college anakin who lives in the same co-ed bulding as you, and when you and your roommate get in a huge fight, you walk down the hall to knock on his door first. you've been friends since freshman year even though he can be an ass sometimes - it's never towards you, so you two get along good.
hey, you okay? he asks, clearly confused, but not annoyed. your eyes are red from crying during the fight.
i'm so sorry ani, look... can i stay here tonight? you can totally tell me to fuck off, i can go somewhere else. you tell him, silently begging him to just let you rest in his room. he got lucky this year and got a single room, and the couch is unbelievably comfortable - even moreso than your twin bed.
yeah, come in he doesn't hesitate or even ask why, just moves out of the doorway and lets you in. it's clear that he was in bed before, and maybe even sleeping. the blankets are messy and the tv is on, but quiet. his hair is messy, and he obviously threw on sweats to open the door, with the way one cuff is awkwardly caught around his heel and they're low on his hips.
i'm so sorry you keep saying in the dim light, his room only illuminated by the television. he shushes you and moves a blanket and a pillow to the couch.
tell me what happened. he instructs, and you sigh, then dive in, explaining the huge argument. how it started, why it started, and how it ended in you walking down the hall to his door. he doesn't speak over you, just listens and furrows his brow more and more as you tell him the things she said to you.
so yeah, i don't know. i just couldn't stay there tonight. i didn't wanna sleep in my car, thanks for letting me crash anakin. you finish with a big exhale, finally looking him in the eyes for more than just a second or two. he's exhausted, that much is clear. it's midterm week, and he cares way more than he lets on about his grades, so you know he's been working hard.
you can stay a couple nights if you need to, until you can talk to the housing department. you're not staying with her anymore. he tells you, resting a hand on your back, and you lean into him just slightly. your roommates words echo in your head.
thank you. i'll talk to them tomorrow after class. you tell him, starting to lay down on the couch, but anakin gently grabs your wrist to stop you.
you take the bed, i'll sleep here, don't argue with me either just go get some rest okay? he says, stopping you from denying his offer before you can even get the words out. you go back and forth for a second, but he wins the debate, and you climb into his double bed, warmer and softer than you could've guessed. you mumble goodnights to each other, but you lay awake. ani and you have shared a bed before, once at a party out in the county, when it was either share a bed or one of you take the hardwood floor. and once when you were both the tiniest bit tipsy, and hooked up last school year. the longer your body keeps you awake, the more you crave some form of comfort. tossing and turning can only keep a girl sane for so long.
ani... are you awake you ask after what feels like hours.
yeah, unfortunately he grumbles back. it's pitch black in the room now.
can you just come lay with me, this is stupid you ask, scooting over to the wall in anticipation of his approach. he doesn't reply, but you hear him get up and walk over, then feel him get under the comforter next to you, then wrap a strong arm around you and pull you into him, so he's completely enveloping you. it doesn't take long now for you to fall asleep, with his chest against your back, arm tight around your waist. you don't know what's coming next with your living situation, but it doesn't matter so much now.
inspired by this post written by @little-miss-vader
★ ━━━━━━━━━
Anakin had known you for years now. To him, you were like a small flower bud, full of potential yet uncertainty and fragility — without a guarantee to ever be able to fully bloom in this war-ridden world.
He made it his duty to always watch over you, even if he knew that you could handle yourself. He would tend to your needs and wants whenever possible.
Anakin wanted to be the sun that shines upon you, the oxygen you breathe, the nurturing soil you would be rooted in.
As time went by, he witnessed you blossoming into the most beautiful flower he could have ever dreamt of. Not only did you bloom — his love for you did as well. It felt like the first day of spring after a harsh winter. A revival of what he had lost to the cruel realities of his life. Warm and playful feelings that made enduring everything worth it.
Now, he would do anything to keep his precious flower from wilting, to keep the spring he felt in his heart eternal.
