#fluff drabbles

“Cody,” Obi-Wan said flatly from the couch, “I am recovering from a minor injury.” Perhaps minor was understating it.  He’d torn a ligament, they’d had to surgically repair it, but he’d be back on his feet quickly enough.

Cody set the tray down, all precision.  Obi-Wan supposed he should expect no less. Two mugs of tea, one perfectly steeped for Obi-Wan the way he liked it, the other with far more milk, clearly Cody’s. A bowl of soup, a side plate with exactly four of those dry crackers.

“Soup’s still hot,” Cody replied, ignoring him entirely. “Don’t spill it this time.”

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. “I only bumped it last time.”

“Right into your lap.”

“You startled me.”

“I set your datapad on the armrest.”

Obi-Wan gave a long-suffering sigh, then reached for the tea instead. Cody didn’t miss the wince. Not enough to warrant real concern, but enough to make Cody’s brow furrow.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” Cody reminded him.

“I’ve done nothing but rest.” Obi-Wan leaned back against the cushions. “I’ve read two novels. I’ve meditated more than I have in a year. I’ve watched a full hour of your military history holodocumentary without complaint.”

“You picked that one.”

“You said I should pick something relaxing. I didn’t expect thirty minutes of trench layout analysis.”

Cody smirked. “You watched all of it.”

“I was trapped.”

“And hydrated,” Cody added, picking up the water carafe on the side table and topping off Obi-Wan’s glass. “You're welcome.”

“I need to get out of this flat,” Obi-Wan muttered, taking a sip.

Obi-Wan swatted his hands away. “I’m fine.”

Cody's eyes were soft despite the exasperation. Cody sighed and kneeled in front of the him to check the med patch at Obi-Wan’s knee.

“You’re injured.”

“I’m also perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

Cody sat back on his heels, studying him, then said, “I’d do anything for you, you know, even if it means the snark when I change your bandages or fluffing your pillows.”

Obi-Wan blinked, then snorted. “You’ve never fluffed a pillow in your entire existence.”

Cody gave him a deadpan look. 

“You’re rather stubborn aren’t you?.”

Cody took a seat beside him on the couch. “And here I thought you liked that about me.”

Obi-Wan tilted his head. “It’s on the list.”

“What else is on the list?”

“Dangerous question, that.”

Cody gave him a slow grin. “I’ll take my chances.”

Obi-Wan let his hand drift up, fingertips brushing Cody’s jaw, trailing along the curve of his cheek, up to his scar.  “You’re a menace.”

“And you are a terrible patient,” Cody said, leaning closer. “So maybe we compromise.”

“Compromise?”

Cody’s voice dropped, the corner of his mouth brushing Obi-Wan’s as he spoke. “You rest. Let me fuss. And later, when you’re not groggy from pain meds and no longer in pain…”

He let the thought hang there.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “Later?”

Cody’s smile deepened. “I’ll stop fluffing pillows and do something much more interesting with my hands.”

Obi-Wan’s breath hitched, just slightly. The familiar spark lit behind his eyes.

“Now that’s an incentive.”

“Good,” Cody said, finally kissing him. “Then drink your tea and eat something.”

“And if I don’t?”

Cody stood, already heading for the kitchen. “Then I add extra crackers to your tray tomorrow and make you sit through part two of the documentary.”

A beat of silence.

“Force help me,” Obi-Wan muttered.

"Where've you been?"

"To the moon...and back!"

A fit of giggles that overtook you didn't stop until Tony Stark grabbed your arm and pulled you in, roughly slammed the door shut instantly silencing you.

"God (Y/N), you stink."

"Gee thanks."

"Are you mad?" you gave him a pout, swaying as you tried your best to focus and keep the room from spinning.

He said nothing, simply asked you to lean on him for support as he walked you to your room while you fought the urge to throw up. In your en-suite bathroom, he sat you on the closed toilet seat after making sure you weren't about to get sick.

"Where's the make-up remover thingy you have?"

Tony asked, his voice stoic like his face. You vaguely gestured towards the general direction of your vanity drawer before holding your head in your hands and sighing out loud.

The cliched feeling of regret and bad choices you made started swimming in your mind while Tony patiently got rid of the last bit of your liner, tossing the cotton pad in the bin before picking you up and carrying you to your bed.

This wasn't something you were used to, the silent treatment from your otherwise chaotic and noisy best-friend and roommate. Usually he had a lot to say about anything and everything, you almost wished he'd yell at you, snark his way into an argument, say something.

"Tony."

"Do you know I was worried about you? I don't call someone fifteen hundred times usually its the other way around. And you didn't even pick up! I was scared shitless."

You took a few seconds to process what he'd said before you burst out laughing, causing Tony to roll his eyes.

"Did I manage to scare the Tony Stark! Whaaaatt!! I bet you looked all adorable worried. Man, you kinda look adorable otherwise as well..."

You were rambling at this point and your attempts to tuck your legs beneath your body turned into you falling on your pillows sideways with a yelp.

Letting out a sigh, Tony pulled the blanket over you, shaking his head and turning to leave before you caught his wrist.

"Stay."

"And hear your snores? No, thank you." He scoffed but made no attempts of pulling away.

"Please?" you managed your best puppy dog eyes which you knew had worked when he huffed in defeat and slid into your bed from the opposite side.

Turning to face him, you pillowed your head on your hand and focused on Tony's features as he mirrored your position, now pulling the blanket over the two of you.

"So...hypothetically, if I were to confess my undying love to you, how would you react?" you murmured, the remainder of alcohol in your system making you bolder.

"Well hypothetically, I wouldn't be opposed to that idea. And hypothetically, I'd be very pleased." Tony answered, his voice soft as his hand tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Really?"

