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chimielie · 1 month ago

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hold ‘em up (above my heart)

summary: Atsumu x Physical Therapist!F!Reader. the sun rises and sets over and over as your relationship progresses from friends to pro yearners to more.

wc: 4.3k

cw: friends with benefits subplot and all that entails; not explicit, just suggestive, reader is fighting for her LIFE in her brain, atsumu is just chilling (not really)

a/n: hi i didn’t die :3

“Hands up,” you say, voice low so as not to disturb the peace of the morning.

Atsumu raises his arms, elbows bent, making a frame of his face. His blond hair is pale, almost white because his little kitchen window faces east and he wakes before it rises above the upper pane. You sidle past him, back to his front, ignoring the weight of his hand as it settles on your hip while you reach up for the granola you keep in the cabinet next to the fridge.

He likes traditional Japanese breakfasts, the savory and umami flavors of natto and rice and miso. You have a sweet tooth and a craving for crunchy food, like a wild animal that needs to grind down its molars. On the days he has work, he settles for an omelette (or scrambled eggs if he fucks it up). You eat the same thing every morning or you'll be sick.

Growing up, Atsumu was never a morning person, but he sleeps better on the nights you're next to him. He doesn't get angry when you slosh milk over the side of his bowl onto his dining table, doesn't snap when you ask him what his plans for the day are. Maybe this is what being an adult is, these steady waters and calm skies.

You don't speak much as you chew, staring into space and thinking the slow thoughts of the exhausted, and he busies himself scrolling through his group messages and social media accounts.

There's a request from a verified account, a retired athlete-turned-model. He knows her name, has seen her in ads, bumped into her at the last Olympics. He clicks on it.

Hey, handsome. I'll be in Osaka this upcoming weekend - let's get a drink!

"I'm gonna shower," you're patting your hair, looking irritated. It always sticks up in the morning, no matter how you sleep on it, a few particular strands defying gravity.

"You should go to work like that," he says, voice still rough even if his mind's woken up. His accent is thicker in the morning, you've told him, but he can't hear it.

"Hell no," you say. "You're the only one who gets to see this morning glory for now."

"I better be," his grin is roguish, running his hand through his own bird's nest. "C'mon, you gonna let me shower with you or what?"

"No, you'll use up all my nice shampoo again!" You fake running to the bathroom, keeping your pace slow enough for him to wrap his arms around your waist and tackle you down, careful to fold himself so that you land on top of him, body between his legs, face cushioned on his chest.

He leaves his phone face up, forgotten on the table.

He's toweling off his hair, dressed in his practice uniform, while you're packing your bag for the day in the kitchen. His apartment is small, way smaller than some of the other guys' on the team, but he grew up crammed into a room with his mom and his brother. He'd toured one penthouse and decided he couldn't live with all that space strangling him.

He'd tried to get Samu to bunk with him like old times, but his brother had just said I'll sleep three meters from your dirty laundry in hell, and that was the end of the argument.

Besides, he has a lot of car bills to pay. He managed to fold another Mazda last month and you've been carpooling in your ancient Toyota while he waits to get license privileges again ever since.

"You got a text, by the way," you say casually, digging through your purse with your lips twisted to the side. "Aha!" You pull out a tube of lipstick triumphantly. "You should respond before you forget."

"Ah, was it Samu?" He asks, crossing back into the bedroom to put away his damp towel.

"Nah, the model," you call. "Sorry, I read your texts."

You're fighting the growing bitterness of the words, trying to sound jaunty and uncaring and casual. The admission of invading his privacy weighs heavily on your shoulders; you can't make yourself look up into his face when he comes into the kitchen.

"I don't care," he shrugs. "You can read whatever you want."

"You shouldn't say that," you try to laugh and wince instead. He just grunts and picks up the phone, swiping away from the conversation and leaving her on read. "I don't have the right, don't I? I shouldn't have—"

"I really don't care," he cuts across your strained attempt at an apology again.

"You should!" You sound like you're about to stamp your foot at him. He doesn't understand why you're so angry; he doesn't bite. "Aren't you gonna get mad? Shouldn't we be fighting?"

"I don't wanna fight," he rubs his large, calloused hand over your shoulder, your upper trapezius, to cup the back of your and pull you into a loose embrace. You stand, dumbfounded, chin pushed into his shoulder, hands at your sides. "Do you? We can if you want to."

"No," you whisper. "Sorry, I—sorry."

"'S okay," he says, digging his thumbs into the tight knots of muscle. "No big deal. Here, you dropped your thingy."

The thingy is the tube of lipstick, a deep berry color, rolling towards the edge of the table. He steps back and squeezes your cheeks in one hands, prompting you to part your lips slightly. He does it how he knows you do, a soft smear on the lower lip and two dabs made sharp by a swipe of his thumbnail on the outer creases, all blended together at the end for a subtle touch of color.

"You look like a frog about to burp," he says when he's done. You laugh so hard you cry.

On the car ride to work, you keep chewing on your lip. He frowns when he notices, all his work bitten off.

You wait for him to get out of the car first, a holdover from the days when you would wait five minutes so no one would notice that you were coming from the same place. In some ways, it's easier that he crashed his car; so convenient that you volunteered to be his chauffeur. He comes to your side, opens your door. You squint at him, jutting your chin out like you're bracing yourself for something.

"I wasn't gonna go out with her," he tells you, a secret between you, him, and the hard asphalt of the MSBY gym's employee parking lot. "Ain't nobody else seein' this in the mornings either. That's all."

He turns around and strides off, leaving you blinking in the morning light.

"Can you move it?" You say, your brows knit together. Hinata grimaces.

"I can bend it, like this—" he curls the injured finger inward. "But it won't stretch out, like this. Ah!"

You release his hand, where you'd applied pressure to the digit. "It's sprained. You're sitting out the rest of practice."

"Aw, but it really doesn't hurt that bad," he protests. You give him a look. "Okay, okay. Can I least do some running and stuff?"

"Do you want to come to practice tomorrow?" You say evenly. He gives you big brown puppydog eyes and you fold like wet paper. "I'll give you some stretches and exercises for your legs that you probably can't fuck up."

"Yay!" He cheers. "Thank you!" He uses an affectionate diminutive of your name with -chan tacked on the end. You laugh and wave him off, walking out of the main gym area toward your office, where you can print him the exercises.

You lean against your desk while the printer huffs temperamentally, taking a long sip of coffee. You should really stop going over to Atsumu's on weeknights, but you've been telling yourself that for well over a year, and it's a lot more convenient since all your clothes and your toothbrush live at his place.

You tell yourself a lot of things when it comes to your blond coworker.

The door to your office slams open and you make an involuntary, high-pitched noise in the back of your throat, focusing hard on keeping the cardboard cup in your hand from jumping with you.

