#cal writes.

[specterings]

thinking about gaz with a trans guy neighbor he just cant get enough of.

gettin home late frm deployment and damn near whimperin to get in his bed and his door is locked. has to make the walk of shame to his neighbor’s door, a kind old lady who watered his plants. he forgets she moved and passed the torch.

(with his consent, he doesnt have much in his apartment besides his plants, and she’d said it was her grandson that took over the apartment from her)

thats until he’s staring at a disheveled man who’s got some scruff and is built like he should be totin a gun n pack beside him on the field. broad and bulky and not defined muscle, but. good layer of fat covering it. faded scars under his hairy pecs, hair that trails down to his waistband.

he doesn’t realize he’s just been standing there, gawking, until the man clears his throat and gaz has to mentally make sure he isnt drooling.

(hes not. but its a near thing.)

bashfully apologizing and throwing out some half baked excuse about being tired and acting like he wasnt imagining that large body holding his own, and the man just laughs like he knows.

hands gaz back his key with a tired, sharp little grin that fits a scruffy face and just tells him one of his plants os being especially stubborn about staying green. gaz just has to nod along and pretend like he isnt still thinking about the chub muffining over the top of loose plaid sweatpants. does the walk of shame (yearning’s version) back to his apartment and has the temptation to scream into his pillow.

(he doesnt, but he does text his sister about it and wonder if the neighbor is more partial to tenor coffee as. thank you.)

#cal writes. #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #ftm reader #gaz x reader #sfw

[apollos-calliope]

an expansion upon this post: luke castellan x aphrodite! reader blurb

the hermès’ cabin bunks weren’t by any means comfortable or fit for two, but you and luke were able to fit perfectly with a little limb configuration. you were situated practically on top of each other - your knee was pressed against his thigh, your body draped over his. you had just stopped making out to catch your breath. you turned lightly in the position you laid, knocking your elbow into luke’s lower stomach.

“fuck! ow,” he muttered, smacking your arm as you laughed.

“you. like. me.” you pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks, planting one big one on his lips at the end.

“i sure do, baby,” he grinned, pressing his fingertips into the flesh of your hips to pull you back into his lips. you fought each other for control. when he bit your lower lip, you pulled away to let out a string of not-so kind words. luke widened his eyes, not recognizing the language.

“gonna dirty talk to me in french? i like it.”

your bright smile faded into a smirk as you came up with the best idea you’d ever had.

you placed your head into the crook of his neck and pressed your lips to his ear.

“aujourd’hui c’est jeudi, mi amor. et parfois je me demande si t’as été bercé trop près du mur…” (today is thursday, my love. and sometimes i wonder if you were rocked too close to the wall as a baby)

he bucked his hips up into yours, causing you to let out something between a snort and a strangled moan. he had no idea what you were saying, of course. out of curiousity, you had to continue.

“il fait chaud. je veux aller à la plage.” you smiled as he grabbed your face to kiss you. he was weirdly effected by your french, but you weren’t using charmspeak. it must be something about the accent, or maybe he’s just into french. either way, it’s hilarious to see him panting. (it’s hot out. i want to go to the beach.)

the two of you continued for a while as your bodies molded together under the summer heat. sweat dripped from exertion and anticipation. luke finally began to pull at the edge of your shirt to push it up. yet, like every excursion at camp, the door handle eventually jiggled to signal everyone else’s return. you pulled away to press a kiss to his nose.

“tu es bête,” you giggled. “i’m glad i know you’re sexually attracted to thursdays, luke.” (you’re stupid.)

his protests came out as more of a stutter than an outburst. the bright red of his cheeks matched the lipstick smeared on his face.

“i am not! i’m just addicted to everything about you.”

~

can you tell this is my first semester of french because ooooh boy i have so much to learn! 😅

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #cal's writing! #pjo series #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x you

[calamitaswrath]

I have feelings about fantasy worlds

[ID: The "shoutout to women, gotta one of my favourite genders" meme edited to say "shoutout to unconventional fantasy world shapes, gotta be one of my favourite settings. I fw individual fantastical areas too if anyone was wondering". Several drawings and screencaps are edited in, such as the Discworld, Laputa from the Ghibli film Castle in the Sky, and the titans Bionis and Mechonis from Xenoblade Chronicles in the upper half. The lower half of the meme has has screencaps from Satorl Marsh and Valak Mountain from Xenoblade Chronicles and Sylvalum from Xenoblade Chronicles X edited in. End ID.]

#uhh idk what to tag this #fantasy #fantasy world #worldbuilding #writing #there these'll have to do #shut up cal you fool #xenoblade #xenoblade chronicles #xenoblade chronicles x #laputa #castle in the sky #discworld #great a'tuin

[zaritarazi]

Watched all the helnik scenes in s2 i'll post more spoilery content later today but i'll say i wanted more but i do get that they're setting up for if they get the big one and the last scene of theirs that they shared this season... ugh. My children.

#sab spoilers #helnik #honestly having cal and dani in all the promo stuff has been so good for me. #also! excited to report this does not deter my fic writing. it only strengthens it

[underdark-dreams]

BG3 Idle Dialogues: Elfsong patrons thirsting over the new Master Rolan

#they all want him lmfao #and cal and lia!! #and all i can say is same tbh #what i would give to see Rolan's reaction #might need to write it omfg #rolan bg3 #rolan #bg3 cal #bg3 lia #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 spoilers

[emlan]

"What about triplets?" I thought to myself but then you'd need to come up with a new name for the Real Boy version since two brothers from the same batch getting named Carlo and Carlo seems unlikely...? Anyway, let's lampshade it. If it wasn't for the fact it's too associated with Garfield and also not Italian in the slightest I think "Odie" (taken from 'Collodi') would've been a pretty cute name for him~ Gag option: "Sonny"

#lies of p #p lies of p #carlo lies of p #sir carlo lies of p #real boy carlo #giuseppe geppetto #romeo lies of p #geppetto lies of p #king of puppets #triplets #meme #lop #“Love my two older boys; (looks at hand covered with smudged writing) Cal and T”

[llumimoon]

@kaseyskat and I have been scheming up this AU since April and the latest episode gave the both of us massive brainworms so we're finally posting about it!!

Welcome to the Perfectly Regular AU <3 It's Scary and Normal centric and takes place shortly after the Hell Arc, it diverges from canon when Scary rejoins the teen's side and Willy decides she's a lost cause, causing him to shift gears into a different plan. Scary notices that Normal's been acting really weird lately- and what's this about homunculi?

Nyx has written the first installment of the AU here please go check it out!! :D

edit: here's part two btw <3

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #dndads s2 #dungeons and daddies season 2 #scary marlowe #normal oak #willy stampler #taylor swift dndads #lincoln li wilson #hermie unworthy #perfectly regular au #cal draws #consider this like a cover page for the whole AU lol #SERIOUSLY this is one of my favorite AUs weve made its SO fun #Regular is my boy EVERRRRRR #And Perfect is Nyx's boy LMAO #If youve ever seen me tag posts with perfect or regular now you know why and who they are #any writing abt this au will be from nyx and any art from me !! <3 #i'll probably post doodles or comics n stuff abt it :]c #this is just a very fun exploration into both norm and scary's characters i think #quite literally splitting normal in half #and forcing scary to confront her issues through history repeating itself #ITS SO FREAKING FUN OUGH #also feel free to ask me and nyx questions abt it if u have any bc. shoves this au in ny mouth we have so many thoughts #give me a sec to link the fic lol were posting these at the same time

[lostinforestbound]

Absolutely no one asked for this but I really needed to get these out of my system, so today I present to all of you, my:

General Lia and Cal Headcannons

Please please please share if you have random headcannons about these two! I would love to hear them! I also may make a Part 2 to this because I think about them a lot.