★ ━━━━━━━━━
reading that post gave me SO much inspiration and even though most of it was angsty stuff, i came up with this as well. my thought process was basically „oh he would appreciate it if he was a flower? consider this“
ALSO this is the first time I‘ve ever posted any of my writing online,,,,
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Kitster Chanchani Banai & Anakin Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker & Shmi Skywalker (minor)
Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano, Shmi Skywalker (mentioned), Kitster Chanchani Banai
Additional Tags: Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - Sith (Star Wars), Jedi Order Replaced by the Sith (Star Wars), Anakin Skywalker Raised as a Sith, Ahsoka Tano Raised as a Sith, Come on that has to be a thing, Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano Are Siblings, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Everything in this reality is pretty screwed up, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Family, Friendship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Dark
Summary:
The Sith Council told Anakin his apprentice was lost, but it wasn't enough to make him stop looking. It's been months since they last saw each other. The galaxy hasn't changed, but they have. Anakin was nearly executed for treason by the Sith for assisting in the escape of the ex-Chancellor, a hidden Jedi, and it's the last Ahsoka knows before becoming a slave on Zygerria.
Here's our fill for the square "accidental marriage". :D
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
It’s supposed to be a simple undercover mission, gathering intel to see if the leadership of the planet of Luna XI is intending to join the Separatists. It becomes decidedly not simple very, very quickly, when the Lunians realize that Echo isn’t Anika Skywalker’s personal droid, but a human. Thankfully, or maybe not, they don’t realize the true nature of their relationship.
I had this little silly idea of Obi-Wan ending up reporting back their latest progress to the council during one of their missions literally sitting on Anakin's lap. Because Anakin insisted on not letting Obi-Wan stand for one second longer than needed after they had taken refuge in an abandoned and shabby building during a hard and extensive battle where their men had suffered many injuries, Obi-Wan had also managed to injure one of his legs.
So Anakin being himself wouldn't let go of him and literally drags Obi-Wan to sit on his lap during his call with the council. Obi-Wan knows he can't win this silly battle and gives into his exhaustion and lets himself rest just for a few minutes, while he is also easing Anakin's anxiety and stress by gently stroking his hair or rubbing circles on his back and it works wonders because Anakin almost seems to fall asleep and that makes Obi-Wan smile fondly at him when his head hits Obi-Wan's chest, his hair tickling Obi-Wan's neck, as he is talking and Anakin's arms begin loosening around his waist.
Meanwhile the entire council are preparing themselves for a long kriffing lecture about attachments for their sweet return home. Obi-Wan surely senses that but as Anakin starts to fall asleep against his chest and his breath evens, his body starting to relax, worrying about the council is one of his last priorities while his apprentice and his men are stuck on this godforsaken hell of a planet.
Could I ask for some quick little hc’s on the reader getting hurt on a mission?
I just need worried and protective Ani rn 🥺
Thank you Butterscotch 💞💝
Anakin x Reader Who Gets Hurt on a Mission Headcanons
Warnings: I mean talk of injuries but no in depth ones discussed. Mainly just protective and worried Anakin with some soft Ani thrown in there too because I physically think I’m incapable of not adding that.
Words: 1.3k
A/N: Yes my love of course!! I love worried and protective Ani <3 I know you said quick little headcanons but I fucking love protective!Anakin and the getting hurt on a mission thing is one of my favorite tropes lmao so this kinda took on a life of its own.
gif credit i really like this gif- like a lot-
Okay first off Anakin is already so protective. He hates that you’re in dangerous situations when you go on missions and he hates it when he can’t go with you. That being said, he knows you’re powerful and competent and he would never doubt your abilities as a Jedi.
Honestly, his protectiveness says far more about him than you. He’s not worried that you’re not strong enough; he’s worried he’s not strong enough. If you get hurt, he thinks he failed somehow.
As soon as he sees you get hit, he’s there in an instant. If it happens in the middle of a battle, getting you to safety is his main priority. He’ll scoop you up in his arms and get you out of there immediately.
If it’s more like someone hurts you directly, like a one-on-one thing, he’s going insane. Picture someone stabbing or hitting you to the point where you’re unconscious and bleeding on the floor. Anakin immediately flashes back to losing his mother, to when he wasn’t able to save someone he loved.