"Sorry, sorry," Bokuto says, his hair drooping dramatically. "It's just really important—Tsumu's hurt!"

You take an inhale so quickly it hurts and burst your coffee cup all over your coat and work pants. Luckily, you take it mostly milk and sugar, so it doesn't burn you, but you don't even really notice it, just shedding the coat and rolling up your sleeves as you stride out the door without hesitation.

Behind you, Bokuto follows, making garbled promises you hear as through water to buy you a house to make up for startling you and ruining your outfit.

You try to take three deep breaths before you enter the gym, knowing you'll be much more helpful calm rather than battling the wall of panic that threatens to overtake you. Atsumu is blocked from your vision by a crowd of his teammates, fluttering around him like a herd of bumblebees.

Iwaizumi is already there, you see with an exhale of relief, ordering everyone around him to stay calm. You motion to the players around him to give him space, hoping your terror doesn't show untowardly on your face, hoping he can feel your singleminded prayer: please be okay.

"Eh?" He has a dopey expression on his face, dopier than usual, anyway. He says your name gleefully, but you're too busy scanning him for visible blood or bone to respond right away. "Nice shirt. Hey, why's your coat off? Were you taking off your clothes in there? Without me?"

"He collided with Sakusa," Iwaizumi tells you. Atsumu reaches for your hand and you stroke your fingertips lightly over the back of it, along the bones and tendons, each touch saying you'll be okay, it's going to be okay.

I'll make it okay.

"Sakusa's shoulder got banged up, you should probably put him on reserve for a couple days," Iwaizumi says. You glance over at the black-haired spiker, who gives you a thumbs-up though his expression is characteristically flat. "Atsumu, though... he fell pretty hard."

You can see that. There's a bruise blooming along the side of his face, like the sloppy trail of your lipstick after a night out. His ankle is swollen, too; the disorientation of the head injury must have impaired the grace of his landing.

You kneel and shift into clinical mode, receding into the comfortable space of your training. You feel along his leg, asking him over and over does it hurt, can you move this, does it hurt when I do this.

"Okay, doc?" His beautiful honey eyes are unfocused. You want to cry. You want to squeeze his hand tighter, but you don't want to hurt him more. "S all good. I'm fine."

You shake your head, grateful it's not worse. Afraid of what you have to say to him.

"That's right, you'll be fine. But the concussion paired with the ankle injury... I don't think it's a good idea for you to return to practice for a month at least."

You squeeze your eyes shut and pull your hands away from him. He probably doesn't want to be touched. He might hate you for this.

What's the point of sleeping with the doc if I don't get special privileges, you imagine him saying, if you're gonna take my life away from me like this. A month of recovery doesn't sound like so much to other people, but you've been working around these volleyball freaks since high school. You know that it's everything to them.

"Okay," Atsumu simply says. You look at him. "You gonna drive me home?"

"If you don't mind," you say softly.

"Yeah, then it's okay," he says, and scoots around, hissing when he forgets and puts pressure on the injured ankle. He leans back, and you catch his head in your lap.

"I'm gonna break my leg," Barnes says from somewhere behind you. "I want the doc to hold me like that."

You hear a thwack and then Iwaizumi's voice: "Sakusa, stop concussing your teammates. L/N only has so much room in her car."

Atsumu recovers more quickly than you expect. You should have known, though; he's always had a strong ability to heal. He rarely gets sick and though he's brash and reckless and sometimes outright stupid, he's lucky. In almost all the inadvisable endeavors you've seen him pull, he almost never gets hurt.

You're not actually a doctor, not that the team believes that. You've been trying to explain that you're a sports medicine physical therapist for the three years you've been working for MSBY and not once has it deterred anyone from calling you doc.

Atsumu was signed six months after you started, and you had only been friends until a year after that. In all that time, you've been the consummate professional at work, never letting your touches linger, never stretching him too deeply, trying not to stare at him like he's just any other player. When he first propositioned you, you tried not to say yes too quickly, as businesslike as possible.

You went into sports medicine because of your sister. She had been a superstar from the moment she stepped foot on a tennis court; even at a young age you saw that she wielded the racket like it was an extension of herself. As the two of you grew in age, you also saw the ways she overextended herself: the swollen knobs of her knees, hidden under frozen packs of peas, the frequent doctor's visits for hyperextension, the tear tracks when she tore her ACL.

You had spent so much of your childhood waiting for her during practice, doing your homework in the bleachers, fielding questions about her play to the uninitiated relatives who came to support her matches that it felt like the most natural course of action to go into a career field that meant you could help her and others like her chase their dreams.

You had also almost exclusively dated athletes as a result. While you were attending university and chasing your certifications, you had been surrounded by two types of people: students and athletes. You had barely any time in your schedule, much less the ability to align it with a similarly crammed med student. Athletes, on the other hand, didn't have an obsession with comparing your knowledge, liked that you were too busy to monitor them all day long, and loved that you had to attend every one of their games because it was literally your job.

By the time you got the position in Osaka, you were beyond over the routine of dating the people in your care. You swore to yourself that you wouldn't mess around with the team and entered a yearlong celibate streak, which Atsumu blew up into a million pieces and never allowed to recover.

To his (and your) credit, the both of you became close friends before ever crossing the boundary of inappropriate conduct. Just because you were strictly business during work hours didn't mean that you, lonely and shy in a new city, were going to turn down your coworkers' offer to go out after practice. You'd gotten to know Meian well and considered Bokuto to be something of a little brother. Then they had traded a couple of players for Atsumu, and the moment he gripped your hand and slapped your shoulder instead of shaking it or bowing like a normal person, you knew that he was going to mean much more to you than any other of your team.

You had fallen quickly into a deep friendship, and his apartment was much closer to the team's favored bars than yours was, so it was just easier for you to go home and crash on his couch. And his couch was gross, because it belonged to a bachelor who had never heard of a steam cleaner, so one night you insisted on sharing the bed, and you had become good friends who cuddled weekly.

It happened like this:

You were the last two left in the booth that had once contained the extremely compressed bodies of several of the largest men in Japan, probably, but they had practice early the next morning and had trickled out, one by one. Atsumu had his head down on the table while you desperately tried to convince him to come home (already you were referring to his apartment as your home without thinking, though only a spare toothbrush and a coat were kept there at the time).

"Please," you said, "I'm so tired. I'm not even drunk anymore."

"I am," Atsumu said, turning his face toward you. "Very."

"I know," you groaned. "Let's go home."

"I can't," he said despondently.

"Why not?"

"Not with you," his words slurred together. "I gotta problem."

"What?" You suddenly felt very, very sick. Maybe you were more drunk than you'd thought.

"Mhm. I gotta apologize, I think."

Oh, you thought. This is it. He knows.