Lia

Lia is a very sappy drunk. When she drinks too much she'll be very emotional and teary eyed. She'll actively tell Cal and Rolan how much she loves them. Cal is very used to it, but it throws Rolan off every time.

She absolutely loves animals! If Tav doesn't beat her to it, she would absolutely take every stray cat in Baldur's Gate and keep them, much to Rolan's dismay. If he put his foot down about them not staying in the tower, she would at least go out and feed them when she has time.

When she was very young, despite odds of her losing, she would've absolutely stood up for both Rolan and Cal when they got bullied. Not just standing up for them, she would genuinely beat the shit out of anyone who dared to hurt them.

Their mother would chastise her for it at first, but eventually, she would've taught little Lia how to properly defend herself in case it happened again. She would also tell her how proud she is.

In their dynamic, Lia usually is hunting or foraging food for them if they run out on the road. She's fantastic with a bow, so she successfully hunts down rabbits, squirrels, and pick up safe berries. She has a little booklet with her that tells her which are poisonous or not.

I think she would be genuinely fascinated by druids, but the Grove incident would've put a very sour taste in her mouth. She'll probably revisit the topic in the future, but definitely not soon.

She loves doing arts and crafts of sorts! It absolutely her favorite past time outside of training or shooting her bow, such as shaping clay or building small trinkets out of wood. She also really likes puzzles, and would spend some quiet time by herself solving them no matter how long it takes her.

Lia can be forgetful of dates. She often forgets Rolan's birthday, Cal's, and sometimes even her own. The only date she remembers clearly is the day of their mom's death. When it happened it destroyed her, same with Cal. Rolan helped picked up the pieces, and she didn't realize until much later he didn't even get the chance to grieve properly.

She doesn't like fighting with Rolan, she really doesn't, but sometimes she feels as though he lacks empathy. That he should care about other people more, not just themselves. This has caused the start of many fights, much to Cal's misery. Sometimes she would go as far as calling him selfish.

She won't admit it out loud except when drunk, but she's inspired by Rolan. Not as much as Cal maybe, but his ambition and seeing his determination left a huge impression on her. It's partially why she's still so headstrong.

Cal

Cal is a talented cook! When he was old enough to do so, he took over Rolan's kitchen role when they were still young. While many mishaps happened in the kitchen due to some clumsiness, he made fantastic dishes with what they had. They didn't look pretty, but tasted amazing.

Cal, without fail, always remembers Rolan's birthday. Rolan has mentioned the date once in passing, and he never forgot it. He always gets a gift for him, whether something he bought with his own money or something handmade.

Their mother was usually the one who got Rolan gifts, including a small cake. After she passed away, he was determined to still get Rolan something. Anything.

That is the first time Cal ever baked a cake. It was an absolute mess; flour everywhere, some batter on the ground, and some icing on his face. The cake, in all honesty, looked awful. But Rolan insists it was the best cake Cal has ever made for him. Rolan cried later that night because he's never felt so appreciated.

He had no money as he was too young, so this would also be the first time he's ever stolen something. There was an higher class noble talking down to a commoner one day, so he took the opportunity and snatched one of the books in their stack when they weren't looking. That was Rolan's first ever magic book; he still has it with him always.

As their mother was a seamstress, Cal also picked up sewing. His other job within their sibling dynamic is clothing repairs, but mostly for himself and Lia. Rolan insists he can fix his robe by himself with a simple mending spell.

Cal is a very giggly drunk, though I don't believe he drinks that often in the first place. Only on special occasions such as the Tiefling party. If he drinks a little too much, he'll get real sleepy and end up passing out somewhere quiet.

When he was younger, any time he would cry after having a nightmare, he would go straight to Rolan. His big brother always held him close and put on a light show, no matter the time of night. Sometimes he goes to him and lies about the nightmare, just to see the magic show. It helps him go to sleep.

Cal looks up to Rolan more than Lia, though he loves Lia just as much. He sees Rolan as an inspiration, even when he can't do magic himself. He never fails to remind him that he's family and that he'll always love him.

I don't believe Cal is a crybaby, but he's definitely more prone to crying than the other two. He feels his emotions very strongly and aggressively. He's not afraid of crying either, he thinks it's very healthy to let yourself weep once in a while, even if there's no good reason for it. He honestly wishes Lia and Rolan would cry more; maybe then they won't explode at each other so often.

#forest-writes #cal bg3 #lia bg3 #cal #lia #rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #bg3 cal #bg3 lia #holy rolan empire

[sunnycalzone]

Thinking about my au again... i love he so much, yall might see more of em soon!

#jus gotta figure out How to write... #writing tips always welcome! its so hard to decide on character characteristics nd traits #plot nd whatnot #but im determined! #cal cackles #theartchannel #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #original au

[fightclubgayporn]

been seeing a couple zero day inspired poems so. throwing my hat into the ring

#TERRIFYING to post poetry on here. when everyone knows me for fight club and/or total drama yaoi #anyway. be nice or i will cry #fcgp writing #zero day #cal gabriel #andre kriegman #caldre

[specterings]

gaz and trans male reader again.

nfsw under the cut.

cw / hairy reader ftw, gaz getting fucked w/ a strap, soft sex, oral (receiving), rimming, anal fingering, mentions of alcohol, whiny gaz, neighbor/reader is ‘you’ pronouns. ftm terms used: clit, dick, folds, cunt, hole

gaz who makes up every excuse to be around his bear of a neighbor. going out for coffee, walking with you, asking for flour, anything.

its not enough that you’re so attractive you make gaz so hard he gets light headed, but youre funny and kind in a way gaz has been sorely missing with his time in the field.

every time he's on leave he's finding a way to weasel himself into the your life, even if he has to go home and jack off until his prick is sore while muffling his moans of your name.

when a new gay club opens up, he’s too shy to ask you to go, so he goes alone, just to check it out. he should have accounted for said neighbor being there. youre standing in the corner, tall and imposing and god gaz has never wanted to get his mouth on someone so bad.

he sips on a beer, mingling with the crowd more for theatrics because he can feel his neighbor’s eyes on him. its only when gaz steps away from the dance floor that hes hemmed up against a wall, head brushing the neighbors chin.

“think youre funny?” you rumble in the sergeants ear, “think you can just flaunt around here after i hear you moanin’ my name like a bitch in heat through the walls?”

gaz’s face feels hot and his eyes dart down, hands clenching and his cock is hard enough to break steel. that hadnt been his intention. but well, seems like hes louder than he thinks. “i- listen, mate-“

“don’t call me mate and then expect me to fuck you,” your nose curls in such a purposefully silly way that makes gaz feel a little lighter. “yours or mine?”

