s hot. You can get in now.”

You left Obi-Wan to shower, throwing all of his clothes into the hamper to be taken away for washing. A protocol droid dropped off a new pair of loose fitting sleepwear and Jedi apparel for tomorrow, as well as extra blankets and some warm foods which you had specially requested.

Steam billowed out of the fresher when Obi-Wan emerged, wrapping him in a ghostly embrace. His skin was covered head to toe in goosebumps, and although a little color had returned to his skin, it still looked as if every step took a huge effort. He sat on the chair by the desk, a towel tied around his waist and another working through the dripping hair on his head. He shivered when he felt your hand on his back, slipping the sleep clothes into his lap.

He got changed as you made the bed with all the blankets and set out the food on a bed tray. When you turned and saw that he was all dressed, you immediately took a fluffy blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders, hugging it into his back.

Obi-Wan laughed breathily, a hand coming up to hold yours over his shoulder, stroking your knuckles with his thumb.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” he said, “But this might be a bit overkill.”

There it was. The nasally sound in his voice. The bleary eyes. The slight sniffle, and the rasp of air scraping into his lungs as he breathed. The precursor to a deep, crackling cough. The bastard was sick, you knew it--

Your hand slammed into the protocol message button.

“RA-7, please send up some cold medicine. And a crowbar while you’re at it, there’s someone I need to bludgeon with it--”

“Y/n,” Obi-Wan groaned. He stood and dropped the blanket from around him like he had done with his robes before battle one too many times, turning to face you in exasperation. “I’m okay, it’s just a little cold. I’ll be better by the time we touch down in Coruscant.”

“Not if you don’t keep this blanket on, you won’t,” you retrieved it from the floor and tossed it around his shoulders again. Then you pushed at his shoulders to get him to sit on the bed, piling blankets higher and higher onto him until all that was visible was his annoyed face and the wet strands of his honey toned hair. A strand of his bangs had fallen into his eyes, so you smoothed it back from his forehead and replaced it with your lips. 

Then you reached for the tray of food and set it atop the mountain of blankets that were smothering Obi-Wan.

“I do hope you’re not planning on spoon-feeding me,” he said.

You were, but then the door buzzed,and you knew the cold medicine was here. You left the tray of food to retrieve the package from the protocol droid, and came back to find Obi-Wan sitting up, still almost being swallowed by blankets, but now carefully spooning soup into his mouth. He was taking care of himself, and the sight dissolved your panic and warmed your heart.

You dropped another roll of bread onto his tray before opening the cold medicine, shaking a couple pills into your palm and handing them off to Obi-Wan, who for once had no witty remarks. 

You sat on the bed next to him then, making sure he had the good pillows before turning to find Obi-Wan holding a piece of bread out for you. You shook your head, pushing it back towards him.

“You eat, I’m fine.”

“Y/n, my love, it’ll make me feel better if you eat as well.”

There was Obi-Wan. Even sick and tired and on the edge of hypothermia, he was still looking out for others. So selfless, so giving, so good. You took the bread and bit into it to make him happy.

Once you had finished the bread, he began passing you various other tidbits of food even though you insisted you had already eaten. Meanwhile, he could only manage half the soup before he became too tired to continue. You took the tray away and set it on the bedside table, then turned the lights down and got into bed beside him again.

“Are you warm now?” you smoothed your hands through his damp hair as he lay back on the pillows, sighing deeply at the soft touch.

“Very.”

He was still sniffling a bit, and the raspiness of his breath was increasing with each minute. But he was on the verge of sleep, and rest was exactly what he needed to feel better. 

You set your head down on the pillow next to him, ghosting your fingers over the delicate skin of his closed eyelids, down the slope of his cheekbone, caressing the downy hairs of his beard. He nuzzled his face into the warmth of your palm, inching closer to you.

“You can rest now,” you told him, and he hummed sluggishly in response.

Despite the sheer amount of blankets on him, Obi-Wan began to shiver once more. You’re not sure if the bone-deep cold was setting in again or if it had something to do with his illness, but he kept shifting toward you, yearning for more of your touch.

You took the hint, slipping under the blankets yourself and wrapping your arms around his quivering body the best you could. To see this man-- this renowned Jedi Master, General of the 212th legion of the Republic army, and prominent hero of the Clone Wars-- so weak and fragile and wilting under your touch… it broke fissures into your heart. You tightened your hold on him, crushing him against your body like you could absorb all of his pains and woes and replace them with warmth and comfort instead.

You felt down the length of his arm, up and down, up and down, and with each pass you tried to memorize every dip and curve of his body beneath you. You were hoping to rub some warmth back into him this way, or at least soothe him to sleep if all else proved fruitless, and it seemed to be working. After a while, his shivers subsided and the fingers clinging to the shirt on your back relaxed, as did his face.

He was peaceful now, breathing deep and even as he got the rest he rightfully deserved. You held him close to you, wishing for time to slow so that he could stay with you like this forever.

#obi wan x reader #obi wan fic #obi wan fluff #star wars fic #obi deserves to rest #he also deserves hugs #btw sorry i had reader sorta bitch him out it annoyed me too #but i cant help the way i personify them for some reason... #i dunno if you want reader to be fluffier then lmk and i can try again

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