He will kill them if they’re still a threat to you. If not, it’s not like he’s letting them just walk away. He’s infuriated. He first steps in front of your body, shielding you from them. And he’s livid, he’s glaring at them and anyone could tell he’ll fight to the death for you.
His lightsaber ignites, illuminating his enraged expression and they just know they fucked up.
Even so, you are his priority. Revenge never comes first when it’s between that and keeping you safe. His thought process is: deal with danger as quick as I can so I can go make sure they’re okay.
He runs up to you and, if you’re unconscious, he’s gently trying to coax you awake. He’ll whisper softly, all “Can you hear me?” “Open your eyes for me, baby.” “Please, Y/N, please let me see your gorgeous eyes.” “Come on, angel, let me know you’re okay”
His eyes are scanning your body, looking for any possible injuries that he needs to attend to.
Regardless of what the injuries are, he’s picking you up. He’s not letting you walk or put any pressure on any parts of your body.
He scoops you up as gently as he can and moves as evenly as he can while rushing you back to the ship, trying not to jostle you around too much.
If you whimper or hiss in pain from the movements, he looks at you so apologetically and whispers an “I’m so sorry, just a little longer, okay?”
And you’ll nod at him with tears in your eyes and it just makes his heart ache. He hates knowing you’re in pain and that he wasn’t able to stop it or take it away.
When he gets you back to the ship, he’ll lay you down and try to attend to your injuries as best he can. He’ll grab some gauze and bandages and wrap your wounds, desperate to stop the blood loss. If there aren’t any supplies, he’ll just rip parts of his shirt off to use as bandages. After he did that once you secretly hope they forget the supplies again because-
After he finishes that, you’re normally really cold and exhausted from the blood loss. He wraps you up in all the blankets they might have and pulls his Jedi robe off and puts it around you, too. He knows it brings you comfort and, honestly, it’s really fucking warm.
He talks to you to try and keep you awake. He’ll tell you stories and although he tries to be strong for you, you can hear his voice shake and his words become faster, sure signs that he’s fucking terrified.
That’s honestly what gets you to stay awake, more than anything else. You don’t want him to panic. You’ll try to hold his hands, if your injuries allow, and constantly move your thumb against the back of his hand as he does the same to you. The constant movement reminds him you’re alive and conscious and okay.
As soon as you land on Coruscant, he immediately brings you to medbay. He doesn’t care, you can complain about how much you don’t want to and how you’re fine all you want, he won’t hear it. He got a little upset once because you were desperate and said “please, Ani, please don’t make me go. I just want to go back to our bed and have you hold me. That’s the only thing that could make me feel better right now.”
He was upset because he hates turning you down, especially when you ask like that. The only time he’ll turn you down is if he’s trying to keep you safe.
He tries to force them to let him stay with you as they run diagnostics, literally yelling out and attempting every trick in the book. Even so, it doesn’t work. They calmly tell him to go sit in the waiting room and they’ll get him when the tests are finished.
He watches them take you away and he paces in the room, chewing on his fingernails and running his hands through his hair in worry. He normally somehow ends up finding his way into a chair and he ends up breaking down. He’ll have his head in his hands, tears streaming down his cheeks as he prays to the Maker that you’ll be alright. He’d do anything, so long as you’re alright.
When they finally call him back, saying your tests are done he’ll run back into the room. You see his disheveled appearance and bloodshot eyes and you immediately reassure him that you’re going to be okay.
As soon as he can take you home, back into his arms you go. Once again, you’re not walking, so don’t even try it. Further, he just wants to hold you. You normally kind of turn your head into his chest, embarrassed that he has to carry you through the Temple where anyone can see you in this weakened state.
Meanwhile, Anakin is staring daggers at anyone who even attempts to look in your direction. His arms tighten around you, keeping you close and you’ve honestly never felt safer.