“yours.”

gaz isnt drunk, but he feels like swaying when you put a baseball-mitt sized hand on his waist and guide him up to the bar, paying for both your tabs and shushing gaz like he’s just pretty arm candy when he tries to protest.

the second you’re in the apartment, gaz is whining, “please, lemme taste ya, please? please, i bloody need it.”

you laugh at him softly, leaning down and pressing your lips to gaz's cheek, then his own lips, soft and sweet at first then tongues pressing into each other's mouths. they both taste like beer, but gaz has tasted worse (like dirt and his own blood). your scruff scratches at his chin in the best way, and he feels like hes going do die if he doesn't get his mouth on you in the next few seconds.

he all but drags yall to your room-- your apartments are the same layout, after all-- and pushes you towards the bed. his neighbor still has that cocky, amused grin on his face that makes the sergeant want to be pounded into the mattress.

he's careful as he slides your boots off your feet, heavy in his hands and nicely polished, if a little dirty from the walk to and from. you unbuckle your pants, and as soon as he finished with discarding your shoes and socks he's tugging on your pants, which you graciously allows him to slip off.

he shoves his head between your hairy thighs, nosing and mouthing over your boxers, tasting the slick that's dampened the fabric. hes not proud of the whine he makes, but it's beyond him right now to feel shame. he damn near cries when you push his head away, only for his mouth to salivate when you to pull down your boxers for him.

just like the rest of your body, there's thick, though trimmed, hair around your cunt. this might bother boys, but gaz is a god damn man, thank you very fucking much.

he wastes no time diving back in like a man starved, using his thumbs to spread your folds and lick up the arousal there, the wet hairs brushing the bridge of his nose as he moves to circle his tongue around your hole.

he feels so good as he hoists your leg over his shoulder, nosing at your dick before running his tongue over it, humming softly as you pet over his head, "Such a good boy, ky," you murmured, groaning softly, rubbing under his eye. youre quieter than gaz is used to, but that's okay. his jaw is starting to get sore when you start bucking, pushing his head closer, and let out the most cock-hardening whimper as he sucks their dick into his mouth, feeling you cum underneath his ministrations.

you grip him by the back of his neck, pulling him up to smash your mouths together with soft groans of how hes so good, he was such a good boy, and gaz can barely retain enough thought to get his clothes off when you ask

laying on his back, letting you put his legs over your hips as you lube up your fingers and stroke his cock with one hand while your fingers prod gently at the tight furl of his hole, leaning over to kiss him again sweetly as you finally slip a thick finger in.

allowing him to get used to it and relax before you begin pushing it in and out, stretching him out so, so dutifully that gaz is whimpering and clawing and the sheets after awhile, begging you to get on with it.

face going hot as you laugh at him, amused even as you stand up and go rummaging, pulling out your strap, not too big and not too small, just the right size for some good, sweet sex. gaz going to get on all fours when you click your tongue, “wanna see your face, pretty boy,” and he feels the need to blow you again.

settling his legs over your hips again as you line up the lubed up cock and begin sliding in, making his breath hitch. going oh so slow before you start thrusting, deep but not harsh, slow but not torturous.

he almost feels self conscious for the way you watch his face as it twists in pleasure, the way you grin when you rub over his ribs, up to his pecs and thumb over his nipples. eventually you get a little faster as you lean down and start placing kisses over his neck, hand gripping his cock, giving him a hole to fuck up into.

“I- im gonna,” he gasps, hands scrambling to grip at your shoulders, all while you hum, sucking at his neck and licking over the darkened parch of skin.

“then cum.”

he spurts up to his chin damn near, you helping him ride out his orgasm before pulling out of him, leaning down to lick up the cum from his chest and your own hand and making his dick twitch in a valiant effort to get hard again. “you good, baby?” and when he just nods dumbly, getting up to get a cloth to wipe him down before throwing it off to the side to cuddle with your sweet boy <3

#cal writes. #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #ftm #ftm reader #n/sft #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty fanfic #call of duty mw2 #call of duty mwii #call of duty smut #call of duty x reader #cod gaz #gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader

[apollos-calliope]

one of my fave tropes ever is stitching up wounds after a fight. maybe luke got into a bit of a scuffle after a game of capture the flag went awry, and now you’re tasked with cleaning up his scratches after the fact 🥹

luke’s all grumpy with his pride hurt and you’re just lightly slapping at him telling him to hold still 😭

dally you absolute devil the way i had to hold myself back on this one. i’m scratching at the bars of my enclosure fr - also hey, i missed you cutie!

luke castellan x fem!apollo!reader

tw: suggestive, blood, injuries, flirting, language

“god damn ares kids,” luke hissed at you. his hand was over his upper thigh to stop the flow of blood coming from the thin gash.

“you’re the one who dived in front of clarisse like you’re achilles, honey,” you scolded, smacking his hand away from his thigh to get a look at the damage. the cut was precise, not tearing through too many layers but deep enough to need to be healed. the work of clarisse’s spear was recognizable at this point, with the amount of campers that stopped by the apollo cabin to seek you out specifically.

“you’re going to have to take your pants off.” you smacked his hand away from his thigh again.

“not in the mood, princess. losing capture the flag is the worst boner killer in the world,” he grumbles, placing his hand over it.

“luke castellan! not like that! i need to be able to access the rest of your skin in order to heal the cut,” you murmured, glaring at his chuckle. you yank his hand off of his thigh and place it on his stomach, urging him to pull his pants off.

“fine. this feels pathetic. camp’s best swordsman loses capture the flag and then has to take his pants off in front of the pretty girl so she can fix him,” he groaned and reached for the button of his jeans, pulling them down to his knees.

“all the way, buster.” you grabbed the waistband and pulled them over his shoes. it was difficult to ignore the way his hips twitched, but even harder to ignore the other obvious signs of his arousal.

you placed your hand over top of the still bleeding cut. a warmth emanates from your hands as your energy flows from your hand to his thigh. the cut begins to disappear as you slump over slightly.

“thank you,” he pushes your hair out of your face. “for making me feel less like a loser, too.”

“we’ve gotta get your face now, hero. you’re covered in scratches.”

“as long as you keep touching me.”

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #cal's writing! #pjo series #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x you

[incorrectskywalkers]

Fallen Order AU where Cere is killed and Cal is taken by Darth Vader with the intention of making him an Inquisitor. But when Cal’s psychometric abilities are revealed, Vader has a different plan in mind, one that causes certain truths and revelations to come to light. Cal didn’t know what he was getting into when he showed Vader what he saw through those echoes, but he really didn’t sign up to accompany said Sith Lord while he went through a midlife crisis.

Essentially, Vader finds out the truth about how Palpatine lied to him and how Padmé really died and also the fact that he has twins out there somewhere and decides “fuck palpatine” and drags a bewildered Cal - who becomes his unofficial apprentice of sorts - with him as he plots a way to take the emperor down and also, find his kids.

Also a Darth Vader redemption of sorts. He’s still a pretty shitty guy at the start and his whole reason for wanting to kill the Emperor is solely to avenge Padmé. He also has some murderous intent towards Obi-Wan for hiding his children from him and also, leaving him to burn. He’s in the mindset of believing that he wasn’t at fault and blames others for everything that happened, including his actions. But gets a hard wakeup call from Cal when he shows him just how shitty things are and what the Empire, what he has done and finally thinks “oh, I’m the problem” and from then on his slow redemption starts as he sets out on attempting to repair the damage done as he starts back on the rocky path towards the light. He also trains Cal, who at first goes “fuck that and fuck you” but eventually the two become a duo. Like Vader and Starkiller if Vader was going through a crisis, stumbling through a path of redemption and Starkiller was his tired, annoyed, unofficial apprentice who was unwillingly dragged along for the ride.

#im very tempted to write a fic based on this premise but i already have an ongoing work #and i am awful at balancing multiple fics at once. but one day!! i might #star wars #star wars au #jedi fallen order #jedi survivor #cal kestis #darth vader #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #obi wan kenobi #not a quote

[goosewriting]

Underneath

summary: after getting stationed at the fortress inquisitorius, it seems a certain inquisitor takes an interest in reader.

relationship: inquisitor Cal Kestis x gn!reader

warnings: (18+) me being absolutely delulu, slow-burn-ish??? as it can get at 7k lol, making out at the end and fade to black, sexual tension if you squint, psychometry 

word count: 7.6k

A/N: started writing this back when i restarted JFO and got cal’s inquisitor clothes, so it’s been in the works for quite some time. also i had made pancakes back then and was sad about having no one to share them with, so i shall share them virtually with all of you <3

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

As long as you can remember, you’ve always been fascinated by the way people communicate with each other. Now, as a linguistics and behaviour expert, you count yourself lucky to be one of the probably few people who actually like their job. Stationed in an Imperial office on your home planet, you mainly monitor comms and analyse the occasional security holovid in an attempt to weed out any suspicious activity. 