"I've been having," he hiccuped and turned his face into his arms again so that you couldn't hear the next thing he mumbled.

"I can't hear you like that," you say softly. "Please, Atsumu, you can tell me anything."

You've been seeing someone, and she wants me to stop sleeping over. She wants you to stop being friends with me. You need the apartment to yourself to have her over.

"No," he says, turning back to you again, his eyes glossy with drink, his lips pink and just the slightest bit open. "I have been having manly thoughts about you. Unmanly thoughts. Whatever."

"What do you mean?" You'd asked, heart beating fast.

"I wanna have sex with you," he said, and then slammed his forehead against the table until it left a red mark. "I'm sorry, women! It's wrong to dream about kissing your girl friends, I know!"

You ignored his nonsensical shouting and put your hand under his face so he wouldn't injure it.

"Then let's go home so we can have sex," you said. He whipped his head up so fast you worried for his spinal discs.

"You promise?"

You actually didn't have sex that night because he fell asleep as soon as you coerced him into the bed. The next morning, he'd been hungover and ashamed, stuttering and afraid to look you in the eye. You had given him a handful of painkiller pills and waited until he was washing it down with a glass of green juice before you said "I think about having sex with you, too," so that he spewed it all over the floor.

Maybe it was petty, but you needed vengeance for his forcing you to drag him bodily out of that bar the previous night.

After your first time, he said, awkwardly, something about not being able to commit to a relationship at the moment, something about difficulty expressing his feelings, about being too immature to settle. A script you were as familiar with as the back of your hands. You turned to him, swiping sweaty strands of hair out of your face, glowing with a smile as he stuttered his way through it, and said I know the game. We don't have to talk about it.

He insisted that it wasn't a game, that you deserved transparency and to be treated well, and you rolled over on top of him and kissed him until he forgot his own name.

During the month-long recovery period, you had resumed the friendship you had had in the early months of knowing each other, refusing adamantly to do anything strenuous or even unsportsmanly while you had to work much more closely together than ever before. You insist on sleeping at your own apartment for the first week, afraid of aggravating his injuries further, until he threatens to walk to you with his pillow and sleepover bag. You bring him food near-daily and call his brother when your schedule prevents you from doing so.

He's diligent about doing the exercises and stretches you assign him to bring him back to full functionality. Towards the end of his detention (you pinch him for using such a dramatic word), you start taking walks together, in the evenings on work days and the mornings on days off.

You keep expecting him to ask for space, to push you out of his daily routine, to realize that he's bored because he knows everything about you; there's nothing left to hide. Nothing except the one unspoken thing, the one you're sure he knows but you can't acknowledge.

New growth is beginning to sprout on the trees, grey wood dotted with little specks of bright green. Atsumu walks without a limp, now, his posture straight but relaxed, his hands shoved into his pockets.

His body is healed, but his heart aches. You're wearing casual clothes, big soft pants that billow around your legs and a black shirt with his name in yellow letters, and you look far away, worried. No matter how many times he smooths the pinch between your brows away with his thumb, no matter how many times he asks what's wrong, you refuse him a straight answer.

He wonders if he's pulled you too close, in this month dying of boredom, forbidden from running and setting and anything that could damage his brain. He still gets to see you in the morning, your back arching as you stretch and yawn, the crinkle of your nose when your feet touch the cold floor outside of bed, which is probably slowly draining all the function from his grey matter.

You're wearing gloves, your extremities sensitive to the cold. He takes your left hand, tugs it off. When he tangles your fingers together, you look up at him, questioningly, that knot between your brows back again.

"What, woman, now I can't hold your hand?"

You stop walking. He curses his big, fat mouth. He always chooses the wrong thing to say, always has.

Osamu used to ask him what he was supposed to say to girls. Atsumu, proud big brother that he wanted to be, would puff out his chest and give him paragraphs of advice, and Osamu almost never used it. There were so few opportunities for him to advise Samu, though; he was so self-sufficient, maybe more than Atsumu had ever been. He was more introverted, less brash and crass and rude. Sometimes, when Atsumu ceded his insistence on being the wiser one with six more minutes of life experience, he wished he could be more like his twin.

"Do you love me like that, Atsumu?" You ask, mouth pressed into an unhappy line, already pulling away from him like you were expecting him to say something completely insane. "Because I understood fucking, and being friends with benefits, but I don't know if I get going out for food and holding hands and—"

"Like?" He says, refusing to let your hand slip from his. "I love you. That's it."

"Oh," you say, and your mouth is twisted up like you're searching for something he can't see again, but the crease in your forehead is gone.

"You gonna go out with me?" He says, and it comes out way easier than he ever thought it would, and if choosing the rest of his life is as simple a decision as chasing volleyball and you has been, growing up sounds way better than he thought. "'Cause I wanna do it all with you."

Once Atsumu's allowed to drink again, it's time for the real volleyball season to start, and his diet becomes much stricter and your schedule much longer, but eventually the two of you find yourselves back at the same old bar with the rest of the team.

"You're a scrub with no hope of survival in the zombie apocalypse," sneers Atsumu. This is a common topic of conversation among them; each one vying to be the leader of your hypothetical ragged survivors' team.

"I could win a fight against you with one hand tied behind my back," snits Tomas, who usually is oblivious to Atsumu's provocations but gets a lot feistier when he's drunk, to the setter's delight.

"Please don't," says Bokuto, his hair deflating in fear of his friends fighting.

"Haven't you had enough dick measuring," says Sakusa, holding a mug in front of his face like it'll prevent him from seeing Atsumu's and thus pretending he's not there.

"Have you guys ever done that?" You perk up, looking around. "Isn't that supposed to be a locker room ritual?"

"In high school, maybe," snorts Barnes. "We're way too old for that now."

"Yeah, we're real mature," insists Bokuto, his hair bouncing back up into its familiar two-pronged shape. You’ve long wondered how it does that, but if working with MSBY has taught you anything, it’s that science can’t explain everything.

You nod, taking another sip of your beer.

“So how big is it?” Atsumu addresses Sakusa and you squeeze your eyes shut. You just got him to start attending team bonding nights.

“Small. Leave me alone.” You choke on your drink, spluttering as you make eye contact with Sakusa and the tiny, prideful smirk on his face.

The rest of the team dissolves into laughter.

"What about you?" Hinata, his cheeks rosy, says to Atsumu. Before you can think, your drunken mouth speaks for you.

"You can’t have it, I called dibs!”

You slap a hand over your mouth, mortified. You can’t even begin to think about the rest of your coworker’s reactions. You haven’t even disclosed your relationship yet! Atsumu guffaws.

“I don’t think anyone’s trying to take it from ya, doll.”