He gets you back to the apartment and gently places you on the bed. He looks you over again, just making sure they didn’t miss any of your injuries before he pulls the covers up and comes next to you.
He’ll get you some water and a bit of food, wanting you to get something in your system to help replenish your body. He stays with you the whole time, making sure you eat and drink at least a little bit.
Even though the medical droids helped, you’re still in pain and he tries to help in whatever way he can. He can see your eyes screwing up as you try to move and get comfortable in bed and he’s just “I know it hurts, baby. I’m so sorry, here, let me help you, okay?” “What can I do to make it better”
He helps you get settled, pulling you with him in his strong arms until you find a position that allows you to sleep.
Sometimes you’re shaken up from getting hurt. You’ll tell him how afraid you are or, more frequently, he just knows. He tells you “You’re safe now, my love.” “No one’s going to hurt you ever again.” “It’s okay, I took care of them, it’s okay.” “Look at me, angel. They’re gone, alright? It’s just you and me, right here, safe.”
As you drift off, he reminds you how much he loves you and you say it back. He’s always the big spoon on those nights. He puts himself closest to the door, shielding your body with his.
Nights after you get hurt are always very special. He holds you to him as tightly as he can, granted this is mostly dependent on your injuries. And you just love it. You feel safe and he feels like he can keep you like that.
Basically, if you get hurt on a mission, Anakin’s got you. And an enemy has to be pretty stupid to try and hurt you. Not only are you exceptionally badass, but if they somehow get to you, Anakin will hunt them to the ends of the galaxy to ensure they never harm you again.
----
the link to join my taglist is in my pinned! if you would like to be taken off/edit your response in any way please dm me or shoot me an ask <3
ao3 link :) (also the word count for my sicktember book on ao3 is exactly 5678?? why do i find that so funny??)
from this list of prompts
Day Seven: Sneaky Temperature Check
Title: the chance isn’t worth the risk (especially when it’s you)
Word Count: 425
...
Dirt and grime stick to her like a second skin; Anakin is about ready to order her back shipside when she takes her place next to him as they camp around the fire.
The air is cool, humid day bleeding into a muggy dusk; he can almost feel the water droplets in the air.
A few members of Torrent Company are lounging around their little haven; it’s not every night that they can build a fire — they attract too much unwanted attention — but the sky is foggy and the wind is picking up just enough that the fresh and wet smell of an impending storm drifts under his nostrils and takes the scent of smoke with it on its journey.
“You hanging in there, Snips?” he presses subtly.
She’s sick; they all know it. It isn’t very hard to tell when her voice is nasally and every few words are accompanied by a torturous sniff.
She rubs her nose.
“I’m doing fine, Master,” she lies straight through her teeth.
Anakin purses his lips. He can see the exhaustion haunting her eyes, the dark circles stamped onto her skin; can feel her once clear Force signature become fuzzy and discontented.
She sniffs, and it snaps Anakin out of his brooding.
He eyes her out of the corner of his eye; she’s not doing well, he can see it in the slumping of her shoulders and the dropping of her eyelids.
She needs to see Kix; a cold isn’t such a big deal — until it is.
Before he even realizes what he is doing, his hand is extracting itself from his robes, and he is touching his fingertips to her forehead.
She snaps up indignantly, and Anakin withdraws his hand.
She is burning.
“What are you doing?” she demands.
“There was a bug,” he finds himself blurting, and Ahsoka glares at him, unamused.
“Uh huh, sure, Skyguy.”
And of course, there wasn’t a bug — but she doesn’t need to know that.
“Yeah, Snips,” he nods, serious. “Luckily, your fever was hot enough to ward it off.”
It’s pointed and derisive and Ahsoka freezes.
“I don’t have a fever.”
Anakin meets her eyes, challenges her. She glares right back.
“Oh yeah, Snips?”
She tilts her chin up in defiance.
“Then let me check again, if you’re so sure.”
Ahsoka's montrals flush a vivid blue, and Anakin raises his eyebrows.
She looks away.
“Kix,” Anakin says, any hint of his past playful derision long gone. “Now.”