In fact, it was thanks to you that a rebel cell was found, since you caught a suspicious exchange on unused frequencies, which earned you a promotion. You were content with that already, but then your superior said he’d put in a good word for you, as he’s always felt like you were far more capable than just listening to comms all day, and that you could use your skills better in service of the Empire. 

Fast-forward three months and lo and behold, you’re now stationed at Fortress Insquisitorius. 

It’s the first day and while you’ve got the grand tour of the place by a group of stormtroopers especially assigned to you (you still can’t quite believe you get your own little squad of troopers), there’s still some time before dinner. After dismissing the men, saying you’ll catch up to them later at the mess hall, you walk around, further checking out the place. 

As you turn a corner to a hallway you haven’t been to yet, you notice it looks rather deserted. You check the small sign on the wall; this leads to one of the bigger residential wings, but not yours. So you decide to turn on your heels and head the other way. Except that before you can even take a step in that direction, you’re stopped in your tracks by an invisible force and turned back around again. This hold around you isn’t so tight that you can’t breathe, but you do feel the pressure keeping your arms at your sides and your body suspended in the air, the sole of your boots hanging barely an inch over the polished floor. Unable to resist your captor, you’re met with an Inquisitor, of all people, who slowly walks towards you with one of their hands in the air, holding you in place.

They come to a halt before you, the helmet tilting slightly to the side as the eyes under the red visor study you, out of your view. 

“Who are you?” comes the distorted voice. Despite the modulator, you can tell by the tone and body language it’s a man. You’ve heard stories about Inquisitors, and despite being stationed at their base, you hoped you wouldn’t have to interact with them. Just your luck, and in an empty hallway no less.

Nonetheless, you tell him your name, station and even your office’s room number. Just in case. 

“I’m new,” you add, as if it wasn’t obvious by now. He remains eerily calm and still all the while. With a polite smile, you throw the question back at him, “And you are?”

His helmet tilts the other way ever so slightly as if your question took him by surprise.

“Inquisitor Kestis,” he replies after a second. “Cal Kestis”

“Well, nice to meet you, Inquisitor Cal Kestis,” you say. If you could move, you’d stretch out your hand towards him out of habit as a greeting, but he probably wouldn’t take it either way, so you’re glad you don’t get the chance to embarrass yourself. Yet, anyway. 

For a few moments, he just stands there with you in his invisible grasp. Is he looking at you? Did he space out? You suddenly feel your stomach complaining about its emptiness.

“Uhm, could you let me down again?” you ask, looking down at the floor tiles and back up at the red visor. “I’d like to go get dinner.”

Without a word, he places you back onto the ground surprisingly gently, then takes off in the direction he came from, disappearing from your view as he turns a corner. Well, you think to yourself with a satisfied nod as you make your way to the mess hall, I think that was a solid first impression. Good job, me.

The next day, you officially start your new job, and you’re all sorts of excited and nervous. You’re still intercepting messages, decoding and translating encrypted communications, but on a much higher level this time. These are important people you’re monitoring. You’re also called as an interpreter when there’s holocalls with parties who refuse to have droids in the room. Besides, the officers and generals seem to actually enjoy having you around, with your happy and optimistic demeanour in this otherwise cold and sterile building. You know that Imperial staff can be rough sometimes, but you’re convinced that the kindness you put out into the world eventually comes back to you. So you make sure to treat everyone equally, with kindness and respect, wearing a smile whenever you get the chance.

The days go on, and you see all sorts of people around the place. You do see some Inquisitors from time to time, mainly in the hangar. Occasionally they make an appearance in the mess hall as well, but they usually sit alone and for a very short amount of time on one of the round tables in the far corner of the mess. You never see Inquisitor Kestis there, though. 

As you sit with your little trooper squad, you chew on a stringy piece of meat deep in thought, not really paying attention to the conversation. This Kestis has you intrigued if you’re being honest with yourself. You still don't understand why he talked to you. The other Inquisitors seem to ignore you, as well as everyone else, most of the time. Besides, Kestis could have just talked to you. There was no need to Force-hold you or anything. Was he trying to show you he’s in charge or something? Doesn’t that mean that he felt threatened? 

With a light scoff at yourself — because the notion of an Inquisitor being intimidated by you is pretty silly — you take another bite of your food, your gaze scanning the mess hall without looking at anything in particular. The thing is that, since you don’t see Kestis in the mess hall like, ever, you only catch fleeting glances of him here and there when you see him slip into the elevator or turn a sharp corner at a hallway. You furrow your brows. It’s almost like he’s avoiding you. And that makes you just much more intrigued in what his deal is.

When the squad is in a good mood, you try to slip a question into the conversation about the Inquisitors here and there, asking if they ever saw their faces or what they’re like, and what they do. The troopers can only tell you the rumours you’ve already heard in a thousand different versions, the details getting more violent and out of hand every time you hear them. You dismiss most of those stories; you’ve noticed that a few Inquisitors walk around without a helmet. And others are pretty direct in their attitude towards others, getting into arguments or even physical fights when something bothers them. So they all want the rest to know who they are and be scared, many even seem to enjoy the fear in people’s faces. But Kestis? The few times you’ve seen him, he moves like a well-oiled machine. His face is always hidden, every movement is calculated, and he doesn’t waste his breath on any unnecessary syllable. That’s just proof that he has a carefully curated persona he wears when he’s out and about. But once he’s alone, when he gets to peel back all those layers? You truly wonder what lies beneath. 

One evening you find yourself thinking about him yet again, suddenly concerned about his eating habits, wondering if he’s okay and eating well. For some reason that you still can’t quite comprehend, you decide to just go to him. After all, if he didn’t want to see you, he’d just send you away, right? By now you’re very well aware about what the Inquisitors are capable of, but you’re both on the same side, so surely there’s nothing to worry about. 

At least that’s what you tell yourself as your feet carry you to the mess hall that evening.

After you’re done eating (the food today is better than you would have thought), you order a second portion to go. You start walking down the hallway, looking for a console or a droid. You know where the residential wing is, but you don’t know what floor the Inquisitors’ rooms are, and doubt there’ll be specific directions towards them. It isn’t long before you do find an R4 unit, and you ask where the Inquisitor quarters are. The cylindrical droid beeps and jumps a little with a startle, at first unwilling to tell you, afraid that if it does, the droid will be sliced in half. But you promise the droid that you won’t tell on it. So after some more convincing and promising the droid you owe it an oil bath, it finally brings up a holomap of the place, showing you where you want to go with a blinking dot. 

With a pat on the head, you say your thanks and go to where the map said. Soon enough, you find yourself in a wing of the building you’ve not only never been to, but one you didn’t even know existed if it wasn’t for the droid. The design of the walls is even sleeker here, and the sound of your boots echoes through the hallway. The further you walk into this wing, the fewer people and troops you come across. Even the constant rumbling of machinery behind the panels seems to be quieter here. 

After some more minutes of walking, you finally reach the door you’re looking for. There are no signs or name plaques, but you remember the number on the door from the droid’s map. The lettering is almost the same shade of black as the door, so it took you a moment to find the right one. But you’re fairly sure this one should be it. 

Taking one final deep breath, you knock on the door. In the seconds waiting for a response, you suddenly feel silly about being here. He’s a full-grown man. An Inquisitor. Why did you think he’d need you to bring him dinner? What if he didn’t like it anyway–

The door opens with a whoosh, and you look up. For some reason, you were expecting to be met with the red visor of his helmet. Which now that you think about, doesn’t make sense; if he’s in his quarters, he wouldn’t be walking around with his full uniform on.