#im panic posting this immediately before an appointment and RUNNING AWAY i will be back with tags and summary such later #note that there is suggestive content #haikyuu!! x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #hq!! x reader #hq x reader #atsumu miya x reader #haikyuu!! x reader fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #atsumu fluff #atsumu x reader fluff

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hoodreader · 2 months ago

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𝐻𝒜𝐼𝑅 𝒞𝒜𝑅𝐸 𝒜𝒮𝒯𝑅𝒪𝐿𝒪𝒢𝒴

hair growth n length retention infodump xx

each hair follicle is connected to a blood supply. healthy blood flow is partially what stimulates hair growth. that’s why there are so many hair-growth tips that involve increasing circulation to the follicle ( such as scalp massages, warm oil applied to the scalp, or turning ur head upside down ). i used to do the warm oil + scalp massage method n it’s tried + true ! just warm up an oil to a suitable temp, apply to the scalp as a pre-poo, then massage in for at least sixty seconds. but if u can go even longer, that works. do this at least once a day!

edit: i meant at least once a * week * lol but u can do more if u would like. i’d advise a daily massage, with once to twice a week, incorporating a warm oil. x

moisture n oil are key due to the way they keep the hair strands flexible n resistant!!! first of all… blk girls… idgaf what people say. wash ur hair once a week to once every two weeks!!! a proper shampoo n conditioning are one of the main ways we keep our hair n scalps from being too dry. and blk hair has a tendency to drying out due to the fact that blk people produce less sebum. n bc we tend to have curlier / coilier / kinkier / coarser / thicker hair, it takes more work for sebum to travel down the hair shaft. the drier the hair = the more likely u are to lose hair. so keep it washed n moisturized.

then combine w an oil. this can be ur body’s natural sebum production, creams, butters, or oils such as jojoba, coconut, peppermint, tea tree, n olive. 🫒🥥 without stimulating the scalp, oil won’t necessarily promote hair growth but it does promote length retention ! “an inch retained is an inch grown.” most stagnancy in hair growth is due to the fact that hair is brittle / weak / split. gotta remember that hair is dead - so u gotta be gentle with it to keep it lively in spite of that.

what can help w dryness aside from moisture, deep conditions, n treatments is trimming !!! routine trims make the most difference in the growth of ur hair imo. sacrifice half of a centimeter to an inch in order to retain three inches of hair! it’s a very logical trade off. try to trim around once every 6 - 8 wks. don’t gotta be a lot. just depends on ur goal

then ofc, what u consume has a correlation to hair growth. everyone’s body works differently so figure out what works for u :p

astro vocab

blood flow n circulation is martian

skin ( scalp ) n hair is saturnian

hair loss is martian n solar, due to the bilious nature of those planets. there is a correlation between hair loss n bile production

hair loss is also correlated to saturn, due to saturn ruling over dryness ( dry skin + hair )

moisturization is the moon, and so is sebum

remedy mars n sun by eating foods that promote digestion as well as boosting a healthy liver !!! biotin ( vitamin b7 ) can def help with hair growth as well. abstain from alcoholism. this can help with the bilious nature of those planets

u can also remedy mars n sun’s bilious natures n promote healthy bile production by consuming ‘ healthy fats. ’ fat is not bad for u !!! it’s actually very important. u just gotta know which fats. use spices. nd use acids ( such as acv ). u can remedy saturn by being vegetarian. if not vegetarian, at least plant-based n try to abstain from alcohol.

remedy moon by doing ur mother’s hair or a matriarchal figure, if the mother isn’t present. and vice versa. remedy moon by also using familial hair care remedies - blk girls, that mean whip that blue magic grease n pink hair lotion out every now n then!! embrace tradition ( lol ).

make rice milk hair conditioner for a moon remedy as well - milk is ruled by the moon, and rice is a good moon offering. douse the head in it. fair warning tho, rice water can smell kinda crazy lol so maybe wash out with a good-smelling conditioner. do lunar remedies on a monday :p

trim during new moons. this astronomically promotes growth !!! i advise looking at the sign or aspects too - venus n moon, moon in taurus, moon in cancer, etc are great transits to trim under

i recommend making a rosemary oil. it’s quite simple: u mix essential carrier oils with rosemary - infused oil ( such as avocado ). i personally recommend making ur own hair care. it’s very ancestral n i think being hands on with greenery helps with remedying venus, moon, n saturn. 🌱

im restarting my hair growth journey - i’ve been big chopping since 2019, only allowing my hair to grow long once since then. well, 5 / 6 years later, i quite miss my long hair, so im going to restart and really dedicate time into growing it out

both acts - shedding my hair and growing it back - are v spiritual. i wanted to share what helped me in the past for those who may be interested but also to remind myself how i cared for my scalp, hair, n head. plus, the indigenous urges to wear long ass braids is getting too strong

i last big chopped in august 2024. n i don’t really have a picture of that day. but maybe i’ll start posting pics of my hair growth. idk, we gon see lol xoxo thank u for reading

w sm love, hoodreader

#astrology #astro observations #astro community #astro notes #hoodreader

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sunnie-angel · 3 months ago

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A Fever You Can't Sweat Out

Part 5: Homecoming

fem!jason todd x fem!reader summary: jay's finally home and she's got some promises to keep tags: somnophilia, oral sex, fingering, biting, strapping, resolved sexual tension rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.5k a/n: so this is the last of my pre-written chapters. i'm putting this series on temporary hiatus, but there is an outline for the second half i just have to actually sit down and finish writing it.

part 4 | series masterlist

The sound of the key in the front door has you tripping in your haste to get off the couch. You come careening around the corner just in time to watch Jay drop her duffle bag on the welcome mat with a thud before you’re on her. She catches you one handed, arm a crushing bar around your lower back. Jay honest to god dips you, spins you around until you’re on your toes and dips you into a kiss that steals the breath from your lungs. Her hair is a wild mess where it drapes around your face. Breathless she spins you upright, pulls back and rests her forehead against yours.

“Miss me?” she teases and it’s all you can do not to burst into tears now that she’s finally home. “Hey, hey, none of that now,” she murmurs pulling you close. “Thought my baby girl’d be happy I’m back.”

“I am! I am, just missed you s’all,” you reassure her, hands tangling in the fabric of her t-shirt. Tentatively you rise back up on your tiptoes to kiss her when the most awful growling noise erupts from her tummy. You giggle until your sides hurt, her face going from embarrassed to sheepish in the span of seconds.

“Was in a rush to get home,” she says, colour dusting her cheeks.

“Go shower Miss Saved the World,” you tell her, then press a quick kiss to her lips. “Got some leftover rice from dinner, pretty sure I can whip you up something quick.”

“Sorry,” Jay says, dropping a grateful kiss to your forehead before dragging her bag with her to the washing up area.