Maybe I got a little carried away with this but I just love some soft Anakin like he has my whole heart. Bit can I request an imagine where the reader and him are training and he he hurts her by mistake (but not in a serious way even though he could cut my arm off and I would say thank you) and he gets all soft and like 🥺 But the reader reassures him that nothing has happened and to make them both smile again she goes trough his soft hair and braids it a bit. Is that even a request? 😂
Yes maam, anythings a request if you’re brave enough 😉 enjoyyyyyyy 🤗❤️
Masterlist
Read it on ao3
WC: 2.4k
He Kicks Your Ass And Then Lets You Braid His Hair - Anakin Skywalker x gn Reader (whump +fluff)
“I hope you’re not getting tired on me,” Anakin smirked, spinning the training saber in his hand.
Sweat dripped down your forehead and into your eyes. You were panting, fingers slipping on the wooden hilt of your own training saber, heart racing in your chest. You had told Anakin not to take it easy on you during training today, and he sure took that statement to heart. There was a reason he was dubbed a master swordsman after all, and you were just now beginning to understand why.
“Not yet, I’m afraid,” you lied. “Unlike some people, my stamina lasts more than 5 minutes.”
Anakin’s smirk twitched at this, and from the flicker in his eyes you knew you had irked him.
“I think you and I both know that’s not true.”
“We do?
“Y/n,” Anakin took a calculated step forward, head tilted tauntingly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were asking me to prove myself.”
Wood on wood clashed, and you began blocking each offensive blow he sent your way, double the speed of before. He was everywhere at once— swinging left, ducking right, striking down, and then suddenly behind you—
You twirled with him around the training floor, shifting your feet as if in a dance. He was doing a lot of spinning with his saber, twisting and pivoting on his feet like a ballerina. So graceful, powerful, and precise. He also may have just been trying to show off a little bit, but you didn’t have enough breath in your lungs to voice these accusations.
He pushed you back, back, back, and your feet struggled to stay under you as he bore down with all his strength, a competitive fire flaring up his eyes. You put up your best fight, but your arms were shaking and your legs were weak and your throat was in much need of some water. You were just about to call it when you stumbled, his saber pushing all of your weight into the fall, and you were unable to catch yourself.
You hit the ground hard, a sharp, throbbing pain bursting to life around your ankle. It had crumpled under your weight, bending at an odd angle, and the resulting “pop” was audible throughout the entire training room.
“Fuck,” you gasped, bringing your knee up to your chest. You rocked back and forth, squeezing at your shin as the pain travelled upwards.
Anakin immediately dropped to he knees beside you and went to touch you, then stopped himself, unsure of what to do.
“I’m okay!” You grit through your teeth before he could say anything, tears pricking at your eyes. “I’m okay, it’s fine, I’m good.”
If you hadn’t been so focused on the blaring pain from your ankle, you’d be overwhelmed with emotion due to the guilt in Anakin’s eyes.
“Where does it hurt?”
You rubbed a hand up and down your shin, trying to dissipate the stinging sparks, to no avail. “My ankle. I think I might have sprained it.”
“Let me see.”
He got to work untying your shoe, and then gently coaxed it off your foot. You bit down on the insides of your cheeks hard as he did so, tasting the faint metallic of blood. It hurt terribly, no matter how careful he was being, but you didn’t want to cry out in fear of making him feel worse.
Once the shoe was off, he pulled back the edge of your sock and frowned deeply, feather-light fingertips creeping over the swollen, bruised skin of your ankle.
Definitely sprained.
“Y/n, I’m— I’m so sorry. I got carried away, I shouldn’t have pushed so hard, I should have been more careful—“
“Please, none of that, Anakin. It wasn’t your fault.”
“It was, I should have known better—“
“It’s okay. I’m not going to die, I promise.”
Anakin huffed out a breath, unable to meet your eyes. The minute he opened his mouth, you knew what he was going to say.
“Y/n...”
“Force, just shut up and help me stand already.”