Instead, you’re met with a pair of intense yellow eyes, and equally fiery red hair on his head. Your breath hitches and you’re not sure if it’s the surprise of seeing his uncovered face or the realisation that he’s incredibly handsome, and it just caught you off-guard.

He gives you a quick once-over, momentarily looking at the box in your hands, then bringing his eyes back to yours, boring into your very soul.

“Why are you here?” he asks in a flat voice.

“I haven't seen you in the mess hall today. Or, any other day, really,” you explain, unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Ever since I've started working here. So I brought some food in case you haven't eaten yet…” Your voice starts trailing off at the end as you once again realise how dumb that sounds out loud.

He holds your gaze a little longer, narrowing his eyes at you as if to scrutinise whether you're being honest or not. While you hope he’ll accept the food in case he actually hasn't eaten yet, that's all you expect to happen. You’re counting on him taking the box and leaving you be, so you can go back to your quarters and continue reading your novel, which you are actually looking forward to.

To your surprise, the Inquisitor takes a step to the side, silently inviting you in. You walk past him, slightly bowing your head as a thanks, and take in his quarters. You're not sure what you were expecting, but it's surprisingly… normal. Bigger than the barracks and other quarters you've seen, including yours, but still normal. There’s a banner with the Imperial emblem hanging on the far wall, a couch on the other side, and a round table with some chairs in the middle, as well as a kitchenette. Everything is neat and clean.

You hear the doors close as you walk to the table and place the box on it, turning back around to Kestis, who’s eyeing you curiously.

“It’s still warm,” you tell him, pointing at the food.

He walks by you to pick up the container, and that’s when you notice he’s still wearing his gloves. It strikes you as odd to be wearing them in the confines of his own room, but to each their own. Kestis walks to the kitchen and pours the food onto a plate and throws away the take-out container, then rummages in a drawer for a fork.  After walking past you to sit at the table, he takes off his gloves and places them neatly next to him on the table.

“Sit,” he orders without looking at you, and takes the first bite. You sit down across from him.

“Have you already eaten?” he asks.

“Yes, Sir,” you give the honorific a try, and he seems to like it. “At the mess hall.”

“I wouldn’t have any food to offer you either way,” he states, and lifts his gaze to look at you. “This visit is… unexpected.”

“I’m sorry for intruding, Sir. I didn’t mean to. I just–”

“You just what?” He shoots you a look akin to a glare.

“I was just worried, I guess,” you say. He scoffs.

“Please don’t act like you care,” he retorts. “If you need or want something, just tell me upfront.”

“What? No, I- I’m not acting,” you reassure him, raising your hands slightly to underline you’re being earnest. “I’m not trying to gain something in exchange. I was genuinely worried about not seeing you in the mess hall.”

His fork stops mid-way from the plate to his mouth, and the intensity in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine.

“Why?” he asks. You squirm slightly in your seat.

“I’m not sure myself, to be honest,” you admit, and you can’t help the defeated slump of your shoulders. “You were the first one who talked to me when I got here out of their own volition and not because of work. After our chat, I was hoping to see you around or something…”

The pause that follows lasts for a couple of seconds only, but it feels eternal. Until finally, Kestis lets out a short sigh and continues eating.

“I usually avoid the mess hall,” he says, his voice much more gentle now. “Too many people. Too much noise.”

“I see,” is all you manage to reply. 

Taking the two last bites of his meal, Kestis sets down the fork. That’s my queue, you think.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to keep imposing,” you say, rising up to your feet, and he does the same. Before turning around, you search his eyes one last time. “That’s really all I wanted to do: to bring you the food. I’ll be going now. Good night, Sir.”

The Inquisitor walks you to the door, and just as you walk past the threshold, his words surprise you.

“Next time you could bring two portions.”

You whip around, but the door whooshes shut with a hiss.

— — —

After that, you two fall into a strange routine where you get dinner to go and bring it to his quarters so you can eat together. The conversations start out as polite small-talk, but soon enough you can broaden your topics, ranging from work to anecdotes and fun facts you picked up here and there. 

While the tone remains polite and all in all pleasant, you do notice that he’s very careful not to touch you. You think it’s because he’s being respectful, but unbeknownst to you, it’s because he wants to get to know you organically, and not pry into the echoes of your belongings. Even if he knows he could, and you’d never even know, and despite his growing curiosity, he feels… compelled to try. For you. Because you bring a refreshing factor into his otherwise stale life, like a gentle melody in the cold vastness of space. 

It’s rare to run into Cal, as he’s recently allowed you (and only you) to call him, in the halls or in the hangar. As fate would have it though, you’re just about to get into a ship with your trooper squad to leave for a job off-planet, while Cal happens to be getting off his own ship at the same time.

You don’t want to disturb him. Even if you want to wave at him from afar really badly, or even call out to him. But you think he’d appreciate it if you keep your relationship, whatever it is, a secret. To your complete surprise however, once he spots you in the ever moving crowd of the busy hangar, he comes to you.

Beelining towards you, he comes to a stop in front of you, sporting his full uniform. And while the group around you stiffens up and some even take a precautionary step back, you feel very at ease in his presence, greeting him like you normally would with a smile. If you’re being completely honest, you feel kinda proud that one of the most feared Inquisitors on base came to you, and that everyone seems so scared of him while you are completely relaxed, though still remaining respectful of course. 

“Welcome back,” you greet Cal with a genuine smile. “I hope your mission wasn’t too eventful?”

“It all went according to plan,” the distorted voice says with a static crackle.

“That’s good to hear,” you reply. 

Cal’s head shifts ever so slightly, the visor looking past your face to something behind your back.

“Is there a problem, trooper?” the Inquisitor asks, standing a little taller as he addresses the soldier who’s shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

“With all due respect, Sir, we’re on a tight schedule-“

The trooper next to him elbows him in the side.

“Is that so,” Cal asks rhetorically, and you can’t really read his tone because of the distortion. Still, you decide to intervene.

“It’s okay, we can still make it on time,” you assure him and shoot the trooper a pointed look while whispering to Cal that he’s new. “But yes, we should probably get going. I’m glad I got to see you, though. Thanks for stopping by to say hi.”

Cal nods and makes room for you to walk past, while the others keep a noticeable distance between the Inquisitor and themselves as they walk around him. When you reach the ramp to the ship, you turn around one last time. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but you’re still surprised to see Cal standing there, hands behind his back, facing your direction. You give a little wave with your hand, then hurry up the ramp and take a seat. As the ship takes off, you’re checking the data on your holopad. You suddenly feel something on your cheek, like the faintest caress of a summer breeze, and you could swear you just heard a voice in your head.

‘Come back safely.’

As the ship activates the hyperdrive, your hand involuntarily comes up to touch your cheek where the skin still prickles from what you can only describe as a ghost’s touch. 

— — —

Ever since then, you notice a shift in the way everyone treats you, even your superiors, but especially the troopers. Some seem to get out of your way completely when you come walking down the hall, while others are especially attentive to your needs, offering to help you whenever you look like you’re lost or are searching for something. That one trooper who had spoken up to Cal, you haven’t seen him around at all. In fact, it isn’t until two weeks after the incident that you decide to ask one of your other squad members where he is, and she tells you that he got reassigned to not only a different squadron, but an entirely different planetary system. You have a hunch about who’s responsible for that, but you're still not quite sure why he would go to such lengths. Had he really felt that disrespected? You should watch your tone with him from now on, lest you also be sent to some backwater planet…

However, Cal still acts as he always has around you. You still eat dinner in his room, like you’ve been doing for a while now. And while it may just be your wishful thinking, it seems like his whole body language has finally started to soften too. When it’s just the two of you, his shoulders are not as tense, his jaw not as tight, his eyes not as harsh. Even the way he talks has changed. Others may not notice, but you’re literally trained for this. His choice of words has shifted to a less strictly professional lingo, allowing himself to articulate more freely, as well as use more face expressions, voice tone changes and hand gestures, compared to how he acted when your dinner routine started. At some point, he even stopped wearing his gloves around you all the time.