It’s easy to simmer the eggs and chicken together, the sounds of the pipes running hot water coming from the bathroom. With a start you realize you’re humming, mirin and soy sauce getting added to the beat of the song. Warmth bubbles up in your throat as you hear the water turn off, the sounds of Jay puttering around finally filling the apartment again. A waft of steam escapes from the bathroom door just as you turn off the heat on your pan. The barstool’s legs scrape the linoleum as it gets pulled back in tandem with you carefully pouring out the mixture on top of the rice. Proud of your efforts, you place the bowl on the counter in front of her with a flourish. She catches your hand and presses a soft kiss to your warm palm, her gaze a mixture of grateful and tender.

“Wait! Wait!” you interrupt her before she can dig in. You turn around and start rooting through the freezer. “Knew I forgot something– aha!” Triumphant you pull out a baggie of frozen chopped green onion and sprinkle it across her bowl. “Okay now you can eat.”

With a fond huff she tucks in, eyes dropping closed at the first bite. A final weight lifts off of your chest as she suddenly goes ravenous, attacking her makeshift dinner with the feral attitude of someone that hasn’t eaten well in a while. Jay lets you hold her hand as she eats, bears your careful inspection of her knuckles with their fading bruises without a word but tightens her hold on your fingers whenever you try to let go. Sighing heavily, she leans back full and sated.

“You treat me too well,” she says, stomach warm and full.

“Nah, just the way you deserve,” you reply honestly. Still keeping hold of her hand, you hug her from behind, burying your face in her damp hair. It didn’t smell right when you stole some of her shampoo while she was gone, something essentially Jay missing from it. It smells like her now and you breath it in.

“Said a lot of things about how I was gonna treat you,” she murmurs, lax in your arms and eyes still closed.

“Later,” you tell her. “Right now you’re more likely to fall asleep face first in my pussy and I don’t need that blow to my ego.” You card your fingers through her hair and feel her shake with laughter.

“Probably,” she admits.

“Go sleep it off and just let me enjoy having you home for a bit. Go!” you urge her and finally she listens. Plants a kiss to your cheek before stumbling off to the darkened bedroom. It doesn’t take long to clean up, mostly putting things to soak in the sink for you to deal with in the morning. By the time you make it to the bedroom, Jay’s already fast asleep. With a smile, your curl up behind, arm looping around her waist to keep her close. You’re not letting her out of your sight anytime soon.

The dream is warm. A kaleidoscope of memory folding together. Jay holding you close, Jay kissing down your chest, Jay looking up at you from between your thighs like some dangerous creature just breaking the surface of the water. She kisses your inner thighs like she did on that rainy day two months ago. Pets and blows on your mound the same way she did last spring. Parts your folds with eager fingers to nibble at your clit like she did right before the first time she fucked you. You breath out a heavy sigh, plaintive as she starts to build up a rhythm. Dreams of Jay are always welcome – frequent now that she’s not here to help you relive those memories – even if you always wake with a cry and the feeling of clenching down around nothing.

This time, the dream feels even more real than usual. You can practically feel the heat of her breath on your cunt, the blunt shape of her nails as the drag along your skin. You grind your hips down, dig your heels into the mattress and toss your head side to side as you chase your pleasure, desperate to come before the dream ends and you’re left with your empty bed.

Something solid prods at your hole and you wake with a gasp, sleepy confusion making you slow and stupid as Jay curls a finger inside of you. She suckles on your clit and your back arches as the sensation lights you up.

“J-jay?” you call out, hands blindly searching for the back of her head between your legs. “You’re really home?” It comes out more vulnerable than you’d expected, voice hitching into a high pitched whine as she curls a second finger into you.

“Never leaving home again if my baby girl can’t tell the difference between me’n a dream,” she growls into your thigh before biting down, teeth sharp as she litters the skin with blooming marks. Thumb steady on your clit she keeps finger fucking you, slick dripping down her wrist. She finds the gummy part of your cunt she’s been hunting for, hooks her fingers in and pulls just as she latches onto your clit again. You come on her face with a squeal, head falling back as the electricity rips through you. She pats your thigh patronizingly.

“There she is, there’s my good girl.” She kisses her way up your trembling body, the burning warmth of her skin telling you she lost her pyjama shirt a long time ago. “Came for me so quickly, your cunt knows exactly who she belongs to, doesn’t she,” she coos at you, a hand reaching out to tweak at your breast. Reflexively your body arches up into her and she grins. “But I made a promise, didn’t I? Said I was gonna make you scream.” Jay rolls her hips against you and you can feel the hard, cool tip of her strap notch at your entrance. “Scream for me, okay baby girl?”

The strap slides home in one long thrust that has your body pulled tight, head dropped back and slack jawed as she pries open your still sensitive cunt. Jay mouths at your throat, sucks a necklace of pretty marks as she slowly draws back and then slams back in. You keen as the textured length of the cock scrapes your insides, fat girth bigger than anything you’d let yourself take in her absence. All the tiredness has drained out of you, replace by something simmering in your blood. You can hear the wet sloppy sounds your cunt makes as she thrusts into you again, her hips hitting yours. She hooks a hand under your knee and readjusts the position of your hips before drilling back down into you.

You gurgle as she hits something you think might be your cervix, deeper than she’s ever been before. She’s carving a place for herself inside of your cunt, walls stretched thin around her. Your whole body jolts up the bed with every thrust and it’s all you can do hang on.

“Jay, Jay need it. Need more, please,” you beg her, her strap fucking you just right.

You claw at her back when her calloused fingers find your clit again, moaning loud and wanton as she picks up the pace. Pleasure bloating in your gut as sparks start to collect under her fingers, your cunt clenching. She leans down to kiss you and you can taste yourself raw on her tongue, still dripping with the leftovers of your first orgasm. Jay pinches your clit and you come with a scream, whole body spasming under her as she fucks you through it. Your vision goes blurry and your thighs twitch around her hips but she keeps going.

“Don’t I always keep my promises?” she purrs, voice thick. “Keep you well fucked in my bed, my sweet girl?” Jay slows the roll of her hips to slow, filthy grinds. Threads both hands through yours and pins you to the bed with her full body, the vulnerability of the position making you gasp high in your throat. Knuzzles into your cheek with the tip of her nose. “Knew you’d wait for me.”

“Didn’t like you gone,” you whimper. “Missed you too much.”

“Missed you too,” she says, rests her forehead against yours. Lingers just out of reach to kiss you, shares your air, your greedy gasps. “Missed my little love.” Finally she givens and kisses you. “Couldn’t sleep without you.” She grinds her strap into you. “Couldn’t think without wonderin’ about you, ‘bout that picture.” Jay kisses the corner of your mouth as you pant at her hips undulating. “Wanted you chatterin’ in my ear ‘stead of the others. Fillin’ up the room with laugher.” You squeeze her hands, her damp hair tickling the sides of your face.