"Really."

You let out a content hum, snuggling into your pillows further as your eyes fluttered shut and you heard a quiet chuckle from Tony. He watched your beautiful features in the dim light before turning the lamp off, knowing you'd probably passed out.

"Okay so hypothetically, if I were to kiss you goodnight right now, would I be pushing my luck?"

He asked into the darkness, smiling as your soft snores reached his ears.

Placing a kiss to your forehead, he whispered 'good night' before closing his eyes, knowing he'd wake up a happier man tomorrow while you probably would with a terrible hangover.

"You promised you'd be careful."

You winced, though whether it was because of Thane's needle being pulled through your skin again or the guilt you felt for worrying him, it was hard to tell.

"I was," You insist, and this time you fashion a grin to flash to him. Thane says nothing at this, his eyes temporarily flickering over your smile and then back down to your shoulder where your wound rested.

You can feel your molars grind together, the stabbing of his needing and pull of thread sending an almost out-of-body- feeling through you. Each and every suture felt misplace, like it wasn't supposed to be there.

But it was.

And besides; the machinations of medical-grade string was a far-better placement than the bullet that had once lodged itself there.

"Any further to the right and it would've hit your chest," Thane says calmly, "and I'd be lucky to remove all the pieces of your broken ribcage from the muscle, assuming it wouldn't lodge itself in your heart, first,"

"But it wasn't, it didn't," You repeat once more, your pained smile dropping from your face, "Thane, I'm okay. We're okay. They caught us by surprise is all- it won't happen again."

More silence. This time, the added sound of string and skin being cinched together to close a wound that the both of you ended up paying for; the price being, of course, the illusion of safety.

"I know," Thane says, the snipping of scissors letting you know that the suture was, by all intents and purposes, done, "I don't mean to be like this, but I...it's hard, is all. It gets...harder, watching you leave the ship."

Thane's fingers trailed down your arm, a gesture of affection, of affirming the reality right before him, then anything else. His hand stopped at yours, and he waited patiently to see if you'd except his hand. You of course, obliged.

"It's...gonna take some getting used to is all, now that we've-" Thane hesitates, "-we're, uh-"

Thane clears his throat, and ushers in a comfortable silence between the two of you.

Your gaze sets on your newly-formed suture, almost taken aback by how delicate it looked. From experience alone you knew the trials and tribulations that came with trying to weave skin back together, and Thane had done it flawlessly.

"You did a bang-up job on me, Thane," You complimented warmly, "I doubt there will be a scar for this one, don't you think?"

You swear you could hear Thane's eyes roll loud enough to accompany the scoff he gave you. In an instant, the soft and compassionate man you fell in love with transformed into the caustic, incorrigible ass you fell in love with,

"Obviously not. Unlike whatever sock puppet stitching was attempting on you, I can sew wounds back without much trouble."

You felt your eyebrow raise, "sock puppet?"

Thane levels with you, "Coulda said hackneyed,"

You blew air through your nostrils, trying to decide as to whether or not feel truly insulted,

"Not every doc was as compassionate a soul as you. Woulda been most of our money if Yoshie and I went to a clinic every single time we had an injury,"

"And your second best a sewing kit?"

"Hey, none of them ever tore open!" You exclaim in defense, only to give it pause, "...I think."

"Given the state of your scars? I'm rather surprised."

Honestly? You sort of were, too. How could you not be? You remember those awful nights you came back wounded, being pulled back together by bright yellow thread. It stung for ages, and took twice as long to heal.

Yoshie would say they were merely pieces of proof that you'd lived. What's a body without blemishes, after all?

"Not to say," Thane says suddenly, reflectively, "that I don't find you any less attractive with them. I do. They're...part of you, even if some of them look like they were done by a blind mouse."

Thane squeezes your hand softly. You do the same thing back.

DAY 3 -  🅦🅗🅘🅢🅟🅔🅡🅢 (Drabble) - Kozume Kenma

DAY 5 -  🅘🅝🅓🅘🅡🅔🅒🅣 🅚🅘🅢🅢 (Drabble) - Kita Shinsuke

DAY 7 -  🅚🅘🅢🅢 🅞🅝 🅣🅗🅔 🅗🅐🅝🅓 (Drabble) - Kita Shinsuke

DAY 9 -  🅣🅔🅡🅜🅢 🅞🅕 🅔🅝🅓🅔🅐🅡🅜🅔🅝🅣 (Drabble) - Matsukawa Issei

DAY 11 -  🅡🅘🅝🅖🅢 (Drabble) - Miya Osamu

DAY 13 -  🅐🅡🅖🅤🅜🅔🅝🅣 (Drabble) - Miya Atsumu

DAY 15 -  🅕🅘🅝🅓🅘🅝🅖 🅐 🅟🅔🅣 (Drabble) - Matsukawa Issei

DAY 17 -  🅕🅛🅞🅦🅔🅡🅢 (Drabble) - Kuroo Tetsurou

DAY 19 -  🅛🅞🅝🅔🅛🅘🅝🅔🅢🅢 (Drabble) - Suna Rintarou

DAY 21 -  🅑🅡🅔🅐🅚🅕🅐🅢🅣 🅘🅝 🅑🅔🅓 (Drabble) - Akaashi Keiji

DAY 23 -  🅑🅛🅤🅢🅗🅘🅝🅖 (Drabble) - Kozume Kenma

DAY 25 -  🅒🅤🅓🅓🅛🅔🅢 (Drabble) - Suna Rintarou

DAY 27 - 🅖🅐🅜🅔 (Drabble) - Kozume Kenma

DAY 29 -  🅑🅔🅐🅡 🅗🅤🅖 (Drabble) - Bokuto Koutarou