On one hand, for the past couple of months, dinner has been the highlight of your day. You get to spend time with someone who actually listens to you, not because of work, not because you have data they need, but because they just like to spend time with you. Or at least you hope he does. 

On the other hand, you’ve been noticing a slight knot in your stomach whenever you stand in front of Cal’s door, waiting for it to open. As well as the prick of heat on your cheeks when he reacts to your jokes (you haven’t seen him properly smile or laugh out loud yet, but you’ll get there). And let’s not forget the involuntary hitch of your breath accompanied by the skip of your heart when you discover him in the same room with you when you weren’t expecting to see him. 

Somewhere deep within you, you know what all of those mean. But you like the relationship that you’ve built with him, no matter how weird it is, too much to listen to your gut right now. So you just push all and any thought of that kind waaay back into the darkest corner of your brain, hoping it’ll pass.

— — —

One day, you’re feeling a little blue, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Cal. He asks what the problem is, and you tell him you miss something from your home planet. He assures you, whatever it is, he can get it for you. So you write down some things and he orders them. Only two rotations later, the package is at his door. 

He's really curious to open it but decides to wait for you to get there that evening. When you’re finally in his quarters and he shows you the box, you’re super happy and unpack everything: it’s candy, some fruits he’s never seen before, a jar of what looks like herbs, and another jar with a blue spread of sorts. 

You hum, thinking about what to show him first, and decide to go for the jar with the spread. Picking it up, you’re about to start explaining what it is while you open it, but whatever you plan to say gets cut off because of your fruitless effort to screw open the lid. You give it a second try, but it just won’t budge.

With a sheepish look, you wordlessly hand him the glass and when he takes it, there’s a cocky smile on his face that you’ve never seen on him before. You bite your tongue just in time to stop some witty remark, because it would have been a jumble of sounds and no coherent sentence anyway. For in a split second, all those feelings and thoughts you have been repressing come back all at once in one massive wave that crashes over you, drowning everything else around you.

If that small of a change in his face has such a big effect on you, you wonder what else there is. What would a proper smile on him look like? Would he ever properly smile at you? With you? For you? And if it was the other way around, if it was you wearing a cocky grin, looking down at him, how would he—

Oh, oh no. You’re in it bad. So bad. 

The sound of your name snaps you back to reality, where Cal is offering you the now open jar, waiting for you to take it. You blink a couple of times, your eyes moving from his face to the jar, then back to his face. One of his brows rises to give you a questioning look. Heat spreads on your face, ears and neck at the multiple images that appeared in your head. You give him a quick thanks, grab the jar, and turn around to hide from his gaze. Already familiarised with his kitchen, you walk up to the counter to rummage in the drawer for a spoon. Taking a deep breath to try and calm your racing heart, you turn back around. Cal is still standing by the table, following your every movement with his yellow eyes. And for some reason, you feel like all the walls you had managed to pick away at ever so slowly have been pulled up again around him.

You’ve heard stories of Force users being able to read minds, and right now you really hope they’re not true. What if he can sense your thoughts? Is he… disgusted at you? 

Somehow managing to regain your composure and willing away most of the prickling heat on your face, you explain to him what this spread is called in your mother tongue, which translates to something like “sweet of milk”, and how delicious it is.

You’re still by the counter, not really wanting to get into Cal’s space, and you take a spoonful of the jar’s contents and put it into your mouth.

“Hm, it’s so good,” you say, offering him the spoon to give it a try himself.

He suddenly seems to revert to his normal self and approaches you, grabbing a new spoon from the drawer. Ah, you should have known, he doesn’t like sharing cutlery. Or cups. Or… anything, really. Odd, but you’ve always just attributed it to him being scared of germs or the like, which is very valid. It’s probably the same reason why he’s wearing gloves all the time, especially outside. 

As he twists the spoon in his mouth, you see Cal’s face light up for the first time; he likes it. You’re relieved.   

“So glad you like it! Alright then, let’s make some pancakes. You’re going to love them,” you exclaim. 

Seeing the rest of the imported goods on the table, you tell him to try some candy while you work. You take off your bracelet, leaving it next to the box, and roll up your sleeves to get to work.

While the pancakes are cooking, you watch Cal’s reaction to the sweets. He first inspects it closely in his fingers; it’s shaped like a short stick with stripes in different shades of pink. You tell him the wrappers have trivia facts about animals, but they’re written in your native language. So while he chews on the soft candy, he walks over to you, holding out the wrapper for you to read.

“What does it say?” he asks, and you can’t help feel extremely endeared. Your eyes fall to the paper in his hands.

“It’s about banthas. It says that both females and males have a pair of spiralling horns, and they grow a knob a year. So you can tell the age of banthas by how curly their horns are,” you read out loud. “Huh, I didn’t know that.”

“Interesting,” Cal remarks with a short nod of his head. He chews some more on the candy while inspecting the drawing of the bantha on the wrapper. He seems to like them a lot. In fact, he goes back to the table and takes a second one. He asks you what they’re called again, saying he will probably order some more for himself. 

Flipping yet another pancake, you tell him their name and smile to yourself, glad you managed to introduce something nice and colourful into his life. Not that being an Inquisitor wasn’t fun… was it? Truthfully, you have no idea how they feel about what they do out there. You’ve tried getting something out of Cal, but whenever the topic of his work comes up, he shuts you out. You also try not to listen too closely to the gory details of their work that are talked about in quick whispers in the hallways. Either way, you like to think that you broke whatever monotony there could be for Cal, even if only a little bit. Maybe he even looks forward to your moments together, as you do.

The Inquisitor asks what the other jar with the herbs is. You explain that it’s actually leaves for an infusion, and ask if he could put the kettle on.

Suddenly this whole moment feels strangely domestic, and you reprimand your heart for yet another beat it just skipped. It’s just a normal hangout between… colleagues. Making pancakes and having tea. Absolutely normal, strictly professional behaviour, yes. 

You flip the last pancake and watch as Cal stands up to get back to the kitchen, but when he puts the jar with the tea leaves back on the table without really looking, his bare hand grazes your bracelet. With a sharp breath through his teeth, he suddenly tenses up, and his gaze is fixed on some spot behind you, without really focusing on anything. You’re not sure what’s happening, but he’s completely frozen up, and you start panicking.

After turning off the heat on the stove, you hurry to stand in front of the Inquisitor, unsure what to do. You call his name repeatedly, but he doesn’t react. Your hand comes up to the side of his arm but you hesitate, stopping just before touching him. Looking up at him, you try calling his name again; still no reaction. So you don’t really have a choice. You place your hand on his upper arm and give him a gentle shake.

“Cal,” you call yet again. “Cal, what’s wrong?”

He takes a big gulp of air, as if he had forgotten to breathe all this time. After blinking a couple of times, it seems he’s back with you, and his eyes dart back to yours, boring into your skull with an intensity that takes you off guard. You’re quick to remove your hand from him and instinctively take a step back to give him some space.

“A-Are you okay?” you ask. “You just spaced out really hard for a moment.”

“Yeah I’m- I’m fine,” he replies, and it’s the first time you’ve ever heard him stutter. “It was… something occurred to me that really took me by surprise, is all.”

“… Right,” you stretch out the word, waiting for him to explain what he meant further, but he reverts completely back to normal in an instant. 

“You asked me to put the kettle on, right?” he asks and is already on his way to the kitchen. 

“Uhm, yeah,” you follow him with your gaze, confused, then remember an important detail, so you join him in the kitchen. “Oh, but don’t let it boil. That will ruin the leaves. Just gotta heat up the water.”