He had enough sense to keep quiet, lifting you under the arms so that you were standing upright. Slowly, you shifted your weight onto your injured ankle, testing it. Piercing sparks of pain burst up your shin at even the slightest pressure.
Anakin caught your wince, carrying most of your weight on him as he helped you limp out of the training room.
“Let me just carry you,” he begged, hands tight around your ribcage. “It’s a long walk to the medcenter.”
“I’m not going to be swaddled like some baby because of a sprained ankle.”
He relented, aiding you in your slow journey through the halls of the temple. Your breathing grew thicker and thicker with each agonizing step you took down the hall, your throat closing up due to the pained tears threatening to spill over. All you could think of was how far away the medcenter still was, and how much it hurt, and soon you were signaling him to stop, unable to continue any further.
“Alright, that’s it.” Anakin decided, sweeping your legs out from beneath you. He lifted you into his arms, walking at a brisk pace and clearing the halls much faster now that he was carrying you.
You held onto him with an arm around his neck, staring at his collarbone so you didn’t have to see all the looks people were shooting your way. Once you got to the medcenter, he dropped you off with a medical droid and promised to wait for you out in the waiting room.
The whole ordeal left you grumpy and peeved and more than a little tired. They poked and prodded at your aching leg, bending it this way and that to see what hurt more. All of it hurt, you told them, but apparently that’s not the answer they were looking for.
After the x-rays showed no signs of a break, and you had sworn up and down that you would rather be captured by Dooku before wearing that clunky black boot, the medical droids set you loose with a bag of ice and a bottle of pills.
The look on your face had Anakin stifling laughter as they wheeled you into the waiting room.
“I asked them for crutches, but they said they were already being sent to my room.”
Anakin had the decency not to say anything as he got behind the chair and wheeled you back out into the hallways of the temple. He took you back to your room, reaching over your shoulder to put in your door code before carefully maneuvering the chair through.
You breathed a sigh of relief at being back in your apartment. The lights flicked on, and Anakin turned from closing the door to find you pushing yourself out of the seat, struggling to stand without putting any pressure on your right ankle.
“Hey, what are doing? You’re not supposed to be walking.”
“I’m fine,” you hopped over to the wall, grasping at it to keep balance. The movement jostled your ankle and you bit down on your cheeks again to keep from groaning.
“Force, you’re stubborn,” Anakin fit his arm around you again and helped you into the bedroom. All you wanted to do was sit in the fluffy blankets, pop some painkillers, and maybe take a nap.
You held yourself stable around his neck as he pulled the blankets back for you with one arm, supporting your weight with the other. Then he lowered you onto the bed, letting you slide your injured leg onto the pillow he set out for you at your own pace.
You winced as you lowered it down, your ankle throbbing with a deep ache at the point of contact. It took some shifting and adjusting before it was comfortable enough to handle, and then immediately reached for your pain medicine.
“Have you eaten anything today?” Anakin asked, reading the label on the bottle before handing it off to you.
“Breakfast, but seeing as how it’s almost dusk...”
You knew you shouldn’t take the medicine on an empty stomach, so Anakin left to make you some food. Suddenly left alone and to your own devices, you looked around the room and realized you had nothing— nothing— to do. Even the holonet remote was just too far out of reach for you to grab.
You pouted, twiddling your thumbs in your lap, occasionally glaring at your taped-up ankle. If only you’d been quick enough, strong enough, good enough to dodge his attack, then you wouldn’t be in this position. Your ankle throbbed with pain in time with your pulse, mocking you.
Anakin returned with some food, and you took a few bites before downing the pills. He was fidgeting. Going around the room and adjusting the blinds, picking up loose scraps of clothing, dimming the lights, and adjusting your pillows. You watched him as you chewed, knowing he was doing this because he felt bad and didn’t know how else to help, but also suddenly very captivated by his hair.
It just looked so... floofy. Freshly washed, loose curls bouncing as he walked, golden highlights peaking through when he was faced with the sun. You bet it felt soft, and the urge to plunge your hands through his silky tresses had your fists clenching around your glass of water.