“Don’t leave again,” you beg her.

“Love you too much to let you outta my sight,” she reassures you.

“You– you love me?” you repeat back in wonder, heat rising in your cheeks. She stops moving and you mewl at the loss.

“I– what? I’m literally balls deep in you at 4 in the morning and you want to know if I love you?” She asks. You try to hide your face in the pillows but she won’t have any of it.

“You’ve never said it before,” you tell her shyly.

“Yes, baby girl, I love you. I’ve loved you since the minute I walked into that bar and saw you sittin’ there all doe eyed. Happy?” she says exasperatedly, punctating her last word with a filthy grind that has your clit throbbing. You grin and bury your face in her shoulder. Her words put to rest an annoying little part of your mind that hadn’t been able to put the what if aside since the moment she left.

“Love you Jay,” you mumble into her skin.

“What’s that?” She says, pretending not to hear you. “Gonna need you to speak up a bit.”

“Love you love youloveyouloveyou,” you slur as she fucks you until you’re keening, words warm and true. Her brows scrunch up the way they do when she’s close, mouth dropping open as she works the both of you closer to the edge. Your third orgasm rolls over you, takes you by surprise and washes you clean as you tremble and shake under the weight of Jay’s solid body. She kisses you, soft nips that have you chasing after the comfort of her mouth.

“Such a good girl for me, my little love,” Jay coos into your hair.

The alarm doesn’t wake you up in the morning. It’s the kettle, the one Jay insists makes the best tea because it boils the water right on the stovetop, the one she always forgets is loud enough to reach the bedroom if the door isn’t shut fully, that wakes you with it’s rattling whistle. There’s a book face down on the pillow besides you, the cracked spine softly touched by sunlight. With a sigh you roll back over and close your eyes, still hopeful the last of your tiredness is still enough to pull you back under for a few more minutes before your alarm goes off and you have to drag yourself out of bed and off to work. Wait.

With a shriek you try and rush out of bed, uncoordinated, sore limbs only tangling you up in the blankets and almost causing you to faceplant onto the carpet. Your elbow stings with the slight friction of the rugburn buts its going to be nothing compared to showing up to work 4 hours late if the wall clock is right. Whatever dignified noise you made must have been louder than the teakettle because suddenly Jay’s there to help you up.

“Hey, hey what’s all this then? Miss me that much?” she jokes and you scowl. You can’t afford to get your asshole of a manager any more on your case than he already is.

“I was supposed to be at work 4 hours ago,” you seethe, still not quite angry enough to pull back from her touch after so long. “Did you turn off my alarm?!”

“Yup,” she says unapologetically. Before you can storm off to the bathroom, she wraps you up in her arms even as you hiss and scowl. “Aaaand I also called in and said you were taking the day off because your fiance was back from deployment.”

“I— bu- what?” you sputter. Jay just presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Real piece of work that manager, said if it was for one of our brave boys then you could take tomorrow off too,” she hums.

“You told my dick of a boss with his Top Gun hard on that my fiance – who does not exist – is back from a deployment – that didn’t happen – and he just gave me two days off without any notice,” you spell out slowly, still trying to figure out at what point you had slipped into a different universe.

“Well there might have been a little—” she pitches up into a tearful voice “—we didn’t know if Richard was going to make it, but he’s alive and asking for her.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” you tell her, rolling your eyes affectionately at her.

“Yeah, ridiculously in love with you,” she says semi-seriously. She plants a kiss to the top of your head. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you tell her and savour the warmth of finally having her home.

#jason todd x reader #fem!jason todd #fem!jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #fem!red hood #sunnie writes 🌻#a fever you can't sweat out series

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nmakii · 4 months ago

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AND BRUSH, AND BRUSH MY HAIR

— chigiri hyoma x long haired!reader

alt title: chigiri would be my bff bf!!! sighs me and my waist length hair against the world

well… obviously he loves your long hair. he thinks it frames your face perfectly >_<

one of the best past times to spend tgt as a couple is being in his lap while he brushes your hair out. if your hair is long because it’s a hassle to always get a haircut, he wont let you braid his hair in return. :x only if you love your hair as much as he does teehee

++ if you guys ever share an apartment and bathroom, the shelf is gonna be full of hair products…

also loves to shampoo your hair if you’re too tired to do it… something super intimate about letting him exfoliate your scalp as his finger thread through the tangles in your hair. it’s a simple luxury that only you and he’d know the pleasure of

he luvs trying out hair hacks with you. “babe..! i just saw this hack that says your hair grows healthier and longer faster if you use rosemary oil and rice water..! …where’s the rosemary?”

he thinks ur long hairs perfect… doesnt want you to ever cut it… and if you do end up cutting it, it’s gonna be like that meme “told my girl not to cut her hair. she did it anyway and she looked fine af. this is why women shouldnt listen to their man”

if you ever have an important event going on, and you need to look glammed up, he’s MORE than happy to wake up at 5 AM or whatever to style your hair. he luvs u ofc <3

“it’s not too tight, is it?” chigiri asks as he ties the braid he tied on the side, holding your hair from getting into your face. “yeah, it’s perfect, hyo. thank you.” you hum.

“right. well, good luck at your party, babe. hopefully there isn’t someone who tries to steal you away from me while im not there.” he huffs. “heeh, good luck at your game too, tonight. and don’t worry, ill tell them im taken by a gorgeous man.” you enunciate your words, buttering him up and making his heart turn into jelly.

chigiri abashedly, yet smugly grins. “tch… gorgeous? more like drop-dead charming…”

you scoff, taking your purse as he walks you to the door. “hmm… hyo, what would you do if i wanted to cut my hair?” you ask. of course it was a hypothetical, but it was something you were seriously starting to concern…

“haah? how come? you’re super pretty with it, i won’t like brushing your hair if it’s short..” he huffs, the frown on his pretty lips making him seem adorable. “i know… i like my hair too, but i feel like it’s getting too long… like, there has to be a limit somewhere, right?”

he shakes his head. “well…if you like it, you shouldn’t cut it. when it comes to you, you could have obnoxiously long hair like rapunzel— like, to the point where it’s in my face when we cuddle, and ill still think you should grow it longer.” he hums, a hand unconsciously finding its way to you. “plus, why cut it when it makes your title as ‘world’s prettiest girl’ so much more obvious to everyone else?”

he’s trying to spoil you with compliments. he knows that getting you weak in the head would let him get his way. of course he definitely doesn’t use this power for evil… this was just a desperate occasion. “i mean… once, i dropped my pen, so i bent down to get it… and my hair was on my arm, and i thought it was a lizard and i jumped..!” you recount a story from two weeks ago.

“…pfft… ahaha..!” he laughs. “that just means you should keep your hair out of your face… see? a simple braid like what i did for you right now would be enough.” he rebuts your reasons for cutting your hair.