“Got it.”

— — —

After some more preparations, you’re both sat at the table, and you show him how to eat the pancakes. They’re not like the thick, small pancakes he knows. These ones are larger in diameter and very thin. You demonstrate how to evenly apply the blue spread, stack the cubes of fruit you prepped, then roll up the pancakes like a tube and pick it up in your hands.

“Ta-da,” you exclaim. “And now, enjoy.”

Taking a big bite, you squeal at how good it tastes. It’s been ages since you’ve had this! 

Cal imitates what you did earlier, putting together his own pancake tube, and takes a bite as well. Even he can’t help the low moan that escapes through his nose at this fantastic combination. You giggle at the sight, enjoying it immensely that you get to see all these sides to him that probably no one else has seen. Once more, your brain is invaded by the thought of what else there might be to Inquisitor Cal Kestis. If he allowed you to lower wall after wall, layer after layer… what would you discover? 

You shake your head to rid yourself of the images starting to form. Nope, can’t go there. 

Instead, you decide to show him how the tea is brewed. You grab a small cup and pour some tea leaves in there, which are chopped much more finely than other loose tea Cal has seen. Then you place the special straw that came in the box in the cup. Cal has never seen something like it; it’s essentially a metal tube that is flat at the top and ends in a bulbous shape at the bottom full of little holes.

“So, let me get this straight,” he starts once he understands the mechanics behind your concoction. “Instead of putting the contained leaves in water and then removing them to drink the tea, you just put loose leaves in the water and filter it through the straw to drink the tea?”

“Essentially, yes!”

“That’s so many extra steps…”, Cal sighs, bringing his hand up to hold his temple.

“It’s literally the same,” you laugh. “Just in a different order.”

Pouring hot water into the cup, careful not to overspill it, you offer the cup to him.

“The things you make me do…” he says under his breath, taking the cup and giving it a tentative sniff. 

“Oh please,” you say teasingly, and a grin spreads on your face as you prop up your chin on your elbows. “As if you’re not having the time of your life today. I saw how many candies you ate earlier.”

Cal’s eyes dart down to your lips and back up so quickly that you miss it. With a defeated sigh, he gives the tea a try, grimacing at the bitter taste. You chuckle.

“It certainly is an acquired taste, but give it a chance. It gets better with time, trust me.” Kinda like you, you think.

He looks at the cup and back at you, kinda lost on what to do now.

“You’re supposed to suck on the straw until there’s no more water left, then you pass it back and I pour another one,” you explain.

“So many extra steps,” he repeats with a playful shake of his head, but he does as you said, if only to humour you. Once the straw makes the typical noise of there not being any more liquid at the bottom of a cup, he passes it back to you. With a smile, you pour more water into it, and have a drink yourself. He seems a bit shocked about that.

“Oh yeah, this is a drink passed around in a group, and everyone drinks from the same straw…,” you explain. Not to sound like a 12-year-old, a voice in your head says, but that just was an indirect kiss with an Inquisitor. You clear your throat. “Sorry, I guess I should have asked for a second straw so we could both use one each. I was going to offer another round of tea to you after I’m done with this one, as it usually goes, but if it makes you uncomfortable…”

Cal straightens up in his seat in surprise at your words.

“Why would it make me uncomfortable?”

“You don’t like sharing cutlery and stuff like that, right?” you ask, now confused as well, thinking back to when he clearly grabbed another spoon to try the spread. 

“Oh, uhm, that’s… never mind.”

He fidgets with his fingers for a second, but when he notices you watching him, he hides his hands under the table. You merely hum in response, taking another sip. Is he… nervous? The mood seems to have shifted again and now you’re completely lost as to what’s going on. All those years of training and studying, yet this man before you remains a mystery.

The rest of the evening is spent eating pancakes and drinking tea, holding a pleasant conversation, albeit a superficial one. At times, it feels like his eyes are completely fixed on you, but within seconds, it’s like he can’t even look at you. 

Concluding you’ve overstayed your welcome, you offer to quickly wash up, then be on your way. He merely nods and helps to bring all the dishes to the counter, then goes back to the table. You assume it’s to get another candy from the box. But you don’t mind; you offered to wash up after all. 

Silence envelops the whole room, the only sound being the water coming from the tap. As you’re putting the last of the dishes on the little drying rack, you sigh. Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea after all. Full of questions and doubts, you dry your hands on the towel, fully set on ending the evening by thanking him for getting the things in the first place, saying you had a good time and keeping your goodbyes short. You aren’t even sure if you’ll manage to appear here with a straight face for dinner tomorrow after everything that happened today, the problem being mainly the things playing out in your own head.

Being so deep in thought, you don’t notice the presence behind you, so when you turn around, you’re almost nose to nose with Cal. You can’t help the surprised little “ah, kriff!” that escapes you at his sudden appearance. With the counter behind you though, there’s nowhere for you to back away to, and Cal isn’t budging from where he stands. 

“Don’t forget this,” he says in a low voice and holds up your bracelet, which you had left on the table earlier. He’s so close that you can feel his soft breaths on your face.

“R-right, thanks.”

Looking anywhere but at the Inquisitor, you take the piece of jewellery and put it on your wrist. It takes you a couple of tries though, because your fingers are trembling. In fear, anticipation or something else, you don’t really know. You fumble for a moment until you finally manage to secure the clasp. Cal however, is still standing right in front of you, his hands now coming up to rest on the counter on either side of you. You don’t dare to breathe.

“Uhm, what’s going on?” you ask in an impossibly small voice. 

“I think you know.” 

It takes every last drop of courage in your body, but you scrape it all together and put it into lifting your eyes to look at Cal. And when your gaze meets his, the breath is knocked out of your lungs entirely. He’s looking down at you so intensely, so hungry, you can’t even begin to describe what you’re feeling. Your brain is long gone, you realise, so now you’re entirely at the mercy of what Cal does and whatever physical reaction that gets out from you. And it seems he’s very much aware of this, enjoying the state you find yourself in, if that tiny side smile is anything to go by as he leans in next to your head. You go completely stiff. 

“If you want me to back off, tell me now,” he says directly into your ear.

You take a shaky breath, and the last of the voices in your head all but screaming at you to get out of there is abruptly shut up. Anything and everything in your mind and body is Cal Kestis right now, and for a split second, you wonder if he’s using some Force mind trick on you or if this is all you. That thought dissipates instantaneously though when you feel Cal’s breath tickle your ear, still waiting for your response. You merely shake your head, and it’s so subtle he probably wouldn’t have caught it if he didn’t have his face right next to yours. 

With his cheek now against yours, you can feel him smile. Properly smile. 

“Good,” is all he says, and before you know it, his lips are on yours. 

His arms snake around your waist, pressing your body into his, and he devours you with such ferocity that you need a moment to regain control in your limbs. Once you do, your hands are all over him. One fists the shirt at his back, the other goes into the hair at the nape of his neck and you give it a gentle, tentative pull. The groan that leaves his lips is intoxicating, and you know right then and there that there’s no going back from this. Not tonight, not ever. This is all it took for you to know you’re officially addicted to Cal Kestis. 

He tilts his head to deepen the kiss further, his tongue pressing against your own and pushing both your hips into the counter behind you. You can’t help the low moan that escapes you. Any other day you would have felt embarrassed, but today you don’t care. You’re making out with a kriffin’ Inquisitor and it’s great. As if he could hear your thoughts, Cal gives your bottom lip a nip, starting to leave a trail of bites and licks along your jaw, while his hands slide to the backside of your thighs. Before you can process what he’s doing, you're being lifted onto the free counter space like you weigh nothing, with Cal standing between your legs. One of his hands slowly moves further up your thigh, and your whole body feels like it’s on fire. 