Swallowing the last bit of food, you set the water aside and then pushed yourself so that you were sitting upright against the headboard. Anakin was two seconds away from disassembling your entire damn alarm clock— the one you’d mentioned hadn’t worked in three months, and were pretty sure he could fix it in less than a minute. But you didn’t really care about a broken alarm clock, and all you wanted was for him to stop feeling so bad about something that really wasn’t his fault.
“Anakin,” you sing-songed. “Could you please hand me the remote?”
He immediately dropped the clock and reached for the remote, slipping it into your outstretched palm.
“Wanna watch tv with me?”
He eyed your hopeful smile wearily, but got into bed next to you anyway, careful not to disturb your leg. You saw him focus on it for a second too long, the churning guilt back in his eyes.
The holonet flicked to life, and you put it on a show that you loved to watch in your free time. Then, you pulled Anakin down so that he was lying with his head in your lap.
He wanted to question what you were doing, but decided it was best to just let you have your way with him. He blamed himself for putting you in so much pain, so anything you wanted he was ready to give. Even if it meant... playing with his hair?
You spent more time focusing on running your fingers through his hair than on the actual holonet show. You were right— his hair was soft, so unimaginably soft, and with each pass of your hand, his curls got all ruffled up and messy.
It was soothing to both you and him equally, and before long he found himself closing his eyes at the sensation. You went through, carefully detangling any knots and wrapping particularly curly bits around your finger to watch them bounce when you released them.
You noticed that the ends of his hair were getting a bit long, maybe even long enough to twist into a hairstyle. You thought about giving him space buns, or maybe pigtails, but you didn’t have any ponytails so you had to settle for something else.
“Can I braid you hair?”
His head was turned so that he was facing the tv, but you saw his eyebrows raise, eyes still closed.
“Mmm...” he thought. “Sure. Why not.”
You grinned victoriously, getting to work separating his hair into two sections. You started at his bangs, twisting them into each other and adding hair as you went down. His hair was soft and smooth as it slid through your fingers, shining a chestnut-honey in the dying light of the window.
It was also surprisingly thick, and you were able to get the first braid to end just past the edge of his jawline. It reminded you of Ahsoka’s horns, and your chest warmed at the fact that he actually very much was able to pull the look off. If anything, with his hair pulled back it just accentuated his immaculate bone structure.
The other side was a little harder to do, as his face was pressed against your thighs, but with a bit of adjusting you were able to complete the other braid. Once you finished off the second pleat, you turned his face to look at you.
“Why’d you stop?” He mumbled, half asleep in your lap, and your heart melted. Little flyaways curled around his face, and you scratched the back of his neck lightly, just the way you knew he liked.
His face relaxed, sighing softly.
“You look so pretty right now.”
“Pretty?”
“Gorgeous.”
His nose crinkled slightly, but you could see the faintest blush on his cheeks.
“That’s not very manly.”
You smoothed your thumb over his eyebrow, feeling the ridge of his scar beneath your touch. His eyes blinked open then, slowly and sleepily. The afternoon light hit them just right, shining through them and making them appear a translucent, sea-glass blue.
Yup. Gorgeous was definitely the word you
would use to describe him.
“I’m sorry for hurting your ankle,” he reached a hand up to stroke your cheek with the back of his finger. You caught it and pressed a kiss to knuckles, holding it in both of your hands after.
“How many times am I going to have to tell you, it’s not your fault?”
“It sort of is.”
“Well, I don’t blame you,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “If you really wanna make it up to me, you can keep those braids in until morning. I wanna see what your hair looks like with beach waves.”
He blinked a couple times at you, a confused yet sated smiling curling his lips.
“That’s all it’ll take?”
“That’s all it’ll take.”
Relief chased the guilt out of his eyes. Finally, he looked completely peaceful instead of at war with himself. You smoothed his baby hairs down, and he leaned into your touch as you did so.
Maybe being bedridden for a week wouldn’t be so bad after all.