“…whatever.” you groan. “im still on the fence about whether i should do it anyway.” chigiri nods. “well then, don’t cut it. it’d be like you’re cutting a part of my soul away.”

you scoff. dramatic, much? chigiri rolls his eyes at your disbelief. “you laugh, but i’m serious..! just let me be a little bit selfish… and, don’t cut your hair…” he pleads.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk #bllk fluff #chigiri hyoma #bllk chigiri #chigiri x reader #blue lock chigiri #chigiri x you #chigiri fluff #hyoma #hyoma chigiri

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heretyc · 1 month ago

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Short Domestic Drabbles [Coyle, Gooseberry, Barbi]

Was feeling floofy. Y'know? Saw so many dog gifs writing this that I had to go pet my own floofers lol

Coyle had swore, up and down, that he was not a pet person.

But even he can be wrong; upon the couch laid Coyle and your pet, the critter sitting on his lap as he watched television and sipped at his beer.

"Did they win you over?" You teased, walking over. Once you were close enough, Leland wrapped a strong arm around you, pulling you down and into his side. The TV had a sports rerun on it, the announcer screaming out eagerly as somebody did something. If only you had an excited announcer whenever you did the bare minimum.

"Nope," he responded after a quick swig, and he licked his lips free of the stout. The critter on his lap remained still, and you could tell they had fallen asleep. "They fell asleep on me, I didn't want to move em."

"De Nile is a river in Egypt, Le."

"So you passed geography. Good for you."

Typical Coyle.

"I'm back," Barbi's voice called into the bathroom, pleased and musical whistles leaving through his lips as he carried in some scalp care.

"This rice watah and rose shampoo shit is pretty good, I've heard." He smirked, looking you up and down as you bent over the tub. "You ready?"

"Mhm."

Barbi hopped over the tub, sitting inside of it as he crouched in front of you; this way, he could wash your entire head.

For some reason, the mafia man had an obsession with helping you with your head. "It's soothing," he claimed the day he wanted to help you wash your hair after a difficult trial. He even knew your favourite temp; as he turned the shower on and aimed the shower head at the top of your scalp, you felt warm water coat your scalp like a hug.

He took a whiff of the shampoo, humming in satisfaction as he poured the thick substance onto his hands. "Smells like a fuckin' florist's fetish in a bottle." He snickered, emulsifying the pale pink shampoo and massaging it into your scalp.

He was better than that scalp brush you got. Wayyyy better.

[Tried keeping this as immersive as possible for people with no hair or curly hair types lol]

"Ohhh, I've done it! I've finally done it!"

"Phyllis, shut the fuck up. It's a pie, nots a fucking lottery ticket."

The jolly woman ignored the pessimism from the puppet on her right hand as she placed a steaming pie in front of you, "What do you think, dear?" Gooseberry questioned you with a pleased grin, "My homemade strawberry rhubarb pie."

"Looks delicious," you quipped, nodding your head. You moved to touch it, only for the woman to gently smack your hand away and chortle. "Ah ah ah," she tsked, waving a pointed, gloved finger, "it's too hot for precious hands!"

"And the rhubarb's healthy, or some shits," Futterman snickered, "Better than fuckings chocolate."

The puppet then looked at you with a menacing expression - if that was even possible! - and gnashed its 'teeth', "My daughter made you a pie...best you coulds do afterwards is to brush your fuckins' teeth."

"Yessir."

You have never had such a more intense toothbrushing session in your life.

#outlast #outlast trials #the outlast trials #outlast fanfiction #outlast x reader #franco barbi #franco barbi x reader #leland coyle #coyle #coyle x reader #leland coyle x reader #gooseberry x reader #gooseberry #mother gooseberry #phyllis futterman

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budsandberries · 1 year ago

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Nourish & Revive: Rice Water Shampoo for Dry, Damaged Hair, and Hair Growth (Paraben & Sulphate-Free)

Meet your hair's new superhero – Buds and Berries Rice Water Shampoo, the best rice water shampoo out there! It's like a magical elixir made from rice, specifically designed for hair growth. This rice hair shampoo isn't just any shampoo; it's the best one to boost those strands and make your hair happy. If you've been dreaming of longer and healthier hair, this is your go-to product. Think of it as the ultimate hair growth rice water shampoo, your secret weapon for achieving those fabulous locks. Say goodbye to ordinary and hello to the extraordinary with Buds and Berries Rice Water Shampoo!

Buds and Berries Rice Water Shampoo Benefits:

Healthy Hair: Revives dull and dry hair, making it healthy again.

Long-lasting Softness: Provides 120 hours of conditioning, keeping hair soft for an extended period.

Moisture Retention: Unlike shampoos with sulphates that can dry out hair, this shampoo retains natural oils, preventing dryness, itching, and frizz.

Increased Volume: Ideal for thin and scanty hair, it boosts volume and promotes hair growth.

Strength and Protection: Strengthens and nourishes hair, reducing breakage and split ends.

Silky Finish: Leaves hair silky and smooth.

Nutrient-Rich Formula: The shampoo is packed with nutrients for deep nourishment.

So, in a nutshell, it's a shampoo that not only cleans but also nourishes, strengthens, and adds volume to your hair, leaving it soft, silky, and healthy.

#hair growth rice water shampoo #rice water shampoo for hair #best rice water shampoo for hair growth #fermented rice shampoo

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am-i-interrupting · 1 year ago

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Showering with Vox

He’ll say he’s waterproof but this man is water resistant.

He can get water on him without a problem but as soon as it gets in one of his ports, it’s time for a rice bath.

Still, he will try to insist that he can take a shower with you when you don’t want a bath.

He’ll slip into the shower with you.

“I’m not fixing you this time.”

He likes feeling your skin glide under his touch.

He’ll scrub at your skin with a cloth and message your shoulders and muscles.

He’ll lather shampoo in your hair and gently scratch at your scalp.

Then he’ll run conditioner through your hair.

He pulls you close against him as it sits.

This is why he gets in the shower with you despite the risk.

He loves the atmosphere of it all. The lights being dimmed by mist, the feel of your body pressed against his, the warmth in the air from the water.

He adores it, savors it.

These are some of his favorite moments filled with playful teasing and sexual innuendos interlaced with sincere words of praise.

#vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader

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skinandhaircare1 · 10 months ago

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Can Rice Water Shampoo Help you with Hair Growth?

Introduction: Have you ever wondered about the secrets to achieving long, luscious locks? Amidst the plethora of hair care products available, one natural remedy has been gaining significant attention for its potential to promote hair growth: rice water shampoo. In this blog, we'll delve into the science behind how rice water can benefit your hair and skin and introduce you to Buds and Berries Rice Water Shampoo, a gentle yet effective solution free from harsh chemicals.