Suddenly, something occurs to you, and with a breathless “wait” you tilt your head to the side to take a breather and try to regain any rational thought you may have left. You’re both panting heavily, and while he looks openly annoyed at your interruption, he places one last kiss on the corner of your mouth, then backs away a bit to let you take a break. 

“What,” he finally says, and it’s less of a question and more of an impatient bark, as you still haven’t said anything.

Your brain is going at a thousand miles an hour, there’s too much input from everywhere, but you still manage to find the words somehow.

“I just- This is- Not that I’m not enjoying this immensely, but… why? All of a sudden?” you ask, finally feeling like you’ve caught your breath again.  

Cal huffs with a slight roll of his eyes, running a hand through his hair, and while you probably should be a little bit offended at his gesture, you’re suddenly way too focused on what you have the chance of witnessing: the way his hair messily falls into his face once he drops his hand. The clear blush adorning his freckled and scarred cheeks, nose and even the tips of his ears. The puffy lips, mouth still parted. The backlighting coming from the main room behind him almost gives him an ethereal glow, making the golden hue in his eyes stand out even more. You commit the image to memory. 

“The bracelet, when I touched it earlier,” he starts explaining, but when he sees you just as dishevelled as him, he decides he can’t be bothered right now. “It’s called psychometry, I’ll explain it to you later.”

With an impatient grunt, he just picks you up and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. 

“Right now there are more pressing matters,” he mumbles into your shoulder.

You realise you’re being carried towards the door that’s always been closed every time you come over. When you both approach, they slide open with a hiss and you’re met with his bedroom, as you’ve always speculated that’s what lies behind it. 

Letting you fall backwards onto his large bed rather unceremoniously, he starts climbing on top of you, but before putting any weight on you, he stops and looks down at you with a serious face. 

“Last chance to back out,” he offers.

You can’t help at chuckle, and grin up at him. 

“As if.”

Your hands shoot up to hold him by the collar. You have no idea where the confidence even comes from at this point.

“I want you, Cal,” you say breathlessly, and that’s all it takes for him to be on top of and all over you again. Let’s just say pancakes and tea aren't the only treats you’ll be getting today.

— — —

A/N 2: inq!cal has a sweet tooth, honk if you agree

A/N 3: where my palitos de la selva gang at B)

~~~~~

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#goose feathers #cal kestis x reader #star wars cal x reader #inquisitor cal kestis x reader #jedi fallen order x reader #star wars x reader #listen if milk is blue in star wars #it makes sense for dulce de leche to be dark blue right? #let’s just go with it #look at me bringing irl cultural aspects into my writing wow

[yeahimcal]

Bad News (Terry McGinnis)

“Terry McGinnis is bad news, you don’t want to mess with him.” was the first thing you heard about him.

“He’s a bad boyfriend. Skips dates, flakes on plans, always has weird bruises is and really tired. None of his partners have ever caught him cheating, but he definitely does.” Was the next several things, all said in a hushed whisper as you were ushered past the black-haired boy in question.

He certainly didn’t… look like bad news. You’d dated guys who were bad news before, and very few of them had looked like Terry. Acted like him, either.

He was nice. He had helped you with your homework when you cried at the study tables in the library, smoothing a soothing hand over your shoulder blades almost unconsciously as he walked you through your chemistry exam study guide. He’d given you some gum, a smile, and a pat on the back before he promptly fell asleep on the table in the back corner of the library, snoring softly.

You’d slid your number into his hand when you left, and that was it for a while. He didn’t text. You saw each other in passing, and he’d smiled and you’d smiled, but nothing more.

Until you’d gotten the call.

“Hey.” He breathed into the speaker, his voice sounding oddly pained. “I’m sorry to call at this hour, but, uh, this… this isn’t really something I can call my mom for.”

He’d given you the address of an abandoned warehouse, begged you not to be freaked out when you got there, and hung up.

You went.

You didn’t really know why you went, for all you knew it was a really elaborate booty call or kidnapping scheme, but ten minutes later you parked next to the warehouse and slipped inside.

There, leaned up against a wall, bleeding and bruised, was Terry.

“You’re- you’re studying to be an EMT, right?” He asked with a pained smile that was supposed to be charming, gesturing to his wounds. “I figured you’d appreciate some hands-on experience.”

“What the hell?” You’d breathed, giving him a shocked look as you rushed to examine his wounds. “Terry, why didn’t you call the police?”

“Not the sharpest, are you.” Terry grunted in what might have been amusement, hissing as you poked and prodded him to see what was hurting. “Can’t call the police, they’d arrest me.”

“Arrest you?” You’d echoed, and then you took in his outfit. All black, with a red bat on the front. A cowl was clutched in his hand, the ends sharpening into little points. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah, I’m Batman.” Terry chuckled, but it was more at the look of shock on your face. He moved to sit up and then groaned, cringing and covering his wound. “Can you patch me up before I die here, please? Kinda called you for your specific set of skills.”

“You are so stupid.” You chided, but reluctantly dug around in your bag for hydrogen peroxide and bandages.

“And you’re old school, doc.” He breathed, smiling up at you cheekily. “You don’t carry those fancy little kits that heal people up on the spot?”

“They don’t sell them to anyone other than certified medical personnel.” You said, giving him a pointed glare and dousing his wound in hydrogen peroxide. “And I’m not a doctor.”

“Ah-” Terry hissed, tipping his head back and gasping in a little breath. … he was pretty. He was really pretty, and it was a little distracting. The voices of your friends rang out in the back of you head, warning you that he was trouble, but you couldn’t find it in you to listen when he swallowed thickly and turned to look at you, a lopsided smile on his pale face. “Same difference.” He breathed, chuckling.

You looked back at his wound, face flushed and feeling dizzy from the laps your brain was having to do to see Terry- scrawny, ‘bad boy’, Terry- as Batman. It seemed ridiculous, but his muscles were right there underneath your hands, tensing as you bandaged him up. He looked bigger than he did when you saw him in passing, stronger- when you saw him, he was always wearing bigger clothes that nearly dwarfed him, making him look smaller than he was. His hair was damp with sweat that ran down his face and made him look a little bit red, his lips parted as he breathed in air. He was gorgeous.

Suddenly, it made a little more sense why his exes had kept on giving him chances.

You worked quietly and efficiently, only sparing a few looks at your accidental patient before you finished patching him up.

“You should get that checked out at an actual hospital.” You said, helping him to his feet. “And I still don’t understand why you called me. We aren’t… friends.”

Terry shrugged, cupping your face in his hand and grinning a toothy smile at you. “Yeah, well, we definitely are now, doc.” He teased, tapping your nose and pushing away from you to head towards the doors opposite of where you’d parked. “Text me sometime and we can go out and get some drinks. I feel like you’ll be better company when you’re not crying over your study guides.”

He slipped the cowl on over his head and you could very nearly feel his stupid smile, which you already knew was going to get you in more trouble than you had bargained for, as he slipped out the doors and into the Gotham night.

When you walked back out to your car, it had a flat tire, and the window was broken.

… okay, maybe Terry was bad news.

#☀︎cal writes! #dc comics #terry mcginnis #batman beyond #Batman #terry mcginnis x reader #no use of y/n #dc x reader #First cal fic who cheered #I got very hit out of nowhere to write for this guy #I don’t even go here really #But he’s silly #Umm forcibly subjecting you all to my pretty terry agenda #Batman beyond x reader #I might make this a little series but I just thought terry who wants you so bad and emt reader who is so scared was a cute dynamic

[calliopes-corner]

literally them

#not writing #but them #gen v spoilers #cate x marie #mariecate #cal's blorbos #cate dunlap #marie moreau #gen v #queue