Understanding Rice Water's Role in Hair Growth: Rice water, a centuries-old beauty secret originating from Asia, is the starchy water left over after rinsing rice. While it may seem simple, rice water is rich in vitamins, minerals, and amino acids that can nourish and strengthen your hair follicles. Here's how it works:

Stimulates Circulation: Massaging rice water into your scalp can improve blood circulation, ensuring that essential nutrients reach your hair follicles, promoting healthier hair growth.

Strengthens Hair Shaft: The inositol, a carbohydrate found in rice water, penetrates deep into the hair shaft, strengthening it from within and reducing breakage, which can contribute to longer, stronger hair over time.

Balances pH Levels: Rice water has a pH similar to that of our hair, which helps to maintain the natural balance of oils on our scalp. Healthy hair growth relies on maintaining a balanced scalp environment.

Protects Against Damage: The amino acids present in rice water form a protective barrier around the hair shaft, guarding against environmental damage and preventing moisture loss, which can lead to dry, brittle hair.

Introducing Buds and Berries Rice Water Shampoo: When it comes to choosing the right rice water shampoo for promoting hair growth, it's essential to opt for a product that is gentle yet effective. Buds and Berries Rice Water Shampoo is a standout choice, formulated with natural ingredients and completely free from harsh chemicals like sulfates and parabens.

Why Choose Buds and Berries Rice Water Shampoo?

Natural Ingredients: Buds and Berries Rice Water Shampoo harnesses the power of rice water along with other botanical extracts to provide your hair with the nourishment it needs without any synthetic additives.

Gentle Yet Effective: This shampoo is suitable for all hair types, including dry and damaged hair, thanks to its mild formula that cleanses without stripping away essential oils.

Promoting Hair Growth: Through consistent application, Buds and Berries Rice Water Shampoo not only encourages hair growth but also fortifies hair follicles, enhances overall hair health, and addresses dryness and damage, granting you the lush, resilient locks you crave.

In conclusion, rice water shampoo can indeed help with hair growth by nourishing the scalp, strengthening the hair shaft, and protecting against damage. For a natural solution that delivers real results, consider making Buds and Berries Rice Water Shampoo a staple in your hair care routine. Say goodbye to hair woes and hello to healthier, happier locks!

#rice water shampoo #rice water shampoo for dry hair #rice water shampoo for damaged hair #rice shampoo #shampoo for damaged hair #shampoo for dry hair

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thatbxolivia · 3 months ago

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IM BAAAAAAAAACK WITH MORE DADDY!ANAKIN

———

daddy knew of your needs, never once doubting you. you knew that at any moment you could call on him and he would be there.

there were no times that you felt alone, nothing to ever make you feel down. with daddy there, everything was doable and every situation was good.

he just had the sort of effect on you.

“daddy,” you pleaded, tugging on his robes and feeling a little sick. he looked down at you and smiled warmly, finishing conversing with the trade merchant. “ups?” you asked meekly and he picked you up, securing your bottom.

“my sweet girl,” he began. “what can daddy do for you?” he asked you.

“i just want some attention, please.” you admitted pitifully and daddy chuckled.

“anything for my babygirl.” he told you, walking down the near empty streets. he rubbed your back with his free hand, soothing you. you nodded off while he walked, only opening your eyes when you heard a brief noise or sensed new movement.

he walked back to your home on tatooine, daddy unlocking the door and walking in. he set you on the couch, placing your sand fox in your arms for you to hold onto as you slept. while you did this, daddy quickly put away the items he had purchased for dinner, happy and content in his life with you.

“daddy…” you mumbled in your sleep. daddy came back to you, rubbing your shoulder.

“i’m here, little one.” he told you. “daddy’s always here.” he kissed your forehead. you dozed off once more as daddy cleaned around the house, being quiet when he was near you. you snoozed silently, tuckered out from the days events. daddy cleaned up around you, making sure the house was tidy for you when you awoke.

once you did, he cooed down at you, fussing over you and picking you up again. he loved to hold you and swoon over you. he bounced you in his arms and kissed your cheeks, loving the red tint to them. he loved to make you blush.

“my sweet girl, what would you like for dinner?” daddy asked you.

“can we have stew and rice?” you asked politely and he obliged. he took you to the kitchen, placing you on a counter, and began cooking. you enjoyed the heavenly smells coming from the stove, finally realizing just how hungry you were. your tummy grumbled and daddy chuckled at you, stirring the stew and adding spices.

“it’s almost done, my little one.” he promised you and you nodded. you continued to wait for a few more moments until everything was ready, daddy bringing your bowl to the kitchen table along with his. he sat you down and cleaned your hands with a wet towelette and began to feed you, making sure you swallowed without any difficulty. he quickly ate his meal once he was done and began to take you to the restroom for a bath once he had all the dishes put away.

“okay, baby, okay.” he pat your back some more. he held you, gently bouncing and rocking you in his arms. he helped you up, moving you into the tub and running a hot bath. he set steamers in the bath and spearmint bath oil to help clear your sinuses. you shook as you sat in the water, unsure why you were so cold. daddy waterfalled water over your back, making you shake more. “sh, my love, daddy will be done soon.” he whispered, moving a stool to the edge of the tub to sit on while he bathed you. he rolled his sleeves up and began leaning you back with one hand, the other lovingly getting your hair wet and detangling it. he supported you by holding your back so just the back of your head was underwater. he leaned you back up, gently massaging shampoo into your hair. he massaged and scratched perfectly, soothing your head. he leaned you back like before after a couple minutes of scrubbing, rinsing your hair and detangling it again. he kept a firm hold on your back. he brought you back up, putting conditioner in your hair and massaging it through the strands. he rubbed your shoulders and neck while that set, trying to work out any sore muscles. he then lathered up a sponge and began to wash you, rinsing you off with the cup of water. he leaned you back one last time and rinsed your hair, detangling it once more and running his fingers through the soft and silky strands. he helped you up and out, wrapping your hair and body in the towels he placed in the heater before bathing you.

he picked you up, carrying you to your room and applying lotion all over you, then dressing you in a warm hooded onesie, cozy wool socks, and placing your pacifier in your mouth. he rubbed bacta balm on your chest then buttoned the onesie back up, tucking you in to his bed. he quickly washed his hands and came back to you about to doze off. he placed pillows behind you to help you sit up on your back. he placed his hand on your chest and listened to your heartbeat, his favorite sound. the steady thrum in your chest soothing him deep in his bones, happy to know his prized possession was alive and well. and that was how the two of you slept all night, safe in each others arms.

#fanfic #archive of our own #star wars agere #anakin x reader #cg!anakin #daddy!anakin #anakin skywalker #star wars anakin #anakin x you #cg!vader

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